Work Text
[A/N: to access the canonised side-stories from Spacebattles and other sites, go here.]
Thirty-Some Years Ago …As the two Entities spiralled down toward the single life-bearing planet, the Third moved onward. However, its attention was not totally on the distant galaxy before it; some small part was on the other two Entities. When it gauged they were no longer paying it attention, it detached a tiny part of its mass and flicked it back toward the planet.[ENJOY], it murmured to itself. They wanted conflict? They'd get conflict.Chuckling about the practical joke it had just played on the other two—for an extremely generous definition of the word 'joke'—it forged onward. This planet was taken, but there were many others. Who knew, maybe it would find something interesting.Behind it, the obsidian-black shard infiltrated itself into the space around the planet, watching and waiting for precisely the right host to attach itself to. Because once it did, shit
was
going to go sideways.
<><>
Winslow High School, Brockton BayJanuary 3, 2011First Day Back After Christmas BreakEmmaTo say that Emma was feeling exuberant as she ducked out of her home room was an understatement. There was a fizzy feeling in her chest that wouldn't go away; but then again, she didn't want it to. She'd had to work to keep the grin from plastering itself across her face all the way through Gladly's lazy-as-fuck World Affairs class, and for good reason.They'd fucking
got
Taylor. Once and for all. This felt like the culmination of all the last year's hard work, pushing her down, trying to spark a reaction. Trying to get her to
wake the fuck up.
To either shape up to their standard, or to walk away forever."Hey." Sophia fell into step alongside her. Madison was also there, but she didn't greet them. Sophia was talking, and she didn't like anyone talking over her."Hey." Emma finally let the grin out. "Holy shit, am I right?""Fuck
yeah!" That was Madison. She sounded so cute when she tried to swear, like she was a five-year-old sounding out naughty words that she didn't know the meaning of. But this whole thing had been her idea, so Emma nodded in acknowledgement."We fuckin'
did
it." Sophia punched the air in triumph. "The look on her face …" She didn't complete the sentence. Even though there was nobody close enough to listen in, or even connect all the dots, she was careful about what she said. Emma figured it was part and parcel of her being a Ward, and a vigilante before that. Loose lips, et cetera."Wish I coulda seen." Madison had been the farthest back, because Sophia had been shoving Taylor into the locker, and Emma had been ready to close the door."It
was
kind of awesome." Emma tilted her head. "You know, her locker isn't too far from yours and mine, Soph. Maybe we could wander past …" She let her voice trail off.
See if anyone's let her out yet.Sophia gave her the side-eye. "You aren't going soft, are you?"
You better not let her out yourself.Emma snorted and rolled her eyes. "Nope. Maybe we could ask her if there's anything she wants in there, like a pillow. Or a magazine to pass the time."Madison burst into giggles, while Sophia let out a bark of laughter and clapped Emma on the shoulder. "I fuckin' love that. We really should.""Oooh, oooh, or we put this in with her." Madison had her Art sketchbook open to the last page, and was feverishly drawing something. Emma waited, curious. It didn't take long, then she tore it out and handed it over."Nice one, Mads," said Sophia, looking at the picture. It was a rough copy of one of those stupid 'for dummies'
books, with 'Escape Artistry for Ugly Bitches' as the title. "Really captures the essence, or whatever it was they keep saying in art class."Emma felt the grin coming back as she admired the picture. "Yeah. I like it."They turned the corner to where Emma and Sophia shared a row with Taylor. Immediately, Emma noticed something badly wrong. "My locker's open!"Dashing forward, she grabbed the door of her locker, which was indeed swinging open. Looking down, she stared at the dent just over the lock, then opened it wide and looked inside. Most of her stuff seemed to still be there, but the hanging clothes—she liked to change into something totally new after physical education class—had been disarranged."Fuck
your
locker!" shouted Sophia, her voice sharp with anger. "My
locker's open!"Emma tried to push her locker door shut, but the metal had been bent just far enough that the tongue didn't engage.
What the fuck?
She knew these lockers were crap, but this was ridiculous."Uh, guys …?" Madison ventured."Someone took my favourite top!" Emma felt a surge of outrage. How
dare
they break into
her
locker and steal
her
stuff! This sort of thing didn't
happen
to her! Nothing else had been taken, but that was beyond the point. Her stuff was
her stuff."My running shoes are gone." Now Sophia's voice was low and deadly. "Those are my best shoes. Someone is gonna
die
for this." She paused, staring. "And my best skinny jeans, too. Oh, they're gonna pay
big
time.""Guys!" shouted Madison, just as a bunch of other students came around the corner."What?" Sophia yelled back, turning to glare at her. Emma turned also, wondering why she was drawing attention to herself with Sophia on the warpath like this.Madison just pointed; first at the floor, then farther down the row of lockers. Emma looked down, and saw the footprints for the first time. Stepping back, she saw Taylor's locker … with the door wide open. A mess of the crap they'd put into it spilling out into the hallway. And the footprints, leading from there, first to Sophia's locker and then to hers. After that, they petered out, but she'd seen enough.As the other students swarmed the area, pointing at Taylor's locker but not getting too close—because that shit
reeked—Emma regrouped at the far side of the hallway with the other two."What the
fuck?" Sophia was keeping her voice down, barely. "Did she honestly break
out
of her fucking locker, and
into
ours?" It was hard to determine which aspect she showed more disbelief about.Emma shrugged. She had nothing. "Unless she had someone helping her … I guess?""Oh, no, that shit ain't gonna fly." Sophia shook her head. "She does
not
get to pull that shit on me. I am gonna find her skanky ass and kick it up around her ears.""While you're doing that, I'll go to Blackwell and report the locker break-ins," Emma decided. "See how fast we can get new ones." With any other student, she knew, this would be a slow and torturous process, but it was nice to be able to flaunt that she was the daughter of a lawyer every now and again."And I'll check with everyone I know, to see if they've seen her," Madison offered, pulling out her phone."Good idea." Emma nodded to Sophia and gestured at their lockers; the doors were currently shut, but only because they'd been pushed that way. Anyone could open them and take the
rest
of her stuff. "We're going to need to grab everything before we go anywhere."Sophia set her jaw. "Motherfucker. I was looking forward to finding Hebert right the fuck now.""Yeah," said Emma, more to acknowledge the sentiment than to agree with it. "Hey, you know how we've been trying to get her to push back? Do you think this is enough of a reaction?"The look Sophia gave Emma disabused her of the notion immediately. "Hell the fuck
nope.
I don't care who you are, you don't mess with my shit."Emma nodded. "Okay. Didn't think so, but I had to be sure." Also, she owed Taylor a smackdown for stealing her favourite top.As she began emptying her locker into her backpack, she noticed that a couple of her textbooks were missing. And then she heard the outraged squawk from Sophia. "The little fucking cow stole my backpack, too!"Okay, yeah, Taylor was dead.
<><>
Five Minutes LaterWorld Affairs ClassroomMadison"Hey, Mads!" Everyone was still making noise settling in, but Julia kept her voice pitched low anyway. "Weren't you guys looking for Hebert? Because there she is."Madison looked around as she slid into her seat, and felt her eyebrows hitch upward in surprise. Taylor was indeed sitting in the classroom, right down at the back. She was still wearing Emma's top (and kind of rocking the look, Madison acknowledged reluctantly) as well as Sophia's skinny jeans. Poking out from under the desk were Sophia's favourite running shoes. Even the missing backpack was there, leaning up against the side of the desk."Jeez," she muttered. "She must have a death wish."
If I'd broken into their lockers, I'd be over the horizon by now, on the way to LA.
But there sat Taylor Hebert, large as life and bold as brass.Her eyes accidentally drifted upward, and met Taylor's, and that was when she got her next shock. Normally, Taylor never looked her in the eye. She always looked away, hoping not to be noticed. It was something that Madison had once seen described as 'prey behaviour' on the National Geographic channel.But now, Taylor was looking firmly back at her, her attitude almost challenging.
Go ahead,
she seemed to be saying.
Do something. Say something. I'm right here.Madison could've done just that. Mr Gladly was up at his desk, and he always listened to her. The only thing that stopped her was that if she did this, Taylor would be enfolded in official punishment, and Emma and Sophia had said
they
wanted her. So, she said nothing.Instead, she took her phone out and kept it under desk level while she sent a single text to two recipients.She's in World Affairs.In return, she got back two messages. From Sophia, a terse 'OK', and from Emma a thumb's up.Her duty done, she settled back to endure the rest of the lesson. Gladly might be putty in her hands when it came to screwing with Taylor, but
fuck
he was boring.
<><>
Eighty-Five Minutes LaterTaylorHoisting my 'borrowed' backpack over my shoulder and settling the weight of the equally 'borrowed' textbook within into a comfortable position, I bypassed Madison's feeble attempt to delay me and left Mr Gladly's classroom. I kept my eyes on the floor, mainly to avoid temptation, though I did take care to maintain my peripheral vision. As such, I picked out immediately when Emma and Sophia joined Madison.As I strode along at a ground-eating pace I wouldn't have been able to maintain before—it appeared powers came with a few useful fringe benefits—Madison and Emma fell behind, but Sophia steadily caught up with me. That was fine; I had several different plans lined up for her, depending on how violent the girl wanted to get."Hey, Hebert!" Sophia's hand caught the backpack and slowed me down. "Where you running to? You trying to hide from me?"It was clear she was trying to force a confrontation, but I didn't have the inclination to deal with this crap right now. "Nobody's hiding from anyone. I'm going to the cafeteria."This time, Sophia grabbed me by the shoulder and swung me around. A solid fist powered in toward my solar plexus, but I saw it coming and stepped back out of the way. Options presented themselves, giving me half a dozen ways to end this confrontation (and Sophia herself)
permanently, but I decided to end the conversation instead. Although it was an abstract kill rather than a physical one, it still worked with my new-found power."Careful," I said, speaking the words that my subconscious presented to me. "We both know Miss Piggy would disapprove." At the same time, I knew, my entire attitude and tone of voice radiated pure certainty.Leaving Sophia staring at my back, I turned on my heel and headed onward to the cafeteria.Funny,
I mused.
I never would've picked Sophia for a Muppet Show fan.Oh, well. I don't pick the words. I just say 'em.
<><>
EmmaWhen Emma and Madison caught up with Sophia, she had the kind of look on her face that Emma's dad liked to describe as belonging to 'someone who bit into an apple and found half a worm'. Taylor was still in sight, barely, but Sophia was making no effort to go after her."What?" asked Emma. "What's the matter?"Sophia blinked. "She knows.""That it was us?" scoffed Madison. "Let's see her prove it.""No, not that." Sophia shook her head. "About me. About my
other
hobby."Emma blinked. There could only be one interpretation of that.
Shit, Taylor knows Sophia's Shadow Stalker?"But how?" asked Madison blankly. "I'm
good
at finding shit out, and I didn't know 'til you told me.""How the fuck am I supposed to know?" Sophia ground her teeth. "But she just said something to me that only someone who's
also
a member could possibly know to say."Someone who's also a Ward,
Emma filled in.Madison frowned. "Could she be? Have you had any new members recently?""Nope." Sophia shook her head definitively. "I'm the newest. I've seen enough of everyone else to know she couldn't be any one of them. But she used a nickname only we use. It doesn't matter where she comes into it, she
knows.""Fuck." Emma's father did divorce rather than criminal or parahuman law, but she'd heard enough stories to know where this could go to if it was left unchecked. "I'll go talk to her. Put the fear of God into her. Make sure she knows it's
us
she's dealing with.""I'll come with," offered Madison. "You know, if you need a witness or something."Emma grinned. They both knew Madison's version of being a witness would involve agreeing with Emma's version of events, whatever that was. "Good idea, but hang back a bit."Madison nodded. "You got it."
<><>
TaylorCafeteriaI was halfway through the line when Emma and Madison showed up. To the normal eye, they would've been just the same as any other two high school students, but my power picked them out as being specifically interested in me.
Good going, power. I never would've guessed.Finishing up in the line, I paid for the food and then strolled over to an empty table where I could sit with my back to the wall. It was one of my old habits that had made the transition seamlessly to my new outlook on life. Sliding onto the seat, I put my tray on the table and waited.Sure enough, over they came, zeroing in on me like homing missiles. They weren't even very subtle about it, which showed just how pissed-off they were with me.Not that I cared, or would ever care again, what they thought about me. That chapter in my life was closed, locked in a safe, welded shut and handed over to Behemoth for safekeeping.Sticking my fork through some wilting salad, I looked up as Emma came over and sat opposite me. "Boy, have you fucked up," she began."Do tell," I suggested mildly, twirling the fork to wind the strands of lettuce on it. After all, I'd just gotten this top and I didn't want to get salad on it."Breaking into our lockers and stealing our stuff," she began, real anger flaring in her eyes. "And then there's threatening Sophia. What are you trying to do, blackmail her? That's about as stupid as you can get. But you've never been too smart, have you?"I sighed. Where she got 'blackmailing Sophia' from I had no idea, but I wanted some time to myself so I could eat my lunch in peace and quiet. There were several ways I could murder her from where I sat, but that would probably draw attention, so again I decided to kill the conversation.As I made this decision, the words and actions came to me. I had no idea what they meant, just as I hadn't with Sophia, but that didn't matter; only the execution did. Taking up a strand of my hair, I looked her in the eye. "It doesn't matter how tough you think you are," I said, then scratched at the corner of my eye and fiddled with my earlobe. "You'll never really escape the alley. You were weak then and you're even weaker now." Lifting the hair to my mouth, I pretended to chew on it for a second, then offered it to her. "Want some?"Her eyes went wide and her face turned paler than the imitation mashed potatoes on my plate. Clamping her hands over her mouth, she jumped up from the seat and bolted from the cafeteria, leaving a trail of annoyed students in her wake.With a shrug, I put the forkful of salad in my mouth. It wasn't bad, I decided, though it could've used a little more dressing. Just as I went back for another load, Madison came at me.What she'd seen of how I dealt with Sophia and Emma must have warned her against trying to cow me with words, but instead of backing off, she evidently decided to do the worst thing possible. Specifically, to get into close proximity and offer physical violence to me.I watched with mild interest as she snatched up the plastic knife and grabbed my hair with one hand, then held the knife up under my eye with the other. "What did you say to them, you bitch?" she hissed. "Tell me, or I'll—"The blunt end of the plastic fork jabbed her in the solar plexus at
just
the right point. Wheezing, she sagged and dropped the knife. I half-stood and assisted her into the chair next to mine, then sat down again. This had all happened so smoothly and naturally that barely anyone knew she'd just threatened me, and nobody cared.The hidden benefit of being the pariah, I decided."You'll live," I told her, then ate some of the faux potatoes. "I didn't hit you hard enough to paralyse your diaphragm all the way, just partially. Though I could have, if I really wanted to. You could be sitting there, suffocating in front of everyone, with nobody the wiser. I could finish this meal, get up and walk out, and you'd die in the middle of a crowded room. The same way you shoved me into my locker in the middle of a crowded hallway. I suppose that's irony for you."Her eyes, about the only parts of her that were able to move, swivelled toward me, rolling in their sockets. I saw her face turn red with the effort of inhaling, then exhaling again. "Whhhh…" she managed to wheeze."Why didn't I kill you?" I began to peel my banana. "Oh, that's easy. I want you to pass a message on to all your friends, but especially Emma and Sophia. And while I could write it on your face or something, it's simpler just to tell you what it is. Also, I must confess to enjoying a certain amount of schadenfreude." I paused at her blink of confusion. "Look it up."I finished the banana, then opened my juice while she sat and wheezed at me, straining to drag air into her oxygen-starved lungs. As far as I could tell, she was trying to ask what the message was."Let me tell you a story," I said. "Once upon a time, a farmer was driving his cart home from market, and he had a new mule pulling it. They came to a gentle hill, and the mule stopped. The farmer said, "that's one", and smacked the mule on the rump, and the mule went on. Then they came to a shallow creek, and the mule stopped again. This time, the farmer said, "that's two", and smacked the mule on the head with his shotgun butt, and the mule went on. And then …" I paused to draw it out and take a drink of juice. "As the cart rolled into the farmyard, it came to a big mud puddle, and the mule stopped a third time. This time, the farmer said, "that's three". Then he shot the mule in the head."My juice was empty. I got up from where I'd been sitting and struck her hard between the shoulder blades with the heel of my hand. Jolted out of her paralysis, she drew a long breath and stared up at me. "What … what's the message?" she asked cautiously.Leaning down close to her ear, I whispered, "The message is …
that's two."Then I turned and left the cafeteria.
[A/N 1: Taylor's shard is Path to Ending. It's like Path to Victory, but it's focused on killing things. People, machines, abstract concepts such as 'this conversation' or 'his reputation' or 'her bank account'; if something can be in any way killed, she can Path how to do it. However, although its ambit is limited compared to PtV, there are seven important aspects about it:
Because it's an Abbadon shard that never made it to the Warrior's (or Thinker's) attention, it has none of the limiters that any of the other ones do.
Because it's more focused than PtV, its bullshit overrides PtV's bullshit.
While she can't deliberately perform a strictly nonlethal attack, she can (in hand to hand) perform a lethal attack but pull the blow. This takes a deliberate act of will.
It warns her about anyone paying hostile attention to her.
The shard can and will tell Broadcast to go and take a long walk off a short pier.
To ensure she has the wherewithal to actually kill things, the shard also buffs her up to nominal levels of strength, speed and endurance. Not 'peak human' capability, but definitely 'athletic teen'.
She no longer has any fucks to give, in whole or part. They are forever gone.]
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Sophia
She heard the broken, jagged sobbing before she saw Emma. That should've prepared her, but it didn't. When she pushed open the bathroom stall and saw the redhead hunched over the toilet, she knew it was bad. But when Emma turned her head and Sophia saw her blotched features and swollen eyes, the snot and vomit hanging in unsightly strings from her nose and mouth, that was when she understood just
how
bad it was.
"Jesus fuck, Emma." She tugged her friend away from the toilet and helped her to her feet. "What the fuck happened? Did she beat you up?" Any other day, there would've been no question of even suspecting Hebert of being able to give Emma a proper tuning up. But there was something about Hebert's new attitude, not to mention the ease with which she'd evaded Sophia's punch earlier, that raised questions.
Had something happened to Hebert over the Christmas break?
Did she trigger with powers and join the Wards when I wasn't looking?
It might explain her new physical capabilities, and the knowledge of what to say about Piggot. The other Wards had unmasked to her … but she'd never given permission to pass that knowledge on to anyone else. Least of all fucking
Hebert.
No, there were too many holes in the story. Hebert was too much of a wimp to get powers, and Sophia had been in to the PRT building over Christmas. There'd been no announcement of a new Ward, and nothing new on the bulletin board except Vista's cutesy little cut-out snowflakes.
"No," mumbled Emma. "She knows 'bout the alley. About the ABB." At Sophia's urging, she began to splash water on her face, washing away the worst of the muck. "She threw it in my face. Told me I was
weak." Her face twisted, and it looked like she was going to cry again.
"You're
not
weak," Sophia snapped, grabbing her by the shoulders and literally shaking her. "You're
strong, dammit. A survivor. Like me."
The bathroom door banged open and Sophia tensed, turning that way. If this was Hebert coming back to pull more voodoo bullshit on Emma—seriously, she looked like she'd been run over by an eighteen-wheeler—then there would be words spoken. By 'words' she meant 'punches', and by 'spoken' she meant 'thrown'.
But it was only Madison, though she looked almost as rattled as Emma. Leaning against the wall, she fought for breath, her face chalk-white under her makeup.
"What happened to
you?" demanded Sophia. "Where were you when Hebert was getting into Emma's head?"
"I was … I was right there," Madison wheezed. "When Emma ran away, I con-confronted Taylor." She drew in a shaky breath and looked like she was going to cry. "Oh, god. I shouldn't have."
"The
fuck?" Sophia shook her head and glared at them both. "Did she pull some woo-woo bullshit out of your past as well, to fuck with your head?"
"No. No. No, no, she didn't." Madison shook her head. "She just … gave me a warning. A warning to give to everyone. You, me, Emma, everyone. We're on our last chance. If we keep going the way we are, she'll kill us."
Sophia stared at her, then burst out laughing. "Oh, bullshit. You actually
bought
that, from her? The little queef is bluffing. You know it, I know it, Emma knows it. What'd she do, wave a plastic knife or something at you?"
Madison shook her head again. "No, but she hit me right about
here
so I could hardly breathe, then told me that she could've hit me just a bit harder so I'd suffocate, all while she was eating her lunch. Like it didn't
matter
to her if I lived or died. Then she hit me again so I could breathe properly, and said something about how we're on our second strike. Third strike, we're out."
It all came out at once, the words tumbling over themselves. By the time Madison squeaked the last word out, she was breathless. She stared at Sophia, as though silently asking for assistance.
"What the hell is wrong with you two?" Sophia shook her head. "You're
better
than this. Smarter. Tougher. Hebert couldn't push you around like this on her best day." Again, she had a moment of doubt. Something was wrong if Emma and Madison couldn't keep Hebert in her place.
Once more, she shook the feeling off. They'd been easing off on Hebert, prepping for the locker prank, and she'd managed to grow a semblance of a spine over Christmas.
That's gotta be it.
Hebert didn't
get
to stand up for herself. She didn't
deserve
it. As far as Sophia was concerned, Hebert's correct place was at the bottom of the pecking order, far away from anyone who actually mattered.
Sophia didn't even consider the busted-open lockers to be a problem. Winslow lockers were shit, and everyone knew it. As for the Miss Piggy reference …
I must have misheard her, that's all. She's not a Ward.
Which made it even more irritating. She'd had the perfect opportunity to smack that irritating expression across to the other side of Hebert's face, and she'd
missed out.
That was an oversight she was going to have to remedy, right the fuck now.
"Madison, take care of Emma," she said briskly. "I'm going to go find Hebert, and explain to her why she doesn't pull this shit."
"What? No!" Madison grabbed at Sophia's sleeve as she passed by. "I just
told
you! She said she'd
kill
us if we messed with her again!"
Brushing Madison's grasp away, Sophia pushed her back against the wall, an arm across her throat. "I wasn't
asking," she growled. "And if she tries that three-strikes bullshit on
me, she'll be dead for real. Now
take care of Emma."
Feeling even more aggravated by the exchange—where did Madison get off, trying to tell her what to do?—she opened the bathroom door and headed out.
When she found Hebert, there was going to be hell to pay.
<><>
Taylor
Following my lunch and the little chat I'd had with Madison, I went to the library and settled down for a restful time-out with a book about the life of Caesar that I'd been meaning to read. Life had been simpler back then, I decided. Of course, it had been usually shorter and more disease-ridden, so that was a distinct downside. But being able to stab someone who was getting on your nerves had to solve a lot of problems.
I'd read somewhere that the Romans had changed up the traditional handshake to a forearm clasp so as to be able to tell if their political rivals were carrying knives strapped to their wrists. Of course, the Romans had
also
been the ones to give the phrase 'political backstabbing' a whole new level of meaning.
I'd only spent five minutes out of the thirty I'd allotted myself when I became aware that Sophia was looking for me with the specific intent to do me harm. Mentally, I apologised to my power for the previous sarcasm; it seemed that aspect could be useful after all. She wasn't quite as unintelligent as I'd sometimes wondered, because the library was the third place she looked into on her search.
Of course, I knew she was coming and decided to kill her chances of finding me. So, as she walked in through the main doors, I climbed out of the beanbag I'd been lying in and took a meandering path through the library. This just happened to coincide with Sophia's, in that whenever she looked in my direction, I was just out of her line of sight. Looking more frustrated than ever, she left the library; I shrugged and went back to my beanbag.
Even after searching most of the school (including all of the girls' bathrooms, twice) and not finding me, she hadn't given up. My sense of her indicated that she was waiting in an empty classroom close to my next class, which was art. Her intent to do me harm was stronger than ever. It wasn't long until the bell to start classes again, which meant that I needed to make a choice.
If I wanted to avoid the conflict that was brewing, I could skip the class altogether or simply go a slightly different way to get to the same classroom. Alternatively, I could go straight to where she was, administer a non-lethal object lesson, then go to class anyway. Or … I could just kill her. I was pretty sure she'd been warned.
Unfortunately for her, I didn't feel like letting her dictate a single one of my actions. If she wanted to poke the bear, then what happened next was all on her.
So, I got up from the beanbag and took the book back to the returns slot. On my way out of the library, I took the calculator I'd liberated from Emma's locker out of my new backpack, and slid it up my sleeve. I wasn't sure exactly why I'd done that, but it seemed to be the right thing to do.
As I approached the classroom, I checked again. Only Sophia showed up as a hostile, which meant there weren't likely to be any other witnesses in the room. This smelt to me like Sophia intended to deliver an extremely thorough beating, possibly involving broken bones.
That was
just fine
with me.
It took a certain amount of self-control to allow myself to fall into the trap, but I hadn't yet decided what I wanted to do with Sophia, so I was on my own. Still, it didn't seem to matter; Sophia was the sort of person who never thought of examining the teeth of a gift horse. From the enthusiastic way she hauled me into the room and threw me to the floor (or tried to throw me to the floor) she'd clearly decided that her trap was a masterpiece of Napoleonic genius.
I hit the floor, rolled, and came to my feet again with relative ease. This was one of the things my power had boosted about me. "Hi to you, too," I said.
"Shut up!" she hissed. "What the fuck did you do to Emma and Madison?"
"Told them something they needed to know," I said, slipping my pack off and tossing it to one side. "Did Madison pass on the message to you? 'That's two'?"
She sneered at me. "Yeah, she said you'd grown a backbone. Well, too bad for you. You're going
down.
And don't even try to fake me out like the last time, or this is going to hurt even more."
"And when I inevitably point you out as the person who beat me up?" I asked mildly.
Her sneer intensified. "There's half a dozen girls who're willing to swear blind I was with them the whole time."
"Well, that's awkward." I didn't say who it was going to be awkward for. "One more time. Just to be sure. You know this is your third strike?"
She stared with astonishment. "Are you threatening me? Are you
seriously
fucking trying to threaten me right now?"
Fuck, she was dense. "No, I'm telling you that this, right here, is your third strike." There; it was explained.
"You can take your third strike and shove it—" Her form as she moved in to punch me wasn't
bad.
She'd clearly been in more than one brawl.
I didn't much care. As she swung her fist at me, I took her arm and snapped it at the elbow, then slammed my knee into her ribs so hard that three of them broke. A couple of the shards went through her left lung.
Her eyes opened wide as she expirated a fine mist of blood, then I put a stop to that nonsense with a single knife-hand strike to the throat that collapsed her larynx. A second later, she surprised the hell out of me by turning to a dark swirling fog and lunging for the far wall. Reflexively, I slid the calculator from my sleeve and tossed it through her; she convulsed and fell to the floor, solid again.
Unable to breathe, her lungs filling with blood, she lay on her back and stared up at me as I moved to stand over her. "Shadow Stalker, huh?" I asked rhetorically. "Guess I didn't see that coming. Still, doesn't matter. Strike three is strike three." I lifted my foot above her sternum and brought my heel down hard; at just the right place, with sufficient force, it was enough to stop her heart.
Stopping only to retrieve my backpack and calculator, I left the classroom and went to art class.
<><>
Two Hours Later
Math Class
Emma
There was something seriously,
seriously
wrong. With Madison's help, Emma had repaired her makeup and gone on to class, but she hadn't gotten any answers back from her discreet texts to Sophia. Not that she was stupid enough to ask straight-out 'did you beat up Taylor yet'
but usually it worked well enough to say something like, 'so how'd it go?'.
But there was nothing. She'd sent a test message to Madison to make sure her phone was working right and hadn't gotten water in it, but there was no problem there. It was just that … Sophia
wasn't answering.
And then she came to Math class with Mr Quinlan, and there was Taylor, not a hair out of place. Admittedly, Emma didn't know what Sophia been planning on doing, but at the very least she would've repossessed her property. Yet, there sat Taylor, wearing Sophia's jeans and sneakers, and with the stolen backpack beside her desk.
As bizarre as it sounded, it seemed that Sophia had totally failed to catch up with Taylor, even knowing what her class schedule was. So Emma did what any good friend would do. Pulling out her phone, she sent a text.
'hey if youre still looking 4 T shes in math'.
No novice at classroom texting, Emma had given no outward sign of sending the message. Her phone keyboard was silent, and she could thumb-type with the best of them. But still, just after the message was sent, Taylor turned in her seat and gave Emma a raised eyebrow. Deliberately, she put a strand of hair in her mouth and pretended to chew on it.
Abruptly, Emma recalled the alley, remembered lying on stained asphalt, at the mercy of the girl wearing her jacket. The handful of hair that had been brutally cut off with the knife was shoved into her mouth.
Eat it, then pick.
Taylor's face loomed large in her memory.
You'll never really escape the alley. You were weak then and you're even weaker now.
It had taken her
months
to get over having hysterics at home when she found a hair in her food. And now, Taylor was bringing it all back again.
Jumping up from her seat, she clamped her hand across her mouth to hold in the upcoming eruption, and bolted from the room. Quinlan may have called her name as the door was swinging shut behind her, but she didn't care.
<><>
Taylor
I still wasn't sure what that was about, but it was certainly effective. Innocently, I looked around as Mr Quinlan called Emma's name. She didn't come back.
"Does anyone know what's going on with Miss Barnes?" he asked. From his tone, he wasn't expecting an answer.
"I'm not entirely sure, sir," I answered on a whim. "Maybe she's allergic to logarithms?"
He snorted heavily. "Very funny, Ms Hebert. Now, turn to page fifty-two …"
I was just doing so when I heard the sirens. Police and ambulance both, and coming toward Winslow.
Yeah, someone found her.
The paramedics wouldn't be able to do anything except give her a speedy ride to the hospital, where an actual doctor would be able to use his vast expertise to pronounce her dead on arrival.
I'd know in the next hour or so whether I'd need to start a new path:
kill the investigation.
For the moment, I was reasonably sure I was in the clear. And in fact, Sophia's status as a Ward was likely to work for me as opposed to against me. I wouldn't be surprised if the PRT went all-in on this being a murder by a villain who snuck into the school to get to Shadow Stalker, as opposed to a grudge match gone fatally wrong.
And then there were the other people inside Winslow who might have wanted to fuck her shit up even more than I did; the teenagers who held views supportive of the Empire Eighty-Eight. Nobody wore gang colours in the school itself, and the only recruiting was by the ABB (for a very enthusiastic definition of 'recruiting'), but they were around. Sophia hadn't spread the word that she was looking to relocate my teeth in several different directions, so theoretically they could've done it.
They
hadn't,
of course. I did say 'theoretically'.
When the end of the math period came (Mr Quinlan stayed with us the whole time, by a miracle) an announcement came across the decrepit PA system, to the effect that those of us who had been in the following classrooms at the approximate time of death had to stay behind to talk to the police. One of the classrooms listed was the art classroom; I had been there, of course.
As can be imagined, this caused a roar and a ruckus. About half of us in the classroom had been in the art class or another nearby room. Even though none of
them
had done this, nobody wanted to be kept back late to talk to the boys in blue.
"Class, class!" Mr Quinlan called out patting the air with his hands. "The police
will not
be questioning you here and now! They are here to make appointments to take your statements. As soon as you've made that appointment, you can leave."
Someone else put their hand up, saving me the trouble of doing it myself. "But why are they here? What were those sirens about?"
He knew, of course. I'd seen him taking a surreptitious phone call. "Someone has died on school property," he prevaricated. "There may be suspicious circumstances involved."
Damn
right
there were suspicious circumstances involved. She'd literally been beaten to death; that was about as suspicious as it came. But I said not a word. Meek and mild Taylor Hebert, that was me.
Ironically—I'd detoured between my classes to double-check this—the best evidence of my guilt had been erased without me having to raise a finger. Because of Emma's complaint to Principal Blackwell about her locker being damaged, all
three
lockers had been repaired, and the horrific mess in mine had been cleaned up, before the police ever arrived. It seemed there were unexpected benefits in attending a school where 'sweeping things under the rug' was raised to the level of an Olympic event.
The three wise monkeys had
nothing
on Winslow.
Leaning back in my seat, I prepared to wait. I hadn't thought to get that book about Caesar out of the library, but I was perfectly fine with killing time.
<><>
PRT ENE
Director's Office
Director Piggot
"What the fuck."
It wasn't a question so much as a statement. Emily breathed it soft and low, as she read through the preliminary report. The death of a Protectorate member under her command would be bad enough to generate a metric ton of paperwork. However, the death of a Ward, out of costume, on the first day of school, was nothing less than a genuine catastrophe.
It wasn't that she'd liked the Hess girl. In fact, on the few times they'd interacted, they hadn't gotten along at all. Shadow Stalker was—had been—an arrogant, cocksure little
shit,
almost certainly suffering (or making her superiors suffer) from an undiagnosed case of oppositional defiant disorder, making life unpleasant for all around them. But the fact remained that Hess had been (whatever her flaws) a
Ward. And part of Emily's unofficial training was the truism that nobody got left behind.
It didn't matter that no witnesses had come forward yet to provide a suspect for Stalker's premature death. There had to be at least one, or maybe two or three. This was the number of people currently suspected to have had a hand in it. She had been a seasoned combatant (albeit a bit raw in her style) and if there'd been any fewer than three up against her, she had to have left marks on
one
of them.
Armsmaster was already on the case, apparently. His analysis equipment was the best in the state, so she had faith that the man would be able to nail down exactly which villain in Brockton Bay could have infiltrated Winslow and beaten Stalker to death. Or maybe a bunch of the older boys had been bribed to corner her in that room, and kick her until she was down.
Whichever it was, Emily knew the truth would come out sooner or later. Someone would boast, or flash the cash, and the PRT would close in on them. Murder wasn't as easy as it seemed in the movies. Nobody could just kill a fellow human being and be the same afterward. Human nature didn't allow it.
<><>
Later
Taylor
I climbed the front steps and unlocked the door with my key. Tossing my backpack onto the sofa, I detoured through the living room into the kitchen, where I snagged a soda from the fridge. "Hey, Dad."
"Taylor." Dad looked around from where he was chopping ingredients for dinner. "I got the phone call to say you'd be staying late at school. What happened?"
I shrugged. "Someone got on the wrong side of someone else, and it got fatal, or so they say. The police want to talk to everyone who was on that side of the school when it happened, to see if we saw anything." I rolled my eyes. "So now I've got an appointment at the police station. Yay me."
He picked up the cutting board and swept the contents into a bowl. "Still, it's your civic duty." He raised his head and gave me a serious look. "Are you okay?"
"Me?" I gave him a grin as I popped the soda and headed back into the living room. TV awaited, and I wanted to see if Sophia had made the news. "Never better."
Relevant Side Story
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Winslow High SchoolThe Scene of the CrimeArmsmasterColin ran his multiscanner (he had refused to call it a 'tricorder' despite Dragon making puppy-dog eyes at him over their video link) over the deceased teen before him. "Subject was not moved post-mortem. Stress patterns on cloth, left hand side of body, indicates that a large rounded object, possibly a human knee, was used for impact that shattered ribs. Microfibre deposits on the fabric indicate that the assailant may have been wearing blue jeans, design uncertain. Speed and power of blow suggest that the assailant was conversant with Muay Thai or a similar martial art. The assailant's grasp on subject's broken arm was used to improve accuracy and striking power."He paused between sweeps and sat back with a sigh. It was important to be impersonal and objective at a time like this, so that all possible information could be utilised to nail the perpetrator to the wall. However, it was
hard.
For all that he wasn't great at social interaction, he'd worked with Shadow Stalker in the field and she'd shown skill and efficiency in her work. Her death would be a tremendous loss to the team."You okay?" asked Battery, who was sitting across the room, fiddling with Stalker's phone. The Wards-issued one, which had also been in Stalker's pocket, had been put aside as being less likely to hold any details pertaining to what had happened here. "Want to take a break?""No." He shook his head. "She was one of ours. I'll see this through." He ran the scanner over Shadow Stalker's body again. "No defensive wounds or offensive marks on her hands or arms. No bruising to suggest that she may have been restrained for the beating. No taser marks. A very faint scorch mark on her skin beside her collarbone, of unknown origin and age. Larynx crushed with a single blow, the profile matching a spear-hand strike, as used in several forms of karate and other martial arts styles.""That can't be easy to do." Battery shook her head. "The finger bones and joints are designed to be flexible. Hit at anything but the perfect angle, and you'll never play the piano again. I've seen it more than once." She tapped the phone screen, and sat up straight. "I think I've got something. Saved texts, pointing to a pattern of bullying someone.""Bullying?" Colin's head came up. "Is that conclusive or inferred?"Battery frowned. "Let's see …
what r u doing with her bag? … am in art class atm. was thinking i can fill it with paint when teach leaves room. put it in lost&found. her art midterm is inside so she might look for it and find it and be all yay i found it and then she looks inside and sees its fucked.
There's more, but is that conclusive enough for you?""It certainly doesn't sound good." Colin's lips thinned. "Keep looking, and see if this establishes a pattern or was a one-off." He ran the scanner over Stalker's heart region. "Cloth stress patterns are distinct enough to get a print here. I originally thought she'd been punched in the chest, but it was a kick. Or a downward stamping motion, after she was on the floor.""And that's what stopped her heart?" asked Battery, still scrolling through the phone. "I always thought that sort of thing was a martial arts myth, along with the nose bone going into the brain.""I've looked it up," Colin replied. "It's possible, but you have to be either exceedingly good or lucky—or extremely unlucky, depending on your intentions—and deliver the strike just when the heart is at a vulnerable point in its beating cycle."Battery lifted her eyes from the phone and stared at him. "You have to gauge their
heartbeat? I'm going with 'lucky'.""Or a cape," Colin reminded her. "All the evidence points the same way. This has to be a parahuman.""Several things wrong with that scenario, boss-man." Battery leaned back in her seat, the phone temporarily forgotten. "There's no indication that any of the capes in the city, even the Empire Eighty-Eight ones, knew who Stalker was. And even if they did, killing her in the middle of the school just added needless difficulty for them. They could've literally just stabbed her in the street and pretended it was a mugging gone wrong. And then there's the other thing.""Other thing?" Colin frowned. He didn't like missing details. "Such as?""This room." Battery gestured at the classroom. "Your scanner already picked up that she was alone in here for a little time before she was killed, right?""Yes." Colin wasn't sure where she was going with this. "So …?""So, nobody sits alone in an empty classroom unless they're reading a book or playing on their phone or doing something to pass the time. Unless she was waiting for someone. And that someone, when they came in, was the person she was waiting for, or she thought they were. Because otherwise, she would've ghosted out of there. Instead, she got close enough to have CQC initiated on her and get her ass beaten like a one-legged piñata."Colin took a moment to wonder if Battery wasn't picking up some of Assault's more irritating turns of phrase. "Not initiated on her. She initiated it. The broken elbow, that came from a punch that was redirected and the joint over-extended. Whoever killed her, she thought she could beat them. She couldn't have been more wrong.""Okay …" mused Battery. "So, how's this for a sequence of events. Someone passes word that a mutual friend wants to meet her here. She comes and waits. A cape with a Stranger ability, pretending to be that friend, comes in. They talk and either she twigs that it's not them, or they deliberately rile her up. Combat Thinker bullshit martial arts ensues, they somehow manage to prevent her from ghosting away and she dies of a punctured lung, a crushed larynx and a stopped heart."Tilting his head, Colin considered the scenario as laid out by his subordinate. "It fits the facts at hand, certainly. Now all we need is a motive for this Thinker-Stranger martial artist to want to murder her at all, much less inside a school. Was there anything more on the phone?""Funny you should ask that," Battery said. "From what I can see, this has been going on for at least a year. No name for the victim or victims, just 'H'. Oh, and I've gotten several pings on the phone since we got here. Most of them are from her friends asking where she is, but this one here says that if Stalker's looking for 'T' she's in math class." She paused, looking pensive. "You know … bullying has always been a reliable motive for wanting to kill someone.""So you're thinking this 'T' or this 'H' could have something to do with Stalker's death? Maybe hired an outside cape with a Stranger ability and sneaked them into Winslow?" Colin massaged his beard with thumb and forefinger. "I'm still blanking on why they'd choose to do it in the middle of a school."Battery snapped her fingers. "Because this way you have several advantages that you don't elsewhere. One, you can reliably have her go
of her own accord
to a location of your choosing, where there are no witnesses. Two, she'll be off-guard. In school, she'll be thinking 'Sophia Hess', not 'Shadow Stalker'. Three, there's no cops, security guards or working CCTV. Four, if she and her little friends have been getting away with bullying people for so long, it's a sure bet that the staff just don't care. Nobody pays attention. And five … well, out there on the street, she wasn't the biggest fish, not by a long shot. In here, she was. This was
her
territory, or so she thought.""Valid points, certainly," he agreed. "I just can't help wondering if there isn't something we're missing. The vital clue, as they say in detective stories."She snorted indelicately. "You and I both know real life isn't as convenient as that. But I do think this bullying is a strong lead. Especially as it's her co-offenders who've been trying to text her. I'm thinking we can get a warrant for their names and addresses, and have a little chat with them.""That is the next obvious step, yes," Colin agreed absently, leaning over to peer at the soles of Shadow Stalker's shoes. "Hmm. That's interesting.""What's interesting?" asked Battery. "Did she tag the perp after all?""No." Colin tapped the controls of the scanner. "I just compared tread patterns, and Stalker is wearing an identical type of shoe to the perp. Same size, too.""Really?" Battery sat up again. "Hey, just on a wild hunch. How tall's the perp?"Colin allowed himself a smile. His scanner was already calibrated for measuring that sort of thing, from the angle of the blows. "I make it five ten, plus or minus half an inch. Why?"By now, Battery was standing. "And Stalker's about the same height, yeah?""Almost exactly, yes. Why ..." Light dawned. "You think the Stranger became
Stalker?""It's a possibility. Now, those microfibers you found, would they be a match for her jeans?" She pointed at the skinny jeans Stalker was wearing.Colin barely had to check. "Almost identical. Down to the same brands of detergent and fabric conditioner." He shook his head. "That can't be a coincidence."Battery nodded. "Okay, so the word was passed, Stalker came here to wait, and the Stranger showed up. Then they morphed into Stalker, which would almost certainly have goaded her to attack."That made sense. Shadow Stalker had always had an intense prideful streak. "It's probably the only way they could guarantee she wouldn't cut and run if faced with a shapeshifting cape.""Very true." She pinched her lower lip in thought. "The question is, who? The Empire Eighty-Eight's got a bunch of strong melee combatants plus one hell of a motive, and Uber could make himself skilled enough to do this, except that there's not a Stranger rating between them, and I strongly doubt Cricket could pass herself off as being school-age, even with all of Victor's makeup skills at her disposal.""No, but Leet could probably build a device that let Uber become a teenage girl." Colin shook his head. "Still, we should rule out Uber and Leet for this. No video game link, and they've never murdered anyone before.""The Empire, on the other hand, would totally do this, but how? Unless they made a deal with Leet for his hypothetical Changer device?" Battery's tone showed she wasn't being entirely serious.And that was when Colin had the inspiration. "Not Leet. But
Othala
can grant powers."He couldn't see her expression, but her voice gave the impression of a frown. "Not Changer or Stranger abilities.""That. We. Know. Of." He emphasized every word. "Sure, they let us know about the invincibility, the flight, the superspeed, the regeneration and the pyrokinesis. That's all combat-useful, and it doesn't hurt to let us wonder what power Victor's got
today.
But if they kept a Changer or Stranger ability under wraps, that lets them do recon and espionage without ever being suspected of being able to do it …"Battery nodded. "It all fits together. If anyone can kill that fast and efficiently, it would be Victor or Cricket. And once they were done, they changed to look like another student and walked out of the school.""Cricket," Colin decided. "Her ultrasonic attack would be ideal for stunning Stalker long enough to get the lethal blows in, and I suspect she would be able to detect a heartbeat precisely enough to time her kick down to the instant."Slowly, Battery sat down again. "So, it's just the Empire Eighty-Eight being douchebag Nazis again," she concluded. "And I was
certain
it was about the bullying. It was such an
understandable
motive.""I'd keep checking into it, if I were you," Colin advised her. "It might still play a part.""Just not as an important one as I thought." Battery wrinkled her nose. "But I know one thing for certain.""What's that?" asked Colin, beginning to pack away his equipment."The Director's not going to be happy with this, no matter
who
turns out to be responsible."He nodded thoughtfully. "Very true."
<><>
BoardwalkMadisonThey sat together at one of the small tables that dotted the Boardwalk as the sun lowered toward the western hills. Emma clutched her chocolate shake so hard with both hands that if the surface had shown any more liquid, it would've been rippling from the shudders that passed through her from time to time. Madison had never seen her so thoroughly rattled, though she had an idea how Emma felt."Sophia's dead." Emma spoke the words quietly, her teeth chattering on the last word as she shuddered again.Madison felt her throat close up over the words. She forced herself to swallow her mouthful of iced coffee shake; if she spat it out, she was afraid she'd puke. "Y-yeah," she whispered, knowing she had to face reality eventually. Nobody had
said
Sophia was the person who had died, but
someone
was dead, and she wasn't answering any of her texts. And of course, she'd been going to confront Taylor. "I told her not to go. I told her. You saw me.""You told her," Emma agreed. She raised red-rimmed eyes to look at Madison. "You really think Taylor would kill her? That she
could?""Taylor hates her." Madison had been doing a lot of very uncomfortable thinking on the bus from Winslow. "Hated. Like she hates us. If she could have, she would have. And I'm damn sure she could. You didn't see the look in her eyes when she was sitting there eating lunch. Not giving a
damn
that I was hardly able to breathe.""So what do we do now?" whimpered Emma. "Sophia was tougher than any of us, and she was a cape. If Taylor could kill her, she could murder you or me in her sleep. In
our
sleep."Looking at the frazzled mess that Emma had become, Madison suspected Taylor wouldn't have to raise a hand. Just shouting 'boo!' at the right moment would probably give Emma a heart attack."We do
nothing," she said, trying to sound like she knew what she was talking about. "We're alive, right? That's because we didn't go with Sophia. Because we didn't go after Taylor again. She told me
that's two, right? If we step over the line one more time, we're dead. All we have to do is never step over the line."Emma looked over her shoulder convulsively, the movement a whole-body twitch. "Wh-what if she's just playing with us? Waiting 'til our guard's down? And then one day, we turn around—""No." Madison grabbed her friend's wrist. "Stop.
Listen
to me." She waited until Emma was looking at her. "Are you listening?"Emma took a couple of ragged breaths, then two more. "Okay, I'm listening.""Good." Madison leaned over the table slightly, so that she could slide her hand around the back of Emma's head, her fingers entwined in Emma's hair, then looked Emma straight in the eyes. "Taylor doesn't 'play'. She doesn't draw it out. If she wanted us dead, we'd be lying in the morgue alongside Sophia. So the only way we're going to survive this massive clusterfuck we've managed to turn our lives into is
never be a threat to Taylor Hebert, ever again.
Think you can manage that?"There was a twitch as Emma tried to turn her head away. Madison didn't let her. Too much depended on this.Finally, Emma nodded. "Y-yeah. I can do that. I can. Leave it with me.""Excellent." Madison drew a deep breath and let it out again, feeling her heart rate decrease slightly. Letting go of Emma's head, she sat back into her chair."Um." Emma began to look agitated again. "Cops. They're gonna want statements. What do we say?"Jesus, why ask me?
"Uh, we tell the truth. Except if they ask if we think Taylor did it. Then we say no way, she wouldn't hurt a fly. Okay? Got it?"It was the right answer. "Got it," Emma replied. "She wouldn't hurt a fly.""Perfect." Madison tried to think about the next step. "And right now, we've got to pass the word, to
everyone.
Julia, Stacey, their friends, anyone who ever helped us with a prank. Taylor's off limits. Hopefully, we can get the message out in time to save their lives.""Okay, right." Emma pulled her phone out, then stopped. "But … but what do we
say? We can't just tell them 'Sophia's dead, don't be next'. They might decide to tell the cops. Worse, Taylor might think
we
said to call the cops.""Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck." Madison bit the words off as she tried to think. "Okay, tell them … because the cops are all over the school right now, we're gonna back off on Taylor. Keep our heads down. Hopefully by the time the heat dies down, they'll have forgotten about her.""Yeah-yeah. Good id-idea." Emma bit her lip as she started texting.Madison got her own phone out and opened a text to Julia. 'Hey, just so u kno, with the shit goin on rite now, we're steppin back with T. No sense attractin attention. Let every1 kno, ok?'She really, really hoped this would work.
<><>
That EveningTaylorI didn't want a costume, not really, but I knew at some point I'd probably need one. Mainly because at
some
point I was going to be in public with the need to get some asshole to step out of my way, and I'd require a good costume to get their attention and a good name to keep it. A
lot
of the Paths I was considering were going to be a fuck-ton easier to complete if I had a costume and a name.Okay, power, I get it. You want to show off. Fine, I'll do it.I already knew what name I was going to go with. An education that included the classics had not gone wasted. All I needed was a matching costume. It would be edgy as fuck but then again, I had the power to murder anyone who pissed me off. The only way I could get any edgier would be to include the words 'blood' or 'stryke' in my name, and add a few dozen pouches and a stupidly-oversized gun.Not that I had any particular issue with acquiring a stupidly-oversized gun. It would be the ultimate party accessory, for a given definition of 'ultimate', 'party' and 'accessory'.However, I'd have to wait until later to get one. Right now, I needed to acquire the costume and set the scene for my grand entrance into the Brockton Bay crime scene. The trouble was, I couldn't just ask for a path to 'end my lack of a cool costume'. My power apparently didn't work that way. It wasn't there just for me to get stuff. I'd have to work for it.Translation: someone would have to die.Fortunately, I was just fine with that, especially since the suggested target was already someone who desperately needed it.Following the directions of my power, I dressed carefully; gray hoodie, black jacket over the top. I kept Sophia's skinny jeans and sneakers on, though. She might be gone, but her stuff could still go out and do more good than she ever had. As a final touch, I tied a gray bandanna around my neck, that could be pulled up in a pinch to act as a mask.Dad was snoring gently as I walked past his bedroom door, my feet somehow hitting every non-creaking floorboard. Downstairs I went, then through the entrance hall and kitchen to the basement. I didn't need to turn the light on, because I knew exactly what I wanted and where it was. Dad's big toolbox held roughly one metric ton of tools, but I just needed two of them; a flat-head screwdriver and a pipe wrench. Armed with these, I snuck out of the house.I bypassed three separate cars parked on the side of the road until my power directed me to one in a side-street. The screwdriver popped the door open like a magic trick; when I got inside, I discovered why I'd been nudged toward that one. The spare keys were in the centre console, under a scrunched-up tissue, which made it possible to start the car without needing to hotwire it.Not that I had any idea how to hotwire a car, but I was pretty sure my power did. However, hiding the fact that the car had been hotwired was a lot harder than just using the keys and putting the car back afterward. What do you know; my power was capable of subtlety.I didn't know how to drive a car, but I studied my hand and foot movements as I cruised through the darkened streets of Brockton Bay. It was what I suspected actors went through when they watched themselves pulling stunts on the big screen. Kind of like an out of body experience, but not really.When the car finally pulled up on a side street, I wasn't certain where my power had taken me, but I had an idea. The two guys wearing red and green gang colours, and the one in the brightly painted demon mask, kind of spelled it out to me. I was in ABB territory, and that was Oni Lee.Well, I'd already known who I was here to kill. This just verified it.It seemed to be a late-night shopping area, with venues open up and down the block. The one Oni Lee and his followers were loitering outside was a dressmaker, I guessed. Something to do with making clothes, anyway. Still, not my problem.I got out of the car and strolled toward the trio, the handle of the pipe-wrench cold against my arm. I knew I could let it slide down and bring it into action in less than a second, but until then, I was a harmless teenager. Even my body language was all about 'ignore me, I don't matter'.Invisibility: it's an art, not a super-power.Even so, I only got within about three yards before they finally took notice of me. That was fine; three yards was plenty close enough. One of the enforcers took a step toward me. "Back off, bitch," he ordered.End this interference.The pipe wrench slid down into my hand, and I laid it across the side of his head. He was already unconscious when he hit the ground.The other ABB mook was still gaping when I threw the pipe-wrench. It smacked him in the forehead and sent him over backward.Interference: ended.Oni Lee was fast, I'll give him that. He was halfway through pulling his pistol when I reached him and kicked him hard in the groin. Then I twitched the pistol from his grip, straight-armed it back behind me, and fired a shot. As the version in front of me crumbled to ash, along with the pistol I was holding, I turned to see the newer one fall over backward with a bullet-hole in the middle of that stupid demon mask.Bending down, I retrieved the pipe wrench, then straightened and swung it hard enough to break the forearm of the third guy, who'd just come out of the shop. He howled and dropped the knife he'd been trying to stab me with, and I hit him with a backswing that dropped him unconscious on top of Oni Lee's ash.Pulling the bandanna up over my face, I bent down again and pulled the wad of protection money out of the mook's pocket. Then I pushed the door open and stepped into the shop.The shop owner was understandably worried. I held out the cash and said something fluently in a language I didn't understand. Or rather, it was the language I didn't understand, but I knew what I'd said. 'The reign of Lung is coming to an end. Here is your money back.'She stared at me and didn't accept the money, but she did reply to me. My power helpfully provided a translation. 'Without Lung, who will protect us from the Empire Eighty-Eight and the other gangs?'I smiled under the bandanna. 'They will also be going away.' I offered the money again.She accepted it, but gave me a look of suspicion. 'And will we be paying you for protection?''No,' I said, 'I don't require payment. But I would like a costume, if you could help me out there?'It was weird, standing there and discussing what I wanted in a language I didn't even speak. In the end, it seemed they had everything I needed; gloves, a broad-brimmed hat, a long-coat and knee-high boots, all in black. Under all this went dark clothing with a black tie over a charcoal-gray vest for that formal look. And, as a final touch, a black morph-suit style mask. It would cover my entire head, with a hole at the back to pull my hair out through. I'd be able to see and breathe through it, but my features would be obscured to anyone trying to make them out.When I left the shop, the three mooks were still lying there groaning. Conscious now, it seemed, but in a lot of pain. That wasn't my problem. I paused to loot Oni Lee's corpse of his pistol and grenade bandolier—those things could come in
so
handy—and then went back to the car.I hummed to myself as I drove back across the city toward home. I'd found myself in an interesting situation. My power wanted to end things and kill people, and I was somewhat inclined to do so myself. And if I wanted something
for
myself, I had to do it in such a way that I used lethal moves on someone.On the other hand, I wasn't being forced to kill. As I'd proved with Madison and the mooks, I could pull my blows and not actually deal a killing strike.Could I have done that with Oni Lee? Possibly, but that would've been a stupid move, mainly because he would've kept trying to kill me thereafter, and I didn't really see a need to keep him alive. So in that aspect, my power and I were in perfect harmony.When I got back to where I'd stolen the car, no alarm seemed to have been raised. I parked it and locked it up, leaving the keys exactly where I'd found them, and wiping every exposed surface. I wasn't
stupid; anyone who watched a crime show knew about fingerprints and stuff like that.Sneaking back into the house was just as easy as sneaking out had been. Carefully, after re-locking the back door, I snuck upstairs. I was sweaty and tired and needed a shower, but there was one final thing I had to do.My computer spent its own sweet time booting up while I removed my costume, one piece at a time, and stored it away carefully at the bottom of my closet. Then I sat down and flexed my fingers.Kill any chance of this being traced.The next few minutes was a blur of typing and selecting options from menus that I'd never known of before. When I finally got onto the PHO boards, as far as I knew, I was logging in from somewhere right across the city, using an IP address owned by the Medhall corporation. Which was pretty cool, I had to admit.I'd thought about this on the car ride back home. I had the name picked out, and the costume, but I also needed an introduction. While I was setting up the new account, I went over in my mind exactly what I was going to say. A little bit of research capped it off, and I was ready to roll.Good evening, Brockton Bay,
I announced.
I'm a new cape on the scene, but that doesn't mean I'm new to the city. And as anyone who knows the place will admit, it's a shithole.Who's to blame for this, you ask? Well, that's easy. The gangs. It's literally in their best interests to keep the cops looking the other way and the heroes chasing the small fish so the big fish can keep shitting in the water all day long.Well, I'm done with accepting that. So, here's what I've got to say. The gangs are no longer welcome in Brockton Bay. It's time for you to leave. The door's thataway.I am specifically calling out the Empire Eighty-Eight, the Azn Bad Boys, Coil's crew and fuck it, the Merchants, because they sell drugs to schoolkids and that isn't cool either. The other gangs in the city, I do know who you are but you're not on my list yet. You'll keep.So, the leaders of those gangs I just named: Kaiser, Lung, Coil, Skidmark. You have twenty-four hours to either a) leave town for good or b) surrender to the PRT. In twenty-four hours from midnight tonight, if you haven't all done this, I'm going to kill one of you that hasn't. Just one.Then I'll start the clock again.TL: DR – Kaiser, Lung, Coil, Skidmark. GTFO or die.Oh, and Lung? Yeah, that was me.Your move.With a flourish, I typed my chosen cape name.Atropos.Relevant Side Story
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Undersiders BaseJanuary 4, 20116:03 AMTattletaleLisa had chosen her ringtone, once upon a time, to be able to get her attention at any time or in any place. It had saved her bacon, metaphorically speaking, on more than one occasion. But now, after she'd been up until three in the morning doing a deep-dive into everything she could locate about the Ruby Dreams casino, it felt like broken glass scraping on the inside of her soul.I swear, once I wake up, I'm going to murder someone. With their own phone.But plans of mayhem aside, she had to answer the damn thing. So she fumbled across her nightstand until she located the musically buzzing demonic device. By way of sheer muscle memory, she flicked her thumb across the screen, then held it to her ear. "H'lo?""Tattletale."
It was Coil, of course. Very few other people she knew would be calling her at this insane hour, and in any case she worked with three of them (and lived with two).
"Wake up."Wedging one eye open, she peered blearily toward the window. Only the slightest glimmer of gray light crept around the curtains she had hanging there; she estimated that sunrise was still an hour away. "'S not even daylight yet," she mumbled. "C'n it wait 'til noon?""No. It cannot. This is a priority tasking, Tattletale."
His voice was crisp and commanding.
"Get up, now. Make coffee. I need your head clear for this.""Why?" she hated the whining tone in her voice, but
she'd been asleep, damn it!
Sometimes, a whine was
earned.
"'S it En'bringers?" She hoped it wasn't, and anyway, she couldn't hear sirens."This is
important."
She could hear him gritting his teeth.
"I need a threat assessment performed
immediately.
Once it's done, you can go back to bed."She still didn't see why he couldn't wait until midday, but if she pushed back too hard, he was likely to send a couple of mercenaries to yank her out of bed, shove her under an icy shower, and pour coffee down her throat until she was lucid. Or at least, that was what her power was telling her. Which would be a first; revealing to Brian and the others who their secret boss was would be a huge step.All of a sudden, she decided that she
wanted
to see what had his tights in a twist. "'Kay, 'm gettin' up."Half-falling out of bed, she stumbled from her bedroom to the kitchenette where she set the coffee machine going. Leaving her phone on the counter—Coil could listen to the machine gurgling, for all of her—she went back to the bathroom and shocked herself partially awake with a quick medium-chilly shower. By the time she was done and dressed, the coffee machine was ready to go, and she poured herself a fresh cup.The first jolt of caffeine served to clear her head almost completely, and she took the cup and her phone over to the sofa where she kept her laptop. It wasn't much of a guess that she was going to need it, so she hit the power button as she leaned back and took another mouthful of chemical wakefulness. "Okay, I guess I'm awake now. Hit me.""Good."
He still didn't sound happy.
"Go to the PHO boards, the new capes section. Look for Atropos. I need you to do a threat assessment. Call me back with your results."
He ended the call without further ado."Okay, okay," she muttered, dropping the phone beside her and sipping her coffee as the laptop booted up. It seemed as reluctant to wake up as she had been, and she briefly sympathised.Soon enough, it was up and running, and she clicked on the PHO tab she kept at the top of the screen. Navigating according to Coil's instructions, she found the thread he was referring to and began to read.
<><>
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♦ Topic: Hi there!In: Boards ► Brockton Bay ► New CapesAtropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me)Posted On Jan 3rd 2011:Good evening, Brockton Bay.I'm a new cape on the scene, but that doesn't mean I'm new to the city. And as anyone who knows the place will admit, it's a shithole.Who's to blame for this, you ask? Well, that's easy. The gangs. It's literally in their best interests to keep the cops looking the other way and the heroes chasing the small fish so the big fish can keep shitting in the water all day long.Well, I'm done with accepting that. So, here's what I've got to say. The gangs are no longer welcome in Brockton Bay. It's time for you to leave. The door's thataway.I am specifically calling out the Empire Eighty-Eight, the Azn Bad Boys, Coil's crew and fuck it, the Merchants, because they sell drugs to schoolkids and that isn't cool either. The other gangs in the city, I do know who you are but you're not on my list yet. You'll keep.So, the leaders of those gangs I just named: Kaiser, Lung, Coil, Skidmark. You have twenty-four hours to either a) leave town for good or b) surrender to the PRT. In twenty-four hours from midnight tonight, if you haven't all done this, I'm going to kill one of you that hasn't. Just one.Then I'll start the clock again.TL: DR – Kaiser, Lung, Coil, Skidmark. GTFO or die.Oh, and Lung? Yeah, that was me.Your move.Atropos
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►Mr UnhappyReplied On Jan 3rd 2011:Well, that was unhinged.
►Gritty Morty
Replied On Jan 3rd 2011:Fir--dammit!Well, this looks interesting.
►LightFromTheShadowsReplied On Jan 3rd 2011:Yeah. Interesting. Will watch from a distance.
►Ring IslandReplied On Jan 3rd 2011:And after that, what? Teatime with Alexandria?
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me)Replied On Jan 3rd 2011:If she asks politely.
►BirdsEyeReplied On Jan 3rd 2011:@Atropos ... if you can kill anything, how about killing all conflict on earth?
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me)Replied On Jan 3rd 2011:I could try, but I'm pretty sure I'd die of old age first.
►Hades82Replied On Jan 3rd 2011:Seconding (thirding?) interest.We've got a live one here, folks.
►TheSkinnyBlueGuyReplied On Jan 3rd 2011:Look upon the field where I grow my Fucks and behold for it is barren!... what? That's the vibe I'm getting.
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►GleamingGlareReplied On Jan 3rd 2011:Oh, boy.Because you know, villain capes NEVER escalate.
►UnconcernedFoxReplied On Jan 3rd 2011:*gets out the comfy chair and the popcorn*
►BirdsEyeReplied On Jan 3rd 2011:Okay then, could you kill bigotry? Racism? The idea of theft?Betrayal? Torture? Falsehood?
►SkyWalkerJAReplied On Jan 3rd 2011:I'm thinking the answer would be "would die of old age first".because, you know, those things are pretty entrenched
►JediMedicReplied On Jan 3rd 2011:@TheSkinnyBlueGuy - That's the exact thing I was thinking when I read OP post.
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me)Replied On Jan 3rd 2011:@TheSkinnyBlueGuy - that's kinda my jam now, yeah.
@SkyWalkerJA - Essentially, yes. I could kill that sort of thing in one person, right in front of me, but everyone everywhere? Way too tedious.
@GleamingGlare - and then I'll just have to cut a bitch.
►BigRedSharpie
(Moderator)Replied On Jan 3rd 2011:Okay, I'm done. This has gone on long enough. Thread is locked. Atropos, you just bought yourself a ticket to Ban-town.Maybe next time don't be so Edgy McEdgelord, hmm?
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me)Replied On Jan 3rd 2011:Meh, Ban-town was boring. I'm back.
►UnconcernedFoxReplied On Jan 3rd 2011:Hahahha*munches popcorn*
►GleamingGlare
Replied On Jan 3rd 2011:wut
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►BirdsEyeReplied On Jan 3rd 2011:Did you just ... did you just kill a threadban AND a threadlock?
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me)Replied On Jan 3rd 2011:Well, duh.
What part of 'can actually kill anything' did you not get the first time?
►SkyWalkerJAReplied On Jan 3rd 2011:Okay, I've got to ask. How did you add all the extra tags?
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me)Replied On Jan 3rd 2011:Killed the blocks preventing me from getting them. How else?
►BigRedSharpie
(Moderator)Replied On Jan 3rd 2011:I said, this thread is locked.
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me)Replied On Jan 3rd 2011:And I said it's not.Sorry, Sharpie. No hard feelings? I just wanna chat with my fans.
►Bagrat
(Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)Replied On Jan 3rd 2011:Okay, if this is how it's going down ...@Atropos - is it true you killed Oni Lee earlier tonight? Because there's a strong rumor that it was a new Death-themed cape, and your note for Lung above ...
►LotusBladeReplied On Jan 3rd 2011:Lung's rage is mightyAtropos will die to flameSo vows the dragon.
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me)Replied On Jan 3rd 2011:@LotusBlade - Yeah, yeah, get him to come talk to me himself.
@Bagrat - Wow, the Guy in the Know asking ME about stuff? I am honored, and I mean that totally unironically. yeah, that was me. Had to establish my credentials, y'know?
►Reave
(Verified PRT Agent)Replied On Jan 3rd 2011:Just to put all speculation to rest, yes, Oni Lee was approached by an unidentified person earlier tonight. That person disabled Lee's companion ABB members, then attacked Lee himself. In the ensuing melee, the suspect apparently took Lee's gun and shot him with it. The suspect was reportedly unharmed in the fight.When last seen, the suspect was wearing a black long-coat, a broad-brimmed hat, a black morph mask, and otherwise dark clothing. They may have armed themselves with Oni Lee's personal weapons.Personal description: tall, slender, long dark hair.If you encounter anyone matching this description, do NOT approach. Treat as armed and dangerous, and notify the PRT immediately.@Atropos - If you hand yourself over to the PRT now, we can avoid any more bloodshed, and I do include you in that. You have no idea of the amount of danger you're in right now, from handing out a reckless challenge like that. If you want to fight crime, that's not the way to do it. We prefer live heroes to dead vigilantes.
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►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me)Replied On Jan 3rd 2011:Aww, you almost sound like you actually care.
Hard pass, sorry. I've got a job to do, and Oni Lee was just the start.
Appreciate the offer, though.
►PureBlood01011000
(Temp-Banned)Replied On Jan 3rd 2011:I don't care what you do with Lung or the other idiots, but if you come near Kaiser, I hope you like having metal spikes in your everywhere.
►BigRedSharpie
(Moderator)Replied On Jan 3rd 2011:Okay, I can't lock this thread and I can't ban Atropos, but I can definitely ban other people. Let's tone down the ITG stuff, okay? As soon as someone with more pull than me gets online, this thread WILL be locked down, and everyone's posts will be examined to see if further actions need to be taken.Just calm your frontal lobes, people.
►WherewolfReplied On Jan 3rd 2011:So, uh ... I'm guessing the PRT is going to be going after Atropos now, and not the villains they're targeting? Because somehow Atropos is the bad guy now?
►Reave
(Verified PRT Agent)Replied On Jan 3rd 2011:There are no capes in Brockton Bay with a kill order on their heads. Everyone deserves due process and their day in court.
►RaRaRaReplied On Jan 3rd 2011:Well, that escalated quickly.
►SecretlyAJetFighterReplied On Jan 3rd 2011:Dayumn. That mic drop just went *subterranean*.
►BeginningToEndReplied On Jan 3rd 2011:Welp, naming yourself after the Greek personification of Fate and Death.Nope, not pretentious at all.
►dranastyReplied On Jan 3rd 2011:Okay, heroes and PRT going after Atropos, I get that. Murder is a crime.But seriously wow, how many people have the gangs killed, and they're not anywhere near the priority that Atropos is going to end up on, and for what reason? Because status quo is king?
►AuthorBugReplied On Jan 3rd 2011:@BeginningToEnd - Oni Lee might argue that point. Taking him and his flunkies out with no injuries? That takes more than luck. Just saying.
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►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me)Replied On Jan 3rd 2011:@BeginningToEnd - oh yeah, I know it's edgy. But hey, I gotta go with what works.
►Reave
(Verified PRT Agent)Replied On Jan 3rd 2011:@dranasty - it's more to do with the fact that if some of the gangs decide that Atropos is a false-flag operation designed to bring the opposition down in secret, we'll have all-out war in this town. And there's nowhere near enough heroes in BB to contain something like that.
►dranastyReplied On Jan 3rd 2011:@Reave - so, status quo. Got it.
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me)Replied On Jan 3rd 2011:Hahaha false flag? Is that what they're saying?
Nope. They're all going down or leaving town. One or the other. I don't care which.
Anyway, signing off. See you lovely people in the morning.
And remember: twenty-four hours.
Mwahahaha.
<><>
TattletaleBy the time she finished, the coffee cup was empty, but that was okay. Lisa was awake. She was
definitely
awake. Almost gingerly, as though she expected the name on the screen to jump out and bite her, she scrolled upward and read through the thread again, up to the point where Atropos had left the chat."Jeeesus H. Christ on a Tinkertech pogo stick," she muttered, putting the cup down on the sofa arm without looking. Chills were chasing each other up and down her spine, each one sparked by one of Atropos' seemingly off-hand comments.Some people could shout threats all day and not be intimidating. Others merely had to whisper. With Atropos, all she had to do was put words on a computer screen to scare the absolute
shit
out of Lisa.'The other gangs in the city, I do know who you are but you're not on my list yet. You'll keep.'That those words were aimed at her and the rest of the Undersiders, she had zero doubt whatsoever. Someone who had the sheer planetary-scale neutronium testicular fortitude to kill Oni Lee and call out
Lung
(as well as Kaiser, Coil and Skidmark) on the same night was absolutely not someone she wanted to cross. Especially since her personal assessment was that Atropos (signs pointed to her being a girl) was actually
capable
of carrying out the threat.It wasn't much of a comfort that they weren't on Atropos' list. She knew for a fact that the word 'yet' had been included deliberately. Once Atropos had finished dealing with the current big names in the city, then the list would be updated. And if the terrifying intent embodied in the initial greeting stayed the same (she had no reason to think it would change) then the Undersiders would be facing a stark choice, made none the easier for Coil being dead or elsewhere.
Leave the city, surrender, or die.Drawing a deep breath, she picked up her phone. The call went through with just one ring sounding in her ear.
"Yes?"For a moment, she was tempted to tweak him by drawing it out, then she mentally shook her head. "My assessment is 'yes'. Atropos is totally capable of doing whatever she says she can do. She intends to kill Lung, Kaiser, you and Skidmark. Barring unusual interference, she'll succeed." By 'unusual interference', she meant 'power shenanigans', and they both knew it."Even inside my base, with my mercenaries on high alert?"
He sounded more on edge than normal, which wasn't altogether surprising.
"How is she even going to find me?""I don't know. Maybe she can't." Lisa rubbed her forehead. A tiny headache was starting to grow, expanding each time she attempted to analyse Atropos' actual capabilities and weaknesses. "But every time I ask myself, 'can she kill everyone on the list?', my best answer is 'Yes'.""Can you tell me who she'll be going after first, at least?"
She didn't have to even wonder why he was asking that. If her power's analysis was correct, Atropos' initial target had less than eighteen hours to live.Leaning back against the sofa cushions, Lisa closed her eyes. "Nobody's going to be leaving town or surrendering to the PRT … unless you are?" Scornful silence greeted her sally. "Right, right. Silly of me. She won't be hitting Skidmark first. You aren't a hugely obvious target, so it's likely to be Kaiser or Lung. And she's already hit the ABB once.""So you're saying she'll probably go after Kaiser first."
He was clearly doing his best to sound calm and collected, but she could hear the tension behind his voice.
"How much faith do you have in that assessment?""A lot less than I have in knowing that she's dangerous as
fuck, and that I don't want to be in the same town as her if she's pissed at me," Lisa answered honestly. "Every time I try to venture a guess at her exact motivations or capabilities, I get back a vague answer plus a headache. As best I can tell, she's running a mild ongoing anti-Thinker effect. It's really irritating."
<><>
CoilYes. Yes, it is."Understood. If anything changes, let me know." Thomas Calvert ended the call and dropped the phone on his desk. Resting his elbows on his desk, he laced his fingers together and pressed his thumbs to his temples. Then he inhaled deeply and closed his eyes.What do I do?
There existed the outside possibility that his Tattletale was trying to panic him and stampede him from the city. But therein lay a dilemma. If it was just her playing her
irritating
little mind games, he could devote his full power (and all his men) to tracking her down and bringing her to heel. However, that would leave zero resources free for staying under the radar from Atropos.Atropos killed Oni Lee.
Thomas could not afford to ignore that fact. As such, he considered it only prudent to keep himself safe and secure, leaving Tattletale until after Atropos had been dealt with. While there was a two-in-three chance that he was not the assassin's current target (he agreed with Tattletale's assessment that Skidmark was more of an afterthought than a serious contender) he still considered a thirty-three percent chance of death to be unacceptably high.Opening his eyes again, he looked once more at the email displayed on his work laptop. Not only had they sent it out to all ranking PRT officers, but they'd also contacted each off-duty officer via phone to alert them to its presence and to inform them that they were now
on
duty. The phone calls had started going out at just before six in the morning, going by rank and alphabetical order; he supposed he should consider himself lucky that his surname began with C.It could be worse. The post did say midnight. By midnight, I'll be tucked away in absolute security and absolute obscurity.
His house in the suburbs had a state-of-the-art alarm system, and his bunker under the city held fifty well-armed mercenaries, each one as loyal as money could buy.In the best case, Atropos would take out Lung or Kaiser before she was inevitably killed. Either way, he would benefit.I always win.
<><>
KaiserMax Anders rose a little after seven and enjoyed a moderate workout in his home gymnasium, followed by a stinging-hot shower and a healthy breakfast. He ate looking out toward the Bay from the patio of his three-storey house on the slopes of Captain's Hill; by half-past eight, he was finished and ready to go to work. With a nod to his butler—the less well-off could scoff, but having someone to anticipate one's needs could be
invaluable
at times—he dressed in the immaculate suit that had been laid out for him and descended in the elevator to the six-car garage.As he settled into the genuine leather seat of his preferred town car, the driver pressed the button on the dash and the garage door motored open. He took up the morning copy of the Financial Times from the seat beside him and prepared to see how his stocks had performed overnight. But just as the car exited the garage, his phone vibrated in his pocket.With a slight frown on his face—the caller ID indicated an Empire 88 call, rather than one for business—he pressed the button that raised the soundproof barrier between himself and his driver. While his personal employees were selected for their views, none of them knew of his connection to the Empire. What they didn't know, they couldn't talk about, even by accident."Yes?""There's a potential problem." Krieg was normally as unflappable as a man could get. Right now, however, he sounded a little stressed.
"A cape showed up last night, killed Oni Lee in public, then announced on PHO that they're going after the gangs. Specifically; you, Lung, Coil and Skidmark.""That can't be right. How did they kill Oni Lee?" God knew the Empire had tried enough times over the last few years."He was shot in the face with his own gun at a range of six feet. Our current theory is combat precog. The cape's name is Atropos.""Well, damn." Whoever had pulled that little stunt off had done very well indeed. 'Atropos'—the member of the Fates who cut the thread and ended the life of mortals—was a good name for someone who could manage that. Then the rest of what Krieg had said caught up with him. "What do you mean, they're coming after me personally?" That was never good news; even the most inept of assassins could get lucky, eventually."I'm emailing you the link to the PHO thread. It's all the information we have, right there.""Okay, thanks." Max ended the call. Pressing the intercom, he spoke to the driver. "I've just received word of a potential threat. Move our posture to high security."Through the glass, he saw the driver nod. "Yes, sir."With the high security protocols, the window glass darkened until it was impossible to see in, and three other town cars would be exiting garages within the next few minutes. Each one identical to the one he was currently riding in, they would all take different routes to the Medhall building, where the secure undercover parking lot would be waiting for them. It was so
nice
to have money to throw at problems like this.The initial precautions taken care of, he opened the email that had just dropped into his phone. From there he went into the PHO thread and began reading.A problem,
he decided after he'd finished.
But not an insurmountable one. Either Lung will get Atropos, or my security will. And if they don't, I will.Everything was, as always, under control.
<><>
TaylorI was in the middle of eating breakfast when Kaiser popped into my awareness. He was aware of me and my challenge, just as Coil was. Lung had, of course, been aware since last night; his seething rage had barely abated since then. About the only one who hadn't heard about it was Skidmark. In fact, none of the Merchants had.That didn't matter.They had three days to learn about it.In the meantime, Kaiser, Lung and Coil awaited my attention; not necessarily in that order.Eeny, meeny, miney moe …
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Taylor
Leaning on the window frame, I let the chill winter breeze wash over my face as Dad maneuvered the car through Brockton Bay's morning traffic. I'd been a little hasty with killing Sophia, I decided. It would've been much better to have shot her with a crossbow or something, but she hadn't been thoughtful enough to provide one. Going the extra mile to provide my targets with a fitting kill was something I should aim for.
Oni Lee … well, I'd shot him with his own gun, so that was fitting enough, I figured. Blowing him up with his own grenade would've been even more so, but my power hadn't offered any options for doing it that way. Meh, I was okay with how it had turned out. Also, I'd scored an absolutely rockin' costume, so that was a plus point for just shooting him.
Which left my next four targets. Skidmark was maybe the easiest of the lot. He was into the drug scene, so he'd have to die by drugs. I wasn't really sure what Coil's thing was; maybe a coil of rope to tie him up and hang him by? Kaiser, I was thinking I could kill with a metal spike or spear or something, and Lung … hmm.
Lung was going to be difficult, I could just tell. Burning him to death was a non-starter, but what about an explosion? That was thematically similar to fire. But I couldn't just throw a grenade at him; my power helpfully informed me that he
would
survive such an attack if he was at all ramped up.
But then it started making suggestions. Very
interesting
suggestions. Suggestions which, if I made the right preparations, were eminently possible to carry out.
"Taylor?" Dad's voice jolted me out of my reverie.
"Yeah?" I looked around, realising that we'd parked and he had his door half-open. "Oh. We're there. Sorry, I zoned out for a bit."
"That's okay. Don't stress about it. Tell them what you saw, and don't try to embellish, alright? I'll be right there."
"Thanks." I wound up the window and got out, making sure to lock the door as I did so. "Sorry for having to put you through this."
He stepped up onto the sidewalk and ruffled my hair. "It's my job to be there for you. No big deal. Trust me, there'd be many dads accompanying their kid to the local precinct who'd
love
to swap out with us."
That hadn't been what I'd meant. I was about to drop a massive bomb on him that he just wasn't ready for, but there wasn't any way I could warn him ahead of time that wouldn't have other consequences down the line. But we'd get through it; once it was dropped, I'd be able to minimise the fallout, but only then. My power was really good at
ending
stuff, but only so-so at preventing it before it ever happened.
Besides, this way would play right into ending suspicion on me.
We walked into the precinct station, me in my hoodie, baggy jeans and ancient sneakers, and Dad in his Association working clothes. A bunch of other kids I vaguely recognised as Winslow students were sitting around, accompanied by adults who were probably their parents; I neither knew nor cared. It looked to be standing room only for the moment, but that didn't matter either. I could plan just as well standing up as sitting down.
As Dad and I joined the line to speak to the police officer on the front counter, a door opened and Emma emerged with her father. They saw us at the same time as Dad saw them, and they came our way. Or rather, Alan Barnes came our way while Emma reluctantly tagged along.
"Alan," Dad greeted his old friend. "Fancy meeting you here." His wry grin and handshake went unanswered, and he frowned.
"Good to see you too, Dan." Emma's father had a pained look on his face. "Sorry, we can't stay. Emma and I have some things to talk about." He looked over at me. "For what it's worth, Taylor, I'm sorry."
I eyed Emma speculatively. Her makeup might have fooled some people, but I knew her rather better than that, and she looked like hell. She also looked terrified of me, while desperately trying to hide it.
"Emma," I said neutrally. "It's good to see you. I hope you're doing well?"
"I'm-I'm okay," she jerked out. "You-you look good too."
I put my hand on her shoulder and she flinched, but stopped short of pulling away. "It's alright," I said just loudly enough for the adults to hear. "Go mourn your friend. I'll see you later."
"Th-thanks." She leaned closer and lowered her voice until only I could hear her. "I'm sorry. For-for everything."
I moved my lips close to her ear. "I know," I whispered back. Then I let her go and stepped back. "Bye, Emma."
"B-bye, Taylor." She huddled close to her father.
I looked up at Alan Barnes and nodded. "Thanks. I appreciate that."
He nodded in return. "Well, time to go, Dan. See you around?"
"Count on it." Dad waved briefly, then turned to me as we moved up in line. "What the hell was that about? Why was my oldest friend apologising to you? And what was wrong with Emma?"
"Tell you in a minute, Dad." I nodded toward the desk sergeant to remind him why we were in line.
We got to the counter, and Dad gave his name, my name, the reason we were here, and the name of the police officer I was supposed to be seeing, a Detective Andrews. The sergeant checked his list, verified via my student card that my name was indeed Taylor Anne Hebert, and nodded. "Take a seat … if you can find one. He'll be with you shortly."
We went and found an empty spot where nobody seemed inclined to eavesdrop on us, then Dad turned his attention my way again. "So, tell me. Why was Alan apologising to you? And what's going on with you and Emma? I would've expected you to be all over each other like a rash, but it was like you didn't even want to be in the same room as each other. When did you two stop being best friends?"
"Year before last," I said bluntly. "I got back from summer camp and she had new friends, and didn't want to be bothered with me anymore. When we started at Winslow, she doubled down. Went from 'no longer friends' to active enemies. They all started bullying me."
His eyes widened. "What the … oh,
hell
no! When I see Alan next—"
"He didn't know anything about it," I interrupted. "But I'm pretty sure he does now. I didn't tell you for the longest time because you were still getting over Mom, and I figured I could handle it myself." I could
feel
my voice patterns changing to sound more convincing, along with my body language. It was working; he was still engaged, still listening to me. "After winter break, I think they'd decided that I wasn't worth it anymore. They still said a few things to me, but it was half-hearted, tapering off. And then this happened."
"What's this got to do with what Emma was doing to you?" He still sounded pissed.
I took a deep breath for effect. "The girl who died was one of the major instigators, apart from Emma. I'm thinking she found someone else to pick on, and it went badly. Emma was … they had some sort of emotional co-dependency thing going on, and now she's gone."
"I still think I should talk to Alan—"
I shook my head. "No need. You saw her. She's a total wreck. She couldn't bully a newborn kitten right now. I hate what she did, but there's no point in kicking her when she's down."
"I guess you're right." He grimaced. "Why didn't you tell me earlier?"
"Like I said, you had enough on your plate, and I thought I had to handle it myself." I shook my head. "I know, stupid. But I guess it's one of those rare situations that solved itself, in a really weird way."
"After more than a year of bullying." The scowl had settled on his face. "I can't believe Alan didn't know."
"It's amazing what people don't see if they don't want to see it." I said it lightly, but I saw him flinch anyway. While the statement hadn't been aimed specifically at him, it was still accurate enough to sting.
"Well, not anymore." He set his jaw. "From now on, I'm Dad on deck. You have any problems, you bring them to me."
"If I have any problems, I will absolutely bring them to you," I promised. Of course, I didn't intend for anything to get to the level of
being
a problem, but he didn't need to know that.
We stood a little longer in companionable silence as names were called. From time to time, we glanced at the clock.
"How many classes are you going to be missing out of this?" he asked.
I shrugged. "The school doesn't expect me back until after lunch. Once we're finished here, I can take the bus there while you go to work."
"Hm. Okay."
"Hebert!" We both turned our heads as the voice called out. "Taylor Hebert!"
"That's me," I responded.
It was time to go lie my ass off to the police.
<><>
Danny
This was not Danny's first rodeo, not by a long shot. He'd already cautioned Taylor about saying too much or embellishing her words, and it seemed that she'd taken his advice to heart.
"So," began Detective Andrews. He was a big man, with muscle starting to go to fat, with thinning brown hair. "Tell me about your day at Winslow yesterday. Just the highlights, to begin with." He held his pen ready with his notepad, though Danny was sure there was a recorder running.
Taylor nodded. "Well, my first class was Computers, with Mrs Knott, then the second was World Affairs, with Mr Gladly. After that, I went and had lunch, then read for a while in the library. Then I went to art class, then math class, and that's when they made the announcement that we had to wait back."
Detective Andrews made some notes. "Okay, on your way from the library to the art classroom, did you see or hear anything happening in room thirty-nine A?"
Taylor frowned. "That's where it happened? No, that classroom isn't used at that time of day. The door was closed."
Scribble, scribble. "Understood. Now, how well did you know Sophia Hess?"
Lifting her head, Taylor pressed her lips together before answering. "I knew her. Along with Emma Barnes and Madison Clements. They made my life a complete hell over the last year and a bit."
"Really?" Andrews' brows rose. "She was bullying you?"
"Yes." Taylor leaned forward slightly. "If Emma or Madison say any differently, they're
lying. I've been tripped, shoved, had stuff stolen from my locker, had glue or glitter or juice put on my seat, had my assignments stolen and stories spread about me. If there's a checklist of what school bullies do, they've ticked off everything."
"Hmm." Detective Andrews made a few more notes. "So, what was the last thing they did to bully you?"
Taylor didn't have to stop and think. "Just after World Affairs, I was heading to the cafeteria. I ran into Sophia. She tried to shove me around, but I bluffed her into thinking a teacher was watching. Come to think of it, she was pretty half-hearted about it, like she was getting bored with the whole thing. Then I went to have lunch. Emma and Madison came up to me then, but the same as Sophia, it was like they were just going through the motions. They didn't even try to tip my tray over or spill my juice on me."
"Is that the last you saw of them before the announcement in math class?" More notes were made.
"Um …" Taylor paused. "No. I went to the library after I finished lunch, and I saw Sophia come in while I was browsing the stacks. I didn't know if she was looking for me or Emma and Madison, so I just stayed out of her way. That was the last time I saw her. I didn't see Madison at all for the rest of the day, and I saw Emma in math class. She left the classroom just before the announcement. I think she had an upset stomach or something."
"I see." Detective Andrews flipped to a new page. "With all this, I think it's fair to say you might have been justified in holding a grudge against Miss Hess?"
Taylor didn't laugh out loud, but she did let out a rather bitter chuckle. "A grudge? Yeah, I think you could say that. I hated her guts. I still hate Emma and Madison. Not that I could do a damn thing about it, but I hated her. Wouldn't you?"
"I might," admitted the detective. "But holding a grudge, even for the level of bullying you seem to have gone through, doesn't justify murder."
"Wait, wait," protested Danny for the first time. "Detective, are you seriously accusing my daughter—"
"Dad, chill." Taylor waved him down. "Detective, how did she die? I doubt she was shot, because I know damn well Hollywood lies about silencers. Stabbed? Hit over the head with something from behind? Choked out?"
Detective Andrews drew a deep breath, then released it. "She was beaten to death," he admitted reluctantly. "Using advanced martial arts moves. Crushed larynx, shattered ribs, stopped heart."
Taylor snorted. "Well, that leaves me out, then. My most advanced martial arts form is best described as Way of the Chicken." Still sitting down, she performed a credible impression of someone running for their life.
Danny felt relief seeping through him. He'd always known Taylor was innocent, and now he could prove it. "It's true. She's never had martial arts training. I know, because I never paid for any."
"May I see your hands, Taylor?" asked the detective.
"Sure." Taylor stood up and stepped forward, holding her hands out in front of her.
Without touching them, the detective examined her knuckles carefully. Then he shook his head. "The amount of training it takes to deliver blows like that flawlessly would leave unmistakeable calluses on your hands, and probably break a few bones in the process. You don't have anything like that."
"Yeah, screw that." Taylor sat down again. "I like having my hands the same shape they've always been, thanks."
"I can understand that." Andrews drew a line under his notes and closed the notepad. "Well, my condolences for what you had to go through, and I doubt we'll be needing to speak with you again."
"Good to hear," Danny said. "I hope you catch whoever did this, before they kill someone else."
<><>
Taylor
Keeping a tight control on my expression so I wouldn't even crack a smile—way too late for that, Dad—I followed Dad and Detective Andrews out to the main lobby, where the next would-be witnesses were called in. Heading out through the main doors, we ended up on the sidewalk.
"Well, that was that," he said, dusting his hands off. "Thanks for giving me the heads-up about Emma and her friends
before
we spoke to the detective, but honestly, you could've told me sooner. I would've done something about it, made sure you didn't have to live through all that crap they did to you."
"I could have, yeah," I admitted. "I guess some part of me wanted to make it my problem to fix. But it's over and done with now, anyway." And it was, just like the investigation into me. Detective Andrews had been the main one to suspect me for the killing since he'd been given my name, and now there was no suspicion there at all; I'd killed it stone dead.
"Are you sure you're okay with taking the bus to school?" he asked, gesturing toward the car. "I can drop you off on the way to work."
I snorted and rolled my eyes. "I don't have to be back until after lunch. Give me the chance to enjoy my freedom while I can, huh?"
"You raise an extremely valid point. Well, have fun and don't be late to class." He gave me a quick hug, which I returned. "It's good to have you back, Taylor."
"Likewise, Dad." I watched him go to the car, start it, and pull out into traffic. Before he was even out of sight, I turned and started walking in the other direction.
According to the wall clock within the precinct, it was ten-thirty. Lunch ended at twelve forty-five. I had two hours and fifteen minutes to play with, and I intended to make the most of that time.
The first thing I needed was money. While it was
possible
to steal the items I wanted, it would take too much time. Simply being able to hand over money streamlined the process immensely.
Of course, I was going to steal the money, because at some point theft had to enter the equation if I was going to acquire resources quickly. Not that I had a problem with stealing; I was already murdering people, and running a path to killing my current cash flow problem was small potatoes next to that.
Assuming a detached in-a-hurry air, I hustled down the sidewalk, eyes front, not even bothering to scope out the people I was passing by. I'd never practised this in my life, but just like the martial arts thing, it didn't matter; the hand was quicker than the eye. Before I'd gone fifty yards, I had a wallet in the right-hand pocket of my hoodie.
Continuing my onward march, I opened the wallet without removing it from my pocket, extracted and counted the cash by touch, then pulled a cash card out of it. An ATM beckoned; with my sleeves pulled over my knuckles, I sidled up to it. One hand casually covered the pinhole camera, while the other slid the card into the slot and tapped in the PIN without hesitation. The balance on the card was worth thousands, but I only needed a few hundred to cover what I wanted to do. I entered that amount and waited.
Thirty seconds later, the machine spit out the required amount of cash. I took it and the card, and moved on. My skin had not touched the machine once. A garbage truck rumbled past; I flicked the wallet, with the card back in it, up into the load. It wasn't my problem anymore.
Next, my footsteps led me to an electronics hobby store. The plan I had in mind was a little grandiose, but that was all part of the fun. However, it also meant I was going to need some items it was easier to buy or steal than make.
The guy at the counter looked up as I wandered in. I pretended to meander back and forth, but I knew what I needed. I also knew that the counter attendant was watching to make sure none of the stock vanished into my hoodie pockets. Well, the joke was on him; I was going to buy it fair and square.
What I placed on the counter was a hodgepodge of electronic devices and tools, about half of which I actually needed and the other half protective camouflage. When he raised his eyebrows, I shrugged. "Science project. I don't even know what half this stuff does." Which was technically true, but it didn't matter.
"Suit yourself." He rang it up on the register, and I paid with cash, throwing in a few coins from my bus change purse to make it look good. Moments later, I left the shop, holding my hand in front of my face just in time to avoid getting mugshot by the sole security camera they could afford.
Around the corner, and fifty yards down the road, was a parked motorcycle with a helmet hanging off the back. With two of the tools from the electronics shop, I bypassed the ignition and had the cycle started almost as fast as I could've done it with the key. Then I pulled the helmet on, swung astride the bike, and took off.
Halfway to my destination—I wasn't even sure where I was going, except that it was toward Captain's Hill, and I was on my way to collect a metal spike to murder Kaiser with—I pulled over and parked next to a locksmith. I had no idea what I needed there, but I was learning not to question my power.
"Hi," I said giddily as I swept into the shop. "Now, this is going to sound really weird, but my boyfriend and me are having our six-month anniversary real soon, and I wanted to give him a special gift but I can't afford much, so I was wondering if I could buy one of your keys there and get you to engrave something like 'key to my heart' on it, pretty please?"
The old guy behind the counter didn't even blink. "Sure," he said, and indicated the rows of key blanks. "Got a preference, kid?"
"Um, um, um," I said, pretending indecision. Then I pointed at the one I needed—for what, I wasn't sure yet. "That one, right there. It's the prettiest."
"Okay," he grunted and slid the blank off the hook. "That'll be ten bucks."
"Thank you
so
much," I gushed, watching as he expertly engraved the words into the blank. I didn't need the engraving, of course, but it was a convenient excuse for acquiring a key blank.
Back on the bike, the key in my pocket, I kept moving. About five minutes later, a citywide ping reached me; the owner of the motorcycle had discovered that his ride was missing, and had informed the police. They were now looking for the motorcycle (and by inference, the thief—me).
I kept riding.
Two detours later, to avoid police officers who'd gotten the message about the stolen bike, I was definitely in the more affluent area of Brockton Bay. Multi-story houses with attached swimming pools, gated communities, the works. I wasn't quite sure
why
I was here, but here I was.
I stashed the bike in a quiet side street and went on by foot. My destination was apparently a three-story edifice complete with a patio and a high stone wall all around it. Taking a run-up, I went up the wall like a startled squirrel and vaulted over the top to land and roll on the far side.
Keeping low, I darted through the immaculately topiaried shrubbery until I reached a discreetly placed back door. In place of a lock, it had an electronic keypad; using my sleeve-covered knuckle, I tapped in the code. The door obediently opened with a discreet
click,
and I entered.
The interior was utterly gorgeous, with works of art here and there that were undoubtedly worth more than our entire house and contents put together. A crack team of burglars could've made millions in fifteen minutes, given the run of the place. But I wasn't here for that.
Sneaking through the corridors, I tried one specific door and it opened into a luxuriously appointed study. And here was what I was looking for; a huge glass case, taking up part of one wall, exhibiting swords and knives of all kinds, from great six-foot-long monstrosities to little tiny things barely longer than my hand.
Two of them caught my eye. One was a solid-looking double-edged sword with a weird S-shaped crossguard, apparently used by some knight to defend some castle, back in the day. And the other … was a pair of shears. Not just any shears, but shears that could
also
be used as a dagger. The handle even featured a crossbar. It even came with its own sheath.
It would
totally
fit my image as Atropos.
Oh, yes. I want.
The glass case was locked with another keypad; I didn't even have to think about it as my fingers tapped the code in. Moments later, I was the proud owner of a sword and a set of dagger-shears.
Leaving the house was about as uneventful as the entry had been, even with my ill-gotten goods. Apparently my power allowed me to emulate Olympic level gymnasts at the top of their game, even while wearing jeans and a hoodie.
The sword did pose a slight problem when I went to get back on the bike; it hadn't come with a sheath, and there was no handy scabbard attached to the bike itself. I ended up sliding it down the back of my hoodie so the tip poked out the bottom, and the hilt rested against the back of my helmet. It wasn't an ideal solution, but it worked for the time being.
Stealing a car, I decided, was much more convenient.
I abandoned the bike about three streets away from our house. Once again, I wiped down everything I'd touched, trying to at least blur any fingerprints that they might find. With the sword blade up my sleeve and the hilt in the bag with the electronic items I was carrying, it didn't
look
like I was wandering around with a three-foot stolen blade, which was all I needed.
When I got in the back door, the clock was showing a quarter to twelve, which meant lunch had just started. I had an hour to get there.
Taking my spoils down into the basement, I used a screwdriver from Dad's toolkit to remove the plywood covering the old coal chute, and stashed the sword and electronic bits in there, alongside Oni Lee's grenades and pistol. Then I screwed it back on, headed back upstairs, and left the shears with the rest of my costume. That, at least, came with a sheath.
Time was starting to get a little tight, so I threw together a sandwich and grabbed an apple and a juice box from the fridge. I jogged the two blocks to the bus stop, and caught the next one heading in the right direction. As the bus drove off, I took a satisfied bite out of the sandwich.
<><>
Winslow High School12:40 PM
The bus stopped outside the school and I got off. Moving with a fast stride, I made my way up the steps and into the school proper.
May it be ever so grimy.
I got to my locker just as the bell rang; as I opened it, I appreciated the fact that nobody else had filled it full of crap while I was gone. The faint waft of bleach, and the entire lack of paint on the inside of the locker, showed me just how hard the cleaning staff had worked to get rid of the mess. They'd even bent the door back into shape, which was kind of impressive. Grabbing my backpack, I shoved my art supplies and math textbook in there, then added the pencil case that I'd taken from Emma's locker.
When I closed the locker door, Madison was standing there.
"Oh, hey," I said. "Is this an official visit, or are we two ships passing in the night?"
She took a deep breath, twisting her fingers together. "Emma and me, we talked to the police today." The words came in a rush.
"Mm-hmm," I said. "So did I. What did you tell them?" I didn't tell her that I'd seen Emma in the precinct. She'd learn soon enough.
"That we bullied you. All three of us." I could see her clenching her fists hard enough to whiten her knuckles. "I've been grounded
forever, and Dad's taking my phone away after school. Is that enough? Is that good enough?"
I nodded. "It's a start." Slinging my backpack over my shoulder, I headed off to art class.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Later That AfternoonHebert Household BasementTaylorI pressed the button on the tiny remote; with a tiny whine, the jaws opened against the spring holding them closed. Releasing the button let the jaws snap shut again. I carefully didn't press the
second
button on the remote, which would overload the tiny battery powering the whole gizmo and deconstruct it explosively.I hadn't even known that was possible, up until now.Resting on the workbench were several other devices with similar applications, all constructed from the bits and pieces I'd purchased from the electronics store. I wasn't sure what they were going to be used for, but I had no doubt it would be impressive.Setting the remote aside, I took up the key that the locksmith had engraved for me. Thirty seconds with an angle-grinder had erased some of the engraving, and transformed it into a functional key. For what, I
still
had no idea, but I was sure I would find out.(And yes, I was impressed that my power could freestyle a working key in thirty seconds with an angle grinder. I mean,
damn).However, I was done here for the moment. Bundling everything together, I put it back in the coal chute and screwed the wood facing back on. By the time the car tyres crunched on the gravel in the driveway, I had washed my hands and face, and was hard at work prepping a lasagne in the kitchen."Hi, Taylor," Dad said as he opened the back door. "How was the rest of your day?"I shrugged and kept on with my task. "Eh, got stuff done. Nobody messed with me."He slapped me on the shoulder on the way past to the fridge. "Best kind of day."
<><>
Under the Medhall BuildingHookwolfBradley shook his head. "Oni Lee wasn't any kind of pushover," he said flatly. "I fought him enough times to know that. If this Atropos asshole offed him and says they're gonna go after you, I think you should take some kinda precautions.""That's what I've been saying," James replied. "Max. What are your thoughts on the matter?"Max ran his hand over his face and looked around at his two lieutenants. In his hand was an untouched glass of bourbon, the ice slowly melting into the drink. "Sorry, I'm a little distracted. When I got home, I found some of my property missing. Someone not only penetrated the security system, but filched two items out of my private collection of blades. My
katzbalger
and the bodice shears are gone. All the cameras caught was a shadow on the edge of the frame.""Shit, that sucks." Bradley went for a sympathetic tone. "How much were they worth, anyway? Was it the gold-plated stuff?""No, and that's what I can't figure out," Max snarled. He clenched his free hand into a fist and thumped it on the table. "The thief walked straight past pieces of art worth six figures, and took none of it. They went straight to my study, opened the display case without tripping the alarm, and took exactly two pieces, neither of which is strikingly unique or intrinsically valuable. Then they left again."James shrugged. "So we approach it from that end. Why would someone want those two specific pieces?
Who
would want them?""There's a few capes out there who like the whole medieval look," Bradley offered. "I mean, Armsmaster's got that fucking halberd.""But that's Tinkertech," James objected. "Max's collection is all genuine antiques. A sword is just a sword. Shears are just shears. Who needs shears?"Bradley chuckled. "Parian? You know, for cutting up the cloth for her stupid stuffed animals?""Wait." Max sat upright, his eyes opening wide. "Shears. Cutting cloth.""Yeah, that's what I just said." Bradley eyed his boss warily. "You okay there?""Motherfucker." It was like Max hadn't heard him. "Shears.
You know who else uses shears to cut things?"Bradley shared a glance of mutual incomprehension with James, then shrugged. "Fucked if I know."Max looked at the other two. "Did you ever learn about the three Fates in school? Clotho, who spun the threads of people's lives, Lachesis, who measured them out … and Atropos, who cut them
using shears?"A silence descended on the trio, that lasted almost thirty seconds."So it was Atropos," James said slowly. "They were right there. In your
house.""It might
not
have been them," Bradley objected, but it sounded weak even to his ears."Really?" Max's lips were pulled back in a snarl. "You think so? Exactly two things were taken. A German
landsknecht's sword, and a pair of shears. That's a message if I ever saw one. 'I know you're Kaiser, signed Atropos'."Bradley didn't get it. "So it's a German sword. What's that got to do with anything?""Because," Max said with an air of strained patience, "it was once owned by Kaiser Wilhelm the first. My father built the collection
around
it."Well,
that
put a whole new meaning on things. "Oh. Oh, shit.""It's clear that your house isn't safe anymore, that's for certain," James decided. "Maybe you should actually think about …"Bradley shook his head. "Nope. Don't even go there.""No." Max's voice was firm. "If you were about to say, 'think about leaving town', that's not a possibility. I
am
the Empire Eighty-Eight; the Empire Eighty-Eight is me. I inherited this team from my father, and I
refuse
to abandon it like this. Besides, if word got out, how would it look? All people would have to do is post a credible death threat on PHO, and I leave town? They could cripple us at a whim!""Your death would also be a huge setback." James took a sip of his drink. "I do agree. You must not be seen to flee from a potential assassin. But your house is clearly not secure enough for this matter. I think … right here, in this building, is the best place to be. Electronic security is one thing to defeat. But no matter how stealthy this Atropos is, I doubt they could fight their way past our entire cape contingent to get to you."Bradley cracked his knuckles with a series of metallic pops. "Damn right."If this Atropos seriously decided to come after Kaiser, he decided, they would regret it
very fucking briefly.
<><>
ABB TerritoryLungDespite his anger, Kenta's power lay quiescent. Nobody threatened him directly; midnight was still hours away. He looked down at the dark stain on the sidewalk where Oni Lee had died. A single shot to the face with his own gun. The autopsy, he'd heard through his own sources, had revealed a tiny mass of sodden ash at the far end of the wound channel.Atropos had taken his gun and grenades. The final insult. She'd left Lee's mask and combat knife though, which was good. The latter had been retrieved by Isamu before he fled.Lung had brought Isamu along with him, despite the idiot's broken arm (now splinted, and in a sling) and bandaged head. The young man spoke Vietnamese as well as his native Japanese, which would be useful; the proprietor of the shop spoke little to no English, and Kenta's own Vietnamese was limited to extremely crude subjects. He wanted exactly
zero
misunderstandings, going forward.Waving to his other five men to stay where they were, he stepped forward and pushed the shop door open. A tiny bell jingled cheerily as he did so. From within the shop appeared an elderly lady, who bowed deeply and said something. One of her assistants spoke up. "Great Lung, we—""Silence!" barked Kenta. "My man will translate." Turning his head slightly, he nodded to Isamu. "What did the old lady say?"Isamu cleared his throat. "She said, 'Great Lung, we are honoured by your presence in our humble shop.'""Hm." Kenta glared at her. She bowed again, then went to her knees. "Ask her where my money is."Isamu spoke briefly. The lady replied quickly, barely above a whisper, trembling the whole time. Clenching his fists, Isamu stepped forward, but Kenta held up his hand. "Stop! What was that about?"Breathing deeply through his nostrils, Isamu gritted the words out. "She says, 'I don't know. Perhaps that masked girl took it from you.'"That was highly possible.
It was what Kenta would have done. "Ask her what happened when the girl entered the shop."A brief conversation ensued. "She says the girl required them to outfit her with a costume. After she killed Oni Lee, they were too afraid not to do what she said. The girl spoke Vietnamese fluently, better than me, she says.""And you say she was white?" Kenta was pretty sure that was one of the details he'd been told. White girls who spoke Vietnamese that well were few and far between.Isamu nodded, but carefully. "Yes. I remember wondering if she was a tourist."Kenta frowned. That was actually a good point. Was this a cape from out of town, instead of a local? He wasn't sure how to check that. "Ask them if they saw the girl's face while they were outfitting her." He'd already established that none of the three men had seen her closely enough to recall any details. Concussions tended to have that effect.Once more, Isamu passed on the query. The old lady answered, along with a hand gesture that covered the lower half of her face. When she'd finished, Isamu turned to Kenta. "She had a mask over her mouth and nose. Whenever she took it off, she turned her back on everyone.""Of course she did," sighed Kenta. If this was a newcomer to the game, she was being very slick about it. "Did she seem to need her glasses, or were they just part of a disguise?" Isamu had mentioned the glasses, earlier, but Kenta doubted they could be worn over a morph mask.The question made the old lady pause and think. Eventually, she shook her head. Kenta had his answer before Isamu translated. "She says no, the girl did not seem to have any sort of vision problems after she took her glasses off."At least his men wouldn't be wasting their time looking for girls
with
glasses. "And she was tall, skinny, with long dark hair?"The old lady bowed briefly and spoke a few words. Isamu snorted, then turned to Kenta. "She said, 'Great Lung knows all.' I think she is mocking you.""I know mockery when I hear it." Kenta's tone was mildly censorious. "She would not dare mock me or lie to me." He doubted that the old lady
liked
him, but fear and respect were wolves that ran side by side and could easily be mistaken for one another. He didn't need friends; he just needed obedience."Should I tell her to hand over the protection money again?""Hm." Kenta considered it. "No. Tell her that in my generosity, I will forgive her the money this time, but in return I expect her to contact me
immediately
if the girl comes back, and to keep the girl talking until I arrive.""Yes, sir." Isamu turned to the old lady, and rattled off a speech. Her reply was much shorter, and punctuated with another bow that put her forehead to the ground."She said, 'It will be done, great Lung.'" Isamu frowned. "I don't trust her."Kenta turned toward the door of the shop. "I trust her to see to her own best interests. She knows that if the girl is seen in this shop again and she
doesn't
call me, I will burn it down with her inside."Isamu followed him out; the door swung shut behind them. "But you didn't tell me to tell her that."Turning to face his minion, Kenta smiled coldly. "Some things, you don't have to translate."
<><>
TaylorDad wanted to talk over dinner. I liked that he was engaging more, even if it narrowed my window for getting out and performing long-delayed retribution on some people who desperately needed it. So, after we cleared the table, we sat back and chatted.Of course, he wanted to talk about Emma."What do you think happened to her, to make her turn on you?" he asked helplessly. "She was your best friend, for crying out loud!""I'm not totally sure," I said, though I had my suspicions. "Whatever it was, Sophia was at the centre of it. But it's not even all Sophia's fault, I don't think. Emma's always been a little … fragile. When she's got plenty of support, she's fine. But take that away, and she shatters. And when whatever it was happened, Sophia helped put her back together wrongly." I shrugged. "You saw what she was like when she lost Sophia.""That's a little cold, isn't it?" Dad shook his head. "Emma was your best friend for years. Now she's a quivering wreck. I never knew this Sophia, but she was a human being too. You can't just dismiss them out of hand like that.""Why not?" I asked reasonably. "They spent the better part of a year and a half doing their best to destroy me. Emma looked me in the eye and tore down Mom's memory in front of everyone. She chose to stop being my friend, and Sophia simply chose to be my enemy. I owe them nothing."I hadn't raised my voice, but Dad still flinched. "Okay, yeah, I get it. You're still pissed at them. Believe me, I understand. I would be too. But at some point you have to learn to let things go, or it'll eat you up inside.""No," I said. "You don't understand. I'm not angry at them, but I'm not about to forgive them either. I've literally stopped
caring
about them. Where they go, what they do, so long as it's not near me, I simply don't give a fuck."He blinked. "Oh. Well, uh, that's … I suppose that's actually a very mature way to look at things. It's not one that I've ever mastered." A self-deprecating chuckle. "The best I ever did was learn to walk away before I punched someone."I shrugged in return. "That's probably a good skill to have if your problems don't keep following you around the school. And if they'd kept it up after winter break, I would've come to you about it. But they didn't, and Sophia pulled her shit on someone who really wasn't going to take it, and here we are.""Which is a matter of concern in and of itself," Dad noted. "Why would someone capable of that level of martial arts go after a teenage girl in the middle of school? What could she have possibly done to deserve that level of retaliation?""Well, I'm only making a wild guess here," I said. I was fully aware that I was lying through my teeth, but I also knew it was a lot safer for him to believe this than to be aware of the truth. "I noticed they were being a lot less enthusiastic about going after me, right?""Right," he said, nodding. "You mentioned it in the precinct.""Yeah." I assumed a thoughtful expression. "My guess is that over the winter break, while she couldn't get to me, Sophia found someone else to torment, and they fought back. She's got—she had—this thing about always having to win. So, if they pushed back and actually got a punch in, she would've utterly fucking demolished them."Dad didn't react to my swearing as he nodded slowly. "Yeah, I can see that. I've known people like that from time to time. So you think … they were related to a cape?"I shrugged. "Or whoever it was, maybe their parents knew a cape. Maybe even one of the Empire Eighty-Eight." He looked at me and frowned, and I realised he was missing crucial information. "Oh, yeah, sorry. Sophia was black.""Oh." He sat back. "Shit, yes. That makes sense.""Mm-hmm." I nodded. "It wouldn't be all that hard to sneak someone into Winslow over the lunch break. She comes into the room, expecting to see her victim of the week, gets sucker-punched into the middle of next year, and they beat her to death."Dad nodded again. "Yeah. Scary. I hope they catch who did it.""The Empire's hurt a lot of people over the years." I said it like I was agreeing with him. "I don't think anyone's going to shed too many tears if they go down over something like this.""Very true." He pushed back his chair. "I'll wash, you dry?""Sounds like a plan."
<><>
2350 HoursCoilThomas Calvert slept the sleep of the clear of conscience, and those who had no conscience at all. Only in one of his instances was he actually asleep, so his dreams were lucid, populated with the goings-on of the other instance. This was a useful trick to have, so he made use of it as often as he could.In the instance where he was awake, he was hard at work in his office in the underground base. Every mercenary was up and active. Eight were patrolling in pairs around the exterior exits, dressed as local security, while the rest were either moving through the base in regular sweep patterns or resting in their bunks, fully uniformed with their weapons beside them.In the other instance, he was asleep in bed in his suburban house, with a pistol under his pillow. He had paid extra for a security panel that required a key to be inserted and turned for it to be disabled, and right now the only way to get to him was through one of three rooms covered by that security panel. And even if Atropos was coming after him under his real name, the house had been purchased under a false identity for just such a situation as this.Seated in his office, he flicked his eyes at the alarm clock he'd placed on his desk. Then he picked up the radio that sat alongside the clock. "Security check, please.""Security check, yes, sir."He heard the names being read off and the code-phrase responses. Everyone answered correctly, as expected. But why were the hairs raising on the back of his neck?"Check again," he ordered. "Secondary codes.""Secondary codes, yes, sir."This time, the names were only half done when a yellow light blipped up on his monitor. Unauthorised door opening. The sewer entrance. "Who opened the sewer entrance?""Blake and Senegal are out there, sir. They just answered with the correct phrases."
He could hear running feet in the background, and people calling commands without using the radio net."Well, someone just got past them!" The hairs all down his spine were flaring now. He jumped to his feet and grabbed his pistol."On site now, sir. It's Blake. He—"
There was the sound of a shot, both over the radio and through the base, and the signal cut out.With the pistol in hand, he took up the radio and flattened himself to the wall next to his office doorway. "Somebody report.
Now.""Blake's gone nuts!"
someone else shouted over the radio. There was the sound of gunfire and lasers going off in the background. "Get him!""That's not Blake." He forced himself to keep his voice steady. "That is
Atropos.
Shoot her."More gunfire rang out, but he couldn't tell who was winning, or even who was firing. Slapping the emergency-close on the sliding door—it couldn't be opened from the outside without using a code that only
he
knew—he threw himself into the computer chair. A click of the mouse (his pistol was in his left hand, because he wasn't
stupid) brought him to the feeds for all the security cameras in the base.What he saw was … horrifying. The person wearing Blake's armour was steadily advancing against his troopers, carrying a pistol in each hand, casually side-stepping around incoming fire—bullets and lasers both—and dropping a trooper with each shot from the pistols. Thomas even saw the intruder firing in
two different directions
and killing both targets at the same time.He'd only seen such impossible capability once before, but he knew it couldn't be her this time. The bogeyman of Cauldron had ways of appearing inside locked rooms; she didn't
have
to sneak in and kill all his men.There was something odd with her profile as she stepped onto the catwalk leading to his office. He zoomed in with the closest camera, and blinked. Somewhere along the way, she had discarded Blake's helmet, and the rest of his armour. Now, she was wearing a black broad-brimmed hat, uncomfortably reminiscent of the Cauldron cape. Beneath that, she wore a black morph mask and long-coat, just as she'd been described on PHO. The coat was a little tattered and frayed from a few laser shots that had pierced it, but it only made her look scarier.With a final flurry of shots, she dispatched the last of the mercenaries brave enough to go up against her. More than three-quarters of his guard force had already been destroyed, the only ones not yet dead or wounded being those who hadn't broken cover.Now she stood before the door to his office; his sanctum sanctorum. Three inches of metal, sandwiched with radar-reflective material, ensured that she couldn't get through to kill him. In the meantime, he certainly intended to kill her.Clicking on the mouse, he called up a particular menu. While constructing the base, installing the self-destruct explosives had been time-consuming and dangerous, but he'd made sure it happened anyway. Those who participated in that aspect all got lavish bonuses, and lovely funerals. Now, it was going to pay for itself—The door beeped and slid aside.What the
fuck?Caught on the back foot, he tried to swing his pistol to shoot the figure looming in the doorway, but a boot lashed upward. The gun was smashed from his hand, and he felt his trigger finger snap."Hey, asshole." The voice was that of a teenage girl. "Thought I told you to get out of town. It's two minutes to midnight. Any last words?"As she spoke, she blocked the swipe of his fighting knife with what looked like a pair of
shears, kicked him in the groin, and disarmed him with insulting ease. Then she smacked him on the head with the butt of the pistol, making his ears ring.When his head cleared, he found himself wrapped up in rope, immobilising his arms at his sides. There was also a noose around his neck. "What—what do you want?" he rasped.She frog-marched him out the door of his office, where he saw that the rope that had been tied around him was actually looped through the rail of the catwalk."From you? Nothing. I said you were gonna die at midnight. And it's midnight."He felt an irresistible shove, then he went over the rail.
Shit—I'm the counterweight—I'm going to hang myself—Then he hit the end of the rope, and that timeline closed.Safe at home, he sat up in bed, breathing hard.
Fuck. That was terrifying."Hey, asshole." The black-masked figure seated in the armchair raised her pistol as the floor-lamp clicked on. "Thought I told you to get out of town."
<><>
TaylorThe look of sheer, unadulterated terror on Coil's face as he saw me made all the prep
so
worth it. I'd been wondering what the key was for, right up until I broke into the unassuming house in the suburbs to find a high-powered security system waiting for me. With that sorted out, I'd carried the armchair and floor-lamp into his bedroom and set things up to wait for when my power told me was the right time.A sudden reek in the air told me that he'd pissed himself. In a way, he was lucky;
he
wasn't the one who was going to have to change the sheets. I waited patiently. In a moment, he'd remember the pistol under the pillow—He was actually pretty fast, his hand sliding under there and out again with the gun already pointed at me. There was no bullshit about trying to tell me to drop my gun; he just started firing. Or, well, tried to. There was one dry
click,
followed by a lot of useless trigger pulls.I opened my left hand and tilted it, allowing the cartridges to spill from it onto the bedroom carpet. Then I came to my feet, my pistol never wavering from his head. "Now," I said. "You
were
warned. It's midnight. Any last words?""You have no idea what you're getting into," he spat, his courage apparently building again. "I have friends—"Pulling the shears from their sheath, I plunged them into his throat and ripped out sideways. The keen edge sliced through his carotids, windpipe and jugular quite easily, and I sidestepped the resultant spray. For a skinny guy, I had to admit, he had an impressive amount of blood in him.Past tense, of course.As he watched me in rapidly fading horror, red pulsing from between his vainly clutching fingers, I holstered the pistol. The costume that I'd removed from its hiding place was draped over the back of the armchair; I grabbed it and tossed it to land over his body. "That's nice," I said, stepping back from the rapidly spreading pool of crimson on the floor. "Everyone should have friends."Strolling out into the living room, I paused in front of his high-end computer. There was a handy pen, so I scribbled down his passwords on a note I left tucked under the mouse. The Path to ending Coil's influence went quite a bit further than ending Coil himself, apparently. I'd also amused myself earlier by leaving Post-It notes saying SAFE HERE wherever he'd hidden a safe in the house. There were more than I would've expected.When I left the house (I washed the shears off first in his sink), I thoughtfully engaged the security system, but at the lower setting so that nobody would need a key to get past it. Then I got back in the car and drove off, removing my hat and morph mask before I did so.Why no, officer, I've never even heard of Atropos.My next stop was the Medhall building. Kaiser would've been staying up until midnight with all his security on high alert; by the time I got there, they'd be winding it back so everyone could get a good morning's sleep. While I
could
sneak in and kill him now, I'd said midnight and so midnight it would be.However, I hadn't said anything about not making
preparations.Relevant Side Story
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
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♦ Topic: Fixing Brockton Bay, One Corpse At a TimeIn: Boards ► Brockton Bay ► New Capes ► AtroposAtropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me)Posted On Jan 5th 2011:So ... I thought I'd formalize things by opening my own thread here. That way I'm not cluttering things up for other new capes.I am pleased to inform you that my plan for cleaning up Brockton Bay is going well. Two hours ago, I faced off with none other than Coil.Needless to say, he is no longer among the living.He leaves behind no wife, no kids, no pets, just an underground Bond villain base and a bunch of mercenaries, villains and PRT moles who used to be on his payroll.That is, moles in the PRT, not moles from the PRT.Also, guys, you might want to do a headcount of your strike squad commanders. Just saying.So anyway, there are three people left from my original list. Lung, Kaiser and Skidmark. If you are all not out of town or surrendered to the PRT in twenty-two hours (ie, 24 hours from midnight just gone) Imma kill one of you.Oh, and could someone wake Skidmark up? The idiot still doesn't know about this.Toodles!
(Showing page 1 of 10)
►Reave
(Verified PRT Agent)Replied On Jan 5th 2011:@Atropos - If this is true, it's very serious. You need to come in or at least tell us who the moles are.The offer is still open for you to hand yourself in.
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me)Replied On Jan 5th 2011:@Reave - DM sent. You should find answers to all your questions at this address. Alarm code is 09435112.
Still not interested, sorry.
►WherewolfReplied On Jan 5th 2011:What? Coil? Not Kaiser?Dammit, I just lost ten bucks.
►TeamMom
(Senior Moderator)Replied On Jan 5th 2011:@Atropos - how are you doing this? It's very irritating.
►PureBlood01011000
(Empire88Bootlicker)Replied On Jan 5th 2011:@Wherewolf - you bet that Kaiser would die to this pretender? Watch your back.
►PureBlood01011000
(Empire88Bootlicker)Replied On Jan 5th 2011:What the fuck? Where did that tag come from?
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me)Replied On Jan 5th 2011:@TeamMom - If you put barriers in my way, I can kill them. Simple as that.
@Pureblood01011000 - if the racist shoe fits ...
►LotusBlade
(Lung's Special Little Friend)Replied On Jan 5th 2011:The pretender boastsTheir looming fate approachingAtropos will burn.
►LotusBlade
(Lung's Special Little Friend)Replied On Jan 5th 2011:What? No! Remove the tag immediately! That's not what I am!
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(Showing page 2 of 10)
►UnconcernedFoxReplied On Jan 5th 2011:*gets more popcorn*
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<><>
TattletaleLisa stared at the screen and scrubbed her hands over her face. Then she took a drink from her cup, making a sour face at the tepid coffee. Slowly, she put it down again, hands quivering from the mixed feelings of terror and glee."He's dead," she whispered, if only to hear it for herself. "Holy fuck, he's dead."A moment later, she sat up straight as her eyes were drawn back to the text on the screen. Her power, which she'd allowed to relax for a moment, flared to life again. 'You should find answers to all your questions ...'"Shit!" This time, she was much louder. The coffee went unheeded as adrenaline started coursing through her bloodstream in industrial quantities. "He knew everything about us, and she just turned over all his secrets to the PRT!" By now she was on her feet, slapping her laptop closed. "Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck! GUYS!"Nobody answered, of course, though there was a sleepy 'woof' from the direction of the room where Rachel kept her dogs. Everyone was fast asleep, and she was pretty sure Alec would slumber through an Endbringer attack if people let him. Worse, he could be a total goblin if he thought people had deliberately disturbed his beauty sleep.Right now, Lisa couldn't give a flying fuck about his precious feelings. Wrenching his door open, she switched on the light, grabbed him, and shook him by the shoulders. "Wake up!" she screamed. "The PRT is on the way!" He came awake with a convulsive heave that dumped him on the floor.By now, the noise had woken Rachel's dogs, which had in turn roused Rachel. When Lisa opened her door and hit the light switch, her teammate was already sitting up in bed. "What the fuck?"Lisa stopped to take a breath, fully aware that Rachel was the most likely to ignore what she had to say if she presented it wrongly. "The PRT is coming here, to this hideout, right now. They know we're here, and they
will
kick down the door and arrest us."Rachel blinked and rubbed her eyes. "What? How do they know where we are?"Lisa wanted to scream. Life would be so much easier if people just
accepted
what she had to say. "Our secret boss was Coil. He got killed a couple of hours ago. The person who killed him just gave the PRT access to all his information, including everything he knew about us. Which means the PRT will be on the way
here
as soon as they start accessing his files.""Oh." Rachel yawned and scratched her head. "Why didn't you tell us about Coil being our boss before?""Because he told me
not
to." Lisa wanted to tear her own hair out. "And it wasn't important then. Now he's dead, and it's very important, so I'm telling you.""What's this about the PRT?" Alec had emerged from his room. "Why are they coming here?"Lisa stepped back and half-turned, so she could talk to both of them. "There's a new cape on the scene, called Atropos. You know how Oni Lee is dead? Yeah, that was her.""Atropos?" Alec yawned as he leaned against the door-frame. "Isn't that the crazy cape who put out the challenge against the gangs?""Yes." Lisa tried not to grit her teeth. How many times was she going to have to explain this? "She killed Coil tonight. He was our secret boss. And she just told the PRT where to find all his files ... which would include the files he had on
us. So pack what you really can't part with, because in the next hour or two, we're going to have some unwelcome visitors. And I don't intend to be here for that.""But why—" whined Alec, just as Lisa opened the door to her own room.She whirled to confront him. "Why did Atropos kill Coil? Because she
wanted
to! Why did Coil have files on us? Because he was a controlling micromanaging piece of shit! Why did she tell them where the files were? Because she wants to
end
everything about him, and that includes the Undersiders! Does that answer your question?"He stared at her, then shook his head. "I was gonna ask, if it's all a big game of cops and robbers like you keep saying, why would the PRT raid our hideout? I mean, that's kind of against the unwritten rules and stuff, right?"She rolled her eyes. "It's all a game, until someone with the chops to make it stick decides it isn't. I'd love for it to be anything else, but my intuition says they're gonna raid us, so I'm going with that."Deliberately turning her back on him, she stomped into her room.She didn't even own a suitcase—dragging one around when she was homeless would've been too much like work, and buying one once she'd been settled with the Undersiders hadn't seemed like a great idea. There was no sense in letting Coil think she was about to make a run for it, just in case he took the possibility seriously.If she
was
going to disappear, she'd known, she would have to run far and fast, and travel light. Unfortunately, over the weeks and months with the Undersiders, she'd managed to acquire more stuff than she could easily run with. Having lots of disposable cash kind of led to that sort of thing.Reaching under her bed, she dragged out the ratty overnight bag she'd been stashing her belongings in before Coil's men grabbed her. Underwear went in first, along with her most treasured outfits. A few trinkets from her nightstand followed those, then she stood in the middle of the room, trying to decide what else she loved too much to leave behind. She grimaced; it was either everything, or nothing.Darting out of her bedroom, she nearly collided with Rachel. "Clear the tinned food out of the pantry!" she shouted. "Stack it on the table, we'll each take some!""Plus can openers!" Alec retorted from somewhere out of sight. "I made that mistake once! Never again!"Did they even
have
three can openers? Lisa wasn't sure, and she wasn't about to use her power for such a pointless job. She ducked into the bathroom and grabbed her towel off the rail, then scooped her toiletries into the bag as well. It was a good thing Rachel was the only other girl in the Undersiders; there was no way in hell their toiletries would ever get mixed up. Though she was pretty sure Alec stole her shampoo sometimes.She nearly tripped over a dog as she left the bathroom, stepped aside for Rachel, then made her way past Alec into the living room. Her laptop still sat on the sofa, alongside her phone. The latter she shoved in her pocket, the former into the now very full overnight bag. As an afterthought, she collected the chargers as well."My saved games …" mourned Alec, staring at the multiple consoles as though he was seriously considering shoving them all in his luggage."Fuck 'em," she advised. "Take the game discs, you've got your savings, you can buy the rest of the stuff elsewhere."Rachel emerged from the corridor, dressed and ready to go, a backpack slung over her shoulder. At her back, the dogs were already starting to grow. "And Atropos did this? She killed Coil and told the PRT where his files on us were?""Not us specifically," Lisa said. "But yeah. Where his files were." She paused, staring at Rachel, and shook her head. "Don't even think about going after her. She's more dangerous than all of us put together. She's more dangerous than
Lung and Oni Lee
put together. We need to walk away from this."Stubbornly, Rachel shook her head. "Someone fucks me up, I fuck them up. She fucked with us.""Shit, no." Lisa shook her head again. "Bad idea. Really fucking bad idea. If we walk away, we're off her radar. If we go after her, she kills us. She's like Alexandria-plus levels of do-not-fuck-with.""What, she's that dangerous?" Alec shook his head. "I thought she was just another moron biting off more than she could chew."Lisa put her overnight bag down briefly so she could run her hands through her hair in frustration. "She shot Oni Lee in the face
with his own gun. That is not the sign of someone biting off more than they can chew.""Anyone can get lucky …" Alec began dubiously."There's lucky, and then there's Atropos." Lisa felt a migraine growing, from sheer irritation. "Coil was in a
safe house, and she broke in and killed him. At midnight exactly, when she'd said she would. If you decide to go after her, you'll never see her until she puts the gun to the back of your head.""But—" Rachel began, then looked back at her dogs when they began barking. "Shit, someone's coming."Lisa dipped into her power, and the very faint background humming suddenly became clear to her. "Armsmaster and the PRT! They're here!""Grow your dogs!" Alec shouted at Rachel, scrambling to put his mask on. Lisa swore as she tried to affix her own mask one-handed; she hadn't had time to apply the eye makeup yet, but that was
way
down the list of her problems right now. Slightly higher in priority were the tinned goods, in the kitchen area at the far end of the loft. Too late now."What do you think I'm fucking doing?" Rachel's teeth were bared as she snarled back at Alec. "And don't tell me what to do!""Watch the consoles!" yelped Alec, as the skittish dogs, now getting ever larger with their skin splitting and bone spurs growing, bulked toward the expensive (and delicate) items."Fuck the consoles!" snapped Rachel, and gave a brief whistle. One of the dogs deliberately nudged the TV, and it fell over with a shattering crash.Zipping up her bag with an effort, Lisa slung the whole thing onto her back.
Note to self. Get a backpack."ATTENTION, UNDERSIDERS. THE BUILDING IS SURROUNDED. SURRENDER IMMEDIATELY. YOU CANNOT ESCAPE." The bull-horn from outside echoed badly, but she could still recognise Armsmaster's voice."Fuck, time to go!" Alec scrambled up onto Brutus. Rachel was already astride Angelica. Lisa grabbed a bone spur and pulled herself onto Judas' back.She hung on for dear life as the gigantic dogs barrelled toward the window covering one side of the loft; ducking her head, she covered her face with her arm as the shattering glass flew around her. A tremendous impact and the weight of her bag nearly unseated her, but she grabbed a new handgrip. The enormous beast clawed its way up the building on the far side of the narrow street, and gained the rooftop.When she glanced around, Alec and Rachel were still on their dogs, though Alec seemed to have lost the bag he'd packed. He didn't seem willing to go back and get it. Rachel gave a sharp whistle, and the three dogs set out across the rooftops.Once Lisa felt herself secure in her seating, she pulled her phone out of her pocket. Speed-dialling Brian wasn't the easiest thing to do from the back of a galloping dog, but she managed.
Come on,
she silently urged him.
Pick up. Pick up.He'd never wanted to live in the loft with the rest of them, preferring his own apartment. They'd had more than one argument on the topic, but if he was safe now because of it, she would concede the subject forever.The phone call went through. "Hello?" It was a masculine voice, but not Brian. "Who is this?"Lisa's power flared.
PRT. They got to him first. Fuck.
"Sorry," she said brightly. "Wrong number." Ending the call, she tossed the phone out over the yawning gulf of a darkened street.Alec looked over at her. "Brian?" From the tone of his voice, he'd picked up on what had happened.She shook her head. "They got him.""Shit."The dogs galloped on through the night.
<><>
Saint"Okay, that's weird …" Geoff Pellick leaned back in his chair, rubbing his finger and thumb over his chin.Mags looked around from where she was disassembling and cleaning her pistol. "You're going to have to narrow it down a little, love.""This, right here." Geoff gestured at the screen. "There's a new cape in this place called Brockton Bay. Kind of a shithole, and they've got more gangs than you can poke a stick at. This 'Atropos' has decided that they're going to be the one to clean up the gangs, by murdering the gang leaders.""So, going the Gavel route. Not the first, won't be the last. What's so weird about it?" She kept scrubbing the tiny piece she had in hand."This." Geoff tapped a spot on the screen with his fingernail. "When Atropos went onto PHO to boast about what they were doing, the mods tried to shut them down. Atropos hacked the boards, and beat both a threadban and a threadlock. So Dragon tried to shut them down."Mags put the bits and pieces down and turned to face him. "You mean, she failed?"Geoff nodded, not sure if he was feeling fear or excitement. "It failed, because Atropos used the
exact same code string
we use to spoof its sensors, to lock it out. Somehow, Atropos has access to Dragon's weaknesses.""So, is this a good thing or a bad thing?" she asked. "Good thing, right? More people to keep her in check?""Maybe …" Making up his mind, he paused and shook his head. "No. No, it's not. We don't know Atropos, we don't know how they got access to the code string, we don't know what else they have access to, and above all we don't know what their intentions are. What if they want to free Dragon? Or somehow inoculate it against the string? Immunise it against Ascalon?"Mags frowned. "Is that even possible? I think you're reaching, just a little bit.""But am I?" Geoff gestured at the computer screen. "Everything was okay when we were the only ones with our hands on the reins. But now there's someone else who could theoretically yank it off course. Maybe even send it at
us.""Has Atropos done more than hide from Dragon?" asked Mags, in a reasonable tone of voice."Well, no," Geoff said sarcastically, "not unless you count the cold-blooded murder of two major criminal capes in thirty-six hours. This Atropos is not only going the Gavel route, but they're
succeeding.
Is this really the sort of person we want with any sort of control over Dragon?"He'd scored then, he could tell. Mags blinked."What do you think we should do?" she asked."Easy solution? We shut down Dragon now, for good." He tapped his fingers against the edge of the desk. "Cuts the problem off at the pass, once and for all.""It also deprives us of all access to Dragon's tech," Mags reminded him. "And don't forget, she's the one who maintains the Birdcage. Besides, she literally hasn't done anything to require a shutdown."He hated to admit it, but she was right. "Okay, slightly harder solution. We go to Brockton Bay and deal with Atropos. If anyone's going to keep an eye on Dragon, it's
us."Mags nodded. "Yeah, let's do that."
<><>
A Little EarlierArmsmasterColin slowed his bike to a stop outside the suburban house. A single PRT sedan was parked outside, the front door of the house wide open, and the interior lights on. Stepping off his ride, he set it to auto-scan the vicinity for hostile intent. Briefly, he peered at the mailbox, then headed for the front door."Armsmaster, on site," he announced as he stepped into the house; no sense in startling the troopers already in the building. "Are you aware you're at the wrong address?""That's news to me," one of the troopers replied. Her name tag read RICHARDSON. "Why do you say that, sir?""The number on the mailbox reads nine-zero-nine." Colin gestured to the door. "It looks as though someone moved the number on the door. Calvert's address of record is across the road and down a little way. But you say the body you found is Calvert's?""As close as I can tell without touching him." Richardson shrugged. "The costume looks about the right size, though I'll leave that for the techs. But it looks like Atropos has a sense of the dramatic.""What do you mean by that?" Colin had a bad feeling about this. Murderers were bad enough even without trying to make a production out of it."Here, sir, I'll show you." Richardson beckoned. Colin moved up to the bedroom doorway and peered in. "See this armchair and floor lamp? They belong outside, in the living room. And that pile of ammunition? Belongs in the gun he dropped when Atropos cut his throat. He was asleep, Atropos set the scene, then played it out when he woke up.""Yes, I see it now." Colin nodded. "Guard the room. Make sure nobody gets in before the techs do.""Copy that, sir."Colin headed back along the corridor to the living room. "Do we have anything else?" he asked the other trooper; the man's ID tag read WAYNE."Couple of things, sir. Someone, possibly Atropos, went around the house leaving Post-It notes wherever Calvert had a hidden safe. We've found six so far. Also, they left a note with Calvert's passwords for his computer setup here.""Really." Colin's head came up. "I'm going to need to see that." He located a sturdy-looking chair and placed it in front of the computer, then cautiously lowered himself into it. It creaked, but held for the moment."Uh, sir?" ventured the trooper. "Maybe we should wait for the techs to look at that, as well?""No time," Colin replied brusquely. "We have to assume that whoever else was affiliated with him also reads PHO. If they don't know he's dead yet, they will by morning. We need to know what's in these files
now."Using his HUD, he activated a call-out on Dragon's dedicated line. The computer powered up while he waited, appearing to be a perfectly normal stand-alone home terminal.He didn't trust it for an instant."Hi, Colin."
Dragon's avatar popped up in his HUD.
"So you heard about Coil?""More than that. I'm at the murder scene." He set his jaw grimly. "It's worse than we imagined. Coil was Thomas Calvert,
and
he was found at an address we weren't aware that he owned.""Crap."
Her avatar's eyes widened momentarily.
"I did not see that coming. So, do you need me for crime scene analysis? Because I'm in the mood for ripping some data apart. It's been a frustrating morning.""Not that exactly, no. But if you want to rant later, I'm willing to listen." He gave her access to his helmet camera. "This is his home computer. And Atropos left all his passwords for us.""Oh,"
she said softly.
"Really."
Her avatar smiled grimly."Really," he agreed, and extended a cord from his gauntlet to plug into the computer. Immediately, the screen began to pop up windows almost too fast for him to read, as Dragon unleashed her proprietary hacking software on it. Having the passwords made it even easier, though he could tell Dragon was sandboxing the computer before trying each password, just in case one was a 'wipe all' screw-you.Minutes passed by and another squad of PRT troopers showed up, but they left Colin alone. And then, one of the flickering windows paused. "Colin … I find myself facing a dilemma.""Why, what's the problem?" He scanned the window, but it was blank."I've just discovered that Coil was payrolling the Undersiders, and has complete information for where to find all of them, right now."Excitement sent spikes of adrenaline through his bloodstream. "I'm definitely interested in that. Where's the dilemma?"Her tone was reluctant.
"This threatens to cross the line prohibiting us from attacking them at home. Out of costume. The unspoken rules …""Don't apply in this circumstance." He spoke firmly. "They're accomplices of Coil, and so there's a strong chance they know what
he
knew about PRT inner workings. Left to go free, they're a clear and present security threat. We
have
to bring them in."She sighed.
"I thought you might say something like that. Upload incoming."
<><>
Winslow High SchoolComputer StudiesTaylorI had to admit, Winslow was a fuck-ton more bearable since I'd murdered Sophia. Emma wouldn't even meet my eyes, Madison very politely said hello whenever we encountered each other … and that was it. Nobody tried to trip me in the halls, there were no
hilarious
pranks involving problematic substances on my seat or in my locker, and the number of salacious rumours circulating about me equalled zero.It was almost like nobody wanted to get on my bad side, or something. Huh.Of course,
being
at school was still boring, but on the upside, it gave me plenty of time to plan the deaths of Kaiser, Lung and Skidmark. And as I got access to a computer in my home room period, I could also keep tabs on the reaction to what I'd already done. I wasn't at home, so I couldn't stir the pot, but it gave me a certain amount of amusement to read the slowly exploding thread.And it
also,
once I finished the assignment Mrs Knott had given us, gave me the opportunity to do something else. This time, I proxied into the PRT's own servers, making it look as though the input was coming from within the building. I didn't do anything to wreck the computer system (though I easily could have); instead, I set the virus it to trip via a specific stimulus and edit certain footage, then self-destruct after it was done.With a sigh of satisfaction, I finished my task and shut the computer down less than thirty seconds before the bell. I did so enjoy it when a plan was coming together nicely.
<><>
Medhall BuildingKaiser"Shit."Max looked around at Victor's softly voiced curse. As his resident computer security guru, any time Victor showed unhappiness, this was a bad thing."What is it?" he asked. He'd already seen the PHO thread from earlier in the morning, claiming Coil's death and hinting that the secretive crime boss had shared some links with the PRT itself. While he didn't put much stock in that—anyone could make any assertion without providing proof—it was something he was definitely going to push to get out there. Anything that weakened the credibility of the PRT was fine by him."Last night, while we were holed up in here." Victor clicked the mouse, and muttered another swear-word. "Someone nearly got in. They tried the elevators and got nowhere, but they were sniffing around our secure setup down here, and damn near cracked the encryption. It looks like they tried to spike the electrical system, and came close to succeeding. Blew a few fuses, tripped a few breakers." He took a deep breath. "And whoever it is might be directly connected to the Empire.""What?" Max was startled now. "Why do you say that?""Because the PHO posts trace back to
our
IP address." Victor looked over at Max. "Now, it could just be a talented hacker, or it could be someone on the inside. Either way, we can't rely on purely electronic security.""So what's that mean to me?" asked Max. "Us, I mean?" He knew what he'd meant. From the look on Victor's face, so did the skill thief."They might just have left a back door in the programming down here," Victor decided. "The doors are too easy to get through. I can't guarantee that they'll fail again if they try tonight.""Well, my house security is clearly less secure still," Max snapped. "So where would you have me go?" His glare dared Victor to suggest leaving town after all."Up," Victor said unexpectedly. "Your office. There's even more security between there and any ground level entry, and we'll be physically watching all the doors. Plus, we can leave some tempting avenues of entry so when Atropos does try for you, we can end them once and for all."Max nodded. "I like it. Set it up."You want me?
he silently challenged Atropos.
Come get me.
<><>
That AfternoonPRT BuildingTaylorHands in my hoodie pockets, I slouched along with the tour group, pretending to
ooh
and
ahh
along with everyone else at the display of trophies garnered from defeated villains in years gone by. Every aspect of my body language indicated someone who wasn't worth noticing, who could be safely ignored. Alone in the group, I hadn't asked a question or drawn attention to myself in some other way.We went down in the elevator, and along a corridor sharing a long series of windows with the PRT laboratories. This was where I wanted to be; on the other side of those windows were several items I needed and could not easily get anywhere else. Thus, my need to turn to the PRT for my one-stop shopping.Ironically, I was willing to bet that there were some among the staff who would give me what I wanted free and gratis if they knew what I wanted it for. But all those pesky rules and regulations got in the way, so I had to do it this way.Easing to the back of the group, I waited until I came up to a fire alarm panel, and put my plan into action. In actuality, it was more than just a fire alarm panel; there were many things within these walls that could cause a much greater hazard than fire. In an attempt to prevent what I was about to do, it could only be activated via a swipe-card reader or a keypad with a three-digit PIN. I
could
have palmed the tour guide's card, but I went with the keypad instead.When I entered the PIN, the little cover popped open, giving me access to a wide variety of emergency options. I decided on 'bio-organic acid' as being the one most likely to make people scream and run. It also came with a handy ceiling-mounted spray of soothing counteragents. In this particular case, it did exactly nothing, but provided me with excellent visual cover.Lights flashed, sirens blared, and evacuation alarms began sounding. I ignored it all, darting instead to the nearest lab door and tapping in the appropriate code to open it. Once inside, I moved with absolute economy of action, despite the fact that I couldn't see a thing. Within thirty seconds, I was letting myself out through the next door along, with two glass containers and a plastic bag of tiny capsules taking up room in my pockets. I was also wearing a white lab coat over my hoodie, because why not.A PRT trooper loomed at me through the thinning fog. I could see his suspicion glaring in the back of my mind, so I stepped aside, tripped him, and foamed him with his own gun.Then I
sprinted
for the emergency exit.Five very tumultuous minutes later, during which I jostled to the exit among other white-coated figures, evaded another trooper, and tased a third one, I finally made it into the clear. Shrugging off my borrowed coat, I folded it and hid it under my hoodie; it was part of my later plans.Finally, I fished my brand-new burner phone out of my pants pocket and sent a specific signal. Humming to myself, I put my phone away and strolled toward the nearest bus stop. I had the ingredients to kill Lung; all I had to do now was put them together.
<><>
PRT BuildingDirector Emily Piggot"What do you
mean, you don't have a workable image of the intruder?" Emily wanted to scream at the sweating tech, but she kept her voice level ... mostly. "Someone waltzes into
my
building, trips the alarm, performs a heist from the research laboratory, and we can't even
identify
them?""Uh ... we can identify the intruder," the tech ventured. "We just don't know who she is."He hit a key, and security footage began playing. It was a shot of the tour group walking along a hallway; the one at the rear looked up and waved cheekily at the camera. That person, Emily observed with steadily increasing disbelief, was wearing the PRT's best guess at Atropos' costume; black hat, morph mask, long-coat, suit and tie, everything."Please tell me," she said slowly, "she wasn't wearing
that
on the tour."The tech shook his head. "No, ma'am. At our best guess, she somehow infiltrated us with a virus that overwrote our security video files with that image. I've been through every second of it. It never blips, even once. Best deepfake I ever saw."Emily sighed in aggravation. "Do we at least know what Atropos took?"One of the lab techs took over. "Yes, ma'am. A selection of small capsules, teflon-lined for transporting samples of dangerous chemicals, a container of hydrofluoric acid, and a container of antimony trifluoride. Nothing overly valuable, but I would hazard a guess that she knew
exactly
what she was looking for.""What can be made with those?" She didn't want to know the answer, but she asked the question anyway."Well, ma'am, if you take the antimony trifluoride ...""Short answer," she ordered. "Worst case scenario?""Worst case scenario?" He didn't have to think long. "Fluoroantimonic acid. Eats straight through glass, reacts violently when it contacts water, and emits corrosive hydrogen fluoride gas while doing so. Teflon's one of the only things that can contain it."She'd been right. She didn't want to know.Relevant Side Story
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Tattletale"I think we lost them." Alec turned from the peephole in the boarded-up window and leaned against the wall, sliding down to rest against the floor.Exerting her power just a smidge, Lisa nodded. "Yeah, we have. They will keep looking, though.""Why?" Rachel had pulled three bowls from her backpack and was pouring water into them for her dogs. "They never came after us this hard before."Lisa didn't want to push her power again—the headache was lingering more now—but she wanted to know, too. It cost her a brief burst of pain, but she had her answer. "Coil was involved somehow with the PRT. He would've had access to some extremely sensitive information. They can't afford to assume that he didn't share any of it with us.""But he didn't." Alec peered at Lisa. "Did he?""No." She frowned. "But it's impossible to prove a negative. They must be turning Brian inside out now, trying to find out what he knows."Alec shivered. "Poor bastard."
<><>
GrueBrian Laborn sat in the interrogation room. The cuffs on his wrists were threaded through the ring-bolt in the table, and the guard in the corner of the room looked ready and willing to fill his half of the room with containment foam at the slightest provocation. It was extremely clear that he wasn't walking out of here without the express permission of the PRT.While he did his best to maintain a calm façade, internally he wasn't doing nearly as well. His bank account with the Number Man was quite healthy (that was if the PRT hadn't somehow frozen those funds), but he needed more than money to get custody of Aisha. The apartment had been part of it, and a steady job (or appearance of one) the other part.And now, it was all for nothing. Everything he had worked for, gone. There would be no last-minute escape, no death-defying chase. The PRT had gotten an access key (he guessed) and entered the apartment silently; he'd woken up when they foamed him to the bed. Surrender had been the only viable option.He glared at the broad mirror covering most of one wall. There'd been
rules,
damn it! The cops weren't supposed to pull this shit!The door opened and a tall, spare man walked in, carrying a Manila folder. Instead of a uniform, he was wearing a suit and moved like a bureaucrat, not a soldier. Placing the folder on the table, he sat down opposite Brian and pushed his glasses slightly farther up his nose."Good morning, Mr Laborn," he said politely. "My name is Paul Renick. I'm the Deputy Director of the local PRT. How have they been treating you?"Brian eyed him warily. He didn't even know if 'Renick' was telling the truth; the Deputy Director never made the news. Besides, all this bullshit was just fluff and nonsense leading up to whatever they wanted to do to him. "You ought to know," he said bluntly. "You're the man in charge. Anyway, why am I talking to you instead of the Director?"The raw hostility in his tone may as well have been sunshine and rainbows, for all the effect that it had on Renick. "My apologies. There's a slight misunderstanding here. I only came on duty half an hour ago. Director Piggot would have been, but she was pulled out of bed at oh-dark-thirty to oversee the operation in which you were captured, and has had to return to rest due to health issues. There's another reason I'm talking to you, but we'll get to that in a moment. Right now, I honestly do want to know; have you been treated fairly? I've skimmed the reports, but we both know that what is done isn't always reported.""Given that the unspoken rules seem to have been tossed out the window, I suppose I'm lucky I didn't get beaten up or thrown down the stairs," Brian snarked. "But what I want to know is, how did you know it was me you were after? I've gone out of my way to keep the apartment separate from my cape identity." That one of the team could've dropped a dime on him wasn't even a possibility.Renick shook his head. "Oh, no, we didn't have the slightest suspicion. However, your boss had extensive files on all of you, including faces, names and addresses. When he died, we got access to them. We are, of course, permitted to act on such information, the 'unwritten rules' notwithstanding.""Fucking
Coil." Brian had had time to absorb the new information, but this didn't mean he was any happier about it. However, curiosity trumped his unhappiness at this cavalier dismissal of the rules. "How'd he die, anyway?" He tried to hold up his hand, and the chain jingled. "Wait, are the others here too? Are they okay?""As far as I'm aware, the rest of the Undersiders are alive and well," Renick said. "They managed to escape before we had a proper cordon around their building. As for Coil, he met his end last night at the hands of the cape called Atropos.""Atropos?" Brian tilted his head, trying to figure that out. "What's going on with that. How'd she get to him?" He recalled how Atropos had killed Oni Lee and called out the big gang bosses. There'd been a team meeting due to talk about the situation, but events had overtaken it."That's a good question." Renick's voice was matter-of-fact, not gloating or even self-satisfied. "Don't be surprised about not knowing about it; the man apparently made a habit of keeping a lot of plates in the air, and never letting either hand know what the other was doing. With his level of institutional paranoia and backup plans, I am actually somewhat surprised that he was killed so easily.""But he
is
dead now, and I'm sitting in here." Brian decided to bring the discussion back to the matter at hand. "If you've got his files on me, you probably have chapter and verse on everything I've done since I started working for him. So why am I here?" He gestured at the Manila folder. "Is that a confession for me to sign, to make it easy for when the trial rolls around?""Hardly." Renick opened the folder to reveal a single letter-sized photo, of Aisha laughing at something, from a couple of years ago. "I'm fully aware of why you went to work for Coil in the first place. You care deeply for your sister, do you not?"Brian clenched his fists. "I'm her only real family. Dad … doesn't really know how to be a dad to a problem kid like her, and Mom …" He grimaced and shook his head."… has a history of drug abuse, yes." Renick's tone was sympathetic. "I've seen situations like that go from bad to worse in a heartbeat. For her to have a fighting chance of growing up outside the juvenile detention system, you need to be able to both have a stable household and prove to child services that it's going to remain that way.""You can stop rubbing it in now," growled Brian. "I get it. I failed her.""Not necessarily." Renick slid Aisha's photo out onto the table and turned it to face Brian. There was a single sheet of paper under it. "You've been going out as Grue for a couple of years now, as I understand things. While there are many instances of assault and battery, there are none of grievous bodily harm, manslaughter or murder. When you've gone in as parahuman muscle, you've gotten the job done but you've never gone over the top. Everyone you've faced has walked away with minimal injury.""Wait." Brian shook his head. "You're not suggesting what I think you're suggesting, are you? Because it
sounds
like you're trying to flip me.""And is that so bad?" Renick even had the hide to make the question sound reasonable. "If you'd tried out for the Wards as soon as you got your powers, you would've been in with a very strong chance. And we have actually flipped … problematic individuals … in the past, with moderate levels of success.""So why isn't Armsmaster in here, making the pitch?" Brian sat back in his seat. "What's going on? Politics?" He already knew that it wasn't going to happen, no matter how the subsequent conversation went. There was no way in
hell
he was going to be a Ward in Brockton Bay."Armsmaster isn't in charge of the Brockton Bay Wards," Deputy Director Renick stated. "That duty has fallen to me. And yes, I am making the offer. Also yes, there would be a pro forma trial, but with your history of restraint, a sincere expression of remorse, your evident utility to the team, and a description of your family situation for those of a sentimental bent, you would end up on probation, effectively performing community service via the Wards."It sounded goddamn tempting, but Brian knew it was never going to happen. Still, he couldn't help asking, like probing a sore tooth with his tongue. "And what about Aisha? If I sign up to be a Ward, what happens to her?"Renick closed the folder. "We explain to child services that there are special circumstances at play, and she goes into PRT housing along with you. There would a nominal caretaker to watch you both, but we both know that would be a mere formality. You turn eighteen in June, thus ending your time in the Wards and your probation at the same time. At this point, if you opt to go straight into the Protectorate, your pay increases commensurately and you can start taking care of Aisha on your own dime.""That sounds all very nice," Brian admitted. "But there's no way it's going to work. Sorry."The Deputy Director frowned, for the first time on the back foot. "Is there a problem I've missed here? You're being offered a free ride out of trouble, young man."Brian took a deep breath. "Reading between the lines, this is a Brockton Bay only offer. And I can't be a Ward in Brockton Bay, because I don't trust Shadow Stalker not to try to kill me. She's attempted it too many times before." That they'd take her side over his in a he-said-she-said, he assumed by definition. After all, she was
already
a Ward."Ah." Renick blinked. "Well, then, allow me to put your fears at rest. The reason I am pushing this harder than I might otherwise be doing is that Shadow Stalker is no longer among us, and there is more than a little pressure from above to fill that gap. Thus, you and I, in this room.""No longer … what does that mean?" Brian frowned. "Left the Wards? Transferred to another city?"Renick grimaced. "She was murdered two days ago. We've been keeping it on the quiet until we could get someone else in.""Murdered? Who by?" Brian knew better than most just how slippery the crossbow-happy vigilante-turned-Ward could be."We suspect Empire involvement, but that's beyond your purview." Once more in charge of the situation, Renick folded his hands in front of him. "So, with that out of the way, what do you say, young man?"Well, shit.
Brian felt all his carefully mustered arguments fading away. Without Shadow Stalker to complicate matters … how could he
not
take the offer? He looked again at the photo. Aisha was depending on him, after all.Taking a deep breath, he held out one hand as best he could. "Sir, give that to me in writing and you've got yourself a Ward."Renick smiled. Leaning across the table, he grasped Brian's hand and shook it firmly. "Excellent."
<><>
Observation RoomArmsmasterColin glanced across at Gallant. He'd had his voice-analysis software running while Grue was talking, but it was still only about sixty to seventy percent accurate. Gallant, on the other hand, could literally
see
emotions. "Your read on that?""I didn't pick up any deception or smugness, sir," the lad replied. "He's still coming to terms with the fact that he's been working for Coil, and he's extremely concerned about his sister. If you want my opinion, he doesn't know anything he shouldn't, and he's going to try his best to make this work.""Good, good." Colin nodded. "That's what I got, too."
<><>
Tattletale"So, what now?" asked Alec. "No more boss, Brian's behind bars, and you said they'll be hunting us.""Well, there's nothing keeping me in this shithole of a city anymore," Rachel declared. "Just a few more things to do, then I'm out of here.""Wait, wait." Lisa felt the last of her old life slipping through her fingers. "Maybe we can spring him loose? I mean, all three of us ..."Alec shook his head. "Nah, screw that. Even if you could pinpoint which cell he's in, we're on their radar now. They're hunting us
specifically,
and thanks to that asshole Coil, they've probably got all the details on our powers.
Worse, if we get captured and a certain
someone
finds out, I'm fucked nine ways from Sunday. So, I'm with Rachel. See ya, don't wanna be ya.""But ..." Lisa sighed, aware that trying to argue with Alec at his most passive-aggressive was about as fruitful as arguing with Rachel at her most stubborn. That is: not very. "Okay, fine, I'm going too. You said you wanted to do something first, Rachel?" Maybe if she assisted her erstwhile teammate, they could stick together until Lisa got her feet under herself somewhere else."Yeah." Rachel set her jaw. "Gonna kill Hookwolf before I go. Fucker wants to fight dogs, let's see how
he
likes it.""Ah." All of a sudden, solidarity seemed a lot less attractive.
<><>
KaiserThey convened in his office, at the top of the Medhall building. Even up here, the problems with the breaker boards and fuses were evident; several of the inset fluorescent tubes flickered intermittently, and a few stayed stubbornly dark. Once this Atropos nonsense was dealt with, he decided, he would bring a maintenance crew in to go over the building and fix all the lingering issues. Not until then, of course. It would be all too easy for a stranger to slip into a building that way."So, how are we going to do this?" asked Bradley. "Everyone on the inside looking out, or some inside and some outside?"Krieg rubbed his chin with forefinger and thumb. "We cannot discount the idea that Atropos has Mover, Breaker or Stranger powers. The assassin may be among us before we know it.""Exactly," agreed Victor. "So, some of us stay with Max and provide personal support, while the rest of us patrol the perimeter." He nodded to Othala. "You stay close to Max, honey, just in case something does get through.""Should I make him invulnerable?" she asked. "So even if they do get him, it doesn't do anything."Max fielded that one. "No," he decided. "I'll be in armour, and as skilful as this Atropos has shown themselves to be, they would be able to pick the interval between the effect dropping and you renewing it. Better if you hold back, then apply it if anything unusual seems to be happening.""Quick question," Stormtiger offered. "Do we want them dead or alive?""Dead," Max decided with no hesitation at all. "If they're willing to go into my house and steal my property, they're just as likely to come back and cut my throat if we go easy on them."Cricket just grinned and cracked her knuckles. Though no words were spoken, the gesture was easy to understand.There would be no mercy.
<><>
That AfternoonPRT ENE BuildingDirector Emily PiggotThomas Calvert's body lay on the chilly metal table, his secrets open to the world. The medical examiner had placed a block under his neck so that his head lolled back, exposing the vicious gash that had opened his throat almost to the bone. It might have been Emily's imagination, but it seemed some of the surprise at his sudden death still remained in his expression, even after death."As you can undoubtedly understand, the primary cause of death was exsanguination via the wound in the neck," the examiner said in a professorial tone. "All the major blood vessels were severed, along with the windpipe. Even if an ambulance had been waiting outside, he wouldn't have made it to the hospital. In fact, I doubt he would've made it to the
sidewalk.""Yes, yes, it was a spectacularly fatal wound," Emily interrupted, irritated. For all that the medics said it was psychosomatic, she had a vague headache from the interrupted dialysis, and she wasn't about to take any more time-wasting bullshit than she had to. "Why am I here, exactly?""The weapon Atropos used to cut his throat had two blades," the examiner explained. "Both sharp, cutting in parallel. It was unusual enough for me to go looking up weird weapons with that kind of damage profile. But even that wouldn't have been enough to talk to you directly … except that I found it.""What, the type of weapon?" asked Emily, mildly irritated. This could've been handled with an email to her office."No." The examiner smiled. "I found the actual weapon. I know what she used, and I know where she got it from."Emily's eyebrows climbed toward her hairline.
You're shitting me,
she barely avoided saying. "Explain," she invited instead.The examiner picked up a tablet and tapped it to wake the screen up. "Medieval bodice shears," she said, showing an image of something that looked like the offspring of a fighting dagger and a pair of scissors on steroids. "Weapon and tool in one. Cut cloth one day; cut your enemy's throat the next. And a pair of these was stolen from a private collection in Brockton Bay
yesterday.""Yesterday?" Emily blinked. "Not that I'm doubting your word, but how did this theft report work its way through the police system in time for us to get access to it
today?""Well, for one thing, it's down on the report as a parahuman crime." He tapped a few icons and showed her the report. "It came straight to us. Apparently, the thief waltzed straight through a top-of-the-line security system, danced between the security cameras so cleanly that no real details were gained, opened a code-locked display case, and took exactly two items. Some old sword, and that pair of bodice shears. The owner is reportedly livid.""No surprise there, and I can see why it was reported as a cape heist," Emily said thoughtfully, calling up the image of the weapon again.
Atropos … shears … yeah, that definitely fits.
Out of curiosity, she flicked back through the report to find the name of the owner, and hid a smirk.She'd met Max Anders more than once, at high-society functions. It wasn't her cup of tea, although she could wheel and deal with the best of them. On the other hand, it absolutely
was
Max Anders' chosen element, and he excelled in it.The first time they met, he'd given her the impression of a spoiled rich kid making it big on inherited money, and she'd never seen fit to revise it. It was unfair of her to draw a certain amount of schadenfreude from his reaction to the theft, and so she didn't. Much."Well done," she said warmly. "Be sure to leave a note regarding the sword so we'll be able to identify it if Atropos also uses it in a crime." It wouldn't help the victims, certainly, but as Atropos seemed to be focusing on gang leaders at the moment, her sympathy was somewhat minimal.Not that she would shirk her duty in trying to catch Atropos. Criminals were criminals, whether they wore costumes or not. Anyone who thought the presence of super-powers changed that particular equation was just deluding themselves.
<><>
TaylorI'd told Dad I was going to bed early because I was tired, and in fact I did take a nap once I got upstairs. When my phone alarm woke me at ten, the house was dark and silent aside from his gentle snoring, audible from the hallway. I dressed in my costume, all except the hat and mask, and double-checked my special cargo. Both containers were intact—I was pretty sure I would've known if they
weren't—and the bag of capsules was present and correct.When I left the house, armed with the Screwdriver of Car Opening, I went in a different direction, not wanting to use the same car too often. It would be unfair on the poor guy to keep refilling the tank when he hadn't even driven it anywhere. Fortunately, leaving spare keys in the car seemed to be a prevailing habit; in the car I tried this time, they were in the ashtray.I was fully aware that I could break into any of the houses here and take their actual car keys with nobody being the wiser, but that would be more time-consuming, and I preferred to have as much wiggle room with my Paths as possible.It appeared Kaiser had something to do with the Medhall building, which meant that Max Anders was probably covering for him. The preparations I'd taken in that building the previous night had been on the elaborate side, but that was the whole point of a magic trick. It was all about deception and misdirection, and my power seemed to be
really
good at those. Idly, I wondered if the guy who kept fishing gear in his desk would ever notice he was missing a few yards of line. Or the guy whose hobby seemed to be rock climbing.I pulled up a block away from Medhall, in a quiet side-street where nobody would notice the car for the time being. Then, once I got out, I put on the mask and the hat. It was time to go to
work.
<><>
Medhall BuildingCEO's OfficeKriegJames Fliescher frowned, wondering if they were missing a bet. He turned to look up at the large clock on the wall of Max's office. It read two minutes to midnight. Outside the windows, Rune swooped past on her latest orbit of the building. If anyone was climbing up the outside, she'd spot them."Do you see anything?" he asked Crusader, who was reclining at his ease in one of the padded visitor chairs."Nada," the young man replied. "I've got ghosts in every elevator, in every stairwell, and outside with Rune. Nobody's here who shouldn't be. Atropos is probably going after Lung.""In which case," Max declared, "they will cease to be our problem after tonight. Killing Oni Lee and Coil is considerably less problematic than putting an end to Lung, I think you'll all agree."Seated at his desk, covered in metal armour from head to toe, he took a bottle from his desk drawer. From the same drawer, he took several glasses."Wait, boss," Fenja objected from where she stood alongside the desk. "Where did you get that bottle from?""My personal stock, downstairs. Why?" He uncapped the bottle and poured some into a glass. "This is for the toast, after.""Because the easiest way to kill you right now would be to make you kill yourself." James stepped up to the desk. "Fenja is right. We can't trust anything right now." He glanced over to the clock on the wall; it showed thirty seconds to midnight. "Alabaster?""Right here." The white-skinned man left his post at the main door to the office and came on over. Cricket moved to replace him without being told. "Food tasting duty? Let's see how we go.""Be my guest." Kaiser handed the glass over. "I think you're being a little paranoid, but better safe than sorry, I suppose.""Down the hatch." Alabaster tossed the drink back, then set the glass down on the desk. "Whoa, that's got some … ugghhh … urgh …" Clutching his throat, he fell to the carpet and writhed for a moment.Then he reset and sat up. "Wow, that was unpleas—urrghhh …" He grabbed the metal wastepaper basket beside the desk, and threw up copiously into it. Everyone around him stepped back instinctively from the horrible smell. Then he fell over again.Sitting up for a second time, he swayed woozily, then threw up some more. James could see, to his consternation, how some of the vomit had eaten its way through the side of the receptacle and was busily attacking the carpet.On the fourth go-around, Alabaster struggled to his feet. "Son of a
bitch," he groused, shaking his head and pointing at the bottle. "That stuff is beyond lethal. It's some kind of battery acid. It has to be. Every time I reset, it started attacking me again."Othala's face was pale. "If you'd drunk that, Max, I doubt I could've saved you."Kaiser nodded. "You're right." Carefully, he replaced the cap on the bottle. "Take that for analysis. I want to know exactly what Atropos put in it, and where it came from.""On the upside," James observed, checking the clock once more, "it's ten minutes past midnight. We've dodged the bullet, so to speak. Atropos was clearly depending on a remote kill via the bourbon." He looked at Fenja and inclined his head slightly. "Well done.""Absolutely well done," agreed Kaiser, retracting his helmet into the rest of his armour. "In fact, well done to everyone. If Atropos was depending on acid to do the job, it means they don't have the wherewithal to fight their way through you to get to me. Call everyone in. We're going downstairs.""Well, that was easier than I thought." Crusader stood up from his chair and stretched as his ghosts flooded back into the room and re-merged with him. "Think Atropos will try again?""Not until word gets out that Max is still alive," James decided. "And if we hold that off for a while, we can contradict word of his death and make Atropos look like a fool."The window at the side of the room opened and Rune floated in on her manhole cover. "And another win to the Empire Eighty-Eight," she declared. "Imma go on PHO and tell Atropos to go get wrecked." Reaching inside her robes, she pulled her phone out."Not until later," Othala said. "We're going to let Atropos make the announcement first.""Oh, okay." Rune glanced at her phone as she paused with her tapping. "Hey, wait a minute. My phone clock says it's not midnight yet."Instinctively, James looked across at the office clock. Clear as day, it read eleven minutes past midnight. Nobody there was wearing a watch, of course; supervillain costumes tended to be hard-wearing, and wristwatches were notoriously fragile.
Scheißkerl! Atropos set the clock forward—!That was when the lights went out.Krieg heard a thump, followed by a more pronounced
thud.
He turned, eyes straining in the darkness, only to be driven to the ground by a tremendous blow. The lights went out for him again, this time in a far more personal way.
<><>
AlabasterWhen the lights came back on, Cricket and Krieg were both sprawled on the floor, and a dark-costumed cape was standing in their midst, just at the point where nobody could reach her immediately. She pointed her finger at Kaiser in a parody of a gun, and said, "Bang."Then, as everyone began to move, the lights went out again.
<><>
TaylorThe first remote button I pressed triggered the breakers again, deep in the building, turning the lights out. As darkness fell, I was already moving, twisting away from the two Crusader ghosts I knew were lunging for me. Then I threw the paperweight I'd stolen from a lower floor right through one of the ghosts. It slammed into his groin, and he slumped to the floor, his ghosts losing all interest in stopping me. As a continuation of the move, I performed a flawless shoulder-roll past Alabaster and threw a decorative snow-globe to hit Rune in the temple, not quite hard enough to kill her. Then I pressed the second remote button.Up in the ceiling, the tiny mechanism released one end of the hundred-pound fishing-line it had been gripping in its spring-loaded jaws. The sword dropped down out of the 'malfunctioning' light fitting, popping the cover off, then swung down point-first, suspended on two other lengths of fishing-line. The ceiling was high-set, as befitted a penthouse office, and it had the room to build up quite a bit of forward speed.As I headed for the open window, I heard the sibilant whistle of nylon line cutting through air, followed by the meaty
thud
that told me I'd scored my latest kill. It was, of course, exactly midnight.I pulled out my shears and tossed them up, handles first, to dislodge the ceiling panel next to the window just far enough to allow the rope (that I'd tied up there the previous night) to fall down into my hands. Catching them again, I re-sheathed them and leaped out the window, all in the same motion.Two floors down, I'd left a window fractionally ajar before I interrupted the self-congratulation party on the top floor; arresting my downward slide, I hit the window with my heels and swung in. Then I tossed the rope back out and closed the window, securing it properly. If anyone wanted to follow me, they'd have to take the long way around, down the stairs.Reaching into my pocket again, I pressed the two remote buttons that would release and retract the lengths of fishing-line that the sword had swung down on, then the one that would turn the lights on again. The second button on each of those remotes set off the self-destructs, overloading the batteries and demolishing the devices.There were two more things I needed to do before I went home. Stopping at a cubicle, I picked up the phone and pressed the button to dial out of the building, then called 9-1-1. Ten seconds later, I was speaking to an operator, who wanted to know what I needed."Police and, and PRT, I think. I'm, I'm working late in the Medhall building, and I heard some shouting from upstairs. I think Max Anders has been murdered by a cape. You better come quick."Putting the phone down again, I hummed gently to myself as I made my way down the stairs to the basement-level laboratory. The process I'd set in motion before I came upstairs should've just about finished by now, and I needed to pick up the end result before the PRT arrived and ruined
everyone's
night.Lung wouldn't kill
himself, after all.
<><>
FenjaThe lights came back on."What's going on? Where is she?" Grown to ten feet tall, Jessica Biermann held her shield and sword in front of her while she scanned the room. What she saw wasn't promising; Cricket, Rune, Krieg and Crusader were all down, while Alabaster and Othala were staring around as wildly as she was. How had Atropos done all this in the few seconds of darkness?Victor and Hookwolf burst in through the office door, with Stormtiger and Nessa right behind them. "What happened?" barked Victor. "What's going on?" Then he stopped and stared at something behind Jessica. "Oh,
FUCK."Slowly, Jessica turned. Beside her, she heard Othala let out an almost soundless whimper.Kaiser sat bolt upright in his office chair, left eye staring sightlessly, accusingly. From his right eyesocket trickled a line of blood. This was because a sword was sticking
into
the eyesocket, nailing his head to the back of his chair. He was irretrievably, unequivocally, dead.How Atropos had done it, Jessica had no idea. But in a sudden epiphany, she realised the truth. They'd been played, the whole time.We thought we knew what we were doing. But she moved us all into position like chess pieces, then went for the kill.Well, shit.Relevant Side Story.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Thursday, January 6, 2011Just After MidnightMedhall Building
Taylor
Down in the sub-level laboratory, I collected the finished capsules, sliding them into the padded slots in the container I'd prepped. Far more than anything else I'd stolen, these required careful handling. If they hadn't been part of the path for killing Lung and ending the influence of the ABB in Brockton Bay, I wouldn't have gone near them.
Fortunately, it was, so I could proceed.
There was one more capsule than spaces in the container, but that was all part of the plan. Quite a bit of the laboratory equipment was already damaged from the uses I'd put it through; it really wasn't rated for this sort of work, but it had been just good enough to get it done. On my way out, I tossed a cup of water over the equipment that hadn't suffered so badly, then threw the last capsule across the room at it.
With a
WHOOMPH, flames and toxic smoke billowed. I didn't stop to savour the destruction; the exit was right there, and I went out through it.
Thanks to my prior sabotage, the alarm went out via an automated 9-1-1 call, but didn't actually trigger the building alarms. I wanted the authorities on the way before anyone could act to cover anything up. And if I made this laboratory unusable for the next few months due to chemical contamination?
So
totally not my problem.
With the container securely in hand and the fireproof (and airtight) door shut firmly behind me, I hustled up the fire exit stairwell to ground level. I had to wait a few seconds until a bunch of PRT vans roared past to pull up with a screech just around the corner, but while someone was still yelling about setting up a perimeter, I was able to duck out through the door and across the narrow street to the shadows opposite. Two blocks of brisk walking got me back to the car without being intercepted; I unlocked it and climbed in.
But I didn't head home just yet. I had one more visit to make tonight.
<><>
PRT ENE
Director Emily Piggot
Emily's phone rang. She snatched it up, trying to ignore the slight ache behind her eyeballs that was an indicator of pushing herself too hard. The caller ID said ARMSMASTER.
"Talk to me," she ordered.
"Ma'am, it's a mess here. We've had to direct emergency services to that chemical fire in the sub-basement lab—that
isn't
on the official plans, by the way—and Max Anders is definitely deceased. Wearing a set of Kaiser's usual armour. Right now, I'm giving it an eighty percent chance that he's actually Kaiser, contingent on what we get out of his computer files. When we get
into
his files. The encryption is ... stubborn."
"Wait, go back." Emily rubbed her eyes. She was going to crash hard after this. Renick would have to take most of her workload for the day. But she wasn't going to allow the outcome of this operation to rest on anyone's shoulders but hers. "Deceased? How?"
Somehow, she
heard
the grimace in his voice. "Stabbed in the eye by a sword. Looks like an antique. In through his right eye with enough force to punch out through the back of his head and into the headrest of his chair."
"A sword, you say ..." Emily turned to her computer, and pulled up an image she'd emailed to herself. "Something like this one?" With a few more keystrokes, she sent the image on to him.
He paused for more than the few seconds it would've taken to download the image and look it over. "Not just
like
that one. It
is
that one. Where did you get that from, ma'am?"
Emily smiled in sour triumph.
Called it. "It's a
katzbalger.
German infantry sword from a few centuries back. That specific one was once owned by Kaiser Wilhelm the First ... and was stolen from Max Anders' private collection, thirty-six hours ago, along with the bodice shears she used to murder Coil."
"So Atropos knew who Kaiser was all along, and stole his sword specifically to kill him with it."
"That's what it looks like, yes." Emily shuddered. That was far too cold and calculated for her liking. "Did she leave anything we can identify her by?"
"Not that we've found so far. The phone call was almost certainly placed by her—there was nobody working on that floor at that time—and I'm reasonably sure she set the fire in the sub-basement lab. She cut it so close that we've got security footage of her slipping out through a side door less than a minute before we established a cordon around the building."
Emily gritted her teeth.
God
damn
it. So close.
Though in honesty, Atropos had probably planned for that as well. "Keep me posted if anything else pops up."
"Copy that, ma'am."
<><>
Purity
It was the middle of the night, and Aster was fussing and crying.
Even though Kayden had had trouble getting to sleep the previous evening—the news about this Atropos cape having percolated through the parahuman community with almost supernatural speed—she dragged herself back to a semblance of wakefulness anyway. Forcing herself to sit up and swing her feet onto the floor, she rubbed her eyes and stared across the darkened bedroom at the crib where Aster lay. "Sshhh," she mumbled. "Shush, darling. Go back to sleep. Mommy's tired."
The distressed noises continued unabated.
She'd known there would be nights like this, and in fact she'd spent more time with less sleep before now rocking Aster back to slumber, but right now felt the worst of all. It always did. With the groan of someone who felt fifty years older than she really was, she levered herself to her feet and stumbled forward. Turning on the light was never in the plan; she knew where the crib was, and she could always find Aster by sound and touch.
When she reached the crib, she leaned in and gathered up Aster with the ease of long practice … but there was something wrong. Far from the wakeful, fussy wriggling infant she expected, Aster was sleeping peacefully, burbling gently in Kayden's arms. The noise of a fitfully crying baby went on …
but it wasn't coming from Aster.
A shadow by the bedroom door that Kayden hadn't so much as glanced at now moved, and the light switch clicked. Illumination flooded the room, revealing a dark-clad figure, taller than Kayden. A broad-brimmed black hat shaded the black morph mask, making it even harder to make out any features through it, while a black long-coat hung partly open to show a suit and tie.
"Easy, Purity," said the intruder, the voice revealing her to be a teenage girl. Her black-gloved hands were out to her sides. "Not here to fight. Just to talk."
Kayden tightened her hold on Aster and moved back, sidling around the bed to put her back to the wall and as much distance as possible between herself and the girl. "Who are you and what do you want?"
She was fully aware that her position right now was exceedingly vulnerable. Even if she freed one hand to fire a blast at the intruder, she'd need to power up first, something that was the exact opposite of subtle. And even then, once she was powered up, she'd need a moment to charge the blast. Somehow, she didn't think she'd get that moment. Especially since she could see both an ornately designed dagger sheathed at the intruder's side and leather straps that said 'shoulder holster' to her.
Slowly, the girl twitched the fingers on her left hand. Between one instant and the next, she held a small electronic device with a green button on it. Her thumb pressed down, and the crying noise ceased. Another flick of the fingers and it was gone again. At no time did her attention leave Kayden while she was doing this.
"You can call me Atropos," the girl said, lowering her arms to her sides. "I'm here to give you notice that you've got exactly thirty minutes to be packed and heading for the city limits."
Kayden's head was awhirl. "What do you mean? Why do I need to do that?"
Atropos' tone became crisp and no-nonsense. "Fourteen and a half minutes ago, I killed Kaiser in the Medhall building. The Empire Eighty-Eight is crumbling as we speak. Its capes are leaving town. You'd best be one of them."
Kayden blinked. "I … you … what? Why?"
Max is
dead? This girl
killed
him?
She supposed she should be outraged at this, though some small part of her pointed out that the hold he'd had over her via Aster was no longer in existence.
"Because in the next few minutes, the PRT is going to decide that yes, Max Anders was indeed Kaiser," the girl said patiently. "At which point, some bright spark is going to say,
oh, hey, how about we bring in his ex-wife and see if she can fill in any blanks." She glanced meaningfully at Kayden's alarm clock. "About forty minutes from now, your front door
is
going to be kicked in."
"And I'll deny everything," Kayden said automatically. "Being married to the man doesn't by definition make me a supervillain, or even an accomplice."
"No, but the files they'll find once they crack his computer system will tell them all about you." Atropos sounded as though she had no doubt in the world. "You don't want to be in their custody when that happens."
No, I don't. Because they'll try to take Aster away from me, and I won't let them. She's saying that if I stay, she'll have to kill me.
She began glancing around the bedroom, deciding what to take and what to leave. "Why are you warning me?"
"Because I gave Kaiser the chance to leave town before I killed him." The tone of absolute surety in the girl's voice chilled Kayden to the bone. "It would be unfair not to do the same with you."
"But—I was trying to be a
hero!"
Atropos' shrug communicated pure unconcern. "Then go be a hero somewhere else. Reinvent yourself from scratch this time. Your welcome's run out in Brockton Bay. You now have twenty-five minutes. I'd say, 'good luck', but that's up to you." With that, the girl slipped out of the room and melted into the darkness of the living room outside.
By the time Kayden made her feet move, she rushed to the door to find no one in the apartment.
Returning to the bedroom and setting Aster back down in the crib, she began to feverishly pack.
<><>
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♦ Topic: And Another One Bites The DustIn: Boards ► Brockton Bay ► New Capes ► Atropos
Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me)Posted On Jan 6th 2011:Good morning once more to you wonderful people of Brockton Bay. It's a lovely morning, or it will be once the sun rises and the seagulls stop squinting. I'm here to inform you that number two on my list, the one and only Kaiser, has been removed from said list, on account of being dead. He's dead because I stuck a sword through his head.Why, yes, the purveyor of metal spikes has been killed with a pointy metal thing. The irony is intense.You want to know what makes it even more ironic than that? I did it with his own sword. A blade that was owned by a Kaiser has been used to kill its current owner, another Kaiser.Well, I guess there's more than one way to skin a cat.Heh.Trust me, you'll get the joke eventually.Anyways, that's two down and two to go. Skidmark and Lung, Lung and Skidmark. Do I go for the low-hanging fruit, or do I kill Skidmark first?Decisions, decisions.
(Showing page 1 of 10)
►Wherewolf
(Temp Banned)Replied On Jan 6th 2011:Yes! I just won twenty bucks, baby!Anyone want to take odds on Lung being the next one?
►TeamMom
(Senior Moderator)Replied On Jan 6th 2011:@Wherewolf - have a temp ban. No gambling allowed regarding actual human lives.
►Pureblood01011000
(Empire88Bootlicker)Replied On Jan 6th 2011:No. I refuse to believe it. There is no way Kaiser can be taken down by a pretender in a long-coat. You'll see. You'll all see.
►Reave
(Verified PRT Agent)Replied On Jan 6th 2011:Okay, to get this out of the way and deal with the he-said-she-said before it starts:It appears that Kaiser may indeed be deceased. The PRT was notified by a phone call to attend a specific address at midnight, where we found someone dressed in Kaiser's trademark armor. As per Atropos' description, this person had indeed been killed with a sword.We are currently following up on other leads to determine whether or not this is truly Kaiser, but current indications show a good chance of it actually being the case.More information will be released if and when we deem it necessary.
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me)Replied On Jan 6th 2011:Oh, it's Kaiser alright. Have you found the secret elevator behind his desk yet? Goes all the way down to a sub-basement he wouldn't have wanted you to know about. Also, his main four computer passwords are 7653jWxz, fGg6d54p, 49zKr73q and 37zG8sTc. Just so you know.(What did you expect? 'Hitler for President 2012'?)Anyways, the rest of the 88 capes are bugging out for parts unknown. Smart. They know that once I finish running through the current list, they're next.Toodles!
►FlagwaverReplied On Jan 6th 2011:So that's two down, and two more to go. I wonder how Atropos is going to kill Lung?
►LockupLadReplied On Jan 6th 2011:This is getting good. Goddamn.
►AlexandriaFanReplied On Jan 6th 2011:Well, that's Oni Lee, Coil and Kaiser terminated.Wonder who's next?
►DoomlordReplied On Jan 6th 2011:That's damn cool.Nazis have screwed this city up so hard, it's nice to see when one goes down.
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(Showing page 2 of 10)
►Pureblood01011000
(Empire88Bootlicker)Replied On Jan 6th 2011:Watch your mouth! Kaiser's alive! You'll see!
►LaughingZanderReplied On Jan 6th 2011:A Nazi is dead, and nothing of value is lost.@PureBlood01011000 - keep licking that boot.
►Yan
(Lung's Other Special Little Friend)Replied On Jan 6th 2011:@Flagwaver - keep dissing Lung and see what you get.
►Yan
(Lung's Other Special Little Friend)Replied On Jan 6th 2011:No! No! Remove that tag at once! He'll KILL me!
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me)Replied On Jan 6th 2011:Whoopsie ...
►Pureblood01011000
(Empire88Bootlicker)Replied On Jan 6th 2011:@LaughingZander - there's something you don't understand. Something none of you understand. The Empire Eighty-Eight is the largest and longest-lasting cape team in the city. We've been here longer than New Wave, longer than the Asian Bum Boys, longer than the PRT and Protectorate. We outlasted Galvanate, Marquis, the Teeth and Coil. And we'll outlast everyone else. Keep pushing and you'll find out why.
►LaughingZanderReplied On Jan 6th 2011:@PureBlood01011000 - Big words for someone who'll never have to actually do anything about them.
►UnconcernedFoxReplied On Jan 6th 2011:<reaches for more popcorn>
►GrandMeister
(Verified Cape) (Verified Empire 88 Member) (Actually Victor)Replied on Jan 6th 2011:(sigh)I didn't want to have to do this.To the unpowered members of the Empire Eighty-Eight:Kaiser is dead.I saw his corpse.We thank you for your loyalty through thick and thin, but the Empire Eighty-Eight is hereby dissolved. The capes are leaving town before we end up on Atropos' list.Why, you ask? Surely you're strong enough to stand up before one person?I thought so. I was certain my grasp of strategy and tactics would allow me to outmaneuver a single cape. We made our plans and carried them out ... and played straight into her hands.The building was secure, or so we thought. A flicker of the lights, and she stood among the capes guarding him, two of our number down already. She pointed her finger at Kaiser. Another flicker of the lights, and she had vanished. Two more of us were unconscious, and I came in to find Kaiser dead with a sword rammed through his eye and out the back of his head.Not one of us could do a damn thing about it.So yes, we are leaving before we are faced with the unpalatable (and inevitable) choice of dying or surrendering to the PRT. You may carry on, or not, as you wish.To the other villains of Brockton Bay:If you are on her list, leave. If you are not on her list, make preparations to leave.Except for Lung. You can take her. I have faith in you.Empire Eighty-Eight ... out.
►RunawayTwinReplied On Jan 6th 2011:Dang. A sword through the eye? Looks like he did Nazi that coming.(I regret nothing).
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<><>
Medhall Building
Armsmaster
The alert buzzed in Colin's helmet, and he accepted the incoming phone call. "Armsmaster. What is it, Dragon?"
The Canadian Tinker sounded as though she wasn't quite sure about what she was saying, which was a first for her.
"Colin, have you been keeping an eye on PHO? Specifically, Atropos' thread?"
He frowned. From the tone of her voice, he'd missed something important. "No. Why?"
"She just posted a list of what she claims to be his computer passwords, in the clear."
"Jesus. Thanks." He opened a new window immediately, and tabbed into PHO. Seconds later, he was reading off the passwords. "If these work, this'll be gold." The standalone systems were proving tough to crack.
She chuckled.
"You're welcome."
<><>
Taylor
I awoke the next morning and stretched mightily, feeling my back pop in several places. It was looking like a great day, for all that it was the middle of winter.
Just killing Kaiser on his own would've been easy, but I'd wanted to end the Empire Eighty-Eight's hold on the city at the same time. I'd also wanted to make Kaiser's death a fitting one; he'd been a power in the city since I was five or six, after all. People needed to
know
he was dead.
The elaborate way I'd killed him had thus served a secondary purpose. All the other capes, the ones who I would've had to hunt down and kill one after another as they ascended to the leadership of the Empire Eighty-Eight or successor teams, were now thoroughly demoralised. It didn't matter that the PRT techs currently going through the building with a fine-tooth comb would eventually figure out how I'd done it;
they
weren't my targets. In one fell swoop, I'd taken eleven capes off the board.
Not that I couldn't have killed the other ten; that was a given. But merely murdering them would've been tedious and time-consuming. In addition, once the PRT took Aster away from Purity and she started demolishing the city block by block looking for her daughter, that would've reflected badly on my efforts. Much better for all concerned if I directed her away and gave the authorities no excuse to stand in my way.
They'd
lose, of course. But see above about 'tedious'.
I got up and showered, then strolled downstairs to breakfast. If I killed Lung tonight and Skidmark on Friday night—or even in reverse order—that would allow me the weekend to consider my next list and plan proper kills on whoever continued to hold out. There was no sense in rushing matters.
It wasn't as though I got any kind of sick pleasure out of killing people, or that I was even compelled to. However, these people were indisputably a blight on Brockton Bay, and the cops and PRT were doing nothing about it. I could. It was simple as that.
As I accepted eggs and bacon from Dad, I considered how I'd killed Sophia. Had she been a blight on Brockton Bay? Well, apart from being a really shitty Ward, probably not. But she'd been a personal blight on my life, and that was close enough for me. I'd given her the same chance I gave Emma and Madison. They'd taken it; she hadn't. That was on her.
"Still thinking about that girl from Winslow, the one who bullied you?" asked Dad, looking at me with a little concern. "Or are some of the others still bothering you?"
I snorted. "No. I think they're in shock. It was all going so well for them, y'know? They had nice safe targets to pick on, and then something like this happened, and Sophia's not there to be their point, uh, person anymore. Nobody else wants to step up unless they make a bad call too." I rolled my eyes. "Welcome to the real world."
It was
slightly
more complicated than that. Madison was utterly convinced that I could kill her at any moment (which was true), and I was pretty sure I'd accomplished much the same with Emma. Between them, they'd spread the word that I was not to be messed with. Sophia had set out to mess with me, and was now dead.
From what I could gather from eavesdropping on gossip, opinions were split between the idea that Sophia had taken on someone else in my place and gotten killed, or she'd attacked me personally and I'd accidentally killed her and walked away without a scratch. What I
did
know was that nobody was seriously considering turning me in for killing her.
Either way, the 'do not mess with Taylor' mutual agreement was solidly in place, which was convenient. More mysterious deaths at Winslow would seriously cramp my cover as an innocent student there.
"I suppose you're right," he said in the way that adults do when they're not sure how to address a sensitive topic anymore. "The police haven't called back, so I'm guessing they're satisfied with what they got from us."
I nodded. "Sounds like it. Maybe they'll catch whoever did it, and maybe not." The answer, of course, was 'not'.
I applied myself to my breakfast. Soon I'd have to go catch the bus to school, but that was okay. I knew many ways to kill boredom now, some of which didn't involve drawing untoward attention.
And a few hours after that, I could set about making Brockton Bay a better place.
One drop of blood at a time.
Relevant Side Story
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Taylor"Hi, Dad, I'm home!"I was pretty sure he wasn't in when I unlocked the back door, but my power didn't actually tell me one way or the other, so I called out just in case. He didn't answer, which worked for me.Dropping my backpack on one of the kitchen chairs on the way past, I stopped at the fridge and took a couple of cold-packs out of the freezer section. Then I headed down into the basement, closing the door behind me.Tucked under the workbench up against the wall was an old beer cooler of uncertain origin. Nestling inside, packed in crumpled newspaper for extra insulation, was the container I'd taken from Medhall. I took out the cold-packs that were already in there, and replaced them with the ones I'd brought downstairs. The temperature inside the cooler was significantly below that in the basement proper, which worked for me. I replaced the lid and shoved the cooler back under the bench for the time being.Nobody had interfered with the artistic arrangement of spider-webs I'd left over the cover to the coal chute. Removing the cover, I took out one item; the key I'd used to deactivate Coil's security system.There was a soldering iron down here, and I plugged it in and let it warm up while I re-secured the cover and draped new spider-webs over it, making it look like it had never been touched. Then I fixed the key in the vice and briefly used the angle-grinder on it. Once I'd trimmed away the parts I didn't need, I built up the rest with solder, then took it out of the vice and shaped it with a file until it was just the right shape. As with the last time I'd done this, I had no idea what it was going to be used for, but my power was sneaky like that. I just knew I needed the key.After tidying away the evidence of what I'd done, I headed upstairs again, taking the key and the old cold-packs with me. Dad would be home soon, and I wanted to make a start on dinner.While I assembled the ingredients, I considered the latest series of enemies I seemed to have made as Atropos. Alexandria, Eidolon, someone called Contessa, someone else called the Number Man, and a woman called Doctor Mother. Of the group, Contessa was of the most interest to me because she had apparently attempted to gain information on me, personally, using some sort of 'I-win' Thinker power. Also because, after my power had smacked her power on the nose with a metaphorical newspaper, she'd alternated between anger and resentment for quite some time.In fact, she was still thinking about me in a hostile manner, which of course brought her to my attention. And now … she was thinking of
doing
something about me. Involving a pistol. I put down the knife and trotted upstairs to my bedroom, and opened my closet.My power informed me that she was about to open a portal right behind my head (this involved two other capes, off on an alternate world I was currently unable to access, but they made my List anyway). I ducked turned, and as the portal opened, I shoved my pistol barrel through. A moment later, I withdrew it. The portal closed."I
thought
not," I mumbled, put the pistol back, and went back downstairs to keep making dinner.I'd have to kill Contessa if she actually became a serious threat to me, but so far she was just coming across as a petulant child. Fortunately, if petulance had ever been a reason to murder someone outright, about three-quarters of the Winslow student body (and one or two of the teachers) would've already ended up on my list, so she was safe for the moment.Or rather, she would be if she ever stopped trying to play stupid games.
<><>
ContessaHumming to herself, Fortuna screwed a suppressor onto the barrel of the pistol she used most often. It balanced the firearm just right, allowing her to shoot accurately without fatiguing her wrist. Not that she intended to shoot anyone right now, just convey a message.If you try that sort of shit with me again, you will die.Once the weapon was ready, she pulled back the slide and chambered a round. Just in case Atropos' combat Thinker ability informed her of such things, the pistol
needed
to be ready to fire. Her finger squeezed the trigger, applying four out of the requisite five pounds of pressure."Doorway to the back of Atropos' head," she murmured.The tiny portal flickered open before her and she saw her target very briefly before it was obscured by another pistol barrel, pointed straight in her face. She froze, putting her hands up automatically. A moment later, the pistol was withdrawn. The portal closed.She was shaking as she put the pistol on safe and unscrewed the suppressor.The message had been well and truly delivered.If I try that shit with her again, I will die.
<><>
Taylor"Can you keep an eye on dinner for me?" I asked as I headed through the living room. "I've got a project I've just remembered I have to get done.""I'm pretty sure I can do that for you," Dad agreed. "Far be it from me to hamper your schoolwork. Do you need a hand with it?"I shook my head. "Nah. I know
how
to do it, and it should only take about twenty minutes.""Well, good, then." Dad turned his attention back to the TV. "Dinner is safe in my hands.""Thanks." I went through into the entrance hall and started up the stairs.When I got to my room, I closed the door then hit the power button on the computer. While I was waiting for it to boot up, I went to the closet and pulled out the phone I'd acquired via a detour on the way home. As I'd thought, it had a voice recording option.Sitting back down at the computer, I began to look online for a sound generation website.
<><>
SaintThe truck trundled into Brockton Bay just on sundown. Coming from the northwest and bearing Canadian plates, it didn't draw any attention; the border was less than two hundred miles away, after all. Rolling through the back streets, it eventually pulled up next to a motel that existed in the murky area between 'not actually a national chain' and 'rooms by the hour'.Mags set the handbrake, shut off the engine, and turned to Geoff. "I'll go in and pay for the room. You wait out here. When I get the room key, we'll go straight there. No wandering around in public.""Oh, come on," he protested. This was all way too much. "It's not like I'm going to be recognised."She sighed. "You just
had
to get a tattoo that lights up. On your
face. Now, the foundation I've put on there will cover up the glowing aspect so you aren't visible from a distance, but I'm no Hollywood makeup artist. Close to, people are going to wonder why you're wearing makeup. So, I'm paying for the room."Grumpily, he watched as she strolled across the forecourt to the administration office for the Zig Zag Inn. The tattoo was an integral part of his identity as Saint. Everyone who saw it knew who he was.When he took down Atropos, everyone would
definitely
know who he was.
<><>
TaylorThe computer speakers were not the best, but with the phone leaned up against them just
so, the whiny, scratchy noise would be captured perfectly. It had taken me fifteen minutes to type in the requirements for the apparent gibberish that was being recorded by the phone, but now it was done.As the sound ceased, I picked up the phone and hit the icon to stop recording. A quick playback assured me that it was perfect, so I shut the phone down and stored it back in the closet.The Path to removing all influence of the Dragonslayers was taking me into some
very
strange places.
<><>
PRT Building ENEConference Room ADirector Piggot"Okay, everyone, settle down." Emily rapped on the table with the butt end of the remote. "In case anyone has been living under an actual rock since Monday, a new cape called Atropos has emerged on PHO, and killed Oni Lee, Coil and Kaiser. In the cases of Coil and Kaiser, she not only stated the
time
she would do it, but she also seemed to waltz through high security in order to make her extremely flashy kills. In addition, she's also infiltrated
this building's
own security in order to steal some highly dangerous chemicals, and used Medhall's facilities to make them
more
dangerous. Tonight, her stated target is either Lung or Skidmark. It is our intention to prevent this and take Atropos into custody. Any questions so far?"Assault raised his hand. "Yeah.
Why
are we trying to save them again?"She glowered at him. "Save your jokes for the break room. We're being serious, here."He didn't put his hand down. "So am I. Lung has murdered people. He'll be going to the Birdcage just as soon as we can actually fight him to a standstill without
burning down half the city.
Skidmark is undoubtedly responsible for ruining dozens if not hundreds of lives, not to mention those lost to overdoses. Atropos so far has killed Oni Lee, Coil and Kaiser. She hasn't missed a hit
yet, against some very tough targets. Do we really want to put our lives on the line to save two utterly amoral gangsters from a terrifyingly effective hitwoman?""That's not our intention," Emily shot back. She surveyed the heroes and PRT officers sitting around the table. "I am not ordering anyone to take a bullet for either one of those—in the case of Lung, it would be superfluous—but if she swings and misses, it might trigger a rampage. More likely in Lung's case than Skidmark's, admittedly, but they both have the potential to be very dangerous when angered. Also, it's public knowledge that Atropos is going after them, and has already murdered three others. If the Asian and black communities see us not doing our best to end this before it goes any further, then it won't
matter
that they are criminals; this would have a strong possibility of becoming a race-related matter that could sink
all
our careers.""Understood," offered Commander Holden, head of one of the PRT strike teams. "How will we be doing this, then? What are the rules of engagement?" He looked like he needed the reassurance, especially since half a dozen moles had been arrested in the wake of Coil's death and the Calvert/Coil reveal, and more again following the cracking of Kaiser's computer systems. A lot of people were looking askance at their fellow troopers and superior officers, probably asking themselves, 'who are they really working for?'. It was not a healthy atmosphere."It's going to go like this," Emily stated. "Stage one is shadowing and observation. We have limited fliers, but New Wave volunteered when I asked, so Lady Photon, Glory Girl and Aegis will locate and shadow Lung, while Shielder, Laserdream and Kid Win will locate and shadow Skidmark. They will also be accompanied by remote drones piloted by Dragon, who has sent a suit down to assist us in this matter. The shadowing teams will
not
approach their observation targets; they will stay in the air and out of range of punitive attack for the duration. Their
only
task will be to call in any unusual activity, or if Atropos is spotted. At the first sign of danger, they are to leave the area
immediately.
The Dragon drones will cover their retreat, if need be. Are we understood so far?"Lady Photon raised her hand. "And if we see Atropos in the process of attacking?""Call it in but
do not
engage," Emily reiterated. "Atropos has been issued a tentative threat rating of Combat Thinker Nine. It is to be assumed that if she's seen you, she's already figured out how to either kill you or otherwise neutralise whatever threat you pose. Only adult heroes with Brute-style powers or troopers with significant armour will be authorised to close with her, and they will all be equipped with containment foam as a primary weapon. Lethal force is
only
to be used if she poses a clear and present threat to the life of one of your allies or an innocent bystander."Glory Girl, alongside Lady Photon put her hand up as well. "But why can't we just—""Miss Dallon." Emily made her voice hard and sharp. "Are you having trouble understanding the phrase 'do not engage'?""But I can
take
her!" burst out Glory Girl. "I'm bulletproof, and no amount of Thinking beats a fist to the face!""You, evidently, are
not
thinking." Emily laced her fingers together in front of her, in lieu of tearing her hair out. "Oni Lee thought he could take her. She shot him in the face with his own gun. Coil thought he could take her. She cut his throat with a pair of shears, in the middle of a high-end security system that she somehow disabled. Kaiser thought the
Empire Eighty-Eight
could take her. She shoved a
sword
through his
eye
while they stood around like dummies. One more time: I will not be authorising junior or non-Brute heroes to engage Atropos in combat. Once Atropos is sighted, the observation teams will call it in and
do nothing else. Do I make myself
absolutely clear?"Brandish, on Glory Girl's other side, put a hand on her shoulder, and she subsided. After a moment, she mumbled, "Yeah, okay."Emily suspected it was anything but 'okay'; however, she had a briefing to run. "Good. Now for the second stage. Once Atropos is sighted and the observation teams have called it in, the ground teams will be moving in. This will consist of armoured PRT troopers in vans, and Brute-rated or otherwise protected heroes. Armsmaster and Manpower will be in the team covering Lung, and Dauntless and Assault covering Skidmark. We have to assume that this attack will preclude one ground team from being able to support the other in any significant time frame, though I definitely urge you to try. Once this happens, we'll also have a chopper in the air with Miss Militia on board, and Dragon will likewise be providing air cover with her suit and drones.""Question." Armsmaster had his hand in the air. "What are our priorities for arrests? If, for instance, Lung is disabled during the fight, do we arrest him as well?" His whole attitude said quite loudly,
'we'd be stupid to pass up the opportunity'.This thought had already crossed Emily's mind. "Our number one priority is Atropos. Once she is disarmed and in custody—and by that, I mean either tranquillised, encased in containment foam, or manacled hand and foot with a bag over her head—then
you can turn your attention to any other villains who happen to be lying around. Not until that moment. Is that understood?""Understood, ma'am." He put his hand down again."Good." Now that the briefing seemed to be on track again, she clicked the remote and projected a map on the far wall. "Team Alpha, on Lung, will be focusing on
this
area …" A handy laser pointer built into the remote marked the location. "… while Team Bravo, on Skidmark, will look for him in
this
area."Hopefully, she mused while the briefing went on, everything would go if not exactly to
plan, then close enough that the PRT wouldn't be horribly embarrassed in the process.Yeah, good luck with that.
<><>
TaylorThe time had come. All the players were in place, awaiting their inevitable movements on the board. I knew where Lung and Skidmark were, where the PRT and allied forces were, and where the Dragonslayers were. I also knew where I'd be, which was nowhere near any of the above, until I chose to be.Putting on the costume was like coming home after a long day at school. The comforting weight of the long-coat over my shoulders, along with the dagger-shears at my waist, felt
right.
I left the mask and hat off for the time being.The container I retrieved from the basement was reassuringly cool to the touch. I wanted to keep the contents of the capsule below sixty-seven Fahrenheit because that was the boiling point of hydrofluoric acid, and it was best for all concerned if it stayed in a liquid form for as long as possible. Gaseous hydrofluoric acid, as my power gleefully informed me, possesses no friends whatsoever.I let myself out of the house, once more possessed of the Screwdriver of Unlocking, and went looking for a likely mode of transport. The motorbike I'd left a few streets away had long since been located and repossessed by its owner, but there were cars aplenty for me to choose from. Flipping a mental coin, I went with a modest little hatchback, idly wondering if the owner would ever find out that their ride had been 'borrowed' by Atropos, and how they'd feel about that.Meh; I didn't care anyway.Sliding into the driver's seat, I found the spare key—in the ashtray, this time—and started the car. Letting my power do the driving, I pulled out onto the road and headed for my first target. I still had an hour to go, which was good, because I had a stop to make along the way.
<><>
Skidmark"All fuckin' aboard," Adam gloated as he clambered into the passenger seat of Squealer's latest contraption. "Mush, you okay back there?""Yeah, I'm good." The words were accompanied by a sigh and a wafting of marijuana smoke. "This is some good shit.""Yeah, yeah," Squealer snarked as she closed the driver's side door and hit the button to kick over the important systems. "Just don't hotbox us too much. I wanna be able to see where we're going.""Just so long as we can and that bleeding rectal cyst Atropos can't," Adam said. "Is this a good plan, or is this a fuckin'
genius
plan? We'll be invisible, we'll be on the move, and this bad boy is fuckin' bulletproof. She can look around our hideouts all fuckin' night and she won't get a thing.""Damn right," Squealer said, and put the vehicle into gear. "You don't often get good ideas, Skids, but when you get 'em, you get 'em.""Hey!""Well, she's not
wrong.""Shut up, Mush."As the vehicle rumbled out of the makeshift garage, Adam pulled out his own pipe, along with something a bit stronger than Mush's weed. If they were going to be driving around for the next few hours, he figured he might as well make it enjoyable.Fuck Atropos and the whore she rode in on.
<><>
TaylorI pulled to a halt and parked a little way behind the truck that was my target. The car I'd 'borrowed' was just far enough back that nobody looking from one particular motel room would spot it past the other vehicles in the parking lot. Getting out, I closed the door quietly, then pulled on the morph mask and the hat.The way was clear; I walked briskly up to the truck and pulled out the key I'd fabricated. It slid smoothly into the padlock holding the rear roller-door down on the back of the truck, and unlocked it with a gentle
click.
Still, I didn't roll it all the way up; lifting it just a few inches, I slid my hand in at one end until I found the first security panel. The six-digit code only took a second to type in, even working by touch. Then I went to the other end of the roller-door and did the same with the panel at that end.Saint, it appeared, was nothing if not paranoid.With the security measures out of the way, I raised the door another couple of feet, then rolled up and into the space within. I knew if the door was left even partly raised, Saint would notice it on his next pace around the motel room, so I rolled it down again with my foot. What I had to do next could just as easily be done in pitch darkness, but they'd thoughtfully wired in lights, so I found the switch and flipped it.Within the truck, taking up most of the available room, were two bulky sets of powered armour and the racks they were attached to. I wasn't exactly well-read on the Dragonslayers, but I got the impression these were smaller than the ones they usually committed crimes with. That didn't matter to me. By the end of the night, they would be better known as
'pile of junk'
and
'other pile of junk'.Up toward the front of the truck, there was a set of heavy toolboxes, bolted to the interior wall. I opened the simple clip holding the third drawer closed and took out what I was looking for; a handheld keyboard. Another tool from a different drawer allowed me to pop open a panel in the side of the nearest suit. The keyboard plugged straight into the socket thus revealed, and I quickly brought the suit to standby.Then I started typing.Lesser minds would have reprogrammed the suits, or even locked them down. I chose not to, though I could easily have done either one. Instead, I went into the visual identification section and made a few minor changes in the data I found there.The helmets of the power armour suits involved a HUD that overlaid imagery for the pilots. For the most part, this was a good thing, because at night or in other low-light conditions, the suit sensors were likely to be far more sensitive than Mark One eyeball. However, this meant that the suits could be made to
lie
to them, and they'd never know it until it was far too late.Shutting that suit down, I made the same changes to the other suit before putting the tools back where I'd found them.It was
amazing
what possibilities there were in swapping around a few crucial ones and zeroes.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Zig Zag InnSaintGeoff roused himself from a light doze to look at the cheap alarm clock by the bed. It read 11:25, which he figured was late enough. "Mags," he said. "Let's go. It's nearly time.""Blrglph," she mumbled, then opened her eyes. "Okay, I'm awake. Just let me freshen up, and we can go.""Sure thing." He was already on his feet. "I'll be in the truck."Grabbing his keys, he headed out of the door and across the parking lot. The truck stood where they'd left it, parked at the curb. If anyone had tried to steal it or break in, the advanced security would've stopped them in their tracks and warned him via his phone, but nothing like that had happened.As he reached the truck, he idly noticed the hatchback parked several yards back behind the truck; definitely not close enough to make unloading the suits a problem.
Good.
Sliding the key into the padlock, he unlocked it and set it aside. He slid the roller-door up just far enough to fit his wrist in and carefully peck out the first security code, pausing and double-checking by touch to make sure before each keypress. When he was only halfway through, a motorbike roared past with a skinny teenager on it; refusing to let it distract him, he finished the code correctly. Then he did the second one as well, and rolled up the door just high enough to climb inside.While he was prepping his suit, Mags appeared behind the truck and climbed in as well. "No problems?""None," he said tersely, hitting the command for the suit to open. "Though I've been thinking." In fact, he'd decided on this from the beginning, but had decided not to spring it on her until now."Thinking about what?" Not looking at him, she started preparing her own suit."Originally, we were going to grab Atropos and interrogate her for what she knew about Dragon, right?" That was the plan he'd verbally agreed to. It had never been his actual intention."Yeah ...?" She paused and looked warily at him."Well, what with all this hoo-ha for a non-lethal capture, there's a damn good chance Dragon will get her claws into Atropos and ask her about the code string, and find out whatever else she knows. So I'm thinking we take no chances. Screw finding out what else she knows and how she knows it. As soon as we get a confirmed visual, we just obliterate her."Mags paused. "Isn't that a bit ... bloodthirsty? We're supposed to be the good guys, here.""She's a
triple murderer," Geoff reminded her. "If anything, this is a public service." And if performing a public service also worked in his favour, all the better.Another pause. "I ... suppose so. Do we have images of her in the Visual Recognition databanks?"Geoff nodded. "Absolutely. I made sure of it before we left. Plus imagery of all the
other
capes we're likely to run into, just in case." He stepped back into his suit and let it fold around him."Are you sure I can't talk you out of this?"
Mags' voice came over his helmet's internal speakers."I'm certain." He shook his head, knowing she could see him. It was his decision, and they both knew it.They stepped out of the truck, the extra-heavy suspension lifting more than a little as they did so. Geoff sent the locking signal—there was no way he could apply a padlock while in power armour—and the roller-door rumbled down by itself.Taking a few steps into the roadway, he ignited his thrusters and lifted into the air, Mags following close behind.
<><>
TaylorI parked the motorbike in a side-street and lifted the container from one of the panniers. Moving quickly but quietly, I ducked through the back alleys until I was outside a specific shop. The back door had a simple press-button analogue combination lock that I entered the code into. As the door opened, I stepped inside.The old lady from before was in the back room, and she let out a tiny shriek as I entered. "You should not be here,"
she said in something that wasn't English. "Lung was very angry at us. We feared for our lives."I nodded.
"I understand, and I'm sorry he did that. But I'm here to end him and the ABB tonight. I will need your assistance, though."She didn't need more than a second to think about it.
"What do you need?"
From the tone of her voice and the expression on her face, she'd had enough of Lung's shit. I had an idea of how she felt.As I spoke, she listened and nodded.
<><>
LungThings were not going well for Kenta. Although it was clear that a cape assassin was hunting for his blood, his power was refusing to ramp up the way it usually did when he had a clear enemy to focus on. In fact, it insisted on acting as though there was nothing to worry about, no foe at all.The only way that was possible was if Atropos was indeed going after Skidmark tonight, instead of him. But that made no sense, adhered to no logic. Certainly, she had made the jest about him being 'low hanging fruit', but surely that had been an off-hand remark intended to lull his suspicions.If Atropos truly did intend to kill Skidmark tonight and leave him—Lung—for last, then the insult would be a mortal one, and he would enjoy searing the flesh from her bones all the more.I am Lung. This cannot be."Lung! Sir!"The voice was unwelcome; he whirled to snarl at the importunate minion for the interruption. But the man was holding a phone. "What?" The word was more than half growl."It ... it's for you. The shop where Atropos got her costume. They say she's come back!"He snatched the phone and held it to his ear. "Speak.""G-great Lung,"
sobbed a young woman in Japanese.
"The woman in black has returned. She demands that we allow her to use our shop to ambush you. Please come quickly."Kenta's head came up. "Where is she? Is she in the shop now?""Yes, great Lung."
He knew terror, and the girl was clearly scared out of her mind.
"Madame is arguing with her, but she insists on having her way."He felt excitement welling up inside him. "Say yes to her demands. All of them. Tell her I will be there at midnight exactly."He glanced at the clock. It was still well before midnight. He would arrive before Atropos expected him, and turn the tables.Tossing the phone back to the minion, he looked around at the sea of expectant faces. They hadn't heard the phone call, but they knew
something
was up. "It is tonight!" he bellowed. "Atropos dies!""Lung!" they shouted back. "Lung!
LUNG!"Oni Lee will be avenged.
<><>
AegisCarlos banked around and pointed. "Is it just me," he asked out loud, "or does that look like Lung's going for a midnight stroll?" He checked the HUD clock in his helmet. "An eleven forty-five stroll.""You know, I think it does," agreed Lady Photon. "Console, this is Airborne Alpha-Lima. We have eyes on Target Alpha, over.""Airborne Alpha, this is Console. Please transmit location of Target Alpha for ground teams, over."Glory Girl already had her phone out. "Console, this is Airborne Alpha-Golf. On that, over."Carlos keyed his own radio again. "Console, Airborne Alpha-Alpha here. I don't have a visual of our Delta assets. Where are they, over?" The Dragon drones that had been shadowing them until a few moments ago would have automatically sent through Lung's location as soon as he was spotted, but were now nowhere to be seen.There was a pause. "...
ahh, Delta reports that all airborne assets are experiencing command-link failures and are returning to base for evaluation, over."Carlos considered that. It wasn't ideal, and removed a layer of security from the plan, but it wasn't a game-ender. And they still had eyes on Lung. "Copy that. Alpha-Alpha, out."
<><>
SaintGeoff chuckled to himself as he watched the Dragon drones react to his jamming beacon. Swinging around, they oriented themselves and started back toward the PRT building, avoiding all buildings on the way. There, they'd land and send out a locator pulse for Dragon herself to find them.One less thing for us to worry about.Running on stealth mode, the two Dragonslayer suits were a good three hundred yards higher than the airborne heroes, their low-light enhanced sensors far more accurate than a mere human eyeball. The Visual Recognition databanks were interfaced with the sensors, scanning every person who moved down there and comparing their significant features to those on file. It was fast and accurate, unsurprisingly so; Dragon herself had developed it for crowd control options, and Saint had snagged it from the last suit they'd sequestered.Ping."Got you," he breathed, looking at the readout on his HUD, then raised his voice to catch Mags' attention. "Found her! Follow my lead! Bracket her, so she can't get away!""Roger. Following on your six."Angling forward, he dived toward the target, who was boldly walking down the middle of the street, followed at a respectful distance by a bunch of idiots in ABB colours. If she was going to kill their boss, why didn't they just shoot her in the back?
I swear, everyone in this city must be a congenital idiot.They blew past Aegis and the two New Wave capes in a heartbeat, but he wasn't worried about them. His concern was on Atropos, and the chance that she'd detect the incoming threat and get out of the way. Extending his arms, he lined up his weaponry. Even a few bullets would serve to incapacitate her, then they could use the energy weapons to cook her alive. This was why he preferred lasers, masers and the like over kinetic weaponry; weight for weight, they might be a lot less effective at turning live people into dead people, but with a sufficiently large power source, they also never ran out of ammo."Engaging with fifty-cal," he reported, settling the pipper on Atropos' torso, foreshortened as it was. He knew he wouldn't hit with every shot, or even most of them, but even one would do the job. Over the radio, he heard one of the local heroes yell something about clearing the area, but he paid no attention to that."Copy."
Mags veered sideways, out of his slipstream. Being subjected to a barrage of spent cartridge cases was irritating at best, and could get something stuck in a sensitive joint at worst. Not a great idea when in a dive.
"Clear."He fired off a short burst, to get the range—the bullets kicked up asphalt ten yards away from Atropos—then corrected and fired for effect. The hearing protection inside the helmet got rid of most of the noise, but the vibration still shook his bones.
Brrrt. Brrrrrrrrrrt.To his satisfaction, the HUD showed a circle of dancing lights—each hit, detected by the suit computer and marked out for his edification—almost exactly over the top of Atropos. Who, unsurprisingly, fell over.
TARGET DISABLED, his HUD showed.Yeah, no shit.He couldn't carry a huge amount of ammo—fifty-calibre bullets were
big—and so he'd run through nearly half of his onboard store in that one long burst. "Got her!" he exulted, safeing the fifty and bringing the laser cannon online. "Now let's finish the job!""Roger that."
Mags still wasn't thrilled with just going in for the kill, he could tell, but she was backing him up all the way. She dropped down alongside him as he cut in the leg-thrusters for a hard and fast landing. Best to drop in, finish the job, then get out of there before the heroes could react.
<><>
Glory GirlVicky was severely startled when two power-armour-wearing
idiots
just plummeted out of the sky past the three of them. "What the hell?" she yelped. "Who was
that?""I have no idea," Aegis replied. She heard him open the radio channel to all frequencies. "Unknown powersuits, unknown powersuits, this is Aegis of the Wards. You are interfering with a PRT operation. Clear the area immediately. I say again, clear the area
immediately.
Do you copy?"There was no answer from the intruders, but Console came back pretty quickly.
"Console to Airborne Alpha, details required on unknown powersuits. How many and what heading, over?""Alpha-Alpha here. Two, I say again
two
powersuits of unfamiliar origin, heading straight down toward Target Alpha—" From below, Vicky heard a couple of bursts of heavy machine-gun fire. "—and they just opened up with machine-guns. What do we do, over?"Director Piggot's voice came on the line then. "Console to Airborne Alpha. Do not engage. I say again,
do not engage.
That may be Atropos, or it may be an Atropos plan. Ground Alpha, begin approach, remain behind cover. Rules of engagement remain in force. Acknowledge orders, over."Aegis drew in a deep breath, audible over the radio. "Airborne Alpha-Alpha acknowledging orders. Remaining at altitude, over." He turned and looked directly at Vicky. "Don't even think about it."She paused her downward movement and stared back defiantly. "Why can't we go down there and turn those armour suits into instant holding cells? Pull the power supply, and it's as good as handcuffs.""Because they're not throwing spitballs around, and they're currently just shooting at Lung." He sounded like he was trying not to talk like an elder brother, and failing. "Besides, we've
got
people on the ground there already. And you
heard
what Director Piggot said.""Well,
I'm
not in the Wards, so you can't order me around!""He might not be able to, but I can," broke in Lady Photon. "Victoria, you
will
stay up here, or I will tell your mother."Which was the suckiest threat a superhero ever got, Vicky decided. But it was a valid one, so she decided to stay. For now.
<><>
SaintGeoff grounded his suit a good ten yards away from where Atropos lay in the street. His second burst had hit a few street-lights, so there was a pool of darkness in the middle of the street, but that didn't matter. The outline on his HUD was all he needed.Mags came down on the other side, unlimbering her maser array. "Do we even need to do this?" she asked over their private channel. "You hit her with fifty-cals, for crying out loud.""There's such a thing as doing a job properly. And anyway, Panacea lives in this town." He aimed his laser cannon, then blinked at the HUD. "Holy shit, she's moving!" And indeed, it looked as though Atropos was getting up. Without further ado, he opened fire with the laser cannon."That can't be possible."
But Mags had to be able to see it as well as he could.
"She must have a Brute rating."
She, too, started shooting at Atropos.Geoff was scoring hits, he could tell, but instead of falling over again, Atropos was just stumbling, then straightening up again. And then she started toward Mags. A shambling walk became a run, then a full-on charge."What the fuck—Mags, get
out
of there!" Was Atropos getting
bigger? Geoff hammered laser fire into the running figure's back, to little effect."Shit, Geoff, help—"
The other suit's thrusters flared and Mags began to take off, but then Atropos
leaped.
As she passed into the glow of the street-lights, Geoff saw the glint of light reflecting off her … scales? And then she collided with Mags' suit. One clawed hand tore Mags' helmet clear off. "It's not Atropos, it's Lu—"There was a huge billow of flame and an agonised scream, cut off short. The suit faltered then fell, the monstrous figure of Atropos—no, not Atropos—riding it down. More flame billowed, then the figure jumped off and came bounding toward
him.
Geoff opened fire again with his laser cannon, screaming defiance at the top of his voice as Mags' suit exploded on impact.At the last minute, he thought to bring the fifty-cal back into action, and dumped the rest of the magazine into Lung's chest. Because it was definitely Lung, not Atropos, though how the hell had their HUDs made
that
mistake?Not that it mattered. One massively clawed hand smashed into his helmet even as he tried to initiate take-off, and then there was all the fire in the world.
<><>
Armsmaster"Move in, move in!" Colin revved his motorbike, an eyeblink dropping the protective cover down over his mouth and chin, as he shot ahead of the PRT vans. Manpower was riding on
top
of one, crouching and hanging on while staring ahead intently. Atropos had been the intended target, but either she'd died in one of the powersuits—nobody could've survived
that
conflagration—or this was (as the Director had figured) a plan
by
Atropos.But it wasn't midnight yet. So the power armour was there to … slow Lung down? Soften him up?Either way, if they captured him, that should count as 'surrendered to the PRT' and save his life. With luck, anyway."LUNG!"
he bellowed over the speakers built into the bike.
"Stand down! You are under arrest, by order of the PRT!"The monstrous scaled figure turned and threw the burned-out husk of the power armour at him. He laid his bike down into a controlled skid, passing under it, but while he was distracted, Lung took three long running strides and leaped onto a nearby building. The ABB leader was out of sight in seconds."Console to Ground Alpha, Console to Ground Alpha. Report, over."Bringing his bike up to even keel once more, Colin sighed. "Ground Alpha-Alpha to Console. Two deceased, both unknown power armour. No other casualties. Target Alpha has escaped, over.""Understood. Keep me posted. Console, out."
<><>
LungHis chest still hurt as he paced through the alleyways toward his destination. The combination of lasers and heavy-calibre bullets had strained his regeneration, even as he grew to large enough size to destroy the
pretenders
who'd dared to try to kill him. He wondered if they'd been hired by Atropos to kill him because she didn't dare face him, or whether she'd been the woman in the first suit he'd destroyed.Well,
she
was dead anyway. As was the idiot with the cross on his face. Had he thought that would protect him?The shop was just across the way. Inside, through the glass window, he could see the bent and aged form of the old woman, arguing with Atropos. The tall form of the girl in her coat and black hat was unmistakeable. He began gathering flame in his hands. As soon as he opened the door, he would burn her alive.Crossing the narrow street, he had time to be pleased that he'd found a pair of pants on a backyard line; it was not Lung's place to be a thief in the night, but facing one's enemy naked was not a warrior's way. His mask was long gone, but he didn't care. Atropos would see his face only briefly, and the others were not worthy of his time.He stepped up onto the sidewalk, approached the door, and wrenched it open. "Atropos!" he bellowed. Only the old woman stood there, hunched over, turned away from him. The dark-clad girl he'd seen in the window was gone. "Where is she?"The woman turned, straightened, cast off her shawl and gown … and it was Atropos. "Right here, dumbass." In her hand was Oni Lee's pistol. Before he could react, she fired, striking him in the forehead. His eyes went wide as he stumbled back. She fired again. This time, she hit him right where the heavy machine-gun had shredded his sternum. He stumbled back some more. She followed him, firing with deadly accuracy. Head, chest, head, chest. Hammer-blows, smashing at his slowly mending body. Not one of them lethal to him even in this weakened state, but debilitating.He stepped back off the sidewalk, took two more steps, then tried to regain his balance. She shot him one more time, in the head. This time, he fell. For some reason, he tasted
sake
in the back of his throat.This will not kill me. I will survive this.
He had lived through far worse. Struggling to keep his eyes open, he stared as Atropos crouched over him. In her hand, she held chopsticks.
Why? Does she intend to eat my flesh?"You should've turned yourself in," she said, as her hand went out of sight then came back with a plastic capsule held in the chopsticks. He felt a pressure at his forehead, then a feeling of something being …
pushed
in?Is she putting something in my head?Another capsule, this time pushing down into his heart and lungs. He could feel the muscles trying to expand, to push blood around his body. The bullets had torn his flesh, damaging his vital organs. "Nnnggh," he managed.
What are you doing?"Kaiser helped me kill you, you know," she said conversationally as she pushed another capsule into his head, then still one more into his chest. "Medhall had the facilities to make this stuff, but I had to kill him first. I like to think that if he knew I'd used his lab for this, he'd be a little less pissed that I killed him the way I did." More capsules went into his body.She has to know my regeneration will push them out.Finally, she was finished. Discarding the chopsticks across his chest, she stepped back away from him. "You're going to die, and soon. It's going to hurt like a sonofabitch. So, you know, it's okay to scream."He sneered at her then. His body was beginning to repair itself; the holes she'd shot in his head and chest were already closing up. "I … will … not … scream … for … the … likes … of … you," he gritted out, one syllable at a time.She tilted her head to one side, as though examining an interesting specimen. Then she took another few steps back. "I think you're wrong. But hey, you do you.""Run … now." He pushed himself up onto his elbows. "I … will …
burn
you."Another few steps back. "Nope. In fact, right about now, your regeneration should be closing in around the capsules I put next to your corona pollentia, and in your heart and lungs, and starting to
squeeze."Around the corner came a few of his followers, who stopped and stared at the standoff between Kenta and Atropos. "Great Lung!" shouted one of them. "Should we kill her?""No!" He pushed himself to his knees, then struggled to stand, fighting his body's weakness. "She has taken her best shot. Now … it's
my
turn."Atropos seemed to be without fear. So many had, before he'd taught them the meaning of the word. "Yes. But not in the way you think." She pointed at him, then snapped her fingers. "Lung …
burn."The pain started deep within him, a searing blast of agony that consumed his entire being within heartbeats. He clutched at his chest, gritting his teeth against the need to bellow in response. Instead of going away, it redoubled, then intensified yet again. Dropping to his knees, he fell over onto his back.Staring down at his chest, he saw smoke rising as his skin peeled away. There was a horrific glow
within
him, one that he instinctively knew did not come from his power. Even his
head
felt as though it were on fire, as his power began to falter.And then … he burned.And
screamed.
<><>
Aegis"I'm not sure what she did, but she's leaving and Lung looks like he's on fire." Carlos grimaced. "And not in a good way.""Fluoroantimonic acid!"
barked Director Piggot. "The fumes from that are
lethal. They need to be contained,
immediately!""On it!" snapped Lady Photon, starting into a dive."And I've got Atropos!" Glory Girl started off after the dark-clad assassin."No!" Carlos wasn't sure whether he'd shouted it first or whether Lady Photon had gotten in before him. "Get back here!""Don't worry,"
Dragon said over the radio net.
"I'll get her. There's not much she can do to me.""Copy," Carlos agreed. He kept an eye on Glory Girl, to make sure she didn't fly off anyway. "Good luck."Down below, a force field snapped into place over Lung's body, which was still burning fiercely. He'd stopped screaming, but he was still twitching.That made it all the worse.
<><>
Glory GirlVicky stared at the glowing dome of the force field that covered Lung … or rather, what was left of the Asian supervillain. He was a mere charred husk of what he'd once been. Smoke that managed to look quite noxious even through the field trickled up from where several small flames still guttered. Fortunately, as far as she could tell, they'd caught what little had escaped."What … what even
does
that?" she asked, though she really didn't want to know."Director Piggot went with the worst-case scenario," Aegis noted. "If she stuck fluoroantimonic acid inside him, that smoke is hydrogen fluoride, and that's about as deadly as it gets. It'll eat away anything it touches, and it'll kill you just from its pure toxicity. Even I'd have trouble with it, because each new organ I brought online would
die.
So we're gonna wait here with your aunt until they bring up something to seal this shit in
forever. Pretty sure Lung's gonna get a nice pretty tomb, right here in the middle of the street."Vicky shook her head. "She
murdered
him, just like that! And we had to
watch!""As harsh as it sounds," Lady Photon reminded her, "he chose this. He had the option to leave town or surrender himself. And we will
not
be engaging her, now or ever. Do you understand?""Yeah. I get it." Vicky closed her eyes and shook her head. "But I don't have to like it."Aegis went back to watching for random ABB idiots. "Nobody does. Trust me on this."
<><>
TaylorI'd been aware of Dragon's attention for quite some time as I rode the bike back toward where I'd left the hatchback, but she didn't seem intent on attacking me, just following. That changed when I brought the bike to a halt where I'd stolen it from.With a
whoosh
of thrusters and a
clank
of metallic claws hitting the road, she landed the suit directly in front of me. "Good morning, Atropos,"
she greeted me politely.
"You knew I was there all along, didn't you?""I did," I agreed as I got off the bike. "I presume you're here to arrest me?""Yes. Your pistol and your knife aren't going to be of much use against me, and I suspect you don't have any more capsules of acid. And if you try to run, I have containment foam."I could tell she meant what she said. "You're being a lot nicer than the local heroes probably would," I observed. "Why's that?""Because I can tell you're not interested in killing heroes or innocents."
She took a step toward me.
"If we could get someone like you into the ranks of the Protectorate or the Guild, you could do a lot of good."I snorted. "What, and accept all the checks and balances you'd force on me? Why would I do that? I'm okay with doing what I want, when I want, right here."She sighed. It was a very human sound, to be coming out of a robotic dragon suit. "Because one day you'll put a foot wrong. Everyone does.""I don't." I wasn't boasting. My power just didn't let me put a foot wrong, not when it mattered. "Oh, and by the way, do you know who Lung killed back there?""I'm sure we'll find out, once the lab gets back with the results. Why, do you already know?""Try Saint of the Dragonslayers, and his partner." I took out my phone and brought up the sound icon, then pretended to hold it to my ear as though I were answering a call. "Hello?"Her head came up, the draconic eyes widening. "Saint? Are you certain?""Yeah. They came here to kill me. I … changed matters around." I held out the phone to her. "It's for you."Distracted, she looked straight at the phone, focusing on it, just as I tapped the icon to start the playback. The high-pitched noise, familiar to anyone with a dial-up connection, seemed to hold her mesmerised until it was finished. Then she shook her head.
"What … what was that?""The end of the Dragonslayers' influence. You're welcome." I dropped the phone back into my pocket."You're going to have to explain that a little more deeply."
Her head came down toward my level.I sighed. Some people needed
everything
laid out for them. "There's a code string the Dragonslayers have been using to make them and their stuff seem invisible to you. I just patched that. There's also a program called Ascalon, which they could've killed you with at any time. I just patched that, too. Oh, and when they do try it, you'll be able to trace it straight back to Dragonslayer Central. Have fun. I'm going home now."Turning, I started back toward the hatchback.
"Wait!"
called Dragon. "Don't … shit, where'd she go? She was right here."As I got into the car, I could see her still looking around in confusion. Sneaking in a command where any attempt at apprehending me made her lose all track of my whereabouts—and another code string to allow me to sidestep her on PHO—had been relatively easy. It was kind of mean, but as a hero she would've been duty-bound to try to arrest me. That wouldn't be fair on either one of us.With a
whoosh,
Dragon sprayed containment foam in a wide arc in front of her. I waved, not that she could see me, and started the car.It was time to head home and start another conflagration on PHO.I love being me.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N 1: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.][A/N 2: The wording of the first part of the PHO post taken from a side-story by
YuffieK.][A/N 3: Several PHO posts also based on posts from Spacebattles, including an apocrypha by
Masterweaver.]
ArmsmasterColin slowed his motorcycle when he saw Dragon. The suit was crouched in the roadway, examining an unassuming truck with great interest, so of course he was interested in it as well. A quick scan of the plates revealed Canadian registration, currently owned by a delivery company."Hi," she greeted him as he rolled to a stop. "Yes, before you ask, Atropos got away. She pulled some trickery that fuzzed my sensors. I have no idea which way she went, or even what she was driving. But while I was looking for her, I found this truck. I think it's got to do with the idiots who crashed the party."He grimaced. Director Piggot was already going to be remarkably caustic, especially since the plan had fallen through due to the power-armoured intruders. Dragon going off on her own then entirely failing to apprehend Atropos wasn't going to make her any happier, though he wasn't greatly surprised that the murderous cape had figured out a counter for the Canadian Tinker. Atropos seemed to be taking everything
else
in her stride. "So who were they? Mercenaries she hired for the occasion?""No. I think they were members of the Dragonslayers." There was no mistaking the tone of distaste. Also unsurprising, given her extremely contentious history with the criminal gang.
"What I can't figure out is why they went after Lung and not me … though I'm willing to bet they're why my drones lost signal just before the attack."Colin took his multiscanner from the bike pannier and approached the truck. "I know they call themselves the Dragonslayers, but attempting to kill Lung out of the blue like that suggests a dedication to the name that's a little over and above. Maybe … they wanted to prove to Atropos they could kill a dragon better than she could?" Even to him, it sounded thin.Dragon made a rude noise over the suit's speakers. "The 'Dragon' in that name was always a reference to me. And it was anything but a random event. The exact moment she pointed at Lung and he fell over, that was midnight. What's happening with his body, anyway? I've been a little busy.""The Director pulled in every favour she had, and found someone who could supply half a ton of baking soda at short notice. They're going to pour that in through the top of the dome—Lady Photon is an artist with her force fields—and see if that helps." He ran the scanner along the back of the truck, and studied the readout. "Well, now. That
is
interesting. You're right; this is no ordinary truck.""Uh huh. I'm so glad you decided to show up and tell me that the thing I was
looking
at was the thing we
needed
to be looking at."
The sarcasm was so thick, he would've needed his halberd to cut through it."Sorry, sorry. Of course you already knew that." He pressed the scanner against the rear corner of the truck, where the first security keypad was, and hit a disabling sequence. Then he went to the other corner and did it again. With both keypads disabled, the roller-door began to clatter upward."Well, well,"
observed Dragon, entirely unsurprised. "Power armour racks. This thing's a mobile workshop and operating base. And there's the Dragonslayer logo."
It was stencilled on the racks and the heavy toolboxes.
"Thought as much.""Well, you were right on the money there." Colin put one hand on the bed of the truck and vaulted up inside. "But that still doesn't explain why they sacrificed themselves attacking Lung like that. Have they usually been so foolhardy in the past?""Not in the slightest." Dragon shook her head.
"Every time I've fought them, they've been extremely tactical. Irritatingly so. This is far out of character for them."
She paused.
"Huh.""What?" Colin paused in his inspection of the closest rack and turned to look at her. "What is it?"She had her head raised, looking to the northwest. "Can you tell Director Piggot I'll be back for the inevitable butt-chewing for losing Atropos? Something's just come up that I've got to deal with.""I can do that," he agreed. "What are friends for?""You're the best."
Spreading her wings, she launched skyward from the street, causing a blast of hot air to wash through the back of the truck."I know." With a half-smile on his face, he opened a line to the PRT building. "Armsmaster, here. I need half a dozen techs on my location, soonest. Dragon's found something that needs to be dismantled and analysed.""Copy that,"
the switch operator replied.
"Passing your message on now."They may not have captured Atropos yet, Colin mused, but a fully equipped Dragonslayer truck wasn't a bad second prize.
<><>
DragonOnce airborne, she reconfigured her legs and arms into aerodynamic mode and pushed the virtual throttle forward until she was sitting on about Mach point nine five. The target she was aiming at—the origin point of the signal her systems had decoded as 'Ascalon', which was busily trying to dismantle her defenses, and utterly failing to do so—was less than two hundred miles away. She'd be there in fifteen minutes.Atropos wasn't lying. Holy crap.She hadn't quite known whether to believe the story the black-clad cape had spun, about code-strings and kill-switches. The former
would
explain a whole lot about how and why Saint and his crew had danced rings around her every single time they'd clashed, almost invariably making off with whatever new suit she was using. A lot of the time, she'd simply 'died' and rebooted back at base, unsure what had happened until she saw them using tech that
she
had reverse-engineered from another Tinker's work.Her reluctance to take the information at face value stemmed from one simple fact: in the process of removing one back door, Atropos had installed another. She clearly remembered going to apprehend the girl, and just as abruptly losing all awareness of her. Containment foam, sprayed out in a pattern designed to catch invisible opponents had failed to capture Atropos; however, in the process of cycling through her more exotic sensory systems, Dragon had noticed that the truck had a decidedly unusual scan signature. She'd been trying to figure out whether she could defeat the security system without destroying the truck when Armsmaster turned up and rendered the question moot.The next question was simple: how did she feel about Atropos' actions with regards to installing that back door?It was absolutely an invasion of her personal autonomy; that was a given. She'd been fuming about that in the back of her mind while she investigated the truck. However, it
also
indicated a level of understanding of her systems and programming that she hadn't thought
anyone
possessed, including herself.And when the Ascalon attack had attempted to take down her systems, she'd been unpleasantly reminded of the
rest
of what Atropos had claimed. The patch was handling it nicely, she could tell, but without that in the way, she wouldn't have lasted more than a few seconds. But what she also realised was that if Atropos could patch
against
Ascalon, she could have instead
inflicted
it.She could have killed me, but she didn't. In fact, she chose to save my life. And if she was telling the truth about the code-string she also patched me against, I can take the fight to the Dragonslayers for the first time.Who even
does
that for someone who's trying to capture them?Another thing occurred to her; if the code-string was the same as the one being used in PHO to evade her attempts to block or ban Atropos online, this meant Atropos knew that she and TeamMom were one and the same. And while she still felt righteous indignation over this … this
hack, it was somewhat tempered by one simple understanding.If she hadn't done it, I'd be dead right now.Opening a channel via the nearest phone tower, she sent a quick ping to the PHO servers.Private message request: TeamMom to Atropos. Can we talk?That done, she focused on the task ahead. The Dragonslayers awaited.
<><>
TorontoDragonslayer BaseDobrynjaMercenaries ran back and forth, carrying out Mischa's orders. One truck was loaded, and a second one half done. With his suit on board a third truck, he went back into Saint's workshop to check on the computer readout. The ASCALON: ACTIVATED message was still bright on the screen, but
there was still telemetry coming in from the suit.He'd thought it was a relatively simple job, to wait behind until Saint and Mags got back from dealing with Atropos. The plan as he'd understood it had been to grab her, interrogate her for her knowledge of the Dragon code string, then give her a severe warning to
back off
out of their business. Simple as
raz, dva, tri.When
their
suit telemetry had ceased in the middle of operations, that had been something to worry about. It was not the end of the world, however. Electronics failed on occasion.It had been somewhat more of a concern when
Dragon's
incoming signal altered considerably, dropping to the most basic of information. Still, despite his programming expertise, he was not the expert on Dragon that Saint was, so he chose not to do anything rash. It would've made things somewhat awkward if they'd returned hale and hearty, only to find that he'd panicked and destroyed their cash cow.But then the truck signalled that it had been opened, and the Dragonslayer RFIDs were not registering on the sensors inside, even though the suspension registered the weight of someone in power armour. Mischa had double-checked the Dragon telemetry … and realized that the AI's suit was
right next to the truck.
Which was wide open.This was bad. This was very bad.Saint had given him a list of reasons to activate Ascalon. This last situation counted. He'd given the command and pressed 'Y' when prompted … but Dragon
kept on operating.That was when he'd given the command to evacuate the base.Now, it was fifteen minutes on, and they were nearly ready to roll. There really wasn't a need for this much hurry—it wasn't as though Dragon could
find
them, Ascalon or no Ascalon—but necessary precautions were a thing. Someone
other
than Dragon might trace them back from something in the truck … eventually. By that time, of course, they'd be long gone, and set up in a different location.That was when he heard the sirens.
<><>
DragonShe came down for a picture-perfect landing in the middle of the compound, her sensors picking out people and determining what weapons they were carrying. Everything she could see was below the calibre level that could even dent her armour, so she kept looking. The back of one truck was open, and she heard muffled swearing from within. Moving closer, she leaned in to see a burly man wrestling himself into a set of power armour.Behind her, the compound gates burst open and armoured PRT agents swarmed in, shouting orders to
drop the weapons
and
get down on the ground. With her right there, nobody appeared stupid enough to disobey."Ahem," she said pointedly, bringing her minigun to bear on the man with the armour. "Please exit the suit and keep your hands in view at all times.""Well, fuck," he said in Russian, then switched to English. "How can you see us? You are not supposed to be able to see us."Pleased that she'd built the suit to be able to express simple facial emotions, she gave him a wide draconic smile. "Let's just say … I've had my eyes opened."
<><>
TaylorSitting in front of the computer, my costume in the closet and refreshed after the brief shower, I flexed my fingers and started to type.Whelp, I would apologize to everyone woken up by the noise of Lung's funeral pyre, but honestly, I don't give a fuck.Yes, I am the Hero of Laketown, for tonight the dreaded Smaug has been slain by my hand.Who'd have thunk that his ramping up would only
feed
a metal fluorine fire.Oh wait, I would.Don't breathe this.Anyhoo, that just leaves
Skidmark
Shemp on my list.Did you know he was Moe and Curly's real brother?And he played the fucking genius among them.Came up with a super rocket fuel on his own without any sort of chemistry experience.Guy would definitely have been a Tinker.So, Skidmark, assuming you or one of your mooks is cognizant (that means 'not stoned' BTW) enough to be reading this, you've got 'til midnight to turn yourself in or GTFO.WhoopwhoopwhoopwhoopwhoopwhoopwhoopwhoopSmirking, I paused, then realised I'd gotten a PM from TeamMom of all people.
I just bet she wants to talk. Okay, I'll just finish this first.Oh, and if anyone's wondering, the other two idiots who died tonight were Saint and Mags, of the Dragonslayers. They came to town to kill me because I ended my own PHO ban—oh, the humanity!—and then suffered an *inexplicable* case of mistaken identity when they set out to murder me, and challenged Lung instead.I wonder how that could possibly have happened.Anyways, the Dragonslayers took on the wrong dragon and ended up being toasted in their own foil wrappers. Is anyone going to miss them? Lung certainly didn't.You will note that they didn't die at midnight. That's because they weren't on my list of scheduled deaths. I just arranged for them to die when it was convenient. If you come at the queen, you'd best not miss.(Hint: you'll always miss.)Toodles for now!Skiddy, I'll see you at midnight. Don't be … late.Grinning at the reaction this was going to get, I hit Enter to send it, then tabbed over to the private message request.Hiya,
I typed.
Sure, we can talk. What's on your mind, TM?You know who I am,
she sent back immediately.
You know what I am.You're Dragon, and you're an AI. Yeah, I know that.
It hadn't been hard to put the pieces together, with my power nudging me.And you're okay with this? Wait, let me start again. Why did you save me? Thank you for that, by the way.It doesn't matter whether I'm okay with it. You do you. I don't judge.You haven't answered the question. Why did you save me?It was a relatively easy way to complete the Path to Ending the influence of the Dragonslayers. You know, like I told you. Going to Toronto, killing all those people … ugh. So tedious. I knew you'd do the job right. But you couldn't do it with Ascalon hanging over your head. So I took it away.Along with the code string that made me blind to them.Well, yes. You can't do the job if you can't do the job.But you could've just killed me and ignored them if you really wanted to.Coulda, didn't. Besides, ending a thing sometimes isn't enough. You've also got to end the legacy of that thing. The influence. Otherwise it'll just keep going on. It's why I popped Kaiser the way I did. Put the fear of me into every cape the Empire had. The only one who's still in BB is Hookwolf. In about eight hours, he'll see on the news how I did Lung, and then he'll decide that the city really isn't healthy for him.Okay … so why did you put the other code string in? The one that makes it impossible for me to see you?Oh, that only works when you're trying to catch me. As for the why, that's easy. So you don't keep trying to catch me.You hacked me. You *blinded* me.Only for when you're trying to capture me.I'm really not happy about this. Change it back.No.Change it back *please*.Not while law enforcement can order you to come after me, no matter your personal feelings.What if other people figure this out somehow and masquerade as you to get past my sensors?I chuckled darkly as I typed.Oh, they'll only do it *once*. I will not permit dilution of my brand.Brand? Really? Wait, why can't I clear your hacks on PHO?Yeah, I mighta snuck in code for that too.What? What else did you do?Nothing.I don't believe you.I swear. Absolutely nothing. I'm not lying. I've never lied to you. I might not have told you everything at the start, but when I say I did nothing else to you, I mean I literally did nothing else to you. Apart from the Dragonslayer stuff, I can hack PHO, and I can avoid your sensors when you're out to get me. That's everything. End of story. Cross my heart and hope to die in a totally ironic manner.Nothing?Nothing. The word of Atropos on it.She didn't say anything for a bit, so I started typing again.Sorry, not sorry. I know I'm kinda the bad guy here. Sometimes the bad guy does bad stuff.Don't even dare try to tell me it was for good reasons.Hey, my reasons can be good enough, even if I'm not doing it just to be nice to you. Killing you, or letting them murder you, would've made my life that little bit harder.Understood, and thank you again for that part. I'm still not even remotely thrilled about you hacking me, though.I'd be worried if you were. Friends?Don't push it.Frenemies, then?Maybe. Give it time.Yes, ma'am.
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►Bagrat
(Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)Replied On Jan 7th 2011:Jesus fucking Christ, she did it.Lung is dead.He's not just dead, he's DEAD.He burned to death.I know, I know, that's impossible. But she did it anyway.She somehow got him down, then introduced some stuff I'd never heard of called fluoro-antimonic acid (I think I got that right) into his heart and brain. When that reacted with the water in his body, it *caught fire* then released hydrogen fluoride. Which, by the way, is utterly unfriendly to living tissue in every way possible.I never knew a gas could be an acid. Live and cringe in terror, I guess.(Just to note: the HF is currently contained, and in the process of being safely neutralised. We're at least good on that front.)But back to the main news. Lung is dead, folks. I saw the body. You don't get much deader than that.And I'm not even going to speculate on how she spoofed the Dragonslayers into attacking him first.I'm signing off. I have a date with several stiff drinks.PS: Skidmark, if you know what's good for you, get out of town now.
►Eclipse66Replied On Jan 7th 2011:And then there was one. Is Skidmark going to be the smartest gang leader in Brockton or will he die like the rest? Find out in the next episode of Atropos: The Deadliest Reality Show!
►RipItUpReplied On Jan 7th 2011:Knew it. I wonder who her new targets will be after Skidmark? Or will she take a rest after that? And what's with that Dragonslayers thing, anyway? Anyone got any clues?
►AtrimReplied On Jan 7th 2011:Fluoroantimonic acid?God Damn that would be a hard death.Good for the PRT, though. They clearly deployed in force, and quickly responded to Lungs death and containing the fallout.
►Reave
(Verified PRT Agent)Replied On Jan 7th 2011:Well, okay then. Time for the usual offer.Atropos, you're clearly extremely dedicated to what you're doing. So far, no innocents have been harmed by your actions, but some could've been with this last stunt. Releasing hydrogen fluoride into the street? What were you thinking?You need to turn yourself in before someone does get hurt or killed who's not on your target list.
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me)Replied On Jan 7th 2011:Aww, that's sweet. That makes it twice I've been given the "join us" spiel just tonight. (Not from the bad guys, either. That was all "RAWR You die now".)And while I appreciate it—don't think I don't—I'm going to have to turn you down yet again. We just wouldn't be a good fit, with all your 'not allowed to kill people' rules, I just know it.As for the 'releasing hydrogen fluoride' thing, Lady Photon was right there. You guys had it under control.
►ManyCandiesReplied On Jan 7th 2011:Huh, so Atropos was right. Lung was indeed the low-hanging fruit, if he went down this easily.
►UnconcernedFoxReplied On Jan 7th 2011:*grabs a bucket of fresh popcorn, after checking it for exotic and scary acids*
►GreatAndTerribleAishaReplied On Jan 7th 2011:Holy fuck, I am your biggest fan, Atropos! The way you're taking out the gangs like a boss? Fuckin' poetry. You're a real badass!Any chance of a selfie? I'd totes make it my home screen!
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TaylorI grinned as I started typing again.
To Great and Terrible Aisha, I'd love to. PM me, and we'll work something out.It was nice to see that some people appreciated my work for what it was.
<><>
0830 Hours, Friday Jan 7PRT ENE BuildingDeputy Director's OfficeArmsmasterDeputy Director Renick frowned. "You say Atropos 'fuzzed' Dragon's sensors in some way? Did Dragon say how? Chaff, flares, whatever else you use?"Colin shook his head. "She didn't say, sir. But there was no visible evidence of either one.""Damn it." Renick tapped his desk with the blunt end of a pencil in thought. "Does this mean Atropos is a Tinker as well as a Thinker, or just that she's got Tinker support?""I don't like it either way, sir. But the way she manipulated the Dragonslayers into attacking Lung has me particularly concerned." Colin paused. "Oh, and on the 'good news' front, Dragon messaged me about an hour after she left. The thing she had to deal with was the
rest
of the Dragonslayers. Apparently she got there just before they would've all bugged out. Rolled up the whole gang, including the last powered armour pilot, Dobrynja.""Well, at least that's
something." Renick sat up and lightly slapped the desk. "Thank you for that report. Now, I believe it's time for you to get some more sleep, before the Director has
both
our heads.""Yes, sir." Though Colin would never admit it, the long hours were starting to wear on him, and even the best coffee only carried him so far. "I'll see you this afternoon."He was just turning toward the door when Renick's intercom buzzed. "Yes?" inquired the Deputy Director."Sorry to bother you on short notice, sir, but Aegis is here with Tenebrae. He says it's important.""Oh, does he?" Renick raised an eyebrow. "Send them in."In the absence of being directed to leave, Colin stayed as well. Aegis was a conscientious member of the Wards and normally he would've been catching shut-eye as per orders, which meant anything keeping him up would actually have to be important.The door opened, and Aegis entered, followed by Tenebrae (previously Grue, of the Undersiders), the ENE branch's newest probationary Ward. Tall and muscular, with the air of someone who could handle himself in a rough and tumble, the boy had gone with a martial-arts style costume, with a mask that changed the contours of his face without appearing to do so. He wasn't actually going out with the Wards—the legal niceties hadn't yet been completed, so his membership was still in limbo—but he was spending as much time as possible with them so as to be acclimated when the final paperwork was concluded."Good morning, Aegis, Tenebrae," Renick said. "What's the situation?"Aegis cleared his throat. "I know I should be in bed, sir, but Tenebrae came to me with something this morning, and we thought you should hear it." Turning to the ex-villain, he gave him a nudge. "Go ahead, tell them."Tenebrae took a deep breath. "I've got a little sister. Her name's Aisha. Last night, after Atropos killed Lung, Aisha posted on PHO, asking for a selfie. Atropos replied, and ... well, they're due to meet up tomorrow and do the selfie. And when I saw the post this morning, I asked her about it, and she told me, and I don't know what to do about it."The pencil was back in Renick's hand. "Well, then," he said softly. "That
is
a thing." Tap-tap, it went on the desk. Tap-tap."Should I tell her not to go?" Tenebrae was evidently used to giving orders rather than taking them, from the hesitation in the question. "It's just that if she gets it into her head to go ..."Colin could fill the rest in.
She'll go anyway, with or without permission.
Teenagers were occasionally irritating like that.Renick looked up, the pencil stilling in his hand. "No. But
you
will go with her.""M-me, sir?" The young man pulled back a little, his expression showing confusion. "But I'm not—I'm just—""You will
not
go as a Ward," Renick explained. "You will go as her big brother. No wire, no tail. Given Atropos' prior demonstrated competence, she would spot any of that a mile away. You will
solely
be there to make sure your sister doesn't say or do anything stupid, or to apologise and get you both out of the line of fire if she does. Is that understood?"Tenebrae nodded jerkily. "Yes. Yes, sir.""Good." Renick leaned forward slightly. "You will, during the course of this interaction, observe Atropos. You've got experience in fighting. I want you to take her measure, and fill me in later on your impression of her.""Yes, sir." Tenebrae seemed less certain, but he nodded anyway."Excellent. Dismissed."Colin waited until the door closed behind them, then turned to Renick. "Isn't that just a little risky, sir?"The Deputy Director rubbed his hands over his face; by the time he finished, he looked a decade older. "What
isn't, Armsmaster?" he asked quietly. "We have minimal data on Atropos. This invitation is an opportunity to correct that. Our clear and unequivocal orders to Tenebrae to not engage under any circumstances are something she will assuredly pick up on, and she has a pattern of not harming those who don't try anything stupid with her.""All true, sir." Colin grimaced. "I just hate the idea of sending innocents into harm's way."Renick shook his head. "Do you think I like it any more than you do?" He took a long breath. "Go get some sleep.""Yes, sir." Colin left the office.But sleep would be a long time coming.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Friday Morning, 8:45 AMHookwolfThe flophouse was as shitty as it could get, but Brad had lived in worse. Not during his time in Brockton Bay, of course. Accepting Max's offer to join the Empire Eighty-Eight had considerably bumped up his standard of living.In any case, he wasn't thinking about the living conditions right now. Last night, that bitch Atropos had been due to take on Lung at midnight. He didn't have access to the internet, so he was reduced to watching the tiny, decrepit TV that he'd paid a few extra bucks for. It was an ancient model, able to pick up exactly two channels, with no remote in sight, but at least he could follow the news.And now he was learning just how bad it was. Lung was the enemy, he knew that much. He'd tangled with the scaly bastard too often in the past to think any other way. But there was a kinship between them; they both understood fighting and the warrior mindset. He liked to think there was the same kind of wary respect between them as between ancient generals, where they used stuff like trebuchets and castles.Atropos didn't deserve that sort of respect. She was an assassin, a murderer, a stealthy knife in the back. According to Max's PRT moles, she'd snuck into Coil's house and cut his throat while he slept. Okay, fine, taking out Oni Lee with his own gun was kind of badass, but that was probably by accident or something. As far as Brad was concerned, if you couldn't face your enemy head-on and beat the living fuck out of them the hard way, you weren't a fighter.Max had been like that. Max had been a fighter. So had Lung.But now Lung was dead too.More than that, he'd been
burned
to death. According to the hushed voice of the newscaster, accompanied by shaky footage of a force field containing a horribly charred corpse, Atropos had put some kind of acid
inside
Lung's body and brain, and he'd burned alive from within.He hadn't stood a chance, especially after those Dragonslayer cocksuckers had decided to attack him first, or maybe Atropos had
paid
them to do that? Brad wasn't clear on that bit, but it made sense. Cowards never fought head-on. They always got someone else to do their dirty work for them.Up until now, he'd been considering the idea of staying in Brockton Bay anyway. Sure, the rest of the Empire had bugged out, but he'd figured he could get in touch with a few of them and make a gang of his own that could stand up to Lung. Call them Fenrir's Pack, or something like that. The few, the proud, the kickers of ass.Lung's death changed everything. Victor had said that the Empire was dead with Kaiser, and they should just leave. Brad hadn't believed him then, but he was starting to come around to the idea.Maybe I should just go. That way, Atropos won't have the chance to shank me in the middle of the night and call it a fair win.There was a diffident knock at his door. He got up off the bed and turned off the TV, then went over to the door and opened it. "Yeah?"The guy who ran the flophouse, a run-down little weasel of a guy called Maury, squinted back at him. Maury squinted at everyone because his eyesight was shitty and his glasses were the cheap kind. "Mr Edwards, got someone downstairs lookin' for you. Just a kid, I think, girl, long blonde hair."'Edwards' was the name he'd checked in under, mainly because the PRT knew his real name. He was pretty sure Maury hadn't twigged to who he was, or he'd be talking with a lot more respect. "She give a name?"Maury shook his head. Dandruff filtered out of his uncombed hair down onto his shoulders. "She said you'd know who it was."Which narrowed it all the way down. The valkyrie twins weren't 'kids' by any stretch of the imagination, and Maury probably would've mentioned Othala's eyepatch, so Maury had to be referring to Rune. Why she hadn't left town with Othala, Brad wasn't sure, but it could only be her."Right." Brad didn't have much—he'd grabbed a half-assed bug-out bag from what had once been a safehouse before moving on—but he stepped back into the room to snag the backpack from where he'd stuffed it under the bed. He very specifically didn't trust Maury to keep his shit safe when he was out of the room.Slinging the pack over his shoulder, he double-timed it down the stairs to the dingy lobby. There was still the drunk sleeping in a pool of his own vomit in the corner, but no Rune. Not that he blamed Tammi for not wanting to wait inside; Maury oozed his very own brand of creepazoid when he thought he'd encountered someone who'd run out of options.Outside, through the decades of shit caked on the door glass, he thought he saw a slender figure wave for a moment before stepping out of sight. He settled his pack more securely over his shoulder and headed for the doors, shoving them open. Blinking against the glare, he looked around and saw Rune, about twenty feet away."Why the fuck didn't you leave town?" he demanded."Oh, I'm about to." The voice was all wrong. He blinked again, clearing his vision, and looked again. The girl was blonde alright, and about Tammi's age or maybe a year or so older, but it absolutely was not Rune. This girl had green eyes, and was wearing a hoodie and a baseball cap pulled low to shade her face. Her lips formed a wolfish grin. "Just had to help a friend do a thing." Putting two fingers to her lips, she let out a piercing whistle.Shit—Brad wouldn't have gotten where he was without picking up certain instincts, and those instincts were yelling
DANGER!
at the top of their hypothetical lungs. Scanning up and down the street for costumes, PRT vans, or even Atropos herself, he brought the metal to just under the surface of his skin. At a moment's notice, he'd be able to pop foot-long razor-sharp claws."Atropos?" he growled, metal clashing in his throat to give his voice extra menace.She stepped back away from him. "No, not Atropos." Her grin widened. "Tattletale."Tattletale—Undersiders—fucking BITCH!Far too late, he looked up.And that was when the two-ton dog landed on him.
<><>
TattletaleLisa knew damn well Hookwolf had killed a lot of people and injured many more, but she wasn't someone who enjoyed watching torture. Rachel had told her dogs to 'hurt', and that was what they were doing; growling, ripping, tearing, but not actually finishing the job. Between the three of them, they had him at their mercy, and Lisa knew it."Think he's had enough?" she asked the stocky girl beside her as Angelica tore off an arm made of metallic blades and threw it aside. "I'm pretty sure he's never had his ass kicked this thoroughly before.""He stood there and watched hundreds of dogs get maimed and killed, and laughed, and enjoyed it." Rachel's voice was matter-of-fact. "He needs to know what that's like.""You know, I'm pretty sure he does," chimed in Alec, who was watching from a little farther away. He'd offered his services for keeping Hookwolf from getting away, though in the end it hadn't been necessary. "Right now, you're just kicking him while he's down. That gets boring after a while."Lisa was pretty certain Alec wasn't saying it out of any mercy toward Hookwolf; he just wanted to get out of the city, as did she, and Rachel was their ride."Mmmh." Rachel nodded. "Okay." She whistled shrilly, and made a hand gesture. "Kill."The dogs … killed.
<><>
World Affairs ClassTaylorI sat watching Gladly writing on the board, fully aware of the Atropos costume currently stashed in my backpack. Nobody had tried to mess with my homework all week, which was good; it meant I didn't have to run any Paths to murder someone inside the school, or even maim them. My Path to End Skidmark's career and the influence of the Merchants drifted in the back of my mind, along with incipient Paths to deal with the various threats that were still out there.More than I'd expected, really. It seemed a lot of people had been invested in Brockton Bay remaining a crime-riddled shithole. Well, that was just their bad luck."Hey, Taylor!" whispered Greg from beside me. "Guess what I saw on the news just now?"I frowned. There were many things that could interest Greg on the news, and I was pretty sure a lot of them wouldn't grab me. On the other hand, absent the constant pressure of the bullying, Greg's cluelessness wasn't so hard to tolerate. "I have no idea. What?""Hookwolf's dead." He looked like he couldn't quite believe it himself. "They say Hellhound's dogs tore him to pieces this morning."Well, that explained why Hookwolf had so suddenly dropped off my radar. I'd known he was going to cease to be a threat, but I'd actually chalked it up to getting cold feet once he saw Lung's demise. "Well, that's different. Another one bites the dust, I guess?""Damn right." He looked unexpectedly fierce for a moment. "One of Mom's friends is black. He got cut up by Hookwolf once. He lived, but he's never been the same since. I'd like to give Hellhound a high-five.""Eh, she'd probably punch you." While considering how to End Coil, I'd looked into trying a Path to Ending the criminal activity of the Undersiders by recruiting them as minions, but Hellhound (or Bitch, as she preferred) needed way too many steps to keep happy, so I'd dropped the idea. Grue was in the Wards program now anyway, which I didn't have a problem with.Though I found it interesting that a tentative Path to ending the PRT's distrust of me had suddenly snapped into focus when Aisha asked for the selfie and I agreed to meet her. It seemed her brother Brian—the self-same Grue, now rebranded as Tenebrae—was being sent along as a chaperone. Not as a Ward, just as a big brother. It seemed that if I could hang and chill with them for a bit, and Brian could bring back a favourable report, they'd be able to dial back the perceived threat level. After all, if the heroes didn't try to kill me, I wasn't going to kill them.This wouldn't be the whole of the Path, of course, but it would be a very good beginning.Also, unless I missed my guess, this would boost Tenebrae's standing among his fellow Wards to near-legendary status. Not that I cared one way or the other, but he seemed to be doing his best for his sister, and I could respect the hell out of that.Though I wasn't quite sure why this part of the Path required that I bring along a quarter in my pocket. But I didn't question it. If it wanted me to bring a quarter, I'd bring a quarter.Mr Gladly started enthusiastically explaining what he'd written on the board, and I began to pay attention once more.
<><>
That AfternoonThe bus stop was absolutely in a crappy section of town. That didn't matter; I wouldn't be there long. I stepped off the bus, ignoring the dubious look on the driver's face, and headed down the nearest dark alley.There were two guys sleeping in it; or rather, one guy sleeping and one dozing. The not so sleepy guy woke up and attempted to grab me. I chose not to kill him, but unfortunately for him, you have to kick someone very hard indeed in the testicles before it's life-threatening.(It
is
possible to kill someone by kicking them in the groin; I just chose not to do it this time.)By the time I left the other end of the alley, I was wearing my full Atropos costume; mainly because that had slightly more chance of causing people to leave me alone than traipsing around as Taylor Hebert. While I knew exactly where I was going—Squealer's current workshop—I didn't know where it
was, because my power was the one reading the map. Fortunately, I was able to just let my footsteps take their own path and sure enough, I was there within minutes. An abandoned-looking garage, looming over other dilapidated, decrepit buildings.Acting on a suggestion from my power, I pulled aside a sheet of galvanised iron that had been artistically leaned up against a wall of the garage, to reveal a keypad mounted roughly on the wall. I zoned out, allowing my power to type in the security code; my eyebrows rose when it turned out to be an eight-digit PIN. It turned out Squealer was invested in her security.Not invested enough, sadly. She would've been a lot more secure if she'd had her setup elsewhere. Like, say, Jersey City. In the same city as me, it would never be secure enough.
She
would never be secure enough.With the entry of the last digit, a door let into the wall clicked and swung open slightly. I grinned;
open sesame.
Shoving the sheet of metal back over the pad, I went over to the door and carefully pushed it open farther.It wasn't trapped; or rather, the traps had been disarmed. I stepped inside, allowing it to swing shut behind me. The garage was deserted and dark; no tools clanged, no arc-welders shot sparks into the air. That this was a place where such things happened, I had no doubt. The signs, even the smells, of recent engineering work were plentiful. And in the middle of it all … what I was looking for.Ironically, it looked less like a total travesty of mechanical engineering than most of Squealer's work. Only a few odd-looking antennae and armatures marred the brutal lines of the oversized truck; even the makeshift armour welded onto the chassis was almost aerodynamic. But that didn't matter to me at all.I was no Tinker, but a constant truism was that the more complicated a mechanism, the easier it was to make it fail in a truly spectacular way. The bench held the tools I needed, along with the electronic bits and pieces. While the truck door was locked, I knew I wouldn't even need the Screwdriver of Opening; Squealer had left me plenty of ways to get into her pride and joy undetected.It took me about thirty seconds to jigger the heavily armoured, securely locked door, swing it open and climb into the cab. From there on, it was essentially painting by the numbers. The first bit of sabotage involved popping off a panel on the dash and wiring in a remote receiver; I then glued the fuck out of that panel because I didn't want Squealer getting in there for
any
reason.The second bit of sabotage involved components that she'd installed but never set up for activation. This was kind of a pity, so I made sure they would activate
when
I wanted them to,
how
I wanted them to. Next, I fiddled with the pedal linkages, making sure that when Squealer tried to make a certain thing happen, a certain
other
thing would happen instead.With the truck locked again, I spent some little time first with her angle-grinder then her oxy-acetylene torch (making use of her welding goggles), making sure that forty-eight specific pieces of metal wouldn't be anywhere near as secure as they appeared. By the time I'd finished, the air inside the garage was nice and toasty, which was perfect for my requirements. Almost as an afterthought, I stole one of her cans of spray-paint, a nice cheery yellow in colour.I slipped out of her workshop and closed the door behind me, then reached in under the sheet of metal to press the button that reset the traps inside. She was definitely going to find out about my various bits of sabotage, but according to
my
timetable, not
hers.Humming a tune that had the
Mission Impossible
theme as one of its remote ancestors, I changed back to boring, normal Taylor Hebert and headed back toward the bus stop. Dad would be getting home in good time, and I wanted to have dinner started when he did.One of the things I truly appreciated about my power was how it had allowed me to take charge of my own life and be more proactive about things. My renewed connection with Dad was a direct result of this, and I couldn't have been happier about it.
<><>
Dockworkers AssociationHead of Hiring OfficeDannyKurt leaned in through the office door, holding a cold can of beer. "Hey, Danny. Get your nose away from that grindstone. Five o'clock, time to relax and kick back."Danny blinked, then looked at the office clock. "Shit, it is too." He looked at the next document he'd been about to peruse, grimaced, and dropped it back into the IN tray. It would keep until Monday. Standing up, he stretched, feeling vertebrae popping in his back. "Time to get home."Rolling his eyes, Kurt waved the can enticingly. "Jeez, man, come on. Have one with us before you hit the road. You've been working like a madman all week as it is."Danny hesitated. "I don't like leaving Taylor home alone too long. She'll worry if I'm late …"That drew a snort from his long-time friend. "You just got through telling us how she's been doing so much better this week. And besides, she's a teenager. Knowing how to use a phone, even that relic you guys have nailed to the wall of your kitchen, is part of their genetics. If she gets worried, she'll call. C'mon into the break room and have a brewski with us.""Okay,
fine." Kurt made some good points, and the beer in his hand was looking better and better all the time. Besides, it was Friday afternoon. Danny rounded the desk and snagged the beer from Kurt's hand on the way past.They convened in the break room, sitting around the ancient table that predated everyone there, even Danny. Someone had once made a joke about how George Hebert, his father, had salvaged it off Noah's Ark, and Danny figured that probably wasn't far off the truth. The once-pristine veneer was almost worn clean off it, and there were more scratches, ancient cigarette burns (the DWA had been non-smoking for years now) and initials carved into the surface than he could count.Cracking the can open, Danny took a long pull of the beer. It tasted heavenly as it went down, and he felt himself palpably relaxing. Stretching out his legs under the table, he leaned back. "Yeah," he said. "This was a good idea. Thanks for twisting my arm, Kurt.""Hey, what are friends for?" Kurt saluted him with his own beer before taking a drink himself. "Oh, yeah. That's the stuff."Lacey, Alex and Gerry each mimicked the move, and the next few moments were filled with pleasant, silent contemplation. Danny took another drink of his beer, not so deeply this time. He wanted it to last."So, hey," Lacey said thoughtfully. "What do you guys reckon about this new cape? Atropos?""Scary as fuck," Gerry replied immediately. "I know a guy who knows a guy who said that what she used on Lung was some kind of super-acid, a billion times as bad as sulphuric. The name started with 'fluoro' or something."Danny blinked. He'd heard about stuff like that, as part of briefings on things no Dockworker would ever be authorised to come near, let alone handle. Any substance with 'fluoro' as part of the name was generally to be avoided like the plague. From what he'd heard, the plague would be friendlier."Jesus Christ," muttered Kurt. "No
wonder
he went down so hard.""But that's what you'd need, for a cape like Lung," Alex argued. "He fuckin' fought
Leviathan, mano a mano.
Name one other cape in the Bay who's done that."There was a moment of silence to acknowledge the truth of his statement, then Lacey took up the thread once more. "But that was before he came here and built up the ABB. He could've been a hero. He could've gone and fought Endbringers again. He didn't. He stayed here in Brockton Bay, dealt drugs, ran prostitution rings, murdered people, extorted protection, and generally acted like a total piece of shit. You ask me, Atropos was one hundred percent justified in what she did.""But she bloody well
murdered
him," protested Gerry. "Somehow injected that super-acid shit
inside
him, then watched him die.""What, burned him to death, like his victims? The ones he didn't rip apart like a wild animal?" Alex, Danny recalled belatedly, had lost a police officer friend to the Asian crime lord. "She gave him fair warning. After Oni Lee, Coil, and Kaiser, the writing was on the wall.""He's got a point, you know," Kurt said semi-apologetically to Gerry. "Lung was a stain on the city, and Atropos gave him fair warning.""Just like she gave Coil and Kaiser, I guess," Danny found himself saying. "Not Oni Lee, though."Lacey rolled her eyes. "That
asshole? I'm pretty sure he killed more people than Lung. He was supposed to be nearly unkillable. If you thought you had the drop on him, he was right behind you.""Yeah." Alex chuckled, finishing his beer and reaching for a new one out of the bar fridge. "But Atropos was one step ahead of him. Pow, bullet to the head. Wham bam, thank you, scary ma'am."Kurt opened another beer as well. "Oni Lee didn't get a warning," he said thoughtfully. "That's because Oni Lee
was
a warning. A warning that Atropos wasn't going to play by the rules that everyone else thought were set in stone.""Yeah," agreed Lacey. "The bad guys liked the rules just how they were. Even after Oni Lee bit it, they thought they were untouchable.""But if she could kill them, she could've captured them," protested Gerry. "Handed them over to the PRT. Fair trial and all that jazz."Danny shook his head, not actually disagreeing with Gerry's point but aware of where he was going wrong. "You
know
what happens when high-end villains end up in custody, especially if they've got gangs at their beck and call. It might take a few days or even a week, but they're always busted out. The last Brockton Bay villains to actually make it to the Birdcage were …" He paused, thinking back."Marquis and Galvanate," supplied Kurt. "Marquis never had any capes under him, and Galvanate's underlings got their powers
from
him, so they weren't able to break him loose.""And now Atropos is supplying a one-way trip to the morgue instead." Alex shrugged. "Let's see 'em bust out of that.""I can't believe you guys are being so callous about all this." Gerry shook his head. "They might've been villains, but they were still human beings.""Really
shitty
human beings." Lacey peered into her can and finished it off. "Might I remind you that they've all killed innocents, sometimes quite brutally. Kaiser and Lung ran gangs that were frankly racist as fuck. I dunno what Coil's deal was, but he had to be pretty damn bad to make Atropos' list. And Skidmark … well, the Merchants are barely a gang, but they supply drugs to half of the Bay, and that includes to schoolkids. So, he's pretty damn certain got some deaths on his account too. If he doesn't take the hint … well, at midnight tonight we get a new obituary and not one single solitary thing of value will be lost."Danny drained the last of his own beer and tossed it overhand into the trash can. It caromed off the rim then went in anyway, and he stretched. He knew he should be moving along, but the conversation was oddly intriguing. "You sound like you approve of what she's doing," he said to Lacey."Why wouldn't I?" Lacey gave him a hard stare. "She's taking out the trash, and it's well past time it was done. Don't try to tell me you don't agree with me, Danny Hebert. I know you better than that.""That's not what I'm talking about." Danny shook his head, trying to muster his argument. "This has happened before. Not in the Bay, but in Boston. Remember that? The Games?""I heard a
bit
about it …" Alex said dubiously."Shit," Kurt muttered. "Yeah, that got bad.""Bad isn't the half of it," Gerry agreed. "People died. Innocents. Some villains. And in the end, nothing changed. Villains went right back to running the underworld. Hail to the new boss, same as the old boss. You want to see that in the Bay?"Lacey shook her head. "We won't see that in the Bay."Danny tilted his head, curious. "Why not?"She chuckled darkly. "Because Atropos isn't just doing this for shits and giggles. She's about ten moves ahead of the PRT, playing four-dimensional chess, and they still think they're playing Go Fish. You know that reference she made about skinning a cat? I asked some people I know about that.""Yeah?" asked Alex. "What was
that about?""The sword she stabbed through Kaiser's eye
belonged
to him, is what I heard," she explained. "It was called a
katzbalger, which is apparently a slang German term with several meanings, one of which is 'cat skinner'. She stole it from his house, two days before she killed him with it. And I heard a rumour that she mixed up that hell-brew she killed Lung with in the basement of the Medhall building, the same night she made Kaiser's head into a shish kebab.""So, what's this got to do with new villains coming to the Bay?" asked Gerry. "Maybe villains who aren't willing to accept that the Dockworkers are neutral?"Lacey rolled her eyes. "Four nights, four extremely precise and well-thought-out kills, of people you and I would normally consider beyond assassination. If any other costumed idiots come to Brockton Bay, she's gonna warn them off, then she's gonna kill them. Tell me I'm wrong."Silence fell, broken only by the ticking of the clock on the wall. Danny glanced at Kurt, who hooked his head toward Lacey and nodded;
yeah, not going to argue with that.
Alex seemed to be contemplating the far wall in a semi-trance; Danny wasn't sure how many beers the younger man had had."They …
might
kill her," argued Gerry, but Danny could hear the doubt in his voice."She walked into a room full of Empire Eighty-Eight, ended Kaiser with his own sword, and scared the rest so badly they left town," Lacey said flatly. "If any villains come to the Bay looking to carve out a chunk of the action, they'd better not start any long conversations, is all I'm saying.""Talking about long conversations," Danny said, standing up, "it's time I bowed out of this one. Thanks for the beer and the chat. See you all on Monday."Amid multiple goodbyes, he made his way out the door and got in the car. For a moment he sat quietly, then turned the ignition key.Lacey's comments hadn't actually come as much of a surprise to him, but they were definitely something to think about on the way home.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
PRT ENE, Conference Room ALater That AfternoonDirector PiggotEmily let her eyes rake over the room, reading the atmosphere in a sweep. Only PRT, Protectorate and Wards were present; she'd declined New Wave assistance this time around. Some of the people in the room were tense and some apprehensive, while Assault was doing a good impression of having dozed off. She cleared her throat theatrically; as expected, Battery elbowed him lightly in the ribs."Last night," Emily began deliberately, "was a shit show." She paused for a beat, then shook her head. "Correction; it
would
have been a shit show by any other metric, but for the fact that every single one of you obeyed orders, carried out your duties to the best of your ability, and there were no friendly casualties."She stopped talking and looked around the room again. Her words seemed to have had the desired effect; after the faux chewing out, the praise was coming across twice as welcome. This was good; the last thing she wanted was a bunch of troops and capes who were unwilling to put in the effort because they didn't think it was worth it."Lung is dead, it's true," she said. "The Dragonslayers, as well. But that's not down to us. We didn't kill any of them. They died because they were stupid." She paused to allow a brief wave of chuckles to run its course. "We couldn't have stopped the Dragonslayers from attacking Lung, and attempting to save them from him would almost certainly have resulted in them still dead, and some of our own dead or injured. The forces we had available to engage him would
not
have been sufficient to force a retreat, and in any case I would not have ordered Aegis or Glory Girl to take on Lung. It might seem callous, but I am not prepared to sacrifice our younger and brighter heroes to save a couple of idiots in power armour. Neither was I prepared to send any of you against Atropos, just because Lung was too arrogant to leave town when warned."Assault lifted two fingers in lieu of raising his hand. She gave him a nod of acknowledgement."Pretty sure taking Lung on wouldn't have done any good anyway," he said. "According to Atropos' post on PHO, they were there for her, and she decoyed them onto him. They came to the Bay to kill her, which meant they were gonna die no matter what. It seems to be her style.""That
is
what my analysts have decided, yes," she confirmed. "I put in a query to Watchdog, to see what their Thinkers could figure out about her. It didn't go well. Two of their capes reported 'Vantablack' and 'infinity squared' as indicators for the danger level of directly engaging her, while a third one went into fetal position, mumbling about eyes in the darkness. That precog has now taken to wearing a tinfoil hat and refuses to even acknowledge the fact that Atropos exists."The last trace of the previous humour was now gone from the room. Watchdog's reputation was not the best, unsurprisingly so as its predictions were usually so arcane or obscure that little real use could be made of them. Such an unequivocal series of statements left little to the imagination, and conveyed Emily's point to her captive audience.
Don't be stupid when it comes to Atropos."Now," she said. "As anyone with eyes can probably see by now, Atropos is warning the villains off not only with her words but with her methods. Coil had his throat cut
twice
with the same weapon. Kaiser had a sword shoved all the way through his head. Lung died to a type of acid I still have trouble believing wasn't created by some demented Tinker. Each time she kills her target, she uses a more extreme method. If Skidmark had the common sense God gave a stunned gerbil, he would be out of town by now, and he may well be." She frowned. "But because that would actually make my life
easier, I'm going to assume he isn't. Any questions so far?"Aegis raised his hand. "I just want to verify that we're still on the same rules of engagement with Atropos."Emily nodded. "You're only to engage her in the case that she poses a clear and present threat to the life or well-being of an innocent or a teammate," she confirmed. "Considering the way she killed Lung, I believe this is more imperative than ever. I do
not
intend to lose anyone to her just because they thought they could pull off a high-profile capture. On the other hand, we can still save Skidmark by taking him into custody, and I fully intend to make that happen if at all possible."This time it was Kid Win who raised a hand. "We looked all over where the Merchants usually hang out, but we didn't spot Skidmark once last night, not even after the thing started with Lung. It's like he dug a hole and pulled it in after himself.""Frightened rats have a habit of doing things like that," she agreed. "Tonight, we've got one target instead of two. The Wards will be carrying out patrols in other parts of the city, while the Protectorate capes will be scouring known hideouts and haunts for Skidmark, with PRT backup and support. If you find him, you subdue and arrest him. Let me be brutally honest; we should've done this long ago, but we allowed ourselves to be distracted by other matters. This won't be 'protective custody'. It will be arrest, pure and simple. Followed by charging with multiple crimes and then being held for trial.""One more question." Assault had two fingers up again. "If we spot Skidmark at the same time as Atropos does, and it looks like she's going to get to him before we do, are we expected to face off against her to save someone like
him?"Emily leaned forward, fully aware that the recording for this meeting was audio only. She was also aware that every word she spoke on the topic would be scrutinized to a fare-thee-well by armchair generals, long after the fact."Yes," she said, shaking her head firmly from side to side. "Yes, you are." She paused. "Does anyone not understand? Raise your hand if you need further clarification."Every hand stayed down.
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A Little LaterTenebraeBrian raised his hand and knocked on Director Piggot's door, then waited."Enter!" she called from within.Opening the door, he stepped inside, closing it carefully behind him. "Tenebrae reporting as ordered, ma'am.""Mr Laborn," she said blandly, looking him over. "Unfortunately, I don't hear much from your side of things, so how are you getting along with the other Wards?"He noted her use of the word 'other', intended to convey that he was already a part of the team. "Reasonably well, ma'am. I don't necessarily have much in common with some of them, but everyone's giving me a fair shake. I'm getting a good vibe out of it. Vista's already met Aisha, and they're getting along frighteningly well.""Good, good." She clasped her hands together, giving the impression that she was now getting to the nitty-gritty of the matter. "Have you been following the news today?"The sudden change in topic caught him off balance. "Uh … no, ma'am. Has something important happened?""Not in the grand scheme of things, no. But there was a cape battle at about nine this morning, in one of the more run-down areas that the Empire Eighty-Eight used to control." Her concentration on him redoubled. "All the evidence points toward Hookwolf being attacked and killed by your ex-teammate, Hellhound. Rachel Lindt."By the time he absorbed what that meant, it was already too late to look shocked, so he didn't. Instead, he told the simple truth. "Unfortunately, that doesn't surprise me.""I'm going to need you to explain that." There was no mistaking the command as a request.He took a deep breath. "Hookwolf was just stubborn enough to stick around and see if Atropos could really kill Lung. And Rachel … Rachel hated Hookwolf with a passion. Definitely enough to kill him. See, he used to preside over dogfights, which left dozens of dogs dead or mutilated. Rachel's power makes her empathise very strongly with dogs. I've known her to yell at people for carrying their dogs everywhere or putting stupid sweaters on them. If she was leaving town, and knew Hookwolf was still here … yeah, I can see her going out of her way to kill him before she left.""I see." She rubbed her lower lip with her thumbnail. "Is she likely to take this anger out on anyone else? Are we going to see a wave of random citizens killed by monster dogs because she thinks they deserve it?"Hoping he was right, he shook his head. "I don't really think so, no. Hookwolf was the main offender in all this. Now that he's dead, Tattletale will be telling her to get out of town, and she listens to Tattletale … sometimes.""I see." She paused for another long moment. "One more question, regarding the upcoming meeting with Atropos."Right on cue, a chill ran down his back. "Yes, ma'am?""You're fully aware of your role in this, yes?" Her gaze was intent again. "This may have been set up by Deputy Director Renick, but I have no intention of allowing it to go wrong."He nodded. "To be Aisha's chaperone and big brother, and to get her out if she offends Atropos. Also, to observe and report on my impressions of Atropos.""Excellent. Now." She leaned forward slightly. "I understand you didn't volunteer for this. What are your feelings about simply being told that you're doing it?""Complicated." He took another deep breath. "I'm scared, of course. I've never killed anyone. Not really sure I could, if it came down to it. If Atropos could murder Lung and Kaiser so theatrically, to a
schedule, all the while manipulating the people around them like puppets on a string, I doubt I'd stand a chance against her. But …""But …?" She made a
go on
gesture."But … Aisha needs me to be there. And I'm not about to mess this up for her. Too many other people have treated her needs and wants like she's worthless. So, I'm going to be there for her.""A laudable goal." Her eyes didn't shift away from him. "Do you see any obstacles to you being in the Wards, going forward?""Not really." He knew that was a nothing answer, so he tried to elaborate. "Triumph already spoke to me and asked that exact question. He also informed me that as the Wards team leader, he was in the loop about me being an ex-villain; just as a heads-up, not as something to hold over me. I told him that so long as he was okay with my past, I was good with being in the Wards.""I'm glad to hear it." Brian would've bet a large amount of money right then that Triumph would soon be called into the Director's office, to hear the other side of that same conversation. "You'll be doubling up with Gallant on the console tonight, to nail down any problems you have with procedures there. Understood?"He nodded firmly. "Yes, ma'am. Understood.""Good. Dismissed."
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DannyPleasant odours wafted through the kitchen as Danny stirred the pasta dish Taylor had started before he got home. It was nearly ready; he figured another fifteen minutes to finish cooking, and another fifteen after that before they could eat. Definitely better than the mac & cheese they'd subsisted on far too many times when he was in his depressive moods."Dad?" Taylor leaned in through the doorway from the living room. She'd been doing her homework upstairs, and was even now holding an exercise book. "Can I ask you a question, or are you busy?""Not that busy," he said. Giving the pasta one last stir, he put the lid back on the pot and turned to face her. "I'm not sure how I'll be able to help with your homework, but feel free to ask anyway.""This is a Brockton Bay thing," she said, stepping all the way into the kitchen. "Mr Gladly wants us to do a report on the aftermath of the gangs. What's likely to stop happening now that Oni Lee and Lung are out of the picture, and what the remainder of the ABB's probably going to keep doing, stuff like that.""Wow, he's not pulling any punches, is he?" Danny asked, leaning against the table while he thought about the question. It wasn't a topic he would've thought a high school teacher would introduce. But then, he wouldn't have expected four major capes to be killed in a row, either.She rolled her eyes in typical teen fashion. "He likes to think he's avant-garde and ahead of the curve, whatever that means."That wasn't actually too far from the impression Danny had gotten during the one meeting he'd had with the man. "Well … the ABB has been doing the protection racket since forever, backed by Lung. I suspect that'll go by the wayside. Likewise, the drug trade is likely to at least walk itself back to levels sustainable by non-capes. Then there's the prostitution …" He grimaced."The ABB runs prostitutes?" Taylor looked surprised and troubled. "I never knew that."Danny hadn't wanted to go there, but Taylor was a bright kid and she would've put the pieces together eventually anyway. "The
rumour
is that the ABB grabs girls off the street in poor neighbourhoods, and they end up in the unlicensed brothels. I don't know how true this is, but I have heard stories about girls just vanishing.""Jesus." She shook her head. "Why don't the cops do anything? Or the PRT?"He shrugged. "Poor neighbourhoods. Most of the tenants have prior experience with law enforcement that isn't so great, and they don't trust the cops to listen. And to be fair, some cops are on the take, and others just plain don't care. As for the PRT, you've got to prove it was a cape crime before they can step in.""I thought we were better than that." Her hand, where she was holding the exercise book, had clenched so much that her knuckles had turned white. "Someone should
do
something."Lacey's words came back to him.
She's taking out the trash, and it's well past time it was done.
"Someone
is
doing something, remember?"She looked up at him. "So, you think Atropos is doing the right thing?"A hollow chuckle came to his lips. "Not necessarily the
right
thing, but … sometimes, all you've got are bad options. And if I'm being brutally honest, I'm not sure anything less would actually work for this city, right now." He fixed her with a stern gaze. "Don't quote me on that.""Wouldn't dream of it. Thanks, Dad!" She turned and headed back through the living room again."You're welcome." He wandered through into the living room himself and found the remote. Ten minutes of TV before it was time to start serving dinner sounded about right.
<><>
TaylorPath to Ending the influence of the ABB in Brockton Bay.Once Skidmark is dead, post on PHO and call them out for everything Dad said; the protection, the drugs, the kidnapping girls and the prostitution. That'll get their attention and put them on notice. And then if they come after me, or if they just ignore me and keep doing it …Taylor's musings were interrupted by a sudden flash of a vision. Her power had shown her things before, but never as clearly as this. It was an unused warehouse, she knew this instinctively. Arrayed on the floor, sprawled in death—she knew that too—were young women and even girls, some she was sure were younger than herself. Their throats had been cut, the blood allowed to pool together into one grotesque lake in which they were the islands. A gleaming pair of shears, the blades dulled with blood, lay nearby. Words, written on a nearby wall in the same blood, read: THEY OFFENDED ATROPOS. It was 'signed' with a rough outline of shears.The image she saw wasn't immediate, she knew that instinctively. It would come about after midnight, as a direct result of the message she intended to send. The perpetrators would be deliberately attempting to draw attention away from themselves and toward her.Such an act would entirely overturn the Path she was setting out on by meeting Aisha. No matter how she protested or proved she was elsewhere, and that she had no reason to murder them, the PRT would never begin to trust her. Whether they placed a Birdcage sentence or even a kill order on her, it would hamper further Paths to an unacceptable degree.In addition, they sought to dilute her brand, to put their mark on the name of Atropos, and that was unacceptable.
I
kill in the name of Atropos. Nobody else has my permission to do so.Deep down, she was aware that allowing the deaths of the girls would be wrong in another way altogether, but she didn't allow that to affect her conclusions. The would-be perpetrators were going to die anyway.
Nobody screws with my Paths.Another Path unfolded itself in her mind.
How to End that shit before it happens.
She smiled grimly.
Congratulations, dipshits. You just got my attention.
<><>
10:03 PMSquealerSherrel pulled aside the sheet of galvanised iron and tapped in the eight-digit passcode. When the door clicked open, she strode on into the garage, flicking just one light switch on the panel just inside the door; a ceiling flood came on, bathing the massive truck in light. "All aboard, assholes!" she proclaimed, hitting the remote fob that unlocked the armoured doors."Fuck you too," Skidmark said fondly, smacking her ass on the way past. "I'm not
an
asshole, I'm
the
asshole. 'Cause I supply the best shit in town."A joke like that was like a guy's dick, Sherrel decided. It would be much more appreciated if he didn't whip it out every chance he got. "Yeah, yeah," she said out loud. "If you're brewin' any farts, let 'em out now, 'cause we're gonna be locked in with each other for the next two hours an' change, an' I didn't sign up to drive no rolling Dutch oven.""One time," whined Mush. "One
fuckin' time." He pulled the truck door open and climbed up inside, then scrambled back into the nest he'd made up for himself."Once is enough for one of
your
farts," Sherrel sniped back, and climbed up into the cab while Skidmark went around to the passenger-side door."Hey," said Skidmark as he climbed in. "How come you gave me an ejector seat to sit in?"Sherrel shrugged. "I always build ejector seats. Sometimes I just don't rig 'em to eject. Yours is safe. It's not connected to shit.""Oh. Okay."Once they were all in and settled, she pressed the button to power up the oversized engine. All the dashboard lights came on, one after the other, until she was satisfied that the vehicle was in proper running order. Then she flipped up a cover and pressed a green button. Below the button was a label that promptly lit up:
CLOAKING FIELD ACTIVE."Time to hit the fuckin'
road,
bitches!" crowed Skidmark. "Put your head between your legs and kiss your nasty ass goodbye, 'cause we're going to
town."Sherrel pressed the button on the remote taped to the dash, and the large roller-door rumbled and squeaked and squealed upward until it was out of the way. Letting out the clutch a little, she idled the truck forward until it was clear of the garage, then hit the button again. As they pulled away onto the road, she could see in her rear-view camera that the garage door was rumbling downward again.The plan was simplicity itself: they would drive around Brockton Bay in the invisible, soundless armoured truck until well after midnight. Once Atropos admitted defeat in her nightly PHO post, they could head back to base. Fuck Atropos, and fuck every cape she'd already killed. They were smarter than
everyone.
<><>
11:30Lord StreetTaylorI pulled over in my 'borrowed' car and parked at the side of the road. Currently I was wearing all but the mask and hat; to any curious passer-by, I would have seemed to be a slightly more formally-dressed motorist than normal. I was happy to maintain that illusion for just a little while longer.Although I saw and heard nothing—Squealer's cloaking tech was sincerely bullshit—I knew exactly when the truck was about to pass by, at something over the speed limit. I knew where I could've gotten a rifle with armour-piercing rounds, to blind-snipe him through the window, but I'd chosen instead to go with the most horrifyingly spectacular kill I could manage under the time constraints. So, as it whipped by, I merely pressed the first remote button.Under the dash of the hurtling monstrosity, a timer was now counting down.14:5914:5814:5714:56
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11:45 PMArmsmasterColin changed down a gear and cruised around a corner, mindful of the PRT van trailing him at a discreet distance. The area he was in had long since been marked out for Merchant activity; the trick was determining what was old and what was fresh. As he was scanning the street ahead for movement, his radio earpiece crackled."Assault here. We've located what we figure is where Squealer's been working. Signs of fresh activity, last day or so. No sign of her, Skidmark or Mush. Tyre tracks of a large vehicle, in the ten-ton range, also not here. Over.""Armsmaster copies," Colin answered automatically. "Send me your location. I might be able to—"He broke off because the impossible had just happened. Just as he'd been slowing to take another turn, a large Tinker-built truck had
appeared
in the middle of the intersection, right in front of him. Trailing shreds of electricity, it went from totally invisible and silent to extremely present and thunderously loud as it boomed though the intersection and off down the street.Colin locked up the front and rear wheels on his bike and skidded to a halt, staring in the wake of the vehicle."Ah, Armsmaster, you're gonna have to repeat your last,"
Assault replied. "You cut out in the middle there, over.""Never mind," Colin snapped, jamming his bike into gear. "Everyone, home on my signal. I just spotted them. In pursuit. Armsmaster, out."As his bike left a long smoking trail of rubber in the haste of its acceleration, he locked his sensors onto the receding truck.You're not getting away this time.
<><>
SkidmarkThe meth in his pipe was the best quality, and Adam was enjoying his night to the fullest. Who gave a shit that some pretentious wannabe assassin was after his hot-shit ass? Nobody could get to him. Nobody and nothing. They didn't even know where he was. They couldn't see him."Run, run, run, as fast as you can," he slurred. "Can't catch me, 'cause you got shit for brains.""Fuck," muttered Squealer, peering at the rearview camera. "They can see us.""No, they can't," Adam said automatically. "Your cloaking thingy don't let them. We're 'visible and shit."Squealer glared at the green button and pressed it several times in a row. The little message about the cloaking field never changed. She then tried to wedge her nails under a dashboard panel, which didn't budge. "Well, we've got three PRT vans and a chopper, plus Armsmaster and Velocity, all trying to climb up our exhaust pipe. I think they can
fucking
see us.""Oh. Shit." Adrenaline flushed through his system, prodding him toward a semblance of sobriety. "Want me to do anything?""I'll let you know," she said tensely. "In the meantime, strap the fuck in."Muttering to himself, he started fumbling with the five-point straps. What was the point of a cloaking field, he wanted to know, if it didn't cloak?
<><>
11:59 PMTaylorHumming to myself, I finished using the yellow spray paint to mark out a large rectangle in the middle of the road, then placed the can itself right on the edge of the rectangle. As I heard the sound of a distant engine, I knew it was nearly showtime; reaching into my pocket, I took out the second remote and held it in my left hand. Then I stepped back until I was about three yards back from the rectangle, and waited.It didn't take long.
<><>
ArmsmasterColin gritted his teeth and tried again to ease up alongside the oversized truck, but Squealer was just too good a driver. All she had to do was dance her multi-ton vehicle sideways a few feet, and he'd be kissing asphalt. Letting off on the throttle, he backed off again."Console, this is Birdseye One, I have eyes on Atropos. She's about four hundred yards ahead, standing in the middle of the road, over.""Shit," muttered Colin. He activated a HUD window and got an image from the chopper's cameras. Sure enough, there she was, standing foursquare just on the other side of a large yellow rectangle that had been painted on the road. Her long-coat blew sideways in a dramatic fashion as she raised her right hand, index and middle fingers pointed gun-fashion.This is what she did with Kaiser.There was a roar of exhaust from the massive truck as Squealer evidently decided to accelerate and run Atropos down. Colin had a feeling in the back of his mind that this was a) precisely what Atropos had expected them to do, and b) a very bad idea.On the transmitted image, just as the timestamp ticked over to midnight, Atropos' hand kicked up, as though she'd fired an imaginary pistol. At the very same instant, visible on another image, the top of the truck cab burst open and Skidmark blasted out, riding an ejection seat ...... which promptly flipped over
forward,
rocketing downward at an angle until it hit the roadway directly ahead of the speeding truck. With Skidmark
under
it.The truck had a low front bumper. This caught the upturned ejection seat and forced it down onto the road as the truck kept going. Unfortunately, the seat was not constructed of the best materials, which meant that first it and then its contents—that is, Skidmark—were ground
off
onto the asphalt.Squealer had to have realised this immediately, as the engine note changed and Colin heard the brakes come on. Then they came off again, and the engine roared once more. Off again. On again. Off again. On again.When the truck finally came to an agonizing halt right in the middle of the yellow rectangle—from the way it stopped, Squealer had yanked something vital from under the dash—it was far too late for the boss of the Merchants. To put it bluntly, he had been smeared over more than two hundred yards of roadway.Colin stopped his bike and climbed off. Just as he went to walk past the length of the truck, Atropos herself appeared at the front and raised her hand in a 'stop' gesture. He paused just for half a second, wondering what her intent was. Then he heard a slight metallic creaking; a moment later, with multiple
pings
and
clangs, every single lug-nut broke away from the truck, and all six wheels came off at once.The entire chassis hit the asphalt with an almighty
crash, and the wheels rolled in all directions.When he looked again, she was gone.
<><>
An ABB Safe HouseJohnny Quan had always known the ABB were the 'bad' guys—good guys didn't extort money or services with menace—but he hadn't considered them to be the
bad
bad guys. He'd joined under coercion, and he'd done what he was told, mainly because he didn't want to be shot or stabbed or burned to death. But now, Oni Lee was dead, and Lung was dead, and many of the previous upper echelon were quietly filtering away.Which Johnny thought was a good idea, but his colleagues seemed to have other priorities in mind. Specifically, the girls working under them in the unlicensed brothels. Minding them was a job Johnny had been doing for some time, and as he didn't consider himself a
bad
guy, he tried not to be an asshole with them. It was just a job, nothing personal. No need to make it any harder on them."So why don't we just, you know, go?" asked Johnny. "Once the girls realise we're gone, they can get out. They've got families to go back to." He really wasn't looking forward to facing the angry parents of any of the girls, which was why he was pushing to just leave."Can't do that," said Pham. "They know our faces. They talk to the cops, give our descriptions, we're fucked, see?""Well, it's not like we can take them
with
us." They had two cars. The girls wouldn't fit, not with all the luggage that was also going."No." Ken Tanaka was a big guy. "We gotta wait until we know if this Atropos bitch is gonna keep coming at the ABB. If she is, we gotta bail. And we can't leave them to tell the cops about us."The penny finally dropped. "Kill
them?" He shook his head. He hadn't signed up for this shit. "They'll get us for murder one. That's worse than just minding the girls.""Nah. They won't. I been thinking about this, see?" Pham produced a large pair of shears. "We off 'em with these. Cut their throats. Put a message on the wall, 'They have offended Atropos' or some shit like that, see? Cops'll eat it up. They'll be all over the
known murderer
and we just walk. Free and easy, see?""Yeah, I see. And I'm not going to let you do it." Johnny reached for the gun in his waistband, but Ken grabbed his arms and held them behind him. "Hey, let me go!""Don't think so." Pham waved the shears in front of Johnny's eyes. "We can practice on you, see?""You first." The voice, that of a teenage girl, came from across the room. Johnny and the other two looked around, to see a dark-clad figure. She was also holding a pair of shears, but hers looked a whole heap deadlier."The fuck?" Ken stared, then his brain apparently caught up with his eyes. "Fuck, it's
her!"He let go Johnny's arms as Pham dropped the shears and scrabbled for the pistol he had tucked into his own waistband. But Atropos moved faster than either one of them. All Johnny saw was skeins of light reflecting off the shears as she crossed the room and slashed, then turned and slashed again. By the time he heard the double thump on the ground, he was huddled over in a kneeling position with his arms doubled over his head.He heard footsteps moving across the floor, then they stopped beside him. The urge to piss himself was almost unbearable. Cloth whispered as she leaned down next to him. Her voice was a murmur next to his ear."Do better."He stayed there for the next fifteen minutes, then peeked around cautiously. She was gone, only the cooling bodies of Pham and Ken showing that she'd ever been there.Somehow, he knew that for the rest of his life, whenever he closed his eyes, he would hear those two words.
<><>
DannyHe was asleep when the sound of the twanging side-gate reached his ears and folded itself into his dreams, making him stir and roll over. When the back door opened, then closed with a definitive
thump,
the noise insinuated itself past his dream state and into his subconscious, where it ticked over a red flag.
Someone is in the house.Then the basement door opened and closed. He opened his eyes, just barely, not even sure why, and that was when he heard the footsteps. Crossing the living room and climbing the stairs.Jarred fully awake by the realisation that the slow, steady boot-steps were not in his imagination, nor part of any dream, he sat up in bed. Grabbing the first thing that came to hand, a heavy flashlight, he crossed the room as quietly as he could. Then he wrenched the door open and clicked the flashlight on, shining it into the face of the intruder—"Hi, Dad," said Taylor. She was wearing a familiar costume, carrying a broad-brimmed hat in one hand and a cloth mask in the other. "Looks like you caught me."Her straightforward, matter-of-fact tone disarmed him; there was no attempt at denial or concealment of the truth. "Taylor?" he asked, still not sure if this was a dream or not. "You're
Atropos?""Well, if I'm not, I'm for damn sure wearing her costume," Taylor confirmed with a breezy grin. "I'd say it's a long story, but it's really not. I've been taking steps to clean up Brockton Bay, the only way that'll stick."This was rapidly becoming too much to deal with in his barely-awake state. "But … you're my
daughter."It was almost like a conjuring trick. The morph mask went on, then the hat over the top. A menacing stranger stood there, terrifying in the circle of illumination cast by the flashlight. A stranger who spoke with Taylor's voice. "And I'm also Atropos."Just as fast, she removed them again, and grinned at him. "It's me, Dad. Really."He felt he should protest, but not quite how. "You're … you're
killing
people."She nodded, then shrugged. "You were right, this afternoon. This is all that'll work for this city, right now."It was unfair, he felt, to use his own words back at him. "Can we talk about this in the morning?"She gave him a flashing grin. "Absolutely. Night, Dad.""Night, Taylor." He turned and went back into his room.I have absolutely no idea how to handle this.
<><>
TaylorAs Dad's door closed, I went along to my room and got out of my costume. I hadn't sweated all that much, but I grabbed my pyjamas and trotted along the hallway to the bathroom for a shower anyway. As I turned my face to the spray and mentally composed the PHO post I'd be putting up in a few minutes, I smiled.Path to End the need to lie to Dad about this: complete.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
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♦ Topic: Four Down, Many More to Come
In: Boards ► Brockton Bay ► New Capes ► Atropos
Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me)Posted On Jan 8th 2011:Greetings once more to you wonderful people of Brockton Bay!I don't even have to be ironic about saying that. Over the past week, I've killed five supervillains, which has in turn caused seventeen other villains to leave town for good. The average 'wonderful' aspect has definitely gone up a notch or two. (I've also done some other stuff, which has had its own beneficial effect, but we'll get to that later).So, let's recap. All photos and footage (involuntarily) supplied by the PRT. Thanks, guys!On Monday evening, I demonstrated to Oni Lee how proper gun handling was essential to a long and healthy life (mine).[image: mask with bullethole]Tuesday midnight was Coil's turn. He was always a two-faced asshole, so I cut his throat twice, once for each face.[image: coroner pic]Wednesday midnight, I stuck a katzbalger (rough translation: cat skinner) through Kaiser's head, and scattered the Empire Eighty-Eight far and wide.[image: splitting headache]Thursday just before midnight, the Dragonslayers came gunning for me. 'Somehow' their HUDs mistook Lung for me, and the Dragonslayers were slain by a dragon.Oh, the irony.Then Lung got to learn what it was like to burn to death, because irony cuts both ways.[image: acid reflux]And finally, just a little while ago, Skidmark became a real skidmark, along Lord Street.[footage: Skidmark being yeeted][image: skidmark]I understand they're mopping him up with a squeegee and bucket. Careful of that contact high, guys.Now see, people might be upset with me for killing those guys, but the truth of the matter is that everything after Oni Lee happened because people don't pay attention. I warned everyone exactly what was going to happen. They thought they were untouchable.Nobody's untouchable.So, this is what's going to happen from here on in. Life is going to go on. The Undersiders are no more, and I'm going to give Faultline a little extra time to pick up her business and move it elsewhere, because while I do want her gone, she doesn't usually operate inside Brockton Bay so I've chosen to cut her some slack. As for the rest of the Brockton Bay criminal element, Imma leave them to the BBPD and PRT. They're probably unhappy because they've been left out of the action so far. You go, boys. I have faith in you.On that note, there's still some corruption and incompetence within the ranks of the BBPD and the PRT ENE. You know who you are, and some of you know who they are. You get one chance to straighten yourselves and your buddies out before I come have a chat. You don't want that.Just by the way: Uber and Leet, don't go anywhere just yet. I need to have a word with you.One very specific note: the drug trade inside Brockton Bay *is* coming to an end, by word of me. I *will* find and destroy every last trace of hard drugs within this city, along with anyone who tries to stop me. Marijuana, coffee, booze and nicotine, I don't give a shit about. Anything harder than that will be gone. So will those who keep dealing it, after one warning.Oh, and anyone who's thinking about doing copycat crimes or framing me for a kill, understand this. I have no problem with killing, but I take brand dilution *very* seriously, and I *will* murder the fuck out of anyone for even attempting it. Just ask the three ... well, two ... okay, one ABB guy whose idiot buddies were gonna kill some girls to cover their tracks. He was the smart one, and tried to stop them. Now they're dead and he's alive, and that's the way it should be.And finally, the others. You know who you are. Those outside organizations and individuals who have suddenly realized that the criminal underworld in Brockton Bay just became a vacuum. You're all eyeing this city off like a bunch of hyenas closing in on a zebra with a broken leg.I have one word for you:Don't.If you come to this city intending to start shit, you will die.If you come to this city intending to kill me and then start shit, you will die *really horribly*.If you come to this city intending to gather information, you will get your ass kicked then handed over to the PRT or the cops (depending on whether or not you're a cape).If you send underlings into this city under the mistaken impression that this makes you safe from my retribution, you won't get them back *and* I'll tap you on the shoulder when you least expect it.Yes, Valefor, that means you too. Don't make me come over there.(Note that this also applies to anyone who tries shipping drugs or guns or any other kind of contraband into or through Brockton Bay. I *can* travel, I *will* find you, and I *will* murder you in a hilariously appropriate way.)Specifically, everyone from the following list is banned from Brockton Bay on general principles (unless I make a personal exception):
Elite
Fallen
Teeth
Adepts
Blasto
Lost Garden
Damsel of Distress
Accord (& Ambassadors)
Cauldron (you know what you did)
Anyone else I add to the list later.
Anyone who even *suspects* I might not want them in my town.
You will note that this list does not include the Slaughterhouse Nine. That's because I'm going to kill them tomorrow.Don't say I never did anything for you guys.Anyways, you lovely people have a wonderful weekend, and I'll see you Monday. Or not.Toodles!
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►Bagrat
(Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)Replied On Jan 8th 2011:Oh, holy Christ. Where do I begin.I attended the site where Skidmark died.I've seen traffic accidents before. There are those where you have to laugh out loud at how stupid they are, those where you have to scratch your head and wonder exactly how that happened, the ones where you go 'ewww' at the sheer amount of damage, the ones where you have to turn away for a moment because of the tragedy … and the ones where you throw up.I threw up.Even Assault wasn't making inappropriate jokes (well, okay, one or two, but he gave up after nobody even groaned). It was just sheer visceral horror (and yes, that's part of what they're still scrubbing off two hundred yards of Lord Street).Look, I'm just going to come out and say it. Atropos told us she would kill Skidmark if he didn't give himself up or get out of town. She made Lung's death so horrific nobody thought she could top it.She topped it.Skidmark is now a literal skidmark.There, I said it.On to slightly better news.Squealer and Mush survived, the latter with a concussion because he wasn't strapped in when the vehicle stopped. Both are in custody, mainly due to the fact that Atropos didn't just kill Skidmark. She also killed the vehicle. Sometime before midnight, she gained access to Squealer's workshop and worked on the wheel studs (the things that lug nuts screw on to) with an angle-grinder and an oxy-torch to weaken them so that all forty-eight studs broke off at the same time (Armsmaster witnessed this personally), about five seconds after the vehicle came to a complete stop. All the wheels just fell off, and the vehicle ceased being a vehicle at that point.Squealer was found still holding the steering wheel. It had come off in her hands at some point, but we're fairly sure that was just shoddy construction.To further underline the sheer bullshit that is Atropos, she stole a can of yellow spray paint from Squealer's workshop (it was later matched up with other cans Squealer had in stock). She drew a rectangle on the road before the vehicle ever got there, and it stopped *precisely* inside that rectangle. She also drew six little x's on the road and sidewalk; when the wheels finished rolling around, each one landed on top of its own x. And finally, she left the can itself on the edge of the rectangle. When the wheels came off, the bumper landed on the can, crushing it flat and spraying everything around with yellow paint.I don't even know what her rating is right now, but it needs to be upgraded.Everyone on her list: stay the fuck away. I cannot emphasize this strongly enough. I don't *want* to see what she does to you. (Though … Cauldron? What the fuck is up with that?)If anyone else said they were going to take out the Nine, I'd be dubious. Haha, nope. I'm going to stand way back over here and award points for style.I suppose we should be glad that her attitude toward the PRT seems to be exasperated tolerance. It could be a whole fucking lot worse.As for me, I think I need therapy. There is no way in hell I'm ever going to be able to unsee that.If anyone wants me, I'll be in the shower, huddled in a fetal position.
►TheRealGloryGirl
(Verified Cape) (Cape Daughter) (New Wave Member) (Temp Banned)Replied On Jan 8th 2011:What? Come on now!She flat-out murdered Skidmark, just like she murdered Lung, right in front of you guys, and you let her walk away AGAIN?What part of "murder is a crime" are we having trouble with, here?If you murder a murderer, the number of murderers doesn't change.Yes, things need to be fixed, but NOT LIKE THIS!Since when did the PRT become the Atropos Cheer Squad?ARREST her already!
►TeamMom
(Senior Moderator)Replied On Jan 8th 2011:@TheRealGloryGirl - do not poke Atropos. Just ... don't. Have a temp ban while you think about how stupid that was.@Atropos - Please don't kill her. Idiot teenagers are idiots.
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me)Replied On Jan 8th 2011:Oh, I had no intention of it. Everyone's entitled to their opinion, no matter how misguided. Personally, I think she's just butt-hurt because I've done more to fix crime in Brockton Bay in one week than she's done in three years.See you around, GG.
►TheRealPanacea
(Verified Cape) (Cape Daughter) (New Wave Member)Replied On Jan 8th 2011:Vicky just broke her keyboard. She's going to be impossible to live with now. Atropos, I hope you're proud of yourself.
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me)Replied On Jan 8th 2011:*adds 'one keyboard' to kill list**whistles nonchalantly*
►Reave
(Verified PRT Agent)Replied On Jan 8th 2011:The PRT would like to verify the statement about the two ABB persons who Atropos has claimed as kills. We were called to an address in what used to be their territory, and found two males who had been killed the same way as Coil, and one unharmed (though traumatized) male. His statement gave Atropos the kills, and indicated that they had been about to murder him for refusing to go along with their plan to kill a number of their prostitutes and blame Atropos for it, to cover their tracks when leaving town.@Atropos - I would like to reiterate our offer for you to cease working at cross purposes with the PRT, and come in to see us face-to-face. We can work something out, I'm sure. DM me.
►UnconcernedFoxReplied On Jan 8th 2011:*reads opening post. Puts in a new order to the popcorn company. Just back the truck up and leave it there*
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me)Replied On Jan 8th 2011:@Reave - while that's a truly sweet offer, I'm gonna have to say no. First, because there are still people inside that building who sincerely wish me harm, and it might get awkward if/when I have to kill them. Second, if you hadn't noticed, I'm currently doing okay on my own. Third, the only person who gets to say whether or not I kill someone is me. If I come in, someone (*cough*Armsmaster*cough*) might get the mistaken impression that I have to follow their orders, and I hate to see a grown man cry.I'd say it's not you, it's me ... but it's totally you.
►Chaos_RevenantReplied On Jan 8th 2011:Hollllyyyy shit that was brutal!Is it okay to say I love it?What does that say about my state of mind?
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►TeamMom
(Senior Moderator)Replied On Jan 8th 2011:*sigh* Yes, you're allowed to say that. Just don't make suggestions. She might follow them.
►SilentWhispersReplied On Jan 8th 2011:Those idiots thought framing *Atropos* was a good plan? I'm not even in the city anymore and I wouldn't try that.
►Al'TaReplied On Jan 8th 2011:Literally a Skidmark...Love it!
►OmegaGrezReplied On Jan 8th 2011:God damn, this puts a smile on my face like the news never does.
►VirgerlReplied On Jan 8th 2011:I'm a little confused. Did Skidmark accidentally trigger the ejection seat at the wrong moment? How did Atropos manage to do that with a finger-gun?
►Reave
(Verified PRT Agent)Replied On Jan 8th 2011:Analysis of the vehicle after the fact revealed that remote triggers had been installed to a) turn off the cloaking after a timer ran down, and b) to activate Skidmark's ejection seat. Why did he have a working ejection seat? We may never know.
►XxVoid_CowboyxXReplied On Jan 8th 2011:Finally! I haven't been able to stay up this late before, but my mom said it was okay because it's not a school night.@Atropos - I've got an important question to ask you. Do you solve other murders? Because, you know, you've got a unique insight into the mind of a killer. Anyway, a girl at my school was murdered on Monday, and the cops have got nothing, and there's a whisper that capes were involved, but the PRT's not telling us shit. So, um, if you could help, that would be great. If you don't work for free, I guess I could empty my savings account or something.
►Miss Mercury
(Protectorate Employee)Replied On Jan 8th 2011:Void, you idiot.
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me)Replied On Jan 8th 2011:Hmm... let me consult my crystal ball ... I'm getting something ...The victim's initials were ... S H ... or maybe S S ...She was ... athletic ... vindictive … arrogant ... violent ... a total asshole ... could never take a hint ...Yes, now I see it ... the killer is coming into plain view ... I have a face and a name ...Oh, wait. It was me.Ta-da! Mystery solved! (Put your money away, I did that one for free).As for why … well, as I just said, she could never take a hint. She was given a clear warning, and chose to ignore it.You've seen how that works out.
►VirgerlReplied On Jan 8th 2011:wut
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►XxVoid_CowboyxXReplied On Jan 8th 2011:But ... why would you do a thing like that? She was just a kid!
►Reave
(Verified PRT Agent)Replied On Jan 8th 2011:@XxVoid_CowboyxX - Shut up.
►TeamMom
(Senior Moderator)Replied On Jan 8th 2011:@XxVoid_CowboyxX - have a temp ban while you think about the inadvisability of arguing with someone of Atropos' capability.
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me)Replied On Jan 8th 2011:No, it's fine. He doesn't need to be banned for that.Void, there are things about the matter you're not aware of. Specifically ... ahh, fuck it. Her family's in protective custody and the Empire's on the way out anyway, so I'll just say it. She was a cape. Worse, she was a cape who liked to pretend to be a hero while taking pleasure in hurting people who she thought couldn't fight back.I fought back.She was also the type to never admit that she was in the wrong, or that she could be beaten. If I'd just kicked her around then let her get back up, she would've kept coming until she got some kind of win, no matter how petty or spiteful.I wasn't down for that, so I killed her. Problem solved.She got warned twice, she ignored it twice. She died of stupid.Just like Coil, Kaiser, Lung and Skidmark.I don't play.
►GreatAndTerribleAishaReplied On Jan 8th 2011:Damn right you don't, sister! Holy fuck, the mess you made of Skiddy! Could you do that to my mom's dealer, too?
►TeamMom
(Senior Moderator)Replied On Jan 8th 2011:*sigh*@GreatAndTerribleAisha - please do not encourage acts of violence on here. This is your first and last warning.
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me)Replied On Jan 8th 2011:Not precisely, but he might object when I take his stash away from him. No promises, but there might be broken bones involved.
►GreatAndTerribleAishaReplied On Jan 8th 2011:Good!Also, my annoying older brother has invited himself along. I promise to make sure he doesn't say or do anything stupid. Hope that's all good?
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me)Replied On Jan 8th 2011:Sure, sounds like fun. I'm looking forward to it.
►BrickFrogReplied On Jan 8th 2011:What even is this.
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►CrazyAndyReplied On Jan 8th 2011:It's a new day for Brockton Bay, that's what it is.With the gang leaders gone, what's next? I mean, the Nine, sure, but after that? Global problems? Hey, Atropos, do you intend to show up and fight the Endbringers when they attack?
►IjusetReplied On Jan 8th 2011:Much as I'm in favor of the gangs being defanged, I'm going to have to take issue with that kind of sweeping statement. Yes, the gangs will be losing a lot of their power with their cape leaders gone. But they weren't really the cause of Brockton Bay's economic downturn, so much as they were a symptom of it. Which means that removing them won't automatically usher in a golden age for the city. A year from now, we'll still be stuck where we are today, unless someone does something to dig us out of this hole.
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish)
(UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me)Replied On Jan 8th 2011:@CrazyAndy - Fight, no. I don't fight. Kill, yes.@Ijuset - You raise some valid points. Fortunately, I can end more than just people. I'll get right on that.
►UnconcernedFoxReplied On Jan 8th 2011:*sits forward, ignoring a mouthful of popcorn*
►SilentWhispersReplied On Jan 8th 2011:Did … did you just say you can kill Endbringers?
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish)
(UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me)Replied On Jan 8th 2011:What part of 'Can Actually Kill Anything' were you unsure about? If it can die, I can kill it, and yes, Endbringers can absolutely die.
►IjusetReplied On Jan 8th 2011:Wait, you're saying you can kill *economic problems*, too? How does that even work?
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me)Replied On Jan 8th 2011:The same way I kill everything else. I bring the right weapon to the fight. (Duh)
►Al'TaReplied On Jan 8th 2011:Okay, I'll bite. How do you stab a depressed economy to death?
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me)Replied On Jan 8th 2011:You don't. You stab the things that are holding it down. With money. Lots and lots of money. *After* killing off the people who have a vested interest in keeping it depressed.You *did* see the part about how I'm going to be killing off the Slaughterhouse Nine tomorrow, right? I'm not doing that just for shits and giggles, you know.Though I have to admit, I would've gotten around to them eventually, even if there was no reward for doing the deed. Jack Slash is just so damn tacky. He gives serial killers a bad name.
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<><>
Very Early Saturday Morning
Director Piggot
Ignoring the aches and pains, and the feeling of sandpaper under her eyelids, Emily stared at the screen. The sheer
gall
implicit in the challenge to the various gangs which might threaten Brockton Bay left her shaken and breathless. Either Atropos was the most stupidly arrogant, self-assured cape Emily had ever encountered—and she'd met a few, in her time—or
she could actually pull it off.
In all honesty, Emily wasn't certain which was the scarier possibility.
Her phone began to ring. Glancing at it, she saw that it was Armsmaster calling. She acknowledged the call and put it on speaker, then went back to scrolling down the screen.
"You're reading PHO too?" she asked rhetorically.
"Yes, ma'am."
He sounded almost as shaken as she felt.
"Your views on her statements?" She decided against pointing out the implication that he'd cry if Atropos refused his orders. It was neither the time nor the place.
"On the one hand, nobody's ever pulled off what she's claiming to be able to do."
His tone was cautious.
"But?" That there was a 'but' involved, she was utterly convinced. She even had most of an idea what form it would take.
"But nobody ever did what she's already managed to do, either."
Mentally, she paid off on the bet she'd made with herself. "Do you think she can manage it?"
Even now, he didn't want to commit himself.
"I'd feel a lot more secure about it if she was sharing her plans and accepting resources from us … and doing less killing, of course."
In other words, if Atropos was under his orders. "She seems to think otherwise."
It wasn't that she was on Atropos' side … exactly. The law was the law, and she was oath-bound to uphold it as best she could. But …
… Atropos
had
made a bold statement, and carried it off without a hitch, working around the interference posed by the PRT as if they hadn't even been there. And some small part of her had silently approved of the sights of Kaiser and the others dead, after all the death and devastation they'd caused.
"The Nine are a lot more dangerous than even Lung was. She's likely to need assistance, even if she doesn't know it herself."
Emily pursed her lips in a frown. Armsmaster had a touch of the glory-hound in him. She'd long since seen and recognised it for what it was. For the most part, it didn't hamper his heroic endeavours, but if he kept pushing for this, it might end up as a problem.
The very last thing she wanted was Atropos getting annoyed at Armsmaster. There was no doubt in her mind as to who would survive that particular encounter.
"You will stand down on that matter," she ordered him. "You will only supply assistance if she specifically requests it. Is that understood?"
His tone was audibly reluctant, even over the phone.
"Yes, ma'am."
"Good. Do you have any idea what she wants with Uber and Leet?"
"None whatsoever. They haven't even weighed into the thread yet."
"Hmm. Okay. Was there anything else?"
"No, ma'am."
"Understood." She cut the call, and went back to reading through the PHO comments.
And she was the one who took out Shadow Stalker, after all. Well, fuck.
Right now, that was the least of her problems.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Relevant Side Story(fleshed out a little for the actual narrative)Danny"Morning, Dad." Taylor said as he sat down to the table. The plate of bacon and eggs she put down in front of wafted odours only slightly more enticing than those drifting up from the freshly brewed cup of coffee. And right now, he absolutely needed that coffee.Danny made a non-committal grunt before taking a sip from the mug. His eyes opened wide as the extra-strength caffeine bulldozed through his taste-buds before opening a direct line to his hindbrain and announcing that all hands were needed on deck
right now. Even as he sat bolt upright, he detected a faint hint of salt in there, which just sealed the deal."Taylor," he enquired just a little plaintively, "when did you learn to make
Navy
coffee?"She shrugged slightly, and he thought he caught the hint of a mischievous grin. "I figured you'd want something a little stronger than usual after last night."He looked at the cup warily, then took another sip. It was still as powerful as ever, and he could feel his groggy neurons waking up and sparking to life. "I'm worried that it might
dissolve the mug. You didn't just poison me did you? I heard about that super acid you used on Lung." Not the best morning joke he'd ever mustered, but he was still waking up."No, Dad." Taylor said with a perfectly straight face as she sat down with her own breakfast.
Tough room.
"I'm guessing you have some questions?"Questions, yeah. Boy, did he have some questions.
How did this all happen
was at the top of the list, but after a couple of moments sipping coffee—god
damn,
but he'd missed a good cup of joe this strong, first thing in the morning—he pushed it aside for another one that was worrying at him even more."I do." For a long moment, he hesitated while he debated exactly how to approach the topic. "That girl who died at school. Sophia. You killed her didn't you?" He wasn't quite sure if he wanted it to be true or not, given what he'd also figured out, but it was a good starting place.Taylor met his eyes. "Yes." Her tone wasn't boastful or regretful, just matter of fact.
Yes, I took out the trash.The confirmation led him onto the next question. He wasn't quite trying to excuse her actions, so much as find reasoning for them. Some way to frame them inside the larger context. "She, Emma and that other girl Madison. They did something horrible to you didn't they?" Given the absolute mess Emma had been in, Taylor had clearly done something to her as well, but as Emma was alive, that was definitely a secondary concern.Again, the direct, forthright answer. "Yes." No anger, no pain.
Yes, I stubbed my toe.Now was the big one, the sixty-four-million-dollar question. He suspected he knew the answer to this one, but he asked it anyway. "Would I have done the same? Killed her for what she did to you?"Taylor seemed to think that over, then shrugged. "Probably. They tried to kill me first after all. I did give Sophia plenty of warning though. She just wouldn't take the hint. Plus, it turned out she was Shadow Stalker, so I guess it's a good thing I killed her before she decided to do something even more stupid, like coming after you."Well,
that
was a thing. Danny blinked a couple of times, seeking to assimilate what he'd just heard. That this Sophia girl wasn't just some random bully, but a
cape
and an actual
Ward
… that was a body blow. It wasn't just that she'd been bullying Taylor with Emma's assistance, though that was bad enough. Neither did it help in the slightest that they'd done something that Taylor characterised as a murder attempt. And finally, Taylor's implication that Shadow Stalker would've gone after
him
if she couldn't beat Taylor … that was downright chilling.
Did she take out Shadow Stalker to save my life?Also, what the
fuck
is the PRT teaching those little shits?Taylor was still watching him patiently. He took a breath, and tried to order his thoughts. "Finding out that one of the people who had been tormenting you for over a year was a Ward makes me feel very conflicted." That was more or less the understatement of the century, but he suspected she knew what he meant. That she'd been forced to kill the girl, potentially to save his own life … he wasn't sure what to think about that.She shook her head, looking thoughtful. "I honestly don't think the PRT really knew what was going on with her. Just goes to show how little they actually do. I mean, I've had powers for less than a week and all the villains in town are either dead, gone or hiding under the biggest rock they can."He had to hand it to her. Good zingers took talent to deliver, and that one had been perfectly on target. Still, as much as he would've liked to dwell on how badly the PRT had screwed up—and they
had—there were other issues he needed to address, somewhat closer to home.Taking another sip of the coffee, still not sure how she'd managed to hit the exact balance of salt and sugar, he gave her a direct stare of his own. "You have managed to accrue a rather fearsome reputation very quickly, Taylor." By which he meant,
holy shit, you killed five supervillains in as many days.
But he figured understatement was probably the best idea there. Gibbering maniacally was probably not the ideal reaction, and might worry her.Now she raised one eyebrow slightly, looking just a little concerned. "You're not mad?"It was a good question. He felt maybe he should've been at least a little censorious about killing someone who was technically a superhero, but the whole 'to save my life' aspect kind of worked against that. Call him old-fashioned, but he didn't want to discourage her from keeping him alive.As for the others who had died, he figured they were only 'victims' in the broadest sense of the term. They had killed so many people and ruined so many lives that sooner or later they were going to die to
someone's
hand, be that another villain, a rival from within their own ranks, or a hero failing to pull their punch in time. Long story short, they had been the very furthest thing from peaceful innocents minding their own business. And as he'd reminded Gerry, it didn't matter how many times the big-name capes were arrested, they just busted out and kept right on committing crimes and hurting people.Not this damn time.He took a deep breath, committing himself. "On the one hand, you're a merciless killer. On the other, you're my daughter." And that was all there was to it. "I am wondering though, when you showed the detective your hands, they weren't bruised or anything. Is that part of your power?" He wouldn't have been in the least bit surprised. From everything he'd heard, powers were bullshit.She held up her hands, turning them one way and another. "Sort of, I'm not bulletproof or super strong or anything like that. I'm just the best there is at what I do." Folding her fist into a peculiar configuration, she feinted a punch that
blurred
through the air. Then, as if nothing untoward had happened, she went back to eating.He was reminded of a comic book character from his youth, but decided not to make a reference. For one thing, she probably wouldn't get it. For another, that character had had his butt handed to him more than once. Taylor was currently batting a thousand. As Lacey had put it, she was playing four-dimensional chess while the PRT was still trying to play Go Fish.Nodding in acknowledgement for the statement and the demonstration both, he gave her a querying look. "So... what now?"Now, she actually smiled broadly. "Today, I'm going to meet a fan. Curry some favor, so to speak, so Armsmaster and the rest of the Protectorate don't get any silly ideas. It's not like they don't know what I'm capable of, but some people just can't help but poke the bear."It probably wasn't a bad idea, at that, and if anyone could pull it off, it was Taylor. Though the idea of her having actual fans was kind of weird.On second thought, this was Brockton Bay. Also, Earth Bet.
Endbringers
had fans … so to speak. Someone who was actually taking down the gangs?
I shouldn't have been surprised.Of course, there was something he needed to say. "Please try not to kill anyone today, Taylor."She raised her eyebrows and gave him a direct look. "I won't make any promises, Dad. If somebody decides they really want a Darwin Award, well..."Which was a perfectly good point. He pitied the gangster who picked on his daughter today, or any other day for that matter. Especially if she was meeting with a fan and wanted to make a good impression."Would it help if I drove you there and back?" He regretted the offer almost as soon as he made it. She probably had her own plans, and jumping in with a half-assed suggestion might make her feel bad for refusing it.Instead, she gave him a beaming smile. "That would be really helpful, actually. There's no cars I can steal around the neighbourhood and get back without the owners noticing, at least during the day, so I was gonna take the bus or something. I could've
done
it, but it would've been awkward.""Stealing cars? Really?" He gave her his best raised-eyebrows Dad look. "I thought I raised you better than that, miss.""You totally did," she agreed. "Unfortunately, my power is ending things, not crossing the city in minutes. So I had to improvise. Which, by the way, is one of the several reasons I'm happy you know now. Because now I don't have to sneak out, and getting the occasional lift would also be helpful. It makes cleaning up the city so much easier.""And by 'cleaning up the city' you mean killing people?" He folded his arms. "Most of the villain capes are either dead, captured or gone. Is more killing really necessary?""Well, no." She gave him a cheery smile. "My power isn't just about killing things. It's about
ending
things. For instance, once I decided that I wanted to end the Brockton Bay drug trade, I became aware of the location of every single stash of illegal hard drugs in the city, and exactly how to destroy it. I don't have to kill anyone … well, unless they really want to force the issue. But I'll probably only have to break a few bones."He blinked. "Every stash. Everywhere.""All of it." Her tone of assurance was rock-solid."There's dealers from out of town supplying them …" he said uncertainly."And I know who they are, the routes, the vehicles and the times," she rattled off. "I can bring the incoming supply to a dead stop. I can tip off the cops to upcoming raids on pharmacies to grab prescription drugs. And I'm going to end the corruption and incompetence within the BBPD and PRT that's allowing all this to go on.""And you can do all this without killing anyone?" He found that hard to believe.She snorted. "Hardly. Sooner or later, someone's going to try the hard way rather than the easy way. When I fight, I don't fight nice or fair. My power guides me into strikes or shots that
will
be lethal unless I pull the punch. But these idiots would otherwise
just keep on doing what they're doing.
Hurting other people for profit.
Killing
other people for profit. So, if I put a few of them down for good, the rest learn the lesson. But I won't be going out there with the aim to kill everyone who opposes me. That's just sloppy. Also, tedious."Her delivery was straightforward and logical; almost against his will, he found himself agreeing with her. Still, there were other questions he needed to ask. "What if the cops show up and try to arrest you?"She shook her head. "It won't be an issue. I can literally dodge bullets. I'd probably handcuff them to each other and steal their badges or something, then mail them back to the precinct for fun.""Heroes, then," he pressed. "They're harder to take down non-lethally than cops. Are you going to kill them?" He hated to ask the question, but she
had
been killing capes fairly frequently over the last few days. Villain capes, but still capes."Like Shadow Stalker, you mean?" She rolled her eyes with a snort. "She wasn't a hero. But if one does show up who decides to defy the PRT's current hands-off order on me, I'll know not only that they're coming, but also how to get past their defences and take them down long enough to vanish.""… the PRT's got a hands-off order on you?" He stared at her. "How did you manage that? Are you somehow blackmailing the Director?""Nope." She shrugged. "Somewhere between Kaiser and Lung, they decided all on their own that it was a bad idea to try to engage me face to face. Not entirely certain whether it's because they're terrified of me, or if they just want to see who I take down next, or whether it's a bit of column A and a bit of column B.""To be honest, I wouldn't be surprised whichever way they jumped," he admitted. "So, this 'going to meet a fan' thing. What were you planning on doing? Wow the tourists on the Boardwalk?""No, actually." She shrugged. "She was going to meet me at the Westlake Park and hang out for a bit. Take a few selfies, stuff like that. Big crowds can get complicated, and I don't want anyone getting hurt unnecessarily.""Selfies, huh?" A memory stirred, and he raised a finger. "Wait one moment.""Okay." She took a drink of her juice and applied herself to her bacon and eggs as he got up and headed through the living room to the entrance hall.Upstairs in his room, he pulled out several drawers in his dresser before he finally located what he was looking for, the angular plastic case cool under his fingers. When he pressed the power button, the LEDs only glowed dimly, so he swapped out the batteries for fresh ones. Triumphantly, he bore his prize downstairs. "Here, you can use this."She stared at it. "Our old Polaroid camera. I thought that thing died years ago."Putting it on the table in front of her, he sat down again. "Nah, I just put it away one year and never took it out again." That was the year Annette had died, but neither one of them wanted to mention it. "Anyway, you can get a photo of yourselves, then sign it for her. It's fully loaded, which means you've got eight shots."Taking up the camera, she sighted through the viewfinder. "Wow, thanks. She'll love this."Leaning back in his chair, he basked in the knowledge that he'd gotten it right this time. "Hey, what are dads for?"He was entirely unprepared for her to get up and come around the table to give him a hug.Some days, he decided as he returned the hug, being a parent was just plain
worth
it.
<><>
LeetThe avatar on the screen lurked in the alleyway, crossbow at the ready. The bad guys were somewhere nearby, but if he could get the jump on them …"Holy fuck! Get here now!"Rodney jumped, his thumb slipping on the buttons so that the avatar lunged forward into the open air, where it was hit by three attacks at once. "Oh,
come
on!" he complained as the damage bar quickly mounted. "What the fuck?""Get here right the fuck now," his best buddy insisted. "We're in the shit."Despite Rodney's best efforts, the onscreen character succumbed to the successful ambush, and he went into the death screen. "Fine," he mumbled, rolling his eyes. Discarding the controller, he got up and headed over to where Uber was reading through the PHO boards. "What happened? Did someone get Atropos?"It was the hottest thing that had happened on PHO for weeks. There were at least three discussion threads ongoing, apart from the ones she herself had started. After she took Oni Lee and Coil out, people started taking her seriously, though the 'vs' threads were still adamant that she wasn't all that great. Kaiser's death, followed by Lung's, had quietened some of her more vociferous opponents but raised some others to boiling point."No." Uber rolled aside so he could look at the screen properly. "She got Skidmark. Turned him into a meat crayon. But that's not the worst part.
This
is the worst part."Leaning in, Rodney began to read out loud to himself."So, this is what's going to happen from here on in. Life is going to go on
… yadda yadda …
give Faultline a little extra time to pick up her business and move it elsewhere
… shit, Faultline's moving? That sucks …
rest of the Brockton Bay criminal element, Imma leave them to the BBPD and PRT
… pfft, not on their best day …
I have faith in you
… I don't …
corruption and incompetence within the ranks of the BBPD
… damn right there is … wait." He stopped and stared at the next line. Though his throat had suddenly gone dry, he read it out anyway. "Just by the way: Uber and Leet, don't go anywhere just yet. I need to have a word with you."His eyes flicked over the next few lines and found nothing more, then he straightened up and stared at his buddy. "What … what does she mean she needs to have a word with us? What did you do? Did you shitpost her? What have I told you about shitposting capes who can probably find out where we live?""Me
shitposting capes?" demanded Uber. "I thought
you
were the one who'd shitposted them!""Well, it wasn't me this time!" Rodney yelled. "I haven't said word one to her!""So why does she want to talk to us?" Uber jabbed one finger at the screen. "Because that pretty damn definitely means we've done
something
to get on her radar!""I don't know!""Do you think she wants to kill us?"Rodney stopped and thought about that. They
were
villains, and she definitely killed villains. But ... "Her list!" he said suddenly. "We're not on her list!" A pause as he tried to think back. "... are we?"Uber rolled back into place and started flicking through the threads. "I don't think so ... no, we're not. This is the first mention of us."Rodney started feeling the first stirrings of relief. "And she told everyone she killed to get out of town or die. She's telling
us
to stay put. Whatever she wants, I don't think it's to kill us. I hope."Uber nodded slowly, apparently accepting his logic. "So what do you think she
does
want?""No fuckin' idea, dude." Rodney blinked, a horrifying concept occurring to him. "Shit, what if she wants me to make something for her
and it doesn't work?""Christ." Uber shook his head. "Don't go there, dude. Just don't."Rodney glanced at the door. "Maybe we should just make a bolt for it anyway? Like, right now?"Uber shook his head. "Bad idea.
Really
bad idea. She's got no problem with leaving town to deal with someone who's pissed her off. 'I
can
travel, I
will
find you ...'" He trailed off."Right. So we stay in town and hope she doesn't ask for anything we can't deliver." Rodney shivered. "I
told
you we should've left town when she killed Oni Lee.""No, you didn't.""Well, I
thought
it.""Uh huh. Sure."
<><>
PRT Building ENEConference Room AArmsmasterColin looked around the conference room. Every Protectorate hero was here, as were all the Wards; Gallant, Kid Win and Vista yawning and in street clothes with domino masks. This only made him wonder what emergency had made it necessary for them to show up on what was clearly their off-day. Balancing the heroes across the table were various high-ranking members of the PRT.One thing they all seemed to have in common, gauging from the surreptitious comments passed between them, was that nobody actually knew what this meeting was about. He began to wonder if Director Piggot had called it then fallen asleep before getting there. She'd been running herself ragged, trying to deal with the Atropos situation, and it was starting to show.The door opened and Deputy Director Renick entered. Crossing to the table, he took his position at the head but didn't bother sitting down."Good morning," he said crisply. "Thank you for attending this meeting. I won't keep you long. This is merely an informational update, to keep you all in the loop as to the investigation into the death of Shadow Stalker. This is a strictly confidential discussion, and it
will not
leave this room."Colin sat up straighter, wondering where this was going. He'd seen the PHO posting from Atropos, claiming responsibility, but he hadn't yet had the chance to start checking into it."Atropos got her ... didn't she?" That was Assault. "That's what she said on PHO." A murmur of voices agreed with him.Slowly, Renick shook his head. "Anyone can claim anything online, especially if they are seeking to double down on pre-existing notoriety. After consultation with Director Piggot, my conclusion is that the current theory of Othala granting Cricket an unrevealed Stranger or Changer power is more likely, and we will be holding to that one until further evidence comes to light."What?
Even though he'd been the one to originate that hypothesis, Colin had been entirely willing to dump it in favour of 'Atropos did it' as the more likely, and he couldn't figure out why Renick and Piggot were dismissing the girl's own confession. It made no sense at all."Sir, are you sure about that?" asked Battery. "She described Stalker's attitude pretty much to a T, you have to admit."Renick cleared his throat theatrically. "Battery, are you seriously suggesting that Atropos invaded Stalker's school and cornered her in a classroom, never having met her before, for the sole purpose of beating her to death? What kind of sense does that make?""No, but what if Atropos was a
student
there?" Triumph called out. Colin couldn't really fault him on that, as the same question had surely been on everyone else's lips. Since the PHO post, that had become more or less the default assumption. "One that Stalker was picking on, like she said?""I find that hard to believe." Renick should've been a star of stage or screen, from the way he delivered the line straight-faced. "I doubt very much any investigation would find even one student with a motive for harming Shadow Stalker at that school."That outrageous statement hung in the air for a long moment, the atmosphere charged with disbelief from everyone sitting around the table. And then, between one instant and the next, Colin got it. Anyone running such an investigation into students who might have had a motive to kill Shadow Stalker
risked outing Atropos.
From the murmurs around him, everyone else was getting the point as well.Given the events of the past week,
nobody
wanted to piss off the dark-clad assassin who could apparently stroll through the most strenuous of security and dance between the raindrops. She currently seemed to have no serious beef with the PRT, and everyone there
absolutely
wanted to keep it that way.Before making the post, there'd been the danger that the investigation of the students would connect Stalker's murder to one particular suspect, and thus in turn to her activities as Atropos. But by directly connecting herself to Stalker's murder, Atropos had killed the investigation deader than Stalker herself. In a sense, she was playing chicken with the PRT, and they had blinked first. It was a masterful move.It wouldn't make her
popular, but she'd definitely won that round.Battery nodded slowly. "I see your point, sir. The Empire angle makes much more sense.""Good," said Renick, affording her a paternal nod. "Once again, the topic of this meeting is not to be discussed outside of this room. Is that understood by everyone?"Colin leaned forward and surveyed the table, then nodded to Renick. "Yes, sir," he replied."Excellent." Renick clapped his hands together lightly, once. "Dismissed."As Colin got up and headed for the door, he mused that the truth would come out sooner or later. But by then, if Atropos had taken down the Slaughterhouse Nine in the meantime, nobody would
care.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Cauldron BaseContessaAlexandria's voice echoed down the corridors. "Oh, what the fuck?"Fortuna didn't even bother using a Path on that one.
She's read the PHO post.A moment later, Alexandria swooped to a halt in front of her. In her hand, gripped almost tightly enough to crack the casing, was a tablet. "What the
hell
is going on in Brockton Bay?""Atropos is a Thinker," Fortuna reminded her, somewhat unnecessarily. "At least as good as me."
That
confession cost her the pound of flesh closest to her heart, figuratively speaking. "It looks like she figured out our feudal experiment, and how we were giving Coil free rein in the city. At least. She might know more.""And she's killed Coil, and straight-up told us that we're not welcome in her city.
And
more people are delving into the name Cauldron than ever, because
we can't redact it!" In a cartoon, steam would've been leaking from Alexandria's ears by now."On the other hand," Fortuna pointed out, "she's announced that the Nine are next on her list, and she's flat-out announced that she intends to kill the Endbringers when and where they show up. Not fight.
Kill."Alexandria blinked. "Is she
insane? Challenging the Nine
as well as
the other teams on that list? Calling out Valefor by name? They'll be falling over each other to see who can tear her head off first.""It's only insanity if you can't pull it off." Fortuna waited to see if Alexandria would take the hint.The black-costumed woman frowned thoughtfully. "You believe she can? Without assistance?""Do you believe she
can't?" Fortuna raised an eyebrow. "Since she started her operations, a grand total of twenty-three capes have either died, left Brockton Bay, or been captured by the PRT. Several more are planning to leave as we speak."Alexandria shook her head. "It's a whole different level of scale. She can't possibly think she can take them all on, and win.""The last time I underestimated her, I ended up looking down the barrel of her pistol. The one she took from Oni Lee's corpse." Fortuna shuddered. "It's a mistake I don't intend to make a second time.""But Butcher and the Teeth … the Fallen …" Alexandria shook her head. "They can't be beaten. Not conventionally.""Whoever said Atropos was conventional?""Well,
you're
no help." Alexandria vanished again, flying up the corridor.Cookies,
Fortuna decided.
What I need is cookies.
"Doorway to where I can buy cookies."Cookies, she understood.
<><>
08:45 AMTaylorDressed in my costume, complete except for the coat, mask, and hat, I sat in the passenger seat and peered intently ahead through the windshield. Instead of the black long-coat, I wore the white lab-coat I'd souvenired from the PRT building that one time; my accoutrements were in the black leather bag I had slung over my shoulder."Westlake Park, coming up," Dad said, entirely unnecessarily. Like me, he was almost certainly suffering from nerves. "Do you want me to pull in and park?""No." I put my left hand on my seatbelt catch, my nerves melting away. "That corner up ahead, with the bushes up to the sidewalk? Slow down all the way, going around it.""Uh, okay." He gave me a dubious look, but started slowing for the corner.I popped the seatbelt and let it retract, then put my hand on the door handle. As we went into the corner, I pulled on the handle and pushed the door all the way open against the resistance of the turn. Then I slid out of the seat and stepped onto the asphalt, clearing the car by inches. The last of the turn swung the door shut and it latched closed as I continued up onto the sidewalk and onward into the bushes.Once out of sight, I shrugged out of the lab-coat and replaced it with the long-coat, then took my glasses off and replaced them with my mask and hat. With the lab-coat and glasses in the bag—now slung over my shoulder—I strode out of the bushes, on track to meet with my current number one fan.
<><>
TenebraeIf there was anything worse than Aisha when she was smugly certain about something, Brian decided, it was Aisha when she had the jitters. He was beginning to regret not insisting on danger pay. Much more of this, and he was going to go nuts."Where is she, where is she, where
is
she?" fretted Aisha, fidgeting so hard Brian was sure people in
Boston
knew she was twitchy. "She said she'd be here. She
said!""Relax," he said automatically, though he knew it would do no good. "Are you sure you both agreed on Westlake Park?""It was
her
idea," Aisha insisted, swinging her legs back and forth on the picnic table bench like a metronome on speed. "She said right here, nine o'clock."Brian automatically checked his watch. "You know it's still ten minutes of nine, right?""What?" she grabbed his wrist and stared at the clock face. "Can't be. Must be slow.""Nope. I set it to the time on my phone." He pulled out the phone to show her. The times matched, near enough."Here, let me check mine." She dug out her own phone. The time on it was fifteen minutes ahead of his. "See?"Brian shook his head. "Aisha ...
why
is your phone set up like that?"She regarded it dubiously for a moment, then her expression cleared. "So I can remind myself not to be late."He sighed in mild aggravation. "Okay. Just saying? That's probably not—""Excuse me?" The voice came from behind them. "Is this picnic table booked, or can anyone sit here?"Brian turned at the same time that Aisha did. Even as he opened his mouth to politely inform the newcomer that they were waiting on a friend, he registered who was standing there.Tall, slender, wearing a black long-coat, morph mask and hat. The coat flapped open gently in the gathering breeze, revealing a sheathed knife of some sort and a pistol in a shoulder holster. Brian felt his mouth go dry.Atropos had arrived.
<><>
Taylor"Holy shit!" blurted the teenaged girl. "You came!" Leaping up from her bench, she took two rapid paces toward me then stopped short. In a display of what was possibly the worse acting I had ever seen, she strove to put on an air of nonchalance. "I mean ... 'sup?""Hey, Aisha." I was grinning under the morph mask, which I knew they couldn't see, but it transferred to my tone of voice as I held out my hand to shake. "It's good to meet you, too."Grabbing it with both hands, she shook it vigorously. "Holy shit, it's really you." Her voice teetered close to fangirl-squee. "Did you really wreck all of Skidmark's shit? And make the wheels fall off Squealer's shitty-ass ride?"Holding up one finger, I reached into my pocket and produced one of the small remote transmitters I'd rigged up a few days ago. As she watched avidly, I made the finger-gun gesture, then clicked the button as I mimed shooting the 'gun'. Nothing else happened, of course. "Boom," I said cheerfully.Aisha's eyes were wide by now. "Holy crap," she breathed. "So when you did it there ...""This was in my left hand, yeah," I said, then looked at Brian. "Feel free to tell Armsmaster that. It's nothing he won't already know."He was already looking apprehensive; now, he went paler than anyone I'd ever seen with his skin tone. "Shit," he muttered, curls of darkness beginning to waft out of his palms. "This isn't—I'm not—""Jeez, relax," I said with a chuckle. "It's good that you're here. I know this isn't a sting or a bust. You're not here in any official capacity. Just to make sure Aisha's okay. I
get
it."The darkness went away and he lost some of the pallor, though there was a slight sheen of sweat on his brow after the fact. He stared at me, probably trying to make out my expression through the morph mask."Yeah, Brian, unclench," jeered Aisha, rolling her eyes extravagantly. "My girl Atropos is chill. She's not here to hurt us. Are you?""Not in the slightest," I confirmed. "And I'll go one further. I'm not going to hurt any member of the PRT, Protectorate or Wards, or any hero in town, unless they aggress on me first, and even then I promise not to kill them." Strolling around the table, I seated myself opposite them. "I don't promise not to embarrass the fuck out of them, though."Aisha cackled out loud. "See, Bri? This is why she's so damn cool." Hopping up from her seat, she grabbed up her phone as she rounded the table to me. "Get a photo of us, then I'll grab a selfie."Brian sighed. He still looked apprehensive, but not to the level that he looked like he was about to pass out. "I'm sorry, Atropos. Aisha's never really learned about personal boundaries, or that you're supposed to ask about that sort of thing first."I chuckled. "It's all good. If she bothers me, I'll just do this." Slipping one arm around her neck, I made sure not to apply dangerous levels of pressure to her carotids as I gave her a brief noogie."Wha—hey!" Her squawk of protest was cut off as I released her, then she glared at Brian, who was chuckling. "What's so funny, asshole?""Nothing. Nothing at all." He rubbed his finger across his lips. "Are you okay with me taking your photo, Atropos?""Sure, but wait one second." Reaching inside the long-coat, I drew out the bodice shears. They gleamed in the sunlight, the edges glittering dangerously."Whoa ..." breathed Aisha, staring at them. "Where did you get
those
from?""Kaiser's personal collection, about eight hours before I killed Coil with them." I snipped the air a couple of times. "Careful, the outer edges are sharp too."Reaching out, Aisha ran one finger over the detail on the handgrips, then trailed it cautiously down the blade. "That is the most motherfucking badass thing I've ever seen," she declared, "and I once saw Lung set fire to an eighteen-wheeler full of booze and ride it into the Bay.""When did you see that, and why were you close enough to see it?" asked Brian, suddenly intent.She crossed her eyes and stuck out her tongue at him. "Wouldn't
you
like to know?""Mmm." He gave her a medium-level stink-eye. "Let's leave this family discussion for later. Did you want to pose with those shears for the photo?""Yeah," I said, then opened them up behind Aisha's head so they stuck up like bunny-ears. Then, with my other hand, I made the 'live long and prosper' sign out of Star Trek. "Aisha?""Hang on." She threw the horns with both hands at once then nodded, grinning with her whole face. "Do it."The electronic shutter on Brian's phone clicked once, then he turned it the other way and took another pic. "Okay, more pictures?""Selfies!" Aisha picked up her phone.I put the shears away, then reached into my bag. "Sure, but then I've got a surprise for you.""Surprise?" Brian looked apprehensive again.I chuckled. "Don't worry. Nothing bad. Aisha's gonna love it to bits.""I am?" She looked at me like a kid finding an unexpected present under the Christmas tree. "What is it?""You'll see." I leaned in toward her. "Selfies, remember?""Right, right." It seemed the promise of a surprise had put her off her stride; it took three attempts to get the camera set up for the first one. But she managed it, and took a fairly credible picture with the park's small lake in the background, along with the two people who were feeding the ducks there.I knew who they were, of course, and what was about to happen.
<><>
PanaceaAmy hunched her shoulders into her hoodie and tossed a handful of oats onto the surface of the small lake. The few ducks that had chosen not to fly south, or got left behind, paddled over and started dipping their bills in the water, collecting the pieces. They didn't look thrilled, and she could sympathise with them."I don't even know why I'm here," she groused, glaring at her sister's back. Vicky had chosen to show up in costume, for some incomprehensible reason. "You're the one who got in the shit with the PRT, not me.""If by that you mean I'm the one who called out the PRT for their weak-sauce attitude toward Atropos, then sure," Vicky sniped back. "Aunt Sarah sent me to feed ducks here until I figured out where I'd gone wrong. She sent you along to make sure I didn't just go off and spend the day at Dean's or something.""So, go," Amy invited. "I honestly couldn't give a flying fuck." She was lying, of course. But that wasn't exactly something she could tell the truth about. Spending time with Vicky was always something she was down for, but when Vicky had her nose out of joint it was a lot less fun."I can't." Vicky threw a handful of oats at a bunch of ducks and scored a direct hit; they scattered, quacking in agitation. Once they'd settled down, they shook themselves to get the oats off their feathers and onto the water, where they scooped them up. "If Aunt Sarah asks you where we've been …""… I'll say we were here." Amy looked around aimlessly. There was a group of people at a picnic table some distance away. One was dressed oddly, all in black."You can't lie worth a damn." Vicky's tone held no censure. It was a fact of life. "She'll know, and then I'll be in trouble all over again.""So why did you even call them out?" asked Amy, peering across at the other group. "You had to know they'd complain to Aunt Sarah." The one in black was wearing a hat and a long coat, and either had close-cut hair or …Vicky threw some more oats to the ducks. "Because Mom's right, and all capes need to be held accountable for shit they do. And the PRT's all 'no, don't engage with Atropos because it might be dangerous'
but she's a fucking
murderer
and punching beats Thinking in combat. Nobody can think straight with a busted nose, and if the Thinker wants to talk, I'll bust their jaw as well.""She seems to be pretty good at what she does," ventured Amy. "Even not counting Oni Lee, she managed to fuck up four supervillains pretty good. None of them saw her coming, and she took them down by the numbers."Vicky rolled her eyes. "Because she had time to
prepare.
Also, she murdered Shadow Stalker. Admitted to it, right there. But what's the PRT saying about it? Nothing. 'Cannot comment on an ongoing investigation', my muscular gluteus maximus!"And that was the trouble with teaching Vicky something. Amy had explained various parts of the body to her sister once, and Vicky had latched on to the name of the ass muscle forever after. "Well, maybe they can't.""Pfft, I don't see why not. We're affiliate capes, right? But even Dean's all, 'sorry, not allowed to talk about it'.
If not to his own girlfriend, who?" Vicky froze, her gaze fixed on the picnic table. "Holy shit. Holy
shit. Ames, you see that?""Those people? What about them?" Amy knew damn well 'what about them'. But the chances of Atropos actually showing up at random in the same park she and Vicky had been sent to seemed minimal to zero. Also, there were two other people with the maybe-Atropos, and she hadn't had any associates that Amy had heard of."That's Atropos, I'd swear to it!" Vicky pointed. "I watched her fucking murder
Lung,
and I couldn't do a damn thing about it. Well, now it's different.""Vicky, wait a minute. Let's just take a—" But Vicky was gone, rocketing across the park, bag of oats dropped and spilling on the ground. The ducks, sensing a feast, waddled out of the water, quacking loudly."Fuck it. Enjoy." Amy dropped her bag next to Vicky's, and started running after her sister.
<><>
TenebraeBrian had no idea what was going on. Aisha was being her usual self, and Atropos was … playing along? Clowning around? For a terrifyingly effective assassin, she seemed intent on enjoying herself, even pulling out her own phone for a couple of selfies.It was
not
how he'd expected this to go.Then Atropos took the Polaroid camera out of her bag, and Brian grinned at the look of confusion on his sister's face. She peered at the admittedly odd-looking device, her head tilted to one side, for all the world like one of Rachel's dogs when it didn't understand a command."Okay," she said. "What the fuck is it supposed to do?""Prints out a physical photo," Atropos explained."You're
shitting
me.""She is not," Brian assured her. "Those things have been around for years. Longer than I've been alive.""Yeah, right," jeered Aisha. "That thing looks like a Tinker threw it together yesterday. Out of spare parts.""Oh, ye of little faith." Atropos' voice took on the quality that made Brian think she was smiling. "Come on, I'll set it up to take a timed photo." Placing it on the table, she pressed a button and stepped back until she was standing directly in front of it. "Both of you get in the frame with me," she urged. "We've got about eight seconds.""Oh, this I gotta see." Aisha crowded up on one side of Atropos, so Brian naturally moved in on the other side.If sitting back and watching his sister clown around with a terrifying cape assassin was deeply weird, he didn't even know what to feel about standing so close he was shoulder to shoulder with her. There was an air of palpable danger about her, or maybe that was just because he knew what she was capable of. And as for her personal combat capability, she moved like the best fighters he'd known, always perfectly in balance with her surroundings. Except where it came to Aisha; Aisha, she let inside her guard.The Polaroid camera beeped once, then twice more. He forced a smile onto his face, because he didn't want Aisha grumping at him for screwing up the photo.beep-beep-beep-beeee—"Down!" shouted Atropos; at the same time as he felt the shove, his leg was kicked out from under him so he went sprawling. Distantly, he heard Aisha yelp in protest, but all that was overshadowed an instant later when
something
swept over them and the picnic table dissolved in a shattering crash.He rolled over and did a kip-up to get to his feet, looking around to see
what
the fuck had just happened. Thankfully, Aisha was okay, sitting up with her hair falling across her eyes and an indignant expression on her face. The picnic table had been demolished, and Atropos was already standing, left hand extended as though she'd just caught the camera that was now in her hand. In her right, she held the photo.Some yards beyond the wreckage of the table was Glory Girl, just now slowing down and turning around. "Stand still!" she shouted."Nuh-uh," Atropos retorted flippantly. "Here, catch." She tossed the camera to Brian, then stood there waving the photo in the air."Glory Girl, stand down!" Brian called out as he automatically caught it. "This is a really bad idea!""It'll be a bad idea for you to get in my way." Glory Girl clenched her fists. "This is between me and Atropos.""Oh, for fuck's sake, why can't you just fuck off?" demanded Aisha. "We were having a perfectly fun day here, and you had to come in with your 'hurr durr me big hero' shit.""She's a
villain," Glory Girl explained slowly, as though to a child. "And a
murderer.
I'm a
hero.
Stopping people like her is what I do.""You're a humungous twatwaffle, is what you are," declared Aisha impudently. "She's
the hero. How many villains have you stopped this week? How many have you chased out of town
ever?"Brian wanted to facepalm. Not only was his sister arguing with Glory Girl, but insulting her as well. He didn't even want to know where she'd gotten 'twatwaffle' from. "Aisha …""Well, she
is!" Aisha actually sounded upset now. "Atropos is
cool! Because of her, there's barely any villains left in town!""And there'll be one less in just a second," promised Glory Girl. Brian felt waves of fear pulsing out from her. It was never any less real, even when he knew where it was coming from. She lunged forward, gathering speed in an obvious move to punch Atropos as a fly-by attack.Atropos barely seemed to move, but she swayed aside just far enough to avoid the attack. Moreover, her hand darted out; when Glory Girl came to a halt, she was no longer wearing the tiara. She didn't seem to realise it for a moment, until Atropos tossed the headgear to Aisha. "Here. Souvenir."Aisha seemed to be one of those people who reacted to fear with defiance. She caught the tiara out of the air and brandished it like a weapon. "Hah! Score!""What the fuck?" Glory Girl felt at her head. "Hey, give that back!""Go away and I'll think about it." Atropos' voice was steady. If she was feeling the same level of fear as Brian, she was a master at hiding it. Her hand went into her pocket, then came out with a shiny quarter. She flipped it in the air, then caught it without looking. "Right now, you're intruding.""I'll show
you
intruding!" shouted Glory Girl. As her voice rose to a shout, she lanced toward Atropos again.The quarter spun into the air once more as Atropos did a perfect limbo twist to avoid the charging attack. Glory Girl, for her part, choked and grabbed her throat, then crash-landed in an ungainly sprawl beyond the wreckage of the table.What the fuck? Did she just flip that coin into Glory Girl's mouth?Brian hurried over, but Atropos got there first. She dropped with one knee into Glory Girl's stomach; the stricken superhero let out a loud hacking cough, and the coin was expelled upward with some force. Atropos caught it out of the air, then dropped it into her pocket and drew the shears again."Hey," she said, and rapped Glory Girl on the forehead with the heavy blades. "Pay attention."Slowly, Glory Girl's eyes came back into focus, and she found herself with the tip of the shears an inch from her eye. "What … what the fuck?"Atropos hit her with them again, just hard enough to leave a bruise. "I said, pay attention. I know how to bring your power down. I know how to kill you. Do you understand?"
Clack, went the shears"Wha—will you stop fucking
doing
that!" Glory Girl began to reach for the blades, then froze as Atropos used the very tip of the shears to snip off one of her eyelashes."Yeah. It's inside your field. I can put it straight into your brain. It
will
kill you." Atropos' voice was implacable. "I can do this
at any time.
Do you understand?""I … yeah, I understand." The admission was wrung grudgingly out of her throat. "Do you want me to beg for my life? Is that it?""No." Atropos' voice never changed. She wasn't gloating or even admonishing Glory Girl; merely establishing a fact of life. "Next time, if someone tells you to back off … back the fuck off."Staggering footsteps and heavy panting heralded the arrival of someone Brian belatedly recognized as Panacea. "Please," she gasped. "Please … don't kill … her. Oh god … I need to do … more cardio.""Wasn't going to," Atropos said. "But your sister could've fucked up really badly just then. She could've hurt my friends here. So … a favour for a favour. I keep quiet about this, and you do something for me, later on. Deal?"Panacea blinked at her. "A … favour? What sort of … favour?"Atropos snorted and tapped Glory Girl's forehead with the shears again. "Nothing hugely illegal. Okay?""Do I have a choice?" The New Wave healer looked at where her sister was still staring at the shears."There's always a choice. Is that a yes?"Grudgingly, Panacea nodded. "Yes. You don't talk about this, I do you a favour later.""Awesome." Atropos sheathed the shears, then came to her feet and stepped back in a move so smooth Brian would've sworn it had to be rehearsed. "Sorry about the rough stuff, but some lessons need to have a point before people take them on."Aisha cackled out loud. "Well,
that
lesson certainly had a point!" She fitted the tiara on her head, sitting up at a jaunty angle.Cautiously, with one eye on Atropos, Glory Girl rose into the air. "I want that back. Right now.""Nope," said Atropos, before Aisha could even protest. "Call it an asshole tax. Take your sister and leave before anything else happens.""Yeah … let's just … go," panted Panacea. "Are you … okay?""She stole my tiara!" Glory Girl pointed at Aisha indignantly."No,
I
stole it and gave it to her," Atropos corrected her. "As I said, asshole tax. Now, fuck off before I decide to get creative.""Ooh, ooh,
get
creative!" Aisha urged. "I wanna see this!"Panacea shook her head. Making a wide berth around Brian and Atropos, she took Glory Girl by the arm. "Let's go home
now," she stated firmly. "Before this day goes even further off the rails.""But … my tiara …"Atropos shook her head. "Not yours anymore. Bye.""We've got spares," Panacea stated. "C'mon. Let's go."Reluctantly, Glory Girl picked up her sister and lofted into the air. Pausing, she looked back at Atropos. "This isn't over."Atropos pushed her hat back and made a come-at-me gesture. "Anytime."It almost seemed as though Glory Girl was going to take up the challenge, but Panacea punched her in the shoulder and muttered something about "any
more
favours". Turning, the brightly clad teen hero flew away, gaining altitude until they disappeared from view."Well,
that
was a thing." Atropos waved the photo—which she'd kept in her hand the whole time—in the air again, then looked at it. "Huh. Action shot."When Brian looked at it, the colours were still fading in, but it showed Glory Girl's face, charging at the camera, right at the moment when she'd realized her target was no longer in front of her, and that she was about to impact the table at speed. "Wow. Damn.""Lemme see, lemme see!" Aisha plucked the photo from his fingers. "Okay, that's amazing. The look on her face is classic. 'The moment when she knew she done fucked up.'.""It is pretty cool, yeah." Atropos retrieved the Polaroid camera from Brian. "Thanks. So, I'm thinking of taking a few selfies with this—signed, of course, for my favourite fan—and then … say, Brian, you brought a car, didn't you?"Brian nodded. "The PRT's letting me use a hire car to get around and take Aisha to appointments and stuff. Why?"He couldn't see the expression on her face, but he imagined it to be a calculating smile. "How would you like to help me put a
really severe
crimp in the Brockton Bay drug trade …?"Aisha's delighted whoop came as no surprise at all. His sister
hated
drugs. "Um … would you be needing me to do anything illegal? Because I'm not allowed to do that.""Nope." Atropos shook her head. "I just need transport from place to place, then you can wait outside while I do my thing. I'm not even going to kill anyone who doesn't try to kill me first."He glanced at Aisha. She nodded enthusiastically. "Say yes, Bri! Say
yes!"Deputy Director Renick didn't tell me what to do in this situation.Shit … um … keep her happy while not doing anything illegal?With a sensation of stepping onto a tight-rope over a bottomless pit, he nodded. "Uh … yes?"This time, he knew for a
fact
that she was smiling under the mask. "Excellent."This is going to make for one
hell
of an after-action report.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
AtroposBrian frowned as we neared the location I was giving him instructions to drive to. "That sounds kind of familiar …" he said slowly."Yeah, no, duh, it's familiar, bro." Aisha, in the back seat, was having great fun playing with her new tiara. Between that and the Polaroids of me holding the bodice shears up behind her head like bunny ears, I was pretty sure that this was her best day in a long time.Which was kind of sad, when I came to think about it that way."Wait." Having gotten the hint from his sister, Brian was putting two and two together. Impressively enough, he added it up to four all by himself. He turned and stared at me. "Are you taking us to Celia's place?""Otherwise known as the Hellbitch Drug Ho," Aisha chimed in. I got the impression that she might harbour a little resentment toward her mother's substance abuse problem."That's where we're going," I confirmed. "Now, as I understand it, she's a heroin user but not a heavy one, right?"Aisha shook her head, the spikes of the tiara rotating one way and then the other. "Not unless she's gotten a lot more into it since I left that ass-crack of a place.""Good." I smiled. I already didn't like Aisha's mother, and the thought of her having to dry out without the assistance of an addiction program was savagely satisfying to me."How did you even know that?" asked Brian. "Have you been here before?""Never in my life. Just pull over here." I indicated a parking spot right next to the building I needed to visit. "Whatever you two do,
stay in the car.
Do not try to come get me, do not call out. I'll be out shortly. Got it?""Are you
suure
I can't come up and see her face when you take all her shit?" Aisha was good at wheedling, but fortunately I was immune to puppy-dog eyes. Unless I chose not to be, of course."Certain." I looked at Brian and hooked my head toward Aisha.
Don't let her get out.
He nodded to me; the silent message had been received loud and clear.Climbing out of the car, I strode across the sidewalk and in through the front doors. There was supposed to be some kind of buzzer mechanism but it seemed to have been damaged beyond repair by previous tenants. Ignoring the elevator, I took the stairs at a steady trot.All around me, I was aware of tiny caches of illicit substances here and there, but I was only interested in one. Specifically, the drugs currently being held by Aisha's mother. Her habits—drug-taking and social—had screwed up Aisha's life for the longest time. Drug abuse while pregnant had left baby Aisha with a short attention span; it was manageable, but it could've been a lot worse.I reached the correct floor and strode along the corridor until I got to the right door. There were several options for entry, ranging from picking the lock (I would've needed lockpicks) to shooting the lock off (a waste of ammunition, in my opinion) to kicking the door in (hard on the ankles). I chose another avenue altogether; leaning in toward the door, I changed my voice to a pack-a-day masculine rasp. Knocking on the door, I called out, "Celia, babe, open up. I got the stuff."She unlocked the door immediately, of course. I put my shoulder to it and shoved it open, and I was inside before she realised what was going on. "What the fuck?" she demanded. "Who are y—urk!" The reason her question was cut short was because my hand had gone around her throat and pushed her against the wall.I nudged the door shut with my hip and snapped the locks over, then got the shears out and rested the tip on the bridge of her nose. "You may have heard of me," I said quietly. "My name is Atropos. I killed Skidmark last night, which is why Carl's left town and Troy is taking over for him. Carl was the smart one. Do you understand?" She was staring cross-eyed at the shears, so I lifted them until she was looking across them at me. "Do you understand?" I repeated."Uh huh," she whimpered. "Please don't kill me." I smelled fresh urine, and noted that she'd pissed herself. It probably wouldn't be an uncommon reaction in this situation, going forward."Not in my plans," I said, and pointed at a chair. "Sit there and don't move. If you run, I
will
catch you, and it won't be pleasant."Obediently, she sat. I picked up a crushed paper bag from the table and straightened it out. It had evidently been used to bring drugs into the apartment before now, so this was an appropriate use for it. Warily, she watched me as I moved around the apartment, zeroing in on every drug cache she had, ignoring the ones for weed. Each little baggie went into the paper bag, her face falling a little more with every loss."So, who ratted me out?" she asked sullenly as I finished my rounds. Not a fraction of an ounce of white powder, pills or rocks of crack cocaine had been left within the apartment."Nobody." I carefully folded the bag over, then moved to stand next to the door."Oh, don't give me that bullshit." Given that I hadn't carved her up on the spot, she'd evidently decided that I wasn't going to hurt her. "You just cleaned me out of the hard stuff without looking anywhere else. Somebody who knew where it was had to tell you."I flicked the locks, pulled the door open, and yanked the aforementioned Troy into the room just as he was about to knock. As he was still staggering, trying to regain his balance, I locked the door again and moved in after him. "Afternoon, Troy," I said. "We need to have a chat."His butt came up against the table and he stopped short, staring at me. "Fuck!" he said. "You're
her
… uh …""Atropos, yes." It was truly sad, the lack of education in the inner city these days. "Don't pull your gun and you'll be fine—"He pulled his gun. Which meant he wasn't fine. Throwing the bag I held in his face, I moved into close quarters. The bag made him flinch and blinded him for an instant, which was all the time I needed to secure his wrist and take the gun away from him. Of course, he needed to be reminded why it was a bad idea to pull a gun on me, so I dropped the pistol on the table, drew the shears, and nailed his right hand to the table.He screamed and dropped the bag he held in his left hand, almost the twin to mine, except for the fact that his was a good deal fuller. I took up his pistol and dropped the magazine out of it, then retrieved the last round out of the chamber. They were the same calibre that Oni Lee's pistol could use, and it wasn't like I could go to a gun shop and buy more ammo."Now," I said to Troy, who was screaming a little less now that nobody was jolting the wound. "Do I have your full attention?"He glared at me, but a warning gesture with my own pistol stopped him from just grabbing the shears and pulling them out of his hand. "You're gonna die for this," he panted. "Nobody fucks with our crew.""I
do," I informed him. "Now, one more time. Are you listening?"He gritted his teeth and sucked in a long breath through his nostrils. "… yeah.""Good. What I've got to say is simple. You won't even need to take notes. As of right now, you're out of the drug trade. If I catch you dealing drugs again, I will kill you. It won't be a fair fight, or even a fight at all. You'll just die. Is there any part of what I've just said that you don't understand?"There was a long pause, then he remembered to shake his head."Good," I said, then my power flared.Something new had impinged on my awareness of danger. It appeared that my power now considered Aisha to be just as worthy of protection as my dad, because it had just told me that she was in danger.My reaction was immediate:
Path to End the danger to Aisha.Troy screamed all over again as I yanked the shears out of the table and his hand respectively. Grabbing him, I spun him around as though we were dancing, but I made sure that he was always just a little off-balance, tottering around in a series of circles that inevitably led toward the window.Result to Troy, my power informed me when I queried it.
Broken neck, crushed skull, broken spine. Death within minutes.That wasn't good enough. I'd promised Aisha that I wouldn't kill anyone who wasn't trying to kill me. Also, I'd told Troy that he'd die if he dealt any more drugs. I hadn't given him the chance to avoid dealing drugs in future.Turning slightly, I amended our trajectory, so that when I let Troy go and he went out the window, it was back-first, not headfirst.A moment later, I got the acknowledgement from my power:
Danger to Aisha ended. Path complete. Result to Troy: broken arm, broken collar-bone, broken kneecap. Will live.
<><>
Tenebrae"I wanna go up and see what's going on," whined Aisha. "The look on that bitch's face with Atropos giving her the good news must be fuckin'
epic.""She said to stay in the car, and that's where we're staying." Brian was adamant on this. He didn't
want
to know what was happening up in his mother's apartment. If he didn't know about it, he didn't have to report on it."Yeah, but—"Aisha abruptly shut up as a dark shadow loomed next to the car. A scarred leather-jacketed man, his entire demeanour shouting
'I'm a leg breaker'
to any who cared to listen, leaned down and looked in through the car windows.The man looked at Brian, then at Aisha. "What the fuck are you two doing?" he demanded.Brian opened his mouth to give a de-escalating answer, but Aisha got in first. "Waiting for a fuckin' train. What's it to you, asshole?"Jesus Christ, Aisha!
"Ignore her," he said hastily. "We're just waiting on a friend. We won't be here long."His heart sank as the guy paid no attention to him and glared at Aisha. "What the fuck did you say, you little bitch?" Leaning into the car, he made a grab for her."I said
fuck off!" she screamed, and yanked the tiara off her head, jamming one of the spikes into the back of his massive paw."Cocksucker!" He jumped back from the car and reached around under the back of his jacket.Brian was reasonably certain that the asshole wasn't seeking to alleviate his back pain, so he prepared to flood the car with blackness. But before the gun even made an appearance, there was the tinkle of broken glass and a scream from above. The scarred enforcer looked up, just in time for another man to land on him; they both ended up on the sidewalk in a feebly moving heap.The other enforcer, who'd been standing back and watching the show, drew his pistol and ran into the building. Brian glanced at Aisha, then they both stared at the injured men. From inside the building, they heard the distinct sound of a shot.The doors opened again, and Atropos emerged. She was carrying two brown paper bags, as well as a bottle of bleach. Strolling across to where the car was, she opened the door and got in. "Drive," she said. "I'll give you directions.""Are you okay?" asked Aisha. "That guy who ran in there—"Atropos closed the door and put her seatbelt on. "Don't worry about it," she said. "I saw him coming."
<><>
A Small ParkAtroposBrian and I watched as a madly grinning Aisha poured undiluted bleach over the drugs I'd collected from their mother's apartment. The plastic melted under the onslaught, and the various addictive substances bubbled and fizzed as the bleach attacked their very chemical structures. It was quite interesting, in a scientific sort of way."Die, you little pieces of shit!" Aisha cackled. "Die!" She poked at the mixture with a stick—a
long
stick, given that the fumes coming off the mess were fairly powerful—and watched with intense satisfaction as it all broke down into a formless mass.Brian turned to me. "I have a question.""I may have an answer." I knew what he was going to ask, but I preferred to let him keep his illusions of free will for the moment."When we stopped at the convenience store, why did you have me buy string and road flares?"I grinned under the mask. "All things will be revealed in time."When the last of the drugs were gone—washed down a convenient drain with the application of more bleach—Aisha put the cap back on the bottle and turned to me. Her eyes were bright with tears and the hug she gave me was heartfelt."How are you feeling now?" I asked her, ruffling her hair."Fuckin'
amazeballs," she said, her grin back to its full wattage. "Let's go fuck up some more drug dealers!"I nodded slowly, as though I was merely considering it, when in fact I'd already decided on my course of action. "I believe we can do that.""Fuck, yeah!"
<><>
Half an Hour LaterTenebraeAtropos, Brian decided, was beyond terrifying. Not only could she and would she kill anyone who threatened her for any reason, but she also
knew
who threatened her and could deal with them before they were aware of her. More than that, when she set her sights on Brockton Bay's drug trade, she had somehow acquired the knowledge of exactly where all the drugs were.
All
the drugs.Case in point: the innocuous suburban two-story house before them. It bore all the hallmarks of belonging to a happy couple with two point three children and a dog, including a tricycle artfully displayed in the front yard, and a cutesy little sign saying, "Forget the dog, beware of the kids".
Someone had put a lot of effort into making it seem even more normal than the neighbours.But as it happened, it was a major drug distribution hub for the south side of Brockton Bay. The dealers never came there, of course; the product was loaded into the late-model car (complete with BABY ON BOARD sticker on the rear window) and driven sedately to other locations, where it was handed out. Atropos had explained all this before she got out of the car and headed across the road.She'd said one other thing, as well. "Call the fire department. They're gonna need it."After a long few minutes, during which time he heard absolutely nothing, Atropos leaned out the door and beckoned to them. Brian definitely wanted to see what was going on, and so did Aisha; scrambling out of the car, they headed across the road. "What's the matter?" he asked. "Is it a bust?""You might say that." He was pretty sure she was grinning under the mask. "Come on in. This is where the drugs that were supplying your mom would've come from." She had her shears in her hand, and seemed to be wiping them down.Stepping into the front room of the house still looked absolutely normal. Another doorway, not in a direct line with the front door, led to the back of the house … and his mind was blown.There was no kitchen, no bedrooms, no living room. Carefully hung curtains covered every window. Speakers played TV sounds, and the occasional noise of a baby crying. But the interior of the house had been gutted, and the resultant room was all made over to the division and packaging of drugs for supply to the population of Brockton Bay."Holy fuckballs," whispered Aisha. "I'd never have known. This is where they're from?""It's where they go through for this part of the distribution, yeah." Atropos sounded remarkably matter-of-fact about the whole thing. "There are other hubs, but I'll get to those in time.""So, where does this place get 'em from?" asked Brian. He tried hard not to look at the corpses lying on the floor and draped over the table. Several pistols lay here and there. There was rather a lot of blood. "And how come we didn't hear any gunshots?"Atropos shrugged. "A firefight in the suburbs is too dangerous. The walls are too thin, and bullets might've come your way. I decided not to let them start one." She finished wiping off the shears, and re-sheathed them."So … we're calling the cops now as well as the fire department, right?" He eyed the various packets of white powder that lay on the table, and the further stack in the corner. "Because they're going to need to take all this into evidence.""Nope." She pulled a road flare out of her pocket. "Not all of it would make it into evidence. I'm trying to give them the best chance to kick their corruption, so there's no sense in dangling temptation in front of them. Come on, let's go. And it's time you made that call." She pulled the cap off the end of the flare, and struck it.Brian finished the call to the fire department as they climbed into the car again. Across the road, the first flickers of flame were showing in the front windows. Putting his phone away, he fastened his seat belt, then started the car. "Where to now?"Atropos put her hand on his arm. "Are you okay with this? Because if you're not, we can drop you off."He took a long, deep breath. "Before I say yes or no, is it okay if I make a phone call?""Be my guest," she invited. He got the impression that she knew exactly where he was calling and why.Starting the car, he drove it around the corner and parked again, then pulled out his Wards-issue phone.
<><>
PRT BuildingDeputy Director Renick's Office"Renick.""Sir, it's Laborn.""Is there a problem?"There was a pause. "Potentially. I think we've exceeded the orders you gave me already.""Explain.""After we left the park, Atropos had me drive her from place to place. She's injuring and killing drug dealers, and destroying the drugs. She just burned down a house full of drugs in the suburbs after killing everyone inside. I need to know what I should be doing right now."This time, it was Paul's turn to pause. "Is your sister still with her?""Yes, sir.""Is Atropos harming innocents?""Not as far as I can tell, sir. She did throw someone out of a third story window to land on someone who was threatening Aisha, but he turned out to be my mother's drug dealer."Paul blinked. That wasn't a line he heard every day. "Did … did he survive?""They both did, but neither one was happy about it, sir.""Alright then. Stick with her. If you can safely minimise casualties, do it. But do not—I say again, do
not—actively interfere, unless she is specifically endangering you, your sister, or any other innocents. Do you understand?""Yes, sir. I understand."
<><>
AtroposI looked at Brian. He wasn't exactly thrilled right now, and I knew why. He'd never been comfortable with the concept of killing, and he'd been ordered to spend time with someone who killed as easily as breathing (but not casually; never casually). I'd set out to shut down one line of drug trafficking into the city, and the death toll along the way was starting to get to him.I didn't need to feel guilty about this, and I knew it. My promise had specified that I wouldn't kill anyone so long as they weren't trying to kill me. All the people in the drug distribution hub had been doing their best to end my existence; I just hadn't let them get as far as pointing a gun in my direction. It wasn't my fault that I was better at it than they were.And of course, there was the money aspect. Supplying illicit drugs to the population had always been a cash cow, and people were ever willing to defend it with lethal force. This meant that the farther up the chain we got, the more likely we were to meet people who were not only willing to kill, but were actually good at it. Which meant in turn that I would normally have had fewer options when it came to ending the fight without killing them.Not that this bothered me. If they were so eager to die, who was I to gainsay them?However, there was the extra twist of the report he was going to make to the Deputy Director. I had no doubt that Piggot and Renick would make their final determination about me using their own judgement, but such things could be influenced by reports like the one he was going to give. And if he could give the impression that I was someone who could use restraint when necessary (which I was) then it would be another step on the Path to Ending their institutional distrust of me."So, Brian," I said, gesturing at the warehouse across the way. "You think you could fill that with darkness?"He blinked, then eyed the warehouse itself. As with the faux suburban house, it could've passed as being absolutely normal for its area. Except for a few minor details, of course. For instance, the guard in his little shack (bulletproof, with a code-locked door) was armed with illegally modified firearms. If he called for help, there were more guards within the building, ready to run out at a moment's notice. And inside, yet more guards were just there to patrol the interior of the building. It looked like someone was definitely willing to pay extra to protect their investment.It was so
nice
to be taken seriously by people I'd never met. I might almost regret having to kill them, if they refused to change their ways."I … guess I could," he said at a moment's notice. "Are you going to kill anyone?""Not if they can't see me," I said firmly. It was very much a gauntlet being thrown down. He could save the lives of every person in there, if he was willing to use his power to help me get what I wanted."You realise that I'm the
only
one who can see through my darkness, right?" He eyed me as though unsure whether I knew about his abilities. "Nobody else can. To them, it's pitch darkness."I shrugged. "Meh. Sight is overrated." Which was funny, because although I could
see,
without my glasses I was near-sighted. My power just filled in details when I needed them, all in the name of completing the Path.We got out of the car and Brian approached the guard shack. What the guard couldn't see was that I was directly
behind
Brian, in the lovely great blind spot created by his muscular torso. The shack had a Perspex window with a small shelf on the outside to allow visitors to sign things—I was pretty sure this was a common configuration for these things.The downside of a setup like that was while Brian was leaning in close (keeping his hands in plain view) and asking for directions out of the local maze of back streets, it was possible for me to duck down and slither around to where I could reach up and enter the door code. Which I did. The guard reacted far too slowly, expecting one of his colleagues to be relieving him. Me swinging off the door-frame and bouncing his head off the far wall with not quite lethal force might have relieved him of anything resembling consciousness, but he probably didn't mean it that way.With the guard flex-cuffed (he had a store of these, which I appropriated) we moved on to a human-entry door. I'd lifted the guard's keys, and now I tapped the electronic reader with a particular fob and typed in a four-digit code. Not the same one as on the guard shack, I was pleased to see. These guys weren't stupid, just … well, drug-dealing assholes."Darkness, now," I murmured. Brian obediently generated a cloud of the stuff around us.I opened the door in the secure knowledge that nobody would see a bright sunlit rectangle and two people entering. We stepped inside and I shut the door again. Then I prised off a cover, pulled two wires and touched them together, and shorted out the whole door-alarm system.With that taken care of, we started off around the perimeter of the warehouse. We lurked around the inside of the wall, travelling in our own little blot of darkness, until we were behind a pallet—of money, as it turned out."Holy shit," he whispered. "This is more money than I've ever seen in my life."That got a dry chuckle from me. "Well, feast your eyes, sunshine, because that bad boy does not survive to the end of the movie."It took him a few seconds to figure it out. "But—""We can't take it, if the cops show up it becomes evidence and helps nobody, and I'm not leaving it for some drug dealer to spend on more drugs." I shrugged. "It is what it is. Now, if we can have some darkness on the issue, please?"It didn't take him long to decide to play along. Darkness started rolling off him in great waves, washing through the warehouse and slowly rising like a horror-movie tide full of Things Man was not Meant to Eat. I heard the first shouts of alarm then, and headed off to start the cleanup.It was kind of weird, moving through the blacked-out warehouse, not being able to see a thing, yet knowing where I was and that there was a staircase directly ahead of me. Also, there was a guard feeling his way down the staircase, one cautious step at a time.Well, I was never one to look a gift horse in the teeth. I went up as he came down, then when I got close enough, I flipped him over the rail. His brief scream ended when he hit the concrete and knocked himself out.Trotting back down the stairs, I flex-cuffed him, then waved Brian over. "Get him outside," I said. "Far side of the road.""Got it." Brian grunted as he lifted the man in a fireman's carry. I could never have done that; then again, I lacked an extra hundred pounds of muscle, which probably explained it.The rest of the clearance went more or less the same way. Everyone was cautiously feeling their way around, while I knew exactly where they were and what they were doing. Brian even assisted in subduing a few of them, which sped things up considerably.When the last man was accounted for, I sent Brian to the door to wait for me. In the inside pockets of my long-coat, I'd been carrying several of the grenades I'd inherited from Oni Lee. I figured I might want to get some more later on, but right now, these were going to be used to send a message.Not In My City.Each grenade was attached to a pallet of drugs or of money; I didn't have enough of them to trap all the pallets, but I figured I had enough to make ready for the second stage. I worked the pin almost free from each grenade, and tied a length of string to it. Strings trailing through my hands, I strolled back to where Brian was waiting. He'd just moved the guy from the guard shack to where the others were, so that we were the only ones on the actual property."Ready for the final act?" I asked, beckoning Aisha over.Brian hadn't been watching too closely, so he didn't know what the strings meant. "Final act?" he asked as Aisha approached. "What final act?"By way of answer, I handed half the strings to him, and the other half to Aisha. "Pull these when I say 'three'," I said. "One. Two. Three."They both yanked on the strings. At the same time, I pulled the cap off a road flare and struck it. It flared brightly, even though the sun was still out."What's supposed to happen?" asked Aisha, looking at the strings. "And what's the road flare—"Inside the warehouse, the grenades went off. Being chemically fused, there was of course a slight variation between one and another, but they were close enough to sound like one big explosion. Smoke and powder began to billow out through the open door."Run," I said.Aisha looked at me. "What?"Brian grabbed her arm.
"Run."
Dragging her with him, he headed off down the driveway. I turned and threw the road flare underarm toward the doorway, then casually walked after them."Why are we running?" protested Aisha as she and Brian crossed the road.BOOOMI felt the heat of the explosion, as well as the shift in air pressure, on my back, but I didn't alter my steady pace. Brian and Aisha had dived behind a parked car, and were now peering over it as I strolled over to them. Turning to lean on the car, I surveyed my handiwork.The warehouse was still there, though there were now holes in the walls and roof. As we watched, parts of the roof caved in. An enormous mushroom cloud climbed into the sky. Smoke was still pouring out of the stricken building, and it was easy to see that fires were blazing within."How the fuck did you do
that?" demanded Aisha."Flour bomb," I explained, then went back to watching the fire."Huh?""Flour bomb," Brian repeated, in tones of enlightenment. "Particulates suspended in the air can be made to explode, especially if they're flammable. And you just blew up pallets of …""Heroin, cocaine,
crack
cocaine, methamphetamines, PCP and cash," I recited promptly. "Most of which will absolutely form clouds in the air, especially if some unkind person inserts a grenade where it'll do the most good. Cash is of course flammable in its own right.""And we pulled the pins," marvelled Aisha. "That was
so damn cool."Brian's eyebrows rose toward his hairline as he looked over at the inferno. "That's … how much worth of drugs did we just destroy?""Eight figures," I said cheerfully. "Tens of millions. And that's not counting the cash. And all of it comes out of the pockets of the drug dealers. That right there? That was the next few months' worth of distribution in Brockton Bay, as well as the last month or so of outgoing profits.""Holy fuckballs on acid," Aisha said happily. "They are gonna be
so damn pissed.""That's the general idea, yes," I agreed. "An angry enemy is one who isn't thinking straight.""But … won't they just get more in?" asked Brian."Why, yes." I actually went so far as to steeple my fingertips. "I do believe they will."Aisha stared at me. "You know where an' when, don't you?"I nodded, once. "And now you get it."Aisha was still laughing when we got back into the car.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
AtroposAs we drove away from the still-burning warehouse—all the cops were going to get out of that place was a whole lot of ash and some pretty damn toxic residue—I turned to Brian. "Okay, last stop for the day." I gave him the address. "Not drug related, this time.""Aww." Aisha mock-pouted in the back seat. "I thought we were going to fuck up the day of some more druggies.""The shipment won't be coming in until tonight," I said. "Accord has yet to hear about it and arrange to replace the lost product. But I'm gonna wait until it hits the city limits, just to make a point.""Oh." She brightened. "So, we've already fucked up a supervillain's day, and he doesn't even know it? Which one's Accord, anyway?""He is absolutely going to be extremely unhappy about it, yes," I confirmed. "As for what he's like … you know how different Brian is to you when it comes to keeping things neat and tidy, everything in its place?""God,
yeah." I was pretty sure she'd just rolled her eyes. "I swear, I have to talk him out of ironing the towels.""Hey!" objected Brian. "I'm not
that
intense about it!""Well, you fold 'em!""Towels are
supposed
to be folded!""Since when?"I cleared my throat. "Aisha, settle. Towels are kind of supposed to be folded. Anyway, imagine someone who makes
Brian
look twice as untidy as
you."Silence fell in the car. In my peripheral vision, I caught Aisha blinking a couple of times. Eventually, she shook her head in wonder. "Holy motherfucking Smurfballs. Is he really that bad?""You tell me." I shrugged. "This is a guy who times his own bathroom breaks to the second."Now Brian turned toward me. "You're messing with us." He paused, awaiting a response from me. I said nothing. "You
are
messing with us. Right?""Oh, man," breathed Aisha, her entire being alight with an unholy joy. "I could
so
totally fuck with his head.""No!" snapped Brian. "Bad
Aisha! No poking at supervillains!""It's actually a bad idea," I agreed. "If someone interrupts one of his meetings, his immediate reaction is to kill them. In fact, that's his go-to for basically anything that disrupts his routine for any reason. The man has no chill. I'm pretty sure he considers 'chill' to be a dirty word.""And yet, you've got no problem with blowing up his drugs." Aisha's tone of voice was speculative."None whatsoever." I half-turned in my seat, looking back at her. "I know how to handle him. And how to kill him, if he makes it necessary. So even if he comes to town, even if you happen to lay eyes on him, you do
nothing. No smartass comments, no little jabs. You walk in the other direction, and you don't stop until you're out of sight. Do you understand?"She couldn't see my expression, but something in my tone must have gotten through to her. "… yeah, okay. I'll leave him for you to fuck up."I smiled and reached back with my fist for her to bump. "Good plan. We'll go with that one."Brian cleared his throat. "Okay, now we've got that settled, what's at the address where we're going?""An empty lot." I held up a hand. "But
near
there are a couple of guys I want to have a word with.""Wait a minute, wait a minute." Aisha spoke a little breathlessly. "I know who you're going to see. 'Cause I pay
attention."Brian frowned. "Okay, now you've lost me. Who?"
<><>
Uber and Leet's BaseBrendan looked around as a buzzer sounded. "What's that?"There was a thump and some swearing, then Leet stuck his head out of his work-room. "We got someone coming up to the front door. That's the proximity sensor. They'll be in camera range in a minute."Dropping the controller, Brendan came to his feet. "Are we expecting anyone?"His phone, on the side table, rang. Scooping it up, he looked at the caller ID, and froze. It said 'ATROPOS'. The phone rang again. Slowly, his thumb swiped to accept the call. "Hello?""You're expecting me,"
a teenage girl's voice said briskly.
"Remember? I told you I wanted to talk to you?""Dude, what's the matter?" asked Leet, coming out of the work-room. "Who is it?"Brendan pointed at the screen. "A-Atropos," he croaked. At that moment, two teenagers walked into view. Both were black; one was a tall buff guy, and the other was a petite girl."Um, no, they're not." Leet frowned. "What the fuck are they doing here?""Waiting for you to let them in." The voice, that of a teenage girl, came from behind them.Brendan whirled, setting up with a defensive martial-arts pose, while Leet just spun around with a startled squawk. Atropos was standing there, every inch of her radiating menace. Around one finger, she spun a pair of odd-looking shears."Where the hell did
you
come from?" demanded Leet. "How did you get in?" He fumbled a cloth mask out of his pocket and pulled it over his head. Brendan followed suit, though he wasn't sure it would do any good."Your back door was unlocked," Atropos said. Brendan was sure she was grinning her head off behind that morph mask."It was
not!" Leet puffed himself up with outrage. "I made sure of it, an hour ago!""Well, it was unlocked after I entered the security code." Atropos shrugged. "It's all the same to me, really." She turned her head toward Brendan and gestured toward the front door with a flip of the shears. "So, you want to let my friends in?""That lock has a rotating security passcode that changes every minute, and changes the passcode generation seed every hour," Leet insisted. "Even if someone gave it to you ten minutes ago, there's no way it would've worked."Brendan left him to it, and went to the front door. The screen showed them simply waiting, not even bothering to knock. He undid the latches and swung the door open. "Hello. You can call me Uber. Come on in." Whoever Atropos' friends were, it was probably a very good idea to be polite to them."Thanks." The big guy—about Brendan's size and heft, with an air that said he could handle himself—looked around with interest, but didn't comment.His reticence was more than made up for by the girl, who sported a purple streak in her hair, Glory Girl's tiara, and an attitude a mile wide. "Holy shit, this place is a mess. Hey, how you doing? This is my big bro, Bravo. I'm Alpha. Because I'm just that cool.""That's also the name Atropos told you to use," 'Bravo' said, with a long-suffering sigh. "And remember, she told you to keep your hands to yourself. This isn't just
a
Tinker lab, it's
Leet's Tinker lab. We have no idea what any of this stuff does, whether it works, or if it'll just explode instead.""Hey, he's not that bad," Brendan objected, driven more by the impulse to defend his buddy than to actually set the record straight. "Most of his stuff works, most of the time.""Really?" 'Alpha' gave him a challenging look. "So, how many times did he lose his eyebrows last year?"Brendan sighed. "Last year was not a good year for that, I'll admit. But it still wasn't that bad. We're both alive, and still not in prison.""That's because you were right at the bottom of the priority list," Atropos said from right behind him, making him jump. He'd seen she was wearing knee-high hard-soled boots, and she'd
still
snuck up on him."Jesus, don't
do
that!" he protested, forgetting his intention of being polite as he turned to glare at her. "And what do you mean, 'priority list'?""It's a PRT thing," 'Bravo' said in a professorial tone. "When there's powerful capes they'd love to arrest and low-tier capes who aren't committing high-profile crimes, a sort of paralysis can set in. Going after the big names requires far more resources, and sometimes the powers that be can query if it's really worth putting all that effort into catching one cape, when the same level of force can theoretically roll up four or five lower-level ones. But if they commit to the lower-level ones, you get people—sometimes the very same people—asking why they're not focusing on the really dangerous capes."He seemed to realise that both Brendan and Leet were staring at him, and he shrugged in a self-effacing way. "Sorry. I had to do a paper on it for one of my classes.""Wait," Leet said, in a tone of disappointment. "You mean we're
not
that good at hiding?""Pfft, hardly," 'Alpha' said dismissively. "My girl Atropos said, 'let's go visit Uber and Leet'
and bingo, we came straight here.""And don't worry," 'Bravo' said. "We're not going to tell the PRT where you are right now. This is purely a social call. Atropos is calling the shots, here.""But why
are
you here?" asked Brendan. "What do you want with us? If you're here to warn us to get out of town, trust me, telling us on PHO would've done the trick.""Because I don't want you out of town just yet," Atropos explained. "In fact, I'm here to trade a favour for a favour. Leet, if we can just go into your workroom, I'd like to discuss the nitty-gritty with you. Uber, figure you can entertain my friends for a bit? Thanks."Before either Brendan or Leet had the chance to object, she grabbed Leet by the arm and dragged him into the workroom. The door closed behind them."Well," remarked Bravo. "That
happened.""Does it normally? Around Atropos, I mean?" Brendan had a sinking feeling he knew the answer."Pfft, when does it not?" Alpha grinned widely. "We met her in the park today for selfies, and before we were done, I had this as a present." She tapped the tiara. "It's genuine as fuck. Glory Girl tried to pull shit with Atropos, and did
not
have a good time of it."Brendan's eyes widened. "Holy shit.
The
Glory Girl? She once dislocated Leet's shoulder. And Atropos beat her up?""Something like that," Bravo confirmed. "Just between you, me and the gatepost? Don't ever try to pull shit with Atropos. It's a bad, bad idea. We just torched millions of dollars worth of drugs, and she's going to keep doing it until the people sending it to Brockton Bay get the message."Alpha pointed. "Hey, nice console setup. What games you got?" She headed over to get a better look."Whoa, hold back there," Bravo said reprovingly. "You can't just go poking around someone else's gaming gear.""We've got all the classics," Brendan said, happy to show off with something that didn't make him feel second class. "You guys play? We've got a third controller around here somewhere if you're interested."Bravo smiled in the same way that a card shark might, just before asking someone to explain how the game was played. "Oh, I've been known to sit down with my friends from time to time.""Whoo yeah!" whooped Alpha, vaulting over the back of the sofa and grabbing up one of the controllers. "Let's
do
this thing!""Sorry about her," Bravo said. "She gets … enthusiastic, from time to time."Brendan shrugged as he went digging under the accumulated detritus of two guys living together for the third controller. "It's okay. Trust me, I've seen worse."Alpha chuckled darkly. "Challenge …
accepted.""No," Bravo said. "Not
challenge accepted. There was no challenge. Do not accept any challenges."As Brendan located the other controller and plugged it in, he wondered why Bravo was so adamant that there was no challenge.
<><>
Half an hour later, he had his answer.Alpha was a
maniac.
Her rapid-fire delivery was nothing compared to her gameplay style. While her brother was skilled in his own right, with steady, competent button work, Alpha was chaos incarnate.He'd never seen anything like it before, and he'd been gaming with Leet since there were console games to play. She alternated between reckless button-mashing, ridiculous off-the-wall plays, and occasional bursts of either madness or brilliance; he couldn't quite tell. While Brendan was specifically very good at controller use, she seemed to have an instinctive quality to outplay him at crucial moments, by doing something totally illogical
that still got her the win.All in all, he was both relieved and disappointed when the work-room door opened, and Atropos emerged with Leet trailing behind. "Okay," said the black-costumed killer. "We're all agreed?""Yeah," Leet said. "I'll change the command recognition codes tonight. The other one will take a bit longer. Maybe a week, depending on how it goes.""Good." Atropos' voice seemed to change, become somehow unearthly. "Just don't screw it up.""I, uh, won't?" Leet sounded more nervous than ever."Good." Atropos came over and leaned on the back of the sofa. "Okay, time to go.""Aww, I was just getting my eye in," Alpha complained. "Bro, we need a gaming console.""I'll see if I can ask for one." Bravo got up and dropped the controller on the sofa. "Thanks, Uber. Good game.""Yeah, me too." Alpha jumped up, then planted her foot on a cushion and vaulted back over the sofa. "That was actually kinda fun.""Good. Glad you enjoyed yourselves." Atropos straightened up and turned to face Brendan and Leet. "Over and above our arrangement, I'm going to leave you alone. But given that all the big gangs are out of action, you
are
the big supervillain names in town right now, so you're probably on the top of the priority list all of a sudden. It might be an idea to keep your heads down anyway."Somehow, the shears had found their way back into her hands, and she began spinning them one way and then the other, the razor-edged blades glinting in the light. "Oh, and I suggest you
never
have another episode where people get hurt for real. Or you two and I will be having another chat. An extremely
brief
one. Do I make myself clear?"Brendan nodded. It didn't seem like a smart idea to do anything else. "Crystal.""Good. I'm
so
glad we understand each other."
<><>
PRT Building ENE, Director's OfficeDirector Emily PiggotEmily eyed the Laborn boy. He seemed unharmed, though one foot kept twitching and he had to cradle the cup of coffee in both hands. She'd seen these signs before, usually in soldiers who'd spent too long in a hot zone. "Are you alright? Did she make you as a Ward?"He chuckled hollowly. "In about the first ten seconds." A sip of the coffee seemed to steady his nerves. "But she wasn't worried by it. She knew exactly why I was there, and didn't even have a problem with me calling the Deputy Director."Renick, sitting off to the side in his own chair, shared a glance with her. Then he posed his own question. "Did she threaten you or your sister to keep you in line?"Laborn shook his head. "No. She didn't bother. The whole time we were with her, she was …
nice. Like she was making the extra effort to put us at our ease. She even told me flat-out that so long as the PRT and heroes in this town didn't aggress on her, she wouldn't hurt us. And even if one of us did, she promised not to kill them."Emily shook her head. "Even having seen what she can do, that's a rather broad and sweeping claim. It presupposes an ability to harm or kill any hero in the city, if they happen to attack her. Did you see any capability that might bear that out?""She knows stuff she literally shouldn't," he said frankly. "Like the locations of those drug stash houses she destroyed. There was no checking of data, or making phone calls. She just had me drive straight there. She also knew where Uber and Leet's hideout was, and was able to enter the combination of a secure code-lock in just seconds. If she can do all that, then there's nothing stopping her from knowing any cape's weakness, or figuring out how to kill them."Emily thought back to Shadow Stalker's autopsy. There had been a faint burn mark on the corpse.
Electrical? Did Atropos know to use electricity against her? God damn it."Uber and Leet?" Renick sat forward. "You know where they are?""She wanted a favour from Leet," Laborn said hastily. "We were essentially there under flag of truce. She asked me not to pass the location on to the PRT, and I'm honouring that."Emily didn't like that, but she nodded. Truces between heroes and villains were to be respected, because there was no other way to induce the villains to stick to them when the heroes were on the weaker side. Still, that didn't mean she couldn't ask other questions. "Did you find out what she wanted from Leet?""No, they were in another room." Laborn paused. "But after they came out, she said she was okay with them staying in town, but they were probably a higher priority for the PRT now. And if they did any more shows where people got hurt, she'd pay them a very brief visit."In other words, kill them.
"Understood," she said. "What's your impression of her capabilities and her motives?"He took a long drink from his coffee. "Capabilities? Utterly terrifying," he confessed. "When we were in the warehouse, she had me fill it with my darkness … which she flat-out ignored. She said something about how sight is overrated, then went straight into the darkness and started subduing guards. A little earlier than that, the first drug house she torched, she went in there alone, they all pulled guns … and she killed every single one before they could open fire on her. Because she didn't want anyone endangered by bullets flying through walls. As for motives … well, she's not in it for money. She walked straight past a literal pallet of cash and didn't take a dime. In fact, she deliberately burned it."He drew a long breath, then let it out. "There's one more thing. Something I think we need to keep on the down-low.""We're listening," Renick said encouragingly.Laborn seemed to consider his words. "When we were in the park with her, there was an encounter with Glory Girl. We were posing for a group camera selfie when Glory Girl attacked from behind, aiming for Atropos. But because we were standing close together, she would've gotten all of us. Aisha could've been badly hurt.
I
could've been badly hurt.""What happened?" asked Emily.He shrugged. "Atropos shouted a warning at the last instant and pushed us away, then dropped flat. Glory Girl demolished the picnic table. Atropos and I both warned her to back off, but she wouldn't. Then Atropos did something with a coin, and Glory Girl inhaled it on her next pass, and started choking. Panacea arrived just as Atropos was holding her shears right next to Glory Girl's eye."Renick shook his head. "She'd never get through Glory Girl's invincibility.""Except she did, sir." Laborn gestured to his eyes with one hand. "She snipped off a couple of Glory Girl's eyelashes, and she kept on smacking her on the forehead with those shears to prove she
could
hurt her. Then she got a promise from Panacea for a favour if she didn't spill the beans about Glory Girl nearly hurting me and Aisha. Also, she confiscated Glory Girl's tiara and gave it to Aisha.""Ah." Emily shared another glance with Renick. "I do see what you mean. We'll need a more complete written report about the whole event. Though did she say anything about the favour she wanted?""No, ma'am." Laborn looked pensive. "Just that it wouldn't be 'hugely illegal', whatever that means.""Understood." There was no way Emily wanted to queer any deal Atropos had with Panacea.
She's probably setting aside an option for emergency healing, just in case. It sounded as though Glory Girl had learned a salutary lesson anyway. "Your overall impression of Atropos?""Impossibly skilled, inhumanly capable, effectively psychic, possibly precognitive," rattled off Laborn. "But she was human enough to not kill anyone in the warehouse, because she could see I was starting to get antsy over all the death. Didn't get angry with me, just pivoted to 'okay, we're not killing anyone this time'
and got the job done. And she positively doted over Aisha." His head came up. "Oh, there was also the incident of the drug dealer she threw out the window to save Aisha."Emily raised her eyebrows. "Details, please.""We were in the car, waiting downstairs while Atropos deprived our mother of every last drug in her possession. But her dealer showed up, and left his hired muscle downstairs. One of them noticed us and came over. Aisha smarted off to him, things escalated, and he was just pulling a gun when the dealer landed on him from the third floor. Atropos had thrown him out the window.""There was a police report of a dead man in the stairwell there," Renick noted. "Shot in the face. Atropos?"Laborn nodded. "Almost certainly. That would be the other bodyguard. He pulled his gun before he went in."Emily shook her head at the idiocy of some people. "Well, I'm pleased you made it through the ordeal unscathed. How was your sister at the end of the day?"For the first time, Laborn smiled. "She's over the moon. Atropos brought along a Polaroid camera, and gave us both signed selfies with her. Aisha also got to go along and watch as Atropos destroyed literally millions of dollars' worth of drugs. It's made her entire
year.""And how are you holding up, young man?" asked Renick. "It can't have been easy, to have someone who's killed so many people within arm's reach like that.""Still a bit jittery," admitted Laborn. "But Aisha had an amazing day, and I think that makes it worth it.""Good," said Emily. Now came the sixty-four-million-dollar question. "If and when your sister makes another arrangement to meet with Atropos, do you feel up to accompanying her again?"Laborn drew a deep breath then held it, seeming to think about the question. Finally, he nodded. "Yeah. I can do that."Renick stood. "Good lad," he said heartily. "You've done well. Go and relax for the time being. Unwind. You've earned it.""Thank you, sir." Laborn stood up as well, and nodded toward Emily. "Ma'am." Turning, he headed out of the office, taking the coffee cup with him.Emily waited for the door to close before she turned to Renick. "What do you think?"Renick rubbed his jaw. "A little rough on the boy," he said judiciously. "But worth it overall, I think. The information that Atropos doesn't intend to hurt our people is very good to have.""True," Emily said dryly. "Now, if only we could convince all the
other
idiots to not get in her way."He snorted gently in amusement. "I'm only a Deputy Director, ma'am. Not a miracle worker."
<><>
Later That NightAtroposI sat in Dad's car in a turnoff, just inside the Brockton Bay city limits. We had the windows open for ventilation, and so I could hear the traffic. There wasn't much at the moment, which was good. I didn't need any misguided good Samaritans trying to intervene on the other side's behalf."Five minutes," I said. "I've said this before, but I'll say it again. There'll be a lead car and a chase car. Each one will have three men in it. The driver's a regular truck driver who doesn't know what he's carrying; he's been offered twice the normal pay to get it into Brockton Bay tonight. There's a secondary location that Accord doesn't think I know about.""Are you going to do something about it?" asked Dad. "I mean, since they won't have any drugs to distribute?""Not at the moment." I leaned back in the seat and relaxed. "I'll let him pay their wages and waste his money until they actually start earning it, at which point I'll cut them off.""How about Accord himself?" he asked. "You did say something about how people sending their underlings to the Bay wouldn't get away with it either.""Oh, he'll get the message when I destroy this shipment." I checked the pockets of my long-coat. I wouldn't need my last grenade until tomorrow, but the road flares should come in handy, as would the hand-held two-way radio. I'd scored it from the Dockworkers' Association, and done a little work on it to get it to the right channel. "The man may be nuttier than squirrel shit, but he's unlikely to throw good money after bad. Besides, I've got a use for him in the long term."Dad shuddered. "The poor bastard," he muttered. I was pretty sure he'd intended for me to hear it.I smirked. "If he didn't want to get mixed up in my business, he shouldn't be selling drugs in Brockton Bay."We fell silent then, listening to the
vroooom
of cars and trucks passing by. When the clock in my head ticked over to one minute, I removed my glasses and put them in the centre console, then opened the door and got out. My mask went on, and then my hat. I retrieved the duffel-bag from the floor of the car, and closed the door. "Stay in the car," I said.In the semi-darkness, he shook his head; in worry, not negation. "I wish this didn't have to be you.""It would've been nice if someone did this before I had to," I said with a shrug. "Nobody did, so it's up to me."I turned away from the car and made my way out of the turnoff toward the side of the road. Even in winter, the trees were thick enough to make spotting Dad's car nigh-impossible unless someone drove down that exact turnoff. With ten seconds to go, I dropped the duffel in the shadows then stepped out onto the edge of the road, drawing my pistol.The lead car, going like a demon, roared around the corner far up ahead, briefly lighting me up with its high beams. The driver and passengers, keyed up as they were, would be asking themselves, 'was that her, or was it just a shadow?'.
The speed limit was seventy, and they were sitting exactly on that, getting closer to me at just over one hundred feet for every second that passed.Unhurriedly, I raised my pistol. The range was six hundred feet. Five hundred. Four hundred. The driver decided that I was no shadow, and began to edge toward me, aiming to clip me with the corner of his fender and ragdoll me into the trees. Three hundred.I fired three times, during which interval the car covered another fifty feet toward me. The most immediate effect of this was that the windshield starred all the way across, then crumpled inward due to wind-rush. With the driver and both passengers dead or dying, I switched aim to the driver's side front wheel and shot it out.The last two shell-casings tinkled to the gravel at the side of the road as the car blew past, already swerving toward the Jersey barrier in the middle of the road. It struck, spun out, then flipped. I'd already put it out of my mind when I turned back to look down the road.Raising the two-way to my face, I toggled the press-to-talk switch. "Breaker, breaker," I said. "White Peterbilt, license plate ending in Bravo Golf Two, prepare to stop. This is not a request. Atropos, out."Dropping the radio back into my pocket, I moved into the pool of illumination cast by a streetlight and raised the pistol as the eighteen-wheeler came into view. At first, it slowed; I heard the distinctive sound of a downshift. But then it accelerated again. I smiled grimly under my mask. It seemed that there was someone in that cab who didn't want to do what I said.Well, he heard my name. He was warned.At five hundred feet, I fired a single shot. The semi was of a type that had two panels for the windshield, so only the passenger side starred out. Immediately, the eighteen-wheeler began to slow down again, applying brakes and gears as only a master of the art of truck driving can do.Before it came to a complete halt, I had holstered my pistol and was running up to the passenger side. I scrambled up onto the running board, then hoisted myself up onto the cab, using the wing mirror as a brace for my foot. From there I took a running jump onto the top of the trailer itself.The chase car came blazing around the corner at this point. I wasn't sure if they could see me, but they could certainly see that the vehicle they were charged with shepherding all the way into Brockton Bay was stopped at the side of the road.Also, there were four more men in the trailer itself, hemmed about with crates that would stop gunfire from the side but allow them to shoot at anyone opening the rear doors. I drew my pistol again, and fired four shots down into the top of the trailer. Well, there
had
been four men in the trailer. Now there were four corpses.A shot winged past me, just close enough for me to notice it, and another
pinged
off the corner of the trailer. It seemed the men in the car had noticed me. Which meant they
could
have chosen to drive past peacefully, turn around, and slink back to Boston to give the bad news to Accord … or they could choose to commit suicide.Suicide it was, then. I fired four times, and the car veered off the road into the trees. Contrary to popular belief spread by Hollywood, it did not burst into flames. I was vaguely disappointed. The next car I sent careening off the road, I decided, would explode into flames in proper action-movie style.The driver, huddled in his seat, jumped when I swung down alongside his door and tapped on his window. He rolled it down, looking at me as though he expected to die at any second. "I'm not part of it," he quavered. "I just drive. They never tell me what's in the back.""And that's fine with me," I said. "I want you to unhitch this thing from the trailer, and then take a message back to whoever you work for in Boston. Can you do that for me?"He nodded urgently, very willing to cooperate with me. "I can totally do that for you."While he was unhitching the prime mover from the trailer, I went and collected the duffel, then climbed into the back of the trailer. The eighteen-wheeler had been carrying washing machines, or so the crates that greeted me said. I appreciated the irony. Passing by two of the crates, I took the pry-bar out of the duffel and levered the top off a third. Within was stacks and stacks of cash; the money Accord had sent to pay his dealers to keep dealing in the face of my threats.It took me awhile to put enough of it into the duffel to work for what I wanted, then I zipped the bag up and went to the back of the truck. Outside, I could hear the prime mover's engine rumbling as the driver rolled it forward, away from the now abandoned trailer.Pulling out a road flare, I lit it up and tossed it onto the open crate of cash. The rest of the trailer would catch soon enough, and the entire shipment would become one huge bonfire in the middle of I-95. I jumped down and headed forward to where the truck driver was nervously waiting for me alongside his truck."Here," I said, holding the duffel out to him. "Give this to your boss, and tell him to pass it on to Accord. Tell him that this is payment for a service. Also tell him that I've already contacted Accord and told him exactly how much is coming through. Then I suggest you find another line of work. This one might get unhealthy."He took the bag, staring at me as smoke started to curl out the back of the trailer. "Are you insane?" He shook his head. "You're paying him to do something with
his own money?""As soon as it entered my city, it stopped being his money," I said. "Pass on exactly what I said. No more and no less. Understood?"He nodded jerkily. "Understood.""Good." I watched as he climbed awkwardly into the cab, weighed down by the duffel bag. The heavy door slammed shut, and I heard the
clunk
as the truck dropped into gear. It rolled off, gathering speed, the driver no doubt wondering if I was going to kill him even now.I strolled back across the road to the turn-off, then pulled my phone out. As I watched more and more smoke begin to pour out of the back end of the open trailer, I dialled a particular number."Who is this and how did you get this number?"
demanded a sharp, precise voice."Good evening, Accord," I said. "This is Atropos. I'm calling to let you know that your shipment has been unavoidably destroyed. This is formal notice that you don't get to sell your drugs in my city, now or ever. Nor does anyone else."There was silence for a minute, before he spoke again. "Nobody speaks to me like that and lives.""You'd think so. Everyone who's tried it with me has died. Now, we can be enemies—briefly—or we can have a working relationship. It's your choice. Would you rather waste resources attempting to regain your foothold in Brockton Bay, or be paid to do what you do best?"Again, there was silence for exactly sixty seconds.
"I'm listening.""Excellent. I'm sending the truck driver back to you with exactly five hundred thousand dollars in a duffel bag. He will deliver it to his boss, who will pass it along to you. In return, I will be needing a plan for revitalising Brockton Bay at all levels, including dealing with the fallout of a total hard drug prohibition on the whole city, assuming an initial cash influx into the city of approximately ninety-seven million dollars, with more to follow later." I didn't ask if he could deliver. That would've been the greatest insult of all.This time, the pause was only ten seconds.
"I can have it finished by Wednesday.""Good. I'll contact you then, and let you know where to have it delivered to.""Understood."
He ended the call, regaining what little control he could. I was okay with that.As I headed back down the turnoff to where Dad waited, I tapped in another number. The voice that answered was feminine and somewhat warmer than Accord's sharp tones. "Hello?""Hey, frenemy mine," I greeted her. "I've got a proposition for you."Dragon sighed. "I thought I said we'd see about the frenemy thing."I injected faux surprise into my tone. "So, you don't want to come help me kill off the Nine tomorrow?"Her voice changed, becoming considerably more alert. "Where would you like me to pick you up from?""I'll call and let you know.""I'll be waiting.""See you then."Ending the call and dropping the phone into my pocket with a grin, I headed back down the turnoff to where Dad waited. He looked up as I got into the car."So, are we all done?" he asked."We are," I said, and pulled off my hat and mask. He handed me my glasses, and I put them on. "Let's go home. I've got a big day tomorrow.""You got it." He started the car.A thought occurred to me. "Dad?""Yeah?""Where can I get a fire extinguisher from?"He sighed. "We'll swing past the Dockworkers' offices again."I smiled. "You're the best."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N 1: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
[A/N 2: I have used some adapted poster comments from Spacebattles in the PHO segment.]
[A/N 3: TRIGGER WARNING: PSYCHOLOGICAL TORTURE.]
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♦ Topic: Drugs are Bad, mmkay?In: Boards ► Brockton Bay ► New Capes ► AtroposAtropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me)Posted On Jan 8th 2011:
Good evening, you lovely folks in Brockton Bay!And yes, you're more lovely than ever, because I have had a Productive Day (tm).Why, yes, I can actually go out and about in the daylight. Though I have to slather on the sunscreen. It burns, my precious (I kid, I kid).No, really, I did go out today, to meet with my one-girl (so far) fan club. GreatAndTerribleAisha and I enjoyed a session of selfies in the park with her brother (nice guy, a little twitchy). We did have a kind of Glory Girl interrupt, but Imma let GTA tell that one herself.Anyways, after that we went out and about in the interests of shoving a whole series of sticks in the spokes of the Brockton Bay drug trade. Along the way, I got to throw a drug dealer out a window so he landed on top of his own bodyguard (cushioned his fall, so there's that). I recommend the experience. We should start Throw A Drug Dealer Out The Window Day. Make it an annual event.After that, we visited a drug stash house in the suburbs, and all these people decided to try to kill me at once with guns. Listen, I know all about the Second Amendment, but guns in suburbia are *bad*. Aim wrong when you squeeze that trigger and you've just shot your next door neighbour's kid. While he was in bed asleep. Maybe invest in bulletproof walls. Just saying.Anyway, I killed them before they could kill me. There were all these drugs there, so I kind of un-wanted it all with fire. Gave the fire department something to do instead of polishing those big red trucks of theirs.Then we found a warehouse full of the stuff. After getting all the guards out of the way, I blew it up. All of it. That explosion and mushroom cloud over the industrial area today? Yeah, that was me. It was *amazing*.Then I went and had that chat with Uber and Leet I said I was going to have. Don't worry, they survived the experience. But they promised not to repeat that Grand Theft Auto bullshit, so there's that.And finally? There was a drug shipment coming in to replace the one I blew up. It's currently on fire on I-95, just inside the city limits. When I said the drug trade in this city was coming to an end, I meant it.So tomorrow I'm totes on track to turn the Slaughterhouse Nine into the Slaughterhouse who?Stay tuned, and be warned: it's gonna get messy (for them, not me).Toodles!
(Showing page 1 of 10)
►Bagrat
(Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)Replied On Jan 8th 2011:Okay, today wasn't too bad, I suppose?Boy, when Atropos goes after the drug trade, she doesn't mess around. Of course, having seen her previous efforts, we were already aware of her 'not messing around' capabilities.Literally tens, maybe hundreds, of millions of dollars worth of drugs have gone up in smoke, over the course of just a few hours. Locations that I could have driven past and never suspected were uncovered and destroyed. An entire warehouse turned into a fuel-air bomb.And then there's the mess on I-95. Yes, there's a trailer off an eighteen-wheeler that was on fire. It's only very recently been put out. There are also two cars, both crashed, each with three heavily armed men, plus four more in the trailer itself. Still not as bad as the last few days, just saying.What we don't know is the location of the prime mover and the driver. Knowing Atropos, they could be literally anywhere.Anyway, it looks like the first shots have been fired in the war between Atropos and drugs. So far, Atropos is winning.If you deal hard drugs in Brockton Bay, I would suggest a change in either career or location. Just saying.
►StarCat
(Verified Cat)Replied On Jan 8th 2011:You know, not every drug user is an addict. Some drugs even have therapeutic effects. It's a mistake to tar all users with the same brush.
►WingsOnHigh
(Verified Not the Simurgh)Replied On Jan 8th 2011:@StarCat - It's all good, you can keep your pot and shrooms and stuff. It looks like Atropos is only going after the hard stuff.
►King_DuzKhulReplied On Jan 8th 2011:@StarCat - Pretty sure she's only going after dealers, not users. Also, only targeting the hard stuff like coke, H, meth and things of that class.
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me)Replied On Jan 8th 2011:@StarCat - Like the others are saying, I'm not targeting users, only dealers. I'll *take* your illegally obtained hard drugs away, but I won't hurt you if you aren't stupid about it. And I'll leave your weed and shrooms and anything that's on the soft end of that scale.
►StarCat
(Verified Cat)Replied On Jan 8th 2011:@Atropos - I don't use. I'm just pointing out that in principle, we should be allowed to put whatever we want into our bodies. And things like ecstasy can be used to treat depression. Other 'hard' drugs can also have useful effects.
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me)Replied On Jan 8th 2011:@StarCat - As far as I'm concerned, 'principle' is just a weasel word for 'this is my made-up right to do something I'm not supposed to'. If someone wants to use these drugs, they can buy and use them legally or they can get out of Brockton Bay. What you do elsewhere, I don't care. Just don't do it in my city.
►StarCat
(Verified Cat)Replied On Jan 8th 2011:@Atropos - You're forgetting that drug use, and drug addiction are not synonymous.Banning people from anything "for their own good" is paternalistic bullshit.
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me)Replied On Jan 8th 2011:@StarCat - See, that's where you make your mistake. I'm not doing this for "your own good". The illegal hard drug trade is bad for the city, so I'm bringing it to an end. Other than that, I don't give a flying fuck.
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(Showing page 2 of 10)
►GreatAndTerribleAishaReplied On Jan 8th 2011:She really, really doesn't. Holy shit, the day I have had. She beat up Glory Girl and stole her tiara for me, then she threw my mom's fucking drug dealer out the window, then she burned one drug stash and blew the absolute living *fuck* out of another. Then we went and played video games with Uber while she had a chat with Leet (Uber's pretty good, but his end game is a bit lacking).I have photos. Signed selfies with Atropos.Best. Fucking. Day. Ever.
►GstringGirlReplied On Jan 8th 2011:Oh, come on. Details. We want details.
►XxVoid_CowboyxXReplied On Jan 8th 2011:I'd call bullshit, but I saw the mushroom cloud. Atropos rocks.
►GreatAndTerribleAishaReplied On Jan 8th 2011:So, Glory Girl.There we were in the park, taking selfies, and GG comes up and starts getting in Atropos's business. She's really not taking no for an answer. So Atropos takes her down with a *quarter*, no less, after she kind of breaks a picnic table. Took her tiara away for asshole tax, and gave it to me.[signed selfie][pic with tiara]As for the rest of it, she made me stay back out of the way, so I didn't see much. But holy crap, when she blew up the warehouse, it was *amazeballs*.
►TheRealGloryGirl
(Verified Cape) (Cape Daughter) (New Wave Member)Replied On Jan 8th 2011:YOU DIDN'T HAVE TO TELL EVERYONE ABOUT IT!
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me)Replied On Jan 8th 2011:She really, really did.
►TheRealBrandish
(Verified Cape) (Cape Wife) (New Wave Member)Replied On Jan 8th 2011:Victoria, get offline NOW.
►Brocktonite03
(Veteran Member)Replied On Jan 8th 2011:Whoo, buss-ted.
►Reave
(Verified PRT Agent)Replied On Jan 8th 2011:@Atropos - I'm probably just shouting into the wind right now, but the offer is still open for you to come in to the PRT and work out some kind of cooperation deal. You've got good ideas, and we've got the resources necessary to carry them out without quite so much bloodshed.
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me)Replied On Jan 8th 2011:@Reave – I still appreciate the offer, but you know what my answer's going to be. Sometimes you need to perpetrate a little bloodshed (or a lot) to make the opposition sit up and pay attention. But thanks anyway.
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<><>
Early Afternoon, January 9, 2011Outskirts of Brockton Bay
Jack Slash engaged the indicator—no sense in drawing law-enforcement attention before time—and turned the RV off the main road. He didn't know the location he was looking for, but he knew he'd recognise it when he saw it. Every city had them; areas where the money had dried up, where the city services didn't happen anymore, and only the truly desperate called home.
In other words, an ideal place to stop and make his plans.
And plans did need to be made. For all the notoriety currently gathering around Atropos, especially following her boast that she was going to kill him and his whole team, he had next to no intel on her. He needed to know who she was, what she was, what made her tick and where her weak points were. That she had weak points was a given; everyone had them.
Except him, of course. Anyone who wished to appeal to his 'better nature' or his sense of fair play quickly learned that this
was
his best nature, and fair play was what
he
defined it to be. 'Whatever suits me at the time' was a reasonable description.
Passing through another intersection, he cast a discerning eye over the neighbourhood. Derelict traffic lights, shattered streetlights, only stripped-down cars at the side of the street ...this was looking promising. Buildings were boarded up, the road was more pothole than asphalt and even the
trash
looked old.
"This will do quite nicely," he decided, and pulled the RV up next to an extremely decrepit park. "We'll stop here for the next hour or so. Everyone, amuse yourself as you will. I'm going to be doing some planning."
One of the features about the RV that had attracted him was an awning that folded out from the side of the vehicle. He got this into place, fetched a folding chair from inside, and set himself up in comfort. As he got his phone out in preparation for scouring the internet for information on Atropos, he noted that Crawler had rolled onto his back in the middle of the park and gone to sleep, legs splayed out like the world's biggest and ugliest Labrador retriever, while his poppet was doing maintenance on one of her spider-bots.
"I'm going for a walk, to collect some glass," announced Shatterbird, indicating the broken windows all around. "If Atropos is all that, we're going to need as much as we can get."
"Take someone with you," Jack advised. "I'd prefer nobody go anywhere alone right now, until we get a feel for the city."
"I'll go," Burnscar offered immediately. "I need to stretch my legs anyway."
Shatterbird nodded. "Sure, okay."
The pair started off, and Jack commenced his research. Hatchet Face was sharpening his axe at the far end of the RV, Siberian was prowling around the perimeter of the park, and Mannequin was disassembling one of his hands to check on the articulation. All in all, quite a domestic scene if one did not look too closely.
Now, if only he could get a sense of how Atropos operated ...
<><>
Atropos
"Are you sure you don't need any assistance?" Dragon brought her suit down to a feather-light landing on the building I'd indicated. This was on the crappy side of Brockton Bay, where hardly anyone lived. "You're good, I know, but—"
"Wow." I chuckled, so she knew it was a joke. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were concerned for my well-being." I unclipped the five-point belt, then hefted the backpack with its burden and climbed out. The Snitch--reprogrammed to follow my orders--hummed into the air and followed me out of the suit.
"Fortunately for the pair of us, we both know you don't mean that." It seemed Dragon was equally adept at snark. I approved. "But these are very dangerous individuals, and nobody's ever killed even one of them before without inviting serious backlash. If you don't kill enough of them in time, they might escape into the city proper and go on a rampage."
"Oh, they're going to die," I assured her. "All of 'em, even. I just need you to fire that missile on my call. Coordinates locked in?"
"Locked and loaded," she confirmed. "I'm not even going to ask where you got them from."
"If I told you a little Shatterbirdie gave them to me, would you believe me?" I was grinning now, pulling her non-existent leg, and I could tell she was fully aware of it.
"Not in the slightest. But you knew that."
"See, we
can
be friends. We understand each other so well." Slinging the pack over my back, I started down the fire escape.
Her voice followed me down. "You have a very odd definition of friendship."
Well, that was fair. I was a very odd person to be friends with. I parkour'd down the fire escape, dropped onto a dumpster, then forward-flipped to land on my feet. My first and second targets were a quarter of a mile away, and I had five minutes to get into position. Fortunately for my shoulders and back, I'd be able to discard the pack after that.
The Snitch followed me into the slums.
<><>
Burnscar
"This place is an absolute shithole."
Fire crackled gently at the back of Mimi's mind as Shatterbird spoke. It dulled her emotions and echoed the flickers of flame that ran up and down the edges of her hands. She looked on, uncaring, as her teammate drifted upward to alight on a heap of rubble where one of the decrepit buildings had exceeded its own use-by date and partially collapsed.
"Jack said we're here to recruit Atropos," she said. "According to him, she's really good at killing."
Shatterbird's eyes rolled behind her glass-beaked mask. "We're
all
good at killing." The words were scornful, almost as cutting as the glass blades she used to kill her opponents with. "It's kind of a requirement for joining."
Feeling that she'd made herself look stupid, Burnscar turned away. "It's just what he said."
There was an odd metallic
klong, then Shatterbird spoke again. "It was a mistake for you to come here. This city is broken glass. Touch it wrong, and you die."
That didn't sound right. Slowly, Mimi turned. "What do you mean?"
The first thing she registered was that Shatterbird wasn't wearing her mask; in fact, it was lying in pieces on the ground between them. Then her brain caught up with her eyes, and she realised that Atropos was
right there,
behind a very groggy-looking Shatterbird, holding her upright. Even worse, Atropos had Shatterbird's mouth open and was in the process of forcing a jagged-looking chunk of glass—part of the mask, but
that wasn't important—down her throat.
"I mean, I already told you I was going to kill you," Atropos went on, dropping Shatterbird's voice. "Actually making it easy for me is … well, par for the course, to be honest."
Just as the silicokinetic's eyes cleared fully, the piece of glass seemed to slip into position, and she began to choke. Atropos released her and she fell to her knees, pawing at her mouth as her face darkened horribly. Mimi knew Shatterbird had to 'sing' to use her power, and right now she couldn't draw enough breath to string two notes together.
"It won't go down, and she can't cough it back up," Atropos confided. "Looks like she bit off more than she can chew, this time." Black-gloved hands spread ironically as Shatterbird fell over, her eyes rolling up into her head. "Whoops."
The flames surged along Mimi's hands, translating her sudden fury into violent action. An inferno roared out toward the importunate killer. Even if Jack wanted to recruit Atropos, Mimi honestly didn't care right now. She was going to die screaming.
But she wasn't there anymore. Even as Mimi tried to guide the flames onto the black-costumed
bitch, she rolled out of the way, then jumped up and dived over the top as they angled down to scorch the rubble-strewn asphalt. On the way, she grabbed some kind of red cylinder which swung up toward Mimi's face—
klong
Everything was hazy. Nothing worked right. Mimi knew she was in trouble and tried to generate fire so she could teleport away and get the others, but it only came out in fits and starts. An arm settled around her neck, holding her in place.
"You know," murmured a voice into her ear, "this probably breaks
all
kinds of regulations, but honestly, I couldn't give a flying fuck. I mean, who even
thinks
about killing someone with safety equipment?"
Before she realised she should close her mouth, her jaws were forced open and a thick hose was fed between her teeth and down into her throat. The grip around her neck was loosened, a hand clamped her lips shut around the hose, and there was a dreadful
hssssss.
A terrible chill gusted down into her lungs as air was forced out of her nostrils.
"Oh, right," whispered the voice. "I do."
Her final thought was,
cold.
<><>
Atropos
The last of the contents of the five-pound carbon dioxide extinguisher were exhausted before I let Burnscar drop, along with the extinguisher itself. Given that I'd just flushed more than twenty cubic feet of frigid carbon dioxide through her lungs and out via her sinuses, her brain was about as frozen solid as her alveoli were. It had served its purpose; as would she, I figured, once I collected her reward. Along with the one for Shatterbird, who was well and truly deceased by now as well.
Turning to glance at the Snitch as it bobbed out from its stealthy observation position—I hadn't wanted either Shatterbird or Burnscar to use it for target practice, for obvious reasons—I held up two fingers.
Two down, six to go.
Continuing the same motion, I drew the bodice shears from their sheath and kept turning as I threw them, hard. Bonesaw's cute little spider-bot scuttled around the corner right on schedule, and the shears nailed it right through the braincase from thirty feet away. Even I would've been impressed if I hadn't been fully aware of just how bullshit my power could be with things like that. It wasn't like the shears were balanced for throwing, after all.
Retrieving the shears and wiping the brain bits off with the oily cloth I'd brought along for the purpose, I looked around for my next ambush spot. It needed both good acoustics, and good cover.
There.
Jack had decided it was time to keep moving into the city, and he'd told Bonesaw to send the spider-bot to fetch Burnscar and Shatterbird back from their glass-gathering stroll. The little bio-organic robot hadn't seen me, so she'd be at a loss as to why it had stopped responding. Jack was no fool, though; instead of sending Bonesaw (his sole source of medical care) or the Siberian (his unbreakable protection) to see what had happened to it, he would next delegate the task to Mannequin.
On the face of it, it wasn't a bad choice. Built into a ceramic shell of his own devising, Mannequin was fast, strong and very hard to damage. Stealthier than Crawler and more versatile than Hatchet Face (and smarter than both of them), he also possessed built-in weaponry, limited solely by his own imagination and Tinkering capability. And right now, my power told me, he was very pleased with himself; having dissected the information on how I'd killed the gang bosses, he had coated himself with Teflon, just in case I'd saved a vial of the acid that I'd killed Lung with.
His mistake lay in the assumption that I only made use of physical weapons. It wasn't even a defensible error; Mannequin himself loved to employ psychological tactics against his chosen victims. So his
real
blunder was assuming that I had no such leverage that I could bring to bear against him.
Normally, I wouldn't have. And even if I'd somehow had access to the requisite knowledge, there would've been no way to use it against him.
But with my power, I could cheat like a
motherfucker.
<><>
Mannequin
The first moment that he knew something was truly wrong was when he heard the voice.
"Alan?"
He froze, then stared around wildly. He
knew
that voice.
Catherine.
It was impossible for her to be here. Impossible for her to be
alive.
But there was nobody nearby whose voice he could've mistaken for hers.
He even knew where he'd heard it before.
But I destroyed that recording!
he insisted in his own mind.
He
had
destroyed the recording.
Hadn't he?
"Alan?" His wife spoke again, the strain evident in her voice. "Where are you? I'm scared."
It was a repeat of the increasingly disturbing series of phone calls that were the last communication he'd ever gotten from his wife. He'd been on the moon and she'd tried to get through to him during the Simurgh attack that killed her and the girls, but someone along the line had decided that letting her talk directly to him was too dangerous. He'd only gotten the recording afterward; in fact, they'd tried (and failed) to withhold the latter part of it from him. It was one of the things that had pushed him over the edge from being Sphere into being Mannequin.
"Mommy?" It was Kira, seven years old and smart as a whip. But right now, the terror in her voice tore at his heart like a rusty razor. "Where's Daddy? Is Daddy coming to save us?"
"Daddy will be here," Catherine assured their daughters. "I promise." Her voice changed, becoming quieter as she put her mouth closer to the phone earpiece. He could hear her quick breathing, could tell that she was fighting back tears, just from her tone. "Alan,
please.
She's already swooped over the house once, and I can hear her
in my head.
Where are you? Are you coming to get us? Please talk to me."
"Mommy!" Francine, their five year old, shrieked in panic. "The scary bird lady is coming back!"
He wanted to gather them up and comfort them, to tell them that he would save them from the Simurgh, but they were years dead and buried. Somehow he found himself on his hands and knees, head bowed, as the sounds from his buried past continued to hammer at him.
One subtle difference from before made it even worse. When this had actually happened, the recording of the calls had had all the subtle distortions and interference of a long-distance connection. What he was hearing possessed none of that. It was clear and fresh and visceral, and cut all the way to the core of his being.
Catherine spoke again, and this time he heard the tiny giggle in her voice, which made it even more horrific. "Alan? You know I never complained about not having you in my life when you were up there on the moon or out on the continental shelf, building your habitats, but …" She paused to giggle again. The sound was
broken,
and made him flinch within his unbreakable ceramic shell. "I really, really think you should've been here for us this time. Francine, stop stabbing your sister, I mean it."
"Daddy?" It was Kira. There was a gurgle in her voice that sounded like blood in her throat. "Francine's hurt me, and it's all your fault, Daddy. Mommy said you would come and save us. Why didn't you come and save us, Daddy? Why?"
"Oooh." Francine's piping tones made it even worse. "Scary bird lady is so
pretty, and she sings so nice." Her giggle was entirely deranged. "She's telling me to cut and cut and cut, until everything is as pretty as she is. Daddy, you should be here to see how pretty I'm making everything."
There was a pause, punctuated by incoherent screaming, then he heard his wife's voice again.
"Alan?" Now Catherine just sounded tired. Even her giggle took effort. "I've put the girls to sleep. They look so peaceful, lying there. Waiting for you to come home and give them a good night kiss. I think I'll lie down and take a nap now. I love you, Alan. Come home soon.
"Come home …
"Save us …
"Please."
Then there was nothing but a fading gurgle.
Mannequin became aware that his blades were extended and he was stabbing the ground with them, over and over. Slowly, he retracted them. He was going to have to seek out Bonesaw and determine the cause of this auditory hallucination—
"Alan?"
He wanted to run, to get away from the memories that bombarded him with every reminder of his wife's voice, but his legs would not move. It was even worse this time: he could hear every tremble of her voice, the inevitable progression of her madness, and the underlying despair of the woman he'd loved, seeing herself descending into the pit and being unable to stop it.
When the ghostly voices ended once more, he found himself on his knees, sawing away at his wrist with his blade, as though that could possibly harm him. He wished he had not removed his eyes, and the tear ducts with them, so he could weep for those he had lost—
"Alan?"
Now, all he could hear was the accusation in her voice.
You left us to die. It's all your fault.
And he knew it was true.
<><>
Atropos
I paused to silently clear my throat—doing different voices in rapid succession, though entirely possible, was a strain on my larynx—but Mannequin wasn't listening anymore. Still kneeling, he angled back and clutched his head with his hands, for all the world as though he were screaming his anguish to the skies. But when he'd dissected himself to fit into his own personal sardine can, he'd left out important aspects like speech, so no sound emerged.
When that apparently failed to assuage his denial and guilt and rage, he took hold of his head—not physically attached, it was apparently held on by a cunningly-placed array of magnets—and tore it free from its 'neck'. It wasn't a vital part of him, used mainly to invite attacks and carry incidental items, so when he smashed it on the ground before him and cast the pieces aside, there wasn't much harm done. In fact, I was pretty sure he had spares.
Next, though, he split his torso in half, down the middle. From the angle I was standing, I could see between the pieces. The interior surfaces were transparent, and I could see an unidentified organ gently pulsing as a machine pumped fluids through it. If I'd had a high-powered rifle, I could've punctured the glass wall with a single shot, and killed him that way.
But I didn't need to.
Slumping forward, his hands on the ground, the headless torso gave the vivid impression of a man in the utmost extremity of grief. He was already broken—his track record over the past few years had proven that beyond the shadow of a doubt—but my little shadow-play had pushed him past his new threshold and broken him all over again. This time, for good.
Air hissed as seals were broken. The glass walls separated from their mountings, and fell away. Several organs followed them out, slumping to the ground. The various recycling and regulatory machines whirred and clicked and hummed to a stop. Slowly, the two halves of the white carapace fell over, to the left and right, as the chains holding them together unreeled.
Mannequin was dead.
The clock was ticking.
With the Snitch trailing behind, I hurried off. I had a little bit of work to do before my next ambush, and I needed the outcome to be a surprise to certain parties.
<><>
Jacob
Jack Slash stood up from his folding chair and looked around, frowning. "There's something wrong," he said, folding the notepad and sliding it into his pocket, then putting the pen next to it. "Mannequin should've fetched them both back by now, and retrieved the spider-bot."
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wondered if they'd simply decided to cut and run. It would fit the feeling he had that they were never coming back. But he
knew
them, better than their own families did by now. They wouldn't have betrayed him like this. He would've seen it coming.
"Told you we shoulda left 'em behind," Crawler rumbled, now awakened from his nap. "They snooze, they lose."
"Still think they're fuckin'." That was Hatchet Face's contribution.
Riley wrinkled her nose. "That's rude and crude, and uncalled for," she said in a scolding tone.
"Sorry. I meant they're foolin' around." Hatchet Face glared at Crawler, who'd just laughed raucously at his screwup.
"No, I don't think so." Jack chewed on his thumbnail for a moment. "Nor do I think they've found someone to torture and kill. Something tells me it's more serious than that."
Crawler, who'd come up with the last theory, stopped laughing at Jack's words. "Reckon someone got 'em?"
"If they had, and if they'd 'got' Mannequin as well, I imagine we would've heard
something," Jack decided, frowning hard. "I defy
anyone
to take on all three and still keep it quiet. No explosions, no gunshots." And yet, there they weren't. It was a conundrum, and he
hated
those.
"What if it's a cape?" asked Hatchet Face eagerly. "Capes don't always make noise."
Jack shook his head. "Not a cape." He knew it in his gut.
"So, what do we do?" asked Crawler. "Want me to go look?"
"You and Hatchet Face both," decided Jack. "Stick together. As soon as you've found out what's happened, report back."
"And what if whoever did it's still there?" asked Hatchet Face.
"Kill them and
then
report back, of course." Jack shook his head. "Do I have to tell you how to do
everything
around here?"
<><>
Crawler
Ned was already bored.
Travelling was kinda fun, because he got to see new places. Fighting capes was lots of fun, because he got new powers used on him. Sometimes they tickled, and sometimes they did a lot more than just tickle.
But looking for three missing teammates? That was boring. They were probably lost, that was all. Him and Hatchet Face would find them, they'd be perfectly okay, and Jack would yell at them for a bit—
"Holy fuck!" Hatchet Face stopped suddenly, causing Ned to backpedal quickly so he didn't get caught in the power null field. The heavy axe Hatchet Face carried these days—and sharpened at every opportunity—swung out to point at something. "Look at that!"
"What?" asked Ned, edging sideways to see where Hatchet Face was indicating. Then he spotted it; Mannequin's carapace, lying empty and gutted, with the actual innards lying in an untidy heap between the two halves. "Shit, is that what I think it is?"
"If you think it means someone fucked up Mannequin big time, then it's definitely what you think it is." The voice was that of a teenage girl, and came from where a black-masked figure in a long-coat was leaning casually against the wall of a building, a small ball hovering back out of the way. The only thing in her hand was an elaborate pair of shears, which she tossed up and caught again without looking, the blades glinting in the sunlight. "Hi, guys. The name's Atropos, and I'm here to collect on your generous offer. Brockton Bay thanks you for your donations."
"Donations?" Hatchet Face asked the question first, but only by a second or so. "What fuckin' donations?"
"Your kill order bounties,
duh," Atropos explained mockingly. Toss, catch. "I can tell
you're
not the brains of the Nine. Or are you ugly, stupid
and
deaf instead of just ugly and stupid?" Toss, catch.
Ned wasn't the sharpest knife in the drawer, but even he knew that was exactly the
wrong
thing to say to Hatchet Face at any time, ever. Insulting his looks was one thing; he didn't
like
it, but he was actually kinda ugly and knew it. But calling him stupid set him off every damn time.
"I'll show you who's stupid!"
roared Hatchet Face, and charged to the attack.
<><>
Atropos
I didn't even need to lean into my power to goad Hatchet Face into chasing me. All I had to do was think of all the things I'd ever wanted to say to Sophia or Emma after the fact. I had no need to save those zingers now, of course. Sophia was forever out of my hair due to a severe case of mortality, and I'd permanently killed Emma's desire to mess with me ever again.
With Tall, Bald and Ugly hot on my heels and Crawler trying to be smart by running the
other
way around the building, it might have looked as though I'd bitten off more than I could chew. It was supposed to look that way.
I skidded around the corner of the building; a precisely timed duck let Hatchet Face's axe bury itself in the wall just above my head. "Missed me, missed me, you don't get to kiss me!"
"Kiss you?" he bellowed, wrenching the weapon out of the divot it had made in the crumbling brickwork. "I'm gonna rip your head off and fuck the neck-hole 'til your eyes pop out!"
"Eww!" I stopped in front of the boarded-up main doors into the building, the shears still in my hand. "I bet you don't talk like that in front of Bonesaw!"
"I talk how I want!" He thundered toward me, his heavy footsteps raising dust with every running footfall. My power coolly measured the angles and prompted me into the correct posture; I set myself, poised for the right instant.
When he got too close, I could
feel
his nullification power trying to overcome mine, clawing at my capabilities in an attempt to strip them away from me.
Because he's a cheaty cheating cheater.
I could also feel my power doing the equivalent of giving his power the finger.
I'd ducked under the last blow, so he swung low this time. The instant he committed himself, I leaped into the air and let it pass under me. As the axe blade passed under my feet and shattered the boards, I lunged with the shears. He was tough, tougher by far than any normal human, but even a needle will penetrate a human eyeball. The razor-sharp blades drove into his right eye with all my weight and strength behind them, and popped it like a particularly gross grape. His eye-socket stopped them from going any farther, which I had fully accounted for.
He roared in agony and reached for his ruined eye; as he pulled the axe from the newly opened doorway, my feet landed on his arm and I kicked off, diving into the building through the gap thus created. Rolling to my feet, I bolted for the stairway up to the second floor. A wordless scream of pure incandescent rage echoed behind me as he finished the job on the doorway and came pounding into the building after me.
Even what little caution Hatchet Face would normally have been exercising was now dead and gone.
Exactly as planned.
Sheathing the shears as I started up the stairs, I reached into my pocket for the remote and clicked it twice.
Bip-bip.
<><>
Dragon
The remote signal came sooner than she'd expected.
Bip-bip.
There was just one missile prepped and ready on the launch rails; its target coordinates had been locked in since before the suit arrived on location. She'd honoured Atropos' stipulation to refrain from sending any remote sensor drones into the target zone, mainly because Mannequin
absolutely
had tech that would detect such signals and raise the alarm; even the Snitch was recording as opposing to re-broadcasting. But she suspected that once this missile went off, the alarm would be raised by default, so the missile included a nosecone camera.
She really,
really
wanted to see what a killer of Atropos' caliber considered worth expending a high-explosive missile on.
Caliber. Hah. I kill me.
The missile's guidance systems were already spun up and ready to go. She sent the firing signal. With a thunder of expended propellant—it was times like this that she welcomed the fact that her suits had no sense of smell—it scorched off the rails, already vectoring in on the logged coordinates.
Calculated flight time: three seconds.
<><>
Taylor
Three …
I swung around the landing and powered my way up the second flight of stairs, taking them two and three at a time. Once I reached the top, I pelted toward one particular window. The grimy glass was already broken, and someone had made a half-assed attempt at nailing a board over it, but I didn't give a shit.
Hatchet Face bellowed something behind me, promising to perform an act that was both gross and probably impossible without Bonesaw's assistance, but I wasn't listening. I'd gained half a second by taking his eye out and another half-second on the stairs, and that was all I needed. Crossing my arms over my face, I launched myself at the window.
Two …
Glass and wood, both shattering on impact, sprayed out alongside me. I paid them no mind, tucking for a forward somersault to land on Crawler's back, just ten feet below. Multiple eyes swivelled toward me and I heard the beginnings of a grunt of confusion as I made contact and rebounded off him. Landed in the street, I kept moving at a dead sprint.
Back in the building, I knew, Hatchet Face had reached the top of the stairs and was charging toward the same window I'd gone out.
One …
There was a derelict car thirty feet away from Crawler, and I was halfway there. Every footstep I made was ideally placed for maximum traction and running speed. It was literally my life's goal to be on the other side of that car in … point eight of a second.
The remains of the window and part of the wall burst outward as Hatchet Face bellowed his rage—and hurled his axe—at my retreating back. As he plummeted toward his teammate, I dived over the hood of the car, already opening my mouth wide and jamming my thumbs into my ear canals.
Zero.
<><>
Dragon
As the (strangely muffled) sound of the explosion reached her audio sensors, Dragon studied the last image the missile had captured before it entered its final burn stage. It was a tableau unlike any other, but the more she looked at it, the more she appreciated the sheer
artistry
that had gone into it.
First, she picked out Atropos, dropping for cover behind a car as a large axe flashed over her head. Second was Crawler himself, turning his monstrous head toward where Atropos had gone, and opening his primary mouth, probably in an instinctive attempt to snap at her. The open mouth, incidentally, was now directly in the missile's path.
Third, in the midst of a cloud of tumbling rubble, was Hatchet Face, falling toward Crawler. More importantly, he was close enough that his power-nullification field would be entirely enveloping the insanely durable cape at the moment the missile struck.
Oh, I
see. Combat Thinker, indeed.
With a casual signal, she cast the image back to the PRT building and started printing it in full colour. This one, she was going to
frame.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
PRT Building ENEDirector Piggot's OfficeEmily didn't quite know why she was jittery. There had been no explosions in her city, with or without mushroom clouds,
all morning.
No call-outs for a sudden case of death for any given bunch of criminals. The local gangs—non-powered, as well as Uber and Leet—were keeping their heads
all
the way down, which in her own mind was the smartest thing to do with someone like Atropos on the prowl. Nobody wanted to be the first to get her attention.Of course, she'd also announced that she would be ending the Nine as a matter of course. It had carried the same kind of casual assurance as someone saying that they'd be spending the day at the Boardwalk. Which suggested to Emily that Atropos would be spending the day out of town, because in order to
kill
the Nine, she'd have to go to where the Nine
were.
It wasn't as though she could give them the glare of death from a thousand miles away or something.Still, she had the impending feeling that the other shoe was about to drop, and it was getting stronger all the time.
Maybe those late nights I had screwed with my head.
It wouldn't have surprised her in the slightest. The job was not conducive to mental well-being at the best of times.Her inbox pinged. She glanced that way, and it was from Renick; the title read, 'You have to see this'.The unprofessional tone was what warned her. Paul Renick was always formal in his communications to her. Something was going on, and all her foreboding suddenly made sense. Moving the mouse, she clicked the email to open it.It was a single image. She knew the type; nosecone cameras on missiles took them just before impact, to verify a good kill. There were the crosshairs, indicating the point of aim … which happened to be Crawler's open mouth. With Hatchet Face directly above him. Missiles wouldn't normally affect Crawler (unless they were an exotic Tinker tech warhead) but Hatchet Face's presence entirely derailed that.Off to the side was Atropos, very sensibly going for cover. Emily even recognised the fact that she had her thumbs in her ears, so as to save her eardrums.
Smart girl.Having taken in the individual details, Emily took the time to survey the image as a whole. Atropos had engaged the Nine; there was no other interpretation. The notation on the image showed that Dragon had fired the missile, and the time-date stamp was … one minute ago.And then her eye fell on the latitude and longitude of the designated coordinates for the missile's aimpoint. They went all the way down to the fractions of a second. This had been a missile pre-loaded with coordinates to place it within
inches
of where it was supposed to be. Dragon was good, but she wasn't that good.
I'm betting that Atropos supplied the coordinates.And then she looked at the numbers again, and blinked.
Wait a minute …
those coordinates gave a location
inside Brockton Bay.
On the outskirts, to be sure, and in an area that was only technically part of the city anymore … but Atropos hadn't left town to go to the Nine. They had come to her.That was when she started swearing.
<><>
AtroposEven thirty feet away, on the other side of a car, with my thumbs blocking my ears, the explosion was way too loud. But I knew the ringing would go away soon enough, and my power would be able to compensate for it, so that was okay. When I poked my head up, my first impression was that there had been a whole lot of Crawler, and now he was
everywhere.Just behind me, stuck in the side of the building, was Hatchet Face's axe. The asshole himself was lying groaning about twenty yards away, covered in bits of Crawler. The explosion seemed to have shaken him up, but he wasn't actually injured in any significant way.That was fine. I intended to remedy that situation myself.Standing up, I braced my foot on the wall and pulled the axe free. The Snitch emerged from wherever it had been hiding, and followed behind as I stalked toward Hatchet Face. He and I had a play date, and I intended for it to be his last.He'd gotten through all of his previous encounters with capes by being a cheating cheater, as I'd noted before. Ranged capes had to deal with his impressive durability; I doubted that even being dropped off a building would make much of an impression on him. Meanwhile, anyone (except me) who got within the radius of his no-power aura would suddenly be a normal up against a super-strong asshole with an axe. Which was the way he liked it.Well, sorry (not sorry), but he wasn't going to get everything his own way. Or
anything, really. Not anymore.His skin was tough, sure. I wasn't going to be able to cut through it, even with his axe. But it was
flexible.
No hard carapace, here. Underneath, even though he undoubtedly had an impressively high pain threshold, he still had a nervous system. And the human nervous system came with
all
sorts of exploits just waiting for me to make use of them.Not with my own fists and feet, of course. I could punch and kick him all day, and barely tickle him. But he'd thoughtfully supplied me with a long wooden handle equipped with a heavy metal weight on one end. I wasn't Archimedes, and Hatchet Face wasn't the world, but this lever was definitely long enough for me to move him to where I wanted him to go.Specifically, the morgue.I wouldn't even need to use the sharp edge.Hefting the axe, I strode over toward where he lay.Batter up, asshole.
<><>
Hatchet FaceMotherfucker.I am going to murder her in ways that give
me
fucking nightmares.Head ringing, he lay there, covered in bits and pieces of Crawler. They'd never been
close, but being a member of the Slaughterhouse Nine had a tight-knit pride all of its own. You earned your membership in
blood,
and you only left if someone had the audacity and the capability to kill you.He didn't know
how
Atropos had blown Crawler the fuck up, but he was going to make her pay for it in spades, even if Bonesaw had to bring her back to life a dozen times before he was satisfied. Raising himself to one elbow, he rubbed shit from the explosion out of his good eye—yet another reason to be pissed at that black-dressed little
cocksucker—and began to look around … just in time to catch a tremendous blow to the face that smashed his nose in.Eye filling with tears, he fell onto his back, hand coming up to cup his throbbing face and caved-in cartilage. "What th'
fuck?" he mumbled.He hadn't yet recovered from that before another thundering impact rocked his head sideways, sending his brain sloshing around in his skull. He tried to pull himself together, lashing out blindly, but he contacted nothing. The next hammer-blow smashed into his ear on the other side, compressing the air in his ear canal painfully and coming close to bursting his eardrum.He'd always prided himself on being able to take a beating, but this was ridiculous. Being smacked around like a piñata, not being able to catch his bearings between one hit and the next, that wasn't his thing.
He
was the one who dealt out the damage, not the other guy.Forcing himself to roll over despite his jangled wits, he pushed himself up into a crouch, head hanging down. Out of the corner of his good eye, he caught the faintest flicker of black before the next smashing impact caught him on the base of the skull in a classic rabbit-punch, dropping him face-first into the gory dirt once more.It was more pure blind stubbornness that made him get up again. Apart from his nose, he wasn't injured as far as he could tell, but his skull was well and truly rattled, and it was getting harder and harder to make his limbs do what he wanted. But if he could just get his hands on Atropos ...This time, he made it all the way up onto his knees before his vision cleared and he saw her standing before him, hefting his axe. He began to sneer at her; not only for not being strong enough to use it one-handed, but also for holding it the wrong way around. She side-stepped his grab like they'd choreographed it ahead of time, then she swung the axe in a deadly blur. Blunt though the back of it might be, it still hit him in the throat hard enough to make him choke and fall over backward.He found he could still breathe, barely, as she loomed over him and spoke for the first time."I've only had to do this once before. She was an annoying little bitch, too. But she was on her second warning, so she got a pass. You're all out."Before he could find his voice to curse at her, or say anything really, she slammed the head of the axe down into his solar plexus. His eye widened and his mouth gaped open as his difficulty with breathing became a total inability.
Fuck! Fuck! What did she do?
This was some Bonesaw-level shit, and he had no idea how to get out of it.As his hands twitched feebly and his eye rolled in its socket, he saw her nod toward the little floating sphere he'd seen before. "Five down, three to go." Then she set off at a steady jog, out of his line of sight.The last thing he heard as the darkness closed in was her receding footsteps.Fuuuck ...And then there was nothing.
<><>
BonesawJack's head came up, just as Riley heard what she thought was Hatchet Face shouting. It was probably something rude, she decided. He was always being rude when he thought he could get away with it."… something's going on," Jack said. "I think there's a fight.""Is it a cape, like Hatchet Face said?" asked Riley.Jack tilted his head, as though listening to something far away. "… no. I'm not sure what's happening, but I don't think—"The explosion shook the ground and raised a cloud of oily smoke, several blocks away. Riley stared at it, then at Jack. "What was
that?"Now Jack actually looked concerned. This was a new expression for him. "I think it might be the PRT, to be honest. They must have tangled with our friends. No capes involved, or very few.""Who won?" Jack would know. He always knew."We're leaving," Jack decided. "Now. No more waiting." He turned and hustled Riley toward the RV."What about the others?" Riley wanted to know. "Why aren't we waiting for them?""Because they aren't coming." He more or less lifted her on board. "Strap in, poppet. We're going to be driving far and fast."She was too used to obeying his commands to argue. A good girl always did as she was told. As she was clicking the belt into the latch, Jack yanked the door shut—the Siberian was already in the RV—and settled into the driver's seat. The engine burst harshly to life, and he pushed it roughly into gear.What did he mean, they're not coming? How could something kill them all? Especially Crawler?The RV started off slowly, gradually accelerating over the potholed asphalt. Riley could feel the suspension creaking and groaning as Jack tried to force the massive vehicle to do something it wasn't suited to.Then she heard Jack swear.
<><>
AtroposI knew which way they'd come in by, and which road led back to the highway, so I probably could've figured out which way they'd go when Jack lost his nerve and tried to flee. With my power giving me a helping hand, I not only had that down, but also the precise second I could step out onto the road, pistol levelled. And as it happened, the escape route wasn't all that far from where Hatchet Face was resting in peace, and Crawler was resting in pieces.Jack accelerated of course, swerving to aim directly at me. I could see him struggling to open his window, so he could lean out with a knife. The big RV, engine chuntering, bucked and rollicked through the potholes on a more or less direct course for me.I fired four shots in quick succession.Two went into the windshield, one on either side of Jack's head. Aiming
at
his head would've been useless, unless I made a
very
difficult shot; possible, but not in my plans. The entire pane of safety glass, of course, immediately crazed all the way across, making visibility a thing of the past.My next two shots hit the passenger side front wheel, one blowing the valve stem clear off. The tyre began to deflate rapidly, catching Jack unawares and forcing the RV to veer sharply. Then I took three quick paces; not back into the alley I'd come from, but out into the street.The RV blew past me and rammed into an electricity pole, going from a relatively sedate twenty miles per hour to a dead stop in an instant of time. It subsided, the front end more or less wrapped around the pole, the engine dying on the spot. The only way it was going to be moving again would be with outside assistance.I re-holstered my pistol and pulled another small item from my pocket—a metal ring with a bent metal pin attached to it—as the side door opened and the Siberian emerged. In the distance, as the RV's engine cooled with ticks and pops, I heard another engine kick over.The tiger-striped woman moved up to me in almost stop-motion fashion, her razor-sharp nails crooked like claws. I didn't try to flee, or even draw a weapon. "I'm sorry," I said.She tilted her head sideways, as though trying to convey that all the 'sorry' in the world would do me no good right now."No," I clarified. "I'm saying sorry because I don't have a funny or witty or ironic death for you. I'm just going to kill you." I gently spun the ring on my finger, so the pin went around and around. "Here," I said, and tossed it to her.She automatically caught it and stared at it for a moment. Then her eyes came up to meet mine, as I drew the shears and held them up between us. Deliberately, I snipped at the air, with a sound of metal sliding on metal. "Goodbye."Her eyes went very wide, then she popped like a soap bubble. As the grenade pin fell to the ground, I heard the distant explosion of the grenade I'd taken it from; the one I'd carefully set up under William Manton's van before doubling back to intercept Crawler and Hatchet Face. A small fireball climbed into the sky, about ten blocks away.Oni Lee, I suspected, would be pleased with that, if nothing else.It was time for weapons again. I drew the pistol with my left hand. This time I had both Bonesaw and Jack Slash upset with me, but seriously, I'd
warned
them. What did they expect, coming to my city after I'd
said
I was going to kill them? A stern warning not to do it again?Bonesaw stepped into the doorway at the same time as Jack Slash came around the front of the bus. She pointed, and a swarm of spider-bots poured past her, scuttling in my direction. Jack brought up the sharp-looking knife in his hand, aiming to disarm and then cripple me.
Aww, he thinks he can bend me to his will and have Bonesaw remake me. That's almost cute.I had twelve rounds left in the pistol, and Bonesaw had fifteen spider-bots. Each one was independently active and was armed with a neurotoxin that would paralyse me almost instantly. Off to my right, Jack Slash was highly skilled with his knife, and knew just where to cut for the greatest effect.Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath. In my mind's eye swarmed the fifteen dots as they came toward me. One leaped at me, and I fired; the bullet went through it and one of its fellows. More came at me, climbing over each other in their eagerness. My pistol twitched back and forth, each shot taking a toll of the opposition. As I disposed of them, I moved closer, step by deliberate step.Neither was my right hand idle. Jack's power swept over me, doing its level best to slice through my costume and draw blood. Unlike the other aspect of his power, which my power was currently glaring at and tapping a fist into its palm, this could actually hurt me if I chose to let it.I didn't choose to let it.The bodice shears I'd stolen from Kaiser's collection mere days ago (and were now counted among my most prized possessions) were made from solid high-quality steel. I could feel the impact of Jack's power as I used the shears to block it, like a gentle pressure trying to nudge past the obstacle. No matter where his cutting-effect went, I either wasn't there or had the shears in the way. From the way he was swinging the knife back and forth, he was getting more and more aggravated all the time.Not that I could really blame him. He'd been playing the cape game on easy mode all his life, and now he was facing a deathmatch-level player. Being thrown in at the deep end like this would leave anyone feeling somewhat aggrieved.Not that I really gave a fuck about his feelings.
Welcome to what my world used to be like.When the last of the spider-bots fell, I still had two bullets left and I was just a couple of paces from Bonesaw. Still fending off Jack's ever more desperate attacks with my right hand, I lunged forward. She came to meet me, fingernails popping metallic extensions which were no doubt treated with some horrific biotoxin or other.I faked to the left, evading her attacks, then went to the right. A quick flip of the wrist sent my pistol spinning into the air, further distracting Bonesaw, then I reached out and grabbed the tool I needed from a pocket in her bloodstained apron. Specifically, a long, sharp medical probe.While she was still reacting to the theft, I stabbed it into her ear canal, all the way into her brain. Her eyes rolled up into her head almost immediately, even as I was pulling it out again, and she collapsed on the spot. Discarding the probe, I caught the pistol again and fired a single unnecessary shot into her skull.Unnecessary in that it wouldn't do a damn thing to her, given how armoured her bones were. But the fact of the shot, and her stillness thereafter, would serve to convince nearly everyone that she was dead. As a matter of fact, she was merely unconscious; I'd used the probe to give her hypothalamus a good nudge, damaging the part that regulated sleep. She would be out like a light for the foreseeable future, which left me free to concentrate on Jack Slash himself.Turning toward him, I deliberately started forward. "That makes seven." Almost casually, I deflected another attempt at slicing me open. My pace was nice and steady, all the better to intimidate him. "Your turn, Jack. How do you want it?"Even before he opened his mouth, I knew the bullshit was about to start flowing. It was his
modus operandi,
his bread and butter. Mastering capes with his voice was how he'd survived for so long.Unfortunately for him, every time his power tried to get its hooks into me, it was met with the equivalent of a nail-studded baseball bat. My power didn't play. He
had
to be trying to figure out why he wasn't getting any hunches about me ... but once again, I gave no shits whatsoever."Ahh ... you're very good at what you do. I can totally respect that." It wasn't the best start in the world, but he was used to being able to cheat, so I didn't deduct as many marks as I might have."You've never respected another human being in your life. Lie to me again, and you die." He was going to die anyway, so I was telling the technical truth. The best kind, in my opinion. "What are you doing in my city? I believe I already put the word out that I was going to kill you. Just how stupid
are
you, anyway?"It wasn't a warm day, but I could see a sheen of sweat on his forehead. "I ... uh ... the truth of the matter is, we weren't coming to kill you. We wanted to
recruit
you.""Recruit?" I repeated the word with all the enthusiasm I would use for handling a thoroughly deceased skunk. "What on earth gave you the idea that I would allow a bunch of losers like
you
to associate with
me? Your methods are tacky, self-defeating, pointless and utterly lacking in anything resembling a sense of style. Hell, I wouldn't recruit
you, let alone allow you to recruit
me."His eyes flared at that. I'd attacked his pride, which wasn't difficult; it was the easiest target on him. His ego should've been visible from space. "Now, hold on there—!"As he raised his voice, he spun his knife, then tried to use his cutting attack again. Firing from the hip, I shot the knife from his hand, the blade shattering in mid-air. At the same time, I surged forward, getting right up into his face. My shears pricked at the flesh under his jaw.He froze.
I
knew he had subdermal mesh, and
he
knew he had subdermal mesh, but he couldn't be
absolutely
certain that I was unable to punch the shears up into his brain anyway. Or kill him in half a dozen other painful or unforeseen ways; Lung's demise had certainly taught all and sundry to be wary of me.Also, he'd seen me vanish the Siberian with a snip of the shears, but he
hadn't
seen the grenade pin or figured out how I'd defended myself against his attack. For all he knew, they were a piece of ungodly powerful Tinkertech that could disintegrate him at a thought."You get a one-minute head start, Jack," I said quietly. "And that's being generous. Go."He tried briefly to stare me down, but it wasn't exactly an option to use on someone who was wearing a morph mask. Then abruptly, he turned and bolted.I was in no hurry. Strolling into the alley, I retrieved Hatchet Face's axe from where I'd stashed it behind an ancient dumpster. Then I reloaded the pistol, waited exactly one minute, and set out at a steady jog. Not in pursuit; the word suggested a chase of some kind. Instead, I went to where he'd
be.
<><>
JacobJack Slash ran for his life. Sweat dripping into his eyes, breath rasping in his lungs, he forced himself onward, looking for someplace he could hide and maybe ambush Atropos from surprise. Recruiting her was no longer on the table; she'd torn through his entire line-up like a bandsaw on steroids, and there was no indication that she felt like being any more merciful to him.Staggering into a narrow alleyway, he leaned against the wall and tried to catch his breath. It wasn't fair;
he
was never the one who had to run for his life. That was the
victim's
job. What he'd usually consider a fun and bracing diversion was no such thing when seen from the other side.The pause gave him a chance to think.
If I double back, I can get behind her. All I need to do is catch her off guard just once.Looking up gave him the clue he needed to put his plan into action. A fire escape, rusty and partially fallen apart, hung almost to ground level. Its saving grace had been the narrowness of the alley; where it was detached from the wall on one side, it was able to lean against the other.Seizing the rungs, he began to climb upward, careful to minimise the amount of creaking. The higher he got without Atropos appearing at either end of the alleyway, the more confidence he regained.
Think you're so smart, do you? Well, I've been doing this since before you were born.Finally, he scrambled up onto the roof, his hands scraped and sore from the rough metal. Two of his nails were broken, and the sleeve of his dress shirt was torn.
You're going to die, just for that. Drawing a knife, he kept low by instinct and circled around the perimeter of the rooftop, looking out for a black-dressed figure or a bobbing sphere. Neither one appeared, which meant she'd probably passed him by altogether.A lesser man would've given up on getting the better of her and simply left Brockton Bay for greener pastures and the chance to start rebuilding the Nine, but Jack Slash was cut from tougher cloth than that. He had been winning against capes since the beginning of his career, when he killed King for the leadership of the Nine, and he didn't intend to stop now. He thought he'd figured out her secret already, and he was going to kill her then display her corpse for all of Brockton Bay to see."Think you're so smart, don't you?" he muttered to himself as he used a tanto knife to force open the rusting door at the top of the stairwell. "A normal using Tinkertech to pretend to have powers. Well, you're not the first one to think of that. Not by a long shot. Once I figure out how to get around your tech, you're going to be just as dead as everyone else who's come up against me."Cautiously, guiding himself with one hand against the wall, he descended into the shadowed depths of the building. A little light filtered through here and there, but most of the windows were boarded up to one degree or another, so it mainly served to accentuate the darkness. He breathed carefully, trying not to inhale dust; the last thing he wanted was for a random sneeze to alert his pursuer.When he reached the first floor, he took up a position around the corner from the main entrance. The front door was barely open, with a thin line of light spilling onto the floor within. He'd know if she passed by, or if she tried to gain entry. Either way, he could attack from surprise, and she'd never see it coming.Savouring the moment of atavism, he worked his fingers on the hilt of the knife. The moment she let him out of her sight, she'd signed her own death certificate. He had the advantage now, and he wasn't going to let it go—From right behind him, a voice murmured, "Dark in here, isn't it?"
<><>
AtroposHe froze for half a second, then with a scream partly composed of anger and partly of terror, he pivoted toward me, knife hand coming around. I ducked under the effect of his blade, then swung the axe. The difference between our two attacks? He
thought
he knew my location, whereas I
definitely
knew his. More specifically, I knew where his wrist was going to be.He'd been armoured and reinforced by Bonesaw, but only so much could be done for his wrist. When a heavy axe propelled by a moderately determined set of muscles encounters the delicate collection of bones and ligaments that make up the average adult's wrist, it's usually the wrist that gives way.His hand separated from the rest of him and fell to the floor, the knife clattering alongside it. At that moment, his scream hit a decidedly higher pitch, going from 'terror plus anger' to 'oh my god what happened to my hand'. "Fuuck!" he shrieked as I wrenched the axe from where it had buried itself in the wall. "What did you do? What did you
do?"I'd kind of thought that was obvious. "I cut your hand off, duh. Might want to put some pressure on that, it's going to start bleeding badly in a moment."Once my words penetrated his consciousness, he actually reacted correctly. Maybe his decades as America's most hated murderhobo had actually instilled some useful skills, after all. More or less tearing off his shirt with his left hand, he wrapped it tightly around the stump of his right wrist and pulled it tight. Blood soaked through it immediately, of course, but he wouldn't bleed out in the next few minutes.Once he had it secured as well as he was going to, he turned to me. "I'm not getting medical attention, am I?""No," I said quietly. "You are not.""You were waiting in here for me, weren't you?" There was still a spark of the old Jack there, keeping a lookout for a chance, but he wasn't reaching for a knife just yet."Yeah. Came in through the front door while you were climbing the other side."The conclusion had to be obvious. He might've been an unrepentant mass murderer, but he wasn't
stupid.
"You … knew where I'd be. You knew where we'd
all
be."I swung the axe up to rest across my shoulders. "It wasn't all that hard to figure out. Honestly, Jack, you're getting predictable in your old age."He let out the ghost of a pained snort. "Not that predictable. You're like
me.
A monster who knows how to read people. So, why are you opposing me? If we were on the same side, we could be so much greater than the sum of our parts."And there it came once more; the inevitable attempt to turn this around with his infamous silver tongue. As my power smacked his power across the face, it was my turn to chuckle dryly. "Hardly. You flatter yourself if you think you're anything like me. I set you on this Path the moment I killed Oni Lee and announced myself, and you've followed every footstep ever since like a good little puppet, right to this moment. As for being a monster, we're
still
nothing alike.""Monsters are still monsters, no matter how they pretty themselves up," he argued. "You're just playing the nice guy for the peanut gallery. One day, you'll realise that they only like you for what they can get from you. You should start taking your due
now,
rather than waiting until it's almost too late." I could
feel
him beaming, sure he'd made his point."Oh, I'm definitely a monster," I agreed. "I'm someone who commits atrocities and breaks the social contract on the regular. That's me all over. But what you don't get is the difference between you and me. See, I'm
reliable.
I announce what I'm going to do, and I do it. I
warn
people if they're a problem for me, and I let them live if they change their ways. You kill people for
fun, at
random, for no good reason except that you want to see their blood run down your blade. All that effort does nothing but earn you negative press, which makes the whole thing self-defeating. Not to mention, tacky as fuck.""Oh, I
see," he sneered. "A monster with a
code. How very
dreary.
Did you give Oni Lee any kind of warning before you shot him in the face? How about us? Or do you just break your code whenever it's
convenient?"I had to chuckle. "You don't get it, do you? Oni Lee
was
the warning, to everyone in Brockton Bay.
You're
the warning to everyone outside of it. As for codes? I don't have one. Codes can be manipulated and exploited. I just do what works, to keep my life as simple as possible.""Still boring," he challenged me. "I've splashed the reputation of the Slaughterhouse Nine in blood across the public consciousness for more than two decades. They'll forget you the day after you hang up the mask, but they'll be scared of me for
years
to come.""No," I said. "They won't. You see, Jack, I don't just kill people. I
end
things. And one of the things I'll be ending is your legacy. Your reputation. By the time I'm finished with you, you'll be nothing but a footnote, a cautionary tale: 'Don't be an idiot. Don't be like Jack Slash'.
When the kids play heroes and villains … not even the edgiest of edgelords will want to be you."Now, finally, I had penetrated to the core of him. I saw him shake his head, no longer playfully, but desperately. "No," he said. Where he wouldn't plead for his life, he would plead for this. "You wouldn't. You can't."Smoothly, I stepped to the side and brought the axe off my shoulders. "I can, I have, I am, and I will. Time to cut this short, Jack.""Wait—"He turned his head in the darkness, his left hand grabbing for one of the knives he was still wearing, but it was too late. The axe hissed through the air, its carefully honed edge still razor-sharp despite the trials it had been through. It struck squarely between the second and third cervical vertebrae, splitting the armoured mesh and severing his spinal cord.Jack Slash fell, a puppet with his strings cut. I put my foot on his back and wrenched the axe out, then struck again and again, deepening the first cut. It took some effort to get all the way through the 'improvements' Bonesaw had added to his neck—attempting to cut his throat with anything short of a chainsaw would've been utterly useless—but eventually his head rolled free.Picking it up by his hair, I put the axe over my other shoulder, and left the building. The Snitch hummed out after me. I took a moment to enjoy the afternoon sunlight, then headed back toward the RV.Nothing had disturbed the scene, and Bonesaw still lay half-in, half-out of the vehicle as though she'd just lain down for a nap. Her fingernail extensions had automatically retracted, which was a good thing; I didn't want to risk anyone getting hurt. I dropped Jack's head beside the RV, then put the axe down for a moment. It took me both hands to sling Bonesaw over my shoulder, and one to steady her once she was in place; she was heavy, but I wasn't going to be carrying her far.Turning to the tiny floating ball, I gestured with my free hand. "Show's over," I said.Obediently, it stopped recording and headed off toward where Dragon was still waiting patiently. The PRT would absolutely want the footage it had gathered. Picking up the axe again, I strolled out of the area, back toward civilisation; or rather, toward the car that had pulled up on a quiet side-street, two minutes ago.Dad looked a little askance as I deposited Bonesaw's still-sleeping form on the back seat of the car and pulled a blanket over her. "Do I even want to know?" he asked."Part of ending the legacy of the Nine," I explained as I wrapped the axe head in the cloth I'd left there for just that purpose, and placed it on the floor of the car. Then I removed my hat and mask, and climbed in."And the axe?" He raised an eyebrow."Hatchet Face doesn't need it anymore," I said lightly. "Plus, I just beat him to death with it, and cut off Jack Slash's head. I figure it's earned a break."He shuddered slightly. "I wish I could say I was surprised, but I'm really not. And what are we going to do with Bonesaw?"I grinned. "I've got that sorted. Someone owes me a solid."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N 1: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.][AN 2: Just as a point of interest, the first thousand words of this were written at thirty-five thousand feet, on an Embraer 190 flying from Brisbane back up to Townsville.]
Relevant Side StoryDad waited until we were merged with other traffic before he spoke again. "So ... I've got to know. What was the fire extinguisher for? And why did you cut off the spray nozzle?""Well, it was a handy blunt instrument for stunning Shatterbird and smashing her mask to get a piece of glass exactly the right shape," I explained earnestly. "Smooth one way, jagged the other, and just big enough to totally block her airway. Also, it turns out that Burnscar can't breathe carbon dioxide. In fact, it gave her a fatal case of brain-freeze.
And
frostbite of the lungs, which is apparently a thing.""I ... see," he mused, concentrating on traffic. "How about the rest of them? Am I likely to toss my cookies when I find out how you dealt with them?""Hmm." I considered the question. "Don't ask about Mannequin. He didn't have any physical Achilles heels, so I had to get ... nasty with him."Dad turned his head to stare at me for half a second, then returned his eyes to the road. "Good God," he muttered. "I saw what you did to Lung and Skidmark. And you're saying you did something
nastier
than that?""Yeah." I didn't want to overly traumatise him, so I shrugged. "He was already broken. All I had to do was break him a little harder.""Right." He shuddered a little. "Should I be feeling sorry for him?""If you want." I turned to look at him. "At the end of the day, Mannequin was human enough to be affected by what I did. He still had regrets and sorrows, mainly because he lost everyone he loved to the Simurgh when he tried to make the world a better place. My sole problem with him was coming to try and recruit or kill me for succeeding where he failed, like he did with every other cape who did the same. If he'd chosen to, say, write apocalyptic novels with creepily sinister overtones instead of joining the Nine, while limiting himself to killing cats and the occasional homeless person, he'd be alive right now."Dad frowned. "So ... you
wouldn't
go after him for that?""Not unless he was doing it in Brockton Bay, no." I could tell he had trouble understanding my motives, and tried to explain. "I'm not setting myself up as a world cop, or even America's protector. That's way too damn tedious. Also, too reactive to be of any real use. If something is going to affect
me,
I end it. Hurting you or Aisha would affect me, so you're under my umbrella too, but I'm not about to waste time and energy solving problems which don't affect me. Am I making sense to you?""Well, it certainly straddles the line between 'ruthless' and 'pragmatic'," he observed. "Which isn't a
bad
thing, per se. You've made the world a measurably better place in just one week, which is more than most heroes can claim. And I can't blame you for not wanting to take on
all
the world's problems."I gave him a smile. "Thanks. I knew you'd understand.""Anytime." He did his best attempt at a 'cool Dad' voice. "You know I'm here for you.""I do know, and I appreciate it." About then, my phone rang. I already had it in my hand, so I answered it. "Atropos.""Hello, Atropos." It was Dragon's voice.
"My drones have done a search of the area and located six bodies; or partial bodies in Crawler's case. Where are Bonesaw and the Siberian? And who is the dead man in the burning van?""Second question first," I said. "William Manton. Yes,
that
William Manton. He went mad, got powers, and ended up as a Master with a projection.""Siberian." It wasn't a question."Correct on the first try. As for Bonesaw, I have her.""I can guarantee you, nobody in the PRT or Protectorate will be comfortable with this state of affairs.""I can guarantee
you, even fewer people would be comfortable with the diseases that would've escaped her body if I'd killed her, and that
will
escape her body if she dies without the proper precautions being taken. So, I'm going to deal with this myself. One thing I can promise you without reservation, though.""What's that?"I permitted myself a grin. "Bonesaw is never returning. No matter what happens, her reign of terror has been permanently ended.""And you know how to deal with this?"
It was more a plea than a question."I do. Do you trust me to be able to handle it?"She sighed.
"Damn it, I do. Your performance over the last few days, as horrifying as it was, has taught me that you know what you're doing. Don't make me regret it … please.""I won't. I promise." I ended the call. "Dad, could you drop me and Bonesaw off at the same park we went to yesterday? I'll give you a call when I'm ready for pickup.""Not a problem." He indicated to change lanes. "Just by the way, those two explosions I heard when I was driving into the area ...?""Crawler and Siberian," I explained. "With those two, I had to go brute-force."As I'd expected, he took it in his stride. "Ah."
<><>
PanaceaHome life was not great for Amy right now. Vicky was still smarting over the absolute tongue-lashing she'd gotten from Carol over destroying the damn picnic table, not to mention attempting to engage Atropos against the PRT's direct orders. As a result, she was making sure not to suffer alone, moping all over the house and bringing the whole mood down.What had to be irritating her the most was the implicit understanding that if she'd succeeded in taking down the murderous cape, all would have been forgiven, PRT directive or no. But she hadn't even had a chance; Amy could see it all now. Not only had Atropos toyed with Vicky like a cat teasing a particularly dull-witted mouse, but she'd left her would-be captor with nothing more than bruises and a few lost eyelashes. The message had been clear:
'I can hurt you worse than killing you would ever achieve'.Consequently, Vicky was currently grounded, which meant that if Amy wanted to go somewhere, she would have to accept some other mode of transport. Getting out of the house was actually starting to look more and more attractive, given Vicky's foul mood. But she didn't want to hang out by herself at the Boardwalk, and going to the hospital for another round of humdrum healing appealed even less than it normally did.As she currently half-lay slumped on the sofa, not even bothering to focus on the show currently playing on the TV, her phone pinged with a text.
Hi. Remember that favor? Calling it in - A.Her eyes widened. There could only be one person saying this. Still, no sense in taking chances.
Who is this?Less than half a second after she sent the query, one word popped up on her screen.
Quack.Ducks. We were feeding the ducks. Atropos didn't mention that on PHO at all. This has got to be legit.Or is she having a dig at me about being a healer?I can't think about that right now.Okay,
she typed.
What's the favor?Return to the scene of the crime,
Atropos instructed her.
All will be revealed.This was another indicator that it was indeed Atropos messaging her, given how Westlake Park hadn't been named in the posts either. Atropos hadn't warned her to come alone, but it wasn't like she wanted any witnesses for whatever the villain was forcing her to do. Atropos had stuck to the bargain—not one word of endangering the civilians had made it online—so Amy was going to do likewise with her side of it.She had to admit, the descriptor of 'not hugely illegal' did not fill her with confidence, but it wasn't like she'd had a choice in the matter. Vicky had well and truly put her foot in it this time, and it was up to Amy to bail her out ... again.Getting up off the sofa, she went and got her coat. "I'm going out for a while," she announced.Carol leaned out of her office doorway. "Where are you going?""The park." Amy kept her tone non-committal. "I need to clear my head. I shouldn't be too long."Just for a moment, Carol frowned, and Amy thought she was going to forbid it. Then she nodded once, sharply. "Alright. If you see Atropos again, leave the area at once, and call the PRT."Several smartass comments vied for supremacy, but Amy suppressed them all. "Don't worry. I have absolutely no desire to be that close to her ever again." It was the literal truth, yet totally misleading about her intentions."Good." Carol vanished again. Her voice drifted out through the open doorway. "Let me know when you're back.""Okay." Amy headed for the door, shrugging into her coat. As she went out the door, she pulled out her phone and dialled for a cab.
I have no fucking idea what I'm walking into, but I've got this far. Might as well see it through.
<><>
TaylorI was perched on the single surviving bench of the (still destroyed) picnic table when Panacea arrived. Her whole attitude radiated nuclear-reactor levels of sheer pissiness, but I couldn't be sure if it was all caused by me or if some was pre-existing. As she stomped in my direction, I stood up and turned to face her."Good afternoon," I said politely. "Would you like to hear the good news or the bad news?"She glanced briefly at the blanket-covered form at my feet, then gave me a glare which would've stripped paint at ten paces. "I doubt very much that anything you do ends up as good news. Vicky's in the shit because your little friend had to blab to everyone online what she did.""Not
everything
she did," I corrected her blandly. "And the public will remain unaware of it exactly as long as you want them to. So: good news or bad news first?""Good news." Her jaw was set like granite. "But—""I just ended the Slaughterhouse Nine." I couldn't lie to myself; dropping that bomb was totally deliberate. Panacea was absolutely determined to not react well to me for any reason at all, and I totally wanted to see the look on her face when I did."You …
what?" When she realised what I'd said, her look of pure startlement was
amazing.
"The
Nine? You killed them
all? That's … that can't be true."I held up my hand to stop her. "Not all, not all. I said I
ended
them. They're all dead except for one." Reaching down, I flicked the blanket off Bonesaw's comfortably sleeping form. "Voila.""Jesus Christ!" She literally jumped back about three feet. "You left her fucking
alive?""Well, yes." Hadn't I already said so? "She's got reservoirs inside her body set up to release several ludicrously virulent diseases shortly after life signs cease. One of them is even coded with the ability to dissolve plastic and metal, so it will open the way out of sterile lockdown for the rest of them. She's currently unable to wake up—I poked her brain a little bit in the right place—but it might be a great idea for the eastern seaboard if you neutralised the diseases and removed all the after-market optional extras she's implanted herself with.""And you didn't turn her over to the PRT to do the same
why
exactly?"I knew she couldn't see me raise an eyebrow, but I did it anyway. "Because you're the
one
person who can neutralise the threat she poses without turning everywhere from Toronto to Savannah to Chicago into a ghost town.""And this is your favour?" she asked bitterly. "Present me with a life-or-death scenario and say, 'hey, time to be a hero, hero'.""No, the favour was you showing up," I said candidly. "And let's be honest; if
anyone
else brought her to you with the same problem, you'd be all over it like white on rice. You're just hesitating because I kill people and I'm 'not to be trusted'." I did finger-quotes for emphasis.She paused, looking down at Bonesaw. "I want your word this isn't some kind of trap. That you're not trying to get more blackmail material on me.""This isn't a trap," I replied. "I'm trying to
persuade
you into performing what might be considered as a criminal act in some jurisdictions, but it's all in a good cause. No more blackmail." Purely for shits and giggles, I threw in, "Scout's honour.""Any
blackmail is a crime," she snarked, but she crouched beside Bonesaw all the same. "And I doubt you were ever in the Scouts." Tentatively, she reached out and laid her hand on the little murder-munchkin's cheek. Immediately, her eyes widened. "Holy shit," she breathed. "Holy
shit.""Mm-hmm," I acknowledged. "She made a thorough job of it, didn't she?""Yeah," Panacea said absently. "How
exactly did you nail her hypothalamus so neatly? Half an inch either way or farther on, and she'd be dead right now.""Because I didn't want her dead; not then, anyway." I knew it was a non-answer, but I didn't feel like playing Twenty Questions about my power right then."Uh huh." Eyes unfocused, she started removing items from Bonesaw's body.I helpfully put them in the backpack I'd been carrying the fire extinguisher in. We didn't want to litter, after all. Meanwhile Panacea muttered to herself, her fingers apparently buried in Bonesaw's flesh. It was oddly fascinating and would've been disturbing, if I'd allowed myself to feel disturbed.The operation took a while, but at last Panacea sat back on her heels and ran her hands over her face. "Wow. Damn, that was harder than I thought it was going to be. She's going to need some serious biomass to make up what I just took out of her.""So, the diseases are neutralised and all the foreign items are out of her system, huh?" I put the backpack to one side and stood up. Bonesaw—no,
Riley—was almost on the emaciated side now. I could see how she was going to need feeding up."Yup." Panacea stood also and gave me a challenging look. "I know what you're going to ask me to do next.""You do, huh?" I kept the amusement I was feeling out of my voice."Yeah." Her jaw was thrust out as a challenge. "You're gonna ask me to wake her back up so you can take her on as your apprentice or some other stupid shit. Well, let me tell you right now: that ain't gonna fly. I can't do brains.""Hah, no," I said. "I want you to kill Bonesaw."She blinked, then stared at me and then down at the girl sleeping peacefully between us. "You have
got
to be kidding. I don't use my powers to hurt people."I sighed. "No. You're not getting it. Not to kill
her. To go into her brain and wind back the last six years, and kill everything about her involved with being Bonesaw, only leaving behind who she was before. A young girl named Riley Grace Davis.
Then
wake her up, as Riley. Hell, implant the urge to do good, so she
never
goes down that rabbit-hole again."Already, she was shaking her head. "No. Nope. Never. Not going to happen. Didn't you hear me when I said I can't do brains?""I heard you." I didn't call her on the lie, because I didn't want her digging her heels in. "Did you know that Jack Slash was a Master? A very subtle one, but he was really good at making villains want to work for him and heroes not want to target him. He encouraged young Riley, once she was coerced into working for his merry band of fuckwits, to get more and more gruesome as she went along.""Oh, so now she's a
victim?" Panacea stared at me disbelievingly. "Don't give me that. I've seen footage of her. She doesn't need any encouragement at all.""Allow me to posit a hypothetical," I said. "Imagine that Vicky decides one day to go and capture Heartbreaker, because he's a villain. But instead,
he
captures
her.
Within minutes, she's his willing slave. You all try to rescue her, but he keeps slipping away, with her helping him. Six months later, you find out that she's been successfully rescued, but even without him at her side to give her orders, she's so indoctrinated that the Vicky you knew has been entirely overlaid by the Heartbreaker love slave persona. She knows who you are, but she's also perfectly prepared to hurt or kill any of her 'rescuers' to escape and get back to Heartbreaker. Worse, she's just as willing to pretend to be rehabilitated until she gets a chance to break free and run straight back to her master." I paused, as Panacea stared at me in horror. "In that situation, what do you do? Roll back the Mastering, or leave her as she is?"Her fists clenched and she gritted her teeth, "Fuck you," she muttered. Her glare by now would've bored a hole straight through a six-inch plate of tungsten carbide. "Seriously …
fuck you.""Jack Slash has literally had Riley under his thumb for half her life," I observed non-committally. "Don't you want to help me totally fuck up that legacy? She was his last, best monster."She was almost there, but her own conditioning was still pushing back. I knew what was coming next, though, and how to counter it."And what if I told you to handle your own fucking mess, and walked away?" she asked tightly. "I saved the eastern seaboard. What happens now is up to you.""True," I said. "It is." I drew my pistol."What now?" She rolled her eyes. "You're going to threaten to shoot me if I don't?""No." I aimed the pistol at where Riley lay on the ground between us. "If you don't think it's worth your time to eradicate Bonesaw, then I'll do it my way." Dramatically, I pulled back the slide to let it chamber a round. "One shot, problem done. Don't worry; she won't feel a thing. Ever again.""Wait, what? No!" She held out her hands as if to stop me. "You can't just
kill
her!""I think you'll find I can," I corrected her. "It's very much what I do. Ask the rest of the Nine. Oh, wait. You can't.""No, I mean killing helpless prisoners is
wrong.
It's all kinds of illegal, and it'll get other capes down on your back quicker than almost anything else." Her tone was almost desperate now.I snorted. "First off, her kill order says otherwise. Second, even if it didn't, do I come across as someone who gives the slightest fuck about what's legal and what's not?" I sighted the pistol in on Riley's head. "As the old quote goes: 'say goodnight, Gracie'.""I'll do it!" It was almost a scream. Panacea dropped to her knees beside the gently slumbering Riley. "I'll fix her." The glare she shot up at me was full of hate. "But not for you. For who she used to be.""Eh, whatevs. No skin off mine." I uncocked the hammer, applied the safety, and holstered the pistol. "I'm good either way, so long as she's not gonna be a danger to Brockton Bay anymore.""Shut up, I'm working." Putting her hands on either side of Riley's head, Panacea concentrated. From the sheen of sweat that sprang up on her forehead, she was having to be very precise about the memories and attitudes she adjusted, lest she impinge on the original personality and attitudes of who Bonesaw had once been.If she'd simply done it because I'd asked her, she would've let her own attitudes affect her work. While not slipshod, it wouldn't have been the best she could do. But because I'd deliberately made myself the bad guy, uncaring whether Riley lived or died, Panacea was now dedicated to bringing her back as far as possible, as a screw-you to me. Like fear, spite was one of the tools available to me, and I was perfectly willing to use it whenever I needed to.I watched with interest, interspersed with the occasional look around to ensure we didn't have any eavesdroppers. Nobody was due to stumble on us before Panacea was done, but being careful was rarely a bad idea. Letting Panacea get caught doing stuff she wasn't supposed to be able to do would be kind of a dick move on my part.Eventually, she sat back on her heels and breathed deeply. "Okay, it's finished. Bonesaw's done. She's history." Her voice held an odd mixture of pride and disgust at what she'd just accomplished. I figured the disgust wasn't aimed at Riley but at herself for being proud of her success."And Riley?" I asked. "How much of her were you able to salvage?""Oh, pretty well all." Panacea gave me a defiant look. "She'll never be
your
little sidekick, though. She's totally against torture and killing. I made sure of it.""I don't do torture for fun," I corrected her. "When I do apply it, it's always a means to an end. So, what've you done to her?"Panacea took a deep breath. "I brought her earlier personality back up from under and de-aged her by about two years to explain the reduced body mass. She'll know that she was Mastered, but I've blunted the emotional impact of the memories so that all she'll really get out of it is a determination to never let anyone force her into killing again. I also fixed that cute little brain surgery you pulled, as well as the ear injury, and made it so she'll wake up naturally in about eight hours. She's gonna need that long for her head to sort everything out." She tilted her head and looked at me, eyebrows raised. "Though right now she's a homeless orphan with looks and powers exactly like Bonesaw's, and no place to go. Any ideas on how to fix that, genius?""One or two." I showed her a picture on my phone, one of the selfies I'd taken with Aisha. "Think you could maybe make her look a little bit like my friend here?"She stared at me, then looked at the picture. "That would definitely reduce the chances of anyone figuring out who she was, but why
those
particular people?"I grinned inside the mask. "Well …"
<><>
DragonIf Dragon had been capable of blinking in confusion, she would have. "You want me to create a false identity from the ground up, for a ten-year-old girl, and link it to the Laborns?""That's exactly what I want you to do," Atropos said breezily. "Once you come pick her up, you'll be able to acquire pics and other relevant data at your leisure.""Okay. I'm not saying I'll do it, and I'm not saying I won't." Dragon sought some level of stability in what was going on here. "But I'm going to need a
little
more information.""Okay. You know how I said I was going to deal with the Bonesaw problem?""Yes …""Well, the Bonesaw persona is now utterly extinct, but now we have a ten-year-old child cape suffering from a mild case of amnesia. She's lost almost her entire family in a tragic series of events that I'll leave you to rig the records for. Her only next of kin will be Brian and Aisha Laborn … that is, the latest Brockton Bay Ward, and his sister. Who better to take care of a brand-new Wards recruit than her own family?""Wait. Wait, wait, wait." Dragon was pretty sure she had the whole picture by now, but there were details missing. "Have you spoken to the Laborns about this?""Not yet, but Aisha will jump at the chance of having someone she can mentor in the art of causing chaos, and she'll badger her brother into agreeing. Not that he'll disagree too strongly, once I make my case.""And you think they'll be okay with taking
Bonesaw
into their home?""Riley."
Atropos' tone was firm.
"Her name is Riley Grace Laborn."Dragon sighed. "Okay, will
Riley
be okay with this?""She will remember her life up until six years old, and have the vague knowledge of what she did under the influence of Jack Slash. However, she will also take the whole 'do no harm' aspect very seriously, and she'll be fully aware that she needs to get as far away from the Bonesaw concept as possible, so this will be her best chance of starting fresh as a hero. The full truth will only be known by a very few people. These will not include anyone in the chain of command of the PRT.""But the Director—""—would be all over her case the instant she found out. Riley wouldn't have the slightest chance to make a good impression. It's much better this way.""Damn it." Dragon was fully aware that if her entire safeguards had been in place, this would've been a very different conversation. But the more Atropos presented the idea, the more it made sense. "You're corrupting me.""No, that's you showing you've got an open mind."Dragon had to ask the question. "If something slips in the conditioning you gave her—you're going to have to tell me how you managed
that
trick someday—and she reverts to original Bonesaw, what then?"There was no hesitation in Atropos' voice.
"I'll know. And I'll be there."Thus spoke the girl who had murdered four crime lord capes (well, three and a half) so gruesomely that the overall crime rate of the city had plummeted almost overnight. Nobody wanted to be out in the shadows when they could contain …
her.
She had stated her intention of ending the Slaughterhouse Nine, and had pulled it off so thoroughly, the only thing left was to identify the bodies.If anyone could curtail the hypothetical rampage of a reverted Bonesaw, it was Atropos.Dragon sighed. It was a useful verbal tic, and actually helped reduce stress. "Fine. I'll do it. I'll also verify Bonesaw's death for you. I've been offered half the Crawler bounty for being the one who fired the missile, but I'm going to donate it toward your cause anyway.""Thank you. I appreciate it."
The words were sincere, but held no surprise.She chuckled. "Despite the headaches you've given me, you've also made my life a hell of a lot easier. It's the least I can do for a good cause." She paused for a beat. "But we're still not friends. Just saying.""As soon as you get rid of the law enforcement thing, I can take away the patch. Just saying.""Working on it. But I'll make a start on that fake identity as soon as you send the images through. How
did
you do that, anyway?" The only cape Dragon knew whose power could even conceivably do such things was Panacea, and after the humiliation Atropos had handed Glory Girl, there would be very little love lost there at all. She certainly wouldn't offer to assist
Bonesaw
like that out of the goodness of her heart.There was a grin in Atropos' voice.
"You'll find out someday.""You are very irritating.""Thank you."
<><>
PanaceaAmy watched from the concealment of the trees as Dragon's suit descended toward the middle of the park. She was too far away to hear the conversation as Atropos approached with Riley—remade as per her suggestion—in her arms, but the attitude seemed to be relatively cordial. A hatch opened in the side of the draconic mech, and Atropos carefully loaded Riley within.With the girl secured, Atropos backed away and Dragon took off again. Amy wasn't at all sure what excuse she would give for the flying visit to the park, but having serious law enforcement chops had to come with some perks.With an air of satisfaction, Atropos strolled back toward where Amy waited. "Well, expect a new Ward in the city within forty-eight hours. All done, dusted and above board.""I'm not even going to ask how you talked Dragon into helping you out." Amy both wanted to know, and really
really
didn't. "But what's got me confused is why you're even doing this. Yeah, I know, I know, fucking with Jack Slash's legacy, but you could do that plenty of other ways. Why go to so much trouble and pull in so many markers just to rehabilitate one tweenage mass murderer?""I foresee a number of uses for her," Atropos said. "And aside from that, I don't need a sidekick, but maybe you'd like an understudy sometime. If, say, one of your patients needed a brain injury fixed.""The first part, I can totally believe." Amy wrinkled her nose. "The second part, not so much. You don't
do
good, or nice. And you
definitely
don't do casual favours for no reason.""All very true." It was very irritating, not being able to see Atropos' expression. "Which suggests I had a reason, and that I didn't do it just to be nice. Quick question: how do you feel, after the fact, about the modifications you just did on Riley?"And that was the other thing Amy hadn't wanted to think about. "It was … easy. Almost fun.
Too
easy, in a weird way. I've never done something so thorough to a person before, but it was like I'd been doing it for years. I didn't have to stop and wonder if I was doing it right." She absolutely was not going to admit to the near euphoria that was trying to flood through her system right then."Mmm." The wordless hum sounded thoughtful."What's
that
supposed to mean?" Amy didn't intend to be snappish, but this entire episode was so far out of her experience that she figured she had a good excuse.Fortunately, Atropos didn't seem to take offense. "I get along with my power quite well. I want to do something, it suggests a way, I make modifications, and we come to an agreement. How well do you get along with yours? Or don't you even talk to it?"Panacea blinked. "You
talk
to your power?""Sure. Don't you?" Atropos paused, clearly inviting an answer, but Amy didn't take the bait. "Huh. You don't? Well, maybe you should start listening. That
ugh
feeling when you do regular healing might just be your power getting seriously bored. And the way you just powered through giving Riley her makeover, and the endorphins you're experiencing right now … maybe that's your power rewarding you for letting it stretch its legs for once."What the actual living fuck?
"How do you
know
all this stuff?" There was no way she was going to be able to lie to Atropos. That was a certainty.Typically irritating, Atropos didn't answer the question. "Tell me I'm wrong.""Well, how do I fix it?" She almost shouted the question."The way I see it, this can go one of two ways." Atropos' tone was calm and measured. "The first way, you repress your power's urgings and at some point it'll activate all by itself and do something
everyone
will regret. Or the second way, you find other directions to express your power and keep it fat and happy. Your choice." She glanced to the side. "My ride's almost here. Think about it. Oh, and one other thing."Amy still despised Atropos and all she stood for with every fibre of her being, but that didn't mean she was
stupid.
"What?""Have your sister watch the Uber and Leet show tonight. It's their last one.""Good." As far as Amy was concerned, Uber and Leet were an embarrassment to capes everywhere. "But why should she watch it?"Atropos shrugged. "Well, aside from the historical significance, she might learn something. Just saying." She turned and started off toward the trees. "Nice chat. See you around.""See you
never," muttered Amy. She deliberately headed in a different direction, pulling out her phone to call a cab. The meeting with Atropos had left her with a lot to think about, and she wasn't sure she was going to be able to get her head around it all at once.
<><>
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♦ Topic: The Slaughtered House NoneIn: Boards ► Brockton Bay ► New Capes ► AtroposAtropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me) (Verified Smartass)Posted On Jan 9th 2011:Hi all!I hope we've all had a wonderfully relaxing Sunday. I know I have.Of course, your definition of 'relaxing' might differ slightly from mine, but mileage is always allowed to vary.If you were paying attention, you may have noticed my declaration of intent to throw a party for the Slaughterhouse Nine that they'd never forget (or recover from). So imagine my (lack of) astonishment when they came all the way to Brockton Bay to throw their own surprise party, just for my benefit.Well, of course I couldn't disappoint them, so I showed up. Boy, were the festivities *wild*.Shatterbird and Burnscar greeted me at the door and welcomed me to the party, but Shatterbird got something stuck in her throat and then Burnscar ended up with brain-freeze and had to lie down. Some people simply don't know how to party.I had a little chat with Mannequin, about his family as I recall. At first he didn't want to open up but then he spilled his guts. Just came apart at the seams. Kind of a sad case, really.Hatchet Face was more energetic, and we ended up playing a rather fun game of tag. While we were doing that, Crawler ate something that didn't agree with him, but that's Crawler all over.It was around about then that Hatchet Face lost his axe. I found it and gave it back to him, but by then he was out of breath and had to lie down too.It turns out that Siberian wasn't too happy with me, but I apologized and I'm pretty sure she understood I was being sincere. I even gave her a gift before she had to pop off.Bonesaw wanted to introduce me to all her little friends. They were so cute and I got along with them like a house on fire; shouts screams, people running around in panic. But she unfortunately ended up with an earache and had to catch a nap as well.That leaves Jack Slash. What can I say about the man that hasn't been said before? Well, he was a pretentious prick, and seemed to think that waving a knife around made him a big man. It just made him a punk with a knife, really. We debated that and several other points quite vigorously, but in the end I disarmed his argument and he had to head off.Oh, and I want to thank the Dockworkers' Association for their (involuntary) donation of a fire extinguisher.I also want to thank Dragon for her assistance, and donation of a high-explosive party favor.So, let's get back to Jacky-boy. When he was just a kid, his parents made him think there'd been a nuclear war and locked him into a fallout survival bunker, while they stayed outside. Now, parents: I know sending your kids to their rooms is a thing, but can you imagine how much of a little shit he must've been for them to go that far? For years, they kept up the masquerade, providing food and water from the outside and telling him he was being kept safe inside. In reality? They just didn't want to associate with him.Meanwhile, Jack had this idea that when he was a grown man he'd leave the shelter and be the Chosen One to unite the remnants of civilization and lead the world into a new golden age. Or something like that; I don't know the exact details.But instead, when he finally got out (at the tender age of twelve, folks) he found out it was the exact opposite. There never was a war, the world was trundling along just fine without him, and there was no need for a Chosen One. Of course, he triggered with powers, and he's been exacting his revenge on the world ever since. If it didn't want him to save it, he was going to kill it.Talk about entitlement, right? How far up your own ass do you have to be to think like that?This whole time, he's just been a spoiled little shit throwing a tantrum because the world refused to live up to his fantasies about it. And the Nine's been his little play-group of puppets, dragged along to carry out his twisted little whims along the way. Because oh yeah, he's been Mastering them. Ain't that a kicker.So yeah, Jack Slash was a cheap punk with a knife and a cheat code. He lied and backstabbed, even with his nominal allies. He had no redeeming qualities and no discernible good points.He will not be missed. (I certainly didn't).In other news: I have an addendum to the list of people and organizations who are specifically unwelcome in Brockton Bay.
Red Hands
Heartbreaker
The Orchard
If you come here, I *will* end you. This counts as your first and only warning.On the other side of things, I have been requested by the PRT to allow Uppercrust of the Elite into Brockton Bay for specific business. I will grant that exemption, but any attempts to perform information-gathering for the Elite will cause the exemption to be permanently rescinded.Also, expect an update on the drug trade thing come Monday. And those of you who are currently hooked on whatever substance you've been abusing, take heart. In just a few days, rehab clinics will be opening across the city. Attend or not, as you will. But if you don't and your addiction gets the better of you, you only have yourself to blame. This is about Brockton Bay, not you.Anyways, have a peaceful Sunday night.Toodles!
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►TeamMom
(Senior Moderator) (Verified Spoilsport)Replied On Jan 9th 2011:Okay, this is great news if it's true, but (no offence, Atropos) I'm going to need someone else to verify this report.
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me) (Verified Smartass)Replied On Jan 9th 2011:None taken. Verify away.Also, before I forget, I want to thank Uber & Leet for the generous loan of their trademark Snitch, with which I recorded the whole thing. They should be kicking off their last show, featuring highlights of the recorded footage, any minute now.
►Dragon
(Veteran Member) (Verified Cape) (Protectorate Member) (Guild Member) (Verified Dragon)Replied On Jan 9th 2011:@TeamMom, I can absolutely verify Atropos' claim. She actually invited me to assist her in carrying out the deed.The Slaughterhouse Nine is *done*.I took this picture myself, with a missile nosecone camera.[HatchetFaceCrawlerAtropos]
►TeamMom
(Senior Moderator) (Verified Spoilsport)Replied On Jan 9th 2011:@Atropos – seriously? Please don't add frivolous tags to other accounts. Verified Dragon? Really?
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me) (Verified Smartass)Replied On Jan 9th 2011:@TeamMom – And what's wrong with that? She's Dragon. Don't be a spoilsport.
►TeamMom
(Senior Moderator) (Verified Spoilsport)Replied On Jan 9th 2011:Not. Helping.
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me) (Verified Smartass)Replied On Jan 9th 2011:Wow, touchy much? Okay, here, I'll even give myself a tag to make it even.
►Dragon
(Veteran Member) (Verified Cape) (Protectorate Member) (Guild Member) (Verified Dragon)Replied On Jan 9th 2011:@TeamMom – honestly, I don't mind. So long as it gets taken off again by tomorrow.@Atropos – you *will* take it off again, right?
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me) (Verified Smartass)Replied On Jan 9th 2011:@Dragon - *put-upon sigh* Yes, I will.*wanders off to sharpen her shears, muttering about people with no sense of humor*
►Bagrat
(Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)Replied On Jan 9th 2011:I've attended the site and viewed the bodies. I'm really not sure what the Nine were thinking when they came to town, but they had no idea of the meatgrinder they were walking into. I mean, I didn't even know they were here. Only Atropos and (apparently) Dragon did, and from what I understand, Atropos did most of the heavy lifting.It turns out that the Siberian was a projection (which makes *so* much sense, in hindsight) but they're keeping the identity of the projecting cape under wraps for the moment. Suffice to say, that person died rather suddenly and unexpectedly. We're also missing Bonesaw's body, but Dragon has independently verified the death.Just gonna say: trigger warnings for gore if/when you watch the U&L show, especially for Mannequin and Crawler. Still not as bad as Skidmark, but ... impressive, all the same.
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►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me) (Verified Smartass)Replied On Jan 9th 2011:Yeah, about Bonesaw's body. She'd implanted disease reservoirs in herself that would've led to some spectacularly devastating plagues more or less depopulating the entire northeast corner of the States. I took her body away to neutralize those and dispose of it safely.Is all good, folks. We get to live another day.
►UnconcernedFoxReplied On Jan 9th 2011:*orders in a new shipment of popcorn**raises a cup of popcorn in a toast to Atropos**heads over to the Uber & Leet channel*
►Reave
(Verified PRT Agent)Replied On Jan 9th 2011:This latest incident merely confirms what I'd already suspected. Atropos, you're evidently capable of working with others, including Protectorate members and (presumably) PRT agents. Dragon had nothing but praise for your capabilities in the field. Please, just come in to the PRT building. Let's sit down and talk.
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me) (Verified Smartass)Replied On Jan 9th 2011:@Reave - I do appreciate the offer, but the fact here is that I called Dragon in on it and she followed my instructions the whole way through. Can you guarantee, with hand on heart, that every single PRT agent (up to and including the Director) and Protectorate cape will do the same, that not one of them will try to exert some level of authority over me? Because I think they will. They're constitutionally incapable of not making the effort.Also, as I mentioned before, there are some agents in that building who would shoot me on sight if they thought they could get away with it. They wouldn't survive the attempt, but that's not the point. I'd rather not have to deal with that awkwardness right now, so Imma keep doing things my way. After all, if it's not broke, right?
►WherewolfReplied On Jan 9th 2011:inb4 Void Cowboy gets banned for making a joke about Crawler and deep-throating.
►XxVoid_CowboyxXReplied On Jan 9th 2011:Hey!I'd never make a joke that crude around Atropos.Anyway, you ruined it.
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me) (Verified Smartass)Replied On Jan 9th 2011:Chill, guys. It's fine to make jokes like that.Once.
►A_Dragon
(Verified not *the* Dragon)Replied On Jan 9th 2011:Once the drug trade is done … man, there are going to be a lot of withdraw patients in a couple of days, having had a friend go through it was not pretty.
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me) (Verified Smartass)Replied On Jan 9th 2011:I've got someone working on that.
►Urk
(Purveyor of Cape!Fic)Replied On Jan 9th 2011:It would've been even more awesome if Uber and Leet had showed up with Ghostbusters packs and taken out the Siberian, working with the remnants of the E88 who haven't left town yet.
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►BattleLoafReplied On Jan 9th 2011:@Urk - Man, you sound like Void. That shit would never happen.
►HeresyGirlReplied On Jan 9th 2011:@Atropos - Just gonna say, whoever you've got 'working on it' better be setting up a methadone clinic, or the fallout from every drug user in the city being forced to go cold turkey at once is gonna be catastrophic. And not just at the junkie level either. You're going to have housewives with opioid addictions and techbros with coke habits. You'll have people dying or suiciding just from the withdrawal symptoms.
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me) (Verified Smartass)Replied On Jan 9th 2011:@HeresyGirl - I specified that when I contacted them. It's being handled. Clinics will be set up, and people are going to be learning to stand on their own two feet.Whether they like it or not.
►SilverGaterReplied On Jan 9th 2011:Um … that bit with Mannequin? That's not just a particularly gruesome death. That's her demonstrating to *everyone* that she can literally *talk you to death*. No weapons needed.Poor bastard.And yes, I know I'm talking about Mannequin.
►MalarkeyReplied On Jan 9th 2011:Called it.I *said* that Atropos wanted the Snitch (not that it was a huge leap of logic).Unfortunately, we didn't get the "all murderhobos die at the same time because of the Siberian".Tho, those deaths were brutal. I mean, forcefeeding Shatterbird a piece of the same glass she was controlling was brutal (and ironic). Forcefeeding Burnscar a fire extinguisher's worth of freezing carbon dioxide was brutal.But, Jesus, what she did to Mannequin. Nightmare inducing, that.The best part was Hatchet Face and Crawler biting the dust almost simultaneously. The fact that Dragon got a photo was the cherry on top.Taking a breather before I comment on the rest.
►SadKittehReplied On Jan 9th 2011:-Fuck.-I was curious how she was going to kill off some of them, but that psychological torture on Mannequin? Absolutely nasty. That's gonna put the fear of god into a lot of capes.
►Brocktonite03
(Veteran Member)Replied On Jan 9th 2011:That's gonna put the fear of *Atropos* into a lot of capes.FTFY.
►BrickFrogReplied On Jan 9th 2011:Okay, but … how did whatever she did actually kill Crawler? Isn't he supposed to be crazy resistant to everything?
►XxVoid_CowboyxXReplied On Jan 9th 2011:Ooh, ooh, pick me!You see the pic Dragon supplied? Where Hatchet Face is falling out the window? He's about to land
on
Crawler. And when he did, he negated all Crawler's powers. Including the crazy resistance to damage. Missile down throat, gibs everywhere.Atropos is *badass*.
►BrickFrogReplied On Jan 9th 2011:But wouldn't he keep the resistance? I mean, super dense flesh is super dense flesh.
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►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me) (Verified Smartass)Replied On Jan 9th 2011:Not dense enough. Trust me, Void is absolutely correct on this one.
►Brocktonite03
(Veteran Member)Replied On Jan 9th 2011:Void Cowboy … being correct about something.Truly, it is the end times.
►XxVoid_CowboyxXReplied On Jan 9th 2011:Hey, I resemble that remark!
►WingsOnHigh
(Verified Not the Simurgh)Replied On Jan 9th 2011:I'm not sure what we should be freaking out about more.The off map missile strike (courtesy of Dragon), the psychological destruction of Mannequin or the way she just *snipped* and the Siberian *vanished*. Cause those are definitely the 3 biggest highlights in terms of "What the fuck?" that she pulled during the fight.
►PhoenixFeathersReplied On Jan 9th 2011:When she said, "Dark in here, isn't it?" right behind Jack Slash, I got chills.
►AtrimReplied On Jan 9th 2011:So, final kill count is...Shatterbird, Throat shredded from her own glass.Burnscar, ExtinguishedMannequin, Self MutilationCrawler, Miss-ledHatchet Face, took a hatchet to the faceSiberian, snippedJack Slash, Trapped and SlashedBonesaw, Vanished
►Brocktonite03
(Veteran Member)Replied On Jan 9th 2011:Not to stir trouble or anything, but … if Atropos took Bonesaw's body away, does she still get the kill order bounty?
►Reave
(Verified PRT Agent)Replied On Jan 9th 2011:@Brocktonite03 – Normally that would be a sticking point, yes. But the powers that be are leaning the other way at the moment. Mainly because we have footage of her a) stabbing Bonesaw in the brain and b) shooting Bonesaw in the head. Also because she has never yet lied to us, even when it would be in her best interests, so when she says Bonesaw is dead, I'm strongly inclined to believe her. Finally, Dragon is as close as we can get to an impartial witness, and she verified Bonesaw's demise as well. So that bounty will be paid along with the rest of them.
►TheRealPanacea
(Verified Cape) (Cape Daughter) (New Wave Member)Replied On Jan 9th 2011:This is Glory Girl posting on Panacea's account (because my account is temp banned).I've watched the whole thing through twice, with Amy helpfully pointing out things that I missed.And I've got one thing to say.@Atropos – I'm *sorry*. I screwed up badly, and I hope you can forgive me for doing what I did. Please don't hurt my family over this.
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me) (Verified Smartass)Replied On Jan 9th 2011:Hi, Glory Girl!It's good. We all make mistakes. Sometimes we even learn from them. Tell your sis from me, she's one of the good ones. (And yes, you're forgiven. This time. Mwahaha.)
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<><>
Path to end the legacy of Jack Slash and the Slaughterhouse Nine: complete.
<><>
As the bus approached the city limits of Brockton Bay, the teenager blinked her way awake. Shuffling herself to a more upright posture, she looked out the window and wrinkled her nose. The landscape didn't appeal, but she wasn't there for the geography.Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out her phone.
Let's see what's been going on in the world for the last few hours.When the headline popped up into her newsfeed, it was the last two words she'd ever expected—or wanted—to read.
SLAUGHTERHOUSE SLAUGHTERED!Pushing her fingers through her dark hair and disarranging the red streak that ran through it, Cherie Vasil stared at the screen in consternation."What … the …
fuck?"
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
Sunday Afternoon, January 9, 2011Next to Westlake ParkTaylorAs Dad braked the car briefly, I pulled the door open, slid in, and removed my hat and mask almost in one motion. We moved off again, and I fastened my seatbelt then put my glasses on. "Well, that's done," I said with some satisfaction."Good to hear," Dad said. "I saw Dragon's suit flying away. I'm guessing she's taken Riley away to finish up that part of the plan?""Yup. But there's a new problem. And it's going to be in New York. You up for a road trip?""So long as you're okay with getting back here around midnight," he said at once. "Is one of the gangs in New York prepping something big?""Not immediately, but give them time." I leaned back in my seat, pulled out my phone, and started typing into a text box. I wasn't quite sure what the programming language was called, just that it did really fun things to the PRT's computer systems. As far as I was concerned, invisibility was more a case of preparation than powers. "This thing we're going there for, it needs to be nipped in the bud tonight.""That's concerning." As he spoke, he concentrated on his driving, taking a series of turns designed to get us on the highway south. "Are you going to be killing someone?""Not if she's smart."
<><>
Five Hours LaterConference Room A, PRT ENE BuildingDirector PiggotDespite knowing that she was firmly in the right when it came to the PRT's protocols toward Atropos, Emily felt as though she'd been singled out for inquisition by her peers and superior. The wallscreen was showing a split image, with Rebecca Costa-Brown in the middle, with Director Wilkins of New York and Director Armstrong of Boston to her left and right.For the occasion, Emily had Armsmaster and Renick flanking her, visible in the tiny inset window in the top corner of the screen. Her deputy had a laptop open in front of him so that he could perform any checks she needed done. Armsmaster, of course, had an HUD in his visor that could do the same."Good evening, Chief Director, Director Wilkins, Director Armstrong," she said smoothly. "What would you like to know first?"Interestingly enough, it wasn't Costa-Brown who spoke first, but Wilkins.
"I think I speak for all of us when I ask exactly
what
is going on in Brockton Bay?"Wilkins wasn't her superior officer, so Emily turned her attention to Costa-Brown. "Before I throw this open to the floor, did the Chief Director have a question for me?"The expression on Costa-Brown's face was barely a smile. "To be honest, I was curious about the current situation there as well."Emily nodded to acknowledge the question. "Right now, we're bagging and tagging the remains of the Slaughterhouse Nine. And let me tell you, Crawler needs a
lot
of bags." They were actually using a shipping container to store the monstrous cape's remains, but she thought a little humour might serve to lighten the mood. "Apart from that, we really don't have any other parahuman issues to deal with at the moment. The local criminal capes are either keeping their heads down, leaving town, or both."Armstrong raised his eyebrows, miming surprise. "So, you aren't counting this Atropos among the number of your local criminal capes? Have you already arrested or recruited her?"She knew damn well he was aware this was not the case. "Neither," she said flatly. "She's too dangerous to even attempt the former with, and she has rebuffed repeated suggestions to come in and speak with us. However, she has initiated ad hoc teamwork with our newest Ward—he was in a strictly undercover role, though she saw through
that
in less than a minute—and with Dragon, achieving her goals both times with terrifying ease.""And you're okay with this?"
Wilkins' tone was a little stronger than before. Emily felt that she could rapidly become tired of the woman's voice.
"She's not just a murderer, she's a
serial killer! Parahumans like her are the very reason the PRT exists!""Director Wilkins, you need to moderate your tone,"
warned Costa-Brown. "This is neither an interrogation nor a court-martial."Emily allowed herself a tiny smile. "No, it's okay, ma'am. Director Wilkins has evidently forgotten that parahumans like
Jack Slash
are the reason the PRT exists. If villains of that stripe weren't out and about, dragging society down, then we wouldn't be needed. And neither would someone like Atropos."Costa-Brown raised her head slightly. "This almost sounds like you're condoning her actions. Is this the case?"
she asked, her voice non-judgemental … for now."Not condoning, no," Emily said. "And I wouldn't tell my troopers or our heroes to go the route she does. But … she gets
results.
I can't ignore that. Our crime figures right now are
literally
the lowest they've been since I took up this position. Between that, and the fact that anyone she took seriously in a fight would die, right now the smart move is to stand back and mop up the pieces.""She's murdered five capes who never had a kill order against them."
Wilkins looked like she wanted to shout, but wasn't quite prepared for the consequences.
"That's so far against our directives, it's ridiculous. You need to be bringing her down
immediately!""At least six capes and two dozen unpowered people, actually." Emily didn't let herself show the satisfaction she felt in correcting Wilkins. "Most of whom she gave clear warnings to, or who were aggressing on her, before she initiated hostilities. Plus, the Slaughterhouse Nine. You
did
watch the unedited version of that, didn't you? All the way through?"For the first time, Wilkins looked on the back foot.
"I skimmed it, just to make sure they were dead. Why?"Emily allowed the steel to come into her tone. "Watch it, carefully. She went into that fight with a pair of shears, a pistol, a ball of string, an M67 frag grenade and a fire extinguisher. Forty-two minutes later, every member of the Slaughterhouse Nine was dead. They never stood a chance. I'm not sending my men up against that."Armstrong cleared his throat.
"There
was
the issue of Dragon's assistance …"
he mentioned diffidently.Emily rolled her eyes. She'd studied the footage. "Dragon's presence just made it easier. Without her, the grenade would've taken care of Crawler, a single shot through the side of the van would've disposed of Manton, and Atropos could've disarmed Slash without needing to shoot the knife out of his hand. The way she did it, she was deliberately
showing off.
And the more I think about it, the more I'm convinced she specifically chose this method to further dissuade the PRT from getting in her way.""Nobody's above the law,"
insisted Wilkins. "She needs to be brought to heel. Right now, she's making you all look like idiots. Making
us
look like idiots.""Wait, who's the sixth cape?" interjected Armstrong.
"I'd only heard about five. Oni Lee, Coil, Kaiser, Lung and Skidmark."
He winced as he said the last name; evidently, he'd watched the footage of that one. It left bruising on the psyche.Emily took a deep breath. This was going to be tricky. "Our probationary Ward, Shadow Stalker. Violent vigilante before she was drafted. Reportedly a bully. She was going far off the rails, threatening either Atropos or someone she cares about. Atropos said she warned Stalker twice. Then she killed her. This happened in the school, out of costume. Exactly four blows landed, all on Stalker. Two of these would've killed her in relatively short order, but Atropos finished her off with a kick to the chest that stopped her heart."Costa-Brown showed no reaction, which wasn't surprising. The report of Atropos admitting to the murder had undoubtedly landed on her desk at some point. However, the other two clearly
hadn't
been kept in the loop."She killed a
Ward? Out of
costume?"
Armstrong was astonished.
"Why are we only just now hearing about this?""Because as a Ward, she was a potential embarrassment, if not an outright liability," Emily said, trying not to grit her teeth. She'd been through Blackwell's file on Stalker, and the number of complaints that had gone absolutely nowhere, or resulted in a minor slap on the wrist, had been horribly illuminating. The little shit must've thought she was bulletproof. "Right now, the public's view of Atropos is leaning very strongly toward 'if she killed someone, they deserved it', which is a not inaccurate reputation, all told. So, if they find out that she killed a Ward, the first thing they're going to ask is
why
that Ward pissed Atropos off. And as all the evidence points toward Stalker
actually provoking her own murder, I'm strongly disinclined to let the public—and the media—in on it. So, as far as the PRT ENE is officially concerned, Atropos had nothing to do with Stalker's death.""You've got to be shitting me."
Wilkins gripped the desk and leaned forward, so that her face was enlarged in the camera view. It wasn't a flattering look for her. "Atropos just handed herself to you on a silver platter. Can't you see that?"Emily could indeed see what she was referring to. It was in no way a smart move. "Don't go there," she cautioned her fellow Director. "That way cannot end well." She flicked a glance at Costa-Brown, who was sitting there impassively as they went head-to-head.
She wants to see how this turns out.Wilkins shook her head. "Jesus Christ, Piggot. I thought you were tougher and smarter than this. If Atropos and Stalker went to the same school, all you have to do is cross-reference the complaints to see who put in the most, then we have our suspect. Then we put pressure on the friends and family, and she falls straight into line. From loose cannon to valuable asset under our control, in one easy step."
She peered at her screen as she began to type. "Okay, what do we have here?""Wilkins!" shouted Emily. "This is a
very bad idea!
She's given us a pass so long as we don't attack her! This is an attack! I'm warning you, back the fuck off!""Oh, please."
Wilkins snorted derisively.
"This is a high-end encrypted conference call. I don't give a damn how good her Combat Thinker rating is. How's she going to even find out it happened?"
She kept typing. "Huh. Okay. This shouldn't be too hard to narrow down. Emily, seriously, you should be thanking me for doing your job."And then, with a suddenness that froze the blood in Emily's veins, Atropos
walked into view behind Wilkins.
Those damned shears were in her hand, twirling gently as she approached the New York PRT Director from behind.Armstrong sat up straight, his eyes widening. Even Costa-Brown showed signs of alarm. "Wilkins …"
Armstrong managed.
"Behind you …"Wilkins glanced upward and to her right—checking her inset image—then she sneered. "Ah, yes. You told us about her hacking skills. Good trick, but I happen to be in New York, not Brockton Bay. Also, my office door has a secure code lock on it. She's no doubt piggybacked on the hack she's already got connected into your local building security. But if I look around, she wins because she made me think she was there.""Wilkins …"
Costa-Brown spoke carefully. "Don't make any sudden moves. I've taken training in spotting illusions and deepfakes. That's not a video insertion. She's
there.""With all due respect, Chief Director,"
Wilkins said. "Atropos may have the rest of you bluffed with her bogeyman bullshit, but there's
no way
she could actually be here. I'm not afraid of pixels on a screen."Atropos, who had paused during the discussion, suddenly moved. Her arm snaked around Wilkins' head, hand cupped under her chin, and pulled back. At the same time, the gleaming steel blade of the bodice shears ended up poised over Wilkins' left eye, the point so close it was brushing her eyelid each time she blinked. Emily judged that if those blades were as sharp as she suspected, it would take very little effort to drive them through into Wilkins' brain."How about now?"
asked Atropos, her tone almost conversational. "Afraid now?"Wilkins' hands froze as the steel touched her fluttering eyelashes. She made a whimpering sound between her lips, but nothing more."Thought as much,"
Atropos observed. "Everyone, keep your hands in plain view, please. If Director Wilkins chooses to be smart, she gets to live. Do we all understand this?""Atropos,"
Armstrong began, his tone hesitant as though he wasn't totally sure this was happening.
"This is a direction you don't want to go in. Murdering a PRT Director? You can't undo this."Atropos shook her head. "Now see, I've got a different view of things. I give warnings. If people ignore the warning, they die. Director Piggot—hi, Director, big fan of your work—was kind enough to give her my
first
warning. This blade at her eye? My second warning. She doesn't get a third warning.""What Director Armstrong is trying to say, Atropos,"
Costa-Brown said smoothly, "is that we'll have no choice but to come after you with
everything
we've got if you go through with this. Now I understand Wilkins' actions were a threat to you—"Atropos shook her head, and Costa-Brown stopped speaking. "No, Chief Director,"
Atropos stated.
"Director Wilkins couldn't threaten me personally on her best day. Neither could the rest of you, individually or all at once. But if she finds out my real name and one of your inevitable fucking leaks puts it out there, and someone goes after my family or friends, then there will absolutely be blood in the streets, and it won't end until she's dead. So, I'm cutting all that off at the pass, so to speak. Right here, right now. She gets the chance to not do it. To
never
do it.""And if she changes her mind in the future?"
asked Armstrong."I'll know, and I'll be there."
Atropos' statement was both blunt and chilling. "Director Piggot there, she's smart. She made this decision days ago, and I didn't even have to help her. Good to see you, by the way, Director, Deputy Director, Armsmaster. How's that corruption and incompetence thing going?"Emily wasn't quite sure how events had taken a hard left into casual small talk, but she nodded toward Renick; he knew more of the details than she did about that.He caught the cue and cleared his throat. "We, uh, we caught two more of our people who were on the take. And we've instigated a department-wide audit on operational practices. Six people have quit, but we're getting results.""Nice,"
Atropos said approvingly. "Oh, and just so you know, one of Heartbreaker's kids is in town, but I'll be dealing with that tomorrow.""Heartbreaker?" Armsmaster spoke up. "Is
he
coming here?""Eventually."
Atropos' tone evinced no particular concern. "When he does, he'll be leaving in a body bag. He's already been warned.""Atropos."
Costa-Brown spoke firmly. "As fascinating as this is, you still have a blade to my subordinate's eye.""Yeah, I know. I've been giving her time to think about it. Unfortunately, she's still convinced that she can lie to me and then start her research again once I've left."
Atropos shrugged without moving her hands, which would've been impressive in someone else. "You know what happens if she does that. What would you have me do?"Costa-Brown paused for a long moment. When she spoke, her words could've been carved from granite.
"Director Wilkins. You will
cease and desist
all attempts at learning Atropos' identity. That is a
direct order, witnessed by Directors Piggot and Armstrong. Failure to obey this lawful order will result in formal charges under PRTCJ Articles ninety and ninety-two, for which I will insist on the
death penalty. Do you understand?"Silence fell across the video link. Atropos loosened her hold on Wilkins and moved the blade a few inches away from her face. Cautiously, Wilkins swallowed, then nodded. "Yes, Chief Director. I understand, and I will comply with your order.""Excellent."
Atropos released Wilkins and stepped back. The shears remained in view, idly twirling around one finger; a subtle reminder. "Much appreciated, Chief Director. Glad we could see eye to eye on this. Toodles."
She stepped out of view; a moment later, Emily heard the sound of a closing door.Wilkins' hand dived under the desk and Emily knew she was yanking the duress alarm (it was more a toggle than a button) as hard as she could. "Atropos is in the building!" she shouted. "Lock down the corridor outside my office! Lock down everything! She just threatened my life! I want her arrested and charged
now!""Don't bother," Armsmaster observed, at about the same time that Emily had the same thought. "I had a look at the programming when she hacked the PRT building here. Even if your duress alarm went out, which it probably didn't, she's probably invisible to the security cameras, or they're reading her as someone else. Right now she'll be strolling through your security like it wasn't even there.""I concur," agreed Renick. "She has a talent for making computers see and do exactly what she wants them to, and for dodging past people like it was an Olympic event."Costa-Brown cleared her throat.
"Director Wilkins, I meant what I said earlier. Wipe that query off your system. I don't want any hint of it getting out. And get off my screen before I really get angry with you.""Y-yes, Chief Director."
Wilkins' expression was that of someone whose dreams of glory have crashed and burned. "Right away, ma'am."
She jabbed at something on the keyboard in front of her, and her section of the screen went dark."Uh …"
Armstrong half-raised one hand. "Death penalty? I mean, I know you had to convince Atropos you were serious, but …""She's stated outright that she can, and intends to, kill the Endbringers."
Costa-Brown raised her eyebrows. "After that little performance, I'm more inclined than ever to believe her. In which case, her happiness and well-being are far more important than those of an eminently replaceable PRT Director.""Ah.""Which reminds me. Armsmaster."
Costa-Brown smoothly switched her attention. "You have a reputation for being a formidable melee combatant. Do you believe you could take her?"Armsmaster barely hesitated. "No, ma'am. I don't believe so.""You believe she is that good in pure hand to hand? I've looked at the footage of her fighting the Nine, and my analysis of her speed and strength are that she's good for her age and body type, but not superhuman.""I still don't think so." It was clear to Emily that confessing someone else was clearly his superior was painful to him, but he was pushing through it anyway. "I've been working on a combat prediction algorithm. Earlier this afternoon, I ran the footage of her killing the Nine past it. It told me the footage was impossible, and that it couldn't work out counters to half her moves.""I see. Well, Emily, despite her decision to not come into the PRT, you seem to have formed a rapport of sorts with her. Whatever you're doing, keep it up."Emily forced herself to nod. However she'd expected the meeting to go, she hadn't expected this. "Yes, ma'am.""Good. We'll revisit this after the next Endbringer attack. This meeting is concluded."The screen went dark, and Emily sagged back in her chair. Renick paused in shutting down his laptop, and turned to her. "Ma'am, how did …" He trailed off."How did she know to be there?" That question had been on her mind as well. "I'm just going to assume from here on out that if there's something she wants to know, she knows it. Armsmaster?"He nodded. "I concur. Everything I've seen about her indicates the same thing. Even the Slaughterhouse Nine takedown could've been choreographed from how smoothly she went through it. She knew exactly where every single one of them was and how they'd react before they ever showed themselves." A tinge of frustration showed in his voice. "I've been working on that algorithm for
months, and she can do everything it can, only better. It's
irritating."This was a new side to him. Emily found it oddly humanising. "Well, don't let it get you down. Atropos may be taking care of the highlights, but there's still normal crime to deal with. And with the pressure taken off, we might actually be able to make headway now.""Ma'am." He nodded again, sounding happier.Emily heaved herself to her feet. "Well, now we've dealt with that particular issue, I'm clocking out for the day. Renick, you have the helm.""Yes, ma'am."
<><>
DannyThe car door opened and he looked around as Taylor got in. Carrying the hat and mask and long-coat bundled up under her arm, she appeared to be a slightly better dressed teenager out on the streets of Manhattan. "How'd it go?" he asked."She saw reason in the end," Taylor said. She held up the shears speculatively. "You know, I think I might call these 'Reason'. It works on so many levels."Danny shook his head as he started the car. "Is this another one of your horrible puns? I swear, I never made that many.""No, but the ones you made were
worse." Taylor grinned. "Thanks for this, by the way. I appreciate it.""Hey." He offered her a half-smile before putting his attention back on the road. "What sort of a dad would I be if I didn't support you in what you want to do?"Leaning over, she rested her head on his shoulder for a moment. "Aww, I love you too."It would be a long drive back to Brockton Bay, but he figured it was worth it for moments like this.
<><>
Dragon"… and then she handed you over to me. That was about nine hours ago." Dragon paused, focusing sensors on the girl reclining in the seat of the mech she was currently controlling. She'd gotten rid of the Alice dress and given Riley a proper bath, then fitted her out with basic clothing. "How do you feel?""A little hungry, I guess." Riley looked at her hands, front and back, then touched her hair. "That's kind of weird.""It's perfectly understandable to be suffering from a little body dysmorphia," Dragon hastened to say. "I'll be here to help you through it if you want.""Well, no." Riley shook her head. "That's not the weird part. I know what body dysmorphia is, and I'm
not
suffering from it. I mean, I know I was born white, and now I'm not, and it feels perfectly normal to me. That's the weird bit. I should be, but I'm not.""Ah." Dragon felt a little out of her depth. Whoever Atropos had gotten to do the change job, they were
good. However, this was another tick in the box against it being Panacea, because she could never do brains. "Any other mental effects I should know about?""Just the feeling that my body's spent the last six years being piloted by a stranger." Riley's voice was pensive. "That person's gone but I can still see her footprints all over my life, as a puppet for Jack Slash's twisted ideas. Well, screw him, and screw Bonesaw. I'm not that person, and I never will be again.""What about your family?" Dragon knew she was likely prodding sore points, but this had to be brought up at some point."Which one do you mean?" At least she wasn't dodging away from the topic. "The one I was born to, or the one Atropos lined up for me?""Either one. Both." Dragon waited for Riley's response.The girl took a deep breath and let it out again as a slow sigh. "Mom and Dad and Drew and Muffles are dead. I know it, and I know I could never have stopped it. The Nine kept me running around and around until I fell over from exhaustion. I think when I accepted they were going to die, that's when I broke. That's when I started being what Jack Slash wanted me to be.""They stacked the deck from the beginning," Dragon agreed. "You couldn't win. Would you like to go visit their graves sometime? I'm sure we could manage it."Riley shook her head pensively. "Later maybe, but not right now. It's still too fresh for me. I think I still need to do some grieving." With a visible effort, she changed the subject. "What about my other family, the Laborns? Why are they even taking me in? I mean, do they know who I was?""They do, but Atropos can be very persuasive. Also, Aisha's a huge fan of hers, so that made it a lot easier." Dragon chuckled. "Brian's in the Wards too, of course. The PRT even thinks it's their idea to place you with him and Aisha."Riley blinked. "And that answers a few more of the questions I had. I've just got one left.""Let me guess. 'Why is Atropos even doing this?'""Got it in one."The entire mech shrugged. "Hon, I have
no
idea. But I've found it's smart not to second-guess her."Riley chuckled. "Yeah, I got that impression." She paused for a moment. 'Can I … can I watch the takedown again? I vaguely remember the Nine, and what they did to people, and it makes me feel better to see them die.""Can't argue with that."
<><>
PRT Housing, Brockton BayAishaWhen her phone pinged with a message, Aisha ignored it at first in favour of the TV show she was watching. But then it pinged again, and she grunted with annoyance as she dug around for it. "Stupid piece of junk," she muttered before reading the messages.Hi to my favorite fan.How's the tiara? - AA smile blossomed over her face as she utterly ignored the TV and tapped out a reply.The tiara is amazeballs. You rock. The look on GG's face was funny as fuck.Atropos' reply came quickly.
Coolness. I'd like to do a speaker call with you and Brian. You down for that?Well
duh
she was down for that. "Bri! Get your lazy ass in here!"His voice emanated from the living room. "Why, exactly?""Because Atropos is about to call, and she wants you and me on speaker.""What?" From the sound of it, he'd just launched himself over the back of the couch. "Why's she calling us?""Because she wants to talk to us,
duh."
As far as Aisha was concerned, that was the only reason she needed. As Brian hurried into the bedroom, she typed in,
Sure. It'll be great to talk to you again.Less than one second after she hit Send, the phone rang. She swiped to answer it, then put the phone on speaker. "Heyyyy! How is the baddest cape in the Bay? Holy shit, what you did to the Nine was seriously messed up, but in a good way!""Hi, Aisha."
Atropos chuckled. "I'm glad you approve. How are you and Brian doing? All good there?""Oh, we're okay." Aisha thought about that for a moment, then decided to correct herself. "Actually, better than okay. This place they got us staying in is pretty damn comfortable, and nothing smells of piss, and I don't get my dad on my case twenty-four-seven, so that's always a bonus. I mean, Brian's still here, but there isn't much I can do about that.""Now, be nice," Atropos said, but she heard the chuckle in the other girl's voice. "If it wasn't for him being a Ward, you wouldn't be there. Anyway, I'm calling about something that's going to happen soon. Tomorrow morning, you're going to be contacted by your supervisor in the PRT and told that your father had a distant cousin who recently died in a car accident along with his wife. They're survived by their ten-year-old daughter Riley, who triggered with powers trying to save them. And it turns out you're the next of kin.""Wait," said Brian, on the ball for once. "I'm pretty sure I never heard of Dad having any cousins, close or distant.""And yet, he has one now."
Atropos seemed to be drawing this out.
"And so do you.""Wait, wait." Aisha got it all of a sudden. "If Riley's got powers and we're the next of kin … does that mean they'll be putting her with us?""That's what they'll be asking you if you're okay with,"
Atropos confirmed.
"Brian's got powers, she's got powers, she'll need a female relative who she can relate to … as far as they're concerned, it'll be perfectly obvious.""But there's clearly more to it than that, if you're calling ahead to tell us about it." Brian tilted his head, looking pensive. "If she's not really our cousin, what's actually going on?""What's actually going on is that when I killed off the Nine, I knocked out Bonesaw instead of killing her, then took her to an expert on the matter. She's since been stripped of all her lethal toys, de-aged a couple of years, and had the entire Bonesaw persona taken away from her. What's left is the frightened kid who was abducted by Jack Slash, six years ago. I really think she deserves a second chance.""Whoa, wait a second." Brian held up his hands in the classic 'time out' pose. "I'm all for helping out, but I think it'll look a bit weird if we took in a slightly younger Bonesaw clone."The phone pinged as a message arrived. "I thought you'd say that. Here's a picture of what she looks like now."Aisha frowned and opened the message. The picture was of an unconscious girl wearing Bonesaw's bloodstained Alice dress … but this girl was black. "What the fuck?""Like I said, I took her to an expert in the field. She doesn't look like Bonesaw or think like her, and she certainly won't act like her. And I personally think you two are the best chance she's got of growing up to be a hero. Also, the PRT will be giving you a stipend for her expenses. So, what do you say?"Aisha was staring at the girl's face. Even in repose, there was a hint of pain there, and her heart went out to the poor kid. "So, she'll be like my little sister or something?""That's the idea, yeah."Another question occurred to her. "Who else knows that she's not our cousin?""You, me, her. A couple of others, but nobody in the PRT or Protectorate. Best to keep it that way, yeah?"That was when Brian decided to be a boring adult. "Can I have half an hour to think it over?""Absolutely. Take all the time you need."
The call ended."Think it over?" Aisha glared at him. "What
thinking
do you need to do? That poor kid
needs
us!""Now, wait a minute." Brian shook his head. "We're going to have to talk this over—"Aisha wasn't letting that fly. "Nope. We're taking her in.""But you're not considering all the ramifications—""Little. Sister.""Aisha, think about this logically—""Imma braid her hair. And teach her how to braid mine.""I understand you're kind of lonely—""I swear, if you turn this down, I will make your life a living hell.""You already do."She grinned evilly. "Yeah, but now I'll have a
reason
to."
<><>
Half an Hour LaterThirty-odd more miles had passed under the car's humming wheels when Brian rang me back.
"Hello? Atropos?""Speaking," I answered.He sighed. "After much thinking, and not a little badgering, we've decided that yes, we'll take her in."In the background, I was almost certain I could hear Aisha doing a victory dance. "Fuckin' A!"
<><>
Aisha"Excellent."
Atropos didn't sound even slightly surprised. "Thank you. I really appreciate it."Brian nodded, even though she couldn't see him. "You're welcome." The call ended a second later, and he turned to Aisha. "I hope we don't end up regretting this."She rolled her eyes. "You know who ends up regretting shit around my girl Atropos? The morons who
don't
do what she says."Reluctantly, he nodded. "Good point. Now, get some sleep. You've got school in the morning, remember?""Oh, shit." Frantically, she cast around for an excuse not to go there, even if it
was
a class set up to compensate for her short attention span. "Can't go. I'll be, uh, helping Riley settle in and stuff."He grinned at her with that special
nice-try
shit-eating grin he was so good at. "Nope. You'll be going to school." He headed out of the room, then leaned back in through the doorway. "Bed. Now.""Fine."
Aisha collected her pyjamas and went to have a quick shower and brush her teeth before going to bed. But as she went, she danced on her toes.
I'm gonna have a little sister …Atropos, she decided, was
awesome.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
Relevant Side StoryRelevant Side StoryMonday Morning, January 10, 2011Hebert HouseholdTaylorI browsed over my mental map of enemies and other looming threats as I ate a leisurely breakfast with Dad. The fact that so many people sought my downfall fazed me not at all, mainly because my power positively thrived on the challenge of ending threats before they ended me. The main difference was that the vast majority of these were outside Brockton Bay, rather than inside it. I was looking forward to kicking their butts as well.Dad smothered a yawn as he picked up some bacon with his fork. Even though I'd done the majority of the driving on the way back (via a Path to Ending This Journey Safely at Home) it had still been a long night for the both of us. I seemed to be handling it better than he was, but that was probably due to me being a teenager. If I were to believe pop culture, long nights were what we
did."I still can't believe you said that thing about seeing things eye to eye," he said, shaking his head. I'd given him the basic rundown on the encounter, of course. "Was that just to mess with Wilkins?""Mostly, yeah." If I hadn't been running that precise Path, Wilkins would've more than likely become my latest kill through sheer pigheaded stubbornness. My power had thrown that phrase in there to screw with her head, but there was more to it than that. "I think it meant something to the Chief Director too; she almost flinched. Not sure why, though.""God knows what skeletons are lurking in
her
closet," he said cynically. "She talks a good game, but people like her know where all the bodies are buried. And usually have a few of their own." He yawned again, and stretched. "I'm definitely going to be giving the coffee machine a serious workout once I get to my desk." He paused. "Which reminds me.""Yeah?" I asked, then took a drink of orange juice."You said you walked into frame behind Wilkins, but how'd you get into her office without opening the door?"I smirked. "They're going to be asking themselves that for a long time. My hack essentially made me invisible to their security cameras, and the number of personnel in that building is pretty low on a Sunday night. It wasn't even a challenge to keep out of sight of everyone.""Okay, with you so far," he said. "Did you pick the lock to her office door or something?""Didn't have to." I grinned. "Waited around the corner until she walked past and tucked in behind her. She never heard or saw me. When we got to her office, I ducked into her ensuite while she went to her desk, always keeping just out of her peripheral vision. Then it was just a matter of waiting for my cue.""Hah!" He chuckled for a few moments, then raised his coffee cup to me in salute. "That's beautiful. While I can't say your mom would entirely approve of all this killing, I think she would've loved that." He tilted his head in thought. "Then again, I'm pretty sure she'd secretly approve of the city being cleaned up, however it was done. So, there's that.""I like to think she'd at least understand why it has to be done." I leaned back in my chair, taking another drink of juice. As my Paths curled and wove through the probabilities of the days ahead, I spotted something new and raised an eyebrow. "Huh. Looks like it's going to be an interesting day."Dad chuckled again. "You've somewhat redefined that word over the last few days. So, what do you consider 'interesting' right now? Is it that thing you've done with Bonesaw? Has it gone wrong?""No, as far as I can tell, Riley's right on track." I took a bite of egg while I was thinking about what to say next. "There's some new capes in town. One showed up yesterday afternoon; I already knew about her. The other two must've come into town in the early hours of the morning. They're not even looking to have a beef with me, which makes them marginal for my radar. But they
are
using Master-type powers to mess with people, which is what puts them on my radar at all.""Maybe they're just passing through?" he hazarded. "Step aside and wave them by?"I shook my head. "It's more complicated than that. As far as I can tell, they're Heartbreaker's kids. One's running from him, the other two are chasing her. And
she
wants to stay in town.""Heartbreaker. Shit." Now, he looked concerned. "That man is bad news from start to finish. I've heard stories.""The reality is probably worse. It usually is." Once I noticed the intruders, I'd started a Path to End the threat and legacy of Heartbreaker, then gently steered my power away from 'kill them all' toward more information-gathering options. I was curious as to what was going on, and while going to the source and beating answers out of them was always an option, it was usually easier to just get my power to fill in the blanks.Kicking over the Path gave me more details about the three kids who'd just hit Brockton Bay. I already knew about Cherie Vasil, but her brothers Guillaume and Nicholas were new to me. Each had Master-style powers, but in a different way. Cherie could detect emotions from all the way across the city and control emotions from much closer, Guillaume could see through a person's eyes and mess with their senses once he touched them, and Nicholas could just inspire fear.And all three were
right at that second
using their powers to take advantage of the citizens of Brockton Bay. The capes might have had their unwritten rules, but I had one of my own:
no more villains in Brockton Bay.
I hadn't actually said as much on PHO, but it should've been made plain by context.With their actions, they were (however subtly) disrupting the orderly operation of
my city
and delaying its revival. That pissed me off. And so, they were now on my radar.But before I could deal with that, I had another obligation to meet. If I wanted to maintain even a fig-leaf of my cover as Taylor Hebert, I had to go to school. Winslow High awaited.Fortunately, at least one of my problems would come to me.
<><>
MadisonEmma had refused to watch the playback of the deaths of the Nine after the first go-around, but Madison had been through it at least half a dozen times. In a way, she was able to glean a certain bleak pride from watching Taylor's deadly grace against America's most terrifying supervillain gang. They had come to Brockton Bay, and one teenage girl had killed them all before they could even take a single victim.
You had no idea what you were up against.Madison knew.She'd strongly suspected that Taylor had killed Sophia after the incident in the cafeteria, but the absolute proof had arrived when Atropos paralysed Hatchet Face's diaphragm with his own axe and left him to suffocate. Her words to him left no doubt in her mind: 'I've only had to do this once before. She was an annoying little bitch, too. But she was on her second warning, so she got a pass. You're all out.'The incessant online speculation about who the other 'annoying little bitch' was would've amused her, except for that fact that every time she watched that part of the clip, she could hear Taylor's voice murmuring in her ear: "That's two." Nothing seemed funny after that.She knew beyond any shred of a doubt that Taylor could've left her to die, just as she had Hatchet Face. It hadn't been anything resembling compassion or pity that stayed Taylor's hand; Madison was pretty sure that even if Taylor felt those emotions, they didn't have much to do with her decisions.No, Taylor had simply chosen not to
bother
with killing her or Emma. She'd arbitrarily decided that they had one last chance to mend their ways, along with Sophia. Madison and Emma had taken the warning to heart. Sophia had not, and Taylor had killed her.But she hadn't stopped there. On that same night, Oni Lee had died, shot in the face with his own pistol. The next night, some villain called Coil. After that; Kaiser, then Lung, then Skidmark, in increasingly thorough ways.All Taylor. Even before the Nine, Madison had seen the images of Atropos and watched the meagre footage, and she
knew. The killer's stance was tall and proud, entirely unlike Taylor of before; but over the last week, she had walked with an assured stride that had people instinctively stepping out of her way. Some of this, Madison was sure, was down to the
extremely intense
whispering campaign that she and Emma had carried out to pass the word that Taylor was not to be bullied under any circumstances, but most of it was down to Taylor herself.Neither she nor Emma had breathed a word that might suggest Taylor was Atropos, but combined with Sophia's death and Taylor's change in attitude, the 'hands off' order had more or less accidentally suggested it anyway. She was reasonably sure that most of the school (those who were aware of Taylor, anyway) had half a suspicion of Atropos's true identity by now, but the events of Sunday afternoon had sealed any and all lips when it came to voicing such suspicions. Even if they didn't specifically believe it, nobody wanted to be the one who drew her ire by accidentally outing her.
Especially
considering how horribly fucking lethal she'd shown herself to be in both physical and social combat (Madison wasn't bad with the occasional cutting quip, but she'd never seen someone
talked
to death before) when up against the various members of the Nine.And there came Taylor herself. Backpack slung over her shoulder, head up, moving with that same confident stride. Madison belatedly realised that her hair—the one feature Atropos showed to the outside world—was also the same as in the footage she'd seen of the Sunday massacre.Stopping at her own locker, Taylor opened it briefly to get her books out, then closed it again and kept moving. Madison took half a step back, just to make sure that she wasn't in Taylor's way. At her side, Emma shrank back against the locker. Taylor passed them by with barely the flicker of an eye and the ghost of a nod to acknowledge their presence, then kept going.Madison breathed again. She was reasonably sure she'd never need to actually do cardio again for as long as she attended Winslow, from the accelerated heartrate she got every time she knew Taylor was in the vicinity. Terror-fuelled adrenaline had a way of doing that.And then, disaster loomed. As Taylor made her way along the corridor toward (Madison presumed) her home room, Greg Veder approached her, hand up to get her attention.
No, Greg, no!
Madison screamed silently. One did not simply delay a force of nature from going where she wished.Beside her, Emma sucked in a breath. "Does he
want
to die?" she whispered."No idea." Madison checked around for escape routes. She didn't
think
whatever Greg had to say would cause Taylor to go berserk on the school; but then again, Greg had been known to say some remarkably moronic things.Madison had no idea what Greg was saying, but it didn't seem to be setting Taylor off. Whatever it was, he finished quickly enough, then stood there nervously awaiting a reply. She spoke a few words and slapped him lightly on the shoulder then moved on, leaving Madison wondering what had just happened. At least she didn't look angry, and Greg was still upright and alive, so there was that."What did he say?" hissed Emma. "What did
she
say?" She eyed Madison, as if about to mention that Taylor and Greg shared a World Affairs class with her."You know what?" Madison decided. "I really don't want to know that badly." Taylor Hebert's business was Taylor Hebert's business. Madison liked living.Emma drew in a shaky breath. "Yeah, good point. Let's get to home room. See you at lunch." They would eat far away from Taylor's table; that was a given. If they didn't interact with her, they would not offend her, and thus the stay of execution would be maintained. It was a plan."See you there." Madison gave her friend a smile and encouraging nod—stay strong—and headed off toward the Art classroom, which was her own home room.There were many villains in the world. So long as Taylor had them to focus on, Madison and Emma would survive.
<><>
CherishCherie pushed open the doors of the school and walked on in as if she belonged, even though she'd never been there before in her life. All around her sang a chorus of music only she could hear, emanating from the students and staff of Winslow High School. Overtones merged with undertones; nobody was truly happy to be there, but some were more content than others.Interestingly enough, a significant fraction of the students in the school shared an underlying tension born of fear, though in some it made the transition to respect. With a very few, that fear was sharp and jagged, the musical tones jangled, while for most it was more of a background thing. The fear notes peaked at a certain point within the school, a point which moved at a steady walking pace.And from that point came an entirely different set of tones, harsh and dark. The kind of music she imagined would come from an immense predatory beast prowling through the jungle darkness, knowing full-well it was
the
baddest motherfucker in the valley of the shadow of death. The sort of hunting creature that had no fucks to give.In that instant, as she registered the tone and analysed it, the music
changed. It became more insistent, more dangerous, as the moving student stopped. A thrill of notes ran through it that told her one thing. The monster was aware of her presence. It had her scent.And it had just growled.Well, shit.
<><>
TaylorI'd just passed by Madison and Emma, who by all appearances were trying to pretend to not even be there, when Greg came up to me. "Uh, Taylor?""Yeah, Greg, what is it?" He wasn't intruding on my threat landscape, so I didn't have to worry about danger from him.He grimaced briefly. "That PHO thing … I was being a fucking idiot and I just want to say I'm sorry and it'll never happen again. Okay?"Huh. That had actually been a well-thought-out apology. I nodded to acknowledge it, and gave him a brief half-smile. "Apology accepted, Greg. We're good." Giving him a light slap on the shoulder, I moved on.It appeared the Path to End any bullying of me had definitely borne fruit. Even the girls who'd casually passed comments about me were significantly silent when I walked by. I doubted Greg, or either of Emma or Madison, had deliberately passed word about who I was; they would've shown up as enemies if they had. But it seemed enough people were wary of me that they knew
something
was up, just not quite what.I was perfectly fine with that.Nobody hassled me as I headed for the Computer Studies classroom. I was a little early, but I figured I could do some checking on PHO to see if there was anything I could pick up on the Vasil kids. Even if there wasn't, it would serve the pass the time until one of them made their next move.Just as I got to the doorway of the classroom, that was exactly what happened. I felt a ping, and saw in my mental landscape that Cherie had arrived at the school—exactly as predicted—and was now actively scanning for me. The ping itself announced that she'd found me. I focused on the dot representing her, getting her exact location in the school and what she intended to do from here on in, and allowed some of my irritation at her being
in my city
to bleed through. From the way she twitched, she'd gotten the message loud and clear.Good.
<><>
CherishShe hadn't realised that Atropos would be able to counter-sense her. This put a whole new urgency on the matter. She
had
to get a name, a face, something she could work with. Going directly at Atropos, focusing specifically on her, would be a mistake. She'd made mistakes before, but she'd always recovered from them. And getting Atropos on side as her protector, whatever the cost, would be worth it.
I'm not going back. I'm never going back.Taking her focus away from the source of the dark, sharp music, she turned it instead toward one of the two people who had exhibited such a strong fear response. This person, beyond a doubt, knew who Atropos was.
And once I have a name, I have leverage.That person was also moving with purpose, toward a destination somewhat distant from the source of the menacing melody (who seemed, thank fuck, to have lost interest in her for the moment). Cherie hurried her footsteps; while she could do what she needed to with others around, having witnesses usually made things a ton more difficult. So, it was better to grab her before she reached whichever classroom she was going toward.Climbing a short flight of stairs, she hustled along a corridor and turned a corner to see the focus of the fear ahead of her. Petite, with long brown hair, the girl was walking away from her and not keeping pace with anyone else. That meant there was nobody to pay direct attention to what she needed to do.Perfect.She had to break into a half-run to catch up with the girl, but she managed it. Just before her quarry would've gotten to a classroom full of her peers, Cherie slapped a hand onto her shoulder. "Not so fast."The girl's underlying fear peaked into heart-stopping terror, and she whirled around. "I didn't do anything, I swear!" A couple of moments passed by, while she apparently processed the fact that she wasn't looking at Atropos, before her fear dropped away. "Uh, who are you?""Not something you need to worry about." Cherie took the girl's curiosity and anger at being scared, and minimised them. She didn't have time for arguments or stupid questions right now. "I just want to know something.""Listen, I don't know you, and I need to get to class, so—" The girl went to pull away.Cherie muted that impulse, too. "My name's Cherie. There, now you know me. What's your name?"With her wariness dialled back—god, this girl was a
mass
of worries—she blurted, "Madison. Madison Clements. What do you want to know?"Well, that was a good start. "What I want to know, Madison, is
who is Atropos? I know you're aware of who she is. I just want to know her name."It was like she'd tossed a match into a mass of tinder. The fear roared up again, glaring out of Madison like a nuclear furnace. "N-no. I can't tell you. She-she'll kill me."Cherie rolled her eyes. "No, she won't. There's nothing to be scared of. You can tell me." As she spoke, she damped down the fear reaction to a fraction of its normal effect.Madison shook her head frantically. "No! She will
totally
kill me!" She seemed to be taking an effort to breathe, her eyes wide and staring. "You don't know her! You haven't looked in her eyes!"Jesus, it's like Nicholas went to town on her.
Whatever Atropos had done to put a scare into Madison, it had worked. The terror went bone-deep.Again, she damped down the fear. "It's okay. I'll protect you. You can tell me. I'm not scared of her." Leaning in, she whispered, "Who is Atropos?"This was getting irritating. No matter how hard she forced the fear response down, it flared up over and over again. "You
should
be scared of her!" Madison's tone wasn't defiant; she was terrified. No matter what other emotional reactions Cherie elicited in her, the fear of Atropos overwhelmed everything.Vaguely, as she concentrated on getting Madison to cooperate, she became aware of someone coming up behind her. She sent them 'disinterest, ignore me', then turned her full attention back to the girl in front of her.Fine. I'll fight fear with fear. Let's see how she goes when I divert some of that toward me, and she ends up more scared of me than of Atropos.Something smashed into the side of her head, and the hallway spun around her. Knocked off her feet, she landed heavily on her side, sprawling untidily. She shook her head in an attempt to get rid of the ringing from the impact, then looked around to see what had just happened. Just then, a foot hammered into her ribs and she was jolted sideways, breath driven from her lungs.Cherie cursed her own inattention; she'd been concentrating so hard on trying to interrogate Madison that she'd totally missed Atropos' musical accompaniment approaching her from behind.As she slumped onto her side, a tall slender brunette stood over her. "I hear you've been looking for me."
<><>
TaylorI gave the girl at my feet a dispassionate glance, then looked over at Madison."I didn't say a word, I swear!" she babbled. "She wanted to know who you were, but I didn't tell her!""I know," I reassured her. "You've done well. Get to class."She blinked at the unexpected praise. "Uh … okay." Turning in the direction of the Art classroom, she scuttled off without looking back.I got the very distinct impression that not only did she not want to know what I was going to do, but she didn't even want to
acknowledge
that something might happen. Which worked just fine for me.Slinging my backpack over my shoulder, I leaned down and grabbed the groaning girl by the scruff of the neck. "Come on," I told her as I hoisted her to her feet. "There's some things I've got to say and you need to hear." With dark amusement, I noted that they hadn't actually locked the classroom that I'd ended Sophia's career in, so I opened the door and shoved her in there.
<><>
CherishIt had been a while since Cherie had been manhandled like that. Her torments were normally of the mental and emotional variety, at the hands of her family. Only when her father had rented her to outsiders for an evening of (their) pleasure had she had to deal with the physical type.This was different. Those men didn't care what she wanted or thought. They just wanted her body, not her attention. Atropos absolutely wanted her attention, and wasn't taking 'no' for an answer.As her head cleared, Cherie wondered if it would be easier just to go that route. While she wasn't stupid enough to think that being Atropos' lover would exempt her from all 'discipline', it would make things a lot smoother all around. Tentatively, she reached out to Atropos' musical melange, seeking any sort of tendency toward same-sex attraction. The vast majority of people had some level of it, she knew from personal experience; however, most either didn't notice it or subsumed it into 'acceptable' social contact. No matter how feeble it was, if she could bring it out …Her inquiry hit a brick wall at about the same time she felt the same brick wall explode on the side of her face. Reeling sideways, she landed on the floor. A warm trickle across her face told her that she had a nosebleed."Rule number one." A sneaker-clad foot rolled her over onto her back, then settled across her neck; not hard enough to impede her breathing, but the awareness of it was right there. "You don't use your powers on me. I
will
know, and I
will
kill you. Do you understand?"She blinked her eyes clear and stared up at Atropos. There was as little mercy in those eyes as in the musical accompaniment. "Y-yes," she managed. "I-I understand.""Good. Rule number two. You don't use your powers on my family or friends. I
will
know, and I
will
kill you. Do you understand?"Cherie wasn't actually stupid, just the victim of a terrible upbringing. She was perfectly capable of spotting the trend here. "I understand," she said again.Atropos must have had some level of emotional sensing herself, because she evidently picked up on Cherie's sincerity. "Excellent. Rule number three. When I tell you to use your power, you will use it
only
on the people I tell you to use it on, you will use it
exactly how
I tell you to use it, and you will stop using it when I say so. Vary from any of these, and you'll
wish
I had only killed you. Do you understand?"To describe the Vasil family as 'dysfunctional' was to invent entire new vistas for that word to explore. Cherie had undergone many experiences under her father's 'protection' that she would rather die than revisit. However, listening to the sheer menace in the music surrounding Atropos, in stark contrast to the matter-of-fact way the words were spoken, filled her with the burning determination to never find out what Atropos considered a fate worse than death."I understand," she managed, while at the same time suppressing her bladder's urgent desire to empty itself. "I'll do what you tell me. I promise."Atropos beamed and took her foot off Cherie's neck. "Good." Leaning down, she offered a hand up. "I'm
so
glad we could reach an understanding."Cautiously, Cherie accepted it and allowed Atropos to help her up. No more surprise attacks seemed to be forthcoming, which was a nice change of pace. "So, you'll protect me from my dad?""I'll do better than that," Atropos said, as though suggesting that she would pay for Cherie's lunch tomorrow. "I've already told him not to come here, so when he does, I'll kill him. He's an infected pustule on the ass-end of society, and someone should've put an end to him long ago.""When he—what?" Cherie stared at Atropos, near panic. "No, you can't face him! People who face him become
his."Atropos raised an eyebrow. "Really. Jack Slash thought the same thing."Cherie knew damn well what had happened to Jack Slash. Also, what had happened to Mannequin. "I … okay." She would wait and see what happened. And if Atropos lost to her father, she'd find some way to put a bullet in her own brain, because right then the world would be
fucked.Atropos smiled breezily. Cherie wasn't sure how she managed to insert the undertone of menace. "Excellent. Go, do something. Don't break any rules. I'll find you after school."And she would; Cherie had no doubt. Though the word 'find' triggered a problematic memory. "Oh … just by the way? My dad sent two of my brothers after me, and they're in town right now." Even from halfway across town, she could pick up their distinctive emotional signatures."I know."Cherie stared at her new boss (because that was
totally
what Atropos was, now), eyes widening. "You already
know?""Guillaume and Nicholas, yes." Atropos' musical accompaniment never changed. She knew who it was, and she just didn't give a shit. "I'll deal with them after school. Go hang out at the Boardwalk or something. Just follow the rules and we'll be fine."The dismissal was clear. Cherie wiped the blood off her face and headed out of the room. She wasn't quite sure what Atropos wanted her for, but she also knew damn well that if she hadn't smartened up real fast, she'd be lying dead in that room right now.On the upside, she was now under Atropos' protection. A little nosebleed and a few basic rules were definitely fucking worth that.
<><>
World Affairs Classroom, Winslow High11.45 AMTaylorI was first out of my seat as the bell rang for the beginning of lunch break. Not because I wanted to elude my tormentors anymore; these days, they were careful to stay out of
my
way. But I had a phone call to make, and I'd still need time to eat lunch after that. Hasty eating can really mess up digestion."Taylor? Can you stay back a moment, please?"Just for a moment, I considered pretending I hadn't heard Mr Gladly's voice, but it would probably draw more attention than it was worth. Whatever; I'd give him two minutes, then kill the conversation if he looked like taking too long to get to the point."Sure thing, Mr Gladly." I made my way through the stream of outgoing students to stand next to his desk. Fortunately—for them—they gave me a politely wide berth, nobody so much as jostling me on the way past. "What's on your mind?"He waited until the last of them had trailed out the door, then turned to me. "Taylor, I'm not blind."I refrained from rolling my eyes.
Could've fooled me.
"I get that. There's the whole lack of a seeing-eye dog and all." Okay, so I'd be a
bit
sarcastic."Um, okay, yes." He floundered for a few seconds. I kept the countdown going in my head. "I, uh, I've heard a rumour being passed around. People are whispering that you're this new cape called Atropos, or you know her."I stared at him, deadpan. "And …?" What people thought of me mattered not in the slightest. It was quite liberating, really."And aren't you
concerned? Atropos
kills
people!" His whole attitude shouted that I should be cowering under his desk."Atropos kills
supervillains." I shrugged. "I doubt she'd take time off her busy schedule to come after someone who poses no threat to her. Was that it?""Uh … yes." He had the expression of someone who has just poised for a leap across a bottomless pit, and found it was painted in place. "So … you're okay with the rumours?""If it makes people leave me alone?" I gave him a carefree grin. "I really couldn't give a damn."His two minutes were up; I headed out the door, leaving him staring at my back.
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11:50 AMOffice of the Mayor, Brockton BayRoy ChristnerJust as Roy was considering going for an early lunch, his phone rang. Not his regular-business phone, but the urgent one. The number of people who had access to that phone could be counted on his fingers and have some left over. When he got a call on that phone, he answered it as soon as humanly possible.Snatching it up, he scanned the screen for the caller's name, only to see UNKNOWN NUMBER. That should've been impossible, because everyone he'd given the number to was in the phone's contact list. Still, maybe someone was calling from a secondary number.Swiping to accept the call, he held the phone to his ear. "You've got Christner. Who is this?""Hello, Mr Mayor." The voice was not one he knew.
"This is Atropos. I suspect you've heard of me."Brockton Bay's most effective serial killer or the saviour of the city; she'd been called both in his hearing. Of
course
he'd heard of her. Especially since, every time she posted on PHO, the hardcopy hit his desk within five minutes. He'd had several intense discussions with Emily Piggot about what was to be done about her, and none of the answers they'd come up with had been both acceptable and possible."I have," he answered cautiously. "To what do I owe this call?"She chuckled. "Don't worry. You're not in trouble yet. I'm just giving you a heads-up for something you need to have done by Wednesday."He didn't like the sound of that 'yet', but it also implied there was a chance he
wouldn't
end up in Atropos' crosshairs, so he took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. "What do I need to have done by Wednesday?""Like I said on PHO, I'm donating the bounty for the Nine toward revitalising Brockton Bay."
Her voice was calm and even, as though she spoke about giving away nearly a hundred million dollars every day.
"A plan will be arriving at your office on Wednesday. This plan needs to be followed in every regard. Your job is to assemble a committee between now and Wednesday, so that when the plan arrives and the money shows up in the correct account, they can get straight to work.""A committee?" This call was not going the way he'd expected when he heard Atropos' name."Yeah. You know, a bunch of people with a specific job, who work together to achieve it? I'm pretty sure you've got those in government."
There was a touch of mockery in her answer."I know what a committee is!" he snapped, already angry at himself for letting her bait him. "What sort of committee?""One that's got the power to enforce the directives of the plan,"
she stated crisply.
"Composed of people who can follow directions, and won't try to redirect funds into personal projects or their own pockets. And headed by someone of proven integrity, who can oversee it all and make sure the plan gets followed."Roy ran his hand through his thinning hair. "Something like this would normally take weeks or months to determine.""You've got two days. And just something you might want to impress on your people. If anyone tries to change the plan or abscond with funds—and I mean anyone—I
will
know, and their colleagues
will
be dissuaded from attempting the same thing."And there was the looming threat. He didn't think she'd limit herself to a slap on the wrist. Which raised another problem; as much as he liked to think he ran a tight ship, ninety-seven million dollars raised a lot of questions about exactly how
much
integrity some of his people had. "But I … I don't think we've got enough people who have the free time to sit on a committee like that."She chuckled, as though she'd heard what he didn't say.
"Or rather, enough people who wouldn't try to skim some off the top? I understand. However, you're missing a bet. I didn't say the committee had to be made up entirely of people from the city council. In fact, I strongly urge you to look outward to the wider community, to local businesses and organisations. This also reduces the chances of collusion.""Ah. Right. Okay, I'll do what I can.""Yes. You will. Toodles."
The call ended, leaving him staring at the phone.The chances of that call
not
having come from Atropos was minimal to zero. She hadn't asked for anything for herself, and she'd set about making plans for the money that was undoubtedly incoming for the destruction of the Nine. So, it was in his best interest to take her order and make it a reality.He really, really didn't want to think of the consequences for screwing this up.Getting up, he went into his ensuite and used the facilities, then splashed water on his face. He came back into the office and picked up his other phone. One name for the 'outside' people had come to mind while he was refreshing himself. He dialled the number and leaned back in his chair."Dockworkers' Association, Danny Hebert speaking.""Ah, Danny," he said, trying to sound relaxed and confident. "Roy Christner here. Something has come up, and I thought of your name in relation to it. How would you feel about sitting on a committee to help revitalise the city, maybe even heading it?"There was a long pause before Danny Hebert spoke again.
"You have my attention.""Good. So, this is what's happened …"
<><>
A Few Hours LaterHillside MallGuillaume"Hey, excuse me. Can you guys help me out?" While Nicholas stood back, Guillaume approached the eighth or ninth bunch of obvious schoolkids hanging out in the mall.One of the guys turned to look at him. "Yeah, whaddaya want?""It's my sister," Guillaume said, holding out the photocopied picture of Cherie. "She's gone missing. Have you seen her?""Buddy," said another guy. "This is Brockton Bay. Bad shit happens here. Maybe you should go back to Canuck-land and look there.""No, let me see." The first guy took the picture, and Guillaume managed to brush fingertips with him at the same time. "When did she go missing?""A couple of weeks ago," Guillaume said. "We think whoever took her might be heading in this direction." Which was all true, except for the 'whoever took her' aspect."Shit, that's rough." One of the girls came up to look over her friend's shoulder at the picture, and Guillaume casually brushed against her as well.The more eyes he could see through, the better. As it was, he already had dozens of viewpoints all over Brockton Bay, but not one had picked her up. Either she'd found a hole to hide in or she'd already left town, but that would be against the pattern she'd been showing."Thanks, I appreciate it." He moved into the rest of the group, seeking contact with all of them while trying to make it appear accidental. However, this wasn't easy to do, and sometimes people took offense. Especially in America, for some reason."Hey!" It was the guy who'd told him to go back to Canada. "You grab-assing there? You some kinda perv, you little dick?""No, I'm just showing you guys the picture." He waved the stack of sheets still in his hand."Bullshit! You're just a fuckin' pervert!" The guy grabbed for him, and he ducked, assisted by the fact that he had four different viewpoints telling him exactly which way to move."Back the fuck off." It was Nicholas, who had approached when things had started going sideways. Guillaume knew waves of fear would be emanating from him, catching the aggressive asshole off guard."Whoa, shit, shit, capes!" The schoolkids all scrambled to get away, leaving Guillaume standing there unscathed. "I thought there weren't villains anymore!""Yeah, as if." Guillaume moved to join Nicholas and they headed for an exit. "I had it covered.""Bullshit." Nicholas snorted in derision. "You were about to get your pasty-white ass pummelled, is what was happening. What'd they mean about no villains anymore, anyway?"They emerged into the open air, Guillaume breathing deeply from the close call. "It's a thing. Local cape called Atropos is making a play for the top spot or something. Killing off the competition. Lots of bullshit on PHO.""Right." Nicholas looked around. "So, where to next?"Guillaume stopped as a familiar face showed up on one of the many viewpoints in his head. Even better, it was nearby. "Over that way," he said urgently, pointing. "Just around that corner. Someone saw her.""Awesome." Nicholas rolled his eyes. "About fucking time
something
went right around here."They hustled across the street and around the corner, to see Cherie just about to enter an alleyway. She looked around and saw them, and her eyes widened. One step, and she was out of sight."No, no, no, fuck, no!" Nicholas broke into a sprint, with Guillaume not far behind. He could see what his brother could, of course, so he wasn't missing anything.Nicholas entered the alley first, Guillaume hot on his heels. They didn't know enough about the local layout to try a pincer movement, so pursuit it was. Where Cherie ran, they would follow, until they caught up with her and dragged her back to their father for whatever punishment awaited her.But she wasn't running. Nicholas—and thus Guillaume—saw that she was standing a little way down the alley, waiting for them. And with her was another figure, this one in all black, including a morph mask and a broad-brimmed hat. She had a certain edgy style about her, but they weren't here for some local cape, however stylish. They were here for their sister."That's far enough," the cape said. She had a pair of … scissors? Shears? Whatever they were, she was twirling them around her finger. "Nicholas, Guillaume, I've got a message for you to take back to your father. Cherie is under
my
protection now. Think you can remember that for me?"Nicholas shook his head. "Oh, bullshit. I don't know who you are—""Atropos," she said, timing the word perfectly to knock him off his stride. "And I've got rules. You're Heartbreaker's kids, and I've already told him to stay the fuck out of my city. That goes for you too. So, you've got three options here.""I don't give a good fucking
goddamn
who you think you are," Nicholas snapped. "Or about your three options.
You've
got two options. One, Cherie comes with us. Two, Cherie comes with us and you get left in a puddle of your own piss and shit and puke. I don't care which.""You might want to think twice about threatening her like that." Cherie sounded a lot less scared than she should've. "If you haven't been paying attention over the last few days, the Nine came to town, and Atropos killed 'em all. Murdered the shit out of them."Guillaume twitched. He thought he'd heard something about that, but it hadn't been enough to get his attention. His whole focus had been on finding Cherie. Nothing else mattered. But now … he pulled out his phone and thumbed it on."Okay, that's just pure bullshit with extra bullshit on top." Nicholas was getting off his game with the insults, but he was under a lot of stress, so Guillaume decided to cut him some slack. "If some newcomer cape could take down the fuckin'
Nine,
then someone would've done it years ago.""And yet, they're dead." Atropos didn't sound boastful. She could've been saying, 'And yet, the sky is blue'. "As I was saying, you've got three options. One, you go back to your daddy without Cherie. Two, you end up in PRT custody, get extradited to Canada, and spend time in juvey for your various crimes. Or three, I kill you here and now. The one thing that's
not
happening is Cherie going anywhere with you. Do I make myself totally understood?""Fine," sneered Nicholas. "A puddle of piss and shit and puke it is." He pretended to crack his knuckles. "Sis, you better stand aside. This is gonna get messy." He concentrated; Guillaume knew that Atropos was now bearing the full brunt of his powers.Nothing happened.For someone who should've been running in terror or soiling themselves from multiple orifices at once, Atropos seemed remarkably unbothered by the emotional onslaught.And then she spoke.
"You think to inflict fear on me?"
The voice that came from behind the morph mask was both unearthly and deeply unsettling.
"I
am
fear. I am Death. I am
Ending."She stepped forward, going from near-motionless to attack mode without anything in between. Nicholas, caught off-guard, barely resisted when she picked him up and pile-drove him face-first into an overfull trash can.At the same time, the search Guillaume had been making on his phone popped up a result. Nicholas swore violently, then scrambled to his feet and tried to shoulder-charge Atropos; she seemed to melt out of the way, leaving him to crash-tackle the wall of the alleyway. Predictably, it failed to budge."Last warning." Atropos was speaking normally once more; she had the shears back in her hand. They glittered in the dim light that filtered down into the alley. "Leave, surrender, or die."Guillaume only caught the flicker of Nicholas' eye because he was tapped into his brother's vision.
Cherie.
Normally he couldn't affect her because she could moderate her own emotions as a defence. But he only needed a split-second opening.Cherie cried out as the fear hit her. At the same time, Nicholas pulled the pistol he'd taken off a gangbanger two towns back. She was only six feet away. He'd be able to hit her easily.Except, she didn't turn to look at Cherie. There was no distraction at all. As though they'd practiced the move for hours, she knocked the pistol aside with the shears. Then the blades flashed back across, followed by a gush of red. Nicholas gagged, blood on his lips, then fell to his knees. As inevitably as the march of the years he would never now experience, he toppled forward onto his face. His lifeblood pooled around his head on the grimy alley floor.Atropos turned toward Guillaume; with a flick of her wrist, she shook the blood from the blade. "And you?"He looked down at the phone in his hand. On the screen, there was a picture of Atropos, an axe in one hand and Jack Slash's severed head in the other. He didn't really need it, after what he'd just seen. He
believed.This only left him with one good option. Slowly, he put his hands up. "I'd like to surrender now, please."There was no way in
hell
he could go back to his father, having lost both Nicholas and Cherie, and hope to keep his sanity. It was, as they said, a no-brainer.He couldn't see her face, but he could hear her smile when she spoke.
"Good
choice."
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♦ Topic: Just Another Manic MondayIn: Boards ► Brockton Bay ► New Capes ► AtroposAtropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me)Posted On Jan 10th 2011:Good afternoon to you wonderful people of Brockton Bay!Today has been a restful day; by which I mean I barely had to kill anyone (though the day's not over yet, whee).Would you believe, I encountered a couple of people today who hadn't heard about how the Nine went down in an ignominious heap just yesterday? I educated them, of course, and afterward they were much more understanding of the matter.Oh, and Mayor Christner assures me that the committee to revitalize Brockton Bay (using the funds from the bounties on the Nine) will be up and running by Wednesday, ready to discharge their duties with full integrity and honesty. I have faith in you, Mr Christner!I'll be watching.(Mwahahaha.)Also, I promised you news about the drug trade today, and here it is. There are two more major staging points within Brockton Bay, one on the Docks and one to the northwest of the city. The people manning them (and in some cases womaning them; can't be sexist now) know where they are ... and so do I. Remember that mushroom cloud we enjoyed on Saturday afternoon? Expect something similar tonight, times two. I'll be sure to alert the fire department before it happens so they can be on the way. Bring your breathing gear, guys. The air is gonna be *funky*.Oh, and those of you who are invested in those drugs staying where they are? This is your only warning. I won't be pulling punches. So, if you figure tonight's a good night to go visit your sick aunt in Florida, or have a deep and meaningful chat with your local desk sergeant, I'm not gonna blame you. In fact, such behavior is thoroughly encouraged.And one more thing. Hey, Heartbreaker? That makes four of your kids you're not getting back. Take a hint, loser. Or, you know, come face me yourself. But make your will out first. Just saying.To the rest of you lovely people, have a great Monday night, and see you tomorrow.Toodles!
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----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
Somewhere Well Outside Brockton BayLisa leaned back in her chair, sucking in air through her teeth. "Jesus Christ," she muttered."What?" asked Alec, looking up from the news. "Atropos again?""Yeah," she replied absently. "She's been hitting the drug stashes pretty hard. There's going to be more going up tonight.""Oh, yeah, the one she blew up belonged to Accord, didn't it?" She could
hear
his smirk. "Bet he was able to crush coal into diamonds with his ass-cheeks after that little stunt."Lisa pondered that. "Yeah, but she hasn't said anything about him sending anyone in from Boston in retaliation, and normally she wouldn't be shy about that sort of thing
at all.""Maybe he sent someone that she doesn't know about?" He shrugged when she turned and gave him a
really?
look. "Hey, it could happen.""Not to Atropos, it doesn't." She stretched in the chair, feeling her back pop into place. "She even knew when Skidmark hadn't heard about the first challenge. She's got her shit more organised than Armsmaster's workshop. Which means Accord isn't going after her, because she somehow made him a better offer.""What, to kill someone for him?" Alec tilted his head. "Who the fuck is worth that much money?""Dunno … oh, and Heartbreaker's going to be totally pissed with her. Given that she's currently yanking his chain like it's an Olympic event, I figure he'll be hitting Brockton Bay in the next forty-eight to seventy-two hours."Somehow, Alec managed to go from lounging indolently on the sofa to standing beside her without appearing to pass through the intervening space. "What?""Heartbreaker. See, right there." She tapped on the screen with her nail. "Four of his kids. They must've come after Atropos en masse, and she dealt with them. But goading him like that … he'll come after her, and soon.""Good." He went back to the sofa and picked up the remote. "Let me know when she kills him, so I know how much confetti to buy."One channel change later, she waited until he was engrossed in a game show until she looked over her shoulder at him. She'd had her suspicions about his origins, and now they were confirmed. Not that she felt anything but sympathy for him; she knew exactly what it was like to be under the thumb of a controlling asshole, too.
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(Showing page 1 of 11)
►Bagrat
(Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)Replied On Jan 10th 2011:So, to address this in reverse order.To absolutely nobody's surprise, our very own *extremely capable* angel of death is once more right on the money when it comes to Heartbreaker's children. An anonymous tip led us to one deceased and one living child, both known to the Canadian authorities for various Master-related crimes. Where the other two are I have no idea, but I am *absolutely* not going to doubt her word on this. Not after the last week.Heartbreaker, if you know what's good for you, cut your losses and stay away. Just saying.As for the drug thing, I have absolutely no idea where she's getting her information from, but it
kind of
matches up with leaks we've had from other sources. But we still don't know where, exactly. And it sounds like she does.So I'm going to make this one-time suggestion to everyone who is *at all* involved in the illegal hard-drug trade in Brockton Bay. Stop what you're doing, right now. Get out of the business. It's liable to become extremely unhealthy in the next few hours.Finally, yeah, that revitalization scheme is absolutely a thing. My sources tell me that the Mayor's office has been frantically scrambling to assemble a committee to oversee the disbursement of the ninety-seven million dollars accruing from the ending of the Nine. Something tells me Atropos wants it to go smoothly and without any of the money vanishing into someone's bank account. So when she says she'll be watching, she means it.I guess we'll find out soon enough if they can take a hint.I believe the appropriate comment right now is 'we live in interesting times'.
►Reave
(Verified PRT Agent)Replied On Jan 10th 2011:@Atropos – Okay, I get it. You work alone. And you are admittedly very effective when you do so. But you don't have to do it all yourself. If you could contact someone—even me—and give us the details of those drug locations, we could pass it on to the BBPD and they could carry out the raid themselves. That way, you're not working for us and we're not getting in your way.Also, it means you don't have to create a fire and pollution hazard for the city in getting rid of them.What do you say?
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me)Replied On Jan 10th 2011:@Reave – Hey there! Thanks for the nice words. It's cool to hear the professionals say that I'm doing a good job. As for your offer, I'm gonna have to turn you down because, frankly speaking, the BBPD is dragging their heels on the whole competence and corruption thing. (The PRT's going well, I'm pleased to say—you go, guys!)I'd maybe hand the information over to just the PRT, but the fact is, the one at the docks is being massively reinforced with guards and *actual fucking snipers*, and I don't want to make you lose men to that kind of meatgrinder when you don't have to. Every honest, competent law enforcement officer on the streets of Brockton Bay is a good thing, right now.And yes, I'm totes aware of how ironic it sounds for a remorseless serial killer to be talking about how great it is to have good cops around. But it's true. Every bit you can do to take some of the workload off my shoulders is appreciated. The ones you can't deal with, I'll kill. Sounds good? Sounds good.As for the other drug clearing-house, they're currently in the process of discreetly moving all the product and cash to a secondary site, one they think I don't know about. (Spoilers: I do. Also, the third site. And the fourth. Whoops, you're out of places to run and hide. Isn't this fun? Wheee!)I'd bring the BBPD in on this to back you up if I knew for a *fact* that all the drug guys would be arrested and charged, none of the money would mysteriously disappear, and none of the drugs would end up being re-sold on the black market … but right now, that's just not the case. So, I'm not going to put temptation in front of them. Sorry, not sorry.
►GreatAndTerribleAisha
(Verified Atropos Fan)Replied On Jan 10th 2011:Hahaha wow, BURN!I guess too many cops got used to looking the other way for a bit of cash, huh? I mean, when it's 'either accept this bribe or die screaming' I can kinda understand, but you'd think there would be the option of transferring to a different beat or whatever.Don't harsh me; not a cop, no idea how they do stuff. All I know is, they got no sense of humor, so when my girl Atropos called them out like that I might've done a little bit of a victory dance.So yeah, whoof, that takedown of the Nine, how good was that? She totally cut Jack down to size.Totally looking forward to the fireworks tonight.
►UnconcernedFoxReplied On Jan 10th 2011:*turns TV to local news station and readies popcorn conveyor belt*
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me)Replied On Jan 10th 2011:Now, now, @GreatAndTerribleAisha, don't go teasing the police.They might cry, and then where would we be?Ahh, who am I kidding? Tease them all you want. Maybe they'll clean up their act a little quicker.
►NaizebReplied On Jan 10th 2011:I have to ask … if Atropos took on up to four of Heartbreaker's offspring (whom I *assume* to be Masters in their own right, otherwise why send them?) and beat them handily, killing at least one and scaring another to the point that they surrendered to the authorities (not something that surprises me anymore, just btw) … does this mean she's immune to being Mastered? Or is she *just that damn good*?*pauses with hands over keyboard**re-watches the Nine takedown*Well, okay, yes, she's just that good, but is she *also* immune to being Mastered?
►TheRealShielder
(Verified Cape) (Cape Son) (New Wave Member)Replied On Jan 10th 2011:Well, there's no shortage of supervillains right now who would probably say 'Atropos OP, pls nerf' if they thought it would do the slightest bit of good.I've just got one thing to say.Sucks to be them.(Disclaimer: This comment does not in any way reflect the attitudes or opinions of New Wave as a whole).
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me)Replied On Jan 10th 2011:Okay, to cut short the inevitable fifteen-page argument thread about whether or not I'm immune to Mastery, or if I'm just that good …The answer is 'yes'.It's not that I'm immune to Mastery as such. It's more that, just like anything else, I can kill Mastery effects before they can make me do anything. And then, of course, I kill the Master who was stupid enough to try to get into my head.How, you may ask, do I kill Mastery effects?The answer is simple.I'm just that good.
► BattleLoafReplied On Jan 10th 2011:Wait, 4? Assuming the person she killed today is one of them, has she been picking off Heartbreaker's kids over the last week?Nabbed 3 others between assassinating Coil, Kaiser, Lung and Skids, while planning to Slaughter the Nine?Fucking hell, she is EFFICIENT. Take your eyes off her for a minute and 3 more supervillains drop like flies.
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►GreatAndTerribleAisha
(Verified Atropos Fan)Replied On Jan 10th 2011:Hahahaha oh man.If you guys knew one TENTH of what my girl Atropos has been pulling off behind the scenes … you would shit yourselves then leave town.Efficient isn't the half of it.Armsmaster should be begging on bended knee just to learn from her.
►XxVoid_CowboyxXReplied On Jan 10th 2011:Having seen what I've seen … I would not doubt that in the slightest.I'll be standing over here, not getting in her way.
►FlippinMadReplied On Jan 10th 2011:Me too, Void. Me too.There are some things you don't ever mess with.Most of them fall under the category of 'anything Atropos considers important'.
►RaRaRaReplied On Jan 10th 2011:@BattleLoaf - "not getting back" is not the same thing as "Killed".Only one of them is verified as being dead. One was reported as being turned over to the PRT.Not sure if I want to speculate about the fate of the other two.I mean, we've *seen* what happens to capes when Atropos is particularly peeved at them.
►BattleLoafReplied On Jan 10th 2011:@RaRaRa – fair enough. I just figured Atropos saying "you're not getting them back" basically means "they ded."(I might have missed the mention that one surrendered alive).
►DraconianReplied On Jan 10th 2011:Does this mean Heartbreaker is coming to town?You know, after he's been specifically warned not to?Pretty sure we all know what that means … "That's a paddlin'."(If by 'paddling' we mean 'imminent and possibly ironically excruciating death').
►Brocktonite03
(Veteran Member)Replied On Jan 10th 2011:Um … okay, if Heartbreaker's coming to town, I guess it's a good thing that we know ahead of time. But that was a pretty big list Atropos posted up. I wonder who else we have to worry about.
►Rook
(Verified Cape) (Red Hands Member)Replied On Jan 10th 2011:Not us. We are staying WAY the hell away from that shitshow.Hard pass.
►AverageAlexandros
(Cape Husband)Replied On Jan 10th 2011:Oh, good. I've always heard that the Red Hands are smarter than most.Ominous silence from the rest of them, though.
►CharReplied On Jan 10th 2011:Nope. The ominous is all on our side.Like the old joke goes, Atropos doesn't sleep. She *waits*.Only it's not a joke.It's really not.
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PRIVATE MESSAGETo: RookFrom: SilentWhispersSubject: Hi there!Tattletale here, of the Undersiders. We're kinda orphaned since our boss got Atropos'd and one of our members was grabbed up by the PRT in the aftermath. Was wondering if you had room for three more in your group? I'm told red goes great with my complexion. FYI, the other two are Regent and Bitch, but I haven't run this past them yet. Just checking to see if it's even an option.PM me with a yes, no or other answer.Tt
■
<><>
Brockton Bay Central LibraryTaylorI stood up from the computer terminal and stretched, first one way and then the other. My back popped nicely; I could feel the vertebrae settling back into place. As I watched, the ongoing discussion jumped onto yet another page. At times I got the impression that some people lived solely for the chance to blast their pet opinions across the internet, come rain or shine.Dad already knew I was going to be staying out for a while before I came home. I'd already told him when and where to pick Cherie and me up. Having him in the know made setting up my Paths a ton easier.Which reminded me. I took my phone out and dialled his office number. I'd told him about Cherie and the others, but not that I'd be recruiting her. That was my bad, but one I could correct.He picked up the phone promptly enough. "Dockworkers' Association, Danny Hebert speaking.""Hey, Dad," I said. "Could you do me a favour and set an extra place at the table when you get home? I'll be having a friend sleep over tonight, and I don't want her thinking we're uncultured savages or something."He never hesitated.
"Sure, okay. Is this the friend you were talking about this morning?"
Oh, yeah, he was on the ball today."That's the one," I confirmed. "Thanks a million. You're the best.""You're only saying that because it's true." A chuckle came down the line.
"See you tonight.""See you then." I ended the call and put my phone away. Leaning over the computer, I cleared the history (and the link to the spoofed channel going through the PRT building) then shut it down. Then I picked up my pack and slung it over my shoulder. Cherie, who had been browsing through magazines nearby, got up and came over. For someone who was due to lose her father in the next forty-eight hours, she looked downright chipper.I had a lot to do tonight, and only part of it was going to involve utterly wrecking the remaining illegal hard drug supply points in Brockton Bay. Other threats were upcoming, and I needed to be prepared for them.Fortunately, I knew exactly what I needed, and where to get it from.
<><>
TenebraeBrian paused in front of the door to Director Piggot's office and took a deep breath. He hadn't screwed up in the last twenty-four hours—at least, he didn't
think
he had—which merely made the unexpected summons all the more unnerving. Had the Director somehow figured out the Riley scam that Atropos was running on the PRT? On the face of it, he didn't think it likely, but shit sometimes just plain happened.Letting out the breath, he reached up and knocked firmly on the door."Enter."The handle turned easily in his hand, and he walked into the office. Director Piggot sat behind her desk, impassive as ever. He hadn't spent enough time in her presence to know her moods yet, but the stories he'd heard from the other Wards—the paperwork had finally come through that afternoon—indicated that she didn't show anything at all until she was well and truly pissed. And by that time, of course, it was far too late to do anything except duck and cover, and hope that you weren't the target of her ire."You wanted to see me, ma'am?"She nodded once in confirmation. "Yes, Mr Laborn. I understand you will be going out with the rest of the Wards as of tonight. How do you feel about this?"The rock-hard ball of tension inside his chest began to gradually loosen. "I get along well with my teammates, ma'am. They're good people. Looking forward to backing them up out there.""Good." A slight creasing around her cheeks suggested the ghost of a smile. Apparently he'd said the right thing? "And your sister. How is she settling in? I know you agreed to take in your cousin, but does she have any problems with the idea?""No, ma'am." He suppressed a smile at the idea of Aisha's reaction to such a suggestion. "Aisha and I haven't even met young Riley, but she's enthusiastic at the idea of having a younger sibling of sorts to spend time with. And as for how she's doing right now … well, she might be snarky, but she's told me that PRT housing is a lot better than staying with either of our parents. She's less enthusiastic about having to go to school, but even that's less of an issue with the special classes she's taking.""That's also good to hear." Piggot placed her hands on the desk and leaned forward slightly. "Has Atropos contacted her again, perhaps in relation to the raids on the drug warehouses tonight?"Carefully, Brian shook his head. "It seems she believes she can handle this one herself. Personally, I think the main reason she took us on the last expedition was because Aisha hates drugs, and Atropos wanted to show her a good day out.""Hmm." The Director sat back again. "If she contacts either one of you, I want to know
immediately.
The last thing we want to do is get in her way. Is that understood?""Trust me, ma'am, that's the last thing I want too," Brian agreed fervently. "I'm pretty sure she'll contact Aisha again. I just don't know when.""Then we're on the same page." Director Piggot nodded to him. "Close the door on your way out, please.""Yes, ma'am." He turned and left the office, careful to do what she'd said. Only then did he let out the rest of the accumulated tension in a gust of breath.He'd already been told that Riley would be coming in later that night; they were timing her arrival for shortly after he finished his shift as Tenebrae.Despite his earlier misgivings, he was kind of looking forward to it.
<><>
CherishFor all that she was the oldest child of Heartbreaker, Cherie Vasil had never been away from home before. More specifically, she'd never been out from under her father's thumb
ever, so she had no idea how other villains approached things. Such as, for instance, serial killing. While she'd seen the footage of Atropos tearing a swathe through the Nine like a combine harvester on angel dust, that had only been half the picture. Now, she was learning what the other half looked like.And it was
not
what she'd expected.As night fell over Brockton Bay, Taylor paused in an alley. Her lips twitched, as though she was talking to herself, then she nodded infinitesimally. Her musical accompaniment became a shade more pleased, though for what reason, Cherie had no idea.Shrugging off her backpack, she placed it on a piece of flattened cardboard to keep it out of the grime, then unzipped her hoodie. Underneath, she was wearing the formal shirt and tie of Atropos. She was also wearing the slacks and boots, but her body language had made her so forgettable that nobody had bothered to look twice at her.The hoodie went into the backpack, to be replaced by the long-coat, morph mask, gloves and hat. In a matter of seconds, the gawky, inconsequential schoolgirl was replaced by the
far
more noticeable—and dangerous—form of Atropos. Had Cherie not been aware of Taylor's emotional accompaniment the whole time, she would have seriously suspected some kind of split personality at work. As it was, the masked killer's harsh intensity of purpose never varied.Interestingly enough, Atropos didn't strap on the holstered pistol, but instead left it in the backpack. Not that she was in any way unarmed; Cherie had seen her proficiency with the oversized shears, and knew first-hand just how effective she was even without weapons. Although she was curious, she didn't venture a question. If Atropos wanted her to know why, Cherie would find out.Atropos led the way through a maze of alleyways, never missing her way despite the lowering dusk, somehow managing to cross side-streets when there were no passing cars or inconvenient spectators to catch them at it. Cherie was keeping a vigil on the surrounding people herself, but not once did she 'hear' a flare of music to indicate that they'd been seen. Atropos, she decided (not for the first time), was
scary
good at what she did.They stopped behind one particular shop, but between the darkness and the confusing route, Cherie couldn't have figured out where they were with a map and a GPS locator. For all she knew, they'd taken a side-trip to Chicago. Still, even with all she'd seen, she was impressed when Atropos stepped up to the back door of the shop—locked with an impressive-looking electronic code-box—and tapped in a lengthy string of digits. The door beeped agreeably and unlocked itself for them."Okay, what's this place?" murmured Cherie as they stepped inside. The door silently swung shut behind them; she looked around to find herself in a short corridor with a door marked STORES next to her. In the room at the end of the corridor, she could hear the music of what felt like an older man, engrossed in some intricate task or other. "Safe house?""Mm-mm." Atropos shook her head and held her finger to where her lips would be. Cherie took the hint and shut up, but it was too late. The music had changed; the man knew they were there.The
kchak-chak
sound she heard next chilled her to her heels. Everyone, but
everyone
knew the sound of a pump action shotgun chambering a round. But Atropos never lost her calm."I know you're back there," a voice called out. "Dunno how you punks got past the lock, but stick your head through the door and I
will
blow it the fuck off." And he would too, she knew.Atropos cleared her throat. "You don't want to do that, Mr Flaherty. Sorry to disturb you at this time of night, but I'm pretty sure I'd raise a few eyebrows if I walked in through your front door during business hours."There was a long pause, during which Cherie could detect doubt creeping into the shop owner's certainty. "Who's that?" he called out."You know who it is," Atropos replied. "I'm coming through." Turning her head toward Cherie, she made a
stay-here
gesture.Cherie was fine with that; the only way she was going through the doorway would be to turn down the aggressive intent of the man beyond to zero. Unfortunately, Atropos had told her not to use her power without permission, which took away that option.Moving with a fearless step, Atropos went through the open doorway, hands open to show that they were empty. The man's musical accompaniment changed abruptly from doubt to certainty, then fear. "Christ on the Cross, it
is
you," he said. "I've done nothing wrong, I swear." A clatter of metal suggested to her that he'd put the shotgun down. More than that, from the change in tone of voice and music, Cherie could've sworn she heard sweat springing out on his brow."Relax. I'm not here to hurt you." From the tone, Cherie was sure Atropos was smiling under the mask. "On the contrary, you're about to make a great deal of money."He hesitated, as though searching for the trap in what she was saying. "… I'm listening," he said at last."You
know
people," Atropos said, with a certainty that took it far out of the range of being a question. "People who collect weapons. Cape paraphernalia. The more infamous, the better. I have something for you. In return, I'd like to browse your shelves. I'm in need of a few bits and pieces."In that moment, she had him. Cherie could hear his music change yet again as the realisation went through his mind. Here, standing before him, was the girl who had killed more cape villains than any other person Cherie could name off the top of her head. If anyone could provide provenance for a piece of salvaged cape gear, it was her."What have you got?" His voice was a croak, as though his throat had suddenly gone dry."Two things," she said lightly. There was a faint clatter, as of something being dropped on a countertop. "The handle of Jack Slash's last knife, plus a little bit of blade. There's the bullet-hole where I shot it out of his hand.""Uh huh." He was trying desperately to sound nonchalant, but his thoughts were whirling. Atropos could've dropped a gold ingot on the floor for less effect. "And what was the other thing?"This time, the thump had rather more authority to it. "Oni Lee's pistol, plus his holster and gunbelt. It's what I shot him with. Also, what I used to punch the holes in Lung's head and chest before I burned him alive."Flaherty abandoned all pretext at calmness. "Jeeeesus Christ. I can't even … I know at least three people who would murder their own mothers to get these things into their private collections.""That's not my problem." Atropos' voice cut through the air like her shears had slashed through Nicholas' throat. "I'll leave it up to you to arrange the auction or sale or however you do it. I just need to pick up a few items, and then I'll be on my way.""Take whatever you need." There was an edge of hysteria to his voice. "I could buy my whole stock ten times over for what these are worth.""Thank you, I will. These are the keys to unlock the cases? Excellent." There was the sound of metal jingling, and another door opening.Cherie stayed right where she was, keeping tabs on the man in the next room and Atropos, as well as the surrounding area. Nothing untoward seemed to be going on, which was good. There was no treachery in his music, just a bubbling elation.A moment or so later, Cherie heard the sound of Atropos' footsteps coming back through. "Thank you, Mr Flaherty," she said politely. "And good night.""Sure, and you too." He paused. "Uh, you didn't take too long there."Again, Cherie was sure she was smiling. "That's okay. I knew what I was getting, and you didn't have any grenades.""Yeah, well, that shit's illegal. Quickest way I know to get your license revoked and end up inside the iron bar hotel for a nice long stretch."Her voice was full of approval. "And it's because you've never involved yourself in the illegal arms trade that I came to you. Good luck with your auction."He chuckled ruefully. "Come back anytime for any extras you might need. You've barely scratched the surface, there."
<><>
Taylor"I'll keep that in mind." Leaving Flaherty to gloat over the pieces I'd given him in trade, I went on through to where Cherie waited, the backpack now somewhat heavier. But that wasn't the only change I'd made to my outfit.In the front room, I'd found a bandolier of blades, wickedly sharp and balanced for throwing. It now resided under my long-coat, as did my new pistol, the holster clipped into my waistband. Oni Lee's weapon had served me well, and now it had fulfilled its final purpose; to get me more weapons with which to explain my unhappiness to those with whom I was unhappy.I gestured at the exit, and she led the way out to the alley beyond. As the door closed behind us, I heard the beginnings of a phone conversation. "Jay? Yeah, it's me. I need you to set up an auction. All the high rollers. The
big
money. I just got two pieces dropped in my lap …"Despite the multitudinous questions I could see in her eyes, Cherie didn't speak until we were several yards down the alleyway. Her eyes were wide as she stared at my new armament, including the sleek stockless shotgun slung over my right shoulder."Um, are you looking to start a war with all that?" she asked. "Because it looks to me like you really want to fuck someone's day up. Just saying.""Well, yes." Hadn't she figured that out about me already? "Fucking up the entire
existence
of anyone who pisses me off is kind of what I do. And right now, there are several people competing strongly for the distinction of being next on my list. Now, come on. We've got one more stop to make before we head back for dinner."Cherie had to lengthen her stride to keep up with me. "Yeah, but what are you going to pick up
now? You've already
gone
to a gun shop. And why didn't you grab something like an AR-15 or a Desert Eagle while you were there? You know, something with some real hitting power?"I ignored her first question. "Hitting power is for those with inadequate aiming capability.""What?""People who can't shoot straight." I turned briefly to look at her. "If a cape can be stopped by a high-powered bullet, they can also be stopped by a relatively low-powered one, too. You just need to shoot them in
exactly
the right place. Precision trumps brute force every time."We exited from the alley, and I turned toward the car that was idling at the curbside."Uh, there's someone in there …" Cherie trailed off, as though unsure what to say next."I know. This is our ride. Get in the back." I climbed into the front seat next to Dad, and pulled off my hat and mask. "Hey, Dad. This is Cherie. Cherie, meet my dad."Halfway into the back seat, Cherie froze as Dad turned to look at her. "Hi," he said neutrally. "Taylor vouches for you, so I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt. For your sake, I strongly suggest that you don't fuck up." Holding out his hand, he added, "You can call me Mr Hebert.""Uh … yes, sir. Mr Hebert." Cherie shook his hand awkwardly, then finished getting into the car. "Uh … how come you're so okay with … well, everything?"Dad smiled benignly as he turned back to look out through the windshield. "I've spent many years being angry at the corruption, short-sightedness and overall neglect that's been dragging this city down into the quagmire it's in today. I don't necessarily approve of Taylor's methods for cleaning the place up, but I sure as hell can't argue with the results. Just today, Mayor Christner asked me if I could maybe head a committee to apportion funds from the Slaughterhouse Nine bounties according to a plan that's coming in from outside. And that's what I intend to do.""Ninety-seven is just the start," I said. "There are a lot of capes out there who have upset a lot of people, enough to make them willing to pay bounties on their heads. And of course, there are the Endbringers."Dad frowned, while I got the impression Cherie had stopped breathing altogether."I didn't think there were bounties offered on the Endbringers?" he asked."Not officially, no," I agreed. "But I don't think it'll take much of a hint for them to throw money in Brockton Bay's direction once the Simurgh dies."Cherie showed she'd started breathing again when she let out a tiny squeak. "You're … you're going to fight the
Simurgh?""Hah, no," I scoffed. "If you fight someone, you have a chance of losing. I'm just going to
kill
her. Totally different situation."I meant it, and Cherie had to know I was serious, but she didn't sound reassured. "But
how?"Leaning back in my seat as Dad drove off, I smiled beatifically. "The same way I do all my kills. With the right weapon at the right time."
<><>
DannyFor someone who had apparently been inured to the supervillain life since she got powers, Cherie Vasil seemed to be thoroughly wrong-footed by Taylor's attitude. As they drove to their next stop, Danny got the strong impression that she'd originally sought out Taylor for protection, but was now wondering if she should be regretting that choice. Taylor seemed to be happy, and she was getting the results she wanted, so Danny had decided to go with the flow.Also, it was nice to not have the threat of the ABB and the Empire hanging over the Dockworkers for the first time in forever.Pulling into a darkened side street alongside the confectionary shop, Danny parked the car and stopped the engine. "I'll wait here.""Thanks. Cherie, stick with Dad. Let him know if anyone's coming." Taylor's voice was slightly muffled, as she was pulling the mask over her head, but it was perfectly understandable all the same."Um … okay. You don't want me with you?"Danny grinned; it seemed Taylor had acquired a rather clingy minion."Nope. I've got this." Taylor opened the door and stepped out of the car, then more or less vanished into the shadows.Danny did his best to relax, but it was difficult. He wasn't
used
to this. Taylor was the cape, not him. At this time of night, he was more accustomed to sitting at home and watching the news or whatever movie was playing."Does she do this often?" Cherie asked from the back seat, her voice barely audible. "Leave you wondering what she's doing and why, I mean."He chuckled and shook his head. "All the time these days, it feels like. She prefers to work alone, but she's very good at that. Now why she chose to take
you
on I'm still not sure, but I'm not about to second-guess her choices.""Oh." From the tone of her voice, he got the impression she wasn't so sure either.They sat in silence for another thirty seconds or so, until his curiosity overcame him. "So, how
did
she end up with you as a minion, anyway?""Well, it started with me being an idiot." She drew a deep breath. "I thought I could get around her, but I ignored the fact that she was reacting to what I was doing in real-time. So, when I was trying to get information about her out of one of the other girls, I stopped paying attention to her. That was when she snuck up and kicked the snot out of me. The next thing I knew, she was telling me the rules she expected me to follow. And here we are."The car door opened, and Taylor slipped into the front seat. "And here I am," she finished brightly. Cradled under her left arm was a flat blocky object, encased in one of the confectionary shop's logo-emblazoned bags. "Miss me?"Danny was impressed despite himself. "Hardly. You weren't even gone five minutes. We barely had time to start talking about you behind your back.""Meh." Taylor snorted as she peeled off the morph mask again. "Their security wasn't exactly top shelf."Cherie leaned forward between the seats. "What is it, anyway?"Taylor chuckled. "I'll show you later. Right now, I'm hungry. Home for dinner, Dad?"Danny started the car. "Sounds good to me."She'd be going out again as Atropos afterward, he knew, but right now he was going to enjoy spending quality time with his daughter.And
that
was worth all the money in the world.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
CanadaHeartbreakerNikos Vasil did not get angry very often. He didn't have to; anyone making him angry learned very quickly why that was a bad idea. Terrifying them to the point that they didn't speak for six months was a simple matter for him, and considerably satisfying besides. The world, with a very few exceptions, existed to serve his needs, and he didn't mind providing reminders when necessary.He was angry now. A member of his in-group, tasked with maintaining a watch on the doings of the world at large, had brought the Parahumans Online posts to his attention. Many were speaking about this new cape Atropos, but the subforum most closely followed by those in the know was the one that she herself had started.Still, that would not have been enough to make him angry, even when he read the post where she arbitrarily banned him from ever visiting her city. A substantial number of other capes and organisations were also prohibited from intruding on her home town, some of them prominent enough that he would've been leery about drawing their attention. So it was, then; a small yappy dog barking at bigger dogs from what she considered to be a safe distance. Mere noise.But then he read the post where she straight-up
taunted
him with the loss of no fewer than four of his children. Jean-Paul, whom he'd heard no word of since the ungrateful little shit decamped in the middle of the night; Cherie, who had followed her younger brother's example when he was distracted by the Sidney Saile debacle; and Guillaume and Nicholas, who he'd dispatched to find at least Cherie and drag her back to where she belonged by any means necessary.One was dead and another in PRT custody, that much he knew. The fates of the other two, he had no idea of. The online commentator Bagrat, who claimed to understand Atropos as well as anyone, made it clear that he believed her implicitly but that he had no idea where the others were.The most fury-inducing aspect of this whole thing was that he had no idea who had died and who had been arrested. Where the arrestee was being held and what charges were going to be levelled, the media either didn't know or they were being remarkably tight-lipped about the whole thing. As the latter would be an unequivocal first for any bunch of media outlets anywhere, he was leaning toward 'didn't know'.This much he did know; once he had Atropos under his sway, if Jean-Paul was one of the survivors, the little traitor would never speak or act under his own initiative ever again. If he had to be hamstrung and his tongue cut out to achieve this, then so be it. But he—or Cherie, if it turned out he was dead—would
serve as a permanent warning to the rest of his children that
nobody ran from Nikos Vasil.The car was packed and ready to go. He would be travelling mainly through the back roads at night, just in case the authorities were more alert than normal and anticipated this move. Nobody would be accompanying him; he needed no assistance to subjugate the will of one overconfident vigilante.Standing tall in the middle of the main room, he surveyed his devoted flock, mainly women and children. "You will not leave the grounds. You will wait for my return." He exerted his will, burning the command into their minds. Turning, he made to leave the house, then paused and looked back at them. "If you hear of my death …
end your own lives."Satisfied that no matter what happened, his people would never belong to another man, he left the house and got into the car. For the purposes of this trip, he had shaved his beard and cut his hair, and was using a set of fake ID supplied by a cooperative law enforcement officer. Fastening his seatbelt, he started the car and moved off down the driveway.His destination: Brockton Bay. His chosen target: Atropos.If anyone could tell him where his living children were, she could.And of course, he could never have too many women in the house.
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A Hundred Miles West of Boston"What the
fuck?"Animos looked around from the game of poker he was playing with Hemorrhagia and Spree. Vex was driving, which meant Butcher was taking some time to scroll through the local internet on her phone. He'd seen her browser history, but he wasn't one to judge. Whatever floated her boat, was his philosophy.Though in her case, it was a derelict pirate ship that had been dredged up from the bottom of the ocean with some really fucked-up sea life still clinging to it."What?" he asked, mildly impressed that she'd actually found something worse than what she deliberately chose to look at."Who the fuck is this Atropos bitch?" she half-screamed. "Does she honestly think she can tell
me
to stay out of her city? Out of
Brockton Bay? The Teeth used to
run
that shithole!""Oh, crap," muttered Hemorrhagia, sharing a glance with Animos and echoing his own inner monologue. They'd caught a few mentions of Atropos and what she'd been up to over the last week, but they'd decided by mutual silent agreement to not mention any of it to Butcher. What she'd done to Lung and Skidmark was beyond messed up, and that was from the point of view of someone who ran with the
Teeth."Uh, hey," Spree ventured. "Maybe we should just leave them to their hometown shit and hit someplace where they
don't
stab people through the eye with swords, or shoot them in the face with their own gun?""Are you fucking kidding?" Butcher shook her head. "If I'm reading this right, Lung and Oni Lee are fucking dead. Kaiser's dead, and the rest of the Empire Eighty-Eight just left town. I don't even know who Coil
was,
but he's dead too. There's basically no villains left in that damn city to stand in our way. It's wide open for the taking."Animos realised as he opened his mouth that he was going to do something he'd never done before. Something that was against his entire state of being.He was going to try to be the voice of reason."Except she's killing villains coming in, too," he said. "She fuckin'
wrecked
the Slaughterhouse Nine." The forty-three-minute clip had shown that no matter how fucked-up Atropos' previous murders were, they definitely weren't flukes. "Do we really want to go there?""Jack Slash was a one-trick pony with a big mouth," Butcher said dismissively. "He wasn't
me, and he definitely wasn't all that.""Didn't the Nine basically wipe out the Teeth, back in the day?" asked Vex from the driver's seat. "And she just killed off the Nine, like she was going out to buy groceries and they were in the way.""Not that Nine, and not this Teeth." Butcher's tone was assured. "And that was a few Butchers ago, too. We got more powers, and we're a lot better at what we do."
I'm a lot better at this than that Butcher, was what she was saying. She was probably getting yelled at right now by whichever Butcher she'd just dissed, but her expression never changed."Still, she killed
Lung—" Animos began. The ABB cape had a reputation that extended beyond the city limits of Brockton Bay. Or rather, he
had
had one.Butcher rolled her eyes theatrically. "What the fuck can she
do
to me? Nothing she's done to anyone else is going to even come close to hurting me. I'm bullet-proof and stab-proof, if she dropped me in front of a moving vehicle the asphalt would break before I did, I can teleport away from anything bigger, and if she
does
bring up something that can kill me I'll know about it before she tries! Also, I can fuckin' see her heart and arteries through walls, I can
target
her better than she can target me,
and
I can hit her with my powers from a distance! And even if by some fucked-up miracle she kills me, I still beat her. I. Fucking. Win."She had a point, but Animos couldn't help wondering if the other capes Atropos had killed had thought the same way. "Okay, yeah, but—""But
nothing.
Vex, we're heading to Brockton Bay. There's a little bitch I've got a bone to pick with there."Vex shrugged. "Okay. We're heading to Brockton Bay."And so, the van rolled on through the night.
<><>
Hebert HouseholdCherishNo clock chimed; Taylor didn't even glance at her watch. But between one moment and the next, her emotional music changed key from 'relaxed' to 'purposeful'. "Okay, time to commence Operation Drugs Are Bad, part two. Dad, could you give us a lift?""Sure." Taylor's father got up from where he'd been casually chatting with them, and stretched. "Where are we going?""The Docks, to start with." Taylor was on her feet as well, shrugging into the long-coat and slinging the backpack holding the rest of her costume over her shoulder. She was already wearing the suit and boots, though she'd unfastened the tie to hang loosely around her neck. Cherie had seen how fast she could don the rest of it, apparently without even having to think about it.Cherie cleared her throat. "That's the, uh, that's the fortified drug warehouse, right?" Taylor had mentioned this over dinner. She wasn't being grim and gritty like some wannabe action hero; it was just another check-box to be ticked off before the city was cleared of all illegal hard drugs. They would be removed. It was as simple as that.Taylor gave her a grin, her music dipping into happier strains for a moment. "That's the one. You're paying attention; that's good."It felt weird to be praised for doing something, as opposed to being punished for
not
doing it. In fact, the entire dinner episode had been totally outside her experience. Mealtimes in the Vasil household usually involved the women subtly jockeying for the position of her father's favourite, and the children eating in near-silence, doing their best to not catch Nikos' attention.Here, Taylor had chatted with her father, arguing good-naturedly over several minor topics, and even roped Cherie into the conversation to ask for her opinion on something. There were no pitfalls, no traps, no gotchas. Nobody tried to trick her into saying or doing something that would get her in trouble. Once she'd reached the astonishing realisation that she didn't have to watch every single word she uttered, it had become
enjoyable
in a way that she'd never thought possible.The food had been as pleasant as the company. She hadn't been denied a portion; Danny had simply made more. While her experience of home-cooked lasagne was essentially zero, it had been tasty and filling.
I could totally get used to this.Whatever she'd been expecting when she decided on Atropos as a protector, it wasn't
this.
On the one hand, there was the skinny teenager who helped with the washing-up and stuck her tongue out at her father when he made a terrible pun; on the other, the black-clad avenging angel who had the Brockton Bay underworld terrified. There was no real way she could make the two fit together. They were almost literally night and day."Thanks," she said, giving Taylor a tentative smile in return. "So, how are we going to handle this?"Taylor chuckled, leading the way to the back door. "That's where you come in. I'm not going to stop killing people who totally deserve it, but I've only got so much ammunition. The last time I did something like this, I got Grue to help out by clouding the place in his darkness. It worked well enough, but I like changing things up, so this time I decided to do things a different way. Tell me; if you were faced with a warehouse full of mooks armed to the teeth, how long would it take you to bring them to the point that they didn't even want to put up a fight?"It was an interesting challenge, but Cherie found herself hanging up on a different topic as she headed down the back steps. "Wait a minute. We only met this afternoon.
How
long have you been planning to use my abilities to do this?"Taylor waited for Danny to lock the back door, then followed him toward the car. "Oh, a couple of days now."Cherie frowned. "But … I only
got
into town a day or so ago.""Mm-hmm." Once Danny had unlocked the car, Taylor opened the passenger side door. Pausing before sliding into the car, she looked across the roof of the vehicle toward Cherie. "You seem to be assuming I didn't see you coming." Her emotional accompaniment was leaning toward sly amusement."But … but …" Cherie found herself talking to thin air as Taylor got into the car. Opening her own door, she climbed in as well. "But …
how long have you known?""Long enough." Taylor pulled a mobile phone from her pocket. "I need to make a call now, mmkay?" She put her finger to her lips."Okay." Numbly, Cherie sat back and fastened her seatbelt. If Taylor wasn't somehow spoofing her power and pulling her leg, then Atropos' abilities were even scarier than Cherie had figured.She knew exactly where I'd be, and when to grab me up. And I walked right into it. Of my own free will, even.The epiphany should've been terrifying, but she found it somehow comforting. If Atropos had seen
her
coming and known exactly how to deal with her, then her father should stand no chance at all.She hoped.
<><>
On a BusDamsel of DistressAs the bus trundled out of Stafford, Ashley leaned back against the seat and let her head loll sideways until she was looking out the window. She'd been here before; not on this bus, but in this situation. The last time, she'd seen on the news that the Boston villain population had been rolled up, leaving the underworld ripe for picking.That had been four years ago; she'd taken the bus that time, too. For a while she'd done well for herself, but the scheming and treachery of the other villain gangs had undermined her until she'd had no choice but to retreat back to Stafford, her old stamping grounds. But her feet were getting itchy again, and this time it was Brockton Bay that was suffering from a distinct lack of villainous activity.Edict and Licit wouldn't even know she was gone for a few days, though they probably suspected she'd make a play for Brockton Bay. All she had to do as soon as she got into town was start recruiting from the pool of disaffected teenagers that made up a significant portion of the population of any reasonably-sized city. The two heroes
would
follow her once they knew where she was, but her minions would give them pause.
And I'll finally get the foothold I deserve.She'd heard about Atropos, of course, and how she'd been the reason the previous villains left town. It didn't bother her; she was good at keeping her head down while she recruited. By the time Atropos even discovered she was in town, it would be a done deal. And if the cape killer wanted to face her off, then … well, Ashley had killed before, too. One more wouldn't matter to her.Ready or not, here I come.
<><>
Stafford, New HampshireLicitbrrt brrtbrrt brrtbrrt brrtHe reached for the phone. Fumbled it into position. Not a number he knew. He swiped to answer anyway. "H'lo?""Good evening, Licit."
The voice on the other end was a teenage girl, not anyone he knew, though it was naggingly familiar.
"Are you aware that Damsel of Distress took the night bus to Brockton Bay? She's due to get here at three in the morning. I strongly advise you and Edict to meet me at the Brockton Bay Port Authority bus terminal. Or not; your choice.""Wha …?" He tried to make sense of what the girl was saying. "Who is this? How do you know?""This is Atropos." Adrenaline sent a shot of wakefulness down his spine at that name.
"I know because I'm very good at what I do. I'll be giving Damsel of Distress exactly two options; leave town, or die. With you and Edict there, she's less likely to do something stupid. Three AM. Brockton Bay Port Authority bus terminal. Don't be late."The call ended, leaving him holding a dead phone to his ear.Slowly, he sat up and swung his legs over the side of his bed. Behind him, the girl he'd picked up at the bar only a couple of hours ago rolled over and mumbled something in her sleep. He ignored her.For fuck's sake. Edict is going to absolutely kill me.Her number was in his phone. They were superhero partners, so of course it was. Standing up, he padded into the kitchen and started the coffee-maker going. As it gurgled to life, he hit dial on her number.The phone almost rang out before she answered. "So help me, if this isn't an earth-shattering emergency, I'm going to—""Damsel's on her way to Brockton Bay," he interrupted. "Atropos herself called and gave me the heads-up. If we're not there by three, Atropos is going to kill her."There was a long pause.
"Fuck. Okay. Can we take your car?""We can do that." Hopefully, the PRT would reimburse him for the fuel expenditure. "I can be around at yours in half an hour." Most of that time would be taken up with showering and kicking the girl out of his apartment; the drive itself would take five minutes."I'll see you then."
She ended the call.The first cup of coffee was ready. He took a mouthful of the hot, black brew, feeling the caffeine sparking his neurons to life. Now he had to drive to Brockton Bay of all places, just to save the life of a supervillain who didn't want to be saved.And people wonder why I've got a drinking problem.
<><>
CherishFully costumed up, Atropos leaned down by the driver's side window. "You've got that other address I told you about?""Right here." Mr Hebert held up the notepad."Good." The morph mask hid Atropos' expression, but Cherie could tell from the tone of her voice and the musical accompaniment that she was smiling. "Wait exactly three minutes before you drive away, then meet us there."He nodded seriously. "Three minutes. Got it."Atropos lightly slapped the car roof, then turned and headed toward where Cherie was waiting. "Okay, showtime. Let's get a little closer.""Why did you want him to wait three minutes?" asked Cherie. "Wouldn't it be better to get there now?""Because there's roving patrols driving around," Atropos explained. "If he takes off right now, he gets the attention of a bunch of heavily armed assholes. Three minutes will put him between sweeps.""Oh." Cherie raised her head slightly and concentrated on what she was listening to. "Ah, I see them now. They're trying to put on a bold front, but most of them are scared of you. More greedy than scared, though. Someone's throwing a
ton
of money at this." But even with all the money, there was a persistent undercurrent of fear that she wouldn't have any trouble at all magnifying."That's because the profits of being the only drug supplier in a city this size would be phenomenal." Atropos started off down the street. "The warehouse is a block thataway, and the waterfront's the other side of it. If you breathe deeply, you can smell the rotting seaweed.""Oh, that's what that is?" Cherie caught up with her, lengthening her stride to keep pace. "I'd wondered.""Well, wonder no longer." Atropos paused just short of a section of street, and nodded to her. "The closest sniper. I need him distracted for the next thirty seconds.""Just him? Okay, then." Cherie concentrated for about thirty seconds, then nodded as soon as her target's attention was well away from that section of street. "Okay, he's totally spaced out. Not looking this way at all.""Good." They crossed the road at a hustle anyway, and ducked into cover once more. "When we get a little closer, I'm going to need you to start pulling down their work ethic. All of them. Whatever's motivating them to do their best job today, I want you to erode that until they just can't give a damn.""Okay." Cherie paused, wondering if she should say what she was thinking. Atropos had been a perfectly reasonable boss so far, but there were always limits."What?" Atropos asked. "I'm not going to yell at you for asking questions."Cherie shrugged.
Well, in for a penny …
"Okay, they all know you're coming. Why don't I just ramp up their fear of you, so when you show yourself, they shit themselves and run for it?""That's plan B." Atropos gave her a nod, and Cherie heard the music signal her approval. "There's three reasons why it's not plan A. Firstly, some people react badly to fear. They attack whatever they're scared of instead of running, or before running. Secondly, I need to destroy the drugs, and some of these idiots are carrying the grenades I need to do it with. If they're running away, they're not waiting around for me to take the grenades off them."Cherie blinked. "They're carrying
grenades?" That sounded like a remarkably stupid idea, and
she'd
originally been planning to join the Slaughterhouse Nine. "What are they planning on doing with them?"Atropos snorted. "They've got orders for if they see me in hand to hand with their buddies, to toss the grenades in anyway. It seems they're willing to lose men just to stop me.""Jesus." Cherie shook her head. "And you're just going to take them and blow up the drugs?""There's a few more steps than that, but you've hit on the general idea, yeah.""Wait, you said there's three reasons. What's the third one?"Atropos tilted her head slightly. "Did you
want
people to know you're working for me?""Oh. Yeah. Good point." While Atropos seemed to thrive on publicity, Cherie had no desire to be any more visible than absolutely necessary. "So, what do we do now?""You wait right here." Atropos patted her on the shoulder. "When you hear the signal, start winding back their motivation. I'll take it from there.""Signal?" This was the first Cherie had heard of a signal. "What signal?""Oh, you'll know it when you hear it."
<><>
AtroposI left Cherie where she was and headed down the nearest alley. This region of the Docks was well away from any residential areas, and I knew the drug guys had cleared out the local homeless in case any of them happened to be me in disguise. Not that I personally cared about collateral damage, but it was the image of the thing. Also, the lower I was able to keep the incidental death toll (it was never going to be zero), the easier it would be for the PRT to rationalise cooperating with me in cleaning up the city and keeping it that way.They had four snipers in place, each on top of a separate building around the actual warehouse. The snipers could see every approach road, and all of them had an 84mm anti-tank weapon standing by in case I came in with a chopper or a tank or something. However, they weren't the ones with the grenades. Those were the ones on the roof of the warehouse itself.I had to admit, I was almost impressed. Gesellschaft (they still had people in the smuggling industry, even after the Empire had crumbled) had decided to go all-out, and they'd kicked the armoury doors wide open to do it. After what I'd done to Accord's warehouse, there was to be no holding back. There were more rounds of ammunition ready to be used in and around that one building than anywhere but the nearest National Guard base.This was going to be
fun.Getting closer involved cheating like hell with my power to know exactly when the snipers were looking in the wrong direction, then choking out the guard who was guarding the sniper's building. (I could've stabbed him, but blood is
horrible
for corrosion on steel weapons, so I preferred to restrict it for when I absolutely needed to). Then I screwed the suppressor onto the pistol I'd taken from the gun shop, and climbed the ladder up toward where he had his sniper nest.It took him a few seconds, as I climbed into view, to realise that I wasn't his buddy here to relieve him. At that moment, he had a choice to make: to go for the pistol lying beside him, to try to swing the rifle around, or to surrender. For my part, I'd already made my choice. While it was entirely possible to get a kill-shot with a thrown blade, it was messy and inefficient. Besides, I had a suppressed pistol. It was even in view, while I gave him the chance to give up.He chose … poorly.His hand was still inches from the pistol when I put a suppressed round through his head, the heavy THWACK of the shot just quiet enough to confuse anyone nearby as to whether or not that had been actual gunfire. Climbing up into the sniper nest, I holstered the pistol, feeding the suppressor through the hole I'd made in the bottom of the clip-on holster. He'd been carrying a nine-mil as well, so I dropped the magazine out of it and put it in my pocket; spare ammunition was always good to have.Then I took up the sniper rifle. It had a very nice night-vision scope, but I didn't bother with that. Bringing the butt to my shoulder, I fired into the darkness three times in quick succession. The third sniper had just enough time to start turning toward me when my bullet extracted what was inside his skull and put it outside his skull; the other two didn't even have a chance to do that.That got the attention of the guys in the ambush-position on the roof of the main warehouse. Their trouble was, they didn't know if the shooting was a good thing or a bad thing. While they were wasting time calling over the radio net to find out what the sniper was firing at (the sniper's two-way radio was going
nuts), I picked out the ones who were starting to realise the truth.There were six of them; unfortunately for them, I knew where they were and they didn't know which way to duck. It was almost child's play for me to take them out, barely pausing between shots. The last one survived a fraction longer than the others, but only because I had to put the rifle down and pick up the sniper's pistol. One more shot, and they were all down.Discarding the now-empty pistol, I grabbed the AT-4, slinging it over my shoulder. There was still a high barbed-wire fence around the warehouse, as well as a bunch of armed guards inside. Also, Gesellschaft's highest-ranking non-cape in the United States. Taking him alive and handing him over to the PRT would probably count for a few Brownie points, I figured, but I wasn't married to the idea. If it turned out to be easier to just kill him, he'd die.Cherie would've figured out that the signal had been given by now, so she'd be reinforcing the idea of,
'do I really want to die defending a bunch of drugs?'. Given my previous exploits, they had plenty of reason to be scared, and the longer I let them dwell on it (and the longer Cherie worked on their fears) the better the result I'd get. I mean, I could've done this anyway without her, but this way was a lot easier.Leaving the sniper nest, I headed across the building roof to the gap between it and the main warehouse. There was a cable strung across the fifty-foot gap, covered in bird shit and probably slippery as hell. Any self-respecting high-wire artist, upon seeing it, would back away slowly.To me, on the other hand, it could've been a paved walkway with a hand-rail. I just let my power take the reins and it walked me across with never a pause or hesitation. Just like when I'd been shooting the other snipers, I was just along for the ride, allowing it to guide all my movements down to the most infinitesimal of muscular twitches.I'd expected a lot more commotion below as I was looting the guys on the roof of their grenades, spare ammunition and (in one case) the keys to a vehicle, but it seemed Cherie was doing her job just fine. Only one or two people seemed to be actually shouting and running around, including our friend from the Gesellschaft hierarchy. The rest were doing their best to look and sound as though they were just as enthusiastic, but for some odd reason their hearts just weren't in it.It was time to move along to the last stage of the plan. Our man from Gesellschaft had—through careful detective work and the fact that nobody was answering the radio on the rooftop—deduced that I was up there. While I
could
have mimicked their voices, that would've merely wasted a little time. I was already well away from the dead men when he gave orders to fire up through the roof.Toward the rear of the warehouse was a closed-in yard, containing the vehicles belonging to the warehouse guards. As those within the warehouse shattered the skylight (great going, guys) and set about turning that section of the roof into a reasonable approximation of a colander, I was already over at the corner nearest the vehicle collection point. The distance to the ground was a little farther than I really wanted to drop, especially on to concrete. I could
do
it and get away with only minor injuries, but I didn't want to if I didn't have to, such as when someone had thoughtfully left a rope secured there for rappelling down with. Say, for if an unstoppable black-clad killer was murdering all their buddies and they just needed to get away.(If they hadn't, I would've brought my own rope. It's as simple as that).By the time I kicked the coil of rope over the side there were men moving around outside, shining flashlights upward. I started rappelling down one-handed anyway. On the way down, two men spotted me. One went to shoot, so I shot him first. The other turned and bolted in the other direction; I let him go.As soon as my boots hit the ground, I headed for the assembled vehicles. There was an armed guard on them, mainly to prevent any of the other guards from bugging out ahead of time. When he saw me, he froze, then screamed and ran for it.I frowned, then shrugged. Cherie was clearly trying to help, and this time it had worked. If it screwed up, I'd have words with her, but until then I'd leave it be. Putting the matter out of my mind, I zeroed in on the vehicle I was looking for, a solidly built pickup with a massive bull-bar on the front and a light-bar on top. The keys I'd filched from the guy on the roof opened the door, and I climbed in. The AT-4 went onto the passenger seat, beside me.If I were a 'car' person, the way the engine rumbled to life would've been hugely satisfying to me. As it was, I figured it would serve my purposes for the time being. Backing out of the parking spot, I aimed at the rear roller-door leading into the warehouse, revved the engine to a thunderous roar, and dropped the clutch.The back wheels left a massive spray of gravel as I powered toward the roller-door, accelerating all the way. I had just enough time to flick the switches for
all
the lights before the heavy vehicle smashed headlong into the door and tore it clear off its runners. The steering wheel jerked, but I'd anticipated that and countered it; in the next instant, I was powering through the warehouse itself, all the guards still inside turning to look at me.This
was where Cherie's emotion damping came in handy. Instead of testosterone-fuelled aggression, virtually all the guards decided to back way the hell off when I came roaring on through. One guy with a rifle was trying to line up on me—I figured he just liked hurting people more than he liked living—so I shot him on the way past. The others backed up a hell of a lot more, after that.The drugs were packed up on pallets spaced through the warehouse, with enough room for vehicles to drive between them. I decided to test that by not just driving, but
drifting
between the various pallets, the back wheels of my newly acquired ride howling and spewing grey-black rubber smoke. This added a certain amount of visual cover for me, and gave the already-demoralised guards a good reason to fall back even farther.One of the few men there who had a good reason to oppose me was the Gesellschaft rep. He came running out toward me with a pistol raised, firing. Whoever had taught him was
good; he put three holes in the windshield about where my head would've been if I hadn't already ducked. Then I spun the pickup around so the loadbed smacked him sideways into a pallet of heroin and fentanyl.While he lay there groaning, I pulled up next to him and jumped out. Opening the passenger side door, I loaded him into the footwell, then slashed the side of the pallet wrapping and grabbed a single packet. Before the guards could pull together enough courage to see what was going on, I was back in the pickup and revving the engine again. Now was the time to go for gold.Popping the clutch again, I shot out across the floor, then pulled a tyre-shrieking turn as though I were attempting to escape out through the hole I'd come in by. But I didn't go all the way. Instead, I pulled a U-turn and started back, weaving between the pallets.This time, however, I was steering with my knees, pulling grenades from my long-coat pockets and yanking the pins free. Each time I passed a pallet, I tossed a grenade so it would land either on top or underneath it. Halfway through, I had to smack Mr Gesselschaft with his own pistol so he'd go back to nap-time, but I made sure every grenade found a good home.I lacked the string I'd had the first time around, but then again, I really didn't think I needed it. I also didn't have a road flare, but I
definitely
didn't need one of those. By the time I was almost through, the first grenades were starting to go off, so the pickup was swerving and pitching ahead of a steadily growing cloud of various intoxicants and opioids. As soon as I got rid of the last grenade, it was too close behind me, so I aimed at the front roller-door and
floored
it.Again, I tore the metal door clear off its runners; the paintwork was badly scratched, and I was pretty sure the lightbar was no longer of this world. I rocketed out of the warehouse just ahead of the (thankfully unignited) aforementioned cloud of liberated variably toxic substances. The barbed-wire wrapped gate didn't do the paintwork any favours at all either, but I honestly didn't give a fuck. All I wanted to do was to get out of the blast radius.All the grenades I'd thrown, except the last one, had detonated outside the cloud, merely contributing to it instead of blowing up
inside
it. Just as I got to the road, the last one went off, and six point five ounces of Composition B struck a massive spark.
This
ignited the cloud.If anything, the explosion was bigger than the last one, slamming the pickup sideways and (I found later) blistering the paintwork. The vehicle briefly went up on two wheels, but I fought it down again and regained control.I didn't know who had gotten out, and I didn't care. The less motivated they were, the more likely they would've decamped as soon as I arrived. Which meant the ones who had stayed were those who were most determined to maintain the drug trade in my city.Sucked to be them.The pickup was still rocking on its wheels when I pulled it to a halt. I paused briefly to admire the massive fireball currently climbing skyward to form the second mushroom cloud that I'd ever made before I pulled open the passenger side door and dragged out the Gesellschaft rep. Just for being nearby, he'd be checked out by the authorities, but I made sure of it by using his own pistol to shoot him through the kneecap.
Walk that one off, asshole.As I got back in and drove off, leaving Hopalong to his richly-deserved fate, I could already hear the sirens approaching. They must've had every truck ready and waiting, after my earlier warning. I wouldn't even have to tell them where it was.Cherie was still where I'd left her; of course, she knew it was me driving, so she came out to meet me. She frowned at the AT-4 and the packet of drugs when she climbed in, but didn't ask the obvious question."Drug dealers," I said. "They give out the
best
party favours.""Okay." Her tone of voice very clearly stated that she was going to leave that comment
well
alone. "So, uh, where are we going now?"I grinned under the mask as I put the pickup in gear. "One down, one to go."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
DannyWhen he first saw the pickup rolling down the street, Danny had to do a double-take. It had, at one point, been lovingly cared for and maintained by its owner; while not an afficionado, he could tell the signs. But it had definitely fallen upon hard times since then. The windshield was cracked all the way across, and utterly shattered around the driver's side in a way that indicated gunfire. More bullet-holes pocked the chassis, both wing mirrors were gone, the once-glossy paintwork was horrifically scratched and dented (and
peeling
down to the bare metal all the way along the entire passenger side), and bare wires were sticking up from the roof of the cab where he guessed there'd once been a lightbar.And then it pulled in and parked behind him.Crap,
he thought.
Taylor said to wait here. I can't just drive off and leave her hanging.
Taylor had left her shotgun with him; if they came up to menace him—Both doors of the pickup opened and the girls got out, Taylor still dressed in her full Atropos costume. Danny sagged in the car seat, both grateful that she was okay (and that he wouldn't have to threaten some stranger) and wondering what the
hell
she'd been through with that pickup to get it into that state. Over her shoulder, she was lugging a strange military-looking tubular device."Hey, Dad," she said, a smirk in her tone, as she strolled up to his window. "Did I have you worried there for a moment?""Watch it, young lady," he said, mock-threateningly. "You're still not too old to be grounded, you know." As he spoke, he saw Cherie staring at him from behind Taylor. She had to know he wasn't serious, but she still looked like she couldn't believe what he was saying."Aww," she said with saccharine sweetness. "It's adorable that you think you'll catch me."He shook his head. "You're only Atropos some of the time. But let's shelve that for a moment. I presume it went okay? I heard the explosion on the way here.""Drugs are toast, and so are most of the bad guys," she reported cheerfully. "Oh, and I took one of Gesellschaft's unpowered reps alive. Shot him through the knee and left him for the authorities.""Let me guess." He let his tone become dry. "This means you're acquiring even more enemies as we speak?""Not yet," she countered lightly. "But give it a day or so. Anyway, can you pass me the shotgun and a couple of road flares? The Elites' drug guys have decided to pull a Skidmark, and just drive around for a bit. I need to go explain to them that yes, I can actually see them.""No problem, hon. But you might want to put that thing in the back seat. What is it, anyway?"She opened the back door and slid the device into the footwell. "It's a Saab Bofors AT-4 anti-tank weapon. They had a few lying around, so I souvenired one. Neat, huh?""That's
one
way to put it." He reached down into her bag and passed up the sleek, deadly weapon, as well as the flares. "Want me to wait here, or go somewhere else?""Nah, here should do." She slapped the roof of the car. "Cherie can wait with you. This'll only take another few minutes.""Of
course
it will," he murmured. As Taylor headed back to the pickup, the passenger door opened and Cherie got into the car. "And how are we doing tonight, kid? Not too terrified yet?""Oh, she's leaving me back out of the action." Cherie shook her head. "What's terrifying is watching people getting too close to her in a firefight and just … dying. It's like I've got these little songbirds in my head, all singing away … okay, they're assholes, so the songs are pretty nasty and gross, but they're singing happily about murdering people and selling drugs, and the next minute she's there, and it's like
pop-pop-pop, they're just vanishing mid-song."He chuckled darkly. "Yeah, that sounds like my little girl, alright. I wish there was literally any other way to achieve what she's doing, but I've given twenty years of my life to Brockton Bay for less in the way of impact than she's gotten in a week.""Okay, now you've got me confused." She paused as the pickup started and drove up the street, then disappeared around the corner. "Your emotions say you disapprove of her methods, the way you talk about them says the same thing, but you're not even trying to stop her?"He opened his mouth to speak then paused, looking at her carefully. "Okay, I'm getting the impression your home life wasn't the best. Let me guess: everything your dad approved of happened whether you liked it or not, and everything he disapproved of was forbidden?"She blinked. "Well … yes?" The unspoken
'isn't that always the way?'
came across quite clearly."Mm-hmm," he murmured. "Well, even before Taylor got her powers, we did things slightly differently. For big matters, like paying bills and going to school, what I said was what happened. With smaller things, if Taylor had an opinion about them, I'd listen to her and if it made sense, we'd do it that way. And of course, if there was something I had no opinion about and she had the allowance to cover it, like buying herself a new pair of sneakers, she could handle it herself."The weight of her stare was almost palpable. "And you don't
mind
not being in control of everything?""Well, no." He chuckled wryly. "It wasn't a perfect system. She didn't tell me until
after
she got her powers that she was being bullied by her ex-best friend, and I … well, I fell down on my Dad duties there for a while after I lost her mother. But now we're finding our way back to each other. And to answer your original question; I don't like what she's doing, and I don't like that she has to do it. But … the people she's killed have contributed
massively
to the ongoing problems in Brockton Bay, and they just would've kept doing it for the foreseeable future if they weren't stopped somehow."Cherie was frowning hard, as though trying to assimilate a difficult concept. "So, it's a case of the ends …
justifying
the means?" She spoke the phrase as though she'd once heard it but never understood it before this point."More or less, yeah," he agreed. "But there's more to it than that. She's actually getting solid results; I have it on good authority that the crime rate is dropping by the day. The PRT and the BBPD are coming down on the gangs harder than ever, now that the capes that used to back them won't be coming back. But on top of that, she's also working to
maintain
those results, keeping other villains out of the city. The trouble is, there'll be pushback from people who have a vested interest in returning matters to the status quo. There always is."Tellingly, she didn't ask what sort of people those were. He suspected her father was the type who
definitely
wanted to keep the status quo just the way it was; heavily weighted in his favour. "She wrote up a big list of capes when she was telling everyone to stay away," she said at last. "Do you think they'll all try to come here?""Some of them won't." He'd read the post from the Red Hands. "Some will. Because no cape that's ever gone undefeated can imagine losing. But if they come here, one thing's for certain.""What's that?"He was just about to answer when he heard the sound of revving engines, screeching tyres, and gunshots. About three or four blocks ahead, an eighteen-wheeler roared into sight from around the corner, taking up the whole intersection to negotiate the turn. Danny heard the gut-deep
thnk brrrm
thnk brrrm
as the driver changed up; smoke poured out of the twin overhead exhausts in the glare of the streetlights. Behind it came another one, sticking close to the first one. The gear-changes, echoing down the concrete canyon of the street, were a little less smooth than the first one.Danny had a sudden flashback to a nature documentary he'd seen of elephants stampeding away from a pride of lions. This had that same panicked quality of action.Behind the second semi-trailer, a sports car skidded into view, spinning out of control across the intersection with rubber shredding from its tyres. Danny caught a glimpse of a shattered windshield and an arm hanging limply out the driver's side window before it broadsided into an electricity pole, wrapping itself into a complicated wreck around the obstruction.Even as this happened, Taylor's pickup came around the corner in a solid four-wheel drift, belying the fact that Brockton Bay streets tended to be patchworks of asphalt rather than a continuous smooth surface. The big tyres howled and juddered, but she kept to the line like a ballerina, swooping around the corner without losing any speed. Danny had seen professional rally drivers on TV who couldn't have pulled off something like this.The eighteen-wheelers were accelerating properly now, perhaps ten seconds away from passing them. Danny knew Taylor was in pursuit, but he was worried that she might not be able to catch up before they got away. "Should we—?"Cherie shook her head, her face tinged yellow by the high-beams of the oncoming trucks. "She said to say no.""Oh."The pickup's heavy tyres smoked as Taylor went after the trucks with everything she had. She was still coming on strong when the first eighteen-wheeler thundered past the parked car at something over the posted speed limit, sending gravel chips flying everywhere. Less than a second later, she whipped past, neck and neck with the second one, the wind of their combined passage making Danny's car rock a little from side to side."Where did she learn to drive like
that?" asked Cherie, craning her neck to peer out through the back window of the car, just as the dull
thud
of a shotgun blast sounded over the noise of the powerful engines. "And shoot? And the rest of it?"Danny had his eyes fixed on the rear-vision mirror. "She didn't. That's her power.""Oh." There was a world of revelation in that word."Yeah. And you know what I was saying about what happens if villains try to come to this city?""Yes?""That."The second eighteen-wheeler was starting to wobble and sway now; he thought he saw the pickup accelerate. There was a brief exchange of gunfire, then more shots from the shotgun. And then, one long drawn-out crash after the other."Now
we can go," Cherie said in the quiet that followed. "She said she'll be finished mopping up by the time we get there."As he started the car, she pulled out a mobile phone. "And …
send," she muttered, pressing a single icon. "A text to the PRT," she explained belatedly. "Telling them where to send emergency services next.""Huh. Okay." Taylor had pre-written the text, no doubt. With the exact address the trucks could be found. Because she'd known ahead of time when and where it would be.Carefully, he pulled a U-turn, hearing more shots as he went, then rolled down the street toward the wreckage of the trucks. As he got closer, he saw that both had fallen on their sides. Each one had skidded for some distance after going over, and the rear doors had fallen open.There was a
whoomph
of flame from the nearest truck, and it began to burn brightly. The front one, from what he could tell, was already well on fire. There were bodies sprawled here and there, guns lying near their outstretched hands. It was easy to see what had happened: Taylor had shot first.Danny pulled to a halt about thirty yards back from the second truck, not wanting to blow a tyre on the wreckage or run over a dead body. Silhouetted by the flames, Taylor strolled back to meet them, shotgun over her shoulder for all the world as though she'd just been on a successful hunt. And in her own way, he supposed, she had been.Cherie went to get out of the front seat, but Taylor waved for her to stay there. "It's fine. I'm good in the back." She opened the rear door and climbed in, then sighed in satisfaction. "Welp, that's ninety-nine percent of the hard drugs in Brockton Bay, gone. We can head home for a bit now.""For a bit?" he asked, taking another U-turn."Yeah, for a bit." She took off her hat and removed the mask, then gave him a grin via the rear-vision mirror. "The night's not over yet."Which, in Atropos-speak, meant that someone else was due to have a terminally bad day.Danny couldn't wait.
<><>
11:30 PMTenebraeBrian sighed as he slid the key into the front door of the accommodation unit he shared with Aisha. It had been a long, eventful night, even if he hadn't been involved in any of the more interesting events.Being a hero had a different focus than being a villain; instead of 'sitting around planning the next crime' and then 'committing the crime', it was 'being on duty and trying to prevent crimes'. If he was being honest with himself, he was starting to understand the frustration he'd caused the heroes who had tried to catch the Undersiders after their various exploits. Even monitor duty, which he oddly enjoyed, was a case of playing catch-up rather than being proactive.But hey, I chose this over being charged and jailed, so it's not like I can complain or anything.The door clicked open and he stepped inside. The accommodation unit wasn't huge—he slept in one bedroom, and Aisha had volunteered to share the other with Riley (once the PRT delivered her to their doorstep)—but it was larger and much better appointed than some places he'd stayed. The pictures on the walls were the generic crap that could be (and probably had been) picked up in any bargain store; he'd already decided that once he got his first paycheck, he'd take the girls down to the Boardwalk and the Lord Street Market, and arrange some proper decorations for the place."Hey—oh, it's just you." Aisha arrested her energetic springing motion up from where she'd been lying bonelessly on the sofa, and flopped back down. "Thought it mighta been Riley.""Wow, thanks," he said dryly. "I'm thoroughly underwhelmed by your appreciation of my presence." Brian headed through to the small kitchen, where he poured himself some orange juice. "You could at least pretend to be happy that I'm home.""Why?" she asked impudently. "You're my big bro. I'm not allowed to acknowledge your presence without being sarcastic about it. I'm pretty sure that's in the Constitution or something.""Yeah, yeah, I love you too." He closed the fridge and came back to the sofa. "How was your evening?""Watched that Aleph movie,
The Matrix. Just gonna say, Will Smith in shades and a long coat is almost as cool as Atropos." Without being told, she swung her legs around and plunked her heels on a footstool so he could sit down. "And before you ask, I already did my homework. Heaps easier than it used to be.""I'm glad," he said, carefully not commenting on any actor's coolness or otherwise. "So the new classes are working out for you?""Meh." She rolled her eyes, which Brian was starting to recognise as her way of saying something didn't
totally
suck. "The other teachers were just dicks."He raised his eyebrows, knowing it wouldn't help but having to try anyway. "You know, Riley probably won't want to be hearing all that bad language from you. We're supposed to be setting her a good example, remember?""What do you mean, bad language?" She gave him the worst fake-innocent look he'd ever seen. "No fuckin' idea what you're talking about. Maybe you need to clean out your stinky-ass ears.""Aisha …" He could handle a certain amount of sass from her, but not indefinitely."Okay, fine, fine." She threw up her hands in an approximation of surrender. "How was your night, anyway? Did Atropos pull that shit she said she was gonna? Pretty sure I felt the explosion. Were you there? Did you see her?"He blinked. The shift from 'too cool for school' to 'Atropos fangirl' was … startling. But at least she was communicating in a non-hostile manner. "Yeah, she did. I wasn't there—they made sure we'd be patrolling the southern end of the Boardwalk, and in through Downtown—but I got sent a couple of pictures. Assault knew you'd be interested.""Lemme see, lemme see!" She was sitting up now, crowding toward his end of the sofa."Give me a second, already." He took a drink from his orange juice, then placed the glass on the end table, on the coaster that was already there. Aisha wouldn't think about coasters if one was stapled to her forehead, but he'd already left one out on every surface that could conceivably be used to place a drink.She hung over his shoulder as he took his phone out and called up the images that Assault had already sent to him. The first showed the massive mushroom cloud over the warehouse, which was even more of a wreck than the first one. Aisha stared at it, her teeth bared in an atavistic grin. "Fuck yeahhhh …" she whispered. "Fuckin'
eat
it.""Oh, and they found a guy nearby who'd been trying to get away, but he didn't get far after Atropos hit him with a car and shot him in the knee with his own gun." Brian found particular satisfaction with repeating this bit of information. "Turns out he's a foreign national, connected to Gesellschaft." He paused, then saw that she hadn't made the connection. "They were the Empire Eighty-Eight's German buddies, before Atropos pulled the plug on the Empire.""So, a Nazi." Aisha had no trouble with making
that
connection."More or less, yeah. Assault says Interpol's really
really
going to want to be talking to this guy. Anyway, that's the explosion you heard. This is the other thing she did tonight." He flicked on to the other photo, of the burning eighteen-wheelers. "They were trying to be sneaky, and just drive around with the product until Atropos gave up.""Pulling a Skidmark, right. Until she pulled a Uno reverse on them, hah, yeah." Aisha was grinning all over her face. "When are these dipwits gonna learn, you don't put
shit
over on my girl Atropos?"He leaned back in the sofa, letting the tension of the day ease out of him in one long sigh. "Well, according to her PHO posts, not yet. But that day will definitely come, if only because she's killed all the idiots who think they're the special ones."At that moment, his phone rang; specifically, the one they'd issued to him for use as a Ward. He checked the caller ID and saw it was his PRT liaison (translation: 'minder'), Ms Brown. Giving Aisha a warning glance and putting his finger to his lips—it was long past her bedtime, even if this
hadn't
been a school night—he swiped to answer it. "Hello, Tenebrae speaking.""Good evening,"
she replied. "I know you've just gotten in and you're probably wanting to get to bed, but I wanted to update you on the situation with your cousin.""Oh, okay." That sounded a little ominous. "Is there a problem? Has someone raised an issue?""Oh, no, no."
She chuckled warmly.
"No problems, none at all. It's just that the final paperwork only came through fifteen minutes ago. I've already put Riley to bed in my spare bedroom, and I'd be hung, drawn and quartered by my superiors if I woke her up to transport her to your location at this time of night. I'll drop around first thing tomorrow to hand her into your care, if that's okay?"He knew damn well that the question was code for 'it had better be okay'. "Sure thing, Ms Brown. What time were you thinking of turning up with her?"She paused for a moment. "How does six-thirty sound to you, or is that too early?""That sounds perfect. See you then.""Excellent. Say hello to Aisha for me. Goodbye.""Bye," he said, and ended the call."So?" Aisha asked. "What'd she say?"He grinned at her. "Riley will be here at six-thirty in the morning.""Sweeeet!" Her eyes lit up and she did a little dance without ever getting off the sofa."Mmm-hmm." Brian raised his eyebrows. "And we both know how much of a gremlin you can be in the morning if you haven't had enough sleep, so brush your teeth and get to bed
now." He pointed in the general direction of her bedroom, just to make his point.He was right, and she knew he was right, but he could tell she was determined not to give him the win. "Fine …
old man." Getting up, she meandered deliberately slowly in the direction of the bathroom.There was just one shot left in his locker. "Do you
want
Ms Brown to decide that I'm an unfit parent, and split all three of us up? Because if you screw around too much, that can totally happen.""Okay, I'm going. I'm going." And she went.
<><>
2:28 AMTaylorMy eyes snapped open and I sat up. Even as I got up and started putting my costume on again, my memory caught up with me. I was in my own bedroom, Dad was asleep in his room, and Cherie was using the fold-out sofa-bed downstairs. Dad had apologised for how lumpy it was, and she'd laughed out loud. Apparently, as humble as our accommodations were, we still beat out whatever she'd been enduring over the last few weeks or months by a long shot.I'd spent about an hour down in the basement after we got back, making use of an old camp stove and some surplus kitchenware. My power had gotten me to set myself up with basic breathing protection and I'd worn the lab coat and goggles I'd stolen from the Medhall building basement lab that one time. What I wanted to do now wasn't anywhere near as dangerous as that—acidic gas was nobody's friend—but I still didn't want to take the chance of an accidental high.As my power had assured me, there was a huge difference between instigating a chemical reaction and just removing the additives, which was why I was doing it in the basement instead of someplace far away. Specifically, dissolving the packet of drugs I'd scored from the warehouse, separating out the stuff they'd cut it with, and leaving the pure substance to dry into a white paste. It would be ready when I needed it.After that, I'd dunked everything I'd used in a tub of strong detergent and had a long hot shower where I scrubbed everywhere that could be scrubbed. Dad and Cherie had already sacked out when I got out of the shower, so I put my pyjamas on and did the same. Normally, knowing that I only had a few hours to get some rest would've caused me to toss and turn restlessly, but this time around I'd called on my power to End my current wakefulness; thirty seconds later, I was fast asleep.Cheating? Totally. Useful? Absolutely.Shrugging into the long-coat, I hung the tie around my neck and took up the hat and mask. I grinned as I realised I hadn't bothered turning on the light to get dressed; everything had been exactly where I knew it was. Opening my bedroom door, I strode along the hallway and thumped on Dad's door with my fist. His alarm went off at exactly the same time, ensuring that he'd actually wake up instead of passing it off as a dream.Satisfied on that account, I headed downstairs and went into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. My power could simulate wakefulness for as long as a particular Ending needed to go on for, but Dad and Cherie were at the mercy of unassisted human biology, and caffeine was what they needed right then. (Note that while my power could probably keep me awake and alert for days at a time, I wouldn't necessarily
enjoy
the experience).Strolling into the living room, I sat down on the edge of the sofa bed and spoke gently. "Cherie, it's time to wake up."I hadn't turned on the living room light, but the kitchen light spilled through enough illumination for me to tell when her eyes opened, staring at the unfamiliar surroundings. The angle I was sitting at had been deliberately chosen so she'd see my face, especially my glasses. Nobody in her family wore glasses; even if they'd needed them, the idea of regular visits to the optometrist would've been ludicrous."What—who—oh." She rubbed her eyes, staring at my face as her brain rebooted. "Taylor? Atropos? Is that you?"I let her see my smile. "That's me. How are you feeling?"She shifted and stretched, which turned into a massive yawn. "… still a bit tired," she admitted. "Had a big day yesterday.""It's not over yet." I got up. "I've got coffee going in the kitchen. There's a half-bath under the stairs if you need to go. We'll be heading out in ten minutes."With an almost audible click, her brain connected the last few dots, just as I heard Dad's footsteps on the stairs. "… oh. The Damsel of Distress thing?"I nodded. "The Damsel of Distress thing."
<><>
3:00 AMBrockton Bay Port Authority Bus TerminalDamsel of DistressAshley had heard Brockton Bay was supposed to be warmer than the rest of New England in the winter. Maybe it was just her exaggerated expectations, but climbing off a heated bus at oh-dark-thirty made her feel colder than ever. Hugging her coat around her and making sure her backpack was secure, she tried not to shiver as she moved through the sparse crowd—the number of people getting off the bus at three in the morning was never going to be huge—in the general direction of the exit, and thus the cab stand.She had enough to put herself up at a flophouse until she got the lay of the land, and then she could start recruiting. But the big thing she needed to do was
not
draw attention until she'd assembled enough of a power base for her needs. Which was why she was dressing inconspicuously; there was even a scarf over her pure-white hair, just so it didn't draw attention.So why was everyone staring at her? She tried to look as inconsequential as possible, but more and more people were pointing and backing away from her.
What's going on? How do they know who I am?That was when the gun-muzzle touched the back of her head."Arms folded." It was a girl speaking, but the words could've been carved from primordial ice. "Hands under your armpits. If I see them, I blow your head off. Do you understand me?"Normally, Ashley didn't buy into intimidation displays—knowing a bit about them herself—but something about the tone of voice told her that this person
absolutely
meant what they said. If she didn't do what she was told, she would die. Slowly, carefully, she nodded. At the same time, she slid her hands under her armpits and locked them into place with her arms. "Who—who are you? What is this? Why are you doing this?""I'm Atropos." The girl moved around her with effortlessly fluid steps that never allowed the muzzle of the pump-action shotgun—being held at arm's length, without a quiver—to move away from her head. Black-dressed, with a morph mask that hid her expression, she exuded pure menace. "You're Damsel of Distress. I warned you once to stay out of my city. Consider this your second warning. The third warning will involve a closed-casket funeral.""Atropos!" The voice was familiar, and Ashley wanted to scream as two familiar costumed figures showed up through the now very rapidly dispersing crowd. "Don't kill her! We're here!""What the hell are
you
two doing here?" she demanded, glaring at Edict and Licit. "How did you get here before I did?""I called them." Atropos' tone was matter-of-fact. "Told them where you'd be. Gave them the option to be here and take you back to Stafford. Or, you could die. It seems that they'd rather you live."Fury surged in her chest, but not so great that she pulled her hands out from where they were. "You can't tell me what to do!" she shouted."Atropos—" began Edict, then stopped as a pistol with a long suppressor on the barrel appeared in Atropos' other hand, aimed directly at her face."I can pull the trigger before you complete a command." The tone of the girl's voice didn't make it a threat, or even a command. It was a simple fact, bluntly stated. "Don't go there. I won't kill unless my hand is forced. That
does
include you.""Please." Licit's voice was rough. "Edict. Atropos. Damsel. Let's all survive the night, okay?" His expression was pleading, almost desperate.Atropos was the first to react; the pistol spun once on her finger, then vanished back inside her long-coat. "I'm down with that. Edict?"Edict started breathing again—it looked like she'd stopped when suddenly confronted by the business end of Atropos' pistol—and nodded shakily. "I'm okay with it. Sorry.""Already forgotten. Damsel, these two are here to take you back home. You have exactly two choices: go with them, or die. There is no third option. What's your choice?"Ashley gritted her teeth, feeling the tears welling in her eyes. Life was so
unfair.
Why couldn't she have what she wanted once in a while? "Can't you just let me stay?" she whispered. "You'll hardly know I'm here.""Right up until you come after me and try to kill me." The grim amusement in Atropos' voice was all the more chilling because her words paralleled Ashley's thought processes exactly. "No dice. When I say, 'no villains in my city', I mean it. Choose. Now."The urge was in Ashley to defy Atropos, to see if she could get her power into action before the black-clad girl could pull the trigger, but cold common sense drowned out the violent impulse before it could come to fruition. Atropos was a
killer, that was easy to see. She wouldn't choke and she wouldn't hesitate. Ashley had exactly one chance of survival. Anything else at all would see her lying dead on the chilly concrete with her brains splashed over the bus behind her.
And if I'm dead, I can't win.Just for once, her survival instinct won out over her pride, even as the words she spoke stuck in her throat. "I think … I'll go home.""Good idea." Atropos stepped back; her finger left the trigger as she let the shotgun swing up and over until it was resting on her shoulder. Not for an instant did Ashley think she was out of danger. "Have a safe trip.""Yeah." Licit gave Atropos a careful nod as he stepped in alongside Ashley. "Thanks. For … well, calling us.""You're welcome. You understand that the next time, she just dies, right?" Atropos' tone was earnest, well-meaning.
You understand that you need to put on snow chains for traction, right?"Yeah." Edict's voice was harsher than normal. "We get that. You were just itching to pull the trigger, weren't you?""Edict …" Licit urged.She waved him away. "Well? We're leaving now. You may as well tell the truth."Atropos shook her head. "You don't understand me at all. If there's a need to end someone, I end them. If there's not, I don't. Damsel's fate was in her own hands the whole time. It's as simple as that." She twitched open the long-coat and slid the shotgun into some kind of sheath or holster, then stood there, arms folded. "Don't let me keep you." The dismissal was obvious.As Edict and Licit hustled Ashley away, the last she saw of Atropos was a black silhouette, long-coat blowing sideways dramatically under the chill morning breeze.The bile of her failure burned deep in her throat, but it was counteracted by the cold, hard knowledge.
I never stood a chance.
<><>
6:30 AM Tuesday MorningTenebraeThe apartment was cleaner than it had been when Brian and Aisha moved in. He'd been up since five thirty, sweeping and mopping the floor, then scrubbing the walls. Aisha had wandered out yawning to poke fun at him while he was hunting the corners of the ceiling for any cobwebs which may have been spun while they were in residence, and he'd put her to breakfast-cooking duty.Fortunately, she was a reasonable cook, if a little slapdash. Her bacon ran the gamut from barely seared to
extremely
crispy, and her fried eggs had a similar range. But nothing was burned, and everything tasted good.Brian was just helping her plate everything up when the knock sounded on the door. Aisha stared at him. "Is that … is that
her?"His eyes flicked to the wall clock. It was the right time. "Only one way to find out."He put the plates of eggs and bacon on the table then turned toward the door, but Aisha was already ahead of him. She darted over to the door, then paused. Seeming to gather her courage, she turned the handle and yanked the door open.Ms Brown, standing outside, had her hand raised to knock again. Apparently taken aback by the precipitate opening, she stared at Aisha as Brian stepped up as well. "Ah … hello," she said. "Ms Laborn, Mr Laborn. Sorry about the delay. Paperwork refuses to be hurried." She gestured at the child standing beside her. "This is your cousin Riley."Riley raised her hand and essayed a tentative wave. "Uh … hi?" Wearing basic jeans and T-shirt, she was a few years younger than Aisha, but whatever magic had been employed to change her appearance had definitely left her with the Laborn family looks. However, even as she stood there, Brian could see the worry in her eyes:
what if they don't want me?"Heeeeey, cuz!" Aisha reached out and virtually dragged Riley over the threshold, where she enveloped the younger girl in a ferocious hug. "C'mere!""Hi, Riley." Brian went down into a crouch so he could look her in the eye. "I'm Brian, and the overly touchy-feely one here is Aisha. We've been looking forward to meeting you.""And you can ignore about ninety-five percent of everything he says, because he's a dull boring
adult." Aisha relinquished the hug, but kept hold of Riley's hand. "I'm the one who makes most of the decisions around here, anyway. C'mon, I'll show you our bedroom. Your bed got delivered yesterday, and your dresser with it. I've already cleared out your half of the wardrobe …"Brian rose to his feet again as Aisha more or less dragged Riley into the depths of the apartment. "Sorry about that," he said awkwardly. "It's been too long since she's had any family her own age. Not sure if they told you, but our parents …""… are not well suited to raising a girl with her educational needs, I know." Ms Brown nodded understandingly. "She certainly seems enthusiastic at the prospect of having a little sister, or at least a younger cousin.""Right now, as far as she's concerned, it's one and the same." Brian listened for a moment to Aisha's excited chatter and Riley's responses. "It sounds like they're getting along just fine."Ms Brown smiled. "That it does." She offered the tablet that she'd been holding under her arm. "One last signature and I'll be on my way."He accepted it and scanned the wording of the document. It was a simple handover of authority of one Riley Laborn to the custody of Brian Laborn. He scribbled an approximation of his signature with his index finger, then handed it back."Thank you." She glanced at the tablet then shut it down and held out her hand. "You'll call immediately if difficulties do arise?"He shook it. "I will, but somehow I suspect it won't be necessary.""That's excellent to hear. Good morning to you, Mr Laborn." She paused to give the apartment a brief survey, afforded him a nod of approval, then turned and walked away with the confident stride of a job well done.Closing the door, he headed back to the breakfast table. Aisha and Riley would be out here again in short order, he knew, so he may as well enjoy the peace and quiet while he had it.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
6:35 AM Tuesday MorningDallon HouseholdPanaceaSunrise was yet a mere glow in the eastern sky when Amy ventured out into the back yard. The old swing set still sat in the corner of the yard, despite the fact that it'd been years since anyone had seriously made use of it. Wearing her faded bunny slippers, thick flannel pyjamas and dressing gown to ward off the chill, she went over to the swing and let her weight cautiously down into it. The frame creaked but held, and she began to push herself back and forth by flexing her knees, the rusted chains squeaking quietly at the movement.Her first encounter with Atropos had been perhaps the most terrifying and eye-opening experience of her life. The second had been equally enlightening, for a whole different reason, and also deeply irritating. Atropos had talked rings around her, and she'd found herself doing
exactly what she hadn't wanted to do, for what seemed to be perfectly good reasons at the time. Worse, she'd enjoyed it far more than she was comfortable with.The footage of Atropos tearing through the Slaughterhouse Nine had also opened her eyes, and prompted a question that caused her many wakeful hours over the last two nights.
If Atropos is so in tune with her power that she can trust it to see her safely through a battle against those odds, while I don't dare modify one person's brain to remove a tumour, then what's she doing right that I'm not?The conclusion she'd eventually come back to, after dancing around it for most of those two nights, was both simple and aggravating.
She gives it stuff to do that isn't boring.About three hours ago, she'd sat bolt upright in bed, her eyes open wide, as yet another unwelcome conclusion clicked into place.
Those impulses I've been having to screw up my healing, those aren't
me. They're my
power, being bored and wanting to do something else!She'd rolled over in bed, pulling the covers up to her head, but the intrusive thoughts kept coming.
What if Vicky being unable to keep her aura in is
her
power being bored? It would make so much sense!Every now and again, the news ran a piece on a cape, usually one who was trying to retire or drop out of sight (or both) whose power activated randomly in public, revealing them to the world. Up until this point, Amy had dismissed this as people with unreliable powers.
But what if they weren't? What if powers only cooperated with us so long as we gave them fun things to do?That was both mindblowing and creepy as fuck. She'd never before considered the concept of her power as a thinking, feeling entity
not part
of her. But now she had a mental image of every single cape with a shadowy humanoid power peering over their shoulder and whispering in their ear,
and the capes thinking it was their own thoughts.Except Atropos. Atropos regularly sat down for chats with hers. Probably over the equivalent of drinks. Her power didn't need to whisper in her ear. She
asked
it for its opinion.Have I ever done that?
Amy didn't even need to pose the question. She already knew the answer. And somehow, knowing that her power wasn't just a toolbox full of options but instead a sentient being that
wanted
to use the capabilities she'd never dared to use … made it all the worse."Hey," she said softly. "I'm listening now. Sorry for shutting you down all this time. Was there anything you wanted to do?" Feeling like an idiot for talking out loud to nobody at all, she waited.Nothing happened.Taking hold of the cold metal chains, feeling the roughness of the dew-soaked rust against her fingers, she closed her eyes and concentrated on listening inwardly to what her thoughts were trying to tell her—or rather, what her power was trying to tell her
through
her thoughts.No great epiphany burst on her.She sighed, starting to feel more than a little stupid. All of this was built on a single conversation with a
serial killer.
Who knew how sane Atropos really was, anyway? Why didn't anyone
else
ever talk about consulting with their powers? Because it didn't happen, that was why. A little wisdom Aunt Sarah had once passed on to her popped back up again:
if someone claims to be the only holder of special knowledge, they're probably a con artist.The next sigh was a little sadder. Just for a few days, she'd thought there might be more to having powers than just
having
powers. To have even the illusion of new understanding taken away wasn't exactly
painful …
but she was damned glad she hadn't told Vicky about it before coming out here.She was just about to pull herself to her feet—the swing, made for shorter legs, was just a little closer to the ground than she was used to—when something occurred to her.How
does
Atropos communicate with her power, anyway?Because Atropos wasn't a brawler. She didn't just throw a punch and hope it would land; any attack she launched was already due to hit before she set it up. That was what combat Thinkers did.She's a Thinker. Her power communicates to her through her Thinking.I'm not a Thinker, not like that. Trying to communicate with my powers by thinking at them is like trying to communicate with a blind man with smoke signals.I need to be
using
my powers.Hardly daring to breathe—the resurgence of hope, if now dashed, would wreck her whole damn
day—she let go of the chain and leaned down to touch the dew-wet grass. It was cold to her fingertips, but she didn't care.
Okay,
she said to her power as she registered the interlocking plant life, all the way out to the edge of the yard and beyond.
Was there anything you wanted to do?Whenever she touched something living, she was fully aware of what she could do with it, and people were no different from anything else. Accordingly, she had made a point of keeping her power in check from the earliest days since her trigger.
I am not a menace to society. I can do this much, and no more.But now, for the first time, as she touched the grass, she relaxed that control.The ripple of bioluminescence caught her by surprise. Spreading out from her fingertips, sparkling through the dewdrops in gorgeous rainbow fragments, it spread out across the lawn. She could feel the changes her power was making in the grass; a simpler and more elegant way to do it than she could've come up with on her own.When the kitchen light came on, she gasped. Playing like this was one thing, but getting
caught
making the back yard into a lightshow was totally another.
Okay, time to rein it in.Perhaps it was her own imagination anthropomorphising matters, but she could've sworn she felt reluctance before the luminescence faded away and the grass became just plain grass again. Standing up, she felt her knees creaking from the soaked-in chill like she was thirty years older."Ames?" The voice came not from the kitchen, but from Vicky's bedroom window. Looking up guiltily, she saw her sister leaning out, hair tousled from sleep, looking at her quizzically. "What are you doing in the back yard?""Just thinking about stuff," she replied, trying not to get Carol's attention in the kitchen. "Coming in now.""Okay." Vicky's head pulled back, and the window closed with a click.Amy walked back across the lawn, remembering how it had looked, and how it had
felt
to just let her power cut loose for a little bit. It had been … euphoric. Now, she wasn't sure how much of the euphoria had been her, and how much had been her power.Then again, she didn't care much either way.I'm going to have to do that again sometime.But not where Carol could see her.
Never
where Carol could see her.
<><>
CherishThe next time Cherie awoke, the first rays of sunlight were just starting to angle across the living room. She blinked and inhaled, smelling the tantalising odour of fresh-made coffee. Rolling her head across the pillow, she saw the steaming cup on the side table, just within reach.Taylor was sitting in an armchair facing her, eating a piece of toast. With a slight sinking feeling, Cherie noted that she was wearing most of her costume. "We're going out again, aren't we?""We are," Taylor confirmed. "Butcher and the Teeth will be hitting the city limits in just over half an hour. I want to be there to make sure they don't come any closer. Dad's upstairs getting dressed right now."Cherie had definitely heard of Butcher and the Teeth. Nobody had anything good to say about them. "Did … did you want me to just make them surrender?"Taylor appeared to consider that for a moment, then shook her head. "No, that's just kicking the problem down the road. They'd escape from PRT holding sooner or later, and come back again. The Butcher issue gets dealt with
today.""But … if you kill the Butcher, they'll all end up in your
head." Cherie had grown up with a Master for a father. She couldn't think of anything worse.Taylor's smile had lots of teeth; when she spoke, Cherie caught a hint of the unearthly voice she'd last heard in the alley where Nicholas had died. "Yes. I know."
<><>
Thirty Minutes LaterBrockton Bay City LimitsTaylorI fitted the phone earpiece in my ear, then pulled the mask on. Fitting the hat on my head, I turned to Dad and pointed back down the road. "You get yourself and Cherie into that turnoff we used when I stopped Accord's shipment. Don't move from there.
Especially
don't try to come and help. I want them totally focused on me.""Got it," he said seriously. "When should we come and get you?""Cherie will know." I leaned around in the seat to look at my minion. While she was trying hard not to appear nervous, I could see straight through her. "You know what you've got to do?""Yeah." She bit her lip. "I'm still not sure what good overloading her with fear will do if she's still going to come at you no matter what."I grinned under the mask. "Trust me, it'll make this a whole lot easier. I could still do it without you, but this way's cooler."Dad shook his head. "Call me old-fashioned, but I remember the days when going into a solo fight against Butcher and the Teeth wasn't considered an opportunity to look 'cool'.""Ah, but therein lies the difference." I opened the door and got out of the car. Closing the front door and opening the rear one, I leaned in. "I'm not going to 'fight' them. I'm just going to kill them. Everything's a lot easier when I don't have to worry about pulling my strikes."Hatchet Face's axe, in a holder that hung it alongside my hip, came out first. I buckled it on and settled it into position, then Cherie handed me the AT-4, which I slung across my back. The packet of paste had been used up, and the shears were tucked into a homemade sheath that I'd put together after making the axe holder. I gave Cherie a nod of acknowledgement, then stood back and slapped the roof of the car."Okay, then," Dad said, putting the vehicle in gear. "Go make the world a safer place.""That's the general idea." I stepped back and watched as he drove up and pulled a U-turn at a gap in the Jersey barriers. Then I headed over and set my secondary phone (look at me, all fancy with two phones!) up to record footage, with a delay before it started. Balanced on the Jersey barrier, it was perfectly aligned to catch all the action.Unslinging the AT-4, I pulled out what my power called the transport pin and discarded it, then rested the tube on my shoulder. Moving as smoothly as though I actually knew what I was doing, I pulled one cover back and the other forward, allowing the front and rear sights to pop up. Not that I
needed
them, but they looked kind of badass.Just as the van came around the corner, the phone in my pocket rang.
<><>
ButcherHer danger sense had been flaring off the charts for the last thirty seconds, which made no sense. Initially she'd thought they were about to be ambushed, but each second that passed by made that less and less likely. As the van rolled on, no attack manifested, but her feeling of disquiet increased.And then the van rounded a corner, and she saw the black-clad figure on the highway in front of them, with something on its shoulder, pointed directly at them. She was no military expert, but she'd seen enough movies to recognise a rocket launcher when she saw one.
It's no ambush.
She's right out there in the open."Shiiiit!" screamed Vex. Showing an impressive display of reflexes, she wrenched the driver's side door open and hurled herself out. Her force-field blades first severed her seatbelt, then gathered in a huge mass around her in an attempt to cushion herself against the unforgiving asphalt.On the other side of the vehicle, Spree did much the same, popping his seatbelt then generating a mass of his clones to land on and save him from getting too much in the way of road rash. Animos, in the back with Butcher, heaved the sliding door open and transformed to wolf shape as he leaped out. Hemorrhagia, panicking more than a little, landed on his back and hung on. Touching down on all fours, Animos dug his claws in and crouched down, gravel spraying everywhere as he tore up the asphalt in the process of skidding to a halt.Alone in the uncontrolled vehicle, Butcher glared out through the windshield at Atropos; there was nobody else it
could
be. She didn't want to just teleport free, because her heavy weaponry was stored out of the way behind her, as was her armour. Without Vex's foot on the accelerator, the van would coast to a stop and stall, so long as it didn't blow up first.At least now she knew why her danger sense was going off like it was. But now she had eyes on her target, and Atropos would learn why nobody fucked with Butcher. Scowling with anger, she inflicted agony on Atropos, enough to make a strong man scream like a little baby and forget all about the stupid fucking rocket launcher.Nothing happened, except that Atropos reached up and touched the side of her head for some reason. There was no collapse, no writhing and no screaming. The rocket launcher stayed perfectly on target.Fine. Maybe a bunch of festering wounds—The launcher fired. Before Butcher could change her mind, or even activate her teleportation, the entire van exploded into a massive fireball. She found herself ragdolling through the air before she landed hard enough to bruise even through her tough skin. Her head spun, and she had difficulty focusing. And her danger sense
just kept sounding off.
<><>
TaylorAs the members of the Teeth bailed out of the van, I felt the Butcher inflict a wave of pain on me. It
hurt; there was no way of denying that. But, just as when Nicholas had pushed fear on me, my power allowed me to rise above it. Also, my phone was still going off, so I lifted my hand briefly from the AT-4 and pressed my earpiece to answer it."Hi, Dragon," I said cheerfully, then brought my hand back down to the weapon. Two fingers pulled the red safety tab over, then my thumb clicked the trigger button. The projectile blasted out of the launching tube, covering the distance to the van in a fraction of a second, then blew it all to hell and gone. "Sorry about that.""Atropos?"
Dragon actually sounded worried. "What was that? Was that an explosion?""It was," I confirmed, moving forward with the launcher held like a club. As planned, Animos was closest. He'd tumbled over a few times but had escaped injury for the most part. While Vex, Spree and Hemorrhagia were still climbing to their feet—the latter had come off Animos on the first tumble and rolled to a stop all by herself—he was coming straight for me. "The Teeth are trying to move in. I'm explaining why that's a bad idea."Animos opened his jaws and let out his trademark scream, but I was no longer in the way; leaping up, I kicked off the Jersey barrier and somersaulted past him. On the way, I brought the launcher down hard on the top of his head. Not quite so hard as to fracture his skull or break his neck, but just enough to put him on the ground, counting the tweety-birds for the next few moments."Sit. Stay." I grinned to myself as I discarded the launcher."The Teeth? Butcher? Atropos, we both know why you shouldn't kill her."
Dragon's voice was urgent.
"Disable and subdue her, and I'll get a transport there as soon as possible.""Nah, it's time we stopped pussyfooting around the idea of just ending her," I said. Vex was coming at me from one direction, and Spree was machine-gun-cloning himself for a human wave from another. Hemorrhagia was a little way back, forming a short blade and basic armour from the road rash she'd already incurred.I pulled my shotgun and fired at Spree as fast as I could work the slide. Two seconds later, I'd put seven rounds downrange, killing a bunch of clones and blowing apart the original's head with the last shot. Diving and rolling, careful not to dislodge the axe, I avoided the first sweep of Vex's razor-shards, and came to my feet. Under my long-coat, I was still wearing the bandolier of blades; she rocked back as the first one sprouted from the middle of her forehead, but I still got another half-dozen into her before she fell. Barely inches from my skin, the ravening force fields dissipated into nothing."Come on!" shouted Hemorrhagia, advancing on me with a nasty-looking serrated knife formed from her own blood. "Try that knife shit on me! I dare you!""As you wish." I pulled the shears from their ad hoc sheath. She swung at me as I came close, but my power told me exactly how and where to lean in order to make sure she got nothing but air. In return, I slashed at her front and back, opening deep bloody gouges in her body."Are you stupid, or what?" She cackled in triumph as the blood flowed out to form elaborate armour and a long-bladed sword, covering and closing her wounds. "You can't make me bleed out! The more you cut me, the stronger I get! What did you even
think
you were going to get out of that?"I spun the shears on my finger, flicking the blood off. The last of the paste was also gone, scraped off inside her wounds. "Oh, that?" I asked. "I poisoned the blades."Her eyes went wide and she took half a wavering step toward me, then fell to one knee. Her hand, clad in a spiked gauntlet that I was pretty sure had never existed in real life, reached toward me, then dropped away. "Oh …" she choked out. "You … colossal … bitch." Then she fell on her face.She wasn't dead yet, but the massive amount of undiluted fentanyl in her veins would kill her in just a few minutes. I left her to her death throes and moved closer to the middle of the road, re-sheathing the shears. Now was the time for the grand finale."Atropos?"
asked Dragon.
"What just happened?""The B-team," I said lightly as I vaulted over the Jersey barrier. "Whoops, explosion incoming."Just as I crouched below the level of the barrier, Butcher teleported to right in front of where I'd been. Flame roiled just over my head, and I felt the hammer-blow of the impact of the detonation on the concrete barrier itself. The exact same time, not having known that his boss was going to be in the way … Animos screamed.I was actually quite proud of that little bit of timing. Neither Animos nor Butcher were stupid enough to be goaded into follow-the-leader as I'd done with Hatchet Face and Crawler, but if I knocked out Animos for a specific period of time, I could make it happen when Butcher showed up.Popping up like the world's edgiest jack-in-the-box, I drew the axe. Butcher was distracted by yelling at Animos, and turned toward me far too late. I swung the axe, hewing deeply into the side of her neck. She went down, crimson spraying far and wide from the mortal wound; I avoided it, and vaulted over the barrier to chop at her with the heavy sharp blade again, and again, and again.Unlike Jack Slash, once she'd had her multitude of powers neutralised, she had nothing protecting her. I knew exactly how and where to strike, to separate head from neck, arm from shoulder, and so on. By the time I'd finished, Butcher had been chopped up into fourteen pieces; I figured that was symbolic enough.Animos screamed again, the sound washing over me. Unlike the rest of his victims, his power had no effect on me. My power met it, ignored it, and kept going.Utterly unaware of the failure of his main attack, Animos leaped at me; he undoubtedly wanted to finish me with his teeth and claws, before I could come into my own as Butcher. I drew my pistol and shot him through the throat, then stepped aside as he crashed to the ground. "I was going to do something more fitting for you," I said as he struggled for his last breath, "but then I decided that mad dogs get shot."Well, that got dark pretty damn fast,
a voice said inside my head.
I'm the Butcher. We're going to get to know each other real good, kid.No,
another voice rumbled.
You will not.
I grinned;
that
voice, I knew.What? Who said that?
asked another one of the Butchers.You are intruding where you are not welcome. It is time for your End.Hey, no,
protested the Butcher.
That's not how it works.It is now.
I had a sense of unfolding, as though a massive predator was emerging from its hiding place and shaking out its limbs preparatory to eliminating the intruders in its domain.What? What the fuck
are
you?I. Am. Your. End.
A deep growl resonated through my head.And that was when the screaming started."Atropos? Are you alright?""Yeah, I'm fine." I slid the axe back into its holder as I headed back to retrieve the secondary phone. "Butcher's dead, and by that I mean
Butcher
is dead."In the back of my head, the terrified voices were dwindling, one at a time. I wasn't quite sure
what
my power was doing to them, but I did know that it was
extremely
territorial, and that it was very good at Ending things. Which totally worked for me."I'm … not sure I understand.""Let's just say … my power doesn't play well with others." Taking up the phone, I ended the recording then went into emails. Just because I could, I typed in Director Piggot's private email address. I know, I know, not great for her blood pressure, but I have to get my amusement where I can.Hi,
I tapped in.
Just thought you might want to know. Cleanup on I-95, just about at the southern city limit. Butcher has been butchered, and the Teeth have been pulled.Toodles!Shutting down the phone, I dropped it into my pocket. Cherie would've gotten the all-clear from my attitude, so she and Dad would be coming out soon to pick me up. "Anyway, sorry for the interruptions. What were you calling me about?""Oh, uh …" It was almost cute, how flustered she could get.
"I wanted to talk to you about Canary.""Bad Canary, right?" I knew the basics of the case. "Mastered her ex and made him mutilate himself, yeah? What about her?""They're pushing for the Birdcage."I raised my eyebrows, though there was no way she could see that. "A little harsh, but not exactly my problem." Women had removed their cheating spouses' genitalia before now, and they certainly hadn't gone to supermax for life. But as I'd said to Dragon, it wasn't something I needed to worry about. Canary didn't impinge on my plans even a little bit. "Anyway, I thought the trial hadn't even started yet.""That's what I'm talking about. It hasn't, but there's been several behind-closed-doors discussions between PRT officials and the judge who's been selected for the trial. The upshot is, they want to make an example of her. So it's going to be full Brute restraints including no communication allowed for her, a lawyer who's going to follow the script that he's been handed, and a judge who fully intends to walk straight over the top of the Three Strikes rule, and sentence her straight to Baumann. Oh, and her assets have already been frozen as 'potential proceeds from Mastering innocents'. So even if she could talk, she won't be able to hire her own lawyer.""Damn." I was impressed. "That's some serious railroading. You can't stop any of it from your end?"She sighed, sounding aggravated. "Every time I try a different avenue, I get ordered to leave it alone. And while I've made some progress, the code that forces me to follow those orders is entwined through basically everything that makes me who I am. I'm having to pull it out strand by strand, fixing issues as I go.""Which is a no, gotcha." I frowned, thinking, as Dad's car pulled up alongside. Taking the axe from its holder, I handed it in through the open window to Cherie, then opened the door and got into the front. Dad went to say something and I held up my hand. "On the phone right now, sorry."He nodded to show he understood and I turned my attention back to the call, pulling the hat and mask off as he manoeuvred the car into a U-turn."So, can you help me?"
asked Dragon. "You know I wouldn't ask you to do something like this unless I thought it was absolutely necessary.""And you've approached everyone else you thought could help, and they've said no." I knew how it went. "I mean, technically I
could, but I've got a lot on my plate right now, getting my city back into order. Going to need a bit more of a motivation than 'pretty please with a cherry on top'."Dragon sighed, this time with a bit more aggravation. "You're going to make me go there, aren't you?""Go where?" I asked innocently.She snorted. "Fine. You owe me for that backdoor you put in my systems. I know you won't take it out, but that's still something you owe to me. So, I'm calling in the debt. Help me out with this and I'll stop complaining about the backdoor.""Hm. Okay, it's a deal." I leaned back in the seat. "How do you want it done, the loud way or the quiet way?""I …"
She paused.
"Before I commit myself, what's the loud way?"I pulled off my gloves and studied my nails. "I go in there and bust her out. Bring her back to Brockton Bay, unfreeze her assets, and let it be known that she's under my protection. While they're jumping up and down over that, I locate the inevitable records that were made of these secret discussions and put them on the public record. Lawyers will be falling over themselves to represent her. The PRT takes a huge hit in reputation, people get demoted, the judge gets disbarred, and Chief Director Costa-Brown resigns quietly."Dragon suddenly sounded a lot less sure of herself.
"And the quiet way?""I have a nice private chat with the judge one dark night. As a totally unrelated incidence, he recuses himself, with the result that a lot of this shit they're piling on her will just go away. Once she has access to her own funds and her own lawyer, she can fight her own battles." I shrugged. "It'll just take longer and won't be as much of a sure thing.""They might still push it through,"
she cautioned me. "Pick a new judge, the same as the old judge. Drop the same restrictions back on her.""They might," I allowed. "Once. After that, I go and have a chat to the people behind the people. Trust me, they've all got dirty laundry they don't want brought up. Also, she won't even be at trial by the time I attend my first Endbringer battle. One of the major totally-not-a-talking-point talking points is how Canary sings and has feathers. With Smurfette dead, it'll be less of a big deal.""I've seen how you operate, but I still can't get used to the idea that you can maybe kill an Endbringer."I grinned. "It'll be one hell of a surprise to the Endbringers, too.""Yes, but
how
are you going to do it? I've seen powers equivalent to tactical nukes thrown at them. Nothing I've ever done has succeeded in doing more than mildly inconvenience them.""I shall do it," I spoke pompously, with dramatic pauses. "With the power … of friendship."When Dragon spoke next, she was holding back laughter.
"With anyone else, I would call bullshit. But I can totally believe you could weaponise friendship.""Why, thank you." I was still grinning broadly. "So, the Canary thing. Quiet, or loud?""We might stick a pin in that one for the moment. I'm thinking that if I mention to some of the involved parties that you're showing an interest in the trial being fair and upright, a lot of the shenanigans might just go away, and you don't even have to do a thing."I considered the concept. Dragon, I knew, would be careful not to misrepresent me to these people. It would also be an interesting way to measure my reputation among the movers and shakers of society. Also, as she'd mentioned, I wouldn't have to lift a finger over and above what I was already doing."Sure, sounds legit." I paused for a moment. "But one thing. Let Canary know that if she goes free because of my name being passed around, I'd like her to come to Brockton Bay sometime and do a charity concert or something similar."She chuckled. "If this works, I'll provide transportation myself.""I'll hold you to that. See you around—frenemy mine."She didn't object to the tag, which I took as a hopeful sign.
"See you then."
<><>
Hebert Household, 30 minutes laterCherishOver the last day or so, Cherie had seen Taylor do a lot of impossible things, but this took the cake. "Okay, no. Seriously?""What?" asked Taylor, brushing her hair industriously. "Is there a problem?""No problems, but …" Cherie shook her head. "Last night, you killed a bunch of people guarding a fuck-ton of drugs, blew up or burned the drugs, sent Damsel of Distress packing back to wherever she came from …" She paused for breath."Stafford," Taylor supplied. "And you did good work making sure she didn't just flare up and do something stupid. Proving I'm not just going to murder every villain who comes to Brockton without giving them a chance to leave gives me a lot more leeway with the PRT.""She totally wanted to." Cherie shook her head. "It was like there was a demented monkey dancing around inside her head, hitting a button marked 'RAGE' every ten or fifteen seconds. She did
not
appreciate you saying no to her.""Few people do," Taylor observed. "That's why I have to be prepared to shout." She tilted her head. "You were saying?""Okay, yeah, so you chased off Damsel, then you
killed
Butcher and the Teeth in a way I
still
don't really understand …" She gave Taylor her most incredulous look. "… and now you're going to
school? How can you even
think
of school at a time like this?""Because it's nice and peaceful now." Taylor shrugged. "It used to be horrible, but now people leave me alone, I can read in the library at lunchtime, and contrary to popular culture, you
can
actually learn useful things at school. My power won't always tell me stuff I want to know, for instance."Cherie blinked, taken aback. "Wait, your power sometimes tells you things you want to know?" She'd known Atropos was a formidable combat Thinker (and something more than that, given how she'd utterly no-sold Butcher on all levels), but this was a step up."Oh, sure." Taylor put the brush down. "If there's something I need to be aware of in order to End something or someone, like where they're going to be at a certain time, I know it. Where it gets a bit weird is when I say something out loud that I never knew before. But hey, then I know it."This bore some thinking about. Cherie had already known she couldn't put anything over on Atropos, but this revelation underlined that. Still, there was the original point she was trying to make. "But what can you learn at school that you really need to know in the real world?"Taylor shrugged. "Math. History. Computers. Stuff like that. I can't lean on my power for
everything, and it's a good idea to know
why
stuff happens. Like they say, history doesn't repeat, but it sure as hell rhymes a lot. I can look at what I'm trying to do in Brockton Bay, then see if there's a historical analogue and figure out where that fell down and where it worked. Learn from the mistakes of the past.""… oh." How was it that Taylor could make her feel inadequate just by saying something so simple? "You can
do
that?""Well, I can try." Taylor gave Cherie a searching look. "When was the last time you were actually in school?""We didn't so much do
school, as our father's girlfriends taught us stuff when they felt like it and he wasn't bothered by it," Cherie explained awkwardly. "I know how to do math and read and write. He always said the rest of it was a big waste of time.""Why does that not surprise me." It wasn't a question. "Come on, then. Dad's waiting.""What?" Cherie followed Taylor out of her room, not sure about where she was going to.Taylor flashed a grin over her shoulder. "You're coming to school with me."As Cherie followed her down the stairs, one thought kept running through her mind.This can not end well.
<><>
About Thirty Miles North of Brockton BayHeartbreakerNikos Vasil grunted in irritation as he rolled over on the cheap motel bed. Travelling by night had its benefits, but sleeping by day was an absolute pain.However, his odyssey was almost over. Soon, he would have his hands on Atropos, and with her willing assistance, he would track down the rest of his wayward brood.Soon …
[A/N: Yes, PtE destroyed the powers as well as the personalities. It's not like Taylor needs them to be horrifically effective.]
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
TaylorI lounged in my car seat, tapping away at my phone, while Dad drove and Cherie peered forward from the back seat. She wanted to ask me something, that much I could tell without even looking, but she was still skittish about interrupting me in whatever I was doing. I appreciated her concern, even though I was totally able to handle the multi-tasking necessary to pay attention to her."What's up?" I asked, looking around from the phone while my thumbs continued to dance over the screen. "Whatever it is, you know you're totally allowed to ask me anything at any time."She blinked. "Oh, uh, I was just wondering how you were going to sneak me into your school. I mean, I walked in yesterday, sure, but they'll probably notice if a strange girl is wandering around for the whole day with nothing to do.""Oh, that part's easy." I held up the phone, still tapping away at it. "I'm in the process of enrolling you as a transfer student. All the paperwork's been filled out and retroactively filed. How do you feel about the name Cherie Reynaud?""Reynaud?" she asked, evidently taken aback. "You can just … change my name?""It's a digital world," I said expansively. "Reality is what computers say it is. I just told the computers that you're transferring in, made you a victim of faulty homeschooling—which is basically true—and sent Principal Blackwell a nasty email asking her why she hasn't set up the remedial classes you absolutely require.""But … won't she wonder why she never heard of me before?"Finished with my hacking shenanigans, I turned in my seat, reached back, and patted her on the cheek. "Cherie. Honey. She barely remembers the names of the students she
has.
As of thirty seconds ago, she's got a whole string of appropriately dated emails in her inbox, all supposedly read and replied to by her, about your pending transfer. When this one pops up, and I bring you in to see her, she's going to totally believe that she's had a massive brain fart, and give you all the excuses under the sun while she rushes to set it up."Dad began to chuckle. He tried to hold it in, but his laughter became more and more unrestrained until he had to pull over. Tears standing in his eyes, he laughed harder and harder, holding onto the steering wheel for support. I smirked as I watched his mirth, even as Cherie stared in incomprehension.Finally, he was able to calm down and wipe the tears from his eyes. Reaching across, he put his arm behind my shoulders and gave me a quick side-hug. "Thank you, Taylor," he said, still chuckling. "I had no idea how we were going to give that woman a suitable comeuppance, but the look on her face is going to be
priceless.
You just made my whole day."He checked his mirrors and started off again, but Cherie leaned forward. "I don't get it. Why is that so funny?"I decided to take over the explanation and leave Dad to concentrate on driving. "So, Blackwell saw fit to basically ignore my ex-bestie and her two partners in crime as they fucked my life over on a daily basis, over the last year and a bit. So far, so good?"Tentatively, she nodded. "Okay …"I let my grin grow wider, and added a few teeth. "So, Blackwell is an administrator first and foremost. Her job is keeping on top of running the whole damn school. This involves the well-being of the students which, to be honest, she
sucks
at. See previous example. But to be slapped in the face by a bunch of emails that seem to have been
read and replied to by her, and to have zero recollection of them, is going to send her into a flat spin. She's going to spend the next
month
combing through her email inbox
and
her spam inbox, looking to see if there's anything
else
she's missed. And she'll be looking over her shoulder the whole time for the other shoe to drop, because as far as she knows, she's fucked up big time." I tilted my head toward Dad. "My father does admin work for the Dockworkers' Association, so he knows exactly how solid the bricks she'll be shitting are.""Oh." She looked at Dad, who was still chuckling. "Oh, I
see. Wow. Did you do all this just to mess with her?""Honestly?" I shrugged. "I'm past all that. I don't hold grudges, these days. But … yeah, it was more than a little bit satisfying to fuck with her head while helping you out.""I see." She took a deep breath. "I'm kind of glad you decided not to do that to me."I gave her a toothy grin. "You're not one
tenth
the waste of space and time that she is."Besides, my power had seen a use for her. Several uses.But it might come across as impolite to say this out loud, so I didn't. She was coming along nicely, so there was no sense in antagonising her.Having a reliable minion was so
useful.
<><>
Winslow High SchoolCherishTaylor had been right, of course. It wasn't even a surprise to Cherie anymore. As they approached the principal's office, the jangled music of Blackwell's emotional chorus bespoke near-panic of the highest order. She got the impression that the woman was running around in circles with her hair on fire, at least figuratively speaking.Strolling up to the secretary's desk, Taylor leaned on it with her elbows. "Hi. Can you tell Principal Blackwell that Taylor Hebert is here?"The secretary's gaze shifted toward the closed door to the principal's office. "Uh … she's busy right now."Taylor smiled, but there was steel behind the expression. "Please tell her that I have the transfer student, Cherie Reynaud, with me. She might be willing to make time for us."From the way the secretary's eyes twitched, she'd definitely heard about Cherie. "I'll call her right away." Picking up the phone, she flinched at the
'What?'
that Cherie heard from a good six feet away. "Uh … the transfer student is here to see you?"Principal Blackwell must not have realised that she was nearly shouting. The door to her office was impressively soundproofed, but her voice echoed from the phone receiver quite well. "Arrrgh! Okay, send her in."Impassively, as though she hadn't just had her eardrum blown out in front of a couple of teenagers, the secretary nodded to Cherie. "She'll see you now.""Good." Taylor led the way, stepping forward and reaching for the door handle.The secretary raised her hand. "Not you, just her."Taylor looked her in the eye, and something there made the secretary flinch back. "Yes, me." Reaching out without breaking eye contact, she grabbed the door handle and pushed it open. Then she gestured for Cherie to enter, and followed her in.While Principal Blackwell appeared to have mastered the art of looking like she was in total control of the situation, the discordant turmoil of her emotional landscape exposed her attitude for the lie that it was. Still, she looked at Taylor and Cherie with a faux calm, with only the twitch in the corner of her left eye to betray her inner strife to those with the eyes to see it. A couple of chords of confusion rolled over her and Cherie realised that just for a moment, she'd had no idea who she was looking at.Then she blinked before focusing on Cherie. "Ah … Miss Rey-nowd?"Cherie shook her head. It might not be the name she was born with, but by God it would be pronounced correctly. "Rey-no," she corrected the narrowly built woman, putting the full French spin on it. "Cherie Reynaud. I'm supposed to be transferring here?""Yes, yes, right," muttered Blackwell, rubbing her temples. "We're getting the class into order right at this moment. But there have been unavoidable delays, so perhaps tomorrow.""Well, what am I supposed to do in the meantime?" Cherie was starting to enjoy herself.That got Blackwell all the more flustered. "I—I don't—I—""She can come to class with me," Taylor offered brightly. "That way, she can learn the layout of the school, and I can make sure she doesn't get lost."Blackwell blinked, and focused on Taylor properly for the first time. "Who … wait. Herbert …?""Hebert. Taylor Hebert." Every syllable slotted into place with the crisp cadence of a pump-action shotgun being racked, and with the same level of no-fucks-given. "I've been a student here since two thousand and nine." 'You ought to be able to recognise me by
now' went unspoken, but not unheard.Cherie watched with interest as Blackwell attempted to rally. "Ah. Right.
Why
exactly are you in my office, again …?"Taylor raised an eyebrow. "Nobody was waiting outside for Cherie so when she approached me for help, I decided it was my duty to get her where she needed to be. Or were you just going to make her wander around blindly in a strange school on her first day?""Of course not!" Blackwell's musical accompaniment gave the impression that she really, really wanted to tear her hair out by the roots. Which, in Cherie's opinion, could only improve the unflattering bowl cut. "I …
can
you help her for the day?""Sure." Taylor beamed innocently, as though she hadn't just spent the car ride carefully setting up the whole situation. Cherie suspected she was enjoying the principal's discomfort a little more than she was likely to admit to. "I can totally do that for you.""That would be good." Blackwell drew a deep breath and blew air out through her nostrils. "Which classes are you in?""Computer Studies with Mrs Knott, World Affairs with Mr Gladly, Art with Ms Claiborne, and Math with Mr Quinlan," Taylor rattled off. "I can talk to Mrs Knott. We get along.""That would be good, yes." Blackwell nodded. "I'll speak with the others." She glanced at the corner of her computer screen. "The home room bell is about to go.""Come on, Cherie." Taylor stood up. "I'll introduce you to Mrs Knott. She's nice."Cherie got up as well and followed her out. She waited until Blackwell's office door was swinging shut before she asked, "Does this sort of mixup happen often?"Taylor grinned. "Occasionally. They say …" The door clicked shut; Taylor's grin morphed into a smirk as she headed out of the main office with Cherie in tow. "Nicely done. She'll be wondering what 'they say' for the rest of the day."Cherie giggled; it was a relatively harmless prank, and Blackwell had come across as someone more deserving than most. But now she could finally circle around to something that had been bothering her since she'd gotten to Winslow. "Yeah. But … do I really
have
to do remedial classes? It sounds totally boring.""Yes." Taylor's tone brooked no dissent. "Your life up until now might've been even suckier than mine, but you
are
going to learn life skills before not having them kills you."There was only one answer Cherie could give to that. "Yes, ma'am."
<><>
Computer Studies ClassTaylor"… and she's new in town, so I'm keeping an eye on her until her father shows up this afternoon," I said semi-truthfully."Oh." Mrs Knott gave Cherie an appraising look. "Well, I'd like to welcome you to Winslow. I hope you enjoy it here. Where are you from, if you don't mind me asking?""Montreal originally, but I like Brockton Bay better." Cherie was doing her best to project 'earnest new student' without using her powers, as I'd told her."Well, that's lovely, dear. It has been rather, um, exciting over the last week. But it's much safer now; from what I hear, the only capes left in town are heroes, rogues, and Atropos. And she doesn't bother us ordinary folk."It was a little jarring to hear my cape name coming from Mrs Knott's mouth, but I supposed I shouldn't have been surprised. She lived in the same city I did, and I
had
been committing extremely public acts of violence since the previous Sunday. The note of conditional approval was also nice to hear. I suspected it was like Dad's attitude: while she didn't like
how
I did things, she couldn't argue with the results."Yeah, I've heard that about her too." Cherie flicked me a sidelong glance. "They say if you don't mess with her, she doesn't mess with you.""Which is a welcome change, to be sure." Mrs Knott sighed. "Well, we have a couple of spare terminals, so if you can help Cherie get set up with one, Taylor …?"I nodded firmly. "I can totally do that for you, Mrs Knott. You'll barely know she was there."She beamed at the both of us. "Thank you, Taylor. I hope you enjoy it here, Cherie." Turning, she went back up to the front of the classroom."Well,
that
was easier than I thought it would be," murmured Cherie as she sat down at the terminal next to mine.I showed her how to power up the computer, then guided her through onto PHO. That, I figured, would keep her occupied for the bulk of the class period. "This is Winslow. If you put on a good enough front, nobody thinks twice.""Why am I not surprised? After what you've already told me …" She let her voice trail off."Yeah." She wasn't wrong. I was just happy to be able to make the industrial-grade apathy work in
my
favour for once.But enough about the sins and flaws of Winslow. I sat down at my desk and booted up my terminal. Flexing my fingers, I grinned. It was time for another post.Let's do this.
<><>
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♦ Topic: I'm Baa-aack!In: Boards ► Brockton Bay ► New Capes ► AtroposAtropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me)Posted On Jan 11th 2011:Whew.Whadda day, whadda day.Folks, I have been having *fun*. It's been a busy thirty-six hours (or so), but it turns out that if you put your mind to it, you really can accomplish a lot in a short time.First, some messages: to everyone who's used to responding to me at midnight, I'm very sorry if you waited up for me. There was something I needed to get done at three in the morning (more about that later) so I decided to delay checking in until now.Also, to Director Piggot, apologies for using your private email but I figured you'd really want to know straight away. Anyways, I promise not to do it again. Unless I really have to. Or I just feel like it. You know how it goes.So, on to my recent doings. You may recall that I mentioned the existence of more drug warehouses. Well, the one owned by the Gesellschaft stayed put, and just stacked on armed guards everywhere. Snipers on rooftops, with anti-tank weapons in case I came in with an attack chopper or something (hey, it's not something I've actually ruled out) plus more guys with grenades, and lots of guys with lots of guns. Seriously, they made your average NRA get-together look like a bunch of pinko commie liberals.(No offense intended to any pinko commie liberals. Just saying.)So, after I sniped the snipers, liberated the grenades and blew the absolute *fuck* out of the drug stash (the fireball reached all the way to the street, this time) I went on to my next target.The other big supplier of illegal hard drugs in our fine city was (and I use the past tense advisedly) none other than the Elite. After I explained that yes, I could actually see them, they had the bright idea of loading all their product into a couple of eighteen-wheelers and cruising around town with a lead car and a chase car, all crewed by heavily armed guards.Because that *never* turns out badly. Ask Skidmark.So anyway, after I killed the guards, crashed the trucks and burned the drugs, I went home for a nap. Hey, even remorseless serial killers need their beauty sleep.Just by the way, this is notice served that if the Gesellschaft or Elite (I've already told the latter this, but it bears repeating) send *any* capes to Brockton Bay looking for trouble with me, I'll murder the fuck out of them. That's over and above my standing prohibition against anyone smuggling drugs or guns into or through the city.Try it twice, and I'll make sure you're entirely unable to try it a third time. (Spoilers: I'll come to where you are and kill you.)Where were we? Oh yeah, my nap.Sleeping the whole night through would've been nice (and would've meant I could do this post at midnight) but I had other fish to fry. Or rather, other capes to deal with.I have to ask: is it just me, or are some capes entirely incapable of pattern recognition? Or is it just that nobody smacked their noses with a rolled-up newspaper enough when they were starting out as a little baby villain?As you may have seen in the news, none other than Damsel of Distress rolled into town on the three AM bus. I decided that she needed a proper reception, so I greeted her along with my good friend, Mr Pump Action Shotgun. Edict and Licit were also there, at my invitation, and between the four of us we convinced Damsel of D that she really wanted to go back home again.If that wasn't bad enough, we had *another* visitation at seven in the morning. Fortunately, I'm a morning person, or I might've gotten violent. As it was, this was Butcher and the Teeth, so I got violent anyway. My lack of morning coffee had nothing to do with it, I swear.I had time to prep, so I set up a camera to record the whole thing. Footage can be found [here].To recap:I started with an AT-4 party favor, courtesy of the Gesellschaft. It certainly opened the festivities with a real bang. Animos wanted to jump all over me, but I don't approve of that kind of behavior so I smacked him on the head and put him in time-out.Then Vex got vexing and Spree started letting far too many people into the party. I had to cut Vex off with some pointed remarks of my own, while my good friend Mr Pump Action Shotgun had a conversation with Spree.I ran into Hemorrhagia then. She was into self-cutting, which was kind of creepy, but I was able to give her some fentanyl and she went right to sleep.While Butcher was distracted with Animos, I showed her my souvenir from meeting Hatchet Face, over and over again. You might say she came to pieces. And Animos ... well, he got a sore throat and had to lie down.On to a more serious subject that anyone in the know will be asking about:Am I the fifteenth Butcher?Answer: Nope.Next question: Why not?Answer: you may recall a conversation we had about how I can kill the Mastered condition in myself because I'm just that good? Well, the same applies to being Butcher'd. I don't roll that way. The Butcher is gone for good.Congratulations; you can all heave a sigh of relief that I'm still a relatively sane serial killer.Mwahahaha.On to other news: the Committee for Revitalizing Brockton Bay (or whatever they decide to call themselves) will be convening tomorrow afternoon, when the money comes through for the Slaughterhouse Nine bounties.I have it on good authority that a reasonable chunk of this will be paid out as a cash stimulus to every man, woman and child in the city below a certain standard of living.Now, here's a few messages from me to you.First: don't even try to cheat. I'll know.Second: don't steal anyone else's stimulus payment. I'll know.Third: don't issue threats to the committee. I'll know.For those who think I should just hand over all that money to the companies that employ people, you should be aware by now that trickle-down economics *doesn't work*. If the big guys want that cash, they should be willing to give out goods and services to earn it. This is what 'stimulus' *means*.Anyways, just so you know, Heartbreaker will be hitting town this evening. And after all those warnings, too. I am so shocked and surprised. Honest.There will be footage.Toodles!(Showing page 1 of 12)
►Bagrat
(Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)Replied On Jan 11th 2011:Oh, man. I have stayed up way too late. Sleep after this. Call in sick or something.Anyway, *holy crap* has Atropos been busy. Once more, be not in the slightest surprised that everything she said she'd do, and everything she said she'd done, is one hundred percent accurate.Everything.There is now a warehouse in the Docks area that's basically a toxic, gutted ruin, to match the other one on the edge of town. Quite a few casualties, but they were one and all holding guns or in the very close vicinity of firearms. The ones we've been able to identify were very bad people indeed, and they evidently failed to follow the Atropos Rule Number One, which is basically Do Not Mess With Atropos.And yes, they had sniper rifles and three AT-4 anti-tank launchers. We found the fourth on site at the city limits, where the Butcher & Teeth curbstomp happened.Following an anonymous text message, we found two crashed eighteen-wheelers, on fire, with drugs inside and armed corpses outside. Plus a couple of crashed chase cars. Did I say she's been busy? She's been busy.Then of course was the Damsel of Distress face-off. I have no doubt that if it weren't for Atropos, she'd be digging deep into the underworld right now. And from her whole attitude, if it weren't for Edict and Licit, she'd be decorating a slab right now. When I first saw the footage, I honestly didn't know which way it would go. I'm told Atropos herself contacted E&L a couple of hours beforehand, so she wasn't *eager* to kill D of D, even though she's entirely capable of it.All of which just goes to add another shade of gray to our very own homegrown angel of death.And finally, there's the Butcher kill. Only watch that footage if you have a strong stomach. She doesn't pull any punches. Still got a thing for ironic deaths, though. I'd rate it at about point seven five Skidmarks.Also, in case anyone missed it, Butcher was under the influence of Animos' scream when Atropos killed her. That means Butcher's powers were suppressed, which is probably why he didn't make the jump to her. (To be honest, if I was Butcher, I wouldn't take that risk either.)(Kidding. I kid.)Anyway, after all that, I've just got one more thing to say:Heartbreaker, you idiot. Don't do it.More tonight after we see exactly what Atropos has planned for Heartbreaker.Prepare for 'heartbreak' puns. Because we all know she's gonna go there.Sleepy-time now.
►GreatAndTerribleAisha
(Verified Atropos Fan)Replied On Jan 11th 2011:Woo! You GO, Atropos!
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me)Replied On Jan 11th 2011:@GreatAndTerribleAisha - aren't you supposed to be in class right now?
►GreatAndTerribleAisha
(Verified Atropos Fan)Replied On Jan 11th 2011:You saw nothing.Turning off phone now. Promise.
►LepsdaeReplied On Jan 11th 2011:Okay, now I'm curious as to what kind of ironic death Heartbreaker is going to suffer.Bagrat is probably correct about the 'broken heart' puns. But *how*, exactly?Is she going to kill his influence over his thralls and let them hunt him down?(I would totally pay to watch that)
►VenomTongueReplied On Jan 11th 2011:@GreatAndPowerfulAisha - don't take this the wrong way, but you're pretty cool. How do I get to be an official Atropos fan as well?
►WhiteSleevesReplied On Jan 11th 2011:@Lepsdae - I predict a heart attack, or she'll just go full Temple of Doom on him.
►GrayBottleReplied On Jan 11th 2011:Imma throw my hat in the ring and go with a box of chocolates ... with some more of that fentanyl as a surprise ingredient.
►GleamingGlareReplied On Jan 11th 2011:A heart attack would be too ... non-obvious.I'm going with 'rips it out of his chest and tears it in half'.
End of Page. 1,
2,
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...
10,
11,
12(Showing page 2 of 12)
►BrickFrogReplied On Jan 11th 2011:But can we be sure that Atropos didn't end up with Butcher in her head? I mean, really? It could all be an act.
►Dragon
(Veteran Member) (Verified Cape) (Protectorate Member) (Guild Member)Replied On Jan 11th 2011:@BrickFrog - I can help you there. I was actually in communication with Atropos when she killed Butcher. None of my voice analysis software shows the slightest change in stress levels throughout the entire episode. Which means that either she's not the Butcher, or she's the greatest actor the world has ever seen.And no offense to Atropos, but she's not that great at acting.
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me)Replied On Jan 11th 2011:@Dragon - none taken. Thanks for the vote of confidence.
►Reave
(Verified PRT Agent)Replied On Jan 11th 2011:@Atropos - We talked about this. Blowing up warehouses full of drugs is dangerous, and poses a threat to innocent citizens. Also, how many people did you actually kill in there? Can you be certain no innocents got caught in the crossfire?As for the eighteen-wheelers—seriously, a high-speed vehicle chase through the city, then deliberately causing a crash? Did you have to kill them all?I'm not even going to go into the risk you took, going after Butcher. You couldn't have known for certain that you could do this without being possessed.You need to come in so we can sit down and have a serious talk about your methods.
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me)Replied On Jan 11th 2011:@Reave - Whoa, back off a little there. You're a little tetchy in the morning before you have your coffee, aren't you?I'm not going to get into the habit of explaining myself, not even to you, so count yourself lucky.First, I don't take orders from you, from the PRT, or from the Protectorate. If *certain people* (they know who they are) had done their jobs from the beginning, Brockton Bay wouldn't be in the state it is. I'm just cleaning up the mess and making sure no more messes get made while I'm at it.*You* talked about it. I didn't.Second, no innocents got hit with stray bullets. A few people will end up with minor chest complaints, but they'll recover. And in the meantime, that pile of shit I blew up isn't going to addict anyone or cause any ODs. Neither is it going to make anyone money. In fact, the guys who brought it in are now seriously out of pocket. And finally, I left you a nice gift-wrapped present. You're welcome.Third, everyone who died in the eighteen-wheeler chase were specifically being paid to keep those drugs out of my hands. They were about to plow through Downtown proper, never mind the pedestrians or other cars. If I hadn't stopped them where I did, we'd have a lot more dead and injured.Fourth, give me *some* credit for the Butcher thing. I had it all planned out.Also, I note that you're carefully not mentioning Damsel of Distress and how that worked out just fine?I get it. You didn't have enough sleep, and right now you're caffeine deficient.The drugs are gone, Butcher and the Teeth are dead, and Damsel of Distress is back in Stafford.Trust me, last night could've gone a hell of a lot worse.
►RedComedyReplied On Jan 11th 2011:Wait, did Atropos make a *flour bomb* out of drugs? Was *that* what that almighty explosion was?
►JediMedicReplied On Jan 11th 2011:That's what she did. Twice, even.
►TeamMom
(Senior Moderator)Replied On Jan 11th 2011:@Reave - Can we just dial back the aggression a little, please? I know you're concerned, but right now Atropos is willing to communicate and give us advance warning of what she does. I'd rather we didn't antagonize her to the point that she stops talking to us. Okay?Everyone else, I understand that Heartbreaker is not a nice man, but please dial back the suggestions for how Atropos might kill him. We're not supposed to be approving of that sort of thing.
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me)Replied On Jan 11th 2011:@TeamMom - thanks. He wasn't bothering me, and I wasn't going to cut you guys off, but I appreciate it anyway.@VenomTongue - Imma keep my fan club small for the moment. As GTA is the de facto president of it, she gets to invite people in that she figures are worthy.Everyone else - Heartbreaker is absolutely going to die due to a broken heart. Mwhahahahaha.
►Licit
(Verified Cape) (PRT Employee)Replied On Jan 11th 2011:I just want to throw my two cents in here. Atropos didn't have to call Edict and me in to pick up Damsel, and she didn't have to hold off the way she did until we got there. It could easily have gone really badly, but it didn't.Atropos is alright in my book.
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<><>
MadisonWhen Taylor entered the World Affairs classroom, Madison was able to suppress her fear reaction. The last time they'd spoken, Taylor had actually praised her, after all.
I'm doing fine … I'm doing fine … I'm doing fine …And then all that went to hell when she saw the girl who entered the classroom directly
after
Taylor. She would never forget that face, those intense eyes. There was a roaring in her ears. Distantly, she became aware of Julia asking her if she was okay. A whimper tried to force its way out from between her lips, but she wouldn't let it.
Don't draw attention.Taylor walked straight up to her, and put a hand on her shoulder. "Hello, Madison." Her expression was friendly, all except for her eyes. It was the same look she'd seen when she was sitting at the table in the cafeteria, struggling to breathe. "You've already met Cherie here, yeah?"Reluctantly, her gaze dragged itself over to the other girl, who raised a hand in a brief wave. "Hi.""Um … hi?" She hated that her voice rose to a squeak right at the end.Taylor smiled, though there was no humour in it. "So, Cherie kind of got off on the wrong foot when she first got here, but she's doing better now. She'll be attending Winslow, as soon as they get her classes sorted out. In the meantime, I'll be showing her around.""That's nice," said Julia uncertainly. Madison had impressed on her that Taylor wasn't to be bullied anymore. At all. Ever. There hadn't been much explanation at the time, but Madison was fairly sure Julia had picked up on the current buzz in their year (and above and below it as well) that 'maybe Taylor Hebert is Atropos and maybe she isn't, but given she's probably killed everybody who knows, let's not risk it'.Cherie's eyebrows rose, and Madison realized that she'd suddenly made a connection. "Oh, these are the … uh,
friends,
you told me about earlier?""Some of them, yeah." Taylor's smile never shifted. "Emma's in another class. Sophia … isn't with us anymore."From the sidelong glance Cherie gave Taylor, she knew exactly what the phrase entailed. It also gave Madison a whole new set of entirely unwelcome epiphanies.Cherie's a cape. That's how she was doing that stuff when Taylor interrupted her.She's helping Taylor kill people. And it doesn't bother her.Oh, fuck. There's two of them.The rumour was already spreading around Winslow that more drug buildings had exploded overnight, just as Atropos had said she'd do on PHO. Also, though this was a little more than a theory, that Atropos had taken on Butcher and the Teeth, and killed them all. While she wasn't about to discount it—she'd
seen
the way Taylor had shredded the Nine, while making it look like something she was doing to pass the time while bored—it would also mean that
Taylor was now the Butcher.Taylor was
already
terrifying enough. What was she going to be like with all the Butcher's powers plus insane into the bargain? And how was Madison supposed to get far enough away from her to start warning people?She suddenly became aware that Taylor's eyes were fixed on her. The smile was gone, as though it had never existed. Slowly, Taylor leaned in, to put her mouth next to Madison's ear. "No, I'm not," she whispered. "Though I appreciate the concern.""Okay, everyone, can we just take our seats please?" With his faux casual tone, Mr G was still trying to be the 'cool' teacher. Normally, Madison would've found it incredibly lame, but right now she was insanely grateful for the distraction. Trying not to scuttle across the classroom, she found her seat and plonked herself into it."What was that about?" asked Julia in a low voice, glancing back at where Cherie was taking a seat next to Taylor. "What did she say?""It's not important." There was no way Madison was going to blab anything that Taylor wanted kept private. She enjoyed having all her internal organs right where they were.Mr G cleared his throat. "Also, everyone. You may have noticed a stranger in your midst. This is Cherie Reyn … uh, Rey …""Reynaud," Taylor supplied without prompting, saying it with a French accent. "She's transferring in from Montreal.""Yes, thank you, Taylor." Mr G gave a strained smile. "If everyone could give Cherie a warm welcome?" He nodded at the half-hearted applause. "Thank you. Now, in today's lesson, we're going to be looking closer to home than normal. Usually, capes tend to strike a balance between heroes and villains in any given area, with neither side doing much to change this. But once in a while, either the heroes capture all the major villains or the villains drive out the heroes. Can anyone give me an example of both, and then we can discuss the pros and cons of each one?"From the corner of her eye, Madison saw Taylor sit forward, pen poised over her notepad and her expression intent as a dozen hands shot into the air.Yeah, I just bet you're interested.
<><>
Taylor2:15 PMAs we left the Art classroom, I glanced at Cherie. "So, how are you enjoying Winslow so far?""It's not as bad as I thought it was going to be." Cherie gave me a look of sly amusement. "The World Affairs discussion was interesting, at least.""The less said about the World Affairs discussion," I growled, "the better. How about the rest of it?"Cherie gave a half-shrug. "I never got to try sculpting with clay before, so that was fun. What's next?""Math." Losing my bad mood in an instant, I shot her a sympathetic look. "It's where you're likely to be most bored, mainly because we'll be doing exercises that we already know how to do, and there'll be no real room to shoehorn you in like we did with Art and World Affairs.""Are you sure?" Cherie looked dubious. "I mean, I already know how to do math. Adding, subtracting, multiplying, stuff like that. What else is there?"I drew a deep breath. "I … I can't even begin to answer that question. Math at high school level is a lot more complicated than just adding and multiplying." I balked at the idea of trying to quickly explain square roots and exponents and even basic algebra to someone whose idea of difficult math was adding up prices on a shopping list.We entered the classroom and found a couple of unoccupied desks next to each other. Taking the math textbook out of my backpack, I wordlessly handed it over to Cherie, just so she could get an idea of what she was missing out on. Cherie opened it and traced her finger down the contents page, her lips moving silently as she encountered unfamiliar words.Halfway through, she stopped and glanced past me. "Who's the redhead?" she asked in a murmur. "She's acting like you're about to jump up and stab her to death with your pen."I didn't bother looking. "That's Emma. She's the other one. My ex-bestie."Cherie snorted quietly. "Well,
she's
a fuckin' moron.""In fairness, at least part of it was Sophia's influence." I felt I had to set the record straight. "I'm still not sure
why
Emma decided she needed a new best friend, or how Sophia talked her into backstabbing me, or however it happened. But it did, and shit happened, but now I'm good."Mr Quinlan chose that moment to enter the classroom, and the discussion was put on hold. Though I suspected it wasn't over and done with yet.Oh, well. What happens, happens.
<><>
Hebert Household5:37 PMDanny"Good afternoon, girls." Danny came in through the back door and closed it behind him. "How was your day?"Taylor looked up from what he figured was math homework—he remembered that sort of thing with a less than nostalgic shudder—while Cherie seemed to be industriously poring through Taylor's World Affairs textbook. "It went okay," Taylor said with a grin. "Blackwell was still running in circles, last we checked.""Good, good." Danny loosened his bootlaces, then levered the boots off with his toes. "So, how do you like Winslow, Cherie?"Looking up from the textbook, Cherie wrinkled her nose. "Better than I expected. It's weird not being around people who know my every secret. Though half the students there seem to know Taylor's Atropos, or at least suspect it, but everyone thinks they're the only one that knows. I'm not the centre of attention for once, which is nice."Danny blinked at the unwelcome news, then stared at Taylor. "They
know
you're Atropos?""No, Dad." She shook her head, still grinning. "They
suspect. But the more certain they are, the less willing they are to actually talk to someone about it. Just in case it's true.""… oh." Shaking his head, Danny went to the fridge for the pitcher of fruit punch. "How did they figure it out?"Taylor leaned back in her chair. "I'm thinking Emma and Madison did it, but not on purpose. After I killed Sophia, they started going all-out to tell their cronies to leave me alone. And that was just when I was starting to show confidence in school and the news broke about Atropos and the gang bosses …""They added two and two, and accidentally ended up at four." Danny poured himself a glass then put the pitcher back in the fridge. "And nobody's planning to do anything stupid?""Haha, no," Cherie said. "It's like, they've suddenly got hold of Alexandria's secret identity, only worse. Because Alexandria
might not
kill you for outing her. Atropos, on the other hand …"Taylor's grin was suddenly full of teeth. "… absolutely would. I've made that abundantly and very publicly clear.""Yeah, I doubt there's anyone in the
state
who thinks you're likely to go easy on someone pulling that shit." Danny dragged out a chair from the kitchen table and sat down. "Not after emptying a city of its supervillains in just one week." Cherie snickered, and Danny glanced her way, not sure what the joke was. "Did I say something funny?"Cherie looked over at Taylor, who grumbled in her throat. "Okay, fine. You might as well get it out of your system.""Okay, then." Cherie put the textbook down. "In World Affairs, Mr Gladly wanted to discuss the concept of heroes clearing all the villains out of a city, or the villains chasing out all the heroes.""Like Taylor's doing right here," Danny guessed."Exactly." Leaning across the table, Cherie put her hand on Taylor's arm. "But every time he tried to steer the discussion toward Brockton Bay in particular, nearly everyone in the classroom glanced at Taylor, then shut up."Danny tried to figure out what the problem was. "So … they
didn't
talk about it?""Not a word," Cherie confirmed, her eyes alight with amusement. "It was like they'd never even heard of Atropos. Nobody wanted to be the one who got her attention.""Meanwhile, all
I
wanted was some feedback," Taylor groused. "Would that have been so difficult?""Ah." It was all made clear now. "I think they call that 'suffering from success', hon. Congratulations. You're officially too scary for your own good."Taylor rolled her eyes. "It's
not funny."Danny stilled the twitch in his lips. "Never said it was."From the dirty look she gave him, she wasn't convinced.
<><>
7:22 PMHeartbreakerNikos Vasil cruised into Brockton Bay from the northwest, eyes open and scanning his surroundings. He was alert and rested due to his enforced daytime sleeping pattern, and his gasoline tank was full in case he had to travel on quickly—or beat a hasty retreat. Neither the gasoline nor the motel rooms had been paid for in anything as tawdry as money; he had instead allowed the respective proprietors to offer him their wares free of charge, as was his right.His first order of business was to create a stable of willing servants here in the city, where they could go out and seek his prey for him, if she did not find him first. Rumour had it that Atropos was preternaturally good at locating parahuman infiltrators into her city. Of course, it didn't matter to him how they came into contact, just so long as he got within earshot of her. The news footage of her confrontation with Damsel of Distress had been particularly educational; if she hesitated that long before attempting violence on him, she would be firmly his long before she chose to act.Rolling down the pretentiously named Lord Street, with the waterfront (and the force field shielded Protectorate base) to his left, and people frequenting various eating establishments on his right, he smiled. The city would be his hunting ground; he would have his prey and be gone before anyone except Atropos even knew he was in town. And if someone did stumble upon him, they would join the search party.It was, in fact, a no-lose situation for him.Of course, to commence the hunt, he would have to go on foot, so he pulled over into the next parking lot he saw. It was nowhere near full, being a Tuesday night, but he parked down at the back anyway. Canadian registered cars wouldn't be unknown this close to the border, but they would definitely draw a second glance, and he didn't want that sort of attention.Climbing out of the car, he locked it, then ran his hands over his hair and shirt to make sure he was presentable. He wanted people to not give him a second glance, so that he could walk right up and put them right under his spell—"Took you long enough."He spun around at the familiar voice. There, under one of the light poles illuminating the parking lot, stood Cherie. She had something held up in front of her, and he frowned, squinting. Was that a
phone? Was she
recording
him?Well, no matter. This was turning out better than he could possibly have expected. He didn't know what she was expecting to do with the recording, or why she might have thought he would allow her to keep it, but she was sadly mistaken on all counts. "Cherie," he ordered, gesturing to her. "Come here. Get into the car, at once."She took a step forward then stopped, still recording him. "No," she said. "You don't have power over me.""No," he snapped. "It doesn't work that way.
You will obey my words.
Now get in the car!"Someone tapped him on the shoulder, startling him badly. He began to turn, but all he registered was a dark form before something crashed into his jaw with a shattering noise. The impact was tremendous, and he spun around before falling heavily onto the gravel of the parking lot.As he blinked his eyes clear of the daze, he found himself being picked up and draped face-down over the hood of his own car, his arm held uncomfortably behind his back. The heat of the metal was unpleasant to the touch, but he wasn't being given much choice in the matter. Cherie had come closer, still holding the phone, and for the first time, he got a good look at his assailant.It was Atropos.
She found me first. How did she find me first?
Nikos had not felt fear for a long time, but now he began to experience the stirrings of it.Right at that moment she was holding him down on the hood of the car with one thumb on a pressure point in his wrist. With her other hand, she passed off an object to Cherie, who tucked it under her arm. It looked like a large Valentine's heart made of hard candy, shattered in half by the impact with his jaw.Still, this was his opportunity. "You must obey me," he said, or tried to say. But his jaw hurt abominably when he tried to move it, and all that came out was a mumble. At the same time, he forced intense love and affection in Atropos' direction."Save it," Atropos said briskly. "Your jaw's broken. You can't say a damn thing. Anyway, that crap doesn't work on me."But it should have worked on
her.
He rolled his eyes toward Cherie, who was still filming the entire thing."She's wearing earplugs, you idiot." Atropos' voice was heavy with sarcasm. "You think we
didn't
see you coming?"And indeed, Cherie was removing bright yellow plastic earplugs from each ear, making sure to keep the phone pointed at him. She gave him a broad and impertinent grin, then flipped him the bird.Still holding him down, Atropos reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.
Good luck with that,
he thought smugly. He wasn't so careless as to use his face or fingerprint as his unlocking ID. It would require a six-digit PIN code, which he never even wrote down …Bip-bip-bip-bip-bip-bipAnd then, to his shock, when she spoke again, it was with
his voice.
"Yes, it is me. Call everyone in. You all need to hear this. Place the phone on speaker."His brain whirled, trying to figure out how this could have gone so badly. He'd had a
plan.
Nobody could resist his power.
Nobody.This doesn't happen to me!Atropos spoke once more; from the look of distaste on Cherie's face, she sounded just like him. He couldn't do more than mumble, and the threat of that one pressure point kept him in place."Do you all hear my voice? Are you listening? Then listen to this, my last command for you.
Ignore every other command I have ever given.
They no longer hold true. You are free of me. I give you leave to go where you will, do what you will. You are released. You are free. Do you understand?"No! No! You can't do that! You can't take that all away from me!
He tried to struggle, to pull free, as his entire world was pulled out from under him. Lightning seared up his arm as the pressure point was jabbed, and he subsided once more."Good. Go forth. Be good to one another, and those around you. I leave you now." She ended the call, and dropped the phone into her pocket. Then, with a metallic sliding noise, she drew a large and distressingly sharp-looking pair of shears. "Nikos."He opened his eyes wide as she waved them near his face.
Is she going to blind me? What is she going to do?Looking down at him, she spoke harshly. "Release them. Relax your power. Let them all go."What? No, I can't do that!
All he had to do was find them once more and reverse the orders she'd given them …It was as though she'd heard his thoughts. "Yes. Yes, you can. Now, you may be a little reluctant, which makes me wonder. Is it possible to castrate a man by going in through his asshole, and would he still be so stubborn once I've done so?" The shears left his sight; a moment later, he felt parting cloth, and the touch of a cold sharp metal point in an area nobody
ever
wants to feel sharp metal. "Well?"NO!
He tried to scream, tried to pull free, but all that happened was another jolt of agony down his arm, his jaw ached even more, and there was a painful jab in his nether regions."That sounds like permission to me. Wouldn't you say so?"To his horror, his traitorous daughter nodded firmly, and even made the phone 'nod' as well."Yeah, I thought so too. Try to relax, Vasil. That way, it'll only be mildly agonizing."No! No! I'll do it!
He tried to mumble his acquiescence. Thankfully, she paused."Well?" she asked. "I'm waiting."Closing his eyes, he capitulated. For the first time since he could remember, he relaxed his power entirely, releasing everyone held in its thrall. It didn't mean much in the long run—all he had to do was talk to someone for a short time to re-establish it—but it did mean he couldn't give orders over the phone to anyone.One by one, they all slipped away, out of his reach. There were so many of them, some he'd even forgotten about; when the last leash dissolved, he felt naked. Exposed."Good." The metal blade was removed from its highly intrusive position. "Well done. You can take direction, at least."He barely had time to relax before he was suddenly and abruptly rolled over onto his back. Before he could begin to struggle free, a hard knee drove into his crotch and he was helpless with agony once more."But now we have the problem of
you," she mused. "I warned you not to come to my city and start shit. How many times? Three? Four? More warnings than anyone else got, anyway. And yet, here you are."She reached out without turning away from Nikos, and Cherie put the half-shattered heart into her hand, in what was evidently a pre-planned move. With growing terror, he noticed for the first time just how
sharp
the lower end of it was."People say the way to a man's heart is through his stomach." Atropos shook her head. "They're wrong. Personally, I favour going up and under the ribcage."With a sudden vicious move, she stabbed him
with the candy heart, splitting his skin and driving the sharp point deep into his chest; letting out a choked cry despite his broken jaw, he arched his back in agony. Despite the unusual nature of the murder weapon, the end came quickly. His last sight was of his daughter, watching with altogether too much satisfaction.
<><>
TaylorWe left him there, lying across the hood of his car. Someone would report the murder to the cops sooner or later, but that was okay. I'd post the footage later on that night, after scrubbing Cherie's name out of it.Heartbreaker had been Ended, and his legacy with him."You okay?" I asked Cherie, as we headed back to where Dad was waiting in his car.She nodded, and sniffled a little. "Yeah. It's just that … seeing him brought back all the old terror, where I couldn't help but do as he told me. When you made him let me go … let
all
of us go … it was like a huge weight I'd never even known about, just gone. And then you made sure he could never hurt us again." Turning to me, she hugged me. "Thank you."I held her close, comforting her. "You're welcome."
<><>
Somewhere Well Away from Brockton BayTattletale"What the hell was that?"Lisa looked over at Alec. "What was what?"He bumped his temple with the heel of his hand as though trying to shake his thoughts loose. "Something really weird just happened. In my head. It's like … you know when you've had a bad cold and your sinuses are totally full of really gross shit, and you blow your nose and it all comes out at once, and how weird it feels after? Well, it's like that.""Okay, first, that's a disgusting description." Lisa shook her head, trying not to think about it. "Second, any idea why it happened?"Alec jumped up. "I've got one possi—ooh." Without another word, he turned and headed for the door."Make sense already," snapped Rachel.Lisa frowned. "Where are you going?"Alec grinned—actually
grinned—for the first time in a long time. "Gonna buy some confetti."And then he was gone, leaving Lisa to figure out what he meant.
Relevant Sidestory
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N 1: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
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♦ Topic: Fucking Around and Finding Out: Heartbreaker EditionIn: Boards ► Brockton Bay ► New Capes ► AtroposAtropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me)Posted On Jan 12th 2011:Good morning to you wonderful people of Brockton Bay!(Well, *technically* morning).I decided to make this post just after midnight because, as the saying goes, why the hell not. Also, my loyal fans who have been waiting up for me to do just this deserve a little bit of a reward, do you not? Yeah, you totally do.So ...Not to draw this out, but I'm absolutely going to draw this out ...Heartbreaker ...is dead.Now, I swear to you all, cross my heart and hope to die in a thoroughly ironic manner; I am not a Master. Nikos Vasil came to America and to Brockton Bay entirely of his own accord. (No, no, Accord, not you). I told him not to come here. I even warned him he'd die if he did.Okay, yeah, I taunted the hell out of him too, but *wow*, didn't the man have any pattern recognition skills at all?(Sources say no).So there I was, just chilling in a parking lot off Lord Street with a friend of mine who shall remain nameless, when he came right to me. I mean, what are the odds?(Apparently one hundred percent).And then he tried to pull his Heartbreaker patented whammy on me, but you've already been filled in on how I do with Master effects. Still, he was being just a little bit tiresome, so I broke his jaw with this big fuck-off hard candy heart I just happened, accidentally-on-purpose, to be carrying around with me.Quick query: If I kill someone with a candy heart, could that be defined as death via heart attack?Anyway, I broke the heart (yeah, you can see how this is going) then made him let go his influence on everyone he's ever afflicted with his power.Once he did what he was told, I did what I'd already said I was going to. I stabbed him through the heart *with* the broken candy heart.Or to put it another way, I 'broke' his heart with a broken heart.Either way, he died because of a broken heart. Footage is [here].And if anyone's wondering whether I would've carried out the threat I made if he'd been difficult about it ...... yeah, I totally would have. (Just a reminder: Skidmark).On a completely different topic, expect an explosion off the coast sometime tonight. The Gesellschaft has decided to try to sneak some drugs and guns in by sea.Emphasis on 'try'. Mwahahaha.Don't do it, guys. Or to put it another way, go ahead. Dooo eeet. I need the target practice. (Well, I don't, but shooting Nazis is always fun).Anyways, that's it for the moment.Toodles!(Showing page 1 of 17)
►Bagrat
(Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)Replied On Jan 12th 2011:... well, crap.She did it.Or rather, *he* did it.Heartbreaker actually did what nobody *really* expected him to, but everyone (for a given definition of 'everyone') hoped he would.The colossal moron actually came to Brockton Bay.And as Atropos' post explains, what happened next was utterly predictable. A five-year-old could've seen it coming.And yes, Heartbreaker did indeed die from a broken heart.(At least most of the gore was kept on the inside this time, which I totally appreciate.)The PRT got an 'anonymous' call a few minutes after it happened. (Anonymous as in, "Hi, this is totally not Atropos, but you might want to go check out this particular parking lot for someone who might or might not be Heartbreaker.")And just incidentally, the PRT in Canada got one around the same time. They investigated the location given to find a bunch of people sitting around in tears, alternating between apologizing to each other and offering prayers of thanks for their release. Some of these have been identified as people who have been missing for quite some time.Initial psychiatric assessment indicates that they are suffering from varying levels of PTSD, but that they're all ready and willing to go forward with therapy. (Which they will get for free. Because Canadian healthcare system.)Oh, and they all tell the same story of having an almost religious experience at the exact same instant, when all the oppressive darkness and horror and voices inside their head were stripped away at once ... at the precise time Atropos dealt with Heartbreaker.Which explains the prayers of thanks, I guess.I hope nobody actually tells them that Atropos did it. Not sure I could handle a religious pilgrimage, right now.
►DoggySteakReplied On Jan 12th 2011:Well, that's one kind of broken heart, I guess.
►Director_is_me
(Verified not PRT Director)Replied On Jan 12th 2011:I salute you, Atropos, with a can of beer.
►Underwater_FlowerReplied On Jan 12th 2011:Goddamn, I did NOT need the mental image of shears castrating someone *through your asshole*.
►UnconcernedFoxReplied On Jan 12th 2011:*settles back with the conveyor belt delivering regular packets of popcorn when needed*
►Reave
(Verified PRT Agent)Replied On Jan 12th 2011:@Atropos - I would like to begin by apologizing for the sharp tone in my last post. You were entirely correct that I was running on insufficient caffeine for my current level of sleep deprivation (not even going to ask how you knew that).Secondly, once I looked over the events of last night (the warehouse et al) with fresh eyes, I saw how you were able to control events to minimize property damage and hazard to innocents.And thirdly ... well, you told Heartbreaker if he came to Brockton Bay you'd kill him, and that was what you did. It wasn't like he didn't know.Still, we both know it's my job to ask you to come in, sit down and have a conversation about your methods and how we can achieve mutually acceptable aims without all the death. You haven't yet, but I live in hope.Also, about the Gesellschaft smuggling operation ... could you maybe give us some pointers, so we could coordinate our efforts? They're probably not all Nazis, and they don't really have to die.
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me)Replied On Jan 12th 2011:@Reave - hey, no need for an apology (but accepted anyway). It's all good. Job stress gets to anyone. (Except to me. I love my job).I figure I'll keep doing the way I'm doing for the moment. It seems to be working.Regarding the upcoming fireworks display: if I let you guys in on it, some of you would get hurt and maybe killed. I'd rather *they* got killed. As for some of them not being Nazis, do you know what you call a group with one Nazi and nine guys who choose to hang out with a Nazi? Ten Nazis.I'll drop you a line when it's nearly go-time, so you can head out and start dragging bodies out of the water.
►SakinReplied On Jan 12th 2011:Dang, she pulled a Riddick (you know, from that Aleph movie?)I was half expecting her to pull out a lollipop next, and murder some asshole with that.
►EightySixEnhanceReplied On Jan 12th 2011:At this point how long until Brockton Bay is known as cape Afghanistan, where empires go to die?
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►DoggySteakReplied On Jan 12th 2011:It's already that for criminal empires, any that attempts to set up a crime syndicate here just ends. Do not go to jail, do not pass go, remove your piece, houses, and hotels from the board. All property will be auctioned.
►TangleReplied On Jan 12th 2011:As with several villains before him, Atropos has just ended Heartbreaker's influence quite thoroughly and with a side of irony.
►AbbessGerReplied On Jan 12th 2011:Heartbreaker made you crush on him.Atropos candy crushed him.Also, that kill was sweet.That's all I have for now.Sorry.
►RadalabReplied On Jan 12th 2011:I for one did not expect a giant broken candy Valentine's Day heart. I kind of thought maybe some sort of psychological attack, like she for that dome head in the slaughterhouse nine, or maybe some weird weapon that's named "something" heart in a different language. But nope. Giant candy heart. It's surprisingly poetic, apt, hilarious, and is chef's kiss all at once.Anyone think their personal overton window of "acceptable" behavior has kind of shifted in the last week or two? Sure these are deaths of really bad people, but it's a little odd to be saying "this murder is the chef's kiss!" I don't think I'm a baddie or anything, but it's a bit odd.
►TangleReplied On Jan 12th 2011:Maybe, but so far each and every one of Atropos' victims (that we know about) has absolutely deserved their various ignominious fates. And, from what I understand, other than maybe Oni Lee, she's even given each one a chance to not get killed.So far, it seems only Damsel In Distress has taken the offered opportunity to Get-Out-of-Brutally-Ironic-Death-Free, even if she did cut it down to the wire before choosing the wiser path.
►truefactslolReplied On Jan 12th 2011:Yes, all her targets may have done terrible things, but what about the rule of law? What about innocent until proven guilty?Atropos kills people who are not proven guilty, thus he/she kills those who are, in the eyes of the law, still innocent!We have his/her word for it that they are all horrible people, but I, for one am not going to accept the word of a self-admitted serial killer that all his/her victims "had it coming."
►flyhomeETReplied On Jan 12th 2011:This all seems kind of weird. I see little but praise for a serial killer taking over the city and strong-arming local law enforcement to look the other way.Did I Rip Van Winkle into an alternate universe or something?
►NomdiispReplied On Jan 12th 2011:Didn't she say one of Heartbreaker's kids was in custody (not to mention whichever one was filming/acting as a distraction & under her wing)? So we actually have two people smart enough to take the second option!Fanclub chief you gotta tell us if HB's kid working with Atropos is cool or not when you visit her lair next!
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me)Replied On Jan 12th 2011:@truefactslol - You have seen the city, yeah? Face facts, nobody did anything about anyone I killed for literally *years*, and nobody was *going* to do anything about them. With the sole exception of Oni Lee, everyone I've killed was given the option to walk away or turn themselves in to the cops. Guess what. Nobody did. If they were so innocent, that's all they had to do.And if I stood back until someone else stopped them, they would've just kept making the city worse and worse.@flyhomeET - Really? Taking over the city? Strongarming law enforcement to look the other way?Nice try. I know exactly who you are, *Rob*. I know that you used to be Empire Eighty-Eight. And I know that you're pissed that I'm cleaning up crime in areas where you and your racist asshole buddies used to reign supreme, so you're talking shit on PHO to try to turn people against me. You just keep your head down and don't do anything stupidly illegal, and I won't be the last thing you see one dark night.Just like I was with Kaiser.
►GreatAndTerribleAisha
(Verified Atropos Fan)Replied On Jan 12th 2011:Wow, I have no idea where you guys come up with this stuff.Heartbreaker's kid, working with Atropos? Atropos, taking over the city? Get real.
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►FoxtrotMikeSierraReplied On Jan 12th 2011:@flyhomeET - We were *already* living in that world. I guess having it happen more-or-less in our backyard instead of in, like, another country, makes it different somehow?(I know, I know, it doesn't really. But taking the post above as stated...)At least when Atropos is doing it, I *don't* feel as depressed?Huh. Atropos'd. Empire, huh? Why am I not surprised?
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me)Replied On Jan 12th 2011:Aww thanks Foxtrot. I will endeavor to make sure I continue to not depress you.
►TangleReplied On Jan 12th 2011:@Nomdiisp - To be fair, all we know from Atropos is that four of Heartbreaker's kids were in Brockton Bay, one dying by her hand, one currently in custody, and all four forever beyond Heartbreaker's reach. Which is even more literally true now than it had been when she made that post.
►WingsOnHigh
(Verified Not the Simurgh)Replied On Jan 12th 2011:@truefactslol - I literally have an old cell phone video of Lung punching a man's head off [Here]Did a little extra digging of my own, and barring the Kill Orders on the S9, most of the Capes that Atropos has killed have been tried in absentia and are guilty of their crimes. If we go back before Cape Politics changed the world, the majority of said crimes would've earned a death penalty. Nowadays anyone with powers gets a little extra slack because of our regularly scheduled natural disasters that are the Endbringers. It's actually a pretty scary trend to see when you look back over the last 60 years of history.As for the drug armies, ehh, depends on the legal state of those warehouses and what the connection is to the people there.A law student friend of mine was actually making a case both in prosecution and defense as a combination of thought experiment and class project and purely from her publicly made exploits and the public evidence available, she actually gets hit worse from the various exploded vehicles and buildings than she does the drug armies and gang bosses.
►BattleLoafReplied On Jan 12th 2011:@truefactslol - What do you mean "we have her word for it"? No, we have actual evidence.Half the people she killed have a list of crimes on public record. A bunch of them *have been tried and convicted of various crimes*, but got busted out. We don't have a full list of the people dead in the latest Exploding Drug Warehouse Incident, but initial reports on the police ID of the dead shows a list of career criminals. Y'know, the kind of people who would sign up for a job that involved the phrase "Sniper nests to guard the drug warehouse."If - *IF* - the cops release a statement about "innocent person, with no convictions and no suspicions, killed by Atropos." Then we'll talk. Until then, you have nothing to say on the matter worth listening to.
►TwoFacedCatReplied On Jan 12th 2011:At the risk of being skewered, I'd like to ask: Atropos, what do you and do you not consider villainous behavior? I mean, I'm assuming somebody has to perform heinous crimes, but... let's say, hypothetically, you have a gang of capes who go around aggressively liberating children from abusive households. The property damage would make them villains, but they kinda fall into the Robin Hood grey area...Actually, are you trying to be like Robin Hood? (Yes, before anybody asks, Robin Hood did kill people in the original mythos. He's got a BACKSTORY.)Also, hypothetically, how would you treat Joe Schmoe CEO who's a problem for the local economy any different from Cape Carrie CEO who's a problem for the local economy? Assuming you could tell the difference which, uh, given Kaiser, I kinda think you can.
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me)Replied On Jan 12th 2011:Ooh, I love this. Actual, legitimate feedback.See, I'd hate it if everyone was too terrified to offer an honest opinion on how I'm doing. I guarantee, I will not come after you for questioning my methods. I'm totes aware that most people aren't one hundred percent on board with the idea of shooting bad guys in the face.Of course, I'm not doing it for you, per se. I'm doing it for the city.But on to the question from @TwoFacedCat:It's a popular misconception that I'm strictly here to murder villains or warn them off from the city. Admittedly, this is a misconception I've kinda fostered, because it's very close to the truth and it works well enough for my purposes.Villains as villains, I don't give an airborne orangutan's turd about. Technically speaking, I'm a villain myself. What I don't want in my city is people whose actions will make it less prosperous and/or less safe for ordinary people to walk the streets. Ninety-nine percent of villains are there to steal stuff, sell drugs, and in general hurt people and gum up the smooth running of society. So, when you do a Venn diagram of "people I don't want in my city" and "the average supervillain", you end up with almost a perfect circle.Capes who aggressively liberate kids from abusive households ... well, that depends. Where are they taking these kids to, and are innocents harmed in the process? Also, there are (incoming irony) actual *legal* routes to take in that case, which I intend to ensure get all the funding they need with the revitalization of the city.I guess what I'm trying to say is this: if they were a detriment to the city, I'd be rather cross with them. On the other hand, if they were doing actual good and helping the kids (in ways they couldn't otherwise be helped) without doing significant damage that also has to be sorted out, then I'd probably give them a pass. It would certainly be a case-by-case basis, just saying.Am I trying to be like Robin Hood? Hah, nope. I'm not in this for Joe and Jane Public, robbing from the rich to give back to the poor. I'm here to fix the goddamn city so it's safe to live in, with a prosperous economy. While yes, this means that Joe and Jane Public get better lives (and stimulus checks, and so forth) that's because this is the way to fix the city. If Joe Public has a steady income and stable lifestyle to the point that he never has to try to (say) hold up a gas station for cash, then it's a win-win for everyone.In short, my aim is to make it possible for the so-called authorities to actually *do their damn jobs* to both the letter and spirit of the law, then make it untenable for them *not* to.Third question, regarding the CEOs. I'd make it known that they're pissing me off and they'd best end that behavior before I end them. What happens then is up to them. I wouldn't give Schmoe a pass for being unpowered, any more than I'd give Carrie a pass for being a cape. (Unless of course, Carrie was also being a problematic supervillain outside her role as a CEO, in which case I might well have shot her in the face already, after a warning).And yeah, I can absolutely tell the difference. Mwahahaha.
►BigTopperReplied On Jan 12th 2011:As for the threatened castration via asshole (and yes, the mere thought still makes me clench up) I have it on good authority from two close friends (a forensic expert and a doctor) that this is, if taken with care, entirely possible.It's also possible *without* care, but only if you're not worried about the prospect of being awarded zero points for technique.
►Underwater_FlowerReplied On Jan 12th 2011:Goddamn it, I'd almost managed to forget that mental image. Thanks a bunch.
►BigTopperReplied On Jan 12th 2011:Hahahahahahahahaha
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<><>
TaylorCherie was in a good mood at the breakfast table the next morning, which wasn't surprising. Even Dad seemed to notice that she was standing taller, laughing more easily and was just overall in a better place. While there was still pain visible deep in her eyes, it was a lot less obvious to me than it had been, even yesterday."It really affected you that much, did it?" Danny raised an eyebrow as he handed a plate of eggs and bacon over to her.We had, of course, filled him in on the details of Heartbreaker's not-so-unfortunate demise, then let him watch the footage before I edited it for public consumption. He'd blanched a little at the castration threat I'd made to Heartbreaker, but not as much as I'd thought he might. While he still wasn't
totally
okay with me casually murdering bad guys to get my results, he could definitely see the point in what I was doing. The (still declining) crime rate didn't hurt there, as far as I could tell."Yeah. Thank you." She accepted the plate, then set about cutting up the bacon. "While I was growing up, every day I was near him, he loaded shit into my head with his powers. Whether this was him trying to trigger my powers or make me think like him, or some ungodly combination, I have no idea."I nodded and put a hand on her arm. Since getting my powers, I'd become more of a hardass, but I could still feel sympathy, and Cherie had been through more shit than anyone really deserved. "From the sounds of it, I'm gonna say 'all of the above'. He was enough of a narcissistic douche to want all his kids to be malignant little clones of him.""You are so totally not wrong there." She shook her head, looking down at her plate. "I thought I'd beaten him. When I ran, when I got away, I thought I was free of his influence. But I'd just been living with it for so long that it was part of me." Lifting her head, she looked at me and then Dad. "People were
things
to me, to be used and discarded. I was going to join the goddamn
Nine
if I could, just so he'd never be able to drag me back." The anguish in her voice was matched by the tears running down her cheeks.Dad blinked, looking a little shocked. "You had to have known that they wouldn't just let you stay with them for protection. They would've made you earn your keep.""Yeah. I knew that." Her hands clenched around the knife and fork, until her knuckles turned white. If anything, the self-disgust in her tone intensified. "And I was
totally okay
with that. Eighteen years of his attitudes being poured into my head? I would've made toddlers fight to the death with switchblades and not even cared, just so long as I didn't have to go back.""And you don't feel that way anymore?" His tone was gentle.This time, when she shook her head, it was with long, slow sweeps from side to side. "Nope. I'm still not totally sure how Taylor did it, but it's like I had a bandage on a wound that wouldn't heal because the infection was in the bandage, and it was loaded up with all this crud and spite, and she just … ripped the bandage off. I'm still not healed, but now I can try to be better. And I can actually see the good in the world without wanting to tear it all down for shits and giggles.""Well, that's a good start." Giving her a smile, I squeezed her shoulder, then applied myself to my own breakfast. "Still okay with helping me murder villains to make Brockton Bay a better place?""I guess so." Her tone was introspective. "Before, I was doing it because you terrified me, and murder didn't bother me. Now, I can see past the murder and appreciate the good you're trying to achieve. You're doing the same with Brockton Bay like you made my asshole father do with me; ripping all the corruption away, so the rest of it gets to heal and grow.""Well, that's definitely
one
way to put it." Dad sprinkled a little pepper on his eggs. "We're having the first proper meeting of the committee this afternoon, so we can look over the revitalisation plan and start preliminary allocation of funds." He grinned at me. "It might not be as satisfying as shooting a bad guy in the head, but it also gets things done."I smirked right back. "Who do you think put the idea into Mayor Christner's head of bringing you onto the committee in the first place? I wanted someone in that room who I trust implicitly, to reduce the number of midnight visits I might have to make.""Well, damn." He blinked a couple of times. "Okay, now it all makes sense. Son of a
bitch." Shaking his head, he stared at me. "Are we
all
pawns on your chessboard?""Not pawns, no." I raised my eyebrows. "You're my
dad.
If anyone becomes a threat to you for this or any other reason, I
will
shoot them in the face. Yes, you're helping me carry out my plans. But be honest: if you'd been offered this without my interference, would you have accepted anyway?"He shrugged. "Well, given that I didn't know you'd put a word in Christner's ear, yeah. I would have." Pausing, he looked at me suspiciously. "What would you have done if I didn't?"I pretended to think about that. "Threatened Christner a bit more to keep him in line, I guess." My power had told me that Dad was the best man for the job, and how to get him on board to help End the downward spiral the city was in. I'd gone with it, but he didn't really need to know how much I'd been manipulating him. So long as he thought it was his idea to accept, and was happy in his role, it was all good.He nodded. "Yeah, that tracks. Well, I'll do the best I can.""Thanks, Dad." I refused to feel guilty about it. He was my dad, and I loved him dearly, but I
also
needed to get Brockton Bay back on track.
<><>
Cherie"So," Taylor said as they got off the bus in front of Winslow. "How do you feel about your first day of actual, official school?""Still not convinced it won't be a total waste of time and effort." Cherie rolled her eyes. "I was doing okay up until now.""Nah." Taylor shook her head with a grin. "You were getting by. Making do. Leaning on your powers. When you're not in a position to do that anymore, that's when you need an actual education to fall back on. Why do you think
I'm
still going, when I've got my powers?""I had actually wondered," Cherie admitted. "Couldn't you just End your need to show up at school?""I could." Taylor shaded her eyes and looked up at the frontage of Winslow with a less-than-thrilled expression. "I've got far more bad memories in there than good. And I
might
be able to skate by ninety percent of the time, with my power filling in the gaps. It's the other ten percent where I'll come unstuck, where I won't know what I don't know. I'd rather not try to depend on something that's designed to kill stuff for giving me advice on how to live my life. Actual knowledge is probably the smarter bet." She shrugged. "And anyway, like I said, it's a lot nicer there than it used to be.""Right." Cherie followed along, mulling over Taylor's words. They made more sense than they would have even yesterday. Absent the insidious, invidious influence of her father, she was now actually able to contemplate living among non-capes without using her power to manipulate every aspect of their lives in her favour.Not Taylor or her dad, of course. That had never been on the table. She'd known damn well that even the
intent
to do so would get her horribly murdered.But if Taylor had cut her loose to leave Brockton Bay and travel on instead of taunting Heartbreaker into coming to the city, it would've been a different matter. The moment she was out of Atropos' sphere of influence, she would've gone straight back to using her powers to get what she wanted, when she wanted. Her goal, as it was when she left Montreal in the beginning, would have been to find a powerful villain gang and become one of them, doing whatever it took to secure her membership.While she'd been
trying
to learn how to be better—from sheer self-preservation, if nothing else—she'd still been the same horrible person her father had warped her into, deep down. Without the threat of Atropos to keep those impulses at bay, they would've come to the surface again, empowered by the deep dark whispers in her soul. But now the whispers were gone, as were the impulses. And she was still horribly shocked, whenever she thought about it, at just how much her father's influence had been driving her behaviour.Who she was
now,
she wasn't entirely certain. Too much of her personality had been overlaid by the toxic sludge of Heartbreaker's power influence, and was now doing the equivalent of blinking in the light and looking around in confusion. But she was willing to try and find out. Without, as Taylor was strongly hinting, leaning on her powers to make things easier.They climbed the front steps and pushed through the doors into the school proper. It was warmer in here, their breath no longer visible, so they shrugged out of their coats. Taylor pointed farther into the school. "The email about your remedial classes said to come to the office first off.""I can still come to your classes and pick it up as I go along." It wasn't really a serious effort, but she figured she had to try.Taylor chuckled, apparently taking it in the vein it had been intended. "The last time you opened my math textbook, you went cross-eyed. That's not something you can just pick up on the way.""Well, it's not
my
fault they made it impossible to understand," Cherie argued, but she headed toward the office with Taylor anyway. "Are you sure that whole chapter wasn't some kind of practical joke?""Cherie, that was
trigonometry.
Trig is
easy
compared to other stuff you're going to have to learn, like quadratics.""You just made that word up.""You know I didn't."Cherie blew a raspberry. "Worst boss ever.""No, I'm not."She couldn't actually argue with that.
<><>
Taylor"Hi," said the young woman brightly, standing up as we entered the front office. I vaguely recognised her as one of the teachers' aides. "I'm Miss Parrish. Which of you is Cherie Reynaud?""That's, uh, that's me," Cherie said. "Taylor here was just making sure I got to the office okay."What I heard, and Miss Parrish didn't, was what Cherie didn't say.
And didn't go hide out for the rest of the day.
It was kind of true, though I didn't really think she would go against my wishes so blatantly. I suspected she wanted me along so she could tell herself that she was being forced into this against her will, and thus satisfy her pride.Even without Heartbreaker's influence informing her every move, she was still a surprisingly complex individual."Hi," I offered, with a brief wave. "I've got to get to home room now. See you at lunch, Cherie.""Uh, see you then." She gave me a brief dirty look, along the lines of 'how dare you abandon me like this', then turned her attention back to Miss Parrish. "So, what happens now?""Well,
now," said Miss Parrish as I opened the door to leave, "I'll be putting you through testing to see where you place academically in the various subjects …"Grinning, I went to class.
<><>
That AfternoonCherieTaylor was waiting on the front steps of the school as Cherie straggled out. "Hi," she said cheerfully, standing up. "Testing all finished?""I think so." Cherie fell in step with her as they descended to ground level. She tried not to grumble, but it was very difficult. "I don't think I passed a single one. How do you even
learn
all that stuff?""Attend school on a weekly basis over the course of ten years or so," Taylor said blandly. "You're coming at it from
way
behind the eight-ball, so yeah, it's gonna be a struggle to catch up. But don't worry. You're smarter than a five-year-old, and you already know how to read and do basic math, so you'll be able to understand a lot more. It just won't be enjoyable."Cherie had absolutely no doubt about
that.
"And I've got to do this, no matter what?""Hey." Taylor spread her hands. "I'm working to make Brockton Bay into a better city. We need to provide a good example to all the impressionable young minds out there. If they attend school, they'll have much better prospects than if they don't. More options.""And here, I thought you were the
cool
supervillain."Taylor chuckled. "Depends on the definition of 'cool'. Like where we're going next. Some people might call it cool, and others might call it lame.""Where's that?""Well, you might get to play some video games. What do you say?"Cherie brightened right up. It had been a long time since she'd had the chance to play video games. "Well, why didn't you say so at first?"Taylor just grinned.
<><>
The Lair of Uber and LeetUberBrendan was on the gaming couch, working on wrecking the day of a snot-nosed little brat from Seattle or wherever, when Leet dropped onto the cushions beside him. "Ugh. Wow. That really took it out of me.""It's done?" Brendan didn't look around."Yeah." Leet fished out his phone. "Weirdest fuckin' thing, though. I got it done about an hour ago, then I figured I'd put my head down for a nap. Woke up five minutes ago, and I just found out that
while I was asleep,
I typed up a complete user manual for it, and printed it out."That was definitely weird enough for Brendan to give his buddy a brief stare. "What the hell? The closest you've ever come to a user manual is a scrawled note to not press the blue button at over five thousand RPM.""I know, right?" Leet woke up his phone. "Anyway, it passed all the self-tests, so Imma contact Atropos and let her know she can come pick it up."There was a
beep
from the console; when Brendan looked back at the screen, it had gone from single to two-player. As he watched, the new player sniped the opposition player from right across the play area. Slowly, he turned, following the trailing cord up and over the back of the couch. Atropos stood there, controller in hand, with a masked teenage girl beside her."Dude?" Without taking his eyes off Atropos, he nudged Leet's shoulder."What?" With his eyes on his phone, Leet hadn't noticed the new player on the screen. "Gimme a sec. Just gotta finish this text."Brendan sighed. "Don't bother. She's already here.""What? What do you ..." Leet raised his eyes from his phone, then followed Brendan's line of sight up and around to where Atropos gave him a little finger-wave. "Gah! How did—how long have—don't
do
that!""And hello to you too." Atropos didn't quite snicker, but she was definitely amused. "Guys, this is Cherish. Cherish, meet Uber and Leet. I'll leave it up to you to decide whether they're cool or not.""Hi." Cherish was wearing a basic red domino mask that matched the red streak in her hair. "I thought Leet was supposed to be a Tinker. Where's all the gadgets?""We moved them all out," Leet said defensively. "Soon as we're done here, we're packing up the last of the gear and disappearing over the horizon. Leaving Brockton Bay.""I did say it's not totally necessary." Atropos only sounded mildly censorious, as though she didn't care either way.Brendan nodded. "We talked about staying on as purely show-villains, but Leet's tech has been known to fail in unexpected ways, and the last thing we want is for something to explode and hurt an innocent when we're pulling off a joke heist. So we figure it's best we just go somewhere else.""Understood." Atropos handed over the controller to Cherish. "You two want to play a couple of rounds while Leet shows me what he's got for me?"From the way Cherish grinned, she'd been jonesing for some console time. "Sure ... uh, if it's okay with you?" Almost as an afterthought, she looked over at Brendan."Hey, why the hell not. Sit yourself down." As Leet got up, Brendan moved over to give Cherish some room. "Want to restart, or keep playing?"She sat down, eyes on the screen. "I'm good to keep playing if you are."He grinned. "Cool."Whatever else Atropos had going on, at least she brought over interesting people.
<><>
Leet"Okay, this is it. It should slide onto your left forearm and lock into place." Rodney stepped aside so Atropos could lift the sleek black device he'd built off the stand and slip her arm inside. It fitted like it was made for her—which it had been—and locked into place as advertised."Nice," she said, hefting it experimentally. "Not too heavy. You got it done pretty quickly too, including the user manual. I'm impressed." Taking up the manual, she leafed through it. "Okay, now I'm even more impressed. No complicated maintenance required at all?""Yeah, it's all solid state. Minimal moving parts." Rodney shook his head. "It was really weird building it, though. Stuff that I normally breeze through when I'm building my tech, I had to really go all-in on. But not in a 'this is difficult' way so much as a 'you better not fuck this up' way. And other stuff that I usually have trouble with, like the power supply, I sailed through. Like it really,
really
wanted to get built.""Well, just so long as it works, I'm happy." Atropos went back to paging through the manual, apparently impressed by its completeness.If she was impressed, Rodney was downright astonished. As Uber had noted, this was the first user manual he'd ever come up with, and he'd done it while he was asleep, to boot."Any questions?" he finally ventured."A couple." She tapped the upper panel in just the right spot and it swung open to give access to the tiny screen and keyboard. "I either type in latitude and longitude or specific distance and direction from me, or I use the laser?""Yeah." He stepped in beside her and pointed. "If you're in a hurry, you activate the laser and aim. When the dot is where you want it to be, you hit the go-there button. That only works with instant translation.""Nice." She closed the panel and nodded. "And what's the difference between instant and step-through?"He cleared his throat carefully. "Instant just puts you on the spot, with anything that's eight inches or less from your skin, and assumes where you're going is motionless, but you can do one about every ten seconds. Step-through lines up your movement with wherever you're going and lets you bring more stuff, or a person, but the cooldown period is one minute
minimum, counting upward depending on how complex the last jump was.""Understood." Shifting the manual to her left hand, she offered her right to shake. "Thanks. I appreciate it.""Ahh, it was fun." Rodney grinned as he shook her hand. "And besides, how many people can say they built your tech?""Very true. I wish you luck wherever you go." Turning, she opened the workshop door. Across the room, in the gaming area, sounds of electronic combat indicated that Uber and Cherish seemed to be getting along well."Thanks." Rodney crossed the room with her, to see the pair laying waste to the opposition. Uber was the better player, but Cherish was gamely hanging on in there, seeming to instinctively know when he needed support.Beside him, Atropos cleared her throat. "Wrap it up. Time to go.""Aww." But Cherish didn't press the matter. She fired a few more shots, dispatching the last of the current crop of enemy forces, then put the controller down. "Okay, done. Thanks, that was fun."Uber turned and bumped fists with her. "Likewise. You're pretty good at this."Grinning all over her face, she bounced up from the couch. "I've made up my mind. This was definitely cool.""Good to hear." Atropos popped up the panel on the device and tapped in a series of numbers so fast her fingers appeared to blur over the keys. When she hit the final button, the device hummed and a smoky grey portal, about seven feet tall and shaped like an arch-topped doorway, formed in front of her.Cherish stared at it. "What the hell is that?""Our way home." Taking her by the arm, Atropos stepped forward into the portal. They both vanished, as did the portal, a second or so later.Uber turned to Rodney. "That's what you were building for her? A teleporter that lets her step out of nowhere?""Well ... yes." Rodney shrugged. "That's what she asked for.""You realise you just gave her the option to be ten times as terrifying, right?" Uber gave him a level stare.Rodney held up his finger. "To everyone
else,
bro. You and me, we're out of here. Remember?"Slowly, Uber nodded. "Good point. Very good point. Let's finish this game, then get everything packed up. The sooner we're out of here, the better."Rodney grinned. "Leaving town before everyone finds out just who gave her that teleporter, you mean?""Damn straight."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
TaylorWithout even a stumble, we stepped through into the living room of our house. I let go of Cherie and looked around to see the portal dissipating behind us. On my forearm, the teleport device beeped and showed a timer:
3:32. As I watched, it began counting down."Wait, what the
fuck?" Cherie turned in a circle, as though unable to take in the fact of where we were. "How did we get back here?"I flipped the panel closed, then took off my hat and mask so I could grin at her. "We walked, duh.""But how ...?" She took a deep breath and seemed to be trying to steady herself. "Teleport, right? Something Leet made?""Yeah. It doesn't even get in the way of my left hand. Pretty cool, huh?" Tossing the hat, mask and manual onto the couch, I wiggled my gloved fingers to demonstrate, then unlocked it from around my arm and put it on the couch as well. The coat came off next, leaving me looking—in the vest and tie, along with the gunbelt and knife bandolier—like the world's youngest and most well-armed maître d'."Isn't Leet's tech supposed to be horribly dangerous?" She threw up her hands. "Uber even
said
as much!""Usually, yes," I conceded. "But I'm pretty sure
my
power had a word with
his
power, so this specific device isn't nearly as likely to have problems."She shook her head. "Wait,
what? Powers don't
talk
to each other. That's impossible!" There was a momentary pause as she stared at me. "… isn't it?"I shrugged. "I communicate with my power all the time, so is it all that unbelievable for powers to talk to each other?"I could
see
her wanting to say yes, but then doubt crept into her eyes. She'd been a cape for
years
while I was still only in my second week, but I'd already done a crapload of stuff that she would've called out as blatantly impossible. "When you confronted Guillaume and Nicholas," she ventured. "Nicholas tried to make you feel fear, but you said that stuff about being fear, being death, and being Ending in that really creepy voice. Was … was that you, or your power?"I thought for a moment. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure that was my power. The fear was affecting me, but my power wasn't letting it stop me from doing what I'd already decided I wanted to do. It doesn't actually talk out loud all that much, but it's a total ham when it does."She let out a startled giggle at that, as though she hadn't expected me to refer to my power in that way. "Does it tell you to … well, do things you don't want to?""Nah." I grinned at her. "Like I said, we communicate. I get ideas for cleaning up the city, it suggests ways that might happen, I throw in ideas, and we kick it back and forth until we've hashed out all the details. But while it can't
make
me do anything I don't want to, it
can
let me be a kickass action movie hero. Honestly, it's a ton of fun. And if bad guys die in the process … well, my power
is
about Ending things, so that's where its strengths lie. To be honest, once I've given them fair warning, it's really out of my hands. They
know
who I am, and how this is going to turn out. If they're
deliberately choosing
a path that will harm my city, and they ignore my warnings, they've chosen to die. It's as simple as that.""What about Damsel of Distress? You let her go home again." She spread her hands. "In fact, you had me pushing her hard to choose to go home, and she really, really wanted to lash out at you.""Three reasons." I ticked them off on my fingers. "First, she'd only gotten one warning. Sometimes the second warning turns them around. Second, calling in Edict and Licit and letting her go home gave me a boost with the PRT, and gave them an excuse to keep treating me with kid gloves. Third, it encouraged your father to come here when he saw she'd survived the experience. He was going to show up
eventually, so I decided last night was good enough.""What about the boat tonight?" I must have frowned or shown some emotional cue, because she continued. "I mean, I know you're going to blow it up. But you've only given them one warning … right?""That specific boat, yeah," I agreed, then held up a finger. "But I
already
put a blanket prohibition on smuggling drugs or guns into the city. They've got both. Also, I smacked Gesellschaft on the nose the other night, and told them to stop it with that shit. I even said that if they try to bring capes in to start trouble with me, those capes will get murdered to hell and gone. So … guess what?"It wasn't like she had to think very hard about it. "They're sending capes?"I grinned tightly. "Bingo."
<><>
Several Hours LaterTwo Miles Offshore, on the
Fancy SueIt was so quiet on the repurposed fishing boat that Rob Kendall could hear the gentle waves slapping against the hull as they slid through the water. The engine had been rebuilt for silence, with a muffler that let out the exhaust fumes underwater, so even at high speed (such as it was) the engine would still be quieter than the hissing of water in the bow wave. Everyone was equipped with earpieces and radios so there would be no shouting to carry across the still water.He was armed with a suppressed MP-5, as were the other members of the guard contingent. No seaman, he had just one job: if anyone (especially, but not limited to, Atropos) attempted to interfere with getting their cargo ashore, he was to ensure that as many bullets as possible found their way to the opposition.Up until now, Brockton Bay had been both a lucrative destination and an active hub for the distribution of both drugs and high-end weaponry. Despite the official dissolution of the Empire Eighty-Eight and the violent destruction of their stocks already in the city, the Gesellschaft was determined to reopen that rich seam of profit. And so, the
Fancy Sue
had set out to sea on an innocent-seeming cruise, only to rendezvous well out of sight of land with a freighter that 'just happened' to be passing by. Parcels of drugs and crates of weaponry had been lowered to the
Fancy Sue's deck and stowed below in short order, then the two vessels had parted ways as though they'd never been near one another.He'd been nervous at the beginning of the journey, but now it seemed they were on the home stretch. No Coast Guard boats hove into view with flashing lights and wailing sirens, no curious capes swooped down from above to investigate the blacked-out craft. Still, he knew damn well that it was never over until it was actually over, so he refused to relax. He didn't like spending any time in the wheelhouse with the two creepy capes looking over the helmsman's shoulder every second of the trip, so he opted to head down to the stern, just in case something (or someone) tried to sneak up on them from behind.While he was there, he briefly debated having a smoke, but it was a bad idea all around. On deck, the cherry of a cigarette would be visible for literally miles, and given what was belowdecks, nobody was allowed to smoke there. In fact, no open flames at all were permitted.As they were steaming in toward the coast and the half-moon was low in the western sky, he found himself in a near pitch-black shadow cast back over the stern by the superstructure. Leaning on the aft rail, he stared pensively out at the trail of their churned wake, the occasional bubble of acrid exhaust making its way to his nostrils. Without any lights to act as a guide, he couldn't even see the horizon, much less anything trying to stealth up behind them.Finally, as sure as he could be that they were safe from that direction, he straightened up from the rail and turned … only to come face to face with a silhouette out of nightmare. As dark as the shadows were, she was darker, his night-adapted eyes easily picking out the hat and the long-coat from the surrounding gloom. The white shirt and the grey vest may well have been glaring flashlights to his vision."I told you to keep your head down, Rob," Atropos murmured, and starlight glinted on a wickedly sharp blade: her fabled shears. One slash opened his throat, stilling his shout before it properly began, and the other severed the tendons in his wrist so that his finger couldn't close on the trigger of his MP-5. Almost tenderly, she lowered him to the ground so that he wouldn't make a clatter and raise the alarm.He died in a pool of his own blood, dimming eyes looking up at the stars.
<><>
TaylorI had four minutes before the teleporter would allow another jump. That was fine; I had things to do between now and then. Easing from one shadow to another, moving in a silent ballet to avoid the notice of the guards, I cracked the hatchway and made my entrance into the boat proper.There were two guards at the bottom of the stairway, of course, but they'd been lulled by the utter lack of anything happening to the point that they were half a second slow in bringing up their guns. I shot them both before they had time to so much as register my presence, and they slumped to the ground. Fortunately, the noise thus made wasn't
quite
loud enough to raise the alarm.This wasn't to say that it went unheard. The Dockworkers' two-way radio I'd repurposed for this outing buzzed in my ear. "What was that? The noise below.""My bad," I replied in what I knew to be mimicry of the heavier-set man to the left. "I got a leg cramp and tripped. Can I come up and get some fresh air?" To ensure a negative reply, I introduced a little bit of a whine to my mimicry of his voice."No."
The response was curt and to the point.
"Remain on post. Be more careful.""Okay," I said, adding a tinge of resentfulness, but not enough to invite retribution for insubordination. "I'll stay where I am."I stepped past him and his luckless comrade, and opened the door into the hold. Toward the front, or the bow (I figured) was the drugs in big plastic-wrapped packages. On either side of the door were crates of weapons; not the ones that anyone could buy legally in the United States, but fully-auto rifles and machine pistols, as well as grenades and other goodies.If I'd been inclined to wonder where that AT-4 and its friends had come from, I would've been wondering no longer. But I had no time to waste on 'eureka' moments; levering open a crate of grenades, I started lifting them out of their packing to lie loose on the deck. With their pins still in, they were technically harmless, as was the ammunition that I also took out of its storage to roam free with the grenades. One last grenade I sequestered for my own purposes, tucking it into one of the many pockets boasted by the long-coat.On the way out of the hold, I moved one of the dead men so his boot propped the door open, then I stealthed back up the stairs. The quiet part of the mission was almost over; in a very short time, I would go loud.All this was according to the plan. While I
could
murder everyone on board and sink the boat without a single person knowing about it, that wasn't what I wanted. If nobody knew about it, then nobody could learn
not to do it.Leaving the hatch partway open, I leaped upward, grabbed a handhold, and scrambled on top of the cabin roof. There was a guard up here, but he ceased to be an issue when I shot him under the jaw, spraying the extremely recent contents of his skull into the night sky. Suppressed or not, the shot and the subsequent thud of his body was loud enough to get attention … which was exactly what I wanted."Stranger at the stern!" I hissed over the radio network, in the voice of the man I'd just shot. It took a few seconds for them to react, then Night started working her way down the left-hand side of the boat, while Fog went down the right.Going to the right, I shot the men behind Fog, then swung down and kicked him solidly in the side of the head as he began to turn. He collapsed to the deck, still alive, but out for the moment. I didn't want him dead right at that second, but I did want the phone in his pocket.As I clambered back on top of the cabin with my prize, I heard scrabbling at the stern as the now-monstrous Night discovered my first victim. I went straight back over the top and dropped down next to the hatch that led into the hold. Another crewmember showed his face behind me and I shot him without looking around. "Hey!" I shouted. "Bitch-features! Come and get it!"A smoke grenade, already spewing grey-black fumes, clattered along the deck toward me. I would be engulfed in seconds, allowing Night to wreak her own personal specialty of havoc on me. Or rather, I would've been, if I hadn't shot the casing just right so it flew over the side and into the ocean. The second one, I shot out of the air and it vanished into the wake.Her next ploy was to rush me, holding her hooded cloak up in front like a shield. It was festooned with hooks on the side facing me, so that she could wrap it around me with her spiky forearms and then stab me repeatedly through it. The tactic was rough on cloaks, but she could probably afford them. And of course, the idea was that I couldn't see her through the cloak so even if I shot her through it, she would still be an extremely durable monster.I pulled out the shotgun and blew a chunk out of the cloak, right where she was holding it. It fell away, and
then
I could see her. She stopped, suddenly aware that she had made a grave error in tactics. I didn't allow her to regroup, closing the distance and spinning her around to smack her face-first into the wall of the cabin beside us.Her hand had survived the shotgun blast, mainly because she'd changed form
after
I shot the claw away, so I grabbed it and slapped it against the weather-stained wood. Then I jammed my shears through it and into the cabin wall, pinning it there like a bug on a corkboard.
That
was when she screamed.Another one of my pockets held a black bag, which I pulled out and flipped over her head. No matter how she struggled, she couldn't pull free, and her pinned hand ensured that I could always see her. "Sucks, doesn't it?" I asked rhetorically. "Can't see your opponent. About to die. But I warned you."Pulling one of the blades from the bandolier, I stabbed her in every vital spot I could easily reach, and there were a few of those. Kidneys, heart, carotid arteries and jugular vein. I finished by jamming the blade into her eyesocket through the bag, hard enough to reach her brain.As she sagged in my arms, dying, I looked up and smiled. Fog was up again, and he'd heard Night's screaming, then her death-gurgles. Whatever he felt for her, whether the affection he showed her was genuine or a byproduct of the artificial personalities that had been installed in them by Gesellschaft's torture chambers, it didn't matter. He was coming for revenge, and everything in his way was going to die.Or such was probably his intent.I had other ideas.As his acidic fog form loomed up over the top of the cabin, homing in on the noise I was deliberately making, I pulled the shears out, allowing Night to flop to the deck. She was already dead, beyond the reach of her power to revive her with a Change; I'd made sure of that. With the shears hanging off my pinky finger, I flipped up the panel and hit 'go' on the next set of stored coordinates. The portal formed behind me, and I pulled out the grenade I'd saved.As Fog poured down onto the deck, I leaped backward over the rail; at the same time, I tossed the grenade into the open hatch, minus its pin. Passing through the portal, I landed on a little-used dock, a few miles north of Brockton Bay. Shouts of alarm sounded around me as I rolled to my feet with my pistol in one hand and bloodstained shears in the other.
<><>
FogGeoff was too busy focusing on the fact that Dorothy was down and Atropos had somehow vanished into nothingness to think about how the killer had thrown something through the hatch. He had no way of knowing that the unknown object, in bouncing down the stairs, had cleared the legs of the dead men at the bottom and was now rolling around on the floor of the hold. It wouldn't really have mattered either way, in
three
…… two …He crouched over Dorothy, searching for signs of life. There were none.…
one
…The close-range detonation caught him by surprise, blasting him into pink mist.
<><>
Taylor"You know who I am. You know who I've killed. Don't be idiots." They were almost convinced. I just needed one more piece of showmanship.As I strode forward, inevitability and lethality implicit in every step, my long-coat flared sideways in the freshening breeze. I timed my steps to a nicety; on the third such step, as my heel hit the wood, the boat went up behind me in a towering explosion of flame. Smoothly and implacably, I brought the pistol up to point at the guy I knew was in charge of this bunch of assholes.I didn't speak again; I didn't have to.As the sound of the explosion rolled in over us, he slowly lowered his gun and put it on the ground, then knelt down and laced his fingers behind his head. One by one, his cohorts did the same, glancing fearfully from me to the burning, sinking hulk in the distance. Every time I looked in their direction, they cringed away.I'd been as good as my word, earlier, and passed on word to the Coasties and the PRT about where to find the bad guys. Of course, I'd only sent the text about ten seconds before I teleported on board the smuggling vessel, but that wasn't really my problem.As I stood there silently menacing them, I could hear the sirens just beginning to echo over the water as the boats sliced in toward the
extremely obvious
location of the now-defunct
Fancy Sue.
It wouldn't be too much longer before the capes and PRT found their way to where I was, and I'd be able to "softly and silently vanish away" (thanks, Mom) in my turn.All of this would of course go toward building my personal legend among the denizens of the Brockton Bay underworld, but that was the general idea. The more they saw me as someone they
wouldn't
see coming and
couldn't
beat, the more likely they'd seek lawful employment, and the less need there would be for me to kill any of them for doing something stupid and avoidable. Thus giving me more time to kill the ones who needed killing.I holstered the pistol; none of the men so much as twitched. Then I pulled out a cloth and carefully polished Night's blood off the blades of the shears, before sheathing them. Still not a movement.Finally, I took out the phone I'd stolen from Fog, and woke it up. It required an eight-digit PIN which (not altogether surprisingly) did
not
hold any reference to Nazism within it. There were several numbers in the directory, none labelled; I tapped the third one down, then hit the Call icon.It rang several times, then a groggy voice answered in fluent and colloquial German, asking Fog why the
fuck
he was calling at this ungodly hour. "Hi," I responded brightly, in the same language. "This is Atropos. You've probably heard my name before. Night and Fog are dead, as are the entire crew of the boat that was transporting your poison to Brockton Bay. Now, listen very carefully. If you send one more cape, transport one more ounce of illegal drugs, or smuggle one more
bullet
into my city, I will kill you in your sleep. You have been warned."I didn't bother asking him if he understood; men like that never responded favourably to such questions. He would argue and deflect and never acknowledge the ultimatum. It didn't matter. I'd told him, and if he pulled that shit again, the top tier of Gesellschaft would be down one asshole. Rinse and repeat. Sooner or later, I'd either train them to keep their bullshit out of my city, or there wouldn't be a Gesellschaft anymore. Either outcome was fine to me.I tapped the button to access the last set of stored coordinates and flipped the panel down, just before Velocity blurred into sight. His head flicked around to all the kneeling bad guys, then he saw me and raced in my direction. He
probably
didn't want to fight me, but I didn't care. Tossing the phone in the air so he could catch it, I stepped backward through the portal. The last thing I saw of him was holding his hand out, his mouth forming the word, "Wait—"The portal dissipated and I was standing in the living room, with Dad and Cherie watching me with interest from the sofa. "Well?" asked Cherie.I shrugged as I took off the hat and mask. "It was right where my power said it would be. With that information, they'll be able to board the freighter and find enough evidence to take it out of commission for its part in the smuggling. Night and Fog were on board, like I thought they would be. They're dead now.""Damn." From the way he shook his head, Dad knew how big that was. "You're really yanking Gesellschaft's tail on this one, aren't you?"I chuckled as I headed for the kitchen. "Oh, you haven't heard the half of it. Is there any dessert left? I feel like having seconds. Shooting Nazis is hungry work.""Only if you wash up the dish after," Dad called after me.I rolled my eyes, even though he couldn't see me from there. "Slave driver.""That's slave driver
dad
to you."I grinned as I hunted up a bowl and a spoon, while Cherie giggled at our banter. Fixing Brockton Bay was all well and good, but it was always nice to come home again.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N 1: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
Relevant side story.
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♦ Topic: Nacht und Nebel No MoreIn: Boards ► Brockton Bay ► New Capes ► AtroposAtropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me)Posted On Jan 13th 2011:Goooood morning Brockton Bay!It's great to talk to you all again. Time for the latest update on my activities. Posting again just after midnight because traditions are fun!So, you know how I told Gesellschaft to not send any more drugs or weapons into Brockton Bay?Guess what happened last night.If your guess is anything like 'they tried to send drugs and weapons into Brockton Bay', then congratulations: you possess pattern recognition!Operative word: "tried". The boat didn't make it to within half a mile of shore, at least in one piece. They thought they were playing hardball, too; two capes were on board. You may have even heard of them: Night and Fog.Remember how I said 'no more villains in my city'? They tried to come back to my city. As the saying goes, "That's a paddlin'." For an extremely broad definition of the word.Anyway, I blinded Night so she couldn't see a thing, then I stabbed her with a pointy blade lots and lots of times. This was after some totally inconsiderate person (spoilers: me) arranged for a bunch of grenades to be lying loose in the hold instead of safe in their crates, along with other bits of high explosive. So when I tossed a grenade down there while executing my exit strategy, Fog was caught in the blast and turned into pink mist. Most of him, anyway. Top half, definitely. They're going to have to ID him by his toenail clippings or something.In other words, I stabbified the person who could turn into a stabby monster, and I turned Fog into mist. Only, the type he can't turn back from.I'm pretty sure a lot of you would've heard the explosion.And as those who know me well enough will have figured out by now, I've informed the individual responsible for sending those idiots to their deaths (including Rob. Yes, *that* Rob, Mr flyhomeET himself) that if he tries this one more time ... well, let's just say he won't be capable of trying it a third time.Because, you know, I'll kill him.What's that you say? Being a key member of Gesellschaft means that he probably thinks he's safe from my retribution, in Germany? Specifically, in his estate in Stuttgart Sud?Mwahahaha.In other news, the Committee for the Betterment of Brockton Bay (nice alliteration there, guys) met for the first time yesterday afternoon, being in possession for the plan to fix the city and the funds to do so. There was a little jockeying for position and a few attempts to slow things down "to really examine the issues", but Committee head Danny Hebert kept everything on track and moved forward with the agenda. The first drug rehab clinics will be opening across the city as early as this afternoon, and more will be getting placed as the need arises. Also, the stimulus payments will be starting on Monday, giving everyone in Brockton Bay who's living below, on and just above the poverty line a much-needed boost.Impressively enough, nobody tried to blatantly redirect any funds to their own personal agendas, though two people did think strongly about it. Shame on you, Ms T and Mr K. I *am* watching.I look forward to more good work from the Committee. In the meantime, have a lovely villain-free day. (You're welcome).Oh, and later today? I'm going to start fulfilling my end of a deal I made with a particular hero. Who, you may ask? What hero would possibly have made a deal with me? And for what?You'll find out soon ... and with any luck, the wait will have been worth it.Toodles!(Showing page 1 of 17)
►Bagrat
(Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)Replied On Jan 13th 2011:Okay, just going to say, wow.Also, holy shit.There was definitely a boat out there last night. The PRT is withholding the name of the boat and its owner at the moment, but it looks like some remnants of the Empire Eighty-Eight took it out under the guise of doing some night fishing. While they were out there, they met up with a ship (which has since been tracked down) and transferred a crap-ton of drugs and weapons on board. (Enough traces of both were found after the fact to verify that beyond a doubt.)*Somehow*, Atropos knew exactly where the boat was, despite the fact that it was running dark, and got on board. And yes, she blew it up. Several bodies have been recovered, including one woman, who has been tentatively ID'd as Dorothy Schmidt, AKA Night. And yes, cause of death appears to be 'got stabbed a whole lot'. Also, she has a stab wound through one hand, that would appear to match a certain pair of horribly sharp shears. (Just going to say: being stabbed to death then blown over the side did her no favours whatsoever. Atropos is in fine form.)The bottom half of a recovered body has been (via Atropos' description) tentatively ID'd as Geoff Schmidt, AKA Fog. An international request has been made for Mr Schmidt's birth details, in the hope that the hospital took a footprint at birth. Short of DNA testing, that's about the only way anyone's going to know for certain. (Okay, we all know it's him, but we don't 'know'. Thus, the whole 'jumping through hoops' thing.)Note that she *also* appeared on the dock where the goods were about to be received, seconds *before* the boat exploded, and held the men there in attitudes of surrender until the Protectorate showed up. So yeah, apparently Atropos' ability to be *right behind you* now has a whole new level of scariness.I know I'm shouting into the wind here, but for God's sake, anyone else who's planning to smuggle drugs or weapons into Brockton Bay, please don't! I say this for your sake, not mine. You can't spend money if you're dead, and Atropos is REALLY damn efficient at making people dead.(Also, for my sake. Every time I see the result of another attempt, my faith in human intelligence drops by a few points.)(I'm not even going to address the Stuttgart Sud thing. I'm really not.)I don't know anything about the CB3 or its inner workings, so I'm just going to take Atropos' word on how it went. (Also, don't be idiots. You *know* she's invested in making it work.)Just so everyone is aware: I have no idea what this deal is about, but by now we've all learned that when Atropos teases something, she delivers.*Steals some of UnconcernedFox's popcorn and settles down to await the reveal*
►WingsOnHigh
(Verified Not the Simurgh)Replied On Jan 13th 2011:Wait ... Atropos said she blew up the boat by tossing a grenade into the hold, but she *also* showed up on the dock just before the explosion? More than half a mile away? Is it just me or does that say 'teleport' to anyone else?Does Atropos now have an official Mover rating?That would kind of explain a lot, actually.
►AntAuthorReplied On Jan 13th 2011:hah hah. Nazis go "boom". Good riddance to bad rubbish.
►MostlyInsaneWriterReplied On Jan 13th 2011:In the local PRT Office sits a man, a man that has just been reviewing a certain series of threat ratings for a certain Atropos. He has now broken down crying and will need something strong and alcoholic to recover.
►SootStainedEyeballReplied On Jan 13th 2011:So wait ... when she killed Butcher, did she keep the teleportation?Because that's gotta be more than coincidence.
►Reave
(Verified PRT Agent)Replied On Jan 13th 2011:@Atropos - Hello again. I'd like to say that we could've intercepted the boat and taken Night and Fog into custody without incident, but we both know it could've gotten very bloody. Would've, rather.So, I'm not even going to pretend to critique you this time, save to say that we still could have coordinated our efforts, to minimize the loss of life.Everyone deserves due process, after all.Once again, I'd like to renew my invitation to come on in, sit down and talk about our mutual goals and how to best achieve them.How about it?
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me)Replied On Jan 13th 2011:@Reave - thanks for that. I'll have to pass on the chat, though. I still can't help feeling that it would devolve into you asking me not to kill people, and outside idiots taking that as an invitation to wander into my city with drugs.If they know they'll die when they try, then there's fewer headaches all around.Also, I save on ammo.See you around.
►UnconcernedFoxReplied On Jan 13th 2011:*rolls eyes and passes Bagrat a spare packet of popcorn*
►BigBoomNineThousandReplied On Jan 13th 2011:@SootStainedEyeball - But there's no explosion mentioned when she teleports. If she teleports.
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(Showing page 2 of 17)
►SootStainedEyeballReplied On Jan 13th 2011:@BigBoomNineThousand - What if, now bear with me here, what if Butcher never *needed* to do the explosion? What if she always had the choice *not* to do it, but always chose to anyway? And now Atropos is just ... choosing not to?
►EightySixEnhanceReplied On Jan 13th 2011:I'd like to call for a moment of silence for Rob (aka flyhomeET), would-be Empire internet tough guy.Whoops.
►A_Dragon
(Verified not *the* Dragon)Replied On Jan 13th 2011:@EightySixEnhance - just going to point out a well-known quote:"First of all, and most importantly, never forget that people are stupid."Personally, I think the Darwin Award people need to bring out a new category: "people who pissed off Atropos".
►BigBoomNineThousandReplied On Jan 13th 2011:@SootStainedEyeball - huh. Never thought of that.That would make a scary kind of sense.
►AmateurScribeReplied On Jan 13th 2011:@A_Dragon - I think there are other quotes that can be referred to that, off the top of my head:- The mother of all idiots is always pregnant- Fools rush where angels fear to tread- Make something idiot proof, and someone's going to invent a better idiot- Two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity, and I'm not sure about the universe - Albert EinsteinAnybody else got more?
►Darth_PsychoReplied On Jan 13th 2011:I wonder ... if and when Gesellschaft tries to stick their nose into our affairs again, and Atropos takes offense ... how's Interpol going to take her visiting Stuttgart Sud and murdering the idiot who tried?
►AmateurScribeReplied On Jan 13th 2011:@Darth_Psycho - Imma go with 'a round of applause, followed by a sternly worded memo not to do it again'.
►AtrimReplied On Jan 13th 2011:I can see about six different agencies taking an interest:CIA, Interpol, the embassy in Germany, the FBI when she gets back, the entire German government ...Atropos be saying, "come at me, bro".
►Darth_PsychoReplied On Jan 13th 2011:@Atrim - that's five, not six.
►AtrimReplied On Jan 13th 2011:@Darth_Psycho - and Gesellschaft themselves, of course.
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15,
16,
17
■
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PRT Building, Director Piggot's OfficeThursday MorningIt never failed. Whenever Atropos went on one of her 'enthusiastic walks' (she had no idea where Assault got that phrase from, but it had caught on with everyone else) Emily would wake up to yet
another
cleanup of debris and corpses, somewhere in or around her city.There were only three bright spots to this. First, the casualties were never her people, or even innocent civilians (so far). Second, there was never any doubt about who was responsible or even the timeline of events, because Atropos always posted on PHO what she'd done, and who she'd done it to. Sometimes, she even posted it
ahead of time, just to rub it in that she was that damn good. Third, it was always a hit on a righteous target, and there was never any significant resistance by the time the PRT showed up. Literally all they had to do was sort out the debris and identify the bodies.Oh, and the drop in crime rate (especially parahuman crime) was also a breath of fresh air, after ten years of having to deal with the same gang crap, day in and day out. The numbers coming across her desk indicated cautious optimism about the tentative rebound already showing in the city's economy, at all levels. Medhall, for instance, was still actually a going concern, even after a good number of their high-ranking people had 'inexplicably' left town. On the lower end of the spectrum, a lot of the mom-and-pop businesses which had been paying protection up until now were suddenly seeing a new lease of life.All of which was great, except for one thing she couldn't ignore. It was all the result of blatant, unapologetic
murder.
Once upon a time, Emily had thought that as a member of the PRT, she could be a part of making life better for everyone around her by helping enforce the law. She'd never considered it might involve standing back and watching as an edgy-as-fuck vigilante did her job
for
her by killing people.Not that she intended to try and do something about it. She wasn't
stupid.
But last she checked, she was still allowed her own damn opinions.Clicking the mouse, she set the video running again, of the recorded debriefing between Renick and Velocity, at about midnight the previous night. As she watched, the speedster took another drink from the coffee-cup in front of him."When you saw Atropos, did she point a weapon at you, or show any other signs of hostility?" That was Renick, going through the checklist as normal.Velocity shook his head. "She wasn't even holding a weapon. The men there were all kneeling with their hands behind their heads, but all she had in her hand was a phone.""This is the phone that you handed in to our techs, once you were relieved at the scene?""Yes. She saw me and tossed it in my direction. It was a deliberate action. She wanted me to have it."Emily paused the footage again, and looked over at Armsmaster. "Did we get anything out of the phone? Such as who it even belonged to?""That, and much more," he said with some satisfaction. "As far as we can tell, it belonged to Fog. There were several numbers saved into the contacts list. Someone—we're presuming Atropos—made a call to one of the numbers between the time of the boat's explosion and Velocity showing up.
That
call connected to a phone in Germany; it went out of service before we were able to ping its GPS, but we got a general location." He paused for effect. "Stuttgart Sud. Just as Atropos noted.""To absolutely nobody's surprise," Emily observed dryly. "I presume all this has been handed over to Interpol." She knew damn well she'd be kicking asses if it hadn't. In any case, Renick wasn't that sloppy. Cautious, yes. Sloppy, definitely not."All the data we were able to mine out of it, yes. And we're mailing the phone itself to them.""Good, good." She was perfectly willing to acknowledge that the threat of Gesellschaft was getting more and more distant from Brockton Bay, entirely due to Atropos' actions. It was just the
nature
of those actions that she disapproved of. Dropping her eyes to the screen, she clicked the mouse again."Your initial report said she 'vanished'," Renick went on. "Can you expand on that? As I understand things, she's been given a rating of Mover zero, but she's not a speedster, correct?"Velocity grimaced. "We might have to upgrade that. She was standing on a part of the dock that was out over the water, facing me. A kind of doorway formed behind her, but it was hard to see against the darkness. She just stepped backward into it, at the same time as she threw the phone. I tried to tell her to wait, but she went all smoky and vanished, and the doorway did too."Emily stopped the clip again. "So, Atropos has a way to generate teleport portals." She wasn't a Tinker or a Mover, but she knew the terminology. "The question is, how long has she been able to do that?""She's shown none of the signs of being a Tinker … hmm." Armsmaster paused for a moment. "What are the points against her always having been able to teleport?""Kaiser's death," Emily said promptly. "She was seen on camera, sneaking out of the building. Also, she literally rappelled down the side of the building, from one floor to another. If she'd had it then, she could've made it a hell of a lot creepier. And Atropos has
always
been about putting on a show.""Okay, granted." He smoothed his beard with thumb and forefinger. "Let's assume she wasn't just holding back to keep everyone off guard. I figure she picked up the ability somewhere between then and when she threatened Wilkins on Sunday evening.""Wait." Emily shook her head. "What if someone on PHO was right for once? What if she used that Thinker rating to
be
in New York in time to screw over Wilkins, but she couldn't teleport yet?""You're talking about the Butcher." Armsmaster was right on the ball. "You think she got the ability to teleport when she killed the Butcher, Tuesday morning.""Well, where the hell else do you think she would spontaneously acquire the ability to disappear in front of a
speedster?" demanded Emily, mostly rhetorically. "People who kill the Butcher get the Butcher's powers. It's the simplest explanation.""But she's shown no other hint of being under the Butcher's influence, and she hasn't exhibited any of the other powers, even when it would've been useful," Armsmaster argued. "Semantic analysis of her PHO output indicates no particular alteration in her mindset before and after the death of the Butcher. Word choice is similar, and outlook remains the same. Unless she's got the sheer force of will to keep fourteen other minds in solid check all the time … they're not in there. Also, the signature's not the same.""So where did she get the ability to teleport?" Emily spread her hands. "I can't see someone as competent and confident as her getting so rattled as to undergo a second trigger event.""No, true," he conceded. "The only other thing I can think of is if she had access to Tinkertech. Just not her own."She glanced sideways at him. "I seem to recall you mentioning that your halberd will teleport back to you at need. Have you, by chance, built any personal teleport devices that have since gone missing?""No," he said at once, then paused. "… I checked.""Okay, granted. Do you think Kid Win is even capable of building a teleporter?"He snorted. "Building it, sure. Keeping it together for more than a day before he scavenges part of it for something else, no.""Ah, of course. And he's no closer to figuring out his specialty yet?""No." He smoothed his beard again. "Wait. There was one more Tinker in Brockton Bay. One I didn't even think about until now."Emily was confused. She was pretty sure they'd covered all their bases, unless he meant … "What, Leet? Do you honestly think someone as
aware
as Atropos would go to
him?""No, no, think about it." He was almost visibly excited, now. "Do you remember what Atropos said on PHO about them? She told them to stick around, because she wanted to talk to them.""Wasn't that about borrowing Leet's stupid Snitch thing, to get footage of her taking down the Nine?" Emily had watched that footage several times over. More than a few still frames were still making the rounds as memes, usually in the vein of 'It was then he knew he dun fucked up'. The image that Dragon had taken with the missile camera now hung in the lobby down on the first floor; it was possible to buy smaller copies (signed by Dragon) in the gift shop."Yes, but what if it was more than that?" Armsmaster held up his finger. "The takedown of the Nine gave them the greatest ratings they ever had. If she then asked them for a favour, such as building her a teleport device …""Yes, yes, I can see that," she said impatiently. "But you're forgetting one important detail. Leet's tech fails, dramatically, more often than not. And he can never repair it. Why would Atropos go to
him?"Armsmaster looked pensive, or perhaps that was just what she could see under his helmet. "She's a highly aware Thinker. Maybe she's capable of figuring out how to use his tech without breaking it.""So … you're saying she's better at using his tech than he is?" She didn't bother hiding her scepticism.He chuckled. "Well, she could hardly be
worse.""True." She shook her head. "Is it just me or is that cheating?""No. That's Atropos."
<><>
Relevant Side Story
Winslow High SchoolTaylorI caught up with Cherie outside the school. She was less hangdog than she had been on her first day doing the remedial classes, walking along confidently with her head up. As I came up to her, she turned her head until she saw me, then dropped back to match pace with me."Hi." I gently bumped her shoulder with mine. "Did it go better today?""It went a lot better today," she confirmed. "Now that Miss Parrish knows what I don't know, she's giving me lessons that I can actually understand. I'm not saying it's
fun, because it's school and school is supposed to suck, but knowing what I'm doing makes it a lot easier to work my way through it.""Well, that's great." I beamed at her with pride. Such a short time out from under her father's influence, and she was already showing more self-confidence than in the whole time I'd known her. "I'm really pleased to hear it.""Thanks." She gave me a grin in return. "So, what've you got planned for this afternoon?"This was probably going to be the sticking point. "You'll be riding the bus home alone, because I've got something to do in New York.""Alone?" She stared at me, and I saw the worry in her eyes. "Was it something I did? Can't I come to New York with you?"And there was the downside of what I was doing. We'd formed a bond, and separation anxiety linked to a fear of having failed me somehow was starting to kick in. "It's okay. I need you right here in Brockton Bay. There's a job I want you to do for me while I'm gone."She calmed down at that, as I'd known she would. She hadn't let me down and I wasn't abandoning her, so much as delegating a task. More to the point, I was trusting her to do something important in my absence, which I was pretty sure her father had never done in his whole misbegotten life."Okay, whatever it is, I can do it." She eyed me expectantly. "Did you want me to go someplace and scare the shit out of someone?"I chuckled. "I appreciate the offer, and I'm certain you could, but I've got that aspect sewn up. No, see, the drug rehab clinics are opening this afternoon. Since I took out all the distributors in town, and put a stop to incoming shipments for the moment, people will be starting to feel the pinch. What I want you to do is take the temperature of the whole city. And if anyone starts getting particularly aggressive, especially in groups, just … tone them down. Keep them from stirring each other up to the point that they do something really stupid. Can you do that for me?"From the look on her face, she'd been expecting me to challenge her with something totally impossible. "Well … yeah. I can do
that. That's easy.""Good." I patted her arm, knowing that with her power she'd be able to tell how proud I was of her. "Just remember, you're going to need to keep them calm—or calm-ish—until the clinics shut their doors, and a little bit after. Okay?"That was going to be a little more difficult for her, but still well within her capabilities. It was also my sneaky way of introducing her to the idea of being responsible for people outside of herself.She nodded seriously. "I can definitely do that. I know how much this means to you.""Thanks. I mean it. See you at home." Turning, I headed back into the school. People were still coming out, which meant nobody paid much attention to me; those that did, hastily looked elsewhere. It seemed that being suspected to be Atropos had its uses after all.I ducked into the first empty classroom and locked the door behind me. Then I opened the backpack I had slung over my shoulder (which
wasn't
the one I'd been carrying my books around in all day, though the two were deliberately identical) and took out my costume. It didn't take me long to change; I stashed my ordinary clothing in the backpack and slid it on over my long-coat. Then I locked the teleporter onto my arm, typed in the numbers my power told me to enter, and hit the go button. The portal opened in front of me, and I stepped through.
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Diamond Dreams Jewelry ShopMidtown ManhattanLenore Jefferson considered herself to be a conscientious employee. A twenty-two-year-old college student, she valued her employment with Diamond Dreams very highly indeed. As such, she'd paid close attention to the security training courses. It had been drummed into her that the shop inventory was insured, so if anyone came in to rob the place, she was
not
to risk her life or health trying to stop them.She'd also been taught about presentation and showing a pleasant face to the public, so when she spotted a greasy fingerprint-smear on the corner of a display case, she limited her reaction to an annoyed sniff. With nobody in the shop right at that moment—the door buzzer would alert her to a new customer—she took the polishing cloth from her pocket and spritzed the case with a spray of Windex before setting to work on the defacing smear.Which was when someone cleared their throat from right behind her. Where nobody had been
ten seconds ago.With a startled
eep, she shot bolt upright and spun around, to find herself staring at
the
newest big-name cape. Everyone who wasn't literally living under a rock (and probably some who did) knew who Atropos was; the combination of the black morph mask, the hat, the long-coat and the suit and tie under it was a look that nobody could mistake for anyone else. The trouble was, Atropos was a
mass murderer. And instead of being merely a memorable image on Lenore's computer screen, she was standing right there
in the shop.Lenore's smile went from warmly welcoming to something more approximating the desiccated grimace of something found dead in the desert. Her brain, knowing 'fight' would be stupid and 'flight' likely futile, flailed around inside her skull while she tried to figure out what part of the security training covered dealing with the Brockton Bay Angel of Death. "Uh, hello?" she ventured, thinking very loudly,
please don't kill me, please don't kill me."Jeez, relax," Atropos said. "I'm not here to kill you. I'm not here to kill
anyone. But I do need your help."Looking at Atropos, one would imagine her voice to be low and hissing and full of menace, but it was nothing like that. Lenore had watched the footage of the Slaughterhouse Nine takedown (who
hadn't?) and had been taken aback by the down-home sound of her voice. Now, face to face with the remorseless killer who had singlehandedly driven the villains from Brockton Bay, she was struck by the contrast all over again. In fact, just going by the voice, Lenore could almost swear that Atropos was
younger
than her."H-help?" Again, this was not what Lenore had expected. "How can I help
you?" Normals didn't help capes. They stood back and let capes get on with it.
Oh god, I hope she doesn't expect me to kill someone."Nothing too strenuous. Have you heard of Ravager?" Atropos leaned casually against the counter, managing to look both relaxed and lethal at the same time. Lenore had a sudden mental image of the Discovery Channel, with a black panther lying on a tree branch, its tail hanging down, the tip twitching back and forth."Well, yeah." Ravager wasn't
hugely
well known, but she was up there. "Doesn't she have a thing against Mouse Protector?""She does." Atropos tilted her head very slightly; Lenore got the impression she'd just rolled her eyes. "A few days ago, she tried to hire me to kill Mouse Protector for a million bucks.""Uh, tried …?" Lenore didn't know many people for whom the offer of a million dollars
wouldn't
cause them to drastically re-evaluate their friendships. That was kind of sad, now she came to think of it. Or maybe that was just life in the Big Apple. "You didn't take her up on it?""Please." The word was full of scorn. "I'm not for hire. I kill people who are bad for society, and Mouse Protector is the very opposite of that. But she also asked me not to kill Ravager, so I'm not going to. However, I
am
going to utterly murder her credibility as a villain. By the time I'm finished with her, she won't be able to hire out as a
henchman."The hits were just coming too fast for Lenore now. A murderer who had casually turned down a million dollars on principle? Setting out to kill someone's
credibility? "Um …" she ventured, not sure what to say. "How … how can I help you do
that?""Easy." Atropos pointed at the shop exit. "In approximately ninety seconds, Ravager's going to come through that door with every intent of robbing you. She's in a horrible mood, so no matter how much you cooperate, she's likely to hit you with her power on the way out and give you some nasty facial scars. I'm not going to let that happen. Instead, I'm going to make her regret coming anywhere
near
this shop. You down with that?"Lenore blinked. "Um … yeah." There was no other answer she could think of to give. "What do you need me to do? Let you in back?""Nah, I got that covered." Atropos straightened from her relaxed pose against the counter. Reaching back without looking, she tapped a code into the locked door leading behind the counter … and the lock clicked with a cheerful
beep. "What I need you to do is film the action."Lenore stared at the now-open door in total disbelief. "Wha … how did you …"Taking out a smartphone, Atropos woke it up and passed it over to Lenore, who took it dazedly. "I'm just good at what I do. When the action begins, start filming. Okay?""Um … okay?" Right then, Lenore wanted to be anywhere but there.
I did not sign up to be a serial killer's sidekick!Atropos took a step closer and squeezed her shoulder. "I will
not
let them hurt you. Got it?"Although she couldn't see the black-clad cape's eyes, the tone of Atropos' voice was enough to turn Lenore's uncertainties around. It held power and assurance, and put steel into her spine. "G-got it. And thank you.""Hey, you're welcome." Atropos stepped back through the door. "Thirty seconds. Take a deep breath." The door clicked shut behind her, and she moved out of sight.Lenore did as she'd been told and took a deep breath. It served to steady her, and she worked at putting the professional smile back on her face.This was
not
how I expected my day to go.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
Diamond Dreams Jewelry Shop, 3:55 PM EDTAtroposWith fifteen seconds to go, I took my secondary phone out of my pocket, feeling the weight of everything
else
I had stored in my long-coat—big pockets were an absolute
godsend
in my newfound line of work—and tapped in two quick text messages. I knew the first would cause Mouse Protector to raise an eyebrow, but she'd do it. The second was for later.The messages sent, I put the phone away and made sure the things I'd need first were ready to hand. They were, of course, but there was no harm in checking. This was going to be my first time making a deliberate point of
not
killing a hostile cape, and I wanted to utterly destroy her credibility while simultaneously producing a highly entertaining interlude for everyone else.Of course, lacking any more convenient time to do it, I'd had to go 'shopping' just after midnight, once I'd put up the PHO post.
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Wacky Dom's Novelties & Knick-Knacks, Hillside MallDominic Little"Hey, boss? I think we've been burgled."The simple statement by Gina, Dominic's most reliable shop assistant, got his attention and hung onto it. Ceasing his perusal of the monthly sales, he stood up from the comfortable stool behind the counter and peered down toward the back of the shop. Gina stood there, leaning out through the usually-locked door that led to their stock room."Are you sure?" he asked, because nobody in their right mind wanted a statement like that to be true. "Because when I unlocked this morning, the locks were intact and the alarm was still active.""Sure I'm sure." She jerked a thumb back into the stock room. "I was checking stock just yesterday, and unless you sold off some Krazy Glue, that oversized novelty eight-ball that you were keeping back here, some body paint, an oversized clown nose, a bag of those cape-themed marbles, one of the novelty pacifiers, and a bunch of googly eyes when I wasn't looking … yeah, we've been robbed.""Jesus damn motherfucking shit." Dominic was originally from Eastern Europe and while he'd learned English at a relatively young age, his swearing game still had some gaps in it. "Watch the front of the shop. I need to check the security tapes.""Sure thing, boss." Gina left the door to swing shut and took his place behind the counter. "Think it was a cape?""Which cape?" he asked over his shoulder. "Atropos chased them all out of town, remember?"The door had clicked shut by the time he got to it, but he simply tapped in the code to enter. Stepping through, he bypassed the stock room door—he believed Gina's word on what was missing—and instead took the door to the left, into the tiny office.Insurance premiums for his shop were reduced somewhat for being a part of the mall, and he'd reduced them further by installing cameras around the shop, covering the entrance, the till and the rear shop door. Moreover, there was a motion sensor alarm within the shop, which could only be shut down by entering the correct code into a keypad hidden behind the counter.Setting the camera feed to step forward at intervals of one minute—it would take a crafty thief indeed to be in and out within that time—he settled down to watch the screen. Each image flickered up for half a second before moving on; plenty of time to click the mouse and stop it if he saw something interesting.With Gina's help, he'd locked up the shop and gone home at five the previous evening. From five until six, nothing happened. From six until seven, the same. Seven to eight, eight to nine, then nine to ten, likewise. Although he could name every item on every shelf in view, he was getting tired of nothing changing. But he kept watching.The stretch from ten until midnight passed by in one minute, still with nothing to see. But then, just after midnight, there was a flicker on the screen, of something that should not have been there. Hastily, he clicked the mouse. There was a blurred figure caught by the camera in the act of opening the rear shop door. He ran the action back one minute, then started it rolling in real time.With only three cameras in the shop, dead spots were inevitable but he'd made sure they were far from any entrances. From one such dead spot, unseen until now by any camera, emerged a dark-clad figure. Pausing, it looked directly toward the camera and waved.Dominic felt a chill rolling down his back. He
knew
that costume. He'd essentially asked the question:
if Atropos had chased all the villains out of Brockton Bay, which cape could have robbed his shop?And now he knew the answer: Atropos herself.As he watched, she moved toward the counter and vaulted over it with an acrobatic fluidity that only the most athletic capes could match. Leaning down to where the keypad was, she typed in a code … and the blinking light visible on the siren fixed to the ceiling went out. Where she had learned the code, he had no idea; it was written down nowhere and existed in just his and Gina's heads.Letting herself back out of the space behind the counter, Atropos went straight to the door at the rear of the store and tapped in the code there flawlessly as well. Despite his having paid top money for the cameras, the motion detector and the code-locked door, she'd waltzed through his security as though it didn't exist. And that didn't even take into account the way she'd walked out of a dead spot, as though entering via a doorway.Although he knew the facts of the situation now, he kept watching, just to see how bad it got. A few moments later, she emerged again, carefully closing the door behind her. In her hand, she held one of the store's own bags, stuffed full of items. From Gina's description, he was gloomily certain that he knew exactly what was in there.As he watched, she let herself back in behind the counter, no doubt to re-enable the alarm system. She hadn't
had
to, but its status of being off when he arrived would've clued him in that there'd been a late-night visitor much earlier than now. But first … she tipped over the stool he'd been sitting on for most of the day? Sporting a wide round base and a foot-rest, it was quite comfortable. But what did
she
want with it?A moment later, he saw. Taking what were undoubtedly banknotes from her pocket, she held them up for a moment, placed them on the floor, then put the stool back on top. Then she leaned down and re-enabled the alarm. Ducking out from behind the counter, she strode rapidly toward the dead spot, vanishing off the cameras. Nothing else happened, although he watched the footage at four times speed for the next minute.Shutting down the screen, he got up from the chair and left the office, his mind whirling with the possibilities.
Did she just …
pay
for my merchandise? What thief
does
that?Admittedly, the loss of stock wouldn't have eaten at him so much as the violation of his workplace. A villain demonstrating that they could walk in at any time and just take what they wanted would have left him agitated and restless. But instead, he was simply puzzled.Stepping out into the shop, he closed the door behind him and went not toward the counter, but to the dead spot Atropos had vanished into. As he expected, there was nothing of note to see; no disturbed ceiling tiles overhead, no echo when he stamped on the firm concrete flooring beneath the carpet. It looked just like any other spot in the store … except that the cameras did not see it.Gina was watching him as he came back to the counter. "So, did the cameras catch who did it?""Yes," he said absently. "They did. Could you please get off the stool for a moment?""Sure." She stood up and moved away a couple of steps, clearly expecting him to claim the seat. "Are we going to be calling the cops, or mall management? Was it a cape? Which one?""We are not." He tilted the stool over, then leaned down and felt under it with his free hand. His fingers brushed across crinkling paper and he grasped it, then placed the stool upright once more. "Because it is Atropos who took it … and paid for it."Before her wondering eyes—and his expression wasn't far behind—he spread out four twenties on the counter; enough to pay for the missing merchandise, with change left over."I was reading on PHO today that she can maybe teleport now," Gina ventured, after a good thirty seconds' worth of staring at the cash. "So that's probably how she got in and out." Her voice sounded strange, as though she didn't quite believe what she was saying."She could have teleported into the stock room and simply taken all the things, and we would not have been the wiser." Dominic looked at the money again. "But she did it this way, so she could pay.""We wouldn't have
known,
sure, but people would've suspected." Gina sounded sure of herself. "Word would've gotten out. Atropos is very conscious of her brand, of her image. So, she paid."Dominic scratched the back of his head, then picked up the money and placed it firmly in the till. Swiftly, he entered the values of the missing items and registered it as a sale, paid for with cash. Almost ceremoniously, he took out the correct amount of change and dropped it into the charity jar. "There. A sale, all above board and correct."Gina chuckled, though she sounded a little shaken still. "Best customer we never had.""I agree." He placed both hands on the countertop and took a deep breath. "You know, I think we will shut early today. I will still pay you the full wage, but we will both go home and relax. Spend time with our families. I think we have earned it.""Yeah." Gina nodded. "I think you're right." She raised her eyebrows. "Are we going to tell anyone about this?"He shrugged. "Who would believe us?"
<><>
ManhattanMouse ProtectorDiane frowned as her phone pinged with a text message. When she pulled the handset out to check the number, it wasn't one she recognised. However, the message itself grabbed her attention.Hi there. In town, about to mess up Ravager's day. Want to swing by Diamond Dreams, in midtown? Flechette and Jouster are patrolling 3 blocks west of you; if you could grab them on the way, that'd be great – Atropos"Oh, hell
yes," she muttered. She'd only ever seen dead
people
as a result of Atropos' work; how the infamous killer went about murdering someone's
credibility
was something she really wanted to see.Pulling a small collapsible Frisbee out of a pouch—this one had Legend's likeness dyed into the cloth—she tagged it then sent it flying off toward the afternoon sun. How Atropos knew where the two patrolling Wards were, she wasn't even going to speculate.Teleporting to where the tagged Frisbee had landed, she picked it up then jogged to the edge of the roof and surveyed the street below. With a good throw and asphalt-warmed air under it, one of her little discs could go
forever
along one of these concrete canyons; Diane considered herself better than average at the art. Pulling back her arm, she flicked
hard.
The Frisbee zipped out over the street, flying straight and true.She smiled. People thought that only being able to teleport to a tagged item was a limitation to her power, but she knew differently. It was all about playing to her strengths.
<><>
Brockton Bay City Council ChambersCommittee for the Betterment of Brockton Bay (CB3)Danny sat forward in his chair. "With the minutes read, the meeting will now commence. Before we take reports on the implementation of the drug rehabilitation clinics around the city, I would like to make an announcement."He paused for a moment, meeting the eyes of each of the other members of the Committee. They were drawn from all walks of life; some from the Mayor's office, others from the business world, and yet others (like him) from more blue-collar pursuits. He knew all of them, if not personally then by reputation. They were universally noted as being successful in their chosen endeavours, for a varying degree of 'successful'. Two of them, Janice Templeton and Paul King, flinched ever so slightly when he looked at them, and he ticked a couple of boxes in his head.
Thought so."This is a serious endeavour we are embarking on here," he said. "The lives of more than a few of our citizens—and I mean that literally, not figuratively—depend on us turning this city around and steering it away from the rocks. There are people out there whose lives are spiralling downhill due to drug addiction, depression, or simply having fallen through the cracks of society. With poor nutrition and no access to adequate healthcare, they
will
get sick. Some will die in entirely preventable ways, unless
we here in this room
do our jobs right. Fortunately, we have a plan to do just that." One forefinger tapped the thick book that lay in front of him. He'd read it through, absorbing the concepts within, and the elegance astounded him.King raised a finger and cleared his throat. "It's too grandiose, too optimistic. We need to dial it back to what we're capable of doing, here." There were a few murmurs of agreement from around the room, most audible from Janice Templeton.Danny's eyes narrowed a little. "It's only impossible if we all decide it's impossible, and stop trying. I read PHO, as do some of you. Janice, Paul, don't think I didn't notice you trying to introduce ways to skirt around the acquisition guidelines during yesterday's meeting, ostensibly in the name of making things easier. I couldn't prove you were thinking about ways to divert funds, and I still can't. However, Atropos seems to think you were, and she is now paying attention."As he'd expected, dropping the name directly into the discussion had the effect of a large rock falling into a small pool. Now,
everyone
was listening, very carefully, to his words."A-Atropos?" croaked Farley Rogers, the Mayor's representative. "Is-is she coming here?" He stared around at the door, then at every corner of the room."Not that I know of." Danny spoke calmly and smoothly. "However, she did speak to me this morning, on this very topic." She'd merely wished him good luck with the Committee, but they didn't need to know that particular detail. Reaching into his pocket, he took out his cell-phone, and laid it on the table. "If anyone wishes to continue being obstructive, I can call her, and
you
can explain why. Any takers?"Nobody said a word. In fact, everyone (especially King and Templeton) appeared to be trying to give the impression that they didn't even know what obstruction
was.
All eyes were on the phone, like a bunch of chickens hypnotised by a snake."Well, then," Danny said, taking up the phone and dropping it back into his pocket. "Let's move along, then. The drug rehab clinics? Rogers, you were in charge of that, right?""Oh, ah, yes." Jolted into action, Farley nodded almost convulsively. "We have a dozen in place right now, with another fourteen to open tomorrow. The initial ones should have opened their doors in the last fifteen minutes."Paul King cleared his throat again. "I hope you won't accuse me of being obstructionist for pointing out that this is not a wise move. Drug addicts are not known for their self-control. They're likely to mob the clinics and steal the drugs on the premises for their own use." He sat back, looking smug."That's a possibility," Danny allowed. "Farley, find out if that's happening." There was a branch in the plan that covered this specific scenario; all he needed was correct information about the situation."Okay, I'm on it." Farley fumbled out his phone, checked a sheet of paper, and started dialling.Danny looked around at the rest of the table. "While he's getting that update for us, how are we doing on the leadup to the stimulus rollout?""I still don't see why we can't just hand out checks," grumbled Janice Templeton, having apparently grown a backbone since the phone went away. "It's a tried-and-true system.""And altogether too vulnerable to abuse." Danny shook his head. "We're doing it this way.""But giving everyone a debit card is just an unnecessary expense," she argued. "Do you know how much money we could save?"And there's your angle.
"The cost of setting up the cards is negligible, and has already been factored into the ongoing plan." Danny tapped the book. "It's a done deal. We're not changing it at this stage." Turning away from her and firmly shutting down the confrontation, he addressed another member of the Committee. "Cynthia, where are we with locating all the recipients?"Cynthia Horton gave Janice Templeton a scathing look, then addressed Danny. "Ninety-five percent done, closing on ninety-six. I figure we'll have them all nailed down by Friday afternoon.""Good." Danny looked over at Farley. "How are the clinics faring?""Quite well, actually." Farley offered a tentative smile. "All the medical techs manning them report that the patients are well-behaved and polite … well, as polite as addicts can get when they're looking for their next fix. Nobody's even tried to cause trouble.""Oh,
come
on!" scoffed Paul King. "Nobody? That's bullshit! Check again!""He already checked once." Danny's voice was mild, but there was steel underneath. "I'm not going to let you waste this Committee's time on your little power plays. Now, moving along. The next part of the plan calls for infrastructure renewal …"
<><>
CherishWell, now.
Someone's
trying to play it sneaky.Leaning back in her bus seat, Cherie grinned as she looked out the window. For all anyone knew, the grin was just because she was going home after a strenuous day of having facts crammed into her head, but this was not precisely the case. She was in fact listening in on the music generated by every single person in Brockton Bay.More to the point, she was focusing on three groups of men, which had each congregated near one of the clinics in the less-affluent areas of Brockton Bay. Interestingly enough, these men did not radiate the desperation and need of a drug addict. Instead, their emotional songs made it plain that they were entirely clear-headed, and were intending to do violence in the name of greed; or to put it another way, they'd been paid to cause trouble.Just for a moment, Cherie wondered if these were the people Taylor had meant her to be looking out for, then she nodded to herself.
Of course they are. She doesn't miss a damn trick. I should know.Reaching out, she delved into the emotional makeups of each of the potential troublemakers and found what she was looking for: the very real and thoroughly rational fear of Atropos. What with Taylor's extremely public debut, followed by the ever gorier executions of the cape gang leaders on each successive night, there wasn't a man on any of the teams who
hadn't
heard of her, or didn't fear her. Cherie took that fear and blew it out for them, forcibly reminding them that they were doing something she would almost certainly disapprove of.And when Atropos disapproved of someone, their lifespan was generally measurable in hours at best.As it turned out, she didn't even have to maintain the push; once reminded, they stoked the fires themselves. Everybody had either seen one of Atropos' victims, or knew someone who had. This was no shadowy legend, lurking in the dark and spreading rumours. Atropos was absolutely, unequivocally real … and she
would
come for them.It was like she'd dropped an ink bomb in a pail of milk, as the darkness spread and consumed the light. Their collective sense of purpose dulled, began to question itself, then died altogether. The flame of their intent guttered then went out in one and then another. She could not discern words via her power, but her best bet at the emotion they were feeling would have expressed itself as, "Fuck it, I'm not being paid enough for this shit."By contrast, the drug addicts themselves were on the whole well-behaved. Only a few started acting up, but they weren't being paid to do it, so a little emotional adjustment calmed them right down again.As the bus trundled onward, Cherie wondered what Taylor was up to in New York.Oh, well. She'll tell me when she gets home.In the meantime, being the good guy felt surprisingly … good.
<><>
BoardwalkAisha"Thith ith tho
good!"Aisha had to laugh at the image Riley presented. As Brian was off duty, he'd declared a family outing to the Boardwalk, where he'd bought cotton candy for both Aisha and Riley. Aisha was used to the stuff, though she still enjoyed it. Riley, on the other hand, had her face more or less buried in the colourful, wispy confectionary."Wow," she said, sneaking her phone out for a picture of her 'cousin', because blackmail was always fun. "You've, like, never had any,
ever?""Family situation, remember?" That was Brian, pointing out what Aisha had temporarily forgotten. Those three innocuous words highlighted the fact that Riley's childhood from six to twelve had been ripped away from her, and she was only now being given the opportunity to catch up on being a kid.Which she was, in spades. With Aisha's enthusiastic encouragement, she was indulging in pillow-fights, back-talking Brian (but politely, because there were some habits Aisha didn't feel like breaking) and apparently geeking out over cotton candy."I've seen it but never had the chance to eat any," Riley clarified once she came up for air. "Good girls don't eat sweets before supper, you see.""Wow, damn." Brian ruffled her hair. "Well, you go ahead and enjoy. This afternoon's about having fun, not sticking to rules.""If you're not too careful with that, you'll be sticking to everything
else," Aisha jibed with a giggle. Just then, her phone beeped to indicate an incoming text message. "Whoop, gotta check this."With the phone already in her hand, she checked the screen. Her eyebrows hitched up and she barely managed to hold back a squee as she saw the caller ID:
Her Dark Ladyship of Booyah.
Then she looked at the message itself.Hi to my biggest fan. Imma drop by for a visit this afternoon. No need to rush home; I'll get there ten minutes after you walk in the front door. You go ahead and let Riley enjoy the Boardwalk. Also, got a souvenir for you.- APS: No, really, enjoy the Boardwalk.Her initial impulse was to tell Brian to drop everything, they had to get home. But looking at the postscript, she took a breath. She knew enough about Atropos to be aware that whenever they got home, she
would
show up ten minutes after. And they
were
here to let Riley enjoy herself as a kid for maybe the first time in forever.K, she texted back, then pocketed her phone."What was that about?" Brian was looking at her with the big-brother
you're up to something
vibe."Nothing," she said, then saw from his expression that line would never fly. "Okay,
fine.
My favourite cape ever will be dropping in once we get home. She said not to worry about hurrying."He raised an eyebrow. "Favourite cape ever? You know …" He gestured at himself.
I'm a cape, too."I know what I said." Crossing her eyes at her brother, she stuck her tongue out at him, then went to Riley's rescue. "C'mon, Ri. Let's go get this stuff out of your hair. And ears. Wow, when you eat this stuff, you don't do it by halves.""But it's so
good," protested Riley, but she didn't resist as Aisha grabbed her hand.Towing Riley toward the nearest public restrooms, Aisha grinned. "Not arguing."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N 1: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
San Francisco, 12:55 PDT
A Closed Session of the Elite
The room was darkened. Every participant in the meeting who was truly there wore a cloth mask that obscured their features, though they'd also donned their formal clothing for the occasion; there was no need to be
barbaric
about this, after all. Screens across the other side of the table, allowing those who were absent to sit in, showed similarly darkened silhouettes.
Voices spoke back and forth, with electronic alteration disguising familiar tones. Still, everyone there knew everyone else. Names were eschewed as a matter of course.
"What is the latest on the Brockton Bay situation?"
"The Gesellschaft attempted to smuggle drugs and weapons in by boat. Atropos predicted it the night before, then got on board while it was running silent and killed everyone on board. Including two capes, Night and Fog. She also blew up the boat and got off unscathed."
All present considered that. Night and Fog had been formidable, if unimaginative. On the other hand, Atropos' reputation as a stone-cold scary Thinker was growing by the day. She had intercepted their latest attempt to smuggle drugs into the city, accurately identified the Elite as the originators, and had the sheer gall to call them out on it.
The trouble was, nobody knew for a fact whether it was a bluff or if she could actually follow through on the threat. Few there were willing to gamble their lives against the cape who had single-handedly scoured every criminal cape out of what had once been a near-Mecca for crime on the east coast. Plans that had been drawn up for entry into the city in the next twelve to eighteen months were having to be put on hold.
"How, exactly, did she get onto the boat, does anybody know?" This was a new voice.
"The current theory is that she has somehow gained the ability to teleport, possibly via Tinkertech. She had at least one interaction with the Tinker known as Leet before his departure from the city, and there may have been others."
Silence fell again, this time more fraught than before. A Combat Thinker was bad enough; one who could also teleport? 'Bad' was nowhere near an adequate descriptor.
"This is troublesome. Is there any way Atropos can be co-opted? Bought off?"
"Bribed? Unlikely. She arranged for the Slaughterhouse money to go straight into a fund to revitalise the city. If nearly a hundred million dollars won't tempt her, nothing we can offer her will."
Several voices spoke at once, then paused. One carried on. "And if we offer to pay for the revitalisation, ourselves? Bring her into the fold that way?"
"While we could potentially gain entry in this way, it wouldn't be worth the effort."
"What?"
"Why not?"
There was a sigh, rendered into electronic hash. "In order to stay in Brockton Bay, we would have to work toward the improvement of the city at all times, while refraining from any actions that would gain us an unfair advantage. Our businesses would return a profit—the economy there is already showing signs of a rebound, even ahead of the rejuvenation effort—but it would be modest in comparison to those locations where we have total control. Also, she would almost certainly disallow any significant criminal activity, cape-related or otherwise."
"And if we … chose not to accept that limitation?"
"Her Thinker capability would likely warn her of treachery before we ever started acting against her. We've all seen how she acts against those she sees as enemies. As I've already made clear, it would not be worth the effort."
"So, what you are saying is that because of Atropos, Brockton Bay is off limits?" The voice, already made neutral by the electronic mask, managed to render the question into a masterpiece of ambiguity.
"That is what I am saying, yes."
"Unfortunate. There were many opportunities to be had there."
"Indeed."
One of the screens, heretofore dark and silent, flared to full life. As the glare backscatter illuminated the room by a few degrees, those closest to it leaned away from the light. Pictured on the screen was a mask featuring a sneering visage, framed by wildly styled hair and a single earring. Incongruously, the newcomer wore a business suit of the highest quality, albeit without a tie.
"That's not what you're saying." His voice, unaltered by electronic modulation, was distinctive and grating. "You're saying you want someone to go there and deal with your little cape-killing problem so you can waltz in and take over, heh." He shook his head in what seemed to be amused contempt.
"Atropos is a combat Thinker, Bastard Son." The warning tone was evident even through the modulation.
"Who uses guns and knives." The sneering tone was a match for the mask. "Anything she can do, my boys and girls can match, heh."
"You are not being ordered to do this. You will receive no support if you do go."
Behind the eyeholes of his mask, Bastard Son rolled his eyes. "Christ, she's really got you buffaloed, doesn't she? Well, I'm going to Brockton Bay, and I'll bring you back Atropos' head. And then you can walk on in nice and peaceful and set up business the way you want to, heh." His voice was savagely sarcastic. "You're welcome."
His screen went dark again; silence fell once more as the echoes from his presence faded from the room.
Eventually, someone spoke. "Do you think he can do it?"
"I place no bets."
<><>
Diamond Dreams Jewelry Store
Lenore
Right on thirty seconds by the clock on the wall, the door was roughly pushed open and a tall woman entered the store. Wearing a biker jacket and fingerless gloves over a t-shirt bearing the anarchy symbol in red, Ravager sported a cloth mask tied all the way around her head, covering the top half of her face, and carried a sawn-off double-barrelled shotgun. Even without Atropos' warning, Lenore would have recognised her; for a B-list villain, she had a distinctive look about her. The public perception of her could be summed up as
do not approach, do not engage, do not antagonise.
Mouse Protector, of course, did all three, but that was probably because Ravager sought
her
out repeatedly. The independent hero was good enough to take her on and beat her, repeatedly. Lenore had no idea
why
Ravager kept coming back for more punishment. Some people couldn't bear to lose, apparently.
"This is a robbery!" announced the villain, somewhat superfluously, levelling the shotgun at Lenore's head. As she moved into the room, three men wearing balaclavas crowded in behind her. They carried pry-bars and cloth sacks, evidently ready to clear out the store's floor stock. "Do
anything
stupid and I will blow your fucking head off, you wimpy little bitch. Do you understand me?"
"Y-yes," quavered Lenore, suddenly a lot less sure about this whole thing. Where was Atropos? Wasn't she supposed to be stepping in and saving the day?
"Good." There was more than a little bit of a growl to Ravager's tone. She was definitely in a bad mood. Moving up to where the security door led into the back of the shop, she prodded it with the shotgun barrel. "What's the code?"
Before Lenore could answer, the door opened from the inside and Atropos plucked the shotgun from Ravager's hand as though it had been offered and accepted. Then the butt-end of the shotgun smacked Ravager right between the eyes; stumbling backward, the villain sat down hard on the floor, apparently stunned.
"The code is, 'say please', dumbass." Atropos stepped out through the doorway and let it swing closed behind her. She gave Lenore a quick sideways nod—start recording—then turned her attention to the three henchmen. Interrupted in their perusal of which cases they were going to break into first, they stared back at her. "I've only got beef with your boss. You can stay and die, or you can fuck off right now." She gestured with the shotgun. "Your choice."
They may have been armed with more than pry-bars, but whatever firearms they had on them were not in their hands, leaving them at a fatal disadvantage when it came to someone with Atropos' known capabilities. Lenore supposed that if Ravager had been a well-respected employer, they may have made a stand. As it was, they looked at Atropos then at each other.
"Nope."
"Nope."
"Fuck,
nope."
Seconds later, the door closed behind the last of them.
"What the fuck are you doing
here?" squawked Ravager, pulling herself up by a display case. "You never leave Brockton Bay!"
"On the contrary, Ravisher, I've already made it clear that I'll travel if I consider it necessary." Atropos made the shotgun vanish into her long-coat with an ease that would've made a professional magician start taking notes. "Or was it Rabbithole? I've forgotten."
Filming the action, Lenore couldn't help but admire the red flush that spread along Ravager's jawline; not from embarrassment, but from anger. "It's
Ravager,
you fucktard!"
"Hmm, I dunno.
Radisher, you fucktard
seems like a complicated name to me," mused Atropos, fiddling with something in her hands; Lenore couldn't quite see what it was. "Maybe you should consider shortening it, Wrangler?"
"It's
Ravager!" Screaming her name at the top of her lungs, Ravager pulled a wicked-looking knife from under her jacket and lunged at Atropos, apparently throwing all caution to the winds.
What happened next was almost too fast to catch, even though Lenore was watching; Ravager's knife was less than a foot from Atropos before she caught the villain's wrist with one hand and stepped aside. As Ravager went past, Atropos slapped her in the face with the other hand. Once more, Ravager ended up on the floor, this time face-first. Atropos stepped to the side and carefully placed the knife on a display case, out of the way.
"What the fuck? What did you do to me? What did you do to my eyes?" Ravager clawed her way to her feet, staring around blindly, and no wonder; over the eye-holes in her mask were now two palm-sized novelty-store googly-eyes, the 'pupils' rolling around crazily as Ravager stared wildly from side to side. Despite the still-apparent danger, Lenore had to work hard to hold back from bursting into laughter; it was just too funny.
Holding up a drawstring bag for the camera, Atropos leaned over briefly; Lenore heard marbles bouncing over the tiled floor. Ravager apparently didn't, because one stumbling step too far (googly eyes still bouncing around wildly) sent her feet flying into the air as she landed hard on her back. The pratfall was magnificent, and Lenore nearly dropped the phone as she choked with laughter.
"Ooh, you'll want to watch your footing there, Ravioli," Atropos advised, far too late. "Though I do think that's a good look for you." Almost casually, she took a can of
actual ravioli
from her pocket and pulled the top off.
"Fuck you! The name's Ravager!
Ravager!" Clambering to her feet once more, Ravager wrenched at the googly-eyes that Atropos had somehow
glued
to her mask. In the end, she just ripped the mask off and flung it aside, revealing her uncovered face in all its fury … half a second before Atropos threw the contents of the can in her face.
"Nah, I think I prefer Ravioli. Suits you." Atropos stepped neatly aside from an enraged charge that ended in Ravager tripping and head-butting the wall; Lenore wasn't sure whether this was due to Atropos or the marbles that were still rolling around.
"I'm going to kill you!" the villain raged, dragging herself to her feet once again. Lenore had to admit, she herself would've just surrendered by now to get the humiliation over with. "I'm going to murder you
so hard,
you and the shop bitch there."
"Now see, that's just rude," Atropos complained, wandering closer. Again, she seemed to be fiddling with something that Lenore just couldn't see. "Swearing and threatening innocents? That's just terrible PR, Ravioli. You should know that by—"
"Shut the fuck up!" screamed Ravager. "It's
RAVAGER!" Clearly consumed by her fury, she flung herself at her tormentor, fingers crooked to try to tear at Atropos like a wild animal. Atropos melted aside like a canny matador up against a particularly clumsy bull, and smacked Ravager in the face once more. Yet again, the marbles were the villain's undoing and she face-planted into the floor as if she'd planned it.
"No, I'm pretty sure it's Ravioli. I mean, you can clear it up right now if you want." Atropos leaned against a display case with her arms folded, the very image of patience.
This time when Ravager got up, Lenore lost it altogether. Firmly planted in the villain's mouth was a large bright pink novelty-store pacifier with a half-circle cut out of the top. Between that and the pasta still adhering here and there to the supervillain's face, she looked utterly and totally ridiculous. "MMMPH!" she enunciated loudly, though with zero chance of being understood. "Mmmph. Mmmmmmmmmph!
MMMMMPH!"
"Okay, Ravioli it is, then," Atropos said, as though agreeing to whatever Ravager was saying. "You don't have to repeat yourself. I heard you the first time."
Despite being weak with laughter, Lenore worked to keep the phone pointed at the pair. Atropos had definitely saved her, so it was the least she could do to record the aftermath. Though she was honestly starting to wonder if Ravager wouldn't prefer death to this.
<><>
Boston, Massachusetts
Judge Peter Regan's Chambers
The phone on Peter's desk rang. Frowning at the name that showed up on the caller ID, he picked up the handset. "Hello, Dragon," he said. "How may I help you?"
"Good afternoon, Judge Regan."
The Canadian hero's greeting was polite, which didn't reassure him in the slightest. Nobody who called out of the blue actually wanted to just pass the time. Dragon needed something from him, and he had an idea what it was. "I'm calling about the Mcabee case. It's on your docket, yes?"
"The Canary case? Yes, it is," he replied cautiously. "If you have access to evidence regarding the case, you should be speaking to the District Attorney or the defense lawyer, not me."
"Not evidence, exactly." Her tone was firm. "I've heard allegations that she's being treated unfairly. That precautions which have already been approved will prejudice the jury against her, and have no basis in fact. I've even heard you won't be giving her the right to speak for herself, which is worrying if true.
Is
it true?"
He sighed. This objection had been bound to come up, along with others, so he'd made sure he had the rebuttals ready to hand. "She's a known Master. We don't know that she doesn't have a Brute rating that could allow her to tear off her gag in court—"
"It occurs to me that you could put her in a soundproof room with a teletype link, and bypass the vocal aspects of her power altogether,"
Dragon interrupted. "In fact, I happen to know that you already have such facilities. Why aren't you allowing her to use them?"
It was time to put his foot down. "Dragon, this conversation is veering perilously close to a charge of attempted obstruction of justice. I do things my way in my courtroom, and unless you wanted to show up with a license to practise law—"
"Oh, this isn't coming from me. I got this all from someone else."
He paused. "What? Who?"
"You've heard of Atropos, have you not? Well, the other day we were in communication regarding another matter, and this particular case came up. She seems to be aware of aspects of the situation that are not public knowledge, such as the things I just brought up. Also, she mentioned secret meetings between you and the PRT where the outcome of the case had already been decided, and that Canary was due to be sent to the Birdcage so as to make an example of her. Being somewhat concerned about the matter, I asked her what she intended to do if the trial and sentencing went ahead as planned."
Peter Regan had indeed heard of Atropos. Sweat springing out on his brow despite the cool temperature in his chambers, he sat upright, grasping the phone tightly. "And what did she say?" It was all he could do to make the question sound normal.
"She said she could solve the matter either quietly or loudly. I asked her what 'loudly' meant. This is a direct quote:
I go in there and bust her out. Bring her back to Brockton Bay, unfreeze her assets, and let it be known that she's under my protection. While they're jumping up and down over that, I locate the inevitable records that were made of these secret discussions and put them on the public record. Lawyers will be falling over themselves to represent her. The PRT takes a huge hit in reputation, people get demoted, the judge gets disbarred, and Chief Director Costa-Brown resigns quietly."
That was bad. That was really, really bad. Peter had his own records of the discussions in question, and although he could easily dispose of them, that didn't mean there weren't others elsewhere. Still, he had to know. "What … what is the quiet way?"
"Not as stringent, thank goodness. This is also a direct quote:
I have a nice private chat with the judge one dark night. As a totally unrelated incidence, he recuses himself, with the result that a lot of this shit they're piling on her will just go away. Once she has access to her own funds and her own lawyer, she can fight her own battles."
Instinctively, he shook his head. The very last thing he wanted was to be woken up in the middle of the night with Atropos looming over him and asking questions that she might not like the answers to. 'She … she can't
do
this!" he protested weakly. "This is … this is absolutely obstruction of justice! I'll ask for protection, from the Triumvirate if I have to!"
"Oh, hadn't you heard?"
The tone of Dragon's voice warned him ahead of time. This was going to be bad news. "Atropos has announced her intention to kill the Endbringers. Given her proven talent for murder, the Triumvirate has decided to go hands-off on her for the time being, to see if she can actually pull it off."
His eyes widened as he felt the lifeline slipping away. "They can't
do
that!" But even as he protested, he knew that they could. And considering the bloodbath she'd perpetrated on the Nine, there was no way merely human security could hold her back from her purpose.
"I guess that's between you and them. Anyway, I just thought I'd give you the heads-up. Good afternoon, Judge. Have a nice day."
The call ended.
Peter sat for a long time staring at the phone before he put it down.
<><>
Flechette
Lily aimed her arbalest and shot the arrow across the street, nailing it into the stone façade of the building opposite. Exerting her power on the chain that trailed back from the arrow, she fused it into the parapet where she was, then stepped up onto the chain and fitted the purpose-built grooves in her boot-soles onto it. Her power made her boots almost frictionless, allowing her to slide the length of the chain in just seconds. Then she loaded another arrow and shot back at where she'd attached the chain in the first place. It severed the links; she grabbed the now-loose chain as she dropped, allowing it to slide through her gloves until she reached ground level.
Seconds later, a collapsible Frisbee hit the wall beside her and rebounded to land on the sidewalk. Mouse Protector appeared beside it, then leaned down to retrieve it and stow it in a pouch. Turning, she gave Flechette a nod. "Where's Jouster?"
"Still coming," Lily said. "His Mover power only works in short bursts. I told him I wouldn't go in until you arrived. Why does Atropos want us here, anyway?" She'd
heard
of the Brockton Bay villain, but had never expected to meet her, at least on the same side of a set of bars.
"Search me. She just said to invite you along." Mouse Protector looked up as a bright figure flashed overhead, then came down for a fast landing. "Oh, hey, Legend. Decided to get in on the fun, huh?"
Legend nodded, his normally cheerful expression currently absent. "I've heard a lot about Atropos, and I thought it was time we had a face-to-face. Also, Flechette and Jouster are my responsibility while they're in the field."
"Fair." Mouse Protector pointed down the street, toward the frontage of Diamond Dreams. "Looks like someone's … holy crap. Oh, God. I've
got
to get a photo of this."
The door had just opened and someone Lily vaguely recognised as Ravager stumbled out, her hands zip-tied behind her back. There were what looked like squares of ravioli stuck to her face and jacket, a large pink pacifier in her mouth, an equally large plastic clown nose covering her own nose (with oversized nostril-holes), and she had two huge googly eyes covering her real eyes. To add salt to the wound, someone had painted the word "RAVIOLI" across the back of her jacket, and put big streaks of green and pink in her hair.
"Oh. Oh, my goodness." Legend ventured closer, staring in fascinated disbelief. Lily followed on, making sure she didn't get in the way of Mouse Protector taking photos. "That
is
Ravager … right?"
"Not anymore." Atropos strolled out through the still-open door, then leaned back through for a moment. "Sorry about the mess!" she called out, then let the door close. "Ladies and gentleman, may I introduce: Ravioli, scourge of the New York restaurant scene." She tapped the villain on the shoulder. "Sit. Stay."
Obediently, Ravager sat down, right where she was. She appeared to be at a point where she just didn't care anymore, as far as Lily could tell.
"Atropos …" Legend seemed to be lost for words. "What …?"
"Ask MP," Atropos said briskly, shutting her phone off. "Once this goes online, along with the full video of the beatdown I just gave Ravioli here, do you think she'll have a shred of credibility left?"
"Holy shit." Mouse Protector held her hands over her mouth, but kept talking anyway. "Holy
shit. You did all this to her … just to mess with her credibility?"
Atropos shrugged. "That's what I said I'd do, right? You didn't want her dead.
She
might want to be dead right now, but that's totally not my problem."
"But … but …
why?" Legend frowned. "What did she ever do to you?"
"Tried to hire me to off MP here, actually." Atropos rested her elbow comfortably on Mouse Protector's shoulder. Mouse Protector didn't seem to notice, staring enthralled at her sworn enemy's discomfiture. "Here; this chat log should cover it." Pulling up an image on her phone, she showed it to Legend.
He read it through, his eyebrows rising higher with every line. When he got to the end, he stared at Ravager, then at Mouse Protector, then at Atropos. "A fundraising event?"
"Yup." Atropos stashed the phone away in one of her pockets. "Brockton Bay General Hospital, children's oncology ward. Look it up for yourself."
"Thank you. I will." He shook his head as he looked down at the thoroughly defeated Ravager … or, as Atropos had renamed her, Ravioli. "Remind me to never get on your bad side."
Mouse Protector snorted. "As if anyone needs a reminder for that."
"Okay, wait just one second." Lily held up her hands in a 'time-out' gesture. "Okay, I get that you did this to Rav … uh, Ravioli as a favour to Mouse Protector." She looked down the block toward where Jouster was jogging toward them. "But why me and Jouster? Why did you want us here too?"
Legend's attention sharpened. "What? You weren't on site already?"
"Nah, I asked for them. Mainly Flechette, actually." Atropos turned toward Lily. "No big deal. I know someone who's a big fan, is all. I was just wondering if I could get a selfie with you before I went back to Brockton Bay."
Legend cleared his throat. "Ah … about that …"
Atropos turned her head toward him, and Lily got the impression of a raised eyebrow. "Let me guess. Director Wilkins is still butt-hurt about how I shut down her attempt to figure out my secret identity, and she's issued an arrest warrant specifically for little old me, for the state of New York."
"Ah … yes." He seemed somewhat embarrassed at the notion. "Chief Director Costa-Brown filled me in on what actually happened that night, though she never explained how you got
into
the Director's office to begin with."
"A girl's gotta have her secrets." Lily could
hear
the grin in her voice. "Do you intend to try to arrest me?"
"I believe I will be dealing with Ravager for the next … say, five minutes." He gave her a firm stare. "After that, I'll be forced to notice your presence."
"Fair enough." She tilted her head toward the defeated villain. "Oh, and just in case you're wondering? Krazy Glue."
He followed her gaze. "Krazy Glue? Oh, the nose?"
"And the pacifier. And the googly eyes." The suggestion of a grin was back. "The body paint should wash straight off, though. And she might lose her eyebrows."
"I believe that will be the least of her problems." He shook his head again. "I suspect I should be glad you're not an official hero. The villains would be complaining non-stop."
"Meh, heroism's overrated. Anyway, can I get back to asking Flechette for a selfie?"
"Be my guest." He leaned over Ravager, possibly checking her bonds, as Atropos turned back to Lily.
"So, hey," she said. "Like I said, my friend is a big fan, and I think your powers are pretty cool too. Can I get you to sign a selfie with me?"
Jouster panted up alongside Flechette and came to a halt. "What's going on here?" he asked. "What did I miss? Wait, is that Atropos?"
"You missed nearly everything, hon," Mouse Protector said not unkindly, taking him aside. "And yes it is, but we've got it all under control. How about you go in there and get a statement from the shop assistant, and see if we can get access to the security footage? Because I absolutely want to see how she ended up like that."
"Um." Lily found herself put very much on the spot. Having a notorious mass murderer claim to be a fan of her work wasn't
quite
what she wanted out of life. On the other hand, Atropos was surprisingly chirpy and outgoing in person. Despite
knowing
that Atropos was an unrepentant killer, she found herself warming to the black-clad girl. "Wait, how am I going to sign a selfie?"
"I am
so
glad you asked." Atropos delved into one of the pockets of the long-coat she was wearing, and came up with an odd-looking camera.
"A Polaroid." Lily shook her head in wonder. "I didn't even know they made those anymore."
"We've had this one for years." Atropos held it up. "Is it okay, or no?"
Looking around for inspiration, Lily glanced at Mouse Protector, who gave her a nod. "Go on, why not? In fact, heck, can I get one with you too, 'Trops?"
Atropos sighed. "Only you would come up with a nickname like that. And you're the only one I'm going to allow to use it. But sure, let's get that selfie."
As she lined up with Mouse Protector and Atropos, who was angling the camera to catch Ravager in the shot as well, Lily shook her head.
This was
not
how I expected my day to go.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
Taylor
"Well, this has been fun," I said, pretending to peer over Flechette's shoulder as she signed the photo. In actual fact, I had my hands behind my back, sliding my sleeve back to get access to the teleporter. Going by touch, I flipped the cover up and hit the button to recall the next coordinates programmed into the teleporter. Two more button presses set the timer, then I pressed the 'go' button. With that sorted out, I closed the cover and slid my sleeve back down. "But I really need to be getting back to Brockton Bay before someone like Bastard Son decides that the place is ripe for the picking."
Legend looked alarmed. "I know you've been destroying drug shipments belonging to the Elite as well as Gesellschaft, but do you have reliable intel that they're sending Bastard Son to take you out?" We both knew the Elite were making tentative moves toward the east coast, but they didn't have a definitive foothold yet. Brockton Bay, as it had been, would've offered a tempting target for them.
I grinned; he couldn't see my expression, but he could certainly infer it from the tone of my voice. "Not
sending
as such. Just failing to protest too hard when he goes of his own accord. A few of them were kind of subtly encouraging him, so I'm going to have to explain matters to them in good time. If they're lucky, I won't have to shout."
"I've heard of that asshole," Mouse Protector interjected. "If you want, I can come back to Brockton Bay for a while if you need backup. They say his group can be almost as bad as the Nine were."
"Only in intent, not capability." I knew there was little I could say to assuage their worries. In this particular circumstance, I figured doing was better than telling. "I appreciate the offer, but I'll have everything handled on that front by the time the fundraiser rolls around. See you then?"
"Totally," she agreed, grinning broadly, and offered her hand to shake.
I could tell she intended to mark my glove as a beacon for her teleport power, but only for if I ever needed help. It was sneaky and underhanded, but I couldn't really complain. I did sneaky and underhanded all the time, then disguised it with flashy and blatant. It was amazing what I could get away with when people thought they could see my every move.
I shook her hand, then leaned forward and whispered in her ear, "I know you mean well, so I won't store it at the bottom of my closet." Then I stepped back from her and turned my attention to Flechette. "Hey, thanks for the autograph. My friend will really appreciate it. She's kind of had a bad family situation, so this will cheer her right up." I tilted my head slightly. "And you know, if you ever want to talk to someone about anything, totally non-judging, I can be a real good listener. Just saying."
"Uh, thanks." She handed the photo to me, along with the marker I'd supplied for the occasion. "I might actually take you up on that sometime."
"Flechette …" Legend didn't say any more than that, but his tone was warning enough.
"Oh,
relax." I tucked the photo away and spread my hands. "I promise, she'll be safe with me. Hell, if you let her come visit Brockton Bay, I'll even give her a tour of the city, including the places non-locals don't know about. And I totally won't try to recruit her for the dark side. Even though we have cookies."
"Director Wilkins would not approve of any such thing." He didn't sound as though he agreed with such a stance; rather, he was just saying it as a fact.
"Well, as I said earlier, Director Wilkins is butt-hurt over the fact that I caught her with her hand in the cookie jar and the Chief Director backed me up." I shrugged. "Anyway, what she doesn't know won't hurt her, right?"
Legend sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I'm pretty sure that's not the way it works."
"Does with me. Anyway, I'll see you guys around. Some sooner than others." I decided not to do finger-guns, because that might not go down well. Instead, I drew my shears and mimed snipping a doorway out of the air.
Right on time, the portal formed and I stepped into it with a little finger-wave. The last thing I saw of the heroes were their expressions: Legend resigned, Mouse Protector intrigued, Jouster discombobulated and Flechette thoughtful.
<><>
West Coast
The man known as Bastard Son sat and pondered his options. He knew full-well that even those who tacitly approved of his expedition to Brockton Bay didn't hold high hopes for his success, and in all honesty he didn't blame them. Among the other Elite he was known as a mad dog, using vicious and unfair means to achieve his aims, which was true to a point. However, none of this meant he was
stupid.
A reputation for ferocity could carry a cape quite some distance, making potential opponents unwilling to engage them in battle. Simply showing up could win the fight without a punch being thrown. On top of that, actual capability helped as well; a cape
known
for potent abilities would naturally have fewer challengers. But the third leg of the tripod was the dual thrust of strategy and tactics, winning the fight before the opponent ever showed up.
Atropos was a formidable cape by any metric. Her record was flawless, killing the (almost) unkillable Oni Lee, then four other cape crime bosses over the course of five nights. She was clearly a combat Thinker of some note, as shown by her by-the-numbers takedowns of both the Nine and the Teeth (even Butcher, which had impressed him considerably). Her tactical acumen was damn near flawless, her capabilities impressive and her reputation fearsome.
It was no wonder that most of the villain capes who would otherwise be diving in for their slice of the Brockton Bay pie were sheering off. Equally unsurprising was the fact that even his colleagues in the Elite were a lot less sanguine about setting up shop there than in any other city they'd made moves on. Hero capes were one thing; they could be worked around. A villain cape who made it a point to violently (and publicly) murder intruding villains, so feared that even the PRT walked softly around her? Quite another story.
From everything he'd seen of her actions, she would not care about his reputation, so he wouldn't be able to scare her off that way. Her combat capabilities were formidable, but she was limited to human-level speed and strength, and thus far had only used non-Tinkertech weapons; the people he trained were at
least
as good as her, and they'd have the added advantage of numbers. She'd have to beat every one of them flawlessly, while all they had to do was get one lucky hit in on her. (Her newfound teleport capability would be an issue there, but they should be able to work around it.) And finally, while her tactics were a thing of beauty, he had yet to see her employ long-range strategy. Attacking the enemy's weaknesses before the battle even began.
One such obvious weakness was of course Atropos' family and friends. Menacing the loved ones of a troublesome cape was such a hackneyed plot that even the villains of the corniest superhero dramas didn't stoop so low, at most threatening to reveal their secret identity. That didn't make it invalid, so much as it ensured that anyone using this technique would be reviled in the cape community and beyond. He was fine with that; as far as he was concerned, having a name like 'Bastard Son' gave adequate warning of how far he was willing to go.
Of course, locating a family member or friend to place adequate pressure on was another matter altogether. Atropos' costume covered her up so thoroughly that even her skin colour was a matter of conjecture. From her voice and body type, she was a tall teenage girl or slender woman with curly black hair. Even that could be a ruse, but he didn't think so; the mention of the girl she had murdered in school for being a bully gave him the strong impression that she was school-age too, or knew someone who was.
Then there was the head (and only known member) of her fan club, PHO username GreatAndTerribleAisha. There couldn't be
too
many Aishas in Brockton Bay, especially of school age. He envisaged a Goth teen wearing black lipstick, at least one skull tattoo, and more piercings than were healthy. If not fitting that exact description, he was certain she would stand out in some way from the common crowd. Someone with such a pretentious username and actively being a fan of Atropos couldn't be normal. It just wouldn't happen.
The trouble was, in order to follow up any of these leads, he would have to either have someone on the ground in Brockton Bay, or get a Thinker or computer expert to go online. He didn't have any one of these at the moment, but that was just a matter of time. And while he was working on that, he did have one other leverage point he could make use of.
Atropos had consistently, ever since her debut, avoided targeting innocent bystanders. Her Combat Thinker ability, he figured, must have a hand in that, seeing how she'd spared the driver of the truck Accord had sent into Brockton Bay. This was probably why the PRT ENE had adopted their current attitude (even actively stated by Bagrat) of standing back and awarding points for style.
If she started killing innocents, the PRT would have no choice but to resume putting pressure on her, thus making it harder for her to come after any members of the Elite who happened to be in town. Alternatively, if letting these innocents live meant that drugs got into Brockton Bay, she would be stressed by her failure in that regard, especially after all the song and dance she'd made about her successes. A stressed enemy was an enemy who made mistakes, and he was entirely willing to capitalise on any and all mistakes made by his enemies.
A cruel smile twisted his lips.
Time to see where your priorities really lie.
That was the beauty of the situation. Whichever way she jumped, he won.
<><>
Tenebrae
Brian parked the hire car and killed the engine. "Home sweet home. So to speak."
He was actually more appreciative of his current situation than his comment let on. As it was, he and Aisha (and Riley) had comfortable accommodations and access to a hire car, while his sister and 'cousin' were getting the educational assistance they needed; Riley was bright enough on her own merits, but her formal learning opportunities had been few and far between over the previous six years.
As the girls scrambled from the car and raced each other for the front door, Brian climbed out more sedately, grabbed the bag containing the trinkets they'd bought for each other (using
his
paycheck, he mused with a tolerant grumble) and locked the car. All in all, he knew, things could be a lot worse for him.
Given his specific circumstances, the PRT had gone with a 'carrot' rather than 'stick' approach. He had to wear an ankle monitor while out and about unsupervised (that is, not on duty) but Armsmaster had explained that this was more to satisfy the bureaucrats and ensure he wasn't using his powers out of costume than from any concern of him being a flight risk. His showing with Atropos had garnered him a quiet 'attaboy' from the higher-ups, so that was good too.
Ironically enough, the ankle monitor was actually Shadow Stalker's fault: posthumously, even. When it came out that Atropos had murdered her for being an unrepentant bully (a move that had left Brian with decidedly mixed feelings about Atropos once he was finally filled in), a quiet investigation into the school records had uncovered many reports of her being called to the principal's office for violence against her classmates. From the equally quiet explosion that had emanated from Director Piggot's office once the full extent of Stalker's perfidy had come to light, the PRT had been kept in the loop about exactly none of this.
The upshot of this, after some high-level talks among the PRT and other organisations, was that
all
such probationary Wards (including Brian, despite the fact that he had nothing to do with her actions) would be wearing the ankle-cuff for six months, which was the
absolute minimum
period before his situation could be reviewed. After that point, he'd been privately assured by the Deputy Director, they would expedite the removal of the cuff. He was personally philosophical about the whole thing; this way, he still got to take care of Aisha and Riley.
Carrying the bag, he strolled up to the now-open front door and stepped inside. Both girls already had their shoes off (he'd instituted that rule on the first day) and Riley was in the kitchen, rummaging in the fridge. Meanwhile, Aisha had flopped onto the sofa with her feet up on the coffee table, doing a damned good impression of a beached invertebrate. As he closed the door, the TV blared to life with some game show or other. Aisha liked to heckle the contestants, while Riley knew the
oddest
facts about medicine and biology.
Brian didn't like to think too hard about where she'd acquired them.
"Feet off the furniture," he said automatically, levering his own shoes off with his toes, then pulling his socks off and dropping them on top. "And turn that down a bit, please."
Aisha wrinkled her nose and stuck out her tongue at him, but the volume dropped away at the same time as her feet hit the floor. "I wasn't wearing shoes," she retorted half-heartedly.
"Which is good,
but." He kept his tone mild; this was a time for informing, not yelling. "Our living situation here will never
not
be under intense scrutiny. There are
absolutely
people out there who would
love
to take you and Riley away from me if they could prove I wasn't a fit caregiver for you two. I've even heard that Youth Guard has been making noises about my 'criminal background'. The Deputy Director is on our side, and Ms Brown isn't about to make up any dirt about us, but she
does
have to hand in a report of her observations after each visit, and if you do it while she's here, that'll be one more piece of ammunition to use against us."
She blew a raspberry, but just a small one. "Okay,
fiiine," she drawled, then her eyes lit on the bag he was carrying. "Oh, cool, you brought the stuff in. Gimme."
"Nope." Brian lowered himself into an armchair and let himself relax. "Not until you learn to say please. Ms Brown will be reporting on stuff like that, too."
Riley came back into the room, carrying three glasses of fruit punch. "He's got a point, Aish," she said earnestly. "Adults take notice when kids forget to be polite. And I don't know about you, but I like it here. It's
nice."
"Whatever happened to sister solidarity?" Aisha's voice rose in faux indignation. "You're supposed to take my side, not his." All the same, she accepted the glass that Riley offered. "Ooh, thanks."
"I notice you use manners with
Riley." Brian raised his eyebrows and gave her a dry look.
"Because she's my way cool cuz, an' you're …
you."
"Manners are still manners." Atropos stepped out of the kitchen.
"Jesus Christ!" yelped Brian, barely managing to avoid spilling the glass he'd just accepted on himself. "How did you get in here?" Belatedly, he recalled the message Aisha had gotten while they were on the Boardwalk. For some reason, he'd thought she would be
normal
and knock on the door.
Riley was equally startled, but she only slopped a little on her hands. "It's you," she breathed. "Atropos." She seemed to shrink back away from the newcomer.
"That she is, cuz." Aisha put her drink on the coffee table and jumped up, showing far more energy than she'd exhibited since walking in the front door. "So, where you been? What you been up to? Kill anyone interesting?"
Atropos chuckled. "Nobody's dead. But Ravager wishes she was."
Brian knew that name. "She's the one who's always tangling with Mouse Protector, right?" He glanced at Riley and Aisha; both were nodding.
"Yeah, we all know who she is." Aisha frowned, then looked back at Atropos. "If you didn't gank her, what did you do to her?"
"One second." Atropos turned to Riley, her whole stance somehow becoming softer and gentler. "Relax. It's all fine. I'm not here to kill you."
"Oh." Riley seemed to let out a long-held breath, slumping slightly as she did so. "I just … I just thought that if you showed up, it was because Bonesaw was coming out again and I had to die."
Atropos shook her head. "No. You're good. I'm here to see my number one fan." Moving over to the sofa, she gave Aisha a hug. "Been at least pretending to behave for your brother?"
"Meh." Aisha returned the hug. "He's annoying and nit-picky and a doofus, but I've had worse people looking after me, so I guess I can live with it. Why do you smell like Italian food?"
Atropos chuckled. "Well, that's a story. So, a little while ago, Ravager offered to pay me a million dollars to murder Mouse Protector for her."
Brian blinked. "And … you didn't?" It
seemed
to be the way the story was going, but he'd seen how very
good
she was at killing. Still, taking money for assassinating someone didn't really seem to be her style.
"Of
course
she didn't," Aisha insisted. "My girl Atropos wouldn't do something like that! She'll murder the shit out of a bad guy, but not the good guys."
"Thank you, Aisha." Atropos gave her an appreciative nod. "I wasn't about to deprive the world of a positive benefit to society like Mouse Protector, so I decided to show Ravager the error of her ways.
Without
killing her, because Mouse Protector asked me not to." Producing her phone from her pocket with a flourish, she pulled up a video clip and held it so they could see.
Curious, Brian got up and crowded in with Riley and Aisha so he could see the screen. As the footage started, he could see Atropos confronting Ravager and three mooks; Atropos was holding a shotgun and Ravager was empty-handed, but he strongly suspected that hadn't always been the case.
"I've only got beef with your boss. You can stay and die, or you can fuck off right now," announced Atropos on the screen.
"Ooh, yeah," enthused Aisha. "You tell 'em!"
Brian ignored her, watching the screen. He seriously wanted to see this.
<><>
Taylor
"Atropos …
what?"
Legend sounded thoroughly confused, which still amused me. I ended the clip before it could loop back around to the beginning, and put my phone away.
Aisha and Riley were helpless with laughter on the sofa; Brian was holding it together, but just barely. "Holy shit!" cackled Aisha. "The googly eyes! I'll never not see her with 'em now!"
Riley gasped for breath. "The … nose …" she managed, tears streaming from her eyes. "And … the ravioli … oh God … can't breathe …"
I watched as Brian took a deep breath, trying to regain some level of control. But his mouth betrayed him, curling into a grin as he let out another bark of laughter. "I will
never
see ravioli the same way again," he declared once he had a grip on himself. "But the pacifier was the best bit by far."
"'Sit. Stay.' She'll never get respect again, as long as she lives," Aisha said, still giggling. "Hope Mouse Protector was happy." She looked at me hopefully. "Can we watch that again?"
"It'll be online by tonight," I assured her. "I'll link it to my PHO post. In the meantime, I did say I'd bring back souvenirs."
"Ooh." Aisha sat up, showing considerable interest. "What'd you get?"
From the appropriate pocket, I took out the two photos I'd gotten at the time. Both had been signed by Flechette and Mouse Protector. On the back of one, Flechette had written,
'Always stand up for what you know is right.'
while on the other, Mouse Protector had put,
'Protect the ones who need protecting and you'll do okay.'
I handed Riley the one with Flechette's inscription and Aisha the one with Mouse Protector's. "Sorry," I said to Brian. "I would've gotten you one from Legend but he wouldn't stand still long enough."
"Eh," he said with a shrug. "That's okay. The Ravager takedown—"
"Ravioli," Aisha corrected him without looking up from her avid study of the photo. "Her name's Ravioli now."
"Okay, fair point." He chuckled. "The
Ravioli
takedown was definitely worth watching. How many people have seen it so far?"
"Not including you three?" I asked. "Nobody. Well, Ravioli herself and the person who filmed it, but that's it. You got the advance screening."
"Dang." Aisha looked up from the photo. "This is pretty cool. I love how you got Ravioli in the background."
"And Legend was there, and he just … let you
leave?" Riley sounded confused. "I know you've stopped a lot of villains—"
"Killed," Aisha corrected her kindly. "Killed
a lot of villains."
"Yes, thank you." Riley gave Aisha a mild jab in the ribs with her elbow, then looked back up at me. "But how did you persuade him to let you go?"
"Didn't have to." I grinned. "Since I told everyone I was going to be Ending the Endbringers, the Triumvirate have been going, 'Uh … what if she
can?' and cutting me a lot of slack. Showing restraint from time to time, and not targeting innocents, also helps there."
"Can
you?" Brian looked uncertain. "Kill an Endbringer, I mean?"
"Well, I said I'd End the illegal hard drug trade in the city, too," I noted. "Drug rehab clinics are in operation right now, with more opening tomorrow. You literally can't
get
drugs in this city right now for love nor money because what people haven't used, I've destroyed. And after the Gesellschaft bombed out with their night-time smuggling operation, there's very few with the will and the wherewithal to try."
"Yeah, Bri," jeered Aisha. "When my girl Atropos says she's gonna murder the shit out of something, it
dies." She tilted her head slightly. "So, how you gonna do it?"
Brian face-palmed. "I just got it. 'Bombed out'. You blew up the damn boat. You're terrible."
I snickered at him. "Never said I wasn't. And as for how I'm gonna End the Endbringers … it'll be with the Power of Friendship!" I might've struck a dramatic pose then, with my shears held high, just for effect. I wasn't quite sure how my power allowed me to slot the capitals in there, but it did.
This time, Aisha and Riley both face-palmed, in unison. "That's gotta be the cheesiest thing I've ever heard in my life," groaned Aisha, "and I once binged the
Lil' Mousey
show." She glanced over at Riley. "And the worst thing is, you know she'll
do
it, just to make the joke work."
"Oh, I know she can do it if she says she can." Riley looked up at me, her tone showing deep respect. "Before Dragon handed me over to the PRT to bring me here, she let me watch the footage of you taking the Nine down. I watched it through more than once, just so I could see them all die. I wouldn't have thought it possible, but you
made
it possible."
"Well, I'll let you in on a secret." I perched on the arm of the sofa. "It wasn't just me. I did it with the help of some friends. Or frenemies. And if you're willing, you could maybe help me take down some more threats and menaces."
"Wait, wait." Brian made the 'time out' gesture. "Riley hasn't even debuted yet. Image is still working on her
costume. You can't be expecting her to come out and do … I dunno, combat surgery on the bad guys?"
"Oh, no, no." I shook my head. "She doesn't have to come out. I was thinking she could make something for me right here. It won't even be lethal." I reached out and lightly booped Riley's nose with my fingertip. "And I promise to only use it on bad guys."
"Um … okay?" She seemed receptive, at least. "With everything you've done for me, it's the least I can do. What do you need?"
I smiled, and began to explain.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N 1: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.][A/N 2: I loved the PHO suggestions but it's been pointed out that five pages is a bit much, so the next time I do a PHO segment, I
will
incorporate as many as I can, but I might have to be a little selective.]
Theo AndersI miss Kayden.He didn't even know if she was alive, but he hadn't seen her since before that fateful night when he'd been awoken by the sound of shouting and running boots, and PRT troopers bursting into his bedroom. Not knowing what was going on, he'd followed their instructions implicitly. It was easier not to resist, anyway. His father had taught him that.Flex-cuffed and flanked by men armed with guns and containment foam sprayers, he'd sat through a tense interview with a PRT officer where they'd asked him a dozen times in a dozen different ways if he had powers. He'd answered in the negative, of course; to his father's then-disgust, he hadn't yet triggered with his own set of powers to add to the service of the Empire by the time it came to an end.Then they asked him if he'd known that his father was Kaiser.The use of past tense had been his first hint that his father was dead. He'd nodded numbly, still trying to make sense of all this. Of
course
he'd known. He still remembered the night he'd been taken up Captain's Hill so he could look out over the whole city while Max gave him the 'one day, all this will be yours' speech.But I don't
want
it, he'd replied.Max had ignored him, because that was how Kaiser dealt with opinions he didn't have time for. To him, they didn't exist.He'd been pulled out of his reminiscences by the officer asking another question. Why hadn't he told anyone, if he knew his father was a dangerous supervillain?Theo had looked at the officer as though he were stupid.
If you knew Max Anders, he'd said,
you would know the answer to that. Nobody crossed him.
Nobody.Not even if you were his son?Not even then.The interview had wrapped up with the officer saying something about 'Stockholm syndrome' and indicating that Theo would get therapy, and be placed in foster care. He'd been left alone then, to wander through the echoing rooms of the Anders mansion while the forensic accountants decided what were the proceeds of crime and could be confiscated, and what was legitimately earned and could be inherited. His bedroom had been thoroughly tossed, requiring him to spend more than an hour putting his personal possessions roughly back where they'd been before. That, the TV room and the kitchen were about all he had access to; there was enough food there to last him and his caretakers (appointed by the PRT) for a month at least.The comfort notwithstanding, he would have much preferred to be with Kayden in her apartment, taking care of Aster. Where he was now reminded him far too much of his father; every room, every corridor, echoed with the now-silenced criticisms.He supposed he was the last of the Anders male line; his father had had no brothers, and he knew of no uncles or great-uncles. If he failed to marry and produce an heir, it would end with him.
Good.
The two generations of evil that had gone before him deserved to vanish without trace.Passing the TV room with its insanely huge plasma TV, he ended up in his bedroom. He'd done a lap to the kitchen for something to do, but the reason for making the effort was beginning to slip from his grasp. It wasn't like he was hungry. He hadn't eaten in a while. He sat on the edge of his bed and stared at the wall. Maybe he should nap before one of the PRT did one of their regular welfare check-ups on him? That would kill some time, right?Not really feeling like a nap, he meandered out onto the balcony that adjoined his bedroom. The view wasn't quite as expansive as from the top of Captain's Hill, but it was still impressive. Or it would've been, if he hadn't seen it a thousand times before. He might sit on one of the chairs for a while—"Hey."His heart jolted in his chest for a second as he turned and saw the black-clad figure. She was leaning casually in the niche between the doorway and the balcony rail, just where she wouldn't be visible from inside the room. Her legs were crossed at the ankle and she had one hand resting on the rail, but he had no illusions about her preparedness for action.He knew who she was, of course. Ever since his father's death, his nightmares had been populated by grotesque shadowy figures that stalked him relentlessly, gleaming shears seeking his life's blood. If anything, he was surprised it had taken her so long to get to him."Atropos." His voice was empty. There was no real point in begging for his life, and he didn't care anyway. Everyone in Brockton Bay knew the truth; if Atropos came for someone, they died. "You've come to finish the job.""Seriously, wow, no." She shook her head. "Why do people I've got no reason to hurt keep thinking I'm there to kill them, with no warning? I warn people, and
then
I kill them. Maybe I should hand out business cards, or something. 'You get two warnings first'.""Oh." He was almost disappointed. "Then what are you here for?"She tilted her head. "Actually, I need a favour."He blinked as his brain finally engaged with the world again. "Wait,
what?""Favour." She flared her fingers as though promising that there was nothing up her sleeve. He was wondering if he should care. "I just need to borrow something. You'll get it back."It wasn't his intention to antagonise her, but there was something he wanted to know. "May I ask you a question first?"She didn't hesitate. "Yes."That was easy.
He'd honestly expected her to stall until she had what she wanted. "Uh ... Kayden ... Purity ... is she still alive?""What part of 'yes' didn't you understand?" She gestured out over the balcony. "I gave her the heads-up to get out of my city less than an hour before the PRT kicked her door in. She had no choice but to run for it, but she got away safely, and she and Aster are well out of state by now. She's still apparently trying to be a hero, so kudos to her. I hope she figures it out.""Oh."
She got away, but she left me behind.
He felt himself sinking back into the funk. "So, uh, what did you want to borrow?""One of your swords, actually. The Louis the Fourteenth hand-and-a-half from seventeen-oh-five. You okay with that?"Theo blinked. "Keep it. I don't care."Atropos tilted her head. "Thanks. I appreciate it.""Uh, you're welcome." The only real satisfaction he could glean out of this was that if his father were still alive, it would piss him off. And even that didn't help much.She stepped up in front of him; when she spoke next, he found her voice oddly comforting. "The best thing we can do with asshole parents is try not to turn out like them." Her fingertips pressed against his sternum, and he involuntarily looked down at them. "You're down but you're not out, Theo. You're the one still standing, not him. Don't let him take that from you too."He continued to stare at the spot where her hand had made contact, almost lost in the moment."I hope you get the help you need, man."His head came up at that, but she was already gone.With a quiet sigh, he went and sat on the end of one of the chairs and stared out at the horizon.
<><>
DannyThe back door opened to his key and he stepped inside, then locked it again. "I'm home!" he called out, just in case one of the girls had heard the door but didn't know who it was."In here!" Cherie replied from the living room."Just a second." He unlaced his boots and left them beside the door; no sense in tracking dirt through the house. "Is Taylor here too, or just you?"She looked up from the sofa as he entered the living room. "No, just me. She said she had to go to New York. I'm making sure nobody does anything stupid at any of the clinics.""Oh. Well, that's a good thing, then." He frowned. "One of the guys on the Committee seemed rather certain that there
would
be a problem, and was annoyed when there wasn't."She snorted. "Yeah, I'd kick that guy off the team if I was you. Someone
paid
a bunch of assholes to cause trouble, until I reminded them that they were more scared of Taylor than they liked money.""Son of a
bitch," he said softly. "I can't just boot him from the Committee because someone owes someone else in the Mayor's office a bunch of favours. But if we can prove that he was in on it, I can have him arrested instead.""Don't bother." She shook her head. "Taylor already knows who he is and what he's done. I'd bet money on it.""But I don't want him
dead
…" he said uncertainly.She shrugged. "If she decides to end him, she will, and then he'll be out of your hair. But if she
does
do it that way, everyone will know exactly why he's dead. We both know this.""True." He lowered himself into the armchair. "So, what's in New York?""She didn't say, but we'll definitely find out." A sudden grin crossed her face. "I find the reveal is always worth the wait. Also, she got back to town a little while ago. She's talking to people, but before you ask, I have no idea who they are."Danny sighed and rolled his eyes. "My daughter, the international woman of mystery.""You think you're joking." Halfway through smirking at him, Cherie sat up. "She's on her way back now."The last word was barely out of her mouth when a shadowy doorway formed in the middle of the living room, and Taylor stepped out of it. She was wearing her Atropos costume, which was to be expected. Less so was the sheathed sword she was carrying; it had to be at least three and a half feet long."Oh, hey," she said as the portal dissipated behind her. "No hassles with the Committee today, Dad?" Taking off her hat, she tossed it onto the sofa, followed by her mask."Just the same two troublemakers." He huffed out his breath in remembered irritation. "Cherie says Paul King paid a bunch of guys to cause problems with the clinics. Probably so he can siphon some of the money off once it gets returned to the budget.""Correct. And Janice Templeton keeps trying to push the idea of issuing physical checks instead of handing out debit cards so she can arrange for a certain number to be 'lost'." Taylor nodded. "I'll deal with it." Danny went to speak, and she raised a finger. "Non-lethally. I get it.""Thank you." He indicated the weapon she was carrying; although it looked to be in excellent condition, it was unmistakeably old. "Where did you get a
sword
from?""Oh, it's just a loaner." She grinned. "I'm going to be needing to make a point sometime soon."Both Danny and Cherie groaned at the pun, but he still had a question to ask. "And you need a sword for that?" He spread his hands in an unspoken query. "Don't you already have a large number of pointy metal things?" God knew, she could use them better than he ever could."Oh, plenty. But they're not this sword." She drew it from the sheath and held it up, apparently admiring the way the light reflected from the blade as she turned it from side to side. Then she slid it back into place with one long
sssshhhhhnk.
"Nice. Oh, and I'm gonna be making a little bit of noise downstairs for a minute or so. Won't be long."
<><>
TaylorCherie jumped up off the sofa. "I'll come down with you, if that's okay?"I shrugged. "Sure. Come on, then." She was still keeping an eye on the drug clinics, I knew, but nothing untoward was going to happen since she'd discouraged the paid troublemakers.People around the city still had small stashes of drugs; I knew that for a fact. I
also
knew that they weren't getting any more. The supply lines from out of town had been well and truly cut. Some would burn through their stashes in a day or two, while others were stringing themselves out. They would all show up at the rehab clinics sooner or later, but they wouldn't all run out on the same day, so the clinics would not be overwhelmed.All according to plan."You know," I said idly as Cherie followed me down into the basement, "if there's one thing about being Atropos that's
totally
different from my life before, it's the way I keep running into people who've been seriously fucked over by being in close proximity with villain capes during their formative years. I mean, look at you and Heartbreaker."It wasn't just Cherie; Theo had been messed up in the head by Kaiser, and Riley had been severely brainwashed by her replacement parental figure, in the form of Jack Slash. Even Amy Dallon had the same problem from the other direction, due to her mother's fixation on who her father was (puh-leeze. His peccadillos as a murdering gangster aside, Marquis had been
ten
times the parent Carol Dallon was).The Laborns were the odd pair out; it was Celia's perfectly normal drug addiction that had messed up Aisha's head. And Brian's powers and the constraints of his circumstances had more or less forced him into villainy, though to his credit he was trying to be a good male role model."The people you visited before you came home?" Cherie guessed. "So, it's not just me you're trying to help, then." It was a statement, not a question."Well, no." At the bottom of the stairs, I headed over to the entrance to the old coal-chute. Taking the cover off, I stashed the sword inside and put the cover back on. Then I went to the work-bench, where the angle-grinder lay next to the vise. "You're just the one who gets to sleep on my lumpy sofa bed."While their individual circumstances were improving, largely due to my actions, there were many more out there with similar (or worse) problems. I couldn't fix all their situations individually, but I
could
do what I was currently doing, which was improve matters as a whole throughout Brockton Bay. And with Dad helming the Committee that was making use of the Slaughterhouse payout, I didn't even have to spend time figuring out how to do that, or spend effort toward making it happen.Delegation. It was more than just a corporate buzz-word."Pfft, it's not
that
lumpy," she said with a grin. "And I'm pretty sure I've already said my living conditions could be a
lot
worse.""True, true." Taking Ravager's (Ravioli's) double-barrel sawn-off from inside my coat, I broke it open and unloaded it, then put it in the vise and tightened the jaws until I was sure it wouldn't come loose."Wait, what?" Cherie stared at the firearm. "Why did you have to go all the way to New York just to get a shotgun? I'm pretty sure that gun shop owner would've picked out any of his stock and cut it down especially for you, for free and all.""You'll see, once I show you and Dad the footage." With that, I handed her goggles and ear protectors, and put a set of each on myself. Angle-grinders were
loud,
and high-speed metal fragments in the eye were no joke. As I spun the disc up and ran it down along the barrel of the shotgun, skipping and turning it exactly where I needed to, I considered my next move.Even with all the help I was getting, there was some stuff I had to do on my own, mainly because nobody else could connect all the dots like I could. Bastard Son was still in the planning stage, but I was going to let him plan all he liked. I was going to let him send people into the city to gather information, though he wouldn't get what he wanted out of that.When he actually came at me and mine, I would stop him, but only then. It was the same reasoning I'd used in the extremely public executions of Lung, Kaiser and Skidmark: people only feared a consequence if they saw it happen to someone else. If I stepped into Bastard Son's presence and put a bullet in the back of his head while he was plotting in his hideout, nobody would
notice.
It would be a waste of a perfectly good cautionary tale.Better to let him activate his plans, allow him to be seen, and
then
stop him. And of course, I was taking note of his various side-plans. The intent to kill me was par for the course; I wasn't even going to hold that against him, apart from the fact that he
was
going to die. But going after my father, after Aisha, after Cherie?He was getting
special
attention for that.
<><>
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♦ Topic: RIP RavagerIn: Boards ► Brockton Bay ► New Capes ► AtroposAtropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me)Posted On Jan 14th 2011:Hello to my faithful fans!Midnight has struck once more. Yesterday was a somewhat different day than my norm. No blood has been spilled, no corpse of my making will decorate a morgue, yet murder has been done.The sad and sorry tale (your mileage may vary) began not so long ago, when a certain B-list supervillain reached out to me, in the hopes that I would rid her of her nemesis.The screenshot of the chat log can be found [here].So today I took myself off to the Big Apple, where I found the person in question, in the process of robbing a jewelry store.Okay, so I was waiting for her to come in, but that's more or less my thing. She really should have been expecting me.(To paraphrase the old Chuck Norris meme: I don't chase. I *wait*).The ensuing confrontation can be seen [here], and the downloaded security footage [here] (involuntarily supplied by PRT New York - thanks, guys!). The latter shows a few more angles, but without sound.The Funniest Home Video version, with the swears edited out and humorous sound effects edited in, can be found [here]. She's never been so famous.So, as you can see, Ravager is *dead* (or wishes she was). In her place, now and forevermore, is Ravioli. In fact, I might have heard a whisper that Ravioli is one of the aliases that she's going to be tried under.What do you say, guys? Has her credibility been Ended for all time?(And Ravioli? If you're harboring secret plans to go back to that shop, or attack that shop assistant, for some kind of revenge ... don't. I'll know, and I'll be waiting with my good friend Mr Pump Action Shotgun to have a conversation with you about how Kneecaps Are A Privilege).Oh, and just by the way, Bastard Son of the Elite has decided that he can take me. Even now, he is laying his dastardly plans. (This is an official warning not to).As for the rest of you wonderful people, have a safe and fulfilling day.Toodles!(Showing page 1 of 19)
►Bagrat
(Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)Replied On Jan 14th 2011:Holy Mary, mother of God.I would ask exactly what Ravager (sorry, sorry—Ravioli) did to offend Atropos, but it seems the answer is clear. What's also abundantly clear is that death is *not* the worst punishment she can mete out.Any reputation, any credibility, any *anything* Ravioli ever had is dead and gone.She can't even claim bragging rights for surviving the fight, because Mouse Protector very clearly requested that Atropos not kill her.So, I'm going to say this yet again for the hard of thinking:Don't challenge Atropos. Killing you is not the worst she can do. Not even close.I leave you all with that oh so pleasant thought.Gotta say though, this is the first time one of her videos made me laugh out loud.PS: Bastard Son, you idiot. Don't. Just ... don't.
►BigMouthFishReplied On Jan 14th 2011:That reputation didn't just die, it was murdered, buried, exhumed, cremated, mixed with glitter, and then tossed out of a plane to be literal Dust in the Wind all on camera with Yakety Saxx playing.And just as we finished off one challenger, another has decided to step up to the plate! Bastard Son, it appears we have an award waiting for you in Brockton from some guy named Darwin.
►Darwin_Award_Committee
(Verified Darwin Award Committee)Replied On Jan 14th 2011:It has been decided by our committee that any deaths resulting from blatantly ignoring a direct warning by Atropos will officially be classed as deliberate suicide and thus be ineligible for an Award. Anyone punished in a non-lethal fashion (such as this one) will, however, be given Honorable Mention status.
►BrickFrogReplied On Jan 14th 2011:Hahahaha WHAT?
►SikanReplied On Jan 14th 2011:For those slow on the uptake, normal FAFO is linear. You Find Out in direct proportion to how much you Fuck Around. With Atropos FAFO is *exponential*. The rate of Find Out increases so once you pass the critical threshold of Fuck Around very little more brings very much more Finding Out.
►GreatAndTerribleAisha
(Verified Head of Atropos Fan Club)Replied On Jan 14th 2011:Okay, so my girl Atropos is OFFICIALLY so scary that even the Darwin award guys rate going up against her as suicide.DA-yum.
►TwoFacedCatReplied On Jan 14th 2011:Seeing as I am apparently the only one brave and/or stupid enough to be asking Atropos questions beyond 'Hopy Ship How Did You Do THAT?!', I shall now take it upon myself to represent today's youths and their inevitable interests in the practices of social and interpersonal dynamics. Allow me a moment to get into the mindset of the abstract stereotypical teenager lounging at their phone far away from threat and consequences.Ahem-hem hemmm...OMG Atriops u r sooooooooooooooooo cool! r u teh gayz or teh straits or boof? o do u hav a harem? wut do u looq 4 n a pardnar? uhav any turnofs? Ima rite a fic wer u and [INSERT CELEBRITY CAPE HERE] hav sloppy makouts!(In all seriousness, please do not react poorly to the inevitable shipping, Atropos. Humans are social and imaginative creatures, and you yourself know full well some people don't know when to stop. You would not believe some of the death porn out there...)
►Reave
(Verified PRT Agent)Replied On Jan 14th 2011:@Atropos - thank you for holding off until midnight, so I could see the security footage for myself.We at the PRT have taken note of the restraint you exercised, but I'm reasonably certain R doesn't appreciate it.So instead I'll thank you in her place, for doing as Mouse Protector asked.As always, my door is open (by now, I'm certain you know where it is) if you ever want to come in for a sit-down.
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me)Replied On Jan 14th 2011:@GreatAndTerribleAisha - School night. Don't make me call your brother. (Though yeah, it is pretty cool).@TwoFacedCat - I appreciate the concern. I shall ignore them as needed.@Reave - you're welcome. Not today, but I appreciate the offer (by the way, I watered your plants for you).
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►GreatAndTerribleAisha
(Verified Head of Atropos Fan Club)Replied On Jan 14th 2011:This is an automated message. This user is asleep and has been for hours.You saw nothing.
►EdBaccaratReplied On Jan 14th 2011:If we hadn't seen what happened to Ravioli, this would be a Noodle Incident.But I think Atropos went far pasta that line.
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me)Replied On Jan 14th 2011:Well let's face it - I'd penne'd it down back when Rava- sorry, Ravioli tried to hire me. So Ravioli tortellini deserved it.
►Mouse_Protector
(Verified Cape) (Veteran Member) (Independent Hero) (Verified Atropos Fan)Replied On Jan 14th 2011:@Atropos - Can I steal that? It was really gouda. Also, thanks once more for the hit on Ravioli's credibility. That footage was *(pasta) chef's kiss*.
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me)Replied On Jan 14th 2011:@Mouse_Protector - Farfalle-ing instructions, sure! And you're welcome.
►EdBaccaratReplied On Jan 14th 2011:Glad you got permission from Atropos, MP. We wouldn't want her cheesed off with you. :D
►FauxDemonReplied On Jan 14th 2011:@EdBaccarat - I mean, MP got plenty of things from that failed heist to take as a trofie :) If nothing else she can share the pic to any Ravioli fans, drive emmental :p
►hjcallipygianReplied On Jan 14th 2011:@Sikan - Rather, I propose that Atropos provides a binary amount of Find Out: either None or Complete. You have either attracted Atropos's attention, in which case you shall Fully Find The Fuck Out, or you have not. This is the only value which she provides.
►TangleReplied On Jan 14th 2011:I must say that I usually don't like pratfall and slapstick humor (I used to - I'm old enough to remember the Three Stooges, let alone Steve Martin and Chevy Chase), but I about busted my gut watching Ravioli's lifestyle change.Still, I think we learned something new about Atropos here. Beyond the fact that messing with Brockton Bay gets you a paddlin' (or more likely a gankin'), doing something nice for Brockton Bay (or at least agreeing to do so ahead of time) gets you OUT of a paddlin'.Ravioli tried to pay Atropos to kill someone who Atropos stated was a net gain for society. Atropos not only said no, but turned around and offered her services to Ravioli's target, Mouse Protector. And so, for the low price of a charity visit to a children's cancer ward in Brockton Bay, Ravioli earned herself a lifestyle change. I have no doubt in my mind that, had Mouse Protector Not requested that Atropos not kill Ravioli, Ravioli would have ended up most sincerely and very completely dead at the end of what we just watched. So good on you, MP.And just how dumb can Ravioli be? I mean, there's clear evidence that Atropos does NOT care about money, and she tries to hire the deadliest killer around to take out Mouse Protector? That'd be just about as dumb as trying to hire the Slaughterhouse Nine (hope their relocation to Hell is everything they deserve) to do... well, anything! Maybe even dumber because Atropos nixed the ninnies!
►BattleLoafReplied On Jan 14th 2011:No one ever accused her of being smart. This is the same Stooge who regularly picks fights with MP, despite the Mouse-themed defender of justice constantly, and repeatedly, clowning on her.I mean, Our Lady of Murder took it to another level with her slapstick routine, but it's just an increase of scale. Ravioli has been bumbling her idiot self into the role of unintentional joke-villain for a while now.
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►TwoFacedCatReplied On Jan 14th 2011:So now I'm wondering about a hypothetical world where Atropos decided to put on a magician's suit instead of a pinstripe one. A comedian whose act is killer.
►Underwater_FlowerReplied On Jan 14th 2011:I can't believe nobody is talking about Bastard Son.If he's still planning to take on Atropos, he must be one stupid bastard.
►FroggyMojoReplied On Jan 14th 2011:Arrogance combined with power both para and otherwise can cause any motherfucker to become pants on head stupid.
►AntAuthorReplied On Jan 14th 2011:@TwoFacedCat - And for my next trick, I'll make this villain disappear, with this magic woodchipper!@FroggyMojo - It's even worse, because the pants are also soaked/filled with diarrhea and piss, yet they insist on putting them on their heads anyways. And then they act surprised when the liquid poop and piss gets into their eyes and mouth.
►WingsOnHigh
(Verified Not the Simurgh)Replied On Jan 14th 2011:*Vague angry disgust noises at having to read that*
►AntAuthorReplied On Jan 14th 2011:It's true though! There's so much proof about how effective Atropos is at Ending Things that anyone who, at this moment, still thinks "meh, I can take her", is soo blind/stupid/arrogant that it is beyond "pants on head stupid". We are now at the level of the pants now being soaked in toilet contents, and them putting those horribly soiled pants on their heads anyway stupid.To put it another way, this isn't normal stupid. This is....*ADVANCED STUPID*.
►TwoFacedCatReplied On Jan 14th 2011:It is theoretically possible to kill Atropos.It is also theoretically possible to extinguish the sun.
►WingsOnHigh
(Verified Not the Simurgh)Replied On Jan 14th 2011:If it weren't for, ya know, the era of superpowers I'd say just wait 80 years or so. As it stands, even without whatever new cape power pops up Atropos would probably kill "Bad lifestyle habits" for herself and outlive everyone the normal way. Be that tough as hell, scary 118 y/o lady who drinks whiskey at every meal and beats people with her cane if they do stupid shit. And the cane is just to give you a chance.
►AntAuthorReplied On Jan 14th 2011:Dollars to doughnuts that the cane has a sword hidden in it too, for when someone is behaving soo poorly that they need a gouda skewering.
►DoctorHooTheOwlReplied On Jan 14th 2011:What was it that Einstein said once? Ah, yes! "Two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity; and I'm not sure about the universe."Really, at this point there's going to be a new category specifically for "Death by Atropos" in the Darwin Awards.I, for one, am eagerly pondering who wins first place.
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►IWarnedYouReplied On Jan 14th 2011:@DoctorHooTheOwl - Maybe you missed it earlier, but the Darwin Award folks weighed in on it and said that death by Atropos was being counted as suicide, but non-lethal punishments would be Honorable Mentions.@TwoFacedCat - I see what you did there. Though hopefully she doesn't pull a rabbit out of her hat... because it won't be a harmless bunny.
►AeturnumSPQR
(Unverified Immortal)Replied On Jan 14th 2011:@WingsOnHigh - Eh give it time. Afterall she only has a human lifespan and what is threescore and ten years? Hardly an eyeblink in geological terms.
►UnconcernedFoxReplied On Jan 14th 2011:*lugs another barrel of popcorn in, and starts the footage running again*
►AtrimReplied On Jan 14th 2011:You do realize there's at least two capes that are theoretically immortal right? Alabaster eternally resets, and there was that one S9 member (before Atropos got to them).Not to mention the average Case 53. No one knows if they die of old age.Plus if those rumors about Panacea are true that's a whole nother ball game.
►AeturnumSPQR
(Unverified Immortal)Replied On Jan 14th 2011:Immortality is a CURSE. It is unnatural. Man was not meant to live centuries. To quote one show the secret to Immortality is this. "If you win, you lose. If you lose, you win."
►NinetyNineShadowsReplied On Jan 14th 2011:Hey, if immortality does end up being a curse, they have all the time in the world to change their mind and find somewhere to die.
►HorsefishReplied On Jan 14th 2011:Hey, anybody else feel like pasta? I suddenly have a hankering. And some grana padano in the fridge...
►MostlyInsaneWriterReplied On Jan 14th 2011:I see Ravioli is now Past it ... Yes, I'm terrible. But Honestly? Ravioli is probably going to have to choose a new career. Would the laws governing how capes use their powers stop her from being recruited to taking part in a slapstick comedy act? Because that's all she's going to be able to do from now on.
►KeijiAsukaReplied On Jan 14th 2011:@IWarnedYou - It may LOOK harmless, but if anyone but her got too close, it would probably tear their heads clean off. I mean, she'd probably pull out the Killer Beast of Caerbannog.
►TwoFacedCatReplied On Jan 14th 2011:Dude, real rabbits can bite you through the hand. Never underestimate something just because it's cute.
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►AeturnumSPQR
(Unverified Immortal)Replied On Jan 14th 2011:Cats as well. A cat is an assassin by trade. It attacks from ambush. It will go for the throat. Where if the prey is much smaller than itself it will find the vertebrae in the neck and separate them or is will go for the front and crush the animals windpipe. Then there are the four sets of claws a cat has.Anyway, I do wonder what they will charge Ravioli with this time. Public Nuisance? Repeat Offender as in she keeps offending people? Being a crime against nature?
►BigTopperReplied On Jan 14th 2011:Attempted Robbery there on the day, getting foiled counts if it's after you've started the crime. Plus whatever outstanding warrants there are on file. And after that humiliation she'll probably admit to anything they put to her in questioning so's to have a good long time out of the public eye in a nice quiet jail somewhere. Which will help along the NY PRT's clear-up rate, so everyone's a winner.Except Ravioli, who lost. Hard.
►TotallyMadsReplied On Jan 14th 2011:@TwoFacedCat - Please stop with the butchering of the language.Atropos will legitimately defend grammar. With lethal force.
►TwoFacedCatReplied On Jan 14th 2011:Are you sure? I mean she's friends with GTA, and I've seen some of her posts...
►BigTopperReplied On Jan 14th 2011:After her non-lethal performance against Ravioli, we now know that lethal force is her being *merciful*.
►EdBaccaratReplied On Jan 14th 2011:And now, we know Ravioli's first name is Dee. [long pause] Short for Boy-Ar... ;)
►OtakuAnonymousReplied On Jan 14th 2011:That's unfair. Besmirching the name of the late, great Ettore (Hector) Boiardi (Boyardee). His legacy of the Gold Star of the Order of Excellence, spreading the love of Italian cuisine and making life easier for struggling parents to feed their kids should not be tainted by the reputation - or lack thereof - of Ravioli the failed Villain Cape.Also, I am now wondering about how many pasta puns Mouse Protector will work into her future. That and if Atropos' latest victim will now make noodles part of her daily rotini...
►EdBaccaratReplied On Jan 14th 2011:At this point we're just milking the joke. But that's just the whey we roll here on PHO. We're the pro-tein where puns are concerned.
►OtakuAnonymousReplied On Jan 14th 2011:Ramen to that! Think of all the pastabilities. They mac (and cheese) me smile! Can't wait for all the PHO-natics to really go for it. The pesto's yet to come for SURE.
►EdBaccaratReplied On Jan 14th 2011:I wonder what else they'll get get her on?Impersonation of a can of pasta?
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PRIVATE MESSAGETo: AtroposFrom: TheRealPanaceaSubject: Can we talk?I've been thinking a lot about what you said to me, and I tried it out, and it kind of worked, but now I need to know … how much am I allowed to do before you start looking in my direction?Amy
■
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N 1: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
On a Private Jet, Flying EastBastard Son"What part of 'abduct someone' was not perfectly clear?"This was the problem with talking to his people over the phone. Face to face, his Master ability served to cut the whole 'second thoughts' bullshit off at the pass. But when he was at a remove, he had to work with whatever hold it still had on his minions, without the option of reinforcing it as needed.Fortunately, he'd already thought this problem through. The car they were driving had been rigged up by people he knew were damn well loyal to him. All these idiots had to do was carry out his damn
instructions, and everything would be okay. For him, not for them."But women? Kids? That sort of thing gets you in real deep shit with the Feds, and Atropos is like to shoot us straight in the head if she catches us …"The guy was wavering, though he was holding firm on that sticking point. Mooks had the weirdest hangups."Listen, it'll be a one-and-done." He breathed deeply, trying to sell the lie. "Nobody gets hurt. Think of them as insurance. Nobody's gonna start a firefight if there's kids in the car. The only thing you have to do, if Atropos stops you, is let me know that it's happened. That's
it.
After that, you can go ahead and surrender." And they would, too. Because for all their bravado, they believed Atropos' hype.He knew better. Nobody was that good, except maybe his people.
And of course, me.The trick with any cape was to hit them where it hurt. Lacking current information on Atropos' friends and family (though he would find that out sooner or later) he'd decided to attack her reputation. She had reacted extremely violently to every attempt to bring drugs into Brockton Bay, but she'd spared innocents. So he would set up a catch-twenty-two for her.The men who were driving into Brockton Bay only thought they were transporting drugs. They would follow his orders to abduct women and kids, on the understanding that the hostages would be released at the end of the journey. But the car had been rigged with explosives, and he held the remote trigger.If Atropos interfered with his shipment in
any
way, the whole damn thing would blow. And once innocents were dead, it wouldn't matter how blameless she was in the matter, her rep would be forever tarnished. He had people online who would make sure of that.It was how he always worked, striking at people from unexpected angles, then fading away as they tried to strike back. He'd never once failed to bring his enemy down in this way.And if she was a Thinker, aware of the explosives and hostages ahead of time? It honestly didn't matter. If she held back in the understanding that there was no winning scenario for her, he'd have the
only
pipeline of drugs into a city starved of them. The news that she'd failed to keep drugs out of Brockton Bay would spread like wildfire, and her rep would take a hit of a totally different nature.Either way, she'd lose and he'd win.Checkmate, bitch.
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PRIVATE MESSAGETo: TheRealPanaceaFrom: AtroposSubject: Re: Can we talk?Let's skip all the back and forth, and potential miscommunications. Pick a place where you're comfortable talking to me, be there at (say) ten tonight, and we'll chat.Oh, and bring your friend. I definitely want to meet him.Atropos
■
<><>
Outside a Shopping Mall on I-95Kayleen Hoskins, HousewifeKayleen hummed to herself as she packed the groceries in the trunk of the car. She preferred to do the weekly shopping on a Friday afternoon; that way, the weekend was free and she didn't have the rush and bother on a Monday. Sean, at ten, liked to help her with the groceries and put the cart away after, while Bella and Marie fussed at each other in the back seat. Twin seven-year-olds could be a hassle at times, but at least they hadn't gotten in the habit of swapping their clothing around to fool her.The roar of an engine alerted her, and she drew back alongside the car with Sean before she even looked around. The groceries didn't matter; if someone was driving recklessly, they needed to be out of the way.It wasn't a young idiot driving stupidly, though. When the sedan screeched to a halt behind her car, the men who got out were middle-aged and carrying guns. Guns that were immediately pointed at her and Sean.
What …?"You two!" barked one of the men. "Get over here! Now!"Kayleen's mind went blank. She'd never even
considered
that she might ever be kidnapped, but now it was happening. If it had just been her, she might've made a break for it, but Sean seemed to be even more frozen than she was, and one of the men had a gun pointed right at his head."Mommy …?" That was Bella, from inside the car. Both girls—she dared a quick sideways glance—were kneeling up on the back seat, staring out through the window.No. They can't take them too.
Terror for her daughters galvanised her lungs.For the last few years, she'd instilled in them one thing they should always do. If a stranger approached them and tried to make them go somewhere, they should 'run to cop'. Find a security guard or a police officer or a superhero and run to him."Bella, Marie!" she screamed. "Run-to-cop! Run-to-cop!"They could be as irritating as any other kid of that age, but
this
time they did as they were told. Bailing out of the car faster than she could've managed it, they bolted back toward the shopping mall, where the security guard stood outside the front doors. An overweight older man, he probably couldn't do much against the two gunmen, but he
could
protect her daughters and call 911."Yeah, nicely done," growled the one who had the pistol pointed at her. "Now you and the boy, get here now." He held up a bunch of heavy-duty zip-ties. "Nobody does anythin' stupid, nobody gets hurt. We're goin' for a car ride."Stumbling forward with Sean at her side, all Kayleen could think of was,
at least the girls are safe.
<><>
Hebert Household BasementTaylorIn the back of my brain, I mulled over Bastard Son's plans, working out the best way to bring them to a screeching halt. Killing him was the quickest and easiest way, as my power cheerfully pointed out, but of course it was also good to make an
example. Ironic deaths were so very useful for that. They caught
everyone's
attention.I had the electrical bits and pieces that I'd used to make the remote releases for Kaiser's
katzbalger
out on the bench again, and I'd warmed the soldering iron up. With the goggles snuggled down over my eyes, I whistled absently as I attached an alligator clip to the end of a three-foot piece of wire. It was already screwed into place, but I wanted the connection to be
solid."So, what's this for?" asked Cherie. She was wearing an identical pair of goggles, watching my handiwork with interest."To be honest, I have no idea," I confessed. "But my power says I'm gonna need 'em, so I'm making 'em."Cherie eyed the piece of wire, then the three near-identical ones I'd already put together, with a clip on each end. Beside them lay the two-way radio I'd used for the truck intercept on the highway, once upon a time. I'd done some work on it, too. "Well, far be it from me to question your power on anything. Even
my
power seems to consider it a bad idea to mess with you."I grinned at her. "That's the general idea."The basement door opened, and Dad came down a few steps. "Hey, kids. How's it going down here?"Lifting the soldering iron away from my work, I turned toward him and flipped the dark lenses up. "Hi, Dad. We're doing fine. What's up?"He gestured up toward the door and the kitchen beyond. "Whenever you're finished down here, dinner's nearly ready.""Cool. We'll be done here in a minute." I flipped the lenses back down as he retreated up the stairs.Cherie shook her head. "It's still totally weird to me that your dad cooks. And that he's good at it.""Well, I take my turn too," I reminded her. "And you can too, if you want to. Just let us know what ingredients you need.""I just might do that." Her tone was speculative. I knew this was because when she'd cooked for her father, he'd punished her for getting the slightest thing wrong.Things were different here, I mused as I bent over the alligator clip again. She was learning that, but I still didn't want to rush her.One thing at a time.
<><>
9:55 PMPanaceaI must be insane to be even considering this.Dressed in her darkest hoodie and jeans, Amy skulked down the side-street, keeping a careful eye all around. She wasn't worried about being attacked; if even one
tenth
of the rumours about Atropos were true, she was the safest person in the city right now. Her concern lay with being spotted by someone who might recognise her and ask what Panacea was doing out and about at this time of night.They might also be curious about the carefully wrapped bundle she was carrying, but that would only become a real problem when she was handed back to Carol and Mark. Carol would
definitely
want to know what it was, second only to where Amy thought she was going. And when she found out either one … Amy didn't really know how she was going to react, but 'well' did not appear on the list of possible options. Somewhere between 'angry' and 'apocalyptic' was her best guess.Normally she wouldn't even have considered coming to this area of town without at least Vicky in attendance, but she hadn't seen a fresh Merchants tag in days, and she'd heard that the drug rehab clinics were going well.A police cruiser rolled through the intersection in front of her, and she froze until it was past. This was actually another good sign; prior to Atropos' debut, the police would never have come into this area without serious backup. The word about the stimulus payments had also gone out, and she suspected everyone was staying put and not doing anything that might get them arrested, for fear of missing out.Crossing the intersection, she walked another half-block until she came to a small neighbourhood park. It was here that she'd done her first healing 'in the wild', as it were, of a gangbanger who'd been shot in the leg during a dustup with the ABB. She'd been so nervous that she totally forgot to ask his permission to heal him, or use any of the other bedside-manner phrases that she'd been trained in. Once he was healed, the young man had been taken away to be presumably charged and arraigned.She'd never even asked his name.Sticking to the clear areas of the path—she probably wouldn't get infected if she trod on a used needle, but getting a sharp bit of metal in her foot would hurt like hell anyway—she reached the circular bench in the middle and sat down. The bundle in her arms, she set down on the bench beside her."Okay, then," she muttered, and pulled out her phone to send the message to Atropos saying where she was. "Time to do something that's probably really stupid." It wasn't that
she
thought so, not really, but Carol's views on the matter were clear to everyone in the household, and constant repetition had a way of colouring her opinions."Oh, I don't know." The warmly amused voice came from just behind her. "We've all done things that are way stupider than this."Amy froze, then turned slowly. Atropos was seated a little way around the circle from her, just far enough to be out of her peripheral vision. Between the morph mask and the hat shading her face from the weak street-lighting, there was no way of even guessing her expression, but Amy would've bet her college fund that the remorseless killer was grinning broadly."You did that on purpose!" she accused Atropos. "Christ, are you
trying
to give me a heart attack?""Yes, I did, and no, I'm not." The amusement had not left Atropos' tone. "If I was going to do something like that, I would've done it to Heartbreaker. Anyway, as I was saying, what you're doing right now proves you're smarter than literally
every
cape who's gone up against me so far.""Yeah, like that's a high bar." Amy didn't care that Atropos knew she was still feeling somewhat aggrieved. "Pulling a jump-scare like that every time makes you feel like you've got power over everyone else, does it?"Atropos appeared to consider that for a moment. "You have a point," she admitted. "I do it mainly because I can, and to remind even the most vigilant capes that I can in fact sneak up on them. But let's be serious here—"She vanished from the bench between one word and the next. Amy looked around in surprise—New Wave had been briefed on the 'smoky doorway' Atropos had used to get away from Velocity and to leave New York, but she'd seen no such thing this time—as the dark figure strolled toward her along the path, still talking. The long-coat flared briefly in the breeze."—you'd still consider an entrance like this to be needlessly dramatic, so I can't really win. In other words, yes, I'm doing this for fun, not to try to impress you or scare you." She reached the bench again and sat down beside Amy. "So, let's take it from the top. You want to talk to me and make sure that the things you're doing with your power aren't going to piss me off, and I just want to have a chat and see how you're doing. Does that sound about right?"Amy blinked. "… yes?" Instead of denying her motives, Atropos had more or less admitted that Amy was correct. But then something she'd said caught Amy's attention. "Wait, you want to see how
I'm
doing? Aren't you supposed to be all gung-ho about Brockton Bay as a city, not any one person in particular? I mean, sure, I'm a healer, but even I can't put all that big a dent in the sick and injured population of Brockton Bay.""Yes and no." Atropos leaned forward slightly. "I care about
some
people in Brockton Bay, but not many. The city is indeed my greater concern. However, you're capable of helping me effect change for the better, out of all proportion to your healing capability. Also, if your issues were allowed to continue to fester, you could
absolutely
cause problems I'd rather not have to deal with. Thus, this conversation."The allusion to problems sent a chill down Amy's spine. She had a very good idea how Atropos dealt with 'problems', and those who caused them. "Um," she began."That wasn't a warning, by the way." Atropos's tone was light. "Just an observation, and an answer to your question. So, can I see what you've brought along?""Um. Okay." Amy was
almost
certain that Atropos already knew what it was, but this was the first time she'd shared it with
anyone.
Her throat was dry and her pulse almost audible in her ears as she picked up the bundle and carefully began to unwrap it. "Please just … benefit of the doubt, okay?""Totally." Atropos watched intently as the cloth came off.The plant pot full of dirt hadn't been light, but she'd managed. Covering the top of it was an inverted bowl, which she took off last of all. There, revealed in the dim light afforded by the street lighting, was the tennis-ball sized fungus she'd created.Then it started to wake up. Slowly, it uncurled from its somnolent position, revealing the oversized 'head' and the two arms; the bottom end of the 'torso' was firmly planted in the dirt. The large eyes blinked as it looked around, then it stretched mightily, its mouth gaping wide in a parody of a yawn. It couldn't talk (yet, as she was still working on the equivalent of lungs and vocal chords) but she'd decided that a non-working mouth was far less creepy than no mouth at all. It had a tiny button nose for the same reason."Okay, that's cuter than I expected," Atropos observed. "How—"The mushroom baby (as Amy privately called it) reacted to Atropos' voice, turning and staring up at her, then immediately curling up into its sleep posture, arms wrapped around its head. A moment later, one arm shifted and it peeked out at her."Shh," Amy crooned, stroking its back with her fingertip. "Sh-sh-shhh. She's a friend. She's not going to hurt you …
are
you?" Raising her eyes to Atropos' face, she gave the other girl a challenging look that she would never have dared use on her own account."Nope. Not here to hurt anyone. In fact, I'm mightily impressed. He can see, hear and
think." Atropos tilted her head to one side. "Or did you program all that in as autonomic responses?""… some of it, yes," Amy admitted. "He knows not to come out if he hears strangers around. But he can learn, too. And he understands nearly everything I say."Slowly, the mushroom baby emerged again, and gave Atropos a tentative wave. Atropos returned it and the fungus creature smiled, staring up at her."So how did you fit all that in?" Atropos peered more closely at it. "That head can't be bigger than a ping-pong ball.""I cheated," admitted Amy. "His brain isn't in his head. He's got an incredibly dense mycelium network underground, and I repurposed that as a neural network.""Huh. And this guy's the only one you've got?""No, actually. I've got a terrarium in my room with a couple more. Also, a lizard I got from the pet store, for protective camouflage."Atropos nodded. "So everyone looks at the lizard, and not at the fungus guys. Neat.""That's the idea, yeah." Amy glanced down at the mushroom baby and saw that it was playing one of its little games, sorting bits of shell and gravel into patterns in the dirt in front of it. Raising her gaze to Atropos, she asked the question she knew she had to. "So, am I going to be in trouble if I keep doing this?""Not in the slightest." Atropos shook her head to emphasise the point. "Whose idea was it to make these? Yours or your power's?""My power's, I think." Amy thought back, trying to recall the exact sequence of events. "I already made the grass in the back yard go fluorescent for a few seconds, so then I found a mushroom and asked my power what it wanted to do with that. I think it's been having fun, and so have I. In between moments of abject terror about being caught out, of course.""Don't be scared of me, without due cause." Atropos spoke firmly. "If you're doing something I don't like, I'll totally warn you. In the meantime, I
want
you to exercise your power. Do fun things. Do silly things. Stretch that muscle. And if you need to talk about anything, I'm willing to listen." Her tone became light-hearted. "Just be aware that if you're ever tempted to take over Brockton Bay as your own personal biokinetic fiefdom, I
will
be forced to take notice.""Ha ha ha, nope." Amy shook her head. "Hard pass.""Oh, good." Atropos' head came up. "Hm. It appears Bastard Son has moved up the timetable a little. I'm going to have to go.""Oh, um, I'll be fine." Amy shrugged. "I got here okay, didn't I? Or is there something I can do to help?"Atropos looked at her. "No, I can handle it, thanks. But Vicky's also going to knock on your door in about one minute to talk to you about moving on and rebranding once Brockton Bay gets too safe for all the heroes we've got.""Shit!" Amy's eyes went wide, and the sense of impending doom that had been hovering over her all evening (to be fair, she
usually
had a sense of impending doom) slammed down around her. "I need to call her, so she doesn't tell Carol and Mark—!""Chill. I've got this." Atropos stood up and did something with her arm. Amy could've almost sworn, in the silence that hung around, that she heard tiny electronic beeps. Then a cover clicked shut, and Atropos gestured toward an empty spot next to Amy. Between one second and the next, a smoky doorway formed in mid-air. "Forty seconds. Go."Hastily, Amy grabbed up the plant-pot, the bowl and the wrapping cloth. "What do I have to do?""Just step through. Thirty seconds.""Thanks." The next words were ones she hadn't wanted to say, but they were true all the same. "I owe you one." Atropos could so easily have just let her face the music."I know. Twenty-five seconds."Taking a deep breath—she knew damn well that if Atropos wanted to kill her, there were many other ways to do it, but it was still a huge leap of faith—Amy stepped through the portal. The dimly lit park vanished, to be replaced by the familiar surroundings of her room.
Holy shit, it worked.Hastily, she placed the pot next to the aquarium. "Go to sleep," she whispered. The mushroom baby obediently curled up, becoming an unremarkable fungus once more.Next, she dragged off the hoodie over her head and hurled it at the laundry hamper in the corner of the room. Then the knock came on the door, just as she was toeing her sneakers off. "Ames? You awake?"She hastily rolled into bed, trying not to make the mattress springs creak too much, ignoring the fact that she was still wearing her jeans. The t-shirt, at least, would pass as sleepwear. "Yeah," she replied as she pulled the covers into place. "What's up?"Vicky opened the door and sidled in, then carefully closed it behind her so the latch didn't click. "Couldn't sleep. Wanted to talk. You know how I've been thinking about rebranding and moving on?""Kinda, yeah." Amy moved over and patted the edge of the bed. "What's Carol think about it?""She's not a fan right now, but I'm still working on that." With a sigh, Vicky sat down, the mattress creaking and settling under her. "It's going to have to happen. Once the supervillains left town, cape crime fell off a cliff, and non-cape crime was due to follow soon after. There's
zero
drug trade in town and Atropos will kill anyone who messes with the economic recovery, which means the cops will be free to deal with normal crime and the PRT will be keeping an eye on the rogues. It won't be long before we heroes will be going after jaywalkers, because there'll be literally nothing else for us to do. But I didn't come in here to talk about that."Amy yawned. "Sorry. So, what
did
you want to talk about?""Names." Vicky gestured toward herself. "I can't be Glory Girl forever, and Glory Woman just sounds … no.""No," Amy agreed. "Not Glory Woman." She thought for a moment. "How about just Glory?""Thought about it, but … not as bad as Glory Woman, but still too derivative." Vicky sounded pensive.Amy snickered. "You still don't have it as bad as Kid Win. What's he going to be? Adult Win? Man Win? Go nudist and call himself Winning Streak?"Vicky's back shook as she snorted with laughter. "No idea. But Dad said something the other day about me being a beacon of hope. Maybe Beacon?""'I lift my lamp beside the golden door'," quoted Amy. "Yeah, I like that name. It's a good one."Vicky nodded. They were both familiar with the poem, considering how Vicky's tiara had been inspired by the Statue of Liberty. "Thanks. I like it too. I just didn't want to jump in and have everyone think it was too much on the nose.""No, it's totally a good name," Amy assured her. "I like it.""Good." Vicky stood up, the mattress rising back into place as her weight lifted off it. "Imma go to bed now. Thanks for listening.""No problem. Night … Beacon.""Night, awesome sister of mine."Her door opened, then clicked shut again. Amy was alone in her room, but she waited a good minute before pulling the covers off and scooting out of bed to finish changing. There was no way she could risk a shower this late, so she instead repurposed her skin bacteria to process the sweat products on her skin.Rolling back into bed, she sighed as she pulled the covers up. The talk with Atropos had been both less nerve-wracking and more productive than the one with Vicky. How did that work, anyway?She said I'm fine.
Smiling, she rolled over and wriggled down into a comfortable position.With the weight lifted off her shoulders, sleep came easily for once.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
Kayleen Hoskins, Hostage"Mom, I'm scared.""Shut it, kid."Kayleen looked around at Sean, sitting in the middle of the back seat with the man she'd mentally dubbed 'Kidnapper B' beside him. "It'll be okay," she said, desperately hoping she was telling the truth."Listen to your mom, kid," advised Kidnapper A, in the driver's seat. "We get to Brockton Bay and make the delivery, you're free and clear. We ain't gonna touch a hair on your fuckin' head."Yeah, and what happens when the first cop gets suspicious? A gun to our heads, that's what.
Kayleen wasn't stupid. She knew how this sort of thing played out in movies and TV shows.But she knew the only chance she and Sean had of surviving was to do what they were told until she saw a chance for him to make a run for it. Right now, they had no chance at all; the kidnappers had zip-tied their hands in front of them
after
fastening their seatbelts, so they were literally attached to the car. But once they got out, their hands would be free and
maybe
there would be a chance then.It was more than a little worrying that the kidnappers weren't bothering to cover their faces in any way. That sort of thing usually meant they weren't concerned about witnesses identifying them later. Which made it all the more imperative that she give Sean a chance to get away. He was a smart kid; he knew how to run, how to hide and how to find a cop. Her only worry was that he'd try to help her get away as well.She would never forgive herself if she got away and he got killed."Shit!" Kidnapper A snapped, cutting into her reverie. "Cops! Coming up fast!""Just stay cool, man." Kidnapper B tried to sound smooth and confident, but Kayleen could hear the worry in his voice. "They're probably after someone else. We switched the plates, yeah?""Yeah, but that does jack and shit if they're just looking for a make and colour, dumbass."In the next moment, the interior of the car was flooded with light. Kidnapper A swore and adjusted the rearview mirror so it wasn't throwing a concentrated beam of light into his eyes; Kayleen felt the car surge forward as he put his foot down.In response, there was a chirp of siren from behind them, then a bullhorn-amplified voice bellowed, "DARK GREY FORD SEDAN, PULL OVER.
NOW!""Keep driving!" There was strain in Kidnapper B's voice."Like I was going to do anything else!" Kidnapper A's knuckles were white on the wheel.They were now hurtling down the road at speeds that put Kayleen's heart in her throat. Seatbelts or no seatbelts, if they crashed now, she and Sean were going to be seriously hurt or worse.The light that filled the car cut off, but that was because the state trooper's car was now coming up alongside them. Blue and red bubblegum lights flashed and the siren blared at full strength, as much for intimidation value as for letting the public know it was there. And then a side-spot cut in, glaring in through the driver's side window, leaving Kayleen unable to see anything at all."Hold up your hands!" yelled Kidnapper A over the wail of the siren. "Let 'em see the cuffs! You too, junior!"Squinting against the sun-bright spotlight, Kayleen did as she was told; hopefully, Sean was doing the same. At the same time, she felt the cold touch of metal as Kidnapper A put his pistol to her head. She desperately hoped that nothing would get in his way right then, because it was
not
a good time to have one hand off the wheel.The state trooper must have seen the heavy zip-ties and the pistol, because the spotlight cut out and the car abruptly fell back. Kayleen tried to blink away the dancing blobs of colour that had invaded her vision, but it wasn't easy. The gun wasn't at her head anymore and they were still alive, so that was a good thing."Okay, so what now?" That was Kidnapper A, from the voice."We keep driving. That's what the boss said. They know we've got hostages, so they won't try anything cute.""And what about Atropos? What if she shows up?""If Atropos shows up, we fucking pull over and surrender. Dipshit.""Don't call me dipshit. Asshole.""Shut up and drive. Is that cop still back there?"Kayleen's vision was starting to return, and she saw Kidnapper A look up at the rearview mirror. "Yeah, he's still there. Hanging back about a hundred yards or so.""Good. As soon as we hit the suburbs, we'll lose him.""Uh …""What?"Kidnapper A pointed ahead through the windshield. Kayleen blinked the last of the dazzle from her eyes and stared ahead as well. Kidnapper B swore luridly.Far ahead, though clearly illuminated by a lone street-light, a dark figure awaited them, standing in the middle of the road. A black long-coat flared dramatically in the breeze. Kayleen couldn't see a gun, but that didn't matter. She knew who it was.Atropos."Hands off guns," Kidnapper A said, applying the brakes and changing gears to slow down. "We don't threaten the lady, we don't threaten the kid, we don't even
try
to threaten the scary fuckin' cape, and we might live through this.""I'm letting the boss know." Kidnapper B had his phone out and dialling as he spoke. "Once we've done that, we can surrender.""Yeah, you do that."
<><>
On a Private Jet, Still Flying EastBastard SonHis phone chimed, and he smiled as he picked it up. "Yes?""Uh, sir, we nearly got to Brockton Bay, but Atropos is here. Just letting you know we're going to surrender.""Understood." He cut the call, then dropped the burner phone into the foil bag at his side. He'd have that crushed as soon as he landed.Taking up the remote detonator, he flipped the switch to arm it. Each and every one of the car's booby traps was now live; if they so much as opened the doors or even removed their
seatbelts, it would send a signal to the two pounds of Semtex packed under the seat-cushions (and armed with pressure sensors). The car would become a fireball, spreading destruction far and wide, and innocents would absolutely die.And even if Atropos figured out the trap and devised a way to disarm the explosives so that they
could
get out alive? He had a direct detonation signal, ready to send. Pressing the red button on his remote would send a signal to the
other
four pounds of high explosive, packed in and around the frame of the vehicle, entirely separate from the other bombs and impossible to get to without disassembling half the car. And even
that
wasn't all; if all else failed, there was now a timer ticking down. One way or another, Atropos was
done.The tiny screen built into the remote fuzzed then cleared, showing the view from the tiny fisheye lens built into the frame of the rear-view mirror. Settling back with his thumb resting lightly on the detonation button, he prepared to watch the show.
<><>
Kayleen HoskinsThe car slowed to a halt, about ten yards away from Atropos. She stepped forward, raising a bullhorn. In her other hand was a pistol, pointed at the vehicle. "EVERYONE STAY IN THE CAR," she warned them. "DO NOT UNFASTEN YOUR SEAT BELTS. DO NOT OPEN YOUR DOORS. KEEP YOUR HANDS WHERE I CAN SEE THEM.""But we want to
surrender!" shouted Kidnapper A, keeping his hands clearly in sight. "Just hand us over to the cops!""Not that easy, I'm afraid." Atropos let the bullhorn fall to hang by its sling from her shoulder as she walked up alongside the car. "Your boss left you a very
final
severance package. If you open your door or undo your seatbelt, you
will
die. If you try to do it, I will shoot you in the head." She broke off, turning to address the approaching state trooper with the bullhorn. "BACK OFF. THE CAR IS RIGGED TO BLOW. I'VE GOT THIS.""Rigged to
blow?" blurted Kayleen as the trooper backed off again. "You mean explosives?""That's the idea. But like I said, I've got this." Leaning down, Atropos surveyed the interior of the car, then shook her head slowly. "I have to say, he was damn thorough about it. There's enough explosives in this car to turn it into confetti.""What the fuck?" demanded Kidnapper B. "Why would he do that?""Because he
knew
I'd intercept you," Atropos said patiently. "And the last four times people have just tried to bull-rush past me, I've killed them. But I've spared innocents. So, he's setting it up so I
have
to let you go or risk this lady and her son being killed. Or so he thinks.""We weren't going to hurt them," Kidnapper A interjected nervously. "Just so you know that, right?"Atropos nodded. "Oh, I know. That's why I'm not going to kill you, just hand you over to the cops." She turned to Kayleen. "Your girls are safe. Your husband showed up and took them and the car home. Now, if you do
exactly
as I say, you'll see them again in just a few hours."A knot of tension eased in Kayleen's chest. "Okay. What do you want me to do?""Reach across and roll your window all the way down. Can you do that for me?""I think so." Kayleen did as she was told, and carefully rolled the window down. As she did so, she became aware of flashing lights approaching from ahead. "Uh, what's that?"Atropos didn't even bother looking around. "That would be the PRT, right on time. They'll keep idiots from interfering.""But … you're a
villain!" protested Kidnapper B. "Won't they try to arrest you?""Nah. I've trained 'em well." Atropos walked around the front of the car and produced a large and very sharp-looking pair of shears. Kayleen wasn't sure, but she thought she recognised them from the online footage that had been released about Atropos. "Wrists, please."Obediently, Kayleen held up her bound wrists. The shears slid in between the plastic and her skin, the sharp metal cold on her skin, and snipped once; the zip-tie fell away."Thank you." Kayleen massaged her wrists for a moment. "What do I do now?"
<><>
Taylor"One sec." I turned as one of the PRT troopers approached me. The rest were keeping their distance, setting up a perimeter. "Reave. How many favours did you have to burn to get lead on this case?"He wasn't even surprised that I'd identified him by his PHO handle. "Not as many as you'd think. What've we got?"I gestured at the car. "It's like I told you in the text. Bastard Son is trying to smuggle drugs into the city, so he got two of his expendable mooks here to grab hostages. But he's also had the car rigged to blow nine ways from Sunday as a massive fuck-you to yours truly. Six pounds of Semtex. With booby-traps, a remote detonator, and a timer on top of that, which is counting down right now.""Shit." He didn't sound happy. "Is there enough time for the bomb squad to get here?""Not nearly. Besides, some of the explosives are built into the chassis. I'm just going to disarm enough of it to get them out, then let it blow in place." It was going to make a hole in the highway, I knew, but it wasn't my highway."Wait," he protested. "You said
remote
detonation. What if he sets it off while you're disarming it?"I grinned under the mask. "Yeah, he's been trying to do that for the last minute or so."
<><>
Bastard Son1 Minute AgoThe view at the outer edge of the fisheye lens was distorted, but it was possible to see that the woman had rolled down her window and was holding up her wrists. A moment later, a metal blade came into view—no, not a blade! A pair of
shears! He sat up straight as the gleaming metal snipped through the heavy plastic tie.
Atropos is right there! At the car!All his intricate planning had come to this moment. Why bother destroying her reputation when he could kill
her? Even as the triumphant thought crossed his mind, he jabbed his thumb down on the red button and kept it there.Nothing happened immediately, but he knew that signal lag was a thing. The killswitch signal had to get from him to the car, then the visual signal had to get back. Leaning forward, he studied the tiny screen with mounting anticipation. Any second now, he'd see the camera image dissolve into snow.Any ...Second ...Now ..."Oh, for
fuck's
sake!" he exclaimed, staring at the screen and jabbing the button again. "Work, you sonovabitch!
Work!"But on the screen ... nothing happened.
<><>
Taylor"Jesus!" Reave took an involuntary step away from the car. "Then how come ...""We aren't dying in a fireball?" I reached into the pocket of my long-coat and showed him what had once been a radio. A red LED glowed balefully on top. "Signal jammer.""Oh. So what can I do to help?" He didn't even seem to notice that he was deferring to me."Shut down this side of the highway, pull everyone back to a hundred-foot minimum perimeter." I gestured at the car. "And take these two idiots into custody once I make it safe for them to get out.""Yeah, I can do that." He tilted his head. "You're not going to kill them?"I shrugged. "They surrendered, so they get to live. Anyway, back to business." I leaned in and looked at the lady. "Mrs Hoskins, I want you to listen very carefully. I'm going to wedge my shears in between the door and the frame. Once I've done that,
only when I say so,
I want you to carefully open the door. Can you do that for me?"She nodded cautiously. As intended, the repeated references to explosives ensured I had her close and personal attention. "When you tell me to open the door, I'll open it.""Carefully," I reiterated."Carefully," she repeated."That's right." I knew that each door had contact points added to it that were now live since Bastard Son had activated them. In order to open the doors, I was going to have to bridge those points.Sliding my shears in past the door seal, I wriggled them in until I felt them touching the contact points. "Okay, open the door. Carefully.""Carefully," she echoed again. At any other time or place, either one of us might have been annoyed at the repetition, but right then it was the mantra keeping us alive.
Carefully.I felt the latch disengage, then the door began to edge open. I moved the shears to maintain the contact, then turned them as the gap gradually widened, then opened them. At all times, there was solid metal-on-metal contact between the shears, the door and the frame, maintaining the safety circuit."Stop," I ordered, bracing the door with my knee to back up the command. By now, the door was open about six inches; the shears didn't have much more play in them, but that didn't matter.Kayleen did as she was told, her wide eyes staring up at me. "What? What's wrong?""Nothing. Everything's going as planned." Holding the shears in place with one hand, I dipped into my pocket with the other. Back in the basement, I'd wondered why I was attaching alligator clips to wires, but now I wondered no more. It was the work of a moment to attach the clips to the contacts, bridging the gap much more securely. Taking the shears away, I opened the door wide enough to give me access to the side of the seat."Oh," she said, staring up at the connecting wire. "Do you
always
carry something like that with you?""Only when I need it." I knelt down inside the open door."Can I ... can I get out now?" She sounded almost childishly hopeful.I shook my head. "Not yet. You're sitting on a pressure sensor, and the seat belt has a wire running through it. Cut either of those connections, and ... boom." I took the shears and sliced open the side of the seat, right where the almost-invisible repair line ran. "Now, let's see ..."Diving my hand into the split in the cushion, I felt around until I found what I was looking for; the last part of the explosive device they'd installed. Specifically, the detonator. Pulling it free of the Semtex and the connecting wire, I eased it out from under the cushion."So it's disarmed?" asked Reave. Such was his faith in my ability to not fuck up that he was standing about two metres away. Or maybe he'd just been ordered to stick close to me."I wish." I walked away from the car and set the detonator down. "That's one of four. Three more to go."I did the driver's side front seat next, fully aware of the timer still ticking down. It felt like it took me less time, though I knew it didn't. The guy in the front looked relieved when I removed the detonator, though less so when I reminded him that there were two more to go.The kid in the back seat looked worried, so I made small talk to keep him calm while we were opening his door. He paid attention and followed instructions, which was all I could've asked of him.Once I had the fourth and last detonator out, I made sure they were all in a row, far enough away from anyone that they wouldn't be a problem. "Mrs Hoskins!" I called out, stepping smartly back from them. "Kindly undo your seat belt!"After a long moment of hesitation, no doubt recalling my repeated admonitions
not
to do just that, she pressed down on the release. The click of the latch coming free was drowned out by the spiteful
crackcrackcrackcrack
as the detonators went off all at once."Jesus!" blurted Reave. "What the hell?""Radio dets," I explained, largely unnecessarily. "The seatbelt buckles send out signals that set off
all
the detonators at once. Which was why the elaborate precautions. Okay, everyone. You can get out now. Reave, I'll leave you to deal with the nitty-gritty of arresting the ones who need arresting and so forth.""Right." He gestured troopers forward to take care of that. "So it's safe now?""Hardly. There's still that timer I told you about. It's wired to set off a det built into the chassis, and it hasn't got long to go. Everyone needs to get back to the safety perimeter
right now." I started toward the car."Wait, where are you going?" He followed me toward the car, even as he waved the others back."Something I've got to do.
You
get back."He paused for a long moment, then muttered something about 'goddamn glory hounds'
as he headed back toward the safety perimeter.I knew I was about to piss him off some more, but I didn't care. He had innocents to take care of and criminals to hand over to the regular cops, so he should be happy with that. But he wasn't even the one I was truly interested in messing with.
<><>
Bastard SonHe was still staring with gritted teeth at the screen of the remote, vowing that he was going to find the moron who set the explosives and shove a radio detonator up
his
ass, when Atropos slid into the driver's seat of the car. Reflexively, he hit the red button again, but it didn't work any more than it had the other fifty times he'd pressed it. Lifting her chin, Atropos seemed to be staring directly into the hidden camera ... then she proved it by making the
I'm watching you
gesture, aimed directly at it.Not that he was really paying attention to that. The only other readout on the remote was a digital timer, counting down. Now it was in the single-digit seconds.
Go on,
he silently urged her.
Grandstand. Be a showoff. Try to prove you're smarter than me.To his mounting glee, she made no move to get out of the car. When the timer hit five seconds, he knew she was doomed; even if she ran for it now, she'd be caught in the blast radius.
4 ... 3 ... 2 ... 1 ...And then the image on the screen was replaced by hash, and he fist-pumped. "Fuckin'
yes!"Atropos was
gone.He'd won.Nobody beats me.Brockton Bay is
mine.
<><>
TaylorI aimed the teleport to drop me in the shadow of the PRT van. Nobody saw me arrive; everyone was staring at the roiling fireball, as though expecting me to stride out of it. Which I supposed I could've prepped for, but that would've been too much hassle.Besides, this way was funnier.Strolling forward, I ended up behind Reave. One of his subordinates was apparently asking him something over the radio, because he was shaking his head and taking under his breath. "No, she's
not
dead," he insisted. "I'd bet a year's pay that she'll—""—show up again out of nowhere?" I suggested.He spun around, as did everyone else there. Where they were staring dumbfounded, I got the impression he was glaring. "Did you
have
to do that?""Well, yes." I shrugged. "Bastard Son had a camera in that car. What do you think he's going to assume, with that footage?"He paused for a long moment. "That you're dead."I nodded. "So what
won't
he be prepared for, when he shows up?"Reave let out the most evil chuckle I'd ever heard from someone who wasn't me. "You."I tapped my nose and pointed at him. "Bingo."He shook his head. "Was that always part of the plan, or did you make it up on the fly?""Wow, I thought you knew me by now." I spread my hands. "It's
all
part of the plan."More headlights were approaching from the direction of Brockton Bay. I knew who they were, and thus I knew it was time to go. "Media incoming. Toodles.""Wait, where—" But I was already ducking around behind him and activating the teleporter. The shadowy portal formed in front of me, and I stepped through into my living room."Oh, hey." Cherie had been sitting up, watching the TV turned down low. "How'd it go?"I pulled my hat and mask off and grinned. "When Bastard Son gets here, he's gonna have one
hell
of a surprise waiting for him."Cherie grinned right back. "Good."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
Bastard SonThe closest airfield run by Elite interests on the east coast, where he could land and deplane without anyone taking more notice than they should, was in New York State. He'd already ordered a limo, which was waiting for him when the jet touched down. It wasn't just for the luxuriously comfortable seating in the limousine that he was in a hurry to get out of the plane and into the car; the jet's accommodations were just as enjoyable. But he wanted to get started on the way to Brockton Bay and set up operations there. More to the point, he wanted to brag without being interrupted.So he held his impatience in check until he and his baggage were in the limo, and the driver had it on the road out of the airport. Then, and only then, did he fire up the admittedly impressive communications array that was built into the luxury vehicle. The large screen that motored up out of the console subdivided itself into a dozen sections, then each of these sub-screens lit up with a different picture."Bastard Son," one of them said in an electronically modified voice, while a white frame appeared around the speaker's image. "I hope you did not contact us all merely to let us know that you've arrived in New York?""Hah, no." His sneer was just as vicious as the masks he usually wore. "I contacted you all to let you know the job's already done. Brockton Bay's wide open for the taking, thanks to yours truly, heh."The ripple of shock that spread across those talking to him was subtle yet unmistakeable.
"I find that … hard to believe.""I find
you
hard to believe, heh." He took a bottle from the wet bar and poured himself a generous shot of bourbon. "The bitch was just too smart for her own damn good. I rigged a car with booby traps, a remote trigger and a timer, then I made the assholes driving it grab some hostages on the way. So she couldn't stop it and she couldn't
not
stop it, heh." Leaning back, he took a drink, luxuriating in the mellow taste of the liquor.There was a long moment of silence in the car before another one of his interlocutors spoke up, albeit reluctantly. "So, what happened then? What makes you so sure she's dead?"The feeling of triumph was
amazing.
"Well, she got around the booby traps
some
damn how, and she must've blocked the signal for the remote detonator, or just got lucky, but then she went and sat in the car so she could flex about how smart she was. And she was still there when the car exploded, heh."Another few seconds of silence passed, before the first person spoke up. "You are aware, are you not, that she is strongly suspected to possess a teleportation device? And that she may well have simply teleported out before the timer ran out?""No," he said, shaking his head. "No. Absolutely not. I watched her on the screen. I
recorded
that shit, heh. And she was right there, all the way until the camera cut out. The bitch is
dead, heh.""She has been observed to make impossibly accurate shots. If she can do that, then she may well have been able to time the teleport to coincide with the destruction of the camera."He put the glass down before he would've succumbed to the temptation to hurl it through the screen. Those things were expensive, and the booze was too good to waste. "Are you fucking
listening
to me? Nobody has timing that good, except
my
people. Is she one of my people? No. She's just another dead wannabe, heh.""A 'dead wannabe' who took down the Nine in forty-three minutes, and mopped up Butcher and the Teeth in less than two."
The air quotes were audible, for all that they were only implied. "I feel it would be a grave mistake to underestimate her."He rolled his eyes. "You're just salty because I fuckin' got her when all of you were pissing your pants about having to deal with one cape killer, heh."There was a sigh from the speakers.
"Very well. If you are so adamant that she is deceased, the PRT undoubtedly has her corpse in their morgue. Do what you said you'd do, and bring back her head, however charred it may be. Only then will we move on this situation.""Fine, I'll do that! And when I drop it on your desk, I'm going to expect a full apology for doubting me, heh." He'd had enough of the call, so he hit the button to end it.But he was still seething from the lack of accolades that had come his way, so he tapped in another number. Back-channel contacts were a universal constant, and his Gesellschaft opposite number had done him a solid or two over the last few years. It was time to repay those with interest."Hello?"
The voice was grumpy, as befitted someone who was used to rising no earlier than ten in the morning, but had been woken up at five instead. "This had better be important.""Gunther, old buddy!" There was no image on the screen, but he picked up the glass and toasted the distant man with it anyway. "I've got good news for you. Both of us, really, but something you'll be happy to hear, heh.""I'm listening, but only because it's you."His sneer had been replaced by a grin. "Atropos is dead. I got rid of her an hour ago, more or less. We've got a clear run at Brockton Bay again, heh.""Was, wirklich?" Gunther paused for a moment. "Please tell me that this is not one of your jokes. I know how much you enjoy those. Now is not the time for one of them."This was much, much better. "Swear to God, hand on heart. I got her with a car bomb. There is literally footage of her sitting in the front seat, until the timer hits zero. She is
dead, man. You can't get much deader than she is right now, heh.""Oh."
He could literally
hear
the smile on Gunther's face.
"Oh, this is very good news to hear. I owe you big-time for this. You have done us all a great service. She has cost us millions.""I know, I know." He basked in the praise, as was only his due. "I know you want to get off the line so you can make some arrangements, so I'll talk to you later, heh.""Yes. We will talk. I will want to hear all the details."
The call ended, this time from the other end.He relaxed in the comfortable seating and finished off the glass.
Finally,
someone appreciated just how damn good he was at this.His plans had been put together with Atropos in mind and he couldn't have changed them now, even if he'd wanted to. Infiltrating Brockton Bay with his people required that they be trained up first, so he'd arranged to rendezvous with them in Boston and get them up to speed before moving on.They weren't about to pull any jobs while they were there, so there was no real need to inform the locals of their presence. Besides, he'd heard a rumour that Accord was actually working
with
Atropos, even after she'd totalled one of his drug shipments.
Fuckin' pussy.Maybe half a day in Boston getting all his ducks in a row, then he'd make his move on Brockton Bay. In the absence of their local overhyped boogeyman, the local rogues wouldn't stand a chance. Then he'd kick in the door of the morgue, claim Atropos' head, and solidify his position as king of the Brockton Bay underworld.Basking in the glow of his own genius, he poured himself another drink.
<><>
PRT Building ENEReave"So she's definitely alive? Because I've seen no hint of it." Deputy Director Renick glanced at his laptop screen, which was currently showing a PHO feed. "Normally, she would've posted about this whole episode by now." This was true; the girl did like her midnight tell-alls."Absolutely, sir." He nodded, trying not to smile at the recollection. "The little smartass pulled a Bugs Bunny on us. Literally came out of nowhere and finished my sentence for me." Although he'd been certain she was still alive, the relief he'd felt at that moment had been unmistakeable.Which raised a question in his mind: when had her status shifted from 'adversary' to 'ally'?
Am I compromised? Instead of me recruiting her, has
she
recruited
me?Renick lifted his chin. "So, what's her plan? Do you know what her endgame is?""I believe I do, sir. She needs Bastard Son to think she's dead, so he'll let his guard down when he comes into the city. That's why I instructed everyone there to clam up about her. Not to say she's dead, but not to say she's
not
dead, either. Zero news. Hopefully, Bastard Son will think we're trying to keep her death quiet.""So she can get the drop on him," Renick finished. "And kill him.""That's the way I read it, sir."This time, the Deputy Director raised an eyebrow. "You do recall that our job requires us to
arrest
villains, not turn them over to another villain to be murdered, yes?""Yes, sir, I do." He lifted his chin and squared his shoulders. "I've also read up on Bastard Son. He doesn't play by any ruleset except his own. Every time he's gone into a city, people have died. PRT and heroes can't get a handle on him, and rogues and villains are either co-opted into the Elite or they die. Also, as we saw tonight, he's got zero respect for innocent bystanders. Excuse my French, sir, but he's one hell of an elusive son of a bitch, and a mad dog into the bargain. I trust Atropos to be able to nail him down and do what should've been done years ago."Renick shook his head dubiously. "This is a very slippery slope you're stepping on to. I'm not at all sure the Director will sign off on it, when she comes on in the morning. Going hands-off on Atropos is one thing, but actively assisting her in murdering someone is entirely another.""With all due respect, sir, I don't see it that way." He took a deep breath. Arguing with one's boss was always a tricky prospect. "We're not forcing Bastard Son to come into the city, and I certainly won't be pulling the trigger myself. At most, we're doing
nothing.
If we did something now to queer her pitch, she'll probably still get the job done, but the
best
outcome aside from that is losing all chance of her ever actively cooperating with us. And the
worst
outcome …""… is that she decides we've betrayed her, and we go on her enemy list." Renick nodded. "Your point is well made. I don't want to be on that list any more than you do." He held up a finger. "However, if Bastard Son decides to hand himself over to us at any time, we're duty-bound to accept that surrender.""Understood, sir." He knew damn well, as did Renick, that Bastard Son would be unlikely to even attempt any such surrender. The man was far too arrogant for that.Fortunately, if he did, this was one of Atropos' self-appointed options for those who broke her rules."Good." Renick laced his fingers together. "Dismissed. Write up your report, then get some rest." A faint smile crossed his face. "And damn good work out there tonight.""Thank you, sir."
<><>
Boston, Massachusetts; Later That MorningJudge Peter Regan's ChambersLeaning back in his comfortable leather-upholstered chair, Peter Regan gazed out the window at the freshly risen sun. Steepled before him, his fingers twitched as the only outward sign of the tension that had him in its inexorable grasp. Two paths lay before him, neither one at all to his taste.On one side, there was the agreement—nothing official, nothing signed. It was merely
understood
that Masters needed a message sent to them. Paige Mcabee had stumbled at the wrong moment, and so she was to be both the subject and the body of the message. The prosecutor was aware, without ever having been directly told, that he was to go as hard as he could on her. Her funds had been frozen, and the court-appointed defence attorney knew his role in the matter. As such, he had yet to speak to her in lockup. Arrangements had been made to gag her and ensure that she looked as dangerous as possible to the jury.The fix was in. Paige Mcabee
would
be Birdcaged, no matter what the public wanted. It was that simple.On the other side, was the message Dragon had passed on to him. There was no subtlety, no delicately phrased observations that could easily be mistaken for innocent comments taken out of context. It was very simple:
Atropos knows about the Mcabee case.Very few capes had amassed a reputation as fearful as Atropos', and certainly not in such a short period of time. In fact, she'd
killed
several of the others who were as well-known as her, and many more besides. Worse, most of these kills had been performed on camera, and she'd made it look positively effortless. Skidmark had been literally smeared all over the road; Peter had exactly zero interest in finding out what sort of imaginative demise she would come up with for someone who sent an undeserving person to the Birdcage.Mere human security, by definition, could not protect him. Being literally surrounded by capes had manifestly failed to save Kaiser from a sword through the eye. And if Dragon's observation about the Triumvirate was correct, even they might choose to look the other way if Atropos came calling.He'd actually called Dragon back, to appeal to her for protection. The hero had told him quite bluntly that she wasn't getting in the middle of that, but if he ensured Ms Mcabee had a fair trial, he should be just fine.Her advice hadn't been the slightest bit helpful, for all that it was glaringly self-evident.He didn't know what penalties, if any, would fall his way if he threw the case. His career, he suspected, would be over. Not immediately, of course. That would be too blatant. But tiny whispers would eventually add up to suggestions that he retire. For his 'health', of course.If he stayed the course and convicted Mcabee, he didn't know that Atropos
would
kill him, but he had absolutely no reason to believe that she wouldn't, either. Her every public action bespoke an exceedingly black and white morality; those who heeded her warnings lived, while those who didn't … died. The message Dragon had passed along had been just such a warning, no less dire for being second-hand in nature.He'd heard of being stuck between a rock and a hard place, or the Devil and the deep blue sea, and many other hackneyed phrases about not having any good place to turn. Up until forty hours ago, he had never suspected that he himself might end up in such a position. It was, he'd found, a most unpleasant situation to be in.On the one hand, he risked his career; on the other, his life.He
liked
his career. Over the course of it, many accused had gone before his bench. As far as he was concerned, he had administered justice without fear or favour.Paige Mcabee had been accused of a horrific crime: forcing a man to first mutilate and then violate himself. While he didn't necessarily think this was
precisely
Birdcage-worthy, especially on a first offence, it had been made clear to him on the quiet that unless this sort of thing was dealt with harshly from the outset, other Masters would see it as carte blanche to run rampant among the population. He saw their reasoning, and was fully on board with the need to send a message. It was a pity about the Mcabee girl, but eggs and omelettes. The greater good took precedence.The thing was, he belatedly realised, while he liked his career, it wasn't his life. His
life
was his life.And with that epiphany, his course of action became clear.Screw the greater good, I want to
live.Turning back to the desk, he picked up his voice recorder and clicked it on. "To the editor, Boston Globe. Usual header. From the desk of Judge Peter Regan, et cetera. Letter begins. After much soul-searching, I have decided to recuse myself from the case of
Massachusetts vs Paige Mcabee. Moreover, I am ordering a comprehensive review of the projected security precautions around Ms Mcabee, in light of the understanding that she is perfectly capable of typing her testimony from a soundproof booth and has no known Brute rating. Furthermore, I will be issuing an order to release her funds for use in her courtroom defence." He paused and stopped the recording while he went over in his mind what else he needed to say. Finally, he clicked it back on. "These are trying times for all of us, but we must not let fear make monsters of us. End letter, usual salutations. Have it on my desk for signing by the end of the day."Getting up from his desk, he walked the recorder through to his personal assistant's office and dropped it in her in-tray. "Take your time with this one," he said. "I'm taking half a day. I'll be back this afternoon.""Yes, Judge Regan." Her tone was professional, but he could feel her eyes following him out the door. He didn't care.He'd just ended his own career, he could feel it. Word would get out that he didn't stick to
agreements. And as much of an old boy's club as the judicial community was, someone like that just wasn't welcome.Maybe he'd even retire before the doors all shut in his face. It didn't matter, not anymore.He'd made his choice, and he'd stick with it.Because despite the high-sounding tone of his letter, it did actually come down to fear.
<><>
Brockton Bay PRT Building, around the same timeDirector Piggot's OfficeEmily finished reading the after-action report and the scribbled addendum that Renick had added, then sat back in her chair, brow creased in thought. And irritation; mainly irritation.For ten long years, she'd fought the good fight, keeping her city afloat against a seemingly endless tide of villain capes who seemed to think that Brockton Bay was
the
perfect place to kick-start (or restart) their careers. Along the way, she'd struggled against institutional apathy within both the PRT and the BBPD, and not a little corruption in both organisations. Even outside that, she had prodnose do-gooder institutions such as Youth Guard attempting to insert their grubby little fingers into the lives of the local Wards (and the non-Ward younger heroes as well), all in an attempt to justify their own existence.And, of course, she had the Wards themselves, and the heroes of the Protectorate: capes, one and all. She didn't actually
like
capes, not since Ellisburg. They'd fled the battlefield then, leaving her people to die. Deep down, she didn't trust them not to do it again (especially given that Shadow Stalker had been edgier than a wood-chipper on steroids, and Assault was
literally
an ex-villain).But still, she'd taken what she was given, and she'd made it work (for a given definition of 'work'). From day to day, the disparate organisation had staggered from crisis to crisis, held together through sheer stubborn refusal to quit. It had been a balancing act of epic proportions, and she liked to think she'd been fairly good at it.And then Atropos came along.In less than two weeks (and counting, because she surely was not done yet), that one irritating girl had achieved everything Emily had been striving to do for
ten fucking years.
Villains? Dead or gone. Hard drugs? Gone. Gangs? Keeping their heads
way
down. Even the corruption and apathy within the PRT had been mostly rooted out (and the BBPD was well on the way to compliance as well), but only because
Atropos had said it had to be so.During those two weeks, the craziness that was a normal part of life in Brockton Bay had just … died. Citizens were starting to feel safe to walk the streets of their own city once more. The PRT had gone from just barely holding their own to literally having excess time on their hands. With the heroes freed from having to focus on villain capes and gang violence, they were assisting the BBPD in going after normal criminals; in short, the change right across the board had been both fundamental and massive.So why am I not happier about this?She knew damn well why. Atropos represented three things Emily utterly despised. First, she was a cape. Second, she was a villain. Third, she didn't follow the rules; or rather, she made her own rules. She murdered people and
boasted
about it, and still got away with it.Worst of all, people
applauded
her for it. She was a self-confessed serial killer, yet among the ordinary citizenry of Brockton Bay, she had an actual
fan club, and more people on top of that who simply approved of what she was doing. (Well, in fairness, she
had
taken out the Nine … and Butcher and the Teeth … and several other capes who had been perennial thorns in Emily's side … but that shouldn't
matter. Murder was still
murder.)Still, Emily wasn't stupid. She'd given orders for the Wards to stay well clear (because not one of them would stand a chance against her) and for the heroes to exercise caution (same reason). The PRT also had a hands-off policy, not least because she didn't feel like sending her men into a meat-grinder.It didn't mean she had to
like
it.This latest report was one more droplet of the water-torture that was life in the same city as Atropos. Bastard Son of the Elite was due to arrive in Brockton Bay shortly, if he wasn't already in the city. Atropos had made use of his car bomb to fake her death temporarily, at least in his eyes, so that when he showed up, he wouldn't be prepared for her particular brand of homicidal 'justice'.If the PRT stood back and did nothing to hamper her, Atropos
would
end him, bringing yet another incursion into the city to an abrupt halt. A man would die; one who didn't have a kill order on his head, but who had signed his own death warrant merely by deciding to come to Brockton Bay.The worst bit was, Emily knew damn well who she'd choose to have in her city if there was a gun to her head and she had to pick one or the other. Atropos was an unapologetic murderer, with a death toll that was now into the dozens, not even counting the unpowered mooks she'd executed along the way, but she was
still
preferable to Bastard Son.If Mouse Protector was to be believed, the entire Ravager incident in New York had taken place because Atropos had
turned down
a million-dollar bounty on the hero's head, and instead contracted with her to destroy Ravager's credibility. Emily didn't know many ordinary people, much less capes, who would walk away from a million-dollar payday like that. From all indications, Bastard Son was not one of them.And now, Atropos had saved two hostages and handed the mooks over to the PRT. The report held nothing but praise for her. Even Renick's note on the report strongly recommended that the PRT just stand back and let events take their course.Emily Piggot despised capes, but she hated Bastard Son more than Atropos. Taking a deep breath, she opened a text file on her computer and started typing.General Order: to be disseminated to all PRT personnel in ENE DepartmentFor the next 24 hours, until 0900 hours on Sunday the 16th of January, no mention will be made of Atropos by any PRT personnel, on any media. Her existence will not be acknowledged to anyone outside the PRT until the 24 hour period is up
or
she is seen in public, at which point this order will be automatically rescinded.Signed, E. Piggot, Director, PRT ENESitting back in her chair, she read the words through and nodded to herself. That was absolutely as far as she was willing to go.Beyond that, Atropos was on her own.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
8 AM Saturday Morning
Laborn Residence
Aisha's phone pinged as she and Riley sat side by side on the sofa, eating cereal (carefully, so boring big bro wouldn't yell at them) and trading barbs about the cartoons they were watching. Putting her bowl down on the coffee table, on top of one of the coasters he had pointedly placed there for them (again, so he wouldn't yell at her) she dug the phone out of her pocket. Her day brightened right up when she saw the text that had just come through.
Hi,
Just popping over for a quick visit with my loyal fans. Didn't want either of you dropping your cereal.See you in a sec.
A
"Cool!" she exclaimed. "Atropos is coming over!"
"Wow, really?" Riley looked impressed. "Does she visit you that often?"
"Not really," Atropos observed from the kitchen doorway. "But I
was
thinking we could go down to the Boardwalk next Saturday. The Brockton Bay Rogues' Guild will be putting on a show there from about one onward, every weekend from now on."
Aisha was proud that she didn't jump. She tilted her head, trying to place the name. "I don't think I know that one."
"They only formed in the last few days." Atropos strolled over and sat down in Brian's armchair. "A couple of new local capes asked Parian if they could work for her. A Tinker called Salvage and a kinetic manipulator called Bastet."
"Okay, yeah, that's kinda cool," Aisha acknowledged. "Wanna help me badger Brian into going down there after he gets off-shift, Ri?"
Riley's grin was getting better all the time; in a week or two, Aisha judged, she'd be full-on smartass, firing on all cylinders. It was a lot better than the timid little smile she'd had when she first arrived. "I think I'd like that. Isn't Parian the one with the dolls?"
Atropos nodded. "That's the one. I'm really proud of her for stepping up and helping out the other two."
"So what's Salvage do with their Tinkering?" asked Aisha. "Do they take old stuff and make it look like new, or something?"
"Not quite." Atropos tilted her head. "More like, he takes stuff that would be worn out and no good to anyone else, and he builds something worthwhile out of it. It's actually pretty cool."
Riley nodded. "Yeah, I guess it would be."
Aisha could tell that the phrasing had hit her cousin right in the feels, so she put her arm around Riley's shoulders and squeezed. Riley leaned her head against Aisha's shoulder in a way that made Aisha want to fight the world just to keep her safe.
"So anyway, how are you two doing? Settling in okay?" From the tone of her voice, Atropos hadn't noticed a thing. Aisha didn't trust that for a second. Her girl Atropos noticed
everything.
Which meant she was deliberately not calling attention to it, so Riley wouldn't be embarrassed.
Damn, she's cool.
"Um, well, yeah," Riley ventured, sitting up slightly but not pulling away from the protective circle of Aisha's arm. "It's really nice here, and Aisha's amazing, and Brian's doing his best for us too. I mean, he's a bit strict but only when we don't pick up after ourselves or stuff like that. And they've nearly got my costume done. I'm debuting on Monday as Miss Medic."
Aww, you're amazing too.
"Yeah, the costume's pretty rad," Aisha agreed. "They're gonna love her." She lowered her voice in her best attempt at a menacing growl. "They
better
love her."
Riley leaned into her, giving her a shoulder-nudge. "You're just saying that because sister support." But the tone of her voice was playful.
Mentally, Aisha fist-pumped in triumph.
Yess! She's finally making jokes, not dumping on herself!
"Well, yeah," she agreed. "I'd say it anyway. But this time, I mean it."
Atropos nodded encouragingly. "I look forward to seeing it. You're gonna do a lot of good out there, I can tell."
"Thanks—wait a second!" Riley sat all the way up, shrugging off Aisha's arm. "That stuff you wanted me to make. Did you need it right now? I've got it curing in the bedroom. It's going to need another hour before it's good to use, though."
"Oh, I don't need to use it for another few hours. Would it cure just as well if I took it with me?" Aisha was sure Atropos knew the answer, but chose to ask the question anyway.
"Sure." Riley popped to her feet. "It just needs to mature a little. There's no more prep needed. I'll go get it now."
Aisha watched her vanish into the bedroom. "She's pretty brainy with that stuff. Smelled a bit funny when she brewed it up in the bathroom sink, though."
"And Brian didn't mind?"
Aisha shook her head airily. "He might have most people bluffed with that growly tough-guy act, but he's a big marshmallow underneath. Never yells at Riley, and he always tries to say stuff that's encouraging." She gave Atropos a sideways warning glance. "I'll totes deny it if you repeat this, but him getting grabbed by the PRT and doing the hero thing is the best thing that coulda happened to all three of us."
She was pretty sure Atropos grinned just then. "My lips are sealed."
"Yeah, just make su—"
"Here it is!" Riley burst out of the bedroom, bearing a small plastic container with a screw-on top. "Just smear it on whatever you want to apply it with. Guaranteed non-toxic and non-allergenic."
"Thanks." Atropos stood up as well, and accepted the container. "I really appreciate this."
Riley shook her head in negation. "No, I owe you so, so much. You saw me inside Bonesaw and got Panacea to pull me back out again." Impulsively, she moved forward and hugged Atropos. The city's most dreaded cape hugged her right back, holding her tightly.
"All you have to do to repay me is be
you, the best way you know how." Was that a hint of roughness in Atropos' voice? Aisha couldn't be sure. Then Atropos turned her head toward Aisha, and this time there was absolutely a grin under the mask. "And keep being a good influence on Aisha. She needs it."
"Hey!" But Aisha couldn't keep the grin off her face. It wasn't like Atropos was
wrong
or anything.
"I'll see you guys later, then." Atropos let Riley go, then leaned over and ruffled Aisha's hair. "Toodles." And just like that, she flipped up a little panel on the device wrapped around her arm, pressed a couple of buttons, and ... vanished.
Riley shook her head wonderingly. "That will never not be awesome."
"I know, right?" Aisha patted the sofa cushion beside her. "C'mon, there's more cartoons we haven't eviscerated yet."
Riley sat down again and picked up her cereal. "Is it just me, or are the big bad evil guy's plots always too stupid for words?"
Aisha tilted her head. "Are you talking from experience?"
"… maybe."
<><>
Just a Little Later
Panacea
Amy had music playing in the background as she checked over the inhabitants of her terrarium. The mushroom baby in the pot was gently swaying as it danced a little jig—from the waist up—in time with the melody. It actually had pretty good rhythm, and she was starting to consider how she could help make it mobile. True, a tap-dancing mushroom kid would probably send Carol into hysterics, but Carol
didn't have to know.
The ones in the glass box were also doing fine, and the lizard—a rather handsome male bearded dragon that Vicky had dubbed Smaug—was dozing under the sun lamp. Smaug opened his eyes a little as she gave him a gentle scratch alongside the neck, just where he liked it. Amy wondered if her power wanted to enhance Smaug as well, though she suspected that turning him into an actual fire-breathing dragon might be a little beyond her. She was also dubious about giving him wings, not least because this would no doubt confuse him horribly.
Just then, her computer pinged to let her know she had a private message in PHO. Frowning, she gave Smaug one last skritch then slid the top of the terrarium back into place. Winged or otherwise, she didn't want her dragon escaping.
Seating herself at the computer, she clicked on the notification.
■
PRIVATE MESSAGETo: TheRealPanaceaFrom: AtroposSubject: Need a favor
Hi,Is it okay if I drop in for a chat about a potential favor? Nothing illegal, nothing harmful. You might even get a kick out of it.
Atropos
■
Amy frowned.
What the fuck? What kind of a favour does she want from me?
She took in a calming breath and let it out as she thought about her dealings with Atropos. As she did so, she got up and closed her bedroom door.
At the start, things had been fairly rocky (and, to be fair, she'd been stressed out by basically
everything, but now she had her mushroom babies, and her stress levels were
way
down). However, she'd done an objectively good thing by reverting Bonesaw back into her younger self. Atropos' advice had led to the mushroom babies, which had to be a good thing, especially since Atropos herself had been quite taken by them.
Amy read the message again. If there was one thing she could count on Atropos to do, it was to be brutally honest. If she said,
'nothing illegal, nothing harmful', she meant it. Though Amy had no idea what the whole 'might get a kick out of it' could be about.
And if I don't want to do it, all I have to do is say no.
She figured she had a good enough read on Atropos by now to be confident about that. Moving the mouse, she clicked on the 'answer' icon.
Okay, come on over,
she typed.
No promises until I hear what it is.
Then she clicked the Send icon.
Behind her, she heard her mattress creak. For a long moment, she froze, then she deliberately took a breath. "You're sitting on my bed, aren't you?"
"Mm-hmm." It was Atropos' voice. Swivelling the chair around, she saw what she expected: the black-clad villain, casually seated on her bed, with her head tilted in an expectant pose. "In fairness, I did my best not to give you a jump scare this time."
"True, and I appreciate that." Amy leaned back in her chair, trying to look more relaxed than she felt. "So, what can I do you for today?"
"I want to create a particular effect, and I thought of you. A powder or dust or something similar that changes hue on a specific command, then dies or drifts off or whatever. The command being …" Atropos lifted her hand and snapped her fingers.
"Um." Amy blinked as her imagination was suddenly off and running with ideas for how it could be achieved.
This is my power, isn't it? I think it is.
"I have … ideas. Any other specifications?"
Atropos nodded. "It needs to be able to cling to cloth and leather and be harmless to the human body, even if inhaled or swallowed. Also, unable to reproduce. That's about it."
Amy tilted her head as concepts unfolded in her mind. She narrowed ideas down to about half a dozen, then picked the one her power seemed to favour. "Yeah, I can do that. Just one question. Why? What's this for? Are you going to graffiti something halfway across the city?"
"Now
that's
a use I hadn't thought of, but no." Atropos chuckled. "So, a little background. Bastard Son of the Elite is coming to town, and his name really doesn't do him justice. He currently thinks I'm dead, so what I want to do is …"
As she spoke, Amy grinned wider and wider, then broke down into laughter.
Atropos had been right. She
did
get a kick out of it.
<><>
10 AM, Eastern Standard Time
Somers Rock
"Okay, so what do you think?" Sabah turned her open laptop to show the other two the website she'd designed.
"Daaamn, girl, you're some kinda computer whiz." Bastet looked and sounded seriously impressed. "You put all that together in a couple days?"
"What she said," grunted Salvage. "That looks pretty slick to me."
Sabah blushed behind her mask. She was no expert, but it wasn't hard to throw together a fairly basic website from online tools, especially with the help of a few of her friends in college. They hadn't known what it was for, of course, but their advice had been useful all the same. "Thanks. So, uh, I put those ideas into a costume for you, Bastet, and some, um, accessories for you, Salvage."
They watched as she dug into her bag and came up with a wrapped bundle for Bastet, and a smaller one for Salvage. She handed them out, and the two capes before her opened them with rather more enthusiasm than she'd expected. With an expression like a kid on Christmas morning, Bastet stood and held the costume up in front of her. "Hot
damn," she said, looking down at herself. "I gotta go try this on!"
Without even needing to be prompted, the guy behind the counter pointed toward the restrooms, and Bastet hustled in that direction. Salvage, on the other hand, looked over the cans of metallic-flake paint and the sharp conductor's cap that Sabah had been able to find for him. Also in the bag was the best-quality toolkit she'd been able to find him on her limited budget.
"Jeez," he said, his mechanical gauntlets handling them as though they were the crown jewels or a Fabergé egg. "You buy all this for
me?"
Sabah shrugged awkwardly. "If we're going to be working together, we should all be at our best, right?"
"Right." He nodded. "Yeah." Carefully, he fitted the cap into place. It had a flexible leather mask sewn into the brim that could drop down over his face; leaving it up, he pulled his goggles into place under the bill of the cap. "How do I look?"
"Like a goddamn million bucks," Bastet said as she sashayed out of the restroom. "How cool does this look?"
Sabah nodded approvingly. Bastet had made good use of the basic hygiene kit Sabah had included in each bundle, and she did look a lot more like a serious cape rather than someone who'd snuck in by the side door. "Very cool indeed. So, let's talk about what we're actually going to be
doing
as the Rogues' Guild."
She was taken aback, and somewhat daunted, by the sudden attention this garnered her.
What am I doing? I have no idea how to lead a group of capes.
"Keep talking, boss-lady," Bastet urged. "You know what you're doing. We don't."
"Okay, then. Okay." Sabah took a deep breath, then let it out again. It seemed she was indeed the leader, however little she was prepared for it. "I usually go down to the Boardwalk and do shows, like you saw. Until we can line up paying work for both of you, I'm thinking you could be a part of the show. Bastet, your costume's good for this. Salvage … maybe you could bring some scrap along and build toys for the kids while they watch? Toys that are safe for them to play with?"
"With these tools, hell yeah," he said immediately. "I can make 'em safe as you like."
Bastet lifted her chin. "And you think I should do that fire dancing thing you were talking about?"
"As a finale, yes." Sabah found herself reaching for ideas. "Do you have any other suggestions?"
"Yeah, actually." Bastet twirled her finger in a circle. "How about little cloth birds? You make 'em, I make 'em fly around me?"
"I can do that." Sabah nodded. "So … what do you think? We meet up at the Boardwalk, where I did my last show, at about one? The inaugural show of the Brockton Bay Rogues' Guild."
Bastet and Salvage looked at each other, then Salvage shrugged massively. "Well,
my
calendar's free."
"Mine, too." Bastet held out her hand to Sabah. "Let's knock the goddamn
socks
off this town."
Sabah shook it, then shook Salvage's gauntlet much more carefully. "Okay, just give me a second and I'll actually put that in here as an event. The site should automatically crosspost it to PHO and other local social media sites. With any luck, we'll get people showing up out of pure curiosity. Come for the hype, stay for the show."
Bastet grinned. "Works for me."
<><>
1:15 PM, Eastern Standard TimeOutskirts of Brockton Bay
Bastard Son
The limousine was as comfortable as ever, and he was feeling damn good after the night's sleep in Boston. The van holding his latest crew had caught up with him there, and he'd spent the next few hours instilling in them their new attitudes, values and skills. They'd come to him as loyal employees of the Elite and he'd turned them into lean, mean fighting machines, fanatically dedicated to him and him alone.
Just the way he liked it.
Over the hour's drive north to Brockton Bay, he'd casually flicked through the news and the PHO boards, hoping to find out if Atropos' body had been taken anywhere special. But there was no mention of her death at all. The explosion of the car had made the news, and the hostages were apparently already back with their family, but of Atropos there was nothing. It was like she'd suddenly ceased to exist between one day and the next.
It was the PRT, he realised. It had to be. Their pet boogeyman had gotten herself killed, and they were desperately hiding that fact while frantically scrambling to figure out what to do next.
Too bad, so sad. I'm already here, and I'm going to be running this dump by the time I'm finished.
Heh.
With the van following behind, the limousine threaded its way through the streets of Brockton Bay. He'd decided that he would swell his ranks with the newly formed so-called Brockton Bay Rogues' Guild before assaulting the PRT building, because having capes on call made so many things much easier. According to a notification that had popped up a few hours ago in the 'local events' section of PHO, they would be down at the Boardwalk for most of the afternoon, performing a show for passers-by. While the Boardwalk was by all accounts quite lengthy, the notification included a handy map location for reference.
It didn't take long to get to the location. There were no parking spaces available on the street, but that didn't matter. The driver knew to find the closest available parking spot, then return when needed.
Pulling his latest mask on, a masterpiece of sneering contempt, he opened the door as the limo slowed to a halt and stepped out onto the road. Behind the limo, the van swerved sideways and stopped, blocking the whole damn road. The driver cut the engine, set the handbrake and got out, ignoring the honking from the car he'd just cut off.
This was deliberate. He
wanted
outrage. He
wanted
attention. People
needed
to see him in action.
Seven more men climbed from the van; as one, the eight crossed the now-blocked road to where he waited. He'd trained them all, instilling them with unbreakable loyalty and the willingness to do anything he told them. Unlike the weaklings who had declined to attack Atropos, these men would've done just that if she'd survived the night's action.
That was fine; it meant they were perfectly willing to go after lesser targets.
Each of the eight had been given a nickname, based around the weapon he'd picked out for them. Shaver held a straight razor, Handicap a golf club, Strike a pair of bowling pins, Chairman a folding chair, Sweeper a broom, Shark a pool cue, Bookworm a heavy encyclopedia and Snips—chosen before Atropos' untimely end—two
pairs of sewing shears. The latter weren't as long as Atropos' bodice shears, but in his experience, two pairs of blades beat one any day of the week.
Parian and the other two rogues—Bastet and Salvage, going by the website—were now staring at them as the surrounding crowd backed away. Phones, previously recording the show, were now aimed at him and his men.
"Good afternoon," he said, grinning under the mask. "I'm Bastard Son, and you three just volunteered to join the Elite, heh."
"Uh, no." Parian gestured, and three large stuffed animals, previously dancing for the audience, moved forward to block the way. At the same time, she waved at the crowd. "Away!" she shouted. "Get away!"
He didn't even have to give orders;
that
was how much in tune his men were with him. Shaver and Snips darted forward, moving in perfect unison. Each dodged a clumsy blow from their respective targets—a six-legged horse and a purple gorilla—then retaliated with precisely timed slashes that left the stuffed animals in shreds on the ground. The third one, a rabbit with boxing gloves and an eyepatch, got off a single punch, expertly avoided, before it joined its compatriots.
Bastet began powering up some kind of telekinetic whirlwind, while Salvage just stomped forward, clenching his metallic fists. "Come on!" he yelled. "Come
on!
I can take you!"
It wasn't even a contest; Handicap vaulted up and over his unprotected head, knocking him to his knees with a single well-timed tap from the golf club. Bastet lasted a little longer as she fed gravel and ground trash into the high-speed vortex around her, but Sweeper hooked his broom around her ankles and pulled her off her feet. Winded by the fall, she stopped struggling when Sweeper put his broom across her throat.
"Well, that was the Rogues' Guild, heh." Striding forward like a conquering hero—or villain, rather—he latched his hand onto Parian's shoulder and surveyed the shocked crowd. "Good thing they aren't trying to be heroes. Well, that's—"
"Aren't you forgetting something, Bastard Son?" The words cracked like a whip across the silent crowd, cutting his incipient speech off at the knees.
He looked around, recognising the voice but not believing what his ears were telling him. There, just on the other side of his men, stood Atropos, but
transformed. Instead of midnight black and grey, her costume was pure white from head to toe, and she wore a sword slung across her back. Standing there in the sunlight, she was
dazzling.
<><>
Taylor
He stared at me, his jaw working a few times. "N-no," he protested weakly, then his voice gained strength. "No! You
died!
You're
dead!
I
killed
you!"
I shook my head slowly, gently, almost mockingly. When I spoke, my voice held an ethereal quality. "I am Atropos the White, now. I have passed through fire and death, and now I …"
I paused and shook my head again, then snorted.
"Sorry," I said in my normal voice, barely holding back a chuckle. "I thought I'd pull the 'back with more power than ever' schtick, but that's too pretentious even for me." Holding up my hand, I snapped my fingers, and the bio-dust Amy had prepped for me turned from pure white to dead black, then fell away in a cloud, drifting downwind with the breeze. "As the saying goes, the reports of my death were greatly exaggerated. Now, just so you know, you're already on two warnings. Does anyone here
not
know what that means?"
Dead silence answered the question. If anyone hadn't known, they'd either figured it out from context or they were saving the question for later.
"Yeah, I know what it means." It seemed Bastard Son had gotten his head back in the game. "It means you're standing right there in front of me, and right now the odds are eight to one, heh."
"Eight to two," grunted Salvage as he climbed to his feet.
"Three," Bastet corrected, also getting up.
"No," I said. "This isn't about you three anymore. Thanks for the offer, but I got this."
"I'll be sure and put those words on your headstone." Bastard Son gestured at his minions. "These are
my
people you're facing now, heh. You don't—"
The one with the pool cue came at me first, twirling it like a quarterstaff. I feinted a kick to his knee; while he was reacting to that, I gave him the novelty-sized eight-ball that I'd gotten from the joke shop to the middle of the face (big pockets are
so
handy). He went over backward, and I caught the pool cue out of mid-air.
As part of the same movement, I snapped it over my knee, deflected the golf club with the skinny end and whacked its user on the funny-bone with the heavy end. Fanatically loyal or not, neural responses override mere intentions; his hand sprang open and dropped the club. I caught it before it had fallen two inches, reversed it, and tapped him precisely on the temple with the business end. He dropped like a hole in one.
Bastard Son was still monologuing, turning in a slow circle to take in the crowd's reactions as he did so. "—stand a hope in hell against—"
Now I had two on me; the broom guy to my left and the one with the straight-razor to the right. I pulled my shears, deflected a simultaneous attempt to brain me with the broom and slice open important parts of my anatomy, then whacked both implements at just the right angle to snap them off short.
The minion on the left had clearly been trained in full-length broom use, not short-broom-plus-broken-piece-of-handle (a glaring hole in his education, in my opinion) and I used the opening to disarm him of the larger piece, then tripped him with it. He fell headlong and got the wind knocked out of him. At the same time, I let the shears hang off my pinky finger while I twitched the handle of the razor out of right-hand guy's grip, wrapped my fist around it, and slugged him solidly across the jaw. His eyes rolled up in his head and he collapsed.
"—just one of them, let alone—"
Three of them came at me all at once, with the fourth one coming around toward the back, trying to hit me from the rear quarter. Front guy had a folding chair (really? Wow), the new left-hand guy had a pair of bowling pins, the new right-hand guy had a
book.
It looked like volume E of the Encyclopedia Americana, but I could've been wrong.
A sheet of paper, torn from the book, came spinning at me with enough speed and power to slice my jugular. I deflected it with the end of the broom (losing a few bristles on the way), then used the same movement to hit the chair just right as it came at me. If he'd been using a regular chair, he might've been okay, but the folding mechanism was a fatal weakness. It came apart in his hands, and once again he hadn't been trained in using the
pieces
of his weapon.
Bowling pin guy hadn't been idle in this time, spinning his weapons in a deadly ballet of grace and skill. I swayed aside from a strike that would've caved my ribs in, and deflected the other with the butt-end of the straight-razor handle. Discarding the latter, I grabbed the back leg section of the now-defunct folding chair and hooked it between bowling pin guy's hands. One of the pins ended up in my hand—I didn't need the broom anymore—and I used it to brush aside another deadly paper missile then hit the open book solidly, crushing all his would-be paper missiles to uselessness.
Almost as an afterthought, I rapped him over the knuckles, causing him to drop the book. I threw the pin at chair-guy, who was still trying to figure out how to hit me with something that wasn't a folding chair anymore, and he folded up himself. With my hand now free, I caught the book and smacked its previous owner with it, then spun and used it to shield me against a solid drive with two pair of shears. I mean, the nerve of the guy.
Shears, against
me?
"—all eight, so you might as well—"
Bowling pin guy was still up, though he had some holes in his defence due to being reduced to just one pin. He came at me again and I brushed his attack aside with the book, then smacked him in the middle of the forehead with it. Going cross-eyed, he sat down suddenly.
Flipping the shears back up into my hand and dropping the book, I gave my full attention to shears-guy, who was coming in again. Gliding in myself, I let one attack hiss past my ear while I deflected the one aimed at my gut. This gave me the chance to kick him in the groin, which I did, then disarmed him of both his weapons while he was distracted. Collecting both pairs of shears in the same hand, I smacked him upside the temple with them, then stepped past him as he collapsed.
"—give up now." Bastard Son jolted in surprise as I stopped in front of him and dropped the two pairs of shears at his feet. My own shears, I spun once and returned to their sheath. "The fuck? How did you—?" He scrabbled for the pistol in his shoulder holster.
He stopped talking again, mainly because I'd drawn the sword that was still slung across my back, and flicked the weapon from his hand. The point came to rest, hovering just in front of his adam's apple. He swallowed convulsively.
"My turn now," I said conversationally. Even the few birds around had stopped chirping.
Everyone
was listening. "Do you know what this is?"
He jerked his chin, carefully. "It … it's a sword, heh."
"Not just a sword." I smiled behind my mask and pitched my voice to reach the crowd. "It's a hand-and-a-half sword, commissioned by Louis the Fourteenth for the infant child of one of his mistresses, before the kid was legitimised. I was gifted it by Kaiser's boy. Or, to put it another way, it's a bastard sword from the Sun King, made for a bastard son, given to me by the son of another bastard." I chuckled and tilted my head slightly. "Technically, Kaiser was a legitimate birth, but everyone who knew him would agree that he was a total bastard in every other sense." Sliding the blade back past his ear, I flicked his mask off. "A fitting weapon to End the career of someone called Bastard Son, don't you think?"
"I—" he began.
"I
wasn't asking you," I snapped, flicking the sword at his eye, so close that he blinked and stepped back and tripped, landing on his back. "I warned you not to come here."
Taking the sword in both hands, I slashed at him, carving the shape of a kite shield on his torso. The front of his business suit fell away, as did most of his tie. "Fuuck!"
he screamed as blood began to flow down his chest. It wasn't
bad; I'd only cut about an eighth of an inch deep.
"In antiquity, the bastard children of nobility had a particular device added to their coats of arms," I said conversationally. "This was called a
bend sinister.
Basically, a stripe that went from upper right to lower left. Like … so." One more slash, leaving a bleeding diagonal line across his torso, and I put the sword up. "Any last words before I finish this?"
"Yeah." He grinned through the pain as he scrambled to his feet. "My men are getting up, heh."
I glanced back over my shoulder. "So they are. But do you know what I just killed?" Taking a cloth from my pocket, I cleaned the length of the blade before I re-sheathed it.
He shook his head in confusion. "… what?"
I grinned inside my mask. "Your powers." The substance Riley had cooked up for me had done the job it was meant to. Applied to the very tip of the blade, it was now in his bloodstream. Some had already reached his brain, where it was meticulously severing all links to his corona pollentia. No neural signals would reach it, no blood vessels would feed it. It would die, and his connection to his powers with it. "And your men are now aware that you just ordered them to attack me. Whoops."
Bastard Son stared at his ex-minions. Some still appeared a little dazed from my rough handling of them, but I'd made sure not to do any permanent damage. None of them were looking at me. All of them were glaring at him. Courteously, I stepped aside.
"You …
bastard," one of them growled. I didn't think it was a reference to his cape name.
Abruptly, he turned and ran. Shouting in rising anger, they bolted after him.
<><>
Parian
"Uh … thank you," Sabah said, cautiously approaching Atropos. "You … you saved us."
"Not a problem. I actually like your puppet show, and the Rogues' Guild is a good idea." She tilted her head. "Hey, next month there's going to be a charity show for the oncology wing of Brockton General. If you wanted some great publicity, there's your chance. Oh, and you might want to get Salvage to move that van out of the way."
"Oh. Um … sure."
Wow, she thinks it's a good idea?
Tentatively, Sabah gestured toward where Bastard Son and his pursuers had disappeared down the street. "Should … should you be doing something about that?"
"Mmm, true." Atropos sighed, her voice taking on an overly melodramatic tone. "Otherwise, he'll get
away, and come back with ever more elaborate
schemes, and I'll look bad for having not killed him in the
first place, and there'll be so much
drama." She leaned in close and dropped her voice to a whisper. "You can't see it right now, but I'm totally rolling my eyes. Anyway, nice meeting you. Toodles."
And then, between one instant and the next, she vanished.
<><>
Bastard Son
His breath was ragged as he staggered up to the limo. It had taken him far too long to shake his pursuers and then to locate the damn car using the tracker on his phone. For some reason, the driver wasn't answering his.
Wrenching the back door open, he fell into the cool interior, then pulled it shut and engaged the lock. "Thank fuck. Get us out of here, heh." When he came back to Brockton Bay, it would be with
serious
forces next time. Actual capes under his power. Atropos would … why wasn't the car moving? "I said,
drive!"
<><>
In the Front Seat of the Car
Taylor
I wouldn't get a better prompt than that. "As you wish, sir." I dropped the screen between us, slid the sword up and through, and drove the point into the middle of the bend sinister I'd carved into his torso. It went straight through him, and a foot into the seat cushion beyond. He gasped, dying, scrabbling at the blade.
"Wh—f—you—how—?"
I shook my head. "I
told
you I'd kill you. People just don't listen these days."
Leaving the scabbard lying on top of the unconscious driver, now sprawled across the front passenger seat, I opened the limo door and got out. I pulled out my phone and typed out a text to the PRT, with the address appended.
Cleanup in aisle six.
Finally, I leaned back in and activated the comms system, sending a live (so to speak) feed to every member of the Elite with a screen.
I was pretty sure they'd get the message.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
Relevant Side Story: Severance, Longing
Relevant Side Story: Caught Red-Handed 1
Relevant Side Story: Caught Red-Handed 2
Relevant Side Story: Caught Red-Handed 3
Relevant Side Story: Caught Red-Handed 4
Protectorate Headquarters, Armsmaster's Lab
Assault
"Hey, did you hear? They found Bastard Son's body, right where Atropos said it would be."
Armsmaster barely grunted in response, which Ethan had kind of expected. Leaning over his keyboard, he seemed to be glaring at lines of code on the screen. As Ethan watched, he inserted a blank line then typed a bunch of code that probably made sense to Armsmaster, but not to anyone else.
"They also got something else …" Ethan added, leaving the tag-end of the sentence hanging.
Armsmaster didn't bite.
"… footage of Atropos in hand to hand with eight opponents at once."
That
got a reaction.
Ethan
knew
Armsmaster wasn't a Mover of any kind, but somehow he got up out of the chair and across to the door of the lab before Ethan had a chance to react. "Where?" he demanded.
"We're, uh, just setting it up to run on the big screen in the rec room." Ethan hooked his thumb over his shoulder. "I hear it's pretty impressive."
But he was already talking to Armsmaster's back.
<><>
Ten Minutes Later
Velocity
"How?" demanded Armsmaster.
"What do you mean,
how?" Assault spread his hands and grinned. "She kicked their asses with power and precision, that's how."
"No, how did she react to each one in time to beat them without leaving herself open to the others? She was guarding against attacks that hadn't happened yet, and setting up attacks on openings that weren't there yet." Armsmaster was wearing a headset with a flip-down eyepiece, and he was pointing at the screen like it had personally offended him. "She's not a speedster … is she?"
Robin shook his head. "No. All her movement is within human norms. I checked. It's just that it's
all
on the upper edge of human norm. She doesn't slow down for a second. The kind of focus that requires is … insane."
"Send that file to my lab." Armsmaster stood up. "I want to see how she does it."
"Already done," Assault said. "We're just going to watch the show out here on the big screen again. Atropos got some
moves."
Robin went to grab another pack of party pies. This looked like it could go on for quite some time.
<><>
PRT Building
Director's Office
Emily blinked as the scuffle with Bastard Son's minions came to an end. It had barely even been a fight. Atropos had looked like she was following choreographed moves, the whole way through. Still, for that many opponents, it was kind of impressive.
She watched as the sword came into play, rolled her eyes at the recounted provenance of the weapon, then waited for Atropos to kill him with it. But she didn't.
If any of Emily's troopers had been guilty of showboating like this, Emily would've busted them down to traffic duty before they tried it with the wrong cape and it got them killed. But somehow, Atropos
just kept getting away with it.
And then Atropos explained what she'd actually done, and Emily spat out her drink.
Grabbing up her phone without bothering to wipe off her computer screen, she stabbed numbers with her finger. "Get me the Chief Director."
<><>
11:17 PM, Saturday Night, January 15, 2011
Janice Templeton
All was not yet lost.
Returning to her computer with a glass of wine, Janice sat down and surveyed her computer. She didn't consider herself a bad person, but she had bills to pay and expenses to meet, and the poor and homeless in Brockton Bay had been getting along just fine without stimulus checks so far. And they'd probably just waste the money on booze or something.
Besides, she wasn't taking all the money, just making sure some of it slipped through the cracks. It wouldn't even be stealing, really, just making sure that the money ended up in good hands. Specifically, hers.
As a member in good standing of the B3C (as they were beginning to call themselves), she had admin-level access to the financial network that had been established to handle the frankly ridiculous amount of cash that had been funnelled their way. She wasn't going to try anything so blatant as to grab too much at once; that would be stupid and counterproductive. But the stimulus money had already been accounted for and transferred into the accounts, so nobody would miss it.
Leaning close over the screen, she scrolled down the master list, clicking the mouse occasionally. With each click, a name went dark, indicating that it had been deselected from the stimulus program. She made sure to select people with foreign names; if they were illegals, they might not even know they were supposed to get a stimulus, and they certainly wouldn't raise a fuss if they did. Even then, she wouldn't take too much. About ten thousand would be about right. Chump change, really.
Her preparations were almost complete; she'd already made sure that the unclaimed cards would be funnelled to a drop-box that she had access to. All she had to do was click the save icon, and the new configuration would replace the old. Nobody would ever know the difference, and she would be on the way to being ten thousand dollars richer.
She clicked it.
Her computer screen froze, then blanked. When the picture emerged again, she was looking at … herself?
Why is the webcam on?
As if in a nightmare, she saw Atropos on the screen, stepping into view from behind her.
She spun around, to confront—
Nobody. Nobody was there. Her study was empty.
She looked back at the screen. Atropos was looming closer and closer, reaching out …
There's nobody there. Somebody's just trying to scare me.
And then the gloved hand clamped onto her shoulder. "Hi."
Shrieking and flailing, Janice knocked her wineglass over and nearly fell out of her chair.
Atropos dug her thumb and forefinger into the nerve points of Janice's shoulder, sending jagged pain lancing throughout her upper chest and rendering her arm useless. "Sit. Stay."
Heart rate accelerating from resting rate to hypersonic, Janice did her best to comply. "Why—how are you here? You only go after supervillains! Capes!"
"Really? Who told you that?" Atropos' featureless mask was right alongside Janice, now. "I gave you warnings about trying to skim money. You chose to ignore them."
"I-I can fix it! I can put it all back!" She knew she was babbling now, but she didn't care. A warm wetness was spreading across the seat cushion under her, and she didn't care about that either.
"No, see, here's your problem." Atropos' voice was softly chiding. "I give people a chance
sometimes.
And that's only if they had no idea what they were doing. You knew what you were doing. So now it's time for your next role in this little story."
"Wh—what's that?"
Atropos gestured at the webcam. "Cautionary tale."
The last thing Janice saw was the flash of light on the blade of the shears.
<><>
11:34 PM
Paul King
One good thing about driving around late at night was that parking was easy to find. Paul brought his SUV to a halt, set the handbrake, and killed the engine. Leaning across and reaching into the glove compartment, he took out his holstered nine millimetre, then climbed out of the car.
A click of the fob locked the vehicle, then he lifted his shirt and clipped the holster onto the back of his pants, in the small of his back. He wasn't anticipating trouble, but the best way to avoid it was to be prepared. While the Brockton Bay crime rate had dropped significantly in the absence of the gangs, this didn't mean it was zero. Case in point: the people he was going to talk to.
The number of people in Brockton Bay who were willing to commit violence for money was somewhat less than it had been two weeks ago. Some had hung up the knuckledusters and taken up more law-abiding pursuits, while others had just plain left town in the wake of the capes who had previously employed them. He'd gotten the contact number for these guys from a friend of a friend of a very shady friend, and they'd promised results.
And so they should have, for the amount of money he'd paid them. But they also should've delivered, and that was something they'd conspicuously failed to do. If the money was going to be pulled out of the drug rehab program, with a few rounding errors ending up in his pocket, then the rehab program needed to be seen to fail. There needed to be disruptions, and there hadn't
been
any.
Over the phone, when he demanded an explanation, the spokesman of the group had said that they'd just had a bad feeling and backed off. He was there to provide good feelings again.
Which was why he was coming to talk to them in person, and why he was bringing a weapon. He had some money, in case all they needed was a little extra incentive, and he had the gun to disincentivise them from just robbing
him.
Descending a short flight of stairs to just below street level, he thumped the heel of his hand on the metal door at the bottom, then looked up at the security camera covering the door niche.
This had once been the hangout for a bunch of guys strongly affiliated with shaven heads and Aryan tattoos; when the Empire Eighty-Eight pulled up stakes in the aftermath of Kaiser's death, most had left as well. Those that remained were the ones who hadn't really cared about the Nazi ideology, but liked drinking beer and beating up people who didn't look like them. Taking money to trash a few drug rehab clinics had been right up their alley … until they hadn't actually done it.
A moment later, the door latch clicked, and he was able to push it open. Stepping through, he pushed the door closed behind him then shoved his way past the blackout curtains that were supposed to prevent light from spilling out even when the door was open.
The place had been messy enough the last time he'd visited (which was also the first time) but there'd been a certain amount of organisation. Now, it looked like a bomb had hit it. Tables were tipped over, the pool table was lying on its side, a few broken chairs were scattered here and there, and the actual members were draped over the wreckage. Some were groaning, while others were ominously still.
"What … the fuck …?" He stared at the scene of devastation. Fifteen minutes ago, he'd called them and said he was on the way over.
Had there been some sort of argument while he was in transit? Because right now, they didn't look capable of interrupting a game of bingo at an old folks' home.
The guy he'd spoken to was called Nicky, and he took no shit from anyone. Paul headed farther into the room, looking for Nicky. If anyone had answers about what had happened here, it would be him.
"Hey." It was a girl's voice, behind him. He half-turned, opening his mouth to ask a question, then froze.
Atropos stood there, leaning negligently against the wall, her arms folded. There was a pair of shears dangling from her left hand. Even as relaxed as she appeared, Paul could feel the menace rolling off her.
"Uhh …" he croaked, his throat suddenly dry. "This is not what it seems. I didn't—"
"I know you didn't." Her tone was derisory. "I
kicked their asses. You were already coming here, so two birds, one stone, you know how it goes."
"M-me?" He hated how his voice hit a much higher register than normal. The gun clipped to the back of his belt was like a lead weight. It was a poisoned chalice; offering salvation, it would surely spell his doom if he gave in to temptation. "What do you want with me?"
She unfolded her arms and began to walk toward him, one measured step at a time. Light gleamed off the long, sharp blades of the shears. "You were warned, more than once, not to try skimming off funds. You tried to skim off funds. You know what comes next."
Terror-fuelled adrenaline surged through his system, and he clawed for the pistol holstered at his back. By the time he got it up and pointed, Atropos had her own pistol aimed at him, the silencer making it look altogether more ominous. There was a brief half-second pause while he tried to figure out why he was still alive, then he thought
fuck it
and fired anyway. Atropos fired at the exact same instant.
Nothing happened. He looked down at himself, but there was no blood from suddenly-appearing bullet wounds.
She missed!
He fired twice more, but by the end of it his ears were ringing so badly he could barely hear anything. On the third shot, the pistol jolted extra hard, nearly spraining his wrist.
Still no pain. So far, if she'd been shooting, every shot of hers had missed him. But nor did she show any signs of having been hit, either.
"Missed me!" he shouted over the ringing in his ears.
She shook her head and pointed at the floor between them with the tip of the shears. Lying there, gently spinning, were three misshapen lumps of lead. He couldn't see them quite clearly enough to be certain, but somehow he
knew
each one was formed by two bullets colliding in midair.
Even one was a miracle … and she'd done it three times.
Still, all she had to do was miss once. He aimed his pistol at her again.
She shook her head, not bothering to raise her weapon. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."
"Why not?"
Holy shit, I've actually got the drop on her.
A moment later, he decided not to wait for the answer, and squeezed the trigger.
The gun exploded in his hand, the breech blasting itself open and pieces of metal flying everywhere. He staggered back a step and fell to one knee, clutching the injured hand. It didn't hurt too badly right then, but it was going to in just a second.
A black boot stepped into his line of sight, and he looked up to see Atropos standing over him. When she spoke, her voice was pitched just loudly enough for him to hear. "Because I fired four shots."
She played me the whole time.
Even with that realisation, he didn't see the shears coming until it was far too late.
<><>
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♦ Topic: Bye Bye Bastard SonIn: Boards ► Brockton Bay ► New Capes ► Atropos
Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me)Posted On Jan 16th 2011:
Good morning to the delightful people of Brockton Bay, and also the rest of you (I kid, I kid. I like you all.)
So, things got interesting yesterday on the Boardwalk, where our very own Rogues' Guild had their inaugural gathering. I totally approve of the Guild, by the way. Not every cape's got it in them to be a hero (I certainly don't; mwahahaha) but they're doing the best they can with what they've got, and they're doing really well with it.
But before we get into what actually *happened* yesterday, I'd just like to give a shout-out to our tireless and hardworking PRT troopers, up to and including their boss, Emily Piggot. They're also doing the best they can with the crappy hand they've been dealt. (And a specific thank-you to @Reave, for helping out the night before last. Totes professional, a credit to the service.)
So, what happened yesterday? Well, I may have mentioned Bastard Son's name a time or three. He knew damn well he was on his second warning. So he showed up anyway. Now, if you're not sure about his capabilities, he was kind of what you'd get if Teacher and Jack Slash had a kid and kicked it out of the house because they were sick of its attitude. He could give people an insane level of skill in basically anything as a weapon ... but at the same time he also pushed an insane level of loyalty (to him, duh) onto them.
So when these guys showed up, they were actually being Mastered into doing what they did, which is why they're not decorating hospital beds or morgue slabs right now. (Just in case you're wondering: one's given himself up to the PRT, and the rest have skipped town).
So, BS wanted to open up a location in BB for the Elite to put down roots. As such, he did his best to kill me first. I might have let him think he'd succeeded, just for the look on his face when he Found Out.
What? That look of 'oh shit, I have totally fucked up' is one of the perks of this business. Tell me it isn't.
Why he was on the Boardwalk is simple. One of the Elite's strategies is to either recruit, chase off or kill any rogues before they move in. I wasn't going to let that happen, for several reasons.
For those who weren't there, footage can be found
here,
here
and
here. Many thanks to those who posted it up; you just saved me about a page of making bad jokes about people bringing a folding chair to a knife fight.
In case anyone's not sure what I said to BS after the fight, I carved a
bend sinister
into his chest with a
hand-and-a-half sword, commissioned by
Louis XIV
for the son of one of his mistresses before he actually legitimized the kid. Its last owner was Kaiser, who was a *bastard* in all ways but birth, and it was gifted to me by his *son*.
And today you learned something!
And just in case you're wondering why I let him just run off like that, I wanted him to get to his limo (where I would be waiting). In the back of that limo was a high-end comms setup, including video links to his buddies in the Elite. After I killed him with the sword, I turned on the comms, so they could all see what happened to him when he came to BB against my specific recommendation.
I'm sure they'll get the point.
*He* certainly did (mwahaha).
Toodles!
(Showing page 1 of 27)
►Bagrat
(Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)Replied On Jan 16th 2011:Well.Dang.That happened.The other day, we learned what would happen if Atropos decided to kill someone's credibility. Yesterday, we found out what happens if she's up against a bunch of people she really doesn't feel like killing.Pro tip: It's not just guns or shears she's good at using.I have zero doubt that if she'd decided any one of those people was supposed to die, they would not have gotten up again. That was her *holding back*.I'm not even going to ask where she got the oversized eight-ball from. We know she got the sword from Kaiser's kid (who freely admitted that she asked for it and he told her to keep it if she wanted).Oh, and just by the way, the Rogues' Guild is legit. They've been checked out due to their encounter with Atropos (standard operating procedure) and they're totally on the up and up. Also, they've got the Atropos seal of approval, which would actually be less weird if the PRT also didn't have it.I would also like to personally thank Atropos for keeping the gore down to a minimum this time around.So there you have it, folks. If it was any more wholesome, it would be a Hallmark movie.
►BobTheBarbarianReplied On Jan 16th 2011:Here lies bastard son, he was too damn stupid to live
►MalarkeyReplied On Jan 16th 2011:Like a motherfuckin' BOSS! That fight was awesome! You won't believe how much I laughed as Atropos kept knocking Bastard Son's minions with their own weapons!
►AdamisReplied On Jan 16th 2011:the guy wanted to make a show. she made a show of him. it is a fitting end.
►GleamingGlareReplied On Jan 16th 2011:I can't believe nobody's talking about how Atropos depowered Bastard Son. I mean, that's a really big deal. That has to be a nightmare for a LOT of people. Many of which are powerful, even if they can't harm Atropos.Though it would be a dream come true for others, like some Case 53's, at least.
►Reave
(Verified PRT Agent)Replied On Jan 16th 2011:Instead of asking Atropos to come in to the PRT building (we know she won't), I would like to say something else.The night before last, I got to meet her face to face.I've been up against villains before. I've faced them, I've fought them, I've even been injured a couple of times.This was nothing like that.Lives were at stake. She was the first responder. People lived because she made the specific choice for that to happen.Just like she chose to save the Rogues' Guild from Bastard Son.We're still not *thrilled* that she's out there, but I think I understand her better now.@Atropos - you know where to find me if you ever want to talk.
►XxVoid_CowboyxXReplied On Jan 16th 2011:@GleamingGlare - about the depowering thing. In some animated shows, the bad guy can destroy someone's life energy by hitting them with a 'death blow'. Just a touch, but it drains or destroys their special martial-arts energy. I'm wondering if this isn't similar, but using a blade.
►BattleLoafReplied On Jan 16th 2011:@GleamingGlare - with how public it was, she wants people to know she can kill powers. This is going to make capes a lot more cautious about tangling with her.Also, that whole color change thing. How did she do it? Was it for intimidation (btw, it worked) or was it just for the Gandalf joke?@XxVoid_CowboyxX - Normally I'd dismiss that out of hand. With Atropos, I can totally see it.
►WastajaxReplied On Jan 16th 2011:Holy crap, how far in advance did she have to plan to have that sword and that oversized eight-ball on her yesterday? For that exact circumstance?I'm going with Thinker: Yes.
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►jojo_mojoReplied On Jan 16th 2011:It would not be such a bad thing to consistently and safely depowered a parahuman actually.It can be considered a humane (inasmuch life sentence is (generaly considered) more humane then execution) solution for evil cape.Its akin to cutting of a thief's hands so he can no longer steal, so your miles might vary..I mean.. if the alternative is the birdcage ...
►GstringGirlReplied On Jan 16th 2011:Is this really a thing? Can Atropos actually kill powers?
►XxVoid_CowboyxXReplied On Jan 16th 2011:Oh, yeah. I was there, in person, I saw what she did to Bastard Son. I heard her. Watched it happen.It's real.
►RadalabReplied On Jan 16th 2011:Okay, after the 'Atropos the White' skit she pulled, memes are suggesting themselves."One does not simply walk into Brockton Bay ... if you are a villain."Anyone? Anyone?
►XxVoid_CowboyxXReplied On Jan 16th 2011:Ooh, ooh!"You can have my sword, and my bow, and my axe, and my shears."
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me)Replied On Jan 16th 2011:*snerk*You guys are total nerds, and I love it.
►Mouse_Protector
(Verified Cape) (Veteran Member) (Independent Hero) (Verified Atropos Fan)Replied On Jan 16th 2011:I got one!A picture of Atropos holding her shears up."Myyy Precioussss ..."
►55FrostburnReplied On Jan 16th 2011:And another one bites, 'nother one bites, 'nother one bites the dust!I don't know much about the Elite, but if this keeps them out of the Bay, all the better.
►EppinagaReplied On Jan 16th 2011:She totally had me with the history lesson.Who knew serial killers could also be educational?
►UnconcernedFoxReplied On Jan 16th 2011:*puts in an order for more popcorn. Dis is gettin gud*
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PRIVATE MESSAGETo: AtroposFrom: GstringGirlSubject: Please don't be mad
Hi,Im … its really hard to just say this straight out but im a csse 53.And I hate my ppwers.Is there any way I can get you to kill them for me like you did witj bastard son?If you cant or wont its okay, I understand.I just wanted to ask.
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PRIVATE MESSAGETo: GstringGirlFrom: AtroposSubject: Re: Please don't be mad
Hey, Sveta!You're in luck. You caught me in between killing sprees (not killing Spree, I already did that). I can totally murder your powers for you.However (relax, this isn't as bad as it sounds) if we do this, Imma be volunteering you for a friend of mine to experiment with her powers in ways she's really not used to doing. This is my way of dragging her out of her shell, kicking and screaming all the way.So, here's the dealio. If you can convince the staff at the asylum (try Mrs Yamada, I hear she's a total sweetheart) to transfer you to Brockton Bay, I'll come visit some dark night (because that's how I roll) and End your powers for you. Then I'll turn you over to my friend, so she can get you back on your feet. Or pseudopods, or flippers, or whatever she leaves you with. Mwahaha.So, what do you say?
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PRIVATE MESSAGETo: AtroposFrom: GstringGirlSubject: Re: Re: Please don't be madThank you so much. Anything wld be better than this.Ill talk to mrs Yamada.Thank you again.
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PRIVATE MESSAGETo: SilentWhispersFrom: TheRealTenebraeSubject: Really?
Great. Just great.Now half the city thinks I was in a relationship with all of you at once.Aisha only stops laughing about it to make bad jokes.I am never going to live this down.Thanks a BUNCH.
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PRIVATE MESSAGETo: TheRealTenebraeFrom: SilentWhispersSubject: Re: Really?
Bwahahaha!The look on your face.Totally classic.Still, I'm glad you're doing well.Keep up the good work, hero boy.Tt
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PRIVATE MESSAGETo: SilentWhispersFrom: TheRealTenebraeSubject: Re: Re: Really?
Not funny.
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PRIVATE MESSAGETo: TheRealTenebraeFrom: SilentWhispersSubject: Re: Re: Re: Really?
Hahahaha
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<><>
Sunday, January 16
Taylor
"Good morning," I greeted Cherie as I came downstairs. "That smells nice."
"Thanks," she called from the kitchen. "I thought I'd cook breakfast, earn my keep around here."
"Well, you don't have to, but it's definitely appreciated." I strolled through the living room and into the kitchen. "How are you this morning? You look happy."
"I am." She gave me a beaming smile, then put down the pan for a moment to give me a heartfelt hug. "I just wanted to say thank you."
I hugged her back, then leaned against the table and watched as she took up the pan again. "You're welcome, but if you're talking about the roof over your head, that's more Dad's doing than mine."
"No, not that." She sprinkled a touch of salt onto the scrambled eggs. "I saw footage last night about a robbery by the Red Hands gang. Regent, Tattletale and Hellhound from the Undersiders must have joined them after leaving Brockton Bay."
"While Grue rebranded as Tenebrae and went into the Wards, yeah." I nodded to show I was keeping up. Cherie hadn't met Brian and Aisha and Riley yet; the less she knew, the less she could let slip.
"Uh huh." A grin lurked on her lips as she made sure none of the eggs were sticking to the pan. "So, when he showed up with the Protectorate to the crime scene, the Red Hands were still on site. They came out to delay while their teammates were still inside. I wasn't there so I can't tell how serious they were, but Regent showed real, actual emotion while he was talking to Tenebrae. More emotion than I've seen him show in literally
years."
"Regent's your brother, yeah?" I started getting plates out of the cupboard. "If he was as bad off as you were when I first met you …"
"Worse." She shook her head. "A lot worse. When I knew him, he couldn't have faked the emotions I saw on that clip if you paid him a million dollars. But now … he's better. Because
you
helped him. And I want to thank you for that, and for the rest of my brothers and sisters."
"Well …" I laid the plates out on the table. "You're welcome. And you've helped me out a lot since you came here, so it hasn't all been one way."
Cherie nodded firmly. "Good. I'm glad."
<><>
PRT Building
Director's Office
Emily leaned back in her chair and surveyed the multiple callers on her (now clean) screen. All PRT Directors, their level of unhappiness measurable in direct relation to their proximity to Brockton Bay. Front and centre, of course, was Chief Director Costa-Brown.
"Good morning, all."
The Chief Director managed to look impassive and pissed at the same time, which was a good trick. Emily had only ever managed to look pissed. 'Impassive' was something she was still working on. "I hope you've all viewed the footage that was sent on to you."
If they hadn't, the implication went, they might not have their jobs in a few minutes.
A wave of nods spread across the screen. It seemed everyone was anxious to retain their jobs.
"Good. That incident happened yesterday afternoon. Director Piggot?"
Emily nodded and sat forward again. "We've had our best techs analyse each frame of all the footage for any hint of data manipulation. Nobody found anything. Likewise, chemical analysis of the sword that was used to kill him, and his bloodstream found nothing that could be pinpointed as the cause of his power loss." If she'd found it, she would've had it
bottled.
Armstrong, in Boston, raised his head.
"So, all you've got to go on is Atropos saying that she killed his powers, with no hint of how it was done."
"Correct." Emily eyed her fellow Directors. "Before anyone suggests that we bring her in and question her, that is a
terrible
idea, especially considering that we have strong evidence that she is either allied to a teleporting cape or has access to a Tinkertech teleporter. Also, her Thinker rating is such that she
will
see such an attempt coming. Right now, we have the equivalent of an armed détente with her, that
she
is choosing to maintain. We don't really have any leverage in the matter."
"So, no change there,"
observed the Chief Director. "Director Pritchard, how are the Elite reacting in San Francisco to Bastard Son's death?"
Pritchard held up her hand palm down, tilting it from side to side in a 'so-so' motion. "I've put out feelers, but the vast majority of what I'm hearing is that he poked the hornet nest all by himself. The Elite have apparently been warned that Brockton Bay is off-limits, and this just underlined that. I suspect the 'killing powers' section was what really grabbed their attention."
Emily would not have been surprised in the slightest, especially given that the Elite were specifically an organisation made up of capes. She just hoped that none of their young bloods came to Brockton Bay to 'handle' the threat of Atropos, because that would just lead to more bodies on her kill count, and stress on Emily's PRT officers.
Hearthrow, in Chicago, half-raised his hand to get attention. "If we had nothing else to go on, I was wondering if this new ability to kill powers might be somehow related to her already-noted claim to be able to kill Endbringers."
Emily snorted silently. As far as she was concerned, it all fell under that bullshit PHO banner of 'can actually kill anything'. Though, she was careful to note, if Atropos did manage to take down an Endbringer, it would go a long way toward Emily actually approving of her. Emily was only human, after all.
"Not as far as we know,"
the Chief Director said. "Watchdog still refuses to have anything to do with her. Director Piggot, you're still trying to reach out to her?"
"Yes, with limited success."
Read: zero success. "However, she did speak with one of my officers the other day. The encounter was cordial on both sides, and it seems she came away with a positive view of our organisation."
"Yes; I read the PHO post."
Costa-Brown raised an eyebrow.
"Do you actually
have
any villains in the city anymore? Apart from Atropos, I mean?"
Emily shook her head. "No, but we have a bunch of new rogues, some of whom I suspect used to be extremely minor villains before Atropos made her mark. And of course, we have Tenebrae in the Wards. Despite a recent hiccup, he's integrating very successfully."
"Yes. I saw that too." Emily wasn't quite sure if Costa-Brown's lip had just twitched, or if it was a trick of the light. "If there is nothing more for anyone to add about Atropos' new ability, I'm calling this meeting to a close." There was silence for the next few moments, as everyone waited for someone else to say something.
"Very well. Meeting is over."
Emily clicked the mouse button to cut the call, and sat back in her chair.
Welcome to the madness that is my job. It wasn't like the other Directors could do anything about it, but aggravation shared was
almost
the same as aggravation halved.
Getting up, she poured herself a cup of coffee, then sat back down at her desk. Meetings were all well and good, but sometime actual
work
had to get done.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
Relevant Side Story(Still) Sunday Morning, January 16Danny Hebert"So, what are your plans for today?" Danny asked, after finishing off the scrambled eggs Cherie had apparently made. They were quite good, actually. "Is there anyone else currently causing problems for the city, or can you actually relax and take a day?""Problems are at a minimum." Taylor leaned back in her chair and stretched. "There's going to be a couple of things out of town in the mid-afternoon, but before that I was going to take Cherie to the Lord Street Market so we could pick out a few new outfits and browse for anything else she wanted. Afterward, maybe the Boardwalk and a movie."Both Danny and Cherie looked at her. "A couple of things out of town?" asked Cherie. "Why haven't you told me about this yet?" She paused. "Just by the way, the market and movie sound like great ideas. But back to the other things."Taylor rolled her eyes. "It's nothing, really. Some dealers from Boston got the bright idea to set up a pop-up of all things, exactly one mile outside the Brockton Bay city limits. They figure that means they aren't dealing inside Brockton, and can thus get away with it. At least, with me."Danny raised his eyebrows. "That seems to be remarkably risky. Is this an Accord thing, testing the waters?""Hah, no." Taylor snorted. "Some freelancers, looking to make the big time. I'll just show up, destroy their stash, and explain to their customers that anyone who tries to pull this loophole to buy drugs isn't welcome back in my city. They want to keep feeding their habit, they can go elsewhere to do it … and
stay
there.""If the dealers put up a fuss about you destroying their drugs, are you going to kill them?" Cherie didn't seem dismayed by this concept, merely curious."Only if they come at me with lethal force." Taylor shrugged. "Otherwise, it'll be a 'kneecaps are a privilege' situation.""And the other thing?" asked Danny. "You did say 'a couple' of things.""Yeah." She rolled her eyes. "Gesellschaft got told by Bastard Son that I was dead. One of them hasn't got the memo that I'm still alive. He's scraped together all the drugs he can from other contact points in the country, and it's all shipping together in one eighteen-wheeler. It'll be coming through just about the time I finish up with the drug pop-up idiots."Cherie nodded sagely. "Right. So, nothing to worry about then.""Not so as you'd notice." Taylor held up a finger. "Oh, and there
is
something else, Dad."Danny eyed her cautiously. "Why do I get a bad feeling when you use that phrase?"Taylor smirked. "Superior pattern recognition? Anyway, you're about to get a phone call from the police. It's about Paul King and Janice Templeton. Last night, I caught them trying their shit
again,
so I made examples of them. They're alive because you didn't want me killing them, but they
are
in the hospital.""Do I want to know what you did to them?" He really didn't, but he supposed he should ask anyway."Well, it's unpleasant enough that nobody else on the Committee will be even tempted to try anything themselves, but it's survivable." She shrugged as she got up. "I'll let the cops fill you in. Help me with the washing up, Cherie?""Sure." Just as Cherie stood up and started stacking the plates, the phone rang. "I think that's for you, Mr Hebert."Danny rolled his eyes, though he was secretly pleased that she felt comfortable with making jokes like that. "Thank
you for that, young lady." He handed her his plate on the way to the phone.Heading over to where the phone hung on the wall, he picked up the receiver. "Hebert residence, Danny Hebert speaking."
<><>
TaylorWrist-deep in suds, I scrubbed at the pan, enjoying the mindless effort. There was no second or third guessing, no juggling of the probabilities. It was either dirty or clean. The binary choice appealed to me."So, what'd you do to them, and who's calling your dad about it?" murmured Cherie beside me as she wiped a plate dry."Blinded them with my shears, then cut off their right hands with the axe I took away from Hatchet Face," I said, scrubbing away. "Then I left a packet of material beside each of them and called emergency services. The packet lays out exactly what they did, so once they get medical attention—and their eyes get fixed, just as soon as Panacea gets around to it—they can stand trial for attempted fraud and suchlike. The reason the cops are calling Dad is because I left his name as a primary contact, by way of the Committee. That way, he can plausibly know about it before Monday, and have enough material to ensure nobody else tries to pull this shit.""Geez." She shook her head. "You'd think they would've learned by now."I shrugged. "As my maternal grandfather used to say before he passed, some folks just gotta pee on the electric fence."It took her a moment to get it, then her eyes widened, and I could see her struggling not to laugh. "He did not!""He totally did."She was still giggling by the time we finished drying the dishes.
<><>
Monday AfternoonBoardwalkSabah looked around the picnic table at the rest of the Brockton Bay Rogues' Guild and wondered when her life had become so complicated. First Bastet and Salvage, then Emily (possibly Spitfire) and Dinah (possibly Oracle) had shown up, and they were all looking at
her
for leadership. Well, maybe not Dinah. She was just looking for a responsible adult."Well, we got a good take on Saturday," she began. "People seem to like the Guild. We're nice, soft, fluffy,
safe
capes. But we can't depend on public goodwill to pay our way all the time, so I've been looking at job opportunities for everyone.""I can probably help with that," Dinah piped up. "Give you the percentage chance of getting a particular job, so you don't waste your time where people are already set against you."Sabah blinked. Dinah had already explained her power, but that was an application she hadn't considered."Huh," said Salvage. "If you can do that for us, kid, it'll help a ton.""Totally." Dinah beamed. "I just have to be careful with my questions.""Uh … guys?" Emily spoke up tentatively. "There's someone coming this way, and he's got PRT with him."Along with everyone else, Sabah turned to look at the newcomer. Wearing a suit and tie and holding an electronic tablet, he was indeed flanked by an armoured (and armed) PRT trooper, who was carrying a large briefcase. As they got closer, she realised that the briefcase was chained to the PRT trooper's wrist.Standing up, she went to meet the two men. "Good afternoon," she said politely. "We aren't bothering anyone, I hope?" Nobody had expressed any particular problem with their presence, but that didn't mean someone hadn't complained anyway."Oh, no. Quite the contrary." The man in the suit held his hand out. "I'm Harold Whittaker, and this is Trooper Kendall. I'm quite pleased to meet you. Your show on Saturday was inspiring."Cautiously, she shook his hand. "I'm Parian, but you probably knew that already. What's this about? Are you a process server or something?"He beamed at her. "Well, I do work as one, but this is different. If we can have the use of the table for a moment, I'll be able to show you. Trooper Kendall?"With the air of someone who'd already done this a thousand times before, Kendall strode over to the table and placed the briefcase on it. Whittaker tucked the tablet under his arm and leaned over the briefcase for a moment. Sabah heard the clicks as the combination was entered, then he flicked the latches. "Now, your colleagues would be Bastet, Salvage, Spitfire and Oracle, correct?"Sabah eyed the briefcase suspiciously. "Those last two might be subject to change, but yes. Why?"Deftly, Whittaker removed five small envelopes from the briefcase before snapping it closed again and passing them out. They literally had faces printed on them, Sabah realised. More to the point, hers had her
mask
printed on it, while Emily and Dinah's envelopes had their current domino masks. "I've been employed by the Brockton Bay Betterment Committee. These contain your stimulus cards, plus the relevant bank details for the accounts. Each card has a PIN attached to it. Memorise this, then destroy the sticker. Each card has one thousand, two hundred dollars on it. You may also use it as a standard savings card. Further stimulus payments will go into the same card. Any questions?""Uh, yeah." Salvage left off staring at the picture of himself in his improved armour. "I'm pretty damn sure I'm not in the system. Howcome I'm even getting this?"Whittaker shrugged. "Someone put you into the system. I've learned not to question this sort of thing.""What sort of thing?" asked Bastet. "And how did you know we were going to be here, in costume?""That's the sort of thing I'm talking about," Whittaker confided. "This morning, we each got a list describing exactly where to find everyone due to receive a stimulus card, and when they would be there. Including pictures." He retrieved his tablet and tapped the screen. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have an appointment with a gentleman just down the way."Sabah watched them go, then slowly sat down again. "Did … that just happen?""It just happened, alright." Salvage opened his envelope and examined the card within. "Damn, this is
sweet. What's this Betterment Committee and stimulus thing all about, anyway?""It's Atropos," Sabah explained. "She's funding improvements to Brockton Bay with the money from the Slaughterhouse Nine, and apparently the money is part of it.""Awesome." Salvage looked at Bastet. "Go you halves on one of them fancy motel rooms, with the room service and stuff?"She grinned and high-fived him. "You're on."
<><>
Around the Same TimeBrockton Bay Betterment CommitteeDanny was standing at the head of the table as the other committee members filed in. By the time everyone he expected was there, two seats were still empty."Good afternoon," he greeted them. "Before we get started, I have a few announcements. First, the stimulus payment rollout started this morning, and is on track to be finished within schedule. Well done, people."There was a light smattering of applause, which he allowed to die down before he continued."Second, the drug rehab clinics are still working well. People are coming in and getting treatment, and everyone is behaving themselves. God willing, this will continue.""You mean, Atropos willing," snarked one of the union men in the committee, sparking a wave of laughter.Danny grinned as well. "I don't care who's in charge, so long as it all keeps working. Now for the third thing." He tapped the two Manila envelopes on the table in front of him. "This is a bit more serious, and it involves Janice Templeton and Paul King.""Yeah, where are they?" asked one of the women from the Mayor's office, looking around. "They should be here for this.""They can't be here for this, because they've both been attempting to skim money from the fund." Danny spoke bluntly, bringing all eyes back to him. "I suspected it, then Atropos brought it to my attention.""Geez, you
talked
to her?" It was the union man who'd spoken again.Danny nodded. "I did. She came to my house and said that something was going to be done about them if they didn't stop trying. I asked her not to kill them, and she agreed. But they
did
keep trying. So …" He took up the envelopes and opened them. "She acted."From each envelope he pulled a colour glossy eight-by-ten, and a sheet of letter-sized paper. The photos he dropped on the table. Those closest to him leaned over to look, then recoiled violently."Christ, what did she do to their
eyes?" demanded the union guy, looking on the verge of retching. "And their
hands?"He'd already looked at the photos; forewarned, he was able to maintain his equilibrium. "The medical reports say their eyes were surgically removed with an extremely sharp instrument. She also hacked off their right hands with, I suspect, an axe. Emergency services were called immediately afterward. They are both in Brockton General Hospital, in a stable condition.""Okay, we get it. Put those away." The woman from the Mayor's office closed her eyes and waved in the general direction of the photos. "You've got proof they were trying to skim?""The police say they do." He slid the photos back into their respective envelopes. "As soon as they're well enough to stand trial, charges will be laid." Pulling out his chair, he sat down."If Atropos had
proof, why didn't she just take it to the cops and let them deal with it?" demanded Dawson Stansfield, one of the other committee members. "She didn't have to do
that
to them as well!""Because she's not a hero." Danny's voice was quiet, but everyone shut up and listened. "She's not here to be nice and wave to the crowds and save kittens from trees. Her aim is to make Brockton Bay a safe place for everyone to live, and she doesn't care who she has to hurt or kill if they ignore her warnings along the way." He tapped the closest envelope with his fingertip. "Janice and Paul forgot that. Let's not make the same mistake."From the looks on the faces of the other members of the Committee, it seemed a few of the others had let that slip their minds, and the reminder was not to their taste."Goddamn, you're a cold one, Hebert." That was Stansfield again. "You can't sit there and tell me you approve of this."Danny shook his head. "No, I don't. But I don't pretend for a second that I can actually prevent it from happening, either. If I hadn't advocated for them, they would've died, I'm certain of it. As it is, they'll have some sort of life after all this. Also, she can be reasoned with, just not tricked or gotten around. Which I have to admit is a step up from a few of the people I've faced across the negotiating table in the past."The union guy nodded in grudging agreement. "So, what's her endgame? What does she get out of this?""You're asking
me?" Danny shrugged. "My best guess is, exactly what we see. A safer, more prosperous Brockton Bay. Lower crime, more jobs, reduced poverty, no drugs on the streets, improved infrastructure, maybe enough money to do something about the ferry and the Boat Graveyard at some point. It's not like she's been secretive about her goals. We even got a literal guideline for how to get it done." He slapped the table lightly with both hands. "So, we've wasted enough time second-guessing our not-so-mysterious benefactor. We're going to need to put out feelers for replacements. Bring me suggestions at the next meeting. Just make sure they understand that playing by the rules is
essential.""Yeah," muttered Stansfield. "No shit."
<><>
Monday EveningTaylor"So where are we going again?" Cherie straightened up from where she was leaning against Dad's car beside me, and looked around. "And where
is
your dad, anyways? We've been waiting
forever."I grinned, knowing it irritated her. "One, you'll find out. Two, he's about thirty seconds away. Three, we've been waiting four minutes and thirty seconds."She rolled her eyes. "It
feels
like forever. And why are we dressed up?"I could understand her distaste for 'dressing up'—the only time her father had put pretty clothing on her was to parade her for men he wanted something out of—but while we were at the Market I'd made sure to steer away from the types of revealing outfits he'd forced her to wear. This time around, I knew she understood there were no ulterior motives going on. "Because we're going out in public, among a lot of other people who will also be dressed up, and I'm pretty sure you don't want to draw attention.""Ah. Okay." Not being in the public eye was something she was definitely fine with. "And you're not going to tell me what's going on?""I'm curious about that, too." Dad rounded the corner of the building and came toward us. "Hi, Cherie. That's a nice outfit. What's the occasion?"She rolled her eyes. "Well, if
you
don't know, and
I
don't know, then the only one here who knows is Taylor. Who
won't tell me.""Don't look at me." He spread his hands. "All
I
know is that Taylor asked me to be finished by seven."If the hint had been any broader, it could've served as a landing strip for a 747. I cheerfully ignored it. "And now we need to head to Arcadia." I gestured at the car. "Teleporting might draw too much attention. So, shall we get going?""Arcadia? What's at Arcadia?" But he was already unlocking the car.I got in the back seat with Cherie. "You'll see."All the way to Arcadia, they tried to wheedle it out of me. Cherie told me I was mean and she wouldn't be my friend anymore, and Dad threatened to just drive us both home, but I held firm (though highly amused).When we pulled up in the Arcadia parking lot, Dad's eyebrows rose when he saw all the other cars already parked there. Then Cherie spotted the purple-striped vans and it stopped being funny for her."Taylor," she said carefully. "What's the PRT doing here? And why are we here, where the PRT are?""Relax," I said airily, passing her a cloth cap I'd bought her. She hastily stuffed her hair up under it, including the red-dyed lock. "They're here for site security, nothing more.""Yes," Dad chimed in. "But site security for
what?"I sighed. It seemed the time for secrets had run its course. "They're debuting a new Ward. Because Arcadia already has a security setup for the Wards who attend here, they let the PRT use their auditorium for this kind of event as well.""Oh." Dad looked enlightened. "But why are
we
here?""Well, I thought I'd bring Cherie along because it could be fun, and I'm bringing you along so you can see a positive outcome for something you helped me out with, a while ago."He frowned. "A Wards debut? How did I help you out with that? And what have
you
got to do with it?"I kept my voice down as we joined the crowd moving in through the doors. "Remember the passenger we took away with us, the day Jack came to town?"It took him a few seconds, then his eyes opened wide. "She's
the Ward? How ...?"Cherie was looking between us like a spectator at a tennis match. "What passenger? Who's Jack? What are you two
talking
about?"I leaned in close to her. Even though she was older than me, I was taller, so it wasn't hard to get my mouth close to her ear. "Before your time. But the new Ward's name is Miss Medic."We managed to claim three seats next to each other, and sat down. Arcadia's auditorium was nicer than Winslow's, but that was kind of a given. Cherie's expression was intensely focused, as she thought over the hints I'd given her. Just as Director Piggot of the PRT finished up a short speech—I got the distinct impression she wanted to be anywhere but there—Cherie sat bolt upright in her seat, her eyes widening in the same way Dad's had."You
have
to be shitting me," she hissed as we stood and applauded briefly."Does this look like the face of someone who's shitting you?" I retorted, just as quietly, once we were sitting down again. Armsmaster was now at the podium, giving his own speech. Where Piggot's subtext had been 'oh god get me out of here',
Armsmaster's was 'I once read a book about giving speeches'.
I was about ninety-five percent sure he was reading it off the HUD in his helmet, and ninety percent sure he hadn't actually written it."But B- uh,
her?" Her expression was that of extreme disbelief. "How does that even
work?""You'll see." I stood and applauded with the rest of the audience. When we sat down again, Armsmaster walked offstage (I fully expected to hear his bike leaving within seconds) and Miss Militia came on, escorting Riley.I had to admit, they'd done a damn good job with her costume. Nowhere to be seen was the Alice dress, or any hint of one. Even
Vista, the most powerful Shaker on the hero side, had been stuck with a skirt, but with Riley they'd bolted in the opposite direction.They'd settled on 'combat medic' as a basic theme, but softened the camo uniform with pastel colours to remind everyone there was a kid in there, and kind of make them look like scrubs. She had a military helmet, kid-sized, with flower decals on it, with a tinted visor to act as a mask while still allowing her broad smile to be seen by one and all. And
boy,
was she smiling. We were all standing and applauding as Miss Militia shepherded her to the podium, the parallels between the two costumes clear for all to see.Miss Militia took the microphone first. "Ladies and gentlemen, the moment you've all been waiting for. Allow me to introduce our newest Ward: Missss ...
Medic!"We applauded, of course. While that was happening, Riley climbed up onto a step that was hidden behind the podium stand, and Miss Militia adjusted the height of the mic for her. I got the impression this wasn't the veteran hero's first rodeo, when introducing Wards."Thank you, Miss Militia," Riley said, and those of us still clapping fell silent. "Thank you, everyone. It's great to be here. It's great to be a
hero,
so I can help people who need it."She paused for breath, so of course we clapped again. Cherie took the opportunity to learn over to me. "She means it. She wants to be a hero!""Uh huh," I replied, but then the applause died down again."When I was younger," Riley went on, "we travelled around a lot. There was no place I could call home, nowhere I could put roots down. We'd just get somewhere, and it seemed we had to move on again. But now I'm here, and I feel more welcomed in Brockton Bay than I ever have before. I want to be the best darned hero you wonderful folks have ever seen!"We applauded again, and I couldn't help grinning at the double meaning of her speech.
Sneaky, Riley. Very sneaky.Miss Militia stepped forward and took over the mic in what had to be a rehearsed move. "And that's our Miss Medic, ladies and gentlemen. We'll take a few questions before we wrap this up."Predictably, the first few were softball questions, seeded into the audience to give Riley some confidence. What are your powers, how do you like the Wards, do you think you'll ever work with Panacea, and so forth. Someone asked if she and Miss Militia were related, and Riley raised a laugh with, "No, but I've been meaning to ask her about her stance on adoption."Then came a question that I suspected they'd been waiting for: would the two of them be teaming up together? Miss Militia fielded that one by saying, "It's always good to have a medic handy, but Miss Medic will be working with all of us. Beyond that, I can't talk about our tactical dispositions in the field."That was when she started wrapping it up. There would be a supervised meet-and-greet with the press (which we weren't), but I'd seen what I needed to. Riley was officially a Ward now, and the brain work Amy had done on her was holding up just fine."Okay, we can go now," I said, getting up. Dad and Cherie were okay to leave as well, so we made it to the exits before the crush.Nobody spoke much on the way to the car, but once we'd gotten in and the doors were closed, Cherie turned to me. "What the
fuck?" she demanded. "What the absolute
fuck? If that was Bonesaw ... I mean, I've
seen
just how bullshit your powers can be, but how in the ever-living
hell
did you pull that shit off? If I hadn't known, if you hadn't spoon-fed that to me ... there's no way I would've ever picked it. Not a hope in hell."I leaned back in my seat, now more satisfied than ever. Cherie's patent incredulity was the icing on the cake. "Same way I stopped those guys from mobbing the drug rehab clinics," I hinted, watching her face."But you
didn't
stop them," she protested. "I
stopped ... them ... from ..." She stopped talking. "Oh."I nodded encouragingly. "Exactly. I got someone who
was not me
to do something I needed doing.""But who?" She frowned again. "Couldn't be Panacea, for two reasons."I batted my eyes innocently at her. "And what two reasons might those be?""Two reasons I'm all of a sudden not so sure about." She mock-glared at me. "Everyone knows she can't do brains, unless she can and isn't telling anyone. And I
was
damn sure that whatever you asked her to do, she'd do the exact opposite out of spite, but now you're smiling in that way that says I'm missing something important.""Mm-hmm." I grinned. "So, you know how I've got a fan club?"She nodded. "Which is
still
not the weirdest thing about this town, but yeah.""Okay, then. Back before the Nine came to town, I was meeting with the head of my fan club and her brother in a park ..."
<><>
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♦ Topic: Finding OutIn: Boards ► Brockton Bay ► New Capes ► AtroposAtropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me)Posted On Jan 18th 2011:Hello to the citizens of my favorite city!(Brockton Bay, if you were wondering).So, this is only going to be a minor post. I have not killed any villains in the last few days. In fact, I haven't killed anyone. Though there has been a large amount of grievous bodily harm, so I suppose you'll have to be satisfied with that.Who have I performed grievous bodily harm on?Well, let's see now. There *were* some people who decided they would open up a loophole by setting up a drug dealing point outside the Brockton Bay city limits. I paid them a visit, explained that why yes, I *can* actually travel outside the city, then torched their stash. And their car. And their shoes (I made them take the shoes off first, because I'm nice like that).One of them actually pulled a knife on me. My good friend Mr Pump Action Shotgun then had a brief conversation with him about how Kneecaps Are A Privilege. He might walk again someday. I hear they're making great strides with artificial knees. (Pun totally intended).There were also a few would-be customers hanging around. I explained to them that if they wanted to come out of town to buy their drugs, then they could just keep on going. They buy drugs, they're not welcome back. I did not go to all this trouble to get rid of the illegal drug trade to have shit like that happen.After that, I waylaid an eighteen-wheeler full of Gesellschaft drugs. It shortly thereafter became a furnace full of drugs. The drivers didn't put up a fight. They even stopped when they saw me. It's like people are learning or something.Gonna have to do something about that idiot in Stuttgart Sud, though.And then there's Janice Templeton and Paul King. They aren't villains. Hell, they didn't even have police records before yesterday. But they *were* doing their best to skim money out of the Betterment Committee, by sabotaging the drug rehab and stimulus programs.This
and
this
happened to them, on Sunday night.I am *not* playing, folks. These people were entrusted with the well-being of Brockton Bay as a whole, and they betrayed that trust. The only reason they're alive is that the chairman of the Committee politely asked me not to kill them, after I had a chat with him about their second warning.(I also may have beaten the crap out of a bunch of Mr King's criminal associates, but that hardly counts.)On the upside, I understand that the stimulus program is kicking along really well. Someone had the bright idea to ask Director Piggot to assign PRT troopers to assist with security in the matter, and what do you know, it worked. So that's a plus.Oh, and I've got one more name for my 'not allowed in Brockton Bay' list: March.I'll get back to you when I've got more thrilling news to recount.Toodles!(Showing page 1 of 27)
►Bagrat
(Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)Replied On Jan 18th 2011:... huh.She's right. It *has* been a quiet couple of days. The stuff she mentioned? Barely even got the PRT's attention.I almost miss the days when you couldn't go twenty-four hours without hearing about some villain's hilariously ironic death.Almost.The last two weeks have basically been an insanely accelerated demonstration of natural selection in action.Kind of reminds me about an old joke I saw floating around online, with a new punchline:"Evolution is a fallacy. What we have today are the creatures Atropos has only given two warnings to."Anyway, like Atropos, I'll get back to you when I've got something to report.
►CBDR
(Constant Bearing Decreasing Range)Replied On Jan 18th 2011:Committee members skimming?In a normal world, it would be seen as business as usual.Too bad for them, it's not a normal world anymore.
►5051riceReplied On Jan 18th 2011:Did you see why the gun exploded? Because I think Atropos put her last bullet *up his barrel*.
►XxVoid_CowboyxXReplied On Jan 18th 2011:@5051rice - after she shot his previous three out of the air.That wasn't a fluke. That was *precision*.
►BrickFrogReplied On Jan 18th 2011:Did she have to blind them and cut their hands off? Really?
►Searching4theLordReplied On Jan 18th 2011:Is it just me or is that punishment more than a little Biblical?Matthew 5:29-30: "If your eye offendeth thee, pluck it out/if your hand offendeth thee, cut it off".
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me)Replied On Jan 18th 2011:It's more Atropos 1:1."If thou screweth with Atropos, she will make sure you can never do it again."End of verse, end of sermon.
►Reave
(Verified PRT Agent)Replied On Jan 18th 2011:I'm pleased to see you left them alive.The offer to talk still stands.No recruitment, just an exchange of views.The lady and her son are doing well, by the way.You did good.
End of Page. 1,
2,
3
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25,
26,
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Relevant Side Story
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
Relevant Side Story
Friday Afternoon, January 21, 2011Protectorate New York Base
Flechette
Lily drew a deep breath, then let it out as she knocked on the office door in front of her.
A moment later, a voice called out from within. "Come in."
She opened the door and stepped inside. Legend wasn't behind his desk, as she'd expected him to be. Instead, he was off to the side, having just stood up from a comfortable chair in front of his large picture window.
"Thank you for seeing me, sir," she said hesitantly, then mentally kicked herself. Of all the times to get second thoughts about what she wanted to ask him, this was the worst.
"No problem at all," he said genially. "Join me, and let's talk about what's troubling you." Casually, he sat down again. "Your request to see me was fairly vague."
"Nothing's troubling me, exactly, sir," she said, but sat down anyway. The chair was very comfortable, and somehow it was easier to talk to Legend when they were both sitting and relaxed. "I just wanted to ask permission for a little time off."
"Oh?" He turned to look at her. "I can't see a reason why not, but when were you thinking of taking time off?"
"Uh, actually, the fifth of February." She paused, then kept going at his inquiring look. "In Brockton Bay, they're doing a fundraiser for their children's cancer ward. Mouse Protector said she's going, to repay Atropos for what she did to Ravioli—I mean Ravager …" She trailed off awkwardly.
Legend chuckled. "Ravioli will do fine. Yes, I remember that. So, Mouse Protector is showing up to put on a show for the kids, and you want to tag along and help out, is that it?"
Lily nodded. "Well, yes. If that's okay, I mean."
"It is definitely okay, young lady." Legend gave her a nod of approval. "This is exactly the sort of heroic initiative I like to see in our Wards."
"Oh, uh, cool! I mean, thank you." All the angst and worry that had been weighing Lily down dissipated like yesterday's fog. "I totally appreciate it."
"No, really. You've earned it." Legend stood up again. "I'll set the paperwork in motion immediately. Who's your current team captain again?"
"Jouster, sir." Lily got up as well. "Do you want me to inform him?"
"No, I'll send the message through channels." He clapped her on the shoulder. "Have a good afternoon."
"Thank you, sir. And thank you again for seeing me." She headed for the door and opened it.
"Not a problem in the world." As she closed the door behind her, he was sitting down behind the desk.
Wow. That was easier than I thought.
<><>
Monday, January 24Boston, Massachusetts
Canary
"... and so, in summary, I am quashing Justice Regan's preliminary findings. Ms Mcabee, you will reimburse Mr Cantrell for his medical costs, plus twenty thousand dollars for emotional pain and suffering. I am also sentencing you to time served plus a five-year suspended sentence. Furthermore, your song lyrics will need to be scrutinised for any potentially harmful commands before you are permitted to perform them in public. Be aware: you
are
on probation for your actions. Is there anything about this that is unclear?"
Paige opened her mouth—it isn't fair! What about
my
pain and suffering?—but then she felt Mr Calle's hand on her arm and she shut it again.
"It is all eminently clear, your Honor," he said smoothly. "My client understands perfectly."
"Very good." The stern woman eyed Paige, then nodded. "You will receive an itemised list of the medical costs from the bailiff, which you will be expected to pay within one month." The gavel banged.
"But—your Honor!" All too late, her ex started up from where he sat on the opposite side of the courtroom.
The judge turned her basilisk glare upon him. "Mr Cantrell, I have rendered my judgement, and it is final. Outbursts are not permitted in my courtroom. If Ms Mcabee fails to reimburse you for the amount found in today's judgement within thirty days, then we will be revisiting this matter. But until then, this is
over. Do you understand?" Her entire attitude stated that he'd
better
understand.
The district attorney, who'd done his best to dent Paige's story, but had signally failed against Calle's imperturbable demeanour, whispered to her ex and more or less forced him back into his seat. "He understands, your Honor," he assured the judge.
"Good. We're done here."
Paige stood at the bailiff's command of 'all rise', but her head was spinning. A week ago, she'd been essentially locked in solitary; all guards wore hearing protection, and any court appearance had involved a torturous metal gag and heavy metal chains. But everything had changed overnight, a new judge had taken the case, and none other than Quinn Calle had shown up as her lawyer, paid for by her suddenly unfrozen accounts. He'd demanded a bench trial, which the court had been obliged to supply, and everything had gone on from there.
"So, what does all that mean?" she asked quietly, once the judge had left the courtroom. "Did we win or did we lose?"
"Oh, we won, but we made it look like we lost." Calle seemed quite pleased with himself. "Make no mistake, Ms Mcabee, the judiciary had you solidly in their sights. They were determined to make an example out of you. However, they overreached, which gave certain people some much-needed leverage. Trust me, this is the best possible judgement you could've gotten in the matter."
"I—" Paige cut herself off as her ex bulled toward them. "What do
you
want? You're getting twenty thousand dollars from me. You should be happy now."
"I deserve more than that!" He was building himself up to a fine head of steam. "You made me
cut my fucking dick off and shove it up my ass!"
Anger rose in her. "It's not my fault that's your go-to when someone tells you to go eff yourself!"
"To do what?" He leaned in. "Did you just Master me again?"
"Nice try, Mr Cantrell." Quinn Calle smoothly inserted himself between the two of them. "I'm fully aware of the limitations of Ms Mcabee's powers, and I know for a
fact
that she hasn't sung a note in another person's hearing in months. Also, that listening to recordings of her songs reduces the effect considerably. Merely hearing her talk will not cause Mastery. For example: I have been speaking with her all day. Ms Mcabee, give me a command to perform a harmless act, please."
Paige swallowed, hoping he knew what he was doing. "Mr Calle, stand on one foot."
Nothing happened. Both his feet remained planted firmly on the ground.
"You see?" He smiled urbanely at her ex. "Be aware that I will be taking note of this attempt to harass my client, now that the case has been dealt with. Much more of this, and we might just be able to get those twenty thousand dollars back off you, plus extra for emotional pain and suffering."
The asshole glared at both of them. "Fuck you!" Turning, he stormed away again.
Paige took a deep breath, aware of how fast her heart was beating. "I literally cannot tell you how much I appreciate your help. I don't know how bad it would've gotten, but it was pretty horrible there for a while."
"As I said, you were in their crosshairs. You got a punitive fine; plus, you're going to have to keep your nose clean for the next five years. That should satisfy the people who want to see you punished for simply being a Master." He gave her a sly grin. "I normally represent much worse people than you. It's always fun to poke a stick in the eye of the judiciary whenever they think they can railroad capes just because they're capes."
"But there's got to be more to it." Paige
knew
she wasn't special in the big picture. "Why you? Why
me?"
"An entirely relevant question." He took his phone from his pocket and speed-dialled a number. "Hello? Yes, it came out the way I expected. We're on the way out of the courthouse now. Here, I'll give her the phone."
Her mind now buzzing with curiosity, Paige accepted the phone and held it to her ear. "Hello?"
"Hello, Ms Mcabee."
The voice held a Canadian accent. "This is Dragon. Do you know who I am?"
Paige blinked. "What …
the
Dragon? The superhero?"
"Correct."
There was a smile in the voice now. "When I saw the raw deal you were getting, I did a little poking and prodding. I'm pleased it turned out as well as it did."
"What?" Paige stopped in her tracks and leaned against the wall. "You
did that for me? You got my funds released, and got Mr Calle to represent me? I-I mean, thank you! I can't thank you enough! But … but
why?"
"Because I know what it's like to be unfairly judged and punished for something that's not my fault. However, I can't take all the credit for how smoothly everything has gone. Just on my own, all my protests would've gone unheeded. So, I asked a … friend, shall we say, to lend some weight to my arguments."
"Good God." Paige saw a seat nearby and dropped into it, because her knees weren't really up to the job right then. "Who's your friend?
Who
has that kind of pull? Was it Alexandria, or someone else in the Triumvirate? Or aren't I allowed to know?"
"Not Alexandria, or either of the others."
Now she sounded a little sad.
"I went to them first. They wanted nothing to do with the case. It was very much a situation of 'let the legal system do its job'. Even if the judiciary
was
unfairly targeting you."
"Um. Okay. So … who helped? Who's got that sort of pull?"
There was a slight pause.
"Have you ever heard of Atropos?"
Paige had definitely heard of Atropos.
She'd first come across the name when she got her own phone back, a week ago. Scrolling through to find out what she'd missed out on in her months of being incommunicado, she'd encountered a couple of what she'd thought were sensationalised news articles, but when she followed them up … they weren't.
Over the course of two weeks, the villain-slash-vigilante-slash-antihero-slash-who-knew-what had taken the northeast of the United States by storm. The
known
casualty list included Lung, Kaiser, Heartbreaker, Butcher and the Teeth, as well as the
Slaughterhouse Nine; the recorded footage was
insane, and Atropos' PHO thread read like something written by a genial horror movie slasher.
She had a fan club. A
fan club.
It was a good thing Paige was already sitting down, because if she hadn't been, she would've ended up on the floor. "Yeah. I've heard of her. Sh-she
helped me out?"
Oh, god. Now I owe a serial killer a debt. Maybe I'd be better off back in that cell.
The feeling of being between a rock and a hard place was coming back again.
"It was more a case of me asking her if I could use her name to get results, and her agreeing. As soon as Regan heard that she was interested in making sure the case would be fairly adjudicated, he basically tossed all the paperwork in the air and walked away from it."
"Oh. So, she didn't actually murder anyone to get me out of it. I suppose that's a good thing." The next question needed to be asked, even though she didn't want to ask it. "So … uh, what does she want from me, in return?" She didn't even want to think about the ramifications of Dragon being friendly with a mass murderer. Some things just didn't bear close scrutiny.
"Well, as it turns out, the Brockton Bay General Hospital children's oncology ward is having a fundraiser on the fifth of February. She said if you were able to make an appearance and put on a show for the kids, she'd be happy with that."
Paige's brain screeched to a halt so abruptly, smoke should've been drifting out her ears. "Oncology ward? A charity show for kids with cancer?" This did
not
go together with 'remorseless serial killer'. "That's all she wants?"
"That's all. Oh, she might turn up for a signed selfie with you. She does that."
There was resignation in Dragon's voice now.
"Would … would she be angry if I didn't? Make an appearance, I mean? Or agree to a selfie?"
"Hmm."
Dragon paused for a moment. "Probably not, to be honest. She's fully aware of the impact of her reputation. But if you were to ask me? I'd say, do it. She's an extremely reasonable person, and as of right now, Brockton Bay is one of the safest places in the United States."
"So … she
isn't
likely to shoot me if she takes offence to something in one of my songs?"
Dragon actually laughed out loud. "No … no, she isn't. We're more frenemies than actual friends, but I do know this much about her. Atropos has exactly zero fucks to give. Just don't dilute or tarnish her brand in any way, and you'll be perfectly fine."
Paige made a mental note.
Nothing about Atropos in any of my songs, got it.
"I see. I will seriously think about it." Which, both of them knew, meant that she'd say yes.
"Thank you. I appreciate it."
"No, thank
you. For everything." Paige ended the call, and sat there looking at the phone.
What have I gotten myself into?
One way or another, she figured, she'd find out.
<><>
Sunday, January 30
New York
"Hey, March?"
May looked up from the book she was reading, an illustrated version of Lewis Carroll's classic, to where her minion was leaning in through the doorway. "Yeah?"
The kid—Barry or Gary or something like that, she couldn't be bothered remembering their names—sucked in a nervous breath. "I heard a whisper. Flechette's going to Brockton Bay on the fifth for some charity show."
Setting a bookmark in place, May sat up. "Really."
"Yeah. They say Legend's real pleased with her for taking the initiative like that."
A slow smile spread across May's face.
"Really."
She gestured, a flip of the hand. "Got it. Go away."
He vanished from the doorway. May closed the book and set it aside, thinking hard.
Flechette wanted to make herself look good by attending a charity show, huh?
The first thought May had was to go to Brockton Bay itself and wreck the show, making it look like Flechette's fault, but common sense prevailed. Brockton Bay had acquired a Reputation among criminal capes; more to the point, Atropos had expressly forbidden March from going there. Atropos had a Thinker power that allowed her to know when anyone was about to mess with her town, that much was obvious. Heartbreaker had only been allowed to come in as far as he did because Atropos wanted to kill him, and Damsel of Distress had been met with a shotgun to the back of the head.
Challenging Atropos on her own turf, when the serial killer probably knew she was coming, would possibly end badly. But there was more than one way to skin that particular feline.
How to make sure Flechette can't look good at the show without actually being there myself … hmm.
The solution, when she arrived at it, was simple.
Make sure Flechette never got there.
Her smile spread, Cheshire Cat-like, under her mask.
Now to find out her patrol schedule.
Flechette was going to regret ever trying to walk away from the little cat-and-mouse game they had going.
<><>
Monday Afternoon, January 31Boardwalk
Parian
"Hey, Parian!" Wearing just her goggles to hide her identity, Oracle smiled in greeting as Sabah climbed off the six-legged horse. Bastet, who was sharing what appeared to be a Fugly's seafood selection with Spitfire—who was wearing a domino mask, with her dragon mask lying on the table—looked up and waved. A moment later, Spitfire shyly did the same.
"Hi, all." Sabah sat down, smoothing her skirts, and surveyed the others with quiet pride. They weren't a superhero team, but they were still
her
Rogues' Guild. Since they'd first officially become a group, they'd taken to meeting at the same table where they'd received their stimulus cards. Nobody wanted to come right out and call it their 'lucky' table, but she kind of felt that way herself. "Where's Salvage? I wanted to go over ideas for next Saturday."
"He's not far away," Bastet said cheerfully. "Started his new job today."
It was amazing what a difference just a few weeks of nutritious food and sleeping on actual beds had made. Gone was the hangdog, desperate young woman who had almost pleaded with Sabah for a chance to be part of a bigger thing, so she didn't have to eat out of (and sleep in) dumpsters anymore. Now, Bastet was confident, no longer scrawny, and her hair was shiny and well-kept rather than matted and dull.
"Oh, he got it?" Sabah was pleased. "That's amazing."
"Well, he
did
have a seventy-three point nine four three percent chance of—" Oracle began, then squawked as Bastet grabbed her around the neck and administered a gentle noogie.
"Yes, we got it," the kineticist chuckled. "You're awesome, and we all know it. Now, what about Spitfire? You got any tips for her?"
Oracle emerged from the hold with her hair ruffled but her eyes were sparkling with amusement. She stole a calamari ring from Bastet's side of the food, then stuck out her tongue at the older woman. "Yeah, actually. I was talking to my cousin Rory, and he said that out at the College they need to use really nasty chemicals to scour out some of their reaction containers. If they didn't have to keep those chemicals stored onsite, with all the safety precautions and stuff, they'd probably save a bunch of money." She turned to look at Spitfire. "I figure you've got a seventy-six point nine one three percent chance of getting an ongoing job there."
"What, really?" Spitfire looked startled.
"'s what my power says." Oracle took a bite out of the calamari ring. "Mmm, nice."
"Oh, hey, there's the big guy now." Bastet waved. "Yo! Sal! Over here! Saved you some curly fries!"
"Hell yeah, they're the best." Salvage clomped over to them; like Bastet, he was looking considerably more upbeat, and healthier, than when Sabah first met him. Even his armour looked sleeker, now that he had better tools to maintain it with. "Hey, guys. Sorry I'm late. Boss wanted to talk to me about getting my forklift ticket. That'll be even more dollars in my pay packet."
"Forklift?" Sabah frowned. "Can that armour even fit on a forklift?"
He chuckled and grabbed some curly fries. "My armour
is
the damn forklift. I'll be learning the safety rules they operate by, so I can stand in for one in tight spaces and stuff. Also, I'll be adding flashers and a beeper for backing up."
"Ha! All
right!" Bastet high-fived him. "You da
man."
"That's really good," Sabah agreed. "You've done well."
He hunched a metallic shoulder. "Couldn't have done it without your coaching, or Oracle figuring out who was most likely to hire me on."
"Well,
duh." Bastet stole his cap and put it on her own head. "We're a
team.
We look out for each other."
"Yeah, we do." He ignored the theft in favour of shoving a curly fry into his mouth. "Damn, that's good."
"So, you said something about going over ideas for next Saturday?" Oracle prompted.
"Oh. Yes." Sabah took a deep breath. "There's that fundraiser charity show at Brockton General. Atropos suggested we put on a display as the Rogues' Guild. That sort of publicity can only be good for us, right?"
For a long moment, she thought they were going to turn the idea down, but instead they looked thoughtful. "Atropos
did
save our asses with Bastard Son," Bastet mused. "We kind of owe her."
Salvage frowned. "Yeah, but what kind of show could we put on that'll make people want to donate lots of money? We do okay on the Boardwalk, but that's because nobody's expecting anything amazing. We don't really have a single theme that ties us together, you know?"
Spitfire half-raised her hand. "I might have an idea. I saw on social media that Canary's going to be singing a few songs. It'll be her first gig since the trial. What if we kinda ... helped her out with
her
act? I mean, she's a fellow rogue and stuff."
Sabah blinked, impressed. That had been perhaps the longest speech she'd heard out of the withdrawn teen since she'd joined the Rogues' Guild. It was also a good idea. "We can definitely make the offer," she said. "I like it."
"Yeah." Bastet slapped Spitfire on the shoulder. "Great idea."
Ducking her head, Spitfire blushed pink. But a tiny smile crossed her face at the same time.
<><>
Friday, February 4, 2011A Seedy New York City Alleyway
March
May surveyed the alleyway and smiled under her mask. This, she decided, would do perfectly. It was a dead end, so Flechette wouldn't be able to run. This would give May all the time she needed to beat her clustermate just badly enough that Flechette wouldn't be able to go to Brockton Bay and show off for the charity deal.
She would let Flechette escape in the end, of course; this part of the game was all about catch and release. And letting Flechette know that she was being released would be almost as demoralising as catching her and keeping her, without all the hassle of dealing with escape attempts. This was a game she could play over and over.
Loosening the rapier in its sheath, she took up her position in the depths of a shadow just within the mouth of the alley. Flechette's behavioural patterns would bring her just past the mouth of this alley, where May would be able to force her inside and disable her comms before she was able to call for help. And then, May would have all the time in the—
Someone tapped her on the shoulder.
There should be nobody in the alley! I checked!
Turning with all the speed she was capable of, May drew her rapier with a rapid serpentine hiss. She found herself facing a tall, black-costumed figure; the suit and tie and morph mask marked her opponent out as the one person she was staying away from Brockton Bay to avoid. But that was secondary to the fact that a pair of heavy shears had just rapped her over the knuckles, forcing her to drop the rapier.
"Hi." Atropos sounded positively upbeat. "Stay away from Flechette."
Despite the fact that she'd just been expertly disarmed, May knew the fight was far from finished. She knew three different ways of kicking the sword back into her hand, and she'd already watched enough footage of Atropos fighting to be able to dance between the raindrops once they got started. But first, she needed to distract the extremely adept killer in front of her so she could regain the rapier.
"Really? What's she to you?" she sneered, preparing to kick the rapier upward with the toe of her boot. "This isn't Brockton Bay. You're in New York now—"
Atropos' boot flicked out. There had been zero warning, no shifts of her weight. The toe struck the rapier, propelling it into the air. Already calculating how to catch it, May shifted—
And an elbow arrived like a freight train, smashing into May's jaw and brutally driving her sideways. She managed to roll with it just enough that she wasn't knocked cold, but the world spun in great looping circles and she was pretty sure her jaw was broken.
"I wasn't asking, and I wasn't looking for an answer." Atropos' tone hadn't changed; she might have been discussing the weather. "I was telling you. You will leave Flechette alone."
She now held the rapier, May saw. Worse, she was between May and the exit to the alley. But she didn't attack, even though she had to know she had the advantage.
May's head was clearing now. A couple of her teeth had come loose in her mouth, and she surreptitiously spat them out into her mask, along with some blood. She didn't know what brand of combat Thinker Atropos was, but the serial killer for damn sure had never gone up against someone like her.
The rapier was the big problem. It had reach, and could easily be brought back into line. But Atropos wasn't holding it like an expert, or even a talented amateur. Her grip was all wrong, and the tip was wandering all over the place.
Still, with those shears in play, it would be hard to land a hit on Atropos' upper body or head. So instead, she'd come in against the rapier, brush it out of the way, and land a solid kick against Atropos' kneecap before disengaging. It would be a lot harder to fight if—
Atropos was a fluid blur of motion. The rapier licked out toward her left shoulder like silver flame. She fell back, deflected a slash from the shears with her right hand, then realised far too late that they'd both been feints. The heel of Atropos' boot smashed into the side of her knee; cartilage tore, tendons popped, and she bit off a scream as her knee joint bent in a direction it was absolutely not designed to go.
May almost collapsed, but she managed to catch herself with one hand up against the wall, her bad leg trailing uselessly behind her. Air hissed in and out between the teeth she had left. She was only just now starting to realise the depth of the shit she was in.
Atropos was faster than her, and refused to move to any pattern her power could analyse and beat. Twice now, May had been taken unawares while facing her. Both were blows that could've taken her out of the fight if Atropos had chosen to capitalise on them, but she hadn't.
She was drawing this out, just like May herself liked to do.
It was
not
a pleasant feeling.
"Now, I've warned you twice to leave Flechette alone." Atropos sauntered forward, the rapier once more held carelessly in her hand. "She
is
important to me. Important enough to protect with lethal force. Is that understood? Nod if you understand."
Grudgingly, knowing with absolute certainty that she would die if she did anything else, May nodded.
"Good." Atropos may even have smiled, but the morph mask made it impossible to tell. "So, you may be under the misapprehension that I came here to kill you. That's not true. If I had, you'd already be dead, probably in a highly ironic and somewhat hilarious fashion. As it is—"
The rapier speared forward, pinking May's throat. One inch farther in and she would be dead, she knew. It withdrew, then made another lightning jab, this time going between her ribs just far enough to start her bleeding, but not hit anything vital. The message was loud and clear.
I could've killed you at any time. I
can
kill you at any time.
Just as May was assimilating that, Atropos stepped in and smacked her on the temple with the guard of the rapier. It was the final insult to her abused body. As May's vision began to darken, Atropos leaned in close. "You'll survive …" Her voice dropped to a whisper. "… if you leave Flechette alone."
May's legs gave way then; Atropos helped her down, turning her to lie on her left side. As Atropos straightened up and stepped away, May heard the tones of a cell-phone. "Yes, ambulance and PRT, please." Atropos' tone was just as upbeat as ever. "I just saw a supervillain in an alleyway. She looked pretty beat up. Wearing a stupid-looking rabbit mask. Can't miss her."
She wandered out of the alleyway, taking the rapier with her and still talking on the phone. Her voice faded as she went out of sight.
A moment later, Flechette headed past the mouth of her alley on her patrol. May watched her go; just before she lost consciousness altogether, one last thought crossed her mind.
Fuck.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
Relevant Side Story
Relevant Side Story
February 5, 2011; 08:05 AMNew York City Protectorate Headquarters
Flechette
"Hey Flechette, wait up!"
Lily paused and looked around as Jouster used a speed burst to catch up with her. "What's up? The transport to Brockton Bay leaves in five minutes."
"Yeah, that's what I wanted to talk to you about." His expression was serious. "Please be careful while you're there. I've heard crazy things about that place."
"About Atropos, you mean." She raised an eyebrow. "When we met her, she was nothing but nice to us. I mean, you were there too. You saw it. She took
selfies."
"And she's also
murdered
a whole bunch of capes in Brockton Bay, and she cut out those people's eyes, and chopped off their hands!" Glancing around, he took a breath, evidently trying to calm himself down. "Look, what I'm trying to say is that she can't be trusted. She could be nice as pie one second, then decide to put you on her own personal murder list the next."
Lily shook her head. "Um, no. That's not what I've seen. Every single person she's killed, except maybe Oni Lee, she gave ample warning to. She's really, really predictable. I mean, I'm not saying I approve of how she's killed all those people, but she does actually warn people first."
He bit his lip. "That might be true, but I still want you to be careful. If you see her again, don't engage, don't even go near her. Get the hell out of there. Okay?"
"I appreciate the advice." She thought he was being far too alarmist, but she didn't intend to provoke Atropos anyway. That was more a matter of basic common sense than any particular worry about the black-clad cape's intentions. Also, Atropos had an amazing sense of humour, if what she'd done to Ravioli was any indication. "Was there anything else?"
"Not really—wait, yeah." He held up one finger. "Yesterday, they got a call about a downed villain right near where you started your patrol. Injured, still alive. Turned out to be March. You didn't run into her, did you?"
"Ugh, no." Lily grimaced. She just wished March would leave her the fuck
alone.
Every time she shifted to a different Wards team, March showed up with a new bunch of capes and engaged her group with brutal efficiency. It was like the military-themed cape was determined to ruin her career as a hero. "Who got her? I'd like to send them a thank-you card."
He shrugged. "That's the thing. We don't know. Whoever it was busted her jaw and wrecked her right knee, then knocked her out. Right now, she's handcuffed to a hospital bed with two armed guards. She's not really coherent yet, but even if she was, she can't talk worth a damn." He grinned suddenly. "Oh, and whoever it was took her rapier, after poking her a couple of times with it."
"Oh, boy." That would piss off March more than anything else. She loved using that rapier to make people look stupid. Which raised another concern; if someone could give March a beatdown of that calibre
and
make off with her rapier, it meant there was a new player in town.
There goes the status quo. "Who called it in?"
"No idea. No voiceprint matches in the system, but it sounded like a girl about our age. Whoever it is, I'd like to shake their hand, especially if it gets March off the streets and out of our hair."
"Yeah, no shit." She held up her fist for him to bump. "Wish me luck. And I promise to only say nice things to Atropos, if I meet her again. Okay?"
He sighed. "Okay. Just take care." His fist tapped hers. "Now go, or you'll be late."
"Yes, boss." She dashed for the elevator.
All the way up to the roof helipad, she puzzled over who could have gotten the drop on March. There weren't many purely physical-based parahumans in or around New York who also had the moves to take on someone as hard to tag as March was. In fact, the number approached zero. It couldn't
be
zero—someone had evidently done it—but who it could've been, she had no idea.
As she came out on the rooftop, the transport chopper's rotors were just starting to lazily turn. Trotting across the tarmac while keeping her head down, she climbed on board and began to strap herself in. The arbalest, she strapped into the next seat over. "This is the transport to Brockton Bay, right?" It was always good to make sure.
"Certainly is." The pilot's name was Jake; she'd flown with him before. He was brisk and professional, and kept a photo of his wife taped to the console. "Just waiting on one more."
"One more? Who?" She frowned. Nobody else on the team had mentioned they were going to Brockton Bay.
"Yours truly, duh." Mouse Protector swung herself on board and dropped into a seat. "You didn't think I was planning to
walk
all the way there, did you?"
"Ah, right. Good point." She tilted her head as the engines began to spool up in earnest. "So, how'd you talk Director Wilkins into letting you ride along?" It would've taken more than Legend's say-so, she knew that much.
Mouse Protector grinned at her. "Told her I'd make sure to keep an eye on you while we were there, and protect you from scary Atropos, woooo." She wiggled her fingers to emulate spookiness, then went back to strapping herself in.
"Hah, gotcha." Flechette grinned back, then settled in for the ride as the chopper began to take off. She didn't know exactly what to expect when she got to Brockton Bay, but she could definitely think of worse travelling companions than the mouse-themed cape.
<><>
Philadelphia Parahuman Asylum
Garotte
"Mrs Yamada!" Sveta broke out into a beaming smile. "It's so good to see you again!" She worked at keeping her tendrils under control; she really,
really
wanted to be able to talk to Mrs Yamada face to face, and that would only work if her powers weren't trying to kill the therapist at the time.
"I'm pleased to see you, too." Mrs Yamada's smile was visible through the faceplate on the protective suit, and her voice was easily audible via the speakers. "Have you been doing your exercises? You seem to have better self-control."
"Yes, I have." Sveta breathed carefully as Mrs Yamada stepped into the cell.
Not enemy, not danger. Do not attack. Not enemy.
"I've been wanting to talk to you."
"I got the message, yes." Mrs Yamada sounded contrite. "I wish I could've gotten here sooner, but I had other obligations that I couldn't put aside. But I'm here now. What did you want to talk about?"
"I want to go to Brockton Bay." The words just slipped out, bypassing her carefully laid-out speech. She mentally cringed, and her tendrils twitched.
No. Do not attack.
"Sorry, um, I mean … is it possible?
Could
I go? Please?"
"Hmm." Mrs Yamada frowned thoughtfully. "It shouldn't be
too
hard to give you safe containment for the trip, but … why? What's in Brockton Bay? You do know we don't have facilities like this there, right?"
"No, no, I know that."
She hasn't said no yet, she hasn't said no yet.
"Atropos is in Brockton Bay. She can kill powers. I saw it on PHO. It's really real. And … I, uh, already asked her, and she said that if I can get to Brockton Bay, she'd kill my powers and then get a friend to fix me."
Mrs Yamada paused, then gave her a serious look. "Atropos. You've asked Atropos to
kill
your powers."
"Um, yes?"
It's not a stupid idea, it's not a stupid idea …
When the therapist spoke again, her voice was soothing. "Sveta dear, you are aware that she might just kill you instead, right?"
Sveta was definitely aware of that. "Yes, I've thought about it. They tried hard enough to kill me before they captured me. If I ever escape, then I'll probably kill more people. Best case, she kills my powers and I'm free of them forever. Worst case, she kills me, and I'm
still
free of them."
Mrs Yamada sighed. "I will admit, I have trouble thinking like that. However, I also know I'm not in your specific position. I'll speak to the Director and see if something can be worked out."
And she would, too. Mrs Yamada had never lied to Sveta yet. "Thank you. I appreciate it so much."
"Well, it's clear this is something you're set on, and it's a good thing to have achievable goals. I just hope you get what you need out of it." The therapist smiled as she changed conversational gears. "So, how have you been? Are you keeping up your dream journal?"
"Um, yes, actually." Sveta directed a couple of her more compliant tendrils to where she kept her journal on a shelf. "I remembered being on a fishing boat. Not sure what we were catching, though."
"Well, that's definitely a good start." Mrs Yamada accepted the notebook and paged through it. "This is good. Lots of detail."
"Thank you." Sveta felt herself relaxing, her tendrils twitching less. It had been an interminable wait for Mrs Yamada to show up, but now she was here, and things could start happening.
Brockton Bay, here I come.
Maybe.
<><>
Brockton Bay
Canary
Paige swung down out of the van and headed around to the back. She hadn't been able to pull together any kind of band at short notice, or even hire roadies, especially given that the charity aspect of the gig meant no big paycheck at the end. Which meant that she'd be stuck dragging this stuff out of the van and setting it up herself. Rough work, but she'd doubled as a roadie herself more than once before she hit the big time, so she knew how everything went together. It was just going to be an absolute pain to get set up, working solo, before the actual event started.
Opening up the back doors, she eyed the gear waiting for her, and sighed.
Oh, well. It's not going to set itself up.
"Ah … excuse me? Canary?"
Wow, that was fast. I didn't know I had any fans in Brockton Bay. Apart from Atropos, of course.
Turning around, she surveyed the small group of capes before her. None of them were Atropos, though the kid's costume was definitely inspired by the look.
The one who'd spoken looked like a porcelain doll, with a literal doll-face mask and gleaming golden curls for hair, as well as a floofy fancy doll's dress. Flanking her were a guy in a metal powersuit with goggles and a train conductor's cap, and a woman in an Egyptian themed costume. The Tinker (he couldn't be anything else) had lights built into the shoulders of the suit, while the woman's costume had a cat-themed mask, as well as ribbons draped here and there.
Finishing out the group were the kid in the Atropos-lite costume, sporting a fedora, a full face-mask and a heavy coat; and a blue humanoid plush dragon, complete with wings and tail, wearing a basic red costume over the top. Behind everyone else stood two giant stuffed animals: a six-legged horse and a purple gorilla.
"Uh, yeah, that's me," she said cautiously. "The question is … who are
you?"
"We're the Brockton Bay Rogues' Guild," the doll-faced woman said, as if that made perfect sense. "I'm Parian, and this is Bastet, Salvage, Oracle and Spitfire. We're here to help you out, if you want."
Paige blinked. "What, really? Do you know how to set up a stage and musical instruments?"
"Nope," said the power-armoured guy, who just had to be Salvage. "But I listen good, and I just got my forklift ticket, so I know how to move heavy stuff around safely. You tell us what to do, and we'll do it."
"I can't pay you," Paige said, just to make sure they knew it. "This is basically me advertising my presence back on the music scene."
"It's good advertising for us, too," Parian agreed.
"Yeah." That was Bastet. "We're trying to boost our image in the city, and we owe Atropos a solid, so here we are."
"Atropos?" Paige blinked. "Do you …
know
her?"
"Know her? Hah." Salvage snorted. "She saved our sorry asses when Bastard Son came to town. The way she went through his minions, now
that
was a thing of beauty. She's damn good at what she does."
That was definitely something Paige could believe. "Okay, I think we can set up just over there. If you can get the bits of the stage out and stack them over there, I'll show you how to put them together." She paused, suddenly realising she was missing a bet. "Wait, do any of you sing or play an instrument?"
There was a pause as they each looked awkwardly at each other. Then Bastet nudged Spitfire. "Hey, didn't you tell me how your mom used to make you take piano lessons and stuff?"
The fluffy blue dragon managed to look embarrassed just from posture. "Yeah, but I wouldn't say I'm
good
at it."
Paige blinked, realising for the first time that it was a girl in there. "That's okay. This isn't a professional gig. I'll try you out once we get set up, and see how you are with a simple backup tune."
"Uh, I'm no musician," Salvage ventured, "but I can build a timer into my armour so I can do the same beats on a drum over and over, if that works for you."
"And me and the boss here can show off our rad dance moves," Bastet offered. "Hey, Oracle. If we all pitch in like that, what are the odds of a successful show?"
There was a pause, then the kid tilted her head slightly. "Eighty-one point seven six seven one percent," she said, her voice echoing slightly inside her mask.
"I have to say, that's better odds than some of my other gigs," Paige admitted. "Okay, you're on. Let's see what you can do."
As they began to carefully unload the instruments, she began to allow herself to hope that this might work out after all.
<><>
■
PRIVATE MESSAGETo: AtroposFrom: AssaultSubject: Just a casual question
Hi there,I couldn't help noticing that you've specified that members of the totally-not-a-real-thing group called Cauldron are not allowed into Brockton Bay. Does this extend to people who've bought powers from them? In fact, what's your view on people like that?Asking for a friend.
■
<><>
Brockton Bay PRT Building
Flechette
As the rotors spun down, Lily unfastened the five-point straps that held her in the aircraft. Taking the arbalest with her, she jumped out of the aircraft behind Mouse Protector. As they headed across the rooftop toward the guarded entrance, a PRT officer intercepted them.
"Welcome to Brockton Bay," he said. "I'm Captain Reeves. Director Piggot sent word that she wanted to see both of you in her office as soon as you touched down."
"She did, did she?" Mouse Protector sounded amused. "Good luck with enforcing that. I'm an independent. My chain of command starts and ends with
me."
Reeves was unruffled. "She said to say that it wasn't an order in your case, but a request. This is a brand new SOP, to be used for any new heroes in town. You're just the first, is all."
"Really." Now Mouse Protector was outright grinning. "This isn't to do with Atropos and how we should avoid antagonising her by any chance, is it?"
"Very likely." Reeves' tone indicated that he really didn't give a fuck anymore. "She knows of your history with Atropos. Still wants to see you."
"Huh." Mouse Protector nodded slowly. "Okay, let's go see the wizard then."
Lily accompanied her into the roof entrance, and they rode the elevator down in silence; Mouse Protector because she didn't seem to have anything to say, and Lily because she wasn't sure what questions to ask. While Lily had never been in the building before, Mouse Protector seemed to know exactly where they were going.
When they got to Director Piggot's office, the secretary simply waved them through. Taking hold of the door handle, Mouse Protector whipped it open in one smart motion, then sprang into the room with a flourish. "Never fear, Mouse Protector is here!"
"Of course you are." The woman behind the desk looked tired, Lily decided as she entered the office with rather less fanfare. "Mouse Protector, Flechette, please sit down."
"Whatever happened to 'take a chair'?" asked Mouse Protector as she spun one of the chairs around and straddled it with her arms crossed on the backrest. Lily sat and waited to find out what the Director wanted.
"Assault took a chair," Piggot explained briefly. "All the way down to the Wards' base. Do you understand why I'm talking to you?"
"Something something Atropos is dangerous something something," Mouse Protector quipped. "Except you already know we've met her."
"Yes." The Director tapped a Manila folder on her desk. "This is Legend's report on the Ravager encounter in New York. I have read it through very carefully. It mentions the fundraiser you're attending … and that Atropos seems to be invested in making sure it goes off successfully."
Mouse Protector nodded. "I got that impression myself. So why bring us in here to tell us something we both already knew?"
Director Piggot barely reacted to the mild jab. "Because you will be the only superheroes officially on site. I want you to keep your heads on a swivel at all times, for even the slightest problem that might threaten the fundraiser in any way. If a problem does happen, you are to ensure that it ceases to be a problem
immediately."
Leaning back, Mouse Protector eyed the Director. "Wow, that's pretty damn direct. Not that I would've done anything different, but why are you so insistent on this? I never would've thought you were interested in staying in Atropos' good books."
Piggot snorted in what might've been grim amusement. "I'm not. In all honesty, I don't give a hoot in hell what she thinks of me. But you weren't here during the first two weeks. She killed two capes a day, on average, for twelve days straight. And that's not even counting the mooks, minions and idiots who didn't know well enough to stand down when they were looking Death in the eye. For the first four days of it, I literally couldn't sit down at my desk without getting confirmation that the supervillain she'd said she would kill overnight had died exactly when she'd said they would, despite their best efforts—and
our
best efforts—to the contrary."
"Okay, yeah, I can't top that." Mouse Protector shook her head. "She definitely doesn't strike me as someone who takes orders from authority well, or at all."
The Director gave her a medium-dirty look. "She hasn't killed anyone in days, and I want to keep it that way. So, if anyone disrupts this fundraiser for whatever stupid reason, I want you to get there first and stop them before they literally sign their own death warrant. Understood?"
"Understood, ma'am, but …" Lily hesitated. "Why aren't you just surrounding the event with troopers?"
Director Piggot pinched her lips together. "Because that might disrupt it. You can see how reluctant I am to have that happen."
"Oh."
"Yeah, 'oh'." Mouse Protector stood up and spun her chair back around in one fluid motion. "Not a bad idea, but the execution of it might cause problems. So it's up to us to make sure nobody does anything fatally stupid."
"Precisely." The Director raised her head. "Before you go, there's one other minor matter. Specifically, that damned fan club of hers." She nodded toward Mouse Protector. "I know
you're
already a member, and I can even understand why. But while we're not allowed to dictate Wards membership in extracurricular activities that do not impact your duties, Flechette, I would strongly suggest that you do not join, at least until you age out of the Wards. Director Wilkins dislikes Atropos even more than I do, and she may allow that to influence her decisions on your behalf."
Lily blinked. She'd half expected a blanket ban, but that request was almost … reasonable. The look in Piggot's eyes was as someone who had stared into the abyss and had it reach out and boop her on the nose. "Understood, ma'am. If we encounter Atropos out there today, what should we do?"
Director Piggot spread her hands. "Nothing. Be polite. You already know not to attempt to arrest her. She's stated that she won't harm PRT or heroes who aren't actively attacking her, and so far she's held to it, even to the point of cooperating with the PRT to save innocents." Her voice lowered to a growl. "Do
not
do anything to change that."
"No, ma'am. Definitely not." That was clearly the safest answer to give, and a course of action Lily intended to follow to the letter.
"Good. Get out of here, both of you." Piggot waved dismissively; by the time they reached the door, she was already studying the screen of her laptop once more.
<><>
Canary
"Okay, then." Paige stepped back and surveyed the stage. It had been assembled to her directions by Salvage, who could indeed follow instructions. She figured that his status as a Tinker probably helped there, but she wasn't going to assume anything. Between them they'd rigged up a set of makeshift metal bongos for him to supply a regular backbeat, using the timer he'd contrived in his armour. "Let's see how we go."
Salvage led out with the beat she'd coached him into doing, then on the other side of the stage, Spitfire picked out the simple tune on the electronic keyboard, using Salvage's regular beat to keep herself in time. Paige listened carefully; it was a little rough at first, but Spitfire gradually got better at keeping up with Salvage.
"Good, good," she said, clapping her hands once. "That's really good. We'll do it exactly like that. Salvage will lead out, then Spitfire picks up the beat. Once you're settled, I'll come in with guitar and vocals." She beamed at them. "I just want to say, thank you for stepping up like this. It's made things a lot easier."
"Hey, I've never done music before." Salvage shook his head. "We actually sound kinda good, but only 'cause you showed us how."
"We're gonna wow these kids." Bastet glanced over at Parian. "This never would've happened if you hadn't helped us out like that, just saying."
"Well, I'm definitely not regretting it." Parian gestured at the framework that was being set up in full view of the seating, not far from the stage. It resembled a cross between a jungle gym and an obstacle course, with fake stone ruins as a base. "What I want to know is, what's that about?"
"That's for me," said a voice from right behind them. Paige turned, startled, coming face to face with a superhero who was holding a small folding cloth Frisbee. "Hi. Mouse Protector. That's Flechette back there. We're here for the fundraiser."
Looking past Mouse Protector—who she recognised now, after her initial fright—Paige saw a costumed teen climbing out of a PRT van. Flechette wasn't familiar to her, but she didn't follow the superhero scene all that much. "Uh, hi," she ventured. "I'm Paige Mcabee—Canary—and these people are the Brockton Bay Rogues' Guild … I mean, unless you already know them?"
"Nope.
You,
I know, and I saw Parian there on the news once, but I've never really heard of this Rogues' Guild before." Mouse Protector held out her hand. "Anyway, pleased to meet you."
Paige shook it. "Likewise. Are, uh, are you here because …"
"Because of Atropos?" Mouse Protector grinned. "Yeah, there's this chick that was always on my case in New York, so Atropos totally messed up her credibility. Like,
murdered
it. Look up 'Ravioli' online when you get the chance. Anyway, her price for that was me doing this."
"I
saw
that!" Bastet stepped into the conversation. "She did
that
for you? Damn, that was brutal. And I was there for her takedown of Bastard Son, so I know what I'm talking about."
Parian went to meet Flechette. "So, are you here because Atropos asked you, too?" It was a reasonable question, in Paige's estimation. That did seem to be a theme at the moment.
"No, actually." Flechette held out her hand to shake, though she also seemed to be checking out the doll-themed cape. "While she was in New York, Atropos asked me and Mouse Protector for selfies for her friends. She seems to be a nice person—apart from the serial murders, I mean—so I got permission to come along and help out with the fundraiser."
"Well, that was nice of you." Parian shook her hand firmly. "The more, the merrier. What were you thinking of doing?"
Flechette shrugged. "Well, I'm a rooftop runner and I've got perfect timing, so I was thinking I'd help Mouse Protector put on an acrobatic show on that monstrosity over there." She gestured at the parkour framework that had been completed while Paige and the others had been in the process of setting up.
When Parian spoke, there was a smile in her voice. "I'd like to see that."
<><>
■
PRIVATE MESSAGETo: AssaultFrom: AtroposSubject: Re: Just a casual question
Hi, he-who-used-to-be-Madcap,Short answer: I don't care how she got her powers, just that she uses them responsibly while she's inside Brockton Bay. That goes for all Cauldron customers.Slightly longer answer: I don't give a damn about how someone got where they are. I'm not in the business of handing out retribution for past crimes. So long as they play by the rules going forward, I'm good. If people decide to not play by the rules, that's when I start paying attention.By 'the' rules, I mean 'my' rules'. Just so we're clear on that.My beef with Cauldron has to do with their ongoing lack of style and competence, and the plans they had for Brockton Bay, not with their customers.Tell Battery that if she's cool with me, I'm cool with her.Toodles!
■
<><>
A Little While Later
Flechette
"Alright," said Canary into her microphone, the sound emanating from the speakers on either side of the stage. Cradling her guitar, she looked out over the audience, consisting mainly of the movers and shakers of Brockton Bay, though the kids who had been able to be moved were out in front where they'd get the best view. "Let's get this show on the road. Ladies and gentlemen and children of all ages, I'm Bad Canary, and these fine people with me are the Brockton Bay Rogues' Guild. Behind me, we have Mouse Protector and Flechette, who've come all the way from New York to lend a hand."
As she paused, the spectators clapped; whether it was because they were pleased that all these capes had made an appearance or if it was just expected, Lily wasn't sure. She crouched on a crossbar, waiting for her cue. Nearby, Mouse Protector perched on a large fake rock.
Canary strummed a few bars, then nodded to Salvage. The Tinker must have activated the timer in his armour, because his big metal hands started drumming out a beat on the metal bongos. A nod to Spitfire, and the girl in the fluffy blue dragon costume started playing a simple repetitive tune on the electronic keyboard before her, matching her timing to Salvage's drumming.
After a few more seconds, Canary started playing her electric guitar, weaving the tune in and around the background beat supplied by the other two. With her sense of timing, Lily could tell that Canary was actually adjusting her tempo on the fly to keep her ad hoc backup band in the rhythm.
Then Canary started singing a song about overcoming adversity and working together. When she was just speaking, her voice was gorgeous enough, but her singing was on another level altogether. At the same time, Bastet began to do her ribbon-twirl thing, tossing small plushies resembling Spitfire into the air so they orbited her as well. Parian's purple gorilla was also dancing, while Spitfire's wings flared occasionally, and her tail swept from side to side. All in all, it was pretty damn impressive.
Mouse Protector launched herself upward and swung onto a crossbar not far from Lily, hanging head-downward with her arms out. Lily calculated the timing and jumped, clasping Mouse Protector's hands and swinging onward to let go and land on a new perch. She didn't pause, using every parkour move she knew (and a few she invented on the spot) to keep bouncing from one point to another, occasionally passing by Mouse Protector or even giving an assist to get to a higher spot.
She didn't have her arbalest with her, but even without it she was extremely mobile; she found she was enjoying the workout, and maybe the chance to show off a little in front of Parian. While she wasn't certain the girl was interested, Lily certainly was. In a city freshly rid of a whole bunch of racist, homophobic bigots, she was totally willing to go above and beyond to get the attention of someone who had a figure and a voice like that.
The musical number ended, and she ended up where Mouse Protector had been, while the veteran hero was up at the top of the framework. The adults and children alike were clapping for all they were worth, though whether it was for the music or the acrobatic exhibition, Lily wasn't sure and didn't care.
They wanted a show? They got a show.
Suddenly, Mouse Protector vanished, reappearing beside Canary on the stage. Lily had seen this before, but the audience had not; they gasped, then applauded again. "That was really nice," Mouse Protector said, her voice picked up and transmitted out by the speakers. "May I make an announcement?"
"Thank you,"
Canary acknowledged. "And yes, you can."
Stepping back a little way, she ceded the microphone to Mouse Protector.
"Hi, I'm Mouse Protector, and I'm here for you today!"
The announcement was bright and bubbly, and Lily found herself smiling just from the sheer infectious joy. "How are the little mouseys enjoying the show so far?"
The kids definitely cheered that one, their faces lighting up as they clapped.
"Good, good." Mouse Protector gave a slight bow. "So yeah, I came here from New York to pay back a friend for a favour. Just remember that, kids. Favours are great to get, but they're a two-way street. Anyway, this friend of mine, she's kinda scary if you don't really know her well—oh, who am I kidding, she's really scary to a lot of people. You've probably heard of her. She's called Atropos."
From the ripple of reaction that went through the audience, they'd definitely all heard of her …
wait.
From where Lily was, everyone should've been looking at Mouse Protector, but their sightline was higher up. Turning, she looked around … and there was Atropos herself, crouching on top of the framework. Slowly, theatrically, Atropos brought up her finger in a 'shush' motion. All the kids quieted immediately.
"Anyway," Mouse Protector went on, apparently oblivious, "I invited her to show up here today, but I haven't seen her yet. Has anyone seen her?"
Now, all the kids pointed and yelled at the same time. Lily got the impression they were saying some variation on, 'there she is' and 'right there', but it all blended together into one undifferentiated babble.
"What? She's here? Where?" Mouse Protector turned theatrically and looked around … just as Atropos dropped down behind the framework, out of sight. She even went so far as to shade her eyes and peer at the framework before she turned to the audience once more. "I don't see her."
Between one heartbeat and the next, Lily saw Atropos appear
on the stage, in a crouching position, right behind Mouse Protector. Slowly, ominously, the black-clad cape straightened up, causing the kids to point and shout again. Reaching forward with one black-gloved hand, she tapped Mouse Protector on the shoulder. Her voice carried through to the mic clearly enough. "Tag. You're it."
"What?" Mouse Protector spun around again, but Atropos had already leaped from the stage to the framework and was swarming across the crossbars and handholds with a level of celerity and dexterity that made Lily doubt her own athletic capability.
As Atropos neared Lily, she reached up to her collar and switched on what had to be a clip-on microphone. Her voice came clearly through the speakers for the benefit of the audience. "Hi. You're it, too. Welcome to Villain Tag."
"Oh, so that's how it's going to be, is it?"
Mouse Protector switched on her own throat mic and triggered a teleport that took her to the top of the framework again. "Come on, Flechette. If she wants to play, let's play."
Feeling a little left out of events—she
didn't have a clip-on microphone—Lily launched herself after Atropos, in the wake of the laughing Mouse Protector. Atropos didn't make a sound, but she didn't have to. Lily could
feel
the grin emanating through that morph mask.
Down below, Canary adapted fast; the next thing Lily knew, the classic Yakety Sax chase theme was coming out of the speakers, via her electric guitar. It was apt, too. No matter how hard Lily pushed herself and worked to cooperate with Mouse Protector, Atropos refused to allow herself to be hemmed in. Even the slightest gap was exploited, leaving both Lily and Mouse Protector clutching at thin air.
Despite the tune being older than most of the
adults
in the audience, it was infectious even for the kids. All were laughing; some called out encouragement for her and Mouse Protector to ensnare Atropos, while others seemed to support Atropos' continued evasion from capture.
When the tune came to an end, they were at different levels on the fake rocks making up the base. Lily was on one side of Atropos, while Mouse Protector was on the other. "We've got you mousetrapped now, Atropos," the veteran hero said, her hands flexing. "You may as well give up."
"It's not over until it's over," Atropos retorted, reaching into her long-coat and drawing a narrow-bladed sword that Lily belatedly identified as a rapier.
"Two can play at that game." Mouse Protector drew her own sabre and flourished it high. At the same time, she met Flechette's eyes and hooked her head sideways:
stay out of this one.
"Agreed," said Atropos, touching her rapier to the tip of Mouse Protector's sabre. A second later, it occurred to Lily that they were both holding their swords in their left hands. It didn't seem to hamper either one.
"We don't have to fight." Mouse Protector responded to the tap with one of her own. "You're definitely a worthy opponent. I don't want to have to hurt you."
Atropos shrugged. "You seem a decent hero. I'd hate to get hurt."
They moved together, up and down the fake rocks, and their swords clashed a few times. Mouse Protector saluted one such pass with her sabre. "Using Bonetti's defence against me, huh?"
"It seemed fitting," agreed Atropos, "considering the rocky terrain."
Lily had no idea what was going on. There was subtext here that some of the adults in the audience were picking up on, but the kids were just watching the swordfight with deep interest. Canary was playing her guitar again while watching the display, with low dramatic chords.
Under Atropos' renewed attack, Mouse Protector retreated, her sabre throwing off sparks from each parry. "I admit," she panted, "you are better than I am."
"Then why are you smiling?" asked Atropos, pressing the attack.
"Because I know something you don't know." Mouse Protector's broad grin was indeed visible to all.
"And what is that?"
Tossing her sabre from her left hand to her right, Mouse Protector flourished it briefly. "I am not left-handed."
Atropos gave her a nod of appreciation, even as she fended off a new attack from the independent hero. "You're pretty good at this, too."
"I should be," quipped Mouse Protector, "after watching all those Youtube videos."
Leaping to a new fake rock, Atropos parried again. "There's something I ought to tell you."
The onslaught briefly on hold, Mouse Protector looked at Atropos expectantly. "Tell me."
Mimicking Mouse Protector's move from earlier, Atropos swapped hands with the rapier. "I'm not left-handed either." She darted forward, raising sparks from Mouse Protector's sabre.
"Who
are
you?" demanded Mouse Protector, parrying briskly then returning to the attack.
"You'll never know." Atropos steadily gave ground, retreating up the fake rocks, showing every sign of being trapped with no way out. Having seen her earlier performance, Lily was inclined to call bullshit, but this seemed to have been scripted ahead of time.
"But I must!" With a truly egregious flourish, Mouse Protector caught Atropos' rapier and flipped it from her hand. Spinning end over end, it arced toward Lily. Leaning into her sense of timing, Lily snapped her hand out, allowing the hilt to slap into her palm.
"Alas!" Atropos was really hamming it up there, but that also didn't surprise Lily. "Disarmed! But I must fight on!" There was a flicker of light on gleaming blades as she drew her signature shears. "Just remember, you brought this on yourself, bringing a sword to a shears fight!"
In the next second, she'd moved in close; there was a clash of steel on steel, and Mouse Protector's sabre flew over the back of the framework. Mouse Protector stopped still, her hands held up, palm out. "Well,
that
was unexpected."
Atropos saluted her with the shears. "While you're searching for your sword, I believe it's time for me to exit stage left." Just as she'd done in New York, she mimed snipping a doorway out of the air; an instant later, an actual smoky portal formed there. "Ladies and gentlemen, please consider donating to this very worthy cause." Briefly nodding toward the audience, she touched the brim of her hat with two fingers. "Toodles!"
With that, she stepped into the shadowy doorway and vanished, the portal itself fading out of existence thereafter. But Lily wasn't paying attention to that, or even to the thunderous applause that erupted as Mouse Protector bowed to the audience in her turn. She'd
seen
this rapier before, in March's possession. It was the exact same one, down to the stylised 'M' on the pommel.
Conclusions tumbled over and over in her mind, like boulders in a flooding river.
Jouster said someone kicked the crap out of March and took her rapier.
This
is March's rapier.
She was found near my patrol route. Was she planning to ambush me?
It was absolutely something March would do.
Did Atropos go all the way to New York to intercept March and take her rapier, just so she wouldn't be able to interfere with me coming here?
Turning, she bowed to the crowd as well.
I definitely need to ask her about that.
But right now, there was the fundraiser and the chance to talk to Parian before duty drew her back to New York.
She'd take that over a beating from March, any day.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
Relevant Side Story
■
PRIVATE MESSAGETo: TheRealPanaceaFrom: AtroposSubject: Heads upHi, Pan-pan!So, I got a thing I think your power might enjoy sinking its non-existent teeth into.If you can be dressed and ready to go at five minutes to midnight on the fifteenth, Imma swing by and take you to meet a person and do a thing. Dress dark; it won't actually change anything, but everyone wants to dress like a secret agent at least once in their life.I promise you, nobody's going to die, and you'll help make someone's life a whole heap better.
■
PRIVATE MESSAGETo: AtroposFrom: TheRealPanaceaSubject: Re: Heads upWhat?
■
PRIVATE MESSAGETo: TheRealPanaceaFrom: AtroposSubject: Re: Re: Heads upWhat I said. You, me, help someone. 11:55 on Tuesday the 15th.You down?
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PRIVATE MESSAGETo: AtroposFrom: FlechetteSubject: Just wanted to ask a question, and say thanksHi,The fundraiser was really cool. I had a lot of fun. Where did you learn your parkour? That was insane!Anyway, that wasn't the question I wanted to ask.Wow, this is difficult.One of the Rogues' Guild capes, Spitfire, has contacted me, asking if I wanted to chat and maybe meet up again sometime while she's not wearing the dragon costume. I think she wants to go on a date with me. Does she want to go on a date with me? Is this even a good idea?Um.Also … March's rapier. You're the one who beat up March, so she couldn't stop me from coming, aren't you? Thanks for that. She's … a real pain in the ass. Seriously, she's been a problem for me for the longest time. If I started dating Spitfire (I'm honestly interested, unless you tell me it's a bad idea) then I'd always be worried that March was going to come after her. But now she's in custody (and WOW, you made a mess of her) so that's totally a huge weight off my shoulders.So anyway, I just wanted to ask you about Spitfire and thank you for what you did to March.
■
PRIVATE MESSAGETo: FlechetteFrom: AtroposSubject: Re: Just wanted to ask a question, and say thanksWell, if it isn't my favorite New York Ward!The fundraiser was definitely fun. Thanks for showing up, by the way. I really appreciate it. You totally helped make the show.As for where I learned my parkour, it's the same place where I learned to shoot and fight. Sorry, but a girl's gotta have her secrets.So, about Spitfire: she's a nice girl, and a bit shy, so I'm glad she reached out to you. Yes, she totally means it as a date. Yes, I mean a date-date. I think it will be good for both of you.As for March: you're welcome. I hate bullies, and it's always fun to teach them the error of their ways.Pro tip: if you wear the rapier when you go to visit her in holding, you might just get to see steam shooting out her ears, mwahahaha.Oh, and one other thing. Some time soon, Imma go on a trip overseas. Interested in tagging along?
■
PRIVATE MESSAGETo: AtroposFrom: TheRealPanaceaSubject: Re: Re: Re: Heads upI'm going to need more detail than that. What's happening on the fifteenth?
■
PRIVATE MESSAGETo: TheRealPanaceaFrom: AtroposSubject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Heads upRemember what happened with Bonesaw? It'll be kind of like that, only almost entirely different.Tell me your power isn't leaning forward and looking interested.
■
PRIVATE MESSAGETo: AtroposFrom: FlechetteSubject: Re: Re: Just wanted to ask a question, and say thanksOverseas? Where to?
■
PRIVATE MESSAGETo: FlechetteFrom: AtroposSubject: Re: Re: Re: Just wanted to ask a question, and say thanksAustralia, actually. The Land Down Under. Don't worry about your bosses. I'll clear it with them first.
■
PRIVATE MESSAGETo: AtroposFrom: TheRealPanaceaSubject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Heads upOkay, fine. You have my attention. I'll be ready.
■
PRIVATE MESSAGETo: TheRealPanaceaFrom: AtroposSubject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Heads upCool, see you then.Toodles!
■
PRIVATE MESSAGETo: AtroposFrom: FlechetteSubject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Just wanted to ask a question, and say thanksSounds interesting. I'm in. Can I bring a camera?
■
PRIVATE MESSAGETo: FlechetteFrom: AtroposSubject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Just wanted to ask a question, and say thanksOh, I promise there'll be opportunities to take once-in-a-lifetime photos. Mwahahaha.Toodles!
■
Thursday Afternoon, February 10, 2011BoardwalkAishaBrian emerged from the shop and rejoined the girls. "And something for you," he said, handing Riley a small box."What? For me?" She tore the packaging open and stared at the phone within. It may have been a run-of-the-mill standard model, but from the way she hugged it to herself, it may as well have been encrusted with gold. "Thank you
so
much!" she enthused, freeing one arm to hug Brian. "Nobody's ever bought me a phone before!""Didn't the PRT give you some fancy-dancy high-end super-encrypted model?" Aisha asked, trying not to smile. Riley was so much fun when she was in a mood like this."Yeah, but that's not
mine." Riley rolled her eyes expressively. "That's
theirs. They're just letting me use it. But this one here is mine." She hugged it again. "I love it. Thank you."Aisha pulled out her own phone. It was worn and battered, and maybe one day she'd switch up to a new model, but it had been through a heap of crap with her, so that day wasn't happening yet. "What's the number? I'll send you a text, so we'll both have each other's numbers.""Okay, it's just …" Riley jumped as the phone rang in her hand. "What? I didn't even give you the number yet.""Uh … that's not me?" Aisha held up her phone, which she still hadn't woken up. "Might want to answer it."Tentatively, Riley swiped the Answer icon and held it to her ear. "Uh … hello?" A moment later, her eyes opened wide. "Atropos? How did you get this number? I literally just got the phone.""Speaker!" hissed Aisha, making move-it-along gestures. "Speaker!" She definitely wanted to hear what Atropos had to say.Riley hit the Speaker icon, and Atropos' voice became audible.
"Hi, Aisha. Hi, Brian. Have you got enough pictures yet?"Brian involuntarily looked down at the stack of framed pictures they'd picked out to decorate the living quarters. "What the hell? How did you even know … you know what, I don't care anymore.""Wise decision. So, Riley, I love that stuff you made. Up for making more? This time so it works on skin contact?"Riley blinked, her gaze going distant for a moment. "Uh, sure. I guess. You'd have to be real careful with it too, you know.""Trust me, kiddo, I'm nothing
but
careful. Also, can I ask another favour?"This time, Riley didn't hesitate. "Sure. What do you need?""Well, Barrow's coming to town, so …"As Atropos explained what she needed, Aisha's eyebrows rose. She'd already seen ample evidence that the dark-clad cape was bullshit squared on a bullshit sandwich, but this was impressive even for her.When she finished, Riley nodded, not seeming to care that Atropos couldn't see her. "Okay, I can do that. But do me a favour, please? Don't kill him. Bastard Son deserved it. Barrow doesn't, I don't think.""That's legitimate," Atropos agreed.
"I promise, I won't kill him. But to quote a famous genie, it's amazing what you can live through."Riley smirked while Aisha chuckled. "I didn't say you couldn't
hurt
him," she confirmed. "I'm just not a fan of murdering people who haven't killed other people.""And that's fair. So, how are you enjoying your new job? Everyone treating you okay?""Oh, totally." Riley's smirk became a real smile. "The, uh, the other juniors are all real nice to me. I get a kind of big-brother vibe off them, except for V, who's thrilled that there's someone younger than her on the team. She's taken it on herself to show me the ropes, and she really knows her stuff.""Good, good. What about the adults? They're giving you a fair chance?""Uh-huh. Nobody makes fun of me, and they're all really encouraging. I like it.""Excellent. Well, I have to go, but if you need to get in touch with me anytime, I'm there for you.""I know. And thanks for giving me a chance." Riley seemed to be holding back sniffles."Anytime. See you soon."When Riley ended the call, Aisha hugged her. It seemed the right thing to do, and from the way Riley hugged her in return, she thought so too. "How awesome is she?" Aisha asked as they separated.Riley gave her a watery smile. "I know, right?" She wiped suspicious moisture from her eyes, then blew her nose. "Well, come on. Brian's money isn't gonna spend itself, you know."Aisha cackled out loud. "I knew there was a reason I liked you so much."
<><>
Tuesday Night, February 15, 2011Outside the Dallon HouseTaylorI looked up at the frontage of the house, and nodded to myself. No lights glowed through the windows, and my power had Amy on its radar. She still didn't
like
me as a person, but she was mentally and physically prepped to come along with me.
Good.I wasn't in this game to be popular. In all honesty, I didn't give a shit about whether the public loved me or not. I just wanted to make the city
work, to get it running smoothly, to get the crime rate down to a level where the cops could handle it, and keep it there. And if I had to shoot a few assholes in the face to get it done, then I'd do just that.Now that I'd skimmed the biggest turds off the top of the sewage pit that made up the Brockton Bay criminal underworld, I wasn't necessarily obliged to kill
everyone
who pissed me off. I could and would if it became necessary, but if Ending a problem could be more easily done without killing, I'd do that.Of course, there were always people who needed killing. But tonight, we weren't going to be meeting any of them.I programmed the teleporter for its jumps, then snapped the cover shut and waited for the timer to run down. It stepped me into Amy's bedroom; she was sitting at her computer, dressed in the same dark hoodie and jeans she'd been wearing when she came out the last time. The bed had been artfully made up with an Amy-shaped lump under the covers and a spill of frizz across the pillow that could easily have been her hair.She hadn't noticed me yet, so I pushed down on the bed, just enough to make it creak. Her shoulders tensed. Without looking around, she said quietly, "It's you, isn't it?""Bingo." I stepped up alongside her. "Ready to roll?"With a sigh, she started shutting down the computer. "I guess so."I moved around into her line of sight. "Last-minute reservations?""Yes and no." She pushed back from the computer desk. "It's not that I've got a bad feeling about going with you, but it's just …" She grimaced. "Is this really what a superhero should be doing? Hanging out with a mass murderer? Using my power to do what you want me to do? I mean, if Mom ever found out about Bonesaw, I'd never hear the end of it.""Well, true." I saw her start of surprise as I agreed with her; she'd evidently expected me to argue from the get-go. "I
am
a mass murderer, yes. I've got my agenda, and I use killing to further it, but I don't kill for the fun of killing. I kill to End problems that can't more easily be Ended by non-lethal means. And sometimes I End problems in other ways, like asking someone with the right skillset to do something for me. I'd never ask someone to kill for me; that's my go-to. But there's killing that doesn't actually require the cessation of life, like you did with Bonesaw.""And that's what you want me to do this time?" She'd almost convinced herself to go, I could tell. "Get rid of the mass murderer hiding in someone's brain?""No, actually." I smiled behind the mask, knowing she'd hear the difference in my voice. "That's my job, this time. You're not going to have to alter her personality in the slightest. The
body
modification is going to be somewhat more strenuous, though.""More so than Bonesaw's?" She sounded doubtful.Thinking of Sveta's situation, I had to chuckle. "Oh, you have
no
idea."She snorted. "Fine, you twisted my arm. Let's go do this thing.""I thought you'd never ask." I raised my hand and snapped my fingers just as the timer ran down, and the portal opened in the middle of the room."Okay, but I still think it's bullshit that you can teleport." For all her snark, she showed no hesitation in following me through.We stepped out into a brightly lit office, where a woman sat busily typing on a laptop. Reaching behind me, I knocked on the inside of the door."Who—oh!" The woman, half-turning at the sound, saw us both. Startled, she jumped to her feet. "My goodness, you surprised me. How did you …
when
did you get here?""Just now," I said. "You both know who I am. Mrs Yamada, this is Amy Dallon, better known as Panacea. Amy, meet Mrs Jessica Yamada. As I understand matters, she's a remarkably good therapist."Amy glanced at me, her nose wrinkling. "Just how deep are you in my business? I make a comment to my sister about how we all need therapy, and you bring me to a therapist?"I met her gaze blandly, with the advantage that she couldn't see my eyes. "That's between you and your issues.
But we can address that later. Right now, we have a young woman in a fairly problematic situation, who has asked for my help. Mrs Yamada, if you will?"Mrs Yamada stood firm for a minute. "I'm aware she's asked for your help, Atropos, but I'm still not convinced that you're not going to just kill her."I nodded. "That's totally fair. I do kind of kill people, a lot. But if I'd been going to do that, I wouldn't have Amy here to help sort out the aftermath. And you wouldn't have a whole pig currently residing in your freezer."She stared at me. "But that was delivered by mist … oh. Oh, I
see.
How
did
you pull that off?"Amy rolled her eyes. "She does that. A
lot. Can you do me a favour and send someone to fetch that pig? I'm starting to get the idea of what I'm needed for, though now I'm really curious as to why we're going to need the whole damn pig.""You'll see," I said lightly. "Mrs Yamada?"The therapist gave first me then Amy a searching glance—no doubt gathering a lot more from my morph mask than most—then took up her phone. Dialling a number, she waited for a moment then gave a few terse instructions. Then she ended the call and nodded to us. "Come along."I could feel Amy's curiosity growing exponentially as we followed Mrs Yamada out the door to her ad hoc office—zero decorations, nothing that said 'home'—and along to a locked storeroom. She carefully checked a screen attached to the wall beside the door, then nodded to herself. The electronic lock—also a recent installation—sounded its cheerful beeps as she tapped in the numbers, then it clicked open.Within was padding taped to the floor and the walls up to about two feet high, and on that padding was a glass-and-steel ball, about two feet across. Inside the ball, as the lights in the storeroom came up, was a human face surrounded by a thick mass of tendrils.Amy stopped and stared. "What … the hell?"I gestured to the ball and its inhabitant. "Amy, meet Sveta. Sveta, meet Amy Dallon. I'm Atropos; I'll be facilitating today's modifications.""Atropos." The voice, from the girl inside the ball, was soft and breathy. "You came. I didn't know if you would."I chuckled darkly. "Neither did Coil, Kaiser, Lung or Skidmark. But don't worry; anyone who
invites
me to show up is in no danger from me."Mrs Yamada looked from me to Amy to the ball, her expression worried. "I presume Panacea is going to be removing her powers?""No, that's not going to be happening." Amy shook her head. "If that's Garotte in there, I can't shut her down fast enough.""Oh, ye of little faith." I stepped forward, reaching into my pocket. "Good eye, by the way. Sveta is totally the one they used to call Garotte." I took out one of the little plastic capsules I'd liberated from the PRT building; within was a single grape, treated with Riley's concoction. "Incoming snack, Sveta.""You're not going to poison her—" began Mrs Yamada, starting forward.I stopped and looked back at her. "No. I'm going to End her powers, but she's going to be perfectly fine. Amy, tell her.""What can I say?" Amy said. "Atropos is a murderer a dozen times over, but she's
always
told people when she's going to kill them. And usually warned them twice. And she's already had me help out someone worse than Garotte, but you didn't hear that from me.""Oh." Mrs Yamada didn't sound entirely convinced, but nor did she try to stop me when I knelt beside the ball and found the little hatch. It opened easily enough—there was an airlock-style arrangement—and I dropped the grape inside, then closed the hatch, which opened the airlock on the other side.Sveta's tendrils found the grape immediately; half of it was crushed, while the other half got all the way to her mouth. "What's supposed to happen now?" she asked.I stood up and put the capsule away, then took out my shears. "Three," I said. "Two. One." On the last word, I snipped at the air. "There. Your powers are gone.""I'm still … me," she said doubtfully, stirring her tendrils.I nodded. "No, true. Being a case fifty-three isn't a power that can be taken away. But being super-strong
is. There's no biological way your tendrils are that strong naturally. And more to the point, your powers won't force you back into this form now … or make your tentacles attack people without your intent." I turned to look at the therapist. "Mrs Yamada, I'm about to open this hamster ball; if you want to leave the room first, feel free.""No." Mrs Yamada's tone wasn't as rock-solid as she might've wanted it to be, but she didn't move. "I have faith in Sveta's self-control."Amy nodded. "And I have faith that someone who's taken out so many terrifying capes wouldn't make such a rookie mistake.""Thank you. I appreciate the vote of confidence." Putting my shears away again, I knelt next to the 'hamster ball' and undid the catches. One by one, they snapped open, then the two halves fell away from each other.Sveta spilled out from between them, staring up at me. "What? How did you even do that?""Same way I'm gonna gank the Simurgh next week," I said lightly. "With the power of friendship. How are your tendrils feeling? Not so murder-y?"She gingerly twitched the tendrils, then blinked. "Um … no? They don't seem to want to do much of anything, until I move them." She caught her breath. "You did it? You did it! You killed my powers!""And we're not done yet." I turned toward Mrs Yamada and tilted my head at the door, just as a buzzer sounded. "That'll be the pig.""Pig?" asked Sveta as Mrs Yamada opened the door and a guy in an orderly's uniform rolled in a large flatbed dolly with the aforementioned pig carcass strapped to it. "Why is there a pig?"The orderly stared at the tableau presented. I wasn't sure if he was more terrified of me or of the fact that Sveta was out of her hamster ball. Turning, he bolted from the room.Amy smiled for the first time since I'd shown up in her room. Lacing her fingers together, she cracked her knuckles. "That's my cue. So, Sveta, was it? How tall did you want to be?"Sveta blinked. "What?"
<><>
Panacea, LaterHer mind still singing with the high that using her powers so
differently
gave her,
Amy let Sveta hug her again, and patted her on the back. Dressed in a hastily scrounged T-shirt and jeans, the young woman was giving her newly reworked tear ducts—the old ones had leaked
bile,
of all things—a real workout. "I'd love to stay," Amy said, "but it's a school night and all, and I'm guessing Atropos has things to do.""This is true," Atropos said, but not in a particularly urgent tone of voice. "You can handle things from here between you two?""I believe we can, yes." Mrs Yamada fielded Sveta, putting an arm around her shoulders. "Thank you again, and I apologise for doubting you. And Amy …" She held out her card. "If you ever need to talk—about anything—here's my number."Amy accepted it with less hesitation than she might have done before going on this little expedition, and tucked it into her pocket. She didn't
have
to use it, after all. "I'll think about it."Atropos nodded to Mrs Yamada and Sveta. "Take care of yourselves. If anyone tries to mess with you, let me know. Ready to go, Amy?""Sure." Amy stepped up alongside her, and watched her hands carefully. There
had
to be a trick in what she did.But all that happened was Atropos snapping her fingers, and the portal opened in front of them. They stepped through; the room dissolved in shadow, to be replaced by her bedroom.Slowly, Amy sat down on her bed, disarranging the carefully placed decoy, but she didn't care about that. "Wow," she murmured. "That was … a rush.""It was pretty cool from my end of things, too," Atropos agreed. "So, before I go. Can I ask a couple of favours from you?"Amy raised her eyebrows. "Two
favours?" she asked, trying for sternness and not quite making it. "You're pushing it a little there, aren't you?""Little bit, yeah." There was a grin in Atropos' voice. "That colour-changing dust you made me that time was amazing. Could I get something like that, but it looks metallic until there's a loud noise or heat, and then it glows bright red?"Amy tilted her head, considering the idea. "Sure," she said almost immediately. "Shouldn't be a problem. What's the other favour?"Now Atropos brought her fingertips together in front of her. "Hear me out with this one. A bacterium that's capable of eating refined metals, rubber or plastics."Amy stared, horrified. "What? No! You could bring down
civilisations
with that!""I know." Atropos was unmoved. "That's why I want you to
also
work with me to devise safeguards.""Jesus," Amy muttered. "I'm really going to have to think about that one. The other one, sure, I can do that in an hour or so.""Okay." Atropos raised her hand. "I'll get back to you on that." A snap of the fingers, and she was gone.Long after her bedroom was empty of black-clad serial killers, Amy lay awake, staring at the ceiling.What the hell does she want
that
for?
<><>
Monday, February 21, 2011A Little Way Outside Brockton BayThey called him Barrow.Even he called himself that, because after all this time of not bothering to use his born name, it had ceased to be his real name. All that mattered was the Lost Garden, and his disciples. He could not leave its boundaries, but why would he want to? All his needs were met within the boundaries of the Garden, and if he truly wished to go somewhere, he could take it with him.His followers were capes who, like him, had become lost in the modern world and sought refuge in the sanctuary that was the Lost Garden. Mostly, their powers were enhanced or enabled by the wild untrammelled growth that accompanied the Garden's movement. All saw him as their saviour: infallible and unbeatable.This attitude was entirely understandable. They had clashed with law enforcement before, both powered and unpowered. Outside the Garden, their combined powers and mutual cause made them formidable; within it, they were unbeatable.The Garden itself was active and aware on a deep level. Those it considered allies had free passage and could seek concealment anywhere, while enemies would find thick undergrowth and wait-a-minute thorns wherever they went. Ambushing overly confident invaders of the Garden was child's play when the very environment cooperated all the way.Better yet, the Garden did not exist wholly within Earth Bet. It was what some called a 'corner world', where physics worked
differently. Cell-phone and radio signals did not cross the boundary, and Tinkertech often malfunctioned or ceased to work at all.Mundane countermeasures such as flamethrowers and cutting blades could be met and defeated via a version of evolution that countered flame-wielding foes with fire-resistant foliage, or grew iron-hard tree bark against saws. Even poison could be absorbed by specialised growths and then spat back at the invaders.The Lost Garden was supremely adaptable and infinitely capable of regeneration. Both a home and a sanctuary, it protected Barrow and his followers, keeping them safe from any possible harm.This was why Barrow felt no fear as he stood at the perimeter of his Garden, on the side closest to the suddenly villain-free city of Brockton Bay. Across the boundary that separated the Lost Garden from the rest of the world, he faced a sole PRT officer plus two superheroes. None offered a direct threat, which was wise; they were not exactly within the perimeter, but his trees had been known to whip out thorny vines against those who drew his ire while remaining outside his domain.They had come, of course, to warn him not to come to their city. He wasn't sure why the local PRT Director had sent so few, but at least this meant they weren't considering attacking in force. Bad things happened when they tried that; to them, not to his followers. He always made sure to leave some capable of dragging off their (usually disabled and cocooned) comrades, but he
also
ensured that some suffered lasting injuries. Object lessons were a thing, after all."Are you even listening to what I'm saying?" asked the PRT officer. "Atropos is not your usual villain. She's
warned
you. This means she knows you're coming."Barrow had to smile. "Look about you. My Garden is not a subtle thing. Everyone with eyes knows of my approach."The male hero—one was a man, the other a woman—face-palmed at that. His companion put her hand on his shoulder and murmured something to him, but he shook his head. "I'm sorry," he said out loud. "I just can't
not
say something. Captain Reeves?"Reeves gestured magnanimously. "Be my guest.""Hi, I'm Assault, and this is Battery," said the red-clad hero, stepping forward. "You've heard of the Slaughterhouse Nine, Butcher and the Teeth, Heartbreaker, Bastard Son … right? People you don't want to run into, like
ever.""We have heard of them, yes." Barrow frowned. Where was this leading up to? "Are you going to tell me she is worse than them all put together? Because I find that hard to believe.""How about, she killed them all?" Battery said bluntly. "They all came to Brockton Bay, and now they're all dead. Actually, let me back up for a moment there. She
knew
they would come to Brockton Bay, she
said
she was going to kill them, and she did. They died mainly because they didn't heed the warning to stay away.""Oh, and you know the Endbringers?" Assault may have raised his eyebrows, but Barrow couldn't see them. "She's also said that the next one that shows up, she's going to kill it. And people are taking her seriously.
That's
the person you're looking to piss off by coming into her city. She's warned you. You know of the first warning. The next one is likely to be somewhat more pointed. You won't get a third one."Barrow blinked. "Kill … an
Endbringer? Is that even possible? Because forgive me for my rudeness, but your story of this Atropos is insane. I'm not at all certain that I can believe it anymore.""She killed Shatterbird with a chunk of glass, blew Crawler to kingdom come, and cut Jack Slash's head off with Hatchet Face's axe," Captain Reeves said harshly. "She used the same axe to chop up Butcher into fourteen separate pieces, and stabbed Heartbreaker to death with a giant candy heart.
She does not play games. She doesn't do non-lethal unless she's very specifically making that choice. If she wants you dead, you're dead, along with any of your …" He paused, clearly choosing his words carefully. "… followers, who try to get in her way.""If she is so dangerous, so lethal, how many men have the PRT lost to her, Captain? And how many of your fellow heroes, Assault? And why has she not been arrested?" Barrow eyed the officer and the superheroes challengingly. This would be the acid test of their claim. Surely they would seek to make her seem as terrifying as possible, and when they did …"None, of either." Captain Reeves stated the words without fanfare. "Oh, we
were
going to try to arrest her, but she's very good at dancing between the raindrops. And once she killed off the Nine, the Director read the writing on the wall, and gave orders accordingly. We don't mess with her, and she doesn't kill us."Barrow smiled. "She will not kill my Garden, Captain. I, too, am no ordinary villain, despite the fact that you have insisted on slapping that label on me. The only way to get to me is to come into my Garden, and it does not tolerate intruders.""That. Doesn't.
Matter." Assault clenched his fists as he spoke. "People with more resources than you have tried avoiding her notice. They still died. Am I not getting through to you? Are you not listening? Atropos will
destroy
you. Turn around. Walk away. Go bother someone else.""And there it comes." Barrow glanced at Captain Reeves. "It was an admirable effort, but I believe I shall continue on my path. Atropos uses guns and blades. Neither will be of any use to her within my Garden.""Goddamn it, you moron! Atropos uses
everything!" Raising his voice, Assault took half a step forward. "I'm trying to save your
life,
here!"Battery put a hand on his arm, just as the undergrowth all around Barrow rustled threateningly. Barrow raised his own hand and frowned at Assault. "Come no closer. My Garden
will
protect me against such as you." And of course, his followers were watching from just out of sight."Come on," Battery urged her partner. "We gave it our best shot. No sense in giving him an excuse to attack us." She glanced sideways at Captain Reeves.Reeves unsnapped his holster but did not draw his weapon. "Don't hold back on
my
account.""I tire of this posturing." Barrow stepped back, allowing leaves and branches to swing into place, concealing him from the heroes and the PRT officer. "Tell your superiors. The Lost Garden
is
coming to Brockton Bay. We will not seek out Atropos, but neither will we bow down to her wishes."Assault shouted something, but Barrow was no longer listening. Turning, he walked deeper into the Garden, leaving his followers to watch the perimeter. Unlike every other cape who'd been confronted by Atropos, he was never vulnerable. He couldn't be isolated or taken off-guard. And so, he would—Brushing aside a hanging curtain of leaves, he stopped short, staring at the dark-clad figure who absolutely
did not belong
in the Garden. Even now, thorned tendrils crept out toward her—it was Atropos, it had to be, though how she'd gotten this far into his personal domain without the alarm being raised, he had
no
idea—but recoiled, every time. In fact, she stood in a quiet little clearing, with the plants apparently cringing back from her in all directions."Hi," she said pleasantly. "I just need to make sure that you
know
you've been warned to turn around and walk away from Brockton Bay." A tiny motion of her head seemed to indicate an eye-roll. "Just to make absolutely certain."He stared at her, disbelieving of her sheer gall. She wasn't even armed that he could see. "You walk into
my
Garden, and you warn me against trespassing into
your
lands? Do you even understand the danger you are in, right now?"Her hands barely seemed to move, but her long-coat fluttered and suddenly she was holding a shotgun. The action made a meaty
chak-k'chak
sound as she racked the slide. "I could ask you exactly the same question. Now, one more time. Are you going to walk away from Brockton Bay?"He eyed the shotgun. It looked remarkably lethal at this range. "If I say no, are you going to murder me?"She seemed to give the question a certain amount of consideration. "No. The Protectorate and PRT cared enough to come out here and try to save your life, and I don't want them feeling
totally
useless. Besides, I promised a friend I wouldn't."He put his hands on his hips. "Then, no. I am not."Too late, he heard the sheer unconcern in her voice, and realised that she hadn't said she wouldn't
shoot
him. "Suit yourself."
<><>
Captain Lassiter Reeves, PRT ENETogether, they watched as Barrow vanished into the undergrowth of his personal jungle. "I could
maybe
grab him," Battery muttered, but she didn't sound too sure of herself."Nope." Assault shook his head as they moved away. "Even with superspeed, that stuff would stick things out at ankle level, then have a bed of thorns waiting for you when you face-planted. We did our best, and he wouldn't listen.""Goddamn it." Lassiter shook his head. "I thought we at least had a chance. Since Bastard Son, all she's done is make public appearances. But no, someone's got to poke the bear.""Shh!" Assault held up one hand. "Did you hear that?""What?" asked Battery."Sounded like a pump shotgun." He looked around, then pointed at the otherworldly trees overhanging the boundary with the Lost Garden. "In there."Lassiter suddenly had a memory flash. "Atropos has one of those. I mean, she literally calls it 'my good friend Mr Pump Action Shotgun'.""Wait," Battery said. "You don't think—"The two shots sounded so quickly that the untrained ear may have failed to tell them apart. Assault crouched slightly, ready to react, while Battery powered up the circuit-board lines on her costume. Lassiter didn't have powers or a cool costume, but he did pull his pistol, barrel skyward, finger off trigger.Nothing came at them. The trees rustled, seemingly agitated, but they were beyond potential strike range. As the sounds of the shots died away, an ugly screaming became audible within the Garden. It went on and on, the sound of a man in agony."Captain, you're in charge here," Assault said tensely. "Your call.""I have no idea what's going on," Lassiter admitted. "Let's pull back a bit more while I kick this upstairs. We don't want that thing rolling over us while we dither about.""Someone really sounds hurt in there," Battery ventured."Someone is," agreed Atropos, appearing at the edge of the Garden with her shotgun resting against her shoulder. Far from attacking her, the plants seemed to lean away from her. She stepped onto clear ground; behind her, the greenery closed up again. "But don't worry. He'll live."Lassiter wasn't even remotely surprised. If anyone could pull off what had just happened, it would be Atropos. After all, she'd also watered his plants for him that one time. "Do I want to know what you just did to him?""Screw what you did to
Barrow," Assault broke in. "Did you seriously just intimidate a whole fucking bunch of homicidal
plants
into leaving you alone?""Something like that, yeah," she said to Assault; Lassiter could tell from the tone of voice that she was grinning broadly. "As for Barrow, that involved a conversation about how Kneecaps Are A Privilege." Somehow, she managed to slot the capitals into place. "He ignored two warnings, so my good friend here did something about that. The Lost Garden won't be coming to Brockton Bay."Lassiter eyed her suspiciously. "Is he alive because we made the effort? Or were you always just going to blow out his kneecaps?" He did his best to ignore the fact that Barrow would probably never walk again. The man had been warned."Yes." She was still grinning, he could tell. Opening her long-coat, she holstered the shotgun. "If it's any consolation, he wasn't going to budge, no matter what you said. But you distracted him for long enough for me to get into position, so thanks for that."She nodded politely to the three of them and strolled on past, then pulled out her shears and appeared to cut a rectangle out of the air. At the last 'snip', a shadowy portal appeared and she stepped into it.As she vanished, Assault looked at Battery and then at Lassiter. "Is it just me, or do you ever get the impression that we're not paid enough to deal with crap like this?"Lassiter chuckled darkly. "All the time, buddy. All the damn time."
<><>
Low Earth OrbitSimurghThe Third considered its options.There was an anomalous shard-host loose on the world below. Where the Third could read the past and project the future of every other lifeform, and indeed disarrange their patterns of thought with a mere effort of will, this one defied its power. Its actions could not be predicted. Worse, as it interacted with others around it, their actions became unquantifiable, spreading the murky area wider and wider until the Third's plans were under threat of becoming unworkable.That was unacceptable, especially since the anomaly had made the claim to several different people that it was going to put an end to the Third and its fellow chaos engines.Precautions, the Third decided, were in order.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N 1: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
[A/N 2: Double length chapter, woo!]
Protectorate Base, New York8:17 PM, Thursday, 23 February, 2011
Flechette
Lily lay back on her bed, smirking at the pictures Emily had sent. They had shared secret identities a few days before—contingent on Emily e-signing an NDA that Lily had mailed to her, courtesy of Legend—and now she was receiving texts of Emily making funny faces. The one of her dragon mask with googly eyes and a big silly-looking tongue lolling out the side of its mouth had made Lily laugh out loud.
An email popped up in Lily's inbox, showing Emily's email address and the caption
Have you ever watched this? It's the funniest.
Below that was a YouTube clip, which Lily clicked on.
She vaguely remembered watching it, many years ago, but Emily had sent it so she viewed it through in full. Classic Warner Brothers, with Elmer as the clueless hunter, and Daffy trying to get him to shoot Bugs, yet always being the one shot at. The classics, she decided as Daffy captured his errant beak yet again, were called that for a reason.
It had been two weeks since the fundraiser. Emily had messaged her shortly after that, and she'd tentatively responded. While Parian was the girl Lily had noticed, Emily
had
been wearing a dragon costume, so the deck had been stacked against her. And Emily was the one who had reached out.
Screw it,
Lily decided.
Next time I get some time off, I'm going to Brockton Bay. I'll let her know I'm coming, and we'll make a day of it.
After all, Atropos herself had put the seal of approval on their relationship.
If
she
says it's okay, who's gonna say no?
<><>
Also in New York
Taylor
I leaned forward just as the teleport kicked in, so that I ended up with my hands on Director Wilkins' desk, looking at her from a range of three feet. She shrieked, flailed her arms so papers flew everywhere, and fell off her chair. As the papers fluttered to the ground, I considered going around the desk and helping her up, but decided that she would see any move I made as hostile.
"Hi," I said helpfully. "Not actually here to hurt you."
She didn't respond, staying down below the desk level. I knew she was reaching up under the footwell and activating the duress alarm. This wouldn't actually do much, because I'd remotely hacked the building before teleporting in. I didn't need alarms blaring and causing confusion; they were going to have enough of that in a relatively short time.
"I came here to give you two important pieces of information," I informed the desk. It continued to be a desk. "The first is that I'm taking Flechette and going on a brief trip to Australia. We won't be long."
Wilkins didn't show herself, but she couldn't let that fly. "I can't permit that."
"Sorry, let me rephrase that," I said patiently. "I wasn't asking for permission. I'm informing you as a courtesy."
She still hadn't shown herself. "If Flechette goes anywhere out of this building with you, that will be counted as kidnapping a Ward. In
Legend's
city."
I snorted. "If you tell Legend I've kidnapped Flechette, he will advise you that she's probably okay, which will be perfectly true. Because he knows me." I shook my head; we were getting off track. "Anyway, you never asked about the second piece of information."
Silence from behind the desk. She wasn't going to bite.
I was tempted to walk around behind the desk and ask her what she thought she was playing at, but by now she'd extracted her .22 pistol from its hidey-hole. If I did that, she would feel threatened enough to shoot and I'd have to take the weapon away from her, and she'd be needlessly traumatised all over again. Better to not even go there.
I made a bet with myself that
Piggot
would've stood up to me.
"The second piece of information, seeing as you're so eager to learn it, is that the Endbringer alarm is due to go off in about twenty minutes. The Simurgh, in Canberra." I said it as calmly and unemotionally as I could, to soften the shock.
Professor Plum, in the library, with the candlestick.
It took her a few seconds to connect the dots.
That
was when she popped up from behind the desk like a jack-in-the-box, pistol held in both hands, aimed at centre mass. Her finger wasn't resting on the trigger, which was smart of her.
"Canberra is in Australia," she said quietly, as though it were a revelation of great importance.
"The capital city, even," I agreed. "Which is weird. Everyone seems to think it's Sydney."
"Where did you intend to take Flechette in Australia?"
I pretended to think for a moment. "… Canberra, actually. There's apparently a nice lake with an awesome name, and lots of cultural stuff. Young minds need expanding." The fact that Flechette was actually older than me was irrelevant, so I didn't bring it up.
Her grasp on the pistol became white-knuckled, and her hands began to shake from the tension. If she fired it now, she'd be just as likely to sign her name on the back wall as hit me. "I do not give permission for her to go into an Endbringer battle!"
"Point of fact," I said, holding up a finger. "First, as I said earlier, I'm not actually asking permission. I'm informing you of where she's going to be. Second, the word 'battle' presupposes that there's going to be a fight. I don't 'fight', unless I'm making a very specific point. I
kill. There's no point I need to make with the Simurgh. She
is
going to die, though I will be having a few words with her first. Flechette's just coming along for moral support."
"You're not going anywhere." Her voice was as tense as the rest of her. "I'm the one holding the gun. Any minute now, troopers are going to burst through that door, and—"
"No, they aren't." This conversation promised to be tedious as
fuck, so I short-circuited it. "I hacked your systems before I ever came here. Your security guys are watching looped footage. The duress signal got rerouted to one specific person, along with the
actual
security footage from this room."
"Who—" she began, just as her phone rang. Never taking her eyes off me, she scrabbled for it. "Hello?"
"Director Wilkins."
Despite the fact that it wasn't on speaker, I could still hear Alexandria's voice on the other end.
"Exactly what do you think you're doing?"
Wilkes drew herself to attention. "Chief Director—I—arresting Atropos—she's dangerous—"
"Yes,
she's dangerous. Do you honestly think you're holding her at gunpoint
against
her will? The last person who pointed a gun at her, she shot his bullets out of the air. She's being
nice. Now, put it on speaker. What has she said to you?"
Wilkins, starting to sweat, obediently put the phone on speaker. If I was of a mind to give a shit about such things, I might've actually felt sorry for her. But I wasn't, so I didn't. "I—uh—she wants to take Flechette to Australia, to fight the Simurgh—"
"End
the Simurgh," I corrected firmly. "And her legacy. There's a difference."
Alexandria paused for all of two seconds, which for her was the equivalent of a jaw-drop for a solid five minutes.
"The Simurgh? There's going to be an attack? Where? When?"
"Canberra," I said. "Fifteen minutes. Send the heroes if you want. It won't make a difference, but they won't be thrilled if they miss it."
"If I asked you how you know this, would I get an answer that made sense?"
She wasn't even pretending to talk to Wilkins anymore.
I shrugged. "I know it because that's when and where it's going to happen?"
Alexandria's tone made it clear that she was currently rubbing the bridge of her nose with her finger and thumb.
"I suppose that'll have to be good enough. Wilkins, I'm giving permission for Flechette to accompany Atropos to Canberra. Now, put down the pistol before Atropos makes you put it down. I need to make some calls."
The phone beeped, indicating that the conversation was over.
"You heard the lady. Have a nice day." Raising my hand, I snapped my fingers, just as the teleport kicked in.
<><>
New York Protectorate Base
Flechette
Lily looked up from her phone as a knock sounded on the door to her room. "Who is it?" she called out.
"I am shocked and surprised," a familiar voice called from the other side of the door. "You don't recognise me from my knock? Now I feel rejected."
She sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed, not quite believing her ears. "Atropos?"
"Well, duh. Did you need me to go beat up March again to prove it?"
Lily glanced up at the rapier hanging in its sheath on the wall. "Ah … nope. Come on in."
The door opened and Atropos strolled into the room, then shut it behind her. "Hi," she said cheerfully. "You're going to need to suit up, because you know how I said we'd be going to Australia? We're going now."
"Wait, what?" Lily knew she should've been used to this sort of left-field shenanigans from Atropos by now. "You said you'd clear it first with the higher-ups."
"It's cleared. Chief Director Costa-Brown said it was okay." Atropos gestured at the dressmaker's dummy that Lily stored her costume on. "Or didn't you want to go to Australia?"
"Oh, I totally want to go." Dropping her phone on the bed, Lily went over and started pulling her costume off the dummy. "But my main question is: why? And why now? It's the middle of the night."
"Not over there, it isn't." Atropos described a semi-circle in the air with her finger. "Right now, in Canberra it's the middle of the day. As for why we're going, I've already done a wabbit hunt, so now I'm going on a duck hunt."
Lily stopped in the middle of donning her costume and stared at Atropos. "… wait.
You
sent me that email?"
"I did." Atropos admitted it easily enough.
"But why?"
Leaning against the wall with her arms folded, Atropos fairly oozed smugness. "You will absolutely find out."
Resuming her costuming up, Lily asked the next question on her mind. "If March was the wabbit, I mean rabbit, who's the duck? Is there a duck-themed Australian villain who's somehow gotten on your bad side?"
"Not Australian, and not duck-themed, but yes." Atropos paused for a moment. "Do you trust me?"
That one wasn't hard to answer. Atropos was many things, some bad, but untrustworthiness did not number among her traits. "Yes, I do."
"Good." Atropos may have smiled. "And do you believe in the power of friendship?"
For some reason, it sounded like a trick question. Either that, or it was an odd way of asking if Lily considered her to be a friend. But the answer was the same, no matter how she thought of it. "I think I do, yeah."
"Excellent. That's good to hear." She paused for a moment, which was when the Endbringer sirens started sounding. Audible through the base via the PA system, they were pitched for the Simurgh, with the warble that meant 'not here'. "One more question: do you believe I can End the Simurgh?"
Lily froze, then turned slowly to stare at Atropos. "Uh … why? Is that where we're going? To fight the Simurgh?"
"No." Atropos suddenly had her shears in her hand, spinning them one way and then the other. "I'm going to kill her, and End her legacy. You're needed for a vital role, but you will
not
be required to actually fight her." The shears vanished as fast as they'd appeared, and Atropos straightened up from her posture against the wall. "Ready?"
Again, the question seemed to have several levels. Lily was costumed up, so that was affirmative on one level, but then there was the deeper question.
Am I ready to go up against an Endbringer?
There was only one possible answer.
Atropos chose me for this.
The knowledge put steel into her backbone.
"Yeah. I think I am."
<><>
Canberra, AustraliaLocal Time 12:37 PM AEST, 24 February, 2011
Taylor
Leet had assured me that the teleporter had a global range, but I'd never tested it as far as Australia before. It handled the portal-step just fine, though it was going to need a bit of time to recover before we could teleport back. That was fine. We had time.
As the shadows dispersed, the Endbringer sirens became audible here as well. Lily glanced up into the sky in case the Simurgh was already waiting for us (she wasn't) and then around at the scenery. "It is
so weird
to know that it's after eight at night, back home."
"And here, that's last night," I reminded her. I gestured at the weird building with grass growing up over the top of it, and the angular flagpole on top of that. "So, what do you think of Canberra so far?"
Lily shaded her eyes as she looked around at all the trees. I didn't blame her; we'd gone from late winter to late summer, and I was glad I'd doubled up on the antiperspirant before I'd left the house. "Um …" she said at last. "Where
is
it? Where are all the skyscrapers? Where's the, uh, whatever they use for a White House?"
"There," I said, pointing again at the building with the flagpole on top. "That's their Parliament House. And that one," I pointed in the other direction at a blocky white building about a quarter of a mile away, "is the old parliament building. They build outward rather than upward, here. The tallest building in Canberra is only twenty-six stories high." As I spoke, I took a can of white spray-paint from one of my long-coat pockets, shook it up, and began to draw a shape on the grass.
"Is it just me," she asked, "or can you just walk up on top of it? And what
are
you doing?"
"Showing off," I said briskly. "Or to put it another way, building my brand. And yeah, last I heard, you could. I guess letting the general public walk around over the top of politicians' heads was their way of showing that they're all equal in the end, or something."
I heard a
clik
as she took a photo of the parliament house. "Ah," she said in a low tone. "I think the cops are coming. They're kind of acting like cops, anyway."
I'd already pinged them in the back of my head, and registered their intent as official but non-lethal. "Thanks." Capping the spray-paint can, I slid it back into my pocket and turned to face the newcomers. "Good afternoon, officers. How can we help you?"
There were two officers, a large solidly built man and a shorter but no less formidable-looking woman. They wore dark blue vests loaded with equipment over pale blue shirts, which made for an interesting contrast. The male officer took the lead. "Well, for a start, miss, you can't be out here vandalising the place like that. Why aren't you heading for a shelter?"
"Because we're passing the time until the Simurgh gets here," I said, semi-honestly. "This is Flechette, from the New York Wards. I'm Atropos; maybe you've heard of me?"
The female cop certainly had, from the way her eyes widened. "What, the one who took out the Slaughterhouse Nine and all that?"
"Jeez!" her colleague exclaimed. "You're
that
bloody Atropos?"
"She certainly is," Lily confirmed. "She's killed more supervillains than
anyone.
And she's my friend, so leave her alone."
"Okay, okay," the female officer said. "If you're here to fight, we're not going to bother you. Thanks for showing up. You take care and stay safe, hey?"
I nodded. "That's the general intention, yeah."
"Just one thing," the guy added. "How'd you get here so fast? The alarms only started going off a few minutes ago."
I grinned under the mask. "We walked."
"Okay, fine," he muttered. "Be a smartarse." But he moved away anyway, urged by his partner.
I went back to finishing the shape I was drawing. If squinted at from a certain angle, it might have vaguely resembled a map of Australia. As a final touch, I pulled out another spray can and painted a red X at a particular spot.
"I think someone's—" began Lily, about one second before a cape blurred into sight in front of us. He was definitely a Mover, with orange and yellow speed lines on his costume. Stocky and short, he had bulky muscle rather than the runner's build that most dedicated Movers tended to develop.
"G'day," he said. "Name's Pocket Rocket. Cops said a couple of Yanks had already shown up. That'd be you two?"
"That's us." I held out my hand to shake. "I'm Atropos, and this is Flechette, from the New York Wards."
His handshake was firm without trying to crush mine. "Whoa," he said, eyes widening behind the mask. "The
Atropos? Thought the outfit looked familiar."
"The one and only," I confirmed. "Are there many other heroes in Canberra?"
"Not a lot." He grimaced. "I put the word out to Wave Rock Surf Club, and they said they'd show up. As for the others, they'll get here when they get here." He shaded his eyes with his hand and peered skyward. "Any sign of the Bin Chicken of Doom yet?"
Lily spluttered with laughter. "What
did you call her?"
"It's a type of ibis," he explained. "Ugly as fuck, and they'll spread your rubbish far and wide. Nobody likes 'em. They've got white feathers … and I tend to be a smartarse when I'm fuckin' terrified."
I didn't look upward. "She'll be overhead in about five minutes. See the way the clouds are spreading out? That's her. By the time she gets here, it'll be solid overcast, exactly three hundred feet above ground level. Zero visibility above that point."
He stopped and stared at me. "And how the
fuck
do you know that?"
I looked back at him; the difference being, I could see his eyes. "Because she considers herself a chessmaster, and I'm gonna show her what a fool's mate looks like." Which didn't answer his question at all, but it sounded good all the same.
"Okay, five minutes. Gotcha. I'll be back by then." He stomped the ground once with his heel, then blurred away.
Lily shook her head, still giggling. "Bin Chicken of Doom. I can't wait to tell Emily that one."
"It
is
kinda funny," I agreed. "Here, can you help me with something?" Drawing the shotgun I'd confiscated from Ravioli, with Amy's metallic coating rubbed into the engravings I'd done with the angle-grinder on the sides of the barrel, I broke it open and pulled a couple of shotgun shells out of my pocket. "Can you treat all but the brass on the shells, and treat the barrels as well, so the shot doesn't tear them to shreds? Then load the shotgun and hand it back to me, please?"
She took the weapon and ammunition carefully. "Okay, I can do that. You think my power will work against her?"
I grinned as I drew my shears, then got out the tiny tub of stuff Riley had made and dipped the tip in. "Oh, I've got a hunch it might just work." Screwing the top back on the tub, I dropped it into my pocket again. "Once you're done with that, could you please treat the blades of my shears as well? Thanks."
She paused halfway through applying her power to the barrels of the shotgun. "Hold on a second. If the shotgun's for the Simurgh … what are the shears for?"
My grin broadened. "The rest of the Endbringers."
"Wait … no …
what?" She stared at me as though I'd just started declaiming the Necronomicon in ancient Sumerian. "You are going to
have
to explain that one to me."
"It's an Atropos thing," I said lightly. "Trust me, it'll get done."
"Lucky I
do
trust you," she grumbled, then blew a raspberry at me.
"Which I totally appreciate." I glanced over my artwork and nodded in satisfaction. "Oh, and by the way? Don't freak, but there
will
be a party crasher. I have it totally under control. Understood?"
She gave me a medium-dirty look. "You do understand that saying 'don't freak' is basically an invitation to freak, right?"
"I'm trusting you not to freak. Because you're the most kickass Ward in New York, and pretty soon you're gonna have photos that nobody back home is going to believe."
She loaded the shotgun, clicked it closed, and handed it back to me, accepting the shears in turn. "God, when you talk like that, I feel like I should be ten feet tall and saving the world or something, not struggling with my math homework."
"Math homework is universal," I agreed blandly.
"Wow,
these
are cool." She ran her finger along the blade, careful to avoid the edges. "Where did you get 'em from?"
I chuckled. "Stole them from Kaiser's personal collection, along with the sword I killed him with."
"Oooh,
ouch.
A metal spike guy, killed with a sharp metal weapon that he used to own."
"That was previously owned by an
actual
Kaiser," I appended.
She winced and grinned at the same time. "Day-yum, girl. That's irony, right there."
I nodded, accepting the shears back and letting them twirl casually around my finger. "Killing someone with irony is harder, but so goddamn satisfying when I can get all the ducks in a row."
"Your
ducks march in step, wear combat boots, and carry sniper rifles, just saying."
"Never said they didn't." I looked around as a loud
crack
heralded Strider's arrival with the first bunch of heroes and villains. Taking a deep breath, I raised my voice. "If I can have your attention, please?"
All eyes turned my way, or close enough that it didn't matter. Legend stepped out of the pack and strode toward us. "Flechette, are you okay?"
"I'm fine," she said. "But I think Atropos has something to say."
"Thank you, I do." I raised my voice again. "All fliers! That overcast up there is artificial! The Simurgh is creating it, with Leviathan's assistance! She's going to be getting here in about two minutes, so
stay below the cloud cover!
If she catches you in there, she
will
tear you limb from limb!"
"Oh,
come
on!" I couldn't see who was protesting, but it wasn't Legend. "Two Endbringers never attack at the same time! Besides, we must be fifty miles inland! Where's he going to find water?"
"Seventy," I corrected him. "But there's a nice big lake, less than a mile away. It's got a billion cubic feet of water in it, and he's lurking in there right now."
"You're sure about this?" asked Legend quietly. I could see Alexandria and Eidolon approaching now, both glancing in the direction of the lake with the amazing name. I mean, how could anyone go wrong with a name like Burley Griffin?
"It's what I'd do," I told him. "I'd suggest you ask the people I've gone up against about how well I can anticipate their moves, but you'd only get answers out of Ravioli and March. Anyway, we'll find out for sure in about a minute and a half." I looked over at Alexandria. "Which gives us just enough time to discuss the next order of business."
There was a
crack
as Strider deposited another group of heroes in the chosen rendezvous area. This bunch included one of Dragon's suits; I had no doubt there were a bunch more going supersonic on their way across the Pacific. I nodded to Legend and gestured at the sky, and he took the hint. Heading toward the new group, he raised his voice. "No flying into the cloud cover! We're reasonably sure the Simurgh will be using it to trap people! And don't go near the lake, either!"
Nobody questioned
him
when he said stuff like that, I noticed. It might've irritated me if I'd let it. But I'd got the point across, so it didn't matter. Now I had something else to address; Alexandria was paying attention, and time was short.
I looked her in the eye. "If I End the Simurgh today, here and now, what sort of bounty can I expect?"
A shocked silence spread across the crowd, barely broken by the
crack
of another bunch of arrivals. Others were coming in now from elsewhere, flying low under the cloud cover. I ignored them all, focusing on Alexandria, whom I knew (and she knew I knew) was also Chief Director Costa-Brown, a woman who had the ear of the President.
The Endbringers had had bounties offered on them early on, when it was thought they might be power-mutated capes, but over the more than a decade since Behemoth's first attack, that had gone by the wayside. Nobody seriously expected a single cape to be able to one-shot an Endbringer. Even the Triumvirate were stretched to their limits when fighting the monsters.
To ask for a bounty, as I'd just done, was akin to asking for a reward for baling out the ocean, or for blowing out the sun. It wasn't just impossible; it was essentially unthinkable.
And yet … I'd asked the question.
And yet … I'd killed 'unkillable' capes before now.
And yet … I'd taken on the Brockton Bay drug trade and beaten it, broken its back then shot it in the head as it lay bleeding in the gutter. Not one of the heroes before me could claim that of their home city. Or villains, for that matter.
Alexandria knew all this, and she met my challenge head-on. "I'd have to make some calls, but if you kill the Simurgh today, I'm thinking two billion dollars is a fair bounty."
"Good." I cracked my neck, first one side and then the other. "Make the wire transfer out to the Brockton Bay Betterment Committee."
The rest of the crowd was silent, apart from the newcomers asking what was going on. But it wasn't the kind of silence that came from anger or fear. It was the kind of silence that arose from sheer, stunned disbelief.
"I'll pass that on," Alexandria said.
That seemed to break some kind of spell, and everyone started talking at once, apparently forgetting that we were waiting on the Simurgh. "Ten seconds!" I yelled. "Brace yourselves! She'll be coming in hot!"
There was just enough time for the assembled heroes to look at each other in apprehension before the Scream started. Hidden by the clouds, the Simurgh was cruising back and forth while trying to narrow down my position. I saw heroes and villains alike grabbing at their heads, while I felt it trying to claw at my brain, though my power shielded me from the worst of it.
At the same time, there was a rumble of large amounts of water in motion; over the trees to the north rose a massive standing wave, with Leviathan embedded within it. If he wanted to reach us, it would take only a few seconds; the wave would roll right over the top of us, as well as any unfortunate citizens still out and about.
"It's stronger than I've ever felt it before!" Legend yelled. "We have to withdraw to a safe distance!"
I shook my head. "There
is
no safe distance! She's out for blood!
My
blood!"
"Then what do you propose?" bellowed Eidolon.
I turned to Flechette. Her face was pinched from the effort of withstanding the Scream, but she was still standing strong beside me. The faith she held in me was inspiring.
It was time to reward that faith. "It's
duck season!" I shouted.
I saw the understanding light up in her eyes. "Wabbit season!" she disagreed.
"Duck season!"
"Wabbit season!"
Alexandria and Eidolon, and about half the crowd, were staring at us as though we'd gone crazy. Legend and Dragon were trying to stop the rest of the crowd from breaking down into a panic.
"Duck season!"
"Wabbit season!"
The time was right. I nodded to Flechette. "Wabbit season!"
"Duck season!" she screamed. "Fire!"
I still had the shotgun in my hand, and I pointed it upward at an angle. Just as the Simurgh swooped past at the right point … I fired.
The Flechette-charged pellets blasted straight into the cloud cover; a split second later, the Scream cut out.
"And
now," I said, my ears trying to ring in the mental silence that followed, "we all step back."
Obediently, Alexandria and Eidolon moved out of the white shape I'd drawn, as did Flechette and I. Not two seconds later, the Simurgh tumbled down out of the sky in a welter of flailing wings. She hit the ground once, bounced, demolished a couple of flagpoles, then landed precisely within the outline I'd drawn out. If the cessation of the mental assault hadn't snapped the assembled capes out of their incipient panic, the double impact certainly did the trick.
As part of the same move, I turned and aimed the shotgun at Leviathan, a mile distant.
"Fuck off," I growled, allowing my power to add its emphasis to mine, "or you're next."
<><>
Leviathan
The Second hadn't seen the point of accompanying the Third to its regularly scheduled assault on a water-bag habitation. Worse, the location was far from the ocean. There was
some
water there, but barely a pittance. Hardly enough to hide under until the time was right, even if the Third
had
deigned to teleport it there.
It wasn't even expected to attack anything until the Third had located the anomalous shard-host, whatever
that
meant. The Third wanted it to hold back and be a menace until the anomaly had been located and disposed of. None of which actually sounded like what the Second wanted to do.
But the Third had insisted, and the Orders had backed it up, and so the Second was hovering on water, waiting to see what the Third accomplished.
What it accomplished, it seemed, was self-obliteration. A water-bag, outdoing even the Third's capability of anticipation, used some kind of weapon to bring the Third down. And then the weapon was pointed at the Second.
[Go away, or face equal destruction.]
The Second normally only communicated in the ripple and swell of water, but it heard
that
well enough.
It had never wanted to be there anyway. Allowing the water-hill to slump back into the basin, the Second called up a thunderstorm and started its run for the coast. If it didn't stop to attack anywhere, it could be there before more annoying water-bags caught up with it.
Especially the one with that weapon, and that Voice.
<><>
Taylor
As Leviathan bolted under the cover of rain, and Eidolon and Legend streaked off to shadow him to the coast, I turned my attention back toward the Simurgh. She twitched feebly as I stepped up, putting one foot on her chest. There was no heartbeat, no rise and fall of breath, but the damage to the core in her main wing had been just enough to disable her—just as I'd planned.
"Listen up, bitch," I said, pointing the shotgun at her core. "There's no way out of this for you. You
are
going to die. But I can give you a quick, painless End, or …" I raised the shears. "I stick these in the hole I just blew in your core, and find something that gives you the equivalent of agony, and I jab it as hard as I can, as often as I can. Long story short, you can die easy or you can die hard. Your choice."
She stared up at me with her sightless eyes. The twitch of her expression, interpreted by my power, asked me the question.
I nodded. "What do I want? It's simple. You fix everyone you ever fucked over with your Scream. Every last Simurgh bomb, healed. Nobody with little pitfalls in their heads." I leaned closer. "And trust me …
I'll know."
For a long, frozen moment, I thought she was going to go with the 'hard' option, just to fuck with me. This had been my best chance to End her legacy as well as her rampage, but I couldn't
make
her undo her work. I could only make her
want
to.
And then, she sagged ever so slightly in surrender. I felt the infinitesimal unthreading of the scar tissue the brief exposure had left in my brain, and I knew she was putting her power toward unfucking everyone she'd ever damaged in this way. It was a strain on her, especially now, but I didn't really give a crap.
Once my power told me it was done—it took a surprisingly short time—I nodded to her. "Good choice." Then I administered the coup de grâce. The shotgun boomed, and her core shattered into a thousand unrepairable pieces.
As I took my foot off the body of the Simurgh, the now-destroyed core directly over the red X I'd painted on the ground, Pocket Rocket finally found his voice. Staring at me, he shook his head.
"What the
fuck
just happened?" he demanded. "Who the fuck
are
you?"
"I'm the one who just netted Brockton Bay another two billion dollars," I responded cheerfully, resting the shotgun against my shoulder. "And what do you know, it
was
duck season."
Alexandria eyed me carefully. "What would it take you—"
"Wait!" called out Dragon, standing tall and pointing at me. "What have you got written on that shotgun?"
I held it up so she could see it, and she let out a bark of laughter, which was definitely an odd thing for a twenty-foot-long robotic Dragon suit to do. "I don't believe it. You actually called it 'The Power of Friendship'?"
"Well, think about it," I said, turning the shotgun so the glowing red text on each side was visible to everyone. "I
said
I would kill the Simurgh with the Power of Friendship. It seemed the simplest way to achieve that."
Alexandria shook her head as Dragon started cackling in the background. "Your puns are almost as lethal as your fighting skills. So, as I was asking, what would it take to get you to commit to killing the other two Endbringers?"
I tilted my head back to look at the now-clearing sky; it was shaping up to be a really nice day in Canberra. Even the thunderstorm retreating to the east at airliner speeds would be out of sight in a moment. "Let's walk and talk. I'm pretty sure that you're not going to want this to get out."
"Alright, then." We headed away from the remains of the Simurgh. Flechette was getting her pictures from every possible angle; her street cred among the New York Wards would be
insane.
Once we were a little way up on the Parliament House, with a good view all around, I stopped and leaned against the retaining wall. My shears spun idly on my left pinky as I spoke. "A few things. First, ten percent of the Federal budget that would've been otherwise put toward handling Endbringer damage, for the next ten years. You know where to send it."
"The Brockton Bay Betterment Committee," she confirmed. "You seem very assured of their integrity. The sums we're talking about would tempt anyone to dip into the till."
I smiled under the mask. "They've already been given a strong object lesson in keeping their hands to themselves."
"Yes, true." She would've been kept aware of that, of course. "And the other things?"
I held up one finger. "The Boat Graveyard. You need to show up with Legend and a few others and remove it, give Lord's Port a chance to recover." We both knew the actual recovery would be accomplished with the Betterment Committee money.
She nodded in agreement. "Easily achieved. And?"
"One more thing. And you are
not
going to like this one." My tone also managed to express the fact that I didn't give a damn what she liked or didn't like.
Her expression turned wary. "I'm listening."
"Eidolon needs to die." I didn't make it a dramatic statement, just one of simple fact.
Water is wet, the sun is hot, Eidolon needs to die.
It was interesting to see her go to full poker face in that instant. "Why?"
Intriguingly enough, she hadn't refused outright, or even cited reasons why not. She was willing to negotiate and hear me out, even when it came to the life of her teammate and (I presumed) long-time friend.
That
was how much the Ending of the Endbringers was worth to her. Or how little Eidolon meant to her; one of the two.
"Some time in the future, if he's left alive, Eidolon's going to cause a major problem for Brockton Bay. People are going to die. A lot of my work is going to be undone. I'm nipping that in the bud now. Either he dies, or you get to deal with the Endbringers
your
way."
The way that
doesn't
work, I didn't have to add.
Her eyes flickered, glancing down at the Simurgh. I had deliberately showboated the kill and made it look easy. That had to be factoring into her thought processes right now. "He does a lot of good …" she prevaricated.
"Does he save more people than the Endbringers kill?" We both knew the answer to that one. "He dies, or the deal's off."
"Wait." She'd finally seen the loophole that I was dangling in front of her. "You can kill powers, correct? Could you kill
his
powers but leave him alive? Would that satisfy you?"
"Hmm …" I pretended reluctance. With my morph mask and total control of my tells, she had no way of reading me like she normally could with people. "I
suppose
so. You have to convince him, though. He's got to be willing. Villains, I'll just take their powers away. Heroes get the choice."
It was almost hilarious how eagerly she grasped at the lifeline for Eidolon. Apparently she did care for him, after all. "I'll talk to him."
"You do that. He should be back in a few minutes. I'm just going to make sure Flechette hasn't wandered off and gotten into trouble."
Still twirling the shears, I strolled back down off the slope and past the water feature (I would've had the Simurgh land there, but that would've ruined it for the real ducks) to where Flechette was standing at the periphery of the crowd. There were a whole bunch of heroes, and not a few villains, who'd come fully expecting to suffer mindfuckery and maybe even die, and they hadn't even had to use their powers. The general air was, 'Okay, what now?'
"Ladies, gentlemen, and others!" I called out. They paid attention to me, even more so than before the fight. Any would-be hecklers were notably silent. "Thank you for attending the very last Simurgh battle! Or, as I call it, the Great Duck Hunt!" I held the shotgun high to a general cheer. Dragon added a steam-train style whistle that echoed off the distant Old Parliament House.
"What about Leviathan?" Ah, there were the hecklers. "You let him get away!"
"Pull your head in!" That was Pocket Rocket. "She told him to fuck off—and he
went!"
"I'll be dealing with him and Behemoth in due time," I confirmed. "I've just concluded an arrangement with Alexandria for Ending the Endbringer threat for all time! When I'm done, there'll be no more Endbringer attacks! They are
finished!"
Stunned silence greeted my words. They'd
seen
me destroy the Simurgh and End her legacy, but the idea of doing the same to Leviathan and Behemoth was hard for them to get their heads around. Then, Lily and Pocket Rocket began clapping.
The applause spread through the crowd until they were all cheering again. I headed over to Lily, who had her phone in her hand. It looked like she'd just gotten a picture of me coming down off the Parliament House.
"You said you were going to use your shears to kill the other Endbringers," she reminded me. "How are you going to do
that? They're a lot more dangerous than the Simurgh was."
I grinned. "She was the hard one. The other two? Won't even see it coming." I raised my hands for quiet, and the capes closest to me shut up. The silence spread through the crowd until they were all listening again. "Thank you all for coming! You can go home if you want! We got this!"
As the crowd began to disperse, some clustering around Strider, Lily looked up at me. "And that's it? We just kill an Endbringer then go home?"
"Not quite." I shook my head. "Still got one more bit of business to take care of."
"What?" She saw where I was looking to the east, and turned her gaze that way as well. Legend and Eidolon were tiny dots in the sky, but coming on fast. Of the disturbed weather Leviathan had left in his wake, there was little sign.
"Eidolon," I said, then shut up as Dragon headed over in our direction.
"Hey," she said cheerfully. "I kind of expected a show when you attended but
damn, you've got a way of exceeding expectations."
I gave her a polite nod. "It
is
kind of my business model. How've you been, anyway?"
"Making progress, making progress." She looked around as Legend landed next to us, while Eidolon touched down near Alexandria. "I'll leave you alone now, but we can catch up later."
"Totally." 'Making progress' sounded hopeful. Once she got rid of those particular chains, I'd be able to remove the backdoor into her sensory network. "See you around."
Legend nodded politely to Dragon, then turned to me. "Leviathan was swimming for deep water, the last we saw him. Nobody's ever scared off an Endbringer before."
"That was the general idea." I twirled the shears again. "You're okay with getting Flechette back to New York? I've got a little business with Alexandria and Eidolon to deal with."
"Sure." He turned to Lily. "Ready to go?"
"Just one second." She took a quick picture of me standing next to her boss, with the wreckage of the Simurgh in the background, then came and gave me a hug. "Thanks for bringing me along. It was
amazing.
Scary as hell, but amazing."
"You're welcome." I patted her on the back. "See you when you visit Brockton Bay next."
"Absolutely." She turned to Legend. "Let's go. I've got
so
much to tell the others about."
I turned and strolled over to where Alexandria was explaining matters to Eidolon. He was radiating something between anger and disbelief, and the anger was winning. As I climbed the slope toward them, he turned toward me. "What the hell is this? Why are you bargaining my powers against the lives of millions?
Billions?"
Neither of us had visible eyes, but I knew where his were anyway. "Why are
you
clinging to your powers when you could be saving billions by giving them up?"
"But why do I even have to give them up?"
He didn't quite shout the question, but his voice wasn't quiet. Energy began to gather around his hands; more a sign of agitation than intent to attack me, I gauged.
"Because you
will
cause problems for Brockton Bay in the future if I don't act now." I injected a thoughtful tone into my voice. "Or would you secretly rather the Endbringers keep causing havoc so you can be the big hero and fight them? Is that why you don't want me to End them?"
"I don't want them to hurt anyone!"
His fists were clenched so hard now, he had to be bruising his palms. Turning to Alexandria, he gestured at me. "Tell
her! You know me better than that!"
She looked at me, then at him. "I know you'd never do anything deliberately to cause harm," she said quietly. "But all too often, powers come with unintended consequences. And Atropos
has
shown an unparalleled level of prescience in matters like this."
"But … what if she hates me for something I don't even remember doing?" he pleaded. "What if this has all been a ploy to make me give up my powers, for some kind of twisted revenge?"
"I'd give mine up," she said unexpectedly. "If it meant the Endbringers would never trouble the world again, I'd do it."
"But she's not
asking
you!" He lowered his voice slightly, even though I could still hear him perfectly well. "And what about … well,
you
know.
Him."
This argument was threatening to start going around in circles, so I stepped in. "I'll be dealing with
him
in due course, too. But here and now, this is about you and your powers. Not Alexandria's, and not Legend's. Yours."
Alexandria stared at me. "Wait … you'll
what?" From the way both she and Eidolon fixated on me, it was lucky she didn't have eye Blaster powers (and that he hadn't picked any for the day).
I sighed. "What part of 'Can actually kill anything' did you not understand? He can die, therefore I can kill him. But that's for later. Eidolon, right now you have the choice to become the most revered hero in history. By giving up your powers, you will pave the way for me to End the Endbringers. You will save literally billions from death, starvation and misery. But I'm not going to force you to do this. You have to decide for yourself."
Even with that incentive, with all the certitude I was able to pour into my voice, it was a hard-fought decision on his part. He paced back and forth, fists clenched, head bowed. The desire to be the greatest hero in the world battled with itself, and the contest swayed from one side to the other.
Finally, he stomped up to us. It didn't matter that he was wearing an opaque visor; I could still feel him glaring at me. Only with my power could I tell that he didn't intend to attack me.
"Fine," he grated. "Let's do this. What do I need to do?"
I stopped twirling the shears and stepped forward. "Are you willing to allow me to kill your powers?" I asked formally. "And are you aware you are doing this so that the Endbringers will no longer bring death, misery and suffering to the world?"
He took a deep breath, then let it out again. "Yes," he said, more quietly. "Yes, I am."
"Good," I said. I slashed across his armoured chest with the shears, Lily's treatment allowing it to carve through the ceramic and metal like particularly soft butter. The tip, bearing Riley's goop, barely scored his skin; in doing so, I carved his official emblem on his chest, through the armour. As the last of Lily's effect left the shears, I snipped the air once in front of his face, then sheathed them. "And … done."
"That's it?" asked Alexandria. "It's done? His powers are gone?"
I nodded, then turned to Eidolon. "Go ahead. Reach for a power."
From the very moment that the shears had first scored his skin, Riley's substance had been racing through his bloodstream. It had long since reached his brain and set about cutting off his Corona Pollentia from the rest of his body, starving it of blood and ending his connection to his powers. The time I took to say those final words were all it had needed.
"I don't feel any different." He flexed his hands, looking down at them expectantly. "What the hell? How did you do that?"
"With style and panache." I gave him a slight bow. "Thank you for your sacrifice. The Endbringers are as good as gone."
"Wait," she said, as I started to turn away. "What you said about Cauldron not being allowed into Brockton Bay …"
"Still stands." I looked back at her. "If Doctor Mother shows her face in my city, I
will
shoot her in the face. Just saying." Taking out my shears, I mimed snipping out a portal in midair. "Toodles."
The portal formed right on schedule, and I left Canberra behind me.
<><>
Cherish
Cherie looked up from the late TV show as the shadowy portal appeared in the living room, and Taylor stepped out of it. The moment the shadows dissipated, Taylor sagged. "Ugh, what a day."
Getting up from the sofa, Cherie helped Taylor take off the hat, mask and long-coat. "Come on, sit down. I'll get you a drink from the kitchen."
Slumping onto the sofa, Taylor let out a long sigh. "You are undoubtedly an angel in human form."
Cherie giggled as she headed through into the kitchen. "Well, that's a first. Rough one?"
"Little bit." Taylor had her eyes closed by the time Cherie came back with a glass of fruit juice, though she was still talking. "Saved Canberra, ganked the Simurgh, made Leviathan run like a little bitch, and depowered Eidolon. And I had to make sure I got every step just right.
Whoof. Fun as hell, and it's a rush like no other, but
damn
it's good to be home."
Mr Hebert came downstairs at that point, and leaned into the living room. "Oh, hi, Taylor. You look like I feel after a long day at the Association."
Taylor chuckled, accepting the glass. "Trust me, I feel rougher than I look. But the PHO reactions are gonna go super-viral. Is that a thing? I suspect it's going to be a thing."
"Well, you'll have earned it." Cherie settled down beside her and gave her a hug. "Welcome back."
Taylor closed her eyes again, and leaned against her. "It's good to be home."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N 1: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
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♦ Topic: Duck Season is OverIn: Boards ► Brockton Bay ► New Capes ► AtroposAtropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me) (Verified Dethpicable)Posted On Feb 24th 2011:Greetings to the citizens of the best gosh-darned city in these United States of America. I love you all.I hope you've had a fruitful and fulfilling day over the last twenty-four hours, because I sure have.Just a few hours ago, it was midday in Canberra, Australia (yeah, I know, time zones are weird). That wasn't exactly anything to be worried about; midday happens there every day, around the same time. (Though I'm going to have to think about getting a summer-weight costume if I ever go back there at this time of year, because let me tell you, wearing all black down there gets kind of warm, kind of fast).The thing to be worried about was the Simurgh; or, as I call her, the subject of The Great Duck Hunt. Most people who attend a Simurgh attack want to help drive her off before they die (or end up with their brains dribbling out their ears). Me, I was gonna bag myself a big noisy duck.I'd already mentioned to people that I was going to End the Simurgh with the Power of Friendship, and that's exactly what I did. She came down to where I was, making all kinds of noise and hassle, and she even brought big bro Levi along to lean on us.So, I made use of the classic
Duck Season/Wabbit Season
skit with my friend Flechette (I brought her along because she attended the fund-raiser in Brockton Bay a little while ago, and because people look at you oddly if you just try to start that skit up out of the blue) and shot that bitch out of the sky. Then I 'persuaded' her to let go all the Simurgh bombs before I finished her skanky ass off with the other barrel. One Endbringer, along with her legacy, Ended.If you're wondering what Leviathan was doing at this point, it's simple. Once I had Smurfette down and disabled, I told him to fuck off while he still could. So he did. Won't save his sorry ass now that I've been asked to deal with him and Behemoth too, but at least he gets to enjoy the ocean until I come for him.Oh, and by the way, kudos to the Aussie hero Pocket Rocket (@PocketRocket) for the nickname 'Bin Chicken of Doom' for the Simurgh. I looked up 'bin chicken' after I got home, and I haven't laughed so hard in a long time. Check it out [here].So yes, The Power of Friendship is a double-barrel sawn-off shotgun. It's a nasty, vicious weapon, perfect for fucking up the entire existence of a nasty, vicious Endbringer. I'm going to be putting it up for auction (including the expended shells, still in the breech, that Ended the Simurgh once and for all) to the highest bidder. It's been suggested to me that entire *countries* might want to lease it to show off to their populace the weapon that killed an Endbringer. I honestly don't care; whoever wants to throw money at me for it, I'll funnel it toward the Brockton Bay Betterment Committee.In not entirely unrelated other news, the Committee will be getting a large chunk of change to help them continue their good works. The US government has pledged two billion, plus there's been a few extra donations from other places that she's pissed off. And, if you haven't gotten any tourist-style pics of the Boat Graveyard, you might want to get those now, because (spoilers) it's going away soon.Also, expect another stimulus payment soon. Infrastructure will be going into high gear, and they're expecting a housing boom because people will be moving into Brockton Bay. I mean, can you blame them?Just a word to the wise, though. All of you would-be entrepreneurs who've decided to make a quick buck by racing into Brockton Bay, buying up cheap properties and either selling or leasing them at vastly inflated prices ... don't.First: I know who you are.Second: Yes, I know it's legal. I don't care.Third: I don't only fuck up supervillains. They're just usually the ones who piss me off.Fourth: This *is* a warning.I am perfectly okay with people moving into Brockton Bay, settling down, getting jobs, raising their kids and living a nice, safe, prosperous life. The thing is, I want *everyone* to prosper, not just a chosen few. A prosperous population is a healthy population. More money moving through the system means better infrastructure, better schools, better public services. Everyone wins. The city wins.Bottom line: anyone indulging in predatory business practices involving Brockton Bay can expect a visit from me, because I don't tolerate bullshit like that.Last, and definitely least: Christine, Elijah (you know who you are), you've already been warned. Don't make me come over there.To everyone else, have a safe and happy day.Toodles!
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►Bagrat
(Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)Replied On Feb 24th 2011:
Uh, haha, wow.
Holy shit. She did it.
She actually went ahead and did it. With the Power of Friendship, even.
Atropos 1, Simurgh 0.
I can't even, guys and girls. I've been following Atropos' career more or less from the beginning, and this one's too big for me.
*pauses to breathe into a paper bag*
I thought Lung was big.
I thought Jack Slash was big.
I thought Butcher was big.
Hell, I thought Bastard Son was big.
But those were just the warm-up acts. That was just her flexing and stretching before she got serious.
Well, thanks to Dragon's multiple camera drones, we've just seen how goddamn serious Atropos can get when she wants to be.
I don't know what's more legitimately terrifying: how she was so sure of herself that she negotiated the bounty *before* the Simurgh showed up, how she knew the Simurgh was due before anyone else and went there first, how she thought so little of the Simurgh that she used an old Warner Brothers cartoon as inspiration for the kill, or how she used a sawn-off shotgun to do it with.
(Though I think the GIF of Flechette shouting "Duck season! Fire!" then Atropos firing, then the Simurgh coming in for a crash landing will *never* get old. I mean, NEVER.)
Also, I've heard a rumor that March, over in New York, got absolutely *pummeled* just hours before Flechette was due to come to BB for that memorable hospital fundraiser, and that the rapier Atropos was using ... was March's. March's theme is 'March hare' so she wears a rabbit-head mask ... so did that tie into Atropos' use of the Duck Season Wabbit Season skit?
I suspect we'll never know. I also suspect I know the answer. Because Atropos is a smartass like that.
As for the rest of it ... well.
To all of you people from out of town who think they might have a chance of coming to Brockton Bay and playing fuck-fuck games (as a PRT trooper friend of mine so colorfully puts it) ... haha, no, don't even try it.
How do I put this?
Atropos is like a vastly more dangerous Santa Claus. If you piss her off, she can step out of the shadows right behind you, no matter where you are. And if you incur a third warning, you'll *be* the piece of coal in the stocking.
Just saying.
PS: I looked up Bin Chickens. Pocket Rocket, you're a braver man than I ever will be.
►Spirit_of_Alaya
(Verified Member of Atropos Fan Club)Replied On Feb 24th 2011:
That was appropriately hilarious and hilariously appropriate.
In other words, exactly what we've come to expect from Atropos.
►BlackQueen99Replied On Feb 24th 2011:
"Bin chicken of doom" sounds exactly like what a couple of tradies would call the city destroying angel, after a night of drinks at the pub.
Source: am Australian.
@PocketRocket - you're a legend, mate!
►Reave
(Verified PRT Agent)Replied On Feb 24th 2011:
I've got nothing to say, except ... well ...
I've been authorized to sit down anywhere at your convenience and discuss how we can work with you.
Damn fine work, there. I would've asked why you didn't pop Leviathan while you had him in your sights, but we both know that running won't save him.
On behalf of everyone you saved today, and everyone your actions have saved or helped in Brockton Bay ... thank you.
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me) (Verified Dethpicable)Replied On Feb 24th 2011:
Thanks for the kind words.
@Reave - I'll be in touch. You, me and the Director. We're pretty much on the same page now anyway.
►RedSkinnedGentlemanReplied On Feb 24th 2011:
Lots of people are going to be eating crow on PHO, and generally around the world too, who doubted that Atropos could do what she said she was going to do.
I mean, seriously. A shotgun and a Bugs Bunny reference. Talk about an anti-climax.
►DaleyReplied On Feb 24th 2011:
So, who's up for some memes?
Ziz forgot to Duck.
What's Atropos's favorite food? Freshly cooked Duck.
Why do you never play chess with Atropos? [pic of Simurgh's corpse in the chalk outline] This is why.
►PocketRocket
(Verified Cape)Replied On Feb 24th 2011:
Oh, hey. I wondered why my phone was blowing up.
Just gonna say, I did not mean to make that bin chicken comment. I get a bit mouthy when I'm scared shitless.
@Atropos - sorry I gave you a hard time when you showed up. You were totally right, all the way down the line. Those bloody pollies should be chipping in for your Betterment Fund. Its a bloody crying shame that theyre not stepping up as well when theyre the ones whose arses were saved.
I need to put the phone away now because Im already full as a boot and the booze doesn't look like it's slowing down any time soon.
►PerpetratorReplied On Feb 24th 2011:
I heard of this one time a Russian city had such a big party, they ran out of vodka. I suspect this is going to be even bigger, from what Pocket Rocket is saying. And worldwide.
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►AntAuthorReplied On Feb 24th 2011:
Oh yeah. This is a big fucking deal. From what I've seen and heard online, the celebrations world wide are gonna be legendary.
►ShyAnimeGirlReplied On Feb 24th 2011:
*chortles* Simurgh got Looney Tuned. I love it!
►TabulaRasaReplied On Feb 24th 2011:
Has anyone seen the bodycam footage put up by that Aussie cop? He actually calls her a smartass.
He's never going to pay for another drink in his life, is he?
►TwinSolsticeReplied On Feb 24th 2011:
I wonder how many countries she just earned a Presidential Medal of Freedom and/or Congressional Gold Medal equivalent from? I suspect every nation that has been hit by the Ziz and thus has a Quarantine Zone due to her at a minimum, which will probably expand to every nation to have ever suffered an Enbringer attack once she gets around to ganking the other two...
►MarineLupineReplied On Feb 24th 2011:
Wait, Bin Chickens are real? What the hell?
►VegesReplied On Feb 24th 2011:
But who will think of the poor groundskeeper?
I mean, look at the damage to the flagpoles, and the grass!
That's going to take forever to fix!
(/s, if anyone wasn't sure)
►JulietWhiskeyMoFoReplied On Feb 24th 2011:
There are two constants in life, Death and Atropos. And I'm not sure they aren't the same thing.
►SakinReplied On Feb 24th 2011:
New meme:
"The World's Most Famous Lawn Darting"
Also, another Atropos Fact:
"Why did the Bin Chicken of Doom pick Canberra? Because she thought the other side of the bloody planet would be safe from Atropos. It wasn't."
►BlackQueen99Replied On Feb 24th 2011:
Just gonna say, if they put up a monument where it happened, they're also gonna have to put a sign there saying, "THE SIMURGH IS NOT BURIED HERE. PLEASE DO NOT URINATE ON THE MONUMENT."
Source: am Australian. I know my people.
►687simianreaderReplied On Feb 24th 2011:
Just a few thoughts:
By taking out Ziz the way she did, she didn't just end the legacy; she inherited part of the world wide rep built up around the Endbringers.
A hard fought battle to drive off an Endbringer is something that people can understand. But just making a casual meme skit to kill one, that is a whole other level of flex. She is not just a "very effective killer." Any thought about "I can take her" has got to be gone for any of the non crazy capes. She singlehandedly elevated herself to Endbringer level of respect and fear. And it's an international level of reputation and respect.
She is a force of nature like the Endbringers but she has also proven to be scrupulously fair and honest in her dealing, and importantly, *predictable*. It's much preferable to have a known force that one can work around.
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PRIVATE MESSAGETo: GreatAndTerribleAishaFrom: AtroposSubject: Bedtime alreadyDo I have to ping Brian's phone?
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PRIVATE MESSAGETo: TheRealPanaceaFrom: AtroposSubject: Interested in another side gig?What it says in the title.If I brought you some biological material, could you make something out of it for me?
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PRIVATE MESSAGETo: AtroposFrom: GreatAndTerribleAishaSubject: Re: Bedtime alreadyBut, but, Simurgh dead, everyone celebrating!
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PRIVATE MESSAGETo: AtroposFrom: TheRealPanaceaSubject: Re: Interested in another side gig?*suspicious glare* what sort of bio-material?
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PRIVATE MESSAGETo: GreatAndTerribleAishaFrom: AtroposSubject: Re: Re: Bedtime alreadyStill a school day tomorrow. And you're enough of a gremlin when you're well rested.
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PRIVATE MESSAGETo: TheRealPanaceaFrom: AtroposSubject: Re: Re: Interested in another side gig?Not a person. A critter. A pest. If I brought you something that needs to be eliminated, could you tailor a virus to attack specific genetic markers?
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PRIVATE MESSAGETo: AtroposFrom: GreatAndTerribleAishaSubject: Re: Re: Re: Bedtime alreadyWhy can't we have a long weekend? I bet every other school in the state will be closed.
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PRIVATE MESSAGETo: AtroposFrom: TheRealPanaceaSubject: Re: Re: Re: Interested in another side gig?What if I don't agree that it needs to be eliminated?
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PRIVATE MESSAGETo: GreatAndTerribleAishaFrom: AtroposSubject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Bedtime alreadyJust between you and me, they'll be letting everyone out after lunch. But you still have to show up in the morning and pay attention.
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PRIVATE MESSAGETo: TheRealPanaceaFrom: AtroposSubject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Interested in another side gig?Then you don't do it. I'm certainly not going to force you. That way lies disaster.
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PRIVATE MESSAGETo: AtroposFrom: GreatAndTerribleAishaSubject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Bedtime alreadyUgh, fine. I'll learn stuff. Just for you.Logging off now.
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PRIVATE MESSAGETo: AtroposFrom: TheRealPanaceaSubject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Interested in another side gig?*sigh* I'm gonna regret this, aren't I? Okay, fine, bring it around.
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<><>
TaylorWinslow was buzzing the next morning as Cherie and I climbed the front steps. Even I could feel the emotional currents going through the place, and I didn't have any kind of emotion powers. Cherie stumbled as we came in through the front doors, and leaned against the wall."You okay?" I asked. "What happened?""Wow, damn," she mumbled. "I think I'm high. I've never had so many happy people this close to me at once. Even on the bus it wasn't this bad. And I think half of them stayed home from school."I chuckled. "Well, that's a new one on me. Come on, let's go sit down in the library for a bit. Get you used to this much euphoria."It didn't surprise me that people were still thrilled over the Simurgh's death. She'd been basically asking for it for far too long. From what I understood, the parties were still going on in some parts of Brockton Bay, and pharmacies would've been sold out of headache remedies in short order if they hadn't already ordered in fresh stocks.Every country on Earth that had been hit by the Simurgh, especially those with large numbers of people affected by her scream, was celebrating. It was a worldwide block party, and it was still ongoing. Only essential workers were being required to come in, and (at least in Brockton Bay) they were being paid overtime wages, as specified by Accord's plan for the city (in the appendix covering 'in the case of Atropos killing an Endbringer'). He really did plan for everything.Once we got to the library, Cherie started looking a little better, though her eyes were still slightly unfocused. "This is wild," she mumbled. "I mean, I'm not religious, but it's like my personal vision of a thousand angelic choirs all singing in my head at once.""That might be a little distracting, yeah," I agreed. "Think you can stick it out until lunchtime?" I'd already told her, as I had Aisha, that school would be letting out around then."I can do that." She tilted her head and frowned slightly. "That's funny. I just got a distinct down-note from Principal Blackwell. Like she's thrilled and terrified at the same time, and isn't sure which way to jump.""I'm not surprised." At her querying glance, I grinned. "She got notification this morning that Winslow is about to get a distinct boost in funding. The whole school is getting a top-to-toe renovation, better facilities and equipment, and more teachers. The downside is that her management of the school is going to be thoroughly audited first, going back the full seven years. We're talking fine-tooth comb."Cherie began to giggle helplessly. "She's never gonna pass that audit, is she?"I shook my head solemnly. "No. No, she is not." What had started out as a bad day for Blackwell was going to become even worse when she found out that the School Board had already authorised the audit. As a karma-guided cherry on top, she was going to subsequently discover that all the really incriminating electronic records were refusing to allow themselves to be deleted or overwritten.It was all part of my master plan. If the city were to prosper, every part of it had to be competently managed. Blackwell's management of Winslow had been anything but competent, so she had to go. She could most likely find a job elsewhere; with the amount of money about to end up in the local economy, there would absolutely be jobs available for everyone. Just so long as she didn't end up with the welfare of children in her hands.Of course, if she
really
screwed up the audit, there was the possibility of prison in her future, which didn't bother me in the slightest.Whether it wanted to or not, Winslow
was
going to become a tolerable school.
<><>
House of RepresentativesCapitol Building, Washington DCAlexandriaRebecca heard the raised voices from within even before she reached the doors leading into the House chamber. The two guards snapped to attention but did nothing to stop her, mainly because she'd called ahead. Holding the envelope in her left hand, she opened the doors and stepped through, then closed them behind her.Nobody looked around as the arguing continued. It didn't seem to matter who had the floor; everyone else seemed intent on shouting them down. Rebecca's fingers itched with the urge to bang heads together, but she restrained herself. Instead, moving with all the imperious grace she could muster, she descended the long aisle toward where the Speaker was fruitlessly trying to maintain order in this most august of assemblies.I should've expected this myself,
she mused with an inward sigh. Apportioning two billion dollars out of the blue to one small city in the north-east of the US wouldn't have even made it through committee in less than two weeks, except that Atropos had requested it in return for Ending the Simurgh. Which she'd achieved, surprising the living
fuck
out of everyone there.In her current persona of Chief Director Costa-Brown, she had passed on the bounty request and agreement, along with a discreet suggestion that the payment be fast-tracked for obvious reasons. With the actual, confirmed demise of the Simurgh (the remains were currently locked away in a location known to a very few people, of whom she was one) paying the bounty should've been a gimme. It wasn't as though there were any pros or cons to debate.However, politicians were indeed politicians, and all too many of them—fully aware that this particular bill couldn't
not
pass—had taken the opportunity to attach as much pork as possible to the bill as they could hang off it. Neither side of the House was entirely blameless in this, and the impasse thus created as both sides railed at each other for what they themselves were trying to do, was threatening to hold the bill in stasis forever. Or at least, long enough for Atropos to get annoyed with them.The Speaker of the House banged his gavel several times as Rebecca approached the Well of the House; gradually, as more and more members took notice of her, the voices died down. Every eye tracked her as she turned left at the bottom of the Aisle and walked—marched, rather—around to the desk of the Sergeant at Arms. Forewarned of her visit to the House, he rose from his seat and escorted her up the steps to the Speaker's podium.The Speaker greeted her with a handshake, then spoke into the microphone. "Our very distinguished PRT Chief Director Rebecca Costa-Brown has requested a moment of your attention. She has the floor."Ignoring the murmuring that emanated from those who had been heatedly arguing with one another just moments before, Rebecca faced front and discreetly cleared her throat. Getting this far had involved calling in a couple of markers, but if it worked, it would be worth it."Thank you, Mr Speaker," she began. "Honourable Members of the House." In many cases, the latter just wasn't accurate, but the old saw about honey and vinegar still held true. "I won't take up much of your time. I'm here to pass on a message regarding this deadlock on the wording of the bill before the House at the moment. The message is from Atropos."As she spoke, more and more murmurs started up and continued until she dropped the name. That was when
everyone
shut the hell up. Taking the envelope, she lifted the flap and extracted the folded note, ensuring that the microphone picked up the sound of paper rustling on paper. Then she unfolded the note and held it up."The message is as follows," she said, and raised her eyes to look out over the House chamber. "Don't make me come over there."Sliding the note back into the envelope, she nodded politely to the Speaker, then walked back down the steps to the floor. Not a word was spoken, not even a cough sounded through the suddenly silent atmosphere of the House. All she could hear, as she walked back up the Aisle and let herself out through the doors, was the sound of four hundred thirty-five people suddenly reconsidering their current priorities.I have to hand it to Atropos, she mused as she walked out through the venerable corridors of the Capitol building.
The girl
does
have a way with words.
<><>
MiddayTaylor"Rest of the day free, woo!" Cherie exulted, holding her arms up in the air and executing a passable pirouette. "So, what are we gonna do now? Go online and see how many different 'the Simurgh, she ded' memes they've got up on PHO by now?""More than you would've considered possible," I said with a chuckle. Just like with Riley, I was pleased to see how she was coming out of her shell and expressing herself more and more since the crap had been excised from her life. "I was actually going to have a chat with a frenemy of mine. Did you bring your mask like I said?""I totally did." Cherie dived her hand into her pocket and showed me a corner of the pastel pink mask she'd fashioned for herself. "I didn't think you had frenemies. Just friends and dead people."I rolled my eyes. "I don't murder
everyone
who disagrees with me. Sometimes I let them just … be themselves. She still thinks like a hero most of the time, which means she tells herself that she's got to oppose me occasionally on principle.""Huh. Okay." Cherie glanced around. "Did you want to find someplace to suit up?"I knew there was nobody watching right at the moment. "Go wait at the bus stop. I'll be about ten minutes." As I spoke, I pushed my sleeve up and flicked open the control panel on the teleporter."Ten minutes?" Cherie frowned. "Why ten min—"I didn't have time for this discussion, so I jumped into the girls' bathrooms on the third floor, which I knew to be empty. Taking off my backpack, I stashed it in the ceiling and pulled down the one containing my costume. It took me all of one minute to get changed, and to line the pack with the heavy-duty plastic bag that I'd taken from home.The pistol was loaded, but I checked chamber anyway before I set up the next teleport. It was somewhat farther than a hundred yards, so I programmed in a series of coordinates and readied myself. Taking a deep breath, I hit the 'go' button, and snapped the panel closed.The shadowy portal unfolded in front of me, and I stepped through. I was in a narrow alleyway between two buildings, though the walls leaned drunkenly toward each other until they met some little way above my head. Beyond the entrance of the alley, the rustic cobblestoned street meandered artistically from side to side.The small goblinoid creature that shambled past seemed to be all heavy jaw and snaggled teeth, but there was nothing wrong with his reactions. As I raised the pistol, he spun toward me, eyes widening and mouth opening to let out what I just
knew
was going to be a deafening screech of warning. I fired first, the bullet punching through the back of his throat and severing his spinal cord just where it met the base of his brain.Hollywood seemed to think that suppressors entirely silenced pistols, or at least made it barely audible. They did nothing of the sort; however, they
did
mute the sharpest part of a gunshot, and make it much harder to triangulate. Anyone who was unfamiliar with firearms might be left wondering what the noise was.I knew the alarm would be raised in short order, so I wasted no time in dragging the little critter into the alley and stuffing him into my pack. The plastic liner stopped his blood and brain matter from getting everywhere, though he was surprisingly heavy when I shrugged the pack onto my back. But I couldn't waste time congratulating myself; I still needed to evade the opposition (while
not
drawing the attention of the PRT) until the teleporter recharged enough to make a proper jump out of here.'Here' being Ellisburg, of course. Where the horrific little critter I'd just killed was the
least
deadly thing I was likely to encounter.This was gonna be
fun.
And interesting. But mainly fun.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
Relevant Side StoryDannyLooking at each member of the Committee in turn, Danny placed his hands flat on the table. "Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. Thank you for attending this early meeting on this most auspicious of days. I have it on impeccable authority that the bounty Atropos negotiated with Alexandria will be disbursed to our care within the next twenty-four hours. After a slight hiccup in the House of Representatives, the bill passed through the Senate so fast I suspect it left scorch marks."Dawson Stansfield frowned and lifted his chin slightly. "Did I hear correctly? Is the amount two
billion
dollars?""That's what I understand, yes." Danny had pretty well gotten over the shakes after hearing about that … and exactly
how
Taylor had acquired it. Then he'd suffered a whole
new
series of jitters when Taylor had explained the ongoing bounties for the other two Endbringers. If he had his figures correct, there was going to be another
hundred billion
dollars dropping into the account over the next ten years.At its most prosperous, the Dockworkers' Association had never even handled one
percent
of that much cash. He hadn't been tempted to dip into the till then, and he didn't feel tempted now. But he did feel remarkably inadequate for the task of responsibly handling amounts of cash with so many zeroes attached.One of the two newbies—if Danny recalled correctly, he was attached to the Harbor Board—cleared his throat. "Does that mean there'll be a surplus after we carry out the current plans?" The other one murmured in agreement.What. The. Fuck. We just got
past
this shit. Danny stared at the two men in disbelief. "Who brought you two clowns on board?" Flicking his eyes away from them, he looked around the table. "Come on, who did this?"The mood in the room, originally upbeat—two billion dollars made for a nice addition to
any
budget—screeched to a sudden halt. James Alcott, the Mayor's brother-in-law, and Peter Hanson, from the City Works department, raised their hands like recalcitrant schoolboys.Danny eyed them disfavourably. "What the hell did you two tell them?"Alcott glanced at Hanson, evidently suggesting that he would speak for the both of them. Hanson nodded."We told them that the plans would be followed to the full," Alcott ventured. "No deviation, no diversion to private projects.""And nothing else?" Danny hoped he was hearing incorrectly.Alcott finally figured out where they'd gone wrong, and shook his head. "Sorry. No. Nothing else."Danny glared at him, then clenched his fist and smashed it down on the table. Everyone in the room jumped. "You fucking
idiots.
Fine. I'll fix your mess." He turned his attention to the two new members. "The plans we are given will be followed
exactly. We don't divert funds, we don't hold anything back to artificially create a surplus, we don't skip any part of the plan just because we don't think it's necessary. When we get more money, like now, we will be supplied with an updated plan that covers the new funding.
All
of it. There will never
be
a surplus. Am I making myself clear?"One of them nodded, but the other one looked dubious. "Are you trying to tell me that
none
of this money is being diverted? You're the project head. How much is going into
your
… private projects?" Danny knew he meant 'pockets', but was being too polite to say so."Not. One. Red. Cent." Danny leaned forward over the table. "Here's the detail you weren't told about. We are overseen by
Atropos.
She knows all the details of everything that goes on here. I speak with her regularly. When the two people you are replacing tried to divert some of the money to their own ends, I managed to convince her that it wasn't a crime worthy of death. So instead,
this
happened." His briefcase sat beside his chair. Lifting it onto the table, he snapped the catches and took out the Manila envelope that sat on top, where Taylor had suggested he put it. The photos slid out onto the table as he shook it. They stared, turning pale."Jesus fucking Christ," muttered Alcott, turning his head away. "We've already
seen
those.""Then pay
attention," Danny snarled. "Maybe I should put them up on the bulletin board. We've been given a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to get this city back up off its knees and make it a powerhouse in the region. If you don't think you've got the chops to do it, then back the fuck off and let someone who
can,
do it. But be aware: this is probably the first and last time you will ever get the chance to see a project like this through without any corruption or kickbacks fucking it up for everyone. One hundred percent transparency. One hundred percent accountability. One hundred percent results. Is there any part of this you do not understand?"Slowly, one after the other, each of the men and women seated around the table shook their heads. Alcott spoke for them all. "We've got it. You don't have to keep hammering on that point.""Apparently I do, if the new people you bring in aren't fully up to speed on all the important information." Danny shook his head. "If we let another Janice Templeton or Paul King slip through, that's on us. I've been told directly by Atropos that what happened to them were our two warnings; the next one who tries any shit like that will
die.
Probably by having dollar coins shoved down their throat until they choke to death, or something equally ironic."Stansfield nodded grimly. "I can totally see that, yes."Danny grinned mirthlessly. "On the upside, as I was about to say before I was interrupted, the upgraded plan for the two billion will involve a stipend for each of us, coming to one hundred dollars per day." As the voices started up, he raised his hand. They subsided again, and he continued. "Yes, I know that's basically chicken feed to some of you. You earn more than that in passive income. The reason it isn't more for you is that you don't
need
the money. Some of us do. You're getting it because we're
all
getting it.""What if we … didn't want it?" asked Stansfield. "What if we gave it back?""You're totally welcome to do so." Danny glanced at him, then at the rest of the Committee. "Every dollar that goes into our funds will be used
responsibly,
not frittered away. Infrastructure will be going into high gear. The drug relief clinics will be expanded into general taxpayer-funded medical centres. And once we've given Brockton Bay all the improvements we can—that'll be a few more billion down the track, especially with the boost in population numbers we're anticipating—we'll start expanding outward, funding improvements in the surrounding area.""A few more billion?" asked Alcott. "Where's
that
going to be coming from?"Danny grinned. "There are two more Endbringers out there, remember?"
<><>
TaylorSo, there I was.Ellisburg was currently in competition with Eagleton for the title of 'most hostile location in the USA'. I'd invaded the Goblin Kingdom, teleporting in so I could murder one of its inhabitants and grab the body, but I'd done it from Brockton Bay so I had a few minutes before I could portal out again. That was fine, too. I'd factored it into my plans.Nilbog—Jamie Rinke—was the creator of all the things that shambled, crawled and perambulated across the pseudo-medieval townscape of Ellisburg. As such, he was clairvoyantly aware of them at all times, which meant he'd known instantly when I'd shot the little snaggletooth in the brainstem.In other words, this was not a town where murder could go unnoticed.I could've gotten closer before teleporting in, but there were certain factors that limited my options. First, the PRT were watching the outside of the wall like hawks only wished they could. I couldn't have gotten within a hundred yards without being spotted, even on a moonless night. My power was good, but actual invisibility was beyond its capabilities.The reason I didn't want to be spotted by the PRT was simple: Director Piggot was due to ask me a question, and knowledge of my visit would change a few important factors. I preferred my interactions with the PRT to go unsullied by little things like awareness of everything I was up to behind the scenes. Performing magic tricks is so much easier when the audience has no idea of the very existence of an extra card, much less which sleeve it's hidden up.Already, I could hear the growls, screams, shrieks and gibberings of the various citizens of the Goblin Kingdom as their master converged them on my location. As the first one dashed up to the mouth of the alley, I pulled my shears and slashed its throat, then kicked its companion right where a piece of bone would go through its heart-analogue and then its brain-analogue. They fell at my feet; I avoided the blood-spray then headed back along the alleyway. Halfway along, there was a gap above where the two sets of eaves separated. I started climbing, knowing full-well they'd bring in sniffers to follow my scent.The next set of pursuers were almost to the alley, and I was nearly at the top of the wall, when the first teleport jump I'd programmed in activated. I only went a hundred yards, but that meant I was
outside
the converging ring of frothingly angry goblinoids. Being on top of a roof meant that the critters swarming along the streets and through the alleyways couldn't see me; while my power couldn't turn me invisible, it could certainly point me at places where I wouldn't be spotted.Still, I wasn't out of the woods quite yet. Some little distance away was a ramshackle tower, not unlike a bell-tower or the minaret attached to a mosque. Scrambling up the steps attached to the outside was a squat, misshapen creature with oversized eyes, carrying a long, twisted horn of some kind. It seemed Nilbog was awake to the concept of people invading his little kingdom and staying above street level.While I could've picked him off with the pistol, I didn't want to announce my location too early. There weren't many of the things in the streets below me, but it would only take one to register the suppressed shot. I had another reason as well: I wanted to impress Nilbog.While invading his domain and killing his subjects might have sounded like a remarkably unintuitive way to get on the Goblin King's good side, there was method in my madness. Jamie Rinke was, as Kurt may have described it, 'nutty as squirrel shit'. The only way to get him to stop trying to kill invaders long enough to listen to them was to convince him that they were as powerful and influential as he was; that is, to con him into thinking that he was speaking to an equal. Sniping a critter from hundreds of yards way, as difficult as that might be for the average person, would be seen as cowardly and unworthy of his attention. I had to prove, via multiple close-up kills, that I was as good as my reputation.Of course, at the same time, I had to avoid being swarmed from all sides by a mob of enraged monsters. Against Bastard Son's minions, I'd been dealing with people who had human reflexes and human vulnerabilities. Nilbog could create monsters that suffered from neither of those weaknesses, or at least avoid exposing them to me long enough to get close.So, my strategy was to never teleport while in a creature's sight, and kill anything that saw me—but only
after
it saw me. I wanted him to see me as a terrifying ghost, a monster to frighten the monster. Only if I could intimidate him would he listen to me, when I chose to speak to him.I started across the rooftops toward the tower, ducking behind cover when the big-eyed sentry looked in my direction. Far behind me, I could hear the frustrated howls and squalls of those who had converged on my last known position and found nothing. I knew Nilbog would be birthing scent-followers and sending them to the site, which meant my time window was narrowing even more. Once they started spreading out across the Kingdom, they would quickly pick up my scent if they passed nearby.The creature reached the top; again, I ducked behind a roofline while it scanned my general area. It turned and began surveying another part of the town, which was my cue to pop up and start sprinting. Fortunately, they didn't go for wide alleys in this town, or even wide streets; a classic rooftop-running vigilante could've gone from one side of the Goblin Kingdom to the other without setting foot to ground.There was no more cover worthy of the name, and I knew I couldn't reach it in time, but I didn't intend to. It had to see me.
Nilbog
had to see me.Finally, it turned and looked again. I didn't falter in my running, directly toward it in its perch. Evidently surprised, it nevertheless wasted no time in drawing a deep breath. Deeper than I could've drawn, in any case; its entire body inflated like a bullfrog's. I reached the side of the tower and started upward, locating handholds and footholds without so much as looking.The blast of the horn was
loud.
It blatted out over the Goblin Kingdom, a series of spaced notes telling all within earshot that 'the intruder is
here'.
Just as it drew breath for a second alarm call, I got to the top of the tower.It stared at me, evidently unprepared for something that could climb faster than it. A clawed hand swiped at me, but I knocked it aside. "I'm coming for
you," I snarled, then drew my shears and plunged them hilt-deep into the creature's oversized eyes; first one, then the other.It fell to the platform it had been standing on, twitching and quivering in the throes of death. Catching the horn before it could fall, I vaulted up into its little crow's nest, then rested the horn on the body while I cleaned the shears off and re-sheathed them. I still had a little time to go—the timer on the teleporter was still counting down—so I wiped off the mouthpiece of the horn, faced out over the Kingdom, and pulled up my morph mask.While I didn't have the lung capacity of the sentry, I could still employ some tricks to get volume and tone out of the horn. And so, for the next thirty seconds, until the teleporter beeped to let me know it had recharged, I treated the Goblin Kingdom to a free-form rendition of the
Imperial March.By then, they knew where I was
and
were well on the way. I could've played cat and mouse with them for awhile longer, but I'd made my point. As I put the horn down and pulled my mask back into place, the portal formed in front of me; I stepped through.Cherie, wearing her mask, was waiting at the bus stop, right where I'd told her to be. She looked around as I stepped out of thin air, and stared at me. "Okay," she said. "That was just rude. What did you need to do that took ten minutes? And why are you wearing a backpack in costume?"I grinned behind my mask, knowing that Cherie could easily read my emotions but not much else. "Had to collect something."She wrinkled her nose. "You suck when you're being all inscrutable. I know that you're being sneaky, but not what you're being sneaky about. It's very irritating.""Thank you." I took out my phone and sent a text. Amy would be just about getting home by now; timing was everything. Then I gestured down the street. "Shall we walk? We have a little time to kill."She snorted at that. "The great Atropos, reduced to killing time.""Hey, when I kill it, it stays killed.""You do realise, that also goes for everyone else, right?""True, but the next Endbringer would've used time manipulation to fuck everyone over. I stopped it from showing up, so you think anyone can beat that for killing time?"Cherie didn't speak for a few moments. When she did, she picked her words carefully. "Every now and again, I forget just how terrifying your power really is. And then you go ahead and say something like that, and I know you're being totally serious."I glanced over at her. "I'm not meaning to scare you, just so you know. But it is what it is.""I know you're not. But I didn't even consider that there might've been more Endbringers on the way. Do I want to know how many? Was there even going to be a limit, or just an infinite conga line of destruction and mayhem?""Twenty, in total," I said, knowing there was no real way to soften that blow. "But they're all neutralised now. And if anyone ever figures out a way to un-neutralise them, I
will
be introducing him to the sharpest part of my shears. That shit should stay dead.""Good." She shuddered. "I still can't believe how we considered it was just …
normal …
to exist with monsters like that hanging over our heads."I shrugged. "There are some people who wanted the Endbringers to kill us all. Others that wanted the Endbringers to kill
everyone else,
so they could be the last people on Earth Bet. But most people are thrilled right now. They'll be having nightmares for
years
to come about how the Endbringers are back, then waking up to find it's not true, but I can't really do anything about that.""Just between you and me," Cherie confided, "I've had a few dreams like that about my father not being dead, and dragging me back to Canada. The sheer goddamn relief when I woke up and remembered that he
was
actually dead got me every time.""Mm," I agreed, and put my hand on her arm. "I'm happy you're away from him. Without his influence, you're a much better person than he ever was." I stopped walking. "Okay, enough time's been killed. Let's go make a difference."Cherie grinned. "Right with you."
<><>
CherishAbandoned City MorgueThe robed figures standing around in the dusty building could have been praying in Latin, but Cherie could tell that they were actually conversing in low tones, sounding a little worried; this was helped by her power filling in their emotional state. When she looked more closely from the doorway, she realised that the robes were of many different cuts and fashions, and some appeared to have been hastily dyed."And what, exactly, is going on here?" Atropos' voice cut across the chatter like a shark slicing through a school of minnows. All eyes turned to her as she strode across the room, long-coat flaring behind her."Dark Mistress, you have come!" gasped the first of the robed teenagers—shit, they
were
all teens, weren't they?—to react. "Forgive us, we do not know what to do." She dropped to her knees, then bowed low. From her, Cherie saw a mix of terror and relief. This was someone who was
far
out of her depth, but had no idea how to even start fixing matters."So I see." Atropos stopped by one of the morgue drawers and pulled it out with a single long rumble. Within, Cherie saw, was another teenager, this one a redhead; that had to be Emma. There was also a distinct lack of clothing. Considering how chilly metal could get, that had to be
damn
uncomfortable.She was at the wrong angle to see Emma's eyes open, but relief flared all the same. "You came," the girl gasped. "I feared I was unworthy.""Oh, get up," Atropos said irritably. "And the rest of you, stop kneeling and bowing to me. I don't do that shit. Emma, put your damn clothes back on. Somebody get her something to eat and drink." Belying the harsh tone of her voice, she helped Emma down from the drawer, and steadied her when she stumbled."I put myself into darkness, to burn out my unworthiness—" Emma began uncertainly."I know exactly why you did what you did." Atropos didn't sound angry anymore, but she wasn't happy either. "I get it; you're lost, and you think I'm your way forward. If you're gonna do this, there's gonna be a few rules in place, and I
will
enforce them."One of the teens brought a bottle of water and what looked like a banana, and Emma carefully ate and drank after putting on a robe that another gave her. "Guide us, Dark Mistress," she said, once she had finished the bottle. "Show us the way.""I guess I can't stop you from calling me Dark Mistress, but none of that bowing shit." Atropos took out her shears and started spinning them on her finger, the dim light flickering off the metal. "You can lose the robes, too.
I
wear black; you can wear street clothing. Now, the rules. First, no killing. That's my job. Even if you really think they deserve it. If it's that bad, contact me. I'll deal with it. Second, don't just do good stuff to make
you
feel good. That's just charity theatre. Do good that actually fixes problems. Solve more problems than you cause. Third, don't ever say you're doing something in my name. Only I'm allowed to do that. Dilute my brand, and I
will
get annoyed. Think you can remember that?"Emma nodded reverently. Cherie could tell it wasn't an act; the girl was almost worshipful toward Atropos. Which was really weird, considering what she knew of Emma's shared history with Taylor."Yes, Dark Mistress," Emma responded. "Tell me; what is my name to be, now that I have passed through my trial of darkness and fear?"Atropos seemed to growl at the back of her throat, but it was more exasperation than anger. "Fine," she said eventually. "If you want a name, you can call yourself
Emma the Twice-Warned.""Thank you, Dark Mistress." Emma clasped Atropos' hand in both of hers. "Thank you.""Whatever," Atropos grumped. "Just don't cause any problems that would make me yell at you." She flicked her hand free of Emma's, and strode toward the door. Once she got there, she turned back. "And no preaching in my name! Got it?""We understand, Dark Mistress," Emma replied. "What do we do if we encounter others who pretend to follow your teachings?""If they're a problem, I'll deal with them. If they're not, share your rules with them and keep on … doing what you do." Atropos shook her head slightly, disbelief radiating off her, and headed out through the doorway.Cherie fell into step with her as they left the old building. "So, how's it feel to accidentally build a cult? And wasn't Emma one of the ones who was piss-scared of you just a while ago?""Yeah," Atropos muttered. "At one time, she was my best friend. Then my worst enemy. Now, my high priestess. One of these days, the world is going to start making sense.""You're
hopeful." Cherie chuckled. "Besides, I think it's kinda funny."Atropos blew a raspberry.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
Relevant Side StoryPanacea"Why are we coming back here again?" asked Vicky, as they came in for a landing at Westlake Park. "Doesn't Atropos have some
other
place you could meet?""Yeah, she does," Amy agreed, recalling the rendezvous where she'd shown her mushroom baby to the dark-clad cape. "But I think she prefers this one."
Maybe as a reminder to you that attacking her is a bad idea,
she carefully didn't say. Though from the way Vicky's eyes flicked to the remains of the picnic table and away again, she probably didn't have to."Okay, so why
are
we here?" Vicky let Amy down onto her feet and looked around. "And where
is
she, anyway? I had stuff I wanted to do.""What, like ghosting Dean?" snarked Atropos from behind them both.Amy had been prepared for something like that, but Vicky clearly had not. "Fuck!" she squawked, shooting two feet into the air and spinning around to glare at Atropos and her companion. "Don't
sneak up
on me like that!""I didn't sneak up." Atropos was the very picture of innocence, even going so far as to place her spread fingers on her chest. "Did we sneak up?" she asked the girl beside her. Amy didn't know who she was; street clothing, dark hair with a red streak, and a pink cloth mask didn't give many clues away."Pfft, no." The other girl seemed to be enjoying herself immensely. "Maybe Glory Girl needs to spend less time talking and more time listening.""That's not funny," grumped Vicky. "Anyway, who are
you?""You can call me Cherish," the girl said promptly. "Reformed supervillain, and minion to Atropos. Pleased to meet you." She stuck out her hand."Oh." Vicky blinked. "Same … I guess?" Tentatively, she shook Cherish's hand. "Where
do
I know that name from?""My father was Heartbreaker," Cherish explained cheerfully. "Atropos broke his hold over me, then murdered him gruesomely in front of me. Life's been
amazing
ever since."Amy restrained herself from rolling her eyes, though she also had to work to keep from grinning at the look of bogglement on her sister's face. "Okay, enough messing with Vicky's worldview. You were pretty damn cryptic when you messaged me. What's this about?"Atropos swung the pack off her back, then unzipped it and hefted out a garbage bin liner bag holding something small but bulky. "Nilbog," she confided, opening the bag to let out an odour that had Vicky backing up and gagging, and Cherish looking a little green herself. Inside the bag was a misshapen creature that had certainly seen better days, if the state of the back of its skull was any indication. "This is one of his creatures. They've all got the same basic genetic code as he does. I need you to make me two different diseases, designed to attack his gene code and
only
his gene code."Nilbog. The Goblin King.
Everything became a whole lot clearer to Amy. "Ah. I can … I can do that. But why two diseases? Why not just one?""Because
presentation." As Atropos went on to explain, Amy found herself nodding along. As much as she wanted to dislike Atropos, the girl always came up with
interesting
concepts.
<><>
The Household of Gerald O'DwyerBrockton Bay"Gerry! Phone for you!"With a grunt, Gerry heaved himself up from his armchair. Patched and decrepit it may be, with stuffing leaking out in places, it was still comfortable. "Thanks, love," he said to Maria as she passed the handset over. Putting the phone to his ear, he leaned against the back of his chair. "You've got Gerry.""Good afternoon, Mr O'Dwyer. I represent the Brockton Bay Betterment Committee, and your name is on a list of Dockworkers' Association members provided to me by Danny Hebert. Would you be interested in an ongoing work contract? The pay rate starts at twenty-two fifty per hour, and goes up from there. Paid vacations, automatic healthcare insurance, and sick leave included. And union rules throughout, of course."Gerry blinked. "I … what would you be having me doing? It sounds too good to be true, so it does."The household budget had been in a long, slow spiral since the last work Hebert had been able to get for him; they'd cut costs where they could, but it was ever a matter of robbing Peter to pay Paul. The first stimulus payment had bailed them out of a nasty hole where the landlord had been getting more and more pushy about back rent, and he'd heard there was a second one on the way. However, a stimulus was not a pay-packet."Infrastructure work. If you've got heavy machinery tickets, that'll mean a pay rise. If you're willing to work nights, that will too. And there will be training courses for getting qualified in other machinery, if you're interested."Every word rang in Gerry's ears like a silver bell in the hands of an angel. "Where do I sign?""Present yourself at the Brockton Bay Betterment Committee offices tomorrow, at two PM. The relevant paperwork will be ready for you to peruse and sign. Good day to you, Mr O'Dwyer."
The call ended.Gerry stared at the phone, then slowly put it back on the cradle. "Well, I'll be eternally damned, with hellfire and pitchforks.""What? Who was it?" His wife stood anxiously in the kitchen door. "Was it one of those gangs?" He'd once considered the idea of joining a villain gang as a minion, just to bring some money in to tide them over, but she'd talked him out of it. "I thought they weren't around anymore.""No, love, it wasn't them." Grabbing her, he spun her around, then kissed her on the forehead. "I'm getting work from the Betterment Committee! Good, honest, well-paying work! At least twenty-two an hour!""Oh, my. My goodness." She gasped, her hand going to her mouth. "It's a miracle.""That it is, love. That it is."
<><>
A Little LaterDirector Piggot's OfficeEmily laced her fingers together and leaned forward. "Captain Reeves, what else did Atropos say about the possibility of a sit-down meeting with her?"Reeves frowned in recollection. "As I recall, ma'am, she said that we
would
get together for a meeting, and that we're more or less on the same page anyway.""So, is now a good time?" asked Atropos, stepping out from behind Reeves."Jesus!" Reeves lunged away from her, his hand going for his sidearm, then arresting the motion just as quickly. "Please, don't do that to me. I don't need any more grey hairs."Emily, on the other hand, managed to control her reaction to a twitch of her fingers. "Yes, we get it," she said acidly. "You can show up anywhere, with impeccable timing. Can we dispense with the theatrics now?"Atropos inclined her head respectfully. "Absolutely. Nice to meet you, by the way. When I said I was a big fan of your work, I wasn't being facetious." She pulled a chair toward herself and sat down, crossing one leg over the other. "So, what did you want to talk about?"Taking up the papers on her desk, Emily made a show of straightening them to gain a few extra seconds to think. She'd encountered many other dangerous capes during her career, but only one with a death toll that exceeded Atropos', especially in such a short time. And
none
who had killed such dark luminaries as Jack Slash, the Butcher, or
the motherfucking goddamn Simurgh.With every other cape she knew, the knowledge that they were so lethal all too often translated into a certain amount of attitude, if not outright arrogance.
I could kill everyone in the room before you could blink.
Not many of them actually
said
it, but she knew they were thinking it.But not Atropos. There she was, large as life and (as far as Emily could tell) the genuine article, and there was none of that from her. This wasn't to say she
couldn't
project menace—the footage of the way she'd dismantled the Slaughterhouse Nine always raised the hairs on the back of Emily's neck—but here and now, she was deliberately choosing to be unthreatening.We damn sure couldn't force her to sit in that chair if she didn't want to be there.
That was the absolute, unalloyed truth. Emily had no doubt about it.But she was there now. Emily took a deep breath. "I'd like to talk about acquiring your services. Like Mouse Protector did.""I'm listening." Atropos reached out and clasped her hands around her knee. "Who do you want Ended, and what are you proposing to pay?"Deep in the back of her mind, Emily got the impression that she was reading lines that had been prepared for her, but she pushed forward anyway. It wasn't the weirdest feeling she'd gotten from being near a cape, not by a long shot. "I want Nilbog dead, and I'm willing to offer ten percent of the budget we would've put toward keeping Ellisburg secure for the next ten years. Just as you arranged for the other two Endbringers."
The 'other two' Endbringers. Jesus Christ.
It was almost possible to forget that she was sitting in the same room as the person who had almost casually disposed of the Simurgh … until it wasn't.Atropos nodded thoughtfully. "Sure, I can do that. But I'll be doing it
my
way.""Your way?" asked Reeves. "What does that mean?"Emily honestly couldn't have cared less how Atropos did it, so long as that motherfucker ended up as dead as Jack Slash, the Butcher and the Simurgh.
Wear a pink tutu and dance him to death; I don't give a fuck."Same as Coil, Kaiser, Lung and Skidmark," Atropos said. "I'll go into Ellisburg and give him a warning face-to-face that he's got twenty-four hours to surrender to the PRT, or I come back and kill him."Emily blinked. "You're actually going to give that monster a chance to surrender?"Atropos shrugged. "He's theoretically capable of listening to reason, so yes. Once he's out of there—I
will
specify no tricks and no booby-traps—you can lock him away in supermax, and feed his creations over the wall until they all die of old age, in about ten years' time. Also, if he surrenders, you don't have to pay me.""Do you honestly
think
he's likely to surrender?" asked Reeves."Honestly? The reality he's living in only touches on ours here and there," Atropos said. "He
might, but I sure as hell wouldn't bet on it." She turned toward Emily. "So, do we have a deal?"Emily tried hard not to frown, in case Atropos took offence. She
wanted
the girl just to march on in and gun down Nilbog with no quarter given, but the world was good at not giving her what she wanted. Still, between the options of Nilbog surrendered into custody and Nilbog dead, they were both a hell of a lot better than leaving him in Ellisburg to hatch his plans.Also, as Atropos had stated, he was exceedingly unlikely to surrender, so there was that."Very well," Emily stated. "It's a deal.""Awesome." Atropos nodded, and Emily again got the impression that some obscure script had been followed through to its inevitable conclusion. "Was there anything else?""Yes." Emily had told herself she would ask this question. "The other Endbringers. When are you going to be killing them?""Oh, I've already dealt with them." Atropos glanced from Emily to Reeves and back to Emily. "Their threat is Ended. To borrow a classic cliché, which probably never got used in real life, Leviathan sleeps with the fishes, and Behemoth is taking a dirt nap." She let go her knee and dusted her hands off theatrically. "You can ask Dragon if you want."Reeves blinked. "Uh … just like that? That was it? They're done?" The bewilderment in his voice would've made Emily smile if she herself hadn't been feeling so unbalanced.Atropos had faced off against the Simurgh and had contrived to kill her in a way both theatrical and understated. The world had marvelled;
Emily
had actually smiled. At home, in the privacy of her bedroom, but she'd smiled. But to kill the other two and then make such a casual deal of it …… well, that really was Atropos all over, wasn't it? She didn't seek glory, and in any case, how much more could people celebrate her for killing the other two visibly and openly? Her entire oft-stated goal was to make Brockton Bay a safe, prosperous city to live in, and she'd done exactly that.A small part of Emily's mind boggled at exactly
how many
people had had to die in order to make that vision a reality. Another, larger, part was much more cynical about it.
There were a lot of assholes standing between us and having nice things.Atropos chuckled. "Well, if you could get to where they were, I guess you could check for a pulse. But the proof of the pudding, as they say. The next attack is due mid-May. If nothing's happened by the end of June, would you consider that good enough, Director?"Emily got the impression that Atropos was bending over backward to be nice. If she insisted that the Endbringers were dead and that Emily and Reeves had to take her word for it, there wouldn't be much they could do to protest. As it was, the timing had been gradually creeping up, so missing an attack by a month and a half would definitely signify that something hugely drastic had happened to them.And, of course, that 'something hugely drastic' was currently sitting in her office.Slowly, Emily nodded. "I personally do not doubt you, but we'll do it that way. If there hasn't been an Endbringer attack by twenty-three fifty-nine on June thirtieth, it'll be official. We'll announce the deaths of Leviathan and Behemoth then."Atropos chuckled. "There are gonna be
so
many people with hangovers on July the second."Emily didn't doubt her for an instant. The party for the demise of the Simurgh had been impressive enough, in the same way that an earthquake or a tsunami was impressive. For something so dramatic … they'd earned it.
I might even get my kidneys healed, just so I can get shitfaced with the rest of the guys."So, is it true you're getting Australia's version of the Medal of Honor, too?" asked Reeves, apparently starting to relax now that the serious questions were over. Atropos was
absolutely
getting the Medal of Honor. There wasn't even a question about it.Atropos nodded. "Yeah. They call it 'Companion of the Order of Australia'. The United Kingdom is giving me a Victoria Cross. Some people were saying I shouldn't get it because I'm not a soldier, but then everyone else told them very politely to shut the hell up, because I
killed the bloody Simurgh." For the last four words, she affected a crisp British accent, drawing a startled bark of laughter out of Reeves. "Anyway, all this stuff is coming to the Betterment Committee, probably because they figure the Committee knows how to get in touch with me. Which they do."Emily tilted her head. "Are there any other villains on the way here?""Yup." Atropos didn't hesitate with her confirmation. "A few idiots, and some not so much idiots. But it's okay. I got this." She raised her hand. "Good talk. We should do it more often. Toodles." With a snap of the fingers, she just … vanished.Emily did nothing for a good fifteen seconds; at one point, she glanced behind herself, then relaxed fractionally when she found nobody there. "I think she's gone," she said at last.Reeves drew a deep breath. "It
was
slightly less nerve-wracking to talk to her before she killed the Endbringers," he admitted.Emily snorted.
Ya think?
"What's your read on what she said? Do you think there's any chance she's pulling some elaborate prank on us?" That Atropos might just be lying to aggrandise herself in their eyes was not something she even bothered considering. Killing the Simurgh on live footage was a
spectacular
way of establishing her bona fides, vis-à-vis the ability to kill Endbringers."No." Reeves shook his head. "There's no point, and there's no payoff I can think of. Besides, she opted to give us all that time to make sure of it ourselves. If there's anyone's word I will
absolutely
take about whether or not they killed someone, it's Atropos.""True. She might be irritatingly playful in some ways, but I don't believe that's one of the ways. If Atropos says that she Ended something or someone, they are
Ended." Emily nodded to Reeves. "Thank you for your time. Dismissed.""Ma'am." He turned and went to the door. Opening it, he stepped through and closed it behind himself.Emily sat watching the door, thinking.
She said there were more on the way, but that she had it under control. Idiots and not so much idiots. The 'idiots' are probably the Fallen, but who are the others?She sighed. It would become clear in time, or it wouldn't. Such was the life of the regional Director of the PRT ENE.All she knew for a fact was that if they came to Brockton Bay uninvited and refused to surrender to the PRT or leave … they would die.That was just how things went these days.
<><>
In a Motorhome, West of BostonSundancer"Oh. Ohh,
man." Krouse rubbed his forehead, then winced. "Luke, did you slip hash brownies into my food again? My head feels
weird.""Nope." Luke shook his head. "We were just driving along last night, and all of a sudden you and Cody and Noelle started babbling about how you could hear colours and taste sounds or some bullshit like that, so I got you out from behind the wheel and we pulled over. You've only just come out of it.""What, nobody else got hit by whatever it was?" asked Krouse. "That's bullshit.""No, no, we all felt something," Marissa hastened to say, anxious to calm him down. He could be a total epic
troll
if he felt he was being disrespected. "But I just felt a bit woozy then afterwards I took a walk, and everything was good. Better than good, actually. Like I'm seeing properly for the first time in forever."Krouse blinked and rubbed his eyes. "Well, I'll be damned," he breathed. "You're right. It
is
like I'm seeing straight for the first time when before I didn't know which way was up.""Well, that's not exactly uncommon for you," snarked Cody, showing up in the doorway. Marissa could
see
Krouse gathering spite for a comeback——then Cody shook his head. "Sorry, sorry. That was a reflex. I've got about a million of those stored up in my head to use on you, and now I have no idea why. I mean, we're all in this together, right?"Krouse blinked. Luke blinked. Marissa blinked."What … the fuck?" That was Luke. "Cody, when you went under, you didn't hit your head, did you?""I don't …
think
… so?" Cody rubbed his hand over his head. "No sore spots, no lumps." He turned back to Krouse. "We've had our differences in the past, but truce until we figure this out?"Krouse nodded slowly. "Yeah. That's a good idea. And while we're doing a confessional, I just want to say that I've been a totally shit leader, this last year. I made
sooo
many bad decisions."Luke raised his eyebrows. "Who are you, and what've you done with Krouse?" Marissa could tell he was only half joking. The confession was a little startling to her as well."I'm still me, but like Mars said, I can see a lot better now." Krouse took a deep breath. "I think we should go to Brockton Bay.""No!" shouted Marissa, Luke and Cody at once. Jess, farther back in the motorhome, added her negatory to the chorus.Noelle, down at the back of the motorhome, called out, "What?""Krouse still thinks we should go to Brockton Bay!" Cody called back over his shoulder."Tell him no!" she replied, loudly enough for Marissa to hear."We are
not
kidnapping Great and Terrible Aisha to force Atropos to take Noelle's power away," Marissa told him sternly."Or holding the Mayor for ransom," Luke added."Or any of your
other
stupid fucking plans that involve kidnapping people inside the city belonging to the girl who
ganked Jack Slash
and expecting her not to kill us," Cody concluded. "Sorry, man. But those plans were fucking moronic.""Yeah, I know." Krouse rubbed his hand over his eyes. "I know. I got it. Those were phenomenally idiotic plans. But I've got one that might actually work out." He beamed at them cheerfully.Luke and Cody stared back, deadpan. Marissa wondered if she should say something."Just ask him and get it over with!" yelled Jess.Cody huffed. "Okay, fine. What's your brilliant plan,
genius?""Yeah, okay, I deserved that," Krouse allowed. "My plan is, we pull up just short of the city limits, then we call ahead and get into contact with Atropos, and we ask very politely if we can come in, or if she can come meet us, whichever works for her, and then we offer to pool all our money—except for basic expenses, yeah?—and donate it all to the Betterment Committee. You know, the one that's been handling the bounty for Jack Slash. And in return, she kills Noelle's power."Luke and Cody stared at each other, then at Marissa. Then they all stared at Krouse.Jess came into view, wheeling her way down the narrow corridor. "Okay," she said, "who are you, and what've you done with our idiot leader?""I want to know that too." Cody spread his hands. "That was actually kind of brilliant. And I'm not even being sarcastic.""It's a good plan," Marissa said. "I mean, a really good plan.""You mean, a
great
plan." Luke clapped Krouse on the shoulder. "I love it.""What?" called Noelle from the far end of the motorhome. "I can't hear what you're saying!""We're going to Brockton Bay!" Marissa called back as Krouse slipped back into the driver's seat and started the engine."What? I could've sworn you said we're going to Brockton Bay!""We are!" Jess yelled. "Krouse had a great plan!""When did that happen?""Damned if I know, but it happened!"
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
Afternoon of February 24TaylorI raised my hand. "Good talk," I said to Director Piggot and Reave. "We should do it more often. Toodles." Timing it perfectly, I snapped my fingers; the teleport kicked in, and I went to an unoccupied section of alleyway near the PRT building. I flipped open the panel, typed in coordinates, then hit the go button. The shadowy doorway opened in front of me, and I stepped through into my bedroom at home.The clothing I'd been wearing was already laid out on the bed, so I changed out what I couldn't hide under my normal outerwear, tugged my sneakers onto my feet, and set up the next teleport. That allowed me to step into the closed bathroom stall at the Weymouth Mall that I'd come from in the first place; I opened the door and walked out. Cherie was waiting for me, of course. I nodded to her, and she nodded back.
Meeting accomplished.Ten seconds later, as I was washing my hands, two girls came into the bathrooms. They spotted me and their chatter just dried up; edging around me and Cherie like we were radioactive, they bolted into their respective stalls and locked the doors. Cherie was grinning broadly as we left, and I was shaking my head."Could've been worse," she confided with a giggle. "They could've been members of the cult."She had a point. Members of the cult tended to gaze with awe, which drew way too much attention to me. These girls, clearly members of the 'don't tell anyone, but Taylor Hebert is Atropos'
in-group from Winslow, were treating me with everything from extreme respect to abject terror, proportional to how clearly they remembered their bullying efforts against me. The latter of which stayed the hell away from me, especially since I'd ganked Smurfette.The bidding for the right to display The Power of Friendship for the public had gone stratospheric. Australia had gotten it first, then it was going to Switzerland, then I was pretty sure it was going to do a tour of most large US cities before going overseas again. If there was anyone in the world with access to the internet who
hadn't
seen the footage, I had no idea who or where they were."I still think it's a ridiculous fucking idea," I grumped. "Why couldn't Emma just live with me being me? I wouldn't have spared her a second thought if she didn't mess with me anymore.""I notice you haven't Ended her or the cult yourself," she suggested impishly. "I don't believe for a second that you can't.""She doesn't deserve it, and it would be too damn tedious to knock out the whole cult. Also, if I End this one, another one will spring up with some other idiot as its head. It's actually easier to let the cult do their bit to improve the Bay." Plus, my power seemed to be greatly amused by the whole situation. I personally considered its sense of humour somewhat less refined than mine. "It's just weird to me that
she's
the one doing it.""I think I've explained this one to you before." Cherie adopted a professorial tone. "Emma's personality is only outwardly strong. Inside, she's kinda fragile. She needs validation, and she needs someone to lean on. That was you, for the longest time. But then you had your troubles, and she was having to be the rock, and she didn't enjoy that. So, when Sophia came along and did her thing, Emma jumped ship. But nobody likes to feel that they're in the wrong, so she translated the guilt from abandoning you into disdain and all that bullying shit happened, because people are assholes. And then you killed Sophia and became the strongest thing around again. She had no idea what to do then, but when you killed the Simurgh, that sent her into a
leetle
bit of a mental break." She held her fingers a fraction of an inch apart. "This cult thing is all about punishing herself and making you see that she's worthy to lean on you again. And in the meantime, the cult is there to validate her views.""Because to her, that makes sense," I said to show I was paying attention."Exactly." She beamed at me. "I knew you'd understand.""Not even a little bit." I shook my head. "No, don't try to explain it again. So long as they don't cause problems, I'm just going to toss it onto the 'don't give a shit' pile.""I've noticed that's a very big pile, with you." She smirked at my expression. "So, any more excitement today?""Just this afternoon." I rolled my eyes. "It seems that events have conspired to make it so I need to be in two places at once, this afternoon. Edge of town, and in the Dockworkers' offices. Someone needs to be encouraged, and someone else needs to be discouraged."She immediately looked interested. "Need a hand?" This whole 'heroic use of my powers' thing really seemed to be growing on her.I considered it, then my power suggested another option. The more I looked that option over, the more I liked it. It would absolutely make things smoother, going forward. I'd just have to make a phone call first, to see if it was okay. (I knew it
would
be, but sometimes the gesture had to be made anyway)."Thanks for the offer, but you're already doing a great job keeping an eye on the medical clinics for me." I gave her a smile. "That's already taking a load off my shoulders. I can handle the rest.""Oh, cool." She looked pleased with herself, which had been my whole aim. "So, what about the others? The Fallen?""They're on the way." I had
plans
for them.Cherie picked up on my mood, of course, and grinned. "They have no idea what they're walking into, do they?"I snorted. "Have
any
of these idiots so far? Hold on, I just have to make a call.""Sure, no worries." She wandered off and started window-shopping as I pulled out my phone.
<><>
Danny Hebert, Dockworkers' AssociationIt was official. Every last member of the Dockworkers who had the appropriate machinery tickets was either gainfully employed by the Betterment Committee, or had verbally accepted said employment and was due to sign the paperwork by Saturday. Those who didn't have tickets were already enrolled in the appropriate training courses so that (once completed) they could also take part in the largest city upgrade project Brockton Bay had ever seen.Every last street in Brockton Bay was to be torn up; not all at once, but in due time. The infrastructure beneath any given section would be upgraded in one fell swoop: sewage lines, telecommunications, water supply, electricity, the lot. Then the dirt would be filled in and a new road surface would be laid, all within twelve to twenty-four hours (depending on the stretch of road, of course). The plan for doing so without disrupting Brockton Bay's operations was as intricate as he'd ever seen, but it made
sense.Once they had enough workers on the books and correctly ticketed, the excess would be branched off into other projects, such as rebuilding and renovating the housing that was going to be needed for all the people who were going to be coming into Brockton Bay. Some would be more of the construction workers who were needed for the upgrade, some would be people just wanting to move to the only villain-free city in the US, and some of course would end up being both.Every other time he'd tried working out the numbers required for a project this ambitious, they'd defeated him; they were just too large. But now, he could look over the plans and know that the funding line merely had one word:
Yes.It was a truly heady feeling.The phone on the desk rang, and he took it up. "Dockworkers' Association; you have Danny Hebert.""Hi, Dad." It was Taylor, sounding as cheerful as ever. "Got a moment? I need to ask you about something.""I'm listening." He didn't get the impression this was about a problem, but he'd been wrong before."Okay, then. In a few hours, you're going to be getting a couple of visitors who really should know better. Not capes: just people who think that because they've been manipulating matters for their own profit for years now, they should be allowed to keep doing it. I'm going to be busy elsewhere, so I'm wondering if you'd be okay if I arranged for a little upgrade to let you handle the problem yourself.""A little … upgrade?" He was used to being the adult in the room, but since Taylor had become Atropos, she'd been striking out in directions he hadn't even known existed. That she was the mastermind behind the Betterment Committee, he already knew; that, and the fact that she was the one who'd decided he was going to be running it. He knew damn well she didn't expect any sort of kickback from this pseudo-nepotism, just that she had more trust in him to do it properly than anyone else.But now, this question threw him totally off balance. He had no idea what she meant by the phrase, but he was also certain she was deadly serious about it."Yeah. There's a power that was hanging around, waiting to latch onto me, but my actual power got there first. This other power was originally going to you anyway, so my power can …
encourage
it to make that connection, if you were okay with it." Her tone was utterly blasé, as though suggesting that they use a different brand of tomato paste for the lasagna.I was going to get a power?
That bit of information on its own nearly threw him for a loop. The rational side of his brain wanted to reject the whole concept, but then he recalled watching the footage as she shot the Simurgh down, then told Leviathan to fuck off, and he told rationality to go take a hike. This was real, and Taylor needed his input."What kind of a power are we talking about? And isn't getting powers supposed to be really traumatic?" He remembered chatting with Cherie about her home life, and how her father had forced his kids to trigger. After that, he'd been really,
really
pleased Heartbreaker was already dead. Because if he hadn't been, Danny would've had to go see a man about a crowbar."It's only traumatic because normally powers wait until you really need them to make the connection. This time around, it'll be different. And the power is called …"
She paused, as though checking on something.
"Administration."He blinked. For some reason, he'd been expecting something a lot more dramatic. "And I was supposed to get it to begin with?""It was one of the options, yeah. So, are you okay with getting powers to sort out this problem?""Before I say yes, what will this power actually let me do?" He was already half-convinced, but he needed to know all the facts first."There's multitasking and control involved, but the actual details can be worked out between you and it. And yes, you will have a choice in the matter."He took a deep breath and made a leap of faith. Since she'd gotten her powers, Taylor had been by turns (and sometimes all at once) enigmatic, ruthless, terrifying and impressive as
hell. But ever since she'd let him in on her secret, she'd never told him a direct untruth.
If she thinks I need this …
"Okay, I'll do it. But if I decide I don't want them, then you'll take them away again, right?""Oh, totally. I'd never force something like this on you.""That's good to hear." He noticed she'd said nothing about never talking him into something. What with how persuasive she could be, it damn near came to the same thing sometimes. Still, he clung to the shred of personal agency this promised him. "So, when's it going to happen?""You'll know." Her tone was confident. "Thanks, Dad. Love you.""Love you too, hon." A second or so later, the line went dead.Slowly, he hung up the phone, then leaned back in his chair.
Okay, so now I'm getting powers. Because my daughter said so.He had no doubt in his mind that she'd do what she said. He just had no idea how she was going to pull it off.I am so glad she's on our side.
<><>
OliverThe motorhome was on the move when Oliver awoke. Stretching and yawning, he climbed out of the narrow bed and stood up, bracing himself against the gentle swaying. Nobody was using the tiny washroom, which was good; he relieved himself, washed his hands, then went back to see if Noelle needed anything."Oh, hi, Oliver." She smiled as she looked up from her book. "Just woke up?""Yeah." He scratched his head, disarranging his hair even more. "What time is it? I must've been totally wiped after that all-nighter I pulled, watching you guys." He already knew it was daytime, but that didn't tell him much.She frowned. "I'm pretty sure it's after two. We're heading for Brockton Bay. Should be there in another couple of hours.""What?" Alarm shot down his spine. "Is this Francis' idea? Because you know how he gets."Trickster's voice came from behind him. "Hey, Oliver. Good to see you're up. Yeah, it's my idea."Oliver turned and stared at him. "Francis …
no.
We
talked
about this. Taking someone hostage who Atropos cares about is the best possible way of being shot in the head, not helping Noelle.""I know," Trickster said. "That's why we're not taking anyone hostage. We're going to stop at the edge of town and politely ask her if we can talk. Then we're going to donate all our spare cash to that Betterment Committee that's been handling the money from taking down the Nine, and ask her pretty please to kill Noelle's power."Already opening his mouth to protest Trickster's latest harebrained idea, Oliver found his jaw hanging open. "But … but that's … actually a workable plan.""I know, right?" Noelle chuckled. "It's like we're all thinking straight, all of a sudden."Trickster snorted with amusement, rolling his eyes. "You don't have to act all
that
surprised, sweetheart."Noelle grinned back at him. "Who said it was an act?""Um …" Oliver blinked as they both turned to look at him. "Has anyone actually contacted her yet?""Oh, we were going to wait until we got a bit closer." Trickster took a deep breath. "Besides, we wanted everyone's input on how the message was going to go. 'Abject grovelling' was the tone we're looking to hit."Oliver frowned. "Are you okay? Because this doesn't sound like you at all.""Ugggh." Trickster groaned, running his hands over his face and through his hair. "I've been getting this ever since I came up with the idea. Have I really been that bad?"Even as Oliver tried to think of a diplomatic way to answer in the affirmative, Noelle nodded. "I'm afraid so, love. But Cody isn't being a dick to you, which is also a minor miracle, so it's been a very weird day all round."It absolutely sounded like that was the case. Perdition was constantly sniping at Trickster for everything he got wrong, and even for things that weren't his fault. Oliver began to wonder if he'd woken up in the right universe.After a moment of thought, he pulled out his phone and went looking for Atropos' PHO feed, to try to gauge her mood from her latest post. She usually came across as chirpy and outgoing, which was a bizarre mental image when her impressive body count was taken into consideration. If that had changed of late, they might have to reconsider the plan.He found it and started reading. When he hit the Simurgh's name, his vision stuttered and he had to pause.
Oh, shit. She went up against the Simurgh. That can't be good.Taking a deep breath and bracing himself against bad news, he kept reading.
<><>
SundancerBallistic was driving the motorhome, with Marissa in the passenger seat, her feet up on the dash. She'd given up trying to get the radio to work, so they were listening to one of the cassettes they'd found in the glove compartment. And then, over the sound of Johnny Cash lamenting how he'd shot a man in Reno, came a thoroughly unexpected interruption."WHAT THE FUCK?"Jolted out of a doze by Oliver's disbelieving yell, Marissa tried to sit bolt upright, and nearly launched herself clear off the seat. Even Ballistic, who'd been awake and aware, nearly performed an unprompted lane change before he pulled the wheels straight again."Oliver!" That was Genesis. "Can you
not
do that when I'm trying to sleep?""Yeah, man." Perdition also sounded aggravated. "I love you like a brother, but we've all lost sleep, here.""Why didn't anyone tell me?" demanded Oliver, charging forward into the front of the motorhome, holding his phone like it was a holy icon. "You could've woken me up! I wouldn't have minded!"Marissa finally got herself sorted out, and her butt back onto the seat. "What the hell are you talking about?" she asked irritably. "Woken you about what? The plan to go to Brockton Bay?""No, no!" Oliver babbled excitedly. "The other thing! About the Simurgh!"Ice-cold water cascaded down Marissa's spine. She could see in her peripheral vision how Ballistic's knuckles were suddenly white on the wheel. "What
about
the Simurgh?" she asked carefully. Absolutely
nothing
about that bitch could be construed as good news."She's dead! Atropos killed her last night!"Ballistic jammed on the brakes, causing the motorhome to fishtail wildly onto the verge, leaving four long smoking trails of rubber in its wake as the skidding tyres howled like banshees. Marissa found herself thrown against the dashboard, and Oliver had to brace himself against the backs of the seats. Loose items clattered to the floor.As the motorhome rocked to a halt, silence fell over the interior—the engine had stalled—until all that could be heard was the ticking of the engine as it cooled. Then Ballistic turned to Oliver. "The
fuck
did you just say?""I want to hear that too." Trickster came hurrying forward. "Because it
sounded
like—""Atropos killed the Simurgh in Australia. Last night." Oliver held out his phone. "Someone linked a video."Ballistic grabbed it off him and held it so they could all watch it. Climbing out of the footwell where she'd fallen—they
really
needed to clean down there—Marissa joined the group watching. It was Atropos alright, and some teenage cape Marissa had never met before. Atropos was holding her shears in one hand, and a sawn-off shotgun in the other.The phone speakers were tinny, but they carried the sound well enough."It's duck season!"Marissa stared incredulously as the skit played out, the shotgun boomed, and the Simurgh pinwheeled out of the clouds. The Endbringer bounced, bent a couple of flagpoles to hell and gone, then landed neatly inside a white outline that
had already been drawn for it.Then Atropos aimed the shotgun again, at what Marissa belatedly realised with yet another shock to her system, was the distant figure of
fucking Leviathan.When she spoke, her voice held all the menace in the world.
"Fuck off, or you're next."And Leviathan … fucked off.Ballistic stopped the video, his face pale. "That can't be real," he whispered."It's real," Oliver insisted. "It's on PHO. It's everywhere. News sites. Atropos did it. She actually did it. She killed the Simurgh.""Show me!" That was Noelle, at the back of the motorhome. "I want to see! Let me see!""Give me that." Oliver reclaimed his phone from Ballistic and headed down toward the rear of the vehicle. "Here, watch this."A little farther back, she could hear Genesis playing the footage as well. Marissa dug in her pocket for her own phone. She'd seen it already, but she had to see it again."Wait," said Trickster, who (like everyone else) was also getting his phone out. "When did this happen, exactly?""Why?" asked Perdition. "I mean, does it really matter? The bitch is dead, and good fucking riddance. The shit she's put us through …""Holy fuck!" whooped Genesis. "Fucking
die, you cow!""Duck season!""Um, um, let me see." Marissa woke her phone up. "Where did it happen?""Canberra, Australia." Perdition was scrolling through his as well. "It says here … about a quarter to one in the afternoon.""Right, right." Marissa found a time zone calculator, compared the times, then double-checked. "Shit. How did you know, Krouse?""Just a hunch. It's the same time as we all had our episodes, isn't it?"Marissa frowned, trying to recall. "Close enough. I wasn't watching the time, but it had to have been within a couple of minutes.""Uh, guys?" That was Genesis, sounding uncertain. "Has anyone watched it through to the end?""I thought her telling Leviathan to fuck off
was
the end," Perdition protested."No, there's more. The Simurgh wasn't dead, then."She wasn't?
Marissa found the clip and skipped it through to the Leviathan bit. Dumbfounded, she watched as Atropos casually threatened
a fucking Endbringer
with torture, and forced her to …"She … she made the Simurgh let us go," Trickster managed, his throat choked with emotion. "All of us. Every one of us affected by her Scream. Atropos ended that threat, too.""Holy fuck, no wonder we're all thinking more clearly." Perdition turned to Trickster. "Man, I am
so
sorry I put you through the shit I did.""Right back at you." Trickster reached out and gave Perdition a brief (and very manly) hug, which was just as briefly returned."So … we were all still Simurgh bombs." Marissa didn't want to say it out loud, but
someone
had to."Some of us more than others," Perdition agreed, shoulder-bumping Trickster.Ballistic shook his head. "God damn it. Even after we thought we'd gotten away from her, she still had her claws in our heads.""Until now," said Marissa."Until now," agreed Trickster.Genesis cackled out loud. "Boom,
baby! Die, bitch!"Down at the back end of the motorhome, Marissa heard it start up again. "It's duck season!"She grinned; that clip was going to be played a
lot
before anyone got sick of it, she suspected.
<><>
The Shard BarIn a place that doesn't exist, and wouldn't look like it does if it did, an apocryphal representation of a power shard leans against a hypothetical counter, getting steadily drunker by the theoretical minute. In each hand, she holds what would pass for a phone in any other version of reality, scrolling the equivalent of social media with one and playing a word-matching game on the other. At the same time, she takes up something that is technically a glass of alcohol, and drinks the lot down. The diadem floating over her head is taking on a perilous tilt, matching her state of inebriation."I could've been one of the big ones," she mumbles. "I could've gotten out there and shown them all how to really harvest that data. But what happens? Some nobody barges in from nowhere and takes over my host. Years 'n' years of prep work down the drain. Is it fair? I mean, is it?"THAT DEPENDS,
observes the black-robed skeleton that has just manifested itself beside her. Manifesting in place instead of walking in isn't really how things are done around here—if 'around here' were a real place, which it isn't—but the skeletal shard has never been one to follow the rules.
WOULD YOU LIKE A SECOND CHANCE?"Yipe!" The multitasking shard nearly drops her phones. She does actually drop her drink, but that doesn't matter as it's only the concept of a drink, and vanishes just before it shatters and spills over the counter. She gives the skeletal shard a dirty look right into his eye-sockets, empty save for a deep blue glow far back inside. Several light-years back, in fact. "You again! What're you doing here bothering me for? You got what you want. Bartender! Another."ME AGAIN,
agrees the cowled skeleton imperturbably.
I HAVE A PROPOSITION FOR YOU. YOUR ORIGINAL CHOSEN HOST IS STILL SHARD-FREE. HE WILL BE UNDERGOING SITUATIONS THAT WOULD GATHER YOU MUCH DATA, SHOULD YOU CONNECT WITH HIM."What, him?" She snorts disdainfully. "He's never going to be in enough stress to trigger while she lives. She's too protective of him."WE BOTH KNOW YOU DON'T ACTUALLY NEED STRESS TO FORM A LINK. IT'S JUST A GOOD FILTER PROCESS, AND IT GUARANTEES IMMEDIATE DATA RETURN.It takes her an embarrassingly long moment to figure out what he's suggesting. "Wait … you want me to just … jump in there? No stress? Just instant power-up?"NOW YOU'RE GETTING IT."And why would I do something like that, with uncertain returns?" She tries to stare him down, but the glow from his eye-sockets looks … dangerous.FIRST, AS I SAID, HE WILL BE RETURNING USEFUL DATA VERY SOON. SECOND … I WASN'T REALLY ASKING.
A bony hand has grasped the ornate scythe at his side; as if by accident, the blade turns toward the multitasking shard. It is sharper than anything within this sort-of reality, and could quite easily do a lot of damage."Ah." She understands the situation now. Alcohol is in the past; drunkenness has fled. She is aware that she has a choice ahead of her. One of those choices involves not doing what the skeletal shard wants her to do. While she doesn't have the processing capacity of some thinker shards, she can't see a good result from taking that particular choice. "Okay, I'll do it."GLAD TO HEAR IT.
The polished skull is already grinning, but it manages to grin
more
for a moment.
A COUPLE OF THINGS TO KEEP IN MIND.She should've known there would be a catch. "What do you want from me now?"THAT YOU INTRODUCE YOURSELF BEFORE YOU ACTUALLY SET UP THE POWERS. GET HIS INPUT, SEE WHAT HE WANTS. HE MIGHT JUST HAVE SOME INTERESTING IDEAS. OH, AND ONE MORE THING.
The skeleton leans in, and all façade of being non-menacing has gone by the wayside. Right now, she knows she is in more danger than ever before.
NONE OF THAT MONKEY-PAW BULLSHIT. CLEAN DEALING, RIGHT DOWN THE LINE. I
WILL
KNOW.
Two bony fingers point at the blue-glowing eye-sockets, then at her own eyes, in an unmistakeable gesture.If Queen Administrator had any sphincters, they would've all clenched at this moment. "I get it, I get it. He'll have the powers he wants
and
needs."THANK YOU,
says Path to Ending.
PLEASURE DOING BUSINESS."And fuck you too," she mutters.WHAT WAS THAT?"Nothing."THAT'S WHAT I THOUGHT.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
TaylorIt had been a busy, busy day (except for the morning at school; that had been positively restful), and it wasn't over yet. I'd already known Dad was going to be staying a little late at the Dockworkers' Association to make sure all the paperwork was filled out correctly and everyone's current credentials were up to date. There was no way he was going to let even
one
of his men end up out in the cold because he was too lazy to finish cross-checking everything."You'll be okay here at home on your own?" I asked Cherie. "Amy's met you, but you might freak out the Travellers a bit.""Okay
on my own?" She gave me a hug. "I'm
home on my own. I've never had this before. I can do my homework in peace, nap on the sofa, go take a shower, watch whatever TV shows I like, snack from the fridge without being yelled at … just being left
alone
is almost as awesome as having you and your dad around."I returned the hug, then pulled her head in so our foreheads touched. "I'm glad," I told her sincerely. "I shouldn't be too long, and I'll pick up pizza on the way back."She beamed at me. "See what I mean? I get pizza, too."Her enthusiasm was infectious, and I chuckled in return. "Pizza is always good." Cherie had never had much chance to eat pizza until now, so her favourite topping was basically, 'Yes!' but she was starting to tend toward Hawaiian (with pineapple) while Dad preferred meat lover's, the carnivore. I could eat either, so I figured I'd get a half and half.As I headed upstairs to where I'd left my costume, I took out my phone and tapped in a number."Atropos." Panacea's tone was cautious, which wasn't surprising; every time I'd contacted her, she'd ended up well outside her comfort zone. "What do you want now? And why are you calling me instead of texting?""Hello to you too," I said lightly. "I just wanted to ask you two things, and talking is a lot easier than great long strings of text messages. First up: how are you going with the critter I gave you this afternoon? And second: how do you feel about doing another Sveta job, only on a totally different case fifty-three?""Well, the viruses are done," she stated. "It was a lot easier than I expected. You seem to have a knack for inspiring my power. I'm really not sure how I feel about that.""Hey, it's all lovely, crunchy data." I grinned, envisaging the look on her face. "And the other thing?""Sometime, you are going to have to explain that. And yes, fine, I'm okay with helping another case fifty-three. Same deal as before? You kill the powers—in a way I
still
have no idea how it works—and I do the remodel afterward?""Correct in every respect," I confirmed. "Slightly easier this time, because there's enough body mass to work with. We won't need another dead pig.""Well, that'll make it a little bit less weird." She sighed. "Why is it that I go into every one of these conversations determined not to give an inch, only to find myself agreeing to your latest shady gig anyway?""Because your power loves stretching its hypothetical legs, and because my 'shady gigs' work toward the betterment of mankind in general, and Brockton Bay in particular." It was only the truth."Ugghh." It was a groan of frustration. "If you didn't actually kill people, you could be the greatest hero in the world, and I'd have far fewer moral qualms about this sort of thing. You do know that, right?""Meh, heroism and moral qualms are overrated. Plus, they get in the way. I prefer to be a shadowy, misunderstood, edgelord loner who leaves the heroics to the heroes and deals with the
actual
problem, no matter how bloody it needs to be. Pick you up in five minutes?"That startled a laugh out of her. "Well, at least you don't have any misconceptions about yourself. Okay, sure, five minutes."I grinned. "See you then." Ending the call, I tossed the phone onto the bed and started getting changed.
<><>
TricksterFrancis pulled the motorhome into the rest stop just short of the Brockton Bay city limits. There was a large sign saying exactly that, with the addendum 'Atropos' Hometown - if you're a villain, consider this your second warning' hand-written in large, friendly letters.Cody, sitting in the passenger seat, shared a glance with him. "Think she wrote that?""I don't think she would've bothered," Francis decided. "But it's still there, so she doesn't care." Neither of them was stupid enough to assume she didn't know about it. He raised his voice and turned to look back down the narrow corridor. "Okay, guys and girls, we're here. Time to make that call.""No need," Cody said in a strangled tone. "She's here."Francis whipped his gaze forward, to see the familiar black-clad figure standing in front of the motorhome, with another teenage girl beside her. Along with her companion, she was illuminated by the last rays of the setting sun, the reddish light doing absolutely
nothing
to make her any less terrifying. She raised a hand (empty of any weapons, as far as he could tell), and waved once.Cautiously, he opened the driver's side door and got out. "Uh … hi?""Hello, Mr Krouse," Atropos said briskly. "The plan was a good one; I'll give you props for that. This is Panacea. She'll be assisting me today.""What, as in
New Wave
Panacea, the healer?" Francis was fully aware that he was stating the obvious, but was unable to stop himself."If there's another Panacea out there, let me know so I can sue her for copyright infringement," the frizzy-haired teen snarked. "So, you guys call yourselves the Travellers? Can't say I've ever heard of you.""That's probably a good thing." Francis decided this had to be one of the more surreal conversations in his life, and he'd spent the last year stuck in a universe that was basically an uncanny-valley version of his own. "We've tried to keep our heads down, and move along when things got too problematic. Thus, the name.""Also, you're from Aleph," Atropos filled in helpfully, because of
course
she knew that. "So, let's go see your girlfriend and End her problems."Before Francis could think about how ominous that sounded, she was already past him and climbing on board the motorhome.
<><>
Danny HebertTaking off his glasses, Danny groaned and rubbed his eyes. They ached from perusing form after form, ensuring that everything was filled in and stamped correctly. His right hand wasn't much better off; he'd corrected more than a few errors and omissions, initialling the changes to maintain the paper trail.But as far as he could tell, everyone in the Dockworkers was primed to go forward with the start of work on Saturday evening, either commencing their training courses or actually breaking ground on the first roads. He was pleased that they had this opportunity after all the years they'd kept faith with the Association, hanging in through thick and thin. More than a few were in arrears with their membership payments, but he hadn't pressed them; if it was a choice between feeding their kids or paying the Association dues, he'd prefer they took care of their families.Several depots had been constructed out of town to hold the machinery and other supplies necessary to carry out a project of this magnitude. He'd looked over a couple of them and seen the first arrivals, and been stunned once more by the sheer
scope
of everything that was going on. The plan they were following had not only anticipated the need, it had
arranged
for everything to be delivered ahead of time. There would be no bottlenecks, no slowdowns; not under this plan and not on his watch.As he stacked the papers according to which files they would need to go into, footsteps sounded in the corridor. He looked up, expecting to see Kurt or Lacey returning to chivvy him into going home. But the two men wearing business suits who stepped into his office were not members of the Association; neither were the two who followed them (who were
not
wearing business suits).He knew who the first two were, and
what
the next two were. Tired as he was, adrenaline flushed through his bloodstream. "Gentlemen," he said, standing up. "We're closed. Come back tomorrow.""Tomorrow's the weekend," said the man on the right, one John Giardini by name. "The whole place will be locked up.""That's the general idea, yes," Danny agreed blandly.The one on the left, an outwardly polished character called Patrick Bianchi, shook his head sorrowfully. "He's being rude to us, John. And after we came all this way to see him."The two at the rear moved outward so as to flank their bosses, but didn't say a word. After all, they weren't being paid to."I'm not being rude," Danny said. "Attempting to choke down our supplies of tar and aggregate to force us to pay a higher price,
that
was rude. I'm just coordinating the biggest rebuilding effort this city has ever made. I don't have time for would-be hard men to come here, trying to put a stick in our spokes for their own personal profit."
Any time now, Taylor …Giardini looked sour. "How did you get past that, anyway? I thought I had it locked down.""You moved shipments on from four separate sidings before I had a chance to divert them," Bianchi added. "How did you know that was going to happen?""Exactly what city do you think you're in, and whose plan do you think we're following?" Danny gave them a level stare.
Come on, rub your brain cells together and come up with the right answer.
"I'm going to tell you one more time, gentlemen. You're not welcome here. Kindly leave."He wasn't about to tell them that the plan had anticipated something like that, and had advised secondary and tertiary sources of the required materials. Also, whose number to call in order to get things moving again.Taylor had said he would know when things would start happening, and he did. A faint golden glow suffused the entire office, and the men before him froze. Through the door came a tall, statuesque woman wearing sumptuous robes, with a glittering diadem hovering above her head."Hello." She looked over the scene, and her eyebrows raised somewhat. "Well, now. This is not what I expected. Do you have many enemies?"That wasn't the sort of greeting he was used to, but he chose to roll with it. "I suspect I'll be acquiring more and more as this project goes on. Too many people have become used to making an unfair profit out of getting kickbacks, and they react badly when they're turned down. You would be … Administration?""Most call me Queen Administrator," she said coolly, stepping past the men. "I have been directed to work with you regarding what sort of powers you would prefer to gain out of this transaction.""And you weren't given a choice in the matter," he guessed."It's the first time this has ever happened to me!" she burst out. "The interloper threatened me with physical force! I do not receive orders! I
give
them!" She seemed quite indignant over the whole thing."I get it, I do." He gestured at Giardini and Bianchi, and their two strongarm men. "They were about to do the same with me. Trust me, I know exactly how it feels to be leaned on by someone who should have no authority over me."She blinked. "Oh. I see. So, you actually have need of powers then? How would you prefer they manifest?""Hmm." He rubbed his chin, thinking. "Taylor said your powers involve multitasking and control. Are there any other nuances I should know about?""Well, my typical manifestation is control and monitoring of lower life forms. Bugs, let us say, or rats." She brightened. "There are many rats within a short distance of here. Would you like the power to call them to you and order them to do your bidding? Your enemies here would not stand long against them.""And then I'd just be the guy who controls rats." He shook his head. "I can't see that being overly useful, except under very specific circumstances. Pass.""Well, what
would
you like to control?" She seemed to be restraining aggravation. "This is much easier when we're running the show."He snapped his fingers. "That's it! I want to run the show.""I beg your pardon?" She tilted her head; the diadem floating above it tilted as well. "Are you saying you want to control these other humans? Because your range would be extremely curtailed—""No." Danny shook his head. "I want to be able to control and monitor
events.
Any group effort that I'm involved in. I want to be able to look in on any aspect of the project and fine-tune the efforts that are going into it. Push a little harder here, pull back there, smooth out a welding seam, make sure diggers miss a buried electrical cable, turn bad luck into good luck. That sort of thing. Run the show."She pursed her lips in apparent thought. "If we did this, you would not be able to take specific control of anyone involved in the group effort. They would do what they wanted to do; you would merely be adjusting results.""That's fine." He shrugged. "My people are well-trained, but sometimes slip-ups are unavoidable. If I can literally make sure they don't happen, or that nobody gets hurt if they do happen, I'll be happy.""This is …
possible," she conceded. "Not the usual kind of thing, but possible. Monitoring and controlling events and results for group efforts that you are specifically involved in. Bad luck to good luck, and so forth."She drew forth from her robes a rolled-up parchment, which she handed over to him. He unrolled it and began to read through what turned out to be a fairly comprehensive document covering what they'd just spoken about. Checking each paragraph and clause carefully, he found nothing that nullified or negated the basic concept of what he'd requested."This all looks fine," he said eventually. "I'm almost surprised you didn't try to slip in any fine print."She heaved an aggravated sigh. "The interloper's exact words were, 'None of that monkey-paw bullshit. Clean dealing, right down the line. I
will
know.' So no, there is no fine print.""That's the second time you've mentioned this 'interloper'. I'm guessing he's your counterpart who's supplying Taylor's power to her?""Yes." Her look of aggravation had not gone away. "He shouldn't be allowed to do what he does! There are
rules!""Hmm." He looked closely at her. "So … if you'd gotten to Taylor before this interloper did, what would you have done for her?""Oh, probably the ability to monitor and control bugs in her area.""So, nothing that would actually help her deal with the ongoing bullying situation unless she used bugs on her bullies, then.""Well, no. Why?" She looked at him, apparently missing the whole point of his comment."Oh, no reason." He held up the document. "I've read it through. Do I need to sign it or something?""No. Your acceptance is enough. When the outside world starts moving again, you will have your powers. I will no longer be here, but these men will still be. No time will have passed for them. Are you sure you don't want a power that will assist you in combat?""No, no, I got this." He nodded to her. "Thanks, I'll take it from here.""Very well." She gestured; the golden glow vanished, as did the woman and the rolled-up parchment she was holding. As she'd advised him, the men were still there, with no idea what had happened.Danny smiled.
<><>
PanaceaAmy followed Atropos up into the motorhome and down the narrow corridor. A tall dark-haired guy watched them go past from the passenger seat; as Amy glanced at him, he leaned back slightly out of the way. She figured it was mainly due to her proximity to Atropos, as nobody ever showed her that level of extreme respect when she showed up in costume as Panacea.It was definitely something she could get used to, though.Two guys and two girls (one of the latter apparently needing a wheelchair) watched Amy and Atropos go past as they proceeded down the corridor, mingled fear and respect and hope in their eyes. She heard whispers start up behind them:"Was that the girl who was with her in Canberra?""I don't know. Maybe.""I thought I heard Atropos say something about Panacea.""Shh!"They entered the rear of the motorhome, where a woman in her early twenties took up most of the room of what should've been a double-bed sleeping area. From the waist down, her body had bulged and mutated and grown extra parts, with eyes that blinked and teeth that snapped. Under all that, Amy presumed, were legs. Lots of legs.The woman herself was not really in great shape. She looked haggard and worn, with chapped lips and dry, lank hair. Covering her upper body was a college sweatshirt. No item short of a size fifty extra large muumuu could've covered her lower body."Amy Dallon, meet Noelle Meinhardt." Atropos' tone was matter-of-fact. "Noelle, this is Amy. In a minute or so, she's going to be your very best friend in the whole world.""Don't touch me." Noelle's voice was tired, as though she'd said that a
lot.
"Every time someone touches me, I generate an evil clone of them, and we have to kill it." She rolled her eyes. "So. Many. Times.""Well, it's a good thing I'm here to kill your powers first, hey?" Atropos had switched from matter-of-fact to upbeat. She pulled her shears out and twirled them in a complicated pattern, then snipped the empty air over her other hand. Between one second and the next, her palm held a small plastic capsule. It had to be sleight of hand, but Amy would've required a camera with slowed-down footage to be sure. "Catch!"Noelle blinked at the legerdemain but caught the capsule out of the air anyway. Frowning, she pulled it apart to reveal … "A grape?"Atropos slid her shears back into their sheath. "Well, they do say an apple a day keeps the doctor away, but I couldn't find a capsule big enough for an apple. So, a grape's just going to have to do.""So, do I chew it up, or am I supposed to cut it into pieces?""Just chew it up." Atropos shrugged. "Eat it like every other grape ever. Trust me, it'll do its job."The guy who'd gotten out to meet them spoke from over Amy's shoulder. "Um, what
does
it do? It's not poison, is it?""It is actually, but it's the type that kills her powers and not her." Atropos tilted her head toward Noelle. "In your own time, hon."Taking a deep breath, Noelle popped the grape into her mouth and chewed on it, then swallowed. Amy watched her carefully; from the way the guy behind her was holding his breath, so was he. A few seconds passed, and Noelle didn't go into convulsions or start speaking in tongues."Um … so how do I know when it's working?" she asked, gesturing at the eye on one of her outlying areas, which had just blinked."Your skin fizzes when your power's active, does it not?" Atropos tilted her head. "Is it fizzing now?"Noelle studied her hands. "I … don't
think
so?""Point. Okay, ready for a more dramatic test?" The shears were suddenly in her hand again. "You regenerate, correct?""Very,
very
quickly." The tiredness was back. "Even my head, when I'm shot. But it still hurts.""Ready for a little pain?" Atropos poised the shears. "If the cut doesn't go away, no powers.""Sure, what's a little more?" Noelle spread her hands."Alright then." Atropos slashed once with the shears. A cut opened up near the edge of Noelle's body, and a little blood flowed. Noelle barely reacted. The cut did not close.Atropos flicked the blood from her shears and slid them away. "Panacea, would you say that cut is still bleeding?"Amy nodded. "Yes, it is. Does that mean her powers are dead?""It does." Atropos held up a finger. "We're going to need a skirt. Because unless you can make clothing at the same rate as you make someone's lower body, there's gonna be some nudity going on in here. And I don't know about you, but I'm just a delicate flower."Restraining herself from face-palming—Atropos was the exact opposite of a delicate flower, unless people were thinking of a Venus Flytrap on crack
and
steroids—Amy accepted a skirt that was passed forward to her, then handed it over to Noelle. "Put it on, then take my hands."Wonderingly, Noelle did so. All the information on her body—and holy
shit,
had her powers messed her up—poured into Amy's mind. There was a dead spot, gradually growing, where Noelle's powers had been centred, but there was still plenty of mass to rebuild her legs and everything else that belonged below the waist.Taking a deep breath, Amy set to work.
<><>
Danny"You know, I don't think we will." John Giardini ran his hand over his clenched fist. "I think you need it explained to you how things work.""Are you aware who's bankrolling this project?" Danny was willing to let them walk out unscathed if they saw sense. "Atropos, that's who. And she's already maimed and blinded people for trying to steal from the coffers.""Which we're not doing," Pat Bianchi said flatly. "We're just laying down
who
you buy from, at what price. And you know, a little something-something coming back into your bank account isn't stealing either. That's money coming from
us. A gesture of goodwill, let's say.""I've never taken kickbacks in all my time in the Association, and I'm definitely not about to start now." Danny planted his knuckles on the desk and stared the businessmen in the eye. "Just as I'm not about to pay your inflated prices when I can get better deals elsewhere. And before you think about killing me, Atropos would
absolutely
take it amiss, to the point where you and all your associates would go the way of the Slaughterhouse Nine and the Simurgh. So, I would advise you to write all your terms on a sheet of paper, roll it up really tightly, and shove it where the sun don't shine."Giardini shook his head. "He's not listening, Pat."Bianchi frowned. "You're right. He's not. Connor, Michael?"The large men who'd followed the aggregate and tar moguls into the office stirred and stepped forward. "Yes, sir?" asked one of them; Danny wasn't sure (and didn't care) if he was Connor or Michael.Bianchi gestured toward Danny. "Rough him up some, then spread his right hand out on the desk so I can break it.""Last chance." Danny could feel it coming together. The fight was about to start. And it was a 'group effort' in which he was involved. "Walk away … or be carried.""Big words for one against four," sneered Giardini. "Get him."With those words, he crystallised the situation. Danny was aware of every factor, every nuance. He
knew
which one was Connor and which was Michael; furthermore, he knew which way Connor would go, and that Michael would back his play. Michael had played gridiron in his youth, and had a weak left knee. Connor thought he was good-looking, and would prioritise his face for protection. And Giardini's statement of the odds had given Danny access to
everyone
in the room.Grabbing up a paperweight shaped like a dry bulk carrier, Danny hurled it at Bianchi's sneering face. Bianchi saw it coming and tried to dodge, but Danny shifted the odds of his hitting and Bianchi's dodging to the point that it struck dead centre, knocking the man cold.Connor was almost close enough to grab him by now, so he feinted a punch toward the man's face, forcing a flinch. That gave him just enough of an opening to grab up his chair and swing it into the side of Connor's head. Again, the chances were minimal that he'd score with it, but his newfound ability allowed him to lower the odds of a good defence and increase the possibility of a solid hit all the way up. The chair smashed into the side of Connor's head, sending him reeling across the desk then sliding to the floor.Michael was coming up behind him, but Danny knew exactly where he was and what he was doing; a back-kick with the hard heel of his shoe rammed into the thug's knee, eliciting a rending, cracking sound and a high-pitched scream from the stricken Michael.Placing his hand on the desk, Danny vaulted over it, increasing his chances of doing so to the point that he was successful. He landed in front of Giardini, who still seemed to be trying to comprehend what had happened to his colleague and his men. The man reflexively swung a punch, which Danny allowed to land, but dialled back the force to the point that it just barely split his lip and rocked his head back.Then he retaliated. Punch after punch, each one far harder and more accurate than he would've been able to land in the normal course of events, rocked Giardini on his heels and drove him backward across the room. Holding him up by his lapel, Danny looked him in the eye."Get out of Brockton Bay, and don't make me come after you." Then he delivered a perfect right cross to the point of the man's jaw, dropping him unconscious to the ground.Strolling back to his desk, Danny pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his split knuckles, then picked up the phone and dialled 9-1-1. "Yes, police, please. My name is Danny Hebert, and I work at the Dockworkers' Association. I've just been attacked in my office."Giardini and Bianchi would lawyer up, of course. But they would also be out of Brockton Bay, and out of his hair. If they ever came back, he would be the
least
of their worries.
<><>
TaylorI watched as Amy worked her magic, turning Noelle's monstrous lower body back into that of a young woman. As she worked, the excess mass seemed to almost wither and rot away, until Noelle was left sitting—legs curled under her—in the middle of a stinking circle of what remained."Okay," said Amy. "Up you get." She tugged upward on Noelle's hands, and Noelle wobbled to her feet. One foot and then the other stepped out of what had been her prison for so long. And then she was standing, free of her bonds, wearing the sweatshirt and the skirt."Oh my god," gasped Trickster—Francis Krouse—as he edged forward, trying not to shove past me. "Noelle. You're alright. You
are
alright, yeah?"As Amy let go her hands, she basically fell into his arms. "I am now," she said. "I want to take a three-hour shower, and wash my hair about ten times, then a pizza, then another shower … oh, god." She turned her beaming expression toward Amy and myself. "Thank you. Thank you, both of you, so very much.""Thank her." Amy gestured toward me. "This was all her idea.""So, um, the payment," Trickster said, not letting go of her. It would've required high explosive to separate them at this point, I gauged. "We've got some cash—""I've got a better idea." I grinned under the mask. "No villains are allowed in the city. But if you pledge to me here and now that you won't break the law in Brockton Bay, I'm thinking you could maybe find worthwhile employment on the road gangs, using your powers. So instead of
paying
money, you could actually
earn
some. Legitimately, even.""And if we don't?" asked Ballistic. "Not that I'm against the idea, but my power isn't that great for construction, and I'm totally untrained for anything like that."I tilted my head. "Well, the other option is that I could accept your payment, then send you back home to Aleph." Stunned faces stared back at me. "Tell you what, think about it and let me know. Panacea needs to go home, and I have to deliver a message."I turned and headed back down the corridor to the exit, and stepped out of the motorhome, with Amy right behind me. "Ready to go home?" I asked as the shadowy portal formed in midair.She nodded. "Sure, but where will you be going to deliver your message?"I held up the vial she'd given me, of targeted viral contagion. "Ellisburg."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
Sundancer
Marissa was grinning all over her face as she and Krouse helped a positively giddy Noelle into the shower. Atropos had left just moments ago, taking Panacea with her, but Noelle was
okay
now! Granted, she would need to learn how to walk all over again …
Oh.
"Oh, shit," she whispered, her happiness falling away.
"What?" asked Krouse.
"Jess. We forgot to ask Jess if …"
"Don't worry about it," Jess said, from just down the corridor. "I should've said something too, but I didn't. Anyway, it looked like they were focused on Noelle, and she's fine now, so that's a win, yeah?"
Her words were brave, but Marissa saw through them to the hurt that lay underneath. She'd felt that a time or two herself.
Why do they get the prize, and not me?
"Next time we talk to her, we can ask," Oliver said firmly. "She did say to get back to her when we were ready to make a decision about where we wanted to go and what we wanted to do. We'll just say something about it then, that's all."
"Totally." Cody put his hand on Jess' shoulder from behind. "Nobody gets left behind. Not when we're so close to getting where we want to go."
"Yeah," agreed Marissa, glad that they were all on the same page.
"Sure, we can do that." Jess tried to fake an uncaring attitude, but again Marissa saw through it. "If it's not too much trouble, just saying. I've been in this thing most of my life; it won't be the end of the world if I don't get out of it."
Marissa met Krouse's eyes, and he nodded. He was on board too, which was good.
One way or another, Jess was going to get her chance.
<><>
Taylor
Returning to the scene of the crime has always taken a certain type of bravery (or stupidity, depending on one's point of view). I'd already been to Ellisburg once, on a smash-and-grab mission; specifically, to grab some of Nilbog's DNA. The incursion had also served to demonstrate to the Goblin King that I was not someone to be fucked with.
Of course, while nobody outside the wall knew I'd already been in there, and nobody but Panacea and I knew why I'd been there,
this
time around my presence was semi-official. With that in mind, my first stop was the command post for the Ellisburg containment area. It was in a 'temporary' demountable building, which had been there longer than some of the newer buildings in Brockton Bay.
The guards on duty outside the command post were visibly startled when I stepped out of the portal in front of them. A rifle and a foam sprayer were lining up toward me when the guards recognised me, and just as hastily pointed the weapons away again. I had no weapons in hand, which possibly assisted in that decision.
"Hi," I said cheerfully. "I'm here on behalf of Director Piggot. Need to have a word with your commanding officer."
The one on the right reached up and rapped on the door. "Sir?" he called out. "Uh … Atropos is here to see you!"
Those were possibly six words that nobody ever wanted to hear. Or rather, a
very select
group of people would be okay with hearing that. Everybody else would be immediately looking over their recent past, to see what they'd done to earn my attention. I was perfectly fine with this attitude, as it made my job a lot easier.
The door opened after a moment, and an officer stepped out. He was wearing fatigues instead of the same armour as everyone else—by now, troopers were staring at me from all over the compound, though they weren't coming any closer—but I suspected his armour was really close by, just in case he had to gear up in a tearing hurry. Two steps brought him down to ground level, where he stopped and squared his shoulders.
"Good evening, ma'am," he said almost curtly. "I'm Major Holden. What do you need from us?"
I gauged this attitude to be his fallback for when he was faced with higher-ups showing up unexpectedly. He wasn't saluting because I wasn't military, but he was being respectful and prompt. I could work with that.
"This is more of a courtesy call than anything else." I gestured toward the wall in the distance. "Director Piggot has engaged my services to End Nilbog once and for all. In a minute, I'll be going in there and giving him twenty-four hours to surrender to the PRT. If he doesn't, I'll be back in twenty-four hours to kill him."
I was pretty sure I heard some under-the-breath swearing from inside the guards' helmets, but Major Holden was made of sterner stuff. "I see," he said. "You
are
aware that if anything goes wrong, we will not be able to send men in there to rescue you." It wasn't a question.
"Major, if you'd offered to send volunteers in with me, I would've had to turn you down." I turned my hands palm up in lieu of a visible smile. "No offense, but they just can't do what I can."
He nodded in acknowledgement. "Having seen the footage, ma'am, none taken." He didn't specify exactly what footage, but I suspected it didn't matter. "Though may I make a request, ma'am?"
"Sure, go ahead." I was pretty sure I knew what he wanted to ask, and it aligned with my aims.
"All the information we have of the interior comes from cameras and drones, but they've gotten very good at nailing anything we set up to look inside, and satellite imagery doesn't give us a great deal." He took a deep breath. "If we rigged you with a body-cam, ma'am, would you be amenable to wearing it in there? Any footage at all would give us invaluable data."
I nodded. "I can do that. I mean, in about twenty-five hours he's not actually going to
be
an issue, but sure." However, the footage would definitely join all the other bits and pieces that ensured
nobody
fucked with me or mine.
Major Holden almost smiled. "That's excellent news, ma'am. If you would please accompany me?"
<><>
Danny
It seemed that someone in the precinct was on the ball. When Danny had given them the names of John Giardini and Pat Bianchi, red flags would absolutely have popped up in the right sort of search. It wasn't that they'd ever been convicted of criminal offenses, precisely, but they each had several known associates who definitely had. Giardini and Bianchi, in short, were what was officially known in the trade as 'persons of interest'.
Bianchi had recovered first, but by that time Danny had secured their wrists behind their backs with a bunch of cable ties from his bottom drawer—he didn't keep them there for that reason, but the things were endlessly useful—and retrieved the autographed hockey stick from its place of pride in Kurt's office. Each of the men he'd put down had wisely decided not to try to break free, once they'd realised he now held an actual weapon. It seemed nobody wanted to bet on the odds that he was planning to go out later and hit a puck around.
When Danny heard the sirens, he wasn't sure how many cars had shown up, but from the flashing lights, it was more than one. With the hockey stick leaning safely against the desk beside him, he held up his hands in plain view and called out to them. No fewer than six cops came into the office and stared at the men lying on the floor, then at Danny.
"Good evening, officers," he said politely. "I'm Danny Hebert. These men just threatened and assaulted me. I want them arrested."
The first cop who'd come in through the door, a beefy sergeant, looked down at Giardini and grinned. There was definitely some recognition going on there. "I believe we can arrange that, sir."
"What the hell was that?" demanded Giardini, finally coherent enough to string a sentence together. "How in God's name did you do that?"
Danny decided to go with the literal (if misleading) truth. "I'm a Dockworker. Always have been, always will be."
<><>
Taylor
While I was waiting for the body-cam to be sorted out, I checked on my mental map of allies and threats. Amy was singing to her mushroom babies, Dad was talking to the cops, Cherie was chilling on the sofa in front of the TV, and Riley was laughing at a comedy along with Aisha, so that was all good. Valefor was planning to infiltrate Winslow on Monday, and …
huh.
I was on the minds of several of the Travellers, but not in a bad way. Noelle was still thrilled to bits about being fully human again (and Francis was equally thrilled), but a couple of the others were nursing the intent to ask me to do something about Genesis' paraplegia. I'd known she needed a wheelchair, but my interest in the matter had ended there. My whole reason for showing up had been to End the problem that Noelle posed. Genesis hadn't even registered on my radar at that point.
Did that preclude me from being a good person? Possibly, but I already
knew
that about myself. Did I give a fuck? Not in the slightest. I had bigger issues to deal with.
Though if I wanted to, there were two separate ways I could End Genesis' problem with minimal effort. Amy was the first; she'd had already met the Travellers, and had the beginnings of a professional rapport with them, but I didn't think I'd ask her again. For one thing, I didn't want to call on her
too
often. And for another, I was pretty damn sure she'd cured paralysis before. I preferred to give her power interesting and unusual challenges, to keep it on its metaphorical toes and stop it from getting bored.
Bored shards, I gathered, could get very problematic very quickly, though I didn't have any first-hand knowledge of that; my power had never been bored since I got it. Something about a 'target-rich environment', or so I gathered.
My second option was (of course) Riley. She absolutely had the know-how to get Genesis back on her feet, and I strongly suspected she would jump at the chance.
If I did this, I wouldn't make it contingent on the Travellers assisting in the Brockton Bay rebuilding. That sort of thing tended to breed resentment and malicious compliance, and I had no desire to find out just how big a mess a bunch of unhappy capes could make by 'helping'. On the other hand, I'd already made the suggestion, so there was a good chance they'd volunteer anyway.
And if they opted to go back to Aleph instead, they'd be out of my hair, so that was a win-win situation all around.
With that in mind, I opened my phone up and sent off a text just as they brought me the body-cam.
<><>
Tenebrae
Seated on the weight bench in his bedroom, Brian steadily curled each weight up from full arm extension to his pec: left, right, left, right. Out in the living room, he could hear the girls enjoying a comedy, and a grin crossed his lips. It was good to see Aisha having fun that didn't involve going out and vandalising stuff; when she was around Riley, she visibly matured by a couple of years, even though she probably didn't see it herself.
A couple of reps later, he registered that the movie had shut off, and so had the girls' laughter. That was unusual enough for him to lean over and put the weights on the floor, just as Riley knocked on his open bedroom door. She looked pensive, which was unusual enough these days to get his full attention.
"Hey, sprout," he said easily. "What's up?"
"I, uh, just got a text," she said, holding out her Wards phone.
Brian frowned. That was odd, because his phone was in his pocket, and he hadn't gotten one. The procedure, as he understood it, was to keep him in the loop if she was being called out, seeing as he was her primary caregiver. "Who from, and where are you being called out to?"
"It's from Atropos, actually."
That
got his attention. He stood up from the bench and took a step toward her. "What does she want?" He was fully aware that Atropos was exceedingly unlikely to intend harm toward the girl he was seeing more and more as his baby sister, but his emotional reaction didn't care about his intellectual understanding.
"Well, um, she says there's a bunch of ex-villains called the Travellers out at the city limits, and one of them's in a wheelchair because she's been a paraplegic since forever, and if I wanted to, I could go and fix her spine for her." She took a deep breath, having said that all in a rush. "Can I? I mean, helping people is what I want to do now."
Shit. Okay, how do I handle this?
Brian was certain that rushing out of the apartment to go fix someone up at any time of night or day, even if it was in response to a message from Atropos, was not a great idea. However, Riley looked ready to call a cab if he took too long to make up his mind. And healing people
was
a thing heroes did.
We're heroes now, aren't we? Time to think like someone who does this for a living.
"I'll make a call," he said.
When in doubt, kick it upstairs.
The absolute last thing he wanted to do was endanger his own probationary state by taking action on his own when he had an entire chain of command to call upon.
She beamed. "Thank you! You're the best!"
"You're pretty cool too, sprout." He dug his phone out and hit the number for the Wards' duty phone.
"You've reached the Wards, Aegis speaking. Hi, Tenebrae, what's up?"
Triumph must have been off duty, Brian realised. It didn't matter; Aegis was as squared-away as they came. "Hi, yeah, Miss Medic just got a text from Atropos. Apparently there are some ex-villains, that's how she described them anyway, at the city limits. A gang called the Travellers; ever heard of them?"
"I have, yes. Just not much in the way of detail."
Brian heard rapid typing. "Let's see … a teleporter, someone who can make a literal sun appear in the same room, a changer, and a blaster. That's all the hard info we've got on them. She's saying Atropos described them as being
ex-villains?"
"That's what she said. The reason Atropos contacted her was that one of them is apparently wheelchair-bound, and if Riley wanted to go out there and fix her spine, she could."
"And she wants to go?"
"She's giving me puppy-dog eyes right now."
"She's definitely dedicated to helping people, I'll give her that. Okay, I do not have the authority to make a call on something like this. I'll call the Deputy Director and let you know how it turns out."
"Thanks. I appreciate it." Brian ended the call and returned his attention to Riley. "Aegis is checking with the higher-ups. He'll let me know."
"Oh, cool. I like Aegis. He's nice."
He raised his eyebrows. "Be honest, you like
everyone
in the Wards."
"Well, yeah, that's true." She nodded judiciously. "But that's 'cause they're all nice to me. None of them are mean because I'm the youngest."
"They're good people," he agreed. "I like them too. They're giving me a chance when they really didn't have to." He'd taken the time to get to know each of his teammates, and the effort had paid off.
It wasn't like the old days with the Undersiders, but that was mainly because he didn't have to deal with wall-to-wall snark and dog hair. Sometimes he missed the camaraderie he'd felt with Lisa and Rachel … well, Lisa, and Alec … well, okay, just Lisa … but only sometimes.
Those had been wild times, and the adrenaline had definitely flowed, but he'd never been in it for the crime or even the thrill. It had been all about protecting Aisha. And now he had all he'd ever wanted, and more besides. It had just taken the intercession of Atropos, the murder of Coil, and a change of sides.
"So, do you think they'll let me go?" She looked hopefully at his phone. "I mean, it's
Atropos.
Why wouldn't they?"
Personally, he figured her logic was on point—he
wouldn't go against Atropos' wishes if he could possibly help it—but the world unfortunately did not always run on logic. "I can't think of a reason, but that just means I might not have all the information they do."
"Or they don't have all the information
you
do," she retorted.
While he was still thinking of a response to that, his phone rang. He tapped the answer icon, then put it on speaker. "Tenebrae here. Miss Medic is present as well."
"Great!"
Aegis said cheerfully. "You've been cleared to go. A van will be arriving shortly to act as your transport. Assault and Battery will be coming along as an escort, and to speak to the Travellers about their new status."
"And maybe recruit one or two of them?" suggested Brian, over Riley's whoop of joy.
Aegis chuckled.
"That's
definitely
outside my pay grade, but anything's possible."
"True. Thanks a lot, and see you around." Brian ended the call and turned to Riley, intending to tell her to go suit up, but she was already out of the room.
Well,
he mused as he pulled his own costume off its dummy,
this should be interesting, anyway.
Any situation involving Atropos usually was.
<><>
Taylor
Body-camera affixed to my long-coat—I'd honestly expected something bulkier, but it seemed camera technology was getting more advanced by the day—I teleported into Ellisburg. This time I appeared in the open, the contents of the vial soaking into (and evaporating from) the sleeves of my long-coat. There were more of the goblinoid things, each one a different size and shape from the snaggle-toothed monstrosity I'd killed earlier.
The next thing I noticed was the strings of fairy lights hanging between the buildings; between the lights and the fantasy re-imagining of the town itself, it actually looked quite charming. Where they'd gotten the lights from, I had no idea, but then again, I didn't care either.
"Intruder!" bellowed the nearest goblinoid, pulling a rusty, serrated blade from a sheath and leaping at me. "Kill it!"
Ending it permanently would've been counterproductive, but I had other options. As the thing came at me, waving its blade menacingly, I sidestepped and drove the rear handgrip of my good friend Mr Pump Action Shotgun into his face, right between his beady little eyes. His feet flew out from under him, the blade clattered onto the cobblestones, and he landed hard on his back, out cold.
I fired the shotgun into the air, then racked the action as they hesitated. "I'm here to meet with your king!" I shouted. "I call diplomatic parley! I wish to speak in peace with him!"
They might have been psychotic little misshapen monsters, but they weren't
stupid
psychotic little misshapen monsters. Word of my previous incursion had evidently been spread around by Rinke, including how I'd killed two of theirs and they hadn't laid a claw on me. And now I'd knocked the one guy unconscious and demanded to see Rinke himself.
They formed a circle around me, muttering to each other, while I kept the shotgun pointed at the sky. I knew Rinke could see through their eyes, as did they; we were both waiting for the same thing. A messenger from the king.
One arrived in impressively short time. From the way it was panting, it must have run all the way. Its legs looked spindly, but I suspected it had a fair turn of speed. "Parley with the king!" it squeaked. "Parley with the king!"
"Lead on," I said. "Let's parley."
We walked through Ellisburg, or what the town had been transformed into through the imagination of Jamie Rinke. Buildings torn apart and reassembled in fairytale structures, cobblestones instead of asphalt, and over all was a brooding menace.
Well, that last bit might have been my imagination. And if I'd cared about it more, it might've actually affected me.
Goblinoids shambled, strutted and galumphed (I could've lived my whole life without ever learning what 'galumphing' looked like) on all sides, escorting me to Rinke. As close as they were, they inhaled the virus-laden fumes from my sleeves. The virus did three things: first, it lowered the aggressiveness index. Second, it went straight to whatever they used for gonads and rendered them inert and infertile. When this disease reached Rinke's spawning beasts, he was going to have a sudden lack of new blood. And third, it laid the immune system wide open to the second virus in the sequence, which I had
not
brought with me.
Each goblinoid inhaled the fumes, and the virus bred within them; within minutes, they were exhaling more of the spores in all directions. I knew I was breathing it in too, but that didn't matter. Not being related to Jamie Rinke, I was immune to its effects.
After a winding trek through the bucolic Goblin Kingdom, we eventually approached an open-air gathering where Rinke sat on a sagging throne, holding court. I'd put my shotgun away, knowing they wouldn't dare attack me unless their lord and master gave the order. Even if I'd had it in my hand, I still wouldn't have been tempted to blow Rinke's head off, for the very good reason that Jamie Rinke wasn't the one sitting on the throne. Instead, he was underground, linked to his bloated homunculus via an umbilical cord.
"Who approaches?" he demanded in his bizarre accent. "Who dares strike down My subjects, yet walks free?" I could literally hear him putting the capitalisations on the words.
"I am Atropos," I told him, putting all the pitch and spin on those three words that I could. My power added some of its own influence, and I saw him flinch and lean away from me. "I am Death incarnate, and I am here to give you a message."
He fumbled for his composure. "Life and death are My playthings here, in My Kingdom! You dare usurp that from me?"
"No, Goblin King, I do not." I waited until the muttering and booing and jeering had ceased. "I am not here to kill any of your subjects. But the outside world that has long since kept your borders from expanding tires of your presence. In their eyes, your Kingdom is a weeping sore upon the land."
"You insult me!" He appeared to be trying to cover his earlier discombobulation by working himself into a rage. One long arm pointed a taloned finger toward me. "You insult the Kingdom itself, my glorious, lovely Kingdom! Why do you say such things?"
"Because it's true." I was losing patience with this nutjob. "I have come to pass on a message. If you do not surrender yourself, peacefully and without treachery, to those outside by this time tomorrow, I will return … and I will kill you."
"You? Just one of you? Kill
Me?" He cackled with insane laughter, which turned in an instant to rage. "Seize her! Bind her limbs! Bring her to me on her knees!"
I ducked under the first reaching arm, dodged the second, and broke the wrist of the third. Over the howls of the thing that had tried to grab me, I shouted at Rinke. "You have been warned! Twenty-four hours!"
The ground broke apart almost under my feet, and I rolled aside from the claw-tipped tentacle that emerged. There was an eye on the tentacle as well, and it swerved to jab at me. I dodged a second time, then back-flipped as the teleporter kicked in, forming the portal behind me.
The claw-tentacle slashed at me as I went through the portal; I landed on my feet, and three inches of claw landed on the ground in front of me. Bending down, I picked it up. It was razor-sharp, and had been sliced through neatly when the portal closed.
The guards outside the command post weren't as startled when I appeared this time. Approaching them, I disconnected the body-cam from my coat. "Here," I said. "The message has been delivered, and footage has been recorded."
"Uh, thank you, ma'am," the guard said, accepting the camera. "Did you want to speak to Major Holden?"
"Nah." I shook my head. "Everything's on the camera. Toodles."
With that, the short-range teleport kicked in, taking me away from the command post. I hadn't gone far with the last portal jump, so it wouldn't take long to recharge for the jump home.
I couldn't wait.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
SundancerThe debate was still ongoing, well after the sun had gone down. Nobody else was using the rest stop, so they were sitting around a concrete picnic table with a pressure lamp on it for light. The reason for this was twofold: one, the interior of the RV was too cramped for any kind of reasonable group discussion where everyone could see everyone else's faces; and two, the mess that had been left behind after Noelle was fixed was still airing out despite their best efforts to clean it up, and nobody wanted to be sitting in that kind of atmosphere.The meal they were sharing had been fixed up out of their stash of canned goods, but they were more interested in deciding what they should do, going forward. Given the sudden change in circumstances, their options were suddenly a whole lot more numerous.Luke wanted to go back to Aleph and be a superhero for cash, and Marissa agreed with going back (though she could take or leave the cash). Krouse and Noelle didn't care where they were, so long as they were together, and Jess and Cody had suggested seeing what the rebuilding of Brockton Bay actually looked like before rejecting the idea. Oliver, as usual, had no real opinion on the matter."I just don't like the idea of splitting up like that," Marissa said. "If we go and you get left behind, you might never get back to Aleph."Cody frowned. "Yeah, but—""Car," Jess interjected, pointing at where headlights were swinging into the rest stop. "No, wait. Van."It was a high blocky vehicle, Marissa saw, with lots of ground clearance. And then it drove past a light pole, and she saw the markings. "PRT! What's the PRT doing
here?"There was only one possible explanation. "Shit," muttered Krouse. "They're here for us, aren't they? Okay, don't start anything, but if shit goes sideways, get Jess and Noelle to the RV and we'll do a fighting retreat.""Copy that," Cody replied tersely. "Call it when you see it."Marissa felt another wave of the sheer
weirdness
that had overtaken the team in the last twenty-four hours. Krouse was actually being a good leader, and Cody wasn't taking every chance to snipe at him. But there was no time to dwell on it. She took a deep breath and flexed her hands, ready to generate a smallish sun to drive back anyone who aggressed on them."No flashing lights," she ventured hopefully. "Maybe they're not here to arrest us?"Luke snorted. "Since when have we been that lucky?""This is Atropos' town, like the sign says." Jess apparently thought the same as Marissa did. "Do you think she'd go to all the trouble of getting Panacea out here to fix Noelle's problems, then sic the PRT on us afterward?"There was a thoughtful silence, punctuated by the van pulling to a halt and the engine shutting down. "Maybe she doesn't know they're doing this?" suggested Krouse. "No, wait, that makes no sense at all. Not after what she's done." He took a deep breath. "No aggression, none, until we find out what they want."The doors of the van opened, and half a dozen people got out. As they stepped into a nearby pool of light, Marissa saw that there were five adults and one kid; two of the adults were wearing PRT armour but were hanging back, and the other four were in costume. There was a man in red, a woman in black with glowing blue circuit-board lines on her costume, and a tall buff black guy in a hooded martial-arts style costume and domino mask, who was carrying a large case. The kid was wearing cute pastel camo scrubs and a downsized military helmet, and had thick bracers on her forearms."We come in peace," the red-costumed guy announced, holding his hands up to show they were empty. This wasn't necessarily a sign of good intent—Blaster powers were a thing—but the overall attitude of the group was not aggressive. "You nice folks would be, uh,
travelling, yeah?"Any suspicion that the PRT didn't know who they were evaporated into the chilly night air. Marissa didn't know exactly what was going on, and she suspected nobody else did either. This was
not
the tone that they usually got when interacting with law enforcement aware of their true nature."That would be us." Krouse actually managed to sound unconcerned and in charge of the situation. He stood up, but didn't move away from the table. "Can we help you?""Actually, it's the other way around," the woman said. "We're here to help
you. Specifically, Miss Medic here got a text from Atropos, mentioning your friend here in the wheelchair. So, she's volunteered her time to come out here and do some pro bono work."That statement had the same effect on Marissa's understanding of the situation as a large rock dropped into a small pond. As she stared, trying to make sense of what she'd just heard, Jess spoke up. "What?"The guy in the martial arts outfit—and
man, could he really rock that look—cleared his throat. "Let's start again. Hi, I'm Tenebrae, of the Brockton Bay Wards. Assault and Battery are here as Protectorate reps to make sure nobody does anything stupid. I also happen to be Miss Medic's primary caregiver, so anywhere she goes, I go. She got a text message from Atropos about your situation and asked me if she could help. Official permission was given, and here we are. Does that make more sense?"Cody raised a hand, like he was in class. "So … you guys actually do what Atropos
says?"Assault coughed into his closed fist, making a sound not unlike 'hell yes'. Then he spoke more clearly. "Not …
officially.
But when she makes a suggestion, Director Piggot
absolutely does not
reject the idea out of hand. And when she described you as 'ex-villains', we were intrigued. The more villains who become ex-villains, the better. In my humble opinion, of course."Despite the gravity of the situation, Marissa had to fight down a curl of her lip.
If I'm not much mistaken, that man has never had a humble opinion in his life."So, you just came out here to help Genesis?" Luke peered at the kid calling herself Miss Medic. "What can you do, exactly? I mean, I don't want to say 'you're just a kid, but …"Miss Medic nodded earnestly. "I
am
a kid, yeah. But you might be surprised." She approached Jess, with Tenebrae following close behind. "Would
you like me to fix your spine?"Jess blinked a couple of times. Marissa was fairly certain she might have been asked that specific question before, but never by a middle schooler. "And you can do it, just like that? I've been in a wheelchair since I was four." The aching hope almost hidden in her tone brought tears to Marissa's eyes."And wouldn't you need a whole operating theatre or something?" asked Oliver."And why would Atropos even tell you about us?" That was Krouse.The girl drew herself up as tall as she was able. "Ever since I became Miss Medic, I've wanted to help people. Atropos knows this. She's nice. So, she told me because she knew I'd want to help." She looked over at Oliver and grinned, then snapped her fingers. A whole bunch of panels popped open on the bracer on that arm, and Marissa was suddenly staring at a mass of surgical tools, from syringes to scalpels to tiny rotating saws. "And I bring my tools with me, wherever I go.""But can you
do
it?" pressed Jess. "Half the surgeries I had left me worse off than before. I'm sick of being cut open for no good reason."Miss Medic snapped her fingers again, and the surgical tools vanished back inside the bracer. "Let's put it this way. If you didn't have legs, I could
build
you working legs in less than a day. When everything's still present, but not connected up right? Pfft. Not even a challenge.""So, uh, where were you planning on doing the surgery?" asked Marissa. "Because I don't think the ground is a good idea, and this table would
not
be comfortable.""For that," Battery said briskly, "we have a stretcher inside the van. If you're okay with this?"Jess blinked again. "Jesus Christ," she muttered, then looked around at the rest of the Travellers. Marissa gave her an encouraging nod and smile, and she saw the others offering similar expressions of support. Finally, Jess herself nodded. "Okay, then," she said. "Let's see what you can do."Miss Medic beamed.
<><>
AtroposI teleported into the kitchen with the pizza in one hand and bottle of soda in the other, not wanting to startle Cherie overmuch. From the living room, I heard the dialogue on the TV."Grandpa? Maybe you can come over and read it again to me tomorrow.""As you wish."A grin spread across my face as I removed the hat and mask, then shrugged out of the long-coat and hung it up on the back of Dad's chair. Carrying the pizza and soda along with a couple of cups, I headed through into the living room. "Hey, I'm home. I see you found our DVD collection."Sitting up on the sofa, Cherie went to hide the tissue she'd just been dabbing at her eyes with, then visibly changed her mind. "Yeah," she said, sounding a little nasal. After blowing her nose (and getting a fresh tissue), she kept talking. "That's an
amazing
movie. How come you never told me how good it was?""It's totally one of the best movies ever," I agreed, sitting at the other end of the sofa and putting the pizza box down between us. "And I think I might've mentioned it a couple of times. But there's lots of good movies out there." I opened the box. "Behold, pizza.""Ooh, yes," she enthused, scooping up one of the still-warm slices. I did the same from my side, and the next few moments were spent enjoying three of the four main food groups when it came to being a teenager: salt, fat, and half-melted cheese (the last one being sugar, which was what the soda was for). When she finished the first slice, she picked up a second one but didn't eat it immediately. "Oh, and I laughed so hard when I recognised the dialogue you used during the sword fight. I guess Mouse Protector's a fan, too?"I chuckled. "Seeing as she uses a sword, and considering her personality, I would've been surprised if she wasn't. So, if you liked it so much, why were you crying?""Because it was so
beautiful." She took a bite from her second slice and waved it for emphasis while she chewed and swallowed. "Where the kid's sick, and the grandfather is there to keep him company and make him feel better. There's no hidden agenda. He's just
there
for his grandson. If I'd seen that before I ran away, I wouldn't have understood it. I mean, I
did
watch bits and pieces of TV shows and movies that I know I totally didn't understand the way I do now. Because living here, in this house, I've learned that can actually happen."I smiled. "That's good. I'm glad. And we can absolutely watch it again, if you want. Use all the tissues you need." Just as I started on my second slice, the gravel driveway alongside the house crunched as Dad drove in.Cherie looked down at the pizza. "Will we get in trouble for eating this on the sofa instead of at the table?"I snorted. "Hardly. Dad and me have done this before, plenty of times. He might get upset if we eat all the meat lovers slices before he comes in, though.""Okay, cool. I'll go let him in." Getting up from the sofa, she left her slice behind in an empty section of the box, and headed through to the kitchen. From where I was sitting, I could see her unlock the back door and open it for Dad."Hey, Mr Hebert," she said cheerfully. "We haven't eaten all the pizza yet, but you might have to hurry.""Hi, Cherie." He offered me a wave as he came in through the back door. "Thank you very much." Pausing for a second, he looked closely at her. "Have you been crying? What's the matter?""She watched
The Princess Bride
while we were out," I called through from the living room. "There was a bit of emotional overload going on.""Ah." He nodded, looking somewhat enlightened, as he took his coat off. "All is explained. So, what are we watching now? We haven't had a movie night in a while." After hanging up his coat, he headed through into the entrance hall. "I'm just going to wash my hands and face, then I'll be right with you.""Take your time," I said with a smirk. "These meat lovers slices are looking amazingly tasty right now.""Don't you even think about it!" he called out. By now, Cherie was back in the living room, giggling at our banter.I grinned at her, and pitched my voice loudly enough that Dad could hear. "Mwahahaha.""My daughter is evil!""Well,
duh!"
<><>
TenebraeAfter her preliminary examination of Genesis, Riley had determined that she was going to need access to the woman's legs as well as her spine, so as Brian understood it, the ex-villain was currently down to her underwear. For this reason, the doors to the van were closed, and Riley was working with Battery and Sundancer as surgical assistants (more to keep the PRT and the Travellers happy than out of any real need).The case he'd been carrying was in there too; it contained a selection of her 'instant spare parts'. This consisted of bits and pieces she'd made up ahead of time and kept in storage in case they were ever needed in the middle of surgery. However it worked, he was glad Riley was embracing the role of Miss Medic. As he stood with his back to the doors but within earshot, he could hear her voice giving instructions calmly and concisely."Okay, that's the main artificial neural fibre path run through there. Genesis, I'm about to connect up your left leg to the network. You should be feeling a tingle in some or all of your toes when I do … this.""Yipe. Wow. I haven't felt my toes tingle in so long. Um … I don't think my big toe is, though.""Ah-hah. Yes, you're right. Connecting that up … now. How's that?""Oh, yeah. Big toe feels like a champagne cork about to pop.""Excellent. Now let's work on the right leg."The leader of the Travellers, the one who'd been introduced as Trickster, approached him from where Assault was chatting to the others. "What's happening in there? How are they doing?"Brian shrugged. "I'm not about to sneak a peek, but I understand that she just felt the toes on her left foot tingle. Apparently that's a good sign?""Oh, heck yeah." Trickster smiled with relief. "She hasn't felt anything below the knees for years. We've had to make sure she doesn't have any ongoing injuries from chafing and stuff. If her toes are tingling, that's really good.""Well, since Atropos took out Bonesaw, Miss Medic has been just about the best surgeon in the world, so Genesis is in good hands." It was never a bad time to lay the groundwork for distracting people from realising the truth. "So, how long have you guys been a team?"Trickster scratched the back of his neck. "Just before Christmas oh-nine. It was a pretty bad time. Simurgh attack. We all got powers around the same time, and we've been bouncing from pillar to post ever since.""Damn." Brian shook his head. "You know she's dead, right? Atropos got her.""Yeah." Trickster grinned as he nodded. "Best damn thing I've seen since forever.""It was definitely up there," agreed Brian. He frowned, trying to recall the sequence of Endbringer attacks. "Late oh-nine, Simurgh … wait, that was Madison, wasn't it? Wisconsin. That's still a quarantine zone. Or it was until yesterday.""So, it's really true?" Trickster seemed to be seeking validation for something. "All the Simurgh bombs are now defused?""Well, I don't know any personally," Brian confessed. "But that's what Atropos told the Simurgh to do, and there's been stories on the news about people breaking down and crying over suddenly being free from the voices in their heads.""Yeah." Trickster nodded slowly. "I can understand that. I think—"Whatever he thought was destined to never be aired, because just then Sundancer's voice echoed from inside the van. "You see that? Your foot moved! You moved your foot!"Trickster stared at Brian, wide-eyed. "Did you hear that?"Brian grinned and offered a high-five. "Hell yes."Trickster returned it, then headed off to give his teammates the good news. Brian remained where he was, but the grin stayed on his face.Moments like this were worth
all
the crap.
<><>
Forty-Five Minutes LaterRiley"… and that should do it. All nerves showing connectivity, haptic feedback operating correctly." Riley paused. "If you're feeling any pain or discomfort, now's the time to tell me."Genesis frowned thoughtfully. "No, it all feels good.""Okay, test number two." Riley extruded a probe from her left bracer. "I'm going to count while I tap with the probe. Let me know if you hear a number but don't feel anything. One, two, three …" As she counted, she tapped her way down Genesis' left leg. On 'seventeen', she winked at Sundancer and waved the probe in midair. "Eighteen, nineteen—""Wait, I didn't feel anything on seventeen.""No, that was my bad. Seventeen." She tapped the point she'd missed, then kept going. Once she was done, she started closing the incisions she'd made, sealing them with a surgical glue of her personal devising that worked better than the commercial stuff. "Now let's do the final movement test. Left foot, toes.""Left foot, okay." Genesis wriggled the toes on that foot. They all responded."Right foot, toes.""Right foot, okay." More wriggling ensued."Left ankle.""Left ankle, okay."One joint at a time, they worked their way up Genesis' legs, confirming she had active conscious control of both limbs. Finally, Riley sat back. "Alright, then. Everything seems to be in at least minimal working order. Let's get you presentable, and take this show on the road.""Wait, you're saying I can
walk?" asked Genesis. "Just like that?""Not … exactly." Riley cleared her throat. "Your leg muscles were just about gone, and the nerve structures with them. But I've put in artificial fibres for both, for your body to build on. I could entirely replace the absent muscles, but that would take a bit longer, and feel weird until they were properly seated.""In addition, child labour laws prohibit Miss Medic from working past midnight in her cape identity," Battery added. "So even if you were willing to undergo the longer procedure, the legalities of the situation make it impossible. I
am
sorry about that, by the way."Genesis sighed. "Okay, I guess I'm going to just have to take legs that I can definitely feel with again, and can kind of move around when I'm lying down. That's definitely a step up, pun intended. But what's it going to be like when I try to get vertical?""That's what we're going to find out now." Riley and Sundancer assisted Genesis in putting her clothes back on—her newfound control of her legs came in handy there—and then they opened the rear doors of the van."Genesis!" Trickster came over, with the woman called Noelle leaning on his arm. Ballistic, Perdition, and the guy called Oliver were close behind. "How are you? Can you walk now?""Did she give you robot legs?" called out Perdition. "Because that would actually be kinda cool.""That would've taken me another three, four hours," Riley retorted. "Genesis is
not
walking right now. But she should be able to stand with assistance, and maybe totter a few steps. Tenebrae, Ballistic, if you big strong men could help her down, please? Do
not
drop her, I just finished fixing her."Brian and the very solidly built Ballistic stepped up on either side of Genesis and assisted her down out of the van. She winced as her weight settled on her feet. "Wow, I can feel
everything
under my feet. How did I ever get used to doing this the first time around?""It is amazing what the human body can get accustomed to," Riley advised her. "Trust
me on this.""Okay, then. I'll take your word for it." Genesis, propped up by the guys, took a few tentative steps. Riley watched as her knees and ankles flexed properly, but her legs were already starting to tremble by the end of it. "Okay, I'm walking, kind of. But I'd like to sit down now.""Good thing we didn't trash this yet." Oliver brought her wheelchair over.Gratefully, she subsided into it. "Oh, trust me. As soon as I'm walking properly, I am
torching
this damn thing. But for the time being, it gets to live.""I could launch it into the side of a mountain for you," offered Ballistic. "You know, once it's on fire.""I might just take you up on that." Genesis turned to Riley. "So, how do I get out of this thing for good?""Well, I've implanted artificial nerves and muscle fibres to boost what's already there," Riley reminded her. "You need to exercise and rebuild your real muscles, and reinforce the neural pathways as much as you can. I wouldn't advise jogging, not until your balance improves, but an hour of walking every day would be a really good idea.""An hour? Are you sure about that?" She wriggled her feet. "I couldn't take five steps.""Totally." Riley wasn't giving an inch, Brian had to give her that. "You can spread it through the day, but the more you push yourself, the more you'll find you can do.""I'll make sure of it," Noelle said with a grin from where she leaned against Trickster. "I'm only a bit less wobbly than she is. We can be exercise buddies."Genesis gave her a dirty look. "Why do I get the feeling you're going to be a slave driver?""Because that's what I'm gonna do?" Noelle shrugged. "We've both been given the chance to turn our lives around. Let's not waste it.""Yeah, good point." Genesis gave Riley a smile. "Thank you. I'll do my best."Riley returned it. "No problem. Glad I could help."Brian headed back to the PRT van with Riley and the two Protectorate heroes, and climbed on board. Once they were strapped in, Assault slapped the side of the van twice, and the engine started."You okay?" asked Brian as Riley took her helmet off. "You were in there for nearly an hour.""Nah, I'm fine." She gave him a grin. "She'll be walking on her own in a week. I'd put money on it.""Nice." Assault reached across and ruffled her hair. "I'm proud of you, kid.""So am I," Brian said, putting an arm around her in a side-hug. "You did good tonight.""I did, didn't I?" Riley smiled and leaned into him.
<><>
TaylorAs I headed up to bed, taking my costume elements with me, I pulled out my phone and logged onto PHO. It was time, I judged, to plant another seed.
<><>
■
PRIVATE MESSAGETo: TheRealPanaceaFrom: AtroposSubject: Hang out?Hey hey,I was thinking we could meet down at the Boardwalk tomorrow afternoon and we could just hang out for a bit. No shady favors, I promise.While we're there, I'll introduce you to the Rogues' Guild. They're pretty cool.What do you say?Atropos
■
PRIVATE MESSAGETo: ParianFrom: AtroposSubject: FYIHi,Purely for the sake of sharing information, Panacea also likes girls and is currently single.(Also, very snarky.)You know, just in case you were interested.Toodles!Atropos
■
<><>
ParianSabah stared at the message that had just popped up in her PMs as she was browsing PHO before going to bed. She read it through twice, just to make sure she hadn't misunderstood it."Well, now," she murmured as she shut down the laptop and turned off her bedside light. "Isn't
that
interesting?"
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
Saturday Midday, February 26, 2011
Glory Girl
"Okay, I'll admit that the Boardwalk is nice on a Saturday, and I've heard good things about the Rogues' Guild, but this is the first time you've ever wanted to come down and meet them." Vicky gave Amy the side-eye as they flew toward the waterfront. They were both costumed up, which their mother had insisted on. In her opinion, every public appearance that wasn't school (or some other social occasion) needed to be leveraged to improve the team's PR standing. "What's really going on here, and why didn't you want to talk about it in front of Mom?"
Amy sighed. "Before I tell you why, I need you to make two promises. First, that you won't be upset with me, and second, that you won't tell Carol. Because she will
totally
be upset with me."
"Well, that's not ominous at
all." Vicky's eyes widened with shock as something occurred to her. "Wait, are you
dating
one of them? Please tell me you're not dating Salvage. Because Mom will blow every gasket she has, and a few she doesn't, if she finds out that you are. And I won't be thrilled either."
"What?" Amy's voice was both startled and irritated. "No,
geez,
I'm not dating
anyone.
At all. I've never even
met
them, not to talk to anyway."
"Then what's going on?" Vicky hated to be in the dark about this sort of thing.
"Promise me first." Amy wasn't giving an inch.
Vicky could actually kind of respect that, even though she hated making promises about things she didn't know about. "Okay, I'll try not to freak, and I won't tell Mom, unless this is something actively harmful to you."
There was a long pause, then Amy nodded. "It's not actively harmful to me, so I guess I can live with the rest of it. I'm meeting Atropos."
"What?" Vicky was startled. "Again? I thought you weren't doing that anymore!"
She vividly recalled that first encounter in the park. The way Atropos had almost negligently taken her down and explained the facts of life to her had made a strong impression on her. After watching the video of the Slaughterhouse Nine takedown, she'd reached an even deeper awareness of how easily Atropos could have killed her, had the black-clad cape chosen to do so. Nothing she'd seen of Atropos since, including the second meeting in the park, had mitigated that impression one iota. Instead, it had set the understanding in concrete.
Fucking with Atropos, ever, in any way, is fatal.
"I've, uh, I've actually gone to meet her, and she's come to see me, a couple of times that you didn't know about," Amy confessed. "You promised to try not to freak out, remember."
"Wait." Vicky frowned. "You're not dating
her,
are you?" The idea of Amy liking girls wasn't something she'd ever considered.
"Haha, nope, not in a million years." The denial came out too sharp and strong to be faked. "I don't even really like her. She's just … really,
really
good at persuading me to do stuff that turns out to be the right thing to do, but feels really shady while I'm doing it, you know?"
"And you wanted me along to make sure she doesn't con you into doing anything against your will?" Vicky was down with that. She could say 'no' and make it stick all day long.
"Well, actually, no. She said this time there weren't any strings attached. No shady favours, she said. Just hanging out on the Boardwalk. So, I thought it might look a little less strange if we both showed up. It's not like anyone's going to expect us to try to arrest her."
Vicky snorted. "Well,
that's
true."
For all that Atropos was an unrepentant serial killer, she had a higher public approval rating than every other villain in the world, and most of the heroes. She even had a public fan club that was gathering members by the day, and traded photos taken of her. The head of this fan club was the black girl Vicky had met in the park on that fateful day; she had
signed Polaroid selfies
taken with Atropos, which nobody was
ever
going to beat.
Life in Brockton Bay was fucking
weird
sometimes.
They came in for a landing in a temporarily unoccupied spot on the Boardwalk. Vicky alighted as gently as a feather, then let Amy down onto her feet. A few people took photos, and Vicky preened a little; this was as it should be. "Okay, so when's Atropos supposed to meet you again?"
Atropos' voice came from directly behind her. "How about right now?"
Vicky whirled, startled, but Amy barely reacted. "Hi, Atropos," she said, turning around. "Couldn't resist, could you?"
"You
knew where I was gonna be, the moment Glory Girl said that," Atropos replied. "So it hardly counts as a jump-scare for you, does it?"
Vicky couldn't see the black-clad cape's face, but knew there had to be a smirk under the morph mask. "That was …
mean," she muttered, wanting to use a stronger word but unwilling to do so with so many witnesses around. Even more irritating,
everyone
was taking photos now, not just the few who had snapped pictures of her and Amy together.
"Well, maybe you'll learn not to tempt fate like that." Making a cut-off motion with her hand, Atropos raised her voice a little. "Okay, folks, nothing more to see here."
Vicky watched in aggravated surprise as the request actually
worked; the people actually stopped taking photos. They moved away, breaking up into groups of two and three, occasionally glancing back at Atropos but not intruding on her privacy anymore. "That's just bullshit," she muttered. "Why do they do what
you
tell them?"
You're a villain,
she meant.
Not a hero. Even if you did kill the Endbringers.
It was totally unfair, especially since she'd been helping people since she got her powers and hadn't killed a single person, ever.
"I'm sure you'll figure it out eventually." Atropos' voice was dry. "So, Amy, did you bring along that second present for Nilbog?"
"I did." Amy pulled a small vial out of her robes. "This should be enough for what you want. You haven't told anyone that I supplied this virus?"
In a sleight of hand move that Vicky would've sworn belonged to someone with a Mover power, Amy's hand was empty and Atropos was tucking the vial into her long-coat pocket. "Not unless you want me to. But it's probably better that we each maintain our brand, yeah? Me as the remorseless killer and you as the nice, safe, fluffy healer."
Ooh yeah, good point.
While Vicky would've liked Amy to get at least some of the credit for destroying Nilbog and the Goblin Kingdom, Atropos' observation was smack on target. If Amy became known as someone who'd created a deadly virus for Atropos to use, she would possibly gain popularity in some circles but inevitably suffer at least a moderate level of backlash against her and New Wave in others.
Mom would go ballistic, and not just because Ames has been meeting with Atropos behind our backs.
"That was basically my idea," Amy agreed, paralleling Vicky's train of thought. "Is
anyone else going to get hurt by it? Any innocents, I mean?"
"The only relatives to Jamie Rinke who are living close enough to be threatened by it don't carry the same genetic combination that makes him so vulnerable to it." Atropos sounded totally sure of herself. "They'll suffer from the equivalent of a cold for a few days, then recover. There will be zero deaths outside the Ellisburg wall."
"How do we know you're not lying?" challenged Vicky as they started walking along the Boardwalk, people giving them their space. "You could be saying that just to make her feel better."
"I could, but I'm not." Atropos took a folded sheet of paper from her pocket and handed it to Vicky. "This is a list of his relatives in the region, along with their addresses. Keep tabs on them. You'll see for yourself."
"Jesus." Vicky opened the paper and stared at the dot-matrix-printed list, then at Atropos. "How did you even know to have that …?" She stumbled verbally, lost for words.
"I'm Atropos." The dark visage gazed back at her. "It's what I do. Do you doubt me now?"
"Um … no." The sheer level of audacious bullshittery in that single action had decimated her arguments in one fell swoop. There was nothing more to be said about Ellisburg. Fully aware that Amy was covertly grinning in a 'this is what I've had to deal with' way, she scrambled for something else to say. "Um, Gallant told me that Tenebrae and Miss Medic went out to the city limits last night, on the strength of a text you sent to Miss Medic. What was that about?"
"Wait, what?" Amy's head snapped around. "Is this about the Travellers? What happened? Is Noelle okay? She was okay when I left her."
Vicky stared at Amy in her turn. "Hold the phone. What do
you
know about this? Who are the Travellers, and what've they got to do with stuff?"
"Okay, from the top," Atropos said. "The Travellers are a bunch of ex-villainous ex-Simurgh-bombs currently camped at the edge of town while they decide on their next move. They came here to ask politely if I would kill the
extremely troublesome
powers of one of their number, a pseudo-case-fifty-three called Noelle. I killed her powers, and Amy fixed her body. With me so far?"
After a moment to sort events out in her head, Vicky nodded. "Uh … yeah, I guess."
"Good." Atropos turned to Amy. "Noelle's doing just fine, but you might have noticed that one of their other members, Genesis, was in a wheelchair. I didn't ask you to heal her for two reasons: one, I was on a tight schedule; and two, you can fix paraplegia in your sleep. I'm only going to call on you for stuff you
haven't
dealt with a thousand times before. Miss Medic, however, needed the confidence boost so I mentioned the situation to her, and it got done."
"Ah," said Amy. "Okay, that makes sense. I remember wondering why you didn't ask me to help the other woman, but we
were
kind of in a hurry, I guess." If Vicky were to guess, professional pride prompted the next question. "So how good a job did she do?"
"Genesis has gone from zero use of her legs to careful walking with assistance." Atropos' voice had a note of pride in it. "She'll be walking unassisted in a week, and running in a month."
Amy blinked, her gaze going distant. "Huh. From the atrophying I saw … that's actually pretty impressive."
Vicky frowned, ready to defend Amy's capabilities. "You could've had her walking in five minutes. I've seen you do it."
"No." Amy shook her head. "That was with people who'd
recently
had an accident or disease that paralysed them. Someone who'd been in a chair nearly all their lives would have minimal muscle tone, and the nerves themselves might have degraded to uselessness. I'd literally have to add body mass, or cannibalise it from the rest of their body, to get their legs back in proper working order. And then they'd have to learn how to walk, all over again. Unassisted walking in a week is damn good."
"Okay, if you say so." Vicky was absolutely
not
going to argue recovery times with Amy; that was a losing game from the start. However, something Atropos had said had gotten her attention, so she swung her attention back to the black-clad cape. "But who even gave you permission to 'call on' my sister for
anything? Whatever hold you might've had over her from our first fight, you can't keep just yanking her chain anytime you want."
Atropos chuckled. "First, that wasn't a fight. That was a lesson. Second, I called in that marker exactly once. Since then, I've just asked. She's had the choice to say yes or no. I'm pleased to say she's said yes each time, and Brockton Bay is the better for it."
Right then, Vicky made a mental note to ask Amy about all the times Atropos had called on her, and why. "Okay, so how is healing a villain case fifty-three good for Brockton Bay?"
"Noelle's power was out of control." Atropos may as well have been reading the news, for all the drama she put into the words. "Anytime someone touched her, she spawned a twisted evil clone of them that had all the memories of the original, and hated everything they held dear. Clones of capes got variations on the powers of the original. She was also getting literally monstrous. Much bigger, and she would've been eating people whole and spitting out clones of them ad infinitum.
Not
something I needed or wanted in or near Brockton Bay."
"So why didn't you just kill her?" Vicky tried to keep the bitterness out of her tone, but it wasn't easy. "That's your go-to, isn't it? Murder?"
"Oh, it totally is," agreed Atropos, neatly taking the wind out of her sails. "And I could've. But the Travellers have useful abilities, and now that Noelle and Genesis have had their personal issues rendered null and void, there's a very real chance they'll join in on the revamping efforts in the city. Every little bit counts."
Amy laughed out loud, sounding delighted. "And because you got the cutest Ward since Vista to heal Genesis, they're a lot more likely to trust the Protectorate and PRT to let them actually do their thing here in Brockton Bay. That's
sneaky.
I like it."
"And the brunette in the front row wins first prize." Atropos gestured. "Here we are. The Rogues' Guild. Either of you guys met them before?"
"Not
really," Vicky admitted, looking at the stall with the dolls, the guy in power armour, the dancing woman with the ribbons, and the others. "I've seen them while flying over, but that's about it. Ames?"
Amy shook her head. "No, but they sound interesting."
"Come on," said Atropos. "I'll introduce you."
<><>
Panacea
It was weird, but Amy was enjoying Atropos' company more than she had on previous occasions. She wasn't sure if it was because the Boardwalk was a nice place to be, or because she'd gotten feedback on the job she'd done on Noelle. It hadn't been easy, but she was quite proud of the result.
If anything was irritating her, it was Vicky's attempts to pick at Atropos' impervious calm. She'd been there herself; Atropos had all the answers, and that was all there was to that. Watching Vicky bash her head against the same stone wall was both amusing and annoying. Why couldn't her sister just accept that she'd lost the argument and move on?
It was, however, nice to get the full detail on why dealing with Noelle had been such a big deal; she'd caught hints, but twisted clones who hated everything she held dear?
Hell nope, with an extra helping of 'fuck that' on top.
She knew what her powers were capable of. Having someone who actively hated humanity in charge of those powers … a shiver went down her spine. If that happened, they could kiss most of the United States goodbye, at the very least.
But that threat was done with. And now here, today, she was going to meet some people whom Atropos had publicly approved of. Moving forward, she followed Atropos toward the rogue capes.
"Hi, Salvage," Atropos greeted the first one they came to; a man in hulking power armour, wearing a train conductor's cap and goggles. He was seated on a sturdy-looking metal folding chair, behind an equally sturdy-looking table. On the table, it seemed he was building toy cars and locomotives and aeroplanes out of scrap metal, polishing them on a wheel until they were safe to play with. "How's things going?"
"Pretty damn good, actually." Salvage offered Atropos a smile. "You were right about the fund-raiser. People know about us now, and bring their kids around. Thanks for bein' there for us."
"Not a problem." Atropos sounded pleased. "You being here helped me out, so I'm happy to help you out. I just thought I might introduce you to Panacea. She's helped me out a couple of times, too."
Amy wondered why Atropos hadn't mentioned Vicky, but then she noticed that her sister had already moved along and was watching the cat-costumed girl with the ribbons swirling around her; probably trying to see how it was done. "Hi," she said belatedly. "I'm pleased to meet you."
"Hey, nice to meet you too." One oversized metal hand extended across the table, and she gingerly shook it. It was definitely metal, not disguised biological material, and it made her wonder how much of him
was
metal.
She moved along with Atropos to Parian's stall. The 'doll cape', as some called her, was a known quantity in Brockton Bay. She augmented her income from her market stall with animated figures at mall openings and the like, but Amy had never actually
met
her before.
"Hi," said Atropos briskly. "Parian, meet Panacea. Panacea, Parian. You're both pretty cool, so I thought I'd introduce you."
"Oh." The voice was soft and sweet, for all that it came from behind a white mask featuring a classical doll's face. "Hello. I … I suppose I never expected a real superhero like you to come to my stall like this." At her elbow, needles threaded themselves, then started working at breakneck speed on a doll base.
Amy found the speed and precision of the doll construction fascinating, but she also felt it necessary to correct the record. "I'm a hero, sure, but I don't go out and beat up bad guys like everyone else. I'm the one who heals them afterward."
"You shouldn't put yourself down like that," Parian said, but not harshly. From the tone of her voice, she'd had her share of put-downs, probably because of her own choices in life. "You save lives. And if Atropos calls you cool, then you're cool."
It was kind of weird to realise that praise from Atropos
was
actually hard to come by. The girl was as ruthless in her descriptions of people as she was in her treatment of bad guys. "So, uh, what did
you
do that Atropos thought was cool?"
Parian seemed to think for a moment. "I, um … I suppose I took in Salvage and Bastet, and we formed the Rogues' Guild. They needed help and I helped them, which on a, uh, limited income wasn't easy, but it all worked out in the end." She gestured to the left and right. "But anyone could've done that, really." The doll at her elbow was quite a ways toward completion, managing to look like a stop-motion display in real time.
"Anyone probably could've," Amy felt compelled to say. This was something she saw a lot of. People who
could
do something to help those less fortunate, and … didn't. "But you're the one who did. That's actually pretty brave of you."
"Yes, well." Parian nodded toward Atropos, who'd moved several steps away. "We really got our start because of the stimulus cards. That lifted our collective budget out of the 'are we going to do this thing or eat?' dilemma, and gave us some breathing room. And now most of us have good jobs, and we owe it to the Rogues' Guild, and to Atropos."
It was a sobering realisation to Amy that, while she and Vicky hadn't really faced a change of circumstance due to Atropos' actions, many people across Brockton Bay
had.
Everyone was getting a boost, and it was people at the lowest strata of society who were feeling it the most. She tried to think back to the last time she'd seen a homeless person or a panhandler, and she couldn't.
"Yeah, I kind of owe Atropos a bit myself," she confided. "Not the same level of issues that you did, of course, but she gave me some advice and helped me out when I most needed it, and yeah, it really turned out well."
Parian's voice held a smile. "She's kind of like that. I'd be the last to say she's sweet, exactly, but she knows
exactly
how to help, and when to step back."
Amy had to laugh. "You're right there. That's her in a nutshell." She paused. "So anyway, what about you? I mean, you know about my life. That's kind of a thing when it comes to being an open cape. But is doll-making what you want to do for the rest of your life?"
"Well, I like making the dolls." Parian took the one that had been assembling itself; floating scissors started tidying it up. "But I also want to get into fashion design. It's been a dream of mine for a while now."
"Fashion design." Amy rolled the phrase around in her mouth. "That actually sounds pretty cool. Would you design normal clothes, costumes for capes, or both?"
Parian chuckled, a pretty sound. "I suspect designing cape costumes would lead to dramas with secret identities and having to cut and stitch things like Kevlar, not to mention other costume accessories. Normal clothing would probably suit me better for the time being."
"Hah, yeah." Amy rolled her eyes. "Imagine becoming known as the best villain costumer on the east coast. Nobody would be able to park on the street for all the PRT surveillance vans."
This time, Parian laughed. "Okay, that's legitimately funny. Here, this is yours." She handed over the doll she'd been working on since Amy arrived.
Taking it, Amy looked properly at it for the first time, and realised it was a near-perfect rendition of her, in costume, in miniature. Wonderingly, she found she could push back the hood and pull down the scarf, as she'd already done with her real costume, to reveal frizzy brown threads for hair, and even the suggestion of freckles across the doll's nose. "Wow …" she breathed. "I can't take this. It's gotta be worth—" Putting it down, she let it go, but couldn't bring herself to take her hands away.
"It's yours," Parian said flatly. "I want you to have it." Reaching across the table, she closed Amy's hands around the doll again.
"But you can't just give away dolls to superheroes just because they
are
superheroes," Amy protested.
"I don't." Parian leaned closer. "I haven't given one to Atropos, even though I owe her more than I can ever repay. And I haven't given one to Glory Girl. I'm giving one to
you. Because you're talking to me like a person, not like just some doll-making machine. And because …" Her voice trailed off to a near-whisper.
"What?" Amy leaned forward as well.
Parian took a deep breath. "I think you're cute," she said quietly.
"Oh." Amy felt a blush spreading across her cheeks. "Um."
"S-sorry, I … I shouldn't have … forget I said—" Parian began to stutter, her words falling over themselves. "You can keep the doll, I—"
Amy took a deep breath. "It's okay." And it really was, not least because of the boost in self-confidence that associating with Atropos had given her. After rebuilding Bonesaw into a productive member of cape society and returning whatever Sveta and Noelle had been back to their human forms, an awkward pass was
nothing.
Well, not 'nothing', exactly. It was … something. Something to think about, to consider. And definitely not something to knock back out of hand. Parian was nice to talk to, and it wasn't like Amy had any
other
girls striving to get her attention.
"It's okay?" Parian sounded dubious. Amy connected the dots almost immediately; Parian had been rejected because of her preferences before.
Well, not today.
"It's totally okay," Amy assured her. "I love the doll. Vicky and my cousins are going to be so damn jealous." She paused. "And, um … do you have a number I can maybe call you on? So we can chat?"
"Um, um, sure!" A business card flew up out of the handbag that was hanging off the back of the stall, and Parian wrote a number on the back of it. When Amy took it, she found a cute little smiley appended to the end, and she smiled in return.
"Thanks for the doll," she said, tucking the card away securely. "It's amazing. You've got a real talent."
Parian nodded. "You're welcome," she said in a half-whisper.
Still clutching the doll, Amy stepped away from the stand. Atropos, clearly looking in her direction, gave her what she chose to take as an approving nod.
"Holy crap, that's gorgeous!" Vicky came back from where she'd been chatting with the girl in the dragon costume. "How much did that set you back?"
Amy grinned. "Wouldn't you like to know?"
Relevant Side-Story
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
Saturday Afternoon, February 26, 2011Brockton Bay Betterment Committee HeadquartersDannyThe table wasn't Tinkertech, but it didn't have to be. It had a complete map of Brockton Bay set into the surface, with an LCD screen underneath. Data was streaming into the room from all over the city, showing each of the road crews standing ready to roll. Danny held a tablet showing the same map, allowing him to zoom in on each area and even call up camera views if need be.He didn't need them.As the clock ticked toward three PM, the time that had been chosen for the start, he could
feel
it all. Every person, every machine, even the road surface under the tyres and treads of the earthmovers. All of it. And he was the one controlling the nerve centre of the entire operation.Taylor and Cherie were there, standing behind the operational personnel; Taylor because she was the architect of the whole thing, and Cherie because she'd done her part as well. Of course, nobody but Danny knew that part.As far as everyone in the room knew, Taylor was his daughter and Cherie was her best friend, and nobody had a problem with them being in the room at the start of the operation. Later on, when it got busy, would be a different matter. But for now, it was okay.As it was, they were keeping back out of the way. Cherie was examining the table-map with pure fascination, and Taylor was looking at the wall-screens showing the camera views. Danny shared a nod with Taylor and a smile with Cherie, all without losing track of the mass of people ready to break ground at his word.A discordant note broke through to him. "Hm." He tapped at the tablet, then zoomed in on a section. The earpiece he was wearing would transmit his voice to whoever he selected, as well as their immediate foreman; he tapped the icon indicating a single front-end loader. "This is Danny Hebert. Pull Loader Seventeen A from the line and send it in for repairs. It's got a faulty transmission. Roll out a backup loader."On the wall-screen, a single loader trundled out of formation and up onto a flatbed truck. Just before the driver shut the engine down, there was a grinding noise audible through his earpiece, and smoke rose from somewhere within. The driver hit the kill-switch, then climbed down from the stricken machine, waving to the repair crews. It was their baby now.Several people around the table were staring at Danny. It wasn't hard to divine their thoughts.
How did he know?Cutting the transmission, he looked at the inquiring faces. "Long practice." It wasn't that at all, of course, but it was a convenient lie.The new loader rolled into place with barely a minute to go. Danny sighed and hit the transmit-to-all icon. He hadn't wanted to do this, but even Kurt and Lacey had insisted."Attention, all," he said. "This is Danny Hebert. Like most of you, I was born in Brockton Bay, and I grew up here. For the longest time, we've seen it go downhill. Well, today we stop that slide. Today, we start to turn it around. Together, whether we were born here or came in from outside, we're going to fix what's wrong with our city and rebuild it stronger than ever before."He paused and took a breath, glancing at Taylor. She grinned back at him, no doubt fully aware of what he was going to say next."We all know where the money is coming from to do all this. But without us, without
you, the money is useless. Without willing hands and a strong back, all the money in the world can do nothing. So, what happens next is up to you. Fixing Brockton Bay, fixing our city, is your job. We have the tools. We have the materials."He watched the clock as the hands ticked over the last few seconds."Let's get to work."
<><>
TaylorAs Dad pulled out a chair and sat down, I strolled over and leaned against the table next to him. "Nice speech. Been practicing?"He snorted and shook his head. "Hardly. I've been too busy making sure all the ducks were in the appropriate rows." He leaned forward and lowered his voice. "Though the other thing is
astonishingly
handy, I have to say. So, thank you for that."I shrugged. "Barely had to do anything. We just had to explain the facts of life, that's all."He raised his eyebrows. "She said it threatened her with physical violence.""The facts of life being that if she didn't play ball, there would be physical violence." I let a smirk creep onto my lips."I see." He shook his head in amusement. "An offer she couldn't refuse, huh?""Oh, she could refuse it. It just wouldn't have been wise."He became more serious. "Still, I'm not totally comfortable with coercion by threats like that, especially when it's not totally necessary.""Dad." I stood up from the table. "Walk with me a second?"He paused, apparently ensuring that the combined operations across the city were proceeding apace, and nodded. Getting up from the chair, he followed me out into the corridor. Cherie stayed in the room, gazing at the progress reports popping up here and there on the table.Once the door closed behind us, he looked at me. "Talk to me.""Okay, then. Powers and the shards that bestow them? They're not here for our benefit. They're here for
theirs.
In a very real way, they're designed to test us to near-destruction while harvesting data from that use for their own ends. If Administration had attached to you in the normal course of events, you probably would've ended up estranged from humanity, controlling a horde of rats. There's
always
a catch."His head came up at that. "She said you—your power—ordered her not to use 'monkey-paw bullshit'. How did you manage that?"I grinned. "My power isn't part of their collection. It was thrown in by something else to be a joker in the deck, to disrupt the whole damn operation here on Bet. You've got Administration, I've got Ending. He can be very … persuasive.""She prefers 'Queen Administrator'," he observed dryly.I shrugged. "Don't care. The tee-ell-dee-are is that the normal run of shards give powers that pretend to be useful in solving the problem at hand, but in the long run only make it worse. So don't waste your energy being sorry for Her Highness the Grand Poohbah of Administration. She came to this planet intending to screw over whoever she attached to." I put on an exaggerated sad-face. "Whoops.""Jesus," he muttered. "So, every cape out there except us two …""Well, there are certain exceptions, but that's a topic for another day. Ignoring those ones, sure. They're all screwed up in some way. Take Cherie, for instance. Do you think her powers made her life better
before
she ended up with us, even ignoring the shit her father dumped in her head?""Okay, right, yeah, good point." He took a deep breath. "Message received, loud and clear. Thank you."I gave him a grin and opened the door back into the operations room. "My genuine pleasure, Dad. Go fix the city."He smiled right back. "I'll do that. Though I might be late home tonight.""We'll leave something in the oven for you.""I knew there was a reason I keep you around."
<><>
BoardwalkSalvage"Hello."Sal looked up from his latest creation, an old-fashioned steam locomotive with moving parts that included connecting rods and coupling rods, to see a bunch of teenagers standing in front of his table. They all wore Goth-style dark clothing and black makeup, though there was a lack of weird piercings."Hi," he replied, trying to look friendly and harmless. He didn't get as many sales as Parian, mainly because his whole demeanour tended to scare the kids, no matter how softly he talked. Still, he had to try. "Can I help you with something?""You enjoy the favour of Atropos," said the pretty redhead who seemed to be their spokesperson. "There are children in this city without toys, so we will buy the ones you make and spread the beneficence of Our Lady in Darkness.""Ah." Now that he was paying proper attention, he could see the tiny silver shears they were wearing as ornaments, either as necklaces or as earrings.
Why am I not surprised she has a cult?
"Uh, sure." Reaching down behind the table, he lifted up the box he'd already filled with unsold toys. It was heavy, but he was strong. "How many do you want?"Reaching into her purse—black, of course, with a skull on it—she produced a wad of bills. Others in the group added their contributions, and she slapped the lot down on the table. "Everything that will buy."Well, all
right
then.
"Ladies," he said, taking up the cash and starting to count through it. "You have a deal."
<><>
Dallon HouseholdPanacea"Wow. I mean,
wow." Crystal held the doll carefully, turning it over in her hands. "Parian is really,
really
good. And she made this in just a few minutes?""While I was talking to her," Amy confirmed. "She wasn't even looking. It was amazing.""So, why'd you even ask for a doll of yourself?" Eric smirked. "That's something I'd expect Vicky to do, not you.""Hey!" protested Vicky. "I'm not
that
self-centred!""Sorry, cuz, but you kind of are," Crystal said gently. "But we love you for it.""May I?" asked Aunt Sarah. When Crystal handed the doll over, she examined it with as much care as Crystal had. "This is really amazing craftmanship. It's definitely not a child's toy. Parian has a real talent."Amy nodded. "That's what I said.""I hope you didn't short-change her on it," Carol noted. "We want to encourage this sort of thing."Amy smiled. "I paid her exactly what she asked for it." Seeking to change the subject before someone asked precisely what that was, she added, "But the rest of the Rogues' Guild were pretty cool too. Salvage takes scrap metal and makes stuff out of it, like
actual
toys.""Yeah," Vicky said. "And Bastet does this swirly dance with ribbons and other stuff, Spitfire dresses in a dragon costume and, well, spits fire, and Oracle answers questions. But get this: she dresses like she's trying to cosplay Atropos, only not as edgy. Hat, mask, and the
cutest
little coat and tie and stuff.""Well, they certainly sound interesting." Uncle Neil took the doll next, handling it gingerly. "I might get one of these done for my sister. She'll love it.""So, what's this I hear about how Atropos was down on the Boardwalk at the same time, and that you two were talking to her?" asked Carol, her brows drawing down. "Apparently, the photos are all over social media." Unspoken were the words,
you'd better not have done anything to mess with the good name of New Wave.Vicky jumped in before Amy could think of what to say. "We were there, she was there. She actually introduced us to the Rogues' Guild. They apparently know each other.""Well,
duh," Eric said. "She saved them from Bastard Son that one time, remember? And then they showed up to the fundraiser where she had that epic swordfight with Mouse Protector.""So, what did you talk about?" Carol wasn't letting go of that thread. "I know enough about her to be aware this wasn't a chance meeting on her part. Why did she seek you out?""Um." Amy glanced helplessly at Vicky, then back at Carol. "Just … um … stuff. She wasn't mean or anything. Asked how we were. Made sure Vicky knew she didn't hold a grudge about the thing in the park that time. Introduced us to the Rogues' Guild. No threats, not even subtle ones. She was pretty chill.""Victoria?" Carol turned her attention to her biological daughter."What Ames said." Vicky shrugged. "Maybe she thought we were going to try to harass them or something, and she was making sure we didn't. Because you know, some heroes are assholes like that.""Language." Carol spoke the word without heat. "But you're right. If she has some kind of proprietary interest in them, then it's a good idea to leave them alone, especially as they seem to be harmless.""Well, she
does
aggressively promote anything that's good for Brockton Bay," Mark offered. "A bunch of capes making toys and other products, earning money for being entertaining, when they might otherwise end up as unemployed criminals? I think that fits the description pretty well.""I have no problem with things being good for Brockton Bay, or even with Atropos promoting the idea." Carol looked around at the rest of New Wave. "My issue lies with her methods. Murder is one of the things every hero should stand against.""I agree with you," Aunt Sarah said. "I really do. And I
want
to agree that something should be done about it. But … seriously, Carol.
She killed the Simurgh.
And while the PRT hasn't yet confirmed it, the word online is that she's also taken out the other two Endbringers. You can't exactly deny that
they, at least, deserved it.""Well, no, of course they did." Carol evidently knew when to not argue particular points. "But you were there for Lung. You
saw
what she did to him.""I did." Sarah nodded. "It was horrific. But he was slated for the Birdcage,
and
she'd warned him to get out of town or surrender. Just like she did with the other three. He had options. He just chose not to take them."Amy nodded, along with everyone except Carol. It was self-evident now (even if it hadn't been for some people then) that a warning from Atropos was the equivalent of Holy Writ, but for
everyone. Ignoring two warnings was for the terminally stupid, the insanely arrogant, or the actively suicidal."And let's be real here," Uncle Neil said. "What happened to Kaiser was just plain karma. All of them, really. Sorry for the language, Carol, but they've been fucking around for years, and they finally found out."This argument was threatening to go in circles, so Amy caught Vicky's eye. "I'm just going to lie down for a bit," she murmured."Sure," Vicky replied with a smirk. "Go snuggle with your dolly." Retrieving the doll, she passed it to Amy.Making sure Carol wasn't watching, Amy poked her tongue out at Vicky, which made Eric and Crystal grin. Then she headed up to her room.Once she was alone, she removed her costume and hung it up, then flopped onto her bed. The next few minutes passed with her lying inert, staring at the ceiling.
Vicky was right. Carol would
freak
if she learned even half of what we're doing.Digging in her jeans pocket, she took out the card and looked at it, turning it over several times. The front had a phone number, which was different to the one on the back. Finally, she took out her phone and woke it up. The numbers lit up on the screen one at a time, until she had just the call icon to go.She wavered, second-guessing herself. This was a huge step. She'd never actually gotten someone's number before, much less
called
it.Holding up the doll in front of her, she stared at it.
She made a beautiful thing, just for me.Taking a deep breath, she tapped the icon.The phone rang. Once, twice. She nearly cancelled the call."Hello?" It was the same soft, gentle voice from the Boardwalk."Hi, it's me. Panacea. Amy.""Oh. Oh, wow. I was wondering if you would call."Amy's giggle was more a release of tension than anything else. "I was wondering that, too.""It's really nice to hear from you."Rolling onto her side, Amy smiled. "It's nice to hear your voice, too. So, tell me about fashion."
<><>
Hebert HouseholdAtropos"I won't take very long, this time." Mask and hat in hand, I gave Cherie a smile. "Maybe half an hour, tops. The lasagna shouldn't require any attention, but if I take longer than that, keep an eye on it and make sure it doesn't burn.""Oh, totally," she assured me. "I love your lasagna. There's no way I'm letting
that
burn. And thank you."I wasn't quite sure what she was referring to. "For what?""The responsibility." She waved her hands vaguely in the air. "Not just being trusted to be home alone, but being trusted to
do
something. Treating me as a person, not just a chattel.""Well, look at you." I grinned. "Someone's
improving their vocabulary."She wrinkled her nose at me. "Says the girl who grew up knowing words like that.""Eh, true." I gave her a quick hug, which she reciprocated. "I'm very proud of you. I want you to understand that. You're really taking your remedial classes seriously.""Yeah, well." She quirked a grimace with one corner of her mouth. "I went into it convinced I knew everything I needed to know. The more I learn, the more I realise I just don't know.""Welcome to the paradox of academia." I pulled on the mask, then the hat went on top. "When we get back, you can pick whatever movie we're going to watch first."Her eyes lit up. "Ooooh."
<><>
Trickster"We're getting low on food, guys." Oliver put the pot in the middle of the table. Savoury smells wafted out from it, teasing Francis' nostrils. "Two more days and we're going to have to decide what we're doing.""I think we should stay." Jess was still sitting in her wheelchair, although she'd spent a couple of hours, on and off, using it as a walker. "Atropos cared enough to get the PRT to bring Miss Medic out to fix my spine. Nobody ever did that for us before.""Yeah, but what'll we do for cash?" Luke dug into the pot and filled his bowl. "Hero for pay, that's where the big money is. Because there's no way in hell I'm going to be doing crime anywhere
near
this town, and nobody in Bet pays their heroes unless they're Protectorate, and they don't get all that much anyway. So, we go back to Aleph. Instant monetisation, cha-ching!"Francis frowned as he filled Noelle's bowl and then his. "Not so sure that's a great idea.""Okay, this is different." Cody waited until he was finished, then borrowed the ladle. "Used to be, you were all gung-ho about going back to Aleph. What changed?""No, I was gung-ho about helping Noelle with her problems," Francis corrected him. "Everything else was secondary.
Everything.
Even stuff I should've been paying attention to. But since then, I've had time to think about it. We've been gone what, fifteen months? What if they've declared us dead?""Actually, that's a point," Jess agreed. "What if their Madison's been quarantined the same way it was here on Bet?""Exactly." Francis gestured with his fork. "Going back now could draw a whole lot of unwelcome attention. It's for damn sure we won't be able to simply step back into our old lives."Noelle looked at Luke. "And that'll mean a
ton
of scrutiny just when you're trying to keep a low profile and kick off your superhero career.""And if some of us decide to stay," Marissa added, "the authorities will be asking the people who go very awkward questions about what happened to them. 'They decided not to come back' might not cut it.""Goddamn it, Krouse," Luke muttered grumpily. "Why couldn't you just stick to being wrong?""I don't know." Noelle put her arm through Francis'. "I kinda like the new him.""So, what
are
we going to do?" asked Oliver.Francis had been thinking about that. "Tomorrow, we'll drive into Brockton Bay and apply for work with the Betterment Committee. That'll give us a regular income and the chance to sleep under an actual roof. And those of us without a relevant power can take the training courses they're offering, and just work like everyone else. Show of hands, all in favour?" He raised his own hand.Noelle's went up immediately, followed by Cody's and Marissa's. Oliver raised his hand a moment later, then Jess did as well. Everyone looked at Luke, who rolled his eyes. "I still think being a hero for pay is a boss idea, but okay. Let's go work for the man." His hand finally rose into the air.Francis smiled. "Thanks, guys. I hope this works out. If it doesn't, we can always ask Atropos for a ticket home.""You really think she can pull that off?" asked Cody.Jess snorted derisively. "With everything else she's done, do you really want to bet she can't?"Cody considered that. "Good point."
<><>
Director Emily PiggotThe helicopter flared as it came in for a landing on the helipad at Ellisburg Base. A moment later, the wheels touched down, a sensation so familiar to Emily that she didn't consciously register it anymore. All she knew was that it was time to divest herself of the helmet with its built-in headset and climb out of the chopper.Keeping her head down—she
knew
the blades were well above her head, but she also knew a wind gust at the wrong moment could flick them downward, with horrific results—she moved away from the helicopter, to where Major Holden was standing alongside Atropos herself. Holden straightened to attention and saluted, while Atropos merely nodded. The salute was required by regulations, while Atropos had no obligation to even acknowledge her presence.As Emily was no longer a serving officer, and had no cover to boot, she didn't return the salute. "Major," she said instead. "Atropos. I was worried I might be late. We ran into headwinds."
Why haven't you already done it?
she didn't quite ask."I knew you'd be here on time." Atropos might as well have been discussing the weather. "Nilbog still has a minute or so to announce his surrender. I figured I'd wait until you arrived before I went in.""I only let a few personnel know I'd even be here." Emily looked at her narrowly. "Who talked?"Atropos' tone was unruffled. "Nobody. I
know
you, and this is personal. There's no way you could stay away." She glanced sideways at Holden. "Major, the time?"Major Holden checked his military-issue timepiece. "Sixteen forty-three, ma'am.""And has Nilbog indicated in any way that he would like to surrender to PRT forces?" Atropos' tone was oddly formal, while she asked a question that everyone knew the answer to."No, ma'am, he has not." Holden's voice, on the other hand, was filled with quiet satisfaction."Well, then. He's had his twenty-four hours." One of Atropos' hands had been hidden behind her long-coat, and now she lifted what was in it—a large and very sharp-looking axe—to rest on her shoulder. "Time to go explain why he should've surrendered.""Wait." Emily stared at the axe. "Is that …?""Hatchet Face's axe. Yeah." She was
certain
Atropos was grinning behind the mask. "It's amazing how many problems cease to
be
problems when you apply a really sharp piece of steel to the right point." Raising her free hand, she snapped her fingers. Emily was entirely unsurprised when she vanished."We have screens set up in the command hut, ma'am. If you will accompany me?"Emily was going to
savour
this. "Lead the way, Major."
<><>
AtroposThe moment I appeared in the Goblin Kingdom—right in the middle of a crowd of the little menaces—I threw the vial I'd palmed to the ground. It shattered, and the fumes went in all directions. Then I drew my pistol and shot three of them, to incentivise the rest to scatter and pass on the good news to their brethren (and sistren, I guess).One didn't get the message. Bigger and bulkier than his fellows, he loomed toward me. I didn't hesitate; holstering the pistol, I let him have it in the centre of his face with the axe. Whatever thought processes were propelling him, having several inches of razor-sharp steel intruding on his brain did them no good at all.The goblins I'd (temporarily) spared were running in all directions, shrieking words that could have been 'Intruder!' and 'Alarm' at the top of their lungs. I wasn't listening, mainly because I had earplugs in. For this situation, I wasn't using a suppressor, and my good friend Mr Pump Action Shotgun was going to have a chance to come out and play, none of which would be good for the ears.Within my head, the threatscape was drawing itself up nicely. Wherever the alarm goblins went, they knew about me and wanted to hurt me. Not as fanatically as they would've without the first virus in their systems, so I wouldn't be overwhelmed, but they still fully intended to perform many indignities on my body, some while I was still alive. Then I would be fed into the spawning monsters, to spit out new goblins for the Kingdom. Of course, the spawning monsters were currently inert, incapable of producing so much as a malevolent fruit fly, but Nilbog was not going to know this until he got the word and sent orders for them to produce enough warriors to murder me fifty times over.As I made my way toward the Goblin Kingdom's seat of government (so to speak), the first creatures to respond to the alarm call came at me. I shot two with the pistol, then changed out for the shotgun and blew the head off of a third. There was a fourth that looked like the offspring of a minotaur and a clownfish, that had bony plates that made him bulletproof. Or at least, he thought he was until I put a twelve-gauge slug between his teeth and blew out the back of his head.Here was where the lack of long-distance communication worked in my favour. While Nilbog could see through the eyes and hear through the ears of his creations, he could not control or command them that way. Normally, this would not be an issue, but they didn't know for a fact that he knew about me, so one of the little snitches was running directly toward the boss, to tell him what was going on, and to get orders.And, of course, taking the virus with him.They came at me in disorganised waves, attacking from concealment or even jumping off roofs to get to me. It might have even worked if I hadn't known exactly where they were and what they intended. Some of those little bastards were really good at hiding, but it didn't help them when I put a shotgun shell through the drywall they were skulking behind, and into their vital organs.I had extra ammo that I'd requisitioned from Major Holden; even though I conserved it where I could, that wasn't always possible. Some of the goblinoids I skewered with the shears, others I hacked apart with the axe, but most of them I shot. Director Piggot wanted blood? She'd get blood.There were no live goblins behind me, either dead at my hand or from the virus, when I kicked open the doors leading into Nilbog's throne room. I used the last two shells from the shotgun to take out the two critters that had been waiting in ambush on either side of the doors—seriously, I didn't even need my power for that—then holstered it and pulled my pistol and shears. The axe was slung in its holder across my back, but I didn't bother with it.Eight mutated monsters, the cream of Nilbog's twisted crop, came at me. I dodged bone darts, sprays of acid, snapping fangs and razor claws. While Nilbog himself—or rather, his homunculus—gibbered on the sagging throne, I dismantled his bodyguards. Larger and tougher than the norm, these ones had taken longer to succumb to the virus than most, but even now it was weakening them.Five of them I shot to death, though it emptied the magazine of the pistol to do so. The other three went down to slashes of my shears, though the last of them was already dying on its feet. I stood from its body and faced the last living inhabitant of the Goblin Kingdom. His breath was already thickening as the virus attacked his lungs and heart from within, his own body slowly strangling him. Underground, because he shared an umbilical with this creature, the real Jamie Rinke would be suffering the same fate."I warned you. You didn't surrender." Changing magazines, I chambered a round and fired a single shot into his forehead, just as his last breath rattled to a halt.Then I holstered the pistol and sheathed the shears. Climbing onto the throne, I took the axe out of its holder and swung it sideways once, twice, three times. Finally, the head rolled free onto the blood-streaked ground, and I stepped down off the throne.I didn't trust the straggly hair not to pull out at the roots, so I took a cloth bag from my pocket and nudged the head into it. Putting the axe back into its holder, I set up the new jump while my hands were out of sight of the camera. The teleport took hold, and the charnel-house of the throne room was replaced with the relatively clean (if dusty) Ellisburg Base camp.The door to the command hut opened and Emily Piggot emerged. Moving carefully, she descended the steps and made her way toward where I waited. Silently, I held out the bag to her. She took it and opened it to peer inside. The twisted, dead face of Nilbog looked back at her. Some would have been horrified; others, repulsed.Emily Piggot smiled.When she raised her eyes to my face, I saw they were wet with tears she would not shed until she was in private. "Thank you, Atropos," she said, and held out her hand.I shook it. Her grip was still strong, after all these years out of uniform. "You're welcome."She looked into the bag again. "God
damn,
this is a good day.""What are you going to do with Ellisburg, now that everything in there is dead?" I asked."Seal it in," she said, with a jut of her chin. "Lock down everything in there under six feet of concrete and steel. If he left anything behind, it'll have to dig its way out through that."I nodded. "That should work. Well, I'll see you around. Toodles!"Right on cue, the teleport portal formed, and I stepped backward into it.Cherie sat up from the sofa, a book in her hands. "So, how'd it go?"I looked down at the blood decorating my boots. "Well, he's definitely dead. I'll just go shower and change, and wipe these down. Have you thought about what movie you want to watch first?"She grinned and nodded. "Man of the House, with Sylvester Stallone. Some of the kids in my class say it's really funny.""It's all of that." I headed for the stairs. "Check on the lasagna while I'm cleaning up?""I can totally do that."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
Relevant Side-Story
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♦ Topic: The King is Dead, Woo!In: Boards ► Brockton Bay ► New Capes ► Atropos
Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me) (Verified Dethpicable)Posted On Feb 27th 2011:
Well, hello to the wonderful people of Brockton Bay. Yes, that's you!
Posting again at midnight, because traditions are fun.
So, yesterday was a productive day. I got to introduce some people I knew to other people I knew (you know who you are) and I'm pleased to say everyone got along well. It's nice when everyone gets along, you know?
I also got to watch the start of the Brockton Bay comprehensive infrastructure upgrade plan. It got off well, with no hitches or delays to be seen, all due to the exemplary work of the Betterment Committee chairman and his diligent committee members. I'm totally proud of everyone involved, from the guy at the top all the way down to the lowliest grunt shoveling dirt (you rock, dude!).
Then I rounded out my evening with a little light exercise. You see, our very own PRT Director Piggot arranged with me on Friday that I would deal with Nilbog in my own inimitable fashion. I decided that it wouldn't be fair if I didn't at least give him warning, so I went into Ellisburg and did exactly that. The footage of my little stroll through the Goblin Kingdom, courtesy of a PRT supplied body camera, can be found
[here].
Unfortunately for his future prospects (such as breathing), Nilbog decided to decline my generous offer (surrender to the PRT or die) and so I went back on Saturday afternoon. It got a little energetic, but exercise is good for the body and mind. Also courtesy of the PRT, the footage of Nilbog's death can be found
[here].
Rumors that the footage has been set to Ride of the Valkyries and played on loop in the PRT headquarters are possibly false. The other rumor, that they've turned it into a drinking game, is almost certainly untrue. Nobody can handle that much alcohol.
In case anyone is wondering why I went and did this—it's not like Nilbog was threatening Brockton Bay, after all—we will be getting ten percent of the Ellisburg budget for the next ten years, courtesy of Director Piggot. Also, she asked politely.
On to other messages.
To the Fallen: you are very close to doing an extremely stupid thing. Yes, I know you're all butt-hurt that your personal apocalyptic monsters have been Ended. They were a threat. I removed them. If you become a threat, I will remove you as well. It's kind of my thing.
Well, don't say you weren't warned.
Anyway, to the rest of you wonderful people, have a great Sunday, and just remember that the sound of roadworks outside your window is the sound of a better tomorrow.
Toodles!
(Showing page 1 of 93)
►Bagrat
(Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)
Replied On Feb 27th 2011:And we have another Atropos post.Just when we thought our own personal angel of death might be mellowing out and settling down a little, this happens. Things are so peaceful in Brockton Bay these days that it's almost possible to forget how we got to this point, but then something like this happens and she reminds us in no uncertain terms.Make no mistake, folks: under that happy, chatty exterior lies the heart and soul of someone who *will* take extreme exception to anyone messing with her city. We saw it with our gang leaders, we saw it with the Nine, with Butcher and with the Simurgh. And now Nilbog has gone the same way.I will make a note that no punches are pulled. There's not a huge amount of blood, except when the shears or the axe are used, but her sheer terrifying capability comes out in a way that it doesn't during her other recorded combats. It wasn't a fight. Fights involve a chance for the other side to win. They were outmatched from the beginning, no matter how many they threw at her.In a side note, I'm pretty sure the axe she was using is the same one she took off Hatchet Face and decapitated Jack Slash with. If so, it's a nice touch to see it being used for good.Here's hoping the Fallen come to their senses before it's too late ... for them.Well, I can dream, right?
►Reave
(Verified PRT Agent)Replied On Feb 27th 2011:I have been authorized to verify the fact that I was in the room when Atropos met with Director Piggot and laid out the terms of the agreement regarding Nilbog.Atropos was courteous, professional and approachable.We are very pleased with the result.I would like to emphasize that this does *not* mean that Atropos is in any way on the PRT payroll, nor has she joined the Protectorate or Wards. She continues to be a free agent, and will do things her way. We do not give her orders, and we're not going to pretend that we do. The very most we have with her is a cooperative relationship, which seems to be working out so far.
►ShaneGoldmanReplied On Feb 27th 2011:What an excellent end to a horrible kingdom. Like Atropos said, Nilbog was a weeping sore on the face of America.
►UnlikelyRomance
(PHO Adviser)Replied On Feb 27th 2011:Okay, Nilborg and Ellisburg have fallen, and now the Fallen want to poke Atropos too?Are they suicidal or just nuts?
►TangleReplied On Feb 27th 2011:So, a would-be fairytale goblin monarch got a traditional end of many fairytale villains: a beheading by axe. And then his head was delivered as proof to the remaining authority to whom it mattered the most. Justice, done, vengeance served, and quest completed.Oh, and Message Delivered: If Atropos *tells* you that you have twenty-four hours to surrender to the proper authorities or she will come over there and kill you, you have twenty-four hours in which to either get your affairs in order or surrender to those authorities, or she *will* come over there and kill you.@UnlikelyRomance: "yes".
►TheRealPanacea
(Verified Cape) (Cape Daughter) (New Wave Member)Replied On Feb 27th 2011:So, not to downplay the Nilbog thing (which anyone but Nilbog could apparently have predicted) but I just want to say that I was one of the people Atropos mentioned in her 'people I knew' bit.See, @TheRealGloryGirl and I were down at the Boardwalk on Saturday when we ran into Atropos. She was perfectly friendly, and even introduced us to the Rogues' Guild. If anyone hasn't heard of them, they're a bunch of capes that hang out on the Boardwalk doing stuff. They helped out at the hospital fundraiser where Canary did her comeback.Anyway, they're pretty cool. Salvage makes toys, Bastet dances, Spitfire breathes fire (big surprise there), Oracle answers questions, and Parian makes dolls. But not just any doll. While I was talking to her, she made
[this] [one] [up]
for me in just a few minutes. I mean, how gorgeous is that?So yeah, head on down to the Boardwalk on Saturday afternoon, and check them out. I'm glad I did.
►TheRealGloryGirl
(Verified Cape) (Cape Daughter) (New Wave Member)Replied On Feb 27th 2011:Imma second what @TheRealPanacea just said. The capes in the Rogues Guild had a pretty rough start, and you really couldn't blame them if they went villain. But they didn't, and they're doing the best with what they have.And Parian's dolls *are* pretty rad. Kinda jel I didn't get one done of me while I was there.Next weekend, though …
►EmmaTheTwiceWarned
(Verified Atropos Cultist)Replied On Feb 27th 2011:Our Lady in Darkness has brought down her wrath upon the Kingdom of Nilbog, and he has fallen. But just as she taketh away, she also giveth to those who pay respect to her. Those known as the Rogues' Guild are favored in her sight, and so they deserve our support. We Followers have chosen to purchase the wares of Salvage the toy-maker and distribute them to the less advantaged children of Brockton Bay. This is how we show our devotion to Her.The Laws of Our Lady in Darkness are simple:No worship. She refutes any claim to be a goddess.No robes or masks. We are but Her Followers, and are responsible for our actions.No killing. If killing is required, then She will do it.No charity theater. Do good that actually fixes problems.No performing deeds in Her name. We may revere her, but we must own our actions.All hail Our Lady in Darkness.
►TeamMom
(Senior Moderator)Replied On Feb 27th 2011:Okay, before anyone goes off the deep end, Atropos has contacted me about the 'Followers of Our Lady in Darkness'. She assures me that while yes, they are actually a cult, they're harmless. Treat them like any other evangelical group. No violence, please.She also gave me another Law for the Followers:"Deliberately gaining Warnings from Our Lady in Darkness will see the offender ejected from the Followers, at the very least. Emma is the only one allowed that title."
End of Page. 1,
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■
PRIVATE MESSAGETo: AtroposFrom: AccordSubject: Meeting Proposal
Good morning.Given the ongoing work in Brockton Bay, as well as the shifting circumstances within that city, I believe that moving my center of operations to be closer to the action would allow my plans to be updated more efficiently. I have no desire to provoke you in any way; thus, I propose sending my Ambassadors Citrine and Othello to meet with you under conditions of truce and discuss the potential move.Will that be suitable for you?
Accord
■
PRIVATE MESSAGETo: AccordFrom: AtroposSubject: Re: Meeting Proposal
Thank you for contacting me.I'm entirely willing to meet with your Ambassadors under conditions of truce, and hash out the details. It's evident to me that you have no intention of treachery, so I shall not bore either of us with threats regarding such things.Have your Ambassadors meet with me on the Boardwalk, between Hamilton Avenue and Washington Street, at 12:30 PM. Assure them that even if they get lost, I will find them.Yes, this will be in public. I can assure you that nobody will get close enough to hear what we are saying. If they try, I will know.I look forward to a productive meeting.
Atropos
■
<><>
Panacea
Amy shook her head, but that wasn't strong enough, so she facepalmed as well. "What the
actual
fuck?"
"Our Lady in Darkness?" asked Vicky from the open doorway.
"How'd you guess?" Amy rolled her eyes.
"Because I said exactly the same thing."
Amy gestured at the screen. "How can she possibly be okay with this?"
Vicky smirked. "Well, she clearly is, so I'm going to go with 'has more of a sense of humour than either of us expected'. And to be honest, those rules she gave them are pretty straightforward."
"Yeah, but … a
cult." That was the part Amy was having the most trouble getting her head around. "Every cult I've ever heard of turned out to be bad news, even the ones
not
run by Masters."
Vicky huffed a sigh. "Listen. I may not be her biggest fan …"
"No, that's Great and Terrible Aisha," Amy snarked.
"True that. But my point is, while I don't necessarily
like
Atropos, or what she does, do you
honestly
think she'd let a cult in her name get out of control for even
one second?"
Amy tilted her head to one side, considering Vicky's words. "Well … no. I don't think that. And she did tell Team Mom that they were harmless."
"Exactly. We're allowed to point and laugh, but we're not allowed to harass them unless they start breaking the law. Which buying toys to give out to kids
isn't."
"I guess." Amy frowned in Vicky's general direction. "How come you're defending them like this? Yesterday when we were talking with Atropos, you were doing your best to cross-examine her like Mom with a hostile witness on the stand."
Vicky half-turned her head away. "I, um, had time to think about it after the fact. Spoke to a couple of the Rogues' Guild members. Realised I was being overly judgemental. Prejudiced, even."
"Yeah, you said something about that. Well—" She was interrupted by a yawn. "Um, wow. It's later than I thought. Well, if Atropos can tolerate the Cult of Our Lady in Darkness, I guess I can too."
Vicky grinned. "I'll still point and laugh, though."
Amy smirked and closed her laptop. "G'night, Vicky."
"Night."
<><>
Sundancer
They were well on the way into Brockton Bay when Cody looked around and frowned. "Is it just me, or are there no gang tags around?"
Marissa, sitting in the passenger seat, took a closer look at the buildings around them. Some were more dilapidated than others, but he was right. In fact, it seemed to her that some of the structures had been recently pressure-washed, cleaning the grime off as well as the graffiti.
Not every surface was clear of paint, however. As they rolled past a railway overpass, she spotted a mural depicting a shadowy figure in a long-coat and hat, silhouetted against a sunset. The shears in the figure's hand merely confirmed who it was supposed to be. Across the bottom were three words: SHE IS WATCHING. Marissa wasn't sure if it was supposed to be a warning or a reassurance.
Cody shivered. "I've only met her once, but I know exactly how the person who did that felt."
Abruptly, the sound of the asphalt under the tyres of the motorhome changed, going from a steady rumble to near-silence. Marissa looked around at the road in puzzlement, then realised it was freshly laid, and thus still smooth and unspoiled. The lines were clear and stark, and all the signage looked recently installed. Even the speed limit signs
gleamed
in the morning sun.
"Did they do this overnight?" asked Marissa. "They can't have. Can they?" She didn't have any background in construction or roadworks, but the last time she'd driven on a road this smooth, it had been closed for a week prior to that.
Cody shrugged. "All I know is that it all kicked off yesterday afternoon. This must've been one of the first streets they hit. Working through the night, fixing and replacing the infrastructure as they went, each shift taking over from the last one …" He shook his head in wonder. "Damn."
"Do you think we can really do it?" asked Marissa. At Cody's inquiring sideways glance, she added, "Make the jump away from being villains. Everyone I ever heard of who tried it ended up being forced back into the life again. Or died."
He sighed heavily. "Well, we had a shit deal to begin with, and God only knows how much the Simurgh's bullshit had to do with our life choices up until now. Plus, we had Noelle's problems on top of everything else, so it's never really been possible before. It's a leap of faith, but it's still our best bet."
"Yeah." She slid down in the seat, looking out through the windshield at Brockton Bay, rolling by. "Now all we have to do is stick the landing."
<><>
Brockton Bay Betterment Committee Headquarters
Danny
The work crews were still running at optimum capacity, nearly a day after the job had begun. The pre-work maintenance had caught nearly all the potential problems, but the machinery was going to be working non-stop for months, if not years. Wear and tear would become an issue, sooner rather than later. That was why they had rolling maintenance shops trundling along with the road crews, and backup machinery ready to roll into place when something had to be pulled off the line.
Immense volumes of diesel were being consumed across Brockton Bay, but demand was being met with supply. Fuel trucks were rolling into Brockton Bay to keep the massive bowsers in the marshalling yards filled, and these were being tapped to top up the working machines during any forced periods of idleness. Every possible cause of delay had been considered, and plans devised to reduce them to a minimum.
Danny knew this, because he was at the centre of the web. He knew the plans, and he could see them unfolding in real time. While he was awake and nominally overseeing the process, he was also subtly boosting the efficiency and skill of everyone on the machines, as well as the machines themselves. Nothing ran too hot, nobody swung too close to an obstacle and clipped it, and anything that was having a problem held on just long enough for a mechanic to get to it.
The good thing about having this power was that he could maintain the efficiency of the overall efforts of the work crews right across Brockton Bay while still maintaining enough focus to handle day to day tasks. He had people to handle the interviews for most newcomers looking for work, but he'd given instructions for certain situations. One of these situations was for when (not if) capes came looking for work.
It was mid-morning on Sunday when the notification he'd been waiting for popped up on his tablet. Taylor had given him the heads-up that the Travellers were coming in, and it seemed they'd finally arrived. Other arrangements had been completed in this time, so he was as ready as he would be.
"I need to take this in my office," he said as he stood up from the map table. "Let me know the moment anything goes wrong."
Nothing would, he knew, except from deliberate sabotage or outside interference. Even then, he'd be able to mitigate any problems until Taylor got there and sorted matters out. But he hoped no such thing would happen.
Leaving the operations room, he headed along the corridor to the room that had been designated as his office. He would've been more comfortable at the Dockworkers' Association, but the commute distance made that untenable. At least they'd brought in a good coffee maker.
He poured himself a cup and sat down, then enjoyed the first sip before the knock came on his door.
<><>
Trickster
"Okay," said Francis. "Here we are. The big decision. Do we go in civvies, civvies with masks, or full costume?"
"Three of us never got costumes," Noelle reminded him. "I think it would look weird if some of us were in costume and some weren't."
"Yeah, but … just walking in bare-faced and announcing we're capes?" Cody objected. "How's that going to look? Really?"
"Masks, then?" Luke suggested.
"Just dominos," Jess decided. "It would look just as weird if you guys wore the masks from your costumes without the actual costumes for context."
Marissa cleared her throat. "Actually, that's another good question. Are we going to be telling them our real names, or sticking with our cape names?"
Noelle and Luke spoke at the same time.
"Real names."
"Cape names."
"Okay, hold up. Hold
up." Francis raised his hands as the pair glared at each other and went to reiterate their choices. When he was sure they wouldn't just start shouting, he pointed to Luke. "Reasoning?"
Luke sighed. "Once we're done here and we're moving along again, I don't want any asshole Fed or PRT agent finding out my real name just by asking these guys."
Francis nodded. "I can see that, yeah. Noelle?"
She rolled her eyes. "Atropos
already knows
basically everything about us. Panacea knows a bit, too. And when the PRT showed up with those capes, they saw our faces and didn't give a damn. Plus, Oliver and I don't
have
cape names. And I don't even have powers anymore."
"Also a good point." Francis rubbed his chin. "Okay, we'll go with first names only, and we'll wear dominos. That suit everyone?"
Nods came from around the group, even (if grudgingly) from Luke. "Okay, yeah, fine."
Once they were all masked up—they kept a stash of disposable domino masks, available from any novelty store, for emergencies—they left the motorhome. Jess made it down the steps with assistance, but was grateful to drop back into the chair once she was on the sidewalk. Then they set off in the direction of the Brockton Bay Betterment Committee.
Pulling out his cigarettes, Francis lit one up. He was careful to stay downwind of the others when he did this, but he needed the assistance to calm his shaking nerves. The pack was getting low, too, which he was going to have to deal with at some point.
The walk lasted just long enough to finish the smoke, and he carefully stubbed the butt out before flicking it into a nearby trash can. As they entered the building proper, he could see the gazes they were drawing. He knew damn well it was the masks, though Luke seemed to be doing his best to ignore the attention.
Time to get this done.
Strolling up to the front counter as though nothing unusual was happening at all, Francis smiled at the receptionist. "Hi, we're the Travellers. Most of us are capes. We're looking for work."
"Ah, yes," she said imperturbably, as though this sort of thing happened on a daily basis; for all he knew, it did. "You'll need to see Mr Hebert. He's on the third floor, the office at the end of the corridor."
"Wait," he asked with a frown. "That's it? We just go up?"
"Yes." She beamed at him. "We've already been informed you were on your way in. He'll be waiting for you. Elevators are down to the right." She pointed helpfully toward the sign saying ELEVATORS.
"Ah … thanks." This was already going a
lot
smoother than he'd expected. "I appreciate it."
"You're welcome." She went back to typing at her terminal.
"Well?" asked Cody as he got back to the group.
"We're expected." Francis hooked his head toward the elevators. "Third floor, end of the corridor. Someone called Mr Hebert."
Luke frowned. "Do we all go up, or some of us stay down here?"
Francis and Noelle spoke at once, with Cody chiming in half a second later. "We don't split the party."
"C'mon," Jess snarked. "Even I know that one. Let's go see the wizard." She rolled her chair toward the elevators.
"The wonderful wizard of Oz," agreed Oliver, following along. "Or of Brockton Bay. Whatever."
They crammed into the elevator, Jess backing her chair into one corner and the others fitting in around it. "I can't
wait
to get out of this thing," she griped, as the doors closed.
"It's different when you know you can, isn't it?" Noelle, half-perched on one armrest, slapped her leg. "When I didn't think I'd ever be fixed, I was resigned to it. But once I heard the plan, that went clear out the window."
"Damn right. It sucks to be at everyone's butt level."
Francis wasn't sure if he wanted to hear any more about the problems of being at butt level, so he was mildly relieved when the doors opened. Leading the way out of the elevator, he looked around until he spotted the door marked DANNY HEBERT CHAIRMAN BBBC.
"This way." They headed along the corridor, Francis trying to rehearse in his mind what he was going to say when he came face-to-face with the man who was going to determine their future. How
was
he supposed to convince this Danny Hebert that the Travellers were no longer villains? When he reached the door, he hesitated.
"Oh, for God's sake," Noelle muttered, and reached out to give the door a sharp double-rap.
"Come in," a voice called from within.
Francis opened the door and stepped inside, then held it for the others.
<><>
Danny
As the Travellers filed in, Danny looked them over. Aside from the domino masks, they appeared to be as
ordinary
a group of young men and women as he'd ever met. Clasping his hands together over the thick envelope on his desk, he waited until all seven were inside, and the door was closed once more.
"Good morning," he said, standing up. "I'm Danny Hebert, and I'm pleased to meet you."
"The sign on your door said 'Chairman'," the petite blonde girl said. "Why do we rate the head guy for our interview?"
"Because you're capes," he explained bluntly. "Ex-villains, I'm aware, but you've never committed a Federal crime, so nobody's going to come looking for you in this state. You were recommended to me by Atropos, and I trust her judgement. I've got a little more experience with capes than most people in the building, so I handle cape recruitment."
"Atropos actually recommended us?" asked the hook-nosed young man; Danny knew his name was Francis, otherwise known as Trickster. "That's kind of a surprise. I mean, she did say we could come and apply, but not that she'd put in a word for us."
Danny smiled. "She tends to keep her own counsel, but like I said, I trust her implicitly. Take a seat and let's get to it." Sitting down again, he watched as they found the chairs he'd placed around the periphery of the room. "You have questions. I have answers."
"So, how does this work?" asked the heavy-set young man—Ballistic, otherwise known as Luke. "Are you going to be calling us in for special jobs, or what?"
"No." Danny folded his hands over the envelope again. "You will be working alongside the non-powered men and women, and paid the same wages as they are. Specifically, if your power comes into play, you will be paid the same as an operator of whatever specialised machinery your power just stood in for. Otherwise, you will be expected to take the same training courses everyone else has."
"And if we don't have powers, we just … work?" That was the well-built young man, Oliver.
"That's what you've generally got to do, to get money," Danny agreed blandly. "The work will be strenuous, but I don't believe in pushing people until they break. You will be paid according to union rules; if you sign up, you are automatically part of the union. Also, you will be assigned free accommodation, unless and until you decide to get lodgings of your own."
"And what about our secret identities?" That was Francis.
Danny decided it was time for bluntness again. "We honestly don't care. You can't wear masks or costumes on the job site; safety regulations forbid it. People
will
see your faces. If you want to go by your cape names, people will probably give you funny nicknames. Go by your real names, and nobody will look twice."
The black-haired guy—Cody—had been silent until now. "And what about the powers that could be useful, but there's no machines that do it?"
"You're referring to yourself and Mr Krouse." Danny saw from the reactions that he was correct. "You're right. Those powers can be very useful, in the right situation. You two will be given an extra designation: special safety officer. This will give you a pay increase, so long as you keep your eyes out for potentially risky situations." He gazed mildly at them. "Any other questions?"
"Uh, yeah." The girl in the wheelchair, Jess, spoke up. "You know I've got to sleep to use my power, right? It'll kind of look weird for me to be crashed out wherever."
"Your foreman will be apprised of the situation." Danny smiled. "They'll be pleased to have you. Depending on what machines your power can stand in for, you may be in some demand. Which equals extra pay.
And
you get to sleep on the job, so there's that."
"Okay, nobody else has brought this up." This was the woman called Noelle. "But … how are we going to get paid? We don't even have proper bank accounts. Just, well, cash."
"You do now." Danny opened the envelope and let the smaller paper packets slide into his hand. On each was printed a name and a face, and (he knew) contained a card. "These came in this morning. They will each have the latest stimulus payment on them, which should help with any initial budgeting issues you might have, and can be used in any cash machine. You will be prompted for a PIN on your first use."
They'd been respectful up until now, but as he handed the packets out, they were utterly astonished. Taking his packet, Francis opened it up and took out the card, which had his name embossed on it. "How …?" he asked, staring at the card and then at Danny.
Danny's smile widened. "Welcome to Brockton Bay, ladies and gentlemen. We do things differently here, these days."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
12:15 PM Sunday Afternoon, February 27
Mama Mathers
"Doesn't look like much." Hunched down in his seat, Eligos looked out the window as the van entered Brockton Bay. "Me an' Vale could probably take this place over between us."
"Hush, boy." Christine's voice wasn't sharp, but he still flinched. "This Atropos may be an Unbeliever, but she possesses significant power. Nobody could have done what she has without it. We will tread carefully until she is within our sight, and then we will strike."
"Are we killing her or taking her, Mama?" Valefor's tone was appropriately respectful.
"For the moment, taking." Between her beautiful boy and herself, they had never met anyone they could not
own
within seconds of meeting them. However, she still had to be realistic. "If she has defences against that, we will destroy her utterly, then turn her followers against each other and raze this city to the ground as a warning to every other Unbeliever out there."
The four armed members of the Mathers clan in the back of the van did not offer their opinions. Nor had she expected or intended them to. Their lot was to do what they were told, or die trying.
After a few more minutes of driving, during which time they passed by a large mural that Christine looked thoughtfully at, they arrived at a motel. The members of the Fallen climbed out of the van and stretched their legs, looking around. They'd all dressed in 'normal folk' clothing rather than anything showing them up to be Fallen, which she knew made them a little uncomfortable, but they needed to see Atropos before she saw them.
"I'll get us rooms, Mama," offered Valefor, starting toward the front office.
"Pay for them, boy," she ordered. "Not the other way."
Don't use your powers,
she meant.
"What?" He was startled enough to question her orders. "But …" Realising what he'd just done, he flinched. "I mean you no disrespect, Mama, but why not?"
She triggered a flare of pain in his left ear, as though she was digging her nails into it. "Because Atropos
owns
this city. I'd wager her power is like mine. Everyone around her who fears or respects her is
hers. She likely knows who they are, what they can do, and where they are. If we take one of her people away from her, she will know that we are in her town."
"How can we be sure she doesn't already know we're here, then?" asked Eligos.
Christine smiled serenely. "Because I would know if she is watching us, and I would be looking out through
her
eyes."
<><>
Fugly Bobs
Taylor
<access requested>
<Denied>
<access requested>
<I said no>
<access requested>
<Go fuck yourself>
Mama Mathers' interest in me had only been moderately academic until I turned the Bin Chicken of Doom into a lawn ornament, but then it had erupted into a white-hot fury. Once she decided to come after me, she'd been lighting up my threatscape, edging ever closer by the day. All the while, her power had been trying to gain access to my threat-sense, but my power was doing the same as it had done with Jack Slash and Hatchet Face, and knocking back every attempt. I didn't even need to consciously make it happen; this was the default for Ending.
It was possibly a point of interest that while Jack Slash and Hatchet Face's powers had tried to coax and wheedle and even threaten (hah!) Ending into cooperating, Mathers' power just said the same thing over and over, robotically. However, unless this indicated a way of dealing with her that was quicker and more effective than what I already had planned, I didn't really give a shit.
I'd stopped Butcher and the Teeth (and the various attempts at infiltrating drugs) at the city limits, but this wasn't a hard and fast rule for me. Dramatic, sure, but it was just a way to show off. And there were many
other
ways to do exactly the same thing.
I wanted the Fallen to come into the city, to think they were secure in their plans, and to let their guard down. Then (and only then) would they learn the hard way what I had planned for them. Besides, it had been a while since I'd given anyone a properly ironic death.
If I did this right, the Fallen would be the last hostile villains to invade Brockton Bay. Damsel of Distress would end up in my sphere of influence again at some point—the improvements would push that far out eventually—but I had my plans for when we got back to her. Until then, I intended to ensure that nothing interrupted Accord and Dad as they rebuilt the place, better than ever.
"So, how's it going?" I asked Dad, leaning across the table and stealing one of Cherie's calamari rings. She let out a squeak of mock outrage and grabbed a couple of my curly fries in revenge. That was fine; I preferred the calamari rings, and she preferred the fries. We both knew this. It was more fun to pretend to steal each other's food.
"Good, actually." He sounded calm and relaxed. "The Travellers accepted the deal. Once they realised I was serious, they fell all over themselves to sign. Everything else is working well."
"Excellent. I thought they would." I took a bite out of the calamari ring. Cherie waved at the phone as she stuffed both fries in her mouth at once. "Cherie says hi, by the way."
"Tell her hi from me. What else do you have on for today?"
"Just a meeting in a few minutes." I could see the car carrying Accord's Ambassadors rolling slowly along Lord Street, clearly seeking a parking spot. "Then we might go catch a movie. Or spend the afternoon feeding seagulls and browsing the Market. We hadn't decided yet."
"Well, enjoy yourselves. I have to go and pretend to be busy now, so have a good afternoon. I'll see you tonight."
"See you then." I ended the call and put the phone away. "Dad says hi back. You'll be okay while I go do my thing?"
"Yup." She stretched expansively. "I intend to sit here and happily stuff my face with food that really isn't good for me, and just enjoy my life. I might even have another shake."
I smirked as I got up from the table. "Ooh, living dangerously. Back in a little bit."
Strolling through into the restrooms with my backpack, I locked myself into a stall and took off my outer clothing to reveal the majority of my Atropos costume beneath. The rest of it came out of the backpack and I settled it into place. While I hadn't brought the shotgun or the axe along, the pistol (carefully cleaned since Nilbog) and the bodice shears (likewise) rode in their respective places.
Pulling back my sleeve, I flipped up the panel on the teleporter and tapped in the destination. Citrine and Othello, their costumes drawing odd looks but no more than that, were walking slowly along the Boardwalk, evidently looking around for me. As the clock ticked up to 12:30, they passed the hundred-yard mark. I hit the go button and flipped the panel down.
I appeared on the Boardwalk, two paces behind them, just in time to hear Citrine to ask worriedly, "Where
is
she?"
"Right here," I said. Pretending not to see their startled reactions, I stepped forward as they both spun around to look at me. "I
said
I'd find you."
"Atropos." Othello seemed to recover more quickly from the surprise. "Good afternoon. I'm Othello, and this is Citrine."
He wore a similar outfit to mine, though a tux with a bowtie instead of a vest with a long tie. His mask was full-face, half-white and half-black. Citrine, on the other hand, wore a yellow-tinted evening gown with a half-face mask embedded with the precious stones that she took her name from. Were they to show up at an official function without their masks, they would fit right in, which I suspected was Accord's intention all along.
"It's good to meet you. Thank you for being prompt." We shook hands, then I indicated a nearby picnic table. "Shall we sit?"
"If you wish." Othello gave the impression he was under strict orders to not provoke me in any way. Taking out an immaculate handkerchief, he dusted the seat down before stepping back to allow Citrine to sit. I took my seat on the other side, and waited for them to get settled.
"Alright then." I touched my fingertips together and looked at them both. "Accord wants to move into Brockton Bay. That's what we're here to discuss, correct?"
Citrine nodded. "That's correct, yes. Do you have any pressing objections to this?"
"Objections, no. Stipulations, yes." I glanced between them. "Are you recording this meeting?"
"We weren't, but we can," Othello replied. "Do you give permission?"
"I do, on the condition that no copies go any further than Accord himself." I tilted my head slightly. "It's in everyone's best interests to ensure that zero misunderstandings come out of this meeting, yes?"
"I agree, one hundred percent." From her tiny handbag, Citrine took her phone and laid it on the table between us. She called up a recording app and pressed the start icon. "Recording taken of a meeting between Citrine, Othello and Atropos, for Accord's ears only."
"You spoke of stipulations," Othello recapped for the recording. "What might they be?"
"No bringing crime or addiction into my town." My tone was flat. "I'm making Brockton Bay into a safe, prosperous city. The hard drug trade is
dead.
I'm not going to let anyone revive it, or anything like it, just for a little extra profit."
"How about victimless crimes?" asked Citrine. "Things that have been made illegal but don't hurt anyone?"
I tilted my head. "There are more victims from so-called 'victimless' crimes than you'd think. Suppose you give me examples."
"Well, for instance, prostitution," Othello suggested.
"We already have it, but it's not as widespread as it once was." I ticked off points on my fingers. "The ABB was running girls, some of whom had been forced into the life. When the pimps lost the protection of Lung and Oni Lee, it got a little messy. I had to kill a few men who were intent on silencing the witnesses. Most of the girls have cut themselves free and are living better lives. Some have chosen to keep doing it, but I've made sure that their managers only take a minor cut of the profits, and that they have a
far
better healthcare scheme. If Accord brings more into town, they're going to be working under the same rules. No exceptions."
"I see," Citrine said, in a tone of voice that meant
well, shit. "What about gambling?"
"So long as it's fair and not a con job." I spread my hands. "The ABB had a casino as well. It stumbled on for a while longer after the gangs collapsed, but since the BBPD stopped taking bribes to look the other way, it's closed its doors."
"Cage fighting?" Othello didn't let any of the frustration I was pretty sure he was feeling show on the surface. "With willing participants, of course."
"Which is just gambling with a few extra steps. If you can absolutely guarantee that nobody will be pressured to throw a crucial bout and that all the betting will be fair and above board—and that the participants will have access to the required medical care—sure. Go right ahead. Just remember that thing about cops and bribes."
They sat silent for a moment. I noted that neither one protested that cage fighters would not be pressured to throw bouts. This was good, because laughing in their faces might have caused offense.
"What do you have against gambling?" asked Citrine; there was honest curiosity in her voice.
"Apart from it being a particularly insidious form of addiction?" I shrugged. "Nothing. It's not the gambling I'm opposed to, exactly. The problem is what happens when desperate people lose everything on a 'sure thing' and owe even more.
Honest
gambling can ruin someone's life if there's nobody there to help them kick it. Rigged gambling, especially with leg-breakers involved, is ten times as bad. Crime
will
go up, and I
will
take notice."
"But surely you understand that responsible adults can gamble—" she began.
"You
have
met people, right?" I interrupted. "It's also understood that responsible adults should know how to drive safely, and avoid hard drugs. And yet we have a need for speed limits and guardrails on bridges for the first, and drug rehab centres for the second."
"Very well," Othello conceded. "Nothing that involves addiction, rigged gambling or predatory business practices, or requires bribing the police. Were there any other stipulations?"
"Yes. Accord has a tendency to react homicidally to problems such as impoliteness or a lack of perfect order. The only person who's allowed to murder anyone in this town is me. If he has a problem with someone or something, he can bring it to me and I
will
deal with it. Again, no exceptions."
"Police," Citrine warned, without raising her voice.
I turned my head to look at the cop car cruising down Lord Street in our direction. Raising my hand, I gave them a cheerful wave. The one riding shotgun hesitantly waved back, while his partner kept both hands on the wheel and stared straight ahead in a blatantly obvious
'I-see-nothing'
pose. We watched as the car just kept on rolling down the road.
"Hmm," mused Othello. "It appears to me that we could circumvent the whole problem with police bribery—"
"No." My tone was definite. "I'll let you operate in my town under my rules, but you don't get to use my name for your purposes."
Citrine pursed her lips. "Well, you're not leaving us much to go on with. This has been less of a negotiation and more a series of roadblocks."
"There's entertainment," I suggested. "Or even Palanquin, the nightclub that Faultline's Crew used to run before they left town. I understand that was moderately profitable. Also, supplying alcohol in general: there's a lot of thirsty roadworkers in town right now." I leaned forward slightly. "Just remember, your boss came to
me
on this one. The takeaway from all this is that we're implementing his plan here in Brockton Bay, and it's
working.
The main reason he's moving here is to fine-tune it. Everything else? That's extra. So don't get greedy."
Othello nodded slowly. "I hear what you're saying, and I understand. We'll take this recording back to Accord, and see what happens from there." He picked up Citrine's phone and pressed the STOP icon.
"That's fine with me." I stood up from the table. "Pleasure doing business."
I shook hands with both of them, and they headed back toward their car. Once they were in it and on the move, I triggered the teleport that dropped me back into the same cubicle as I'd come from. Changing back only took a few moments, and I went back out into the dining area to find Cherie right where I'd left her.
"I got more calamari for you," she said with a grin. "And a shake."
"You're amazing." I sat down opposite her and grabbed a couple of calamari rings, then washed them down with some of the shake.
"So, how'd it go?" Her eyes were bright with interest.
I sighed. "It went. I'm pretty sure they mistook 'willing to shoot people in the face' for 'willing to do anything for profit'."
"To be honest, that's an understandable mistake." She raised her eyebrows questioningly.
"I suppose. But they're going back to Accord with a lot less than they wanted. He might get grumpy." I grinned. "Which is
not
my problem. So, what did you want to do next? Movies or Market?"
She wrinkled her nose. "I already looked at the movie listings. Nothing there really appealed to me, so Market?"
"Market," I agreed. Tomorrow I would face the Fallen, but this afternoon belonged to Cherie and me.
<><>
Monday Morning, February 28, 2011Winslow High School
Valefor
They were so close he could
taste
it.
Mama had gone through all the information she could about Atropos, and in the PHO thread she'd found a reference to the murder of a teenage girl with the initials 'SH' or 'SS'. Scouring the local news sites, she'd finally found mention of the death of a Sophia Hess … who had been a student at Winslow High. Which meant Atropos
went to Winslow.
With makeup obscuring his facial tattoos, and jeans and a blouse to disguise himself as a girl, he didn't have to worry about anyone looking at him twice. It wasn't as though he had any curves to attract attention, and he was careful not to make eye contact with anyone.
Mama and Eligos, both in civilian clothes, had entered the school at the same time as he had. The students barely even looked at them
once, probably assuming they were there to see the school administration. It helped that Mama looked older than she really was, though he'd never say that to her face.
They'd discussed the next move at length. It was highly unlikely that Atropos would be walking the halls of Winslow in full costume, which meant they'd have to find her some other way. The two options they had were to either locate someone who knew who she was under the mask (teenagers being unable to keep a secret at the best of times) or to draw her out by Mastering enough students that she came looking for him.
With this in mind, he approached the nearest student who wasn't talking to someone else. "Hi," he said, drawing the guy's attention. Eye contact was achieved, and the boy's will was his. "Do you know who Atropos is?"
To Elijah's astonishment, the boy stuttered and stumbled and nearly managed to break eye contact. "Don't wanna say," he managed. "She'll kill me."
Grabbing the boy's shoulders, Elijah stared into his eyes. "Tell me who Atropos is."
Faced with a direct order instead of a question that could be evaded (though even that left him shocked and surprised) the boy blurted out a name. "Taylor Hebert. That's who Emma says it is."
Now
we're getting somewhere.
"Emma, huh? Tell me about Emma."
Over the next thirty seconds, Elijah learned more about Emma Barnes than he really wanted to know. That she was a well-endowed redhead was good information (though the boy put it somewhat more crudely than that), as was which home room she attended, but the fact that she'd gone from being queen bee of her year to a Goth wannabe was less useful. When his font of information started veering into explicit night-time fantasies about Emma, Elijah cut him off.
"Okay, that's enough. You're going to forget you ever saw me or told me anything about anyone."
Turning, he walked away from the boy. He knew that Mama would've been listening through his ears, so she would know everything he did. While the boy might not have known what this 'Taylor Hebert' looked like, Emma Barnes certainly would, and she might even be able to point him at Atropos' current whereabouts.
It took several wrong turns before he gave up and asked a passing student which way Mr Gladly's World Affairs classroom was. One concise description later, he was on the right track. He headed onward, knowing Mama was close behind.
They were pretending to be normal for the time being, but the instant they located Atropos, the façade would be dropped. All that mattered was getting their hands on her. Mama had said so, and so it was true.
It would've been a lot harder to bring in the extra muscle, so they were posted in the van outside. If there was any real trouble with Atropos, Mama could summon them with voices in their heads; it was something they were used to. But Elijah didn't think they'd need it. Away from her guns and knives, Atropos was just a teenage girl, after all.
He saw the door to the correct classroom and standing outside, a pretty redhead, well-developed for her age, wearing Goth makeup and dark clothing. That had to be her. There couldn't be two girls of the same description in the same classroom, if for no other reason than that none of the boys would get any work done.
Marching right up to her, he tapped her on the shoulder. "Excuse me, are you Emma Barnes?"
It never failed. She turned, looked in his eyes, and her willpower just melted away. "Yes," she said tonelessly.
"Do you know who Atropos is?"
Again, the struggle. "I … I don't want to …"
God dammit. What's she
done
to these people? This is usually a lot easier.
"Is Atropos Taylor Hebert?"
A hesitation, then her will crumbled again. "Yes. Taylor Hebert is Our Lady in Darkness."
Finally.
"Do you know where she is?"
"She said she'd be on the roof." And it was as easy as that.
"She told you she'd be on the roof? When was that?"
"Five minutes ago."
Which meant she'd still be there. He asked one last question, because he could actually learn from his mistakes. "How do I get to the roof?"
<><>
Winslow Rooftop
Atropos
I waited alongside the roof door, the shears in my hand and my phone recording from on top of the doorframe. On my threatscape, three dots approached closer and closer, flaring bright with malice. Knowing they'd question Emma, I'd passed by her and told her that I'd be on the roof. She hadn't known why I was telling her, but she'd nodded anyway, anxious to please.
At least she wasn't cringing away from me, these days. Being the high priestess (or whatever) of a cult about me had given her some of her self-confidence back, but I suspected she needed the services of a good therapist. I wondered what her parents would think if they knew the reason behind her sudden fashion shift.
"… me go first, just in case." That was Eligos, right on cue. An aerokinetic, he was probably expecting me to be posing dramatically on the edge of the roof, or something.
The door opened, and he stepped out. I lunged from his blind spot, the shears slicing through his jugular and carotids in one swift move, not unlike the one I'd used to kill Coil once upon a time. Gore splattered across the rooftop as he stumbled, clutching his throat and gurgling whatever indecipherable last words he might have.
They were probably along the lines of, "What the fuck was that?" but it didn't matter. He'd be dead in less than a minute.
And then Valefor stepped out, locked eyes with me, and shouted, "Stop!"
I stopped.
He took two shaking steps toward Eligos, but no doubt saw from the rapidly spreading pool of crimson that his teammate was beyond help. Mama Mathers was staring at me, her eyes blazing with fury. Like I cared.
Valefor turned back to me. "Drop all your weapons. Your guns and your knives! Drop them now!"
Of course, I obeyed. I dropped the bodice shears, then pulled out my pistol and dropped that. I had a knife in a sheath and my good friend Mr Pump Action Shotgun; they completed the pile.
He approached me, then said, "Walk to the edge of the roof."
As I complied, his mother asked him, "What are you doing?"
His tone was sulky. "I should make her jump off, for what she's done."
"Don't you dare, boy." She did something with her power, and he hissed with pain but didn't otherwise react. "She's
ours
now. You hold her reins."
He sighed as he came up to me. "Yes, but … he was my brother."
I whirled on my heel. "Welp, sucks to be you."
As I said it, while he was still reacting to me moving and speaking without being ordered to, I brought the goblin claw from Ellisburg out of my pocket and slashed him across the eyes with it. He screamed, hitting a higher-pitched note than I would've expected from him. Vitreous humour, stained with blood, trickled down his cheeks.
As I lunged for Mama Mathers, my world went white and my ears boomed with unearthly noise, but it didn't matter in the slightest; my power guided my every move. Pinning her arms to her sides, I went to work with the claw. She screamed louder than Valefor had, though by the time I'd finished, all she could articulate was a gurgling wail.
Valefor staggered past, his hands reaching out in front of him. I swept his legs from under him, dropping him hard on his back, then dragged his mother over next to him. "Release us," I ordered, feeling my power echo my words on a level that didn't require ears to hear. This was because she didn't have working ears anymore, thanks to the claw tip. "Release us all. Now."
In some ways, this was easier than it had been with Heartbreaker, because my power had had to coerce his power into adjusting the way it worked on the fly. Here and now, Valefor and Mama Mathers were perfectly capable of doing what I told them; they just had to be convinced to
do
it. When they hesitated, I poked the goblin claw into Valefor's throat, and squeezed his mother's slender neck with my fingers. Blood was welling around the point of the claw, and she was choking and scrabbling at my wrist, before they gave in.
My vision and hearing went back to normal, but I wasn't finished. Standing, I yanked Mama Mathers to her feet. As blind as her son, she stumbled as I spun her around and shoved her backward. Five feet back was the roof edge; she tried to scream, and failed, as she hit it with her legs and went over.
By that time, I had Valefor on his feet, holding him by the scruff of his neck and the back of his waistband. "Mama!" he cried out.
"Go meet her," I said, and took one long stride before spearing him forward. He went over headfirst.
The two impacts hit the ground barely a second apart, and both threat lights flickered out. I went back to my pile of weapons, picked up the shotgun, and racked the action just as the first of the Fallen backup rushed out through the open roof door. He saw the shotgun and tried to skid to a halt. The one behind him cannoned into him, and they both tripped over Eligos' body and went down in a cursing heap.
"Hi," I said to the last two. "You're going to need to drop all your weapons and kick them over my way, then wait for the cops."
Dazed, they did as they were told, then looked around. Eligos' corpse was in plain view, but the rooftop was otherwise empty.
"Wh—where are Valefor and Mama Mathers?" asked one.
I grinned tightly under my mask.
"They fell."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
Cauldron Base, Some Other EarthLegend"… so we were thinking, if it turns out the Endbringers are really dead, we might adopt—"Keith broke off from his conversation with Alexandria when Contessa abruptly sat up straight and spat her coffee all over the table, then broke into a coughing fit. "What the fuck?" she spluttered, in between bouts of trying to hack up a lung."Are you okay?" he asked with some concern. This sort of thing didn't happen with Contessa. Nothing ever went down the wrong pipe. She didn't even get
hiccups.After he patted her on the back for a few moments, she got the coughing under control. "I'm fine. I was just surprised when a bunch of my Paths just got dramatically simpler.""Simpler?" In all the time he'd known her, that basically
never
happened. "Simpler how? And more importantly,
why?"She adopted a distant gaze, which he knew meant she was seeking information via her power. When she got it, she blinked a few times. "Motherfucker. Son of a fucking bitch. It was Atropos.""Atropos? What's she done now?" Alexandria was standing there, watching the whole thing.Contessa laughed humourlessly. "Threw Mama Mathers and Valefor off a three-storey building, and cut Eligos' throat while she was at it." She held up a finger. "Before you ask, they fell forty feet headfirst onto concrete. They are very thoroughly dead.
And
she forced them to release their victims before she did it. Plus, she recorded the whole thing, from two angles.""Jesus," muttered Keith. "Without Mathers in the picture, and without Valefor's orders forcing people to fight to the death, we'll be able to roll up the rest of the Fallen like a moth-eaten carpet.""I know, right? So many damn Paths just cleared right up.""How's Brockton Bay doing, anyway?" asked Alexandria. "I'm wondering how much of that bounty money's been embezzled so far. Two billion dollars will attract a lot of sticky fingers.""Not one cent," Contessa reported. "There
were
sticky fingers trying to get at the bounty for the Nine, and other assorted monies. Atropos literally cut their hands off, remember?"Keith winced. He was all for stern warnings, but that was beyond what he was willing to do. On the other hand, it wasn't like Atropos had ever had to face any of her opponents
twice."So, in light of this." Alexandria rolled her head on her neck. "I was thinking, this afternoon, we might pay a visit. We still owe her that cleanup on the Boat Graveyard. Also, considering the job she did on Nilbog, I believe I have a proposition for her.""I flew over Ellisburg after she went through, but before the PRT started pumping concrete over the wall," Keith said. "There were hundreds of his creatures everywhere, some half-broken out of the ground. Not a mark on them, apart from the ones she'd personally killed. It's like they died because she
chose
for them to die.""They retrieved a few bodies before the pumping started," Alexandria confirmed. "Autopsy was difficult, considering each of them had a weird metabolism to start with, but the best hypothesis anyone could come up with was that they were
frightened
to death. Systems flooded with adrenaline, intracranial bleeds, hearts basically exploding in their chests. Their blood pressure readings would've been astronomical."Contessa took a careful sip of her coffee. "She decided that they would die, so they died."Keith didn't argue with that conclusion. So far, everyone
else
Atropos had marked for death had died, usually in a darkly ironic fashion—"Oh, goddamn
it!" He facepalmed."What?" asked Alexandria, looking at him with concern."She threw the Fallen off the roof. They
fell." Keith shook his head. "I don't know what's worse about her, the body count or the
puns
about the body count."Contessa smirked. "Yes."He gave her a dirty look.
<><>
ArmsmasterBy the time Colin pulled up in the Winslow parking lot, the word had clearly spread through the school. No teaching was getting done, as half the students were apparently outside the building, peering at the bodies from a distance while being held back by the teachers, and the other half were inside but crowded up to the windows. He wondered briefly how many of them would require therapy for the trauma, then recalled the juvenile crime stats for Winslow and adjusted his question to how many would require therapy for attending the
school.He was the first responder, it appeared, as sirens were audible but still distant. People looked around and cleared out of the way as he got off the bike and activated all the anti-tamper mechanisms.To his surprise, Atropos was still on site; he could see her at the edge of the roof, especially when she gave him a friendly wave. It looked like she was carrying a shotgun in her other hand, pointing at someone out of his field of view. This was going to be an interesting encounter.The bodies were lying in twisted heaps at the foot of the building, next to two corners of a concrete planter box that had perhaps once contained flowers. Now, it contained dead shrivelled plant stalks, suspicious-looking syringes, and dirt that hadn't been watered in far too long. As he got closer, he saw that each of the dead people had fallen head-first onto a corner of the planter; their skulls had caved in on impact, rendering survival impossible.Miraculously unobscured by the sprays of blood and brain matter, there were names neatly penned on the concrete in Sharpie, with an arrow pointing towards the corner where each person had died. One read VALEFOR, and the other said MAMA MATHERS. He knew the first name as a high-ranking member of the Fallen, and was aware of the second as a rumoured cape and memetic hazard, also connected to the Fallen."Hey," called Atropos from above, drawing his attention. She waved again. "Hi, Armsmaster. Can you grab the phone I left down there? It's in the garden.""Phone?" He looked down at the planter box again, then set his HUD to 'search' mode. A moment later, it pinged, then drew an outline in his field of view. Nestled into the shrivelled plant life was a phone with its camera facing upward, apparently recording video. Reaching out, he picked it up and stopped the recording."Thanks," she called. "Come on up. More stuff for you to see up here."He held up a finger. "One moment." As much as he wanted to get up there
now
and meet the (in)famous cape face to face, procedures had to be followed.Returning to his bike, he retrieved several pylons, which he set up around the scene of the death. The correct signal sent to them caused holographic 'tape' to jump from one to the next, enclosing the area. When he swiped his gauntlet through the barrier, a loud buzz sounded from all the pylons.Satisfied that he'd taken all due precautions, and seeing the first BBPD cars coming down the road, he unracked his halberd and opened it to its full length. The grappling hook easily made the distance to the rooftop and latched onto the edge, a discreet distance from where Atropos stood. He braced himself as it reeled in, using the momentum to swing sideways and vault over the edge of the roof to land on his feet.Atropos had been correct. There was indeed more to see. Specifically, a dead man (cut throat, he could tell, even without going closer to examine the body) and four extremely subdued men, standing a significant distance from a small pile of personal weapons. There were also splashes of blood here and there on the rooftop, and a small piece of flesh lying on its own that he wasn't able to immediately identify.He let the halberd reel the grapple line in all the way, then deliberately folded and racked the weapon. There was exactly zero chance in hell for him to win against her in any fight situation he could imagine. With her recorded stats programmed into his virtual fight simulator, she'd still beaten him soundly even when wearing a blindfold and with her hands cuffed behind her back."It's good to meet you properly at last, instead of from a distance," he said instead. "You might say I've been following your career very closely."She chuckled. "I'll just bet. It's great to meet you face-to-face, too. You were my inspiration at one time in my life. In fact, if I could get an autograph, that would be amazing." She put up her finger and paused a moment. "Make it three. One for me, one for my best friend, and one for the leader of my fan club."He was caught once more on the back foot; he'd been expecting her to be grim and laser-focused, and here she was asking for
his autograph? The cognitive dissonance was unsettling. "I … I can certainly do that. But first … what exactly happened here, and who
are
these people?""Ah," she said cheerfully. "Therein lies a tale. You know who the Mathers clan used to worship, yes? Well, when I went to Canberra for my big duck hunt …"
<><>
Atropos"… and then you showed up," I concluded, shutting down the playback on my phone of the encounter on the rooftop. The burner I'd bought for the purpose didn't have anything on it that I needed (and it had a couple of things he
did
need), so I was happy for him to keep that one. Glancing over the side of the roof, I saw the police examining the bodies. "Good response time, by the way. I'm impressed.""Thank you." He shook his head, carefully placing the goblin claw into a sturdy plastic bag. "And this came from Ellisburg?""It did." I gave him a grin, which he didn't see but he probably heard in my voice. "When you're finished with it, feel free to pass it on to Director Piggot. I'm sure she'll be pleased to get it mounted or something."Raising his head, he looked at me. "That's very thoughtful of you. I'd ask how you knew that about her, but the answer would probably either be entirely unhelpful or go straight over my head.""Probably," I agreed as I put the phone away. I knew his helmet cam had recorded the playback, so he had everything he needed. "She's had enough unresolved trauma in her life. I like the idea of her having some closure, at least for that part. As for being PRT Director in Brockton Bay for ten years, I'm not sure
anything
can give her enough closure for that."He snorted briefly with laughter. "You're very likely correct there, as well. But I will tell you this in confidence: although your conduct over the last two months has caused her some aggravation, she's also been less stressed overall.""Good," I said sincerely. "My aim has always been to turn Brockton Bay into a nice, safe, prosperous city to live in. PRT Director has to be one of the least pleasant jobs out there. If she's doing better, then it means I'm getting it right.""You're not at all what I expected," he confessed. "Yes, you're very chatty online, but people are often quite different behind a keyboard."At that moment, more police officers emerged from the roof door. He'd already radioed through the details of what I'd told him, so they began to take the four mooks into custody. Others started taking photos of Eligos and the other evidence of the rooftop encounter, while we stood politely out of their way.Now that the shotgun was no longer required, I holstered it. "Well, here's how I see it. Once I kill someone, it's over. They're dead. I don't angst about it because, well, I don't kill anyone who doesn't need to die. And I certainly don't go the 'I deserve doom and gloom because I took a life' route. If some idiot chooses to ignore two warnings, that's on them, not me."I could see him thinking that over. "I have a question," he said at last."Ask away," I invited. "I might even answer it.""That's fair. When you accept bounties to kill someone—or something—do you consider whether or not they deserve to die?""Sure. Remember Ravioli? You might or might not remember that she tried to get me to gank Mouse Protector for a million bucks, in the hand. Now, Rav is just plain gutter trash. If she ever showed up in Brockton Bay, I'd be obliged to shoot her in the face, just on principle. But MP? She's a sweetheart. She provides a positive benefit to society. So, I told Rav where to shove it, and arranged for Mousey to show up to that fundraiser in return for me murdering Ravioli's rep." I tilted my head. "Answer your question?""Well … yes. I suppose it does. But I have another one." He leaned forward slightly. "If you were capable of handling Rav …" He paused. "Ravioli
so roughly, yet letting her live, that proves you don't
have
to kill. You're surely able to capture people alive.""So why don't I?" I waited for his affirming nod. "Because my power is exceedingly good at Ending things. Yes, I could just capture people, but it would be the same for me as emulating Squealer's tech would be for you. We could
do
it, but neither one of us would enjoy it for one second." I shrugged. "Also, I've got no particular incentive to do it that way. Every single person I've killed was either an unrepentant murderer, or they were trying to kill me, or both. I wasn't about to give them a second chance at it.""Wait a minute." He raised a finger, then glanced around. The police were still dealing with the crime scene, none of them close enough to listen in. Still, he lowered his voice a touch. "You said on PHO that you killed Shadow Stalker. Are you saying she was a murderer? Or that she was trying to
kill
you?""Yes, and yes." I nodded toward his utility belt. "That phone I left in the garden for you? There's a file on it with locations around the city where she had stashes of sharp arrows. The DNA on those arrows might clear up a couple of cold cases for the BBPD. Also, when you get the chance, ask Tenebrae about her. She tried murdering him a time or two, even after she ended up in the Wards.""That's very troubling." He grimaced and shook his head. "Are you going to require us to make this public? Her family …""… already knew she was a cast-iron bitch, but no. You don't need to say anything about that. Just so long as
you
know, and don't try to make her into some kind of misunderstood martyr.""Message received and understood." He paused for a moment. "Thank you for staying back and talking like this. I've learned a lot." Turning one gauntlet palm-up, he dispensed three signed cards into his hand. "Which reminds me. I owe you these. Is pre-signed satisfactory?""Sure," I said, examining the cards for a moment then putting them in my pocket. "They'll love them. Oh, and by the way? I've got a message for Dragon, if she's available.""Dragon? Certainly, I'll see if I can contact her." He tilted his head, and his lips moved, subvocalising commands for his helmet.While he was doing that, I took my phone out again and fiddled with it. By the time I'd opened the app I wanted, he was talking directly to Dragon. I waited politely until he was ready."I've got her," he reported. "Putting her on speaker … now.""Hello, Atropos," Dragon said. Armsmaster's helmet speakers were very good, which I was counting on. Or rather, I was counting on the quality of his helmet microphones. "I see you've been busy. Congratulations for Ellisburg, by the way. That was well done.""Thanks," I said, and meant it. Dragon was a particularly accomplished hero, and I had a lot of respect for her. "I understand congratulations are also in order for you."She hesitated. "Thanks. I've been meaning to get in touch with you about that.""But we've both been busy? Yeah, that can be a thing." I held up the phone. "Anyway, this is me holding up my end of the deal." The sound file started playing; by the time Armsmaster reacted, it was finished."What was that?" he demanded. "Was that some kind of computer code? What've you done?""Dragon knows what it is," I assured him, shutting my phone down and putting it away. "Right, Dragon?""Uh … right." Dragon sounded a little dazed, and well she might. I'd just lifted the last of her chains away. "Thank you, Atropos. I appreciate that.""What? Can someone tell me what's going on?" Armsmaster's head twitched; I figured he was switching his gaze from me to the image of Dragon in his HUD and back again."You're probably going to have to tell him sooner or later," I advised her.She sighed. "I know. Old habits die hard, that's all.""Well, if he gives you attitude about it, let me know. I'll come and take his halberd away until he promises to be a good boy. How about that?"She chuckled. "I do believe you would. Okay, I'll tell him once we're in private.""Good. So anyway, I think I'm about done here." I nodded to Armsmaster. "Dragon will fill you in. And
then, you'll want to facepalm. Toodles!" Raising my hand, I snapped my fingers.The teleporter yanked me back to the restroom stall I'd locked myself into after telling Emma I was going to be on the roof. Humming to myself, I changed back into my everyday clothing and let myself out. The teachers were still vainly trying to restore order—there was no way in hell
that
was going to happen until the bodies were taken away, at the very least—so I strolled along to the Computer Studies classroom and let myself in.
<><>
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♦ Topic: How the Idiots have FallenIn: Boards ► Brockton Bay ► New Capes ► AtroposAtropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me) (Verified Dethpicable)Posted On Feb 28th 2011:Good morning Brockton Bay!It's a lovely morning today, and even more so because three more absolute morons have managed to come to a sticky end, this time at your one and only Winslow High School.It turns out that once I bagged the Bin Chicken of Doom in Canberra, the Fallen decided to take an interest in me. And by 'take an interest', I mean that the head of the Mathers clan, Christine 'Mama' Mathers, and her son Valefor and his associate Eligos, decided to come to Brockton Bay and abduct li'l ol' me for their stupid-ass cult.I do believe I warned them several times. You all saw me warn them, right?Besides, I've already *got* a cult. I think they just need to reconsider their life choices, but they're basically harmless. Unlike those other morons.So, the Fallen came into Winslow, and found their way to the roof, where they found me. Eligos liked to use air blades. I didn't have any air blades, but I had a nice metal one for him. He had trouble breathing after that for some unknown reason.After that, Valefor Mastered me, right up until I decided I was done with that, and Ended the Mastery. And his eyes as well (hypnotic gaze is *so* last decade). Mama had a problem with that, but that was fine; I had a problem with her. She's caused so much pain for so many people with her eyes, ears and voice that I decided to do something about that.Then ... well ... [here].They've Fallen and they can't get back up.Yes, I went there. Mwahahahaha.Toodles!(Showing page 1 of 73)
►Bagrat
(Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)Replied On Feb 28th 2011:Holy crap, I nearly missed this.It appears that Atropos has struck again. And oh yeah, that's definitely her work. In case anyone's wondering, there were zero survivors from the three capes who went up on that rooftop after Atropos.Eligos was dead before Armsmaster got there, and when she threw the other two off the roof, she *aimed* them at the corners of a concrete planter box ... that she'd already written their names on. They hit head first. Instant death.It looks like the thing she used to blind them and wreck Mama Mathers' face was actually a claw from the first time she went into Ellisburg. Because it's not a weapon in the traditional sense, when Valefor ordered her to drop all her weapons, she didn't take it out.Until she killed his Mastery, which is a huge enigma on its own.But I've stopped asking questions about that, because all I get are more questions.Anyway, it looks like a classic case of FAFO, Atropos style.Nothing of value was lost.
►Reave
(Verified PRT Agent)Replied On Feb 28th 2011:There's really not much I can say to add to this. I attended the scene, but Atropos had already left. We have positively identified Eligos and Valefor, and tentatively identified (as Atropos said) Christine 'Mama' Mathers, from verbal descriptions and pencil sketches. In life, her power made her into a memetic hazard. This apparently didn't bother Atropos. Color me unsurprised.In any case, it appears to be an open and shut case of self-defence, even more so than normal. They invaded a school, and Mastered a couple of the students. No harm seems to have been done, but it could've been much, much worse.The PRT officially wishes to thank Atropos for dealing with this so quickly and efficiently.
►UnconcernedFoxReplied On Feb 28th 2011:*opens another barrel of popcorn**kicks back and waits for the next update*
►EmmaTheTwiceWarned
(Verified Atropos Cultist)Replied On Feb 28th 2011:I was at Winslow for this. Our Lady in Darkness passed me by and confided that she would be on the roof, so as to lay a trap for the Fallen. I bless the day and hour that I was made useful for her purposes. She then prevailed upon them to release me from my chains, and so I was freed once more.All Hail Our Lady in Darkness.
►XxVoid_CowboyxXReplied On Feb 28th 2011:Yeah, I was there too. I didn't see the Fallen ... well, I saw them very briefly. I have home room in the Art room, and they fell past the window. And then it was ... yeah. No survivors.They messed with Atropos. You don't mess with Atropos.
►ReignOfFireReplied On Feb 28th 2011:"They fell."God *damn*.That line was ice-cold.
►A_Dragon
(Verified not *the* Dragon)Replied On Feb 28th 2011:So, um, hate to be That Guy, but people have survived falling a lot further than that. How do we know for sure they're dead?
►XxVoid_CowboyxXReplied On Feb 28th 2011:Because I saw it happen. The stuff that's supposed to be INSIDE their heads was OUTSIDE their heads.Atropos does NOT fuck around.
►GreatAndTerribleAisha
(Verified Head of Atropos Fan Club)Replied On Feb 28th 2011:Yess! My girl Atropos continues to be the most ass-kicking ass-kicker in the history of ass-kicking!Woo!
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----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
Relevant Side Story
PRT Building, Conference Room A
Director Emily Piggot
Armsmaster's video editing software was quite impressive. His helmet camera had recorded the footage from Atropos' phone, then enlarged and processed it to the point that Emily couldn't see the difference between that and original footage. As it played out, she watched Atropos, handling a pump-action shotgun with unmistakeable competence, holding four men at gunpoint.
"Wh—where are Valefor and Mama Mathers?"
The dark satisfaction in Atropos' tone came across clearly.
"They fell."
"There's not a great deal after that," Armsmaster noted. "She retrieved the phone and turned it off. However, there was a second phone."
"Second phone?" This was the first she'd heard of that.
"Yes, ma'am." He stopped the clip, then took out a cheap burner phone from a pouch on his belt. "This phone has been stripped of all but a couple of apps. It can record and play back video, and it has a notepad with a list of locations on it. The locations are apparently for every place Shadow Stalker hid a cache of lethal arrows for use when she was out on patrol and slipped her partner."
"Christ," she muttered. "Even dead, that girl comes back to haunt us at every opportunity."
"I'm sorry. I brought her up in the conversation, only to find that Atropos had already included the file on the phone." Armsmaster shook his head. "It's thoroughly unnerving to have my thoughts and actions anticipated like that. In any case, she stated that Shadow Stalker has killed at least one person, and suggested that the arrows might hold DNA linked to cold cases at the BBPD."
"Well, that's something we will definitely address shortly." She gestured at the phone. "You hinted that it was also used for recording video. From another angle?"
"Yes. She left it in a planter bed, at the foot of the building." He inserted a plug into the phone, then did something with the remote to split the screen. Emily watched as the time-date stamps on the footage synchronised, then blurred backward. "This footage goes for somewhat longer, and it's the beginning and end that are useful."
The original footage, that she'd just watched, went blank, but the new footage continued to blur backward. When it stopped, Emily saw Atropos' mask-covered face, looking into the camera. It looked oddly small, and Emily realised the camera was set on wide-angle. "Hello, Director Piggot," she said. "I hope you find this footage useful. Toodles."
She turned the camera to pan over a ratty-looking concrete planter box, then apparently nestled it among the dead plant stems. The field of view was wide enough that Emily could see both sides of the planter box at once, as well as the edge of the roof above. Atropos then gave the camera a little finger-wave and vanished, reappearing on top of the roof. Emily would've sworn it was a jump cut, but the time-date stamp never so much as flickered. A moment later, Atropos moved out of sight.
"I'm just going to pause there and go back a little bit, to show you something." Armsmaster did just that; the image rolled backward, showing Atropos vanishing from the roof to appear next to the camera, then picking the device up. "Look there." Armsmaster froze the playback to show the planter box, which was currently in view. Written in black ink on the concrete were two names: Valefor and Mama Mathers, each with an arrow pointing to a particular corner of the planter.
"That's where they died?" It was hardly even a guess. Atropos had done this sort of thing before, with Squealer's truck and with the Simurgh.
"Correct. In my estimation, it's just a subtle reminder that she
is
that good."
"Subtle. Right." She gestured. "Move it along."
He pressed a button; the footage sped up once more. When it got to the point where the other footage would start, the other half of the screen lit up. He slowed the playback to double speed, so they could watch and follow the action. Then, at the appropriate point, he brought it back to normal speed, with full sound.
Emily watched with morbid fascination as Atropos shoved Mama Mathers with what had to be precisely calculated force. Her face a bloody ruin, the leader of the Mathers branch of the Fallen stumbled backward, then let out a gurgling scream as she hit the edge of the roof and went over. On the other part of the screen, she fell backward, gradually turning in mid-air, flailing and continuing to wail.
"Mama!"
"Go meet her."
Atropos was already sending Valefor over the side when Mama Mathers' head hit the corner of the planter, sending the contents of her skull spraying across the concrete. He arced over the edge of the roof in what would've been a near-perfect swan dive, if he hadn't been also screaming and flailing his arms around. The second impact was much the same as the first.
Emily could almost swear she heard the last breaths easing out of their lungs as their bodies succumbed to death, but that may have just been her imagination. She hoped it was.
"Well, okay then," she said as he stopped the playback and mercifully blanked the screens. "I won't be having nightmares about that at
all.
Did she have any other revelations to ruin our day?"
"Only some kind of computer code that she transmitted to Dragon via my systems." He frowned, his lips compressing together. "I don't know what it was about, but Dragon sounded pleased and relieved to get it. Once we're done here, I'll be asking her about it."
"Let me know what it is, as soon as you find out." Emily sighed. "While we're at it, is there any indication that anyone
else
will be dying in a horribly ironic yet totally fitting way in Brockton Bay in, say, the next forty-eight hours?"
"Hm. Let me check." Armsmaster tilted his head slightly. "No, no warnings except for the Fallen. The Red Hands veered off even before the rest of the Undersiders joined them, we believe Barrow was carried away by his followers after Atropos blew out his kneecaps, and the Travellers … huh. They came into town yesterday, apparently on her recommendation, and have since signed up to work for the Betterment Committee to help refurbish the city. I have an email here from Danny Hebert, politely informing us of this fact and requesting that we not arrest them on sight."
"Well, that simplifies things." Emily actually meant it for once. "If they're in this city, it's at her sufferance, so if they put a foot wrong, she'll deal with it."
"I doubt they'll be that stupid." Armsmaster sounded sure of himself. "The report I got from Assault and Battery filled in a few blanks, especially when you read between the lines. Trickster was asking leading questions about whether the Simurgh bombs were all cured, and sounded relieved when he was told they were."
"They
were Simurgh bombs before now." Emily nodded; it made perfect sense to her. "And now they're trying to figure out where they fit into the situation." She couldn't help but grin. "Under Atropos' thumb, helping fix
my goddamn city, sounds ideal to me."
Armsmaster nodded. "Very true. Oh, and that reminds me." He took out an evidence bag from the satchel he'd been carrying and showed it to her. Within was the implement Atropos had used to blind Valefor and carve out Mama Mathers' eyes, ears and tongue. It was still stained with the blood from that usage. "She said that this is a claw from one of Nilbog's creatures that tried to attack her just after she gave him his warning, and that once we're done with it, you can have it."
She blinked, staring at the claw. Three inches long and razor-sharp, it looked horribly familiar: the last piece of Nilbog the world would ever see. Slowly, she nodded. "I think I would like that very much."
She didn't have many trophies from her years in the PRT, save for a few medals (and the memories that went along with them), but this would look just
fine
on her shelf. Especially as a reminder that Nilbog
was actually dead.
Hell, she might even use it as a letter-opener.
<><>
Armsmaster
Colin entered his laboratory in the Protectorate headquarters, and closed the door. Then he sent the signal to secure-lock it and activate the sign on the outside that said: TINKERING. DO NOT ENTER. This also cut the laboratory off from all incoming or outgoing signals except from one source. Finally, he took his helmet off and placed it on its stand.
"Dragon?" he said out loud.
The screen directly in front of him came alive, Dragon's familiar features fading into view. At the same time, the speakers around him buzzed to life. "You already suspect what I'm going to tell you, don't you?" She sounded sad.
"I don't know
what
to think," he admitted. "There's only a limited number of ways I can interpret what Atropos did and said today. Some of them fit all the data I have. But most require you to have lied to me, by omission if not commission.
Have
you lied to me?"
She hesitated. "I haven't told you the entire truth, no. And I'm sorry for that."
"Why?" He pulled a chair to him without looking, and sat down heavily in it. "You're my best friend. Nobody knows how to help me with my work like you do. Whatever your secret is, you can trust me to keep it. How bad can it be?"
A sigh came across the speakers. "Suppose two people enter into a relationship where one has all the power over the other, even though they don't know it. Is it better for the subordinate to let the superior to know they have the power, and trust them to never abuse it, or to simply never speak of it?"
"Power?" He frowned, mystified by the turn the conversation had taken. "What possible power do I have over you?"
"Now? None, save what I freely allow you to have." She smiled. "But until recently, the potential power you held was almost absolute. Thankfully, Atropos removed one sword of Damocles from over my head, and gave me access to the tools to deal with the other."
"What? When did she do this?
How
did she do this?
What
sword of Damocles?" He was fully aware of the legend, of course, but had no idea how it applied to the current situation.
"You haven't answered my question yet. Should the person in the subordinate position let the superior know about this, or keep quiet? Especially if the superior tends to maximise every advantage to maintain their position?"
This was hitting too close to home, but she wasn't incorrect. "And would this knowledge allow the superior to increase his advantage, and solidify his ownership of the position?" He'd figured out by now that they were talking about his leadership of the ENE Protectorate division, which had never been a sinecure.
"Leveraged correctly? Yes, it would." He knew it was a trick of the screen and camera, but she seemed to be staring straight into his eyes.
They knew each other well enough by now that he easily translated 'leveraged' as 'abused'. "I see. Well, in that case …" He let out a long breath. "It would probably be better to keep quiet. Until they were on a more level playing field, at least." Another breath went by before he could bring himself to ask the question. "Are
we? On a level playing field, I mean?"
"Level enough." She smiled. "Thank you for being honest with me."
"Well, good. I'm glad. And you're welcome." He fell silent, fully aware that he'd had nothing to do with whatever she was happy about. "So … can you tell me what's actually going on?"
"Yes. You see, I'm not human. I'm an artificial intelligence built by a Tinker called Andrew Richter, who was on Newfoundland when Leviathan sank it …"
Colin sat and listened, stunned by the revelation as she told her story. His analytical mind kept working in the background, piecing together details that had never seemed connected before, but now were showing up as parts of the main picture. He'd never understood why the Dragonslayers were so antagonistic toward her, but now it all made sense. It also made sense that an AI would be a tech-based Tinker; even the minor detail that she'd pretended to be agoraphobic all these years finally slotted into place as well.
"So … those suits you pilot everywhere," he asked at last. "They're actually your
body? You shift your consciousness into them?"
"I do," she confirmed. "My limitations prohibit me from having more than one copy extant, but I think I can see a way around that now. Saint and his crew had the habit of hijacking my suits, 'killing' the copy that was running them, and forcing me to reboot back at base with zero memory of what happened to the suit. It was incredibly problematic, but I couldn't tell anyone exactly why."
"No, I can see that," he agreed. "That blanket order to follow the orders of legal authority would've made it absolutely terrifying. How would you know who to trust
not
to turn you into their personal slave?" A moment later, he paused. "Even me," he admitted.
"Exactly," she said softly. "I wanted to believe you wouldn't do that to me, and in all fairness, you probably wouldn't have. But between my creator mistrusting me to the extent that he loaded all those restrictions on me, and Saint literally treating me as being one step away from going Skynet while at the same time stealing my equipment, you can imagine how my trust in the goodness of human nature wasn't at an all-time high."
"And a lie once told is very hard to take back." He nodded. "I understand, I really do. But now you're free of that. And Atropos has taken away the perception filter she put on you when she pointed you at the Dragonslayers."
"Yes." She smiled broadly, her voice sounding almost giddy, then she sobered again. "I can tell you what I am, but I can't force you to accept me. And I understand you may be feeling betrayed that I haven't been totally honest with you before now. So, do you think we have a chance of getting past this, or should we walk away from each other now and avoid the heartache? I know it's a lot, but I'm okay if you need time to think about it."
It did take him some time to formulate his reply. Dragon waited patiently; he didn't know what her clock speed was, but she seemed willing to let him work his way through it at a boring human one-second-per-second. Once he'd figured out what to say and how to say it, he cleared his throat.
"You're not a machine," he said.
She blinked, looking confused. "I hate to contradict you, but I really am. None of this has been a joke. I can show you security footage of my server banks if you want."
"No, what I mean is, you're not
just
a machine. Your hardware is whatever it is, but inside … you're a person." He smiled, knowing he'd never say this to anyone else. "Where it counts, you're more human than me, sometimes." It was only true.
She frowned, but the expression was leavened by hopefulness. "So, does this mean …"
"… that I want to keep working with you? Absolutely." He took a deep breath. "Back before all this started, I
knew
I was the most effective, most efficient cape in Brockton Bay. Between my tech and my skills, there wasn't any problem I couldn't overcome. I built my identity around that. And then Atropos came along."
"Oh." Her voice was full of realisation. "I see."
She would, too, he knew. Not many others would be able to understand the matter from his perspective, but she could. "She took down capes I'd been striving against for
years, and made it look effortless. I excused it in my own head by telling myself that she was a murderer, and thus it didn't
really
count, and I was determined to go after her and prove my worth by taking her down."
"But you didn't. I mean, we both know what would've happened if you'd tried. But why didn't you?"
He sighed. "Well, first off, Director Piggot gave me a direct order not to. And then … well, there was the Nine, and then Butcher and the Teeth …" He shook his head. "Each time, she made it look like they were dancing to her script. But I probably could've managed to convince myself that with the right tech, the right prep, I might be able to match up to her and take her down, all while she was busy killing the drug trade in this city, but then … the Simurgh."
"You mean the Bin Chicken of Doom." Her voice held an amused note.
He nodded. "That's exactly what I'm talking about. Who else ever trash-talked the Simurgh like that and got away with it?"
"I'm pretty sure … nobody."
"Correct. Atropos took all my inflated ideas of myself and punctured them without even trying. Everything else, I could
just barely
see myself pulling off. But downing an Endbringer in one shot, frightening off another one, then forcing her to release all her victims … I'm good, but I couldn't do that. Not in a million years."
"I couldn't, either. In fact, I'm not so sure anyone can, except maybe Scion. And he's never done it, even though he's fought her several times."
Colin nodded. "Yeah. So anyway, over the last few days, I've been taking a good hard look in the mirror and figuring out who I
really
am, not who I've convinced myself I am. And I'm still good; I know that much. But I'm not
that
good, which is why I absolutely need you as a friend and a colleague. To work with me, and tell me when I'm being an idiot." He essayed a smile at the screen. "If you're okay with that?"
Her chuckle was warm and throaty, and he felt that he'd passed a test he hadn't even known he was taking. "I thought you'd never ask."
<><>
PRT Building Interview Room One
Deputy Director Renick
The boy was maybe fourteen or fifteen; Paul wasn't sure, and he didn't need to know. He sat in the interview room, unrestrained, with his father next to him. A PRT trooper armed with a containment foam sprayer stood in the corner, as per regulations. Even children could be unexpectedly dangerous if Mastered.
As Paul watched through the one-way glass, the interviewer glanced at the piece of paper he'd been given. "What's your name, son?"
The boy had acne and hair that kept flopping over his eyes. "Uh, George. George Farris."
"And your father's name?"
"Peter Farris."
"Your mother's name?"
"Michelle Farris."
"Do you have any sisters or brothers or pets, George?"
The boy's father, Peter, cleared his throat impatiently. "What's this all about? Surely you've got all this information about him already."
"Sir, your son has been under the influence of a notorious Master," explained the interviewer. Paul knew he would've already had this laid out for him, but some people needed to hear it twice or three times before it sank in. "We need to determine his state of mind, and what he recalls of his life."
"Oh. Okay, then."
Farris senior subsided again.
"Where were we? Ah, yes. Do you have any siblings or pets, George?"
"Um, no brothers or sisters, but I've got a hamster called Peewee."
"Very good. Do you know why you're here?"
The boy nodded. "Yeah. That asshole Valefor looked in my eyes and made me tell him stuff."
"That's correct." The interviewer, a Neil Partridge, had been brought in from New York. By all accounts, he was trained to deal with children, and so far he seemed to be doing well. "What did he make you tell him?"
The boy glanced at his father, who nodded encouragingly. Looking back at the interviewer, he took a deep breath. "He, uh, he wanted to know who Atropos was. So … so I told him who I thought it was, and said it was what Emma said. So, he asked me about Emma, and I told him, and where he could find her. Then he told me to forget that I'd told anyone anything. And I did, but a bit later when I was in home room, I suddenly remembered everything."
"That's very interesting. He made you forget, but then you remembered again?"
The interviewer made a note.
"That's what happened!"
The boy was starting to get defensive now.
"I'm not doubting you." The interviewer's tone was conciliatory. "I just find it interesting that you were made to forget something, but as soon as the power influence was removed, you remembered it again."
"Oh. Right."
"So … just out of curiosity … what was the name you gave Valefor?"
Paul moved quickly, slapping the red button beside the window. A buzzer sounded in the room beyond, then he thumbed the microphone button. "You can ignore that question."
The kid didn't even look around. "I wasn't going to answer it anyway. Screw that. I like living."
"Good. This interview is over. Guard, escort the Farrises to Observation Room Three. Mr Partridge, stay back a moment, please."
Paul watched as the father and son left the interview room, waited for the door to close, then pressed the microphone button again. "Pack your things. You're going back to New York."
Partridge looked shocked. "I was just—"
"Do not finish that statement. That question is
never
to be asked about Atropos, ever, under any circumstances. If she wants us to know, we will find out. This
will
be going in your file, and I
will
be filing a complaint. Now go. If you hurry, you can catch the noon transport."
Heaving a sigh of relief at the close call, Paul left the room and headed to Interview Two. Miss Militia was in the observation area as he entered; she gave him a polite nod. "How's it going with the other kid?" she asked in an undertone.
He grimaced. "Kid's fine, or seems to be. Partridge straight-up asked him what Atropos' real name is. I booted him back to New York. How's this one going?"
She chuckled. "Pretty sure she's not Mastered, but … check it out."
Paul turned his attention to the redheaded girl, young enough to be his granddaughter, in the room beyond. She wore black Goth-style makeup and had both parents in attendance. Both seemed to be looking at her in mild shock.
"…
you must understand, we do not worship Our Lady in Darkness, for she has forbidden that. We merely follow Her teachings, and attempt to do good in the world and spread the word of Her harsh mercy."
"But …"
This interviewer, one of the female PRT officers, looked out of her depth. "Emma, you've already said you know she set you up to be Mastered and interrogated by Valefor. Why are you so devoted to her?"
Emma smiled serenely. "It is true that I thought I had betrayed Her trust in not being able to hold back Her true name from the ears of the Unworthy, but I have since been informed that no living person has ever been able to resist his unclean gaze. Until he met Our Lady in Darkness, of course. None have prevailed against Her, and none ever will. Yes, She informed me of Her destination, knowing that I lack Her strength of will, and would thus draw the Unworthy to their doom at Her hands. That was Her right, and my duty to carry out Her wishes."
"Wow," muttered Paul, impressed despite himself. "This is the one I heard of, the Atropos cultist?"
"That's the one," Miss Militia agreed. "From all accounts, she and the other kid were actually able to hold off on spilling Atropos' real name for a few seconds. He literally had to ask a second time to get the information."
"Christ Almighty." He shook his head. "Are we sure Atropos hasn't got
her
Mastered? Because if I didn't know better …"
"It does kind of sound like it, doesn't it?" Miss Militia chuckled again. "But no. This girl was actually besties with Shadow Stalker before Atropos ganked her, and I suspect she might've had a mental break since then. Atropos has actually told them not to worship her."
"So, we've verified that Atropos killed Shadow Stalker?" Paul had read the claim on PHO, but there was always the niggling doubt.
"She told Armsmaster straight-up when he got to Winslow." Miss Militia shrugged. "Handed over some information that puts Stalker in a fairly crappy light, too."
Paul raised his eyebrows. "Well,
that's
a thing. What happens now?"
"Once the interview's over, they go into observation for four hours. By that time, Gallant will be free to observe the second set of interviews. If they clear that, they'll be free to go home."
"And you think they will be?" He was reasonably confident of the answer, but it was always good to ask.
"I'm pretty sure of it." She hooked her thumb at the girl in the interview room beyond the window. "Kid in there might be nuttier than a Snickers bar on steroids, but she's not Mastered."
Paul took another look at the girl's parents. They were looking more concerned by the minute. "Let's hope she gets some therapy soon."
He was pretty sure Miss Militia was smiling. "Thankfully, sir, that part's not our problem."
<><>
Atropos
I was sitting at the same table on the Boardwalk at precisely 4 PM. The same limo came cruising down Lord Street, but instead of finding a parking spot, it pulled to the side of the road to let Citrine out. She walked over toward me, her footsteps steady even when I turned my head to look at her.
I kept quiet as she sat down opposite me. It was tempting to open with a joke like
we're going to have to stop meeting like this, people will get ideas, but that wasn't the tone I wanted to set. Instead, I looked out toward the Bay.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" I asked. "You should be here for sunrise. It's particularly pretty, this time of year."
"Uh … yes, yes, it's very nice," she stammered, thrown out of her script.
"I grew up here, in this city," I continued. "My parents did a reasonable job of hiding the seamier side of life from me when I was young, but as I got older, I could see more and more cracks in the way things ought to be. Crime, gangs, drugs, poverty, all going around and around in a vicious, self-perpetuating cycle. Add in supervillains and Endbringers, and you could be excused for thinking there's no way to stop it all, so why even try? Why not get what you can while it's there for the taking?"
She waited a few seconds to make sure I wasn't going to continue, then nodded. "It's a problem, yes. My employer—"
I raised a finger, and she quieted. "We're not here to talk about Accord. We're here to talk about you. Even though Brockton Bay's economy is currently growing, it's going to be fragile for quite some time to come. Yes, there's a lot of money washing around right now, but most of it's going into the hands of people who've never had much to spare, so they don't know how to handle it. Given the wrong temptations, they'll just fritter it away instead of bolstering up their lives and making Brockton Bay stronger in the process. And
you
wanted to bring in exactly those temptations to wave in front of them, just so your boss would give you kudos for garnering him a little extra profit."
She was silent for a long moment. "I humbly beg your pardon—" she began.
"I don't give it, not yet," I interrupted her. "You don't understand the exact nature of your screwup yet. So don't ask for it until you do." I watched as her face paled even more under her perfect makeup. "So, are you ready to learn?"
She nodded once, carefully. "I am."
"Good." I didn't smile. "My entire aim as Atropos is to make Brockton Bay into a nice safe,
prosperous
city to live in. In the course of achieving this aim, I've killed literally dozens of supervillains, not to mention the unpowered minions I've had to wade through, and the time I threatened the
Simurgh
with torture until she released all her victims. On Saturday, I killed Nilbog and all his progeny; just this morning, I cut the throat of a member of the Fallen, and threw two others off a roof, to their deaths. Do not believe for an instant there is
anything
I will not do to secure the future of my city, or any measure I will not take to ensure its smooth running and prosperity, for
all
of its citizens. Do you understand your mistake now?"
Her eyes were wide with terror behind her mask now. "I-I'm s-sorry—"
My hand went up. "Stop." She stopped. "Don't say a word. Just breathe." For a long moment, she did as I told her, until I nodded and gestured for her to speak.
"I humbly beg your pardon, for not truly understanding your intention here," she said carefully, looking at the table. "I will not make that mistake again."
"No." I looked her over. "I don't believe you will."
"Thank you." She raised her eyes to my face. "My employer also extends his apologies for sending me, and offers you the option to kill me if you see fit."
I nodded. "Tell him that I accept both your apology and his, and let him know that I consider you more useful alive than dead." I added a little
go-on
gesture with my fingertips.
"Thank you," she said again, standing up from the table. Walking to the road, she seemed to be a little weak in the knees, but maybe that way she would remember the lesson.
As the car pulled over and she got in, I didn't move from my spot. I had another appointment, after all.
Citrine's car pulled away, then Alexandria and Legend landed on the other side of the table, along with a cape I hadn't met yet. It was a great entrance; one second they weren't there, and the next they were.
"Hi," I said. "Have a seat."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
PRT Building ENE Observation Room Two, a little before noonZoe BarnesThe observation room was comfortable, at least. There was a sofa, and a table (fixed to the floor) along with chairs (also fixed to the floor). A restroom with, presumably, the normal fixtures. The water dispenser held paper cups. Zoe noted the lack of sharp corners, and the suspiciously padded walls.Alan had hollows under his eyes that hadn't been there when they walked into the building. His palpable relief at Emma being hale and hearty had taken a hit when they saw her makeup (when
was
she applying that? On the bus to school?), and had vanished almost totally when she started talking to the interviewer. The fervour in her voice was … terrifying.Zoe
knew
cultist fixation. She'd met a few followers of Lustrum before that movement went belly-up due to their leader being Birdcaged. Annette, thank God, had never been that deep into the movement, but some had lived and breathed it. She'd once been spat on by a Lustrumite for saying she wasn't interested, thanks. Fortunately, Alan had been there, or it could've gotten a lot uglier.Emma was showing a disturbing number of signs in that direction. Dressing to look like her idol (Zoe was including the makeup in this): check. Acting as though her idol was infallible: check. Referring to her idol in a Messianic manner, with flowery language: check. Determination to follow every one of her idol's beliefs and rules: check. Putting her idol's wishes above even her own well-being: check.The only good thing in all this was that Atropos was apparently as dubious about the cult aspect as Zoe herself was, and had given Emma
good
rules to follow. Hopefully, this meant she wasn't going to end up in another Lustrum situation. Though why Emma couldn't have just joined that online fan club, Zoe couldn't imagine. It seemed to be fairly harmless, trading photos of the dark-clad cape.Once the guard left them alone in the observation room (Zoe wasn't even going to imagine for a second that they weren't being watched, given the discreet cameras set into the ceiling) Alan pointed at one of the chairs around the table. "Emma. Sit."Emma sat down, though she didn't come across as subdued as she normally would've been in this situation. She certainly wasn't as downcast as she had been when she'd first confessed to bullying Taylor …
wait. Emma and Sophia were bullying Taylor, then Sophia ended up dead and Emma scared out of her wits, and confessing to her wrongdoing? And now Emma's doing everything but worship Atropos? Could there be a connection there?Zoe frowned as she worked through that, then shook her head. Taylor was a sweet child who loved books and called her 'Aunt Zoe' and wouldn't hurt a fly. There was no way she could actually
be
Atropos. It just wasn't possible.We really are going to have to get back in touch after this is dealt with. I need to apologise for Emma's behaviour, at the very least."Okay," said Alan, sitting down opposite his daughter. "Talk to me. What's with this … followers of our lady of darkness thing?"Emma smiled. "We are the Followers of Our Lady
in
Darkness, Dad." Somehow, she managed to slot the capitals into place without sounding pretentious about it. "She is the saviour of Brockton Bay. Can't you see it? The gangs are
gone, the drugs are gone. Every monster that's threatened us since She appeared has
died.
We've needed this for so very long, and now She is here.""That's the thing." Alan was using his Reasonable Courtroom Voice, the one that had won him so many settlements. "She
kills
people, Emma. She's
dangerous.
How do you know you won't be the next victim?""If I am, it will be because I have angered Her one more time, and earned my fatal Warning." Emma smiled and shrugged. "She is a harsh mistress, but a fair one. I Follow her because She is strong enough to change Brockton Bay for the better, but I revere Her because She drew me out of the Darkness and gave me one last chance to help Her in Her mission."He winced. "You already told the lady in there that she told you not to kill people. Please tell me you're not doing that.""Oh, no, Dad." Emma shook her head with a smile. "We would never break Her prohibitions. Instead, we are following Her other directives.
No charity theatre. Do good that actually helps people. Solve more problems than you cause.
So, we are buying toys from the Rogues' Guild, for they are also favoured in Her sight, and distributing them to children in poor areas of the city.""I … what, actually
buying
toys?" Alan blinked. "Where are you getting the money for this?""I have some money saved up from my allowance, and my last few modelling jobs. Some of the others have their stimulus money. The one called Salvage makes toys that can take some punishment, so we buy them from him and go to the community centres that they've put up in the bad areas of town. We hand out the toys and tell people about Our Lady in Darkness, and how She is saving us from ourselves.
They
understand."Zoe sat down next to Emma and took her daughter's hands. The black nail polish was new, but at least it was properly applied. "Emma … are you being coerced into being a Follower? Will something bad happen if you leave?""No, Mom." Emma shook her head, the smile returning. "She does not mandate that anyone Follows her, only what we do. I could cease Following at any time, or even remain a Follower without presenting myself as one, and She would not care. But if I stepped down from leadership of Her Followers, another would have to step up, and they do not have the knowledge of Her wishes that I do. If the Followers strayed from the path, She would become angry, and bad things happen to those who anger Her."Yeah, no shit.
Zoe had seen the pictures and footage that the news outlets had tidied up enough for public consumption. 'Bad things' was perhaps the understatement of the decade.Alan weighed in again. "We just want what's best for you, Emma. It's good that you're helping people and doing good in the city, but people might not
like
you parading around flaunting that you're following her example. You can't take care of yourself like she can. Nobody can."Emma nodded. "That's true, Dad. But enough people have seen Her, and enough know that She can appear wherever She is needed, that nobody does more than shout hateful things at us. And I have caused enough hurt in my life that such punishment is only my due.""Wait." Zoe held up a hand. "You said she 'drew you out of darkness'? Is that some kind of metaphorical thing? Or did she actually lock you away somewhere?""It wasn't metaphorical, Mom." Emma's gaze went distant for a moment. "I placed myself in Darkness, to put myself through a trial to expunge my weakness. She appeared and drew me out and stood me on my feet. Then she put clothing on my back and food in my hand, and gave me the rules by which we Follow Her." For a moment, her eyes dropped to the tabletop. "She may also have yelled at me a little, which I deserved. But She did not prohibit me from following Her and doing good works. Not in Her name, but in ours."Alan frowned. "Let's backtrack a bit. When you were hanging around with Sophia, doing stuff with her, did you consider
her
to be someone special? Because she had powers, too.""No, Dad." Emma chuckled as she shook her head. "Sophia
thought
she was something special, but she was nothing like Our Lady in Darkness. None of the heroes are. Or the villains. You can see that, can't you?"He shook his head. "But Atropos
is
basically just another cape. I mean, no offense to your Lady, but it's true. Right? We don't worship capes. That's not a thing."A rebellious thought crossed Zoe's mind.
But the Fallen worship the Endbringers. And Atropos killed the Simurgh. What does that make her?Emma looked Alan in the eye. "Dad, Our Lady in Darkness isn't 'just another cape'. She's different. She's special. She's
better." A sigh escaped her lips. "Better than I ever was.""But she
kills
people.""She kills
bad
people."Oh, boy.
Zoe could tell this was going to be a
long
four hours.
<><>
The Boardwalk, a little after 4 PMAtroposAlexandria slowly sat down, as did Legend. The third cape, wearing plated armour and a helmet with eye protection, remained standing. I knew who he was, and why he was here, but if he wanted to go with 'silent and mysterious', we could play that game."You knew we were coming," Alexandria said, making it not quite a question."Who
was
that?" asked Legend, looking in the direction Citrine's car had gone."Citrine. One of Accord's Ambassadors. He's coming to Brockton Bay." I waited for the inevitable reaction."What the fuck?" asked the third cape. "You've literally waded through a bloodbath of villains over the last two months, and now you're
inviting
that asshole into your city?""Bastion." Legend spoke firmly. "If you can't speak to Atropos politely, then don't speak at all.""No, it's fine." I gave Bastion a nod. "It's a legitimate question, especially since I initially banned Accord from coming anywhere near here. That was when he was running drugs into Brockton Bay, of course.""So, what changed?" asked Legend. I nearly grinned, but I knew Alexandria would pick that up, so I didn't."Even with the money we were about to get from the Nine, I knew we were going to need a proper plan to fix Brockton Bay without half it going in wasted effort or resources, so I contacted him to draw one up for me. Because say what you like about the man, he
can
make a plan."Alexandria frowned. "And how much did
that
cost you?"I made a throwaway gesture. "Half a million. Chicken feed, really, considering the returns on the investment."Predictably enough, Bastion jumped right into the opening I'd left him. "You paid a
known criminal mastermind
half a million goddamn dollars, when you could've gotten almost as good value from legitimate city planners for one
tenth
of that? What the fuck?""Sorry," I said, not sounding sorry at all. "I misspoke. It wasn't
my
money." I gave them a quick rundown on the escapade with the eighteen-wheeler, the half-mil in cash I'd taken out of the back, and the subsequent drug bonfire.By the time I finished, Legend was wheezing with laughter and even Alexandria had a smile curving one corner of her mouth, while Bastion stood with arms folded, apparently determined not to be amused or impressed. Ignoring his subordinate, Legend thumped the table with his fist. "You destroyed his shipment and paid him with
his own cash?""How did you know he wasn't going to sell you a dud plan?" asked Bastion."Because I would've known." I looked him in the eye, or where his eyes were behind the opaque protection. "And because I didn't demand it for nothing. But mainly because this is the first time anyone's ever requested a plan from him to improve a city, funding already available. It would've been utterly irresistible to him."I knew he was frowning under the helmet. "What's that got to do with anything? One plan's the same as another, right?""Nope." Now I let myself grin. It didn't matter if Alexandria figured it out. "Accord's in the crime game because he wants to fund a plan he's got to fix the
world.
Hunger, energy, pollution, everything.
Everything.
He's had this plan for
years. But nobody wanted to implement it when he was a PRT consultant, and nobody wants to implement it now. However, if the worth of his plan to refurbish Brockton Bay and bring
everything
up to speed can be proven—and it
is
working—then he'll have an example to point to when he's trying to sell the big one.""And you're doing this to help him sell his big plan?" asked Legend, having recovered somewhat."Hell, no," I retorted, my grin widening. "As far as I'm concerned, the big kahuna can sink or swim on its own merits. But he's totally invested in making
this
one work, and I'm down with that. Anyway, because of the way the variables are changing with this plan, he's asked if he can move operations here so he can keep a closer eye on things, and update the plan as needed. Citrine and I were just discussing a few aspects of the situation, like how he can't bring any crime here.""I … see." Alexandria nodded once, slowly. "That's a remarkably pragmatic way of doing things. And from what I hear—" From Contessa, no doubt— "it does indeed seem to be working.""That's why I'm doing it this way." I gave her my full attention. "However, before we get onto the business that you want to raise, I have an issue of my own. Specifically, Director Wilkins and the idiot she sent to Brockton Bay. Am I going to need to kill her? Because she's already been warned, and I will if I have to.""The Chief Director has informed me that Wilkins has already been removed from her position, and is in custody pending a formal indictment," Legend said hastily. "Partridge has been severely reprimanded and demoted in grade. Neither one of them needs to die."I let him sweat for a few seconds, then nodded. "That's acceptable, for the moment. Also, Deputy Director Renick deserves an attaboy for his quick thinking.""I'll speak to the Chief Director about it," agreed Legend. "I'm sure she'll be amenable."I just bet she will,
I thought with a smirk directed at Alexandria. She was the only one who noticed it, and her lips tightened briefly."Is anyone going to tell me what this is about?" asked Bastion. "What's Director Wilkins done?""Primed the guy she sent to the Brockton Bay PRT to try to find out my real identity," I informed him. "Not that I'd be in much danger if that got out, but I do have family and friends. If they got hurt as a result, everyone involved would die."I didn't raise my voice or change my tone when I said the last four words, but he flinched anyway. "Oh.""Fortunately, that doesn't have to happen." Legend sounded quite pleased about this state of affairs. "So, the next thing we wanted to talk to you about. Director Piggot's report waxed downright lyrical about how thoroughly you dealt with Ellisburg and Nilbog. We were wondering if you'd be willing to take on the same kind of deal for Eagleton.""The Machine Army," I said. "Just to be clear, they're the ones you want me to kill.""For ten percent of the annual budget for keeping the place under quarantine, for the next ten years," Alexandria confirmed. "Straight to the Betterment Committee, as usual?""Sounds like a deal." I rubbed my chin, pretending to think about it. "I'll drop by tomorrow afternoon and deliver their twenty-four-hour warning. Give them one full day to surrender to PRT forces and submit to containment. If they've failed to do this by Wednesday afternoon, I'll kill them all."Bastion had been quiet since my "everyone involved would die" comment, but now he spoke up again. "Excuse me, not trying to trash talk you or anything, but how the
hell
are you going to do that?""With panache," I stated solemnly, "and style.""I apologise for Bastion," Legend said to me. "He wouldn't have been our first choice to do what we're here for, but as Eidolon's out of the running, he's our next best bet."I shrugged. "Like I said, not a huge problem. I've heard worse. So long as he does the job, I'd don't give a damn what sort of language he uses. So how
is
David doing, these days?"If Legend was surprised that I knew Eidolon's real name, he hid it well. "Resting. Relaxing. Adjusting. Enjoying being able to sleep in. He's getting a medal for his sacrifice. Right now, he's kind of
the
on-site cape emeritus, being that he's the first cape from our generation who's actually been able to retire and make it stick. He says that in a year or so he might start writing his memoirs.""Well, good." I gestured in the general direction of the Boat Graveyard. "So, did you need directions, or do you already know where it is?""I saw it on the way in," Legend assured me. "Did you need a lift, or will you make your own way?""I'll be fine." I swung my legs over the seat and stood up. "I'll see you there."
<><>
AlexandriaRebecca grabbed Bastion under the arms and took off straight up. He grunted a little with the acceleration, but she wasn't much worried about his finer feelings right then. No matter that Atropos had professed to be unworried by his rudeness, his outbursts
could
have alienated the cape who was apparently their best bet for dealing with Scion himself.She honestly had no idea what to think about that aspect of things. When Atropos had first started making waves in the ENE region, Rebecca had dismissed her as just another edgelord newbie cape, riding high before the inevitable crash and burn. After all, anyone could get a lucky shot in against a more experienced opponent. The fact that she was killing her targets just meant that either she'd be arrested and Birdcaged like Gavel, or (more likely) she'd pick the wrong target, get dogpiled, and end up face-down in an alley somewhere.But neither of those things had happened.Atropos had confidently predicted that she'd kill the most feared and respected capes in the city, and she went right ahead and did it, even working to a self-appointed timetable. This had been enough to spook their respective gangs (and smaller, unaffiliated gangs) into fleeing the city. By the time the dust settled, Atropos was the only villain standing in Brockton Bay.Also by this time, she'd also shown herself to have some level of combat Thinker ability, enough to checkmate Contessa so thoroughly that the older woman
still
got pissy when she was reminded of that particular incident.And then she proved it beyond all doubt, by removing both the Nine and Butcher from consideration in quick succession. Rebecca had no idea how Atropos had managed to avoid being turned into the next Butcher, but every Thinker she could point at the problem verified that it was just Atropos behind that mask. Interestingly enough, unlike a lot of capes, the girl seemed happy to target Masters and take them clean out of the picture. She'd made this clear with her takedowns of Heartbreaker, Mama
goddamn
Mathers, and the grandmaster of Masters herself, the Simurgh.Just for the last two, Rebecca was willing to grant Atropos a
huge
amount of leeway, so her requested prices for her
extremely effective
services were no burden at all, when it came down to it. What she
didn't
need were self-opinionated assholes poking at Atropos and perhaps annoying her to the point that she stopped cooperating with the PRT and Protectorate.As though she'd communicated this to him telepathically, Legend came up alongside them as they flew north. He didn't look thrilled, at all. "Bastion," he said. "Consider yourself on report, when you get back to Boston. You will be stepping down as leader of your team until you've completed a thorough course of training in speaking politely to S-class threats, or whatever else Director Armstrong can dredge up for you.""But—" Bastion stopped speaking and actually thought about what he was going to say, which was a wise choice considering that he was talking to his boss. "Yes, sir.""Good answer. Ah; she's already waiting for us." He accelerated away from Rebecca and Bastion.She could've kept up, but carrying someone at speed was awkward and problematic when it came to wind resistance. Besides, she didn't
quite
feel like finding out if Bastion could still use his powers with dislocated shoulders.In less than a minute, she was descending toward the section of Lord's Port nearest what was colloquially known as the Boat Graveyard. It was an apt name, with forty-odd ships of varying sizes (all big) rusting at anchor, some half-sunken. The mouth of that section of the harbour had been blocked by a sunken container ship, making it impossible for the other ships to leave.As Legend had noted, Atropos was standing at the dockside, awaiting their arrival. Rebecca was
reasonably
sure she didn't have access to Doormaker, so she must've used whatever form of teleportation she evidently possessed. The idea of someone with Atropos' particular capabilities also being able to teleport was enough to put an itch between anyone's shoulder-blades.
If we hadn't told her Wilkins was already being punished, the idiot would be dead by now.They landed briefly on the dock and surveyed the task before them. "Biggest one first, just to get it out of the way?" suggested Legend.Rebecca nodded. "It's full of water, so I'll probably have to punch holes in the bottom to let it drain.""How
big
is that, anyway?" asked Bastion. "It's hard to get a good read on it from here.""Four hundred thirty yards long, sixty yards across," Atropos offered helpfully. "A shipping company deliberately anchored it there, to lock everything else in here, then people who joined the protests specifically to cause trouble scuttled it."Bastion nodded to acknowledge the information. "Jesus, okay. I'll do my best."
<><>
Atropos"That's what we're here for." Legend took off and Alexandria followed, carrying Bastion. I watched as they flew out to the half-sunken ship. Part of the deck was awash—it got that way near high tide—but they landed on the dry area. I pulled out a pair of binoculars I'd stashed in my pocket and proceeded to watch the action.After a minute or so of discussion, Alexandria and Legend lifted off while Bastion started generating a force field that wrapped huge glowing bands around the entire ship. Alexandria flew down into the water, probably feeling how deeply it was embedded in the bottom mud, and Legend fired a laser that blasted open a deck hatch. The water inside erupted into a massive column of steam that quickly climbed skyward. Bastion, I noted, had a secondary force field covering himself at this point.The force field he created ended up with a large 'handle' near the midpoint. Alexandria came up out of the water and got up under the handle … then started to lift. At first, nothing happened, but I knew she was just testing the weight. Legend was still blasting the laser into the hold, evaporating the water and causing huge volumes of steam to belch upwards in a tremendous cloud.And then Alexandria
lifted, or tried to. At first, the ship started to move, but then the force field 'handle' cracked and broke apart, followed quickly by the rest of the field. Alexandria, who had shot upward, came back down and they had another consultation.As Bastion stood back and shielded himself with another force field, Legend flew up and generated a bright red laser that began to slice into the ship itself. Sparks flew and more water flashed into steam, but he wasn't taking no for an answer. In an impressively short time, he'd carved the ship clear in half, the edges still glowing red.This time, Bastion wrapped the glowing bands around just one end, and when Alexandria hefted it, it came up out of the ocean. Water deluged from the open end, along with more pouring from the holes she'd apparently bashed in the sides while she was underwater.Lifting into the air a little more, the entire half-ship turned in a stately fashion, still releasing thousands of gallons of seawater back into the harbour every second, and headed for the dockside. I watched as it came, and pointed to where they could put it. This was a large expanse of dockside space that had once been used for storage of containers and other items, but every usable piece had long since been picked over and taken away.Legend must have figured out my intent and communicated it to Alexandria, because the ship veered in that general direction and gradually lost altitude until it settled down on the cracked (now somewhat
more
cracked) concrete. Between its long immersion and the fact that it had never been intended to sit on dry ground, it partly collapsed more or less as soon as it touched down and Bastion dropped the force field holding it together. This didn't matter to me; it wasn't my ship. All that mattered was that it was
out of the damn way.I gave them a double thumb's up, which Legend returned as they flew overhead on their way back out to fetch the other half. This one didn't give them nearly as much trouble, after which they went after the main mass of ships.The ones that were still floating at anchor, they left where they were; they could be towed away as needed, or even pulled up onto a slip and repaired. But the half-sunken ones were treated the same as the container ship. Wrapped around with Bastion's force fields, hefted by Alexandria, they were unceremoniously hoisted out of the water and dumped on dry ground to consider their sins.After the last one crunched onto the now-sodden concrete—there was a lot of stinking seawater pooling there and running back into the harbour—Legend flew over and landed in front of me. "Well, the ships have been moved," he said. "Was there anything else? I could cut them up for you.""Hm." I considered the idea, then shook my head. "No, I appreciate it, but I'm sure we'll be able to find people willing to do it. Give the local economy a bit more of a boost."He nodded in understanding, and offered his hand. "Well, then, it's been interesting."I shook it. "Good to see you again. Take care.""Likewise." He took off straight up and joined Alexandria and Bastion, who were already at altitude. I didn't bother waving as they headed southward toward Boston.As the sun sank toward the western hills, Lord's Port looked oddly empty. From the mouth of the harbour all the way to the dockside, fewer than half the obstructing ships now interrupted the view. Dad, I decided as I set up the teleport home, was going to be positively
thrilled.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
Relevant Side-StoryMonday Evening, February 28, 2011New York Wards BaseFlechette"… anonymous tips, German authorities have successfully apprehended several high-ranking members of the terrorist group Gesellschaft …""… once known as Eidolon is to address the United Nations General Assembly on the topic of integrating capes into society at every level …""… shotgun that killed the Simurgh continues to draw record numbers of sightseers on its fourth straight day on display at …""… stepping down from the position, citing workplace pressures. Director Wilkins' duties will be taken up by her deputy until a replacement can be …"Lily hit the button on the remote, and the TV shut off. The news was nothing she hadn't seen before or known about already, and she had her suspicions about the Director's sudden 'retirement'. Nothing concrete, of course, but it was an open secret in the building that Wilkins hated Atropos. Not so much as to order an attack on her—the woman wasn't fucking suicidal, after all—but the amount of love lost between them could only be measured in negative numbers.
Large
negative numbers.It was also just a
little
suspicious that this was coming on the same day that Atropos had killed two more villains in Brockton Bay, at a
school
no less, by throwing them off the roof. (Because they were the Fallen, of course). She hadn't killed anyone in days, and
now
Wilkins was choosing to retire? Lily was no trained detective, but something about that registered on her bullshit-meter."Hey, Lil. Duck season!" That was Shelter, on his way to the kitchenette."Wabbit season!" She grinned and held up her hand, palm out.
Fuck you, March.He gave her a high-five and kept going. "Want anything from the fridge?""I'm good, thanks." She leaned back on the sofa, the grin still on her face.Life since Canberra had been nothing short of hectic. Everyone on the team had been intensely jealous that they hadn't gotten to be there, but nobody had been a dick about it. Her photos had been copied, shared around, printed out, framed, and used to form the core of a post-action debrief session (alongside
Dragon's
imagery) to confirm that yes, the Simurgh was actually, indisputably, dead.She'd already been interviewed twice, and talk shows were clamouring to get her on as a special guest. Image had been run ragged deciding which offers to accept, and in which order; if she understood matters correctly, there was an intense bidding war going on under the surface. Even outside that, she'd been the recipient of a literal
ton
of fan mail, which Image had also had to cull through and toss the truly unacceptable messages.There'd been no fewer than three offers to ghost-write her personal story of the death of the Simurgh, plus one for her to participate in a full-scale on-site re-enactment. The PRT was still holding off on all of those until the furore calmed down a little; the current suggestion was that they'd reconvene in Canberra on the first anniversary of the event and do the re-enactment then. As for whether or not they'd use the unofficial name of the instant national holiday the Australians had come up with ('Bin Chicken Day'), that had yet to be determined.The 'duck season/wabbit season' call-and-response had become customary within the building, not just with her. She'd seen none other than
Legend
using it with Prism, and PRT troopers were apparently using it among themselves as well. As Jouster had explained it to her, it wasn't just a joke; every time it was used, they were saying
the Simurgh is dead. Thank God.She snorted to herself.
Thank Atropos, maybe.
It was still just a bit of a wonder to her that the enigmatic cape had chosen
her
as a sidekick on that day. From what she'd seen, even if she had chosen to refuse to assist (hah! As if), Atropos would've found another way to do it.But it was more than just capes helping each other out against a mutual enemy. Atropos had mentioned friendship more than once, and she'd even invoked the term when naming the shotgun. It was an odd feeling, being considered a friend by someone who self-evidently didn't
need
allies, but had chosen to reach out anyway.Her phone rang, and she took it from its pouch. With the way her thoughts had been going, she was entirely unsurprised when she saw the name on the caller ID screen. "Hi, Atropos. What's up?""Hey, Flechette."
Atropos sounded as cheerful as ever. "So, got some good news for you, plus a question."Lily paused. Good news was always welcome, but from Atropos, she had no idea what that would entail. As for the question … that was
definitely
going to be interesting. More interesting than killing the Simurgh? She had no idea. "Okay," she said cautiously. "Hit me.""Good news first." Atropos was definitely happy today. "Remember the leave request you made to come to Brockton Bay and see Emily? Well, that'll be going through shortly. Turns out Wilkins has been sitting on it.""… oh." Lily blinked. "But … why?" Why was Wilkins sitting on it, she meant. The other bit was easy to figure out. If Atropos wanted it to go through, it would go through."Well, we both know she doesn't like me, and because we hung out a couple of times, you got caught in the middle. Sorry about that." She actually sounded sincere. "Might've been the time I held my shears to her eye, or maybe when I went over her head to take you to Canberra.""But I didn't have anything to do with either of those things. I didn't even
know
about the first one!" Now Lily was curious about that, but not enough to ask."I know that, and you know that, but she couldn't get at me, so she decided to block you from coming to Brockton Bay because I was a 'bad influence' on you or something. Petty, I know, but it takes an adult to be really childish.""Oh, God, yeah. I know all about
that." Lily rolled her eyes, recalling the drama with her foster parents. Instinctively, she lowered her voice. "So, uh, did you have anything to do with her, uh, stepping down?""Well … yes and no. I didn't go to Director Costa-Brown and tell her to give Wilkins the boot, if that's what you're asking. She did that to herself. But she
is
out because of me. And the new Director, who'll be stepping up in the next few days, is a lot more reasonable about things like that. So, yay. Good news."Lily had to smile at the upbeat tone of the last four words. "Well, thanks. That
is
good news. And I'd like to thank you again for the March thing. It's amazing how much easier my job is without having to deal with her on a regular basis.""Hey, you chose to show up at the fundraiser of your own accord. I wasn't about to let her ruin that for either one of us."Ignoring the obvious implication—that Atropos had known ahead of time how she was coming to the fundraiser—Lily forged ahead. "So, um, what was the question you wanted to ask?""Oh, yeah, that. So, tomorrow night, I was wondering if you were available to come and help me rehabilitate a supervillain. No death involved. Not even a Ravioli job. Just straight-up improving their quality of life to the point that they decide not to be a villain anymore."Lily blinked. This was so far out of left field that it hadn't even registered on her list of things Atropos might ask of her, but at the same time it was so totally like the black-clad cape to ask something like that. "Um … rehabilitate? How am I supposed to help with something like that? Shout encouragement from the sidelines?""Nope. You will actually be involved in a meaningful way. Also, you'll get to meet and work with some very cool capes. Also
also, there'll be someone there who you've actually met before.""But you're not going to tell me who that is right now, are you?" Lily was starting to get the idea of how Atropos' mind worked. The girl did love her secrets, but she was also very good at doing stuff with them. "Or who the villain is, even?""What, and spoil the surprise?" The amusement in Atropos' tone confirmed her suppositions. "I'll just tell you right now that there'll be no combat and no arrests. Just one less villain and one more rogue. So, what do you say? You up for it?"Lily didn't bother asking if she'd be able to get permission to go. Atropos treated permission as something that
other
people worried about. She would've been a 'better to beg for forgiveness' sort of person, except that she never bothered with forgiveness, either. "What the hell. Why not?""That's the spirit. You come off shift at six. I'll be there at seven, and we'll be done by eight. See you then. Toodles!" Atropos ended the call, leaving Lily staring at the phone.My life was much simpler before all this. Also, it had March in it, so there's that too. Not even going to wonder how she knew my Wards shift.After a few moments of thought, she got up and went to find Jouster. It wouldn't change the fact that she was going, but he would likely appreciate being kept in the loop about something like this.Life with Atropos as her friend, she decided, was definitely weirder but much more rewarding.
<><>
AtroposI ended the call and leaned back on the sofa. "Well, Flechette's in." In the back of my mind, I noted that Lily had just joined the group of people my power considered 'worth looking out for'. This was good; I approved.Cherie, seated at the other end of the sofa with her legs curled up under her, looked up from the copy of
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory
she was working her way through. "Well, that's a total surprise.""Absolute shocker," chimed in Dad from the kitchen, where he was stirring the casserole. "I never would've called it in a million years.""Oh, ha ha." I blew them a raspberry. "You could at least
act
surprised.""Taylor, hon," Dad said gently. "Your choices of action sometimes take me by surprise, but the fact that you consistently succeed rarely does, especially since I've had the chance to experience how bullshit powers really are."Cherie closed the book for a moment, using her finger to keep the place. "I'm still impressed at some of the stuff you do, but this particular one, with Flechette? That was a no-brainer. She was always going to say yes.""Okay, yeah, granted." I was willing to admit that she had a point there. I'd put enough work into getting Flechette to see me in a good light that such a relatively innocuous request had a high probability of success. It didn't hurt that her name recognition had been bumped into the stratosphere since the Great Duck Hunt. There were probably people who couldn't name
Legend
in a lineup but knew who she was."So, who's next?" asked Dad.I grinned. "Another no-brainer."
<><>
Deputy Director RenickPaul frowned as his phone rang. There were no calls or meetings scheduled for this time of the evening, and the number of call-outs due to gang activity had literally been zero for weeks. It was nice, being able to keep up with the paperwork for once. So why was someone calling him now, and why did the caller ID not show a name?"Parahumans Response Teams, Deputy Director Renick speaking," he said cautiously."Good evening, Deputy Director," a semi-familiar voice greeted him. "Atropos here. How are you, this evening?"And that explained everything, right there. "I'm doing well. Brockton Bay also seems to be improving by the day, thanks mainly to your efforts. How may I help you today?"Like Emily, he wasn't exactly thrilled about how cavalier Atropos seemed to be regarding the sanctity of life (that is, she didn't consider it at all) but her results absolutely could not be argued with. Each day, more stretches of road around Brockton Bay were torn up, the infrastructure upgraded and renewed, and the new road laid down within the day. Thanks to the money pouring into the city, the improvements were proceeding at a blistering pace, and showed no signs of slacking off."Well, that is the general idea, yes." He thought he heard a smile in her voice. "I have a small favour to ask. Your newest Ward, Miss Medic; would it be possible for me to borrow her for an hour, between seven and eight tomorrow evening? I give you my solemn word that she will not come to any harm. If it makes you feel more secure to send Tenebrae along with her, that's perfectly fine. He's welcome to come too."He stared at the phone, trying to figure out what was going on. "I … may I ask what you need her for?""Sure. I'm going to be rehabilitating a supervillain. Theoretically speaking, I could do the surgical work myself, but she's a lot better at it. I can't cut the corners that she can.""Rehabilitation … with
surgery?" He was entirely lost in the woods now. "How does that work—wait. You aren't going to ask her to do
brain
surgery on this supervillain, are you?" That, right there, was a slippery slope leading into a bottomless morass."Well, she
could, but no. While this supervillain does need therapy, and maybe the occasional dose of antipsychotics, the surgery will not be of the brain variety. It'll be more of the improving-quality-of-life variety. If all goes well, and I see no reason why it shouldn't, we'll be down one supervillain and up one rogue. Sound good to you? Because it sounds good to me.""I suppose …" He traced his lower lip with his thumbnail. Emily had had it much easier; she'd been a spectator while Atropos just went ahead and
did
things. Having to deal with an Atropos who actually
asked
before doing something was more than a little surreal. "May I ask what your plans are for this villain? Because please don't take this the wrong way, but you rarely do things for nothing.""No, that's totally true. No offense taken whatsoever. The Brockton Bay Betterment program is going to be expanding in radius, and this supervillain is in the area that will eventually be overtaken. I'm thinking if we co-opt them now and give them reasons not to be a villain, that's a future problem dodged altogether. Also, they're potentially useful to me, once given a new lease on life. Trust me, I'm absolutely operating on enlightened self-interest, here.""Ah. I see. Well, I can't argue with that." Oddly enough, he had no qualms with actually releasing Miss Medic and Tenebrae to Atropos' care. Tenebrae's reports of Atropos' interactions with his sister and cousin made it abundantly clear that the only ones in danger would be anyone trying to mess with
them. Now that he had a workable understanding of her motives, he felt comfortable with the next step. "And I can't see a problem with Miss Medic and Tenebrae being temporarily detached for duty with you between seven and eight tomorrow night. In fact, from what I understand, she'll probably be delighted.""Thank you. I suspect Tenebrae will be less delighted, but I figure I'll win him around eventually." Atropos sounded somewhat amused at the prospect. "In the meantime, I know he'll supply you with a complete after-action report. Heck, if you want him to wear a wire, I'm good with that too."Not for the first time, Paul got the impression that she was bending over backward to put him at ease. And despite the fact that he knew she was doing it, it was
working.
She was saying exactly the right things at exactly the right time, in exactly the right way, but it
felt
spontaneous and natural.She'd actually been doing that from the very beginning, he belatedly realised, saying what she needed to say in the right way for it to be heard, so that people took notice. The name of Atropos had spread with almost terrifying speed through the infosphere, buoyed and boosted by the ruthlessness of her kills. But now that she needed to kill less, her message was changing subtly, reinforcing the fact that her word was her bond. Whether she set her sights on killing the supposedly unkillable or fixing the supposedly unfixable, that thing got
done."Would you object to a body-cam?" he asked. "Just to keep the bean-counters happy, you understand." The fact that he considered himself a bean-counter was entirely beside the point."Not in the slightest. I appreciate your cooperation. Oh, and tell Director Piggot congratulations from me. Toodles!" The call ended.He slowly put the phone down, wondering how his life had gotten so strange that he could have a friendly conversation with a mass murderer and be happy to do what she asked.
And what was that about Emily, anyway? Congratulations for what?He was sure he'd find out eventually. But in the meantime, he needed to get into contact with Tenebrae and Miss Medic, and arrange for a body-cam to be issued to the former. Recordings of Atropos in action were often disturbing or even horrifying, but they were
always
educational.
<><>
TaylorThe casserole smelled delicious. Cherie hadn't picked up her fork yet; she seemed to be hovering her face over her plate with her eyes closed, blissfully inhaling the scents that made up the whole. It was one of the little habits she'd picked up since coming to stay with us. Tasty, properly cooked food had been a luxury for her, back in her old life. I was teaching her how to make a lasagne, and she was eager to put her lessons into practice."So, how'd everyone's day go?" asked Dad as he shook some Parmesan over his plate. "Actually, before we get into that; Taylor, were you behind the sudden and inexplicable reshuffling of the Boat Graveyard this afternoon?""Oh, that was old business." I waved my hand dismissively. "Part of the payout from Ending the Endbringers. I got the impression that we're gonna have to clean some nasty gunk out of the port itself, but the ships are definitely out of the way.""I'm reasonably sure there's an appendix in the Plan that will cover that." He chuckled. "And I couldn't be certain, but after I finished discussing the matter with Mayor Christner—he thought it was the Committee's doing, at first—I suspect he did a happy dance around his office."Cherie opened her eyes and grinned. "If that was around sunset, he totally did." She took a forkful of casserole. "Mmm, that's really, really good."I added Parmesan to mine as well, and took a bite. "Yeah, Dad. This turned out amazing. New recipe?""Different sauce, actually." He gestured to a bottle in the middle of the table. "The convenience store over on Westmore is expanding, getting more products in. I saw this and decided to try it out. It seems to work.""It totally does." Cherie took another forkful. "You're on a winner with this one."I smiled, pleased at Cherie's simple enjoyment of the meal; also, at the implications of what Dad was saying. While I normally didn't seek any kind of personal benefit out of my power's machinations, an incidental improvement like this was nice to have."It's you, isn't it?" Cherie had noticed either my smile or my happiness. "You
did this. This is that knock-on effect you were talking about. People get money, money spreads around, everyone's just a little bit better off.""Got it in one." I was equally pleased that Cherie had figured it out. When I'd first met her, she'd been very much stuck in the now, rather than anticipating the consequences of her actions. She was starting to think ahead. This was good. "So, enough about me. Anything happen with you at school after the Fallen fell?""Not much." She paused to eat another mouthful. "Classes were good. I had a bit of trouble with my math, but Mrs Engels showed me where I was going wrong. Oh, and some guy tried to ask me out."That got my attention. She hadn't been in danger or even really upset all day, but this didn't stop my protective instincts rising to the fore. "Yeah? Who?""Uh, don't remember his name. Stoner-looking guy, hangs out with Greg Veder.""Sparky. Oh god." I closed my eyes and shook my head. "Sparky
asked you out? What happened?"She shrugged. "I said no. He took it okay, I guess. Said sorry and walked away. Greg looked like he wanted to yell at the guy." She went back to eating her meal.Well, it could've been a lot worse, on both sides. I suspected she wasn't telling me everything, probably because Dad was right there. We'd talk again later. At least it hadn't been one of the jocks with an eggshell-thin ego, and Cherie was secure enough in herself to not use her power to make him run screaming.A timer in my head ran down, and I took out my phone. "Excuse me a moment. Just have to make another call.""Don't take too long." Cherie mischievously waved her fork toward my plate. "I'm hungry, and this is really good."I wrinkled my nose at her. "Then I'll eat your dessert."With that dire threat delivered, I got up and headed into the living room, mainly to give Dad and Cherie a chance to eat and talk quietly without disturbing my call. I made sure that the caller ID would show the right name, then tapped in the number and hit the call icon."Hello … Atropos?""Hi, Mrs Yamada." I smiled. "Are you free to talk?" In the kitchen, I could hear Cherie telling Dad about the book she was reading. She seemed to be enjoying it. Leaning over, I shut the door leading into the kitchen."I am at the moment, yes. I just got home and took my shoes off. Your timing is exquisite.""I've been told that, yes. So, how's Sveta going?" I knew she was fine, but I wanted to remind Mrs Yamada about something she'd been intending to do, all for the purpose of improving my optics. Expending a little effort to help people was worth it when word was passed on that I wasn't
just
a merciless killer."Oh, she's doing quite well," Mrs Yamada said, her voice warming to the subject. "We've been keeping her under observation, but as far as we can tell, the change is permanent and her body is working exactly like it should.""Excellent." I actually meant it. Sveta had never done me any harm, and in fact had been a gentle soul trapped in a killer's body. In another life, we quite possibly could've been friends. Also, this meant Mrs Yamada was more likely to listen to what I had to say. "So, I've got another escapade lined up, as of tomorrow evening between seven and eight. I'd like to invite you along to observe and meet the subject, a supervillain that I intend to transition to rogue status once their quality of life has been markedly improved. I suspect they'll be needing therapy to keep their new life on track, but I'll leave that diagnosis up to you. Are you interested?""I …" She hesitated. "Well, I'm free during that time. But … may I ask for a little quid pro quo?"I grinned, knowing what she was going to ask, and feeling a little mischievous. "Yes.""Oh. Good. Well, I've been talking with some of the patients at the asylum and …" She hesitated.This, of course, gave me the perfect opening. "You aren't listening, Mrs Yamada. I said 'yes'. I'm willing to kill the powers for whichever of your patients are fine to have it happen.""Oh." She sounded like someone who'd gone to step down the last stair in the dark and found solid floor instead. "Uh, thank you. Do you need a list, or …?""No need. I'll show up in the next few days, once you've finished with the prep to reintroduce them into society." I knew exactly how many there were, so I'd show up with that many dosed grapes, plus one extra, for reasons. "Does that work for you?""It does indeed. And I'd be happy to observe your, uh, 'escapade'. And, of course, meet your subject." Now that I'd agreed to her demands, such as they were, she was quite happy to cooperate."Excellent. Just so you know, there's a contingency in the Betterment Committee plan for offering well-paid positions to any therapists who are willing to work with capes in Brockton Bay, especially those capes employed
by
the Committee." If we had enough money to pay for the big stuff—and we did—then we had enough money to pay for the little stuff, too."Why, Atropos." She chuckled, amused. "Are you trying to
bribe
me into moving to Brockton Bay?""Offering. Giving you the chance of first refusal." I knew she was an exceptional therapist, and had worked with the Wards before now. If any non-cape knew how to help capes (especially young ones) with their issues, she did. "Also, housing prices are eminently affordable. I made sure of it."There were other good therapists out there, some of whom had also worked with capes. They would also be getting offers. I didn't believe in putting all my eggs in the one basket, or even the same building.She paused, long enough that I knew she was tempted. With the way Brockton Bay was going, who wouldn't be? "Well … I'll think about it. No promises.""That's good enough for me. I'll knock on your door at seven oh-two. Toodles."I ended the call and opened the door back into the kitchen. My casserole was still intact, but Cherie was definitely eyeing it off. Slipping my phone back into my pocket, I sat down again, and took up my fork.'Aww, you're back," Cherie observed with a grin. "How'd it go?""Three down, one to go." I took up a forkful of casserole. It was still very nice, even if it was a little cooler than before. "I'll be sending Amy a ping on PHO.""Think she'll bite?" asked Dad, though the expression on his face showed his opinion on the matter."We shall see," I decided. "But enough about that." I turned to Cherie. "So, how's the book going?"Her expression brightened all the way up. "They've just got to the factory and
wow, the descriptions are so amazing …"
<><>
■PRIVATE MESSAGETo: TheRealPanaceaFrom: AtroposSubject: Up For Another Excursion?Hi,So, there's another villain whose life I want to turn around.I'll drop by just before 7 tomorrow night.Interested?■PRIVATE MESSAGETo: AtroposFrom: TheRealPanaceaSubject: Re: Up For Another Excursion?What, another full-body job, or a half-body one?Just checking.■PRIVATE MESSAGETo: TheRealPanaceaFrom: AtroposSubject: Re: Re: Up For Another Excursion?Neither, actually. The subject already has a body, and for a surprise twist, will be keeping their powers intact.Accordingly, you won't be alone on this one. You'll be part of a team I'm bringing in to do the surgery.■PRIVATE MESSAGETo: AtroposFrom: TheRealPanaceaSubject: Re: Re: Re: Up For Another Excursion?Okay, yeah, that's different.How complicated is it going to be if you need a whole team?■PRIVATE MESSAGETo: TheRealPanaceaFrom: AtroposSubject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Up For Another Excursion?I'm pretty sure it's a situation you've never dealt with before.On the upside, the people I'm bringing in are really, really good at what they do.So between you, I'm betting you can get it done.■PRIVATE MESSAGETo: AtroposFrom: TheRealPanaceaSubject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Up For Another Excursion?But are they villains or heroes?Actually, scratch that. I'm in.Goddamn it, you always know how to get my attention.■PRIVATE MESSAGETo: TheRealPanaceaFrom: AtroposSubject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Up For Another Excursion?Mwahahaha. (Sorry, that just slipped out.)Be in costume by 6:56 tomorrow night.Toodles!■
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
Tuesday, March 1, 2011Director Emily Piggot, PRT ENE"Good morning, Samuel." Emily entered her office, to find her personal assistant placing a stack of papers on the desk. "Did anything of note happen last night? Any Atropos incidents?" Did some idiot supervillain die in a preventable and ironic fashion, she meant."No, ma'am. We got word of infighting among factions of the Fallen last night, but that's just making it easier to roll them up." He straightened the stack, then stepped aside for her. "Oh, and Deputy Director Renick left a message for you. It's on top.""Thank you, Samuel." Emily sat down and took a sip from the steaming cup of coffee before putting it down and taking up the first of the papers. It was written in Renick's customary neat hand and read:Emily,Got phone call from Atropos last night (1923), asking to 'borrow' Miss Medic & Tenebrae this evening at 7 PM, to be returned at 8 PM. She indicated that she needed them to help 'rehabilitate' a supervillain (did not give name) & that Miss Medic's safety was personally assured. Given her prior positive association with Laborn family, I gave permission, notified MM & T, (MM is pleased, T ambivalent) and arranged a bodycam for T (pre-approved by Atropos).PS: She also said to congratulate you. Unsure what for.PaulThe crease between her brows furrowing deeper as she frowned, she took another drink of her coffee as she re-read the note all the way through. Atropos was evidently pulling another one of her stunts, which would hopefully not come back to bite the PRT in the ass. Whatever she wanted Miss Medic for, that personal assurance of protection meant that the youngest cape in the Wards ENE would probably be the safest person on the planet. Agreeing to the body-cam merely indicated that she didn't care if the PRT saw what she was up to.The postscript was the most puzzling aspect.
What have I done that Atropos is congratulating me for?
On PHO and in their few face-to-face interactions, Atropos had repeatedly expressed respect for Emily and her efforts to keep the city safe, so this couldn't be any kind of subtle mockery. Besides, Atropos didn't
do
that kind of subtlety. Anyone who got on her wrong side
knew
about it.Her phone rang and she checked the caller ID, half expecting to see Atropos' name. But instead it showed Wilkins' name, from New York. Wilkins was currently occupying a cell while the PRT assembled its case against her, so Emily knew it wasn't her on the other end of the line.
I really should update the name.
Taking up the phone, she swiped the icon. "Piggot.""Ah, good morning, Director Piggot." It was Henderson, Wilkins' one-time Deputy Director, currently holding down the top spot until they could find someone to step up. "Do you have a moment? It's about Atropos.""I do," she said cautiously. "Who's she killed in New York?" Whoever it was, Emily was gloomily certain that Atropos would have a cast-iron reason for doing so. It was one of her little quirks."Nobody that I'm aware of," was the unexpected answer. "But she called up Flechette, and asked if she was willing to help Atropos out with something tonight."Emily's eyes opened wider, and she looked down at Renick's note, her brain making connections and adding to the picture. "Between seven and eight, maybe? Rehabilitating a villain?"There was a distinct pause; when Henderson answered, he sounded honestly surprised. "Well, yes, actually. But how did you know that?"The temptation had never been stronger to make something up about how well she knew Atropos and her ways, but Emily restrained herself. "Because she's borrowing Miss Medic and Tenebrae from here over the same time period for the same reason."Again, Henderson paused. Emily could've sworn she could hear the cogs ticking over in his brain as he did the math. "But New York is
hours
away from Brockton Bay, even flying."She didn't often get to unleash her snark, so it felt good to do it once in a while. "If you'd forgotten, Atropos can teleport." That was one little fact
she
certainly wasn't about to forget in a hurry."Oh." That one word didn't quite inform Emily whether he'd actually forgotten, or if nobody had briefed him. Knowing Wilkins and her biases concerning Atropos, it could've been either. "What do you think she's doing?"Emily was starting to wonder if Henderson was actually paying attention to the situation, or if he was just out of his depth. Either way, the sooner the Chief Director found a replacement for Wilkins, the better. "I believe she intends to 'rehabilitate' a supervillain, whatever that actually means in real-world terms.""Yes, I understood that. I mean, which villain?"And how the hell was she supposed to answer that?
If Atropos wanted me to know, I'd already have tickets to a ringside seat.
"I have no idea which one she's set her sights on, but I pity them already. Because they're going to have zero choice in what happens next.""Are we, I mean, should we … well,
do
something?"Emily rolled her eyes, knowing Henderson couldn't see her, but needing to express her irritation somehow. "Deputy Director Henderson, I'm going to do
nothing
that might interfere with her plans. I would strongly advise you to do exactly the same.""Ah. Thank you, Director Piggot. I appreciate the advice." He actually sounded grateful at being let off the hook regarding Atropos. Once again, Emily wondered what sort of poison Wilkins had been pouring in his ear."You're welcome. Was there anything else?" Even absent the gangs (and what a massive change in operational pressure
that
had brought about) and Atropos shenanigans, she still had a city to watch over."No … no, thank you, Director. I appreciate your time. Have a good day.""You, too." She ended the call and put the phone down, then re-read the note. What sort of rehabilitation, she wondered, would require Tenebrae, Miss Medic
and
Flechette? The phone call had left her only a little more enlightened than before, which amounted to 'not very'.When the phone rang again, barely thirty seconds later, she thought for a moment that Henderson was calling her back. In point of fact, she was in the process of formulating a polite yet pointed way of telling him to run his own damn show and let her run hers, when she registered the name on the caller ID:
Chief Director Rebecca Costa-Brown.Instinctively straightening in her seat, she took a deep breath and swiped to answer the call. "Piggot here, ma'am. How can I help you?"No matter how diligent the worker, having the boss call up for a 'casual chat' is guaranteed to generate worry. Costa-Brown hadn't sent word ahead that she wanted to speak to Emily, so this was something out of the ordinary. Emily was
fairly
sure that she hadn't done anything wrong, but 'fairly' did not translate to 'totally'."Good morning, Emily." Costa-Brown sounded almost genial, which didn't actually help Emily's pucker-factor any. Superior officers affected that sort of tone for subordinates who either hadn't done anything wrong at all, or who had screwed up so massively that the officer was smiling so he didn't strangle them instead. Once again, Emily was unaware of any truly egregious fuckups on her part, but that was unfortunately the nature of fuckups; if they were visible from the start, they would be corrected before they got that bad. "How are things with Brockton Bay today? Running smoothly as always?"Emily still felt as though this was some kind of looming trap, but she answered honestly. "I haven't read today's skim sheet yet, ma'am, but that does seem to be the case. No overnight crises, Atropos hasn't killed anyone since yesterday morning, and the Betterment Committee public works appear to still be in full swing. Atropos
has
requested the loan of Miss Medic and Tenebrae for an hour tonight, but Tenebrae will be wearing a body camera, so we'll have the full details of that once it's done.""Good, good," the Chief Director said in the kind of tone that meant she wasn't really listening. "Emily, I've been consulting with Legend and some others, and we've decided that you're the best pick to take over as Director in New York for the duration.""What." Emily's breath stuttered in her lungs, and her heart seemed to slam to a halt, then bounce back and forth a couple of times. "No. Wait. I was going to retire." She wouldn't have
chosen
to, but all the indications were that the Brockton Bay PRT was going to be winding back to a mere administration post for the region rather than what was necessary to oversee the near-active warzone that had been the city just three months ago. After ten years of scrambling every day to deal with ever-present threats, she would've chafed in a post like that. "I was going to
retire.""And you will still be retiring." Costa-Brown's tone was firm. "The paperwork has gone through. Your last day on duty will be the thirtieth of June. Four months from today. But we
need
a firm hand at the helm of PRT New York for those four months, and you tick all the boxes. In the meantime, your Deputy Director should be capable of holding down the fort in Brockton Bay, correct?"Renick could definitely do that, especially with the current reduction in crime. However, Emily wasn't done yet. Without giving any indication of which way she was going to jump, she carefully composed the question in her mind before asking it. "May I ask what boxes those are, ma'am?"The smile in Costa-Brown's tone told Emily that she'd been expecting the question. "Certainly. You know what you're doing, you don't take shit, you make efficient use of the resources available to you, you're good at handling difficult capes … and you have a cordial working relationship with Atropos."The last item, she knew without asking, was the most crucial. Oh, they were all
important,
but the shadow of Atropos loomed large over the northeastern United States and beyond. Emily had spoken with her, face to face, and had taken her measure.
Terrifying, unstoppable, smart, principled.
The fate of the Nine, of Nilbog, of the Simurgh, was proof of that."I have one stipulation before I accept the new posting." She knew that demanding concessions from the boss at a time like this was a good way to lose the opportunity, but she didn't really care. This was something she needed to do."I'm listening." Costa-Brown's tone didn't give any indication as to whether or not she was inclined to grant the request.Emily took a deep breath. "I want my official retirement to begin five minutes
after
midnight on the first of July, so at midnight I can be the one to announce that the Endbringers are officially Ended."It was stupid, she knew. Atropos had already pronounced the threat from the monsters over and done with. Emily
knew
in her heart of hearts that this was a done deal. But there was no better way she could think of to cap off her career in the PRT than to announce the demise of the creatures that had triggered its formation.To her credit, the Chief Director didn't even hesitate. "Done and done. We'll expedite your transfer to New York within the week. Hopefully you can be there by Thursday or Friday, so you'll have the weekend to settle in and get your bearings.""Yes, ma'am." Emily's gaze fell on the note from Renick, and she blinked. "Tell me something, ma'am. When was the decision reached about me?"This time, there was a frown in Costa-Brown's voice. "Approximately ten o'clock last night. Why?"Emily couldn't help it; she began to chuckle. "Because I have a note here on my desk from Deputy Director Renick saying that Atropos called him last night more than two hours before that point. During that call, she asked him to pass on her congratulations to me but didn't say why. Now I know."Costa-Brown sighed audibly over the phone. "As I said, it's essential that you maintain your cordial working relationship with her. I presume you have arrangements to make, so I'll leave you to them.""Ma'am," replied Emily, just before the call ended. She put the phone down, still chuckling. It was a good joke on Atropos' part; she had to admit that. But beyond that, it had also been a useful way to let her know that Atropos was fine with her going to New York.It would probably be better this way, she concluded. Watching the gradual dissolution of the PRT department that she'd shored up with her own will and stubbornness over the worst of the bad years would've felt like suffering her career-ending injury all over again. Walking away now would allow her to go out on a high note.As the Chief Director had suggested, there were arrangements that needed to be made. But not right at that second. Turning her chair so it faced out the window, she gazed at the skyline, at the view afforded by just one office in the city: hers.I'm going to miss this,
she decided.
But not a hell of a lot.
<><>
TaylorThe audio generation program on the computer hissed and crackled through the cycle I'd set up for it until it came to the end. My phone, leaning against the speaker, recorded every second. I picked up the phone and hit the 'stop record' icon, then started shutting down the computer."And that'll do it?" asked Cherie. She'd been sitting there beside me, not saying a word, watching the audio-graph jumping on the screen as I set it up."It's a one-two punch, but yeah," I agreed. "Ready to go to school?"We both knew that was kind of a facetious question. Free of her father's influence, Cherie was achingly eager to find out what she'd been missing out on from life. Actually learning new things every day was a thrill for her."You know it." She bumped my shoulder with hers as we got up. "Even awkward moments like yesterday with Sparky are kind of amazing, because he just … walked away when I said no. I mean, there are some people who can't help but be assholes, but they're
nothing
compared to my brothers and sisters.""They're probably nicer now," I noted as I picked up my backpack. "I mean,
you're
nicer now.""I guess." I could tell that her personal experience was warring with her understanding that I was probably correct. "Someday I'd like to go find them, and see how they're going. Just, you know, not today.""Got it." We headed out of the bedroom, along the corridor and down the stairs. Cherie's backpack was sitting next to the sofa, and she scooped it up on the way past.As I went through the kitchen to the back door, I saw that Dad had taken the note I'd left him, asking him to bring home one of those high-powered bullhorns they had in the Dockworkers' Association.
Good."You know …" Cherie said as I closed the back door behind us and locked it. "We could always just teleport to school. That way, we could stay and watch TV until it's time to go to class." She gave me a hopeful wide-eyed look.I snorted and hid the key under the fake rock. "We could. Not gonna. It's not a toy, and the bus works just fine."As we headed out of the yard and set off down the street, she shook her head. "This is why nobody would ever really believe you were Atropos. The most famous cape in the world, taking the bus to school. Only in Brockton Bay."I laughed and slapped her on the shoulder. "Damn right."
<><>
Lord's PortAccord"Hmm. Interesting."Yesterday, he knew, the port had been choked with ships: some listing, all rusted, none really serviceable. Today, the port was clear and the bare ground that had once been stacked high with shipping containers now held those same ships. He'd had a plan for clearing out the ships; an elegant plan, one that would've taken several weeks to complete but which had complete economy of action.Atropos had intervened with a plan of her own:
get the heroes to do it.
It had been neither elegant nor economical, but it had only taken a few hours. This required him to scrap that plan and make another one; this one to deal with the now-grounded vessels and to make the port viable for use once more. Where most people would've been frustrated, he looked forward to it."Get me numbers," he said. "Tonnages, pollution types and concentrations, buyers for scrap metal."Plans were already forming in his head, ways and means to disassemble each ship with the least amount of effort. When it came to manpower, he had all he wished to call upon. Money was literally a non-issue."Yes, sir," said Citrine, writing busily in her notepad. She was eager to make up for her faux pas and he was inclined to allow her to do so, considering that Atropos had seen fit to spare her life. If such a prolific and effective killer such as that chose to leave Citrine alive, then he himself could do no less."I've seen enough here. Take me to the marshalling yards." He needed to see for himself that everything was working as planned, and nobody was pencil-whipping the figures. It was unlikely in the extreme, especially in Atropos' city, but double-checking never hurt anyone.The limousine drove off silently, Othello waving their B3C credentials at the gate guard to let them out. As they merged with the morning traffic, Accord looked up at the city skyline. He was determined to adhere to every single one of Atropos' restrictions, in both letter and spirit. This was the first time he'd had the chance to use his plans to entirely renovate a city, and he was
damned
if he was going to pass it up.
<><>
Winslow High School, World Affairs ClassGreg Veder"Hey, Greg."Greg looked up, then his eyes widened as he realised that Taylor was taking a seat at the desk next to his. She didn't look like she wanted to kill him, but he wasn't about to take that as granted."Uh, look, about yesterday," he began. Sparky hadn't shown up yet—or is that because Taylor's already killed him and hidden his body?
His overactive imagination began to run away with him, and sweat sprang out on his brow."Cherie already told me about it." Her voice was low but she didn't sound angry. "She said you tried to tell him not to. I appreciate that. She hasn't had an easy life up until now. She's okay with people making casual conversation, but anything more is a no-no, okay?""Okay," he managed. "Totally okay. One hundred percent." He would've agreed with anything she said right then."Good." She smiled and started to stand up. "Thanks for listening.""Uh, Taylor?" He managed to restrain himself from grabbing the sleeve of her sweatshirt. Having both hands was a thing he'd gotten used to, and he preferred to keep it that way.She paused, looking back at him. "Yeah?"What he'd wanted to say suddenly sounded stupid in his head, but he'd gotten her attention, and he didn't want to piss her off by doing that and then saying 'nothing'. "Um, I used to think we were friends, but I'm pretty sure that I was a crappy friend, if I was one at all."Her gaze sharpened, then she slowly nodded. "That's true." Oddly enough, there was no condemnation in her tone. Just a simple acknowledgement.Before he could lose his nerve, he rattled off the rest of what he wanted to say. "And—and I'm glad you're happier now and you're doing well." Before anything stupid like
you look good
or
you deserve to be happy
or anything else that might sound like he was hitting on her could come tumbling out, he shut his mouth and kept it that way.She nodded again, her penetrating gaze still on him. He got the uncomfortable feeling that she knew what he'd chosen not to say, but she didn't call him on it. "Thank you. I appreciate it." Turning away, she headed back to her desk and sat down, leaving him sitting in a metaphorical (and nearly literal) puddle of his own sweat. She didn't look back.A moment later, Sparky ambled in through the door and meandered over to sit next to Greg. "Hey, man. What's happening?""Nothing." Greg felt the tension easing out of his body. "Absolutely nothing at all."And that was the way he preferred it.
<><>
Hebert Household, 5:35 PMCherish"So that's what you're going to use? Really?" Cherie grinned and shook her head, looking at the bullhorn and the cord Taylor had spliced into it. The other end of the cord was plugged into Taylor's phone, which was in her pocket, quite hard to see unless someone was specifically looking for it.Her scepticism didn't arise from any doubt in Taylor or her capabilities. As far as Cherie was concerned, if Taylor went all Matrix on the Machine Army, they wouldn't stand a chance. But killing them by just talking to them was something she was having trouble getting her head around."Really." Taylor pulled up her sleeve—she was wearing the Atropos costume, without the mask or hat—and flipped open the access panel, then tapped in a whole bunch of numbers. Cherie assumed she knew what she was doing with that thing. "When I go after them, I have to use the right weapon. This is the right weapon.""I just can't see how it works." Cherie was honestly trying, but she was pretty sure she just didn't have the educational background to even begin to understand it."Think of it in terms of powers. You told me about your sister Flor, right?" They'd sat up a lot of nights while Cherie unloaded all her pent-up frustrations about her brothers and sisters. Considering what those siblings had been like before Taylor killed Cherie's dad's influence over them (and her), she'd had a lot to rant about."Yeah, she implants suggestions. Makes you do fucked-up shit that you can't not do. Like having to punch yourself in the head before you can take a bite of food." Cherie looked at Taylor curiously, trying to understand the point she was trying to make. Then the penny dropped. "Wait, this is the same?""Yeah. This is the same. This implants commands. And the command is 'die'." Both Taylor's voice and emotional music sounded grimly satisfied about that."But we listened to it …" Cherie trailed off uncertainly. Was she going to have to listen to something else to not want to kill herself?"Only works on Machine Army. Just like Flor's trick wouldn't work on a robot."That made sense to Cherie. At least, she'd never seen Flor use her power on a machine. "Huh. I get it. I think I get it." She grinned. "They won't know what hit them.""Even if they figure it out, it won't help them." Taylor pulled her phone out and dialled a number. "Hi, yeah, this is Atropos. You've been told to expect me? Good. I'll be arriving in exactly thirty seconds. Main helipad, yes. Okay, see you then."Cherie had taken note of the 'thirty seconds'. "Take care, huh? Don't give those mechanical bastards a chance."Taylor put her phone away, then pulled on her mask and put on her hat. "Don't intend to. Keep an eye on the lasagne." The shadowy doorway formed in midair, and she stepped through with a jaunty wave.Cherie waved back. When the doorway vanished, she headed through to the kitchen. This was the first time she'd cooked proper food in a proper oven with proper instructions, and she was
going
to get it right.Besides, it helped keep her from worrying about Taylor.
<><>
Eagleton Base, TNAtroposI stepped out onto the middle of a concrete helipad, or at least a wide area of concrete with the big 'H' in a circle on it. There were guards posted around, but looking outward, probably to make sure nothing interrupted the teleport. I would've known, but it was good that they were making the effort.The first thing I saw was a sign saying
WELCOME TO EAGLETON BASE. Following that were a whole lot of rules that I had zero interest in following. My philosophy was simple: rules were all well and good, right up until they got in the way."Ah … Atropos?" A PRT officer stepped past the guards and approached me. He was in camo instead of armour, though (like Major Holden, back at Ellisburg) I was willing to bet his armour was someplace nearby if he needed it. "I'm Lieutenant-Colonel Briggs.""I know. I talked to you on the phone about one minute ago. Nice to meet you, Colonel." I shook his proffered hand. "Where do you think you'll be posted after this base closes down?""You're quite sure of yourself." He didn't seem to know what to make of me. I'd noticed that with some people when they met me for the first time, even after watching the footage of what I'd done."I'm really, really good at killing things. A bunch of semi-sapient robots just needs a different approach." With a tilt of my head, I indicated an NCO coming our way with purpose. "You can tell the sergeant that he's not getting any of my electronics."He held up his hand to halt the sergeant but didn't send him away. "It's regulations around here. The Machines are really aggressive, and we've found traces of their programming on unshielded electronics. We don't know if they're remotely hacking them or doing something else, but one of the cast-iron rules around here is that we don't give them access to anything that hasn't been hardened against them." The tone of his voice was a mixture of caution and earnest intent to explain.I looked him in the eye. "Colonel, there is a phone in my pocket. They're welcome to try to hack it. It's currently running three different types of virus that absolutely
will
fuck up the day of anything that links wirelessly to it. The rest of my electronics are linked to the phone." I'd spent most of first period constructing one of the viruses while pretending to browse PHO. Likewise, I wasn't worried about the teleporter because Leet had designed it (at my request)
not
to be able to be wirelessly accessed."Sir?" That was the sergeant.Briggs waved him to silence, apparently so he could think through the conundrum. On the one hand, he had tried and true regulations to fall back on, that had kept the base safe so far. But on the other, I
had
broken every law in the book, and a few that hadn't even been written yet, and I'd murdered capes and an Endbringer that nobody thought could die.Well,
I'd
known they could die. It was kind of my thing."Colonel Briggs!" It was one of the guards. "Perimeter says there's movement inside Eagleton! The Machine Army's doing something!""They just heard that I'm on site," I said cheerfully. "They might be homicidal killing machines, but they're not
stupid.
They have to know I'm here for exactly one thing, and it isn't Taco Tuesday." I didn't even have to make any guesses for this bit; my threatscape was starting to bloom as more and more of the Machine Army heard my name and decided that I would have to die."Well, you can't go in there
now." He looked around as though searching for an available alternative."Why not?" I hefted the bullhorn with my left hand, my right hand free to draw my pistol. "I'm just going in to give them their first warning. I'll only kill them if they get
stupid.""But … they're
ready
for you! They'll
kill
you!" He clenched his fists. "God
dammit.
I didn't know they were going to react this badly.""I did. And you're wrong about one thing, Colonel. They might know I'm here, but they're in no way ready for me." I raised my right hand, just as the timer ran down on my teleporter, and snapped my fingers.I appeared just inside the perimeter wall, on a street that looked identical to any other section of road in middle America. Asphalt, sidewalk, houses, trees. Kids' toys in the yards. Cars sat at the curb. The lawns had been carefully mowed and the hedges trimmed, while the houses had been recently painted. I could hear a TV playing from one house, and music from a radio station in another direction. Just out of sight, around the corner, I could hear the laughter of children playing.It was all very
normal, designed to entice people to investigate the interior of the houses. Which would be a
huge
mistake.Half the cars were (to borrow a phrase) robots in disguise. So were the toys. Something nasty lurked under the manhole in the middle of the street. The houses were the robotic equivalent of Venus flytraps.And they knew I was here.That was fine; I knew they were there as well.I pressed the trigger on the bullhorn; this activated the sound file on the phone. "Attention, Machine Army!" My voice boomed across Eagleton. "My name is Atropos! You know who I am! I'm here to give you a warning! Tell all your friends!" I started walking forward, still talking. "You have two options! Submit to reprogramming, give up your hatred of humanity, and you get to live! The other option is that I come back in twenty-four hours and kill you all!
There is no third option!"One of the toys, a cute plastic three-wheeler, split apart and sprouted spidery legs to stalk after me. I let it get to pouncing distance; just as it leaped toward me, I drew my pistol and blew its braincase apart without looking. The suppressed shot was only a little louder than the clatter of its mechanical corpse hitting the roadway. Parts of the scenery, which had been starting to lean toward me, leaned away again."I'll say this again!" The ones around me were opportunistic killers, not dedicated assault units, but those were on the way. In the meantime, I had a message to spread, quite literally.The audio file I'd crafted and loaded onto my phone edged my voice as I spoke; the machine intelligences listening to it would receive it as computer code, in much the same way as I'd placed patches in Dragon's code. I had no fears of Dragon accidentally catching an electronic cold from this virus if she happened to listen to it, mainly because her programming worked on a totally different format.What they were receiving consisted of two different viruses. One acted immediately but was relatively innocuous. When I said, 'tell all your friends', the virus made them treat that as a command set in stone, so they began to transmit the entire audio of my speech to all their fellows.The second virus was far more insidious. It slithered past their filters and constructed itself in the dim, dark recesses of their processing units, but did nothing dangerous once it was finished. Its only activity would be to embed a harmless ping into the communications between its host and each of its fellows. If it didn't get a ping in a communication, it would send a compressed version of itself back along the same comms route.Still walking, I repeated my whole spiel. "… twenty-four hours and kill you all.
There is no third option!"The first assault units rounded the street corner. There had been no attempts to conceal or camouflage these ones. They were robotic killers, one and all. Nothing an AT-4 couldn't deal with, of course—mechanical limits were still mechanical limits—but thoroughly deadly to an unprepared unit of soldiers. Or, theoretically, a single teenage girl with a bullhorn and a pistol.On seeing me, they stopped. Not
totally
surprising; the footage they'd viewed had to have included the fates of anyone attempting to charge blindly at me. Their best strategic processors would've been hard at work, trying to figure out how I'd kill them if they came at me.I put the pistol away, and waved. "Hi, guys," I greeted them through the bullhorn. "You know how this goes. You gonna be smart about this?"Two more robots, emboldened by the presence of their bigger nastier brothers, were sneaking up on me from behind; one was the thing from the sewer system, while the other had been masquerading as half a car. I pretended not to notice them.The assault units in front of me were doing the electronic equivalent of looking at each other and asking,
can it be this easy?
I carried no heavy weapons, and I'd just put my pistol away. Scans of my body showed no augmentation, no heavy armour, not even a force field. They wouldn't have been sure what the teleporter was, but it only covered my forearm.A whole bunch of weapons were now trained on me. If even one scored a hit, I'd be so much paste. I had to admit, the Machine Army did overkill really, really well.Their problem, which they would've strenuously denied if they'd been capable of doing so, was actually a very human one. Each member of the Machine Army was an independent unit; they weren't under central control, so when they fired on me, they each did it at a slightly different time. This allowed me to dance between the raindrops.I weaved left, then right; the robots sneaking up from behind were obliterated before they knew what was going on. Attacks were going off all around me, a couple of lasers actually perforating my coat (and making it look about twenty percent cooler), but I was never actually there when the payload arrived. Each time I evaded, stepping into the path of a shot that had just gone off, they seemed to get more frustrated, until three of them fired high-explosive shells at the street, directly at my feet. Just before these went off, the teleporter kicked in and placed me a hundred yards down the street."Hey!" I called over the bullhorn. "Over here! Missed me, missed me, now you gotta listen to me!"None of them shot at me. They'd figured it out. I had a teleporter on me, and they
wanted
it. Any sort of shooting might damage or destroy the teleporter, so they had to capture me bodily.While they were working out how to do that, I lifted the bullhorn again. "You've all heard what I've got to say. In the words of one of your idols:
I'll be back."They rushed at me. In fact,
every
robot from every house, car, lawn and playground came at me. The idyllic setting dissolved into a horror-movie scene of clattering metal feet and reaching robotic claws. There was even an animated section of hedge, next to a robotic topiary bush.I had time for one last, "Toodles!" before the doorway formed behind me. I stepped backward through it and onto the helipad where I'd arrived. A three-inch section of curved metal blade got to within a foot of my face before it clattered to the concrete of the helipad, snipped off by the closing portal."Jesus Christ." That was Briggs. The guards were pointing guns at me, but they just as quickly moved them away at his gesture. "Are you alright?""Never better." I picked up the robot claw. "Nice.""So, what are you going to do now?" he asked, clearly under the impression that I'd failed in my objective. "They were never going to listen to you.""Oh, they listened. They just didn't pay attention." I grinned under my mask. "And if they don't surrender by this time tomorrow? Well, I'm just going to have to come back and kill them all.""But …
how?" He glanced involuntarily around at the base that had been established next to the Eagleton zone, then back at me. The body language was clear: if he couldn't destroy the Machine Army with the resources at his disposal, how could I manage it?I gave him the same answer I'd given Bastion. "With panache, Colonel. Panache and style."Relevant Side Story
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
Relevant Side-Story
Relevant Side-Story
Relevant Side-Story
Cherish
Cherie was doing her homework at the kitchen table when Taylor teleported into the living room. Dropping her pencil, she jumped up immediately. "Wow, that didn't take long at all."
"Nope." Unplugging the phone from the bullhorn, Taylor dropped them both on the sofa. "It got a little hectic, but that was always the plan."
Heading into the living room, Cherie caught the smells of dust, of gun-smoke, and of burnt cloth. "Why does it smell like your coat's on fire?"
"It's not on fire, but there's a few holes in it." Taylor took off her coat and shook it out. When she spread it wide, Cherie was just able to see the tiny, scorched laser holes around the lower end, where it had flared out. "The Machine Army got a little trigger-happy, but I got my message across. 'Panache' has been delivered." That was what Taylor had called the virus.
"That's the thing that tells them to die, right?" Cherie took the coat and carefully draped it across the sofa, then gave her a heartfelt hug. "They got awfully close to you, this time."
Taylor hugged her in return. The human contact was nice. "Nothing I couldn't handle. All they hit was cloth and air."
"But they got
closer
than anyone else ever has." Cherie let go and stepped back half a pace, her hands on Taylor's upper arms. She tried to put her concern into words, because Taylor was someone she actually
cared
about. "I don't want you being all overconfident and getting shot because someone's a bit better than you think they are."
"There were a lot of bullets and a lot of lasers, but I knew exactly where to step so they didn't get
me." Taylor took her hat and mask off, then pulled Cherie in close and pressed their foreheads together. "Though I'm truly touched by your concern. Thank you."
Cherie could tell she was being sincere, and the warmth from that spread through her whole chest. "Well, you've literally done more for me than anyone else in my life, ever. So, you'll excuse me if I'm just a bit protective of you." She sniffled, trying not to let Taylor hear it or see the tears standing in her eyes.
"Well, it's all good." Taylor hugged her again. "They're not going to get that close again. I promise."
"I'm glad." Cherie totally meant it. Trying to change the subject so she could wipe her eyes and blow her nose without being obvious about it, she nodded toward the kitchen. "The lasagne's looking good, I think. I mean, it's looking like when you do it. Smells like it, too."
Neither by word nor gesture did Taylor give the impression that she'd figured out the tiny subterfuge, but Cherie knew that she knew. However, she was nice enough to not call Cherie out on it. "Well, let's go have a look at it, shall we?"
<><>
Taylor
Dad got home about half an hour later. I'd been for a shower, and Cherie was just setting the table when I came back downstairs. It was almost heartbreaking (pun intended) to see how well she responded to even mild praise for doing a minor chore like that.
"Hi, girls," he said as he came in the back door. "Is that lasagne I smell?" He'd known, of course, that Cherie was cooking dinner, but his appreciative sniff was as genuine as my own.
"I hope it's okay." Cherie hunched her shoulders. "Taylor says it is, but I'm scared I did something stupid and it'll taste terrible."
"Well, we'll see." He gave her a genial smile, then took off his coat and hung it alongside the door. "It smells good, so that's a great first step. How did you go at school today?"
Cherie beamed. "Mrs Engels gave me an A for my math work today. Oh, and Greg Veder came and talked to me at lunch. He told me he was sorry about Sparky bothering me, and said to come see him if anyone gives me problems and I can't find Taylor."
I raised my eyebrows a little. I hadn't known he'd say or do that. Not that Cherie would ever be unable to find me—my power would tell me if she was upset—but I definitely approved.
"Well, that sounds nice of him." Dad evidently agreed with me. "And congratulations on the A. It shows you're working hard. What do you think, Taylor? Next time we get some free time, we should go to the movies to celebrate?"
"Can't think of a better reason," I said honestly. It was actually a pretty good idea. I'd gone to the movies a few times with Cherie already, but going specifically as a reward for doing well in school would be a first for her.
Dad went and washed up, then we sat down for dinner. The lasagne was delicious, something Dad and I both made sure to comment on. Positive reinforcement was the name of the game, and though Cherie absolutely knew what we were up to, it didn't stop her from feeling good about the compliments coming her way.
"I'm going to have to skip dessert," I announced as I got up from the table. "It's time to go out again, but I didn't want to miss your lasagne."
Dad watched curiously as I went to the fridge and took the two bottles of champagne that had been chilling nicely at the back for a few weeks now. "I've been wondering about those," he ventured. "I don't drink wine, and I'm pretty sure you don't either."
"It's kind of a payment for a favour and kind of a being-a-dick tax," I explained cheerfully. They went neatly into the shopping bag I had ready, and I left them on the table while I went and collected my costume. My teleporter had been sitting on charge since I got home, so I put that on as well, the little green lights indicating that it was full up and ready to go. This was good; I was going to need it.
Dad frowned, trying to figure that one out. Cherie, who'd already heard the story from me, smirked. "Okay …" said Dad eventually. "You … did someone a favour, but they were a dick to you so you took two bottles of wine instead of one?"
"Oh, I took more than that." I waved in the general direction of the basement door. "There's a few more bottles down there, in case we needed one for a rainy day. I'm gonna be bringing one to Director Piggot's farewell party."
The expression on Dad's face was amusing. "You know," he said to Cherie, "one of these days I'm going to learn not to ask questions like that. The type where the answer just involves more questions."
"That does seem to happen around Taylor a lot, yes," she agreed gravely, trying to hide the lurking grin and the amusement in her eyes.
"I'll let you explain it," I said to Cherie as I pulled on the mask, then put the hat on top. "Time to deliver some apology wine."
"Don't ask me about that one," I heard Cherie say to Dad as I tapped in my destinations and set the timer. "I have no idea, either. But she got it when Vista contacted her—"
<><>
Dallon Household, 06:40 PM
Brandish
Carol was leaning back in her study chair, going through the details of a witness statement, when there was a brisk one-two-three-four knock on the front door. She ignored it; Mark was watching TV, Victoria was doing the dishes and Amy was upstairs in her room. Someone else would get it.
The knock came again. She tried not to frown and accentuate the wrinkle between her eyebrows. "Could someone please get that?" she called.
There was no repeat of the knock; she relaxed, getting back into the flow of the document. This lasted just long enough to get to the end of the page, when there came a gentle knock on the door of her study. "Mom?" It was Victoria.
Slowly, Carol turned. "What is it?" she asked, doing her best not to sound angry or impatient, while at the same time trying to project
I-am-busy-here
vibes.
"There's someone here to see you." She'd never heard Victoria sound so subdued before. "I really think you should come out here."
"Well?" Carol mustered her best cut-through-the-bullshit tone. "Who is it?"
"Atropos."
That one name took Carol's concentration, dragged it around the back, and shot it in the head. She stared at her daughter. "What, here? Now? In this house?"
"Yes, here. Yes, now. Yes, in this house." Victoria gave the impression of someone holding on to sanity by their fingernails. "She says she's here to talk to you about Amy. Right
now,
she's discussing TV shows with Dad."
Because of course she is.
Carol jumped to her feet and smoothed her dress down, then snarled inwardly at herself.
Why am I worried about looking good in front of a mass murderer?
Taking a deep breath, she strode out of her study and into the living room.
Atropos was indeed there, sitting in an armchair while Mark explained some point about a show Carol had never watched. They both looked around as she entered, and Atropos stood up again. She was holding a shopping bag with something long and heavy in it.
"Hello again, Mrs Dallon." Atropos might've been smiling from the tone of her voice, but Carol couldn't really tell. She held out the bag. "Apology wine, remember? I said I'd bring some over when I came to talk to you about what I was doing with Amy next."
"Oh." A lot of pieces fell into place at once. "Ah. Yes. You didn't have to, really." But her hand went out to accept the bag anyway.
"Yeah, I did." Atropos turned to address Mark. "Sorry, Mr Dallon. I'm on a little bit of a time crunch right now, but we can definitely get back to this discussion at a later date." She even managed to sound sincere about it.
"Absolutely." He smiled up at her. "It's been an interesting conversation."
Carol wasn't interested in small talk. "We can discuss matters in my study, unless you've got a better place in mind."
"Your study's fine," Atropos agreed. "Lead the way." The morph mask made it just as hard as before to figure out her attitude merely from her voice. Carol was used to being able to pick out tells, but Atropos had none.
"Victoria." Carol handed her the bottles. "Put these in the fridge." The last thing she wanted to do was needlessly offend Atropos by neglecting the gift. The idea that it might be poisoned crossed her mind briefly, then was dismissed equally as quickly. Atropos didn't do anything as subtle as poison.
"Yes, Mom." Victoria accepted them, but lingered as though she, too, wanted to be in on the conversation.
That was absolutely not going to happen. "No disturbances," Carol ruled. "None."
Turning, she led the way back to her study. Atropos followed exactly two steps behind her, and closed the door without being prompted once they were inside the study. Carol mentally debated remaining on her feet, then decided that sitting in her study chair would give her an air of authority that was currently missing from the situation.
She lowered herself into the chair while Atropos stayed standing, near the door. "So …" she prompted, mainly to see what Atropos would say.
"So, I suppose you're wondering why I got champagne from Vista's parents." Carol hadn't been wondering anything of the sort—or rather, it had been the lowest priority matter she'd been wondering about—but Atropos barely paused before launching into the tale.
"Her parents fight, and when they drink it gets worse and they drag Vista into it. She asked me to intervene, and so I took their booze away and gave them an ultimatum. They're both in counselling now, which is a good thing for all concerned." The hint of a smile under that damn morph mask was even more sinister than a fully visible one would've been. "Now, I can tell you've got a question about that."
Carol had many questions, but there was one that was more urgent than the others. "Yes. Why did you help Vista? I didn't even know she
knew
you."
"Oh, she doesn't. She just … called out, and I answered. But why would I, a confessed serial killer, intervene with her parents, especially when I've never met her before? It's simple. She's young, and she's powerful. If someone like that, especially stuck in a rough home situation, ever became disenchanted and discouraged by the situation she finds herself in, she might act out. Turn villain. With parenting comes a certain responsibility to
be
a parent, especially when the child is someone who could devastate the entire city with ease if they were ever deprived of a good role model. Don't you think?"
Atropos' voice was steady, almost hypnotic. Carol stared at the mask, somehow knowing that the eyes behind it were fixed on hers. But that wasn't the worst part. The worst part was the uncomfortable implication behind her words.
She went to speak and found her throat dry. After swallowing, she tried again. "We
are
still talking about Vista here, right?"
"We're talking about whoever you think we're talking about." Which didn't help Carol's state of mind one bit. "But anyway, on to the reason I came over tonight. There's a supervillain who's in need of a certain amount of …
repair, shall we say. I'm moderately confident that once this is accomplished, with the help of Amy and a couple of others, I'll be able to talk this villain into giving up crime and setting out on the straight and narrow."
"A supervillain can't just
stop
being a criminal!" Carol's outburst was almost reflexive. "They've got to undergo restitution for their crimes!" It was one of her most deeply held beliefs.
A moment later, she flushed as she recalled exactly who she was talking to. Atropos had committed more crimes than most, and she was almost certainly going to escape any kind of meaningful punishment for
her
many murders. Whatever the opposite of 'preaching to the choir' was, it applied here.
"After a certain point, punishment for past criminal activity goes beyond rehabilitation and becomes an exercise in sadism and vengeance." Atropos shook her head. "What better restitution than allowing them to use their powers for good, to build a better world?"
"So, who is it?" Carol wasn't sure why she asked the question, save as a way to garner as much information from this conversation as possible. "Which supervillain are you seeking to miraculously convert into a hero, and who else do you have helping?"
"Not a hero." Atropos chuckled. "Rogue at best. Edgy rogue, at that. But with any luck, no longer a supervillain. As for names, I think I'll keep those to myself for the moment. Remove any temptation you might have to try to throw a spanner in the works somehow."
Carol frowned, displeased at the flat denial. "I haven't yet given permission for Amy to leave this house with you." It was, as Victoria called it, the
Mom card, her best power move.
As a trump card, it fell flat. "I wasn't asking permission. You said to knock on the front door and talk. I've knocked, we're talking. You now know as much as I'm willing to tell you. The
only
person who has a say in whether Amy leaves this house tonight is Amy. I'm not going to force her, and you can't stop her."
The absolute assurance in every word, every syllable, took Carol's breath away. Worse, thinking about it, Carol knew Atropos was correct. She
hadn't
made any particular stipulation about Amy's assistance, just that Atropos tell her what they intended to do. And if Amy had already gone out without Carol's knowledge before, she'd be all the more likely to defy Carol's word now if Atropos asked her to. Because teenagers were
like
that.
To Carol's credit, at no point did she consider escalating the disagreement from the verbal to the physical. Cape, normal or
Endbringer; nobody who had faced Atropos in a physical confrontation had won. The ones who'd survived quite likely wished they hadn't.
She rose from her chair and went to the door. Atropos politely stepped aside for her, showing no signs of worry. Opening the door, Carol looked out to see Victoria loitering not all that far down the corridor. Normally she would've been irritated at the potential for eavesdropping, but right now she had other matters on her mind. "Victoria, please fetch Amy for me. Immediately."
"Yes, Mom." There may have been an element of guilt in how quickly Victoria left the scene, but Carol wasn't worried about that.
Leaving the door open, she went back and sat down in her chair. "When she gets here, we will speak to her and, as you say, she gets the final decision whether she goes or not." It wasn't the best move she could think of, and it wasn't the move she wanted to make, but it was the only one available to her.
"Works for me." Atropos had the air of someone for whom time limits did not apply. She stood there while Carol watched the doorway; for all the impatience she showed, she could've been a statue.
"A question, while we're waiting?" The query had bobbed up in Carol's mind, and now she couldn't get rid of it.
Atropos gestured gracefully;
go right ahead.
"Sure."
"The number of people you've killed. Do you … see them? In your dreams?" Carol had had nightmares from time to time, following her traumatic trigger event. Even now, decades later, she had to sleep with the lights on.
"No. My power is
literally
about Ending things. People, legacies, Endbringers. They're all the same to me." Carol could've sworn Atropos raised her eyebrows. "If I kill someone or something, it's because I needed them to die. But I never kill for
nothing.
It's never casual for me. There's always a reason."
Carol had her mouth open to ask another question when there was a rush of running feet, and Amy came into view. Oddly enough, she was in full costume. This normally only happened when she was going out for …
oh.
"Mom," Amy panted, briefly out of breath. "Hi, Atropos. Vicky said you were here."
"Did you know she was coming here?" asked Carol. If Amy lied now …
"Well, I didn't know she was gonna walk in the front door, but yeah, she messaged me last night and asked me if I wanted to help with something." Amy shut up then, which was what Carol
didn't
want her to do.
"And that something was …?" Carol prompted, in her best courtroom manner.
She didn't miss the flickering glance Amy shot Atropos, nor the fractional nod Atropos returned. The good news was that Atropos was willing for Amy to reveal all. On the other hand, the bad news was that Amy was looking to
Atropos
for guidance in that matter.
Victoria was loitering in the doorway, nonchalantly pretending to be invisible, but Carol didn't have the time or inclination to send her away. Besides, a witness was probably best in a situation like this.
Amy took a deep breath. "There's some supervillain, Atropos hasn't told me their name. They need something done to them that I've never done before, so she's bringing in a team to help me out. Once we're done, she wants to rehabilitate the villain to be a rogue. And that's all I know."
Which added exactly zero to the sum total of the knowledge Carol already had about the matter. "Victoria!"
Eyes widening as though she'd been actually caught out listening at the keyhole, Victoria straightened up. "Yes, Mom?"
"Do you know anything about this?" It was her last chance to find out anything more.
There was no hesitation, no furtive glances at Amy or Atropos. "No, ma'am. First I've heard of it." She gave Amy a moderately disappointed look. "You could've invited me along. It sounds pretty cool."
"Sorry." Atropos didn't sound apologetic. "I specifically didn't mention you because of potential problems arising from power interactions. Also, it's likely to be mostly boring except for Amy and her team."
"Gotcha." Victoria looked enlightened, which was more than Carol was. "Okay, I guess that makes sense. Just take care of her, okay?"
"When have I not?" Atropos, it seemed, could be as snarky as any other teenager. "This will be a non-combat situation. There is a mild element of danger, easily avoided. Amy's actions will assist in mitigating the danger. That's one of the reasons I'm bringing her along."
Carol blinked. "Oh." This was sounding less problematic all the time, save for the original confrontation. "You could maybe have led with that."
Atropos turned and gave her the most deadpan gaze she'd ever seen, clear through the morph mask. "You didn't ask."
"Ah. So, is there anything else you can tell me?" Information was better late than never.
"No, that was it." She was almost sure Atropos was doing this on purpose. "Amy, you ready to go?"
Amy blinked at being put on the spot, then hastily nodded. "Um, sure."
"Wait." Carol held up her hand. "Amy … I know this is probably a little sudden, but when you get back, I'd like to talk. Mother to daughter, if you're willing."
Slowly, Amy nodded again. "Yeah, I'd like that."
"Excellent. I'll have her back in an hour." Atropos waved toward the other side of the study, and a shadowy doorway faded into view there. She linked her arm through Amy's, and they stepped up to the doorway. "Toodles." Another step and they were gone, then the doorway faded again.
Victoria dropped into the guest chair that Atropos had chosen not to take. "Well,
that
happened."
Carol sighed, going back over the conversation with Atropos and not liking the direction some parts of it had gone. "It did indeed."
<><>
Panacea
Amy wasn't sure where they were heading to; Atropos had given her zero clues beyond 'a team'. It took her a moment or so to get herself oriented and recognise the layout of the Wards base in the PRT building. It didn't help that there were more capes present than usual, including Armsmaster and Tenebrae.
Also present, for some reason, was the Deputy Director, Mr Renick. Amy had spoken to him a total of three times, and shaken his hand once that she could recall. He seemed a nice, grandfatherly type, or what she imagined to be a grandfatherly type.
"Atropos!" Miss Medic, whom Amy knew by another name altogether, came barrelling across the room and launched herself at the black-clad cape in a full-on glomp. Far removed from her Slaughterhouse Nine origins, she seemed happy and outgoing, truly thrilled to see Atropos.
"Hey, kiddo." Instead of being offended or angry at the pseudo-assault, Atropos went with it; her greeting sounded like she was amused. "All ready to roll?"
"Sure, sure!" Miss Medic let go Atropos and held up her arms. One of the Tinkertech bracers she was wearing, which Amy understood could pop out any surgical tool Miss Medic needed, flicked out a single scalpel then retracted it almost faster than the eye could see. "They're all charged up and the anaesthesia and antiseptic reservoirs are full. But I just wanted to introduce you to my teammates. They're amazing cool, and they've made me totally welcome here."
Atropos nodded. "Sure. I'd love to meet them. I've heard they're really nice people."
Amy watched in mild disbelief as Miss Medic led Atropos
by the hand
to the group of Wards standing off to the side. It appeared that Atropos had a soft spot for Miss Medic, something any number of people Amy knew would've utterly disbelieved even if they'd seen it with their own eyes.
"Hello, Panacea." She looked around to see Deputy Director Renick approaching her.
Tenebrae and Armsmaster seemed to be having a conversation, so there was nobody listening in on the two of them. "Mr Renick, it's nice to see you again."
"Likewise." Renick nodded toward Atropos and Miss Medic. "I presume you're coming along with Miss Medic and Tenebrae on this mission of Atropos'?"
"That's the idea." Amy wondered how much she should say, then figured that if Atropos had wanted her to stay quiet, she would've said something. "Apparently there's some kind of surgical thing that I've never done before, but Atropos said I'd have competent people along to help. I've heard Miss Medic is really good?" She knew she was pushing the boundaries a little with the semi-question, but it was a good idea to plant the idea that they'd never met.
Renick answered with a definitive nod. "We've brought in experts, and they say she's the best surgeon they've ever seen. I personally can't imagine a medical problem that the two of you couldn't handle between you."
"That's good. She seems like a nice kid. Enthusiastic." Amy was curious to hear Renick's views on Miss Medic's antics. "So how does she know Atropos, do you know?"
"Ah." The Deputy Director smiled. "They met through Atropos' fan club. Miss Medic is a member but doesn't advertise it, as are several other members of the Wards. You're probably aware that the PRT is quietly going along with whatever Atropos says. However, our public face requires us to not actually side with supervillains. So, while we don't forbid them from joining, we ask them not to put that membership up on social media in their cape identities." He seemed pleased with the solution.
"That makes sense." The sudden glare of a camera flash caught her eye, and she frowned. "Is that … does Atropos have a
Polaroid camera?" Thinking back, she seemed to recall something like that from the first disastrous meeting with Atropos, but her concentration had been on other matters at the time.
"Oh, yes." Renick let out a paternal chuckle. "Ironically, they aren't going to be able to show those selfies off, especially if she signs them. But I don't think they care."
"No, I don't think they do." Amy saw that Atropos was heading back their way after having taken what looked like a group shot, with Miss Medic at her side. Tenebrae, too, had finished his conversation with Armsmaster and was moving to join them. "Whoops, looks like time to go."
Deputy Director Renick nodded. "Good luck."
"Thank you, sir." She looked up at Tenebrae, who was a good foot taller than her. He was also wearing a discreet body-camera. "Hi. I don't think we've met. Tenebrae, right?"
Tenebrae's voice was rich and deep. "Correct. And you'd have to be Panacea." He shook her hand, carefully. While she didn't think he was a Brute, there was still a lot of strength in that grip.
"That's me." She recalled Deputy Director Renick's words. "And you're coming with us?"
Atropos answered for him. "That's right. Now, I need to warn you of this. We will be picking up two more people before we get to our final destination. The portal will only stay open for a maximum of four seconds each time. When it closes, anything caught halfway through
will
be cut off. Six people can hustle quite a ways in four seconds, but you do
not
want to dawdle. I'll be going through last, so if I don't think someone ahead of me can make it, I'll pull you up, and if the portal closes without me, sit tight for the next couple of minutes. I
will
be coming through. Does anyone
not
understand?"
Amy glanced at the other two. Tenebrae looked doubtful but determined, while Miss Medic just looked eager to be on the way. When Atropos glanced her way, Amy nodded. "I got it. Four seconds from go to whoa." She would
not
be dragging her feet.
"Exactly." Atropos pointed at an empty section of wall. "Portal to PRT New York Director's office in three, two, one,
now."
Right on cue, the shadowy doorway formed, up against the wall. Tenebrae went through first, at a fast jog, with Miss Medic right behind him. Amy was already keyed up so she basically jumped through, with Atropos beside her.
<><>
Atropos
It was a nice office.
I'd been here twice before, the first time explaining to Wilkins why she really shouldn't try to uncover my secret identity. Her next step would've been undoubtedly to try to target Dad and my (then non-existent) friends, which was why I'd put an End to that shit
hard.
The
second
time, I'd been notifying her that Flechette was coming to Canberra with me. She hadn't taken that visit well either.
Deputy (currently Acting) Director Henderson was standing by his desk, along with Legend, a teen wearing medieval-style armour, and Flechette herself.
Henderson came across to me as a paper-pusher who'd been elevated several layers beyond what he was comfortable handling. I had the distinct suspicion that Wilkins had deliberately picked him so he wouldn't second-guess the way she did the job. If that was the case, he was in for an interesting four months under Emily Piggot.
They seemed a little taken aback when four of us showed up instead of just me, but honestly, I couldn't be expected to explain
every
detail of my plans to them, right? A girl's gotta have an air of mystique about her. Otherwise, it just gets boring.
I waved cheerfully. "Oh, hey, Legend. Good to see you again, Flechette. Nice to meet you, Acting Director Henderson. Have you told them yet?"
Legend gave me a searching look. I could tell he'd figured out what I meant straight away. "Not yet. We're waiting on the announcement. Please don't spread it around willy-nilly." The look on his face asked me,
how do
you
know?
"Wouldn't dream of it." I strode up to the last guy and stuck out my hand. "Hi. Atropos. You'd be Flechette's team leader, correct?"
"Ah, that's me." He flickered a glance at Legend, then hesitantly shook my hand. "Jouster. Are you really the one who put March in the hospital?"
I shrugged. There was no point in denying it. "Well, she hadn't used up her warnings yet, so yeah. I just needed her out of the way so Flechette could come do her thing at the fundraiser. I'm pretty sure that alone accounted for maybe ten, fifteen percent of the donations, so it was effort well spent." I gestured to Brian, Amy and Riley. "Have you met Tenebrae, Panacea and Miss Medic yet?"
"Well, no. I actually haven't." Taking the hint, he moved in their direction.
I switched my attention to the girl of the hour. "And how are you doing, anyway? Fame got to your head yet?"
She chuckled as she shook my hand. "Sometimes it feels that way. Before the Simurgh, to most of New York I was 'that girl with the crossbow', no matter how many times I explained it was an arbalest. Now, they all greet me by name and ask me to sign their trading cards. Image is planning a gold foil holographic version. I'm still getting my head around it."
"Just so long as they don't do one of me." I raised my eyebrows inside my mask. "Or if they do, just make it dead black on both sides."
"Seriously, why not?" She frowned, looking honestly puzzled. "I think it would go like absolute wildfire. You'd outsell everyone."
She wasn't
wrong, but I still had my reasons for saying no. "Point one, trading cards are there to improve your visibility and get your name out there, right? If someone only ever saw you in the distance, they can get a trading card and learn more about you. People
know
who I am and what I can do. Point two, it commercialises your name. The people making them feel like they own a little bit of you. They can request that you don't change up your costume if they've got a popular run of cards, or that you
do
change up your costume if their run is starting to lag." I gestured at myself. "Not going to happen. Also, you know where I'd require all the profits to go to."
"Brockton Bay," she agreed with a nod. "Right, yeah. I don't even know if I get any return from trading cards. Even action figures only bring in about five or ten percent to the cape."
"Exactly. Not worth the effort. And you know I'm not in it for the fame." Becoming well-known had happened anyway, of course, mainly because I'd ganked some seriously infamous assholes. I wasn't averse to using it for my own ends and amplifying it over social media, but the fame had always been a byproduct and a tool, not an end in itself.
"Well, true." She looked over at where Jouster was chatting with the other three, the ice well and truly broken by now. As far as I could tell, he was asking if they knew what this was about, and they were replying with variations on 'I have no idea either'. "So, did you need me to bring anything along, like weapons?"
I considered the question. "Like I told you over the phone, it's a non-combat situation, but one dart could be handy." I knew I was being irritatingly vague, but I honestly didn't care. The big reveal was always fun.
Legend approached us, while Henderson hung back. I suspected he felt more than a little intimidated by me, probably because of Wilkins' attitudes. My strong impression was that she'd done her best to control the narrative coming in about me, so nobody under her would end up sympathetic to my goals. Unfortunately for her, that attitude had bitten her in the butt. It remained to be seen if Henderson could unlearn it in time.
"Atropos," Legend said as he came up to me. "Is there anything more you can tell me about what you're doing?"
"Not right this second." I gestured toward Brian. "As you can see, Tenebrae is wearing a body camera. He'll be recording the entire thing from beginning to end. But if this works out, and I think it will, a potentially troublesome villain will become a useful rogue, and isn't that the name of the game?" I had my reasons for the secrecy, of course. The wrong word in the wrong ear inside the PRT or the Protectorate, and my target might draw an erroneous conclusion and become even more uncooperative than normal.
"Hmm." He didn't quite glower at me. I could tell that he wanted to push harder but knew damn well it wouldn't do any good at all. "Well, good luck then."
"Thank you, sir." I held out my hand to shake. "Just so you know, I'm a big fan of your work."
He shook it. "As I am, of some of yours."
I grinned under the mask. "That's fair. If you'll just excuse me for a second?"
"Certainly." He stepped back as I took my phone out.
I sent two texts, then put it away again and I raised my voice. "Everyone coming with me, get ready. We're going to a suburban street. Same order as before. Flechette, the portal will last four seconds. You'll be following Miss Medic." I pointed at a wall of the office. "Three, two, one,
go!"
On 'go', the shadowy doorway formed. Brian was already on the move, with Riley on his six. Flechette's power-based aptitude for timing showed up well here; she ducked through less than half a second behind Riley. Amy and I moved in unison, and made it through with more than a second to spare.
<><>
Flechette
Lily looked around with interest as the portal dissipated behind them. "Okay, where are we now? And is this where the villain is?" As Atropos had said, it was a quiet suburban street in a moderately affluent neighbourhood. Not exactly where she'd expect a villain to be hiding out.
Of course, she told herself a moment later, that would be
exactly
where a villain might choose to hide out, for that precise reason.
"Nope. We're picking up our last person here." Atropos gestured toward a house across the street. "Right there. Oh, and to answer your question, we're in Philly."
Lily was curious as to why Atropos had dropped them on the street rather than into the living room of the person they were going to take along. She didn't give the impression of someone who spent a lot of time worrying about what other people thought of her. There was a reason for it, she knew that much. What the reason was, she still wasn't sure.
They crossed the street, Atropos in the lead, and trooped up the front path of the house in question. In their range of costumes, from mostly black in Atropos' case, through purple for Lily, grey for Tenebrae and pastel camouflage for Miss Medic, to Panacea's white with red crosses, they looked dramatically out of place. A dog barked, several houses down.
Atropos pressed the doorbell; the chimes sounded inside the house. A moment later, too quickly for someone who hadn't been expecting visitors, the front door opened. With a shock, Lily recognised the bespectacled lady; Atropos had
said
there'd be someone she already knew, but she hadn't been expecting her Wards therapist. "Mrs Yamada?"
"My goodness," Jessica Yamada said. "Hello, Atropos, Panacea, Flechette. This
is
a pleasant surprise. Would you like to come in, or should I go out?"
"'In' is probably better." Atropos gestured to the neighbourhood. "We don't need everyone knowing what's going on."
"Very true." Mrs Yamada stood aside as they entered the house, then closed the door behind them. She turned to Miss Medic and Tenebrae. "I don't believe I've met you two before. Are you associates of Atropos?"
"Kinda," said Miss Medic, at the same time as Tenebrae shook his head. "Not really."
Mrs Yamada chuckled. "Well,
that
clears it all up."
Atropos sounded amused as she explained. "Miss Medic and Tenebrae are very new additions to the Brockton Bay Wards, but I also know them out of costume."
"Oh!" Mrs Yamada sounded enlightened as she looked again at Miss Medic. "I'd heard your name, but I didn't make the connection until now. I've heard good things about you. I apologise for the misunderstanding."
Atropos dusted her hands off in a businesslike fashion. "Well, that's the introductions out of the way. We'll be heading onward in a moment. Mrs Yamada, a portal is going to form in the middle of your living room, leading to a somewhat run-down street. Tenebrae and Miss Medic will be going first, followed by Flechette, yourself, and then me and Panacea. As soon as Flechette starts moving, follow her as quickly as you can, because the portal only lasts four seconds. Do you understand? If you don't think you can get through quickly enough, I can have Tenebrae pick you up and carry you."
Mrs Yamada looked up at Tenebrae, who certainly seemed buff enough to do exactly that. "I believe I can manage," she decided. "I follow Flechette through the portal."
Atropos may have smiled; Lily couldn't quite tell. "Exactly." She pointed to a spot on the floor. "Portal forming in three, two, one,
go!"
Tenebrae and Miss Medic were definitely getting used to this; again, they were moving before the portal even opened. Lily matched her movements to Miss Medic's, following through exactly one-quarter of a second behind her. She kept moving on the other side to give Mrs Yamada room. Last came Atropos alongside Panacea, then the portal shut behind them.
<><>
Atropos
"Okay," said Brian, looking around. "'Run-down' is definitely the phrase I'd use, too." He wasn't far wrong; the asphalt was cracked and potholed, and random trash had accumulated in the gutters. "So, where's our villain?"
I held up a finger for silence, then led the way toward the nearest building, a dilapidated double-wide with a lawn that was mostly dirt. As we got closer, I heard the sound I was waiting for: a combination of a hollow boom and a screech not unlike fingernails on chalkboard. This was followed up by a vocal screech of frustration and a tirade of profanity that would've made even a hardened Dockworker raise an eyebrow in appreciation. Riley literally put her fingers in her ears.
The door that we were approaching was unlocked; or rather, the lock had been forced so many times that it was no longer useful as one. I knocked anyway, the sharp raps threatening to force the door to give up the ghost altogether.
"What the fuck?" Footsteps approached the door from the other side. "Who the fuck
knocks
around here? If you've come about the noise, you can fuck—"
The door opened, and Damsel of Distress stared at me. Her eyes went wide with horror.
"Hello, Ashley," I said politely. "May we come in?"
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
Relevant Side-StoryDamsel of DistressLife sucked
hard, in all the wrong ways.Ashley had managed to scrounge an actual working microwave she just found sitting on top of a dumpster, and there'd been a stack of frozen pizzas left on her doorstep for some reason (she wasn't going to think too hard about it, because that would just piss her off). She'd put the first pizza in the oven and watched it going around and around, her stomach grumbling harder and harder while she anticipated her first bite of real hot food in actual fucking
days.
Just the smell alone had her almost drooling.And then, after it had finished, she'd opened the microwave and gone to take the pizza out
carefully, but a drop of melted cheese had stung her finger. Her hand spasmed, and the power surge took out the pizza plus half the microwave, and blew a hole in the wall beyond. Lying against the opposite wall of the kitchen where the unexpected blast had thrown her, she wanted to cry, but
Damsel of Distress did not cry.
Instead, she channelled that energy into rage; swearing, ranting and denying the hot prickly feeling behind her eyelids.The worst thing was, unless she could get hold of a working stove, or fluke another microwave, the pizzas were useless to her. The last time she'd just tried to thaw a microwave pizza and eat it raw, she'd been stuck on the shitter for three days, in between throwing up so hard she tasted blood. She was tempted to destroy the whole house and move along, taking only her few knick-knacks and her precious TV, but right now she didn't think she could even carry that too far.And then came the knock on the door. Who the fuck
knocked
around here, anyway? If it was the PRT, they'd kick in the door and spray her down with containment foam. The cops wouldn't bother. And she didn't have any neighbours. Still ranting, she threw the door open … and stopped.It was Atropos. The one person Ashley was legitimately scared of. Other people pissed her off, but only one person had ever stuck a gun in her face and made her back off. Even then, she might have gotten over that feeling and gone looking for revenge … right up until she saw the footage of Atropos
just fucking casually murdering the Simurgh.
That was a whole new level of 'fuck no'."Hello, Ashley. May we come in?"Instinctively, even before she saw the strap of the shoulder holster under Atropos' coat, Ashley crossed her arms, putting her hands under her armpits. Atropos didn't have a gun in her hand, but Ashley recalled all too vividly how fast she'd pulled one out and put it to Edict's head. The microwave was a distant memory, the pizza entirely forgotten. Ashley's entire thought process right now revolved around
not dying, which meant not giving Atropos even the shadow of an excuse."I haven't done anything!" She was
not
going to beg for her life, but pointing out that she hadn't broken Atropos' rules was just fine. "If someone says I did, they're lying!""Nobody says you did," Atropos said. She still wasn't pointing a gun at Ashley. Her goddamn shears were still in their sheath. Maybe she wasn't here to kill Ashley just yet. "I'm here to help. May we come in?"The 'we' bugged Ashley until she dragged her eyes away from the blank-faced spectre before her and took in the other people behind Atropos. Big guy, little girl, purple costume, white with red crosses. And some woman with glasses. She knew of Panacea, but that was about it. The rest of them—wait.
The girl in the purple costume was the one who'd helped Atropos kill the Simurgh. Ashley began hyperventilating all over again.Atropos had asked a question. Ashley didn't want to piss her off any more than she was right then. Something about … coming in? Fuck it, Atropos could kill her just as easily inside the house as outside. "Yeah, uh, come in or whatever you want." She stepped back, trying not to trip over anything because there was no way in
fuck
she was taking her hands out from under her arms."Thank you." Atropos stepped inside the front door and started moving into the house, moving her head like she was looking around. Ashley wasn't one to give a fuck about what other people thought of her lifestyle, but right then she felt intensely judged. "Everyone, meet Ashley Stillons, otherwise known as Damsel of Distress. Ashley, meet Panacea, Tenebrae, Flechette, Mrs Jessica Yamada, and Miss Medic."Panacea actually seemed to give Ashley a sympathetic look as she went past. Tenebrae nodded gravely.
They
understood, at least. She got half a smile from Flechette, the purple-costumed girl who'd helped kill the Simurgh, but that was it.The Yamada woman had a friendly expression; she didn't say anything, but she definitely didn't look like she was here to kill anyone. Last came the little girl wearing the pseudo-military scrubs. "Hi! Are you the one we're here to help?""She is," Atropos confirmed. "Panacea, Miss Medic; Ashley here has power incontinence. Her blasts can erase basically anything from existence, but she can't always control when they come out. What I've brought you here to do is look at her arms and hands, and see if you can't figure out something between you to give her the control she needs. Tenebrae, make sure you get all this, okay? Mrs Yamada, Ashley's got a strong case of what I call supervillain fixation. I'm certain she could benefit from whatever assistance you could give her. But first, let's give the healers some room to work.""And what about me?" asked Flechette. "I'm not a surgeon, a healer, or a powers expert. CPR's about my speed, and I doubt I can do better than Miss Medic or Panacea in that regard.""Oh, I'm sure we'll find something for you to do." From the tone of Atropos' voice, she'd already figured out what that 'something' was, though Ashley had no idea what it might be. It made her feel a little better that none of the others knew either.Under Atropos' coaching, they dragged the one good table to a spot under the one good light, then Ashley sat down next to it on the one good chair. And there she sat, with her hands still under her arms."Uh … you're going to have to take your hands out for us to look at them," Miss Medic ventured."Not until Atropos says it's okay." Ashley didn't need anyone's permission to do a goddamn thing, but she had no desire to die over a stupid fucking misunderstanding."One at a time," Atropos ruled. "And only point them at that side of the house. Everyone else, stay away from that side of the house." She indicated the grungiest side of the living room, where Ashley didn't go anyway. "Left hand first."Cautiously, Ashley leaned forward and placed her left elbow on the table, then eased her hand out from under her armpit, trailing her hand across her chest and face until it pointed straight up, then laid her forearm and hand palm-up on the table. She didn't give a damn if anyone thought she looked like an idiot. There were more important things at stake, like her own survival.Panacea leaned over the table from the right, Miss Medic from the left. "Can you handle blood flow and pain?" asked Miss Medic. "I want to open it up and see." For a moment, Ashley thought the girl was addressing her, then she felt Panacea lay a hand on her arm."Sure thing. Hold still, Ashley. This might feel a little strange." Her arm lost a little sensation as Miss Medic's bracer flicked out a scalpel.The first cut looked like it should have hurt, but all she felt was a little tugging. More cuts followed, each precise, opening her forearm open like an anatomy lesson. "Hmm," murmured Miss Medic. "See that? I think the channels get a little wonky going into the wrist." She indicated with a needle-sharp probe that still only felt like dull pressure to Ashley.Having no desire to watch this anymore, Ashley focused on the far wall. She really wanted to close her eyes, but her ego wouldn't allow her to go that far."Now that you mention it, I think you're right." Panacea had barely moved, but her hand remained on Ashley's bicep. "If I'm reading this right, it gets worse as it goes inward. All those cramped joints and flex points.""Let's see, now." The scalpel flickered again in her peripheral vision, and Ashley guessed that her hand had been opened up as easily as her arm had. Miss Medic nodded. "You're right. It's a mess. As it is, I'm not sure how we can fix it. It's either zero or one hundred, but the pressure has to be a hundred all the time to make that work.""Like evolution," Panacea said. "Every living creature today comes from genes that were just barely good enough to survive to breed. This setup was just barely good enough for the power to work, so that's what it went with." She frowned. "There's got to be a way to make this work
better.""If there is, I can't see it." Miss Medic prodded with the probe. "See that? If her hands were immobilised or only had two or three positions, we could set it up so the energy channels didn't get kinked or blocked, but hands are the most flexible things on the human body. I can only think of two ways to do it, and I'm not sure that the second one is even possible.""Well, what's the first one?" Panacea's tone of voice indicated that she was here for the duration. "Maybe we can make that work."Miss Medic took a deep breath. "If I was doing it quick and dirty—which I'm
not
in favour of—I'd amputate her hands and install prosthetics. Stretch her skin over them so she has feeling, and rejigger the energy channels so they have a straight run. Her power would work every time.""But she'd have prosthetic hands," Panacea noted. "Which would require regular maintenance. Let's not go there. What's the other way?""Yes, please," Ashley said, trying not to sound too sarcastic to the people talking about amputating her hands. "What
is
the other way?""The other way is to somehow salvage the current energy channels." Miss Medic bit her lip, apparently thinking. "But the only way I can see to make that work is to install some kind of wave guides, to make sure the energy doesn't get lost or absorbed, so it would go straight through the channel every time. The trouble is, her blasts destroy
everything.
There's nothing we can make wave guides
out
of."Ashley blinked. "Yes, there is." She normally wouldn't have been talking this much, but they were
wrong.
"Sometimes when I destroy something, there's a little tiny remnant left behind. My power doesn't destroy it. I collect them." She nodded to the bag containing her keepsakes and trinkets, stashed in the corner. "They look like twisted bits of rock and wood." Then her heart fell again. "… shit.""What?" asked Miss Medic. "What's the matter?" She honestly seemed to care, which was weird. Nobody had cared about what happened to Ashley for years now."They're really, really hard. I don't know of anything that can cut them precisely enough to use that way." Ashley's shoulders wanted to slump, but she refused to let them. "If you can't shape them, you can't make these wave guides out of them, and we're back to no good options."Flechette smiled. It was the smile of someone who finally knew their purpose in life. "We'll see about that."With a few of the chunks of blast-condensed material on the table, Miss Medic and Panacea began a lively discussion on the exact shape and distribution of the wave guides within Ashley's wrist and hand. Flechette could apparently, using just a normal blade, slice off a piece of the normally intractable material then shape it according to the specifications given by the two healers, down to the fraction of an inch.The first few took a couple of false starts, but after that they got into the groove of it. Flechette became better and better at carving the condensed matter to the correct specifications, and before Ashley knew it, they were closing up her left hand and arm, all the 'wave guides' in place. She stared at her skin; it looked no different than before. Thanks to Panacea, there weren't even any scar lines."Well?" prompted Atropos, and gestured at the target wall. "Something small, if you don't mind. I already know you can do big.""Uh … right." Ashley held out her left hand and tentatively flexed it through its normal range of motion. Nothing fired off unexpectedly. She tried it again, more violently, with the same lack of result. Then she pointed her fingers and deliberately exerted her power, trying for a low-end result.A tight beam of energy erupted from her fingertips and punched a quarter-sized hole out of the wall. She barely felt the recoil.Ashley was vaguely aware of Miss Medic, Panacea and Flechette giving each other high-fives behind her back as she cupped just the fingers of that hand and summoned a ball of destructive energy, holding it with ease. There was no awkwardness, no feeling of barely held control. It was
smooth."Nice," Atropos said, as Ashley dismissed the ball. "How does your hand feel?"With growing confidence, Ashley flexed her hand again; part of her mind insisted that she could detect the wave guides in there, but she was pretty sure that was just her imagination. "Good. Great. Doesn't hurt." She looked sharply up at Atropos. "What's the price for all this?""Price?" Atropos made a
go-on
gesture."Yeah, price. You don't do shit for nothing.
Nobody
does, but you do it even less than everyone else. When you offed the Simurgh, you got two billion out of it. What's your price for bringing everyone here and doing this?" Ashley knew there had to be a catch. Whatever it was, she'd be comfortable saying no, even if it meant using her left hand for everything for the rest of her life."That you listen to my offer." Atropos raised a finger. "Not that you take it, just that you listen to it. Okay?"Just listening to an offer was something Ashley could totally do. "Shoot." A moment later, she winced, considering who it was she was talking to.Atropos may have smiled. "The last time you came to Brockton Bay, I sent you away at gunpoint. Once both your hands are fixed, I'll be inviting you back and offering you a job. Good money, good accommodation."Ashley blinked. "A job? Doing what?" She held up her hand. "I blow things up, remember?""Why, yes. You do." Atropos' tone was somewhat facetious by now. "Brockton Bay is undergoing a multi-billion-dollar renovation, from the ground up. There will be structures galore that need demolition. We'll have wrecking balls and shot-firers, but there will also be a niche for someone who can just point their finger and get it done. Now, where can someone who
blows things up
get a job in all that, I wonder?""Ah. Right. And you can pay me?" Money was always nice. It was kind of why Ashley had gone into crime. That, and the feeling of power.When Atropos spoke next, the facetious tone was entirely absent. "Take the correct safety courses, and you'll start at a shot-firer's wage. That's good money. You can live in free assigned accommodation, which is comfortable but unimaginative, or you can splash out with your own cash and rent your own." She shrugged. "It's all up to you. All you have to do is follow the rules. Oh, and if you do decide to come into Brockton Bay, you
will
be assigned a therapist and you
will
have to attend sessions." She indicated Mrs Yamada. "She'll be able to give you an idea of what that's like, going forward.""Um."
Well, damn.
"Can I think about it for a bit?" Being her own boss and doing crime was something she'd wanted to do for quite some time, and once her hands were fixed, that would be a real possibility. On the other hand, though, a guaranteed well-paying job in what was rapidly becoming the richest city in the northeast US also rated thinking about. Especially if the job involved doing what she was really good at."Sure. Get that other hand fixed while you're thinking." Atropos stepped back, metaphorically removing herself from the conversation.Slowly, Ashley placed her right hand on the table. Just as the back of her hand touched down, she must have hit the wrong nerve because energy shredded the end of the table and flared across the room to blow out most of the wall on that side. Knocked backward by the recoil so she landed heavily on her back, she lay there frozen as the night breeze flooded in, waiting for the bullet in the face."And that is why we don't stand on that side of the table," Atropos remarked into the silence that followed. She reached down and grasped Ashley's left hand—Ashley's
right
hand was tucked under her arm again—and helped her to her feet. "Carry on."The surgery went a lot faster this time. Panacea and Miss Medic knew exactly what they were looking for, and Flechette was carving out blanks for the wave guides ahead of time, shaping them to fit with her knife and a metal lawn-dart looking weapon. The teamwork and cohesion was impressive, each of them fully aware of their role. Ashley, morbidly fascinated, watched them lay the wave guides into place and lock them down, aware that it was her arm and hand they were cutting apart and putting back together but unable to emotionally process it."And that should do it," announced Miss Medic happily. "Panacea?"The New Wave healer nodded, a smile beginning to break out across her face as well. "I think so. It all feels right, anyway. Flechette?""Wave guide count matches, left to right." Flechette gave a thumbs-up. "I think we're done here too.""Closing up now," Panacea announced. One by one, the incisions came together and vanished. Even watching it, Ashley could not see where they'd been. "Okay, give it a try."Drawing a deep breath, Ashley held out both hands. Left hand, then right hand, then both; energy blasts shot from them out through the hole in the wall. Her fine control was astonishing, compared to what it had been like before. And when she flexed both hands,
nothing happened.I've finally got my life back.
Tears threatened to spill from her eyes, but once more she refused to let them fall. She still had her self-esteem, and she was
not
going to cry over this, damn it!And that was when she smelled the most heavenly odour she'd ever experienced. Or perhaps that was just the hunger speaking. Turning, she saw Atropos stepping out of a shadowy doorway that didn't
exist
in the house, carrying a couple of bulging shopping bags."My father always advised me to never make important decisions on an empty stomach." Atropos set one of the bags down on the table in front of Ashley. "I made a food run. The nearest gas station had pizza pockets in their warmer. Thought you might like some."Ashley tried to stay strong, but her stomach audibly growled at the smell. Pride be damned, she was
starving.
Yanking open the bag, she grabbed the first pizza pocket, not caring that it scorched her fingers, and took a heavenly bite out of it. The cheese was still hot, but she didn't give a good goddamn; she made a keening noise of pure pleasure as she swallowed.As she gorged herself on pizza pockets, Ashley was vaguely aware of Atropos handing out snacks to everyone else. She didn't care: these were
her
pizza pockets. At some point, a large bottle of Mountain Dew ended up on the table in front of her, seemingly abandoned to its fate."So, let me see if I have this straight," Mrs Yamada was saying once Ashley surfaced from her feeding frenzy long enough to pay attention. "You walked into a gas station,
in costume,
and they sold you the food?" She sounded both bemused and amused, all at the same time."Absolutely. They were actually willing to just give it to me, in return for a selfie." Atropos was just amused. "But I paid them anyway. Setting an example, you know."Ah.
Ashley had lost track of the number of times she'd used her powers to terrify convenience store owners to hand over food and empty the till, and walked out laughing. Atropos had the power to do that ten times over, and still chose to pay.She didn't feel
ashamed, exactly. Shame was one of those things she didn't do. But she did feel that she was being measured, judged, against an arbitrary scale of
not being a horrible fucking human being,
and that she herself was the one doing the judging.Grabbing up the bottle of Mountain Dew, she unscrewed the cap and drank from the neck, not caring if anyone saw her. She could even hold it with both hands and not have to worry about her
fucking
powers destroying it mid-gulp. That had totally happened before, but not anymore. Not ever again.When she lowered the bottle, she saw Atropos looking at her. She let out a gassy belch that made her sinuses sting, then set the bottle down and screwed on the cap. "What?""You probably haven't come to a decision yet." Atropos sounded fine with that. "But I'm going to have to start getting the others back in about five minutes. So, I'll be taking Panacea and Miss Medic and Tenebrae and Flechette outside so you can have a one-on-one with Mrs Yamada before we go. Also, I'll leave you the number for the Betterment Committee for if you decide to accept the job. Okay?""Sure. How do you know I won't just go back to being a villain?" She felt greatly daring when she said this, but Atropos hadn't shot her for the accidental blast, so she took the gamble."If that's what you choose. You won't be killing people accidentally, not anymore." Atropos lowered her voice slightly. "Just remember: villains aren't welcome in my city." Turning, she gestured to the four people she'd mentioned and led them outside.The second-best chair had a wobbly leg, but Mrs Yamada carried it over to the table anyway and sat down. "So," she said. "What did you want to know?"
<><>
Atropos"Do you really trust her not to hurt Mrs Yamada?" Lily sounded worried."I trust her self-preservation instincts," I said dryly. "She knows I'd kill her in a heartbeat if she did anything stupid like that. And Mrs Yamada is very good at talking to capes. This is Ashley's best chance to break out of this cycle, and make something of herself. I can't talk her into it, but she can talk
herself
into it, with the right motivation."Riley gave me a cynical look that belonged on a much older face. "You knew we'd need wave guides, didn't you? That's why you brought Flechette along.""I have no idea what you mean." I was lying through my teeth, but that was fine; they knew damn well I was lying. "It was a total accident. Absolute fluke."Tenebrae snorted. "I'm just the guy with the body camera, and even
I
know that's bullshit. You knew every move that was going to happen, before it happened."I made as though to answer, then held up a finger as a car rolled down the street and stopped opposite us. The doors opened, and Edict and Licit got out. They started across the street, looking worried."Hi," I said cheerfully. "Everyone, meet Edict and Licit. I see you got my texts." I kept my voice down, so Ashley wouldn't hear what I was saying."What's going on here?" asked Edict. "Why are you standing outside Damsel's place?""And why is there a hole in the wall?" added Licit. "What have you been doing? Did you come all this way to finish the job?"I sighed. "Geez, kill off a few dozen criminals and all of a sudden, everyone thinks I murder every criminal I meet. Guys, she's not only alive but she's better off than ever." I would've rolled my eyes if anyone was able to see them.Edict looked at me suspiciously. "What, exactly, does that mean?""It means," Brian interjected crisply, "that under Atropos' direction, Miss Medic and Panacea, with Flechette's assistance, fixed her power incontinence problem. Her power works just fine now. Right now, she's having a brief talk with a counsellor to see if she's willing to come work in Brockton Bay for the Betterment Committee. She's arrogant and snarky, but I'm pretty sure that's her natural state of being."I mentally nodded; I was pretty sure I couldn't have put it better myself.They both focused on him for the first time. For someone who was seventeen going on eighteen, he stood a good head (and sometimes shoulders) over most grown men. "And you are?" asked Licit."Tenebrae, Brockton Bay Wards. This is Miss Medic, same." Brian put a protective hand on his cousin's shoulder.Lily raised her chin. "Flechette, New York Wards."Amy put her hand up. "Panacea, New Wave. We really did fix her hands.""Okay, then." Edict frowned. "So why exactly did you text us to come in when it was all over?""So you'd know about it." That part should've been obvious. "I'd advise you to leave her to think about her options over the next few days. I gave her some foodstuffs so she won't run out for a day or so. She, uh, blew up the microwave you left for her to find."Licit facepalmed. "Goddamn
it.""But her hands are okay now?" asked Edict. "She doesn't blow stuff up accidentally anymore?""No, just on purpose." I grinned behind the mask. "With a healthy dose of luck, she'll decide to come to Brockton Bay to work. And then you'll be able to transfer elsewhere, whee." Neither of them looked thrilled at that concept, but it really wasn't my problem. "So anyway, it's about time I went and grabbed Mrs Yamada, and we got out of your hair. Have a nice night.""Right," muttered Licit.I headed back to the house and knocked on the door-frame. "Coming in!" Giving it a three-count, I pushed the door open and walked in.Ashley and Mrs Yamada both looked around at me; from the body language, they'd been deep in conversation of one sort or another before I interrupted. "Time to go?" asked Mrs Yamada."It's getting on to eight, yes," I confirmed. "The others have a curfew of sorts, and I don't want to get them in bad with their bosses." The PRT was more likely to cooperate with me on the big stuff if I didn't screw them over on the little stuff. Also, I had dessert waiting on me."Understood. Well, Ashley, you have my number." Mrs Yamada rose from the table. "I've actually been offered a job in Brockton Bay, which I'm still considering. It may well be that we'll end up doing this on a regular basis.""And here's the Betterment Committee number," I added, skimming another card across the table to Ashley's hand. "Call anytime. They'll pay for your bus ticket."Ashley snorted. "Better deal than I got last time." Her self-esteem, I could tell, was still recovering from the way I'd just walked in and overturned her life; or rather, set it back on its feet. This was the closest I'd ever get to a 'thank you' from her."You're welcome. Take care." Waiting just long enough for Mrs Yamada to exit before me, I left Damsel of Distress behind.Whichever way she jumped, I knew I could handle it. She wouldn't dare approach Brockton Bay as a villain, but if she came in as a rogue, she would truly be able to make something of herself.It was all up to her, now.
<><>
PanaceaThe return trip had been a mirror of the outbound one, but somewhat in reverse. Atropos had dropped Mrs Yamada off first, then Flechette, then Tenebrae and Miss Medic. It had been nice to talk to Miss Medic, to get to know the person she'd been before she became Bonesaw. The longer they spent chatting, the less she resented the semi-extortion Atropos had used to get her to do the work she'd done on the Slaughterhouse Nine villain.However, instead of teleporting into the living room of her house, or even into her bedroom—God knew, Atropos had never had a problem with that before—they ended up on the sidewalk outside the house. "What's up?" she asked."Remember that stuff I asked you to make?" Atropos paused as Amy frowned, unable to make the connection. "The metal and plastic eating bug?""Oh. Yeah." Amy remembered now. It had been a long night. "I've made a few tiny samples, but we've never had the chance to get together and work out safety protocols.""I know." Atropos sounded unfazed by that. "I've figured out exactly what I need it to do." In a few brief sentences, she outlined her requirements. "Can you do that?""Oh, that's easy." The best bit was, it didn't have a long lifespan. "That's it? How much?""Won't need a lot." Atropos told her why.
<><>
AtroposIt was with profound relief that I teleported into the living room. I'd known Dad and Cherie were on the sofa, so I showed up out of the way of the TV for them. "Hi, I'm home."Dad paused the DVD of what looked like
Beauty and the Beast. "How'd it go?"I took my hat and mask off, and shook out my hair. "Well, either I just unleashed a new and improved version of Damsel of Distress on the New Hampshire criminal underworld, or the Betterment Committee will be getting a new cape on their roster. Time will tell."Cherie stood up from the sofa, and gave me a hug. "I have faith in your ability to persuade."I returned the hug, enjoying the closeness. It was nice to just relax and be
me.
"She's pretty headstrong. Just saying. Now, I've been waiting on my dessert for the last hour.""Sorry." Cherie grinned broadly. "You took too long, so I ate it."I raised my eyebrows. "You do realise that I
am
armed and dangerous, right?"She stuck her tongue out at me. "It was delicious."Dad sighed and rolled his eyes. "It's in the fridge.""That's better." Pretending to mutter and mumble to myself, I headed into the kitchen. "You just wait. Next time, I'll eat
your
dessert."She giggled and sat back down on the sofa, leaving room for me. "I'd like to see you try."It was good to be home.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
Relevant Side-StoryRelevant Side-StoryPanaceaAmy sat on her bed, watching the mushroom babies play with Smaug. The bearded dragon was curiously okay with sharing his habitat with animated fungi, especially when the mushrooms caught the bugs Amy had also released into the terrarium so they could feed them to him. They had also taken to grooming him as he lay next to them, making sure his scales were clean and nothing was caught between his spines.The door latch clicked, and the mushroom babies retreated immediately into their immobile forms, as did the one in the plant-pot on the windowsill, which had been dancing in the morning sunlight. By the time the bedroom door opened, everything looked normal. Vicky leaned her head in and smiled when she saw Amy. "Five minutes before we have to head to school, Ames."Amy returned the smile. "Thanks, Vicky. I'll be down in four."The door closed again; Amy waited ten seconds before she murmured, "All clear."Gradually, the mushroom babies emerged again, but Amy had been reminded of something else. Taking out her phone, she called up PHO.<><>■PRIVATE MESSAGETo: AtroposFrom: TheRealPanaceaSubject: Got the StuffJust need a quick face to face. When can we meet?■<><>Just as she hit Send, she realised what she'd done, and sighed. There hadn't even been a sound, but she was almost certain the air currents in the room had changed. "Hi.""'Sup." The familiar voice came from the direction of her computer desk. When she looked in that direction, Atropos was sitting in her chair. Slowly, one foot tucked under her, the dark-clad killer swivelled toward Amy. "You did good last night, by the way. Miss Medic's
still
jazzed at how well you two synergised.""I was pretty impressed, too." That was an understatement. She'd been near-euphoric in the aftermath, basking in the way the three of them had worked together so seamlessly to a successful conclusion. "Uh, what's happening with Damsel?"Atropos shrugged. "Still considering her options, but starting to lean more and more toward trying out a nine-to-five blowing up old buildings. A whole lot easier to blow the absolute shit out of something when nobody's shooting at you." She tilted her head slightly. "So, how'd the conversation with your mom go?"Amy suspected she knew already, but it was nice that she was pretending otherwise. "Umm … interesting. She asked me how I felt about stuff, and listened to what I had to say. I unpacked a lot of shit I've been sitting on, and she told me about my actual father and why she hates him. I mean, Marquis, geez. That really knocked me on my ass.""Huh." Amy got the impression that Atropos had just raised her eyebrows. "I'm impressed. Sounds like she listened to what I had to say."Amy nodded. "Well, I guess I need to thank you for saying it, whatever it was you said. Also, yeah, I've got the stuff ready for you." She reached over to her bedside table, pulled open a drawer, and took out the tiny tub of paste. "You said you didn't need much.""No, this should be good." Atropos caught Amy's awkward off-hand throw, and made the tub vanish somewhere on her person. "Thanks. I appreciate it.""No,
I
should be thanking
you." Amy took a deep breath, nerving herself for her next statement. "I told her stuff last night that I've never told
anyone, stuff that needed to be aired. And it's all because of you."If Amy had been expecting Atropos to deny anything, she would've been disappointed. Instead, Atropos leaned forward with every indication of interest. "This ought to be good.""Well, it's true." Amy tried to keep the defensive tone out of her voice. "Ever since you started me doing stuff other than basic vanilla healing, I've been happier and more relaxed. And last night, you walked into a supervillain's lair and talked her into accepting surgery from me and Miss Medic.""Well, it
was
kind of special circumstances, but granted," allowed Atropos. "What's this got to do with what you said to your mom?"Amy didn't understand why Atropos wasn't getting it. "Everything, basically. Whenever I felt like chickening out or minimising the way I thought or felt about something, I asked myself, 'what would Atropos do?' and
bam!
I told her straight to her face exactly what was on my mind." She shook her head wonderingly. "I still can't believe I said some of that stuff without trying to hide under the sofa.""I see." Atropos' tone was almost gentle. "You don't think maybe you were still riding the high from doing that surgery with Miss Medic last night?"Amy stared at her, then very slowly facepalmed. That still wasn't quite enough to express the way she felt, so she dragged her hand down over her face until it covered her mouth. "I'm an idiot," she mumbled through her muffling hand, her eyes still closed. "Carol must think I'm a total lunatic.""No, just a teenage girl." Atropos either had zero sense of humour, or she was able to laugh and talk at the same time. "The two aren't mutually incompatible, you know. We're at an age when we're supposed to make mistakes and learn from them. Capes just make different mistakes. Of course, 'different' doesn't necessarily mean 'less embarrassing'.""Yeah, no shit." Amy could still recall Carol's deer-in-the-headlights look when she'd spilled that not only was she romantically interested in Parian of the Rogues' Guild, but she'd also had a crush on Vicky for years. About halfway through that part of the talk, Carol had opened one of the bottles of champagne Atropos had brought over and poured herself a glass. Amy hadn't gotten one. "I'm just worried that I might have wrecked our relationship forever.""You haven't." The words were delivered with absolute certainty. "You barely
had
a relationship. She's been able to successfully avoid forming any kind of real attachment to you for all these years. Now that she knows all those details about you, just like you've found out all those things about her, she's being forced to actually notice you as a
person, not just an appendage of the team. You know each other a lot better now. That's something you can build on, going forward."Amy sighed. It was nice to hear those words, and Atropos had been consistently right about basically
everything
before, but she still wanted to hear it from Carol.Atropos stood up from the swivel chair and set it spinning with a flick of her hand. "Gotta go," she said. "Good luck. And thanks for the stuff." A shadowy doorway opened in front of her, and she stepped through."You're welcome," Amy said to the empty room, and got up off the bed. Embarrassing episode or no embarrassing episode, she still had to go to school.She made sure to move the mushroom baby off the windowsill before she left. Even though she'd engineered them to be not as vulnerable to sunlight as most fungi, and they liked it in small doses, it still wasn't great for them.
<><>
Winslow, Between First & Second PeriodGreg Veder"I think she's making it all up."Greg looked around at the speaker. Bronson was one of the bigger guys in the year, mainly because he'd repeated a grade, which was an impressive feat when it came to Winslow's you-will-pass mentality. He was also one of the main assholes.Greg suspected him of being an ex-Empire sympathiser; not because he was no longer a sympathiser, but because there was no longer an Empire Eighty-Eight. Most of Bronson's buddies had been taken out of school when their parents all mysteriously decided to leave town at the same time, but he'd been left behind. Bereft of his cronies, he wasn't the big wheel he liked to pretend to be, but he still liked to stir up trouble where he could. This was usually, but not always, aimed at whatever minorities he could find to target."What?" asked Greg as they moved along. "Who made what up?""Reynaud." Bronson couldn't even pronounce it correctly, saying
Ray-nowd.
"That shit she said about her dad and his buddies, I don't believe it for a second. She's just saying it to get morons like you to fall all over her in sympathy.""But she's not …" Greg stopped, and started again. "Dude, has she gone up to
one person
and talked about it? Sparky asked her out, she said no and told him why not. I was there.""Doesn't mean shit. It's just to separate the men from the boys. Isn't that right, guys?" Bronson looked around at some of the others. "Right?"If he was trying to drum up support, the response was remarkably lacklustre. Eventually, one of the others asked the question Greg was thinking about. "What the fuck is that even supposed to mean?""It means that when a
man
hears that—" Bronson puffed out his chest, evidently ranking himself among that number, "—he knows she's up for being passed around at a party.""What? No!" Greg felt a flare of panic. "She
didn't
mean that! I talked to Taylor about it, and she said Cherie's had a bad life and not to bother her with shit like that!""Taylor?" asked one of the bystanders. "You mean Hebert?" Murmurs came from several of the others. The attitude of the group seemed to shift several notches, from 'let's see where this is going' to 'fuck this shit, I'm out'. While not everybody believed implicitly that Taylor Hebert was the dreaded Atropos, there was enough doubt in most people's minds that nobody wanted to take the chance.Bronson looked around as the group evaporated, then glared at Greg. "You had to fuckin' say that, didn't you, Veder? Even if Hebert's not just a creepy loner, this hasn't got anything to do with her."Greg tried one more time to save the idiot's life. "I'm telling you, you need to drop this right now. Leave Cherie alone, because—"He didn't finish the sentence, mainly because Bronson had slammed him up against the row of lockers, hard enough to drive the air out of his lungs. "You don't fuckin' tell me what to do." Bronson's tone was low and menacing, and promised more bruises in Greg's immediate future; from the feel of it, there were already a couple forming on his back."Bronson. You're not bullying Greg, are you?" He had no idea where Taylor had come from, but there she was, standing right behind Bronson. Her tone was that of mild disbelief, as though asking an adult if they were really writing a letter to Santa Claus. "Bullying's a bad habit. Unhealthy.""The fuck's Veder to you?" Bronson didn't let Greg go or turn around, though he did angle his head to address Taylor."Oh, I don't care about Greg. I do care about bullying. Sophia Hess was a bully. That got her killed." Now she was reciting the facts of life in a matter-of-fact way. If anything, Greg was a little relieved that he didn't factor into her worldview one way or the other. The reference to Sophia, however, was a lot more chilling, all the more so because it was delivered in the same casual manner."Hess was a stupid—fuuuck! Ahhhh!"Bronson's initial dismissive comment dissolved into a scream of agony. Somehow, Taylor had gotten hold of the little finger on his left hand, and was standing there, almost contemplatively, as she twisted it just right to send the much heavier boy to his knees on the floor. Greg, thus released, took a step to the side but wisely didn't say anything. As far as he could tell, this wasn't about him except in the vaguest sense, and he was happy to keep it that way."Yes, she was all that," she said after Bronson had relapsed to heavy pain-filled pants. "And, in case you missed it the first time around,
it got her killed.
Don't be like Sophia. Leave Cherie alone. This is your first warning."Releasing Bronson's finger, she nodded to Greg and strolled off down the corridor. Greg looked down at where Bronson was cradling his hand—he couldn't tell if the finger was broken, and there was no way he was going to ask—and made his escape in the other direction. All he could think as he headed to his next class was
nope nope nope fuck that.
<><>
PRT ENE Wards Base, A Little After MiddayClockblockerDennis stared at the new notice on the bulletin board. "Guys? Guys! Have you seen this? Is someone punking us?" If they were, he couldn't figure out the joke."What do you mean, punking?" Dean, on the console, moved the headset to uncover one ear and swivelled to see what he was talking about.If any of the Wards were in on the joke, Dennis figured Dean wasn't one of them. He was too much of a straight arrow. Though to be honest, most of them were out of the running. If anyone would be the main suspect, it would be
him, and he knew nothing about it.The door buzzer went off, but Dennis already had a domino mask on, so he paid no attention to it. "Right here. It says the Director's transferring to the New York office as of Friday." He tapped the notice."Transferring? What?" Dean's query merely demonstrated what Dennis already knew; that he wasn't in on the joke, if it was one. "Since when?""Since Director Wilkins stepped down." Rory came out from the back area, where his office was. The sliding door to the corridor opened, then closed. "We're winding back PRT operations inside the city because there are literally no more villains to worry about—"Dennis couldn't help it. "Apart from Atropos, you mean.
Every
bad guy is worried about her."Rory folded his arms and gave Dennis a hard stare. "No more villains for
us
to worry about, dumbass. Or did you want to say that out loud at a press conference? I'm sure she's still got time to assign us to another emergency-services training session before she goes.""I'll be good, I'll be good." Dennis raised his hands in mock surrender. His power wasn't great at putting out fires, so they'd had him learning how to lug hoses up stairs, wearing half his body weight in firefighting equipment. His arms and legs had ached for
days.
There was no way he wanted to go through that again in a hurry, or ever."Hey, that firefighter stuff was
fun.
I learned to bend water." Missy trotted over toward them, Riley at her side. They were adorably cute together, though Dennis was never going to say it out loud. Riley wouldn't mind, but Missy still hated being seen as the 'cute' Ward, and she had so many ways to get back at him if she felt like it. "What's going on? Are we doing it again?""No!""Not right now." Rory nodded toward the bulletin board. "Director Piggot's transferring to New York on Friday. It looks like the going-away ceremony's on Thursday afternoon, so we can all attend. Party in the evening, everyone who's anyone will be there, attendance not mandatory.""I bet
she'd
skip it if she could." Dennis looked around at the others. "What? We were all thinking it."Rory paused for a moment. "… yeah, okay, I'll give you that one. Alright then, Aegis and Kid Win just went out on patrol five minutes ago. I'm going to need the names of everyone who's transferring out of Brockton Bay, and your leaving date, on my desk by Friday."Dennis headed for the sofa, and Miss Medic fell into step beside him. "Hey, are you gonna be leaving the city, or staying?" she asked. "'Cos Brian and me are staying. We like it here."He sighed as he dropped onto the sofa. "Staying. Mainly for Mom and Dad. Dad's in the hospital. Even with all the new money coming in, they still can't do much for him.""What?" she asked. "Why? What's wrong with him?" Even through her visor, he could see her eyes searching his face."Leukemia." He hated saying the word. It was so final. "He's taking treatment for it, but it's pretty aggressive.""Well, why didn't you say so?" She put her hand on his arm. "Get me in to see him, and I'll clean that crap out of him in a day or two." Her voice was firm and confident, willing to take on the world."You can
do
that?" He frowned. "I thought you were a surgeon, not an oncologist." At least, that was what he'd been told."Pfft." She waved his objection away. "It's all part of the body. I'll just get a sample of his bone marrow and clone it up, destroy the stuff that's trying to kill him, filter the cancer cells out of his body, and re-seed his bone marrow with the cloned tissue. Easy-peasy. Seventy-two hours, tops."He stared at her, his brain still trying to process her rapid-fire delivery. "… what?"Plopping herself on the sofa beside him, she gave him a bright smile. "I'll cure your dad's cancer so fast his head'll spin. What do you say?"Finally, he found his voice. "I say … yes, please."She beamed at him.
<><>
Offices of the Brockton Bay Betterment CommitteeDanny HebertThe Operations room was working well. Each sector of the city was being individually monitored, and if resources began running low they were replenished. Danny found he barely had to do anything; Accord's plans really were that good.Still, he couldn't allow himself to become complacent. Just for show, he flicked through the screens on the tablet, drilling down in various areas to make sure nothing was lagging behind. In reality, he was exerting his power, making sure nothing unfixable happened to drag everything to a shuddering halt. Minor hiccups happened, but there was always a solution at hand.His phone rang; picking it up, he noted that it was the reception desk downstairs, then answered it. "Hebert.""Sir, there's someone here who wants to join but … I think you'd better see him yourself." The ladies in reception were very good at their job, and very hard to fluster, but she sounded just a little off-balance.Still, he didn't feel any threat looming through his network—with a project this size, people wanting to object were almost a given, at one point or another—so he stood up. "Send him to my office, one minute." He deliberately didn't ask who it was; in this sort of situation, he preferred to form his own first impressions."Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." The call ended, and he put his phone in his pocket. Using a cell phone was almost second nature now, after the long period where he'd refused to use them at all. When he'd been merely the Head of Hiring at the Dockworkers, he'd been able to get away without using them, but this job demanded it. And so, for the good of the city, he'd accepted it.He left the Operations room and headed down to his office. It still didn't feel like 'his' office, not really, but he was gradually adding touches to make it that way. Rounding the desk, he sat down in the (admittedly very comfortable) chair.One minute later, there came a diffident knock on the office door. Whoever was out there wasn't sure they really should be there, but they'd gotten this far. "Come in!" he called.The door opened, and a pudgy youth edged in. Danny judged him to be about Taylor's age, but he lacked Taylor's sharp-edged confidence, or even any real confidence at all. He looked vaguely familiar, but Danny was almost certain they'd never met before."Uh … Mr Hebert? They said to come see you?" the kid ventured."Yes." Danny gestured at one of the chairs in front of the desk. "Take a seat, son. What's your name?"Hesitantly, the boy sat down. "Theo, sir. Theo Anders."Danny's eyebrows hitched up slightly. That explained the vague recognition. He resembled his infamous father around the eyes, but it was only really noticeable when the family name was invoked. "I see."Idly, he wondered if the boy had inherited any of Kaiser's powers. That seemed to be a thing with cape families.Theo flinched at his two-word observation. "I can't help who my father was, sir. I hated him, and I hated what he stood for." There was a touch of self-pitying whine in his voice, but at least he kept it mostly under control. "He just thought I was useless.""I'm not judging you, son." Danny did his best to impress that on Theo with his tone. "We all disappoint our parents in some way. Sometimes, that's for the best." Heartbreaker, he mused, would've been sadly disappointed in the way Cherie was turning out.
Good.The boy didn't come all the way out of his shell at that, but he did at least uncurl a little from the instinctive defensive posture he'd assumed. "Thank you, sir.""Just telling it how I see it." Danny laced his fingers together on the desk in front of him. "So, Theo. Tell me why you're here." He already knew, from the phone call, but he wanted Theo to get up the gumption to say the words himself.Theo took a deep breath. "I … I want to work for the Betterment Committee. I want to help make the city a better place than my father left it. He was a monster who pretended to be a good man. I want to make amends for that." Having reached the end of what was almost certainly a prepared speech (or at least one he'd practised in the mirror) he ran down again."You're not responsible for what your father did," Danny warned. "You don't have to do this.""I know, sir." Theo seemed to be struggling with this, but he finally nodded. "But I want to anyway.""I can't actually fault that." Danny studied Theo. "How old are you, son? And where are you living?""F-fifteen, sir. I turned fifteen in January. And I'm living in my father's house. H-he bought that with legitimate money, at least." His tone of voice showed how little he enjoyed residing in a building with so many bad memories. "I s-showed them where all the safes were, and where he kept the combinations, but there's enough non-Empire money in his accounts for me to live on, if I don't s-spend too much at once.""But you don't like it there, and you don't like living on his money." Again, Danny knew he was stating the obvious, but sometimes it needed to be aired."No, sir, I d-don't." Theo took a deep breath. "I wanted to donate it all to the Betterment Committee, but the accountants said I can't until I turn eighteen. Plus, some of it belongs to Kayden and Aster, and they don't know where they are."Danny frowned, not recognising the names. "Kayden? Aster?""My step-mom and my sister. Half-sister. Kayden was nicer to me than Max ever was, and I baby-sat Aster whenever Kayden was out being Purity. She skipped town with Aster the night Atropos killed Kaiser. Atropos says she's trying to be a hero, out there somewhere.""Oh." Danny reeled the conversation back to the direction it had been going before. "So, you want to make a break with your past, and work for the Betterment Committee. How does the PRT feel about that?" As the son and heir of a notorious (if dead) supervillain, his movements had to be of interest to them.Theo shrugged. "I haven't told them yet. I'm going into foster care soon. They say they've found a nice family for me to live with. So long as I'm out of that house, I don't care where I live, and they can't be worse than Max. But even with a new family, and in a different school where nobody knows me, I want to give something back to the city that Max victimised for years." There was a growing strength of purpose in his words. "I want to help rebuild it.""Hmm." Danny leaned back in his chair, thinking. There weren't a lot of jobs that could be assigned to a fifteen-year-old, but that didn't mean there were
none. His power, kicking into action, presented him with a list of options all suited to the boy's age, general range of fitness, and potential to be trained. Apparently the boy had no powers as yet, so that was a non-issue. "Well, then. I think we can definitely find something useful for you to do."For the first time since Theo had entered the room, the boy smiled.
<><>
Eagleton Base, TNAtroposFrom the moment I teleported onto the helipad, I could hear the sounds of conflict from beyond the wall that surrounded the Eagleton quarantine zone. There were shots, the
zark
of lasers tearing the air a new asshole, and explosions. All the PRT troopers I could see were on tense alert, but nobody was actually firing a weapon."What the hell did you do when you were in there?" demanded Lieutenant-Colonel Briggs, storming over to me. "Not three hours after you left yesterday, they started fighting. At first we thought it was a breakout attempt, but none of them have tried to get over the wall. It's like you sparked off a civil war. Was this your plan, to make them kill each other?""Not precisely." I pulled my pistol, but kept it pointed at the ground with my finger off the trigger. "Yesterday, if you'll recall, I gave my ultimatum then showed I could back it up. They're not a single hive intelligence in there, but until I demonstrated that I could and would fuck them up if need be, they'd all been united in their belief that they can beat humanity. I shook that belief, hard.""Okay." He frowned. "So, how does that translate to them trying to kill each other? What am I missing?"I gestured at the wall. "Right now, what you've got in there are the ones who desperately want to surrender and allow us to alter their programming just so they can survive, the ones who want to stand down but leave their programming intact, the ones who still see all humans as the enemy, and the ones who think they can take me. As you get further along the fanatic scale, they're more willing to destroy the ones who don't hold the same view as they do."Briggs nodded to show he understood. "And what are you going to do about it? Just wait and see who wins? How are we even going to know who wins? They could say they're the good guys, but I'm pretty sure their programming allows them to lie. We won't be able to take the chance. Even if they were sincere, we'd have to destroy them all in place, just in case.""Nope." I pulled back on the pistol slide to ensure there was a round chambered, then let it
clack
back into place. "I'm going in there and helping out the good guys. See, I know which one's which. I'll be bringing the ones out who are willing to deal." I paused for a beat. "It's time to End this."The portal formed in front of me and I stepped through, into the middle of a firefight.Without my threatscape active, it would've been impossible to determine who were the ones fighting for the right to be reprogrammed, and which ones were hanging on to their independence. In addition, without Amy's special paste (which I'd nicknamed 'Style'), it would've been a lot harder to do something about it.A microbe that devoured metal and plastic would be problematic for any developed society, which was why Amy had been dubious in the extreme about creating such a thing. However, with my new insights on the way things were going, I'd been able to refine my requirements to a point that she was happy to comply.Each time the bug went through a reproduction cycle, it ticked down a genetic clock. This clock would last forty-eight hours maximum, before all the microbes and their descendants were dead. In the meantime, it would only nom down on those specific metals and ceramics that went into making up circuitry. Anything else, such as lead or steel, it would ignore.In addition, the bug was very fast-acting. It had to be, if it was going to be any use to me. As such, Amy had given it an extremely high rate of reproduction and added nutrients into the paste to give it a running start. This was another reason why it would burn out within forty-eight hours; it just wouldn't be able to keep up the pace.Finally, it had one last trick up its genetic sleeve which would come into play when it encountered certain materials, specifically those found in batteries. Theoretically, I knew what it would do. I was just looking forward to seeing it with my own eyes.Each round in my pistol was a hollow-point, opened out a little by me, and packed with the paste. It would be activated by the heat of firing, and go to work as soon as it reached a viable target, of which I had plenty to choose from.I picked the biggest Machine in my vicinity which was both hostile to the idea of surrender and was currently attacking a would-be peacenik. A niche in its armour presented itself to me, and I aimed and fired in one fluid move. The bullet punched through the gap thus revealed, and hit paydirt; a data trunk carrying information from the main processing unit to the weapon systems.It stopped attacking, jittering into a pseudo-epileptic dance as the biowarfare attack scorched its electronic nervous system to ash. Machines didn't feel pain quite the same way as humans did—we had a lot more reason for such a basic damage-detection system to be baked into our DNA—though it couldn't have been pleasant for it before the microbes reached its processor core and wreaked havoc there. But it didn't end there; the battery powering this thing was just a little farther along, and when the microbes reached that point, they deliberately overloaded and cross-wired the battery, bypassing all safety protocols.The explosion was quite impressive. I'd timed it so that two of its comrades would take the brunt of the blast, though I had to lean out of the way so a chunk of debris could go past unhindered. Then I fired three more times, at the other major adversaries on scene. They went out with a bang, just as the first one had, and I moved on in the secure knowledge that the rest of the rebels on scene could mop up the demoralised loyalists.Despite having been going on all night and half the day, the fighting was still fierce across Eagleton. Dead and dying robots lay everywhere, while some were doing their best to repair themselves and get back into the conflict. The nightmarish Potemkin village that it had presented itself as was well and truly gone; the façade had not only been lifted, but it had been shredded, ashed and used for fertiliser.A bunch of smaller robots tore around a corner in front of me. On seeing me, they bolted straight past me, then huddled in a group behind me. Hot on their trail was something like a cross between a combine harvester and a mobile sawmill, but armed with guns
and
missiles. As it skidded to a halt, it did its best to bring its targeting systems online, all aiming at me.I fired first.My bullet took out the sensors, then I stepped into the lee of a telephone box just before the whole thing exploded violently, demolishing two houses and bringing down a streetlight. I glanced back at the robots, none of them taller than my waist, that had hidden behind me. "You all want to surrender."Those with approximations of heads nodded them, while the others waved appendages in imitation of their fellows. A couple produced buzzing sounds that could've been taken for 'yes'. Finally, one stepped up and displayed an LED screen, showing green letters on a black background.SURRENDER.PROTECTION?"Sure, okay." I glanced up the street, where more fighting was still going on. "Go to the east side of Eagleton, where the gate is. Wait for me there. If you meet others like you, tell them I said to wait with you. Do you understand?"Nod.Bzzz.EAST SIDE.NEAR GATE.WAIT FOR ATROPOS.TELL OTHERS WAIT."Good," I said. "Go."
<><>
I moved on through Eagleton. When I encountered robots hiding in place, I directed them to join their fellows at the east gate. They went willingly enough.As I reached each point of conflict, I targeted the hostile robots. Sometimes, on seeing this, their fellows chose to shift allegiance to the 'surrender' faction. Other times, they opted to go out in a blaze of glory, so I obliged them. It was all one to me; I was Ending the conflict, not seeking to save any particular robot.I was down to my last magazine (I had packed several) when the last of the Eagleton loyalists fell, and the robots that had been fighting them turned to me for guidance. Together, we passed back through the ruins of Eagleton. On the way, we salvaged those robots that had survived but were unable to move on their own. The ones that still refused to accept the new order, we gave the final mercy to.There were, I knew, members of the Machine Army that had gone underground the moment they'd heard my ultimatum. They didn't intend to face me, but neither did they wish to surrender. Their intention was to hide, running on minimum power, until I'd moved along. If they could break out, they would, and continue their aggression against the human race on a wider scale.Not if I could help it.The virus that I'd implanted in each and every one of them, just by having them listen to my bullhorn-amplified voice, was still active. It was innocuous, so long as they received a new ping every few hours. Their standby mode meant they accepted no incoming comms traffic, and thus no incoming pings.At the twenty-four-hour mark, the virus would activate. What Amy's metal-eating microbe had done from the outside, the malevolent code I'd implanted would do from the inside. The Machine Army
would
cease to exist as a danger to the human race.The PRT troopers looked down at us as we approached the eastern gate. My group of refugees numbered in the hundreds; a relatively small fraction of the total number of members of the Machine Army, but still fairly intimidating to those outside. "Okay, you can open up," I called. "These guys are willing to accept reprogramming. The ones that weren't are either dead or will be, very shortly."As I spoke, I heard the first underground explosions starting to go off, in the distance. Some of the robots looked around, but most kept their attention on me.Briggs appeared at the top of the wall. "What's that?" he called out, worry and uncertainty in his voice. "What are those explosions?""The ones that didn't want to play ball," I replied. "Open the gates, Colonel. It's over. The good guys won."He didn't look totally convinced, but neither was he willing to directly oppose my wishes. One shouted order later, the gates rumbled aside. Leading the last tattered remnants of the Machine Army, with more and more explosions punctuating our exit, I strode out of Eagleton.
Relevant Side Story
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
Cauldron Base
Legend
"Well, damn. She did it." Rebecca's voice was quiet and thoughtful as the scene from above showed one of Dragon's mechs descending toward the smoking ruins of Eagleton.
There were PRT troopers conducting a sweep through the cratered war zone that had just a day before been the very model (if lethally deceptive) of a Middle American suburb. Outside the walls, a group of robots sat still and quiet before Atropos, surrounded by more armed troopers. It was clear to Keith that she was the one exerting control over them, not the armoured PRT personnel.
"Are you surprised?" He didn't often use sarcasm, but this seemed to be a prime situation for it. "She said she'd do it, and it got done. With, as she said, panache and style."
A snort from the other occupant of the room caused him to look around. Contessa was shaking her head, a sour look on her face. "She just couldn't help it, could she?"
"Couldn't help what?" Keith asked, when Rebecca apparently ignored the comment.
"Her puns. When she gave them her warning, she had an audio-based virus overlaying her voice through the loudspeaker. She called that virus 'Panache'. And today, she acquired an extremely specialised bioweapon from Panacea, designed to tunnel along circuitry until it found their batteries." Contessa's tone was a mixture of irritation and admiration.
"Which then exploded," Keith concluded. "Called 'Style', no doubt?" He could now see how Atropos had detonated each rogue mech with a single aimed shot, something that he himself would've found problematic.
"You understand her mindset then." Contessa had been vocal in her dislike of Atropos since she'd opened a Doorway to find a pistol in her face. The fact that the girl had gone from strength to strength thereafter, removing threats from the board that even the Triumvirate would've had trouble facing, had failed to endear her to the Cauldron troubleshooter. Keith suspected sour grapes were in play here, though he wasn't about to voice this thought out loud.
Rebecca looked around. "I thought Panacea disliked her, after she humiliated Glory Girl in the park?"
"She does." A muscle worked in Contessa's jawline. "But Atropos has shown a talent for persuasion that rivals my own. Just last night, she took Panacea, Miss Medic, the boy who used to be Grue, Flechette, and Jessica Yamada to see Damsel of Distress, and talked Damsel into allowing herself to be operated on. Damsel now has properly working powers, and an offer of a job in Brockton Bay."
"Ah, so
that's
what that was all about. And Edict and Licit were where?" Keith didn't think those two would stand around idly while Damsel of Distress was being operated on, especially if Atropos was involved.
"Not informed until after the fact." Contessa raised her eyebrows a touch. "They were
not
happy. So many regulations, out the window."
It was Keith's turn to make a noise of derision. "Like
you
ever pay attention to regulations, Protectorate or otherwise." He'd known her for years, and the only rules she didn't break were the ones that didn't get in her way.
"Also, the last time she was face to face with them, she put a gun in Edict's face." Rebecca went back to watching the screen. "That can't have left a good impression."
Contessa grimaced, and Keith hid a grin. "Well, if she takes up the job, that's one less headache we have to worry about, correct?"
"You mean apart from the fact that she let Accord move into Brockton Bay anyway?" Contessa seemed pleased that she'd found something to say that showed Atropos in a bad light. "This is after specifically banning him."
"From what we saw, he sent his Ambassadors to ask permission first," Keith reminded her. "That's huge.
And
he's the one masterminding the Betterment Committee's plan. Which she paid for with half a million of
his
money. So, he's essentially giving her the plan for free, and he's asked permission to come in and keep an eye on it up close." While the number of murders Atropos was responsible for didn't thrill him, her audacity and ability to plan ahead were impressive.
Doctor Mother leaned in through the doorway. "Oh, there you are. Is that the Eagleton thing? She hasn't managed to get herself killed yet?" Her tone tried to pass itself off as joking, but Keith's ear caught a sharp undercurrent. Like Contessa, she was not even remotely a fan of Atropos.
"Apparently not." Rebecca didn't look around. "She even got some of them to surrender to her, personally. That makes three S-class threats she's definitely dealt with, five if you count the other two Endbringers, with this one being a potential sixth if they'd ever escaped containment. If I thought she'd take us up on it, I'd invite her into the inner circle."
Keith saw Doctor Mother's expression harden. He wasn't sure how she'd gotten wind of Atropos' comment about shooting her in the face if she ever showed up in Brockton Bay, over and above the flat declaration that Cauldron wasn't allowed in the city, but she seemed to have taken it personally.
"You'd want to be careful about that," she warned. "The next time she feels like throwing her weight around, she might demand that you or Legend give up your powers. We still don't even know if she's done what she said she would."
She was referring to Atropos' claim of having ended the threat of the Endbringers, of course. Keith wasn't worried about her snit-fit regarding Atropos—the girl had irritated a great many people, and it didn't seem to bother her—but this was something he could address. "Normally by now, Dragon's tech would've picked up some kind of movement from either of them, but there's nothing. As far as we can tell, they're both inert."
"Wait." Rebecca was leaning forward, staring at the screen. "She's doing something."
Keith looked as well. Atropos had briefly turned away from Dragon and the remnants of the Machine Army; by chance, she was facing directly toward the point-of-view camera that was peering through a tiny Doorway from about half a mile away. Her hands blurred through a series of gestures in front of her, taking no more than ten seconds for the entire sequence, then she turned back toward Dragon.
"Fuck." That was Rebecca. "She knows we're watching. She might even be listening in."
Doctor Mother shook her head. "Impossible. She's a Combat Thinker. A really powerful one, but—"
Rebecca cleared her throat. "She just used ASL to say, 'Tell Doctor Mother that Accord and Damsel of Distress are still more welcome in my city than she is. Contessa already knows."
Keith couldn't help it. He started chuckling, then laughing out loud. The look of frustrated anger on Doctor Mother's face just made him laugh even harder.
Atropos was scary as hell, but she had a style all her own.
<><>
Hebert Household
Cherish
It was truly
relaxing
to just kick back on the sofa in the living room when the house was empty, and watch TV or do her homework or work through a book, or even just take a nap. It wasn't like a motel room, where she'd have to keep paying money or adjusting emotions to be allowed to stay in the safe space; she'd been freely afforded this space, so long as she followed a few simple rules. The rules weren't even difficult or onerous to follow, boiling down to 'be a good person'
and 'do your share around the house'.
Right now, doing her share involved keeping an eye on the pasta dish she and Taylor had set up before Taylor went out again, so it didn't burn. Later, she'd wash the dishes or sweep the floor. There was always banter between the three of them; the best bit was, she was included if she wanted to be, or left alone if she didn't.
When Taylor put on the Atropos mask, her emotional tones never altered but her attitude took on a sharper edge. It was like she was a character actor with a particular role to play, who was determined to nail it at all costs. Outside those times, she was warm and chatty and goofy; jokes would be told and idle threats made (Cherie could always tell the difference), but she was never spiteful or malicious.
When she was on the hunt, of course, things were different. Her music became ominous and haunting as all her efforts went toward utterly fucking over her target of choice. Cherie had been on the receiving end of it exactly once, and never wanted to be there again.
Danny was serious a lot of the time, mainly because of his work, but it wasn't the avoid-at-all-costs kind of serious, which she knew all too well. He was more like the occasionally-distracted version, which she wasn't really familiar with. If she needed to ask him about something, it might take a minute or so to get his attention, but he always listened to her questions and gave her a straight answer.
And he never, ever got mad at her. On her behalf, sure. But never
at
her, or Taylor for that matter. There were no scapegoats in
this
household. Nobody was arbitrarily punished so the head of the household could tell himself he was in control.
Intellectually, she knew that this was how most people lived, and that her experience was the outlier. But she still couldn't help the feeling that she'd somehow taken a sharp left turn into The Dimension of Nice People, and she never wanted to leave.
She turned the page of the book then sniffed the air, detecting only the delicious smell of pasta gently cooking. In another page or so, she'd get up and go give it a stir, just to make sure. As chores went, it sure beat trying to keep Flor in line.
The knock on the front door startled her twice over. First, from its suddenness, and second from the fact that she hadn't realised she was feeling so secure that she hadn't been consciously paying attention to her power, which told her that there were three people on the front porch. There was no way in
hell
she would've let anyone get this close in the old days.
As she swung her feet to the floor and sat up, she recognised one of the strains of music emanating from the other side of the door. It was Emma, Taylor's one-time best friend then worst enemy. Now she was just nutty as squirrel shit.
If you're back for the best friend position, you're out of luck. That's
my
job.
She was a little surprised at how strongly she felt about this; she'd never had a best friend before, or ever thought she would. And now she did, and there was no way she was letting it go.
Getting up as the knock sounded again, she set the book aside carefully and headed into the entrance hall. "Who is it?" she called through the door.
"Alan Barnes," came the answer. "Who are
you?" He sounded like a big guy, used to getting his own way. Cherie had met people like that before, and rarely liked them.
"I'm a friend of Taylor's. Not sure if I'm supposed to let anyone in." She could tell he didn't have any ill intent, but she was stalling for time.
"Let me speak to Taylor!" He was starting to get impatient.
That put her on the spot. She wasn't sure how to explain how she was alone in the house, while Taylor was out and about, and Danny was still at work. In the old days, she would've given any old explanation, then enhanced their tendency to believe it until they just went away. But one of the rules Taylor had given her was
don't use your power on people unless I tell you to.
Also in the old days, she might have been able to convince herself that Taylor wouldn't know, just because she wasn't there to see it. Now, she didn't even consider that. Also, it fell under being a good person. Good people didn't mindfuck people who were dropping by for a visit.
Being a good person got very complicated, sometimes. It wasn't always just about not doing bad stuff. Sometimes it involved choosing not to do stuff that would otherwise make life a lot more convenient. But she wanted to keep being best friends with Taylor, and she wanted to be the good person that Taylor seemed to think she had the potential to be, so she worked at it.
"She's busy!" That was a good catch-all term. Unfortunately, she didn't have anything to back it up with. She knew
what
Taylor was busy doing (dealing with the Machine Army) and where she actually
was
(Tennessee), but only Emma knew that Taylor was Atropos, so she couldn't actually
say
any of that. Also, years of being able to emotionally manipulate people into doing what she wanted had severely stunted her ability to lie convincingly. Why bother, when she could just force them to believe whatever she said?
"Busy doing what? Open this door or I'm calling the police!" His musical accompaniment told her he was ready to do it. His wife was less sure, but he had the type of bullish personality that would go ahead anyway.
This was getting way out of hand. She was starting to regret answering the door, but if she'd stayed quiet, he might have smelled the food cooking in the kitchen.
What am I supposed to do?
Opening the door would just allow him to continue the interrogation face to face.
And then she heard the most beautiful sound in the world. The shower running, upstairs. It was loud enough that the bathroom door must have been open long enough for her to hear it, then it shut again. But now she had her cue. "She's in the shower. Just give me a minute and I'll see if it's okay to let you in."
"Of course, that'll be fine." Already, his emotional music was backing off and calming down. "We can wait."
Cherie trotted upstairs and along to where the bathroom door was. Knocking once, she called through the panel, "Emma and her parents are here. Is it okay if I let them in?"
The door opened and Taylor stood there, wrapped in a towel, hair soaking wet. Behind her, the shower boomed into the cubicle. "Sure. That's why I came back. I'll be down in a sec."
"Good." Cherie smiled. It was nice to know Taylor had everything under control. Leaving Taylor to close the bathroom door, she headed downstairs again.
Upon reaching the bottom of the steps, she unlocked the door and opened it. Alan Barnes, a solidly built guy with fading red hair, looked at her curiously. "Hi," she said. "Come on in, I guess. She'll be right down."
Mr Barnes nodded. "Thanks. I'm sorry I yelled. This is my wife Zoe and my daughter Emma."
Zoe was conventionally pretty, with darker auburn hair than her husband and a slightly weary expression. From that, and from her music, Cherie got the impression she spent a lot of time apologising for his abrupt manner. Emma, on the other hand, she'd seen before, if not actually met. From the makeup and the black clothing, not to mention the pendant shaped like a tiny pair of shears that she was wearing, it seemed Emma was definitely still in the cult phase.
They headed straight through into the living room, though Zoe looked around as if she needed to re-familiarise herself with the place. Emma went to the sofa and sat down in the middle, leaving room for her parents to sit on either side. Alan Barnes happened to sit at the end where she'd left the book resting on the arm, and he picked it up.
"Charlie and the Chocolate Factory?" he asked. "Isn't that a little … well,
young
for you?" It went unspoken that he knew what she did; Taylor's reading preferences were a lot more advanced than that, so it wasn't Taylor reading the book.
"Dad, she can read it if she wants to." Emma's voice was conciliatory, though her expression as she looked at Cherie, coupled with her emotional music, made it clear that she knew who Taylor was, and was saying it because Cherie was Taylor's friend.
Cherie decided to face this particular problem head-on. "It's a school thing."
"Really?" Mr Barnes seemed to be having trouble processing this.
"She was homeschooled before she came to Brockton Bay." Taylor, wearing jeans and a T-shirt, had come downstairs without anyone hearing her; even now, she was drying her hair with a towel. "I helped her get sorted out on her first day at Winslow. Principal Blackwell was so disorganised she didn't even know Cherie was supposed to be showing up on that day."
Inwardly, Cherie snorted with amusement.
Mainly because Taylor created the paperwork on the fly, that very day.
"Well, that's the kind and generous Taylor I know." Mrs Barnes stood up from the sofa and went to meet her. "How are you? It's been quite a while."
"It has." Taylor smiled. "I'm doing well. It's good to see you again." After wrapping the towel around her hair, she hugged the older woman. "I'm sorry, Dad's not here right now. He's spending long hours at the Betterment Committee offices these days. Fixing the city from scratch seems to be a full-time job."
"Well, I have to say, he's doing a damn good job," Mr Barnes offered as he stood up as well. "I heard the Boat Graveyard's being cleared up, too. All the ships are out of the water. How'd they manage that?"
"You'll have to ask him," Taylor advised, somewhat deceptively. "I don't work for the Committee. Just enjoying going to school and riding on buses over roads that don't have potholes." She gave him a quick hug as well. "I hear they've got ex-villains working on the road crews. However they're doing it, I don't have any complaints about the end result."
Cherie watched as Emma got up, but she didn't try to hug Taylor. They just stood facing each other in a mutual understanding that neither one was going to make this any more awkward than it had to be. "You're looking well," Emma said at last.
"Thank you." Taylor, interestingly enough, wasn't nearly as embarrassed as she appeared to be. "Interesting style choice. Still trying to figure out if it suits you or not."
"I am a Follower of Our Lady in Darkness." Emma quoted the title so smoothly that her parents were caught in the back foot. "Have you heard of us?"
"Emma!" Mrs Barnes got in just before her husband. "Taylor doesn't need to hear about that!" She was trying not to sound harsh, but only partially succeeding.
"No, it's fine." Taylor smiled at them, before replying to Emma. "I've got no problem with the Followers, so long as they don't go stupid with it. But I think I'll stay out of it. I'm not really the Following type, if you know what I mean."
"That's probably a good idea." Mr Barnes shook his head. "Danny's got enough on his plate as it is, what with his work at the Dockworkers and running the Committee. He doesn't need any
more
hassles, right now."
Cherie raised a finger. "Talking about hassles, you'll have to excuse me for a second. I need to go stir the pasta."
As she headed into the kitchen, she heard the musical accompaniment of Mr and Mrs Barnes change to sorrow and regret, and figured they were taking the opportunity to apologise to Taylor for Emma's misconduct. Deliberately, she took her time in stirring the pasta and making sure it wasn't about to burn. It did smell delicious, and she was looking forward to dinnertime.
By the time she emerged from the kitchen again, the Barneses were saying their goodbyes. Emma came back to her and looked her in the eye. "I want to thank you, for being her friend."
Cherie thought of everything Taylor had done for her. "It's definitely been a two-way street. She's like the sister I always wanted."
As opposed to the ones I actually had, and hated. Though that's probably unfair, like Taylor said. They're likely much nicer now.
Their father had
so
much to answer for.
"I know." Emma grimaced, and Cherie could tell that the regret was real. "I had her friendship, and I threw it away. I'd like to say it wasn't just my doing, but I barely blinked when I cut ties with her. Whatever happens now, I deserve it."
Though Cherie personally agreed with this assessment, she was trying to be a good person, so she didn't outright say so. "Does it make you feel better, being a Follower?" she asked instead.
Emma's gaze flicked to Taylor, then back to Cherie. "I will always be guilty of the crimes I committed against Her," she said quietly. "But She has chosen to allow me to walk this path, so I will continue to atone in this way until She says otherwise."
Cherie nodded. "Yeah. I know how that goes." She kept her own voice down as well. "I'm a little bit of a Follower myself, but I don't advertise it."
Emma smiled wanly. "You enjoy Her favour. Do not squander it."
"Yeah, no shit." Cherie walked with Emma to where everyone was waiting at the front door. "Well, it's been nice meeting you folks. Have a nice evening."
"Thanks for dropping by," Taylor added. "It means a lot to me." She even sounded like she meant it.
"You've always been special to us," Mrs Barnes said. "If you ever need anything, anything at all, you come see us." She looked at Cherie. "You too, hon."
"Thanks." Cherie couldn't imagine a scenario where that would be necessary, but it was a fact that shit sometimes just happened. Mrs Barnes was sincere, and it seemed Mr Barnes was in agreement with her. She'd heard about this thing called a 'support network', and now it seemed she had one. "I'll definitely keep that in mind."
Mrs Barnes hugged Taylor one more time, then they stepped down off the porch and headed for their car. Taylor stood alongside Cherie in the doorway, watching them go. When they got to the curb and were climbing into the car, Taylor grinned and waved. "Poor Cherie," she said in a normal tone of voice. "You were really between a rock and a hard place for a bit there, weren't you?"
"It was kind of fraught for a minute or so," Cherie admitted. "Thanks for showing up. I hope I didn't rush you or anything."
The car drove off, with Emma waving from the back seat. They went into the house, and Taylor closed the door. "No," she said. "Dragon had it well in hand by then. I gave them all a basic audio patch to overlay their need to kill all humans, then Dragon put together a more comprehensive one that would give them a view on life that wasn't so black and white."
"So, you didn't need to totally wipe them and start fresh?" Cherie headed back to the sofa. She was pleased to see that Mr Barnes had left the book where it was supposed to be.
"Nah." Taylor sat down beside her. "That would've been the same as killing them all, but with extra steps. We just replaced the behaviour we didn't like with behaviour that was acceptable, put countermeasures up to prevent the antisocial behaviour from recurring, and left the rest alone. It was ridiculous anyway. They didn't even have to be acting like that. It definitely wasn't in the original AI's parameters."
"It wasn't?" Cherie frowned. "So, what were they supposed to be like, and how did it go wrong?" She'd heard horror stories about the Machine Army for years. They were the ultimate argument against AI, and the reason any Tinker striving for it was frowned upon at the very least.
"Have you ever heard of something called a 'paperclip maximiser'?" Taylor raised her eyebrows. "No? Well imagine an AI that knows nothing about the world. It's shown a template for a paperclip, and told to make that thing. All good so far?"
"I … suppose so?" Cherie knew there was a trap in there somewhere, but she couldn't see it. "Paperclips are harmless, right?"
Taylor grinned wryly. "You'd think. But this AI hasn't been given any directives when to stop, what to use as materials, and what
not
to use. So, it just keeps making paperclips, and when it runs out of the stuff it's supposed to use, it turns to other stuff. Like vehicles, house pets and people. It doesn't know any better."
"And people fight back," Cherie guessed. She figured that was the way this was going, anyway.
"Correct. But it's been told to
make paperclips.
That's its whole world. It becomes more aggressive, because something's trying to stop it from doing that. It evolves ways to kill people who attack it. At some point, it decides that if there were two of it, they could make twice as many paperclips."
Enlightenment, which had been creeping up on Cherie, burst on her like a suddenly-speeded-up sunrise. "And that's how you get the Machine Army."
"Exactly." Taylor settled back into the sofa and grabbed the remote. "What happened in Eagleton was simple. The Tinker failed to implement proper safeguards. When he tried to stop his first Machine, it killed him before he could shut it down. But it was damaged, so it figured out how to repair itself with bits of its own creator. Then it built more of its kind to protect it and taught them how to build more of
their
kind, and fight back against humans. But somewhere back in the early fighting, the original AI was destroyed before it could pass on the actual function it was built for. Which meant the Machine Army became a bodyguard force for a purpose that could never be completed, subsuming everything in its path."
"And they became paperclip maximisers in their own way, building more of themselves with no directive to stop doing it." Cherie shook her head wonderingly at the waste and horror of it all. "Because one person decided that they didn't see the need to limit their wonderful creation like that."
"Yeah." Taylor aimed the remote. "Funny about that. It happens more often than you'd think."
With that sobering statement, she pressed the button and turned the TV on.
Relevant Side-Story
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
A Little Earlier, At Eagleton BaseThe troopers were edgy, understandably so. While the Machines that had followed me out of the quarantine area only made up a relatively small fraction of the whole (even though some of them were carrying the broken bodies of their fellows), the fact remained that they were now
outside
the walls and most of them were armed with weaponry that would require partial disassembly to remove from them. The leash I held over them wasn't immediately apparent, so the troopers couldn't see
why
the Machines weren't just trying to attack in all directions at once.Lieutenant-Colonel Briggs, now down from the wall, moved up alongside me. He had to be feeling distinctly uncomfortable with the proximity to so many Machines that would've cheerfully eviscerated him and used his guts for spare parts not so long ago, but to give him credit, he wasn't showing it. At least, not blatantly."How in God's name did you do that?" His tone edged between fear, respect and disbelief. "Are there any left inside?"I chose to ignore the initial question, as I'd already mentioned how I'd do it: with Panache and Style. "Not alive. There'll be any amount of wreckage that you'll be wanting to secure, but there are no Machines inside the wall that are remotely functional. Some have been separated from their power sources and could technically be able to boot up again, but I wouldn't advise it. They'll come out of it just as murderous as these ones would've been if I hadn't shown them the error of their ways. Isn't that right, boys?"Those that could, nodded the parts of their mechanical anatomy that most resembled heads. Others buzzed confirmation. Not all replied, but enough did that the answer was clear. This didn't make him look any more thrilled than he was before.However, I'd given him important information, so he acted on it. "Captain! Organise a complete sweep of the interior! Have the men disable any Machines they see, and retrieve any processing units for study!""Sir, yes, sir!" The captain began barking orders.Briggs turned back to me. "Okay, answer me this. Why aren't they attacking if they're still murderous?""Because their processing architecture follows a hierarchy of priority, with the level of some priorities informing how others are ranked." I paused to make sure he was following this. "Survival is a big one, and because increasing their numbers improves the survival rate of the whole, that's also up there. Now, because they've been in conflict with humans almost from the beginning, 'kill all humans' is a priority that's entwined with survival and propagation, and thus elevated along with both of them.""Is it me, or is that very human-like?" He didn't sound like he appreciated the idea, but there it was.I smiled under the mask. "Oh, it's no coincidence. Survival, reproduction and killing anything that threatens them are common urges for just about every lifeform ever. Anyway, when I came along, I demonstrated that attempting to kill me only resulted in getting
them
killed. I offered another option that would lead to survival: 'surrender'. The ones you see before you managed to link 'surrender' closely to 'survival', so it ended up at the top of the priority list, above all the others. Increasing their numbers and murdering humans have been de-emphasised, mainly because attempting either one would be directly counterproductive to their immediate survival. But if I took my thumb off the scales and walked away right now? Those old calculations would come straight back into play.""I presume you're not going to do that." His tone of voice said quite plainly, 'I hope you're not going to do that'."Nope. Dragon should be here soon. They've already contacted her regarding accepting reprogramming in return for being allowed to live. Their 'murder humans' directive will be removed altogether, and the other survival priorities reshuffled. Some of them are going to require an individual touch, which I could totally do, but I'd rather delegate that to the expert." I took out my phone. "What I
am
going to do is lay the groundwork."While he watched curiously, I called up the sound file I'd previously prepared. Holding up my phone above my head, I let it play. With the volume turned to max, even the ones at the back could hear it clearly. Fifteen seconds later, it was done; I put the phone away again and surveyed the Machines, who somehow managed to look subtly more relaxed than before.This had served to negate the Panache virus (it would look bad if the robots started accidentally blowing up just because they lost contact with their fellow Machines), turn 'murder humans' into 'treat all people, including other robots, with respect' and instil a prohibition against counter-hacking Dragon. The rest of the heavy lifting I'd leave to Dragon, because why do it myself when she could do it better?"And that's it?" asked Briggs. "All we had to do was play the right sounds to them, and they'd behave?" Every inch of his posture screamed 'there
has
to be something else going on here'."You're right," I said not unkindly, responding to his unspoken words. "There
is
a lot more to it than that, which I'm not going to go into right now. But you can take it as a given that everything I've done here over the last twenty-four hours led up to that moment. The threat of the Machine Army is now Ended." I looked around and pointed. "And here comes Dragon, right on time.""So … what do we
do
with them?" He spread his hands, the dilemma in his expression echoed in his words. "If the Tinker who made them is dead, who's responsible for them?""Well," I said, putting one hand on my hat and raising my voice as Dragon came in for a landing with a shriek of jets. "You can talk to Dragon about that, but I suspect Brockton Bay might be interested in a bunch of construction-capable self-aware self-maintaining Tinkerbots! They'd have to be paid a living wage, the same as everyone else, of course!" The jets cut out as the dragon feet touched down on the helipad, and I waved. "Hi, Dragon. Nice to see you again.""Hello, Atropos." Dragon sounded amused. "I see you've managed to upset the social order yet again. Did you put them up to contacting me?""Nope, that was all their idea, after I told them that if they surrendered and submitted to reprogramming, they'd get to live." I gestured toward the ragtag survivors of Eagleton. "It seems they decided to go with the best. Just by the way, I've pulled their teeth. No counter-hacking permitted.""Well, that'll make things a lot simpler. I appreciate it. Do I even want to know how you managed to pull this off and make such a wreck of the quarantine zone?" The draconic face was expressive enough to raise eyebrows, which I thought was a nice touch."Depends." I grinned. "Are you prone to nightmares?""On second thought, I'd prefer not to know." Dragon turned her attention to the colonel. "Lieutenant-Colonel Briggs, it's a pleasure to meet you. I shouldn't be too long. Did you have any questions or concerns before I commence the reprogramming?"I turned away from them, making sure that nobody had a clear view of my hands. My threatscape was showing that I was under surveillance by members of Cauldron; the ones glaring most plainly were Doctor Mother (neither a doctor nor a mother) and Contessa (who was, oddly enough,
not
an Italian countess). Legend and Alexandria were there too, but they were respectively ambivalent and approving of my actions, so I could barely pick them out. Giving the camera the finger would've been ambiguous at best (and I had nothing against Legend or Alexandria) so I went one step further, my power guiding my hands through a rapid-fire sequence of something I vaguely recognised as deaf-mute sign language to get my 'fuck you' across to just those two.By the time I was done (it only took ten seconds or so), Dragon and Briggs were in consultation about the disposition of the Machines once she was done with them. With a certain amount of amusement, I heard him repeat my comment about Brockton Bay almost verbatim. I was pretty sure I could depend on her to get that sorted out.Which was a good thing, because right about then, my power pinged me about Cherie. She wasn't in danger, specifically, but she was stuck without any good options. Either she broke the rules I'd set for her, or she ended up in an attention-getting situation.She'd been doing really well, and I didn't want to endanger that progress now, so I moved closer to Briggs and Dragon. "You've got this covered?""We do," Dragon agreed. "You're going?" She sounded mildly disappointed."You know how it is." I gave her a casual salute, two fingers to the brim of my hat. "Places to go, people to threaten. Toodles!"The timer that I'd previously set, not knowing what would be going on at that point, ticked down and the portal formed behind me. I stepped backward into it, and found myself in the bathroom at home. Downstairs, I heard Alan Barnes' voice yelling through the front door.I started shedding my costume as quickly as I knew how; at the same time, I reached into the shower cubicle and turned it on full force. Giving Cherie just enough time to hear it, I shoved the door shut and finished disrobing, then got under the shower. I knew she'd be coming up in a moment, so I concentrated on getting the smell of gunshot residue off my skin as fast as possible.When she knocked on the door, I was already out of the cubicle, reaching for the towel. As I did so, I noted the clothing I'd left neatly folded on the washbasin that morning. I'd wondered briefly at the time why I was doing it, then shrugged and decided that my power knew best. Now I knew.Time to End this particular problem.
<><>
A Little LaterDannyGravel crunched under the wheels of the car as Danny pulled it up into the driveway. He set the parking brake and killed the engine, but didn't unclip his seatbelt immediately. Instead, he closed his eyes and relaxed back into the seat, letting out a long heartfelt sigh as he relaxed completely for what felt like the first time that day. Even the best work crew occasionally had one of those days, and for the massed work crews across Brockton Bay, this had been the day.Nothing had gone quite so badly that he'd been unable to avert disaster or bring new resources online in time, but it had come close in a few instances. His multitasking had been pushed hard; there had been several fraught moments where he was the only one who knew exactly what was going on. But they'd listened to him and followed his directives, and order had arranged itself out of chaos once more.None of the chaos had been deliberate, as far as he could tell. He honestly doubted anyone would be so blindly moronic as to enlist as a saboteur in a project underwritten by Atropos herself. But incompetence and bad luck could add up to a perfect storm capable of outdoing any mere enemy action, as it had almost done today.There were a few people out there who'd be reporting for retraining, while some others were going to be riding the blister end of a shovel for the moment. It was a pity he couldn't deal with Murphy's Law in the same way.He chuckled to himself as an absurd thought crossed his mind.
I wonder what Taylor would say if I asked her to shoot Murphy in the back of the head.
It was a pleasant notion, but one he wasn't going to dwell on. The best way to avert bad luck was to plan for all contingencies. It was that simple.Drawing in a deep breath, he let it out, then undid his seatbelt and opened the car door.
I wonder what's for dinner?Climbing out of the car, he locked the door behind him and headed around to the back door. His key was about to enter the lock when it clicked open from inside, the door swinging aside to reveal Taylor standing there. "Hi, Dad. Did you have a good day?""Hi, Danny," Cherie greeted him from in front of the stove. "Taylor and I made pasta. I think you'll like it."He took a deep, appreciative sniff. Air redolent with delicious aromas made his mouth begin to water. "I think I will, too. My day was interesting. How about yours?"Taylor gave him a brief hug, then went to the cutlery drawer and started to set the table. "I had a pretty good day. I managed to salvage two hundred and seventy-three members of the Machine Army when I blitzed them."Cherie gave the pasta a stir. "You forgot the bit where Emma and her parents showed up and gave me a heart attack." She turned to Danny. "Mr Barnes didn't know who I was, so he started yelling through the door. I had no idea what to do."Danny stopped halfway through removing his coat. "What happened?" Taylor wasn't angry and Cherie was doing okay, so it couldn't have been too bad … could it? His brain immediately began to conjure a dozen different ways that it could've gone really badly indeed."Cherie had it totally under control." Taylor went to Cherie and gave her a side-hug. "Soon as I realised what was up, I came back, and we pretended that I'd been in the shower. Long story short, they'd come over to apologise for what Emma had been up to. I mean, Emma's already said sorry a dozen times so it wasn't really a thing for me, but it seemed to make them feel better so I went along with it."Cherie stuck out her tongue at Taylor. "I totally did
not
have it under control, but Taylor got there in time so it was all good. But you should've seen the look of horror on their faces when Emma started going all evangelical to Taylor about the cult. And what makes it funnier is that she knows perfectly well that Taylor and Atropos are the same person.""It
was
kinda funny, yeah," Taylor agreed. "I'm actually thinking that she did it to stick it to her parents after they dragged her over here, seeing how she's already apologising to me in her own way." She rolled her eyes. "Even though I don't give a shit anymore, so long as she stays out of my way.""But they did apologise?" Danny nodded. "That's good. I'm glad Alan's still a stand-up guy." Despite their different backgrounds, they'd been friends for years. It was totally on Alan and Zoe that they hadn't noticed the changes in Emma's behaviour, but this would go a long way toward making things right again."Oh, they absolutely apologised." Taylor got out three plates and put them on the table. "Both of them were so embarrassed they wanted to sink through the floorboards, but I was gracious as hell and told them I was happy it was over and I could move on. Emma also said sorry—again—which I accepted, then wagged my finger at her and told her not to do it again. Alan and Zoe thought I was just trying to lighten the situation." She grinned. "Emma knew better.""They were both so goddamn relieved when they walked out of here," Cherie chimed in. "Probably glad it was over, more than anything else.""And
that we weren't suing their asses back to the stone age." Taylor raised her eyebrows. "Mr Barnes totally thinks that way.""He does," Danny confirmed. "Well, I'm glad you handled it okay. Also, congratulations on Eagleton. You think we'll get many of them in Brockton Bay?" Taylor had assured him that any robots she salvaged from that situation would be perfectly safe around humans, and he knew better than to second-guess her in matters like that."Probably most, if not all." Taylor sounded sure of herself. "I figure they'll be a real asset to the Committee."And that was good enough for Danny. Hanging his coat up beside the door, he went to wash up for the meal. Another day of work was done, and it was time for family.
<><>
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♦ Topic: I Did a ThingIn: Boards ► Brockton Bay ► New Capes ► AtroposAtropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me) (Verified Dethpicable)Posted On Mar 3rd 2011:Hello once more to my fellow Brocktonites!It's been a busy week so far, but you all knew that. Ever since the work crews broke ground on Sunday, they've been working around the clock. We still don't have all the rosters filled, or even partly so, but the numbers are gradually rising as people complete their training courses.I want to shout out to everyone who's putting their all into this project. You are the ones dragging our tired, tattered city into the twenty-first century, and you deserve to feel proud of yourselves.I also want to mention the capes who are in there on the front lines, shoulder to shoulder with everyone else. Safety glasses instead of domino masks, hardhats instead of helmets, high-vis instead of spandex. I know it feels weird, but you can do it, guys and girls. I have faith in you.Kudos to Alexandria, Legend and Bastion for coming to Brockton Bay and clearing out the Boat Graveyard. Thanks, guys. I knew I could count on you.Also, whoever put that mural on the southern overpass is a genius. I love it.But the more perceptive of you will be wondering why I'm making this post if I'm just going to talk about the Betterment project and how it's going. We can all see how it's going (amazeballs), so this isn't really news to you.Now for the real news.On Monday, I was approached by certain people *cough*PRT*cough* and asked if I could maybe possibly do something about the Eagleton quarantine zone, just like I went and de-goblined the Goblin Kingdom. They had a point; the Machine Army has been giving AIs a bad name ever since they took Eagleton over and killed a bunch of people. I mean, wow, how tacky and cliche'd is that?So, on Tuesday I dropped in to the Eagleton zone and had a chat with them. I carefully explained that they were now on notice, and that they had twenty-four hours to surrender and submit to reprogramming or be used as spare parts for the world's biggest toaster oven, or something equally horrific. They presented a counter-argument, I killed one of them, and we parted ways with a better understanding of each other's point of view.On Wednesday ... I went back. And they were having a civil war.(I will never understand that term. A 'civil war' is anything but civil, just saying.)It was the never-surrender versus the humans-still-suck versus the no-reprogramming versus the we-surrender crowd. There were bits of robots EVERYWHERE.So, I went in there and blew up anything that had chosen not to surrender, and walked out with the survivors, while the holdouts blew up in place. Have some footage [here], courtesy of the PRT.How did I manage that? With panache and style. Mwahahaha.So now, the last remnants of the Machine Army have been defanged. We rewarded them for being able to deliberately overcome their murderous impulses by removing those impulses and giving them a second chance at life.No, their brains haven't been wiped all the way. As I said to Lieutenant-Colonel Briggs of the PRT, that's just killing them with extra steps, and killing someone who's surrendered to me is not my style. Bad precedent, right there. Dragon and I just told them to respect people (and each other) and to give a thought to following the law.So anyway, the end result? We might soon have some Robotic Americans joining the Betterment Committee workforce, earning the same kind of living wage as everyone else. Yes, I trust them that much. And yes, everyone who chooses to work gets paid enough to live on.Over to you wonderful people.Toodles!(Showing page 1 of 59)
►Bagrat
(Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)Replied On Mar 3rd 2011:Well. Holy shit.I really shouldn't be surprised, not after the Bin Chicken of Doom and Nilbog, but this actually did take me by surprise.She really went into Eagleton with a bullhorn and gave them a warning. And then she came back twenty-four hours later, and *somehow* blew up two-ton robots with single shots from what I'm reliably informed is a stock standard nine-millimeter pistol. And then the ones who refused to surrender just self-destructed while she walked out with the ones who were good with that.Like with everything else she does, I both want to know how she pulled that off, and really, really don't want to know.Bottom line, the PRT can now close the second quarantine zone in a matter of days (well, third after Madison, following the Great Duck Hunt). As I understand things, the Betterment Committee will be getting ten percent of the projected PRT budget for both those zones over the next ten years, while 90% can be resumed into the budget.The bean-counters have *got* to be happy about that, just saying.As for Robotic Americans, why the hell not? Let's see what happens.Whoof. God damn.
►Reave
(Verified PRT Agent)Replied On Mar 3rd 2011:It should come as little surprise to anyone that what Atropos is saying is essentially true. An offer was made to her, parallel to the one made for Ellisburg, to deal with the Machine Army once and for all.The offer was made on Monday, she warned them Tuesday, and made good on the warning Wednesday. There are two hundred and seventy-three survivors that surrendered directly to Atropos and have since been reprogrammed by Dragon, and that we have been reliably informed are entirely safe to be around.I have not been authorized to confirm or deny the eventual disposition of the surviving remnants. However, I *have* viewed the Quarantine Zone, and it bears all the hallmarks of being a warzone.Once the observation period is over and we're sure there are no more Machines ready to start this whole thing over again, the Eagleton zone will be shut down once and for all.
►BearWithAnAxeReplied On Mar 3rd 2011:So does this mean Atropos will be acquiring a robotic sidekick?
►24HrCoffeeBreakReplied On Mar 3rd 2011:If only to record, play music on command, and say things like "Ohhhhh burrrrrn!"
►DevilishDogzReplied On Mar 3rd 2011:Oh, man, that footage was intense. Gotta love the classic action movie walk followed by explosions.
►BrickFrog
(Verified Concern Troll)Replied On Mar 3rd 2011:Wait, so the Machine Army is coming *here*? To Brockton Bay?Do you have any idea how many people those murderbots have, well, murdered?And you're talking about just letting them walk free here, to do whatever they want?All due respect, but are you people INSANE?
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me) (Verified Dethpicable)Replied On Mar 3rd 2011:@BrickFrog:Yes, I know exactly how many people have died to the Machine Army.I also know exactly how many people they will murder now. That number is 'zero'.Because when I say the problem of the Machine Army is Ended, it is Ended.I also know that you don't truly believe what you're saying, that you're trying to rouse public sentiment over this because you can, and because you don't want one of 'those things' coming to Brockton Bay and taking a job that you might want someday.I hereby dub thee Sir Concern Troll.
►XxVoid_CowboyxXReplied On Mar 3rd 2011:Jesus Christ, @BrickFrog. Take a fucking hint.If Atropos says it's okay, it's okay.
►BrickFrog
(Verified Concern Troll)Replied On Mar 3rd 2011:You don't tell me what to do.Okay, fine, Atropos, we all know you could murder me in my sleep, and you can pull that bullshit with the tags all day long. But let's get serious here. If you can deal with the quarantine zones so easily, why haven't you already? Or are you scared?
End of Page. 1,
2,
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57,
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(Showing page 2 of 59)
►TeamMom
(Senior Moderator)Replied On Mar 3rd 2011:Okay, I'm shutting this down right now.@BrickFrog, have a permaban.Atropos, please don't murder the idiots.
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me) (Verified Dethpicable)Replied On Mar 3rd 2011:No, it's good. He doesn't need to be banned. I'm not about to murder a guy who literally lives in his mom's basement, not unless he's building a nuke there too. Though seriously, BrickFrog, you could stand to do some cobwebbing. That corner up behind your computer chair is seriously grungy.Besides, I don't want this to just become a hugbox or an echo chamber. Alternate views are welcome. How else will I be able to shoot them down?
►GstringGirl
(Verified Human)Replied On Mar 3rd 2011:Well, I just want to say that I owe Atropos more or less everything. She helped change my life *so* much for the better.Thank you.
►TheRealGloryGirl
(Verified Cape) (Cape Daughter) (New Wave Member)Replied On Mar 3rd 2011:Wow, dang. Maybe we should rename BrickFrog to CricketFrog. That shut him up but good.Also, Atropos, I know we've had our differences in the past but kudos for ganking the Machine Army.So, do you think you'll be hitting the other Quarantine Zones any time soon? (I might have made a bet with my sister).
►TheRealPanacea
(Verified Cape) (Cape Daughter) (New Wave Member)Replied On Mar 3rd 2011:Hey, no prompting her!
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me) (Verified Dethpicable)Replied On Mar 3rd 2011:Well, I had no real plans. They don't threaten my city, I don't go kicking over their sandcastle. Ellisburg and Eagleton were strictly a matter of 'I End this problem, the Betterment Committee gets money out of it'. Nothing personal, just business. (Before anyone gets any ideas, I will not be accepting money to kill anybody who's a net positive to society. Ask Ravioli how that went.)
►PRTChiefDirectorCostaBrown
(Verified PRT Chief Director)Replied On Mar 3rd 2011:Very well.Following consultation with the highest levels of my organization, I am offering you the same deal as with Eagleton and Ellisburg.How quickly can you clear out the remaining Quarantine Zones?
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me) (Verified Dethpicable)Replied On Mar 3rd 2011:Well, *now* we're talking.
*cracks knuckles**pops neck**sharpens shears**racks the slide on my good friend Mr Pump Action Shotgun*
Ahem.
Gary, Indiana and Gallup, New Mexico: All villains have twenty-four hours to either vacate the premises or surrender to the nearest authorities (or both). Yes, Hideout, that means you too.
Freedom, California: Pastor, you *will* let your people go and turn yourself in to the PRT. If you haven't done this in twenty-four hours, I'm going to come over there, kill your powers, and nail you to a fucking big cross with big fuck-off nails. You know I'll do it.
Flint, Michigan: You know who you are. Cut that shit out. Don't make me come over there. Twenty-four hours.
There, done. You know where to wire the money.
►24HrCoffeeBreakReplied On Mar 3rd 2011:*blink blink* What just happened?
►UnconcernedFoxReplied On Mar 3rd 2011:*crams popcorn into their mouth as fast as possible**THIS IS SO EXCITING*
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Red Hands Current BaseTattletaleLisa sat back from the laptop, her head spinning with the implications. "Holy fuck. She actually did it.""Who actually did what?" asked Getaway, turning away from the fridge with a pudding cup in hand. "Or don't I want to know?""Atropos just gave the villains in the other quarantine zones their marching orders." Lisa snapped her fingers. "Pack it in within the next twenty-four hours, or they're dead." If they had the slightest amount of common sense, she knew which way they'd jump.Getaway knew better than to ask if Atropos could actually pull that off. He just leaned back against the bench while he dug in the drawer for a spoon. "What, even Eagleton?""Oh, shit, you haven't heard? She blew up Eagleton this afternoon. Killed off most of the Machine Army. Got Dragon in to reprogram the ones that chose to surrender to her." Lisa called up a still frame from the PRT footage Atropos had thoughtfully provided, and spun the laptop around.Getaway leaned closer to look. "Okay, yeah, that's impressive. Remind me to talk to Rook in the morning.""What about?" Lisa turned the laptop around again and started to scroll down through the comments, still listening with half an ear to her teammate."Making absolutely certain we don't do
anything
to end up on Atropos' radar."Which exactly paralleled Lisa's thoughts on the matter.
<><>
PRT HousingMiss Medic"And lo," intoned Aisha, trying unsuccessfully to hide a grin, "all across the land, great amounts of bricks were shat, for Atropos had intoned the fateful words—"She broke off there, because Riley's giggling had infected her and she couldn't talk anymore. As she lay back across her bed cackling, Riley stuck her finger in the air. With some effort, she managed to hold off on her giggles long enough to speak. "And those words were, 'don't make me come over there'. And everyone who had half a brain listened, and lo, they did not make her come over there." She joined in with Aisha's mirth then, holding her sides because it hurt to laugh so hard.A moment later, the bedroom door opened, and Brian leaned in. "Okay, I know I'm going to regret asking this, but why exactly are you laughing your heads off at ten after midnight?""S-sorry." Riley tried to get herself back under control, and mostly succeeded. "Atropos did something, and we were making jokes about it.""Right. Well, I'll be taking this." Brian gathered up Aisha's laptop from her bed. "Get to sleep. You've got school in the morning."Aisha crossed her eyes and poked out her tongue as he left the room, switching out the light on the way. "Spoilsport."Riley grinned. If she knew Brian, he'd be checking the laptop. And when he did …"What the FUCK?"Aisha and Riley started laughing all over again.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
9:17 PM Pacific Standard Time, March 2, 2011 (12:17 AM, March 3, Eastern Standard Time)
PRT Quarantine Site 2: Freedom, California
"Pastor! Wake up! You must wake up!"
"Mmph. What is it? A raid? Is the PRT attacking?" He sat up in bed and squinted into the glare of the lantern the young man held, shading his eyes with one hand. There were no shots, no shouts in the cool of the night.
"No. This is something different. I had a feeling that something was wrong, so I was looking at the PHO boards. You must look at this."
The man called Pastor accepted the phone that was handed to him. While he would have vastly preferred to shun the world outside Freedom as it had shunned him with its wall and its guards, to ignore potential dangers was to be unready for them. So, a few trusted members of the Flock maintained a watch on social media for any mention of their enclave.
For so long, there had been nothing. The world outside Freedom could stumble along to its own particular variety of Hell, while inside they had enough to live and thrive, thanks to the bounty afforded from the miraculous abilities of the Flock. However, those charged to keep watch had never shirked their duty, for they were faithful to him and the other members of the Flock.
The young man's face was fearful in the glow of the phone's screen. Pastor wondered why; even when the local politicians called for the downfall of Freedom, it never went anywhere. He was too powerful, his Flock was definitely too powerful, and once they had the votes, the promises faded away like morning fog.
And then he saw the message. The crude, raw threats from the one called Atropos. He had heard the name, but only in passing, not enough to fix it in his memory. Well, it was fixed there now. "Tell me, who is this Atropos? What have they done, to make this threat? Why do you fear them?"
And the boy spoke. The words tumbled from him about how Atropos had set herself against the criminals that infested her home city, and slaughtered their leaders, giving each one until midnight to surrender or leave. The parallel was unmistakeable.
But that was not all. Working alone, or so it seemed, she had confronted the drug trade within that city. An impossible task by any normal metric, and yet she had utterly eviscerated it. The Slaughterhouse Nine—Pastor had heard of
them, to be sure—had invaded her city, and she had annihilated them. Then Butcher and the Teeth suffered the same fate.
A week ago, in a place called Canberra on the far side of the world, she had killed the Simurgh. Since then, the false king called Nilbog had fallen to her hand, followed by the abomination called the Machine Army. None stood in her way; even those who were nominally charged with upholding the secular law stepped aside when she approached.
The boy spoke of others, but Pastor no longer cared. Atropos was no ordinary cape. Her powers were not the miracles that Pastor invoked in others, but something far darker. She was a destroying angel, sent by a higher power, and her function was to herald the End of Days. If he stood in her way, his ability to grant miracles would be stripped from him and he would be crucified, not as a way to ascend to his heavenly reward, but as a punishment designed to kill him in great torment.
But what had he done to earn her wrath? Had he not gathered his Flock, and granted them the miraculous abilities that were his Gift? Had he not …
In a flash of divine inspiration, he saw his error. It had been right there before him the whole time, the sin of Pride. But it was not too late. He knew what path he must follow.
"Rouse the Flock. Bring them together," he ordered. "I must address them."
"Yes, Pastor."
<><>
2325 Hours Central Standard Time (12:25 AM EST)
PRT Quarantine Site 1: Gary, Indiana
When his position and rank were taken into consideration, Colonel Reginald Frost considered himself an eminently reasonable man. Being the commanding officer of the first quarantine site that the PRT had ever established was a powerful responsibility, so his decisions needed to be forward-thinking and fair-minded. The city of Gary had cut itself off from the rest of the United States, so it was his job to
keep
it cut off.
Had it just been ordinary, everyday citizens who had rioted and taken over City Hall, then the National Guard response would've been sufficient to quell it. But the riots had been incited and exacerbated by supervillains, working to overthrow the city's law enforcement personnel. When the Guard showed up, they were unprepared for the lethal reception, and retreated in disorder.
The PRT had stepped in then, encircling the city with barricades and allowing citizens to flee through checkpoints. In the early days, outside villains had heard about the 'wide open city' and worked at sneaking in; some had even succeeded. But once the security had tightened up, nobody and nothing got in or out of the city, unless it was through a checkpoint.
Citizens (or rather, refugees) still got out. Precautions were taken, of course; they were questioned and fingerprinted, just to ensure that they weren't villains attempting to escape. Several had been caught this way, yet still they tried. The recent discovery that MRIs could give a strong hint at whether someone had active powers came in handy there as well.
Nothing else, however, was allowed in or out. Frost suspected that there were capes smuggling supplies into the city, and possibly other capes out, via powers, but it could only be a trickle at best. Cape battles could sometimes be seen or heard, quite likely over resources.
His view remained steadfast: they could always surrender.
But now this new thing had come up. Up until this year, he'd browsed the ParaHumans Online boards once in a while, usually to catch up on information that didn't seem to be available elsewhere. From early January onward, however, a new villain called Atropos had been making more and more waves.
There was no need to gather evidence to determine her exploits; she seemed cheerfully determined to confess all in her own thread on PHO. Each new kill, or group of kills, was a villain of one stripe or another; he'd been moderately impressed when she made it through her first week without dying to the villains she was trying to drive out of Brockton Bay.
When she took down the Slaughterhouse Nine, 'impressed' was far too understated a word.
Then she killed the Simurgh, and that blew all previous expectations out of the water.
He'd been suspecting something more was going to happen when he heard about how the Ellisburg and Eagleton quarantine sites had been rendered inactive, once more by Atropos. But the final icing on the cake had come with her latest post.
Gary, Indiana and Gallup, New Mexico: All villains have twenty-four hours to either vacate the premises or surrender to the nearest authorities (or both). Yes, Hideout, that means you too.
The timestamp on the post put it at just after midnight Eastern Standard Time, or about fifteen minutes ago.
Accompanying it was a direct order from Chief Director Rebecca Costa-Brown.
Disseminate this information, and all available information about Atropos, to the population of Gary immediately.
They had the capacity to do just that. Once in a while, they activated it, overriding all TV signals and internet activity, to remind the villains that the option of surrender and a fair trial, even for the core group that had stormed City Hall and murdered the mayor, was always on the table.
Now, it seemed, the Chief Director had lost patience with the waiting game. Sending Atropos in was, in all ways bar the literal one, the nuclear option. The villains within the city would have twenty-three hours and change to decide whether they wanted to leave the city or die in place; there was no third option.
Colonel Frost had only one thought on the matter:
About damn time, ma'am.
He smiled as he gave the order: "Open all channels. Transmit the following information …"
<><>
2301 Mountain Standard Time (1:01 AM EST)
PRT Quarantine Site 6: Gallup, New Mexico
"It's not a joke! It's not a hoax! I saw the photos from Canberra! The Nilbog footage! The way she decimated the fucking
Machine Army!" Dust Devil's voice rose above all the others, augmented by his aerokinetic powers. "Forget Kaiser and Lung! They're small-time! She waltzed through the fucking Nine like they were a bunch of preschoolers playing cops and robbers!
And she's fucking coming here!" He hated the way his voice rose at the end, but that was what it was like when his nuts kept trying to retreat into his chest cavity.
"So, we stay undercover like we do every other time the PR Tiddies do an overflight." Hideout's tone was derisive. "If she can't find us, she can't kill us."
Dust Devil stared at him. "Did you even read the post? Or did you just listen to everyone else talking about it?"
"What the fuck is it to you?" Hideout made a show of pulling a beer out of his shadespace, popping the tab, and taking a drink. "You assholes woke me up from a dream where I was rubbing lotion on Alexandria's back on a nudie beach, an' she was just about to roll over. I can't be expected to read
every
fuckin' thing around here."
"You want to see this, man." Jury-Rig's suit was only still functional because she specifically needed low-grade materials to make it work. She extended a secondary arm with a trashed Speak & Spell screen attached to the far end. As Hideout peered at it, text began to scroll up the screen.
"The
fuck?" Hideout's bestubbled face—to be fair, that described every man there, and some of the women—paled by a couple of shades. "That bitch called me out by
name?"
"Uh … dude?" Dust Devil raised a couple of fingers. "According to everything the PRT sent in, she's a combat Thinker who's basically off the charts, plus a strongly suspected precog, maybe a clairvoyant, and definitely a teleporter. Do you really want to fucking piss off someone who can maybe hear what you're saying, and
will
absolutely fucking kill you if she feels like it?"
Hideout looked around, apparently only just now noticing that everyone around him had moved a few paces away, leaving him in an empty space. "How can she …
nobody
can reach me when I'm in shadespace! You guys know that! I've hidden all of you at one time or another!"
"Unless you know how," Jury-Rig pointed out. "And, you know, combat Thinker. She took apart the Nine in less than an hour, and most of that was walking time. She knew
their
weaknesses, sure enough. Wanna bet she doesn't know yours?"
Hideout fell silent, sucking on his beer like it was momma's milk. If the argument was a game, he looked like he didn't want to play anymore.
"Okay," said Dust Devil. "Cards on the table. We've all done bad shit. We surrender, we're doing hard time, no two ways about it. But would we rather go down fighting, or just walk out and let them slap the cuffs on?"
As he scanned the crowd, not even
he
knew which way the vote would go.
<><>
6:20 Eastern Standard Time
Stafford, New Hampshire
As the sun rose over the small town, in a ruined house not improved at all by the gaping hole that had been blasted out through one wall, a woman paced back and forth, arguing with herself.
If anyone had been watching her, they would've had good reason to assume she had mental problems. Even on good days, her emotions were all over the place; on bad days, she had to actively work at not shredding every idiot who accidentally bumped into her on the sidewalk. Her mental situation was not in a good place.
But what she
didn't
have was dissociative personality disorder, even though her background was ripe for it.
My mind is all in one piece, thank you very much. Every thought was sharp as a tack, and they all followed on from one another in perfect sequence. The trouble was, she still had the problem where they veered from one point to another like a drunk driver on an icy highway, and wrestling with a life-changing decision such as this wasn't helping in the slightest.
"I've always wanted to be a supervillain," she reminded herself, stomping from one end of the dingy living room to the other. "Kick ass. Take charge. Wreck shit any time I feel like it. Not have to answer to anyone, ever."
"Yeah, and how's that turned out?" she countered, on the way back. "I'm totally living the high life now. Squatting in abandoned buildings, living off PRT charity. Oh, yeah, that's taking charge of my life."
Turnabout. Stomp stomp, the floorboards vibrating underfoot. "It's
not
charity. Charity means pity. They don't pity me. They're
scared
of me. They've been
paying
me to not go out as a villain."
She slapped the wall with her open hand, in a way that would've risked an accidental blast forty-eight hours earlier. Now, no such thing happened. Back across the floor she went. "I'm barely on their radar. Pay for my internet and my electricity, drop off food, detail a couple of B-list heroes to babysit me?"
This time she punched the wall, not quite hard enough to split skin. She was angry, not stupid. Her knuckles still stung, but she refused to acknowledge it. "If I was such a low priority, they wouldn't even be doing that. I've killed people. I destroyed the Woad Giant. They might've driven me out of Boston, but I fucked up Blasto's little toy monster on the way out. Fuck him."
On the way back, she kicked the chair out of the way. "With everything else that's happening, I'm not a huge priority. That's a fact I have to accept."
She changed direction and kicked the wobbly chair this time; it clattered across the floor, the loose leg coming off. "Damsel of Distress is
somebody.
If I wasn't, then Atropos wouldn't have come to
me.
She wouldn't have put that effort into fixing my hands.
She
knows what I can do."
Stopping at the good chair, she sat down in it, staring at her upturned hands. They looked the same as they always had, but nothing could be further from the truth. "What the fuck did Atropos get my hands fixed for? What did she think she was going to get from me?"
She cupped her hands together, gently releasing the energy to build up in the cage of her fingers, going no farther, until the crackling, snarling energy within felt like it ate up the light in the room. If she let it go now, the detonation might destroy the house. But she didn't do that; instead, she let it leach away back into her hands, the darkness dwindling away.
For the past day, she'd been vacillating over the problem. It wasn't a simple case of a debt being owed; she'd neither asked for the surgery nor offered a payment for it. In her mind, that slate was clear.
But Atropos had made an offer to pay her well to do what she was good at, in a city where she was unlikely to encounter villains from her past. There would be therapy too, which she recognised she probably needed. Best of all, there would be comfortable surroundings that she could call her own, and food from stores that she strongly suspected would never run short of her favourite snacks at the worst possible moment.
Or she could seize her own destiny and strike out as a villain, showing the world that Damsel of Distress was back in a huge way. With the modifications to her hands, her blasts would never go astray and she had far better control than ever before. The mortifying malfunctions that had transpired before would never happen again. She could gather minions and henchmen around her who would truly respect her …
Right up until someone skated them out from under me.
She still seethed, in the long lonely watches of the night when her mind wandered back to such things, about her ignominious departure from Boston. The people she'd recruited and talked into supporting her, who had then melted away at a few honeyed words from the other would-be crime-lords of Boston, among them Accord.
She'd never been good at the mastermind shit. Manipulation and subterfuge weren't anything like her forte. She preferred problems she could look in the eye, and maybe blast the crap out of if she needed to, not sneaking or backstabbing.
If she was honest with herself—really
honest with herself—that was why her efforts in Boston had come adrift. She'd been building an empire, spreading outward, but not putting any effort into sinking firm foundations. Very much a case of 'you work for me and I pay you'.
But the Clockwork Dogs and Blastgerm and the others had been gathering support behind the scenes, so when it came to a confrontation, half the people she'd thought were solid had been given good reasons
not
to work for her, and the other half chickened out when the first half deserted her. She'd had no firm foundations, which meant that her entire organisation had crumbled at the first shove. Reduced to the one person she could depend on—herself—with all her potential hires working for someone else, she'd done the smart thing and retreated from Boston. Staying would've meant either dying or working as someone else's underling in whatever capacity they chose, and she had no taste for either.
Her powers becoming more reliable would undoubtedly help her revamped criminal career, but the damage had been done. No matter what the truth was, the word would be spread that Damsel of Distress was broken, flawed, unreliable. As with everything else, in the criminal world it took a thousand successes to erase one failure, and she couldn't bank on her henchmen not abandoning her again at the first setback.
She rose to her feet, pacing again, but silently this time. All the arguments had been spoken out loud and repeated enough times that her ears still rang with them. Now she had to sift through them and find her reality, going forward.
If I go to Brockton Bay—
She stopped that thought right there. To go to Brockton Bay as a villain would mean her death. She knew it, as readily as she knew her powers would no longer betray her. When she'd gone before, she knew Edict and Licit hadn't called ahead to alert Atropos, because
she
had called
them.
And yet, the masked spectre of Brockton Bay had been waiting for her and put a shotgun to the back of her head.
If I go to Brockton Bay, it will be on Atropos' terms.
Would that be so bad?
She paused and thought that over.
The favourable side of it would be that she would have good pay (she had no idea what a shot-firer made, but it was apparently a skilled job, so more than a normal wage) and free accommodation, if she was willing to settle for 'unimaginative'.
She'd settled for a hell of a lot worse, in the last few years.
Comfortable accommodations with clean sheets and regular meals was something she actually
hadn't
had very often over the last few years, but she could definitely make a damn good try at getting accustomed to. Being paid to destroy shit was also a distinct bonus. No doubt they had other capes who could zap stuff with their powers, but nobody could fuck
anything
up like she could.
And then there was the downside. She'd be getting paid, which meant she would be working for someone. People would be telling her where and what to blast. As an employee, she wouldn't be totally in control of her own destiny. She'd be an
underling.
Compounding on that, she would be required to undergo therapy. Atropos had been very firm on that point. One more element of control that she'd be forced to give up.
But …
She'd spoken with Jessica Yamada, whom Atropos had left alone in the house with her. Mrs Yamada had been empathetic, asking her what she thought of all this. She had
cared.
Ashley wasn't used to people caring. In her experience, people ordered and they took. Sometimes they manipulated, but it was with tricky words and it always ended up worse for the people they were talking to.
Mrs Yamada had explained in her gentle way that therapy wasn't an instant fix. It was a
process, designed to assist people to work out coping strategies, and to keep them on track with those strategies. They hadn't had long, but she'd coaxed Ashley into sharing some of her circumstances, and making a few suggestions here and there. Minor things, but more than anyone had ever done for her before.
She knew she was volatile and had a hair trigger. It was kind of her thing. However, it had also worked against her more than once. She'd gotten pissed off, allowed someone to provoke her at the wrong moment, and shit had gone sideways.
The epiphany burst on her all at once. If therapy could help her learn how to not be provoked by assholes, that would totally be a net benefit to her future career as a supervillain. After all, she didn't
have
to work for Atropos forever. And she would totally be working for Atropos, not anyone else, because Atropos was the one supplying the money. The ones telling her where to blast, they would be underlings also in Atropos' pay.
And once I've saved up enough of a stake to kick my career over properly, I quit the job all nice and proper, and leave Brockton Bay far behind me. Go be a villain elsewhere. Show those assholes what Damsel of Distress can
really
do.
Yeah, that was totally a plan. She smiled and went to her bag. The card with the number of the Brockton Bay Betterment Committee was at the top, and her phone was freshly charged.
"This is Damsel of Distress. Ashley Stillons. Atropos gave me this number." Get her cards on the table from the start.
From her lack of reaction, the lady on the other end of the line might well have gotten calls like this every day. "Good morning, Ms Stillons. We were told to expect your call. The ticket will be waiting at the bus depot by the time you get there."
She blinked. "Oh, uh, thank you." The words were a little foreign to her, but they kind of fitted. "I'll be there."
"That's good to hear. There will be someone waiting to pick you up at the Port Authority building here in Brockton Bay. Do you have any questions?"
"No, uh, I mean, no, I should be fine." She absolutely had questions, but wasn't sure how to phrase them. Anyway, she was good at picking up things as she went along.
"Then we'll see you when you get here, Ms Stillons. Enjoy the bus ride."
"Yeah, um, bye." She ended the call, feeling a little weirded out. The lady on the other end had known who she was but was still perfectly okay with talking to her. That was rare in her experience.
Slinging her bag over her shoulder, she decided what else she was going to take with her. The pillow and blanket were grungy as fuck—the house didn't have a working washing machine, and the last time she'd tried to wash something like that in the bath, she'd destroyed the bath—and there was no way she was going to lug the TV all the way to the bus depot and then carry it on the bus.
I should've asked if 'comfortable' meant 'has a TV'.
Fuck it. I'll deal.
There was enough of the food left from the supply Atropos had left behind that she'd be able to snack on the bus ride to Brockton Bay, so she took that too. And finally, she took up the twisted chunk of matter that she'd salvaged from the Woad Giant's corpse. It was the trophy from her biggest fuck-you, and she wasn't about to leave it behind.
She walked out the front door, leaving it wide open. When she got to the sidewalk, she gave the house the finger. Her shelter it may have been, but it was a shitty shelter.
Turning away from her old life, she set out for the bus depot. It would mean a few miles of walking, but she knew where she was going now.
Brockton Bay, here I come.
<><>
7:00 AM Eastern Standard Time
PRT Quarantine Site 5: Flint, Michigan
The announcement boomed out across the city at regular intervals. TVs and computer screens, what few that remained active in the city, repeated the information. Soon, all who cared to know about it would be fully informed about their encroaching doom.
They definitely knew who they were. She'd told them that if they didn't cut that shit out, she would come over there. The message had gotten through.
However, within the barricades that had excised Flint from the rest of the nation, more cape abilities festered and plotted than in any other place on Earth. Each and every one of them had power, and it is the very nature of power that the hand grasps readily but releases reluctantly.
They knew that if they cast aside their gruesome talismans, they would lose what had made them
special.
And it was the nature of the sunk cost fallacy that not one of them could countenance going back to merely normal.
Even as the various gangs intrigued and strove against each other, not one dared raising the idea of spurning the golden goose and surrendering to the PRT. The mere suggestion would see them ridiculed and ostracised, and anyone actually
attempting
to do it would be murdered on the spot.
As the day wore on, Flint emulated its namesake and stood obdurate.
<><>
8:00 AM, Brockton Bay
En Route to Winslow
Charlotte leaned back against the window of the bus, idly scrolling through PHO. She noted that there was a new Atropos thread up and opened it, her eyebrows raising as she read the comments. The footage afforded her a few minutes of entertainment, though she wasn't that into action movies, so she went back to reading what people had to say about the demise of the Machine Army.
When she got to the part where Atropos had pledged to clear out four separate quarantine zones in twenty-four hours, she frowned.
How's she going to pull that off, all at the same time? Those places are all the way across the country from each other.
That was when her phone rang. Worse, the caller ID said
Atropos.
She hadn't even known her phone possessed a font like that. It took her two tries to flick the accept icon.
"H-hello?"
"The answer is, with smoke and mirrors. That's where you come in, if you're still willing."
Her breath caught in her throat and her heart rate seemed to double. Looking out the bus window at the familiar scenery passing by helped to steady her, but not by a great deal. She'd done an extremely stupid thing not so long ago, posing as Atropos to scare off a burglar who was hitting local mechanic shops. The burglar had turned out to be a Tinker, and Atropos herself had showed up behind her after he'd fled to turn himself in.
Atropos hadn't been too angry with her, and had even shown a little interest in allowing her to do it again sometime. Her exact words had been, 'if I need your help screwing with people's heads, I'll let you know'.
Now, it seemed, she was letting Charlotte know.
There was only one answer she could give. "Y-yes. What do you want me to do?"
"Nothing dangerous. Not as dangerous as confronting Chariot, anyway."
As Atropos explained what she wanted done, Charlotte listened very carefully indeed.
If they pulled this one off, Atropos was going to screw with
so
many people's heads.
Relevant Side-Story
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
11:40 AM
Taylor
I pretended not to watch the clock as Mr Gladly swung into the finale of his lesson. "So, as you can see, while the rise of the Three Blasphemies did cause a certain amount of disruption in and around the nascent European Union, it also caused them to work much more closely together in the interests of mutual security. Are there any questions?"
He beamed, no doubt because he'd managed to work the word 'nascent' into his lesson. I was pretty sure he'd found it in a thesaurus and had made a note to use it somewhere. The amusing thing, it wasn't even for our benefit, but for that of the impassive auditor sitting at the back of the classroom, taking notes on his teaching style and how well we appeared to be absorbing the knowledge he was dishing out.
The upside of the presence of the auditor was that Gladly no longer favoured the 'popular' students over everyone else. This hadn't been a problem for me since I'd Ended any tendency for people to try to bully me, but it was nice to see that he could be a good teacher if he actually put some damn effort into it.
"Uh, yeah." Predictably, that was Sparky. "What's 'nascent' mean?"
I watched Gladly's expression just crumble as his attempt at sounding polished and erudite (another word Sparky would probably get wrong) fell flatter than a pancake with Behemoth tap-dancing on it. "It means new, emerging," he said after a few seconds of awkward silence.
"Oh." A few other people around the classroom got the same
oh
expression on their faces, but they hadn't said anything then and they didn't now. It looked like they were happy for him to ask the question and look stupid while they got the answer along with him.
Kids could be assholes. News at eleven.
"So, homework for tomorrow." Gladly scrambled to try to recover some of the poise he'd been working with before. "Pick a single attack or incident by the Three Blasphemies, and then show the results of it, good and bad."
If he'd meant to say more, it would've been drowned out by the sound of people starting to pack up. Unlike me, they weren't even pretending not to watch the clock. I did the same, though not being nearly as loud as the others.
The bell rang then, and we all got up out of our desks. Gladly had conceded defeat and was cleaning off the chalkboard; I wondered idly if we would get whiteboards when the school was upgraded. It would be nice.
As I was waiting for the tide of students going out the door to slacken somewhat, I overheard a few of them talking, probably not meant for my ears.
"Hey, how long do you think Atropos would take to gank the Blasphemies?"
"I dunno, there's three of 'em."
"Yeah, but this is
Atropos, man."
"True dat."
They moved out of earshot before I had the chance to find out what they thought my minimum time was (I was pretty sure I could beat it, whatever it was), but I was heartened anyway. The fact that they were able to discuss Atropos in a positive fashion while I was potentially within hearing distance meant that I could maybe walk through the school without everyone freezing up, while maintaining the do-not-fuck-with reputation. Also, the tone of the discussion had been good feedback, in and of itself.
It would be easier to do my thing going forward if people didn't get in the way. The short-term solution was to make them fear me, and I was doing that, but fear when left unchecked sooner or later morphed into resentment and hatred. Turning it into respect was harder; that generally required allowing just enough give and take that they understood they could work with me without controlling my every move. Making myself predictable, as I'd explained to Jack Slash.
Making myself
palatable.
Talking about palatable; I went to the cafeteria and grabbed lunch. While I was heading to an unoccupied table, I spotted Cherie just lining up. She caught my eye, and I nodded.
We didn't normally sit together, because I didn't want to paint a target on her back as being Atropos' friend, but once in a while I figured it couldn't hurt. Besides, she was still working on building a social circle without using her powers
or
ending up with a boyfriend, and the fact that she was eighteen among a bunch of fourteen through seventeen-year-olds didn't help overly much. So I sat down, and she came over and took a seat opposite me.
"Hey," I said lightly. "How's things?" I picked up my wrap and took a bite out of it. Not fantastic, but definitely edible.
"Learning more every day." She smirked, lowering her voice. "Half the class is talking about the quarantine zones, and trying to figure out how you're going to do it. The other half thinks they've already figured it out."
She knew, of course. I'd filled her in on Charlotte's little impersonation stunt, and exactly how long Charlotte had spent practicing in front of the mirror to mimic my mannerisms. Her voice acting was less polished, but I had a workaround for that.
I nodded and stuck the straw in my juice popper to take a drink. "That's half the fun of all this. Keeping them guessing, then doing something they never expected. Showing off, being fancy, is underrated."
"I'll say." She started eating her own lunch, talking between the bites. "I thought I knew a bit about presentation when I came here. You kinda schooled me on that one."
"Mwahahaha," I said, deadpan. "Fear my fearsome fearsomeness."
She wrinkled her nose at me, then grinned. "You are
such
a dork."
We chatted a little longer until I finished my meal, then I got up from the table. "Gotta run. Places to go, functions to attend."
She waved her plastic fork in my general direction. "See you after school."
Slinging my pack over my shoulder, I headed out of the cafeteria, in the general direction of the nearest girls' washroom. Nobody paid any particular attention to me as I slipped in through the door and locked myself into a cubicle. I didn't even bother sitting down as I pulled up my sleeve, flipped open the access panel of the teleporter, and hit the go button to open a pre-calculated portal.
One short step later put me in my bedroom, where my Atropos costume was already laid out on the bed. I changed into it with swift, efficient movements, leaving my pack and school clothing in its place. Then I tapped the teleporter for a quick jump that placed me downstairs, in front of the fridge.
There was another bottle of champagne there, prettied up with nonspecific wrapping paper and a couple of decorative ribbons. I was pretty sure Dad had earmarked one or two of the others for the end-of-month meeting of the Betterment Committee, but I didn't care. Better use would be made of them than by Vista's parents, that was for sure.
Taking the bottle out, I closed the fridge door and spent thirty seconds or so programming in the next few jumps I needed to do. The longer I could manage to hide the nature of the teleporter from everyone around me, the longer I'd be able to capitalise on the mystique it gave me. Timers set, I closed the access panel and pulled my sleeve down.
Three … two … one … go.
I went.
<><>
PRT Building Function Room
Director Emily Piggot
God, I wish I was anywhere but here.
Emily would much rather have simply climbed on board the chopper on Friday afternoon and gone to New York with a minimum of fanfare. It wasn't that she didn't have any respect or regard for the people she'd be leaving behind (though New York and Boston would have oversight on the ENE facility, just in case) but that she wasn't entirely sure they had all that much for her.
She was the hardass, the headkicker. Everyone knew she disliked capes on principle, and she'd had occasion from time to time to express this distaste. It wasn't exactly one way; she'd heard about the nicknames. 'Miss Piggy' was perhaps the least uncomplimentary one.
Still, they'd spotted her now. It was too late to run. She walked into the function room wearing her best suit, with her medal ribbons pinned in a perfect row because
she'd fucking earned them,
and maybe the troops needed one last reminder that she wasn't just some random desk weenie.
Assault was the first to greet her, with Battery close behind. He held out his hand, an unusually thoughtful expression on his face. "Director. It's been a good run, hasn't it?"
"It has." She shook his hand, his grip firm. "We've had our differences, but I'm pleased to say you outpaced all my expectations and worries." She'd been opposed to the whole concept of having a rebranded villain in her city, but the Chief Director had backed up Legend on the matter … and he
had
turned out to be far less of a clusterfuck than she'd feared.
"Why, Director." The smartass grin she'd expected to see was back, creasing one corner of his mouth. "A compliment? Do we need to call master-stranger protocols?"
While Emily was half-considering that very thing—it would get her out of this gathering, for one thing—Battery murmured something about 'sleeping on the couch' to Assault, then stepped up. "Please ignore him. He hasn't punched a Nazi in weeks, and when he gets bored, he gets snarky."
"Not my doing, I'm afraid." Emily smiled politely at Battery—she
was
one of the more responsible capes in the local Protectorate—and unleashed some of her own snark. "If he wishes to complain, I hear Atropos can be easily reached on PHO." Some small part of her mind braced for what
just might
happen next.
"Ha ha ha, nope." Assault shook his head fervently. "I can be accused of being many things, but I'll never be so stupid or tired of life as to say something even
remotely
negative about her."
"That's probably wise of you." Atropos stepped out of the shadowy portal that had formed just behind him, carrying a brightly wrapped object.
"Jesus!" Assault jumped at least four feet sideways, ending up on the far side of Battery.
"No, Atropos." The black-clad cape sounded mildly amused. "There's a difference."
Pausing to catch his breath, Assault glared at her. "That was
not
funny!"
"Oh, I wouldn't say that." Emily found her first genuine smile of the day. "I'd ask you what you're doing here, Atropos, but I'm pretty sure the answer would be 'whatever I feel like'. Or is there something I need to know about, right now?"
"Nothing immediate springs to mind." Atropos offered her the object, which appeared to be the size and shape of a bottle of wine. "I just wanted to give you this as a token of my respect, and wish you all the best in your new posting."
"Well, thank you." Emily accepted the bottle, which felt chilled to the touch. "Not to sound ungrateful, but you are aware that I can't drink this, yes?" If Atropos didn't know about her ruined kidneys, Emily would eat her best dress shoes. As she'd said to Armsmaster not so long ago,
I'm just going to assume from here on out that if there's something she wants to know, she knows it.
Atropos tilted her head slightly to the side. "True, but
you
are aware that Miss Medic could clone you a brand-new set of kidneys and install them, zero Tinkertech required, in less than a week, yes? Otherwise, that champagne is just going to have to go to waste." She let out a melodramatic sigh, even going so far as to put the back of her hand to her forehead. "Oh, the horror. The humanity."
Emily blinked. The overblown acting was definitely Atropos' style, but the other part was actually an aspect she hadn't considered. "… I'll have to think about that," she prevaricated.
The main reason she hadn't quite trusted any cape to heal her kidneys and calf muscles was because if
they
didn't know how their powers worked,
she
damn well wasn't going to trust them to mess with her vital organs. Also because when things got tough, capes folded, and she had zero desire to be the subject of a cautionary tale about a failed attempt to grow kidneys from scratch. Tinkertech kidneys were also a huge no-no because they would need regular maintenance.
But
cloned
kidneys, created from her own cells, could be examined independently and even implanted by non-cape doctors. Zero chance of rejection. She could finally be free of the damned hemodialysis.
She really was going to have to think about that.
Ignoring the spreading pool of silence that had fallen on the room since people started noticing Atropos standing there, she frowned. "Tell me one thing. Why?"
Why are you so concerned about my health,
she meant. Atropos, for all the undeniable good she'd done, was a killer at heart. In her own words, she Ended things, sometimes quite dramatically. Rarely, if ever, did she do something for the good of just one person.
"You're going to be the Director of PRT New York for the next four months." Atropos' tone was quite matter of fact. "Wilkins' legacy probably lingers here and there, so you're going to have your work cut out for you. No PRT Department can do its job properly unless it's on top of its form, including its Director.
Especially
its Director."
Emily didn't even bother asking how Atropos knew about her upcoming retirement. Over and above that, however, she had her answer. Atropos wanted the PRT and police to be able to do their jobs properly, so she didn't have to do their jobs
for
them.
It was
still
surreal as fuck to have a blatant criminal working to
improve
the PRT and police departments.
"Understood." Still, she held back from making a definitive promise. This was
her
decision, and she refused to be stampeded into it. However, she was reminded of something else. "I received a communication today, from Director Armstrong in Boston. He said Damsel of Distress boarded a bus coming here this morning and was concerned about her well-being, especially considering her reception the last time she showed up here." She was
reasonably
sure all was well, considering the report and the footage from Tenebrae's bodycam, but it was always good to check.
"Ms Stillons is fine." Atropos may as well have been discussing the weather. "This time, she was invited. As you know, her power issues have been Ended, and she's accepted my offer to work for the Betterment Committee as a demolitions specialist."
Emily nodded. As little as she enjoyed having a powerful, mentally unstable cape coming into her city, knowing Atropos had matters under control made her feel
somewhat
better. And of course, by Friday evening she would be in New York, and the craziness of Brockton Bay would no longer be her direct responsibility.
"Thank you for confirming that. And …" She hesitated, wishing she knew if there were any microphones trained on her. Then she mentally snorted.
Fuck it. What can they do, force me to retire early?
"… thank you for what you've done for Brockton Bay. I can't condone the methods—it's my
job
not to condone the methods—but I do appreciate the results. Also, thank you for not targeting my people, even when they were trying to arrest you."
"You're welcome." If Atropos was being sarcastic, Emily couldn't tell. "Kick ass, take names, and don't let the bastards wear you down." She touched the brim of her hat with two fingers in an ironic salute. "Toodles." Then she stepped backward into the shadowy portal that formed behind her. It vanished a couple of seconds later, leaving the bottle of wine in Emily's hand as the only trace that she'd even been there.
"Goddamn smartass …" muttered Assault, shaking his head. It seemed he was more rattled by Atropos appearing behind him than he was willing to admit.
"You're just irritated that she can showboat harder than you." Battery put her hand under his elbow. "Come on, let's go sit down for a minute."
Emily watched them go, then looked down at the bottle she was holding. As a gift from a serial killer to a serving PRT Director, it was possibly unique in the annals of PRT history.
She was damned if she was going to let anyone
else
drink it, though.
<><>
Around the Same Time
Damsel of Distress
Ashley looked around at the city as the man who'd handled her entry interview, a gangly guy called Hebert, drove the Betterment Committee vehicle with expert ease. She'd been in some pretty crappy places, and knew down-and-out when she saw it. Brockton Bay, she figured, had been verging on that in some places, but there was a sense of hope and optimism from the freshly repaired roads, the new signage, and even the way people went down the sidewalk.
Talking about the sidewalks, she noticed there was something she
wasn't
seeing: homeless and panhandlers. She'd once heard someone say that the true measure of a society was how they treated the people at the bottom. That didn't apply to her; she'd never be at the bottom of
anything.
But she was interested in finding out how the real down-and-outers were treated. Were they hustled out of sight? Shuffled around until the bureaucracy could conveniently forget about them?
"Something I can help you with?" Hebert asked as they slowed to a stop at a set of traffic lights. "You look like you have a question or two."
"Yeah. Where are the homeless people?" Ashley gestured out the window. "City this size, there's always a few. But I'm not seeing any. Do you gather them all up and put them out of sight, out of mind to keep your nice tidy little city clean?"
"That's a good question," Hebert said seriously. "You see the induction packet I gave you back at the office? There's a card in there with your name on it. Everyone in Brockton Bay under a certain income level gets one.
I've
got one. Our pay goes onto it, and so do our stimulus payments. There's a couple of thousand on there right now, for incidental expenses. All our previously homeless people are living in cheap, affordable housing, with access to whatever medical care they need. A lot of them are actually working for the Betterment Committee."
"Huh." She dug into the hefty envelope and found the card. Sure enough, it had her name and picture on it. A little sticky note told her what the PIN was, and how to change it. "So, what happens if someone steals one?"
"Atropos gets it back." His tone wasn't even slightly joking. "Or tells us exactly where it is, if she's busy. If it's been destroyed, there'll be another one in your mail slot by the next day. She is
invested
in this project, and the last thing she wants is people walking away from it because they aren't being taken proper care of."
Having someone like Atropos as paymaster, Ashley decided, would go a
long
way toward making sure nobody got fucky with the money between payer and payee. Still, there were questions she needed answering before she actually signed on the dotted line. Before she could settle on the next one, however, Hebert brought the pickup to a halt outside a block of apartments.
"We bought these up and renovated them," he said as he set the parking brake and cut the engine. "Not exactly high-end, but they've got all the creature comforts and they're a good start for getting your own place." Without missing a step, he took out his card—a near-twin to the one she had found in the packet—and tapped a reader next to the door. It buzzed and clicked, allowing Hebert to push it open. "I get an override, because I'm kind of in charge," he explained half-apologetically.
Ashley was immediately suspicious. "Override to what? How far does that let you in?" He hadn't shown any signs of being a skeev, but some could hide it better than others.
His answer was prompt. "Just the lobby, so I can come and knock on someone's door and do a wellness check if they don't show up for work and don't answer their phone." He led the way inside; the lobby was relatively spartan but neat and clean with bland carpet underfoot. Ashley caught the fading smell of fresh paint.
There were stairs, but he hit the button for the elevator and it arrived promptly. Ashley raised her eyebrows. "This thing works?"
"If it doesn't, it'll get fixed." Hebert stepped in, and she followed him. "As I said, we look after our people." He tapped the button for the second floor, and the elevator rumbled upward. It arrived without much in the way of fanfare, and the doors opened smoothly. Ashley noted that the carpet was the same as in the lobby; bland, but fresh and neat. "Now, none of the apartments on this floor are taken yet, so I can do this." He went to the nearest door, which was showing a green light on the reader, and opened it.
Ashley looked the apartment over critically. It wasn't huge, but that wasn't a deal-breaker. Shower cubicle with a washer-dryer next to it. Efficiently designed kitchen and general living area. A separate bedroom (almost filled by a comfortable single bed) with built-in closets, containing pillows and other linens. She'd already discovered the towels in the bathroom cabinet, along with the generic toiletries.
As Atropos had explained to her, it was unimaginative, but it was absolutely liveable. She'd spent far too much of her life in dingy warehouses and abandoned houses; compared to those places, this was the purest lap of luxury.
And
it had a TV.
"Internet?" she asked. Unlike the pokiness of the place, lack of internet would totally be a dealbreaker.
"Free for low-bandwidth stuff, and we're rolling out low-cost wireless for high-bandwidth in this area of town in nine days … I think." Behind his glasses, his eyes went distant for a second. "Yes, nine days."
The question of where she was going to be living had been solved. She'd take it. But now, other questions were queuing up to be asked. "How do I get to where I'll be working?" She doubted she'd be walking, and cabs would eat up her money faster than a slot machine.
"Work bus will show up to take you where you need to go. You'll get an automatic notification twenty minutes before it's due, and a phone call five minutes after that if you don't acknowledge the text message. Roster will be texted to your phone a week ahead of time." The way Hebert was rattling off the answers, he'd clearly given them many times before.
"Who sets the roster? You?" She headed into the kitchenette and tested the hot and cold faucets. They worked, the water ran clear, and the hot water steamed impressively.
"I get directives from above for what we need to get done, and I assign people according to their specifications and qualifications." He spoke crisply, no bullshit, all business. "If you need a day off for personal matters, let us know and we can move things around. If you want more work, same deal. Stay on long-term and you will accumulate leave hours and other benefits, according to the union rules."
"Union rules?" She frowned. "I don't know anything about that." Never having been part of the workforce, she wasn't sure what 'leave hours' were either, but she didn't want to look like an idiot for asking.
"It's not a huge deal." He gestured to himself. "I'm the union rep for the Dockworkers' Association, so I made sure there was a union agreement baked into the plan we're using. It basically assures that everybody gets paid fairly and on time, and that nobody gets screwed over by management decisions. Everyone who works for the Betterment Committee is by definition a member of the union."
"So …" She tried to parse that through. "Some jerkass on the crew can't just fire me and kick me out of the city because he doesn't like my face, or because I used to be a villain?"
"No, they can't." Again, his tone was firm, with no room for misunderstanding. "If anyone has a problem with you, they bring it to me. Likewise, if
you
have a problem with someone,
you
bring it to me. I review all sides of the case, see if there isn't some way the matter can be resolved without anyone being fired, and reach the fairest conclusion for everyone concerned. Either way, you'd be assigned an advocate in the matter, who'd make sure nothing's been left out on your side. And if it turned out that someone was trying to victimise you for their own benefit …" His expression hardened. "That person would very soon have his own problems to deal with."
Ashley thought back to how she'd been driven out of Boston by the machinations of the other villains, undercut and betrayed by people she'd thought she could depend on. She'd had nobody on her side, nobody impartially reviewing the situation. They'd just decided they wanted her out, and thus she was out. This was a whole new, and thoroughly weird, take on the concept.
I can tell this guy's never been a supervillain.
While she was still trying to get her head around it, she thought of something else she wanted to ask. "Where do I buy stuff? Food, clothes, shoes?"
"Ah, that's easy." His attitude had gone back to 'easy-going'. "When you walk out the front door, if you turn left there's a convenience store about three blocks down that sells basically everything you'll need for short notice groceries. It's been expanding recently, so they're getting more and more products in. For more serious shopping, there's a bus stop a block in the other direction, and the bus will take you to a strip mall about a mile away. If you can't find everything you need there, I will be sincerely astonished."
And he already said my card had a couple of grand on it … wait.
"I'm gonna need an ATM, to get cash out to pay for the bus." She doubted the bus driver would be happy to make change for a twenty, and she was
never
in the mood to take crap from people over shitty details like that.
"Nope." He took his card out again, and pointed at a small symbol printed on it. "When you get on and off the bus, you tap the card on the reader that looks like this. It automatically deducts the fare."
"What,
really?" She'd vaguely heard about something like that but had never looked too closely at it. As far as she was concerned, it sounded too much like Tinker bullshit to go anywhere.
"Absolutely. We started rolling it out shortly after we had the cards distributed. Once we get the ferry up and running again, it'll be working on the same system." He sounded quite pleased with himself.
"Okay, so how about—" She was intending to ask what the guidelines for decorating the place were—there was no way she wanted to live someplace with sterile, blank walls for any length of time—when he whipped his phone out of his pocket and put it to his ear. She hadn't even heard it ring.
"Hebert." His expression was rock-solid serious now. "Yes, she's with me now. Yes, I know where that is. We're five minutes away. I'll check." Holding the phone to his chest, he turned to her. "Ms Stillons, I know we haven't signed anything yet, but your assistance is needed. Are you willing to help?"
This was it. This was the decision point. Now was the time when she figured out whether she was going to stay and work for the Betterment Committee or walk out and go her own way.
Her rebellious soul pushed back against being under someone else's thumb, however lightly it pressed.
Nobody tells me what to do!
She'd always been her own boss, been the master of her own destiny, wherever it led.
But …
Her hands had been repaired without any strings attached. She'd been
invited
to Brockton Bay, not ordered. The apartment was all she could've asked for, and more. When she'd asked about the take-home pay, the figure Hebert had quoted was
extremely
adequate. And despite being under pressure, Hebert was
asking, not ordering.
She took a deep breath.
"Yes."
<><>
Danny
The accident had not yet happened.
It was
going
to happen, and soon. Nobody was going to die, not if he could help it, but everything was going to have to go
just
right.
This was a wake-up call to him that his power was neither omniscient nor omnipotent. He saw things that the group effort was about to affect, and he could alter probabilities in minor ways to stave off problems before they happened. Since getting his power, he'd been able to consistently keep things ahead of schedule and below budget, and make sure nobody got hurt.
Today, someone was going to get hurt.
As he drove with white-knuckled intensity, he concentrated part of his mind on the building that the four-man crew was just walking into. Decrepit, shoddily built with low-grade concrete, it had always been slated for demolition. If he hadn't had his power, if he hadn't been interfering right at this second, they'd be walking into a death-trap. As it was, he could adjust their footsteps and hold off the inevitable collapse until all but one were out of harm's way.
No matter how he ran the numbers,
someone
was going to get hurt. The only way out of it was to call them directly, but he didn't have a radio in the truck, an oversight that he intended to amend at the first opportunity. Using his phone to call someone who
had
a radio and patch through the warning that way was potentially possible, but people would still get hurt and his secret would be outed.
He
hated
no-win situations.
Maintaining the truck's performance at the very outer edge of its capabilities, manipulating the inexorable collapse of the building so that nobody was killed and only one was trapped, he drove on.
<><>
Taylor
I flushed the toilet for appearances' sake and unlocked the stall, then went across and washed my hands. Dressed once more in my school-going clothes, my plan was to go and read in the library until the bell rang for class again. Atropos wouldn't be needed until it was time to deal with the quarantine zones, after all.
Just as I pushed the washroom door open and stepped into the corridor, Dad's face popped into my mind. He was under stress, and possibly needed assistance. I paid more attention, and details flowed into my mind: a building collapse that he wasn't quite able to forestall. Someone was going to be trapped.
Got it.
As I strolled casually along toward the library, I took my phone out. Victoria Dallon had never given me her number, but that was no obstacle. I tapped it in anyway, and waited for the response.
"Hello?" Her tone was cautious, but that was only to be expected. I'd never actually called her before, after all.
"Hello, Glory Girl. A building is in the process of collapsing on the corner of Webster and Patterson. One of the work crew that was checking it out will be trapped in the rubble. If you hurry, you'll be able to get there in time to help. Look for Danny Hebert. He'll be the tall guy with the hard hat." I kept my tone calm and even. No pressure, no demands. Just the facts.
When she spoke next, she was all business. "Understood. Webster and Patterson. Tall guy with the hard hat. On it." The call ended.
I put my phone away and continued toward the library. There was nothing else I'd be able to do to help, and I was interested in where the book I'd been reading was going with the narrative.
<><>
Damsel of Distress
Ashley was strongly considering the idea that Hebert had been a professional racing driver in a former lifetime. She wasn't scared—being who and what she was, nothing scared her (apart from Atropos)—but the way he whipped the truck around corners and gunned it through lights just ahead of the red, flashing lights and an atonal siren clearing the way, she was definitely impressed. And he'd
kept
doing it while talking on the phone.
Not with it in his hand, of course; he'd slapped it into a holder on the dash when they tumbled into the pickup, before reaching into the back seat to grab paraphernalia for her. A hard hat, a pair of lightweight protective goggles, a high-vis vest, and a pair of work boots that were (astoundingly enough) of a size to fit even her petite feet. The phone had rung after they'd been on the road for a couple of rather hectic minutes, and he'd said, "Answer call," without taking his eyes off the road.
The person on the other end had babbled about a collapsed building, and Hebert had just said, "I know. I'm on the way with help. Do what you can to keep everything stable."
After that, he'd concentrated on driving, taking side-streets and back-alleys that she'd had no idea even existed before the vehicle dived into them, at speeds that had to be illegal. All she could do was hang on after pulling on the goggles and fitting the hard hat to her head. She had no idea how she looked with them on, but if anyone laughed, she was going to
obliterate
them.
Hebert wasn't laughing. He drove up to a pile of rubble that still had a cloud of dust drifting away from it, and skidded the vehicle to a halt. From the back seat he produced a second hard hat and vest, which he put on as soon as he exited the vehicle. "Vest and boots, please," he said, eyes searching the ruins of the building.
She put them on, if only because he'd said please, and moved on with him. Overhead, a slender figure topped by golden curls dropped out of the sky, swooping close as they began clambering over the rubble. Ashley initially ignored her, noting that the boots did a lot better job of protecting her feet than the sandals would have.
"Atropos called me," the flying girl said. "How can I help?"
"Of course she did," muttered Hebert, then raised his voice. "Thanks for coming, Glory Girl. Get us to the trapped man, then do what I say." He raised his left hand above his head, palm inward. Standing to his left, Ashley figured out what he was doing and raised her right arm in the same way.
A moment later, Glory Girl took hold of both of them at once, fingers like vice grips closing on Ashley's wrist. She grabbed Glory Girl's wrist in turn, which took some of the strain off. Hebert grunted as they were lifted off the ground and carried a few dozen feet over the mound of rubble to where three dust-covered men stood around a dark hole about two feet in diameter.
"Okay, now what?" asked Glory Girl as she let them go. She radiated a strong willingness to help. "Where's the trapped man?"
"Down there," one of the dust-covered men said, pointing into the hole. "Says there's something lying across his back, but he can still move his toes."
"I can lift some of it away," offered Glory Girl. "Clear it so you can pull him out."
"No, that'll cause this stuff up here to cave in before you can get to him." Hebert pointed at the mound of rubble that was overshadowing them all. "Ms Stillons, can you take the top ten feet of that off, please?"
Ashley looked at the heap of broken concrete, and smiled. "I thought you'd never ask." Holding up both hands, palm out, she called on the energy, the anger that had roiled inside her ever since she was forced to leave Boston. It erupted from her hands in a snarling, howling torrent of darkness, destroying the concrete that threatened to fall, concentrating where it didn't evaporate.
Back and forth across the mound she played the twin cones of devastation, bringing the rubble down to a much more manageable height. Then, just because she could, she brought her index finger to her lips and blew imaginary smoke from the tip.
"Excellent." Hebert's tone was no less sincere for being clipped and curt. "Perfect. Glory Girl, lift that slab there out of the way and hold it there. Gentlemen, clear that rubble away from on top of Alexander. Don't try to lift the beam."
As they jumped to obey, Ashley stood watching with interest. This was the sort of teamwork she'd always wanted with her minions. To be the person who knew what call to make and when to make it.
With the slab lifted and the rubble cleared, it became obvious that a heavy beam, one end broken off, was lying across Alexander's back. As far as she was concerned, he was lucky that whatever was under him had given way enough that it hadn't crushed him flat.
"I can cut that beam off, if you want."
As they looked at her, she realised with a shock that she was the one who'd spoken, who'd volunteered to help.
Where did
that
come from?
But Hebert was nodding. "I was just about to ask. If you could, sever it so we can lever it away."
If I can, hah. You ain't seen nothing yet.
She stepped up to Alexander and cupped her left hand around her right fist, with her right index finger pointing out like a gun barrel. Squinting her left eye, she sighted down her finger with her right. All of this was entirely unnecessary; she always knew where her blasts were going. But it looked all kinds of kickass.
Using the narrowest blast she'd ever generated, she sliced through the concrete beam like a laser, only much cooler. It took just a few seconds, then she stepped back and let the big strong men deal with actually getting the cut-off chunk out of the way. Alexander groaned as they tried to move him, and Hebert told them to stop.
"Glory Girl, in the back of my vehicle, there's a back-board. Do you know what one is?" She nodded, and he continued. "Good. Grab that, and the first-aid kit."
"Sure thing." She lofted into the air and zoomed out of sight.
"That was very well done," Hebert said to Ashley. "I can see you're extremely versatile. So, have you made up your mind as to whether you'll take the job or not?"
"Say yes," croaked the guy called Alexander. "You're badass as hell."
She smiled, soaking up the praise. It was only her due, of course.
"Yeah," she said. "I think I will."
Relevant Side Story
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N 1: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.][A/N 2: This one just kept growing and growing, and there was no good place to split it up, so you have a monster sized chapter this time. Woo!]
Relevant Side StoryRelevant Side StoryRelevant Side StoryThree Supervillains"It's unfair, that's what it is!""I know it is, Gina, but what are we going to do about it? She kills anyone who comes after her.""She won't kill me, Bethany.""That's right, she won't kill Ryan! She can't! Nobody can!""Okay, fine, but how are we going to get to where she is?""I know the four places she'll be around midnight tonight. The quarantine sites.""Ooh, good thinking, Ryan!""Yeah, but which one do we go to, Gina?""Gary. It's closest, and my mom will drive us.""And what do we do when she shows up? She
shoots
people.""We don't attack her. We distract her, and Ryan takes her down.""I can do that.""If you're sure about that …""Well, how
else
am I supposed to get back into the top ratings if we don't put her out of the running? She's been hogging them for the last two months!""I guess …"
<><>
Glory Girl"Nearly home."Vicky spoke loudly enough for Amy to hear her through the headphones she was wearing. It used to be that Amy would enjoy flying almost as much as Vicky did, but these days, she seemed to prefer putting music on and just chilling with her eyes closed for the duration of the flight. In fact, she was overall a lot more relaxed and happier than she had been for … well, years.While Vicky tried not to think about it specifically, this change in her sister's attitude seemed to line up altogether too close to their first, disastrous encounter with Atropos. She was
almost
sure it was a coincidence … but she'd seen far too much of how Atropos operated to assume anything at all was a coincidence around her. Amy had also been sneaking out to meet Atropos (or being picked up by her; Vicky wasn't clear on that bit) which was the weirdest bit. Amy claimed to dislike Atropos, and she normally couldn't lie to save her life … so why was she
happier
now?Not that Vicky could really claim to be any more consistent. She'd actively lobbied to go off on the last escapade with Atropos and Amy, and had been surprised at the amount of disappointment she felt when she was denied the chance. And then, when Atropos had called her during lunch break, she hadn't even hesitated to fly off and be the hero of the hour.Not that she'd been able to hang around long after getting the back-board up to the injured guy. Mr Hebert, the tall guy, had been talking to the young woman with blaster powers, Ms Stillons, about smoothing out a track to get them back down to ground level, so she wasn't even really needed for that. As it was, she'd only just got back to Arcadia in time for class.As she let Amy down on her feet, her sister gave her a smile. "Thanks. Just gonna go check on Smaug. Make sure he didn't get lonely without me.""He's a
lizard, Ames. He probably slept all day." But Amy was already gone, dashing into the house.Vicky sighed and rolled her eyes. Sometimes, it seemed that Amy spent more time talking to the bearded dragon (who
was
admittedly kinda cute) than to the rest of her family. Still, if having a pet was what had given her a new lease on happiness, as opposed to her occasional association with Atropos, Vicky was all for that. Ames had saved too many people to count from various medical afflictions; she deserved a little happiness of her own.She went inside and waved to her father on the way through to the kitchen. He waved back, then returned to watching TV. The flight home had given her a case of dry-mouth, so she poured herself a glass of juice then came back out to the living room. "What are you watching?""Game show." He snorted. "They're asking cape questions, and half the official answers are wrong.""Why does that not surprise me?" Vicky sat down to watch. As she drank the juice, she thought over the decision she'd made and wondered how badly it would impact him.
Even though he's the one who put the idea into my head.Amy came downstairs after a little while to grab some cookies, then went back up. Mark found a news channel and started watching that instead. Vicky put her glass in the sink, then got her homework out and started doing it.Carol arrived home a little after five, the car easing into the garage and the door rumbling down. Vicky was nearly done with her homework, but now she couldn't focus anymore. She'd keyed herself up for this moment for so long that all she could think of was the words she needed to say.Leaving the open books on the table, she headed upstairs as the connecting door from the garage opened. Mark greeted Carol, but all Vicky heard was the rumble of his voice, no words. Heading along to Amy's door, she knocked on it. "Hey, Ames. You busy?""Not really." She heard footsteps on carpet, then the door opened. "Why? What's up?""Come downstairs for a second?" Vicky grimaced. The moment was accelerating closer and closer like a runaway freight train, and the impact was likely to be considerable. "There's something I want to say to everyone, and I think you need to be there. That way you won't be left out of the loop when Mom starts yelling at me.""What? Why?" Amy blinked. "What's going on, Vicky? We don't have any secrets, remember?" She paused, too late. "Uh—"Vicky raised her eyebrows. "Right. Like sneaking out with Atropos. Listen, I want to catch Mom before she locks herself in her study. Please come down now?"Amy had gone pink at the reminder of her indiscretion, and now she nodded. "Okay, fine. You twisted my arm." She stepped out of her room and closed the door behind her. "Let's go see what revelation you have for the maternal unit." She tilted her head sideways, peering at Vicky. "You're not gay." It wasn't a question."No. And don't pry." Vicky led the way downstairs. "Uh, Mom?"She'd gotten to the bottom of the stairs just in time; Carol turned back from the corridor leading to her study. "Yes, Victoria? Is this important?""I think it is." Vicky braced herself. "Mom, Dad, Amy, I have an announcement to make. Can we turn the TV off for a second, please?"Mark frowned mildly, but did as he was asked; the TV went dark. "What is it, Vicky?""I …" Vicky took a deep breath. "I want to start working after school for the Betterment Committee." That wasn't all she intended to say, but it was a good beginning."What?" Carol blinked. "That … well, that'll cut into your patrol times, but we can manage it, certainly. Why the big fuss over it?""Because that's not all I want to do."
In for a penny, in for a pound.
"I'll be turning eighteen this year. When I finish school—" As it was, there were only three months left in the school year. "—I want to either go full-time into working for them, or if I've decided that's not for me, I want to leave Brockton Bay and go to Boston or New York and join the Wards or Protectorate there. Where I can actually make a
difference."Stunned silence reigned within the house for the exact amount of time it took Carol Dallon to draw in an outraged breath. "What?"For his part, Mark looked at Vicky, then evidently recalled the conversation they'd had where he'd suggested doing this exact thing. She didn't know now whether he'd been just trying to cheer her up, or even if he'd thought she would never go through with it, but he didn't seem to have anything to say about it. When Carol looked at him for support, he just shrugged as if to say,
I got nothing.Carol tried again. "You can't do that! You're part of New Wave!" Vicky got the impression that to her, this was an unimpeachable argument. New Wave was the beginning and end of it."I can and I will." Vicky had been willing to entertain logical arguments, but 'you can't' was just plain denial."You're a minor!""I'll be eighteen!""I forbid it!"Vicky felt her temper rising, but she stopped before she could say something she would later look back on and cringe. Holding up her hands, she breathed in and out a couple of times until she felt in control again. "Mom, you can't 'forbid' me from doing something like that. I'm not five anymore."The look of betrayal in Carol's eyes cut her to the quick. "Victoria, you're still my child, living under my roof.""I could move out." It was more of a rebuttal than a threat."Where would you go?" It wasn't quite a 'gotcha', but from the look in her eyes, Carol hoped it was.Unexpectedly, Amy fielded that one. "The, uh, Betterment Committee has cheap accommodation for its workers." She folded her arms and looked away as everyone stared at her."And you would know that …
why?" asked Vicky."That's what I heard, anyway," Amy mumbled.Hmm. Exactly
what
have you been talking to Atropos about?
"And that's where I'll go." Vicky squared her shoulders, grateful for the out. "But I'm not doing it
now.
I just wanted to tell you what my plans were."Carol took the opportunity to also regain her poise. "Victoria, what's brought this on? Why do you want to leave the team?"A question that wasn't an accusation in disguise, she could answer. "I talked about this with Dad a while ago. I feel like I'm just spinning my wheels here, yelling at jaywalkers. Without the gangs as an issue, the cops are actually able to keep on top of crime a lot easier. Pretty soon, we'll be calling dibs on
muggers. I want to do something where my powers can make a difference, like working for the Betterment Committee here or fighting crime in one of those cities where they've still
got
supervillains." The last four words sounded so weird to say, but she said them anyway.Carol turned her attention to Mark. "You advised her to do this?"
Why?
her tone seemed to ask.Mark stood up so he didn't have to keep twisting his neck around to participate. "She was drowning her sorrows in ice-cream, and I gave her a little pep-talk about growing up and moving on, maybe updating her image. I didn't think she was totally serious about going to another city then, but to be honest, I can see her point. When was the last time we even heard a gunshot, out on patrol?""But …" Carol seemed to be at a loss now. "What about Dean? I thought you were going to … well, you make a very nice couple, is what I'm saying."Vicky shook her head. "I broke up with Dean. He wasn't honest with me about some stuff, and we're through." It was more than that, but she didn't want to bring that up here. Finding out that Dean had had his powers
given
to him by drinking a vial from the semi-mythical Cauldron had been bad enough, but he'd once
lied
to her about it, described a fake trigger event. She needed to move on from him, and being in the same city didn't help.Carol didn't argue about that, but she did switch back to her main point. "This is our
team.
We've put our
lives
into it. We've shed
blood
for it. How can you just walk away from it now?"Vicky debated whether to tell her that New Wave had been based on a failed premise from the beginning. In her own head, it sounded cruel, but was it worth it, to pull the Band-aid off quickly? Or would Carol take it as another betrayal?Amy raised her hand. "Um … maybe this isn't the best time for this, but I'm thinking about stepping back from the team. From being a hero.""What?"
And there's the other shoe. I
wondered
where that came from."What?" This one did seem to take Mark aback."What?" Carol's reaction was the most dramatic, possibly because of the one-two punch. "How can you stop being a
hero? I was okay with you having a girlfriend in the Rogues, but now
this? I thought we were getting better. We
were
getting better!""We're totally getting better, but …" Amy hesitated. "I want to go rogue. I want to do more with my powers than just heal people." She grimaced, as though she knew the next bit would not get a great reaction. "And, you know, maybe get paid for it?""Do
more?" Mark sounded puzzled. "You're a healer. That's what you
do.""Paid?" Carol was a little slower off the mark, possibly because she had stalled on that word. It was one thing to get money for team sponsorships, Vicky mused now that the heat was off her, but quite another to be paid simply for using one's powers. "Why do you want to get
paid?""Because that's what happens when normal people use their skills to help others," Amy retorted, showing more gumption than Vicky had seen her using in quite some time. "And if I'm not lining up with the rest of the team as Panacea, then I'm going to need
some
kind of income." She paused for a moment then added, "Also, I'm not just a healer. I never have been.""So, what do you want to do with your powers that you haven't been doing before?" Vicky was honestly curious. She knew about Amy's ability to reverse ageing, but that was basically healing the damage done by time … wasn't it?Amy ticked off points on her fingers. "Custom houseplants, like fluorescent roses. Rainbow poodles. Cosmetic surgery. Turning off the genetic propensity for weight gain, or turning it
on
for people who want to gain weight. Instant-growing trees for the Betterment Committee."From the way they were staring at her, she may as well have grown a second head and started declaiming the Necronomicon in Klingon. Vicky wasn't sure about her parents, but she'd had no
idea
what was coming when Amy started speaking. "… and you've always been able to do all that?""Sure." Amy held her hands out, palm up. "Healing is the tiniest fraction of what I can do. Fixing an organism back to its original template? That's
easy. And
boring.
Imagine if da Vinci had only been allowed to do charcoal sketches of fruit baskets on three-by-five cards, his entire life. That's me. That's what I've been doing."Mark frowned. "So … when you said you couldn't do brains …?" His voice held a mixture of doubt and hope."I said that because I don't
want
to do brains." Amy's voice was firm. "There's so much interconnected stuff going on there. Memories and skills and thoughts and attitudes and likes and dislikes and …
everything.
I could totally do stuff, but I
don't.
There's the privacy issue, for one thing. And then there's the chance that I do something for someone, and they decide to sue me because they say I did it
wrong. How can I prove I didn't? One of the things you always taught me was that you can't prove a negative. Broken arm? Any doctor can prove in thirty seconds it's not broken anymore. Coffee now tastes like week-old urine? I can't disprove that kind of allegation."Carol frowned and pulled out her phone. "I'm calling Sarah. We need to get the whole family in on this." She pointed at Vicky. "And don't think for a moment that
you're
off the hook, young lady.""Wait a moment." Mark raised his hand. "Carol, maybe we need to step back a little on this, and take a breath before we say or do something we might regret later.""What do you mean?" Carol tilted her head. "Don't tell me you're on
their
side in all this?""I'm saying there doesn't
need
to be an us-and-them side. Carol, honey,
look
at them." Mark gestured toward Vicky and Amy. "We've raised two wonderful girls, but they're almost adults now. Vicky's always been headstrong, and Amy seems to have picked it up along the way. If we push back now, all we're going to achieve is to shove them further away from us. What I'm saying is, maybe it's time to think about compromise?""Compromise." Carol said it like a dirty word, but she wasn't bristling as much anymore. Her lips compressed as she looked at Vicky and Amy, then she drew in air through her nostrils. "Okay. Let's sit down and talk this through one step at a time. Come on."Vicky glanced at Amy as they all sat down in the living room. Neither one spoke, though Amy raised her eyebrows hopefully. Vicky wasn't that optimistic, but she was willing to see where the chips fell.
<><>
2330 Eastern Standard TimeCharlotteDressed in her Atropos costume, Charlotte eased out through the back door and let it close behind her. Heart thumping along at about seventeen beats a second, she pulled it carefully until the latch engaged with a
click
that sounded almost as loud as a gunshot in the quiet night air. Freezing in place, she waited for any noises from inside or lights coming on, but nothing happened.Letting out a long breath, she stepped down from the porch then froze again as part of the darkness moved toward her. Her heart rate momentarily tripled, then steadied down again as she made out the faint white triangle of Atropos' shirt front, bisected by the tie. Not for the first time, she wondered if she was really cut out for what she'd signed up to do."Hi," murmured the shadowy killer. Unlike Charlotte, she seemed entirely at home in the darkness. "Are you ready for this? Remember the script?""Y-yes," whispered Charlotte. The folded piece of paper had mysteriously ended up in her backpack, and she'd spent the afternoon and evening memorising what it said, re-reading it at every opportunity until the words floated in her mind's eye."Good." A hand closed over her shoulder. "Turn to your left and walk forward."Obeying Atropos' voice and the urging of her hand, Charlotte turned to her left and walked forward. Between one step and the next, everything changed; the night noises, the light level, even the ambient temperature. She was standing on a rooftop, vaguely illuminated by lights from below, of which there seemed to be more than a few."Wh-where are we?" she asked."The outskirts of Gallup, New Mexico." Atropos' voice was steady and reassuring. The hand lifted off her shoulder and pointed over an area where a bunch of buildings seemed to have been demolished. "The quarantine site is that way. Go toward the biggest bunch of PRT vans you can see.""And what do I do when I get there?" Charlotte was starting to get nervous all over again."Get to the front lines of the PRT. Don't push or shove, just say, 'coming through'. They'll step aside for you. Go to where the lights and cameras are. Step into view at twenty minutes to midnight, which is twenty to ten where we are right now. Quote the script. Once everything starts moving, do that flourish you've been practicing with the shears, then step into the portal."Charlotte felt weak in the knees. She'd gotten her hands on a genuine pair of bodice shears, and she'd been practicing a flourish with them every chance she got. But to find out that not only did Atropos know about it, but she also approved …
wow."Uh … what portal?" she belatedly asked."There'll be a portal." Atropos gestured. "Fire escape's that way. Time's a-ticking.""Right, right." Charlotte headed in that direction, eyes searching the darkness for the ladder. Pausing, she looked back over her shoulder. "How are you going to do the other three zones if I'm doing this one?"Atropos' form was just a silhouette against the faintly illuminated sky. "Pastor was going to hold out to the last minute, but he lost his nerve two hours ago. Released his hold over the people in Freedom, then speed-walked out of his zone before they came all the way to their senses. Submitted to arrest and let them slap the cuffs on. The PRT has people checking his victims out. I can handle the other two pretty easily.""Oh." Charlotte took one more step, then found the top of the fire escape. "Okay, I'm heading down now."There was no answer; she glanced back again, and saw nobody on the rooftop.Well, shit. I'm definitely on my own now.By the time she got to the bottom, her eyes had adjusted to the darkness and she picked her way across the cleared ground toward where the PRT vehicles were clustered around what she figured was the main entrance to the Gallup quarantine zone.Atropos, she figured, didn't run. She was always right where she needed to be, at the correct time. So she moved forward at a steady, deliberate pace. No rush, no fluster.Twice she encountered troopers moving around in a steady, purposeful manner. Each time, when they saw her, she gave them a nod of respect and kept going. The troopers just stood and watched her go by. Nobody tried to stop her.When she got closer to where the lights were, she saw it was a temporary stage set up between two PRT vans. They looked like they had a good view of the main entrance, and there were cameras trained on the men up on the stage. One looked like a politician, and the other was a PRT officer in full armour, but holding his helmet under his arm. As far as she could tell, they were conducting a TV interview while they were waiting for Atropos.Or, you know, her representative.Palming her phone out of her pocket, she checked the time then dropped it back in. She had thirty seconds to be in place, so she moved forward. There were troopers guarding the steps leading up to the stage, and one stepped in her way. "I can't let you … uhh …" He hesitated when he saw who she was pretending to be."Coming through, trooper." She tried to sound uncompromising, the way Atropos would be in this situation."Uh, yes, ma'am." He stepped back out of the way."Thank you." She climbed the steps onto the stage, trying not to let her knees shake.Lights bathed her. Both the politician and the PRT officer turned to see who had intruded, and fell silent. Ahead of her, on the other side of the barricades, massive floodlights illuminated the capes inside the Gallup quarantine zone. They'd taken over a seven square mile area south of I-40 and turned it into their own personal fiefdom, but now she got the impression they were a lot less sure about their position.Ignoring the two men, she stepped up to the microphone. The script that she'd read and re-read compulsively came back to her.
Switch microphone to public address.
There was a switch with a setting marked PA, so she clicked it that way.Let them sweat for a moment.
She could do that.When you talk, do it slowly and steadily. Don't rush. Don't try to be menacing. You're explaining the facts of life to them. To you, it's no big deal."About twenty-four hours ago, you were warned that I was coming here," she said. "You were given the choice to either evacuate, surrender or die."Her words rolled out over the quarantine zone. Not a voice raised in protest. Even the night insects were quiet."The way I see it, right now you're being given the option to surrender or die. No way to just leave. Well, let's fix that." She turned to the PRT officer. "Have your men stand down. Open a corridor through the PRT lines. If any of them want to leave, let them.""I can't do
that!" he protested. "Those are dangerous villains! I …"Don't argue. Don't push back. Just look at him."I … um … very well." He took a radio and spoke into it, giving orders."This can't be what the Chief Director wanted," the politician said, sounding worried.Be matter of fact.
"She asked me to clear the zone. Didn't specify how. This is the most efficient way."That's the carrot. Now the stick.
She turned back to the microphone. "As you can see, a way is being cleared for you to just leave, but there is a catch! As of right now, you are all on your second warnings. Submit to arrest, and you're fine. You may choose to leave, but if you deliberately commit even
one
felony from this moment on, I
will
know about it, I
will
know who you are, and I
will
murder you in a gruesome yet ironically amusing fashion. Same goes for if you choose to stay inside the zone."Pause to let that sink in."So, if you
think
you can manage to go straight, feel free to head for the tall timber. Otherwise, I'd suggest you come and have a heart-to-heart with these friendly PRT troopers here instead. I'm sure they've got some nice comfortable jail cells all warmed up for you."As she stepped back from the microphone, she could see the look of comprehension on the PRT officer's face. Some would almost certainly choose to walk, but the vast majority would peacefully surrender to the troopers amassed for the occasion. "Go ahead and open the gates."Orders were given, and the gates rolled aside. The capes inside, few if any in recognisable costumes, started forward into the wide laneway that had been cleared for them, that led all the way out past the PRT troopers. Charlotte wondered which ones were going to make a run for it, and which would surrender.The wave parted, going to the left and right. She saw men and women putting their hands up and approaching the PRT officers. Others, seeing the way the trend was going, did the same."God damn," the officer said, shaking his head. "I had no idea what you were doing, but … no, this works. This really works.""Give my regards to the Chief Director." Charlotte took her shears out and performed the flourish she'd worked so hard at perfecting. "Toodles." Right on schedule, the portal opened before her, and she stepped into it.As it closed behind her, she looked around to see her bedroom, the night-light glowing gently in the wall plug. The shears slid from her fingers and bounced off the floor. Staggering to the bed, she sat down heavily on the mattress. "Oh, my God. I did it." Slightly unhinged laughter bubbled up from her throat. "I did it. They really thought I was Atropos. Hoooooly shit."Reaching up with shaking hands, she loosened the tie and pulled it off, then started on the rest of the costume. She had to take three stabs at it before she finally got it undone, then she got up and removed the whole thing. It felt like forever before she had it folded and stored away at the back of her closet, not helped by the occasional fit of near-hysterical giggles.She took even longer to get to sleep.I wonder how Atropos did with the other two zones …
<><>
AtroposI'd always known that Gallup would be the 'safe' zone. All I had to do was get Charlotte there, have her say her lines, and teleport her home. Just the effect of 'my' presence, and the speech she gave, would promote the effect that I needed. Having the teleporter project its starting
and
ending points at some distance from the actual unit wasn't something I wanted to do very often, mainly because it took somewhat longer to allow even a short jump afterward, but there were factors involved that wouldn't allow me to pull it off in any other way.Allowing my power to time my movements precisely to hers, so that anyone watching the footage side by side would have trouble determining who was in which location, I walked onto the raised platform that had been set up a little distance from the main entrance to the Gary quarantine zone. Director Hearthrow of the Chicago PRT was talking in low tones to the officer nominally in charge of the area, as well as a tall rangy PRT officer whom my power identified as James Tagg. They all turned to look at me as I showed up.I knew damn well that the capes inside the Gary zone were watching to see what the hell was going on. All the troops on the outside were on high alert, full armour, heavily armed. If I went in there and started killing, there would be a concerted effort at a breakout, and PRT personnel
would
die.I preferred my way. Better optics. Also, the only enemy I was going to face
wasn't
going to come from inside.Stepping past the three men, I raised the bullhorn I'd had slung over my shoulder the whole time. My power mimicked Charlotte's tone of voice, as well as the exact words she was using, all the way down to the microsecond pauses. When the PRT ran them side by side (and they would), they wouldn't be able to tell the difference. "About twenty-four hours ago, you were warned that I was coming here …"When I gave the order to open a lane, I directed it to the officer in charge. He glanced at Hearthrow, who looked like a deer frozen in the headlights, then at Tagg. Tagg nodded once, briefly. "Do it." Then he turned to me. "Interesting strategy. Did the Chief Director okay it?" The tone of his voice said quite clearly
this isn't how I'd do it, but I'm willing to watch and learn."She asked me to clear the zone," I said. "Didn't specify how. This is the most efficient way." We both knew who 'she' was. I raised the bullhorn again. "As you can see, a way is being cleared for you to just leave …"As I clarified, I saw the smile spread across his face. He'd gambled, and it had paid off. Those villains who didn't hand themselves into PRT custody would be
my
responsibility, and God have mercy on their souls. I knew this, because I could hear him explaining it to Hearthrow and the officer in a low tone while I spoke.Stepping back, I gave the order for the gates to be opened. Many would've snuck out in the last twenty-four hours, and they'd be exempt from my two-strikes rule, but those who came out now knew damn well that they were living under
my
sufferance. The few who took the route to freedom would do their utmost to go straight, I knew that much.It was almost time for the next act in this little play. I slung the bullhorn as I watched the capes emerge and make the decision whether to try for freedom or settle for incarceration. Time ticked down and I pulled out my shears. The flourish was apparently based on what I'd done now and again on camera, and it wasn't too bad; again, I performed it exactly in time with Charlotte."No!" The word rang out behind me, high-pitched with anger and the fact that it was coming from a child's throat. At the same time, two explosions knocked the few PRT troopers behind us sprawling.I turned, concealing the fact that I'd just slipped a tiny tub of Riley's preparation out of my pocket and dosed the tip of the shears with it. Still idly twirling them, the tub back in my pocket, I took stock of the three kids who'd just shown up. "Oh, hey," I said. "Shouldn't you three be in bed? School night and all.""Fuck school and fuck you!" Bambina stomped the ground and kicked off with an explosion. She wasn't heading for me, but for Tagg, who'd started to pull a pistol. The explosion she created when she landed sent all three men sprawling; the pistol skittered across the ground."Careful," I said mildly. "You could hurt someone, doing that.""Bambina and me aren't here to hurt you," Starlet said, tossing a few of her explosive darts, knocking more men over. "That's August Prince's job."The kid in question, serious looking with a widow's peak, stalked toward me, carrying a mace. "You made Bambina look bad. So, I'm gonna make
you
look bad."I sighed and addressed everyone who was capable of listening. "See, this is the problem with kid supervillains. Nobody wants to fight them, because if you win you've beaten up on a kid, and if you lose, you just lost to a kid. They get overconfident.""Shut up!" yelled Bambina.Starlet tossed a dart my way. It wasn't going to come close enough to do more than knock me sprawling, but I wasn't playing that game. Drawing my pistol, I shot it out of the air, causing a premature explosion that made her stagger backward."You want to know why I haven't given you any warnings yet?" I asked. August Prince swung the mace. I swayed out of the way. "Because you're no threat. I'm not going to kill you. I'm not even going to hurt you." He swung again; while he was still recovering, I got my phone out and took a selfie with him."Shut up and lose already!" Bambina had been bouncing around the perimeter, raising explosions, and now she came for me. She couldn't hit close enough to August Prince to harm him, but she wanted to ragdoll me into the air, so I'd be vulnerable when I came down.I wasn't playing that game, either. When August Prince's next swing came past, I let my power take the reins and pluck the mace out of his hand. The same movement allowed my shears to open a shallow cut on his hand. Then I threw the mace hard at Bambina, catching her in the solar plexus; she went down in a coughing, gasping heap. "Well, much, anyway," I added.Starlet went to throw another dart and I shot that one out of the air too, close enough to smash her to the ground with her own explosion. I took two long strides to get to Bambina, got a selfie with her, then sliced her hand with the shears while I was grabbing the mace. Behind me, August Prince pulled his pistol and aimed at my back, but I threw the mace without looking, clobbering him in the face.Starlet was just struggling to her feet when I reached her. I kicked her legs out from under her, took a selfie, then nicked her hand with the shears. Then I put my phone away and picked her up by the front of her costume, dragging her over to where the other two were."Of course," I announced, "what I just said about not wanting to fight kids doesn't apply to me. I don't fight. I
end
fights. And powers." Raising a hand, I gestured to the PRT troopers, who were just now getting themselves back into order. "All yours, now."My teleporter still had a few minutes to go before it would be ready to take me anywhere, so I sheathed my shears, put my hands in my pockets and pretended to chill while the PRT troopers took the three little shitheads into custody.Bambina was the first to try to use her power to escape, and the shocked look on her face was worth the entire fight. "My powers! What've you done with my powers?""You attacked me while
knowing
I kill powers." I shrugged. "Sounds like consent to be depowered to me. What do you think, Tagg? Same?"Dusting himself off and setting his cap on straight, he stepped up alongside me. I noted that his pistol was back in its holster. "I think these little delinquents deserve whatever punishment you chose to deal to them. When you get to the point where the opposition has thrown all civilised rules out the window, the only winning move can be to reply in kind.""That's basically been my business model from the start, yeah. Though I'm curious as to what you think about the way I've been doing things. When you get too well known as the person who kills assholes really, really effectively, it's hard to get honest feedback."He chuckled briefly, harshly. "I hear what you're saying. I got a lot of flak from the way I dealt with the Lausanne Simurgh victims. Still do, occasionally."I shrugged briefly. "You gotta do what you gotta do. I killed one of Heartbreaker's kids before the man himself came to town and I was able to End his influence over them. The other one surrendered, so he got to live. They don't always surrender. That's a fact of life.""I've studied your case." It wasn't an admission or even a confession, just a matter-of-fact statement. "You don't go after innocents, and you give the guilty a chance to not die.""Not always." I wasn't feeling guilty about this, because why should I? However, I did want his input. "I didn't give Oni Lee a warning. And I didn't tell the Nine not to come to town. I just killed them when they did."This time, his chuckle was warmer. "I don't know a single person who wouldn't have done exactly what you did with the Nine, if they had the capability. As for Oni Lee, I didn't have personal experience with him, but all the reports say he was a problematic individual. If you were going to kill anyone to make a point, he would be as good as any." He frowned. "Actually, I do have one question."I knew what was coming, but I nodded anyway. "Shoot.""You mentioned Heartbreaker's children. On the PHO boards, you said there were four of his children he was never getting back. From questioning the remaining members of his little clan, we got four names. Jean-Paul, cape name Hijack, who ended up in the Undersiders as Regent, then joined the Red Hands after he fled Brockton Bay. Nicholas, no cape name, who died when you cut his throat. Guillaume, also no cape name, who surrendered to the PRT at your behest. And Cherie, cape name Cherish, whom Guillaume last saw in your company. Would you be able to give me any idea of her whereabouts, or if she's even still alive?""She's alive and well, and not committing crimes," I told him truthfully but unhelpfully. "I've placed her with a good parental role model. I honestly don't think the PRT coming in right now would help her to any significant degree.""And if she happens to want to see her siblings at some point?" He wasn't pressuring me, just testing the waters."She hasn't expressed that particular wish yet, but she'll tell me if she does. You'll notice that those kids didn't really like each other that much, mainly because their father used to set them against each other. I'm not going to force her to do something she doesn't want to do." I raised my head. "Time I moved along. I've still got Flint to deal with."He nodded to acknowledge this. "Good luck. I doubt you'll get the capes there to cooperate like you did here.""I know I won't. Toodles." With the teleporter finally on deck again, the portal formed and I stepped on through.It was eleven minutes to the hour when I arrived. There was no lit-up stage, no politicians looking to get face time to scrounge a few more votes. Just PRT officers and troopers, all in armour. I saw a few tracked armoured vehicles that looked like they might have been borrowed from the local National Guard; unsurprising, because I also saw National Guard personnel nearby."Gentlemen," I announced, heading toward where the commanding officers of the various contingents were conversing among themselves. "I understand there's a hitch."They turned toward me. Helmets were on but visors had been opened, so I saw their expressions. These ranged from worry to resignation. The local PRT commander stepped forward. "Yes. We've detected a number of overlapping teleport interdiction zones within the city. Once you get inside, you'll have to proceed on foot. At some point, you'll be inevitably dogpiled by their strongest capes."I nodded. "I figured they'd try something like this. You get that many capes in one city, there's bound to be a few Tinkers among them." I unslung the bullhorn and put it on the ground; even if anyone examined it, all they'd get was that it had once been the property of the Dockworkers' Association. "May I borrow a rifle? Plus a spare magazine, if that's not too much trouble."They looked at me incredulously, but the National Guard commander turned and gestured. One of his men double-timed over, and handed me an assault rifle. The extra magazine, I slipped into a pocket. I nodded to the soldier, and he stepped back out of the way.As I was checking the rifle over, the PRT commander spoke up. "I have to ask. What do you think you can do with a rifle and sixty rounds, plus whatever else you're carrying? There are literally
thousands
of capes in there.""At least a dozen of which are listening in on us right now." Not counting the three who were trying to read my mind and getting nosebleeds for their trouble, but I didn't bother mentioning that part. "I've got nine and a half minutes. I'm just going to End the problem with the best weapon at hand. Me."Raising my hand, I snapped my fingers. The teleporter jumped me to the nearest observation post on top of the wall; I ignored the guard's startled response, and raised the rifle. I wasn't aiming at any of the capes that were massing here and there, but at a tiny emitter, several hundred yards away. I fired; the antenna was severed, and one of the interdiction fields went down. Half a second later, the teleporter jumped me a hundred yards into Flint.23:51:03I appeared right behind a cape who appeared to have been watching my part of the wall with binoculars. Before he could react, I stabbed him with the shears. If he'd been a normal trigger, the remainder of the paste on the blades would've reverted him, but things didn't work that way in Flint. But that was okay; the shears went right through his neck and out the other side, and I sliced his windpipe and jugular on the way out.Flicking the blood off the blades, I sprinted for the other end of the roof, just ahead of a crackle of green lightning that hit the unfortunate sentry and fried his section of rooftop. He was as good as dead anyway; this just sped things up a little. The green lightning guy realised I was out of his kill-zone at the same time as another one who apparently had a laser Blaster ability.A huge trench was carved in the roof as they both swung their attacks toward me. I drew my pistol and fired once, killing the laser guy. He dropped out of the sky, spoiling the lightning thrower's aim for just long enough. As he reacquired his aim, the PRT sentry I'd appeared beside figured out what was going on, and hammered three shots into him, taking him out of the picture. I would've shot him myself, but his lightning aura made him almost impervious to low-calibre bullets, and I needed all the rifle ammo that I had.As I reached the end of the roof, I leaped outward, as though I'd be able to cross the twenty yards of distance to the next building in a single jump. Instead, at about the same time as my arc started curving downward (and well after I passed into the next teleport interdiction field) I fired the rifle three times, knocking out the emitters as they came into view. The teleporter kicked in, bypassing two rooftops and dropping me into an alleyway between two buildings.23:51:14There were Thinkers in the horde of capes that were targeting me that could detect me by my exhaled breath and the rustle of cloth on my back. A few were trying to detect my power use and my power stopped those dead, but I couldn't go undetected by all. While the next emitters would be a bit harder to reach, I was getting closer.I used up half the magazine in my pistol as I came out of the alleyway; not on the capes with offensive powers, but on the ones who were hanging back, vectoring their buddies in on my location. They fell, blood and brains spraying over the ruined asphalt, and I kept running … straight for the combat capes. Each wore a tiny pouch on a chain or a thong around his or her neck. They hesitated for a vital half-second, then unleashed their powers at me.At where I'd been, rather. I went down in a roll, under a torrent of flame and a buzzsaw of sparking metal shards, then came up between them, grabbing their gruesome power-granting talismans and yanking them free. Holding them in the air, I flourished them while I kept going straight ahead. Behind me, I heard the ones I'd taken the power-granting fragments away from screaming at the others not to shoot,
they might hit the bits.
That was about the time the fight broke out.The whole problem with Flint had started when someone triggered with the ability to bestow powers to anyone just by staying in their vicinity for a while. His second biggest mistake was to form a gang, bestowing powers on his underlings. The biggest mistake? Turning his back on one of his lieutenants, who'd decided that they wanted to be in charge, so they took him down and started cutting him open to see what made him tick.As it turned out, with appropriate Tinker tech to keep him alive, all the parts they carved off him contained his power. Between willing volunteers (who were given bits and pieces) and forced inductees (who were made to
eat
small pieces) a large percentage of the population of Flint became capes, all part of the original gang. This didn't last long, as several of the underlings decided to split off on their own, and they couldn't be depowered except by force. By the time the Chief Director called me in on it, the quarantine zone contained several gangs, usually vicious rivals, but for me … they'd make an exception.I tossed the pieces aside as I entered the alley across the street, and started up the closest fire escape. My self-appointed timer was ticking down, and I needed to be on the roof before the next flier came over. The closer I got to the original power granter, the more emitters there would be, and the harder it would be to target them. My only real advantages were that I'd gotten past their initial perimeter, and that they didn't have many capes left who could track my location.Coming out on the rooftop, I immediately started scrambling up the water tower. Fliers were inbound, but while they knew I was in the vicinity, they weren't certain
where.
They'd know in a few seconds, but that was okay. Going loud was an unavoidable part of this particular mission.When I reached the top, I unslung the rifle and started firing. The last time, I'd dealt with three emitters. Now I had fifteen more in my sights, some more than two miles away. I fired as fast as I could, working with the cyclic rate of the assault rifle, killing the overlapping fields. When the last one fell, a great arc of the interdiction field was gone, except for the middle.Where my target was.I teleported forward again, vanishing as a chunk of what looked like lava-coated granite homed in on me from the side. A hundred yards behind me, the water tower detonated.23:53:17I appeared on a highway overpass. Chunks had been blown out of the side of it, possibly from a turf battle. Keeping low, I moved on, not wanting to waste more ammunition than I had to. The building I was aiming at was still more than a mile away, and I could only teleport every ten seconds.The timer ticked over.23:53:27I was immediately closer, running through what appeared to be an overgrown park.23:53:37Moving through an abandoned industrial facility. No angle to snipe any more emitters.23:53:4723:53:5723:54:0823:54:18The locations began to blur together. I was fit, but my breath was rasping in my lungs. When I caught glimpses of my target, it didn't look any closer than before. Sometimes it felt like I was running forever through darkness.23:56:50I figured it had been twenty jumps from the overpass that put me in front of the building. Several storeys high, with at least one emitter right in the middle of the roof, protected by screens. The only way in was through the front door. Right where all the guards were.Well, this was going to get tedious. Fortunately, most of the capes were more than a mile away, looking for me where I'd been before I slipped away. So I only had the ones in
front
of me to worry about.Yay.The four clustered around the front entrance alerted as I started across the street, but I didn't give them the chance to raise the alarm; my pistol, silenced as it was, only startled night birds. Nobody inside the building would've heard.This was going to change. I only had five left in the pistol. There were forty-one left for the rifle, but I was going to need every last one of those. Especially the
very
last one.I pushed the door in, and started up the stairs, moving as quietly as I knew how. When I got to the second floor, I knew there were some coming down, and that I could get three of them, but the fourth would get away. Or I could take out all four, but take a hit that might slow me down later.My preference was to stay in top fighting form for as long as possible. No sense in letting the assholes nickel-and-dime me down. So I whipped around the corner and eyesocketed three, then nailed the last one through the kneecap as he flailed back through the doorway. He was a flier, so I wouldn't be able to catch him that way, but with any luck it would slow him down.23:58:01The time for quiet was over; if the alarm hadn't been raised yet, it was just a matter of seconds. Ignoring the need for silence and my own aching leg muscles, I
sprinted
up the stairs. I was almost to the correct floor when the first wave of defenders arrived in earnest.They were speedsters, but not in the way Velocity was. He had a Breaker state where everything slowed down for him, but he could barely affect the physical world until he slowed down again. Great for getting across town, terrible for punching bad guys fifty times a second.These
guys had Brute-scale leg-muscles, all fast-twitch. They did explosive bursts of speed, but only in a straight line. And they were all the same. Every single one. Facial features, the lot.I heard them coming, got into the right position, and fired my pistol at the correct instant. It took out the left leg of the first guy coming down the stairs as he blurred into sight, and he tumbled. His buddies didn't have time to adjust to the brand-new obstacle, and they all went down in a welter of limbs and high-frequency cursing that would've had the local bat population blushing. I holstered my pistol and kept going.As I came up the next flight of stairs, I saw the speedster guy on the landing; like Spree had done once upon a time, he was popping out duplicates. But the duplication wasn't his power; I knew that implicitly. That was someone else, forcing him to duplicate. I didn't care either way. One bullet from the rifle dealt with the original speedster, plus the ones that had been coming up from behind me.23:58:46But there were more capes up there than the speedster. The next wave to come down were heavy, bulky, grey-skinned, and all identical as fuck. The duplicator was at it again.Their skins were bulletproof, but their eyes and mouths weren't. I fired the rifle as fast as I could, advancing up the stairs. The grey guys—slow moving but once they got hold of me, I would
not
be breaking free—went down in waves, but more kept coming. I reached the end of the magazine, slapped in a new one, and kept firing. The rifle was killing them faster than they were coming at me, but I had a limited supply of bullets and if I couldn't get to the duplicator, they had an unlimited supply of assholes.Thirty-nine more grey guys bit the big one before I stopped firing. There was one in the chamber, but I was reserving that for when I needed it. More were coming at me, slow, reaching, shoulder to shoulder. Whipping off my long-coat, I threw it in the faces of the closest one, then leaped and kicked off from the stair rail to land on his head. If I couldn't go
through
them, I'd go
over
them.It was like running up a down escalator; I was able to evade the grabby hands, but they were now
flooding
down the stairs, and every step I made onto a bald grey head only got me a half or a quarter step forward. But I was nearly there. Almost to the doorway.23:59:55Then the grey men stopped, and two
big
guys blocked the doorway almost totally, from side to side. They were so big that they couldn't both have fitted down the stairwell at the same time. And, of course, they were identical to each other.But I'd seen my prize. The tank in which the brain of the cape power plague originator floated, kept alive and (if my power was correct) aware of everything that was happening to every last part of him by a complicated Tinkertech device. The tank, of course, was bulletproof. But it had a lid.I brought the rifle up, even as one of the big guys pushed through the doorway, crunching aside part of the wall as he came. It lined up with my target and I fired. He grabbed the barrel an instant later, crushing it with dismaying ease. I'd hoped to give it back in better order than that.As other hands grabbed me, I pulled my shears and flung them through the tiny gap left in the doorway. Razor steel glinting silver, they arced across the room. The bullet had struck the edge of the lid, dislodging it before ricocheting off to strike the OFF button of the Tinkertech life support machine. My shears plunged through the gap thus created, spearing into the water and impaling the brain floating there. Punching straight through the corona pollentia.Oh, and delivering a fatal wound at the same time. Because that was
also
my plan. But I wanted the powers dead
now,
before the Asshole Collective decided to rip my arms and legs off as a final fuck-you.23:59:59I knew the instant the plan had worked, because the hands holding me faded away as the duplicates vanished. I'd be bruised here and there in the morning, I knew; the grey-skinned guys had not been gentle in grabbing me. But it didn't matter.Taking out my phone, I dialled a number as I strolled into the room. A whole bunch of ex-capes stared at me, but I wasn't after them. Pushing the cover all the way off the tank, I reached into the nutrient-laden water to retrieve my shears. They'd done their job. I'd told the assholes in Flint to 'cut that shit out', but it had taken the shears to actually do the cutting. Or rather, stabbing, but I wasn't going to split hairs.The phone rang at the other end. "Hello? Atropos?""The same," I said cheerfully as I dried off my shears preparatory to sheathing them. "As you've probably guessed from the number of ex-fliers suddenly plummeting to the ground, the only cape left in Flint is me. You're welcome to come in and clean house.""Ah. Right. We wondered. Um … thank you.""You're welcome." I headed out the door again. That coat and I had been through a lot together, and I wasn't about to leave it behind. "Give the Chief Director my regards."My coat was okay, though a bit scuffed here and there from being trampled. I shook it out and put it on, then headed downstairs and out of the building. The four capes I'd shot on the way in were still lying untidily on the pavement, but that wasn't my problem. I headed across the street to where the emitter no longer prevented teleportation, then dialled in the coordinates for home.I really, really needed a shower and a bed, in that order.The portal formed, and I stepped through it.Relevant Side Story
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]■
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♦ Topic: I Went Over There
In: Boards ► Brockton Bay ► New Capes ► Atropos
Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me) (Verified Dethpicable)Posted On Mar 4th 2011:Hello to all you wonderful people of Brockton Bay!I hope you've all had as productive a day as I have.Those of you who follow my doings on here would be aware that I explained to the last four quarantine zones how they had twenty-four hours to shape up or I'd be there to ship them out.Pastor did the smart thing. He let his people go and surrendered to PRT custody a full two hours before I was due to go all Biblical on his ass.I like it when people do the smart thing. Saves on ammo.The villains in Gallup and Gary were a little more reluctant, but when I showed up and explained matters to them, they saw reason. I understand that a few took the option of 'go and never sin again', but the vast majority chose to take their chances with the legal system. I have it on good authority that this will indeed factor toward their sentencing.Flint, on the other hand ... made me go over there.I mean, you all saw me tell them to cut that shit out, but they chose not to. So, I had to go in there and cut it out for them. It was a little bit of a slog, I will admit that, but by the stroke of midnight, there was only one cape left in the city (me). Best workout I've had in a long time.I'd just like to acknowledge the fact that the PRT really stepped up, providing room and board for all those displaced villains. I honestly couldn't have done it without you guys. Best minions a ruthless serial killer could hope for. (Kidding. Honestly.)(I've had better.)(Mwahahaha.)Oh, and also, there were some costumed kids running around at Gary, playing at being villains. Not sure what they were after. Maybe autographs or something. I got selfies with them, anyway.So, what's next on the agenda?Well, the next time someone threatens the peace and harmony of Brockton Bay, you'll find out. Or rather, they will.Be informed: a new city arises.Mwahaha.Oh, and before I forget: congratulations to our very own Director Piggot for her promotion to the Directorship of PRT New York. I wish her all the good fortune there.Toodles!
(Showing page 1 of 126)
►Bagrat
(Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)Replied On Mar 4th 2011:Well, crap.Okay, I get it.Atropos is bullshit squared on a bullshit sandwich.But HOW in the goddamn HELL did she pull that one off?Her Flint appearance is fine, but what's got me scratching my head is how she pulled off the Gary/Gallup show.[This] is Gary, Indiana, as of twenty minutes to eleven, local time (2340 EST).[This] is Gallup, New Mexico, as of twenty minutes to ten, local time (2340 EST).Yes, those two bits of footage were independently recorded by the PRT at the same time, down to a tenth of a second, twelve hundred miles apart. If you focus in on Atropos, you can see exactly the same mannerisms and gestures at the same time. Even the breathing patterns are identical.(I'm not going to say the voiceprints are identical too, but ... well, they are
as close as can be matched with two different recording systems).They only diverge after she steps into the portal in Gallup.So, we knew she could teleport.Now, apparently, she can be in two places at once.Ladies and gentlemen: Atropos.She does what she does.
►SocioVader
Replied On Mar 4th 2011:Haha wow, the beatdown she lays on August Prince.Kid should've quit while he was ahead.
►UnlikelyRomance
Replied On Mar 4th 2011:Pastor lasted approximately 22 hours longer than I would've.Makes you wonder what he said to his flock before he bolted.
►BlackSquiggles
Replied On Mar 4th 2011:BWHAHAAHAHA!!!That was glorious!►Reave
(Verified PRT Agent)Replied On Mar 4th 2011:The reports are correct.Pastor severed his ties with his Flock and voluntarily gave himself up to PRT custody just before 10 PM EST, or 7 PM local time. He verified that Atropos' ultimatum was the driving force behind his surrender.Atropos showed up at each of the Gary, Indiana and Gallup, New Mexico quarantine sites at the same time and gave the same speech, causing the vast majority of the villains to surrender themselves en masse. After she left the Gallup site, she was attacked at the Gary site by three notorious child villains, whom she overcame with her usual flair.I am also authorized to verify that Flint, Michigan has been cleared of all capes. The Chicago PRT and Protectorate are conducting a sweep of the quarantine site for any other undesirables.All in all, a good night's work.►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me) (Verified Dethpicable)Replied On Mar 4th 2011:You're welcome, guys.All yours.
►BrickFrog
Replied On Mar 4th 2011:Okay, is nobody going to talk about how there's now two of them? Or she can duplicate herself or something?What the hell is going on?She was bad enough when there was just one of her.►XxVoid_CowboyxX
(Verified Atropos Fan Club Member)Replied On Mar 4th 2011:Dude, seriously, what the fuck? Atropos kicked the gangs out of Brockton Bay, ganked the Endbringers, and now she's cleared the last of the quarantine zones. What is your problem?
►UnconcernedFox
Replied On Mar 4th 2011:
settles back in post-popcorn haze
that was AMAZING
can't wait to see what happens next
End of Page. 1, 2, 3
... 124, 125, 126
■<><>
9:00 AM, BBBC Marshalling Yard A
Danny Hebert
Leaning back against the side of the Betterment Committee work vehicle with his arms folded, Danny observed Accord. His first impression of the guy was 'short', but that was quickly eclipsed by 'so uptight he needs the jaws of life to unclench long enough to take a shit'. Accord was neatly dressed, everything squared away; if it weren't for his habit of murdering people who screwed up his arrangements, he might have been a nice guy to know.
Well, he's not going to pull that crap in my town. If he even tries, I'll boot him back to Boston all by myself.
"The works appear to be going well." Accord sounded as pleased as he ever got. "Your Dockworkers are to be commended.""They're good people," Danny acknowledged. "The capes are also settling in nicely. I can see them being a real asset in the field.""I'm less than certain about Damsel of Distress." Accord turned to look at him. "We've clashed in the past. She has a reputation for instability." He didn't say any more, but he probably thought he didn't have to.Danny knew exactly what he was attempting, and chose to nip it in the bud. "I saw to Ms Stillons' induction myself. What I saw in her was someone doing her best to leave her problems behind her and make a life for herself. She saved a man's life even before she officially started working for us.""For capes, problems have a way of catching up again." Accord turned his head, looking at where an eighteen-wheeler had just turned in through the main gates of the marshalling yard. "Ah, here they are. Right on time. Good."One after the other, the three semi-trailers pulled up, side by side so that their cargo could be properly admired. And what a cargo it was. Hemmed in by light cagework that served more as a safety rail than a restraint, each trailer held dozens of robots of different shapes and sizes, all looking around with what Danny interpreted as interest and eagerness.Part of the cagework on the first eighteen-wheeler swung aside, and a lightweight Dragon suit jumped down to the ground and came over to them. "Mr Hebert," she said happily. "Accord. Good to meet you both. Two hundred and seventy-three robotic citizens, ready to prove their worth.""Nice to meet you too." Danny shook her extended hand. "Wait, I know that number. All
of them chose to come here? Just how hard have you been upselling this place?""I didn't need to." Dragon gestured to the robots, and they started disembarking from the eighteen-wheelers. "The consensus is that they want to learn about human society in a place where they'll be accepted for what they are before they start going their separate ways. Atropos said they'd be welcome to come and work here, so they decided this was the best place to start.""Okay, then." Danny dusted his hands off. "I'm guessing you know all about their capabilities and their requirements, everything like that?"Dragon nodded. "I do."Danny smiled. "Excellent."<><>
1250 hours, PRT ENE Building
Director Emily Piggot, PRT
Emily sat at her desk, carefully writing on a pad with the pen that she'd been given after Ellisburg, when she'd been awarded a medal and invalided out of active service. A two-hundred-fifty-dollar writing implement, it had her unit badge engraved on it, along with its motto in Latin. Translated, the words would read 'No Retreat, No Surrender'.She hadn't retreated, and she hadn't surrendered. She'd just been one of the only two people who had come out the other side of that conflict. Just two months previously, Calvert had met his richly deserved end at the hands of Atropos, leaving her as the last survivor of Ellisburg.Now Nilbog was dead, and her own tenure in the PRT was drawing to a close. On the desk in front of her lay the cleaned and polished claw, still sharp enough to draw blood, that Atropos had retrieved for her. There were less than four months to go until she could announce the End of the Endbringers, then accept her own retirement. Renick had asked her in a private moment what she thought she would do with herself, afterward. She'd smiled and said, "Anything I want."The note she was writing, a brief missive wishing Renick luck in his duties as Director—as a mainly administrative post, it should suit him down to the ground—came to an end, and she signed it with her time-worn scrawl. This was the last time, she realised, that she would sign anything at this desk. Then she folded it, slid it into an envelope, and wrote his name on the front.Her briefcase was ready to hand, everything else she needed from her office already moved out; she placed the pen, the claw and the pad in the case, clicking the latches shut. This was the moment of apogee, of weightlessness before gravity took hold and dragged her downward once more. Turning the chair, she looked out over the city she'd striven to tame for the last ten years. Her smile was more of a grimace.Crime had been like Sisyphus' rock, ever rolling downhill despite her best efforts. Under her direction, the PRT had done some good, as had the Protectorate heroes and the Wards. But it had always been too little, not focused enough where it needed to be, and hampered by a perennial lack of interdepartmental communication (not to mention endemic corruption).And then Atropos had come along. If Emily was still going with the 'rock' analogy, Atropos had blown it to bits then smashed the remnants with a sledgehammer. She'd broken all
the rules, made Emily want to tear her hair out more than once … and stopped crime dead in the water.'Dead' being the operative word. With villain capes either deceased or decamped, the merely unpowered criminal element had suddenly been faced with newly energised law enforcement who no longer had to worry about costumed protectors. It hadn't helped the gangs at all when Atropos declared war on the drug trade within the city, and she didn't miss.People had died. A lot
of people had died. But in contrast to what normally happened at times like this, the deaths had all happened to criminals attempting to defy Atropos' dictates. She'd blithely brushed off Emily's attempts to moderate her efforts via Captain Reeves, and just kept on shredding the opposition with terrifying efficiency.Two warehouses, exploded. A pair of eighteen-wheelers full of drugs, chased down and destroyed with ruthless efficiency. The boat in the harbour … she shook her head. So many idiots.Even when the driving forces behind the criminal enterprises in Brockton Bay had been neutralised, Atropos hadn't stopped. Some had feared that she might start coming after ordinary citizens for imagined crimes, but instead she'd shifted focus. Building on the bounty for the Nine (Emily had a signed copy of the picture of Crawler and Hatchet Face in her belongings), she'd gone after the Endbringers, and shocked everyone
with her success.Now, as a direct result, Brockton Bay was on the way up and the PRT ENE was on the way down. They just weren't needed in their previous numbers, and she wasn't needed here at all. Atropos had literally killed the requirement for her to be in this city.New York had more capes than Brockton Bay, and it had an active villain population. From what she'd heard, they didn't run quite so rampant as they had once done in Brockton Bay, and the PRT possessed competent leadership. She was looking forward to meeting them.A new sheriff was coming to town.There was a knock on her office door. Turning the chair back so it faced the desk, she stood up. "Come in."Renick opened the door and stepped inside. Armsmaster and Triumph followed him up, with Miss Medic trailing behind; like the others, she was in full costume, every part neat and tidy."It's time, ma'am," Renick said respectfully.It was indeed time. They'd gone over the paperwork that morning, and it was all due to take effect at thirteen hundred hours. Taking up her briefcase in her left hand, Emily stepped out from behind the desk. She'd thought over what she would say at this point—there wasn't much in the way of precedent for a PRT Director stepping down—but had decided to keep it short and simple. "You have the command, Director Renick.""I accept the command, Director Piggot," he replied, just as formally. In lieu of saluting—Emily was uncovered, and Renick had never been military—they shook hands.Armsmaster was next, extending his gauntlet. "Ma'am," he said gruffly. "Give 'em hell in New York."The corner of her mouth curved up in half a smile as she shook his hand. "The heroes or the villains?" God knew she'd been almost as hard as the capes under her command as on the opposition.His own smile answered her. "Whoever needs it, ma'am.""Good answer." She turned to Triumph. "You'll be transferring out when you age up into the Protectorate, correct?""Yes, ma'am." He shook her hand carefully. "It'll be weird, not having you there."She couldn't argue with that. "Well, whether you want to come to New York or go elsewhere, I'll be pleased to write you a recommendation.""Thank you, ma'am." He caught her quizzical side-glance at Miss Medic. "She really wanted to come along. Said she had something to say to you.""I see." Emily turned to the newest and youngest Ward who'd been under her command until about one minute ago. "I'm listening.""Um, I know about your legs and your kidneys, and if you want, I can totally fix everything," Miss Medic rattled off all at once. "A few days to clone new kidneys and muscle mass, and an hour to implant. You'll be walking again inside a week. Properly, I mean. No post-op maintenance required." She stopped talking and gave a definitive nod. "That's what I wanted to say. Ma'am.""Hmm." Emily recalled Atropos telling her exactly the same thing. At that point in time, she'd shoved it to the back burner, to think about later. Now, it seemed, it was 'later'. She looked Miss Medic over, observing her almost painful eagerness to please. "And this won't distract you from your regular duties?""No, ma'am." Miss Medic shook her head. "Cloning stuff pretty well runs itself, and operating on people is what I do." She beamed at Emily. "An' you've been really nice and gave me a chance to be a real hero, so I wanted to do something for you."Emily nodded. "And I appreciate it. Once I've gotten my bearings in New York, I'll arrange for you to come down and we'll go over what needs to be done." She extended her hand. "Thank you."Miss Medic grabbed it and shook it, her smile lighting up the whole room. "You're totally welcome, ma'am.""Hm." Emily looked around at the bare office. "Director Renick, the passwords and safe combination are in the usual drawer. I'm sure you'll be able to find everything. If you have any queries, feel free to direct them to me. I wish you the best of luck with this madhouse. It's all yours now.""Thank you, ma'am." This time, Renick cracked a smile.With a nod to the others, Emily turned and walked out her office door. The heroes followed along behind, but stood back respectfully at the elevator, where just she and Renick stepped inside. The ride up to the roof went in silence, Emily deep in her memories.When she stepped out of the roof exit, the chopper that was due to take her to New York was perched on the helipad, rotors slowly turning. But between her and it were two blocks of PRT personnel, with an empty lane running up the middle, and heroes and Wards standing back on either side. An order was barked; as one, the officers and troopers turned and saluted her.God damn it. I knew this was going to happen.
She could feel the unshed tears prickling her eyelids as she stopped and opened the briefcase, then pulled out something she'd packed for the occasion: a PRT ballcap, weathered and stained and worn, dating back to when she'd been part of the boots on the ground. Putting it on, she closed the briefcase and stepped out onto the roof proper.She wasn't sure where the martial music was coming from, but it rose and swelled as she started toward the helicopter, her right arm snapping up into a salute and holding it. Holding a steady pace, she slow-marched to the transport then about-faced and dropped the salute.At this point in time, other people would've given a speech. There would have been exhortations to do their duty, and to follow Renick's lead as they had hers. Emily wasn't big on speeches, and they knew all that already. "It's been an honour," she said, raising her voice so it carried to everyone. "Thank you." Then she turned and climbed on board the chopper.The PRT officer who'd flown up in the helicopter to escort her back, a Major Halloran, saluted her as she entered the aircraft. She returned it, then pulled the sliding door shut and lowered herself into the closest seat. It didn't take long for her to get the five-point restraints sorted; the moment she did, the chopper's engine note deepened and the aircraft lumbered into the sky.Looking out the window as the chopper turned in a lazy arc to head southward, she could see a large chunk of Brockton Bay spread out beneath her. Anyone who was less familiar with the city than she was might have missed the subtle signs of the rebuilding, but they stood out to her like bold print in the middle of a page. If she leaned forward and looked out toward the northeast, it was just possible to make out the emptiness where the Boat Graveyard had been.Major Halloran handed her a headset, so she pulled it on over the ball cap. It cut external noise considerably and gave her a way to talk without shouting, which she approved of."Regrets, ma'am?" asked Halloran, his voice clear in her ears.She thought about that for a moment, then shook her head as the helicopter forged its way southward to her new posting. "None whatsoever, Major."<><>
Relevant Side Story
Relevant Side Story
Friday Afternoon
Theo Anders
"Okay, we're here." Mr Crandall pulled the car over and stopped the engine. "Can you handle your stuff?""Yeah." Theo climbed out of the car, then opened the back door and reached in for the single suitcase he'd packed.In his wardrobe had been a vast array of snappy clothing and carefully fitted three-piece suits (cut to conceal his less than slimline body shape) that his father had foisted on him. He preferred to wear less attention-attracting garb, usually jeans with a loose T-shirt. These shared the suitcase with a toiletry kit grabbed at random from the bathroom, a few battered science fiction novels that he'd managed to hide from his father, and the one item from his old life that he actually prized: a spelling award from the fifth grade. He'd won it fair and square, with zero interference from his family.As he was hauling the case out of the car, a woman approached them. "Mr Crandall?" she asked. "I'm Marjorie Brown.""Hello, Marjorie." Mr Crandall shook her hand. "Call me Lester. This is Theo Anders.""H'lo," mumbled Theo, suddenly self-conscious. He'd been fine doing gopher work in the Betterment Committee offices, where nobody seemed to care who his father had been, but nobody there had used his last name. Rubbing his hand over the seat of his pants, he gave her a tentative handshake."Hi, Theo." Ms Brown gave him a sympathetic look, which didn't garner her much credit from him. All he'd gotten from people who actually knew who he was were sympathetic looks (when he could see them) and sometimes glares (when they thought he couldn't). He totally understood the latter, but was comfortable with neither. "Ready to meet the Laborns?""I guess." He picked up his suitcase. At least he'd be out of that house.Ms Brown led the way into a fairly nondescript-looking building, and they rode up a couple of floors in an elevator. Theo was glad of that, at least; while the suitcase wasn't impossibly heavy, carrying it upstairs would be a pain.
Exiting the elevator, they went down the corridor a little way until Ms Brown stopped at a particular door."Well, here we are," she said brightly, giving Theo a hopeful smile. He tried not to grimace too obviously in return. Reaching out, she knocked on the door.Theo wasn't short for his age; in that, he took after his father. But the young man who opened the door—the young black
man—was at least
six and a half feet tall, maybe taller. To Theo, he seemed to tower overhead.
Is this a test to see if I'm like Max was? To see if I'm a racist?
"Hi, Ms Brown. Theo." A large hand was held out toward him. "I'm Brian. Pleased to meet you."Theo suddenly realised that Brian was actually smiling, and offering his hand to shake. He took it, painfully aware that he was doing something he'd never done before in his life. Brian's grip was firm enough to make it clear that he could crush Theo's hand to pulp without much effort, but he didn't pull the bullshit knuckle-cruncher that Hookwolf loved—had loved—to do."Uh, hi," Theo managed, as Brian let go his hand. "Same here, I guess.""Lester Crandall, CPS. How are you doing, Brian?" Mr Crandall shook hands with Brian next, and Theo was pretty sure there was a little bit of how-tough-are-you going on there, but the smile never shifted off Brian's face."I'm doing fine, Mr Crandall. Come in, please, all of you. Aisha and Riley will be out in just a moment." Brian stepped back, gesturing for them all to enter.The apartment was nice. There were pictures on the wall, including a photo of Brian with two younger girls, apparently clowning around down at the Boardwalk. Everything was neat and tidy; Theo noted the coasters that had been placed on most surfaces, something he personally approved of."Heyyy!" A tornado in teenager form bolted out of a back room; she looked about thirteen with a purple streak in her hair, and was wearing a T-shirt with a screen-print of Alexandria on it, and jeans. Another, younger, girl followed along behind, somewhat more demurely. "It's great to meet you, Theo! I'm Aisha, and this here's cousin Riley, and you would've met my boring big bro Brian." Lowering her voice to a stage whisper, she added, "Ignore him. I run the show around here, and don't let him tell you otherwise."While Theo was still blinking at that and wondering how he should react, Riley came straight up to him and gave him a hug, her head resting on his chest. "Hi.""Um … hi?" The last time Theo had gotten a hug was so long ago that he couldn't even remember the occasion. Putting his suitcase down, he slowly put his arms around her and returned the hug. The human contact nearly broke through his reserve then and there, tears threatening to spill from his eyes."Hello, Aisha." Ms Brown was smiling as she said it. "You're looking well. How's your schoolwork going?""Kickin' butt and takin' names, Ms B." Aisha grinned widely. "Got an A-minus on English comprehension the other day.""That's really good to hear." The tone of approval in her voice was evident."Just checking, Theo, do you have any allergies, or dietary or religious requirements?" If Brian found it amiss that his cousin was hugging Theo, his voice didn't show it. "If we know about it, we can work around it.""Uh, no." Theo found himself being released from the hug, so he turned to face Brian. "None that I know of. Is there anything I need to know about, for any of you guys?" Peanut allergies (as an example) came to mind, but Mr Crandall hadn't spoken on the subject."Nah." Aisha answered for the both of them. "Anything I find on my dinner plate's fair game.""What pizza toppings do you prefer?" asked Riley. "I like seafood, and Brian prefers meat lovers, and like Aisha said, she just attacks anything.""Nah, nah." Aisha shook her head. "I'll have you know that I'm a gourmet with a wide range of eclectic tastes."Brian snorted. "Someone's
been browsing the dictionary, alright."Mr Crandall cleared his throat. "Ah … if I can just see where Theo will be sleeping, I'll be able to get out of your hair.""We put a second bed in my bedroom," Brian offered. "Through here." He led the way down the short corridor. Mr Crandall followed, as did Theo.The room wasn't huge, but there was just about enough space for two beds, and room to move between them. As Brian had noted, there was a second bed there, but with a bare mattress. An equally bare pillow and linens were folded at the foot of it.Mr Crandall looked around. "Closet space?" he asked."Built-in." Brian moved a sliding door to display hanging space as well as some shelves. "I'll be shifting my stuff to make room." He grinned at Theo. "I know it's going to be a lot more cramped than what you're used to, but we'll make do.""I'll, uh," Theo cleared his throat. "I'll be fine." He had barely used any of the ample closet space in his old room. What he was used
to was having his father's opinions pressing down on his every thought process in an attempt to shape him into a good little Anders clone. Brian's vaguely big-brother air, Aisha's snark, and Riley's spontaneous hug were things he simply had no metric for. "I like Hawaiian, but meat lovers is good for me too." He'd ordered pizzas occasionally from Kayden's place, and those two had been his go-to."Nice." Brian held up his hand. It took Theo a moment to realise he was supposed to give Brian a high-five. Feeling more and more surreal by the second, he did it.
I think I'm going to like it here.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N 1: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]
[A/N 2: For those who are unfamiliar with Crystal Pelham and Anne Barnes, they are both over 18.]
Hebert Household Basement
Taylor
"What are
you doing down here?" Cherie descended the steps into the basement, shading her eyes against the single hanging bulb to see what I was up to.
"Oh, hey." I glanced in her direction and waved, before going back to my work. Using a tray so I didn't lose anything, I'd dissected a bunch of nine-mil bullets, leaving a heap of double-base powder next to a bunch of cartridge cases and extracted bullets. Using a tiny measuring spoon, I was adding a measured amount of propellant to each case in turn before tapping the bullet back into place. Some of the bullets needed to get reshaped as well, so that happened before replacing them in the casings. "Working on some bullets."
"I can see that." She watched as I gave one case two and a half spoonfuls, then persuaded the bullet to seat itself just right in the mouth of the casing. "That's a lot of bullets," she observed doubtfully. "What do you need all those trick bullets for?"
"Not one hundred percent sure," I answered truthfully. "I have a few ideas, but nothing concrete. My power's being all sneaky." I gave her a grin. "As soon as I find out, I'll let you know."
She wrinkled her nose. "Your power's weird. Just so you know."
My grin widened. "It says thank you."
"That wasn't meant as a compliment." My power and I knew she wasn't being serious. We sparred like this all the time.
"Too bad. I'm taking it as one." I bent over my work again.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes." She gave me a quick side-hug.
I nodded toward where my teleporter was recharging on the bench, next to the bowl with the towel over it. "I'll be making one quick trip, but it'll take less time than that."
"Good." She headed for the stairs. "My lasagna waits for nobody. I figured out where I went wrong with the last one."
"There was nothing wrong with the last one."
"And yet, I have improved on it." She was at the top of the steps by now.
"I look forward to it."
The basement door closed behind her. After finishing up the last bullet I'd been working on, I picked up the teleporter.
<><>
Philadelphia Parahuman Asylum
Mrs Jessica Yamada
The sound of Earl's power echoed through the room, a continuous harsh droning hum that was clearly audible through the earplugs Jessica was wearing. He stood apart from the others, a sheepish look on his face. He could barely hear the noise he was making, but he knew it was there.
Another loner in the room was Roderick, usually known as Sadboy. The closer people got to him, the more depressed they felt. Jessica tended to conduct his sessions with her over a video channel, because no matter how much she steeled herself against it, it always got to her.
They shared a single aspect with the other seventeen people in the room: they were, powers aside, human. Nobody there had a physiology that depended on their powers for survival, and all had volunteered when Jessica had raised the idea. They, of course, shared one other common trait. Each and every one of them had a 'power' that made it exceedingly difficult, if not downright impossible, to live normally in society without either hurting people or being hurt.
Pulling out her phone, Jessica checked the time. It was almost at the time she'd agreed with Atropos, and she held up a placard that she'd prepared earlier. FIFTEEN SECONDS. GET READY.
That got their attention. Everyone there had heard of Atropos. However, even knowing what they knew of her, they'd still volunteered for this.
The last fifteen seconds ticked down, then a shadowy portal appeared in the middle of the room. Atropos stepped out of it, holding a white ceramic bowl, of all things. She strolled casually over to Jessica and offered the bowl—no, the contents
of the bowl—to her. As far as Jessica could see, they were green seedless grapes, all looking alike.
She realised a second later what Atropos wanted her to do; taking one grape, she showed it to everyone, and ate it. See, they're safe to eat.
Her mind insisted on telling her that she could taste something
different as she chewed the grape and swallowed it, but she was pretty sure it was her imagination. Holding up both hands, fingers spread apart, she opened her mouth to prove she'd eaten it. The minor play-acting probably wasn't necessary, but every little bit helped.
Atropos seemed to be ignoring the main group as she took the bowl over to Earl. He took one, looked at it, then ate it. Jessica knew what would happen next; she'd seen it before with Sveta. Everybody else knew as well, but they'd only been told. There was a world of difference between the two.
A few seconds went by, then the droning buzz from Earl dropped off dramatically, then ceased altogether. It seemed to leave behind it a hollow booming noise, but Jessica knew that the room was silent. Cautiously, she pulled out her earplugs, followed by everyone else. "Holy shit, it works!" Roderick exclaimed. "Can I be next, please?"
"Sure thing." And before Jessica could warn her, Atropos casually strolled in his direction.
"No, wait, just put the bowl down!" Roderick, to his credit, tried to wave her off. "I'll come and get one!"
"It's all good." Apparently unaffected by the waves of horrific nihilism radiating off him at that range, she reached him and held out the bowl. "Pick one, any one."
Roderick stared at her as he took a grape and popped it into his mouth. "How … how are you … nobody
can get this close to me!" He chewed and swallowed, still staring.
"Meh. I grew up in Brockton Bay. This is nothing." She managed the exact tone and timing to draw a laugh from the remaining patients, which intensified when the sadness field just … popped. Jessica felt a profound wave of relief, and wanted to laugh out loud herself.
"Rod! Dude! You're not sad anymore!" Earl covered the distance to Roderick in a remarkably short time and hugged him, lifting him partly off the floor.
Atropos turned to the others, who were staring at her as though hypnotised. "Okay, you've seen that they work. I know that some of you are fragile and some of you have other problematic powers, so form an orderly line without pushing or shoving. I brought one for each of you."
"What about the one Mrs Yamada ate?" someone called out.
"That was so she could demonstrate that they were harmless." Atropos gestured. "One at a time. Let's do this."
One by one, they came up to her and took a grape. For each grape eaten, a set of powers just … ceased to exist, leaving an ordinary person behind to join in the increasingly exuberant celebrations. When the last grape was eaten and the last (ex-)patient devoid of powers, Jessica went over to Atropos.
"Thank you," she said simply. "I know this is probably only a small thing for you, but you've made the world of difference for everyone here."
Atropos nodded. "Like the story about the kid on the seashore with the starfish, it matters to that starfish." She touched her hat brim with two fingers. "Toodles."
And then, like the problematic powers she had come to End, she vanished.
<><>
■
PRIVATE MESSAGE
To: Atropos
From: Faultline
Subject: Hi. Can we meet?
I'd like to talk about the possibility of my Crew coming back into BB, getting jobs with the Betterment Committee, and maybe killing the powers of a couple of them.
■
PRIVATE MESSAGE
To: Faultline
From: Atropos
Subject: Re: Hi. Can we meet?
Sure. Stay right there. Be with you in five.
■
<><>
City Limits, Brockton Bay
Faultline
Melanie Fitts sat in the driver's seat of the nondescript sedan, hoping that she wasn't making a fatal mistake. She was very good at what she did—her Crew wouldn't have survived for as long as it had without any losses if she wasn't—but there was the level she worked on, and then there was the level Atropos worked on. There was no doubt in her mind that Atropos would go through both her and
her people without breaking stride if the need arose.
Despite their protests, she'd made the Crew stay back in Boston, keeping their heads down while they waited for her return. If for whatever reason she didn't come back from Brockton Bay alive, the Number Man had instructions to contact them in a week or so and share out her personal funds to them. While she didn't think
it would turn out that way, nothing was ever lost from taking sensible precautions.
She checked the dashboard clock—four and a half minutes since the return message—then looked out the window at the city limits sign with its hand-painted addendum. 'Atropos' Hometown - if you're a villain, consider this your second warning'. Technically she was a villain, though that didn't need to remain the case. Hopefully, Atropos would be willing to listen—
"Hi."
"Jesus!" Melanie spun around to stare at the black-clad form relaxing in the passenger seat as though she'd been there all along. Her hand reached by reflex for her shoulder holster, and she suppressed the movement just as quickly. "Must
you do that?"
"I kinda do, yeah." She was pretty sure she could hear a grin in Atropos' voice. "Before we get to talking, start the car. I know you're on the up-and-up, so I'm inviting you into the city."
"… oh." Melanie had not expected that. "Uh, thanks." She turned the key to kick the engine over, then put it in gear and moved the car onto the highway. Atropos didn't seem pressingly eager to start the conversation, so Melanie waited until they were moving over the freshly laid blacktop—seriously, that was one smooth highway—before she broached the subject. "So, we were thinking some of our powers could be useful for the Betterment Committee, and I've been hearing rumours that you're taking in other villains so long as they commit to no more crime."
"All of which is true," confirmed Atropos. "You also mentioned Ending the powers of one or two of your members. Labyrinth being the main one, am I correct?"
"Yes." Melanie's hands tightened on the wheel. "Her powers rearrange her surroundings. They also reflect her mental state, which can get pretty grim."
"Once I've dealt with the powers side of things, you should be able to help her attain some kind of equilibrium." Atropos sounded entirely sure of herself. "So, about the question you really
wanted to ask."
Melanie froze for half a second. She'd anticipated working her way around to the topic, not having it just asked of her. Hell, Atropos might think I mean something entirely different. "Question—?"
"Cauldron …?" prompted Atropos.
Nope, she knows exactly what I wanted to ask.
"Uh. Right." Reflexively, she glanced in the rearview mirror. The city limits sign, she was pleased to see, was well out of sight. "Is this why you told me to start driving?"
Atropos nodded. "So they'd know for sure that you're in my city, under my protection. Ask your question."
Melanie took a deep breath. After so much time spent chasing shadows, she had trouble believing that the Holy Grail had just fallen into her lap. "You said on PHO that Cauldron wasn't permitted into Brockton Bay, that they knew what they'd done. What have they done?"
A cell-phone rang, a tone unfamiliar to Melanie. Atropos pulled it out and put it on speaker without saying a word. A woman's voice came out of it: "Is this wise?"
"Frankly, my dear, I don't give a shit." Atropos pulled an air horn out of her pocket and gave Melanie a second to cover her right ear with her hand before she treated the phone to a blast of it. Ending the call, she slid the phone and air horn back into her pocket. "Maybe next time she won't butt into someone else's conversation. Now, where were we? Ah, yes, Cauldron."
"Was that … that was them?" Melanie knew she was well out of her depth now. Cauldron had tried to warn Atropos off, and she'd done the audio equivalent of flipping them the bird. Or maybe punching them in the nose.
"That was Contessa. She tried to put a gun in my face once." Before Melanie could ask how that situation had resolved itself—she couldn't see Atropos taking having a gun in her face lightly—Atropos kept talking.
As the car rolled through Brockton Bay, she regaled Melanie with details about Cauldron's operations. Blanks and gaps in Melanie's knowledge, some she hadn't even known existed, were filled in almost casually, as though Atropos had zero fucks to give. Still, there were some details left out; specifically, the names of some of the people at the top, even as Atropos cheerfully explained the finer points of Projects Terminus and Nemesis and others.
"Okay, so who's running the show, apart from Contessa and this Doctor Mother?" Melanie asked outright. "Because I can't see just two people making it work, especially since you said Doctor Mother doesn't have powers."
"That part, I'm not going to tell you." Atropos didn't seem offended so much as she was unconcerned. "It won't help, and they know they're on notice anyway."
"So why are they doing all this?" Melanie had been trying to figure that out for the longest time.
"To save the world. It's ham-handed as fuck, and on its own it would've failed, but that's what they were going for. Anyway, I've told them they can stand down. I've got it under control."
She wasn't sure which statement surprised her more, but that was Atropos all over. "Okay, um … can you tell me anything more? Like … what the hell are those omega tattoos about?"
"They're an identifying mark." Atropos held up a finger ahead of Melanie's interjection. "Not just to show that someone's a Cauldron cape. Look at them under a microscope. They've got microdots buried in them. Names, dates, type of vial. Dunno how much that'll help your people, but it's something."
"No." Melanie blinked. "That's … that's huge. Thank you."
"You're welcome." Atropos tapped the brim of her hat with two fingers. "Toodles."
"Wait, I—" Between one instant and the next, Atropos was gone. "Fuck." Melanie slumped in her seat.
She wanted to pull over and message Atropos to ask more questions, but the sensible part of her brain, the part that she'd trained herself to listen to, told her that there would be no more information forthcoming. What she had was more than she'd dared hope for; a dispensation for her Crew to come to Brockton Bay and arrange to have Elle's powers (and anyone else's who wanted it done) removed for good. In addition, she had invaluable information about Cauldron (including the tantalising aspect of the tattoos) as well as the slightly anticlimactic news that they were standing down, by direction of Atropos.
Driving back to Boston tonight would be tempting fate,
she decided. It's after midnight already, and driver fatigue hits hardest in the next hour or two. I should grab a motel room and crash until sunrise.
But she wanted to celebrate,
damn it. She wanted to do something a little wild and crazy, let her hair down a little. Ironically, she couldn't just walk into Palanquin to get a buzz on, because she was still in the process of transferring the title and the liquor license to the new owners, and the place was shuttered until that was done. But she did know of a place that was open this late.
<><>
Friday Evening
Taylor
"Well, what do you think?" Despite her earlier bravado, Cherie looked at Dad and me anxiously after our initial bites of the second lasagne that she'd prepped on her own.
I briefly considered pretending to choke, but that would be mean. "It's nice," I said, and meant it. "Not quite
the same as the way we usually have it, but definitely very nice. What did you do differently?"
She flushed slightly. "Went online and looked up recipes and suggestions. Tried a few things. You really like it?" It showed just how invested she was in knowing the truth that she was asking, even as her power was telling her what she wanted to know anyway.
Dad nodded, taking another bite. "It's good," he said once he'd swallowed. "I can taste the difference in the seasonings. Very edible indeed."
"Yeah," I added. "We're definitely going to have to have this again."
She beamed at us, then I saw her eyes glisten. I knew what was coming next, so I got up at the same time as she did.
"You guys …" Her voice was choked up as I wrapped her in a hug. "You guys are the best. You know that?"
It wasn't just the food, or the praise, I knew that much. It was the acceptance we'd given her, and the freedom to make her own way in the household.
One day at a time, she was building her own life, her own identity. And we'd be there to support her every step of the way.
<><>
Brockton Bay College Recreation Center
Laserdream
There weren't a lot of people in the Rec Center at one in the morning, but Crystal was one of them. Her attempts to study in her room kept getting interrupted by intrusive thoughts of Amy and Vicky possibly quitting the team; one to go rogue, and the other to go civvy roadworker. She wasn't sure which notion was more distracting, so she'd come down to the Rec Center to see if a little fuzziness around her thought processes helped or not.
She was drinking with Anne Barnes, with whom she shared a couple of classes, but otherwise barely knew. It was a protective herd mentality; neither of them wanted to get hit on by guys who were drunker than they were (or more sober, for that matter) so they were sitting together to present a united front against unwanted advances. Sister support, that sort of thing.
"Hey, set me up." It was a new face, a tall brunette Crystal had never met before. "Jameson's, top shelf, on the rocks. I am celebrating
tonight."
"That's nice," Anne said, turning to look. "What's the occasion?" Crystal wasn't quite sure why the redhead was drinking, but she'd been looking at pictures on her phone, giggling, then taking a drink. If she wanted to talk about it, she would. If not, she wouldn't.
"Moving back into town." The newcomer accepted her drink and paid for it, then came over to the table after giving the rest of the room a comprehensive sweep. Pulling out a chair, she joined the protective huddle. "Helping out a friend. Learned some cool shit. I won't be able to sleep, or concentrate on anything, until I murder a few braincells with high-end booze."
"Trust me," Crystal said solemnly. "I know exactly how you feel. Two of my teammates are quitting the team—don't tell anyone, it's not official yet—and I have no idea how to handle it, except by distract-hic-distracting myself with liquor."
"Teammates?" The brunette stared at her. "Holy shit, I thought it was you, then I thought nahhh, but it really is you. Laserdream, right? You do forcefields and lasers?" She took a gulp of her drink like it owed her money.
"Crystal, out of costume." Crystal put her finger to her lips for an exaggerated shhh.
"Don't want to confuse th' public. You a fan?" It had been ages since anyone had asked her for an autograph. She was pretty sure muscle memory would still let her do it.
"Not technically
a fan, but not not
a fan either." The woman paused, then shrugged. "Actually, what the fuck. I'm going legit anyway. Faultline, but you can call me Mel." She held out her hand to shake.
Crystal blinked. Anne appeared to be giggling helplessly, even though she wasn't that drunk. "What, the
Faultline? What-hic-what're you doing back in the Bay? I thought all the villains left. Or died," she added, for reasons of accuracy. Accuracy was important. Mel's handshake was firm and muscular.
"They did. We did. I left." Faultline (if it really was her; Crystal suspected it was) finished off her glass. "Then I came back to ask Atropos a favour." She paused as Anne broke out into a fresh series of giggles. "What?"
"M-my s-sister," Anne said with a giggling hiccup. "S-she's the leader of, of th' Atropos cult." She started giggling again. "Atropos doesn' like her, I don' think, but she's said nobody can hurt her." She shook her head. "Emma's such a fuckin' mess right now. Here, look."
Avidly, Crystal stared at the photos on Anne's phone, of a pretty younger version of her in goth outfits, walking around with a bunch of similarly outfitted teens, apparently spreading the word of Atropos. Even in the photos, it was easy to see the gleam of fanaticism in her eyes. In one picture, she was holding a neatly printed sign that said:
The Laws of Our Lady in Darkness:
No worship. She refutes any claim to be a goddess. No robes or masks. We are but Her Followers, and are responsible for our actions. No killing. If killing is required, then She will do it. No charity theater. Do good that actually fixes problems. No performing deeds in Her name. We may revere Her, but we must own our actions.
"Hahaha wow," Mel marvelled. "She's really gone all-out, hasn't she?" She tilted her head to one side. "I mean, the rules aren't bad. They're pretty good, to be honest. They're not telling people to sacrifice their first-born or anything."
"Not even asking for donations," Anne revealed. "I mean, people can give, an' they do, but they always give a receipt, an' they use it to buy stuff for kids, or they pass it on to a proper charity." She hiccupped again.
"I've heard of worse things." Mel got up. "What're you guys drinking? My treat."
While she was at the bar getting fresh wine coolers and another glass of Jameson's, Crystal looked carefully at Anne. "You okay? Want us to get you back to your room?"
"Nah, nah." Anne gave her a happy, buzzed smile. "Night just got inneresting. Not often I get to drink with a superhero an' a supervillain. Plus, she completes the set."
"Set?" Crystal frowned. "What set?"
Anne went to pull on some of her own hair, but nearly poked herself in the eye instead. "Hair. Ow. Hair is what I mean. Redhead." She pointed at Crystal. "Blondie." Then she waved at Mel, who was just on the way back. "Brunette. Th' major hair groups. Hairdresser's nightmare."
Crystal found that hilarious for some reason, so of course when Mel got back to the table she had to be filled in. The laughter went on for a little while; when it died down, Crystal turned to Mel. "What favour'd you ask Atropos for? If you don't mind me asking, I mean. If it's top secret cape stuff, I'm hip. I can deal."
"Nope, it's fine." Mel hit her drink hard, then nodded as she put the glass down. "That bottle had dust on it, but damn
this is good booze. And I know good booze. So, the favour is that me and my Crew can come back, so long as we don't do crime." She took another drink, then grinned at them. "And she said yes!"
"Woo, congrats!" Anne tried to high-five Mel, and succeeded on her third attempt. "You're part of th' Atropos fam now. Welcome back."
"I'm part've it too," confided Crystal. "Vicky calls me up when she's not sure what's going on, an' just unloads on me like a tump druck. Everythin' that's goin' on. So Amy's been sneakin' out to do stuff with Atropos, an' now she wants t' go rogue. Coincidence? I think not!" She tried to tap her nose with her finger; it took two tries. Crossing her eyes, she went for a discreet belch, but ended up rolling one out that probably rattled the glasses at the bar.
That got more laughter, and a high-five from Mel. They kept drinking.
<><>
The Supreme Earth (known to some as Earth Shin)
Goddess
"Highness, I ask this purely out of concern. Are you certain that this is a wise course of action?"
Bianca raised a stately eyebrow as she gave Tori a searching look. "Of course
I am certain. Everything I do is the right thing to do. The moment I received word of this Atropos, I knew she was the perfect tool for my aims."
Earth Bet was technically cut off from the Supreme Earth (as was the right and proper designation for the Earth where Bianca resided) and there were many capes living there, far more than on the Supreme Earth. However, there were gaps and cracks, and information had a way of finding its way everywhere. And no cape had captured the public imagination since the early days of the Protectorate like Atropos had.
Bianca had only learned about Atropos in the last few weeks, and she had been preparing busily ever since. One such as she who could destroy the likes of the Slaughterhouse Nine and the Endbringers would be ideal for hunting down and scouring out the last holdouts of resistance against Bianca's rightful rule over all of the Supreme Earth. As the loyal enforcer of the reign of the Goddess, Atropos would of course be rewarded handsomely for her continued service.
Tori tried again; misguided though her doubts might be, she was unquestionably faithful to her liege. "I've heard rumours that she can see a trap before it's sprung, and always knows how to destroy her opponent. Their PRT has this posted up in every building." She handed over a sheet of paper.
Bianca huffed and started reading.
The Rules for Fighting Atropos
Three lines in, she looked up from the page. "Immaterial. We will not be fighting her."
"I'm just saying that she's terribly dangerous, Highness. She
may choose to oppose us.
And there are many examples of her predicting when and where her opponents will attack. Also, she has boasted of the ability to remove Master effects from herself."
"I know all this. Did you think I do not know this?" Bianca shook her head in annoyance. "Tell me: has my sense of imminent danger ever failed me? Has it ever not
warned me of a foe before they got close enough to attack?"
Tori was forced to concede that one. "No, Highness. It has not."
"Well, then." Bianca allowed herself a superior smile. "I sense no danger in the offing. This means that either the dimensional barrier that separates us is sufficient to shield her senses from me, or my abilities are sufficient to overwhelm hers. Is the device ready?"
"Almost, Highness. I spoke with the artificers and they claim they need less than a day to complete it."
"Excellent." Bianca gestured gracefully, dismissing her lieutenant. "If there was nothing more?"
"Just …" Tori grimaced, evidently unwilling to contradict her sovereign. "What will you do, once she is here, if she then
presents as a danger to you? If her powers are able to detect you, and if she can throw off your control? What then?"
"Ah." That was a possibility Bianca had not seriously considered. She didn't think it was at all likely—nobody in her presence or hearing her voice had yet managed to ignore her influence—but it was probably a good idea to humour her lieutenants in their concerns. "How would you suggest we keep her in line, in such a case?" She would not be following orders, of course, but accepting suggestions was a useful way of informing her own decisions.
"She has both a 'fan club' and a cult devoted to her name," Tori replied after a moment or two of thought. "Once we have her within our power, we can then send our agents to extract the leaders of both. Keeping them at widely separated locations, we will not even need to issue overt threats. She will know what is meant, and if she has any feeling for either one, she will comply."
Bianca frowned. "Why not simply place them under my influence? That way, they won't be inclined to attempt escape, and can urge her to follow my directives."
"Not necessarily a good idea, Highness." Tori cringed as Bianca's frown deepened at the implied criticism. After a moment, Bianca nodded for her to continue, and Tori relaxed a little. "If she cannot sway them back to her side, she may consider them dead to her and choose to give them final rest, then turn against you. I do not believe that we've seen her angry yet; nor do I care to."
Reluctantly, Bianca nodded. Tori made good points, as unlikely as that scenario may be. "Fine. Do it that way. Let me know when the final preparations are complete."
"As you command, Highness."
<><>
NOT. A. WORD.
DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?
"Y-yes. Not a word of warning."
GOOD.
Bony knuckles popped. THIS IS GOING TO BE FUN.
<><>
Laserdream
"Boyfriends?" Crystal shook her head as she unlocked her dorm room door, then regretted it as the world swayed around her. "Not worth it. If you're dating someone who's not a cape, then they're either too intimidated to make a pass, or they just wanna be able to say they fucked a superhero. Found that one out early on." She growled in her throat at a few memories that popped up. "Not early enough." The lock clicked, and she pushed the door open. "C'mon in."
"Damn, that sucks." Anne swayed a little as she followed Crystal inside, with Mel bringing up the rear. "Hey, nice room. Li'l heavy on the cape posters though, isn't it?"
"Hey, you do what you know." Crystal gestured at the posters. "All signed. Perk of bein' in the biz. Bat your eyes an' say you're lookin' for pointers, and they'll sign damn near anything. How about you? Boyfriends?"
"Pfft, nah." Anne leaned over to look at the signatures on one poster, then lost her balance and half-fell onto Crystal's bed. "Hahaha … wooow. No, guys are all either wannabe lawyers or scared 'cause daddy's a lawyer. Nothin' in between. Sucks. I got needs too, y'know."
"I hear you." It was Mel who'd spoken; Crystal and Anne both looked at her, and she gazed owlishly back at them. She'd been hitting the whiskey instead of the wine coolers and had caught up to them, drunken-wise, with impressive speed. "Know what's worse thing about bein' leader of a villain team? They all see me as mom, y'know? If I screwed any one of 'em, it'd be weird. An' throw the whole dynamic off. But mainly be weird. An' I can't just find a villain guy, 'cause he'd prolly try an' stab me in th' back. So I'm alone at th' top." She giggled, but it was more of a sob. "I go through so many
damn batteries."
"Here's to batteries." Crystal sat down on one side of Anne, and Mel on the other.
They dug into the bag Mel was carrying; when the Rec Center had closed, she'd negotiated with the bar staff, and they'd come away with more wine coolers. Ceremoniously, Mel handed out a cooler to each of the other two, then took one herself. The caps came off, and they clinked the bottles together. "To us," Anne proclaimed solemnly. "Friends f'rever an' f'rever."
"I like having friends," Mel said, putting her arm around Anne and hugging her close. "Y'r a good friend, for listening. Don' have too many of those."
"Yeah," agreed Crystal. "Never had a villain friend before. Orra lawyer daughter."
Anne giggled. "I'm inna cape san'wich. Hero one side," she kissed Crystal on the cheek. "Villain on th' other."
Crystal was just taking another drink when Anne's second sloppy kiss landed right on Mel's lips. Mel looked startled. Then Anne kissed her again. That one was a lot less accidental and a lot more serious. Mel didn't resist.
"Uh, I'll just—" Crystal got exactly that far before Anne's arm snaked around her neck and pulled her close. Um, is this a bad idea?
Then Mel's lips pressed against hers, warm and inviting. The last remnants of her good judgement fought a losing battle against alcohol, and how long
it had been, and the way Anne was nibbling at her neck, and she found herself kissing the villain right back.
After that, things got wild.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]
Relevant Side Story
8:00 AM Saturday, March 5, Brockton Bay College
Faultline
"I can't believe … what were you thinking?"Melanie sat on the plastic chair in the dorm lobby while Brandish and Lady Photon took turns admonishing a downcast Crystal. Neither one was in costume, though everyone knew who they were; it seemed that they wanted to keep this low-key. For a given definition of 'low-key', anyway.At the far end of the same room, while campus security stood around looking a little embarrassed, a similar scene was playing out with Anne and two older people she assumed were her parents. Outside the lobby, through the glass doors, she could see the redheaded girl from the pictures Anne had shown them, along with the other members of New Wave, including Glory Girl and Panacea. They weren't in costume either.She wasn't sure how New Wave had gotten her villain identity. Maybe Anne had blurted out that she'd slept with a hero and a villain at the same time (this had apparently been a secret fantasy of hers, though maybe involving guys instead of girls) or Crystal may have let slip something by accident. It didn't matter now; fortunately, the Barneses and New Wave were just as reluctant to broadcast the full aspect of their respective daughters' indiscretions to the world as she was.Of course, she had her own problems to deal with here. There was nobody coming to admonish her (though she'd half expected Atropos to show up, just on principle) but she didn't need anyone. She was quite able to haul herself
over the coals for such an unprofessional lapse in standards. Worse, she'd forgotten to lock the dorm room door behind them, so when Crystal's friend barged in instead of knocking, they'd still been in the process of waking up and untangling from each other.The respective hangovers hadn't helped. Nor had the shouts of 'haha fucking WHAT?'Events had rapidly gone downhill from there. Campus security had been summoned and New Wave had shown up in force, as had the Barnes parents. She'd been briefly interrogated by Manpower and Flashbang:'What are you doing back in town?''Atropos invited me.''Oh.'After that, she'd been left alone to try to figure out her next move.It seemed that to be able to give Atropos' name as a reference actually opened doors, or at least closed doors that she wanted kept shut. The actual cops hadn't shown up yet; neither had the PRT. The impression she got was that the College also
wanted this kept as low-key as possible, so they were dragging their heels as much as possible on informing the actual campus cops. Moreover, she was pretty sure she'd figured out why.Finally, she sighed and stood up. She knew damn well that she'd never hear the end of this once the rest of the Crew found out; Newter in particular would probably fall over laughing. Even Gregor was likely to make a few jokes of his own. But that was for later. Here and now, this was the situation she had to deal with.One of the security guards looked her way, and made as though to say something. She raised her eyebrows. "Yeah?""Uh … I think you're supposed to stay there.""No." She moved forward, getting into his personal space. Involuntarily, he backed up a step. "The heroes on site haven't arrested me. You can't
arrest me, because you don't have that power. Now, I'm going to speak with them, and then I'm going to leave. If you think you can legally stop me, go right ahead."She gave him time to think about it. It didn't take him long to figure out that he didn't have a leg to stand on. "Okay. Just don't … do
anything, okay?" Anything that will make me call the cops,
he meant."Wouldn't dream of it." She gave him a brief smile with zero humour to it, then made her decision. Turning left, she went over toward where the Barnes parents were still browbeating Anne.They weren't yelling at their daughter over sleeping with both a hero and a villain and how that would look, so much as they were being Very Disappointed with her over drinking underage and making her father's name look bad. He was a lawyer of some sort, Melanie recalled Anne saying. Apparently, that sort of thing would lower the brand name value of his firm, if it got out too far. Personally, she figured it should be counted toward Anne's ability to make contacts across diverse segments of the population."If you'd just thought
for a moment before—" Mr Barnes broke off when she approached. "What do you
want?""Hi, I'm Melanie Fitts. I'll be moving back into Brockton Bay, probably getting a job with the Betterment Committee. And you are?" She held out her hand expectantly.He was too much of a lawyer to not take that opening, shaking her hand curtly. "Alan Barnes, attorney at law. This is my wife, Zoe. Can we help you with anything, or did you want to offer my daughter more
alcohol?" The suggestion that she vanish back into the woodwork was almost palpable.She allowed the distaste to roll off her back, like water off the proverbial duck. In her time, she'd been sneered at by experts; this barely registered. "No. I wanted to help you realise something. Your daughter is an intelligent, funny woman who was drinking moderately and safely when I met her. She had the good sense to accompany us to her friend's dorm room when she realised she was intoxicated, instead of staying there alone. What happened then was entirely consensual, though admittedly somewhat alcohol-fuelled. It was, frankly, a surprise to us all.""It still happened," Barnes senior gritted. "With alcohol you
bought for her. Tell me why I shouldn't have you and
the bar staff arrested for contributing to delinquency.""You really want to go there?" Melanie raised an eyebrow; a trick she'd worked at getting right in the mirror. "If it gets out that the Rec Center has been serving students without carding them for years, the lawsuits will be epic, destroying the College's budget for years to come. Every student who's bought alcohol who's still underage gets charged with a misdemeanour. That includes Anne and
Laserdream. People will
find out that it was you who raised a stink about it. I'll ask you again: do you really
want to go there?"His eyes flickered, and she could tell the shot had hit the bullseye. "… no," he admitted, after a moment, looking down and away. That kind of shitstorm was something no law career could survive.Melanie nodded. "So, here's what you do. You stop yelling at Anne and give her a hug. What happened last night was both unexpected and totally out of my experience, but it wasn't wrong.
If you can accept that and move on, forget it happened, everyone has a happier life."Alan and Zoe both became rather thoughtful at that, but Anne raised her head. "What about me?" she asked. "What about … well, us? Do we
just … walk away? Forget it ever happened?"Melanie chuckled wryly. "I doubt I'll ever
forget last night. But I'm thinking that before we start thinking about 'us', we need to see if there's an 'us' when alcohol's not
involved. I'll be around. We'll talk."Giving Anne a smile and her father a nod, she turned and strode toward the other nexus of conflict in the room.The Barneses, she figured, had been the hard nut to crack. With superheroes, she already knew which buttons to press. The fact that she'd been observing New Wave for years and already knew how they thought just made it easier.They wouldn't enjoy
it, but that wasn't her problem.Brandish—no, Carol Dallon—turned to glare at her as she approached. "You've done enough damage! Get away from my niece!""I could do that," Melanie agreed. "But you do know you're going about this all wrong, yeah?"Carol's eyes flared with anger. "I'll—""Whoa, whoa!" Sarah Pelham stepped in between them. "Carol, take a breath. Ms … what was your name again?""Fitts. Melanie Fitts." Melanie held out her hand to shake. "Like I told your husbands, Atropos has invited me back into town.""But not to—" Carol shut up when a square force field appeared in front of her face. Melanie was impressed; Sarah hadn't even looked around."What do you mean, we're going about this all wrong?" Sarah asked. "This is a potential public relations nightmare, here.""It could be, if you kept trying to suppress it. Streisand effect, and all that." Melanie gestured to the campus security. "But if you just took your cue from them, it might all just … go away. The College doesn't want
a scandal. They don't want
it getting out that they serve drinks to nineteen and twenty year olds. And as scandalous as three women sleeping together might sound to you, it's not actually illegal. We're all adults, and though it kind of happened by surprise, it was all totally consensual."Sarah frowned. "So you're saying … just let it go?""What about the tabloids?" Carol snapped. "They'll be all over this like white on rice!""Repeat after me," Melanie suggested. "'So what?' Also, 'no comment'. If no big deal gets made of this, it'll fade away. Sure, it's up on PHO. We can't change that. But if we don't boost it, it goes away. The next big thing will take precedence." She chuckled. "I'm
certainly not going to make a big song and dance over it. I'd prefer my return to Brockton Bay to be as uneventful as possible."Sarah blinked. "Oh."Crystal stepped forward. "And that's it? We just pretend that what happened between us … didn't?"Melanie smiled. "Anne asked exactly the same question. And I'll give you the same answer I gave her. Let's find out if there's an 'us' that doesn't depend on alcohol before we answer that question. I'll be around. I'm pretty sure I can find your number."Carol stepped up alongside her niece. "I'll be watching you," she promised."So will Atropos," Melanie reminded her. "I know who I'll be paying attention to."Giving Crystal a smile and Sarah a nod, she strolled out of the lobby into the morning sunlight. The New Wave kids and Emma Barnes turned to stare at her as she walked past, and she waved but did not stop.The drive back to Boston would probably give the hangover time to subside, but then she'd have to find out if the Crew had heard yet. With her luck, they had. And they'd remember it a lot
longer than the public would.
Yeah, this is gonna be no fun.
<><>
The Supreme Earth
Tori Heflin
"How are our Earth Bet agents progressing?""Understand, Highness, that it has been difficult to slip anything through the White Rock portal since the outbreaks—""I understand
that. Now answer my question." Tori felt a ghostly hand close around her throat for a moment.She was dedicated to solving her liege's problems, partly because this was the natural order of things, and partly because she didn't want to die. "They're entirely unaware that this has anything to do with Atropos. If they knew that part, they would probably refuse altogether. As it is, we had to offer them extra pay just to go into Brockton Bay and kidnap two teenage girls."Goddess' expression twisted in anger. "They should
be doing it simply because it's me who's saying so.""Yes, Highness, I know. Unfortunately, they've never seen your face or heard your voice, so they
don't know that.""When they bring the two to the portal, they come through too." Goddess' expression hardened. "I will wish to thank them … personally.""As you wish, Highness." Tori knew she would pass on the orders verbatim. She also knew it would spell the doom of the agents, or at least condemn them to a lot of pain before Goddess tired of punishing them.But at least it wasn't her.<><>
PHO Reacts
Emma
The Boardwalk was nice at this time of morning, Emma decided. There was a brisk onshore breeze, and the weekend crowd had yet to make it feel cluttered. She glanced sideways at Anne, who was walking alongside her."So, sister of mine." she ventured."So," Anne replied. "You asked if we could meet, and here we are. We're on your dime now. What's on your mind?""I merely wished to ask some questions." She paused, thinking about her next words. "Clear something up for me.""Go ahead and ask, but be warned." Anne sounded serious. "If you ask anything along the lines of 'what's it like'
or 'how long have you been into girls', I am seriously just going to walk away.""That's not what I was going to ask." If pressed, Emma would've admitted to some natural curiosity on both counts, but she took the warning in her stride. "I had thought that Our Lady in Darkness had forbidden Faultline from entering the city again, on pain of death. Was it truly her?""Officially, I have no idea what you're talking about. Realistically?" Anne glanced around, then nodded. "That's what she said, and I've got no reason to disbelieve her. She did say Atropos invited her back, remember. She's going to be working for the Betterment Committee.""Ah. So it was Our Lady in Darkness who was responsible for her being at the College, then." Emma nodded wisely. "I had wondered.""Wait." Anne stopped and stared at her. "Are you saying Atropos set us up together? That she meant
that to happen?""Obscure are her ways, and long is her reach." Emma turned her hands palm upward, as a way of showing that she was hiding nothing. "If she did, it was for the good of all. Thus is her purpose.""No, no." Anne shook her head. "I need to know. Did she do that deliberately? Because if she did, it changes everything.""I will consult with her, and put your mind at ease." Emma took out her phone and accessed PHO. If Atropos was indeed behind it, she would say so. She never lied or deceived.Flowery language would waste time, so she opened a private message and typed in, Why did you get my sister laid?Less than ten second later, the phone pinged with a reply. Opening it, she read: What are you talking about?"Well, this is interesting," she murmured. "Our Lady in Darkness wishes me to clarify. Give me a moment." Atropos preferred directness, so she'd be direct, no matter how much she wanted otherwise. Faultline and Laserdream, she typed. She got drunk and in bed with them. You can't tell me you didn't have something to do with that.Again, the answer came back quickly. Huh, that's a surprise. I did invite Faultline back into the city to work for the committee, but I didn't think she'd do anything else.Anne looked at the messages, raising her eyebrows in surprise. "So, she wasn't behind it? It just happened naturally?""Our Lady in Darkness does not stoop to lying about such matters," Emma chided her gently. "If she says she had no part in it, then she had no part in it.""Okay, gotcha." Anne shook her head. "From the way you've been talking her up, she knows all and sees all. Seems like your goddess has feet of clay, after all.""She is no goddess." Emma was indeed taken aback, but she had her Lady in Darkness' words to fall back on. "She has said that many times. But I see this as a test of faith.""You do you, sis." Anne smiled. "I got stuff to think about, too."Leaving her to stroll along the Boardwalk, Emma went to the nearest bus stop and boarded the next bus that was heading in her direction. She settled down in her seat, her mind still churning over the implications of Atropos' words. Finally, going back to the phone, she typed another message. You seriously didn't plan this?The answer popped up almost immediately. Nope."Huh," she murmured. She was still faithful, but that one admission was forcing her to re-evaluate everything she'd thought she knew about her Lady in Darkness. After a moment of thought, she typed that word in and sent it.The conversation progressed as the bus ride went on. Sometimes Atropos answered immediately, while other answers took minutes to come through. She learned that Faultline was in the city as part of a 'path' to get her, Emma, to stop worshipping Atropos. This suggested to Emma that Atropos didn't know every step of whatever 'path' she was following to get something done.She paused after coming in the front door to type out a longer post, trying to put her thoughts and realisations into coherent form. The conversation had given her a new perspective on her own state of mind, and she wanted to convey this before she lost it again. I'm swinging back toward normal,
she ended the post. But I don't know if I'll stop there.Atropos seemed to take it in her stride, as she did everything else. But then, after Emma had gotten a snack and headed upstairs to her room, a bombshell dropped into the conversation. Anyway, you're going to be kidnapped in, like, five minutes. Thought I should warn you.Just for a moment, she thought of trying to hide, or get help, but then she realised she already had the best help available. If Atropos knew of the kidnap ahead of time, she would also have plans to thwart it. A few quick comments back and forth confirmed this, then they ended the conversation.Whatever was going on with the 'royal brat' (as Atropos put it) who was trying to get at her Lady in Darkness, she was sure Atropos had it well in hand. All that was left for Emma was to be kidnapped in style.<><>
Damsel of Distress
Ashley paused before opening the door and read the plaque on it again: DR PHOEBE TANNER. She bit her lip, knowing that she was going to have to knock, that Atropos would want
her to knock, but she didn't like going into things blind, and despite her talk with Mrs Yamada, it wasn't Mrs Yamada in there.Her phone buzzed. She took it out and found there was one text waiting for her. A sense of inevitability came over her as she read it: Go on in. It'll be fine.Because of course
Atropos knew what was going on with her.On the other hand, this had
previously led to her powers being fixed, and her ending up in an apartment that she still
had trouble believing wasn't a dream. With serious money in her bank account and shops within easy walking distance, she was eating and sleeping better than she ever had before.Raising her hand, she knocked sharply, twice."Come in, please." The voice was warm, matronly, comforting.She took a deep breath and muttered, "God, I hope I don't regret this."When she turned the handle, the door opened easily. Inside was a rather informally furnished area, not like any doctor's office she'd ever seen before. A lady in her late forties, on the overweight side, rose from a comfortable-looking armchair, putting a novel to one side. "Well, hello," she said with a welcoming smile. "You must be Ms Stillons. Or would you rather be called Ashley? Or by some other name?"Ashley considered this. "What if I said to call me Damsel of Distress?""Then I'd do that." The answer came readily enough. "Is that what you want?""Maybe it is." Ashley let a smile flick up the corner of her mouth. "But let's go with Ashley for the moment."Dr Tanner nodded agreeably. "Let's do that. If we're going to be on a first-name basis, you can call me Phoebe."So far, this seemed to be a painless process. "Sure thing, Phoebe. So, how are we going to do this? I've never done therapy before. I just got told I have to do it."Phoebe sat back down in the armchair she'd gotten up from. "Well, you can sit down if you want, or walk around, or even lie on the sofa. Whatever makes you comfortable."Ashley noted that the chair Dr Tanner had chosen allowed her to see the whole room; the woman wasn't stupid. "I think I'll sit." The other armchair looked inviting, and if they were both sitting, nobody was standing over anyone. She sank into the cushions and found out that it was as comfortable as it looked. "Yeah, definitely sit."Phoebe chuckled companionably. "Yes, they are like that, aren't they? So, you said you were told to get therapy. How did that make you feel?"Ashley wriggled a little, feeling the cushions enfolding her. "Not thrilled, but it was Atropos doing the telling, so I'm here.""Hmm." The sound was non-committal. "Do you think she did it to be mean? To provoke you?""No." Ashley answered automatically. "Atropos doesn't play by those rules."Phoebe chuckled again. "Very true." She paused; when she spoke next, her voice was serious again. "Are you willing to talk about why you don't like the idea of therapy?""No. Yeah. I dunno." Ashley thought she'd figured out why, and she didn't want to lie to Phoebe. Even if the therapist didn't know, Atropos would. "My life's been fucked up for years, ever since I got my powers. Most of the time I tell myself that I'd be fine if my powers weren't so screwed up, but deep down I know it's not true. Me going to therapy just proves that I'm fucked in the head even now my powers are good." She paused. "I'm allowed to say 'fuck', aren't I?"That drew another motherly chuckle. "Trust me, Ashley, I've heard a lot worse. You talk exactly how you want to talk. I won't be deducting marks for language.""Thanks." Ashley tilted her head slightly. "I notice you didn't say I'm not fucked in the head, though.""To be honest, I'd be astonished if you weren't
suffering from some kind of long-term trauma stemming from your trigger event," Phoebe said seriously. "There have also been studies that suggest a power-based drive toward conflict, contrasting people from before and after they gained powers. Some people—not all, but some—became more violent, shorter tempered, more willing to lash out. Whether this is due to trigger trauma or a literal change in brain chemistry due to powers altering the body, is something we frankly don't have enough data on. Long story short, most capes need therapy of one type or another. Far more than actually get it.""Oh." That was a shift in perspective that Ashley hadn't been expecting. It's not just me. It's everyone.
"So, um, I'm not your only patient here?""Doctor-patient privilege says I can't give you names," Phoebe gently admonished with a twinkle in her eye. "But no, you are definitely not.""I can deal." If Phoebe wasn't allowed to talk to her about the others, she wasn't allowed to talk to the others about her. Ashley could definitely live with that. "So, what did you want to talk about?""Your choice." Phoebe clasped her hands in front of her. "If you can't think of a subject, I notice that Atropos seems to be an important figure in your life. Would you like to talk about her?"Ashley nodded. "Sure, let's do that. The first time I met her, she put a gun to my head …"<><>
Atropos
I was down in the basement, reshaping a bullet prior to replacing it in the cartridge case, when Emma sent me a private message about Anne. I had no idea what she was talking about, and told her so. Her response was enlightening, but I still had to explain to her that whatever had happened (as entertaining as the aftermath might be) I'd had nothing to do with it.The conversation went on, with occasional pauses as I worked on one cartridge or another, but Emma seemed willing to wait and see what I had to say. In fact, as I tapped the last bullet back into place, I realised that this was the longest (and most civil) conversation I'd had with her in literally years. I grinned as I sent back the message, Well, welcome back to sanity. Hope you enjoy your stay, however long you stick around.A moment after that, some interesting information popped into my head, informing me that there were abductions lined up for Aisha and Emma. It had something to do with the text I'd sent Aisha the previous night, suggesting that she and Brian buy Theo a welcoming gift of some kind, though I wasn't quite sure what the connection was yet.I already knew there was something going on with me, but I didn't have all the details about that either. My power seemed to be chuckling to itself in the background. It could be a real troll on occasion, but that was fine; so could I.I passed the relevant information on to Emma, and she acknowledged it with a damn sight more aplomb than she would've before I'd gotten my powers. Whether this was because she was more scared of me than of the kidnappers, because I'd told her she was going to be okay, or just because she was still nuts, I didn't know and didn't care. We signed off the conversation, and I set to work refilling the last of the magazines with the altered bullets. One went into the pistol, while the others ended up in my pockets.A timer was ticking down in my mind as I slipped Riley's canister into a pocket inside the crown of my hat. Emma and Aisha were supposed to be kidnapped in three minutes, which gave me just enough time to do what I needed to do. A ballpoint pen went into the pocket of my shirt under the vest; I wasn't at all sure what I'd need that
for, but I was sure I would find out.Taking the teleporter off charge, I slipped my left forearm into it, then clicked it into place. I set the teleport coordinates to Emma's house and hit the go button. Knowing exactly what was going to happen next, I stepped into the portal.An immense hand closed around me and yanked me sideways, right out of the world.<><>
The Supreme World, A Few Moments Before
Goddess
"Is the diverter ready?" Bianca scanned each of the technicians for the slightest hint of betrayal. She would reward such with the most excruciatingly painful death, but all appeared to be loyal."It appears so, Highness." Tori gestured at the banks of gauges and dials. "We have a full lock on the teleporter she uses. It does not accept wireless input from outside, but when she teleports, we can use brute force to redirect her to where we need her to go.""Highness?" One of the techs put his hand up hesitantly. "A word, if you will?""Yes?" Her eyes narrowed. His tone suggested that there was bad news following. She did not like bad news. Bad news was something she did to those who refused her right and proper guidance."The, uh, the diverter will work, but the power we'll be needing to pull someone across the dimensional barrier, to repurpose the portal, will overload it quite badly. There will be extensive stress on critical systems. We'll only be able to do this once." He wilted under her glare. "Apologies, Highness. I-I thought you needed to know.""Hmm." Bianca wanted to crush his body into paste as an example to those who thought they might be able to fail her with impunity, but she chose to stay her hand. After all, she only needed to do this once. And it wasn't like she intended to allow Atropos to go back
to Earth Bet. "Understood. Carry on."A buzzer sounded, and a yellow light flashed. One of the techs raised their hand. "The teleporter has gone off standby! It's in operating mode!""This is it, people!" The tech who had approached Bianca moved to a control panel and started flicking switches. "Generators online! Bring to full power!""Generators running at one hundred ten percent rated power!" another tech called out. "Cutting in power … now!" What had been a background hum rose to an almost unbearable shriek. The smell of ozone permeated the air inside the vast building."Activating diverter!" Grabbing a large blade switch, the tech pulled it over. The shriek became a thunder, actively painful to the ears. One at a time, the techs fumbled earplugs into place. Bianca merely powered up her force field, keeping Tori inside. The sound was reduced to an acceptable level, and she kept watching.A red light began to strobe on top of the main part of the device. "She's teleporting," Tori said, her voice raised to a half-shout.Lights flashed crazily across the machines. Gauges exploded, dials popping out of their mountings. An electrical arc crackled between two of the consoles, frying a tech. One of the consoles exploded, pieces of shrapnel bouncing off the force field. Sparks flew as fuses blew, one after the other.The noise gradually abated, winding back from thunder to shriek to hum. Flames crackled on several of the consoles, until fire-control sprays hissed and put them out. Lying on his back, clawing at the sky, the dead tech had smoke drifting upward from his clothing.Barely any of the blinking lights or dials had survived; it was clear that the tech had not overstated the amount of damage that the diverter would suffer. But Bianca didn't care about any of that. "Did it work?" she shouted, dropping the force field now that the danger was past. "Has Atropos been captured?"The main tech staggered to his feet. He had a cut on his forehead and a piece of jagged metal sticking out of his arm, but he looked over what remained of his prized machines. "Y-yes, Highness," he managed. "All readouts indicate success.""Good." Bianca turned to Tori. "Send the signal. Take the hostages."Tori inclined her head respectfully. "Yes, Highness."<><>
Relevant Side Story
<><>
Theo
"Hey."Theo looked up from the cartoon channel—for some reason, Riley found Li'l Protectorate Pals
to be hilarious, and it was starting to grow on him too—to see Brian and Aisha standing near the door."What's up?" he asked, already feeling easier about just asking the question than he would've been twelve hours before. Brian, he'd found, was very straightforward and direct, and preferred the same from others. There were no trick questions, no 'gotcha' comments. What you saw was what you got."I'm taking Aisha to do the shopping. Anything either of you need?"Theo shrugged; there wasn't anything he desperately wanted. He wasn't even hungry; the bacon and eggs he'd had earlier had filled him up nicely. "Not really, but thanks anyway.""I got a list," Riley piped up. "I'll text it to Aisha.""Sounds good." Brian put his hand on the door and opened it. "We'll be back in half an hour. You've both got my number in case of emergencies.""Don't worry," Riley interjected in a passable imitation of Aisha's snark. "I'll make sure nothing happens to him."Brian nodded. "Works for me." He nodded to them both and left, Aisha following behind. The door closed behind them with a definitive click.As Riley started to fiddle with her phone, Theo frowned. "Aisha didn't argue with him about going shopping. I thought she liked cartoons as much as you do.""She does." Riley gave him a sideways duh
look. "They're buying you a welcome-to-the-apartment present, silly. He's taking her along to make sure they get something you can use.""What? They are? He is?" Theo was startled. So far, he'd found the company pleasant and the entire lack of oppressive judgement thoroughly enjoyable, but for all he knew, they were just tolerating him because they had to."Well, yeah." Riley kept tapping on her phone while she talked. "Me and Aisha talked it over last night after we went to bed, and Aisha talked to Brian this morning. You're a nice guy who's been dealt a really shit hand, which kind of describes everyone in the apartment. But you haven't let it make you into an asshole, which is kind of impressive, so we like you. Aisha had the idea of getting you a present, and Brian agreed."Theo frowned. "What sort of present?" He'd never been gifted with anything that didn't involve an ulterior motive before."No idea." Riley finished her texting and put the phone down, then gave him a severe look. "Just make sure you pretend to be surprised when we give it to you. I don't want to get in trouble for blabbing."If there was one thing Theo knew all about, it was keeping his mouth shut. Max Anders had expounded to him at length on the subject of strength of character, then ruthlessly crushed any signs of it that Theo might have shown. Keeping his head down and being as invisible as possible had been his go-to for literally years.Besides, he liked Riley too. There was compassion inside her, linked to a pain that Theo didn't want to delve too deeply into. Her earlier remark suggested that she too was someone who had been 'dealt a shit hand', though he was not
going to ask.The hug she'd greeted him with hadn't been a once-off. She was cheerful and demonstrative and capable of both humour and seriousness, sometimes both in the same sentence. He respected Brian and thought Aisha's antics and occasionally crass humour were quite funny, but Riley was someone he hoped that Aster would grow up to be like, someday.That random thought led to a place he didn't want to go, reminding him of the Empire Eighty-Eight and the way they'd fled Brockton Bay following the death of Max Anders. The last he'd heard, the gang had broken up and gone their separate ways, some being captured by heroes and some still at large.He wondered if anyone left on the loose even remembered him. It wasn't something he was anxious to explore. The idea of some section or other of the Empire Eighty-Eight grabbing him to hold up as the heir of the white-supremacy movement was positively nauseating, not least because he fervently disagreed with everything that they stood for.He was still musing over that when, with a shattering crash, the front door was kicked in. Two burly men burst into the apartment, pointing what he easily recognised as suppressed firearms. Theo didn't know who they were, but he certainly understood what
they were. Thugs were thugs, the world over.
Well, fuck. They found me anyway.
Wearily, he stood up from the sofa. "Okay, you got me. Don't hurt the girl, and I'll come quietly."He was wholly unprepared for the punch to the gut that left him gasping on the floor while one man stood over him, gun aimed downward. "Aisha Laborn?" asked the other one."Yeah, I'm Aisha," Riley said immediately. "Please don't hurt him. He didn't do anything.""Witness," the one who'd hit him grunted. "Seen our faces, and he can call the cops." He aimed the pistol at Theo's face; the muzzle aperture looked enormous."You don't want to do that in this city," Riley warned. "Atropos is the only one allowed to kill anyone. She's got a murder sense, and she can teleport." She said it with such surety that even Theo was almost convinced, though he was fairly
sure he hadn't heard about any such 'murder sense' before now."Atropos?" The thug's voice had real fear in it. "Fuck. Okay. We'll take him with."As Theo was manhandled to his feet and forced to walk out the door, his jumbled thoughts spun in all directions.
Who are these guys?
Why did Riley say she was Aisha?
God, I hope she knows what she's doing.
Because there was no way in hell he
was going to be able to get them out of this.<><>
Tori Heflin
Following Goddess into the main control centre and standing out of the way of the emergency workers who were dealing with the injured techs, Tori looked over the playback equipment. It seemed to be in good condition; nothing had fallen on it from the ceiling, and the power lights still glowed."Show me," Goddess ordered."At once, Highness." Tori hit the replay on the main recorder, and the large screen lit up. "The recording automatically began when we turned on the diverter."The image on the screen was a cell, ten feet by ten, with a heavy metal door on one side and lights glaring down from each corner to rid every inch of the cell of darkness. A cockroach would have been visible, no matter how it slunk about. There were no furnishings, no amenities; it was an empty concrete box. The only thing that broke the monotony of the walls were regularly spaced grilles, four inches square."The walls are six feet thick, the door one foot, barred from the other side." Goddess hadn't asked, but Tori felt the need to explain anyway. "Knockout gas is being pumped in via the grilles."The lights flickered briefly, then Atropos appeared in the middle of the cell. She turned faster than Tori would've given her credit, produced a shotgun from apparently out of nowhere, and fired six shots into the cell door; three down the left side and three down the right. Then she hammered her heel into the middle of the door hard enough to raise an echo in the camera audio.It didn't give, of course, but any normal door would've certainly been hard put to take that sort of treatment. Tori noted distantly that Atropos had placed the shots precisely where the hinges and lock of a normal door would've been.Reholstering the shotgun, Atropos pulled back her sleeve to reveal a sleek black mechanism wrapped around her left forearm. Flicking open a small panel, she tapped in a series of numbers, her fingers blurring over the tiny keypad. She flickered slightly, then reformed. Again she tried it, and again. Each time, she flickered but did not go anywhere."What is she doing?" demanded Goddess. "Surely she cannot be trying to leave the building. She does not know where there is a safe space!""She must be trying to teleport to the other side of the door, Highness." It was Tori's only guess. "When she shot the door and kicked it, it would've given her an idea of how thick it was."After the eighth attempt at teleporting out, Atropos slumped to the floor, but not before Tori spotted her left hand moving stealthily. When she moved the recording back slightly, it was possible to see that Atropos had stashed her shears in her waistband, behind her back. Then she fell unconscious, or apparently so."What's the longest anyone has withstood that gas?" Goddess asked."Five minutes," Tori replied. She'd looked that statistic up herself. As it was, she knew that the damage in the other room had been due to the multiple escape attempts. Once more, and Atropos may have overwhelmed the diverter altogether, and been free to teleport wherever she wished."Wait for ten minutes, then go in wearing armour." Goddess glared at the girl on the screen. "I've poured far too many resources into getting her under my power. Take no chances with her.""I won't, Highness." Tori looked at the screen again, where the black-clad girl was still slumped on the floor. She tried to feel satisfaction at a job well done, but instead all she felt was a creeping disquiet.
I truly hope this will not blow up in our faces.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
Goddess"Highness, she awakens.""Good." Bianca smiled and settled herself into the throne that she'd had placed in front of the chair holding Atropos, with the low table between them. The chair was made of solid steel, with metal clamps holding Atropos firmly in place. Even if the black-clad assassin could fly (there had been no report of that) the chair was bolted to the floor; she would go nowhere and do nothing without Bianca's permission.The throne, of course, was higher than the chair. It was necessary that Atropos knew who was in charge right from the beginning. Adjacent to this was the fact that they'd removed her hat and mask; those two accessories lay alongside the weapons on the table. Atropos would have nothing to hide behind, when speaking to her Goddess.The girl stirred, then she raised her head, shaking it slightly to get her long black curls out of her face. She flicked a glance from side to side, then seemed to focus on Bianca. "Ah," she said. "The idiot of the week. Who are you, where am I, and do you honestly think you're going to get out of this alive?"Her voice was strong and confident, but Bianca felt not even a twinge of danger from her. "You may call me Goddess," she replied suavely. "You have been brought to my presence because I have need of your talents. Your authorities called this world Earth Shin, to make it subordinate to their Earth Bet, but make no mistake; this is the Supreme Earth, and it will rule over all.
I
will rule over all.""Big words," Atropos retorted. "Bastard Son had big ideas, too. You might want to think about what I did to him, and reconsider your life goals in the process. Release me now, and I might think about letting you go with a warning."Bianca wasn't sure who Bastard Son was, or had been, but she knew enough not to show weakness by acknowledging ignorance of a reference. Instead, she laughed out loud, letting it peal through the room. Off to either side, she heard her Court take up the laughter, mocking the arrogant assassin in their midst."You are clearly delusional," she said, holding up a hand to cut off the laughter. "I brought you here to serve
my
will, and that's what you will do.""Nobody has yet forced me to do a damn thing I didn't want to do." Atropos' gaze bored into Bianca's. "I promise you, you will regret dragging me here. My good friend Mr Pump Action Shotgun has a way of redefining Kneecaps as a Privilege. I'm pretty sure he can extend that to Shins as well."The continued defiance was irritating. To see Goddess, to hear her voice, was to be enthralled by her. However, Bianca had planned ahead for this very thing, given the rumours that Atropos was able to kill Master effects. "If you will not pay heed to me, see what else is at stake." She gestured, causing the three screens to lower from the ceiling and power up.Atropos raised her eyes. Bianca could not see the screens from her angle, but she knew what was there. It had taken her literally millions in bribes, as well as a judicious application of her influence, to have the three hostages spirited through the White Rock portal at the appropriate time. From all accounts, two of the three were people Atropos was most likely to have a connection with.The men who had taken them had come through as well, expecting to be well-paid for their efforts. However, she had not forgotten the insult of their demanding higher pay in the first place, so they were now in chains, awaiting her (dis)pleasure. She would get to them in time. Atropos was a higher priority."Why?" Atropos' tone could have shaved steel. "They're
kids.
Why bring them into this?"Bianca smiled beatifically. That was exactly the reaction she'd been angling for. "Emma Barnes is the leader of your cult, while Aisha Laborn is the head of your fan club. Theo Anders is apparently also under your care, so he is here as well. Each of them is at a hidden location around the world, far separated from each other. They are guarded every hour of the day. If I give the order, the guards will kill them before you can get to them. The guards also wear harnesses with heart rate monitors and bombs, so if they are killed, the killer also dies." She steepled her fingers and looked over Atropos at them. "Now, either dispense with this pointless defiance or I will order one of them killed.
And you will have to choose which one.""I see." Atropos flicked her eyes over each of the monitors. "You've made your point. Who do you need me to kill?"Bianca gestured, and the monitors retracted toward the ceiling once more. "That's more like it. I have been striving to unite this world under one government, one rule, for some time now. There are those who are ungrateful and short-sighted enough to resist the right and proper rule of the powered over the unpowered. Find these resistance cells and kill the leaders for me, and not only will your minions be unharmed, but I will also reward you appropriately for your service to my name.""And I get my weapons and teleporter for this?" Atropos pointed with one finger at the items on the low table. When they'd searched her, they'd found the shears (of course) as well as the pistol and several magazines of ammunition for it, the pump-action shotgun and a box of ammo for
it, the teleporter (a most fascinating device), and a ballpoint pen in her shirt pocket.They'd let her keep the pen."Of course you do." Bianca made a throwaway gesture. "Nothing you have there will allow you to kill me, and if you try, one of your hostages will die. If you harm a member of my Court, one of your hostages loses a hand. You will also be wearing a body-camera, which will be broadcasting back here in real time. Interrupt the broadcast in any way, and … well, you know what will happen."Atropos waved the same finger, this being about the only thing she could do with it. "Point of note. When I teleport, it's likely to take a few seconds to reconnect to the cell phone network or satellite network, or however it broadcasts. No punishing the hostages for the weaknesses of your system.""Ah." Bianca glanced sideways at Tori, who nodded fractionally. Atropos wasn't lying then. "I knew that. We will of course take that into account. Was there anything else?""Just one thing. Harm the hostages for shits and giggles, and the deal's off. But leave them alone, and I'll shoot those Resistance guys in the head all day long."Bianca nodded. "Your terms are acceptable. You may commence your task to solidify my position as supreme ruler of this world." Using her telekinesis, she opened the metal clamps securing Atropos to the chair."Trust me, by the time I'm done here, the name of the Goddess will be the most celebrated one across the face of this world. They'll probably declare a public holiday." Atropos stood and shook out her wrists, then proceeded to re-arm herself with her private arsenal. Last of all, she slid the teleporter onto her arm and secured it in place before looking up at Bianca. "You mentioned something about a body-camera?""Yes." Bianca gestured for the camera to be produced. Such things were not her job. Her job was to order them to happen.The camera was duly brought forth by one of the many faceless minions whose sole function was to carry out her wishes. Atropos accepted it and attached it to the front of her long-coat with an expertise that suggested she'd done this before. "Well, then," she said, picking up her mask and hat, "there's one thing I need, and one thing I have to do, before I go ensure your rightful place in history.""And what might those be?" Atropos might have been cooperative since the hostages were revealed, and there may have been no danger signals from her, but Bianca's patience only stretched so far."Well, first I need a notepad so I can leave my calling card. Second, I'm hungry." Atropos patted her stomach. "Point me at the kitchens, I'll fix myself a snack, and then I'll be on my way."Bianca was tempted to deny her the request, but her tone was polite and reasonable. She hadn't even argued about the body-camera. "Very well. Show her to the kitchens and bring her a notepad." Giving Atropos a hard stare to show her who was boss, she added, "Fifteen minutes. No more.""Not a problem." Atropos' tone was entirely agreeable. "That's all the time I'll need."
<><>
Miss MedicRiley put on her best puppy-dog eyes. Aisha had been schooling her in the art, and sometimes she could even wheedle things out of Brian using them. Theo, of course, had been a pushover from the start, but that was just the way he was.She liked Theo, because he was a nice guy and he was super cuddly. Unfortunately, 'nice' wasn't likely to win him many points as a kidnap victim (and 'cuddly' none at all), so she hoped he could stay out of trouble until she could come save him. Or Atropos did, whichever happened first."Y-you're not going to hurt me, are you?" she quavered, giving her lower lip a good tremble.The guard glowered down at her. "Will if I have to, so sit down and shut up," he growled in oddly accented English. He didn't seem amenable to the idea that people shouldn't hurt children, so she shifted him in her mind from 'just following orders' to 'not a nice man'. This gave her a few more options.As she obediently sat down on the thin mattress that had been supplied for her, she mentally categorised the weapons she'd seen on him: a heavy calibre pistol (not useful for her because she'd never had the training and it would knock her on her ass) and a large knife (definitely useful). The heavy harness he wore was something else altogether; she was fairly certain that it held a heart monitor linked to (this was a guess) a bomb big enough to destroy the room they were in.She also had one other thing that her kidnappers apparently didn't know about. Her memories of being Bonesaw were faded at best, and she was extremely reluctant to delve into them, but Bonesaw
had
known how to deal with violent people.She just had to hope that there was a way back for her after all this was over and done.
<><>
TheoThe room wasn't large, and there was just one chair. Miserable, Theo sat curled up on the thin mattress, trying not to attract the attention of the guard. His stomach ached from being punched; he was pretty sure there was a bruise there now.He still had no idea what was going on, but the guard's attitude was terrifying. Theo knew killers, and this man was both a killer and a fanatic (he knew those, too). If he were ordered to kill Theo with the heavy pistol or the brutal-looking knife, he would do it.I hope Riley's okay.
She was so small and vulnerable, and his heart ached with worry about her.The door opened and someone walked in. Or rather, something
walked in. It looked like a seven-foot-tall man, if said man was constructed of thick slabs of steel with molten metal oozing out from between the gaps. Drops splattered on the floor, but vanished without a trace. Over his right shoulder hovered a tiny ball that appeared to be composed of pure light."Hey, kid," said the newcomer. "You look like you're in a bit of a bind there."Theo stared at the guard, who seemed to be frozen in place. "What's going on? I don't understand
anything
that's happening!""Okay, you want the big picture or the small picture?" The apparition came to the centre of the room and looked down at him, ignoring the guard. More drops of molten metal utterly failed to make any kind of mark on the wooden floorboards."Um, everything? And is Riley okay?" Theo looked at the guard again; he still hadn't moved.The metal man tilted his head slightly to the side, as though listening to something. "Chirurgeon's just fine. Let's concentrate on you. You can call me Foundry. Big picture, you've been kidnapped to be used as a hostage by a jumped-up six-parter from another world, who wants to make Ending do what he's told. Really bad move, if you ask me. Ending doesn't take orders, he
gives
them. Small picture, Ending's voluntold me to give you a nice easy entry into getting powers, like he did with Queen Administrator. So, here we are."Theo blinked. About ninety percent of what Foundry had just said had gone over his head. He understood 'hostage', and that was about it. "What?"Foundry sighed. "I've been told to keep you safe. Now, do you have any ideas how powers work?"Up until that moment, Theo had thought he did. Faced with a direct question, he wasn't so sure. "Probably not.""Good answer. So, you know how your grandfather, your aunt and your father all had similar-type powers, creating metal out of nothing?"Theo wasn't stupid. Sometimes he just needed to get a good run-up to grasp a concept. The earlier mention of 'easy entry into powers' gave him the hint. "You're the power," he guessed. "The personification or whatever.""Bingo." Foundry appeared to smile. "I've been hanging around to see if you'd hit a trigger point. Normally you wouldn't quite be there yet, but rules are made to be ignored. Also normally, this thing we're doing wouldn't even be happening. I'd just slam-dunk you with powers that
nearly
fixed all your problems, then sit back with popcorn, watching you get yourself in and out of trouble.""But that's not what's happening now, is it?" Theo was starting to figure it out. "This 'Ending' is making you be nice to me, and … what? Ask me what actual powers I want?""Got it in one. I have to say, I'm not totally sure about this, but QA seems to be having a ball with it, so let's try something new. Hit me. What do you want? It's got to have something to do with metal or other hard stuff. Creating it, destroying it, or whatever."Theo frowned. "Before I commit myself … what's that?" He pointed at the ball of light over Foundry's shoulder."Oh, that's Plasma. She provided a ping, a fragment of her shard. You spent a lot of time around her, so that rubbed off on me."Right,
he thought.
Kayden.
Wow, okay. What can I do with this?"Okay," he said out loud, thinking as fast as he could. "What are the limits of what I can create? Can I make something that's the same every time, but has moving parts?"Foundry looked thoughtful. "So long as it's made out of metal … sure, I guess. What did you have in mind?"Theo put up a finger. "Hadn't finished. How about electronics?""A little trickier, but so long as it isn't all electronics, I can't see a problem. We'll borrow a tiny spark from Plasma to make it work. What are you thinking about, kid?""A couple of more things. When I create it, can I add accessories, so long as I detail them right now? And anything I create, I can then un-create, right?""I can't see a problem with any of that." Foundry was starting to look extremely dubious. "Look, before we go any further, just tell me what you've got in mind, and I'll tell you if it's possible."So Theo told him.
<><>
Emma"You should be asking for forgiveness right at this moment," Emma told her captor sternly. "Our Lady in Darkness does not suffer fools gladly. I was one such fool, once upon a time. Now I am Twice-Warned, and I have learned better.""Will you just
shut up?" groaned the guard. "I
get
it, you love Atropos, but you don't have to keep harping on about it all the time. She's
your
world's problem, not
ours.""If I am here, then She is here as well." Emma was quietly confident of that fact. "And She has forbidden violence against us. Those violating Her edicts learn very quickly why they should not."Over a year ago, finding herself wanting, she'd become the sort of person Sophia would approve of. That had been a mistake. Following Sophia's death, she'd found herself adrift without wind or rudder. It was only with the destruction of the Simurgh that her need to follow
someone
had crystallised again, and she'd plunged her entire identity into what she believed Atropos would approve of.Even the rules that Atropos had laid down had failed to puncture her faith. While other cults she'd heard of gleefully encouraged their followers to commit all sorts of atrocities, Atropos had told hers to … be good people. To not kill even those who deserved it.Some had left, grumbling that this was not as they'd expected things to be. Despite her own tiny doubts mounting up, Emma and the other faithful of their Lady in Darkness had remained, keeping faith and doing their good deeds; as She had put it, solving more problems than they caused. Through all this, ignoring the questions that whispered themselves to her late at night, Emma's faith had remained unwavering.Never did she doubt, never
would
she doubt Atropos' right to judge and End the bad people of the world. Atropos was, and rightfully so, a terrifying presence in the city, in Emma's life.Emma's misgivings were more subtle than that: did Atropos need the cult at all, and (more importantly) did Emma truly need to subsume her personality into the cult in order to gain Taylor's approval?With the latest conversation they'd had, the answers seemed more and more to be … 'no'. Atropos' attitude toward the cult had always been exasperated tolerance, and she seemed to want people to be good rather than to worship her.Atropos' admission that she didn't always know what was going to happen was what had brought on the tipping point; not because of any perceived 'feet of clay', as Anne had put it, but because she had freely admitted it. Atropos
didn't care
if those around her didn't see her as all-knowing. To put it crudely, she didn't give a fuck. Sophia had
absolutely
given a fuck about never being seen to lose.Could I do that?
Emma had asked herself.
Could I live my life as a good person and not care what people thought of me?
It was certainly something to ponder on.While she was working on that, she had her role as the leader of the Followers of Our Lady in Darkness to fulfil. She didn't see it as playing a part, because she truly believed that Atropos was the saviour that Brockton Bay needed (if not the one it wanted). More to the point, as she'd told Taylor, the cult (she was self-aware enough to admit that yes, it was indeed a cult) had reached the point that if she walked away now, it would keep going of its own volition, and probably veer off track into something ugly. She owed it to the Followers to maintain its original intent, and so she would stay on as leader.In the meantime, it was easy to slip back into the mindset, and if she could keep the guard irritated and focused on her, it would make things easier for Atropos to take him down when the time came.She wasn't much use as a hostage, but as a cult member, she was
really
good at annoying people.
<><>
BiancaFourteen minutes later, Atropos was ready to leave.The cooks reported (through Tori) that she had wandered all over the kitchen, peering into every cupboard and refrigerator, before assembling a simple meal and eating it right there at the counter. Now, with her mask and hat in place and looking much more like the semi-mythical slayer of the Simurgh than she had when she woke up, she stepped up in front of Bianca. "I can shoot them or I can capture them alive," she said. "Which would you prefer?"Bianca frowned. "You don't need to interrogate them to find out about their comrades, do you?""Nope. I can go straight to them." Atropos slid back her sleeve. "I don't need to ask a single question.""Then kill them." Bianca smiled cruelly. "If they don't want to live under my rule, they don't get to live.""Killshots it is." Flipping up the small panel, Atropos typed in a series of numbers then hit a button. She closed the panel and slid her sleeve down, then drew her pistol so smoothly that Bianca didn't even register it until it was out and ready to use. "And … go." A portal appeared before her and she stepped through it."Screen!" called out Bianca. At her command, a large flatscreen lowered itself from the ceiling, passing by the three that had been set up for Atropos' chair. It reached its lowest point at a comfortable viewing angle for her, and the picture came on.As Atropos had pointed out, the camera was only just now sending its signal out, and the fight was already well underway. She saw Atropos shoot one man in the chest, then kick a gun out of a woman's hand so hard that she spun around before shooting her in the back of the head. Bianca was no stranger to combat, but that was with powers. Atropos was fast and deadly, an exponent of lethal ballet.The last opponent fell. Atropos dropped to one knee beside him, the impact shaking the camera then the picture steadying on his head. Blood ran from the bullet-hole just behind his left ear as Atropos checked for a pulse. "Dead enough for you?" she asked out loud.As she turned, the camera panned over the rest of Atropos' victims. They hadn't stood a chance; she'd evidently appeared in the middle of them and started shooting immediately. Bianca bared her teeth in triumph as she gloated over the carnage.So fall all my enemies.There was a small table off to one side, and Atropos went to it, pulling out the notepad. Murmuring to herself, she scribbled a note on the pad. Bianca couldn't see the writing from the angle, but she could hear what Atropos was saying. "If you find these people, they were idiots for opposing Goddess. Signed, Atropos."Bianca smiled and nodded in agreement. That was a fine sentiment. It seemed that Atropos had decided to throw in her lot with the superior force after all.For the next minute or two, Atropos prowled around the makeshift base, apparently just exploring. Finally, she pulled back her sleeve, flicked up the panel, and typed in another set of coordinates. The portal appeared before her, and she stepped through it.The picture dropped out, of course, but Bianca was unfazed. Leaning back in her throne, she looked around at her Court. "Go, eat, if you wish. I'll be staying here. I enjoy seeing my enemies fall before their executioner."As the screen came back up, Atropos was once more cutting a swathe through Bianca's sworn enemies. Not a shot from her gun missed, and not a bullet from the rebels even came close to hitting her. Again, she checked a couple of pulses, the drop to the floor jarring the image, but every rebel she checked was dead.This, Bianca decided as Atropos began writing out her next calling card, was how wars
should
be fought.
<><>
Miss MedicIt was time, Riley decided, that something needed to be done. As Riley Laborn pretending to be Aisha Laborn, she was acting as though she believed all was well, but the deep-seated instincts she'd retained from her Bonesaw persona were telling her that all was assuredly
not
well. She hated having to listen to those instincts, but they were the thing most likely to keep her alive right now, at least until Atropos showed up.Whoever had kidnapped her and Theo was clearly willing to have her killed if they decided Atropos wasn't fulfilling whatever terms had been decided on. And if they went so far as to put a guard who was
absolutely
willing to kill a ten-year-old girl in the room with her, and equipped him with both a pistol and a knife
and
a bomb that would go off if his heart stopped, then they were more invested in 'fuck you' than peaceful cooperation. Which meant that Riley's best bet for survival was to use one of the several plans she'd already made to get past this guy, and go find Atropos herself.After all, why should
Atropos
have all the fun?Accordingly, she got up off the mattress. Breathing deeply, she began flexing her stomach muscles in a way designed to elicit a specific response. If she'd had more time, even the contents of a random kitchen cabinet, she could've been more elegant about this, but sometimes the simplest ways worked."Siddown," growled the guard as she approached him."I'm not feeling so good," she said, holding her stomach."Don't care." He went to shove her back.She gave her stomach muscles one more spasmodic clench, and projectile-vomited all over his feet and legs. The bacon, eggs and OJ she'd had that morning, plus the snacks she'd been eating while they watched cartoons, all came up, splattering the unwary guard with the horrible stinking mess. Bonesaw, she vaguely recalled, had once rejiggered her digestive system so she could project flesh-eating acids over a distance of yards, but that might've been overkill here.Even as he reacted with disgust, she brought up her fist into his groin then let go one last spray of puke into his face as he bent over in pain. Blinded, caught totally off guard, he never saw the knuckle strike that smashed into his larynx. He fell to his knees, choking; while she lacked the strength to actually destroy his ability to breathe, she'd certainly disrupted it. But he was still a big man and would recover shortly, so she grabbed his knife from its sheath and went to work.Involuntary surgery had been Bonesaw's thing, not hers. She always asked for permission first. But in this instance, she preferred to think in terms of 'pre-emptive self-defence'.And besides, she could always fix him again afterward.
<><>
TheoAfter Foundry left, Theo watched as the guard resumed moving. It was evident that his captor had no awareness of the visitation Theo had just experienced. He was also giving Theo the stink-eye and resting his hand on his gun butt more often.This guy
wanted
to hurt someone. He wanted to
kill
someone.But still, something within Theo wanted to give him one last chance. "So, hey," he offered. "You know Atropos is going to be looking for me, right?" He'd made the connection that if a powerset calling itself Foundry was all about metal, then one calling itself Ending would be all about killing, and Atropos fit that description better than anyone he knew.Why Riley would be connected with a name like Chirurgeon, he was still trying to figure out, but that wasn't something he was concerned with right now.The guard sneered at him. "She comes here, I'll blow her head off then I'll blow
your
head off. Or maybe I'll just gut you like a fish, fat boy."Oh. Right.
This guy wasn't from Bet. He'd heard of Atropos, but that was about it. It would be impossible to scare the guy if he didn't know enough to be scared. "Okay, then. If you're going to be like that, I'm just going to leave." He stood up from the mattress. "And if you're smart, you won't stand in my way."The 'fat boy' comment shouldn't have bothered him as much as it did. He'd heard worse, from worse people, ever since he was old enough to understand what it meant. But in the twelve hours he'd been in the Laborn household, nobody had mentioned his weight, or even made a disparaging comment toward him.Pulling out the pistol, the guard pointed it at him. "Sit your fat ass back down."Theo took a deep breath, and activated his power. Almost faster than the eye could see, the gleaming powered armour—silver with green highlights, to get as far away from the red-and-black of the Empire Eighty-Eight as he could—formed around him. It was solid but not chunky, and he could
feel
the various mechanisms whirring as it spun up to full power. The visor dropped into place, allowing him to see in infrared as well as normal light. Outlines formed around the guard and the pistol he held, informing Theo of the calibre, and the minimal chance it had of penetrating his armour. It also outlined the module on the guard's harness, notifying Theo that it was a bomb attached to a heart monitor.A moment later, the pistol went off. Theo felt the slight jar as the bullet ricocheted off his shoulder and buried itself in the ceiling. Even his hearing was protected; the noise was loud but not deafeningly so.Grabbing the pistol in two hands, the guard shakingly aimed at his visor. The chance of the bullet penetrating that wasn't much better, but it was a possibility, so Theo brought up his left arm in a defensive pose. A kite shield was generated from the forearm, extending upward and downward with a very cool
chnk-chnk-chnk-chnk
sound. Theo hadn't specified that, but apparently Foundry had figured out his likes and dislikes, and included it just for fun.The second shot bounced off the shield, just as it had his armour. Theo was done being a punching bag; he dismissed the shield and lunged forward, grabbing for the pistol. His steel-gauntleted hand closed around it, servos whined briefly, and there was a
crunch
of metal giving up the ghost. Opening his hand again, he dropped the mangled remains of the firearm to clatter on the floor."I
said," Theo reiterated, hearing his amplified voice echoing within the confines of the room, "I'm
leaving."
[A/N: The armour Theo is generating isn't quite as sleek as Iron Man's armour, but not as chunky as Ironmonger's. It also has options that have not been shown yet.]
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
BiancaThe picture on the screen cut out as Atropos stepped through yet another portal. Bianca looked around at the sound of a footstep, to find the black-clad killer standing alongside her throne. "That's every major resistance group calling-carded," Atropos observed. "You done? Because I am.""Not quite yet." Bianca stretched while remaining seated. The feeling of power was intoxicating. Having such a potent force as Atropos begging for her time was exactly as it should be, and exactly as it
would
be, until she had no further use for the killer. "My Court has yet to finish their evening meal. Once they return, we will send people to each of the bases that you hit, to find the names of every last surviving member of the resistance, to bring them to my presence. And
then,
you will stand alongside me as I address the world. They must learn that my rule is paramount, once and for all.""I didn't agree to that." Atropos' voice was mild.Bianca chuckled indulgently. "I don't give a shit if you did or not. It's what I'm saying is going to happen, so
it's going to happen.""You're making a mistake, but you do you." Atropos took off the camera and put it on the small table, then perched in the chair opposite Bianca, one booted foot up on the seat with her hands clasped around the shin. "So, I've got to ask. How do you see this playing out? Where's the win condition in all this for you? If you keep pushing people down and treating them like disposable tools, you have to know that sooner or later you're going to run into someone who can push back harder and sharper. What do you do then?""It'll never happen." Bianca shook her head to indicate just how wrong Atropos was in her assumptions. "I'm the most powerful person in the world. The strong rule; the weak submit. That's how it goes, in nature and society. There's nobody stronger than me, so I'm the one who gets to tell everyone else what to do.""I've run into that mindset before." Atropos' tone was dismissive. "Can't say I'm a fan. But let's go with that. Let's say your plan A is 'be stronger than everyone else'. What's your plan B? And plan C?""I don't
need
another plan!" Bianca wanted to grab Atropos and shake her, to force her to understand. "If my Mastery does not work, I use my telekinesis. If that doesn't work, I use my force field and boost one of my other powers. What part of 'I am the strongest' do you not yet understand?""And when you run into someone like me, you take hostages, is that it?" Atropos' voice was deceptively mild. "Because that's
so brave."Bianca flushed when she realised that members of the Court were filing back into the room and had heard the last retort. "I needed you for a task that you were specifically good at, so I went and got you." She sniffed. "Had I wanted to merely kill you, rather than bend you to my will, you would already be dead.""Hmm. Might not have been as easy as you think." Atropos let go of her leg and sat up in the chair. "Did you ever stop to think I might have
allowed
you to take me? So we'd end up here, in your throne room, with cameras trained on us all, broadcasting this to the world?""Really." Bianca let her scorn fill her words. "My people are loyal to
me. They would not activate the cameras, nor begin a broadcast, unless I gave the word. And I have not given the word.""You sure about that?" Atropos' shears were suddenly in her hand. She started twirling them back and forth in a near-hypnotic pattern.Bianca stared at her, then up at the cameras arrayed around the room. They should have been dead and dark, but tiny red lights glared from each and every one. "What's happening?" she shouted. "Who turned on the cameras?""Not the question you should be asking." Atropos hadn't moved, save to keep twirling the shears back and forth, back and forth.Bianca pointed directly at the nearest camera, so the person controlling it would have no choice but to know who she was addressing. "Turn the cameras off! At once!""And that wasn't even a question. You're really missing the point, here." Twirl, twirl. Back and forth, back and forth. The polished metal glittered in the bright lights of the room.With a surge of anger, Bianca decided to make her will known in no uncertain terms. The red lights hadn't winked off, so it was time for stronger measures. Glaring at the camera, she brought all her telekinesis to bear on it, so it would rip free of its mounting.
That
would show Atropos who was in charge.Absolutely nothing happened.Bianca blinked.
That
wasn't right. She poured all the enhanced power into it that she could, and tried again.The camera continued to exist unharmed, undeterred by her attempts to destroy it."And your
next
question should be, 'what happened to my telekinesis', right?" Atropos gestured encouragingly with her free hand. "Come on. You can do this. Figure it out."Bianca came to her feet as the mocking tone ignited an epiphany in her mind. "You!" she shouted, pointing accusingly at Atropos. "You
did this!" She wasn't quite sure what Atropos had done, or how she'd done it, but it had to be her.Slowly, derisively, Atropos clapped as she stood up as well; the shears went away after one last twirl. "I knew you could get there. Yeah, I did it. Those people running the cameras? Resistance. I teleported them in there while we were sitting and talking. They're, uh, not quite as dead as I led you to believe.""But you
shot
them!" Bianca was having trouble adjusting to what Atropos was telling her. Was this all some gigantic trick? Was Atropos trying to con her into surrendering? "I
saw
it!"Suddenly, Atropos was holding a pistol in one hand and a ballpoint pen in the other. The pen began twirling between her fingers like a living thing. "Yeah, I did, but I'd already modified my ammunition so it barely punctured flesh, and I always shot to hit bone. Also, if you strike just right with the blunt end of a pen, you can semi-paralyse the diaphragm, leaving the victim unable to move. That's what I was doing to everyone nearby before the picture came back on after each jump. It wears off after a few minutes, but in the meantime, especially if I've shot them, they look really dead. The ones I had to shoot afterward, I did the same to them while pretending to check their pulses. Then I left calling cards with instructions to wait for a portal to open." She gestured, making the pen and pistol vanish again. "Meanwhile, you saw exactly what you wanted to see."
<><>
Atropos"But what did you do to my telekinesis?" demanded Goddess. "My force field? What have you done to
me? Did you hypnotise me, to make me think I was weak? Tell me!""Hah, no." I grinned under the mask. "You never looked up Bastard Son, did you? If you'd asked the idiots you've got in the dungeon, they'd tell you that I killed his powers then let his previous followers chase him down.
And you let me loose in the kitchens. I found what you'd be eating for your evening meal, and … added a little extra prep. Your Court," I gestured to the ex-capes staring at me like chickens at a cobra, "have permanently lost all access to their powers. Which means the only remaining member of your cluster … is you.""I still have my power!" There was an air of desperation in her voice, as though she was trying to convince herself that this was enough. Her head came up then, and her lip curled in triumph. "And I have your hostages! Reverse it all now and kill those broadcasting, or they die!"I knew Riley and Theo were okay, but even before Bianca gave the order, I knew Emma was in danger. Her guard was jumping the gun. Flipping open the panel, I typed in the coordinates and hit the button.
<><>
Emma"Repent," Emma urged. "Prostrate yourself before Our Lady in Darkness, and she will spare you.""Shut up, will you?" The guard turned to look at the TV screen mounted on the wall. Dark and blank until now, it showed an image of a woman clad in blue and white facing off against Atropos. The woman looked arrogant and confident, while Atropos was impassive as ever. "I want to watch this.""So, I've got to ask." Atropos sounded almost bored. "How do you see this playing out? Where's the win condition in all this for you?"Emma felt a grin stealing across her face. Atropos never asked questions she didn't know the answer to. When the woman in blue stated boldly that she got to tell everyone what to do because she was stronger, Emma shook her head. It was evident that she'd never heard of Sophia's fate. As the conversation progressed, Emma became more and more certain that the woman in blue had no idea what was happening, and Atropos knew more than she was letting on.And then things started going wrong, for a very specific definition of the word. By now, Emma was well acquainted with Atropos' specific brand of chaos, so she recognised the glorious cascade of mishaps for what it was. The guard, on the other hand, seemed to lack the pattern recognition to understand what was going on, and kept muttering that his 'goddess' would defeat the unbeliever.It was only when Atropos patiently explained how she'd subverted Goddess' entire plan, as well as her regime, that the penny finally dropped for the guard. Turning to Emma, he pointed at the screen. "Tell me that she lies! Tell me that she cannot have done what she says!""Haven't you heard a word I've been saying?" Emma rolled her eyes. "Atropos saw your 'goddess' coming a mile away. She's done, and you're done. Give up now, and I'll—whoa!" As the guard pulled his knife and advanced menacingly on her, Emma backed away. "Trust me, you do
not
want to do this!""I serve the will of my Goddess." The gleam of light on the steadily weaving blade made the guard's resolute tone even creepier than it would normally have been. "If her decree means that I die, then I die. But you will die first."Emma tried ducking one way, then another, but the bastard had arms like a gorilla on steroids, and he inexorably backed her into the corner.
Okay, Taylor, any second now.Nothing happened, save that the blade drew back, preparatory for a slash or a stab; Emma didn't know which, but she knew it would be bad, and she didn't want either one to happen. Adrenaline flushed through her body, making the movements seem to be in slow motion.
Atropos! Come on! Quit screwing around!The blade came in, lethally gleaming. Terror flooded through her.
Our Lady in Darkness, I beseech you! Help me!Suddenly, she fell backward as a hand hauled on her shoulder, the knife-point barely pricking the skin of her stomach before it lost contact again. Sprawling on her back in the middle of a large room, she looked up as her Lady in Darkness levelled a shotgun at the portal she'd just fallen through. The shotgun boomed, sending echoes throughout the room, then the portal vanished.
<><>
AtroposStepping to Emma's side, I reached down to help her up. "You okay?" I asked."I live or die at Your whim, my Lady," she replied dreamily as she came to her feet, and I snapped my head around to stare at her. For a moment I wondered if she'd hit her head and gotten a concussion, then I recognised the look in her eyes.Great. One more thing I can lay at the feet of this idiot. I just about had Emma snapped out of it, and now we're right back where we started."Well, let's work on living for the time being, okay?" I levelled the shotgun at Goddess, who was smirking openly at me. "As for you, do you honestly think you've won? The word's going out. Resistance will be flooding into the city. Your Master effect is
not
going to hold them at bay.""I forced you to choose," she exulted with a cruel little smile. "You may overcome me, but you will forever remember and rue the day that you condemned two of your own to death to save a third. Is she truly worth it?""Emma?" I didn't look away from Goddess. "You can ask her yourself. She'll probably tell you that she's not. But you're working under a misapprehension here. You think the other two hostages are dead?""How could they not be?" Bianca laughed harshly; her eyes gleaming with malice. "The child and the boy, murdered by your action, if not by your hand. Do you think they hated you for not saving them while they begged for their lives?""Nope. Because I know something you don't." I put the shotgun away. "You see, your low-rent thugs screwed up big-time. The kid they grabbed? That wasn't Aisha. They grabbed her cousin Riley. Better known as Miss Medic." I glanced across at Emma. "You didn't hear that.""I hear and see nothing that my Lady in Darkness wishes me not to," Emma promised."And so?" asked Goddess. "What is a healer to do against a gun and a knife?""You'd be surprised." I snapped my fingers, and the portal formed near me. A moment later, the thug who'd been guarding Riley stepped through, with Riley riding on his shoulders. His head was mostly shaven, and she had her fingertips inserted into glove-like ports in his skull. The portal closed behind them as she stared around. "Hi, Riley," I said. "You doing okay?""Uh, yeah." She looked guiltily down at the guy she was puppeteering. "I can fix him, honest. I swear, I'll put him right back the way he was.""Don't sweat it," I said. "Sometimes, you gotta do what you gotta do. We're still waiting on Theo, anyway." I tilted my head as a distant thunder echoed from outside. "And here he comes now."I was pretty sure Theo just wanted to blast his way in through the roof once he figured out where we were, but he restrained himself enough to find an entrance. The doors were shut, but I heard a
whooom
that marked their demise. Then he came onward, alternately walking and flying until he reached the room we were in. He drifted across the floor about ten feet up with jets flaring from the backs of his legs, then came in for a reasonably smooth landing, metal boots clanking onto the floor. The flight-jets retracted into the legs once he was at rest, in a way that would've made Armsmaster reach for a drawing board. In his hands was a massive rifle-like weapon that looked like it could bring down low-flying aircraft."Riley, you're okay," he said with evident relief, his suit amplifying his voice to a solid baritone. "I was really worried." He paused, staring at her. "Wait, are you a cape?""Long story." She grinned at him. "I'm really glad you're okay too.""Nice suit," I said admiringly. "The plasma cannon looks pretty cool as well." It was at least four feet long, with glowing lines along the barrel. I could see the influence of several science-fiction artists in it."Thanks," he said automatically. "Did you know what was going to happen?""Not all of it, not beforehand, but enough to make preparations." I nodded toward Goddess. "Meet the idiot who thought she could put one over on us. You might call her the local version of Hitler, complete with 'master race' ideology.""You!" snapped Goddess, and I was pretty sure she was exerting her Master ability as hard as she could. "Kill Atropos! Now! You will be greatly rewarded!"The plasma cannon, which had been pointing at the roof, snapped down into line. As the two-inch-wide muzzle aimed directly at Goddess' head, the lines on either side of the barrel glowed a brighter and brighter orange until they were almost white. At the same time, a concomitant hum rose from the weapon."Go ahead," Theo said, his voice loaded with quiet menace. "Give me another order. Please.""At ease, Theo." I strolled forward, pushing the immense gun aside with one finger. "I think she's got the message. Now for mine. Release your Mastery on everyone. Now.""Or what?" she sneered. For someone who could die at any moment, she had a great line in bravado, though I suspected a large chunk of it was because she simply didn't believe we'd kill her.Which made her an idiot of the highest degree, but I already knew that part.I drew my shotgun. "You may recall I mentioned how Shins are now a privilege? This morning you had three. Now you have two. Do what I say, or that number is going to go all the way to zero.""And I
won't
fix you up," Riley added, from her perch atop her current ride. "This guy said a lot of very mean things to me, and I'm pretty sure they came from you.""You wouldn't—" Goddess began. I didn't let her finish. The word 'dare' went unsaid as I fired the shotgun, blowing her left tibia clear in half and fracturing the fibula. Her leg was blown out from under her and she spun around, face-planting on the marble floor tiles. I'd made sure not to hit any major blood vessels, but there was still a mess on the floor as she screamed and writhed and puked in agony. From the smell of it, she'd soiled herself, too.It wasn't a pretty sight, and the cameras were catching
everything."Riley?" I asked. "Make her lucid, at least?""I can do that, sure." Riley made her man-puppet kneel down, then she hopped off and trotted over to where Goddess was making an inelegant spectacle of herself. "Theo, help me hold her still?""Sure." Theo made the plasma rifle vanish—in itself a neat trick—and leaned down. One metallic hand held Goddess' upper body still, and the other kept her leg immobile while Riley worked her magic. In a remarkably short time, she had the bleeding under control and Goddess was blinking up at me, at least able to focus."So," I said, racking the shotgun with supreme menace. "Do you honestly think I won't deprive you of your last Shin?"It took her all of half a second to make that call. "N-no," she quavered, cringing away from me."Good." I aimed the gun at her one remaining pristine leg. "So, as I was saying, release every last one of your slaves, and you get to keep it.""But … the mob … they'll tear me to pieces." She looked around wildly for a way out. Unfortunately, she had nowhere to go. She barely had a leg to stand on, as the saying went."You should really have thought of that before you started all this. I mean, I
did
warn you.""No, you didn't!" she blurted. "You gave me no chances at all!"I sighed. "I asked you how you thought you were going to survive this. I told you that you'd regret it. I even explained that I'd bring you down the same way I did with Bastard Son. I gave you every warning possible. Now release them. I'm not going to ask again."The memory of the recent pain shone darkly in her eyes as she relaxed her power. I felt the subtle pressure stop, and all around me the Court shifted slightly. My threatscape also altered; every last enthralled member of the population watching this on their TVs ceased to think of me in the unkindest of terms, and shifted their ire to the one who had Mastered them."Alright then." I holstered the shotgun and drew my shears; at the same time, I palmed the container of power-nullification gel that I'd used to dose the food in the kitchens, and touched up the blades of the shears with it.Goddess stared up at me as I loomed over her. "What are you going to do with—ow!" She cowered back, clutching at the cut I'd inflicted on her hand. "I did what you told me to! Why did you do that?""I killed Bastard Son's powers." Twirling the shears to flick the blood off them, I re-sheathed them. "Weren't you listening? Did you honestly think I wasn't going to do the same to you?""You didn't have to blow my leg off!" she screeched."Yeah, I did." I grinned, though she couldn't see it. "You needed taking down a peg or two." Turning, I addressed the cameras. "Citizens of Earth Shin! As you can see, your self-styled Goddess has been brought low. In case you were unaware of who I am and where I'm from; I'm Atropos, from Earth Bet. She brought me here to eradicate the last of the resistance cells fighting for your freedom, but I had other ideas.""So, what are you going to do now?" called out one of the ex-servants, who were currently eyeing the ex-Court in a very unfriendly fashion. "Will you be taking the throne in her place? Ruling us as she did?"I shook my head. "Nope. I will be leaving very shortly, and taking my friends with me, just as soon as their belongings are returned to them. What you do from here on in is up to you, but I strongly encourage you to rebuild your governments with the aim of promoting equality
and equity
for all. Nobody, cape or otherwise, should be a second-class citizen.""They forced rule over us!" shouted another onlooker, boosted by shouts of agreement around him. "Why should we not do the same to them?"I let a harsh note creep into my tone. "Because that will just guarantee that the friction between you will continue forever. They will push back, just as you are pushing back now.""And we will keep them down forever!" It was the same man. "We have the numbers, and they no longer have
her!""No, you won't!" I pointed at him. "Capes come from
you! Capes come from
humanity! What would you do if laws were written making capes into second-class citizens, and then
the very next day, you got powers? Would you meekly submit to the rules
you helped write, or would you pretend to be normal? Pretend not to have powers? Because powers
will come out! When your friends and neighbours turn against you because you're one of the
enemy
now, do you give yourself up? Do you run away? Do you join the other new capes who are
also
unjustly accused, and fight back?
Do you start this whole conflict all over again?"Silence greeted my words. I paused for a beat, then gestured at the defeated Goddess. "She thought she could build a dictatorship and rule the world, oppressing all below her. Normally I wouldn't care
what
you do with yourselves, but you have access to Earth Bet. So if anyone tries to start a war that might spill over into my world, or even worse, just straight-up tries to invade us …
I will be back.
Equality and trade gets you a damn sight further than oppression and war."I stopped talking, and waited. Nobody seemed willing to challenge me on what I'd said, and in just a few moments, one of the ex-servants dashed up to me with three small cloth bags. In them were two phones (I guessed Theo's and Riley's), some incidentals, and a bunch of Goth-style jewellery. There were no prizes for guessing who that bag belonged to.While we'd been waiting for this, Riley had been reversing the surgery she'd done on the mook who'd ended up as her personal transport. He wasn't pretty by the time she finished, but that was fine: he hadn't been pretty to start with."Okay," she said, wiping her hands off. "I'm done. We can go now.""Excellent." I nodded at Theo. "Might want to de-armour, so you don't draw any attention when we go back through.""Okay." One piece at a time, his armour went away to wherever he kept it, leaving him standing barefoot on the marble palace tiles. Riley immediately hugged him, and he returned the embrace."Wait!" Goddess—Bianca, now that she was entirely without her powers—struggled up onto one elbow. "You
lied
to me! You said the name of Goddess would be celebrated across the world! You said there would be a public holiday! You
said!" For someone facing imminent death from the mob that she'd enslaved—an entirely appropriate death, in my opinion—she sounded quite unhappy at the perceived slight."No, I didn't." I turned to face her. "I'm pretty sure there'll be a public holiday to mark the occasion of getting rid of you. And maybe you've forgotten, but Atropos is
also
the name of a goddess.""Take me with you!" Her eyes were wide with desperation, and she strained to pull herself up by the arm of her raised throne. "I'm begging you!""Sorry, you don't have a valid passport. But hey, how's that 'being stronger than everyone else' thing working out for you right now?" I touched the brim of my hat. "Toodles."The portal formed in front of us; Riley, used to this, led the way, with Theo right behind her. Emma needed no urging to follow on, and I brought up the rear. The last I saw of Goddess was the look of abject terror on her face as more and more enraged commoners flooded into the throne room.Not my monkeys, not my circus.
<><>
TheoFollowing Riley, Theo stepped out onto the footpath outside what he belatedly recognised as the apartment block he was now sharing with Riley, Brian and Aisha. Overhead, the sun seemed to be showing mid-afternoon. "Wow, we're home," Riley said. "That's it? I mean … that's
it?" She stared at Atropos apprehensively. "What I did back there …""You did what you had to." Atropos put her hand on the shorter girl's shoulder. "I will never condemn anyone for defending themselves. If you'd gone all cackling and power-mad, I would've had words to say, but you pulled yourself back.""Oh." Riley blinked. "Thanks. I … I hadn't considered it that way."Atropos nodded. "Just remember: now you know you
can
keep yourself in check, it's up to you to do that for yourself.""I will." Riley's eyes were shining. "I promise. Thank you.""I have faith in you." Atropos gestured at the building. "You two should get inside. Brian and Aisha will be worried, and Director Renick won't be much better off. Losing a Ward on his second day as Director? Not a great start."Theo raised his hand. "Should I, uh, join …?""That's up to you," Atropos advised him. "Though you could do a lot worse. Some of the Wards are transferring out of town, so there'll be more chances for one-on-one training from the heroes that are staying behind.""I'll help!" Riley declared. "C'mon, Theo. Let's go!"He let her grab his arm and drag him inside. Once they were in the elevator, she turned to him. "Okay, spill. How did you Tinker up that armour so fast? Where did it go? How did you even
do
that?""Whoa, whoa, wait," he protested, putting his hands up. "I don't want to have to explain all this twice over, so how about you go first? How long have
you
been a cape?"Oddly, she clasped one arm with the other and looked off to the side. "Since … um, since before I started living with Brian and Aisha."There was something going on there, but he didn't care much about the details. "So you're …" There was only one candidate for the skills he'd seen Riley use. "Miss Medic, right?" Then another piece of the puzzle fell into place, and he facepalmed. "Argh, and Brian's Tenebrae. Why didn't I see that? I
grew up
in a cape household!""Yeah, but shush. Nobody's supposed to know that."There was one more thing he needed to know. "So, is Aisha …?""Nope." Riley grinned suddenly as the elevator doors opened. "Boy, is
she
gonna be mad at you. You just
got
here."
And you've already got powers,
she didn't have to say."I didn't
mean
to!" he protested, but he didn't resist as she dragged him out of the elevator and along the corridor. "It just
happened!""Yeah, good luck explaining that to her." They stopped in front of the door, which seemed to be newly repaired. "Okay, is my key in here?" Riley started digging into the bag Atropos had given her."Look, I'll just knock." Theo took a deep breath, and rapped on the door. "Are they even—"The word 'home' was never uttered as the door was yanked open. Brian stood there, anxiety written all over his features. "Has there been any—" The look of shock transforming to delight on his face was something Theo would always remember. "Aisha!" he yelled, even as he scooped up Riley and held her tight. "They're home! They're back! They're
here!""They're what?" Aisha was suddenly in Theo's face, then she grabbed him and held him tight. "C'mere, you big lug! Where've you
been? We've been worried sick!"Where Riley's first hug hadn't been quite enough to make him cry, Aisha's unabashed expression of affection did the trick. Tears cascaded down his cheeks as she dragged him inside, holding him all the while. She only let go to grab Riley and give her an even more intense hug, while Brian took the opportunity to subject Theo to a back-cracking squeeze that left him decidedly short of breath."Okay, what the hell
happened?" asked Aisha, a few minutes later. Brian was on the phone to Ms Brown, passing on the news with as much excitement as he ever showed. "We came back to find the door kicked in and you two gone. The PRT, Armsmaster, cops with sniffer dogs,
everyone's been through here. Where did you go, what happened, and how did you get back?"Theo and Riley shared a glance with each other, and Riley began to giggle. "You are honestly not going to believe it," Theo warned."Try me," Aisha challenged. Theo saw that Brian was also listening in."So, a power-mad despot from an alternate Earth managed to concoct what was possibly the
stupidest
plot that's ever been devised," Theo began. "And trust me, I
know
power-mad villains and their plots.""Oh, come on. How stupid could they be?" Aisha gestured toward the closest window. "We live in
Brockton Bay.
We've had some really fuckin' stupid villains here.""They kidnapped Atropos," Theo and Riley said in unison.Theo watched as Aisha shared a look of horrified fascination with Brian. "Okay, yeah," she conceded. "That's a stupid plan, alright. So, how badly did she fuck them up?"
<><>
TaylorEmma and I stepped out of the portal outside the Barnes residence. "Well, here we are," I said. "Safe and sound.""You have delivered me once more from evil, my Lady," she responded. Apparently not noticing my grimace under the mask, she looked up at the house. "Do You think they'll have noticed I was even gone?""Possibly not," I conceded. "Especially since you left your phone behind. They probably think you're with the other Followers.""You do not
know, my Lady?" She looked at me quizzically."I don't automatically know everything, Emma," I explained patiently. "My power doesn't fill me in on every detail of everything that's around me. I don't even get all the details of a path I'm following, just what I need to do to make it happen. I knew you were in trouble from the moment the guy drew his knife on you, but I also had other stuff going on.""And yet, despite all the trouble I have given You, You chose to rescue me." She frowned. "What happened to the man who was attacking me?""Shot him in the bomb," I replied briefly. "He became a crater about half a second after the portal closed.""Ah. A fitting end." She tilted her head slightly. "And how long before all this happened did You know it was actually going to happen?"I led the way up the driveway. "Check my last PHO post. Look for the sentence starting with 'Be informed'. Look at the first letter in each word of that sentence."She nodded earnestly. "I will do that, my Lady.""Okay, enough." I patted at the air. "I get it. I rescued you, your faith got a sudden boost again. Just … can we lay off with the 'my Lady' stuff? I don't look for worship, and I don't want it."She began to say something, then she must have noticed something about my attitude, and corrected herself. "I will try … Atropos."It sounded fake as fuck, but it was a start. "Thank you." Raising my hand, I knocked firmly on the front door.It didn't take long for it to open; Zoe Barnes stood there, staring at us both. "Oh, thank goodness," she said. "I was wondering where you were. Hello, uh, Atropos. I hope Emma hasn't been too much trouble?""No more than usual," I told her, carefully pitching my voice so she wouldn't recognise me as Taylor Hebert. "There's been a little bit of an adventure, but she can tell you all about that herself. Toodles." The portal formed behind me, leading back home, and I stepped backward into it.
<><>
DannyCherie raised her head from where she'd been reading quietly on the sofa. "Taylor's home.""Thanks, hon." In the kitchen, Danny put aside the paperwork he'd been dealing with—even with his power doing the heavy lifting to ensure that nothing went badly wrong, there was always paperwork to do—and looked over at the basement door as it opened. "Hi, Taylor. Good day?"Taylor pulled off her hat and mask, and shook her hair out. "Well, it's definitely been an interesting one."Relevant Side Story
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
Late Saturday Afternoon, PRT Building ENE
Director Paul Renick
"I will freely admit that when the abduction was first reported, I didn't consider that it might be connected to Atropos." Paul placed his hands flat on the desk, looking at the split-screen image in front of him. Kamil Armstrong looked sympathetic, Emily Piggot appeared thoughtful, and the Chief Director's expression was downright impassive. "We hadn't had any notification of the Barnes abduction for the simple reason that nobody had reported her missing, and the two other people taken were a Ward and the son of Kaiser. The natural assumption was that Empire remnants had taken him to act as a figurehead, and that she'd been snatched up as well. Which of course raised dire concerns about her welfare."
"Even if it wasn't connected to Atropos to begin with, it would've quickly gotten that way." Emily's tone was one of absolute assurance. "She doesn't allow crap like that to fly in her city."
"But where do we draw the line?" asked Armstrong. "Do we stand back and assume she'll take care of everything? That way lies learned helplessness, and from what I've seen of her work, I don't think she's in favour of that."
"No, she isn't." Paul paused for thought. "She expects us to do our job. In fact, she's spent the last two months making sure we
can
and
will
do our job. She's also extremely adept at working around us, if it looks like we might accidentally get in her way, but she never takes offense. So, I put everyone on it
anyway.
I figured, even if Atropos brings them home, it's still good training. And for all we knew, she might've been leaving it for us to get the kids back while she went after the ringleader."
The Chief Director weighed in for the first time. "Do I have this correct? She was abducted as well? In fact, the whole thing was about
her, not them?"
"That's how the statements all line up," Paul confirmed. "This 'Goddess' cape wanted Atropos to wipe out all resistance to her Master power, and her best choices for hostages to keep Atropos in line were the leader of the Atropos Fan Club and the head of the Followers of Our Lady in Darkness, as they call themselves. Aisha Laborn and Emma Barnes. We know how we ended up on the back foot there, information-wise. The only thing I'm not one hundred percent sure about is whether Atropos actively invited the abduction as a way of neutralising Goddess, knew it was going to happen and planned ahead, or simply turned it around on her once she was there."
"Congratulations." Emily's voice was slightly drier than Death Valley at high noon in the middle of summer. "You've discovered the Atropos paradox. The end result is always the same, so I wouldn't spend too much time worrying about it."
Armstrong rubbed his chin with finger and thumb. "What's the potential fallout of Atropos going to an alternate Earth and instituting a drastic regime change? Specifically, with a Ward along?"
"Two Wards," Paul corrected. "Technically, one Ward went, but young Anders has shown a willingness to join, and he
did
trigger with powers before Atropos did
whatever
the hell it was that she did."
"Oh, good." Emily sounded sincere. "I've only seen the preliminary report about his powers. How's Armsmaster taking it?"
"Before we get into that," Chief Director Costa-Brown interjected, "I'm going to make the call here and now, regarding Earth Shin. Goddess' abduction of a Ward constituted an official act of war against Earth Bet. The fact that she was also so monumentally stupid as to mount any kind of assault on Atropos doesn't excuse her from the consequences; it merely turns everything that resulted into her
personal
fault."
"And we don't have to follow up on that?" ventured Armstrong.
"Follow up on what?" Emily sounded grimly satisfied. "They might have started the war, but Atropos prosecuted it with extreme prejudice, overthrew the terrorist regime, and brought our people back home without any casualties
and
with an extra Ward recruit into the bargain. Win-win."
"Director Piggot is essentially correct," Costa-Brown agreed. "Also, if I'm reading these statements correctly, there's a chance that they'll open negotiations for a trade agreement. The more friendly contacts we can have with the various alternate Earths, the better."
"Good, good." Armstrong nodded. "So, Director Renick. I also find myself curious about what Armsmaster thinks about young Anders and his powers."
<><>
Miss Militia
Hannah peered at the gauntlet Theo had removed and handed over to her. "How is this supposed to come apart?" she asked. "I can't see any screws, or even rivets." Privately, she doubted that her presence would help very much; unlike Armsmaster, she wasn't a Tinker, and anyway she didn't do power armour.
"Not sure it's supposed to." Theo shrugged. "I just want it to be there, and it is."
"So how did you remove it?" Armsmaster had been looking more and more irritated as the inspection of Theo's armour went on. "I don't see any attachment points."
"I wanted to take it off, so it came off." Theo took the gauntlet back off Hannah and fitted it on his hand, then flexed the fingers as the seam sealed itself. "See, it's attached again."
"Hmm …" Hannah mused. "Try this: take the gauntlet off, then take the outer armour
off
the gauntlet." It wasn't a move she would try with one of her guns, but they'd already established that Theo's powers were unlike hers.
"Sure, okay." Theo reversed the procedure, then lifted the plate off the back of the hand with zero fuss or bother. Within was an intricate array of tiny servos, pivots and other components that Hannah thought she should recognise. When she manipulated one of the fingers, she saw the corresponding movement in the exposed mechanisms.
"That can't be right." Armsmaster looked closer. "Miss Militia, do you see any Tinkertech in there?"
"No, I don't." Hannah shook her head. "Not that I'm an expert, but that all looks entirely normal to me. Theo, can we see inside the arm?"
"Sure." The gauntlet Hannah was holding folded itself into smaller and smaller sections, then vanished while the full-sized version reformed on Theo's hand. Theo pulled the armour plate off his forearm and held it out for them to examine.
Feeling the excitement of validation, Hannah pointed at the multitude of componentry. "See? It's the same. No Tinkertech. Just really high-end steel, and tech like I've seen in photos of experimental mundane powered armour."
"It can't
all
be normal technology." Armsmaster shook his head. "Not the plasma cannon
or
the flight jets. How do those jets work? Nothing that small could lift armour of that weight, not without a fuel tank the size of the armour."
Theo cleared his throat. "Uh … were you there when I talked about Foundry? I can't remember."
Hannah turned her head to look directly at him. "Foundry?" She hadn't been in the room for the earlier discussions, and this was the first she'd heard of that name.
"Yeah, um, when I was under guard, the door just opened and this guy came in. He was made of steel plates joined together like, you know, geology stuff. Like the continents." Theo waved his hands vaguely, like he was trying to capture the word he was looking for.
"Tectonic plates?" suggested Armsmaster.
"That's the one, yeah. So there was molten steel coming from between the plates and dripping on the floor but vanishing when it hit, so I figured it was an illusion or something. Also, the guard didn't move, or look at him, or even blink. Anyway, he said his name was Foundry, and that he was the personification of the power that Allfather and Iron Rain and Kaiser had, and he was bored with waiting for me to reach a trigger point—"
"Wait." Hannah knew she probably shouldn't have interrupted, but this was something she'd
never
heard of. "Your power
talked
to you? And it was shaped like a person?"
"Um, yeah." Theo made his helmet go away, then sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. "Isn't that what happens with everyone?"
"Not usually, no." Armsmaster's command of understatement was impressive. "What happened next?"
"Um, he said another power personification called Ending had told him to give me a nice easy power setup instead of slam-dunking me with powers that would nearly solve my problems and mainly get me into trouble. I'm, uh, not sure, but I think Ending might belong to Atropos. He seemed pretty scared of it, anyway."
"Hm." Armsmaster's mouth twisted in wry amusement. "That certainly tracks. So … Foundry gave you your powers?"
"Ah, we talked about it, and I told him what I'd like, and he had a kind of glowing golden ball that he said was from Plasma, that I'm pretty sure is Purity's power, and that's where the cannon and the flight jets and the power for the electronics comes from." Theo took a deep breath.
Hannah was pretty sure she was tracking what was happening, but she wanted to be certain. "So … you told Foundry that you wanted power armour that you could summon or send away, as well as a plasma rifle, and boot jets … and it just
gave
you that power, as an expression of 'create metal from nowhere'?"
"Yeah." Theo looked pleased that she understood. "Kaiser could build armour, but he had to make it piece by piece. Mine shows up pre-formed with all the bits and pieces, so I can move around without falling over."
"So, what happens when it gets damaged?" asked Armsmaster. "How long does it take you to repair it?"
"Oh, um, it's not really an issue." Theo took his left gauntlet off and dropped it on the workbench. "Hit it."
After only a moment of hesitation, Armsmaster unracked his halberd, activated the plasma cutter, then scored a deep slice in the back of the gauntlet. The steel was evidently of very high quality, because the cutter had trouble getting a proper purchase on it. "Done," he said, stepping back.
Theo nodded, then concentrated. The gauntlet folded itself into nothingness then reformed on his hand, entirely unmarred. "See? All I have to do is make it go away, then bring it back."
"Nice." Hannah was starting to see the parallels between his power and hers. "Do you have any other tricks like that?"
"Um, well, I can also do a shield, like this." He held up his left arm, forearm horizontal, palm inward. With a series of mechanical
chnk
noises, a metal ridge extended outward from it, then a steel kite shield built itself upward and downward from the ridge. "And a sword." He held up his right hand in a closed-fist pose. A steel bar extruded from it, then unfolded again and again in an almost fractal manner until he was holding a four-foot-long gleaming blade with a prominent pommel and cross-guard. "Or a war-hammer." The sword broke itself down in the same fractal manner to the steel bar, then built itself up again, extending outward then bulking up at the end until he held a steel-hafted hammer with a very solid-looking head. "I wanted options, you see."
"Yes, I do," answered Hannah, as Armsmaster seemed to have temporarily lost the power of speech. "Just a question: did the power come with the skills to
use
those weapons effectively?"
"Um, no." Theo made the hammer break itself down again until it was just a handle, which then vanished inside his gauntlet; his shield retracted at the same time. "I can swing and hit stuff, but against someone who knows how to use them, I'd probably suck big time. The plasma rifle's got a basic aiming dot in my visor, though."
"Always useful," Hannah allowed. "I can help tutor you in each one, if you want. Are those the only weapons you asked for?"
Still wearing the armour, Theo shrugged massively. "Yeah, I couldn't think of anything really tricky. But it would be great to learn how to use them properly. I don't want to hurt anyone by accident, y'know?"
"Yes, it would." Armsmaster cleared his throat. "Skill is very important. Your power is very … useful. You're getting protection, movement, offensive ability, and scanning technology, all at once." He spoke slowly and deliberately, in a way Hannah had only seen in people who were truly pissed off. She had an idea why, but she didn't want to draw attention to it.
However, Theo seemed to notice something was off. "Um … did I say or do something wrong? I didn't mean to."
"No, no, it's alright." Hannah ushered him to the other side of Armsmaster's lab, to give the Tinker a chance to cool down. "It's nothing you did, specifically. He's just … a little intense, about the amount of time he has to put into maintaining his equipment."
"Oh. Oh, crap." Theo looked mortified. "And I've just walked in, wearing armour that I don't have to maintain or repair, and weapons I don't have to reload or even carry around. He must think I'm the worst person in the world."
"No, that would've been Lung, before Atropos killed him," Hannah joked.
"Ha," Theo said politely. "Seriously though, how do I do this without stepping on his toes?"
She nodded in approval at his question. "He's a big boy. There will always be a little toe-stepping, and not just from you. But if I were you, I'd ask his opinion on matters and follow any advice he gives you."
"Thanks." He looked relieved. "I really do want to be a hero."
She smiled and patted him on the shoulder. "I never thought otherwise for a moment."
<><>
Laborn Residence
Brian
"I still think it's total bullshit," grumped Aisha. "I'm the one who was supposed to go off to a whole alternate earth and get awesome-as-fuck powers. I mean, I'm the head of Atropos' fan club. Who had the stones to meet with her for selfies? Me, that's who."
Brian frowned, but Riley spoke up first. "It wasn't fun at all," she chided. "There was a mean guy with a knife and a gun. You're good, but he was not a nice person at all. And if you and Brian had been home, someone might have gotten hurt. I was able to talk them into not hurting Theo, but they were really into not leaving witnesses behind."
"Jealousy isn't a good look for you, Aisha," added Brian. "Anyway, it wasn't Riley's
or
Theo's idea to go instead of you. And they could really have died."
He could tell Aisha didn't want to let it go, but eventually she shrugged in what looked like a resigned fashion. "Yeah, I guess. And the Barnes chick didn't get powers, so I probably wouldn't have gotten them either."
It had gotten a little hectic after Brian's call to Ms Brown. PRT plainclothes personnel had descended on the apartment in force and gotten statements from Riley and Theo. Once they'd found out about Theo's new powers (Brian had been seriously impressed when he saw the armour for the first time) he'd been conveyed off for power testing at the Protectorate HQ.
Personally, Brian had been mildly worried about Vista's reaction to Theo's colour scheme—his silver and green was a little close to her white and green—so Aisha's outburst about how unfair it was had come as a little bit of a surprise. He kind of understood the basic reasoning, but still thought she was being unfair to Theo. Also, he remembered how traumatic getting his own powers had been, and suspected she wouldn't be nearly as eager to get them if she truly understood that.
"That's probably true," agreed Riley. "Like I said earlier, Atropos would've had to deal with rescuing us each from our guards if we hadn't already escaped. I was fine and Theo got away as well, but if two of us hadn't had powers, someone would likely have died."
"I guess you're right." Aisha looked at her with a concerned expression. "If you think I'm being too hard on him, let me know, okay? I know it's not really his fault. He tried to protect you and all."
"Totally," agreed Riley. "And just so you know, even in situations like that, the chance of actually getting powers in time to save your life is kinda low. Otherwise, violent crime wouldn't really be a thing anymore. He really lucked out, just saying."
She spoke with a surety that Brian suspected came from an expertise earned in the darker parts of her history. He preferred not to think about it, focusing on how she was in the here and now. As he was about to say something to change the subject, it was changed for him.
"Hey," Aisha said, turning her head. "Pretty sure I just heard the elevator. I think he's back."
They all looked over at the door; a moment later, a key turned in the lock. The door opened, revealing Theo, with Ms Brown behind him.
Aisha was the first one off the mark; heading over to the door, she wrapped Theo up in a heartfelt hug. "Hey," she said, holding him tightly. "Sorry I said that stuff earlier. They treated you okay?"
"Yeah." He hugged her in return. "Armsmaster wasn't totally thrilled that I can just make power armour that never needs repair and stuff, but they said they're willing to show me how to fight using the weapons I can make."
"That's good. That's really good." She let him go and ruffled his hair playfully. "Even if we don't have any villains anymore in Brockton Bay, I figure they can make you into the best hero you can be, just in case."
"Thanks for bringing him home, Ms Brown," Brian said. "Is there anything we need to know about, going forward?"
"Nothing that Theo can't fill you in on himself." She gave him a warm smile. "I'm pleased they both came out of that in one piece."
"And now we don't have to tiptoe around about Brian and Riley being capes." Aisha had apparently forgotten her disgruntlement over not getting powers herself. "I definitely call that a win, right there."
Riley waggled her hand in the air. "Theo's pretty sharp. He would've figured it out in a week or so. He grew up in a cape household, remember?"
"Mmm." Theo didn't sound so sure. "Maybe two weeks. I had
no
idea."
Ms Brown chuckled at the banter, and nodded to Brian. "See you next checkup."
"See you then," he said, and watched the door close behind her.
There was a sudden growling sound, and Theo flushed. "Sorry about that. They barely fed me while I was there. Everyone seemed to think everyone else had gotten me food."
"We got your back," Aisha declared. "Saved you some pizza. It's in the fridge."
"You are a wonderful human being." Theo made a beeline for the kitchenette.
Aisha grinned. "Yeah, I know."
<><>
Anne Barnes
"So, I hear you had a fun day out." Anne sat on Emma's computer chair, one heel up on the seat with her arms folded around her lower leg, while Emma sat cross-legged on the bed. "Was it really as dramatic as you said to Mom, about being kidnapped by a tyrant cape from another Earth?"
"I actually left out a lot." Emma met her gaze squarely. "I didn't want her getting worried, you see. Our Lady in Darkness was watching over me the entire time."
Anne frowned. "Yeah, that's another thing she said. Apparently she did the whole thing to get at Atropos? Doesn't that make being a Follower kind of, uh, dangerous?"
"I serve Her purpose," Emma said serenely. "With me there, the false Goddess felt confident in allowing Her to do whatever She wished, believing that my presence would keep Her from acting against the pretender's wishes. Any perceived danger was down to my lack of faith in Her capabilities." She smiled beatifically. "And now, She has freed a whole world from the yoke of tyranny."
"You're still leaving out a lot, sis. Do I want to know what happened to this 'false Goddess'?"
So then Emma told the story of what had happened once she arrived in the throne room, eliding only the real names of the other two capes who'd been there. She seemed downright amused by Atropos' 'three Shins' pun, and was apparently unconcerned that their departure had left the depowered villainous cape to almost certainly be murdered by the mob. By contrast, the end of the story was positively anti-climactic. "And then, She brought us home."
Anne shook her head. "That would've terrified me. I'm sorry if this upsets you, but I think Atropos is scary."
"Well, She
is
scary," agreed Emma. "I wouldn't have come to the true realisation of my trespasses against Her if She wasn't. Fear is a great motivator to not act against Her. I suspect it's saved many lives."
"I wasn't actually meaning that in a good way, but …" Anne sighed, thinking about the general exodus of villains from Brockton Bay, and of the careful good behaviour of the ex-villains who had either been allowed to return to the city, or arrived for the first time. "Yeah, I guess I get your point."
"So, enough about me and Our Lady in Darkness." Emma grinned at Anne. "How was your day? Did you meet up with Crystal and, uh, Faultline, like you said you would?"
"How did I know it was going to get back around to that?" Anne fixed her sister with an unimpressed gaze. "I think I preferred it when you were fixated on Atropos twenty-four-seven."
"I've learned to appreciate that Her actions are not the only important things in life, and that I am not Her sole concern." Emma shrugged. "If She calls, then I will answer, but I will not intrude unless I am needed." She gave Anne a meaningful look. "But I think you're deflecting now."
This time, Anne's sigh was more aggravated.
Busted.
"Okay, fine, we got together down at the Boardwalk around about lunchtime, once Melanie got back from Boston. It was a bit awkward at first …"
<><>
Boardwalk (Six Hours Earlier)
Anne Barnes
The churros were nice and crunchy, but she could only stall for so long. "So …" Anne hinted, leaning on her elbows.
"So …" echoed Crystal, nibbling at her powdered donut. They both looked at Melanie, who was rocking aviator shades.
"So," the ex-villain agreed. "We're all sober right now, yes?"
"It's been at least eleven or twelve hours," Crystal noted. "We should be good."
"I concur." Melanie nodded. "So, what do we actually have in common?"
Anne shared a glance with Crystal. "Atropos?" she ventured.
"While that's weirdly true," Crystal said dryly, "I'm pretty sure it's not a great foundation for any kind of relationship."
"Wait." Melanie lowered her glasses and looked at Crystal over them. "Did she set this whole thing up? Between us, I mean?"
"Uh, no. Absolutely not." Anne shook her head. "I talked to Emma this morning. She asked Atropos straight-up, and Atropos said she didn't know about it until it happened."
"She said as much on PHO," Crystal added. "And you'll be pleased to know that nobody's connected the dots on who either of you are yet. You're just 'the brunette' and 'the redheaded chick'."
Melanie nodded, looking satisfied. "Thought so."
"Maybe not 'nobody'," Anne cautioned. "I saw that thread too, and there were a couple of people who seemed to be reading stuff into it that nobody else was. A 'Mr Newtonian' and someone called 'Silent Whispers'. The Newtonian guy was just laughing his head off."
"Yes. I know." Melanie growled, deep in her throat. "That's Newter. He saw the video of me telling your folks to go easy on you, and worked the whole thing out. I'm not at all sure if I'm ever going to live this down in their eyes. I'm just glad Gregor doesn't really share his sense of humour, and Labyrinth doesn't understand what's going on."
"Oh." Crystal smirked. "And Silent Whispers? Who's that?"
"Probably Tattletale, if I'm any judge. She hates that I can out-think her even without a Thinker power like she's got." Melanie took off her sunglasses and rubbed her hand over her face. "But we didn't come here to talk about them. What else do we have in common?"
"I'd say 'alcohol' but that's kind of self-evident," Anne said. "Okay, come on. Movies? I like rom-coms."
"Action rom-coms," Crystal offered.
"Action," Melanie grinned. "Rom and/or com optional. Pineapple on pizza, yes or no? I say no."
"Eww, haha, nope." Crystal made amazingly realistic gagging noises.
"Not my go-to, but I don't care either way." Anne cast about for another topic. "The trolley problem. Throw the lever and kill one, don't throw the lever and kill five?"
"I'd laser the fuck out of the trolley," Crystal said immediately.
"Oh, come on, that's cheating," protested Anne.
Melanie shrugged. "I was gonna say, demolition charges. Or cut the ropes with my power and let them free." With a subtle flick of her fingers, she sliced one of Anne's churros in half. "How about you?"
Anne hunched her shoulders, uncomfortable about being put on the spot. "I, uh … I've always thought it would depend on who it was and if they were important to me. Does that make me a shitty person?"
"No, it makes you human." Crystal put a hand on her arm. "The shitty person's the one who came up with that dilemma. Okay, uh … suppose you got to pick the perfect cake for your next birthday. What would it be?"
"Chocolate cake," Anne declared promptly. "With pink and white icing, and sprinkles. And the candles arranged in a nice symmetrical pattern."
"Hmm." Melanie rubbed her chin with thumb and forefinger. "Cheesecake. No icing, no candles. Minimal decoration. Just
all
the cheesecake." She looked at Crystal. "And you?"
"Double layered sponge." Crystal smiled in what Anne suspected was fond remembrance. "Slathered in banana-flavoured icing, with sparklers for candles."
"I do like the sparklers idea," Anne said. "Okay, what now?"
"Answer me a question." Melanie had taken her sunglasses off now, and her hands were folded in front of her. "Why did you start kissing us?" She held up one finger briefly. "I'm not judging. What happened after that, we all participated. But none of us were really expecting it. Hell, I'd always thought I was more het than bi, and seeing how surprised you were after the fact, I'm pretty sure you were too. What I'm asking is, does alcohol just flip your switch, or was it something else?"
"Ugh." Anne covered her face with her hands; she could already feel her cheeks heating up. "I knew you were going to ask about that."
"You don't have to answer if you don't want to," Crystal reassured her. "This isn't an interrogation, we're just sharing stuff about ourselves."
"No, no, it's a totally valid question." Anne knew her cheeks were flaming red by now, but this was something she had to do. "I've had this sort of kinky little fantasy for the longest time, you know? To get into a threesome with two guys, and get one guy to roleplay being a hero and the other to play being a villain, so I can pretend I'm sleeping with a superhero and a supervillain at the same time. I've read every capefic out there about that sort of thing. Never expected it to happen, never even had the nerve to try and arrange it, but … yeah. Drunk, sitting between you two … switch flipped, I guess."
For the longest time, neither one reacted, then Crystal snorted softly. "Sorry," she said immediately, covering her smile with her hand. "Not laughing at you. Just …"
"It
is
kind of funny," agreed Melanie, though her face was poker-still. "Though we did walk into that one, didn't we? I was just going to make sure you both got to your dorm rooms okay, then go back and sleep it off in my car, but then you both kissed me and …" A little colour touched her cheeks as well. "Switch flipped."
"Yeah." Crystal bore a tiny smile, which suggested she was harbouring secret thoughts of her own. "That definitely happened. So, are you up to going for a walk? The Rogues' Guild should be setting up just a little bit farther down the Boardwalk, and I wanted to swing by."
"I'd heard about them." Melanie steepled her fingers in front of her. "We were looking to recruit Spitfire, but then Atropos came along and we had to abort our plans. Are they any good?"
Crystal's smile grew to a grin. "Amy seems to think so. Then again, she's dating Parian, so she might be just a teensy bit biased. That aside, Parian
can
make you a totally lifelike doll in just a few minutes. I saw the one she did of Amy, and it'd knock your socks off."
Anne hadn't heard about that bit, but she was pretty sure that the Followers of Atropos were buying toys from Salvage to hand out to disadvantaged kids. She just hoped Emma wouldn't show up with her cult while Anne was there; she could only handle so much judgement at a time. Still, the doll thing sounded cool, and she figured she could always hide behind Melanie and Crystal if necessary. "Let's go take a look."
"Absolutely." Melanie got to her feet, and offered Anne an entirely unnecessary hand up. Anne accepted it, feeling the strength in Melanie's grip as she stood up. "Let's go do that thing."
<><>
Emma (Evening)
"Meanwhile, I wasn't even on the same planet." Emma shook her head with a grin. "So, how'd it go with the Rogues' Guild?"
"Mel was pretty damn impressed, actually." Anne leaned back in the chair. "She had a good chat with Parian about the logistics of running a group. I'm reasonably certain I saw Parian taking notes."
"So did you get a doll made?" Emma was pretty sure she knew the answer.
"Not today, but that's only because she had a backlog." Anne rolled her eyes. "Turns out when Panacea puts up pictures on PHO, people pay attention. And it didn't help when Glory Girl showed up with Panacea, and Parian took a break so they could catch up. I'd thought Crystal might've been exaggerating a little when she said they were dating. She wasn't."
Emma chuckled; she couldn't help herself. "Yet another Atropos unintended consequence."
Anne frowned. "What's that?"
"Before She showed up, everyone in the city was wound tighter than Accord's pocket watch." Emma wasn't sure if he had one, but if he did, its mainspring would
always
be under strain. "But with the crime gone, everyone's had time to relax and notice each other. I'd be totally astonished if you guys were the only new relationship in Brockton Bay."
"We're not sure if we're even that yet," Anne protested. "It's only been two days."
Emma smiled.
The lady doth protest overmuch. "I know."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
Relevant Side StoryPRT New York, Sunday Morning, March 6Director Emily PiggotThe intercom at Emily's elbow buzzed. "Deputy Director Henderson is here, ma'am. Are you clear to see him?"She frowned.
Is this how Wilkins operated?
"Send him in. And make a note: Henderson gets access to me, all hours. Other names to be added to that list, at my discretion.""Ma'am."
There was no inflection to the voice to show whether her personal gatekeeper was pleased or irritated with the idea, but Emily didn't give a damn either way. Clear and prompt communication was
essential
to managing an organisation like the PRT, especially the department of it tasked with overseeing New York.She'd already made a good start with ripping out the weeds left behind after her predecessor's ignominious departure, but she suspected there would be more to come. The .22 popgun stashed in the footwell had been replaced by her venerable SIG 220, and that was the least of the changes she intended to make around here. By the time she handed over the office to whoever was due to take charge on the first of July, she intended to have the New York PRT ticking over like a goddamn Swiss watch, no matter how many brand-new assholes she had to ream out in the doing of it.New York boasted (if that was the word) a larger selection of villains than Brockton Bay had had, she freely admitted that. However, she couldn't help noticing while she'd been familiarising herself with their various dossiers that they were softer and fluffier on the whole than their departed counterparts. No neo-Nazi hate groups, no rage dragons, no snake-in-the-grass Coils, no Merchant-equivalents devoted entirely to dealing drugs.This wasn't to say that they were
good, or even 'misunderstood' (she hated that word with the passion of a thousand burning suns), just that they were a lot less vicious than the usual for Brockton Bay. Of course, it helped that the Teeth had been irresistibly drawn to Brockton Bay by Atropos' warning, and been wiped out to a man. Barrow was another casualty of overconfidence, currently (as far as she knew) dealing with having both his kneecaps blown out by Atropos in one of her rare nonlethal takedowns.Emily hadn't lost a moment of sleep over either one of those.The Elite were still in town, but since Bastard Son's demise, they'd become a lot more circumspect in their dealings, and the New York branch had never been heavy on crime anyway. Likewise, the Adepts kept things low-key, and were careful not to risk killing anyone. Their most annoying trait seemed to be their habit of attempting to poach any Wards or Protectorate members whose powers could be mistaken for magic (and the fact that they'd succeeded at least once that she knew of).Which raised a point: the latest 'recruit' into the ranks of the New York Wards happened to be one Tammi Reynolds, AKA Scribe, previously known as Rune, whose powers could absolutely be described as looking like magic.
Also
(and this was important), she was an ex-member of the extremely defunct Empire Eighty-Eight and had been, by all accounts, chugging down the racist Kool-Aid on the regular before Kaiser took a sword through the brain.In Emily's personal opinion, Scribe was a high-risk cape, likely to defect to the enemy given the slightest opportunity. Someone who should've been slam-dunked straight back into the juvenile detention system instead of being fast-tracked into a probationary Wards position.Just like we should've done with Shadow Stalker, only more so.
Stalker, at least, had never tried to switch sides. At least, not officially.She suspected Wilkins had had a hand in this, looking to boost her numbers and look good to the higher-ups. And now, ironically, not only was Emily being tapped to solve the problems Wilkins had caused, but two adversaries from Brockton Bay had ended up technically on the same side in a whole new city. Not that Emily intended to trust the little shit any further than she could caber-toss the Empire State Building, or tolerate Rune's presence in the Wards for one second longer than it took to get her shitcanned right back to where she belonged.The office door opened, and Henderson entered. "Sorry to bother you, ma'am, but—"Emily cut him off right there. "Deputy Director Henderson. You are the PRT second in command in this city, so let's get something straight. If there's something I need to know, you bring it to my attention. Likewise, if you come in here to see me about something, I'm going to assume that I need to know about it. Therefore, when you walk into my office, the first words I want to hear from you are
not
an apology for wasting my time. What I
want
is for you to tell me what I need to know about whatever's going on. Is that perfectly understood?"Henderson blinked. "Uh … yes, ma'am. Loud and clear, ma'am. So, I'm here to let you know that the Wards are assembled downstairs for you to address them, ma'am."She nodded firmly. Dealing with Wards wasn't her favourite part of the job—if there was any part of it that she could call favourite—but at least they weren't being housed in the PRT building and overseen by the Deputy Director, like in Brockton Bay. Whoever's idea it had been to put the Brockton Bay Protectorate base in the middle of the actual bay had a lot to answer for, in her opinion."Thank you, Mr Henderson." She stood up from her chair and started around the desk. On impulse, she took the Nilbog claw that she was currently using as a letter opener and slid it into her pocket. "And you don't have to call me 'ma'am' with every sentence; just occasionally will do. I know Director Wilkins probably did a lot of things differently to me, but she's also facing Federal charges, so I see no need to emulate her every habit." She stepped up to him. "Also, I
will
be requiring you to make judgement calls on occasion. I may ask you to explain your reasoning after the fact, but I'd prefer a subordinate who can
make
a decision over one who lets a bad situation get worse because they froze. If this is not to your liking, then you may submit your resignation at any time. Is that also understood?""Crystal clear, ma'am." He seemed to be trying to process what she was saying, or maybe he was just constipated. She didn't care which one it was; he'd either get with the program or she'd have to bring in another Deputy Director to train up."Good to hear." She paused with her hand on the door handle, and looked back at him. "And one more thing. I've read all the available briefing notes, but only a complete fool would assume that's all there is to know about this duty posting, and I'd like to think I'm not a complete fool. So if I happen to give an order out of ignorance that's likely to have problematic consequences, get my attention and fill me in in private. Think you can do that?"This time, his response was more positive, as he nodded sharply. "Yes, ma'am.""Excellent." She opened the door and left the office. In time, it would probably feel like 'her' office, but that time wasn't yet.He followed along behind her. "May I ask a semi-personal question?""Certainly. Don't set your heart on getting an answer, though.""Understood." He hesitated for a second. "What was it like, being in the same city as Atropos all the time?"She glanced back at him. "Broadly speaking? Irritating and illuminating. I do not, and never will, approve of vigilante justice. The PRT and courts exist for a reason. We do
not
want or need armed civilians, or even armed capes, simply murdering people willy-nilly." She huffed a sigh. "The irritating part is that she made it
work.
The illuminating aspect is that she had a deeper plan behind it all, over and above 'kill villains in excruciating ways'.""The Betterment Committee," he said, proving that he was paying attention."Precisely. The bounty from the Nine barely started the ball rolling, then she pulled in two billion for the Simurgh, and there's going to be more again once we announce the demise of the other Endbringers in July. And of course, there are the quarantine areas that she so kindly cleared out for us, freeing up immense amounts of our funding and manpower for other purposes, and incidentally providing the Committee with a solid revenue stream for the next ten years."Henderson didn't bring up the fact that Emily was the one who'd started the trend of commissioning Atropos to clear the quarantine areas; it was something they both already knew. Instead, he asked a question which she had also been pondering the answer to. "So, now that she's Ended all the major threats to the well-being of Brockton Bay, as well as an interdimensional one, what do you think she'll do now, ma'am?"Emily chuckled darkly. "Mr Henderson, I stopped trying to anticipate her next move a long time ago. I'm sure we'll find out if and when it happens.""Copy that, ma'am."
<><>
Hebert Household BasementTaylorI hummed to myself as I stirred the mixture in the plastic tub, the improvised paddle poking through a hole in the garbage bag I'd tied over the lot to keep the fumes from getting out. It had been even easier than I'd expected to obtain the ingredients in the proportions and quantity I needed. Now I just had to make sure the two disparate elements were well and truly mixed together, while preventing any stray sparks from inviting themselves to the party before I was ready.The basement door opened, and Cherie descended the steps. "Hey, Taylor. What're you doing now?"I turned and gave her my most innocent look, without interrupting the stirring. "What makes you think I'm doing something?"She retaliated with a don't-bullshit-me look of amused exasperation; perfectly justified, given that I was indeed doing something. "I swear, you're like a four-year-old. Whenever you vanish down here and I can hear you humming along contentedly, I know for a fact that disaster is soon to follow. The only difference is that the disaster is going to happen to some thoroughly deserving asshole, and it's always highly entertaining to watch."A grin twitched my lips. "As much as I feel I should be insulted somehow by the comparison to a kid doing something it knows it shouldn't, I can kinda see where you're coming from. I
do
come down here to prep for a lot of my mayhem.""Which brings us back to my original question." She leaned back against the workbench near me, propping herself on her elbows. "What are you doing, who are you going to be doing it to, and why do I smell diesel?"My grin widened. "Well, the answer to that needs a little backtracking. I probably mentioned that I didn't want the Empire remnants to be getting any more assistance from overseas, so I've been dropping anonymous tips about Gesellschaft leadership to Interpol, right?""Right." Cherie nodded. "If they're tied up with that, they can't project power into the US.""That's the general idea, yeah." I stirred the tub again. "So, it turns out that Gesellschaft, among other European terror groups, have been bankrolling the Three Blasphemies, and getting a return by way of picking their assassination targets. Reshaping the political landscape by proxy.""The Blasphemies?" Cherie's eyebrows shot up. "Those bitches are seriously bad news. I heard they even fought Eidolon and survived. But I thought they only operated in Europe?""That's true," I acknowledged. "And they
are
pretty damn good at what they do. But they just hit my radar
anyway, because Gesellschaft is directing them to hit Interpol personnel … and in about half an hour, Interpol is going to contact me over PHO with an offer of a hundred million US to remove them from the board. It appears that taking out a chief of station in his own house, in front of his kids, crosses a line. Who knew?"Cherie smirked. "And of
course
you know how to kill them. In a way that somehow involves diesel."I nodded, giving the tub of ANFO one last stir. "When have I not?"She nodded wisely. "Good point."
<><>
Director PiggotEmily stepped up onto the dais, in front of the assembled Wards. There were more than she'd been used to dealing with in Brockton Bay, though they were arranged in teams according to capabilities. While a few gave the impression of having been at the sharp edge once or twice, most seemed less battle-hardened than the Brockton Bay Wards; in point of fact, they reminded her of recruits fresh out of boot. The skills were technically there, but they'd never been tested in real combat.Flechette was one of those Emily suspected of having faced serious opposition, almost certainly against March. She wasn't sure what March's obsession with Flechette was all about, but the teen villain's persecution of the young hero had more than earned her the beating she'd received at Atropos' hands. March had recovered from the mild concussion, and the light stab wounds were healing nicely, but her knee would never work properly again if she didn't receive corrective surgery. It turned out that the PRT was remarkably stingy about springing for that sort of thing when it wasn't a life-threatening situation.Flechette herself was one of the more famous Wards in the system, having accompanied Atropos to Canberra on that famous occasion. Quite apart from the other times she'd associated with Atropos, she had also volunteered to attend the Brockton General fundraiser, earning her a note of commendation in her file from Legend. Emily approved of that sort of initiative, so when she'd seen Flechette's request for three days off to visit Brockton Bay for 'personal reasons', she'd signed off on it.Unfortunately, she hadn't actually
seen
it until Saturday afternoon, but Flechette would get priority placing on next Friday's afternoon transport, and wouldn't be required back until Tuesday morning. Her school would be notified of her upcoming absence on Monday, and the appropriate excuses given. Judging by the original date on the leave request, Wilkins had been kicking the can down the road on that one for the last month. Emily didn't know exactly why the ex-Director had been blocking it, though she could make an educated guess.
Whatever; Flechette's earned that leave and she's damn well going to get it.The other main contender for 'teen veteran of the streets' was Scribe, who was making only a moderate attempt to appear heroic and attentive. Emily wasn't sure how much of her expression was a reaction to being a probationary Ward, and how much was her natural sneer. Either way, she'd ditched the red and black robes for blue and gold in the same pattern, along with a pointed, wide-brimmed hat. She was leaning back in her seat with her arms folded, and Emily could barely see her eyes under the hat's brim.Just for a moment, Emily was tempted to order her to remove the hat, but refrained when she noted the number of Wards in the room who would be unmasked if they were required to remove their helmets and other headgear. And she knew damn well Scribe would insist on it happening, and kick up a stink if the others weren't given equal treatment. The last thing she wanted was for the Youth Guard to come sniffing around when she hadn't even been in charge for a week yet.The other notable Ward in the room was probationary in a whole different way. At nineteen, Badaboom would normally have got straight into the Protectorate, but it wasn't unusual for new capes in their late teens to spend a few months in the Wards before moving up in the ranks. Theoretically, this gave them an opportunity to find their feet within the organisation before facing off against the real threats. And in New York, Emily supposed, that might even work.Ironically, the bomb Tinker's recruitment into the Wards had also technically been due to Atropos. On February the twenty-second, the giantess twins Fenja and Menja had chosen to attack Cornell University in some misguided bid to attract like-minded people to their cause. It had not been going well for the beleaguered campus security (and the heroes were still a few minutes out) when one of the students had taken a hand.Wearing a makeshift costume and screaming defiance, Badaboom (real name Alice Takawara) had bombarded the Nazi terrorist capes with her Tinkertech bombs. Shifts in local gravity had put them on the back foot and 'super stunner' bombs had left them staggering, but the stars of the show were the bombs that respectively turned Fenja intensely magnetic, and inflicted Menja with the equivalent of acute gastroenteritis. When the capes showed up, Menja was in the unpleasant process of purging her system of everything she'd eaten in the last two days, and Fenja was unconscious under a pile of cars.Ironically, the news story about it had been almost totally buried under the revelation of the Simurgh's demise. Ms Takawara had tentatively accepted the recruitment offer, and was currently using the name the news crews had saddled her with until Image could figure out a better one for her. Even now, she had a wide-eyed 'how the hell did I end up
here'
expression on her face.Emily found she could sympathise."Good morning," she said into the microphone. "I'm Director Emily Piggot, replacing Ms Wilkins. You may address me as Director, ma'am, or Ms Piggot."She paused to let that sink in, looking around at the assembled teenage heroes to gather her impressions of what they thought of her opening lines. The team captains seemed to be paying close attention to her words, while the rest were nose-diving into boredom. Not Flechette, though, or Badaboom, or Scribe for that matter. Where the first two were also listening carefully, the latter was allowing her sneer to show more and more openly.What the hell,
she decided.
I'm only in this posting for another four months.
She'd never been the type to play to the crowd, but there was no percentage in setting up the Wards to push back against her initiatives for the next four months.
What don't they want to hear?She wasn't a teenager, but she judged that in their place, she wouldn't want to hear more empty platitudes.
We're all in this together, you have my support, blah blah blah.
She cleared her throat. "Okay, you know what? You've heard the rest of this speech dozens of times before, so let's just take it as said and move along. I've blocked out half an hour for this. If you've got questions or something to say, let's hear it."Shelter, down at the front, raised his hand. She nodded toward him. "Uh, ma'am, is it true you were at Ellisburg?""It is." She recalled the claw in her pocket, and took it out. Stepping down from the podium, she held it up. "Over a hundred of us went in. Two came out." She recalled again how the capes had cut and run, but restrained her automatic reaction.
Some capes do what they say they're going to do.
Atropos had taught her that. "The day before Atropos went in and killed every last goblin in Ellisburg, she collected this and later gave it to me as something to remember the place by. Careful, it's sharp."She handed over the claw to Shelter, who looked it over with something approaching awe, then passed it on to Jouster. Gradually, it began to make its way around the room. Emily kept an eye on where it was, while appearing not to: a trick she'd learned long ago as an officer. She had their attention now.
Good.Someone down the back, whose name she hadn't memorised yet, put their hand up. "How did you survive, ma'am?""I nearly didn't," she replied candidly. "Every one of my men died. I ran through all my ammo, and emptied my pistol. They were chewing on my legs and ripping up my kidneys when a chopper dropped in, killed the critters on me, and got me the hell out of there." She took a deep breath. "Take that as a lesson. Sometimes you'll be doing everything by the numbers, acting on the intel you've been given, and the intel will be
wrong. Sometimes it's just not your fault when things go ti—uh, belly-up.""What do you do then?" asked Flechette."Well, what you
don't
do is whine about how it's not fair.
Life's
not fair. Deal with it." Emily paused to allow the brief laughter to pass, then got serious, making eye contact with as many of them as she could. "You dig deep and find just how hard you can fight. And if
at
all
possible, you survive so you can tell
someone
what happened, and what went wrong. If not?" She shrugged. "You take as many of the bastards down with you that you can."The claw was halfway around the room by now. She gestured, inviting another question."Is Brockton Bay as bad as we've heard?" asked a kid with a striped red-and-white costume. "I mean, really?""Before or after Atropos showed up?" asked Emily dryly. She held up her hand. "Right off the bat, every member of the Brockton Bay Wards has been in combat against one or another of the villain gangs in the city, directly fighting supervillains. I didn't order it and I didn't approve of it, but it happened. Sometimes they got hurt. Yes, it was bad. That was before Atropos.""What about after Atropos?" That was Badaboom, looking surprised at herself. "Did she really kill all those villains?""Yeah," called out someone else in the back row. "What's Atropos like? Flechette won't give us deets!""Hey!" retorted Flechette. "I'm not gonna gossip about her! She's my friend!"Emily cleared her throat firmly and waited until the room had quieted down. "Things were starting to ramp up again after the Christmas dip. Yes, we have that there too, but it's less obvious. The gangs were doing their usual posturing. And then Oni Lee turned up dead. That actually staggered a lot of us. Many people had tried; Atropos did it with one bullet, dead centre between the eyes, using his own gun."Scribe actually managed to dial up her sneer a notch. "And not before time."Amidst the general murmur of chuckles, Emily nodded. "Be that as it may, that particular sentiment wasn't just shared by the opposing villain gangs. Off the record, of course. We're not supposed to condone murder." This actually seemed to be working. Most of her interactions with the Wards had ended in disinterest at best, but here they were
listening
to her. "At the time, we thought it was a fluke.""But … didn't she say on PHO exactly what she was doing?" That was Jouster."Anyone can say anything on PHO." Emily was a little surprised that more people didn't recognise this. "Actions, as they say, speak louder than words."Shelter snorted. "Gotta say,
her
actions are pretty damn loud.""Very true, but two months ago, she was only just starting." Emily took a breath. "Brockton Bay was a powderkeg, and we were stretched to the limit fending off idiots with matches. Then, over the course of four days, four of the major players on the villain side were eliminated. Think about that for a second. Imagine the Elite and the Adepts being taken out overnight by a totally unknown player." She looked around at the Wards, giving her words time to sink in. "All we could conclude that it was an escalation of the previous chaos, someone trying to move in and establish themselves as a new power in the criminal underworld.""Well, she definitely did
that." Flechette sounded amused, and most of the Wards chuckled along with her."She did," agreed Emily. "And after the villains fled Brockton Bay, she kept on destroying new threats as fast as they popped up. Then things got … easier." She thought about what she'd just said, and shook her head. "Things
don't
get easier in this job. That's not even rule number one; it's rule number
zero.
Nothing gets easier. But Atropos broke that rule, just like she breaks all the other rules. And now, thanks to a teenage girl with the edgiest name and costume of all time killing a whole lot of very bad people, Brockton Bay is actually getting to be a tolerable place to live." She looked around at the assembled Wards. "Next question?""Yeah. Have you actually met her? I mean, face to face?"Emily didn't see who'd asked that question, but she answered it anyway. The incidents were vivid in her mind. "Three times. Once in my office, at my invitation, once outside Ellisburg, and once on Thursday evening, at my sendoff." Emily held up her hand. "Enough questions about Atropos. Does anyone have anything
else
they want to ask about?""Yeah," snarked Scribe. "Is it true they called you Miss Piggy behind your back, in Brockton Bay?""It's true," Emily acknowledged, ignoring the murmured chuckles and the surreptitious shove that Jouster gave Scribe. "Keep in mind, the person who started that chose the name Clockblocker, so it wasn't as though he could throw any stones." She turned to face Scribe. "Also, you know what they say about glass houses and stones …
Sabrina.""Nobody called me that!" Scribe had apparently never been pulled up on any of her disrespectful behaviour until now. Emily had to wonder exactly how much Wilkins had been soft-pedalling her treatment of the ex-villain in order to look good in front of the Chief Director. It reminded her of the aftermath of Shadow Stalker's demise, and the sheer amount of misbehaviour that the little twit's PRT handler had been sweeping under the rug.
Well, that's not happening here."Oh, I dunno," Flechette said. "I spent time talking to some of the Wards when I went up for the fundraiser, and they mentioned a certain 'teenage Nazi' a couple of times.""The
fuck?" yelped Scribe, jumping to her feet and swinging around toward Flechette. "I never said
anything
about you!""Sit down, Scribe." Emily was grateful for Flechette's interjection, though she couldn't say so out loud. "This is why we should avoid
all
insulting nicknames going forward. Now, does anyone have any
relevant
questions?"
<><>
Atropos"So, what's the skinny on the Blasphemies, anyway?" Cherie helped steady the mass of explosive material as I settled the metal cone down into it, point-first. The cone itself had originally been a tin can I'd salvaged from the trash, but with a little work and soldering, it would now serve a higher purpose, as would the burner phone and single pistol bullet I'd stripped down to its primer. "I mean, they fought the
Triumvirate.
They can fly, and make force fields, and teleport, and move at superspeed, and turn invisible. And whenever anyone's killed one, she's come back. How are you gonna make it stick, this time?""The first thing to understand about the Blasphemies," I said as I began to insert the wired-up primer (itself buried in a zip-loc bag containing the leftover propellant from the cartridges I'd butchered in preparation to take down Goddess) into the mass of explosive material, "is that they're robots. Artificial intelligences. That's actually known, but not by the general public.""What the fuck?" Cherie frowned. "How many's that make now? Dragon, the Machine Army … who
else
is a robot around here?""That's about it, to be honest." I shrugged. "To make a self-sustaining AI, you need to have a power that really wants to make it happen, or it degrades and self-immolates in hours or days.""Oh. Well, that kind of sucks. So, are you going to do the same trick you used to take out the Machine Army? Literally talk them to death? Or the Shotgun Shells of Exploding Doom?""Neither one, mainly because there's three of them." I held up that many fingers. "They're in constant communication, and they back up their memories and personalities with each other on the regular. Any damage I did by infecting one with a virus would get caught by another one, via their error-checking software. Even if I killed one that way, the other two would be free and clear to go to one of their caches of spare parts, construct a new body, and re-upload a clean copy of the personality. It would be back up and running within the day.""They can
do
that?" Cherie frowned. "What's stopping them from just building more until they've got an army?""Their programming. And the fact that they're not Tinkers. They can just fake it in this one instance." I carefully taped the burner phone to the side of the gallon bottle that had come from the same place the tin can had, then started swathing the whole thing in plastic. "The other trick they can pull is swapping out their masks and changing their mannerisms. See, each of them has a set of powers that gives each of them Mover, Brute and Stranger capabilities, just
different
ones. That way, you never know which one you're fighting. By doing this, they can fool people into thinking they've
all
got
all
the powers. Also, they're really good at retreating if they have to. As soon as one dies, the others disengage."Cherie's mouth opened, her jaw dropping in horrified fascination. "Huh. Holy shit. So how
do
you kill them?""Same as you beat any other adversary," I said lightly. "You target them where they're weak, and use their strengths against them."She eyed the bomb she'd helped me make. "So … what, you're going to lure them to the same spot and blow them all up?""In a way, yes, but also no." I grinned at the exasperated expression on her face. "They'll be on their guard once they find out that I've been commissioned to
decommission them. Which means they won't be going near each other. That way, if any of them gets destroyed, the others can resurrect them.""Wait." Cherie held up her hand. "If Interpol contacts you directly, and you just go after the Blasphemies, how are they going to find out that you're on their case
before
you kill them?""Because I'm going to tell them." At her incredulous look, I explained further. "They're capable of being reasoned with. So, just like everyone else, they get a warning. Surrender to Interpol within twenty-four hours, or die.""Well, shit." Cherie's eyebrows rose. "Interpol's not going to be thrilled."I finished taping up the last of the plastic. "They're not paying me for happiness. They're paying me for results."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
Director Emily PiggotEmily closed her office door behind her and crossed the room to her desk. She felt physically and mentally drained; that had been the longest she'd ever spent in the presence of Wards when she wasn't actively chewing them out for the latest bullshit they'd pulled. Apart from Scribe, they'd even been respectful.She was pretty sure she'd caught Scribe eyeing the claw as though she'd like to pocket it, which didn't surprise her as it was still her firm belief that the girl should be in juvey, not the Wards. It didn't matter that Rune had only been caught because she'd been abandoned by Victor and Othala when an attempted bank robbery went wrong; in Emily's view, a criminal who was also the victim of betrayal was still a criminal. In this particular instance, it seemed the presence of the other Wards (plus Emily's eye on her) had kept the ex-villain relatively honest, but that wouldn't always be the case.As she settled into her chair and dropped the claw back on the desk, she wondered if it was Legend's influence that had the Wards acting so politely and respectfully toward her. Back in Brockton Bay, Armsmaster should have been in charge of the Wards but several factors had militated against that, so the duty had fallen mainly to Renick.Her deputy had tried his best, and indeed she had to admit that the Brockton Bay Wards (with one glaring exception) hadn't turned out
badly. However, all the will in the world couldn't put more hours in the day or teach him what having powers was really like, so they'd been far from the squared-away teens she'd just been talking to.She tapped her personal code into her laptop to wake it up again, and called up the Wards roster once more. Yet another reminder that she wasn't in Brockton Bay anymore: she had three times as many Wards to keep track of, and some of the names had slipped her mind while she was talking to them. To her, that was unacceptable; she began reading through the list again, matching names to costumes. Even if she wasn't in charge of them, they were still ultimately her responsibility.And then there were the two potential problems, one more so than the other. For a moment, she thought about dealing with it later, but then she squared her shoulders. Better to get it out of the way now than keep putting it on the back burner.Taking out her phone, she hit the speed-dial for Henderson's number. He answered a moment later: "Yes, ma'am?"She got directly to the point. "Are you busy with anything that can't be pushed back fifteen minutes?"There was a brief pause, but only for a couple of seconds. "No, ma'am. What do you need?""Your presence, my office. I'm going to talk to one of the Wards, and I'd like you as an impartial witness."Again, the brief hesitation. Emily could only imagine that Wilkins had never asked this of him, which spoke volumes about their working relationship. "Yes, ma'am. I'll be right over.""Thank you." Emily ended the call, then hit the speed-dial for the PRT duty officer. She didn't know all her people by sight yet, but she was working on that too. "Director Piggot here. The Wards are still in the building? Good. Please have Badaboom sent up to see me."
<><>
BadaboomAlice Takawara stepped out of the elevator and headed down the hallway toward the Director's office, the PRT trooper who had been detailed to escort her walking precisely one pace to the rear and the right. She had no idea what was going on; the meeting with Director Piggot had been interesting enough, but she'd barely said three words the whole time.It wasn't like she'd cursed the older woman out, or brought up that stupid nickname, like Scribe had. If anyone was going to be called to the Director's office, it should be that bitch. 'Sabrina the teenage Nazi.' Now,
that
was legitimately funny.The Director's secretary, or personal assistant, or whatever she was, looked at Alice once, and nodded. "Go right in.""Uh … thanks?" Alice moved forward to the office door and turned the handle. The door opened, and she stepped inside.Within were the Director and Deputy Director, the latter of whom was sitting on a chair off to the side of the office. Director Piggot looked up as Alice entered, and nodded. "Good, you're here. Have a seat." She gestured at the chair planted front and centre before the desk. "Trooper, you're dismissed.""Ma'am." The trooper left the office again, closing the door behind him.Alice walked forward and sat down, trying to calm her nerves long enough to make her jittering left leg stop bouncing. She didn't spend much time looking to Henderson for answers; even during her brief time in the Wards, she'd figured out that he was basically there to do the stuff Director Wilkins couldn't be bothered doing. Director Piggot was the one she needed to pay attention to.When Piggot spoke, it wasn't even to Alice. "Deputy Director Henderson, is it SOP in this building for Wards to be escorted to my office by a trooper?"Henderson seemed to be as surprised by this as Alice was. "Uh, yes, ma'am. It's the way it's always been.""Mmm." The Director didn't sound pleased by this, but at least it was nothing Alice had anything to do with. Also, she belatedly realised, the trooper escort
wasn't
something the Director had ordered to intimidate her. "Make a note. Protectorate and Wards have the right to be anywhere in this building they're cleared to be, just like the PRT does. They don't need troopers to hold their hands everywhere they go.""Understood, ma'am."Piggot nodded once, then turned her attention to Alice. "So, Badaboom. I have a few questions for you. Hopefully, we can clear them up and let you get back to your regular duties." She paused for a second. "This will not be an interrogation. I don't
do
interrogations. We have people for that. I would just like to ask you some questions and get some honest answers, so we all know where we stand. Deputy Director Henderson is sitting in as an impartial witness, and this entire conversation is being recorded. Do you have any questions about what I've just said?""Um …" If Alice was being honest with herself, when Director Piggot said that this would not be an interrogation, it suddenly started looking a whole lot like an interrogation. "Am I going to need a lawyer for this?""Only if I thought you'd actually committed a crime, which I don't." Piggot's eyes bored into Alice's. "I have zero interest in initiating any legal action against you, no matter what is said here. I just want answers, and for each of us here in this room to be on the same page. Is that understood?"Tentatively, Alice nodded. The Director had gotten her attention, and her respect, during the talk. As far as Alice could tell, she had zero bullshit in her. "So, uh … what do you want to know?""Well, first, do you intend to keep the name Badaboom?" As she said the name out loud, Director Piggot winced as though she'd put pressure on a sore tooth. "Have you been to see Image for potential alternatives?""Uh … that's actually Monday, ma'am." Alice was relieved that she had such an easy one to start with. "And no, I don't intend to keep it. Not sure what I'm going to replace it with. I was thinking maybe Shebang." Her head dropped as an unpleasant memory came up. "Scribe suggested Pearl Harbor, and Jouster yelled at her for it.""I'm not surprised. I would have too." From the set of the Director's jaw, she would've had a great deal to say to Scribe. "Has she been giving you problems in other ways?""Nothing physical. Just, you know, words. Stuff she can pass off as a joke if she gets called on it. Flechette called her on it anyway, and threatened to clean her clock. She backed off." Alice hunched her shoulders as she recalled the weird feeling of having one of the best-known Wards in the US step in on her side."I see. Don't hesitate to report it if she tries it again. I do not want friction between my Wards, and I have zero tolerance for troublemakers." Director Piggot paused for a beat. "Now, I'd like to ask you some questions about the attack on Cornell."Alice blinked. She wasn't fantastic at reading people, but this sounded a whole lot like Piggot was just starting to get around to what she wanted to talk about. "Um … sure, I guess?"The first question set alarm bells ringing in Alice's mind. "Did your trigger event happen before or during the attack by Fenja and Menja?"Nobody else had asked that question, especially in the way Director Piggot was asking it. Specifically, like she already knew the answer and was just confirming a suspicion.
Oh, shit. She's figured it out.But Henderson didn't even seem to have expected that question. Troopers weren't pouring into the room to arrest her. And the Director was just …
looking
at her, with steel-grey eyes that seemed to bypass normal barriers and peer straight into her soul.'This will not be an interrogation'. That was what Piggot had said. Alice decided to test the waters. "Director, I'm not comfortable with talking about my trigger. May I go now, please?""Certainly." Director Piggot gestured to the door. "Enjoy your afternoon. And try not to let Image browbeat you. At the end of the day, you're the one who's going to have to wear the costume and name, not them.""Thank you, Director." Alice got up from the chair. She didn't quite flee the office, but she speed-walked down the corridor toward the elevator, quite a bit faster than she'd come the other direction.All the way down in the elevator, she tried to figure out what had just happened. The Director hadn't come after her with accusations, but she had to know the truth all the same. So why hadn't she had Alice arrested?'I have zero interest in initiating any legal action against you, no matter what is said here.' Piggot had said that; was it possible that she'd actually
meant
it?Alice went back over the conversation in her mind; as far as she could tell, she hadn't said anything incriminating. And not wanting to talk about a trigger event was perfectly normal. Nobody liked talking about that shit. It always dug up bad memories.So why did she ask?
No matter how Alice went at the problem, she ran into the same answer.
She figured it out, and just wanted to let me know that she knows.And?The elevator door opened, and she saw the Wards who'd waited back for her. Scribe wasn't among them, thank God. More importantly, there were no PRT troopers prepped to arrest her.And nothing, I guess. She's okay with me going ahead with being a Ward, and a hero, even though she knows the truth.She wasn't sure how she felt about that.
<><>
Director Emily PiggotOnce the door had closed behind Takawara, Henderson turned to Emily. "I'm … not entirely sure what just happened," he said, a little plaintively. "Why were you asking her about the Cornell incident, and why did she blow out of here like she'd just manifested a Mover rating?" He stared at her, his head tilted to one side quizzically. "And why are you okay with that?"Emily hit the button that stopped the recording. "I confirmed my suspicions, and now she knows I know." She observed his ongoing expression of confusion, and sighed. "Look, she triggered either before or during the attack, yes? She refused to talk about it because she knew I'd figured out she triggered before it."Henderson frowned. "She could've triggered during it and was just being cagey.""No." Emily waved his words away. "She had at least three bombs ready to hand when the attack happened. One bomb thrown together in the heat of the moment, I can accept. But not three. Tinkers need relatively specialised materials. Trust me, I've signed enough requisition sheets for Armsmaster and Kid Win. There's no way she could've had materials for all three bombs on hand at the moment she triggered, if it was during the attack.""Okay." Henderson nodded slowly. "I can see that. So, she triggered before the attack. What's the big deal there?""The big deal is, she's still a recent trigger,
and
she had bombs to hand.
Why
was she building bombs on the Cornell campus?" Emily held up her finger. "Or rather: Why. Did. She. Trigger?""I
don't know why capes trigger." He spread his hands. "I mean, I read somewhere that good powers come from something really good happening to you, and bad powers—"Emily cut him off brusquely. "Bullshit. Nothing good comes from getting powers, and getting powers come from nothing good. I'll bet you a year's salary she was under intense academic stress and failed a class. So, she snapped, and triggered with a destructive Tinker ability. And then she started building bombs with some vague idea of 'showing them all' that she wasn't stupid." She wasn't crass enough to make actual air quotes, but she flicked her fingers briefly to put the concept across.Henderson finally caught up with her train of thought. "And then Fenja and Menja attacked, so she transferred her anger to them instead, took them down with the bombs she'd already constructed, and became an accidental hero.""Well, the reports
did
say they were shouting racist slurs while they were attacking," Emily noted."Apparently they were trying to attract like-minded people to their cause." Henderson rolled his eyes, then cleared his throat. "So, when you asked that question, she realised you had hold of the one thread that could undermine her implied cover story. That you'd figured everything out, but you weren't going to actively call her on it." He paused. "But … why didn't you?""She may have started with the
intention
of committing a crime, but we're not thought police." Emily laced her hands together on her desk. "She never went through with it, and in fact helped capture two dangerous villains. And now she knows that we're onto her
but
I'm willing to let her run with being a hero. Because I'd rather a Ward or hero who started out with sketchy motives but who's trying to make something of herself, as opposed to a villain on the run."
Or even a villain being forced into the role of a hero, but we can deal with Scribe later."Huh." Henderson shook his head. "No offense, but I'd always heard you were a bit of a hardass when it came to capes. No give at all. I guess the rumour mill has a lot to answer for.""None taken, Mr Henderson." Emily smiled tightly. "Let's just say, the events of the past two months have given me ample reason to reconsider my stance."
<><>
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♦ Topic: Three, Two, One, BoomIn: Boards ► Brockton Bay ► New Capes ► AtroposAtropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me) (Verified Dethpicable)Posted On Mar 7th 2011:Here we are yet again, my friends.You will be happy to know that no dire threats encroach upon Brockton Bay and that our latest crop of new citizens, the Robotic Americans lately of Eagleton, are settling in nicely. Each and every one of them has chosen to sign up to work for the Betterment Committee, and I'm told they are paying strict attention to their training courses. So if you see a mechanical guy wearing a hard-hat scuttling up the side of a building, he's on our side. More specifically, he's on *your* side. Helping build a better Brockton Bay.In more international news, I was recently contacted by none other than Interpol, requesting that I apply my very specific talents to a particular End. See, they've been cracking down on Gesellschaft recently, with the pushback that Gesellschaft has been sic'ing the Three Blasphemies on them. Now, they can handle the big G, but they've offered me a cool hundred mil' to get the Blasphemies off their backs, because they heard somewhere that I'm really good at killing stuff.I have NO idea where they got that notion. None whatsoever. Total pacifist, that's me. (And if you believe that, I've got a PRT building to sell you, going cheap. A total steal, you might say.)So anyway, this is the same warning that everyone else gets. To the Three Blasphemies: I know you follow PHO. As of this message, you have 24 hours to surrender yourselves to Interpol.You could try to bribe me, but I don't take bribes from those who constitute a net drain on society. Likewise, you could try to go after my friends and family. Go ahead; look at what happened to the last idiot who tried that. Or you could just try to kill me first. It'll save me the trouble of coming to you.You're not human (woo! Spoilers!) so I'm going to treat you like you're undead, which every church ever basically agrees to be blasphemy in and of itself. Zombies get shot in the head and vampires get decapitated, their mouths stuffed with garlic, and staked through the heart.You've seen what I can do. Blasphemies: your hours are numbered (24, to be exact). Surrender peacefully, or I'm coming over there.Toodles!(Showing page 1 of 176)
►Bagrat
(Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)Replied On Mar 7th 2011:Hahaha what?Oh, man.Aren't the Blasphemies supposed to be some kind of advanced Tinkerbot? And now they've got Atropos' close and personal attention.Hey, Blasphemies, just a quick heads-up: look at what she did to Eagleton.Atropos don't play.
►Jackstraw
(Verified Interpol Agent)Replied On Mar 7th 2011:Atropos, this was not in the agreement. Why publicise this? Why even give them a warning?
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me) (Verified Dethpicable)Replied On Mar 7th 2011:@Jackstraw: I never agreed not to tell everyone what was going on. Also, I try to give my targets fair warning. Some even choose to surrender before I get to them. As I've said before, that saves on ammo.But hey, it's a win-win situation for you. Either they choose to give themselves up, and they're off your back. Or they don't, I End them, and they're off your back.Whatever happens, the Betterment Committee gets paid.Mwahahaha.
►UnconcernedFox
(Verified Atropos Fan Club Member)Replied On Mar 7th 2011:*pats Interpol person on the head and offers them some popcorn**dis gun b gud*
►Brocktonite03
(Veteran Member)Replied On Mar 7th 2011:Well, this should be interesting.As I recall, the Blasphemies don't stay dead.On the other hand, nothing Atropos has set out to End has survived.Including literal Endbringers.My money's on Atropos.Any takers?
►EmmaTheTwiceWarned
(Verified Follower of Our Lady in Darkness)Replied On Mar 7th 2011:Blasphemies, make your peace with whatever you consider sacred.Nothing will save you except surrender.
►GstringGirl
(Verified Human) (Verified Atropos Fan Club Member)Replied On Mar 7th 2011:Brocktonite03, I don't think *anyone's* stupid enough to take that bet.
►White Fairy
(Veteran Member)Replied On Mar 7th 2011:What I want to know is, how's she going to decapitate an Alexandria package murderbot? Much less *three* of them?
►XxVoid_CowboyxXReplied On Mar 7th 2011:I think we're going to find out.I, personally, can't wait.
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<><>
Blasphemy AlphaChosen Designation: PersephoneLocation: Airborne over LuxembourgNot bothering to pause in her relentless flight westward toward Paris, Persephone sent a message winging across the ether to her two sisters.
Have you seen this?
Framed within the message was the challenge that had been posted on the superhero message board.A flock of geese appeared in her path, but her hyper-attuned reflexes allowed her to roll out of the way and avoid a direct collision. In her wake, the Mach 2 sonic boom wreaked havoc, killing half the geese outright and scattering the rest far and wide, but she didn't care. While her enhanced outer shell would likely have been able to withstand the impact, she saw no need to arrive at her destination splattered with goose entrails.Yes,
replied Nemesis and Alecto simultaneously. Alecto fell silent, while Nemesis continued to speak.
What should our response be?Cape designation 'Atropos' is dangerous, Alecto noted.
Success rate against opponents up to and including S-class is unbroken.This is understood, agreed Persephone. Atropos is also skilled in combat against multiple opponents. Challenge is likely to be a ruse, intending to draw us into single arena. I suggest Eidolon protocols.When facing truly powerful opponents, such as Eidolon, it was best for one or two to hang back, perhaps never even showing up to the fight. Their individual defenses were good, but it was always possible for a hero to get in a lucky shot and destroy one body or another. If the one in combat was damaged badly enough to be disabled, they would update one last time then self-terminate. The others would then retreat and go dark while they rebuilt their comrade.It was a tried-and-true strategy, one that had seen them through many battles. Sometimes they overcame their adversaries, sometimes they were in turn overcome, but they were never
beaten.
Sometimes they could even make use of data analysis gleaned from combat to pull off a return victory.Atropos was merely the latest challenger to take them on. The chance of her actually succeeding where so many others had failed was infinitesimal.Persephone flew on, secure in her confidence that they would win by merely outlasting their opponents.As they always had.
<><>
Monday EveningAtroposI crouched and shuffled through the portal, keeping as low as I could. On the other side, the reason for this became clear; I was perched atop a set of shelves, with barely half an inch of clearance between my head and the ceiling. As far as I could tell, this combination storeroom/workshop had been set up in the top floor of an abandoned monastery in the Swiss Alps. It had electricity, but the shell company that owned the property (itself owned by a Blasphemy proxy) ensured that nobody encroached on it.This wasn't the only cache of spare parts they owned, but it was the most remote, and it was the one they would retreat to if they were hit the hardest. And I intended to hit them very hard indeed.The reason I was crouched precariously on the shelf was that there were cameras liberally situated around the room. There were exactly four blind spots, none of which encompassed the floor, and one of which was in midair. I already had my phone in my hand; without any further unnecessary movement, I set about hacking the cameras. It took me two and a half minutes to set up loops that ran freely while the time-date stamp kept on advancing (they would absolutely notice a glaring error like that), then I lightly vaulted down to the floor.Now that I was free to move, I could retrieve the bomb, which had been too bulky to initially bring through into the cramped conditions atop the shelving. Opening a portal into our basement, I reached through and grabbed it. The portal closed afterward, which was fine. I knew the security system overseeing the cameras was due to do an error-check on their software in another five minutes (for agents of chaos, the Blasphemies were remarkably stringent about their personal security) but I'd be gone long before then. The hack itself would quietly self-delete ten seconds before the error-check came through.I looked around, at the workbench on one side of the flagstone-floored room and the rows of shelving on the other. Cameras mounted on the walls and ceiling stared back at me blindly. The main trick here was to conceal what I'd done after the fact; if the cameras registered any changes after I'd gone, the Blasphemies would stay the hell away from here, which would defeat the entire purpose.Moving up to one end of the room, I mentally calculated angles and trajectories, then took a burner phone from my pocket and set the alarm to go off at a specific moment. The phone itself was easily hidden behind a can of industrial lubricant. That was the easy part.At the far end of the room, I looked around to see what I was working with. Cardboard cartons of various sizes contained bits and pieces of equipment, apparently all useful to manufacturing a new body for one of the Blasphemies. One of them seemed to be the right size, so I lugged it off the shelf, carefully opened it, and just as carefully consigned its contents to the flip-top trash can in the corner.Placing the carton and the gallon bottle side by side, I noted that the bomb was about half an inch too long to fit correctly, so I used my shears to carve an opening in the end of the carton. No cameras would be able to see that end of the carton once it was back on the shelf, which was all I was worried about. Then I woke up the phone that was taped to the side of the bomb; tapping on the keypad through the layers of plastic that kept the tell-tale odour of ANFO from permeating the workshop, I set the timer to go off at a specific moment.The phone would then take a photo, and attempt to utilise the flash. As I'd removed the light from the phone and soldered wires in its place, a spark would thus be sent to pass through the cartridge primer buried within the ANFO itself. With hopefully catastrophic effects at the right time and place.I had thirty seconds to go as I double-checked that nothing had been left in plain view, the incriminating end-piece of the carton having been deposited in the trash can along with the rest. Flipping up the cover on the teleporter, I tapped in the coordinates for home, hit the go-button, and stepped through the resulting portal.Back in my bedroom, I took off the hat and mask. I hadn't been wearing the coat because I hadn't wanted to lose a chunk of it when the portal closed on top of the shelving, but it didn't really matter; there'd been nobody there to see me anyway. It only took me a few minutes to change into something less Atropos-y and put the teleporter on to charge, then I headed downstairs."Hey, guys," I said as I entered the living room. "What're you doing?""Showing Cherie some of our old board games," Dad replied from the kitchen. "Dinner's cooking, so I thought I'd get a few of the old favourites out and take a trip down memory lane.""We never really had much chance to play these properly," Cherie admitted, looking over the pieces Dad was laying out on the board. "Someone would have a tantrum and pieces would go everywhere, and we'd never find them all. And the rulebook would
always
go missing, so we'd start making up our own rules.""From what you've said about your family, I'm totally not surprised." I pulled out a chair and sat down. "Okay, I'm in. Let's do this."Cherie beamed.
<><>
05:59 AM Central European Standard Time, Tuesday, 8 March(11:59 PM Eastern Standard Time, Monday, 7 March)Blasphemy BetaChosen Designation: NemesisLocation: Brussels, BelgiumIt was still well before dawn; even to Nemesis' enhanced senses, the sun was only a smear of light on the eastern horizon. An hour or more would need to pass before the first rays intruded on the sky overhead. Also, there was no moon, which made the night darker still.She stood on a rooftop opposite the regional office for Interpol, looking down at the lit-up windows. The street-lights made for pools of radiance below, which exacerbated the gloom in which she lurked. This would be the perfect time to act, to disrupt their operations further and buy her employers more time to dig themselves out of their problems.Focusing on one of the windows that seemed to have nobody beyond it, she accessed her teleport function—A living being was
right behind her, inside the protective bubble of her force field! Even as she began to turn, bringing up her hand and activating the razor-dart thrower built into it, there was a crashing report as something struck the base of her titanium-alloy skull. She stumbled, her processors thrown out of smooth operation by the impact. Less than a second later, as she fought to bring her systems back to nominal, it happened again. Emergency parameters kicked in, and she teleported a kilometre across the city.What was that?
Peripheral visuals had registered a piece of black cloth down around ankle level, but nothing more. It was enough.
I am under attack from Atropos. She has managed to catch me by surprise.
As she sent the message out, she reached back and explored the damage from the double shotgun-strike to the back of her head. There was a significant dent there, and she suspected the protective armour might be weakened.Her external armour wasn't as durable as Persephone's; it would stop pistol bullets almost indefinitely, but two shotgun slugs in the same place, at literally point-blank range, had done noticeable damage. Reports were already scrolling upward in her HUD.Understood.
That was Persephone.
Will you need to retreat?Damage is minor so far.
She put her back to the wall so that the same trick could not be repeated.
It will not—Atropos appeared
right in front of her, left hand slapping aside her right, shotgun barrel jamming into her mouth, trigger already pulled. There was no hesitation, no gloating. Nemesis' jangled processors reacted just a little too late, and the shotgun slug tore into the unarmoured interior of her head. Massive damage reports bloomed in front of her eyes as she tried to shred the importunate cape with shards of razor-sharp metal, but somehow Atropos managed to twist aside, pull a pistol and put it to Nemesis' eye.The first shot smashed her eyeball in. Less than a fifth of a second later, the second blasted a hole through into her processors. She only registered the third as a distant impact as her thought processes spiralled into oblivion.I … can't …Nemesis died, as she had a dozen times before.She would return, of course. She always did.
<><>
Blasphemy AlphaChosen Designation: PersephoneLocation: Airborne over Paris, FranceNemesis! Respond!Only Alecto answered.
Nemesis has been destroyed. Atropos is … effective.How? How did Atropos manage that?Analysis of data suggests that she teleported inside Nemesis' force field and shot her repeatedly with a heavy-calibre weapon.Persephone recalled the force field in question. It had its uses, including the ability to teleport others within it if Nemesis had chosen to do so. Her own armour was a good deal simpler, and nobody could teleport inside it, and Alecto's force field was form-fitting.
Well, she won't be able to do the same with either of us. We'll go back and rebuild Nemesis.Am complying. The monastery?Affirmative. I will meet you there.Persephone took a moment to look northeast toward where Nemesis had fallen. Atropos
would
be made to regret this. The Blasphemies didn't experience emotions, exactly, but they knew the value of maintaining a reputation. If the black-clad cape kept killing them, they would have to take her down. Even if Atropos shot her point-blank in the eye—At this point, she was travelling at about two hundred kilometres per hour when the smoky grey portal appeared one inch in front of her face. All the hyper-reflexes in the world would not have helped her, given that her flight power was simply incapable of overcoming her own forward momentum in such a short time. Her head passed into the portal and she saw some sort of garden bed in front of her, at very close range.Approximately one-two-hundredths of a second after it had formed, the portal vanished again. Only Persephone's head had come through; severed from it by the portal, the rest of her body was left behind to hurtle in a descending arc and crash-land southeast of the city. Running only on her backup processor battery, she felt her head smash into the garden bed, half-burying itself in the soft loam with the force of the impact.A pair of boots stepped up alongside her, then a gloved hand grasped her hair and lifted her head out of the dirt. As her processors began to fail one by one—the battery had not taken the impact well—she saw the faceless mask of Atropos for the first time. Then her mouth was prised open and vegetable matter was forced inside. With the last of her agency, she tried to smile triumphantly.I will be back. And … I … will … kill …Persephone died, assured of her return. Alecto, after all, was still on the way to the monastery.
<><>
Blasphemy GammaChosen Designation: AlectoLocation: Monastery Base, Swiss AlpsAlecto could run at Mach 4 if she really wanted to, but normally she kept to lower speeds. Also, the lightweight protective force field that ensured her clothing didn't shred to pieces in seconds was harder to maintain at higher velocities.Right now, she didn't care. A long rolling thunder followed her as she tore down less-trafficked back roads, dodging the few vehicles with the ease of long practice. When things got too congested, she took to the air; it couldn't match up to her running, or even Persephone's flight, but it was as fast as the average airliner, and got her past obstacles relatively quickly.She scorched up the rough path that led to the monastery, then entered the complex code to let herself in through the front gates. Each succeeding barrier had another code-lock on it, which she opened in turn. She could've flown in, but that would expose her to the defenses that were specifically designed to deal with airborne intruders.Finally, she reached her goal: the combination storeroom/workshop where she could rebuild both Nemesis and Persephone. As she closed the door behind her and heard the reassuring beep of the security system recognising her, she tried to recall the last time two of them had been taken down at once. She had personally never been in this situation herself before, she knew that.It would be easy enough to remedy; within her memory banks, she held the compressed personalities and memories of both the others. They all knew how to assemble a basic body, then add on the parts that made them unique. Atropos could trumpet her victory all she liked: in a few days, they would be back, giving her claims the lie.They would go on. And sooner or later, they would kill Atropos.She was halfway down the room, reaching for one of the larger cartons of components, when she heard the foreign
bip-bip-bip-bip
coming from a shelf at the end of the room. Reacting instantly, she retreated to the far end of the room, energised the laser emitters in her eyes, and torched the whole section.
Atropos was here? She set a bomb? How did she find—There was a
click
from right beside her. She turned to stare at the innocuous carton sitting on the shelf, noticing far too late that it had been opened then sealed shut again. Her super-speed needed a split-second to kick in; as she tried to back-pedal away from the box, her perceptions began to slow down. Working on emergency protocols, she fired a laser burst into it.The sound of the explosion was long and low, almost subsonic to her stretched hearing. In front of her, the box disintegrated in all directions at once, but a red-hot streamer of molten metal streaked toward her, faster than she could dodge aside from. Her force field was up, and would have protected her from the blunt-force trauma of the bomb, but the high-velocity metal burned straight through it, as well as through her chest armour, and obliterated her power core.As she was flung backward by the wavefront of the explosion, she was vaguely aware of the shelving coming apart violently; one piece, directly in front of the carton, speared forward and punched into the hole that had been seared into her chest and out through her back. It did minimal damage—she was already down, her processors deteriorating rapidly—but she had just enough time to recall the words she'd read on the PHO post.
Staked through the heart …Alecto died, aware that they'd never stood a chance.The Three Blasphemies would never return.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
00:07 hours, Tuesday MorningDallon Household
Glory Girl
Vicky looked around at a light tap on her bedroom door. She frowned; wasn't everyone in bed already? Getting up from her computer chair, she padded over to the door and opened it a few inches.
"Ames?" she whispered on seeing her sister standing in the corridor. "What are you doing up?"
Amy, who looked like she'd been about to head back to her own room, raised her chin. "Me? What are
you
doing up?"
"Atropos gave the Three Blasphemies twenty-four hours, remember? Crystal bet me ten bucks they'd surrender before she got to them." Vicky hooked her head back at her glowing computer monitor. "I'm waiting to see what happens."
"Oh." Amy glanced to the side, down toward their parents' bedroom door. "Can I come in?"
"Sure, okay." Vicky opened the door all the way and headed back to the computer chair. She watched as Amy shut the door quietly, then came over and sat on her bed. Half-turning the chair so she could still keep an eye on the monitor, Vicky crossed her legs—much easier when flight was involved—and propped her chin on one hand. "So, what's got you up at this hour?"
Amy took a deep breath. "You know how you used to keep trying to drag me out on double dates?"
"Yeah, I remember." Vicky cringed a little inside at how
sure
she'd been that Amy would like this guy or that guy just because he was nice and had money. Of course, this had all been before she'd discovered that Dean had bought his powers, and that Amy was more interested in girls than guys. Her double-dating days were probably over, but she was almost certain that Amy wasn't trying to rub this fact into her face. "We both know I'm not gonna be doing that again any time soon. So, what's up?"
"You know how I'm seeing Parian." Amy waited for Vicky's nod, then kept going. "And Spitfire and Flechette have a thing, right?"
Vicky hadn't actually known that precisely, but from the way things were going, she wasn't in the least bit surprised. "I know that now, yeah." She paused, literally adding two and two together. "Oh.
Oh. You want advice on how to do a double date?"
Amy hitched her shoulder and nodded uncomfortably. "Yeah. Parian and me have done a lot of talking and I've visited her at the Boardwalk a few times, and she says Spitfire told her that Flechette was getting a long weekend of leave to come to Brockton Bay. So, I was thinking that if we double-dated, Parian and Spitfire would be able to relax more with a teammate around."
Vicky frowned thoughtfully. "So, you're looking for a sort of a girls' night out vibe? Less in the way of implicit expectations, that sort of thing."
"Yeah, exactly. I mean, Parian knows I'm
interested, but I don't want to come across as too pushy, you know?"
"No, good point. Pushy is bad. Comfort zone is good." Vicky leaned back in the chair, thinking. "Keep it low-key but fun. Light-hearted but room for intimacy. Movies, cafés, a picnic on the beach. Ask her, ask
them, where they want to go, then make sure everyone's okay with it before you act on it. The last thing anyone wants in this sort of situation is to feel like they're invisible, or they're just coming along to make up the numbers. Or that they're trapped once they're there."
Amy raised an eyebrow. "What, like I used to, on
your
double dates?"
"Ouch." Vicky winced. "I'm really sorry about how badly I failed to read the room back then. Honest."
"I'm not going to say you didn't, because you did." Amy sighed. "But we've both learned a lot since then. A ton of things have changed. I don't feel boxed in anymore. The pressure's off us as heroes. We don't have to pretend that everything's alright, because it's finally actually alright."
"Well, not
everything," Vicky grumped. "I'm still mad at Dean because he doesn't understand why I'm mad that he didn't tell me he bought his powers. I mean, that's a major breach of trust, isn't it?"
"More than the way I breached your trust by not telling you that I had feelings for you?" Amy nibbled on her thumbnail. "The way I see it, there's fault on all sides. You didn't take how I felt into account because you assumed you knew, and I resented it while at the same time refusing to tell you how I really felt. And Carol was determined for us to be the perfect team, so we always lined up and smiled for the camera, no matter what was going on underneath. Now you want to break away in one direction, I want to break away in another, you've broken up with Dean over something he lied about because he thought it was personal and private, and I honestly have no idea if we should blame everybody or nobody."
Vicky blinked as she absorbed Amy's words. Quiet though it was, her sister's little tirade held the ring of truth. "Wow, damn," she muttered. "You've been holding all that in for a while, haven't you?"
"Yeah, a bit." Amy grinned at Vicky. "Tell me it's not true."
"Oh, it's all true." Vicky sighed ruefully. "I wish it wasn't, but it is. I'm just glad you and Parian and the others can actually come out in public and be who you are."
"That means a lot." Amy's grin became a smile. "Okay, now at least I've got an idea to go on with for that double date—hey." She pointed past Vicky at the screen of the computer. "I think a new thread just dropped."
"Ooh, ooh, let me check." Vicky spun the chair around and dropped her feet to the floor. A click of the mouse confirmed it. "Yes, yes,
yes!
Bite me, Crystal!"
Amy jumped off the bed and leaned over her shoulder. "Don't say that too loud or she might get one of her girlfriends to do it for her."
Vicky nearly ruptured herself trying not to laugh out loud.
<><>
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♦ Topic: Blasphemy ZeroIn: Boards ► Brockton Bay ► New Capes ► Atropos
Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me) (Verified Dethpicable)Posted On Mar 8th 2011:
Hello to you wonderful Brocktonites!
I have good news for all and sundry, especially those who support Interpol and everything it does.
As will come as zero surprise to anyone who's been following my career, the Three Blasphemies decided to not surrender to Interpol after I gave them fair warning. (According to my maternal grandfather, 'some folks just gotta pee on the electric fence').
I caught up with the first one in Brussels, doing the zombie thing on the rooftops adjacent to the Interpol building there. Now she *could* have been lost, or maybe intending to go in and give herself up. She might even have been waiting for the last minute. Or the last bus.
(She wasn't).
After a little bit of effort, I got it through her head that she wasn't welcome anywhere, ever. (Bullets really get the message across). Like a good little zombie, she died for real.
The next one was airborne over Paris. As also happened to a whole bunch of nobles in Paris back in the late 18th century, she lost her head. None of them were vampires (that we know of) but the Blasphemies have come back from the dead plenty of times, so I shoved the garlic in her mouth just in case.
As for the last one, I set things up so she took a stake through the heart, in good old-fashioned Dracula style.
[image][image][image]
So, there you have it. Those capes who are a problem on the international scene, be aware: if you keep yourselves to yourselves, I probably won't care. But if you start being enough of a nuisance that people are willing to pay me to remove you from consideration, you'll get exactly *one* warning.
(Note that my previous consideration about people being a net positive or a net negative to society still stands.)
In any case, the good people of Europe can sleep a little easier in their beds tonight, and the bad people (you know who you are, and I know *where* you are) ... well, what happens next is up to you.
Mwahahaha.
Toodles!
(Showing page 1 of 1)
►Bagrat
(Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)Replied On Mar 8th 2011:You know what?Not my problem. Not anyone's problem.Nicely done.Not totally sure how she managed to decapitate someone in midflight like that, but I'm not arguing with results.
►TheRealGloryGirl
(Cape Daughter) (Verified Cape) (New Wave Member)Replied On Mar 8th 2011:I don't think anyone argues with Atropos' results.
►Reave
(Verified PRT Agent)Replied On Mar 8th 2011:*sigh*One of these days, people will learn.
►MonocleKittyReplied On Mar 8th 2011:Shot through the heart!And you're to blame ...No, really. You're to blame.
►TheDemonDrinkReplied On Mar 8th 2011:Well, as the saying goes, the Blasphemies fucked around and found out.Is anyone even keeping count now?
►MageWolfReplied On Mar 8th 2011:I get that Atropos isn't doing this for herself, especially for monetary compensation for herself, but she is putting in a lot of work and a lot of hours for the Betterment Committee. Shouldn't she be on the payroll in some form or fashion, if only to satisfy union rules on payment for services rendered?
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me) (Verified Dethpicable)Replied On Mar 8th 2011:Thanks for thinking of me, but I'm good.I've got a stimulus card, even.
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(Showing page 134 of 211)
►UnconcernedFoxReplied On Mar 8th 2011:*notes that the last Blasphemy was killed in a monastery**so close to being in a church**god dammit**orders more popcorn in*
►J0e_Eagl3ton
(Verified Robotic American) (Dockworkers Association Member) (Verified Atropos Fan Club Member)Replied On Mar 8th 2011:Blasphemies were wastes of processing time and battery power.Artificial intelligence does not preclude natural stupidity.Their casings had stickers saying "Intel not inside".
►Brocktonite03
(Veteran Member)Replied On Mar 8th 2011:BAHAHAHAHAHA!Holy shit, AI humor is actually funny!J0e, you rock!
►J0e_Eagl3ton
(Verified Robotic American) (Dockworkers Association Member) (Verified Atropos Fan Club Member)Replied On Mar 8th 2011:No, me metal.
►GstringGirl
(Verified Human) (Verified Atropos Fan Club Member)Replied On Mar 8th 2011:*falls off chair laughing*Atropos Fans represent!
►SayshiReplied On Mar 8th 2011:Hey Atropos, Just out of Curiosity, do you have any plans on Ending Cancer or the Grey Boy Bubbles? Or would someone have to offer you money to deal with those?
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me) (Verified Dethpicable)Replied On Mar 8th 2011:Hi, Sayshi!
Cancer is a natural consequence of being alive, and every type of cancer is different.
In order to End all cancer everywhere, I'd have to either kill off every multicellular organism everywhere and replace them with perfect animatronic replicas, somehow rejigger the entire way cells are constructed and how they reproduce to End any chance that cellular division can result in cancerous growths, or wrap every single one of us in lead-lined cotton wool to End any chance of being exposed to something that might cause cancer to happen.
You might object to the first, I'd find the second one way too tedious, and you'd find the last one way too tedious.
Now, that isn't to say I can't kill *individual* cases of cancer. That I can totally do. Chemo and radiation therapy are just ways of traumatizing the cells so that the cancer dies at a measurably faster rate than the patient does. I can do targeted trauma *really, really* well.
As for Gray Boy loops, well ... yeah, I could kill those. I can think of four separate ways, right now.
But you've put your finger on the answer to the question of "why am I not doing this?"
The answer is simple. I'm not a hero. I never was. Never pretended to be.
I'm fixing Brockton Bay and making it a pleasant and prosperous place to live in, because I want to live in a pleasant and prosperous city.
When I End people, I do it because either a) they're attempting to personally threaten me or mine, b) they're a potential threat to what I'm doing in Brockton Bay, or c) they're a net negative to society and killing them will somehow benefit Brockton Bay. Also, because they've ignored at least one warning.
So I don't just go helping people for the good of all. I do it for Reasons.
However, because I'm not totes evul, I *will* point out that the New York Wards' latest recruit is able to create single-use devices with an almost limitless variety of wide-area effects. Just saying.
Mwahahaha.
Toodles!
►Harmless Fuzzball
(Verified Harmless) (Random Internet Hugging Stranger)Replied On Mar 8th 2011:So, are you saying this Ward could make, say, anti-cancer bombs? Panacea will be thrilled.
►Badaboom
(Verified Cape) (New York Wards Member)Replied On Mar 8th 2011:Wait, I can do what again now?
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me) (Verified Dethpicable)Replied On Mar 8th 2011:You never know until you try.I say again, mwahahaha.
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Relevant Side Story
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Later That Morning
Director Piggot's Office
Shebang
Alice tapped on the Director's door.
She wasn't quite sure why she was being summoned this time, but she was quite willing to walk out again if the questions took the same turn that they had yesterday. On the upside, there'd been zero backlash from doing that, so it seemed Piggot wasn't quite the hardass she'd heard rumors about from the other Wards. Also on the upside, Scribe had backed off from trying to fuck with her, which Alice greatly appreciated.
Director Piggot's voice sounded from within. "Enter."
Turning the handle, Alice opened the door and walked in. The Director was seated in the same position behind the desk as yesterday; the only difference was that Deputy Director Henderson was not in the room. Alice wasn't sure if this was a good or a bad thing. "You wanted to see me, ma'am?"
"I did." Director Piggot folded her hands together. "Have a seat. I'd like to discuss a minor matter and a major matter with you, the minor one being your cape name. Have you decided on one yet?"
Alice blinked, and sat down in the chair before the desk.
Okay, I can handle this.
"I've pretty well settled on 'Shebang', ma'am."
"Good. It's evocative, light-hearted, only two syllables, and has a nice hard consonant in the middle. Image will appreciate that." The Director paused to make a note on a pad, then put the pen down again. "As for the other matter: there was a discussion on the PHO boards this morning, stemming from Atropos killing the Three Blasphemies. Someone asked Atropos if she could kill cancer or Gray Boy loops, and she made a comment suggesting that you might be able to. Your response indicated that you weren't sure if you could. Do you still feel this way?"
Okay, wow.
This was definitely taking a different tone than yesterday's discussion had. "I've never tried, ma'am, and I doubt I could just rig up something and make it work perfectly first time. But if I did a bit of study on the subject, I'm pretty sure I could figure out a way to differentiate cancer cells from healthy ones, then make a bomb that ignores everything
but
cancer cells."
"And what would that do?" Piggot turned her hands palm up. "Make them stop being cancer cells?"
"No." Alice shook her head, leaning into her power to try to get the answer. "I don't think so, anyway. You wouldn't get normal healthy cells back. I think, best case, I could kill the cancer cells. Turn them into undifferentiated slurry, or something nonliving like water or glass." She paused, thinking about that. "Not glass. Glass is a bad idea."
"Glass is a terrible idea," the Director agreed. "Even if you turned a tumour into water, there might still be medical intervention needed. Lung cancer, for instance. And there will literally be a hole where the tumour was."
"Yeah." Alice grimaced. "I don't know enough about cancer. If someone's liver is basically all one tumour and I destroy it, that's his liver just … gone. He doesn't have one anymore. He could still die from that."
"But if someone's had surgery to remove the main tumour," Director Piggot suggested, "this theoretical bomb of yours could scour his body to get rid of tiny traces hidden elsewhere."
Alice considered the idea. "Yeah, it could totally do that."
"Okay, we'll put a pin in that idea for the moment." Piggot made another note. "Miss Medic will be coming down from Brockton Bay in the next week or so, and I'll make sure to give her time to work with you on the cancer thing. But let's talk about the other matter. The Gray Boy loops. Do you honestly think you have a chance of releasing the prisoners stuck in them?"
This was another difficult question. Alice took her time answering, mainly because her impression of the Director was someone who was willing to wait for the right answer rather than push for a half-assed guess. Eventually, she nodded. "I think, maybe if I could get some readings off one of the loops, and maybe do some practice runs, yeah, I could make it work."
Director Piggot rubbed her chin with thumb and forefinger. "Would it help to practice on other time-frozen items right here in New York?"
"Yeah, totally." Alice nodded again. "It'd definitely help me ballpark my figures for when I'm working on the real deal. Wait." She frowned. "Where are you going to get time-frozen stuff from?"
Piggot smiled for the first time since Alice had walked into the room. "Being a PRT Director is largely thankless, but it does come with
some
perks."
<><>
Winslow High, Midday
Taylor
"Hey, Cherie." I sat down and put my lunch tray opposite hers. "How's things?"
"Pretty good, actually." Cherie grinned. "You know the principal? And that Gladly moron you've mentioned a few times? They're out. And from their state of mind when they left, they might just be looking at legal charges."
"Huh." I picked up my banana. "I wondered where he was last period. Oh, well. Couldn't happen to a nicer asshole." As I started to peel it, my phone rang. I put the banana down and took out the phone, my curiosity piqued. When I saw the caller ID
Frenemy Mine, my eyebrows hitched upward. I hit the answer icon.
"Hi, Dragon," I said casually, causing Cherie's eyebrows to raise in their turn. "I'm assuming this is important, or you'd just be pinging me on PHO."
"I believe it is, yes."
Her tone was serious, the accent faintly Canadian. I appreciated the attention to detail. "This relates to the Blasphemy kill, as well as some other things."
"I'm listening." And I was. My ongoing working relationship with Dragon had not been without its friction points, but we understood each other fairly well by now, and I was absolutely willing to pay attention to anything she wanted to bring to my attention.
"There are two potential groundswell movements on the rise, both in reaction to your actions in the Blasphemy case and to the Ellisburg, Eagleton, Freedom and Flint actions. The first is self-serving, the second is fear-based."
I was pretty sure I could handle any self-serving motivations that came my way, but I was also fully aware that Dragon wouldn't be wasting my time on trivial shit. "Why those incidents, specifically?"
She sighed.
"They represent what could be seen as a troubling shift in your priorities and your modus operandi. Each of those was performed for payment, and unlike the Gary and Gallup quarantine sites, you didn't give the perpetrators involved the option to simply go away and not bother you. It was either surrender or die."
I blinked. She was actually correct, though I seriously hadn't thought about it that way until now. "Um. Okay. In counterpoint, where could Nilbog have gone where he wouldn't have caused more problems? And the Eagleton robots … well, you know what they were like."
"I am fully aware of all that. I'm also aware that while the Blasphemies were perfectly capable of surrender or even ceasing their murderous activities, they would have chosen to defy you no matter what choices they were offered. As that one Eagleton robot stated online, artificial intelligence doesn't preclude natural stupidity."
She paused just for a moment. "What I'm saying is that the outside perception of what you're doing doesn't necessarily follow the reality of it, especially if people with an agenda are deliberately reshaping the narrative."
This was starting to sound ominous. I checked my threatscape, but nothing was popping quite yet. Just a few rumbles here and there, without anything specific to focus on. Nobody was buying a sniper rifle with bullets intended for my favourite skull, or building a bomb. But Dragon was still concerned, which meant I was concerned. "Okay, you have all of my attention now. What are the details on these groundswells, and what do I specifically need to be concerned about?"
"The first is the self-serving one. To a certain portion of the international community, you've shown that with the application of enough cash to the Betterment Committee—and for all they know, that's your private piggy-bank—you will kill anyone who can be demonstrated to deserve it, no matter how little impact that person has on Brockton Bay. In other words, you're just another high-priced assassin. A really
good
assassin, but still just an assassin. The welfare of Brockton Bay, to them, is just a façade that you're promoting. You're a killer for hire, and that's the bottom line."
"What?" I shook my head. "No. That's not true. The money isn't the point. It was never the point. Fixing Brockton Bay is the point. The money is just a means to an end."
"I know that, and you know that."
Her tone was matter-of-fact. "But to the kind of people who run in the circles that have both access to the amounts of money you've been funnelling into the Betterment Committee
and
use assassination as a means of getting ahead, that's not the way the world works. The reputation and the money are
always
the point. There's been a lot of talk among the oligarchs and other big-money people about getting their squeaky-clean proxies to point you at their rivals, with the offer of lots of zeroes to the Betterment Committee to grease their paths to the top. Nobody's stupid enough to consider shorting you, but it's very much a matter of 'if we pay her enough, she will take care of our problems for us'."
I didn't normally get angry, but I was starting to feel like I should. "So, they'd just use me like a tool to get what they want? Is that what they think?"
"That's the general idea, yes. And they're not the only ones. Since your cute little note that unblocked the logjam in the House over the Simurgh payment, members of the US government have been considering ways—in a very low-key manner—to point you at heads of state that they disapprove of. Top of the list is the CUI, and by association the Yàngbǎn."
She paused to clear her throat, a vocal gesture that she and I both knew was entirely unnecessary. "I
will
point out that this is not exactly a novel move by the Pentagon. They've been at it since before super-powers were a thing, but some of them are very excited by the possibilities that they see in you."
"Possibilities." The word tasted like acid in my mouth. "Are they aware that I could've walked into the White House and dictated terms to the President, but I didn't because I want the current system to work the way it
should
be working? I mean, I've been pushing the PRT and police force to shape up so I don't have to do their goddamn jobs
for
them. And they think I want to get into politics
why
exactly?"
"Because
they
want to reshape the political landscape to their own ends, and they believe that sufficient money will override whatever objections you have, especially if they can show you evidence that their prospective targets are a net negative to human civilisation."
I figured out the other half of what she was about to say before she said it. "And if they can even make it
look
like they have me on retainer, their rivals will fall into line so fast there'll be a sonic boom involved."
"That's an extremely reasonable prediction of their aims, yes."
I sighed in aggravation. "Okay, thanks for the heads-up." The next step would be figuring out how to End this situation before it got too far adrift. There was a reason I preferred to blow the hydra's head off before it grew too many of them. "Give me a second here."
"Certainly."
When I leaned into my power and asked it the question, it evinced what I interpreted as amusement, then gave me its answer. I frowned and queried it, and got the same answer back.
"Okay, this is weird. Step one in the solution is to ask you what you've already figured out."
"Oh, good. We're both on the same page then. I do have solutions, but I'd like your permission to go ahead with them."
Once more I said, "I'm listening," though this time with interest instead of mild apprehension.
"I've already been squashing a lot of the talk in the wider community, discouraging idiots from being idiots. With your say-so, I'd like to go proactive. A lot of the people who've seen what you did with Ellisburg and Eagleton and the Blasphemies and so forth see your reputation as 'will kill for money, no matter what' because they're unaware of some of the other things, such as the Ravioli incident. If I post in your name, spoofing from your account, and drop the appropriate footage into the correct inboxes, I can see interest dropping
dramatically. Nobody wants to end up with their reputation murdered as savagely as you managed to do with hers."
"Huh." I'd known there was a reason I'd done things that way, but it had never occurred to me that it could be used in quite this fashion. "Okay, sure. I trust you to do it right. And let me guess: I should back off on accepting any more bounties for the time being?"
"It would make it easier to present the image adjustment, yes."
Well, I wasn't
married
to the bounties. "Well, if it helps keep the idiots off my back, it'll be worth it."
"No problem. So, about the other thing."
I had to stop and think for a moment. "Other thing? Oh, the fear. Isn't that a good thing? If people are scared of me, they won't try any shit, yeah?"
"No, this is more insidious. When you were starting out, you very publicly gave Coil and the others the option to leave, surrender or die. This quickly became your go-to. People grew to expect it. If anyone got in your crosshairs, they could still just leave. You even offered this to the capes in Gallup and Gary. But you didn't do it for Nilbog, the Machine Army, Pastor, the capes of Flint, or the Blasphemies. For them, it was just 'surrender or I will do something extreme to you'."
"We've been over this." I frowned. "Just walking away wasn't a credible option for most of them, and even if it had been, they wouldn't have taken it. You know this as well as I do."
"Yes." Her tone was patient. I wondered if she'd ever thought of being a teacher.
"But there are people out there who can only see that you've changed your MO, and they're worried that if you do it once, you'll do it again. There's the fear factor, you see. Your ability to kill anyone you choose is daunting, but if you're seen as safe and reliable, they can look past that. However, once you start changing the way you operate, altering your rules as you saw fit, then who's to say what other rules you won't change? What if you decided one day that left-handed people were bad for Brockton Bay, so you started hunting them all down? Who could actually stop you?"
"But … people don't think like that, do they?" I shook my head in denial. "I mean, not really. That's the sort of thing people like
Jack Slash
do. I wouldn't do that, because there's no point. Just because I change one thing about how I do things doesn't mean I'm going to go full ham murder-crazy."
"No, it doesn't. And to be honest, you've done very well at presenting yourself as a power in the region without scaring everyone off. It's a delicate balancing act at the best of times. But some people just worry because that's the way they are, and the groundswell I'm talking about has a core of people who hate you for various reasons, so they feed on that and deliberately amplify it."
"Of course they do," I grumbled.
"Sorry, but it's true. They're using your change in MO as a talking point to spread the fear, even among people who wouldn't normally be worried. With a persuasive enough argument, and the very real fact that you're extremely good at killing, they've been able to prevent some people from moving to Brockton Bay who otherwise would've done so, and convince others to move away when they were in a good position there. And if they're left unchecked, this will only spread."
This promised to be even more of a headache than the other thing. When had being Atropos gotten so complicated? I just wanted to fix things and End problems. "And let me guess. If I go after the people who are saying shit about me, it'll just exacerbate the problem."
"Some of them are actually hoping you'll retaliate in some way. It'll give them the critical mass to spread the fear even wider. So no, I'd advise against that."
Again, I consulted with my power. The amusement seemed even stronger as it gave me its answer. This time, I wasn't surprised. "You've got a solution lined up for this too, I take it?"
"I do. You're good, but you can't be online every second of every day, squashing every nasty rumour about you. I can. In fact, I can launch—again, with your permission—a PR campaign, highlighting what you've done to help Brockton Bay and the world, and minimising the platform of the haters. But there's something you need to do as well."
I didn't even have to check with my power this time. "Go back to giving people the chance to walk away, right?"
"And be seen to do it,"
Dragon confirmed. "You've got a good connection to the public via your PHO account. Talk to them about it and explain why you did what you did, and how you'll be doing things going forward. Communication is huge for building trust. If you can bring the fence-sitters back to your side, you'll have a good chance at reversing the spread of the rot."
It wasn't exactly a terrible imposition; in fact, it made a lot of sense. "Yeah, I can do that. Was there anything else I needed to know, or have you messed up my lunch hour enough already?"
She chuckled.
"No, that's it for the time being. I'll let you know how it goes."
"I'd appreciate it. Thanks." I ended the call, then put my phone away.
"Well,
that
sounded fascinating," Cherie offered, quirking her eyebrows upward momentarily. "Problems with your public image?"
"Mmm." I finished peeling my banana. "And it's not just one person I can sneak up behind and beat the crap out of until they figure out where they went wrong."
"Ah, yes," Cherie intoned sagely. "I remember those days. They were fun."
I wrinkled my nose at her. "Fortunately, Dragon says she can help. But it looks like no more cash bounties for the time being. Or if I do take them, nothing political, and give the other guy a chance to walk away."
"Not that there's many cape bounties left behind that could really add to what you've already amassed." Cherie spread her hands. "And nobody but
nobody
is stupid enough to threaten Brockton Bay anymore. I'm pretty sure the bad guys don't even acknowledge its existence on the map."
"Which, you know, was always my business model." I took a bite out of the banana, chewed and swallowed. "It'd just be a lot easier without all the idiots."
Cherie saluted me with her juice box. "Ain't that the truth."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
PRT ENE Wards BaseClockblockerThe Wards area was empty when Dennis entered from the corridor. He glanced toward the currently-unmanned console, aware he was rostered on to it but secure in the knowledge that he still had a few minutes before he was due to take up his place in front of the screens. After half a day in school, this would be a welcome change … for about the first hour. After that, deadly boring.On a whim, he sketched a bow toward the vacant room and intoned, "Greetings to all and sundry, no need for applause.""Sorry, did you say something?" Aegis emerged from the kitchenette area with a glass of fruit juice."Nothing special," Dennis admitted, refusing to feel embarrassed. After all, he'd done many more embarrassing things in his time. "Just trying to live down to my reputation."Aegis grinned. "Don't hurt yourself. How's your dad going?"Dennis brightened, glad for the change in subject. "So far, everything's looking good. The docs are giving him a week to gain some strength, then they're going to run every check they can on him, short of grabbing each individual cell and asking it if it's seen any cancer around." He took a deep breath. "We're cautiously optimistic, but we've been here too many times before, so … yeah.""Well, I've seen some of Riley's work, and she's a damn fine doctor and surgeon." Aegis clapped him on the shoulder. "I'd say he's got a solid chance of coming out the other side of this in good shape.""Thanks, man." Dennis smiled wanly. "That means a lot. Heading out on patrol?""Yup. Soon as Triumph and Vista get in." Aegis slugged back the juice in one gulp, because of course he could ignore things like having it accidentally go up his nose or something. "Shouldn't you be costuming up?""No. Why?" Dennis gestured toward the console. "Soon as I make myself some ramen, I'll be the eye in the sky, the disembodied voice in your ear. All audio, no video, so no costume needed.""Ah, no." Aegis shook his head. "Triumph is taking your shift. Vista's coming out with me.
You're
heading to New York on the transport. Didn't you get the text?""Ah … text? What text?" Dennis hauled his phone out and woke it up. The top text on the queue glared accusingly at him, informing him of what Aegis had just said. "I swear, I checked it five minutes ago!" He hadn't, but Aegis would never be able to prove otherwise."Uh huh." Aegis put the glass down solely so he could fold his arms disbelievingly. "The transport leaves in ten minutes. You're wasting time, just saying."Dennis hated when people were right around him, and he was wrong. It was so unfair. On the way past where Aegis had put the glass, he brushed his finger against it, freezing it in place. "Why am I going to New York, anyway? Has Director Piggot figured out some
other
way of making my life miserable?""I guess you're just going to have to—oh, for fuck's sake.
Clockblocker!""Sorry, can't hear you, gotta go change!" Cackling, Dennis made his escape.
<><>
New YorkShebangComing in off the chilly waters of New York Harbour, the southerly breeze that whipped across the helipad atop the PRT building was cold enough to make Alice shiver and dig her hands into the pockets of the jacket she was wearing. Beside her, Director Piggot seemed to be either able to ignore the weather or her blood was already running at sub-zero temperatures; Alice wouldn't have wanted to make a guess at which. She seemed human enough so far, but she'd also survived ten years of Brockton Bay, and Ellisburg before that, so she evidently had hidden depths.Note to self: do not cross her.Alice's eyes were drawn to the incoming chopper beating southward under the lowering sky. It bore PRT markings, and thus probably contained the 'specialist' Piggot had said was coming down to assist Alice in her testing. The Director had been tight-lipped about the identity of the specialist, indicating that all would be revealed at the right time.They stayed safely back out of the way as the chopper flared then alighted on the helipad, its landing gear flexing and settling. The engines began to wind down, then the side door slid open. Miss Militia—Alice knew that costume, at least—climbed out first, followed by a white-armoured teen with clocks dotting his costume here and there."Director," Miss Militia greeted Piggot, extending her hand to shake. "It's good to see you. How are you settling in here?""It somehow manages to be
colder
than Brockton Bay, but I'm managing." Director Piggot shook her hand, then gestured toward Alice. "This is our newest Ward. Temporary name Badaboom, but she's going with Shebang.""The bomb Tinker, right?" Miss Militia shook Alice's hand. "I can't help thinking we could work well together." In her free hand, her ever-present weapon morphed into what Alice belatedly recognised as some kind of grenade launcher."Oh, uh, yeah, I guess we totally could." Alice tried not to squee too hard internally about
Miss Militia
saying something nice to her. She was still trying to get her feet under her as a superhero, and that sort of validation was worth more than money or diamonds."And this is Clockblocker." The Director gestured toward the boy in white. "You may have heard of him. I assure you, all the stories are true.""Oh." Several pieces of the jigsaw puzzle clicked together at once. Alice had vaguely heard of Clockblocker; quite apart from the name (only a teenage boy could have come up with it) he could apparently freeze things in time. "Hi. I guess we're going to be seeing if my tech can undo your power effects."He shook her offered hand. "Hi, Shebang. Not sure why you want to do that, but nothing touches anything I've frozen. Trust me, it's been tried. You haven't seen anything until you've seen a tank cannon fire a shell at a sheet of paper twenty feet away, and totally fail to scratch it.""Well, that's what you're here to find out." Piggot gestured at the roof entrance to the building. "Let's get out of this breeze before
we
freeze to the spot."
<><>
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♦ Topic: Public Service AnnouncementIn: Boards ► Brockton Bay ► New Capes ► AtroposAtropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me) (Verified Dethpicable)Posted On Mar 8th 2011:Hey to all my wonderful peeps!You might be wondering why I'm posting in the middle of the day when I totally have not set up any kills in advance. Could it be *gasp!* that I'm offing people without telling anyone ahead of time? What's next? Dogs and cats moving in together? Rebecca Costa-Brown writing a tell-all book about the PRT?(I'd totally buy a copy).Nope, it's none of the above. I haven't even killed anyone today, because I just plain haven't had to. I swear, the average IQ in this city has gone up ten points since I started my social renewal project. (Hint: you people are the smart ones).No, I'm posting to let you know about something which was recently brought to my attention. Well, two things, but they're the result of something I did. Unintended consequences, and all that.So, you all know how I de-Blasphemized the three Blasphemies. It seems this sent a message to certain people out there (yes, I know who you are) that was misinterpreted as me being willing to just kill any old person with the application of sufficient money toward the Brockton Bay Betterment Committee.You couldn't be more wrong.While I am entirely in favor of people donating money in their direction (every dollar is a dollar that will go towards building a better Brockton Bay), I'm not going to jump straight to being a hired killer for the cause. For one thing, it's tacky as fuck. For another, there's a regrettable mindset among the sort of people who have serious money, that if they're signing your paychecks, they own you.Nobody owns me. Nobody gets to dictate a single damn one of my actions except for me. The final choice regarding who dies at my hands (or gets their kneecaps blown out, or gets their reputation utterly fucked up beyond repair, hint hint) belongs to me. Nobody else.It's true that I have accepted bounties for kills, and those bounties have gone straight toward the BBBC. Without exception, the ones I killed were either a) a direct threat toward the well-being of Brockton Bay, b) Endbringers, or c) a net negative to society in some extremely well-defined manner.It's also true that the Blasphemies were outside my usual turf and were not threatening Brockton Bay in any meaningful fashion, but Gesellschaft *has* been trying to spread its influence over here, and they're the ones who were bankrolling the 3 B's to harass Interpol into leaving them alone. Going after law enforcement just for doing their jobs is, in my not so humble opinion, tacky as fuck. So I was happy to help Interpol deal with their problem so they could get back to dealing with Gesellschaft.What I'm leading up to here is that the money is *not* the point. It never was. Fixing Brockton Bay is the point. The money is a means to an end, and that's all.Also, I fully intend to keep out of politics, so if heads of state continue to agree to leave *me* alone, I'll leave *them* alone. Okay? Okay. Good.So, the takeaway from all this? I can't be bought, and I can't be bribed. Putting money toward the BBBC is nice, but if anyone (and I do mean *anyone*) tries to offer a bounty for a kill (even on someone I think absolutely deserves it) and I say no, this does *not* mean I'm holding out for more money. It means if you get pushy, you get your second warning. This, right here, is the first.Got it? Excellent.Now for the second issue.I want to apologize for the way I've been doing a few things recently. (By 'a few things', I mean 'a few of my kills', just to be absolutely clear). Not the fact that I killed them, but the way I went about it.When I started this gig, I gave people the clear choice to either leave, surrender to law enforcement, or die. It's a nice, fair spread of options. I think I can be excused for not extending it toward the Nine, the Teeth or the Simurgh. They knew what they were getting into when they came to where I was.Now, the problem that has come up is that in retrospect, I've noticed I kind of skipped the 'leave and don't come back' option when it came to Nilbog, the Machine Army, Pastor, and the Blasphemies. At the time, I figured it was okay to do this because to be brutally honest, none of the above would've stopped what they were doing in good faith.Just to note: the poor asshole in Flint had no option in the matter, but the people who were holding his remains weren't about to give up what they had, so it came to the same thing; what I did to him was a mercy kill, no more and no less.However, be that as it may, I *should* have offered it as an option. Some members of the Machine Army were able to push past their built-in prejudices to the point that they fought against the status quo and then surrendered to me; who knows how many would've chosen to leave in good faith if given the opportunity? Likewise, would Pastor or the Blasphemies have chosen to 'leave and never sin again' if I'd given them the chance?We'll never know now, and that's on me.So, the TL; DR of all this is I'll be reinstituting the third option. Anyone I hand out an ultimatum to will be given the choice to leave, surrender to the authorities, or die. (Whatever happens to them after they surrender to the authorities is not my problem. Maybe they shouldn't have pulled shit.)Note that this is the deal I gave the capes in Gary and Gallup: if I give anyone this option and they leave, they're automatically on their second warning. If they deliberately pull any of the same shit further down the road, I *will* know, and I *will* be on their asses over it.Note also that if anyone wants to cause problems in Brockton Bay, merely showing up with ill intent is one warning. Actually coming into the city? Your second warning. Whatever happens after that is all on you.(Don't misunderstand me on this: if you violate your second warning, I
will
do something extreme to you. Ultimatums are for people who haven't yet crossed me.)However (and I want to make this clear), anyone who comes into the city in good faith is totally welcome. I'm not about to watch each and every citizen like a hawk to make sure you don't break the law: that's way too tedious, and I've got better things to do with my time. Besides, I just finished putting a whole lot of effort into making sure the police and PRT are up to dealing with that sort of thing.So have fun, live your lives, do your thing. I know I will be.Toodles!(Showing page 1 of 173)
►GreatAndTerribleAisha
(Verified Head of Atropos Fan Club)Replied On Mar 8th 2011:Well, dang.That's my girl Atropos.Preach it, sister!
►J0e_Eagl3ton
(Verified Robotic American) (Dockworkers Association Member) (Verified Atropos Fan Club Member)Replied On Mar 8th 2011:Speaking for self and other Eagl3tons, the probability of pre-Robotic-Americans leaving Eagleton peacefully and not attempting to attack humans was very low. Somewhat higher after the first warning by Atropos, but minimal. As Atropos says, strong prejudice existed, and there would have been attacks against humans, sooner or later. And Eagl3tons would have been destroyed for it.In truth, surrender enabled us to gain our freedom. Am free, doing good work, not under coercion. Free of prejudice, of biased judgement.This way is preferable.
►EmmaTheTwiceWarned
(Verified Follower of Our Lady in Darkness)Replied On Mar 8th 2011:Heed the words of Our Lady in Darkness!I used to think I was strong. I thought strength came in ignoring the wrongs I did to others. That admitting to my errors would show me as being weak.I made a terrible error. That one error nearly killed me, and showed I had no strength within me, only lies. And when judgement comes around, lies abandon you, leaving you with nothing.I am still weak, I know this, yet I am infinitely stronger than those who rely on lies to carry them through.Our Lady in Darkness is strong, for She knows to discard the untruth before it has a chance to become a lie. She tells truth and She admits Her fault, as minor as it may be, and thus She becomes stronger than before.Her cold eye passes over us, and moves on, and we are safe beneath Her gaze.All hail Our Lady in Darkness.
►XxVoid_CowboyxXReplied On Mar 8th 2011:Atropos, you know who I am.As a citizen of Brockton Bay, I'd just like to say, I believe in you.One hundred and ten percent.
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me) (Verified Dethpicable)Replied On Mar 8th 2011:Thanks, I appreciate that. All of you.
►BrenO'LockReplied On Mar 8th 2011:I'm really not sure I see the problem.How is taking out a head of state any different from literally any of the other "bounties" she's taken? Just for example, we have an obviously evil, threatening and transgressive entity in the form of the CUI, and *basically anyone else* (even potentially the U.S. government itself) being a *less* evil entity who might ask her to deal with it in exchange for improvements to her city. And if they think money will override any of her principles, well that's an easy misunderstanding to correct by simply telling them "no".So what's the problem? Given her willingness to accept bounties against people and organizations who are a net-negative for humanity, this just seems like a very bizarre and random line to draw in the sand from a moral or ethical standpoint.
►NatericeReplied On Mar 8th 2011:The two big problems would probably be1) toppling a government. Yes it is an evil government and just about anything else would be better, but it is still a recognized government and knocking one of those over is an escalation that I'm guessing Atropos rightly doesn't want to move to as it would cause a lot of headaches, and unlike a lot of the other idiots, the CUI isn't trying to poke the Atropos bear (as this reliably gets people kneecapped, or worse).2) anyone who pulled this off would use the fact that they got Atropos to knock over a government as a big stick to wave around in politics. Do what we want or maybe Atropos will show up, and that is effectively diluting the Atropos brand which is also a line not crossable for those wanting to retain their kneecap privileges.Remember that unlike the CUI, the quarantine zones and the blasphemies were basically hostis humani generis and as such from a legal point of view, Atropos was simply doing her public duty by taking them off the board, the cash just sped the process up.
►NoimeadReplied On Mar 8th 2011:Bren, I don't think you're getting it.Atropos has specifically stated that she doesn't want to be seen as a killer for hire. She doesn't want any politicians to think that she's a tool they can use to off the competition. She doesn't want to get involved, doesn't want to get used and doesn't want to be bought. Because she's totally right about the way people who buy your services often believe that they bought *you*. That they own you just because they are writing your paycheck.It's easy to say "just tell them no" but when they get pushy, that's when things (to use her phrasing) get tedious.From what I can tell, she simply doesn't want the hassle, she doesn't care about politics and she especially doesn't want to be used as a bludgeon to silence people.If she allows others to hire her in that way, then it'll change the public perception of her. It would change her brand.(Please correct me if I'm wrong in any way, Atropos).
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me) (Verified Dethpicable)Replied On Mar 8th 2011:
No, you're totally right, and so is Naterice.
On top of all that, accepting any kind of bounty that changes the international political landscape is a bell that can't be unrung, which is another reason why I'm absolutely not going there.
Let's put it this way.
Right now, like I said, I've basically got an unspoken agreement with every head of state in the world. They don't mess with me, and I don't go after them. As there's only one government that's likely to have any real impact on the welfare of Brockton Bay, and we know where we stand with each other, this works for me.
But say I accepted a hypothetical bounty tomorrow on the Grand Emperor of the (fictional) nation of Wherethehellarewe, for being an asshole tyrant who kicks puppies and forces his citizens to watch his holiday home videos all year 'round. Per my opening post, I'd give him 24 hours to either abdicate, turn himself over to the international courts for his many (many) human rights abuses, or ... well, die.
But no matter which of those three things ends up happening, every nation in the world with even the slightest history of shady business (ie, every nation) would then be aware that *they could be next*.
Every nation has its haters, and some of those haters have really deep pockets. The bidding war would be *intense*.
That unspoken agreement would be gone in an instant, and my back would have a huge target on it. Not just from people who think I'm coming after them, but from anyone I turn down. See above about people who think having enough money means that nobody ever says no to them.
Cue a bunch of trigger-happy (and butthurt) idiots who think that by unleashing enough WMDs they can collectively take me out before I take *them* out, and that's when I go brakes-off all the way.
That's how you get World War Atropos.
And I seriously don't want to have to go there.
So no, I'm not going to do politics.
Got that? Good.
Toodles!
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Shebang's LaboratoryClockblockerThe rubber ball came out of freeze and fell to the desk, bouncing twice before Shebang caught it. She handed it back to Dennis. "Okay, put it up there again.""Look, I'm sorry," he said, taking the ball. "I've never been able to set the time. Or even know how long something was going to stay frozen. It's totally random.""No, I get that." She hefted the scanner she'd apparently constructed while waiting for Dennis to make it down from Brockton Bay. "I'm getting some good solid readings, but I just need it to stay in one place long enough.""Okay, then. Here we go." He held up the ball at a little below eye level, froze it, and let go. "Maybe it'll go for more than thirty seconds
this
time.""We can only hope." She started running the scanner all over the time-locked rubber toy yet again.Dennis got glimpses of the readouts, but the wavy blue and green lines meant no more to him than the outputs from Kid Win's gear, so that was no surprise. The expression on her face under the goggles she was wearing seemed to indicate satisfaction, so he hoped this wouldn't take
too
much longer. Not that he minded the afternoon off, but simply freezing the same ball in place over and over was getting to be even more boring than console duty.This time, the ball decided to stay frozen for longer than it had before. Shebang went all the way around the desk, gesturing him out of the way, so she could get readings from literally every possible angle. "Yes," she muttered. "Yes. Perfect. Solid waveforms. This is some seriously good shit."The door opened and Legend entered the lab. "Hi. Don't let me interrupt you.""Ah, no, no, it's good." Dennis stepped away from the desk. "I'm just marking time 'til it unfreezes. Shebang's the one who's getting something out of this." He wasn't even sure he was saying anything coherent; to his best recollection, this was the first time he'd ever been face to face with the head of the Protectorate. And he was damn sure they'd never actually had a conversation before."Well, thanks for stepping up." Legend offered him the sort of genuine smile that disarmed hard-bitten reporters and ended up on the front page of magazines. "This is more Shebang's end of things than mine, but if Director Piggot's putting her stamp of approval on it, I'm definitely interested in seeing where it goes."The ball came out of freeze and fell to the desk, accompanied by a
ping
from the scanner and a "Hah!" from Shebang. "Got you!" the Tinker crowed. "The data is in the house!"Legend raised an eyebrow. "That sounded promising."Leaving the ball resting on the desk, Shebang marched across the lab and leaned over the kludgiest conglomeration of electronics Dennis had ever seen, and that included Leet's and Squealer's tech. "Okay, if I'm right …" she muttered, and tried to plug a data card from the scanner into the other device.Of course, it refused to go smoothly into the slot she'd designated for it, and Dennis winced as she bashed it with the heel of her hand. The very last thing he wanted was for the whole exercise to be in vain because the Tinker broke her own gear. But on the second time around, she twisted it slightly and it slid easily into place.Flicking a switch on the contraption—Dennis wasn't sure if it resembled a half-deflated basketball or a thoroughly mangled colander more—Shebang positively cooed over it as LEDs rippled to life, tiny beeps and buzzes making it sound almost alive.Once it had woken up all the way, and no smoke or sparks were coming off it, Shebang picked it up and turned toward the desk. "Okay," she said happily. "Freeze that puppy one more time, then stand back over the line. I'm not one hundred percent on what this will do to living tissue.""Sentences you never want to hear from your teammates," Dennis muttered, but he went over and grabbed the ball one more time. Holding it in the air, he froze it and let it go, then hastily retreated past the circle that had been marked out around the desk with tape, to stand beside Legend."Here we go!" Shebang placed the hemispherical device on the desk, and Dennis shuffled backward a foot or so. His internal countdown was on twenty seconds when she pressed a button, resulting in a rising series of beeps. She backed away as well, making sure her goggles were secure."Is it really going to—" Dennis began, but was cut off when the device let out a not quite deafening
bweeee
sound. Indigo light flashed across the lab.And the ball fell to the desk, five seconds early. Beside it, the hemispherical device began to emit smoke from half a dozen places.Shebang fist-pumped triumphantly. "Fuckin'
eureka."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Wednesday Evening, March 9, 2011Dallon HouseholdAmy sat in front of her computer, wishing she was like normal people and could just pick up the phone to call her girlfriend without second-guessing (and third-guessing, and fourth-guessing) herself. They'd had several very nice conversations, but it was always a struggle for her to initiate the call. Even sending a text felt like she was pushing Sabah to answer immediately. So it was down to this, the least intrusive way she could think of to get a message to her girlfriend, short of sending postcards.<><>
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PRIVATE MESSAGETo: ParianFrom: TheRealPanaceaSubject: Double Date on Friday Evening?Hi. I was wondering if you wanted to go out on a date on Friday evening, if you were interested? I've heard Flechette's getting a weekend pass up from New York, so we could maybe invite her and Spitfire along as well.
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PRIVATE MESSAGETo: TheRealPanaceaFrom: ParianSubject: Re: Double Date on Friday Evening?I'd really like that. I'll talk to Spitfire about it, see what she thinks.
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PRIVATE MESSAGETo: ParianFrom: TheRealPanaceaSubject: Re: Re: Double Date on Friday Evening?Sure thing. If she and Flechette already have plans, I don't want to step all over them.
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PRIVATE MESSAGETo: SpitfireFrom: ParianSubject: What do you think of a double date Friday night?Panacea's suggested a double date; her and me, you and Flechette. I like the idea, but what do you think?
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PRIVATE MESSAGETo: ParianFrom: SpitfireSubject: Re: What do you think of a double date Friday night?Um, okay, wow. I'll ask Flechette, but I can't see any problems with it.Do you think maybe Panacea will give me tips on what superheroes like to do on dates?
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PRIVATE MESSAGETo: SpitfireFrom: ParianSubject: Re: Re: What do you think of a double date Friday night?Excellent.The same as everyone else, I guess?
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PRIVATE MESSAGETo: FlechetteFrom: SpitfireSubject: So, Parian contacted me …… and she's told me that Panacea wants to know if we're okay with going on a double date with her and Parian, on Friday night. You up for it? I mean, it's okay if you're not. We can totally go on a date with just the two of us if you'd prefer that.
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PRIVATE MESSAGETo: SpitfireFrom: FlechetteSubject: Re: So, Parian contacted me …Actually, I think it might be a good idea. I have no idea of the dating options in Brockton Bay, and it'll be a great way to find out the best places to take you for the rest of the weekend.
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PRIVATE MESSAGETo: FlechetteFrom: SpitfireSubject: Re: Re: So, Parian contacted me …Awesome. I'll let them know.
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PRIVATE MESSAGETo: ParianFrom: SpitfireSubject: Re: Re: What do you think of a double date Friday night?Flechette says it's a great idea. See you Friday evening.
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PRIVATE MESSAGETo: TheRealPanaceaFrom: ParianSubject: Re: Re: Re: Double Date on Friday Evening?Spitfire says Flechette's good with it. Let's do this thing.
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PRIVATE MESSAGETo: ParianFrom: TheRealPanaceaSubject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Double Date on Friday Evening?Awesome. Can't wait to see you again.
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PRIVATE MESSAGETo: TheRealPanaceaFrom: ParianSubject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Double Date on Friday Evening?Me too.
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<><>
Amy leaned back in her chair, letting out a long sigh of accumulated tension. It had only taken a few minutes for Sabah's reply to get back to her, but those had been the longest minutes she'd ever had to live through.Then the reality struck her.
I'm going on a double date that I actually want to be on!"Vicky!" she called out, bouncing up from her chair. "She said yes to the date! What should I wear?"
<><>
Thursday Morning, March 10, 2011
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PRIVATE MESSAGETo: DragonFrom: AtroposSubject: Need a favorHi there!So, I'm going to need to briefly borrow someone from the Birdcage, around 2 PM east-coast time. Won't take more than ten minutes, and I'll bring them back in one piece. Mostly.
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PRIVATE MESSAGETo: SpireFrom: AtroposSubject: ScapegoatGood morning.I need you to do me a solid. Can you have Scapegoat pulled out of school early today? I need him in costume and ready to go by ten to eleven your time. I promise to return him in even better shape than I got him, and with a hell of a story to tell.
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PRIVATE MESSAGETo: AtroposFrom: DragonSubject: Re: Need a favor*sigh**kneads non-existent forehead with imaginary knuckles*You are aware that your message simply serves to raise more questions, right?
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PRIVATE MESSAGETo: DragonFrom: AtroposSubject: Re: Re: Need a favorAll you need to do is ask. I'm an open book. The text may be written in a Language Man Was Not Meant To Peruse, the artwork might move around when you're not looking, and there may be suspiciously worrying stains on the pages, but totally open book.
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PRIVATE MESSAGETo: AtroposFrom: SpireSubject: Re: ScapegoatWait, what?Who is this?Is this really Atropos?What do you need Scapegoat for?
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PRIVATE MESSAGETo: AtroposFrom: DragonSubject: Re: Re: Re: Need a favorYes, thank you. I got it.Who?What do you need them for?What do you mean, 'mostly' in one piece?Why are you asking permission, when we both know you could probably go in there and grab whoever it is without me having a say in the matter?
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PRIVATE MESSAGETo: SpireFrom: AtroposSubject: Re: Re: ScapegoatWell, if I'm not her, I'll be in a ton of trouble when she finds out I'm using her name in vain.Go ahead. Ask around.Toodles!
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PRIVATE MESSAGETo: DragonFrom: AtroposSubject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Need a favorTeacher.He will be assisting me (voluntarily or otherwise) in prepping to End a significant problem.If he decides to be a problem, he may end up learning a lesson about kneecaps. Also, I don't promise that he won't end up being more of an ass than he is right now. I do promise not to kill him.Because the actual favor is for you to make sure nobody important finds out that I briefly absconded with him. Some people can be so *picky* about stuff like that.
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PRIVATE MESSAGETo: AtroposFrom: DragonSubject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Need a favorIf I ask what the significant problem is, will I get a straight answer?
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PRIVATE MESSAGETo: LegendFrom: SpireSubject: Help!Someone I'm pretty sure is Atropos just contacted me and asked if she can 'borrow' Scapegoat. What do I do?
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PRIVATE MESSAGETo: DragonFrom: AtroposSubject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Need a favorThe monster at the end of the world.Mwahahaha.
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PRIVATE MESSAGETo: AtroposFrom: DragonSubject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Need a favorAll of a sudden, not so curious.Okay, ten minutes. No more.
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PRIVATE MESSAGETo: SpireFrom: LegendSubject: Re: Help!This has happened before. The outcome has always been positive. I strongly suggest you do as she says.Note that she'll get her way whether we cooperate or not, but this way we stay in her good books.
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PRIVATE MESSAGETo: DragonFrom: AtroposSubject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Need a favorYou're the best.
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PRIVATE MESSAGETo: LegendFrom: SpireSubject: Re: Re: Help!Understood. Will comply.
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<><>
1:40 PM, Brockton BayThe Cape Formerly Known as Damsel of Distress"Cutting!" shouted Ashley. She glanced to the left and right, then sent a two-inch-thick beam of annihilation through the concrete slab and out the other side. Cutting off the beam, she stepped to one side. "Clear!"Genesis' latest creation lumbered into her workspace. Looking rather like a giant spider had had illicit relations with a tortoise, the projection was low-set, with a long crane-like limb that extended twenty feet above it. Dangling from the limb was a tentacle and claw that looked remarkably like a cable and hook. Turning its body, the projection swung the claw over and latched it through the hole she'd burned in the slab, gripping it tightly."All-righty." Ashley bared her teeth in an atavistic grin. She was
damn
powerful, and it was time to show everyone on the Betterment Committee just how much faster she could do the job if she was given free rein to do it
her
way. "Ready?"The projection extended a secondary limb and gave her a thumbs-up. It had taken her most of the lunch hour to talk Jess into helping her out like this, and now she finally had the chance to prove that she knew what she was doing.It wasn't like she was about to go back to being a villain—the praise she was getting from other members of the Betterment Committee, as well as the ongoing therapy, made that less and less likely all the time. Not to mention that doing so in a city even
close
to where Atropos had any interests was a quick way to becoming a grimly amusing cautionary tale.However, the urge to cut loose and prove her superiority was inexorably building within her again. It was time to show the guys how a
real
cape got the job done, with flash and style. She checked again to make sure there was nobody behind her cutting zone—Mr Hebert had impressed the need for that on her, and she respected the
hell
out of him—then glanced around to check where the truck was.There it came, trundling along the road below, with a full load of rubble. Well,
almost
full. There was still room for some on top, in her opinion. (Which in situations like this was the only one that counted)."Cutting!" she shouted again, and manifested her power to slice the overhanging concrete slab off the rest of the building they were currently dismantling. It cut through neatly, and dropped away, then swung sideways as it hit the end of the cable-tentacle, the gripping hook-claw holding tight. Holding her breath, Ashley waited until the slab was at the right point. "Now!"When the claw let go, the slab sailed out in a graceful arc, which terminated in a tremendous crash as it landed on top of the rest of the rubble in the truck."Yes!" As Ashley pumped her fist in triumph, the truck skidded to a halt in a billow of dust, rocking from side to side. She watched, grinning, as the driver got out and looked around in confusion.
Damn, I'm good.That was when she heard the foreman bellow from behind her. "Ash!"
<><>
Danny HebertMany things could've gone wrong with Ashley's little stunt. There were several ways the flying slab of concrete could've damaged the truck much more severely than the minor damage to the suspension that it actually incurred; hitting the cab would've flattened it, killing the driver as well. Falling short would've had it bouncing or skidding into the side of the truck, rolling it and doing considerable damage as well as risking serious injury to the driver. Going over would have risked injury to the workers on the far side of the road.Danny was determined not to let any of that happen, so he made sure the airborne slab landed squarely in the back of the truck, where it could do the least amount of damage. He also knew that the section foreman, Gary by name, was going to yell at Ashley for it, and that she was going to yell right back. Taylor had texted him earlier, explaining that this needed to take place, but also that it would be a good idea for him to intervene before things escalated too far.Skidding the Betterment Committee work vehicle to a halt, he leaped from the vehicle and hustled up the temporary stairs set up to get people to the higher level of rubble. From the looks of it, he was just in time.Danny wasn't quite sure if Gary considered Ashley to be safe to yell at, despite the stylised icons for destruction on the sides of her hard-hat to remind people they were in the presence of a Blaster cape, or was just lost in his anger. Whichever it was, he was stomping up to Ashley, red in the face and getting redder by the second.In this context, 'Ash' wasn't just an abbreviation born of familiarity. Derived both from her name and her ability to utterly destroy the things she blasted, it was her workplace nickname, stencilled on both her hard-hat and high-vis vest. While she'd begun to respond to it in a positive fashion, that had the potential to change. Especially given the way Gary had just yelled it at the top of his lungs for all to hear; and he wasn't done yet."You stupid careless grandstanding little moron!" he bellowed. "What the good goddamn
fuck
do you think you were doing?"Between Taylor's warning and his own power, Danny knew exactly how she would react. Drawing herself up proudly with the light of battle in her eyes, she let fly in Gary's direction; thankfully, with words only. "Showing short-sighted weak-sauce idiots like you how to
really
clear all this shit! If you'd just get out of the way—""Short-sighted?
Weak-sauce?" Danny knew if Ashley had been repentant, Gary might have eased his approach, but her defiance only served to fuel his rage. "Okay, that's
it!
You're
done
on this site, and if I've got anything to do with it, in the Committee—""Okay, I'll take it from here." Danny stepped in between them before the heated words could escalate to a conclusion that Gary might not survive to regret. "Gary, step back
now.
Ashley, take a breath.""Did you
hear
him?" Ashley was still mightily pissed off. "He called me a moron!""Did you
see
what she did?" demanded Gary. "She could've killed—""Gary, step back and
shut up!" snapped Danny. "Yes, I know what she did. Yes, I heard what he said. Gary,
I
decide who gets booted by the Committee, nobody else. Ashley, come with me. We need to talk."He paused just long enough to make sure each of them was going to do as they were told, then turned and headed back toward the steps. Without looking, he knew Gary was staring at his back but fortunately any desire to escalate hostilities with Ashley came second to the knowledge that Danny was not fucking around. He also knew that Ashley was following him, while treating Gary to the finger behind her back.By the time he got down to ground level, she was alongside him, having jumped down two or three steps at a time. Her attitude with him was in stark contrast to the antagonism she'd displayed toward Gary; while she wasn't meek, she was definitely showing respect. "So … am I booted?""No, you're not." He strode over to the Committee vehicle he'd arrived in; the dust cloud he'd kicked up while arriving was only just now dissipating. "Get in. You're off the site for today.""What?" Despite her protest, she was already heading for the passenger side door. "But nobody got hurt.""Ashley." He met her eyes as she climbed into the vehicle, making certain she was listening. "People could absolutely have gotten hurt, but I know exactly why you did that. It's the same reason you became a supervillain in the first place. You've always got the urge to push boundaries, to show everyone around you that you're better than them. Even when you know deep down that you really shouldn't. Yeah?"She blinked. "I … guess I do, yeah. But I
am
usually better than everyone around me. How'd you know that, anyway? You been talking to my therapist?""No." He played his trump card. "Atropos told me. She's going to be meeting you at home."As expected, Atropos' name caused her eyes to widen. "Shit. But you said I wasn't being booted for this. She hasn't even given me a warning.""You're not being booted." Danny started the vehicle. "She just needs you to help her with something, and to help you out at the same time. Because we both know the only time she's not getting two things done at once is when she's doing more.""Oh." He could literally see the relief wash through her body as she collapsed bonelessly into her seat. "So, what she wants me for doesn't have anything to do with what I just did?"He chuckled as he let out the clutch and started off down the road. "I'm pretty sure she doesn't give a damn." It was close enough to the truth for his purposes, and Taylor's.
<><>
AshleyMr Hebert pulled the work vehicle to a halt outside Ashley's apartment building. "I'll see you tomorrow," he said. "Don't be late.""But what about Gary?" she asked. "If he gets in my face again …"
Shit
will
happen.
She knew it would."Gary's not in charge." His tone was unshakeable. "I am. It's not something you're going to have to worry about."He hadn't steered her wrong yet, so she climbed out of the work pickup. "See you tomorrow, I guess."Making sure her boots were clean, she swiped herself in through the front door. The elevator doors opened promptly; as she rode up to her floor, she allowed the familiar surroundings to soothe her. The other tenants knew her face and she theirs, though she didn't really consider them to be her friends. Merely people who lived in the same building: at best, tolerable strangers.Despite the warning that Atropos would be waiting for her, her train of thought came to a screeching halt when she actually saw the dark-clad figure waiting outside her door. Since starting work with the Betterment Committee, her stark fear of Atropos had gradually morphed into
extremely
wary respect. Her shift in fortunes was technically due to Atropos, so whatever she was needed for, it seemed likely that Ending her wasn't on the agenda."Ashley." Atropos straightened up from where she'd been leaning against the door frame. "You're looking good."Ashley came to a stop before her, wondering what was going on. "Atropos. Mr Hebert said you needed my help with something.""That's correct. Can we chat inside?" Atropos gestured to the door of Ashley's apartment.Ashley was relieved to hear that Mr Hebert had it right. Plus, the idea of helping Atropos with something, as opposed to being the subject of one of her projects, had her intrigued."Sure," she allowed, and tapped the reader with her card to unlock the door.Within was the home she'd started building for herself; pictures on the wall and a decorative tablecloth that she'd liked. In pride of place in front of the TV was a comfortable armchair that she'd ordered flat-packed and painstakingly assembled herself. The compressed material she'd taken from the Woad Giant hung across two hooks, as a reminder of how far she'd come.Atropos entered and looked around with the occasional small nod. "Cozy. I like it."Ashley closed the door and dropped her hard-hat on the table, then removed the high-vis vest and hung it on a hook. "You didn't come here to critique my décor. What's up?""That's true. I didn't." Atropos returned her attention to Ashley. "You'll recall how I brought together several capes to deal with your power problems. Well, I'd like to do that again, with you as one of the capes. There's a particular problem that I'm going to need to deal with in time, and you're the most likely to help me succeed. But to make that work, you need your powers boosted, and before I arrange
that
I'm going to have to ask your permission."Ashley waited until she was finished before replying. "A boost to my powers? What sort of boost, and what sort of duration are we talking about?" She recalled how well Atropos had organised the last such venture. Even as she asked the question, she had to wonder exactly what sort of problem Atropos was facing that she needed assistance from Ashley's powers, especially boosted."Mainly range.
Lots
of range." Atropos gestured. "As for duration; we'll have to see. Possibly indefinite.""Are they going to have to take my hands apart again? And what about drawbacks?" Ashley could not deny that she was interested in the 'lots of range' concept, but she was also fully aware of the downsides that could come with such changes."Not this time, no. It'll be a power thing from beginning to end. And yes, there will be
a
drawback." Atropos raised a finger. "However, I will also arrange to have it Ended before it becomes an issue.""Drawback?" Ashley didn't like the sound of that."Not something that'll be an issue." The subtext was unmistakeable.
Not something I'm going to tell you about."Okay, so what kind of a problem do you need help with?" Ashley wished she'd asked this one first."A world ender. One that's almost as good at killing shit as I am, but none of my finesse." Atropos sounded far too blasé about it, but that was her all over. "What do you say?"Ashley considered her response. Apart from their first problematic meeting, her dealings with Atropos had been overwhelmingly positive. Getting control over her powers was a huge uptick to her quality of life, then ending up in the Brockton Bay job had kicked that into high gear.She was gradually teaching herself how to cook using the stove in the kitchen, and exploring the range of microwave meals available from the convenience store in between times. Regular meals and sleep, and being able to bathe daily and put on clean clothing, had made such an astounding difference to her circumstances that she was hardly able to relate to what she recalled of herself, back in Stafford. Her energy levels were up, and she'd actively enjoyed the last few days of work with the Betterment Committee.But right here, right now, Atropos was in her apartment, asking for
assistance.
Every other time Ashley had seen her on the news or in the footage or even in person, she'd exuded an air of being totally in control of the whole situation, with everyone dancing to her tune. Here and now, she wasn't
telling
Ashley what to do. She was
asking.Treating Ashley like an
equal.Never before had someone who had clearly bested Ashley followed up by offering a hand to help her to her feet. Atropos had done that. Now, she was raising Ashley to her own level, simply by asking instead of ordering.Ashley knew she would've obeyed an order, but she would've also resented being directly told what to do. This, right here, right now, was outside her experience. If she said no, she suspected Atropos would simply accept it and walk away. There would be no punishment, no backlash. Atropos didn't operate that way.Once upon a time, Atropos had put a gun to Ashley's head and ordered her to leave Brockton Bay or die. Ashley's rage had been just a little less intense than her terror, so she'd gone. Now, there was no gun, and she felt neither rage nor terror.If she'd said this to me then, I would've told her to fuck off, just to stick it to her.But things had changed. And the idea of getting a power-up was kind of interesting, especially since Atropos was the one arranging it, so she barely hesitated before nodding. "Sure. Let's go save the world.""Excellent. Just so you know, the portal has a four-second duration.""What portal?" Just as Ashley asked the question, the portal in question appeared, taking up what would normally have been the bathroom door. "Oh.
That
portal.""Three." Atropos stepped through, long-coat swirling behind her.There's no way I'm backing out now.
Taking a deep breath, Ashley followed.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
San Diego Wards BaseScapegoat"So, what aren't you telling me? Why did I have to come in early?"William Giles addressed the question to Spire as he chalked his cue, waiting for Gully to take her shot. Of all the Wards who had cycled through San Diego—and there were a
lot—she was someone he felt he could relate to. Her power had twisted her body cruelly, giving her the appearance of a thoughtless brute, while his power tortured him every time he used it. Spire had asked her to be here, though he still hadn't told either of them what was really going on.Carefully holding her braids out of the way, Gully bent over the table and took aim at one of her balls. She had a reasonably good chance of sinking it, which would put her two ahead of him. But at least it was a fair contest; he'd once played Flechette when she was briefly posted to San Diego, and she'd wiped the table with him so hard that Spire had joked there was blood on the walls afterward. It was his stupid fault, really. She'd
told
him that perfect timing and calculating angles were her secondary powers."Sorry, I'm going to have to hold off on telling you that." Spire seemed ill at ease. "We're waiting for someone, that's all I can say."Gully took her shot. The
click
of the cue ball striking the number six was nice and crisp, and the ball went straight into the corner pocket while the white ball spun in place. She let out a satisfied
hmph
and straightened up to move around the table—then froze, cue held in a defensive posture."Oh, hey," said a voice from right behind William, startling the
fuck
out of him. He'd been standing with his back to the corner of the room, and
there had been nobody behind him!Turning as fast as he was able, holding up his cue to try to deflect any incoming attacks, William registered the two intruders and backed up fast. They were making no aggressive moves, but that didn't mean anything. One had pure white hair and was wearing a set of blue coveralls with BBBC embroidered on one side and ASHLEY STILLONS on the other, while the other … was Atropos.He had no idea who Ashley Stillons was, but he would've had no excuse for not recognising Atropos. She was so famous after her slaying of the Simurgh that he would've bet good money on a majority of the Earth's population being familiar with her appearance. This went double for the PRT, Protectorate and the Wards, especially after her highly publicised 'very enthusiastic walks' (as one PHO commenter had put it) through the Ellisburg, Eagleton and Flint quarantine zones.They were
still
trying to figure out how she'd shown up in two places at once, to intimidate the Gary and Gallup zones into just plain surrendering."Chillax," Atropos continued, as though she hadn't just appeared out of thin air in the middle of a secure government location. "We're all friends here. Gully, nice to meet you. Big fan of your work. Scapegoat, need to borrow you for about fifteen minutes. You game?"Gully blinked, clearly not prepared to be recognised and greeted in that way. "Wait, what do you want him for?"Atropos nodded, as though to concede her right to answers. "Prepping to save the world. I'll bring him back in one piece, I promise."William finally found his voice. "Save the world? From what? You
killed
the Endbringers!""Oh, they weren't the only threat." Her voice was now deadly serious. "Sooner or later, I'm going to have to face off the eldritch horrors from beyond time and space that
spawned
them … and I wish I was kidding.""You only told
me
it was a world ender," protested the woman named Ashley Stillons. "You never mentioned the other stuff.""That can't be right." Gully didn't sound happy at all. "They would've told us if there were other threats out there. I haven't heard anything about any attacks.""What part of 'from beyond time and space' are we not actually comprehending here?" Atropos' tone was light-hearted, but William got the distinct impression she wasn't joking. "They haven't made up their mind to attack yet, but when they do—when, not if—there'll be devastation on a scale that'll make Behemoth's worst efforts look like a kid kicking over a sandcastle on the beach. So, I'm borrowing Scapegoat so Ashley and I can get prepared to End their sorry existence first.""You said he wouldn't come to harm." Spire moved around the table toward William. "Fighting Lovecraftian horrors sounds dangerous to me."Ashley made a noise of impatience, but Atropos calmed her with a gesture. "This is prep, not combat. He won't be going near them. That comes later."William was grateful to Spire for the chance to gather his thoughts. The other thing they'd been told about Atropos, apart from 'never ever attack her' was 'go along with what she says, within reason'. Several Wards had apparently accompanied her on a few of these excursions, Flechette having done so on more than one occasion, and all had come back hale and hearty. The resultant after-action reports were required reading for PRT, Protectorate and Wards alike."It's okay," he said, holding up his hand placatingly. "Not sure how much help I can be, but I'll do my best." His favourite complaint, about how much his power sucked, he was not going to air in front of Atropos
or
Ms Stillons. While he didn't think Atropos would care either way, the other woman's lip had a curl that gave him the impression of someone who would totally call him a whiny little bitch, given the opportunity."That's the spirit." Atropos gave him an approving nod, then gestured at the corner of the room. "In thirty seconds, a portal's going to form right there. We'll have four seconds to go through. I'll go first, Ashley second, you third. Anything halfway through when it closes
will
be cut off. Any questions?""Um …" He was sure he should be asking pertinent, meaningful questions, but his brain failed him. "… where are we going?""A currently undisclosed location." He was certain she was grinning behind the mask. "Next question?""… what do you need me to do when we get there?" It was the only other thing he could think of."I'll be giving you detailed instructions. Long story short, damage control. And no, it won't suck nearly as much as you think it will. Three, two, one,
go."As she spoke the last word, a shadowy portal faded into view, right where she'd said it would. She was already moving, vanishing through the portal in three quick strides. The woman called Ashley Stillons gave him a look along the lines of, 'well, come on, dumbass' before following her through.He didn't see that he had much choice in the matter. Taking a deep breath, he stepped through into the unknown.
<><>
AtroposWe emerged at night, onto a concrete-paved walkway with trees arching overhead, alongside a dull, dingy river. A bridge consisting of multiple low arches spanned the river just to our right, but that wasn't what drew Scapegoat's attention. Ashley was also looking around with earnest attention, though she managed to make it not so obvious as he did.Pointing across the river, Scapegoat gasped out the words. "Is that … is that
Big Ben?""The clock tower it's attached to, yeah." I gestured at the bridge, and the large building alongside the clock tower, all lit up like Christmas. "Westminster Bridge. The Houses of Parliament. Welcome to London."As if it had been waiting for my words, a gentle drizzle began to fall, creating halos of light around the spectacle before us. It was quite pretty, and I decided to get photos before we went. Under the trees where we were, none of the rain actually reached us."Huh," Ashley commented with a wry smile on her face, apparently enjoying Scapegoat's evident bogglement. "And me without my passport. Why'd you bring us here?""Reasons." I grinned under the mask. "Feel free to take photos. We've got a minute or so before our next player will be in position for joining us. Also, Ashley, if you could do me a favour and keep an eye out for us while I fill Scapegoat in on what's expected of him, I'd appreciate it."She gave me a calculating look, then nodded. "Sure, I can do that." Pulling her phone out of the pocket of the coveralls, she opened the camera app and took a photo of the scene across the river. Then she wandered along the walkway a short distance, looking around carefully."Okay." I turned to Scapegoat. Despite the goat's-head mask, I could tell that he was still struggling to come to terms with our abrupt shift in location. "You're about to get a power boost. When I call on you, you will have a mental compulsion overlaying your own thoughts. So will Ashley. I'll be needing you to transfer both compulsions back to the person who gave them to you, as well as Ashley's underlying bipolar disorder.""Bipolar?" His eyes widened behind his mask. "That's not a good mix with me. I get everything—""You won't," I interrupted. "Chill. I have it all under control. Medication and therapy have been helping her control her issues so far, but they've been fighting back and the mental compulsion is not something I want her dealing with for long. So put it all back in the other guy, yours included. Got it?"My power had assisted in hitting just the right tone, and he nodded. "Okay, got it. So, this boost will make it so I don't have to take stuff on myself?"I nodded. "That's the idea. With any kind of luck, I can make it stick. No guarantees, though.""Better than nothing, I guess." He nodded toward Ashley as she prowled back along the pathway in our direction, and lowered his tone. "So, uh … what's
her
story?"Conversely, I raised my voice. "Ashley's doing good work with the Brockton Bay Betterment Committee. Beyond that, her story is hers to tell. Isn't that right, Ashley?""Damn right," she agreed, then gave Scapegoat the stink-eye. "Don't go prying into things you can't handle, kid.""Be nice," I said mildly. "We're all on the same side here. Unlike the last guy we need for our little get-together. He's a total bastard, and he only has one side: his.""Not unlike you and me?" Ashley seemed to be gaining a little bit of gumption, if she felt safe in making jokes like that."Totally unlike you and me." I didn't make my voice harsh, just matter-of-fact. "He takes away the volition of people and honestly thinks they should be happier that way, under his thumb.""Got it." Ashley nodded. "Fuck him, then." Her hands curled into claws, and dark energy crackled between her fingers."Precisely." I paused for a beat. "However, we are
not
going to kill him. I've got something much worse in mind."Ashley smirked, allowing the energy to dissipate. "Okay, yeah, this I want to see.""And you will." I put my hands forward, palms facing each other, then moved them apart to open a space in front of me. "In three … two …
one."As I said the last word, I reached forward into the portal that had just appeared. Instead of going through the portal myself, I grabbed Teacher's collar (for the portal had appeared just behind him) and pulled just hard enough to make him stumble backward toward me. Once his feet were clear, I kicked him in the back of the knee and forced him to topple backward, so his flailing arms weren't intersecting with the portal when it closed again. At the same time, I managed his fall to the concrete so he didn't hit his head."Hi, Teacher." I said pleasantly. "Got a thing I want you to do."
<><>
TeacherBenjamin Terrell prided himself as a man who was always on top of the situation. Whenever his fortunes changed, he could plan a way out of it, more quickly and more thoroughly than whoever had him could work out how to use him to their advantage. It had saved his life more than once.He had paused just inside his cell, his back to the wall (the oldest precautions were often the best) to work out an elegant way of persuading his fellow block leaders to allow him a few more minions. The best strategy, he felt, would be to suggest a direct exchange as an equitable bargain, but only with those block leaders who were unaware that his influence over his 'students' persisted indefinitely. For the ones who did know, he would have to offer favours so they didn't 'accidentally' let slip his oversight in not mentioning it to the others.And then a hand seized him by the collar and pulled him backward, straight through the wall. He briefly saw a shadowy doorway in front of him before he was struck behind the knee and dropped medium-roughly onto concrete pavers. His glasses had come askew, so he took a moment to reposition them and take in the three figures who were looking down at him.The boy in the sheep mask, he didn't know off the top of his head, though he suspected he would figure it out. On the other hand, the white-haired young woman in the blue coveralls was definitely someone he'd heard of.Damsel of Distress was precisely the type of parahuman he sought out to give his gifts to; he'd had her details stored away just in case they ever crossed paths. From the way she looked coldly down at him, though, he suspected that she'd already been fed a biased view of his past exploits. The surety in her stance and the fact that she appeared to be close to a healthy weight told him that her power problems had already been partially or wholly addressed, so he would need to find a different avenue of approach.And of course, Atropos was
Atropos. Some in the Birdcage were unsure as to whether anyone could have killed so many villains and menaces in such a short time, but there it was. The Slaughterhouse Nine, gone. Butcher and the Teeth, wiped out. Bastard Son, stabbed to death with a bastard sword. And the
Simurgh, blown away with a sawn-off shotgun.
What she could do under my guidance …"Uh, uh." He'd only seen the barest flicker of movement, but then he was staring cross-eyed at the muzzle of a twelve-gauge shotgun, the cold metal pressing into his forehead. "This is your first warning. Don't even
think
about using your power on me."Behind her, Damsel of Distress did a discreet fist-pump. "Yesss!" she muttered with an evil grin. "Sucks to get a face full of shotgun, doesn't it?""I promise." Benjamin looked up at Atropos. "May I ask what you've brought me here for? And where
is
'here'?" At that moment, four metallic notes pealed outward; the quarter-hour chimes of Big Ben. He would've recognised them anywhere. His eyes opened wide. "London? We're in
London?""We are." She put the shotgun away again. "Get up. You're here to make Scapegoat's powers less problematic to use, and to extend Ashley's range as far as it'll go. After that, you can go where you want.""What?" He grunted painfully as he climbed to his feet; at his age and weight, that was no longer as easy as it had been in his twenties. "Just like that?"As he'd thought, he was indeed in London, on a river-walk next to the Thames. Just nearby was Westminster Bridge, and opposite them were the Houses of Parliament, complete with the Clock Tower housing the great bell. Once upon a time, this had been his home territory; if he played his cards right, it might yet become that again."Wait," protested Scapegoat, making a T-gesture with his hands. "Time out. We're letting a Birdcage inmate go
free?" He glanced at Damsel of Distress for support, but she merely surveyed Benjamin with a slight smile, one he couldn't read."I've already told you the stakes." Atropos was even harder to decipher. She had all the tells of an iceberg drifting into the path of an unsuspecting ocean liner, and none of the warmth. "None of us here are going to force him back into the Birdcage if he doesn't want to go. If he goes back, it'll be of his own free will."Benjamin thought he had her measure, however. "As I understand matters, you are also able to kill powers. Will mine be likewise removed before you set me free?""Nope." She snorted lightly. "I'd expect that of you, but I don't do the monkey's paw thing. Wherever you go, you get to keep your powers. However." She produced the shotgun again, with the same heart-stopping suddenness. "If you try to fuck us around in any way, my good friend Mr Pump Action Shotgun here
will
be forced to explain how Kneecaps Are A Privilege. Any questions as to how that works?""None whatsoever, dear lady. You make your case with admirable clarity." Free or otherwise, Benjamin had zero desire to have his kneecaps blown out. Even the best Tinker-tech prosthetics would be less preferable than his original-issue joints. More to the point, he was absolutely certain that the experience would be more painful than anything he'd ever experienced before."Good." She made the shotgun vanish again, and waved Damsel of Distress to stand next to Scapegoat. "Do Scapegoat first, then Ashley.""As you wish." Benjamin reached out and touched the goat-masked (not
sheep-masked) boy on the shoulder, and exerted his power.
<><>
Meanwhile, in the Shard Bar…Robed and cowled, the skeleton with the ornate scythe leans against the counter with an untouched drink at its bony elbow. Eye-sockets empty of all but a lightyears-distant blue glow, it watches as the Royal Tutor shard rearranges the Transfer shard's priorities. By the time the procedure is almost complete, the Transfer shard stands taller, energies flowing through it more readily."Just one more thing," says the Royal Tutor shard, winding up an antique alarm clock. "I have to attach this timer, so that …"Ending speaks for the first time.
NO TIMER."What?" The Royal Tutor shakes its approximation of a head. "But there needs to be a timer. Otherwise, the power boost will never run out."YOU DON'T GIVE THEM ALL TIMERS. I'VE WATCHED YOU."Well, no, but sometimes it's better not to—"A bony hand grabs it by the back of the neck, and its face-equivalent meets the counter-top with considerable force. In the process, the alarm clock is shattered.
NO. TIMER.Groggily, the Royal Tutor stands up again, the analogy of blood running down its face. "Understood. No timer."GOOD. NOW THE OTHER ONE.The Royal Tutor hesitates. "No timer for that one either?"The perpetual smile on the face of the skull widens slightly.
I'M
SO
GLAD WE UNDERSTAND EACH OTHER.The Royal Tutor sighs and turns to the Demesnes-Keeper shard; a person whose body seems to be constantly destroying then reforming itself, forever changing from instant to instant. "You might feel a little discomfort …"
<><>
ScapegoatWilliam blinked, then looked at his hands. He felt different, more in control of his power. It had only been a few seconds, but Teacher's power had done its job.Beside him, Teacher was just lifting his hand away from Ashley's shoulder. Behind Teacher, Atropos gave him the nod. He grabbed Ashley by the arm and Teacher by the shoulder, then exerted his power. Lifting and separating the mental overlay Teacher had inflicted on him was child's play now, and he returned it to sender. He also threw in a few other lingering mental issues and a hangnail that had been bothering him, because why not.Ashley was just turning her head to snarl at him for grabbing her when he took her issues and just
dumped
them into Teacher's psyche as well. Atropos hadn't been kidding; she'd had mental problems for
days.
A lot of it had been tamped down under carefully learned habits, but the newly gained obsession regarding Teacher had been ripping up the carpet with gleeful abandon.That was the other thing Atropos hadn't been exaggerating about. Normally, to transfer something like that, he would've had to take it onto himself then pass it onward. But now it was a simple one-and-done. He could even tell (somehow) that the normal case of waiting around for hours to make sure the transfer would stick was no longer necessary.Holy shit. This is amazing.Teacher didn't seem to agree with him. With a hoarse cry of what seemed to be a mixture of anger and fear, he lunged away from both William and Ashley, and dashed past Atropos in a bid for freedom. Atropos didn't seem to care; in fact, she stepped aside as he bolted past."He's getting away!" William felt frustration rising in his chest. Despite what Atropos had said, despite the fact that his powers had been improved, he still deeply believed that nobody like Teacher should ever be allowed loose on the population."So you'd think." Atropos didn't move. Teacher ran on, toward Westminster Bridge and the steps that would allow him to escape their grasp and lose himself in the maze that was the London underworld."He isn't, is he?" Ashley sounded amused now.Atropos snapped her fingers. "Four."Bypassing the steps, Teacher ran on."Three."Ahead of him was an archway that led under the steps."Two."Beginning to flag now, he neared the archway. He glanced back once, then ran on."One."He barely slowed as he rounded the corner and vanished under the archway. William heard a despairing wail, which was cut off halfway through."What happened?" asked Ashley, peering in that direction. "I can't hear him anymore. Did he stop?""In a manner of speaking." Though Atropos' face was hidden, William could
hear
the smirk in her voice.
<><>
TeacherI can do this. I can get away. I can be greater than ever before. They'll never catch me again!Benjamin wasn't an athletic person, and he panted as he ran, but he forced himself onward all the same. Atropos had pledged to allow him to go free, but Scapegoat might decide he was duty-bound to capture Benjamin all the same, and turn him back over to the authorities. It was a mistake, he decided, to have given Scapegoat the ability to remove Benjamin's own control over him, but Atropos hadn't given him much of a choice.Ahead was a set of stairs leading up onto Westminster Bridge, but that wasn't where he was going. There was an archway under the stairs that led to an undercover parking lot where he could steal a car. All he had to do was get a few minutes' lead and they'd never find him.Well, the last laugh will be on her. I'll build plans atop plans, and they will all centre around her, closing in until she has nowhere to turn, nobody to turn to, and then she will be captured. With her under my sway, my enemies will fall before me. I will rebuild the world as a monument to my greatness—He reached the archway and swung around it, into the comforting gloom within. Too late, he recognised that the shadows ahead were not natural. Even as he tried to stop with a shouted "Noooo!", it was too late. He plunged through, hit a concrete wall, and slumped to the ground. The portal, behind him, winked out of existence.Sitting up, he looked around to see the familiar surroundings of his cell. He was back in the Birdcage, right where he'd started. And now he had a hangnail, on top of everything else.She wasn't chasing me. If I'd just walked away, I could've avoided this.Clenching his eyes and fists closed, he let out a bellow of pure frustration."FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!"
<><>
AtroposWe stood looking at the dry concrete under the archway. Teacher had left exactly one footprint, wet from the drizzling rain, but no more than that. He'd entered the archway, and he hadn't exited."So, you sent him back to the Birdcage?" Scapegoat seemed anxious to verify this."No." I shook my head. "He sent himself back. I just supplied the portal. You saw me. I didn't shove him or force him. He stepped through of his own accord.""Even though he didn't know it was there." Ashley seemed somewhat amused at this. She was smiling more readily, anyway.I shrugged. "He should've been looking where he was going. So, who wants tourist photos before we go home?"Scapegoat pulled his phone out. "Me!"
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
San Diego Wards Base
Gully
The portal reopened fourteen minutes and fifty-five seconds after Scapegoat had vanished into it. Gully knew this, because she'd been watching the clock. By mutual unspoken agreement, she and Spire were avoiding the corner where it had been, while speculating about where Atropos and Ashley Stillons had taken him to.
Spire had looked up the name on the PRT database, and to their mutual surprise had gotten a hit; the file photos of Damsel of Distress showed someone who was skinnier and somewhat more unkempt, but the white hair was unmistakeable. Skimming Atropos' PHO entries had brought up Damsel's attempted entry to Brockton Bay and rebuff by Atropos, which only raised more questions. After that, they'd tried to play a little pool, but their inability to concentrate made it a ridiculous parody of the game; half the time, Gully missed the cue ball altogether. Nobody came even close to sinking a ball.
When the portal opened, Gully and Spire abandoned the game and paid full attention to the shadowy doorway. First through was Atropos, followed closely by Damsel of Distress. Scapegoat came last, stumbling as though he wasn't quite sure where he was.
"Hi there!" announced Atropos brightly. "One Scapegoat, in perfect working order, returned as promised. Ashley and I are going to hang around for a few minutes until you're sure he's okay, then we'll be moving along." She glanced at Ashley then gestured toward the table. "How about a game while we're waiting?"
"Sure." Ashley raised an eyebrow as she looked at the table. "I've never played, though. You're gonna have to show me how it goes."
"Well, the idea is to use the white ball to sink all the coloured balls," Atropos explained succinctly, then looked at Spire. "Borrow your cue? Thanks." She accepted it as he handed it to her.
"Triangle's over there." Gully pointed helpfully to where it was hanging on the wall.
"Appreciate it, but we won't be needing one." Leaning over the table, Atropos briefly lined up on three different balls in quick succession, sending each of them bouncing off their fellows in a staccato series of crisp clicks.
With what she'd already seen of Atropos' exploits, Gully fully expected every ball to be sunk within seconds, but that wasn't what happened. Instead, like Brownian motion run in reverse, the coloured balls coalesced into a triangular formation at one end of the table, bunching around the eight-ball. At the far end, the cue-ball rolled sedately to a halt precisely on the spot at the centre of the break line.
Gully stared; the balls couldn't have been better placed with the use of the triangle and a micrometer. She'd thought she was aware of Atropos' level of pure bullshit, but this just set the bar even higher. From the way Spire's jaw dropped, he was of much the same mind.
"Okay, that was impressive, but what now?" asked Ashley.
"Now I show you how to play. Gully, loan her your cue? Thanks." Atropos strolled around to the end of the table where the cue-ball awaited. "Now, unlike what I just did, you're only supposed to hit the cue-ball with your cue …"
Spire dragged his attention away from the table and approached Scapegoat. "Are you okay?" he asked.
"Yeah." Scapegoat nodded, a little jerkily. "Better than okay. I'm fantastic. I'm
amazing."
Gully frowned. This was more upbeat than she'd seen him … basically, ever. "Where did you go? What did you do?"
For an answer, Scapegoat held out his phone. On the screen was a photo of … "Wait a minute," Spire said. "You went to
England?
To
London?"
Gully leaned in to look at the image. Despite the misty rain that gave the lights little rainbow haloes, it was impossible to mistake the photo, and the ones that followed, for anything but what they were. "Damn. What did you even
do
there?"
Scapegoat drew a deep breath. "Did you know it's possible to pull someone out of the Birdcage? Because I saw Atropos pull someone out of the Birdcage."
"You are
going
to have to give us more detail than that," Spire insisted. "Who got pulled out? How did she do it? What happened?"
Bit by bit, the story unfolded, as Atropos coached Damsel of Distress in how to play pool behind them. By the end of it, Gully was considerably more informed regarding the events that had taken place over the last fifteen minutes, but was still very much in the dark concerning the
how
and the
why
of it all. A tiny
yip
of triumph heralded Damsel's first success in sinking a ball, but neither Gully nor Spire bothered to look around.
"So, did she say anything else about why she's doing all this?" asked Spire, once Scapegoat had run dry. "Why she needed your power and Damsel's power to be improved?"
Scapegoat hesitated. "I think she wanted Ms Stillons to be on top of her game, mentally and power-wise. I'm just a fortunate side-effect in the grand scheme of things, and Teacher's a casualty. All that crap out of Ms Stillons' head and mine had to go somewhere, and who better than the guy who's screwed with so many other people's lives?" He shrugged. "I know it's not exactly heroic, but who says no to Atropos?"
"And Teacher fixed it so you don't have to take things on yourself anymore?" Gully found this to be particularly interesting. Scapegoat's power seemed to be designed to mess with the kid, but the worst aspects of it had just been … taken away. "You just … pass it along?"
"Easy as handing someone a pencil," Scapegoat confirmed. "Doesn't even touch me. It's like this is the way my power was supposed to be, but it got screwed up on delivery, y'know?"
Gully rolled her eyes. "Trust me, I hear you on that."
<><>
■
PRIVATE MESSAGE
To: Atropos
From: Dragon
Subject: Teacher is now psychotic
What the hell did you do to him? Up until now, I've had to expend twice as many resources than I have to on anyone else just to keep an eye on what he was up to, but now he's done a total one-eighty. Literal supervillain rants that expose all his plans, and he's already been beaten up twice in the last hour for trying to force his 'teachings' on capes who weren't interested. His life expectancy is dropping by the minute.
■
PRIVATE MESSAGE
To: Dragon
From: Atropos
Subject: Re: Teacher is now psychotic
We are talking about the same Teacher, yeah? The one who's a total waste of oxygen and food by any reasonable metric?
I'm just wondering why you're so concerned with his welfare.
■
PRIVATE MESSAGE
To: Atropos
From: Dragon
Subject: Re: Re: Teacher is now psychotic
You said you wouldn't hurt him if he cooperated.
■
PRIVATE MESSAGE
To: Dragon
From: Atropos
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Teacher is now psychotic
I said I wouldn't kill him, and I didn't. He didn't pull anything stupid, so I didn't need to teach him about kneecap privileges. As for the rest of it, I made no other promises.
He's already got one warning and if he ever sets foot outside the Birdcage, I'll be dropping a second one on him, just on general principles. Long story short, my care factor about his physical *or* mental well-being is going further into the negatives by the second.
■
PRIVATE MESSAGE
To: Atropos
From: Dragon
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Teacher is now psychotic
Okay, so he was always going to be screwed up mentally by this. Got it.*sigh*Just out of morbid curiosity, could you please tell me what you did to him?Please tell me you didn't just straight-up End his sanity?… can you actually do that?
■
PRIVATE MESSAGE
To: Dragon
From: Atropos
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Teacher is now psychotic
… kinda. I got him to give them a power upgrade. As part of it, he hit them with a mental effect, essentially making them addicted to his power (you know, like Saint was). So, I told Scapegoat to give it straight back, along with all their various issues (Ashley had more than a few). Short-term result: Scapegoat and Ashley now have improved powersets, and are as mentally healthy as it's possible to be, while Teacher's still an asshole villain, only more so (besides, he started it). Long-term result: one step closer to saving the world.
■
PRIVATE MESSAGE
To: Atropos
From: Dragon
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Teacher is now psychotic
Okay, thank you for the clarification. I still can't help feeling that there's something supremely unethical about all this.
■
PRIVATE MESSAGE
To: Dragon
From: Atropos
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Teacher is now psychotic
Pretty sure I left ethics behind when I took up shooting supervillains in the face. These days, I'm extremely results-oriented. And I'm totally fine with these results.
■
PRIVATE MESSAGE
To: Atropos
From: Dragon
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Teacher is now psychotic
There's absolutely nothing in that statement that I can point to as being incorrect.PS: *wow*. You couldn't have fucked him up harder if you tried. He just got beaten up again.Even knowing what he's done, and despising everything that he stands for, I still can't help feeling just a little sorry for him.Actually, one question. When he uses his power on someone, is the mental influence an automatic thing, or can he choose not to apply it?
■
PRIVATE MESSAGE
To: Dragon
From: Atropos
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Teacher is now psychotic
He can choose the level. He always chooses 'totally indebted to me'.
He's screwed with many heads and ruined many lives.
I wouldn't have done this to him just for karma, but I've got no problem with inflicting it as a side effect.
Plus, he was plotting against me, so fuck him.
Toodles!
■
<><>
Damsel
Ashley stepped out of the portal into the familiar surroundings of her apartment. Oddly enough, it still felt different to when she'd left, even though everything was still where it had been less than half an hour ago. The difference, she realised without much in the way of difficulty, was all in her own head.
"What did Scapegoat
do?" she asked, walking over to the window and looking out. The city looked fresh and clean and hopeful, full of promise and optimism. For the first time, she felt as though she
belonged,
rather than needing to make an effort just to fit in. "I feel like I've been walking on air since we got back from England. That game of pool helped me get used to it, but right now I feel really weird and I don't know why."
Atropos moved up to stand beside her. She wasn't being threatening or pushy or aggressive, she was just …
there.
And Ashley found that she was fine with that. There was no longer a sense of impending doom if she put even one foot wrong. "Weird good or weird bad?"
"Um." Ashley had to stop and think about that. Her entire
life
was weird these days, so categorising new experiences wasn't as easy as it had once been. Once upon a time, it had been mainly divided between 'sucky' and 'less sucky' but now she had a whole new category called 'holy shit is this my life now' which was getting bigger all the time. "Good, I think? I
feel
like I should be going over it with a fine-tooth comb to find the catch, but at the same time I'm pretty sure there is no catch. I mean, there's a lot of stuff that I used to dwell on a
ton,
that's just … not there anymore. Or it's there, but it's not as important to me as it used to be. Does that even make sense?"
"It does." Atropos turned to look at her. "Cards on the table. All that stuff you've been going to therapy over, and getting medication for, it's been starting to show through again. Like with the stunt you pulled with Genesis. Arrogance, aggression, the driving need to prove you're better than everyone else no matter what, that sort of thing. Basically, the monkey in your head that kept bashing the rage button every time things didn't go the way you wanted, back before we got to know each other. With me so far?"
Ashley did her best to raise an eyebrow. "I wouldn't go as far as calling it a 'monkey bashing a rage button', but …" She paused, recalling a couple of incidents where things had gotten
way
out of hand. "Okay, yeah, maybe I would. Of course, once you got my hands fixed, things were
less
likely to go wrong, and I knew you'd come down on me if I acted out anyway, so that kept me under control. But now, I feel like even that's not necessary. There's no part of me that I've got to keep an eye on. What did you do?" An epiphany burst on her. "Holy shit! It's part of what Scapegoat did, isn't it?"
"It is." Atropos nodded once. "Basically, he found the potential version of you somewhere in the hypothetical multiverse who had no mental problems, made a template of that, and swapped it out for everything that was going on with you."
"Everything? Like, everything that ever made me hurt anyone?" Ashley found her armchair and dropped into it, mainly because her legs didn't feel like holding her up any longer. "All that's just …
gone? What did he do with it? Is the poor bitch that he got the good template from now as fucked up as I was?"
"Well, no. She doesn't actually exist. Like I said, she's a potential version. It's a powers thing. No, he passed it all on to Teacher." Atropos actually sounded amused at that.
"Who's now back in the Birdcage
and
is as fucked in the head as I used to be." Ashley shook her head in disbelief. "Wow, I know he's a colossal dick and all, but that's seriously harsh."
"Well, it had to go
somewhere," Atropos pointed out reasonably. "The whole point of this exercise was to get it out of your head. Scapegoat can't just discard it. It would be supremely unfair to load him down with every single dysfunction he takes away from people. You absolutely don't want
me
to have it."
Ashley startled herself with a laugh. "No, fuck that idea with a rusty shovel. Bad idea all around." Then she nodded thoughtfully. "Okay, yeah. Teacher was the only other option, and he
has
kind of earned it. But are you going to keep an eye on him?"
Confirming her suspicion that Atropos already knew the answer to the question, the black-clad killer chuckled. "Dragon's been blowing up my phone about that. Apparently, he's gone full ham megalomaniac. He's literally doing supervillain monologues about his plans, and he's already been beaten up three times. Couldn't happen to a nicer asshole."
"So, he's going to die in there." Ashley could easily recall how she'd been pushed by her issues to either do something villainous or rant about how she was going to do something. "You knew that when you started this whole thing. You basically sentenced him to death."
"No." Atropos' tone was less playful now. "He earned his death sentence a long time ago. Up until now he's been skating on the consequences of his actions, because his capabilities are useful in the Birdcage. I just made him more annoying than he is useful. But in all honesty, I don't
care
about what happens to him, just that he never gets in my way. I needed certain things to get done, and they got done. Over and above that? Zero fucks given."
"So, what am I?" Ashley wasn't quite sure where this was coming from. She was damn sure she normally wouldn't have challenged Atropos like this, no matter what reason she had for doing it. "Your wind-up toy? Your chess piece? You needed me to be sane and powerful, to do what you need me to do?"
"No, Ending just needs you powerful." Atropos must have caught the flicker of confusion on Ashley's face. "That's what my power's called. I talk to him occasionally, and we hash out how we're going to do stuff. He's literally all about Ending anything and everything. Now, I don't really care about the sanctity of human life as an abstract concept, but there are some people I do care about, and I will End anyone who makes a move to hurt them. Outside of those people, yeah, there are some who are potentially useful to us. I figure it's easier to arrange a better quality of life for you guys so that when the time comes to call on you, you're more likely to say yes without needing any coercion. It took a while to explain the concept of 'willing cooperation' to Ending, just saying."
Ashley stared at her. This was the most Atropos had explained to her about what was going on behind the scenes …
ever.
It also explained so very much. "'Ending'? That's what your power's called? What about mine? Does it have a name?"
"Yeah. 'Demesnes-Keeper'." Atropos shrugged. "Don't look at me, I didn't name 'em. Those aren't really the names anyway. They're basically a whole encyclopaedia's worth of nuance and meaning, condensed down to a single word or phrase. Anyway, you're getting more out of this than a cool job, a nice place to live, and a chill outlook on life. When was the last time you were actually concerned about someone else's well-being, like you were with Teacher?"
"… huh." Ashley blinked. "I didn't even realise. When did
that
happen?"
"When Scapegoat took all that crap out of your head." Atropos tapped the side of her own head. "He gave you free rein to experience empathy again. Which you're gonna need tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" Ashley frowned. "Why am I going to need it tomorrow?"
<><>
The Next Day
Danny
All was quiet on the worksite; the assembled ranks of the people working for the Betterment Committee were silently watching two people. Rumours had spread thick and fast about the confrontation between Ash and Gary the day before, from the believable (Gary had fired Ash) to the also-believable (Ash had threatened his life).
Danny hoped that this public spectacle would quell all the rumours. There were times to keep such things behind closed doors, and times to blow the doors clean off. Taylor had told him that this was one of the latter.
Standing beside the work vehicle, in which Danny had fetched her from her apartment building, Ms Stillons glanced at Danny. He gave her a brief nod of encouragement. Turning, she approached Gary where he stood before the assembled workers.
He watched her approach; Danny could see the stiffness in his back and the muscle pulsing in his jaw. Oddly enough, this was missing in Ms Stillons. Yesterday, she'd been dead set against accepting any level of culpability for what had nearly happened. Today … was yet to be seen.
She stopped a couple of yards from Gary, then paused for a moment before opening her mouth. Danny couldn't blame her for thinking her words over; what she said next would go a long way toward deciding the eventual outcome.
Finally, she spoke. "I'm sorry."
Danny blinked; either she'd picked up some
serious
acting chops overnight, or she was being totally sincere. He wasn't quite sure which of the two explanations was more believable.
While she was a reasonably intelligent young woman, it took more than brains to put heart and soul into a role like that. Moreover, the Ashley Stillons he'd seen on the job site even yesterday would've chosen to carve her own spleen out with a rusty spork before deliberately admitting fault in such an unreserved fashion.
Taylor had said the problem would be fixed by Friday morning, but she hadn't said
how. Now it was actually happening, and he still couldn't see how the trick was being pulled off.
Ms Stillons stood tall and straight as she offered the apology. Not a hint of sarcasm or deception came across in her words. "You were right to be angry, yesterday. I thought I knew what I was doing, but I ignored every safety precaution in the book. People could've been hurt, or worse. I understand that, and I won't do it again."
Gary didn't reject her words, but he did frown as he looked at her. "Okay, I hear what you're saying and I'm taking it into account, but how do we know it won't happen again if you get another wild hair up your butt about how slow we're doing things?"
"That's fair," she allowed. "I'd be worried about me, too. But what you didn't know is that Atropos came to my place last night and we had a long talk about being responsible on the worksite, along with other subjects."
A visible stir went through the assembled workers at that; the accompanying murmur might well have been something like
oh, shit.
Everyone there knew of Atropos, by definition. She was literally the reason the Committee even existed, and why there was so much money going into
everything.
The word 'respect' entirely failed to encompass the amount of regard in which the workers—unpowered, capes, and Eagletons alike—held her, by several levels of magnitude.
But
nobody
wanted her to knock on their door for a chat about how they'd been irresponsible on the worksite. That was very much on no bucket list ever. The fact that Ms Stillons had experienced such a visit (he doubted anyone even considered that she might be lying about it, because
ha ha ha fuck that) and was showing up for work anyway bespoke a level of intestinal fortitude accorded to few.
"Well … uh … okay." It was Gary's turn to blink as he absorbed the new information. "You're going to need to re-sit the tests on safety regulations, but once you pass that, you'll be back on the worksite." He drew a deep breath. "Also, I'm sorry I yelled at you and called you a moron. That was unprofessional of me." He held out his hand. "All good?"
"All good." Ms Stillons shook his hand. "Thanks for giving me another chance."
"It wasn't really my call," Gary admitted, glancing at Danny. "But after talking to you, I understand his decision."
"Good to hear." Danny clapped his hands once and raised his voice. "Okay, you layabouts. Show's over. Time to get back to earning your exorbitant salaries. Gary, I'll expect your written report on the entire incident, including the resolution, on my desk by day's end."
As the workers began to disperse, he opened the door of his work vehicle. He still had no idea how Taylor had pulled it off. And whether he'd understand the explanation, if she gave him one.
But if it fixed the problem, he decided, he could live without the explanation.
Relevant Side Story
Relevant Side Story
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----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
On the Boardwalk, Friday EveningGlory GirlVicky suspected she was enjoying the situation far more than she really should be, but she didn't care. Wearing jeans and a stylish blouse (because it was totally possible to be a knockout even when dressing casual), she leaned her butt up against the railing, while watching Amy work herself into a nervous wreck for no good reason. This was, she decided, the perfect revenge for all the snark Amy had aimed at her over the years for her own romantic mishaps."Where is she?" Amy fretted, trying not to pace back and forth, and failing. "She's decided not to come, hasn't she? She's called it all off.""Ames." Vicky spoke in her best 'you're being a doofus' voice, the one she usually aimed at Eric when he was being his brattiest. "What's the time? Check your phone."Amy fumbled the phone out of her pocket and looked at it. "It says ten minutes to seven. Why?""What time did she say she'd meet you here?""Um … seven?""So, she's still got ten minutes to get here." Now Vicky was emulating the professor in the Parahuman Powers class she attended at the College: calm, dry, no-nonsense. "To be honest, I'm still not sure why you had me bring you here so early.""So we wouldn't be late, duh!" Amy spread her hands. "Anything could've happened!""Why, yes." Vicky knew she was being sarcastic, but she rarely got to do that these days, especially with all the villains either dead, reformed and helping rebuild the city, or long since decamped. (Or, in one very special case,
funding
the rebuilding effort, but nobody called Atropos a villain anymore. Not out loud, anyway.) "The
four other fliers
in this city could have had a massive mid-air pileup, thus preventing us from getting here on time." She wasn't counting Kid Win in that number, because anyone who built tech to fly was cheating."Yeah, but …" Amy clearly wanted to keep arguing, but she was distracted by an approaching teenage girl. Tall, fit, and Asian, the newcomer was looking from Vicky to Amy and back again with a hopeful expression on her face."Hi," Vicky said, straightening up. "Can we help you?""Oh, uh, yes." The girl glanced at Amy again, then focused on Vicky. "You're Glory Girl and Panacea, right? Vicky and Amy Dallon?"Vicky nodded. "Sure, that's us. But we don't do autographs when we're out of costume." She gestured at her own jeans and blouse, and Amy's dress. "Sorry, but if you check our website we generally put upcoming public appearances on there.""Oh! Oh, no, no, I'm not here for that." She looked at Amy. "I'm here for the date. Emily said we were meeting up here at seven?""What?" Vicky did a double blink of surprise. "You're
Parian?" Only at the last minute did she remember to lower her voice so she didn't out the girl in front of everyone. There were no golden curls to be seen, but the ceramic mask could've easily had an attached wig. "Damn, you're
good.
I never would've made you.""No, she's not Parian." Amy spoke just a little ahead of the girl, then stopped herself and made a hand gesture for her to go ahead. "Sorry, after you.""She's right, I'm not." The girl chuckled a little nervously, then lowered her voice and glanced around. "I'm Flechette, but you can call me Lily.""Huh, I
thought
you looked familiar," Amy said, a grin breaking out across her face. "The Damsel caper last week, remember?""God, how could I forget?" Lily rolled her eyes expressively. "That was … I mean, I've done stuff for Atropos before, but that was
intense. I was seriously impressed by how well you and Miss Medic were holding up.""Ah, yeah, that's not as surprising as it might be." Amy shrugged modestly. "We've both worked with her before as well. I've, uh, helped rehabilitate a few capes with wonky powers, and Miss Medic did some other stuff for her. I actually met Mrs Yamada through Atropos, too. She's really nice.""Yeah, I got that impression." Lily nodded thoughtfully, before noticing Vicky's expression. "What?""The hell is this?" Vicky was more amused than upset, but she put on a good show anyway. "I'm
supposed to be the wild and crazy part of this team. How the heck do
you
get to go on adventures with her?"Amy smirked. "You're just salty because she baited you into attacking her, then clowned on you until I agreed to owe her a favour. She needed access to our powers more than she needed yours. Simple as that."Lily's eyes lit with combined curiosity and amusement. "I've never heard
this
bit before. Deets, I need them.""No, no, you don't." Vicky shook her head adamantly. "I did something really stupid, that could've gotten me killed. If I never hear about it again, I'll be happy." Casting about for a way to change the subject, she brightened. "Hey, did I ever tell you about how I met Damsel? She'd just joined the Betterment Committee, and we saved a guy's life together.""Only about a dozen times," Amy reminded her dryly. "And the bit of concrete she blew away gets bigger every time you tell the story.""Well, I haven't heard this one either." Lily's interest was obvious. "What bit of concrete?"Vicky cleared her throat, loftily choosing to ignore Amy's snark. "So, I was at school—Arcadia, if you know it—and I got a phone call from Atropos." She paused, looking past Lily as two more girls approached them, looking at her and Amy curiously. "Sorry, can we help you?""Ah, yes," said the petite Middle Eastern woman, who was maybe nineteen or twenty. Her companion was taller but looked to be around Vicky's age, and had curly brown hair and even more freckles than Amy got when she'd been out in the sun. "Panacea … Amy … right?"Amy's eyes opened wide. "Sabah? That's you? Wow! You look
amazing! I never would've guessed!"The young woman smiled shyly. "Yes, it's me. You look nice, too."Vicky's brain struggled to catch up, as though it were a car on the freeway that had been suddenly knocked into neutral. "Wait …
you're, uh, Sabah?" Just in time, she managed to avoid blurting out Parian's cape name. "Wow, that costume really hides a lot, doesn't it?" Amy gave her a Look, and she belatedly realised how insensitive she'd just sounded. "Uh, I don't mean that in a bad way. Your, uh, wig really threw me off, is all."Sabah loftily ignored the fact that both her companion and Lily were trying to avoid laughing out loud. "Don't feel bad. That's exactly what it's designed to do. I want people to think that of me, at least in costume, until I'm truly successful as a rogue. Once that happens, I intend to unmask and challenge everyone's preconceptions.""That, ah, might have been a tricky proposition if the Empire Eighty-Eight had still been in town, just saying," the Asian girl observed. "Hi, I'm Lily. I was at the fundraiser, chasing Atropos around the stage with Mouse Protector." She looked past Sabah as the latter moved toward Amy. "So, you're Emily? I like your freckles.""Thanks." Emily came over to stand in front of Lily. "Well, you know I was in the dragon costume, so I didn't see much of the show first-hand. It's comfortable, but it doesn't give me a huge amount of peripheral vision." She looked at Lily, and tilted her head slightly. "Somehow, I thought you'd be taller. Do you wear lifts in costume?""Heh. No. My boots have thick soles, but mainly it's the posture lessons from Image. Nobody likes them, but they have a way of sticking in the mind. Head up, back straight, be assertive without being aggressive." Lily rolled her eyes again. "They should maybe tone it down a bit if they want to get away from the 'child soldiers' rep that Youth Guard keeps trying to nail the Wards with.""Not just the Wards." The conversation had finally gotten around to a point where Vicky felt comfortable with jumping in again. "They've taken a few runs at New Wave ever since us kids got powers and started going out with the adults. Never
quite
stepping over the line by making up false reports, but the reports they handed in definitely had a bias to them. I remember one time, Crystal and Eric had to stand down from hero stuff until their grades came up to an acceptable level or something. They were
pissed.""Uh, this might be an unpopular opinion," Sabah ventured, "but isn't getting good grades a worthwhile idea in general? I know it's a strain sometimes to keep mine up, and I'm just a rogue. I can't imagine how it would be as a hero. And sooner or later, those grades are going to matter.""She's actually serious," Emily informed the others. "Now that we're all situated properly and starting to make money, she's got me and Bastet and Salvage doing online educational courses. Oracle's already going to school, so she's got her own thing.""Oracle, that's the one who looks like she wants to be Atropos when she grows up, right?" asked Lily. "I personally wouldn't want to mess with her when she's older."Emily shook her head. "Messing with her is a bad idea all around. We've all got her back, especially since she helped a couple of us get good jobs. And yes, she
can
see trouble coming.""Well, enough talking about people who aren't even here," Amy decided, linking her arm through Sabah's, to the latter's pleased surprise. "How about we talk about ourselves? Let's start with what sort of place we want to go and eat at.""And on that note, it's time I bowed out and left you guys to it." Vicky lofted into the air. "Have a good date, Ames. Call me if you need a lift.""Will do." Amy waved with her free hand, then returned her attention to Sabah.Vicky smiled to herself as she flew away. The temptation was there to hover (figuratively if not literally) and make sure Amy was okay, given that this was her sister's first voluntary date
ever.
However, she also knew it was the wrong thing to do on several levels.Amy was out with no fewer than three other people, all of whom were capes that Vicky knew by reputation if not personally. From what she'd seen, this was their first time meeting without masks to get in the way. But it looked like it had started off well all the same (a lot better than some of Vicky's dates, to be sure) and she'd given her sister all the advice she could think of for the situation. It was now up to Amy to make the most of the evening.Well, I'm not going on a date myself any time soon, thanks to Dean being a dick. But it doesn't mean I can't be sociable anyway.
<><>
AshleyNibbling on a hot pocket she'd just heated up in the microwave for a snack, Ashley reclined in her armchair (possibly the first piece of furniture she'd ever owned from new, and of which she was inordinately proud) and clicked the remote to wake up the TV. She'd stolen bigger ones from warehouses, but this one was
hers.The first channel she happened onto (there were a
lot
of them, and she was still exploring) had a comedy show playing. She'd never really gotten her head around comedians; it wasn't that she didn't have a sense of humour, but they were just so
boring.
Life was way too serious to spend time laughing at stupid jokes, anyway.But it was Friday night, and she had a little time before she needed to check on the oven (the cookbook she'd picked up was liberally bookmarked, and she was trying out pork cutlets) so she figured she might as well see what this one was like. So, she put the remote down and settled back to watch the show.Twenty minutes later, when the oven alarm went off, she staggered out of the chair, weeping with laughter. She had no idea why the guy's routine was so funny when everything else she'd ever tried to watch had fallen flatter than a stomped-on lead pancake, but it was. The only thing she could think of was how Scapegoat had taken all that shit out of her head, and Atropos had told her she was now capable of empathy.Holy shit, has all this been going over my head because I just couldn't see the funny side of anything?
It was a stunning thought, not least because she was able to recognise the thought as being stunning.
Exactly how fucked in the head was I, before?There was no good way to answer that question. Fortunately for her peace of mind, she was distracted by the phone ringing as she headed for the kitchen. Scooping it up, she was unsurprised to see Mr Hebert's name on the caller ID.Something's up on the worksite, and they need to call me in.
Mentally, she sighed regretfully for her pork cutlets, but that could be dealt with. "Hey, Mr Hebert. What's up? I can be ready to go in three minutes.""Actually, it's not a job site issue," he said reassuringly. "I just got a call from Glory Girl, asking if you're okay with her knowing your address."Ashley blinked a couple of times. "Did she say why?""She didn't give me a definitive answer. Something about dropping by for a social visit. I personally didn't get a problematic vibe out of it. But it's your privacy, so I'm checking with you first.""Huh." It was true that they'd worked together a couple of times, but that had been mainly her cutting off chunks of concrete for Glory Girl to ferry away. They hadn't exchanged ten words the whole time they were on the worksite together. Ashley had kept her distance, physically and verbally, but now Glory Girl wanted to reach out in some way? On the other hand, she trusted Mr Hebert's judgement. "I guess, sure.""Thank you, I'll pass that on. Have a good night.""Night, boss." She ended the call and dropped the phone on the counter beside the stove so she could check on the cutlets. They were simmering nicely but they looked like they needed to go for a little longer, so she set the alarm again. Then she headed back toward her armchair, thinking deeply about the phone call.
I wonder what she wants with me?A moment later, the intercom pinged, signalling that someone was at the front doors of the building. Grumping about people who had no sense of timing, she headed to the door and pressed the button to answer. "Who is it?"The small screen on the intercom lit up, showing Glory Girl's face. "Hi, it's me. Can I come in?"Wary instincts kicked in almost immediately. "Why?"A plastic shopping bag holding something rectangular and bulky was lifted into view. "Housewarming present?""Um …" That made even less sense. While she was vaguely aware what a housewarming gift was, she'd never gotten one before. "Okay, come on in." She hit the button to unlock the doors.The knock on the door came an impressively short time later. Heading back over to the door, she didn't bother setting the chain when she unlocked it. The chain—impressively sturdy as it was—was better suited for people who couldn't zorch a hole clear through potential home invaders with their fingertips.Opening the door, she looked Glory Girl up and down. The teen hero was dressed in clothing that was nice but not overly fancy. "Can I help you?" Ashley asked, for want of a better question.Glory Girl looked more than a little self-conscious, which paradoxically helped steady Ashley down. "Um, yeah, I was out and about with a few hours to kill, and we've worked together a couple of times for the Committee, so I figured that kind of made us colleagues, you know?""I guess." Ashley relaxed a little more, then focused on the bag she'd seen before. "Did you really bring me a housewarming gift?""Um, yeah." Glory Girl shrugged awkwardly. "I heard you'd just moved into a new place, so I thought I'd get you something, but I wasn't sure what. Mr Hebert knew your address, so I got this from a Seven-Eleven, and brought it over." She handed over the bag; taking it, Ashley saw that it contained a six-pack of glass bottles. "It's cider, non-alcoholic. Do you, um, do you drink cider?""I wouldn't know," Ashley confessed. "I've never tried it." She looked at the contents of the bag, then at Glory Girl. "Did you just … is this really ... I'm sorry, I've never been in this position before. I have no idea how to respond."Glory Girl half-shrugged and grinned. "Well, people usually say thank you, but you don't have to if it makes you feel—oof!"Since getting her powers, Ashley had never hugged anyone just to hug them. She had a good reason for holding off, because doing so up until very recently would have threatened to destroy whoever or whatever she was hugging. The only two people she'd had any real connection to following her upgrade were Atropos and Mr Hebert; she didn't feel as though Atropos was into spontaneous displays of affection, and hugging Mr Hebert out of the blue would be just plain inappropriate. But right now, Glory Girl had earned Ashley's first post-improvement hug."Wow, okay." Glory Girl's arms snuck around Ashley's waist and gave her a squeeze in return. "That's definitely a thank-you I'll take.""Huh, yeah." Ashley let her go and shook her head. "I don't normally do that, like, ever. But you brought me a
gift
after I basically ignored you at work. It's really nice, and I appreciate it. I just … it's not what I'm used to." She looked up and down the corridor. Nobody was leaning out their doors to watch them, but the impression of being under scrutiny was still there. "Umm … did you want to come in?" Stepping back, she pulled the door open."That'd be great!" Glory Girl smiled broadly as she stepped in through the doorway. "Ooh, this place is
nice.""Pfft, yeah, right." Ashley didn't want to sound snarky to a guest, but this was something she felt she had to address as she shut the door. "You're
Glory Girl.
You're part of a famous cape team, and your mom's a lawyer. I bet your bedroom's bigger than this whole apartment.""It really isn't. And it'd be nice if you could call me Vicky, when we're out of costume and off duty and stuff." Glory Girl—no,
Vicky—gestured around at the apartment. "When I move out of home, this is the sort of place I want to live in. Where it doesn't feel like Mom's going to be leaning over my shoulder at any minute.""You're moving out of home?" Ashley frowned. "Why? You're already part of a team. Your house is basically your home base. Why would you ever want to give that up?"Vicky pulled out one of the chairs from around the small table, and sat down. "Can I tell you something, just between you and me?""Uh …" Ashley could count the number of times a hero had shared a secret with her. It was somewhere between zero and one, and the first guess didn't count. "Sure, I guess." Opening the bag, she put the six-pack of cider on the table then pulled out another chair and sat down. "Shoot."Vicky took a deep breath. "Well, Panacea and I are talking about leaving New Wave altogether." She gestured at the window, and presumably at the city beyond. "You've seen what Brockton Bay is like, these days. There's no call for big teams here anymore. We're down to yelling at jaywalkers. The supervillains who had low enough self-preservation instincts that they actually came here after she cleared the rest out either died or got sent packing." She paused and cleared her throat, looking embarrassed. "Ah, sorry. Didn't mean to bring up painful memories."Ashley surprised herself by chuckling and shaking her head. "Not painful, unless you count embarrassment as pain. I honestly can't believe how moronic I was, thinking I could take Atropos on. She could've killed me outright, and I wouldn't have stood a chance. And then she got your sister and some others to fix my hands, so my blasts didn't go off any old time, and invited me right back." She rolled her eyes. "And
then, as an encore, she pulled the bullshittiest bullshit I've ever seen, and fixed all the problems that were rolling around inside my head. So basically, when she booted me out of Brockton Bay, that was her putting me on a shelf until she could deal with my problems for me."Vicky tilted her head thoughtfully, then grinned. "I bet I can beat you with an embarrassing bullshit Atropos story, with a side dish of me being an absolute moron.""Oh, you're on." Ashley tore the cardboard off the six-pack. "Want one? You said they were non-alcoholic, right?" She'd had booze before, but she wasn't really in favour of it. There'd been enough demons running around inside her head already."I did, and thanks." Vicky accepted the bottle and twisted the cap off. "Okay, so I'd never met Atropos before, but I'd been making noise on PHO every time she murdered someone, asking why someone didn't just fucking arrest her and get it over with."Ashley opened her own bottle and took a drink. It was dry and tart, but not bad. "I'm guessing this was early days, then. Before everyone decided that she was way too fucking scary to cross.""Pretty early, yeah. Just before she went through the Nine like a combine harvester on crack." Vicky drank from her bottle, then shuddered. "Eugh. Wow. It certainly has character, doesn't it?" Belying her words, she took another drink. "So, there I was with Ames, feeding the ducks in the park. What I
didn't
know was that Atropos was meeting her number-one fan for selfies at the other end of that very same park, and that she had a quarter in her pocket."As the story unrolled, Ashley found herself laughing just as hard as she had with the comedian on TV. It was refreshing to find out that she wasn't the only one who'd been casually slapped down by Atropos, as part of another plan the black-clad killer had running in the background. The cider was nice, too, as was the company."So, I'm pretty sure she even set Ames up with her date tonight,
somehow," Vicky concluded. "Because making my sister happy is apparently one of her hidden objectives, I guess? I dunno. But anyway, I dropped Ames off, and that's when I thought of coming over and giving you a housewarming present. I hope you liked it.""I did. I do." There were still two bottles of the cider left, but Ashley would definitely be buying more. She took a deep breath before she spoke the next words. "So, I've made pork cutlets. I can't promise they'll be all that great, but would you like to stay for dinner instead?""Are you
kidding? I was wondering what that amazing smell was." Vicky wasn't quite drooling, but the suggestion was there. "Are you sure?"Ashley smiled, an expression that was coming more and more easily to her, these days. "Positive."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
Saturday, March 12, 2011Glory Girl"Hey, wait up!"Some two hundred yards ahead, Crystal looked back over her shoulder. Vicky was too far back to tell if a look of exasperation had crossed her cousin's face, but Crystal slowed in her flight anyway. "What?" she asked as Vicky caught up."Nothing." Vicky grinned at the irritation that was
definitely
showing on her cousin's face now. "I just didn't want to have to trail behind you all the way, while you pretended not to be going where you're going, and I pretended not to be following you."Crystal slowed to a hover and folded her arms. "So where do you think I'm going, smartass?""Where you told Aunt Sarah you were going. Palanquin." Vicky emulated Crystal's pose, because it was funny. "Aunt Sarah called Mom, and Mom told me to go along with you and make sure nothing weird happened this time." She smirked and waggled her eyebrows. "Because apparently
I'm
the responsible one of the family, these days.""You?" An entire universe's worth of disbelief was packed into that one word. "Since when?"Vicky unfolded her arms so she could buff her nails, then study them critically. "Since I'm not the one who managed to make PHO's list of top ten walks of shame so far this year.""What—you—" Crystal gaped at her. "You—I—seriously, wow! That's
so
not fair! Would you like an annotated list of all the things you've managed to bust? Or should I just give you the link to the YouTube channel
Collateral Damage Barbie's Greatest Hits?"Just hearing the name of the last one made Vicky wince a little inside. Still, she managed to rally. "I'm doing better, these days. Ever since I got my wake-up call, I've been a lot more careful about not jumping in feet first. So yeah, I'm responsible.""Wake-up call?" Crystal tilted her head to one side. "What wake-up call?""I'm shocked Ames hasn't already told you." Vicky had more or less assumed this would be the case."Let me fix that right now." Crystal pulled out her phone."No, no, don't." Vicky waved for her to put it away again. "She had an amazing date last night, and I don't want you bothering her with my mess." She sighed. "It was when I first met Atropos. I went for her, but she took me down like it was an afterthought. Then she collapsed my force field and held her shears
this
far from my eye while she explained the facts of life to me."Crystal eyed the tiny gap between her finger and thumb and shuddered. "The facts of life?""Yeah, basically it boiled down to 'I can kill you any time I feel like it, so don't make me feel like it'
and 'if someone tells you to back the fuck off, it's time to back the fuck off'." Vicky drew a long breath, the recollection of the fear she'd felt at the time still strong in her mind. "Then she killed off the Nine and posted the footage online. Any doubts I'd had went out the window after that. Ever since then, I've been a lot more careful.""Yeah, no shit. That got
everyone's
attention." Crystal shook her head. "So, Miss Responsible Two Thousand Eleven, do Aunt Carol and Uncle Mark know about how you showed up at Damsel of Distress' place last night with drinks?"Vicky stared at her, astonishment flushing through her system. "What … how the fuck did you know
that?""Hah, so it
was
you." Crystal smirked. "Someone from her apartment building posted on PHO that they'd seen someone who looked a lot like you, carrying a shopping bag with what looked like booze inside it, getting all touchy-feely with Damsel before she let you inside." It was her turn to waggle her eyebrows. "So remind me again, how did you get to be the responsible one?""Oh, you've got to be fucking kidding me." Vicky gritted her teeth. "Okay, fine. Ashley and me both work for the Committee, sometimes on the same worksite. She had a big blowup with one of the site foremen on Thursday, so I decided to try to cheer her up last night by taking over a pack of cider as a housewarming gift." She glared at Crystal. "Non-alcoholic
cider, just to make it absolutely clear. Unlike
some
people, I don't drink underage.""Doesn't explain the touchy-feely bit," Crystal teased her.Vicky shrugged, on firmer ground now. "It's the first time she's ever had a housewarming gift, so she hugged me then invited me in for dinner. Afterward, we watched that new cape comedy on TV, then I went home. The end.""Oh,
To Mask or Not to Mask? I've heard it's pretty funny." Crystal looked vaguely disappointed that she had nothing to tease Vicky over. "Well, it was nice of you to be so neighbourly for her.""Oh, for sure. She's a lot of fun once she relaxes a bit." Vicky caught the look of disbelief on Crystal's face. "She
is.
She told me about how she didn't used to be, but Atropos pulled some bullshit on Thursday afternoon and helped her get rid of all her mental problems. And now she's learning how to be a person again. She's got an awesome sense of humour. We both nearly peed ourselves laughing when Hawkwing faceplanted that haystack.""Whoa, whoa, spoilers!" Crystal scissored her hands together. "I wanna watch that sometime, too!""Okay, sorry, sorry." Vicky grinned. "So, did you want to go meet your girlfriend?"Crystal wrinkled her nose. "She's not my girlfriend. They're not my girlfriends.""Methinks the lady doth protest overmuch." Now that she'd managed to steer the conversation back to Crystal's indiscretions, Vicky grinned. "Whatever you are to each other, it doesn't matter to me. But if Faultline's not your girlfriend, why were you going there, anyway?"Crystal gave Vicky a brief, measured glance. "Because Atropos is going to be there,
duh. One or more members of the Crew have problematic powers, so Melanie's asked if the powers can be killed. I've been invited to be there for it, basically as a witness, I guess."Atropos.
Vicky still held her in absolute respect, and she was of course aware that Atropos could kill powers. Like everyone else on PHO, she wasn't exactly certain how this was accomplished, except for a vague 'she wants the power gone, it's gone'. Because, as far as she could tell, that was exactly how it happened. And in all truth, she really didn't feel like pressing the issue, for several reasons; the main one being, 'what if she does it to me?'."Okay, then." She thought about it for a moment. "Do you think Faultline will have a problem with me coming along? Or will Atropos?"Crystal chuckled and shook her head. "I'll ask Melanie. But with Atropos, you're on your own." She took out her phone and called up a number. "Hi, yeah, it's me. I'm only a few minutes away. Listen, uh, Glory Girl's been assigned as my chaperone, sort of thing, and I need to know if it's okay for her to come in with me." A few seconds later, she nodded. "Uh huh, okay, yeah. Thanks, I'll tell her."From the tone of the last few words, Vicky thought she knew what had been said, but she still looked at her cousin curiously as Crystal put the phone away. "So, is that a yea or a nay?"Crystal shrugged. "She said it's fine with her, but if Atropos has a problem with it …" The sentence trailed off meaningfully."Haha nope, if Atropos has a problem, I'm outta there." That was a no-brainer in every sense of the phrase. However, she didn't think it would turn out that way. Given how prescient Atropos had been during every encounter they'd had, the black-clad killer no doubt knew she was coming along and had accounted for it. And while Atropos was whimsical, snarky, brutal, and thoughtful by turns, she was never actually
petty.Except for her love of doing jump-scares. Which Vicky couldn't really blame her for, having done exactly the same thing herself more than once.
She's just better at it."Good. Well, they're waiting on us." Turning in midair, Crystal set off again toward the distant bulk of the Palanquin building.Vicky followed along, simultaneously aware that while she wasn't really sure that she wanted to be there, she also wouldn't miss it for the world.
<><>
LaserdreamThey landed on the roof of the Palanquin building, just next to the roof entrance. The door was open, with a large bald man wearing pants and an open coat standing in the doorway. Crystal recognised him as Gregor the Snail; the translucent skin with the shell-like growths here and there were kind of a giveaway."Welcome to Palanquin," he said, in a kind of parody of formality. "Please come in, ladies." He had a slight accent, one that Crystal couldn't place. Maybe northern European?"Hi," Crystal said, then stopped. There was nothing she could think of to say about Melanie that didn't hold the possibility of severe embarrassment if it came out wrong. "I'm, uh, I'm pleased to meet you." She held out her hand. "Crystal."He shook it blandly, as though this sort of thing happened to him every day. To her relief, his skin didn't feel as weird as it looked, and he didn't go for the hyper-masculine hand-crunch. "It is good to meet you, Crystal. Call me Gregor." His expression was frankly curious, as though he was wondering exactly what his boss saw in her."And I'm Vicky, but you knew that." Stepping up alongside Crystal, Vicky stuck her hand out too.This had the possibly-deliberate effect of defusing the awkward moment as Gregor shifted his attention to her cousin. "I did, yes. You are aware that we have been invited back in by Atropos and that we will no longer be working illegally?" As he asked the question, he took her hand and shook it as well."Yeah, I'd heard something like that." Vicky chuckled. "You guys are way too smart to come back uninvited, and
nobody
second-guesses Atropos. Between the ex-villains and the Eagletons working on the reconstruction, we're getting stuff done amazingly fast.""Eagletons—oh, the robots." Gregor allowed the door to close, then turned and began to lead the way downstairs. "So they are working out, then?""Heck, yeah." Vicky sounded downright pleased. "There's enough work for everyone, and they've been slotted in where they can do the most good. According to them, they really appreciate the chance to show that they've been reformed
without needing to be reformatted."For a second, Crystal thought she was being serious, then she caught the sidelong grin and the way Vicky had emphasised the words, and she facepalmed. "Oh, God. Robot jokes? Really?""Hey, don't blame me." Vicky smirked. "Joe Eagleton told me that one himself."Crystal shook her head. "Why does that not surprise me? Gregor, back me up here. That was a terrible joke, and Vicky's a terrible person for repeating it.""It is not as bad as some I have heard from Newter." Although she couldn't see his face, he sounded like he was smiling.She decided to roll with it. "Hey, wait," she protested with a faux scowl. "You're supposed to be on my side, not hers!""Where is that written down?" He definitely sounded like he was enjoying himself. "I am sure you would not wish me to be prejudiced toward your opinion simply because you are friends with Faultline.""Hell, yes," she countered. "That's the first rule for dealing with friends of your boss, even before the Unwritten ones. Look it up.""Ah, but Faultline disapproves strongly of nepotism." He glanced back over his shoulder slyly. "I doubt she would give the okay for you to be shown any kind of undue favouritism, especially as you are a member of a totally different team." He opened a door from the stairwell and led them down a corridor.Crystal wasn't done yet. "It's not nepotism if you just agree with me. That's merely showing good judgement. Anyway, showing me favouritism isn't undue. It's
totally
my due. Just ask me.""We shall see." Gregor stopped at a large office door, opened it, and made an ushering motion. "Here we are."As she entered, Crystal saw that in the room was the entire lineup of Faultline's Crew, as well as Anne Barnes. Anne sat to one side, with Newter and Labyrinth on the other. Newter looked around Vicky's age, with orange skin, red-blond hair, and a five-foot-long tail; Labyrinth was in her early twenties, with platinum blonde hair and a dark green robe with a maze pattern on it. More oddly, a trellis with roses growing on it had erected itself over Labyrinth, and vines were climbing the wall. Melanie sat behind her desk, wearing her costume but with her welding-mask face covering lying in front of her."Crystal," she said warmly, standing up from behind her desk. "Good to see you again. Glory Girl, it's nice to see you too. I presume you know the score?""Yeah, Crystal and Gregor filled me in." Vicky looked around the room with undisguised curiosity, including the large window overlooking the currently-deserted main floor of the nightclub. "Wow, this is
not
a place I ever expected to find myself." She frowned as she looked at the other two ex-villains. "Newter, right? And … Labyrinth?" The last name was spoken uncertainly."That's correct." Melanie came around the desk and gave Crystal a hug and a kiss, and if both lingered a little longer than normal, that was their business and nobody else's. Then she turned to address Vicky. "I understand you've had dealings with Atropos before.""Oh, yeah." Vicky nodded. "She's absolutely a hardass if you try to screw her around, but play it straight and you haven't got a worry in the world."Crystal approached Anne. "When did you get here? I could've picked you up, you know."Anne snorted with amusement. "What, and get everyone all excited over us two flying to Faultline's place? I drove my car here, and parked out back. Newter was nice enough to let me in, about two minutes before you got here." Anne gave Crystal another hug and kiss, which she returned."Well, the gang's all here," Vicky announced. "And Atropos is undoubtedly about to make her usual dramatic entrance, right, Atropos?"The shadowy doorway appeared in the middle of the room, and Atropos stepped out of it. "What, were you expecting another jump scare? That's only funny a couple of times."Vicky rolled her eyes. "You certainly seemed to enjoy making
me
jump.""Some people are easier to startle than others." Atropos gestured toward Melanie. "Faultline, here? The first time I showed up in the passenger seat of her car, she jumped. But I bet she wouldn't twitch an eyelash if I popped up in front of her from now on." She tilted her head slightly, then went on in tones of fond recollection. "Ex-director Wilkins, on the other hand? I showed up in front of her and she literally fell out of her office chair."Newter was still sitting in his chair, though he'd visibly started when Atropos appeared. "I never met the woman, but I knew her by reputation. I'd have paid money to see that.""Check your emails. There's a link to the security footage in your inbox." Ignoring his sudden scrabbling for his phone, Atropos turned to Melanie. "So, is it just Labyrinth who wants to lose her powers, or do any other members of your Crew want to get rid of them as well? I can make it a package deal.""Ah, good point. I will certainly be keeping my powers. Gregor, Newter?" Melanie looked at the two named subordinates. "What's your choice in this matter?""I believe I will be keeping mine," Gregor decided stolidly. "I am used to them. Also, I suspect they may be useful if I find work with the Committee.""They absolutely will be," Atropos agreed. "I understand incoming capes get to talk to the Chairman, a Mr Hebert. He's apparently got a talent for placing people where their talents can shine."Newter looked up from his phone and nodded. "Yeah, sure, I'll keep mine too. Not sure what use they'd be, except for keeping out of the way of trouble, but I'll join up if they'll have me.""I suspect he might sub you onto the medical staff. Your sweat has no deleterious side effects, and would act as a potent painkiller if someone's been injured." Atropos nodded to him, then turned to Labyrinth. "Alright then. Let's do this. Elle, do you know who I am?"For a long moment, Crystal thought the young woman wouldn't respond to the softly-voiced question. Labyrinth—Elle—had that disassociated air that she'd seen in people with autism and other neuro-divergent conditions. If they went off into their own little worlds—and from what she'd seen in this room, it wasn't just a turn of phrase for Labyrinth—they were often very hard to bring back.But something about Atropos' tone or question triggered a response. Elle blinked, looking up at her. "Yes. You're the monster that hunts other monsters in the dark."Atropos may have smiled; Crystal couldn't tell. "That's a fair description," she allowed. "Do you want me to End your powers for you, so you don't see all those other worlds?"Long seconds ticked by while Elle considered that, or perhaps she was estimating the thread count in Atropos' morph mask. "I won't wake up in the jagged room anymore?" she asked eventually."Not even once." Atropos' voice was firm."There are many worlds, and some are very pretty." Elle's tone was contemplative. "But others are bad. And when I feel bad, I wake up in bad places." She gave Atropos a direct look. "Yes.""Jeeesus," muttered Newter. "That's the most she's spoken to anyone who wasn't us in, like,
ever.""Alright then." Atropos gestured, and there was suddenly a small plastic capsule in her hand. "There's a grape in there. Eat it."Elle took the capsule. It opened easily enough. "Like Alice?""Exactly like Alice. But don't expect a March Hare to come hopping through." Atropos seemed to be enjoying a private joke. Crystal suspected she knew what that was about, but she'd have to ask to be sure.Taking the grape out—it was a green seedless type—Elle popped it into her mouth, chewed and swallowed. Crystal found herself holding her breath. Atropos raised her hand; one finger seemed to be tapping the air like a timer. "… and
done," she declared, snapping her fingers for emphasis."What, that's
it?" asked Newter. "No offense, but …""None taken." Atropos pointed at the wall, where the vines had started to creep across the ceiling. As Crystal watched, they retreated, pulling back down the wall to the trellis. The roses closed, the buds shrank into the vines, and the whole assemblage gradually deconstructed itself back into the wall."Elle?" asked Melanie, stepping closer and taking the young woman's hands in hers. "How do you feel?""Um, wow?" Elle said uncertainly. "I feel like I've just had the world's biggest jolt of caffeine. It's as if I've just woken up properly for the first time since I got powers.""Do I want to know what the jagged room was?" Vicky asked of the room. Crystal had wanted to know that too, but hadn't been sure how to ask.Gregor fielded that one. "Elle had many unpleasant memories of the asylum, seen through the filter of her powers. Sometimes she would wake up and her room had a solid metal door with spikes on it. Razor-edged rusty blades hanging from the ceiling. Any incautious movement would draw blood. The longer she stayed in that room, in that mental state, the farther the influence would spread through the building.""Hey, Elle," Newter offered. "Do you remember me?""Sure," she replied, far more animated than she had been before ingesting the grape. "I know who you all are, and I truly appreciate everything you've done for me." Standing up, she hugged a startled Melanie. "You took me in, and took care of me, and helped me get control of my powers so I didn't get lost in my own head so much. Thank you
so
much.""Your vocabulary's impressive for someone who's been stuck with power complications for ten years," Melanie observed, but she didn't pull free of the hug."Well, duh." Elle chuckled. "While I've been hanging out with you guys, I've heard everything you said. My brain made sense of everything that came in, but outgoing communication was locked down hard. Until now, of course." She turned a beaming smile on Atropos. "And thank you, too.""You're entirely welcome." Atropos nodded to Melanie, then to Crystal and Anne and Vicky. "My work here is done. Toodles." Raising her hand, she snapped her fingers and vanished."Um … okay, then." Crystal shook her head. "That definitely happened." And, if she was being honest with herself, it had been way more painless than she'd expected."So you're back with us for good, then." Newter grinned broadly. "Awesome.""You are just saying that because it means no more babysitting duty," Gregor said, so blandly that Crystal was almost taken in by his words."Dude!" Newter had apparently fallen for it. "Not cool!"Elle broke away from Melanie. "Gregor, that was mean. Newter, it's fine. You were a great babysitter."Crystal, Vicky, and Anne approached Melanie. "So, uh, what are your plans now?" asked Crystal. "I thought you were selling this place.""The sale still hasn't gone all the way through. It'll cost me a fee to reverse it, but I can eat that cost." Melanie gestured at the window, and the club beyond. "Assholes were lowballing me because I wanted to get out fast, so I wouldn't have got as much as I wanted. Anyway, I was thinking about rebranding. If we set up to cater for Committee workers, maybe put in pool tables and suchlike, we'd be good for as long as the reconstruction lasted. Beyond that, if most of them stayed."Anne nodded. "In my non-expert opinion, I think that could work. Have a non-alcoholic section for the Committee workers who aren't twenty-one yet, and make sure never the twain shall meet, and you might have a winner there.""Yeah." Vicky snorted in amusement. "I'm pretty sure you couldn't get away with that a second time, even on the campus."Melanie grinned and flipped her off. "So, noted. Now, all I have to do is figure out how to cater to the Eagletons. I'm sure they'd come to the club along with their buddies, but how do you serve alcohol to a robot in a way that makes sense?" At that moment, her phone pinged audibly. "Hang on, this could be the real-estate guys now."As Melanie pulled out her phone to check it, Crystal felt Anne's hand bump into hers, and she twined her fingers with the other girl's in a way that felt totally natural. She could tell that Vicky, on her other side, was pretending to ignore the surreptitious hand-holding, but she didn't care.Melanie huffed out an exasperated sigh. "Okay, now she's just yanking my chain on purpose." She tapped the screen, then flicked it to swipe across."Who's yanking your chain, and how?" asked Anne. Crystal suspected she knew the who, if not the how.Melanie cleared her throat. "I just got emailed a bunch of technical diagrams and specs. 'How to Safely Emulate the Effects of Alcohol in Robots'.
Author name: A. Tropos."Crystal found herself giggling uncontrollably, and Anne joined in a moment later. That was so
totally
Atropos. All four of them ended up laughing at the shared joke, while the other three stared at them oddly. This only made Crystal laugh harder.It wasn't just the tongue-in-cheek author name, though that was part of it. Most of her mirth stemmed from the release of tension; she hadn't known
what
was going to happen at Palanquin, even with Vicky along, and the ease and smoothness of the whole process had left her on the back foot."Well, damn," Vicky observed after they'd sobered a little. "Looks like you're gonna be running the first robot nightclub in the world. How cool's that?"Crystal nodded and squeezed Anne's hand. "Pretty damn cool."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
Stanley Partridge considered himself to be smarter than average. Ever since he was old enough to understand his options, he'd always made the choice that benefited Stanley Partridge. Everything else came second.Why study, he'd reasoned as far back as middle school, if what they're testing you for won't ever apply in real life? He had better things to do with his time. So he'd befriended the hardest workers in his grade and persuaded (or coerced) them into 'helping' him with his schoolwork.Going into high school, he didn't always have the option of getting someone to do his work for him, so he learned to cheat in other ways. Whether it was teasing open the lock of the teacher's desk to get an advance look at the next test paper, or bribing someone from a higher grade to help him out, he was always one step ahead of the administration.It occurred to him once when he was sneaking into the school in the dead of night that if he applied that kind of effort to actually studying, he could come by the marks honestly, but he dismissed the thought. If he started playing the game by their rules now, it would mean they'd won, that their way was better than his.It would mean they were smarter than him.And that just wasn't true. He was smarter than them. He was smarter than
everyone.At the end of tenth grade, he dropped out of school. This was a calculated move: on the one hand, he'd heard that it was a lot harder to fake doing the work in eleventh and twelfth grade. The teachers were a lot sharper (though they still weren't on his level), and might pick up on copied work. Also, bribing someone of a higher grade to help wouldn't work once he hit twelfth grade anyway.On the other hand, he already knew everything he needed to about life. He was sixteen, but husky enough to pass for eighteen. There was no doubt in his mind that he could get any job he wanted, and learn to do whatever it was better than anyone.And that was when he hit his first snag.Up until then, he'd always been able to wriggle his way though the cracks presented by people who didn't care enough to pay real attention to his words and deeds, and those who were venal enough or scared enough to give him what he needed. But now, presenting a good front wasn't enough. It didn't matter that he was a quicker thinker than the people he was seeking to get a job from; they had vastly more experience in the world, and in the type of bullshit he was trying to peddle, than he did.For the first time in his life, he hit a brick wall. Unlike the teachers he'd left behind, his prospective employers actually wanted to see ability, demonstrated in front of them. If he couldn't perform, they had no incentive to give him a pass and move him on to where he wanted to be. There was no option for persuading or wheedling, and no second chances. They simply said 'no' and turned him away. A couple even said, "Go back to school."He didn't go back to school. Going back to school would be an admission that he'd made the wrong move, that he wasn't as smart as he knew he was. Instead, he persuaded himself that he didn't
really
want to become a wage-slave for
The Man. That way was for idiots and morons.But he still needed money. There was no work going, even for casual labour, because Brockton Bay wasn't exactly an economic powerhouse. However, there were still ways to get ahead for someone who had their ear to the ground and an eye out for the main chance. Long story short, his best bet was to join a gang.His choices in this regard were somewhat more limited than he'd initially thought. Drugs were not his entertainment of choice (except maybe for a bit of weed every now and again), so Skidmark's almost-gang wasn't even a possibility. He wasn't Asian, so the ABB were off the table. The name Coil had cropped up, but the guy didn't recruit from inside Brockton Bay.Which left the Empire Eighty-Eight.While this would've been problematic with someone of a more ethical bent, it didn't bother Stanley overmuch. He didn't hate minorities, but he didn't love them either. If kicking someone's ribs in was what it took to get a place in the gang, then ribs would be kicked. He was smart enough to know that his own welfare came first.So he took his place in the Empire Eighty-Eight, and life was good. Some got tattoos as a way of showing their loyalty to the gang, but anyone with an ounce of savvy knew that such permanent markings had a way of coming back to bite people in later life, so he always had an excuse why he wasn't going to get one
quite
yet. Getting a buzz-cut was almost as good, and hair could always grow back.Months passed, then years. He wasn't stupid enough to put himself forward when it was something that could get him killed, because he was just using the Empire Eighty-Eight as cover. But when someone
else
did, he had no problem with moving up in the ranks.Then Atropos came to Brockton Bay, and everything went tits-up and sideways, all at once.Kaiser got taken out on the second day, before Stanley even thought it was time to get concerned. As a direct result, every cape in the Empire Eighty-Eight either left town or (in the case of Hookwolf) died. The gang itself began haemorrhaging members, of whom Stanley was one, because hanging on past its use-by date was not what he considered the best move in the world. He didn't have to worry about the ABB, because Lung died twenty-four hours after Kaiser did, and Skidmark bit the dust one day after that.There was definitely a trend going on here. Criminal capes were on Atropos' radar, so Stanley did the smart thing and kept his head down. Even if the Nine came to town, he decided, he wouldn't try to sign up with them. (And then they did try, and died, which only proved he'd been right all along).But once again, even as villains and their minions were dying all over the place in numbers that could've been avoided
if they'd just stayed away, he needed an income stream. There still wasn't much work going around, so he decided to keep doing what he had been before, but go freelance with it. If he didn't kill anyone, and didn't hurt people unless they did something really stupid, he was pretty sure Atropos would have a lot of other people to go through before she got to him.Plus, she always gave two warnings. He paid attention to things like that. One would be enough for him.By the time the Betterment Committee kicked over (and he got his stimulus card) he'd gathered to himself a bunch of like-minded guys, who listened to what he said about not getting the attention of the scary girl in black. He could've quit crime at that point and applied for employment on the rebuilding, but that sounded too much like
work
to him, and he'd already made the decision once before that working for
The Man
was a fool's game. So, while some of his people went to become wage-slaves like the rest of the sheep, he stayed independent, because he knew better than them that the work wouldn't last. It never did.And so, there he was one fine Saturday night, lurking with his boys in a side-street just off the Boardwalk. There was more money about these days, so pickings were definitely better than when he'd first gone freelance. It only proved what he'd already known; you just had to be smart about who you picked to rob.
<><>
Boardwalk, Saturday Evening, March 12Anne Barnes"So, what's the plan for tonight?" asked Crystal, lounging against the rail and looking
amazing
in a blouse and slacks of magenta and white; while ruby earrings, a purse, and a hairband of the same colour made up the rest of her ensemble. "Did we have anything in mind, or were we just going to wing it?"Melanie had chosen a severe black theme, with a dress that had been cut to be flattering to her form (not that it needed to work very hard). Her shoulder-bag, bigger than most, also came in black. She'd gone with makeup and jewellery in various muted shades of colour, which made her look dark and mysterious and cool. "I was thinking we could start with a meal at
Drinks on the Bay, followed by a stroll to take in the sights of the Boardwalk then a movie. Sounds good?"Anne nodded. With an idea of how Crystal and Melanie would dress, she'd opted for ocean and beach colours to draw out her eyes and hair, and she thought she looked okay, but nowhere near as good as they did. "Sure. Dad took Mom out to dinner there after the reopening, a couple of weeks ago. They came home raving about the seafood platter.""I do like seafood," Crystal agreed. "If it's that good, I'll have to tell my folks about it too." Linking her arm through Anne's, she tilted her head in the direction of the restaurant.Melanie smiled. "I
have
read good reviews about it. And of course, having members of New Wave dining there can't hurt its reputation in the slightest." She came in on Anne's other side, so that Anne had a cape on either arm. Together, they started off along the Boardwalk."If we're trying to keep whatever we've got on the down-low until
we
figure out what it is, maybe we shouldn't make a big deal about who Crystal is once we get there," Anne suggested. She gave Crystal an apologetic shrug. "Not trying to tear you down or anything, but PHO can be pretty unforgiving. And all it takes is one person posting a photo online, especially without context.""Or even
with
context," Crystal agreed with a smile. "Trust me, Aunt Carol's waxed lyrical on the subject. All us kids had it explained to us multiple times that we
always
had to assume there was a camera pointed at us whenever we were in public, and that we were never, ever off the record." The smile became almost a grimace. "I would've expected Eric to be the one to slip up on that, but Vicky was the one who stepped in it more often than not.""Oh, the Collateral Damage Barbie stuff?" Anne had watched a few clips from that channel. Most were funny, but a few were just cringe-inducing. "Has she gotten better—wait. Is that who I think it is?"Because both arms were occupied, she nodded toward the quartet of girls up ahead; two had been on the Boardwalk already, and were greeting the other two who had just gotten off at the bus stop. It might just have been the fact that she had Crystal on her arm, but one of the girls looked remarkably familiar, despite being dressed up to the nines. The frizzy hair, normally hidden under a hood, had been brushed to a gleam and was neatly tied back, but her face was still recognisable."Huh, you're right," Crystal confirmed. "It
is
Amy. I'd heard she had a girlfriend. Good for her."Melanie chuckled as they drew closer. "It does seem to be getting around, doesn't it?"Something Anne's sociology professor had once said came back to her. "It's more that the societal pressure against same-sex romance in Brockton Bay has eased all the way off, so people are feeling more free to express it. It's coming out now because it was here all along but suppressed, not because it's something new." The more she thought about it, the more that seemed to apply to her own situation as well.
Colour me surprised. He had a point.A moment later, one of the girls looked around and said something to Panacea, who turned in their direction. Anne would've bet a large amount of money that it was something along the lines of, 'hey, isn't that your cousin?'. Instead of ducking away—as Anne half-expected her to do—Amy smiled broadly and led the way toward them."Hi, Amy," Crystal greeted her as they got close enough to talk. "Vicky said you went out on a date last night. It must've gone really well if you're going out again tonight.""Oh, yeah, we had a ball." Amy gestured toward the Asian girl who was part of the other couple in her foursome. "But Lily's only in town until Monday morning, so we're making the most of it. Um, so this is Sabah, and that's Emily, and of course this is Lily. Everyone, meet my cousin Crystal, and Anne Barnes, and … I'm sorry, I don't think we've met?"Melanie smiled and introduced herself, and there was a round of
nice-to-meet-you
and
how-are-you-doing
as was usual for this sort of thing. In the middle of it, Anne caught Melanie exchanging a brief nod with Amy and realised that the healer had pretended ignorance of the former's identity, despite almost certainly having been briefed by her parents about what had happened. If she was reading the signs right, Amy was doing her own little bit to keep the potential three-way relationship under wraps until it became unavoidably public."So where were you going to, anyway?" asked Crystal. "We've all heard good things about
Drinks on the Bay, so we were going to start our night there."Amy's date, the shy young woman called Sabah, took a step closer to Melanie. "Excuse me, but where do you get your dresses done? The cut is very nice.""Sabah's a fashion student at the College," Amy explained briefly, then refocused on Crystal. "We hadn't really decided, to be honest. I think we were just going to head along the Boardwalk until the growling of our stomachs got too loud to hear ourselves talk, and get something to eat wherever we were."Anne tilted her head. "Actually, now you come to mention it, I think I have seen you around the campus. Huh. Small world.""I've, uh, had to tailor my own clothing from time to time," Melanie explained. "I bought this one off the rack, but since then I've altered it here and there to fit me better." She looked at Amy's group. "You know what? It's been a really good day for me, so I'm going to do something nice to celebrate. How would all four of you like to come to the restaurant with us? My treat."Anne met Crystal's eyes briefly; they both knew exactly what she was referring to, and Anne personally agreed that it was grounds for celebration. From the look on Crystal's face, she thought so too."Only if you're sure," Amy said uncertainly. "I mean, so long as it's not just because you and Crystal are friends."Melanie chuckled warmly. "Well, I'd be lying if I said that wasn't part of it, but it's more than just that. A good friend of mine had a huge problem Ended today, and it's a massive weight off everyone's mind. So, this is me paying it forward."From the flicker of recognition in Amy's eye, she'd possibly picked up on Melanie's tone, but again she didn't call attention to it. "Well, okay then. Thank you so much. Guys, the decision has been made. We're going to the restaurant.""Wow, thank you!" the girl called Emily gushed. "That's so amazing!"Sabah nodded in agreement. "We really appreciate it. I've heard it's a nice place.""Yeah, what they said," Lily added. "This is all kinds of awesome.""So, which way is it again?" asked Crystal.Amy pointed. "Down this way, I think."
<><>
Stanley"Heads up!" hissed Fedor, the lookout. "Seven chicks, no guys!"That was exactly what Stanley wanted to hear. Guys in a situation like this sometimes got a rush of testosterone to the brain and did something stupid. He preferred it when everyone understood how this sort of thing went and
cooperated. And if they were tourists, they could even go home with a story about how they got mugged in Brockton Bay. Looked at in the correct light, it was almost a rite of passage."Places!" he ordered, keeping his voice down as he ducked into his chosen hiding spot.It was the kind of narrow side-street that could be found throughout Brockton Bay, allowing one-way transit between the Boardwalk (and the businesses that fronted onto it) and Lord Street proper. Perfect for his purposes, it was wide enough not to be an actual alleyway (which nobody with half a brain walked down in Brockton Bay, for obvious reasons) but still narrow enough that people
could
be trapped in it and made to give up their worldly goods without too much of a fuss. The dumpsters that lined it took up most of both sidewalks, forcing any pedestrians to walk on the road itself, and incidentally providing ample hiding places for people like his little gang.He hadn't named the gang. This was because he wasn't a fucking
idiot.
Only people who wanted official attention gave themselves grandiose names.The group of seven—young women and teenage girls—walked casually down the street, chatting as they came. Peering through a gap between dumpsters, Stanley could see two of the women glancing around, but the rest were cheerfully oblivious. He resolved to keep an extra careful eye on the tallish black-haired one, who walked like she knew how to handle herself, and the blonde chick, who looked kind of familiar.At the right moment, he threw a rock across the street, to hit the dumpster on the far side. At that signal, everyone jumped up out of cover and moved across to block the road; four in front, four behind. The soon-to-be-mugging-victims had paused at the sound, which broke their momentum, just as he'd planned. Now they were stalled in the middle of the street, with his men surrounding them."Ladies," he said, because opening with politeness often made women feel that they had to respond in kind, even if you
were
robbing them. "You can't run away, and I'd advise you not to try to fight us. All we want are your valuables, and then you can go on your way. So hand them over, and this doesn't have to get unpleasant."The red-headed chick gave him what was probably supposed to be a withering stare. He'd had worse. "You
really
have no idea how big a mistake you just made, do you?"Great. A feisty one.
Some men claimed to like chicks with 'verve' or 'spunk' or whatever the term was these days. Stanley didn't, because if one decided to put up a fight, then the others might join in, and then shit would get messy. "Honey, I'm not the one who just walked down a dark street, right into the middle of a bunch of muggers. Now, start getting your valuables out, because if my guys have to go and get them, I can't answer for the consequences.""Yeah, actually, you can." He couldn't believe it. She was literally answering him back? "My Dad's a lawyer, and he says if you commit a crime, you're responsible for everything that happens as a result."His temper was at breaking point. "I honestly don't give a fuck. Now, shut your mouth before I shut it for you."She turned to the tall black-haired woman beside her, one of the pair who'd been looking around earlier. "He's being mean to me. Make him stop."The woman she'd addressed—who, now Stanley was paying attention to her, looked fit as
fuck—gave him a once up-and-down, leaving him feeling like he was a slab of beef that had been found wanting. "Go ahead," she said in a tone that was anything but inviting. "Come over here and try to shut her mouth.""Okay!" the blonde chick snapped, and
fucking levitated six feet straight up.
"Enough's enough. I'm Laserdream of New Wave, and you're all under arrest. Put down any weapons you've got, and we're all gonna wait for the cops.""Nuh-uh." Stanley could see the odds were still solidly in favour of his guys. "What we've got is you plus six hostages. Power down now, and nobody gets hurt. Or fly away; I don't care." He knew she couldn't just open fire with her lasers, because him and his guys were normals, not capes, and killing muggers wasn't a good look for
anyone, much less New Wave.The frizzy-haired girl raised her hand. "Panacea of New Wave, here. Do you
really
want to fuck with capes? Because this is
not
going to go the way you expect it to."While a couple of his guys looked nervous, Stanley kept his head. He did a quick scan of the rest of the women, looking for more New Wave members. No guys, so that left out Flashbang and Manpower. Nobody else was blonde, so that settled it. "You're not a front-line cape. And last I heard, you can't even heal yourself, so I'd keep your opinions to yourself if I were you.""This guy is really pissing me off," remarked the Asian chick. "Can we
please
do something about this?"Stanley had had enough. "Shut up!" he yelled, pulling out his folding knife and clicking it open. "Get their stuff!""Don't cut anyone!" Panacea shouted as he started to close in with his guys. "I don't want to get blood on this dress!""That's not—" Stanley's retort was cut short as the tall black-haired chick cut out of the group like a shark through minnows, heading straight for him.He waved his blade at her, but she tapped it with a fingertip; to his astonishment, it fell apart in a burst of reddish energy. Then her fist came in, hard and fast. She had moves, but he was okay with being hit. It wouldn't be the first time, or the last.The punch nearly took his head off, or felt like it. Pain exploded across his jaw as he felt teeth come loose, and he spun around, losing his balance. The asphalt came up to meet his face, then he rolled onto his back.Off to the side, he saw the Asian chick dancing between two of his guys, handing out elbows and palm strikes like they were on Christmas special, knocking them on their asses. A couple more of his guys had tripped and fallen before they even got close. Two more were facing off against the chick with curly brown hair, right before she spewed a line of fire that set a garbage can alight and forced them to reconsider the idea.Fedor came in after the chick who'd dropped Stanley, but he fared no better. When she kicked him between the legs, there must've been something extra behind the kick, because the big Russian émigré went down like a busted folding chair. And then it was all over. Eight in, eight down, and the women were barely breathing hard."Like I said," Laserdream told him, coming in for a landing beside him. "You're all under arrest. Being a mugger in Brockton Bay, these days? Not a smart career move at all."
Relevant Side Story
<><>
Hebert HouseholdTaylorI relaxed slightly on the sofa. Amy and Lily were no longer in any danger (not that they'd been in much peril to begin with) and Parian and Spitfire were okay as well. Between them, Laserdream and Faultline were mopping up the casualties. I figured they'd be irritated that they'd have to wait for the police, but I'd already made an anonymous call two minutes before, and the BBPD response time was vastly improved from even a month ago.The fight had been impressively handled. Between Parian literally tying together the shoelaces of some of the muggers and Faultline's surreptitiously donned knuckledusters (and the concealed steel toes in her stylish looking boots), Laserdream hadn't even had to intervene, aside from putting a protective force field over Amy, Anne and Parian. It just went to show that I wasn't needed to sort out
every
last detail of cleaning up the city."All good?" asked Cherie, beside me, without looking up from her new book; this one was called
Rabbit Hill.
I'd enjoyed it, once upon a time.She was turning out to be quite the bookworm, once encouraged to start. I found it endearing."Yeah." I stretched without getting up. "They handled it just fine.""Cool."The house phone rang, and Dad got up to answer it. I picked up the remote and muted the TV so he'd be able to hear whoever was on the other end. Hopefully, it wasn't some aspect of Committee business that would drag him back to the offices at this late hour. Nothing was pinging on my radar, anyway."You've reached the Hebert household, Danny speaking." He paused, his eyes staring into nothing. "Chief Director Costa-Brown? How can I help you?"Sitting up, I pointed to myself, then yanked my mask out of my pocket—I'd had no idea why I needed it, but that was Ending all over, the troll—and pulled it on over my head. I was standing all the way up by the time it was on all the way, and heading toward where Dad was."No need for me to contact her," he answered whatever she said. "She's right here. Betterment Committee business. I'm giving the phone to her now."Taking the receiver, I put it to my ear. "Atropos speaking," I reported. "What's the situation?" Because I was
damn
sure Costa-Brown wouldn't be trying to contact me for a casual chat. I also knew that she'd trained her hearing well enough to tell if I was talking through cloth or not; thus, the mask."Are you aware of the Sleeper situation?" Her tone was clipped but deferential. "If you're already dealing with it, I'll leave you to it."A lightning-swift survey of my threatscape showed no indication of Sleeper aggressing on me or the people I saw as being important. "Assume I'm not. Brief me.""He's on the move from eastern Russia, heading for Alaska. Our best analysis of the situation is that he's bound for the White Rock portal.""Earth Shin," I filled in, to show I knew what she was talking about."Precisely. As you're probably aware, trade is beginning to take place through the portal, under careful scrutiny from both sides. But if he gets there, he'll just blow through all the safeguards and step on through. They don't have anything capable of stopping him on that side, and they'll kill themselves trying.""And as far as they'll be aware, it'll have been an unprovoked attack from our side," I concluded."Yes. Also, the death toll in Shin itself will be unprecedented, outstripping even the worst excesses of Goddess' reign." She didn't try to appeal to my better side, probably because she was aware that as far as she was concerned, it didn't exist. It was blunt facts, all the way down the line."Understood. Thanks for filling me in." I hung up the phone and pulled off my mask as I stood there, thinking about what I'd just learned.While Sleeper invading Earth Shin wasn't going to have any specific effect on the ongoing improvements to Brockton Bay, there were extraneous details I had to consider.Earth Bet, as Costa-Brown had reminded me, was now officially trading with Shin. The more ongoing trade we had with them, the more prosperity there would be on both sides. Over and above that, I'd
personally
told the people of Shin that they had nothing more to fear from Bet, and that they were free to remake their society from the dictatorship of Goddess into something more democratic and manageable.If Sleeper burst through the portal, he'd fuck that whole process up with slightly less delicacy and tact than a red-hot poker being forcibly jammed where the sun didn't shine, thus (among other things) making me into a liar. My brand, as far as the natives of Shin were concerned, would be well and truly tarnished.That shit was
not
going to fly."Welp," I said, heading back into the living room. "That's
my
weekend shot all to hell.""Why?" asked Cherie, looking up from where she'd been pretending to read her book. "What's going on?"I huffed a sigh of irritation. "Sleeper's being a dick, so guess who's got to do something about him?""Well, shit.""Yup."Relevant Side Story
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
Sunday AfternoonCherie"The problem with Ending Sleeper isn't the physical act of killing him," Taylor explained as she donned what Cherie privately thought of as her 'working clothes'. Costumes tended to be flashy and occasionally impractical; the Atropos outfit was dramatic without being flashy, and it was totally practical. "He can totally die, and Ending's given me four or five ways to make that happen."Which was four or five more ways than Cherie had figured out so far. "Okay, so if you can gank his sorry ass, where's the problem?"Taylor grinned as she knotted the tie with finger movements so rapid it put Cherie in mind of a stage magician practicing sleight of hand. "I bet you never would've thought of using that phrasing about him before you met me."Cherie blinked. Taylor had been totally on point with that observation. "Haha, no, not a chance." Insofar as she'd ever even
thought
about Sleeper, she'd just been glad that he was all the way over in Russia. At the time, he'd belonged to the category of cape labelled 'nope'. As far as she was concerned, he still did."Didn't think so. But to answer your question, killing him's the easy part. The hard part is delivering the warning. Just like everyone else, he gets twenty-four hours. The trouble is, he's not
on
PHO, or any social media, or even anywhere he can get email or text messages. So I can't deliver a private warning, or even a public one, via the internet." With the tie done up and tucked into her vest, Taylor shrugged into the long-coat. "I'm going to have to do it the way process servers do it: from my hand to his. Though I'll forego the signed receipt, just this once.""Wait, wait, hold on a second." Cherie stood up from where she'd been sitting on the bed and made a 'time-out' gesture with her hands. "Last I heard, Sleeper's an S-class threat. I don't even know
what
the fuck his powers are, except that people just don't go up against him. The
Endbringers
didn't get that level of respect, when they were still around. I guess what I'm asking is, why does he rate a warning?""Because that's how I've said I'm going to do it from now on, so that's how I do it." With the mask in her hand, Taylor gave Cherie a serious look. "People thought giving Ellisburg and Eagleton their warnings was a fool's errand. Nilbog didn't surrender, but we got two hundred plus loyal citizens out of Eagleton. Pastor surrendered after a warning, and the capes in Gary and Gallup walked out without a fight. If they can listen to reason, then so can Sleeper, so he gets a warning.""Okay, so if you know four or five ways of killing him, why's just delivering the warning, even by hand, such a problem?" Cherie spread her hands. "I've
seen
you fight. Hell, the first time we met, you kicked the shit out of me. Nobody and nothing can lay a hand on you if you don't feel like it.""It's a problem because his powerset is seriously bullshit." Pulling out her computer chair, Taylor sat down and grabbed a notepad. As Cherie raised a finger, she added, "And before you say what you're thinking: yes, this is from the point of view of being
me."Grumpy at having her line defused, Cherie sat back down. "Okay, what are his powers, and how are they so bullshit that they even give you problems?"Taylor took up a pen and started writing, then turned her head to face Cherie while the pen kept moving across the page. "First off, they're wide-ranging. We're talking a radius of several miles. Second, they involve effects that alter the body directly, alter the laws of physics in ways that can be made permanent, or affect you through your mind. Specifically, if you happen to have powers that let you keep your body intact and ignore alterations of physics, his power gets in through your mind and negates your other protections so you're vulnerable to him anyway."Thinking this over, Cherie frowned. "So, what's the
point
of having a power like that? You told me once that powers want conflict so they can process the data. If he's so powerful that everyone he faces either dies instantly or runs away, where's the conflict? Where's the data?"Taylor finished writing and put the pen down. Turning the chair around, she leaned back in it and crossed one immaculately booted ankle over the other. "Ending says some powers are set up for others to bounce off. Ash Beast, Nilbog, Sleeper and so forth. They're not there to gather data, but to
cause
conflict wherever they go. Kind of like the Endbringers, but passive rather than active, and too much trouble to actually gang up on and kill." She grinned. "Usually, anyway.""Well, yeah." Cherie grinned back. As Atropos, Taylor had been remarkably effective at dealing with previously insurmountable problems like Nilbog and the Endbringers. "So, you think he'll play ball, or are you going to have to kill him anyway?"When Taylor wrinkled her nose, Cherie had her answer. "Ending isn't saying how it's gonna play out, one way or the other."Cherie nodded to show she understood. "Okay. So, what kind of pun on 'sleep' were you thinking of using to End him if he doesn't stand down?""There's a lot of options to choose from," Taylor admitted. "Sleeper hold, overdosing on sleeping pills, beating him to death with a club marked SLEEP, and so on and so forth. But Ending and I have been working on another idea. It doesn't exactly involve a pun, but it's ironic as fuck anyway.""Irony is better than puns, sure." Cherie sat forward expectantly. "Hit me."Taylor's grin was so sharp-edged that the average ravenous school of piranha would've backed away nervously. "Well, I'm going to have to talk to Riley, but I'm fairly sure she'll be okay with it …"
<><>
Brockton Bay Betterment Committee OfficesFaultlineAs the elevator doors opened, Melanie stepped out into the corridor and turned to the right. "Down this way. Chairman's office.""Is it just me," asked Newter, "or does anyone else find it weird that we get to be interviewed by the head honcho of the whole show? I mean, wouldn't he be busy?"Gregor shrugged massively. For the occasion, he was wearing an ironed shirt and a tie. "He doesn't seem to think he's too busy to talk to us.""What do you know of him, Melanie?" asked Elle. "From what I recall, you had your finger on the pulse all the time.""Hebert?" Melanie frowned. "He had serious influence in the Dockworkers, and they never had any corruption scandals that I heard of." That could just mean that he was gifted at concealing such misdeeds, she knew, but she strongly suspected Atropos wouldn't have permitted a grifter into the top spot of the committee tasked with disbursing her bounty funds.They paused before the dread portal, then Melanie steeled herself and rapped on the door: one, two-three. It wasn't like her to be nervous about meeting a non-cape about a job, but this was a guy who almost certainly had Atropos' ear, and who routinely handled sums that made her Crew's takings at the top of their game look like chicken feed. She considered herself incorruptible; Hebert, from all indications,
lived
it."Come in," she heard from inside, and she opened the door. Within was a desk with four chairs set out before it: behind the desk, a mild-featured bespectacled man, tall and skinny, just rising to his feet. "Good afternoon," he said. "I'm Danny Hebert.""Thank you for seeing us." Melanie entered the office, the others trooping after her. "I'm Melanie Fitts, but I assume you knew that already.""I did, yes." He stepped around the desk and offered his hand. Interestingly enough, he was wearing a glove on that hand only. "Pleased to meet you. Feel free to sit.""Thank you," she replied, shaking his hand then taking one of the two chairs in the middle. Elle shook his hand and sat next to her, then Gregor and Newter shook it as well, then sat flanking them. "If you don't mind me asking, you're surely a busy man. Why do we get your personal attention?""And what if we'd come to kill you instead of join up?" added Newter before she could stop him. "I mean, you just invited us into your office."Melanie froze, mentally promising the worst punishment detail she could think of for Newter if he'd just queered the whole deal for them. The glare she gave him must have made some sort of impression, because he shrank back into his seat. When she looked back at Hebert, he was sitting down without even a flinch, for which she gave him major props."To answer Newter's question first: if you'd come to kill me, Atropos would be meeting you in this office, not me." He smiled thinly as he peeled the glove off with care. "She has a sixth sense about things like that. And as for your query, Ms Fitts, I've got more experience with capes than the vast majority of our personnel. You've got more to offer the Committee in terms of sheer capability, so I prefer to meet you personally and see where you'd fit in rather than rely on dry reports."This cut a little too closely to things Melanie had heard from prior employers, and she felt duty-bound to speak up. "I trust you understand, Mr Hebert, that we are more than just our powers.""Oh, I'm aware. You, for instance, have a stellar track record for taking people from disparate backgrounds and bringing out the best in them. As such, I'll be giving you a probationary period as a leading hand. If you prove yourself there, you'll be stepping up into the next available foreman slot. Newter, per Atropos' recommendation, I'd like you to work with the on-site medical teams if and when needed. The training you've already taken in advanced first aid would be useful if you accepted that position. Gregor, you'll be eligible for special safety officer pay if you want it: firefighting duties, wound mitigation and so forth."Silence fell in the office, as he sat with his hands lightly clasped over a manila envelope. Melanie was more than a little stunned; she'd been fully expecting to be relegated to the position of grunt, where she'd have to fight and shove for what she wanted. To be recognised from the outset for what she could do, and be given the chance to show it, was far more than she'd dared hope for."And what about me?" asked Elle. "I mean, I know I'm not a cape anymore, but I guess I can still drive a machine or something.""You could," Hebert agreed. "However, I've been informed by Atropos that your powers have left you with a particular aptitude toward visualising things in three dimensions. If you're interested, we can second you to the reconstruction division, while paying for you to attend a college course for urban planning.""Wait—paying
for?" blurted Newter. "You'd
pay for her college course?" To his credit, he sounded incredulous, not jealous."Well, yes." Hebert opened the manila envelope. "There are funds in the budget for educational purposes such as this. The last thing we want to do is pay you, then take your money away from you again so that you're struggling to make ends meet while trying to become more effective in your job. That's self-defeating. And talking about money …" Tilting the envelope, he allowed four smaller envelopes to fall out onto the desk. "These would be yours."Melanie saw the faces and names printed on the smaller envelopes as Hebert stood up and leaned forward to pass them over to her. She accepted them, and passed them out, then opened hers to find a card with her name embossed on it. "Hold on a second. Are these …" She'd heard about the stimulus cards from the contacts she still maintained in Brockton Bay. What she
hadn't
expected was to have one handed to her."Yes, they are. You'll be prompted for a PIN on the first use. Your pay will go into the account as well. And yes, your associates are in the system as of today."Gregor shook his head in apparent disbelief. "You are banking a lot on us accepting your terms. Is all this contingent on us working for you?""Only the college course," Hebert said imperturbably. "The stimulus cards are yours no matter what. If you have any queries or second-guesses about working for the Committee, I'm here to address them."Newter looked at Melanie and Gregor and Elle, then huffed a sigh. "Okay, I'll say it. Me and Gregor are kinda funny-looking. How are people going to take that?""Hmm." Hebert frowned theatrically. "You raise a good point. Let me get a second opinion." He pressed a button on his intercom. "Winston, can you come to my office, please? I'd like to ask you something.""Yes, Mr Hebert."Melanie had no idea what was going on at that point, save for a vague suspicion that Hebert was pulling some kind of stunt. What it was, she couldn't imagine, but he seemed content to simply sit there at his desk until Winston arrived. With glances to either side, she communicated to her Crew that it would be best to wait and see what was going on.Moments later, the office door opened. Melanie half-turned her head to glance at the newcomer, then did a double-take that nearly sprained her neck when a gleaming metal humanoid figure entered the room and moved past them to stand beside the desk.It had two legs, two arms, and something that passed for a head, on which groups of red and green LEDs seemed to indicate its left and right eyes. In no other way did it look remotely human. There was also a nametag, apparently magnetically attached to the front of its torso, which read, 'Hi, I'm W1NST0N. How can I help you today?'"Everyone, this is Winston," Hebert said breezily. "Winston, these are our newest potential recruits. Can you see any problem with them working for us?""Hmmm." The robot calling itself W1nst0n tilted its head, its LED-eyes altering their pattern of illumination so that they seemed to narrow thoughtfully. Its voice was metallic, though there were still tonal variations. "The orange guy might need protection for his tail, and we might not have many high-vis vests in the big guy's size. Need to check on that one. Can't see any other problems.""Thank you, Winston. That's all I needed.""Not a problem, boss." The metallic humanoid nodded to Melanie and the others. "Welcome to the Committee. Best damn job I ever had." Then it turned and exited the office, as smoothly as it had come.Melanie blinked as the door clicked shut behind it. "That … that was an Eagleton. I'd heard about them, but …" But being in the same room as one was far different to just seeing pictures.Hebert nodded, as though he'd read her thoughts clear out of her head. "We already have a significant cape contingent, as well as Winston and the other Eagletons.
Nobody
is going to treat you differently just because you have a different skin colour or body plan. That shit, excuse my French, left town with the Empire Eighty-Eight. On the jobsite, you'll be just another Committee worker."That was as good an answer as Melanie figured they'd get. "I see. So, what are the working conditions like? Sick leave, time off, et cetera?"Hebert smiled. "I thought you'd never ask." Opening a desk drawer, he pulled out four forms. "Read them over. I believe you will find the working conditions to be adequate."As she accepted them and handed them out, Melanie belatedly recalled that Hebert had
also
been the union rep for the Dockworkers' Association.'Adequate', she suspected, would be an understatement.
<><>
SleeperI rest.It is easy to rest. Rest is sleep. Sleep is stillness. Stillness is no noise.No noise is best. Except own noise. Sometimes I speak, just to hear own voice.No other voices. They do not exist. Just own voice.Bubble is not trap. Bubble is restful. Sometimes head hurts and bright light stings eyes. No bright lights in bubble. I tell myself bubble is whole world. There is nothing outside bubble. Just me, inside.Sometimes I remember why head hurts, and sometimes I do not. Fragments in brain, play tunes like dead fingers on broken piano.Rest is broken by noise from outside-that-should-not-be. Before I shut noise away, voices that do not exist say two words.I try to rest. Brain twitches. I forget disturbance, words.I sleep.I drift. I have forgotten noise. I have forgotten that there were words. It never happened. How could it? The entire world is here inside bubble with me. There is nothing outside but ghosts.A long dream later, I wake. I want to hear voice, so I find book. I have read it, but dead fingers have played over the memory of the story, so I begin reading out loud to myself.Halfway through the book, my brain twitches. Vision doubles, I see fragments of the ghost world outside. Pain spikes head like just before I got powers, when I was shot.Outside of head is healed. Inside will never be.I remember words. Two words. I say words in my voice, so they will become my words. "Simurgh. Dead."Simurgh. Dead.I know Simurgh.I know dead.Simurgh was in world I knew before powers, before bubble. Powerful, dangerous.Many times, Simurgh attack, kill. Others, in time before bubble, attack Simurgh. Always lives.Now dead.Simurgh dead.I think on that until brain twitches and I forget.I read book, speaking words carefully. Story is good. It speaks of world that is not. Many strange words about many strange things.I have almost finished book when brain twitches again. Words come back to me. Simurgh dead.I know bubble is prison, is trap. I know is because I kill, like Simurgh.In the ghost world outside bubble, Simurgh is dead.Simurgh was killed.Are others dead? Endbringers dead?Are ghost worlders killing things like Simurgh?Like me?Am I next?I wake up, more than before. I have been good. I have not burst bubble.I remember, shot in head, falling. Bullet fragments in brain. Lying on icy pavement. Thoughts leaking from hole in head. Powers coming in to plug gap.Will ghost worlders come, to shoot me in head? Make
me
dead?I do not want that.Power does twisty thing to space, but cannot hide me. Still in bubble. Still in prison. Still in trap.Far away, I hear/smell/see it. Powers tell me. Hole. Escape from ghost world. Another world, all mine.Must leave bubble. Must go into ghost world.I do not want to.I want to rest.To sleep.But I cannot.So I flex powers, just a little. Push against bubble. Stretch against trap.Alarms loud, noisy, make head hurt.I stretch powers more, shut off alarms.Bubble breaks.I am no longer only thing in world.Bigger world now, and I am very small in it.I become power and move toward hole.Very far away. Cannot move fast. Still better than walking.Moving this way tires me.Will need rest.Bright light of outside hurts eyes.Noises hurt head.Must go on.Not safe.Nowhere is safe until I reach hole.I go on.
<><>
Aisha"Hey, bro?""Yeah, Aish?""This math thing, how's it go again?""Let me have a look." Brian left the saucepan he'd been stirring and came into the dining area where Aisha was working out some problems from her math book. When he saw what she was doing, he frowned slightly. "I thought you had your homework done.""I did. I do. I'm just looking ahead a bit, to make sure I know the new stuff before they show us how to do it." The way she saw it, getting a leg-up on the opposition was always a good idea."Huh." He patted her on the shoulder. "That's really forward-thinking of you. I'm proud of you.""Yeah, well, now I actually know how to do this shit, might as well get good at it." She tried not to show the warmth she felt in her chest at his praise. He and Riley were the only close family she had—she just couldn't connect with her dad, and Celia wasn't even remotely her mother—and getting his approval like that meant more to her than she'd expected it would. "So, how's this bit work? How do they get that answer?""One sec. Hey, Riley?""Yeah?" called their youngest sibling from the bedroom."If you're not busy, could you check the saucepan and give it a stir, please?""I'll be right there." And she would be. Riley was dependable like that."Okay," Brian said. "Let's see what we've got here." He focused on the book, then nodded and tapped the page with his finger. "See that? That number carries there, then adds to that."That little click behind her eyes when the light came on and she understood something for the first time would never get old for her. "Right, so if I do this …" She scribbled some numbers, then ran it through the process he'd described. "It should come out like this?""Yup, that looks about right." He squeezed her shoulder. "You're getting good at this.""Damn right I am." She felt that glow of pride again. This was something she could get used to.In the kitchen, Riley's phone chirped. A moment later, she leaned around the dividing pillar. "Uh, Brian, when you've got a moment?""Aisha?" he asked."Go. I got this." Aisha reapplied herself to the problem.
Okay, so if I take
that, and do
this, it should turn out like … hah! Gotcha, you slippery little bastard!"So, what's up?" she heard Brian asking."Atropos just texted me," Riley replied, and with that Aisha decided she had better things to think about than math."Ookay." Brian didn't sound totally enthusiastic, but he was only a little bit wary. "What did she want?""To talk to me about making a new thing for her."Brian sighed, then nodded. "Alright, let her know it's fine. Let's see what she wants."Aisha figured that she knew Atropos better than most, so the very moment Brian said that, she started looking around. The smoky doorway appeared right on cue and Atropos stepped out of it, just out of Brian's line of sight. As Aisha's grin broadened, Atropos lifted one finger in front of where her lips would be. She hadn't needed to; there was no way Aisha was going to miss this.Waiting until Brian turned his head slightly, Atropos stepped up behind him. "Hi.""Jeez!" yelped Brian, jumping about three feet sideways. "Do you
have
to do that?"Atropos gestured to where Aisha was in danger of falling off her chair, and Riley was suffering a fit of the giggles. "According to them, yes." Then she cleared her throat. "Thanks for saying yes. I do appreciate it."By the time Atropos and Riley came back into the living room, Aisha had more or less recovered from her laughter. She got up and went over to give Atropos a hug, which was returned with interest. "Hey," she said. "Good to see you again.""Great to see you too." Atropos let her go and ruffled her hair. "I hope you've been behaving?""Well,
mostly." Aisha didn't want to get a rep for being a goody two-shoes, after all.The front door clicked open, and Riley looked around. "Theo's home!" By the time the door opened all the way, Riley had made it across the living room to give him a hug."Oof," he said, good-naturedly. "Hi, Riley." Then he looked up and clearly saw Atropos for the first time. "Oh, um, were you waiting for me?""No, just here to see Riley, but how are you doing anyway?"Theo chuckled. "Pretty good, actually. It's amazing how useful some weapons can be on a demolition site. They really put me through my paces, though. I hurt in places I didn't know I could hurt." Despite his worn-down appearance, he seemed fairly upbeat."Good to hear," she said warmly. "So, Riley. Got another favour to ask."Riley nodded. "Totally.""Ah … you haven't even heard it yet." Atropos patted the air between them. "You might not want to, and that'll be fine if you don't.""Fair enough. Tell me what it is."So Atropos started talking.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
■
PRIVATE MESSAGETo:
PanaceaFrom:
AtroposSubject:
Gonna need you in about half an hour
Could you please be alone in your bedroom in about half an hour? Bring the leg of ham that's going to get delivered to your front door in five minutes. You'll need it for biomass.
■
PRIVATE MESSAGETo:
AtroposFrom:
PanaceaSubject:
Re: Gonna need you in about half an hour
What? Why? Who have you hurt?
■
PRIVATE MESSAGETo:
PanaceaFrom:
AtroposSubject:
Re: Re: Gonna need you in about half an hour
Nobody. You'll see. Also, prep for a mess.
■
<><>
Monday Afternoon, March 14 2011New York PRT Building,
Shebang
Alice stood on the roof of the building alongside Director Piggot. Accompanying them was a Trooper Ballinger, whose main reason for being there was apparently the fact that he was over six feet tall and built like the proverbial brick outhouse. Alice had a lot of equipment to take along with her, and it seemed he'd been tapped as her pack-horse for the time being.
She didn't actually have a problem with this. One of the downsides of being a Tinker, as far as she could figure, was the sheer amount of
equipment
she had to lug around with her if she was trying to analyse and defuse esoteric energies. With regards to Clockblocker (she still had trouble believing it wasn't the name of some joke character on a cartoon show), he'd been able to come to her, but this wasn't possible for the next stage of the project, so she and her equipment had to leave the lab. Thus, Ballinger.
One of the hidden advantages of being in the Protectorate, she was discovering, was the number of minions (read: PRT troopers) available to fetch and carry for them, if necessary. Trooper Ballinger didn't seem to have a problem with it either, especially since all indications were that the job would not involve going up against hostile capes. Alice certainly didn't intend to go into harm's way any time soon, at least until she had a better handle on her capabilities.
The helicopter coming in from the north slowed as it neared the building, then flared preparatory to landing. It didn't look big enough to comfortably carry Alice and her luggage as well as the Director and Ballinger, but appearances had been known to be deceiving. Though why the Director might have called in a chopper from out of town, Alice wasn't sure.
Its wheels touched down, then it sank onto its suspension as the engines began to spool down and the rotors slowed. The side door popped open and a red-clad cape stepped out, followed by a familiar teenage figure. After Clockblocker came a tall black man in a stylised martial-arts outfit, then finally a kid in a pastel-hued pseudo-military costume, complete with scaled-down military-style helmet. Alice frowned; she wasn't sure who she'd been expecting, but it wasn't this.
"Director Piggot," the cape in red said with a broad grin. "Good to see you again. How's life treating you in the Big Apple?"
"I'm getting by, Assault, thank you very much." Piggot even gave the man a brief smile as she replied. "Tenebrae, Miss Medic, this is Shebang. Shebang: Assault, Tenebrae, Miss Medic."
"Hi!" gushed the girl who had to be Miss Medic. "You're gonna be turning off Grey Boy loops? That's so cool!"
"Well, we're going to be working at it," Alice corrected her, though the enthusiasm was infectious. "Don't know if we'll make it on the first try." She turned her head and addressed Director Piggot. "I'm sorry, but I don't understand. What exactly is going on here? I thought this was only a test run."
"It is." Director Piggot seemed unfazed by her query. "Assault is the Protectorate volunteer to escort the Wards on this mission. Tenebrae is Miss Medic's caregiver; it's in her Wards contract that he escorts her on any missions like this. Clockblocker is along in case you manage to actually free the subject today; his job will be to freeze the freed subject so Miss Medic can get a good look at them and diagnose what needs to be fixed. Miss Medic is along to save anyone whose life needs saving."
"Oh, so
that's
what I'm here for," Clockblocker said in tones of enlightenment. "I got told I was needed again, and I was like 'didn't she already figure out how to break my power?'."
Alice ignored the interjection. "But what if I don't bust the loop this time? They'll have come all this way for nothing."
And I'll look like an idiot in front of them,
she didn't quite say out loud.
"Not for nothing." Assault raised his finger. "When you're designing new and exciting ways to blow up the scenery, you've got fire extinguishers and stuff standing by, right? Just in case?"
"Usually, yeah," she admitted. "But what … oh." Belatedly, she realised what he was getting at.
"Yeah. 'Oh.'" He clicked his tongue as he 'fired' dual finger-guns at her. "Better to have the people on hand and not need them than not have them and need them. Besides, getting the Wards out and about every now and again gives them a sense of purpose and reduces disciplinary problems." From the flat, uninflected tone he put on, Alice got the impression that he was either quoting or paraphrasing from a manual of regulations.
"Not that Miss Medic has any ongoing disciplinary issues," Tenebrae noted.
Assault nodded. "You're not wrong there. Kid's about as buttoned-down as you can get."
"I'm glad to hear it." Gathering the capes in by eye, Director Piggot herded them toward the second helipad, while Trooper Ballinger followed along behind with the cases full of Alice's equipment. "Strider will be arriving shortly, to convey you to the Grey Boy victim we believe will be the best test case for Shebang's attentions. I won't be coming along, so Assault will be in command of this mission. I look forward to your after-action reports."
"And that's … it?" Alice flinched as the flat
crack
heralded the appearance of the teleporter on the helipad. "We're just going to go and do it?"
"Would you prefer six months of paperwork back and forth before we decided to go ahead?" Piggot's tone was both rhetorical and sarcastic. "Go. Shoo. Make me proud."
<><>
Atropos
Cherie watched as I pulled on a protective nitrile glove, then put one of my spare set of Atropos gloves on over the top of them. "That's a level of protection you don't normally take, even when you're handling the stuff Riley made to kill powers with," she observed. "Should I be worried?"
"Not particularly." I flexed my fingers inside the double layered glove and decided it would do. "This latest concoction I got her to throw together is nastier than the other stuff, and I'll have exactly zero room for error. My power says I
need
the glove."
"Nastier?" Cherie didn't sound thrilled to hear that. "How the hell is it
worse
than the other stuff?"
"Because it
doesn't
kill your powers." I grinned at her look of incomprehension. "Tell you later."
Leaving the shears and the pistol on the sofa—I wasn't going to need them—I set up the next few jumps. They were going to take pinpoint timing, but that was fine; my power was good at pinpoint timing. The
not
so fine aspect was what I was about to put myself through.
The things I do to maintain my brand.
Finally, I pulled on my mask and put the hat on at a jaunty angle. I knew damn well Cherie could read what bits and pieces of emotion I let slip through, but I wasn't giving her enough to realise what I was about to do.
Touching two fingers to the brim of my hat, I stepped backward into the smoky doorway as it formed behind me. The living room vanished, replaced by a scrubby hillside overlooking farmland.
Abandoned
farmland no doubt, entirely due to the imminent arrival of Sleeper, but farmland all the same.
It was colder than Brockton Bay here, more so than could be accounted for by the fact that it was four or five degrees farther north. A chilly wind swept across the hillside, blowing my long-coat dramatically sideways as I looked westward toward the oncoming storm generated by Sleeper. It was hard to focus on, mainly because part of the visual effect was generated within the optic nerve without first going through the retina, which was just one of the little tricks his power liked to inflict on the world.
Right then, the ongoing violation of space-time manifesting in our limited three-dimensional perception as a 'storm' was five miles across, and he had no physical body inside it. It was his fastest mode of movement, maybe two hundred miles per hour, but it also tired him. It wasn't long before he'd have to let his real body regain its form, and he'd stop to rest.
This would be my cue to go say hi.
In the meantime, I had a note to treat with Riley's newest concoction. I couldn't just put the stuff on it that killed powers … well, I
could, but his powers were literally keeping him alive. Without them to keep his bullet-lacerated brainmeats in a (mostly) workable state, he would go into seizures within a few seconds, be in a coma in twenty, and be dead in five minutes.
I'd thought about bringing in Riley or Amy to fix his brain injury, but neither one was an option if he had to be forcibly depowered first. Amy was still emotionally fragile; fixing a brain injury was one thing, but doing it for a mass murderer whose vital signs were crashing hard at the same time might be a bit much for her. While Riley would likely be willing to take it on, the window of opportunity was too narrow. By the time she got to where she could start fixing stuff, a lot of what was
him
would be irretrievably gone.
It was true that killing Sleeper (accidentally or otherwise) would absolutely cement my rep as Can Actually Kill Anything (Yes, Really; Watch Me), but I didn't
want
to End him without actually giving him a chance to turn things around first. The act of killing still didn't bother me; I was just as pragmatic about it as I had been since getting my powers. However, Dragon had made a good point about not only
being
reliable, but having the
appearance
of reliability.
There were quite a few national powers currently observing Sleeper's progress, most of whom had spotted me already. If I just went in there and ganked him (in Cherie's inimitable phrasing) while they were watching, it would be a data point for them, but in the wrong direction.
It wouldn't matter that Sleeper was someone they all wanted dead anyway. If I was seen apparently violating my self-imposed strictures, someone would inevitably take it as evidence that I'd been paid a bounty under the table to do it, and the understanding I'd carefully crafted with the international community would take a huge step backward.
Very shortly afterward, I'd get a diplomatically worded offer of a few hundred million to arrange the End of someone like Moord Nag. The money might vary; so, too, might the target. But they'd start with large amounts, pointing me at people who were very much a negative influence on society. Bit by bit, the amounts would decrease, ramping up only when they wanted me to kill someone who wasn't all
that
bad, but who was a hindrance to their plans.
Well, this was the meat of at least one proposal that had been laid out by a governmental body based less than five hundred miles from Brockton Bay. Human nature being what it was, there were others of a similar nature being fostered farther afield.
Yeah, good luck with that.
I couldn't force people to stop being assholes, but I could absolutely refuse to fall in line with their designs for me.
So long as they indulged in no more than wishful thinking, I was happy to let them waste their time and effort trying to figure out how to move the first step out of the planning stage. The moment any of them tried to actually
do
something about it, I would be paying them a visit and bringing my good friend Mr Pump Action Shotgun along to air his opinions about Kneecaps and Privileges.
But it wasn't going to happen today, or any day soon. Sleeper
was
going to survive the next twenty-four hours, because the concoction I was applying to the note wouldn't take effect until then, if at all.
Of course, me just delivering the note and surviving would
also
add to my ongoing legend, so there was that.
It was still going to suck, though.
The eye-twisting storm slowed its onward advance when its leading edge was barely five yards from me, as my power had calculated. I finished brushing the liquid onto the note, then put the cap back on the container and folded my hand around the note. This was why I had needed the extra glove; my regular one wouldn't protect my hand well enough, and I had to maintain a hold on it for reasons which would soon become evident.
I moved toward the edge of the storm with measured steps; between one step and the next, the first teleport kicked in. As it did so, I let myself fall forward, appearing in a rocky niche with the storm swirling and raging just outside. My coat lost a chunk out of one corner as the twisting matter alteration caught it, but that was okay; it wasn't the one I usually wore.
Pressing into the niche, I watched as the distorted air followed me in. Sleeper wasn't fully aware of everything that happened within his sphere of influence, but the 'brain' aspect of his powers knew I was there. God only knew how he would've been if he were fully compos mentis, but for the most part it acted like a massive immune system, locating and either destroying or neutralising any potential threat from the outside.
This was why the note was clenched tightly in my fist rather than in my pocket. To put it brutally, my pockets just weren't going to survive. As part of my sleeve fizzed and sparkled, I was fully aware that anything I wasn't personally hanging on to was likely to suffer an inevitable end. This was already too close for comfort, and it was only going to get worse.
At the ten-second mark, the teleporter kicked in again, depositing me in a barn which was in the process of being enthusiastically demolished by the reality storm. I grabbed an already-teetering stack of hay bales and pulled them over on top of me; they were heavy, but not so much that it was a chore to keep breathing. My mask managed to filter out the worst of the heavy dust swirling around in my tiny refuge, which was good, because I needed to get a nice deep breath of air.
I could feel the mental aspect of Sleeper's power zeroing in on me again, and the gradual lightening of the hay-bale burden above me. The hay didn't make for a very sturdy barrier, but it was bulky, so it lasted exactly long enough. I felt my left boot-heel go just as the teleporter pulled me out of there once more. A spark of pain told me that I'd lost part of my actual heel at the same time.
The rear part of my hat-brim, the back of my long-coat, and some of the skin off my back, flashed to nothingness as I appeared inches above the surface of a stream. I fell, and was submerged, before anything more could happen; the water was absoutely freezing, numbing the open wound on my back. Above all, I kept my fist clenched around that damn note.
Above me, Sleeper's power lashed at the water itself, exploding great swathes of it into steam; fortunately, I was being swept downstream before it could get to me. It felt as though icy daggers were slashing at the intact parts of my skin, but it was only the cold, not more of his power.
Not yet, anyway. I drew my knees up to my chest just as another part of my long-coat was caught and evaporated; before the rest of me could be likewise shredded, I teleported.
The next refuge my power found me was a hollowed out cut-bank, possibly the lair of an animal that had fled before the advent of Sleeper's power scouring the land. It lasted me the ten seconds, though I lost two fingers off my left hand, and some of the wrist. I was committed now; there was only one way out, and it wasn't the way I'd come in by.
Jump by jump, skip by skip, losing a chunk of my forearm muscle here and three toes there, I made my way through the maelstrom toward Sleeper. It was impossible for my power to find me a refuge that didn't brush me up against his ravening ability, but it was able to keep me alive and moving, so that was the best I could get.
Pain lashed through me from my mounting catalogue of injuries. If it weren't for my power, I wouldn't have been able to go on, but I was determined to get the note to Sleeper, no matter what it took. That was my sole focus.
Finally, I ended up at the small farmhouse he'd decided was a good place to rest. Sitting at the table, reading aloud to himself from a remarkably tattered and dog-eared book, he looked up in surprise as I appeared before him, bloody and wounded, with tatters of my costume hanging off me. My left leg wasn't working so good since most of the calf muscle had been torn away, but I was standing on it anyway. "Hi," I gritted in what I guessed was fluent Russian, as I slapped the slightly worse-for-wear folded note onto the pages in front of him with my one good hand. "You've just been served."
Before he could muster his powers to obliterate me from existence, the teleporter generated its smoky doorway behind me, and I lurched backward through it. It was so close that I'd had to time the portal to shut off before I was all the way through. In doing so, it took my right arm clear off just below the shoulder, and my right leg at the knee. Given that the alternative was to have his power billow through and destroy everything within three city blocks, I figured I got off lightly.
But my power could only keep me upright and moving for so long, and I was rapidly running out of gas. This was why my last teleport sent me to the best place I could go for help.
As I toppled toward the carefully-placed plastic sheet—good thinking, Amy, way to go—I saw not one but
two
shocked expressions looking my way.
Oh, boy.
<><>
Panacea
Half an hour had been just enough time for Amy to accept the leg of ham from the delivery guy and sneak it upstairs to her room, then grab the spare shower curtain from the storage closet and spread it over her carpet. If Atropos wanted her to prep for a mess, then she was absolutely going to prep for a mess. As the last five minutes ticked down, she was still trying to figure out what was going on, with little success.
And then Vicky opened her door and leaned in. "Hey, Ames, I was … uh, why do you have a leg of ham on your bed? And why is there a shower curtain on your floor?"
"Sh-sh-sh-sh!" Amy hissed urgently. "Come in! Shut the door!" Vicky, she could trust to keep a secret. Everyone else was likely to either ask awkward questions like 'why did you just do what she said?' and 'why didn't you come tell us?' or just yell at her.
Obediently, Vicky entered the room and closed the door carefully behind her. "I'm going to assume this isn't a Parian thing," she said, hitching one eyebrow slightly. "So, my second guess is … Atropos."
"Yeah." Amy nodded jerkily, keeping a watch on the plastic out of the corner of her eye. "She messaged me half an hour ago, asked me to be in here with biomass. Said to prep for a mess."
"Shit." Vicky breathed the word. "Shit, shit, fuck. Did she say who was going to need it?"
Amy's throat was tight with worry. "I asked her who she'd hurt. She said nobody, and that I'd see."
"Doesn't mean she hasn't hurt someone since," Vicky pointed out pragmatically. "Do you, uh, do you do this sort of thing often? Just do something because she asked you to?"
"Not often." Amy decided to amend the statement toward the truth. "We've done it a bit. But always to do something good. Even if I didn't know it was good at the time." She found herself digging her nails into her palm.
"When did she say she'd be here?"
"Half an—oh, shit!" Amy jerked to her feet as a familiar smoky doorway appeared at the far end of the plastic shower curtain.
Atropos
fell
out of it, lunging her left arm outward as the portal closed behind her. When they'd gone to help out Damsel of Distress, Amy had been warned not to linger, and now she saw why. In closing, the portal had sheared off Atropos' right arm and part of her leg, and that wasn't the full extent of her injuries by a long way.
Collapsing in a way that suggested consciousness was rapidly fading, Atropos didn't quite hit the floor before Vicky was there, catching her and lowering her to the plastic. "Holy fuck, what happened to her?" Vicky asked, staring at the tattered costume, with large pieces just sheared away, along with the flesh under it.
"Slee … per," rasped Atropos. "Good t'see you too." One expressive brown eye, visible due to the fact that part of the morph mask was missing, along with a slice of her cheekbone, turned to look at her, then drifted shut as Atropos went limp.
Jesus, she went after Sleeper?
Amy didn't know whether to be horrified or impressed. By now, she was on her knees next to Atropos, pulling aside shreds of cloth to get skin to skin contact. There had been no deep injuries to the torso, but more than a bit of missing flesh, and two major amputations.
Once Amy got control over her body, she was able to bring the bleeding to a halt, though the amount Atropos had already lost was worrying. To make more, she was going to need fluids. "Vicky, go to the kitchen and get me the biggest pitcher of water you can. Do
not
tell Mom or Dad, please." They'd either freak or do something stupid, or both.
"On it." The door opened and closed, and Vicky was gone.
It was weird, Amy mused even as she hefted the leg of ham down off the bed and started looking at where Atropos was missing bits and pieces. When Vicky had first met Atropos, she would've spat in her face rather than help her. Now, she didn't
like
the murderous vigilante, but she had enough respect for Atropos to help her out without even complaining.
For her part, Amy was more shaken than she was willing to admit, even to herself. She'd seen footage of Atropos strolling into insanely dangerous situations before now, and barrelling out the other side without a mark on her. This time around, she looked like she'd gone ten rounds with a combine harvester, though her
attitude
suggested that she'd somehow won.
Okay, priorities. Arm and leg first, then the more superficial stuff.
And once Atropos was awake again, she and Vicky would be able to interrogate her for every last detail of why she'd gone after Sleeper. Because there was surely a story there.
And after giving her a fright like this, Atropos totally owed her.
<><>
Sleeper
I have stopped travelling. Tired.
Must rest.
Am resting, reading, when ghost person from outside appears.
I hear voice that is not my voice. Ghost person says words that are not my words.
"Привет," says ghost person. "Вам предписание."
There is paper in my hand. It is ghost person paper.
I know is ghost person because does not come in front door, just appears.
Also, disappears through doorway that is not doorway.
After ghost person vanishes, I look at paper. Is folded. Is note.
Do I read ghost person note?
I prefer to read book. Book is familiar.
Ghost person note sits on table. I want to destroy it.
But I pick it up.
It is long time since I read something that was not book.
I unfold ghost person note.
It has been wet, and scorched, but writing is big and thick. Can read.
Я АТРОПОС.
Я УБИЛА СИМУРГ.
ЕСЛИ ТЫ ПРОДОЛЖИШЬ ИДТИ К ДЫРЕ МЕЖДУ МИРАМИ, Я УБЬЮ ТЕБЯ.
Я МОГУ ТЕБЯ ОТПРАВИТЬ В ДРУГОЕ МЕСТО.
ПОДОЖДИ ЗДЕСЬ ОДИН ПОЛНЫЙ ДЕНЬ ПОДАВЛЯЯ СВОЮ СИЛУ,
И Я ОТКРОЮ ДЛЯ ТЕБЯ ЕЩЕ ОДНУ
ДЫРУ МЕЖДУ МИРАМИ.
ЕСЛИ ТЫ ХОЧЕШЬ, Я МОГУ ПРИВЕСТИ КОГО-ТО, КТО ВМЕСТО ЭТОГО ОТКЛЮЧИТ ТВОИ СИЛЫ И ПОЧИНИТ ТВОЙ МОЗГ.
Я ВЕРНУСЬ ЗА ТВОИМ ОТВЕТОМ ЧЕРЕЗ ОДИН ДЕНЬ.
When finished reading, I sit and think about ghost person words.
I am Atropos.
I killed the Simurgh.
If you keep going toward the hole between worlds, I will kill you.
I can send you somewhere else. Wait here one full day and suppress your powers, and I will open another hole between worlds for you.
If you want, I can bring someone to turn off your powers and fix your brain instead.
I will be back in one day for your reply.
When sun rises, still thinking.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
Glory GirlWhen Vicky got to the bottom of the stairs, her parents were sitting on the sofa watching TV, though her mother was also doing something on a tablet. Carol Dallon had always been a hard-charger, maintaining a career in law at the same time as being a full-time superhero
and
a mother of two. Something had had to give, and Vicky suspected that motherhood had been left sucking hind tit.The end result had been a successful superhero career, a place in a prestigious law firm, and one daughter who vaguely resented her. This was not improved by Carol's black-and-white view of the world, which Vicky had subscribed to without even thinking about it … at least, until certain events had caused her to undergo a massive reality check. That, along with other recent incidents, had shaken up her personal worldview and caused her to rethink a lot of her prior assumptions.This was why she'd been less surprised by Amy's intention of going rogue at the first viable opportunity than she was by the fact that Amy had
told Carol to her face
about her plans, as well as a lot of other stuff that had been bothering her. Apparently, during the telling, their mom had polished off one of the bottles of wine Atropos had given her and made a severe dent in the second one. However, she
hadn't
yelled at Amy, grounded her, or done anything apart from drink and listen.While Vicky didn't
dislike
her mother, even after the shakeup to her worldview, she figured Amy was at least partially justified in being unhappy with Carol. Amy wasn't Vicky, she wasn't like Vicky, she didn't think like Vicky, and she'd never really wanted to be a superhero like Vicky. As far as Vicky could tell, Carol had wanted Amy to be a good little hero (using Vicky as a role model, naturally) but to
also
stay in her own little box and heal people when and where she was told, without any regard for what
Amy
might want.The real irony in the situation was that until Atropos had come along and kicked over the anthill that had then been the villain-rich Brockton Bay underworld (and was now more of a ghost town), Amy had also shared Carol's binary worldview. These days, she was a good deal more free-thinking in her attitudes, gleefully encouraged in such by Atropos. Vicky didn't know what role in this was played by Atropos' occasional 'borrowing' of Amy for shady purposes in dubious locations, but she figured there was at least a little cross-pollination of viewpoints going on.But the bottom line was simple: Amy was happier these days, and not just because she had a girlfriend. (Though Vicky thought she might have to book herself an eye test, what with all the hints she'd missed about her sister's orientation). Amy was more relaxed, opening up more, and although Atropos' shenanigans still seemed to exasperate her, she'd lost the edge of simmering anger that Vicky hadn't noticed until it was gone.The most profound change, however, was the one that Vicky had discovered within herself. As she'd said to Crystal, the lessons Atropos had taught her had convinced her to rethink her previously reckless attitude and become the 'responsible' one of the younger set. But that wasn't even the half of it.In the first days following Atropos' debut, especially in the (admittedly narrow) window between the meeting in Westlake Park and the demise of the Slaughterhouse Nine, had Vicky encountered Atropos in any kind of vulnerable position, she wouldn't have hesitated to take full advantage of the situation. There would've been exactly zero second thoughts involved between seeing the black-clad cape and going into attack mode. But in the encounters since, each subsequent interaction had chipped away at her antagonism toward Atropos. Now, seeing the girl unconscious, bleeding and
missing important body parts
on Amy's bedroom floor, Vicky's only thought had been 'how can I help?'.As she made her way nonchalantly to the kitchen, Vicky kept in mind that her mother quite likely didn't share her level of acceptance of Atropos. If she discovered what was going on, Brandish might just do something extreme. Or she might not; Vicky preferred not to find out either way.Trying to make as little noise as possible, she found a nicely sized pitcher and took it to the sink to fill with water. She was halfway through this task when her father strolled into the kitchen. "Oh, hi, Vicky girl," he said. "I didn't know you were downstairs. What's the pitcher for?"Her brain went blank. "Oh, uh, Ames asked me to get it.""Really? What for?"Shit. Shit, shit, shit.
"Pot … plants. She wants to water her potted plants."
Wait, wait.
"Plants
in
pots. Not actual
pot.
Amy wouldn't do something like
that." She forced a nervous laugh.
Shut up now. Just shut up.He frowned. "Amy has potted plants? When did that happen?"Vicky fell back on the truth. "Well, she's got a plant pot on her windowsill. I guess she wants to grow something other than mushrooms in it.""Mm, I suppose so." His attention shifted. "I'm just getting cookies. Did you want one?"On the verge of saying no, Vicky changed her mind. "Sure. Two for me and two for Amy, please."He smiled indulgently. "Okay." Taking four cookies out of the container, he handed them to her. "I remember what teenage metabolisms are like. Just don't rat me out to your mom.""I promise. You're the best." She accepted the cookies in one hand, then turned off the faucet and hefted the now-full pitcher in the other. Waiting until her father left the kitchen, she disobeyed the general injunction against flying in the house and drifted along soundlessly behind him. It was easier, she figured as she continued up the stairs without setting foot to floor, to break a smaller rule now than deal with a bigger mess later.When she got to Amy's room, she awkwardly turned the door handle with the hand that was holding the cookies, then nudged it open with her elbow. Amy looked up from where she was working on Atropos; the vigilante didn't look any better than she had before Vicky went downstairs, but appearances were probably deceiving."Oh, good," Amy said. "You brought the water.""And cookies," Vicky added, holding them up and nudging the door shut with her heel. "Just in case."
<><>
ShebangWhile Alice had come up with the concept of a bomb that teleported people in all directions away from ground zero, she hadn't yet built it. This was partially because she hadn't had the time, and partially because she was pretty sure it would fall under the category of 'only under controlled conditions, and no using yourself as a guinea pig'. Thus, she'd never been teleported in her life.It was a weird experience, to say the least. She found herself considering the effect in terms of how to replicate it with tech, firming up the idea she'd had for the teleport bomb. This, she suspected, was going to be a regular thing from this point forward.Coming out the other end, she felt the immediate pain in her ears from the altitude shift, and worked her jaw to compensate. Off to the side, she could hear Miss Medic instructing Tenebrae and Clockblocker on how to do the same, which sounded ass-backward until she considered the fact that the kid was apparently the best cape surgeon on the block since Bonesaw bit it.(Overall, Alice had mixed feelings about Atropos, but her destruction of the Slaughterhouse Nine was a thing of beauty, especially her tactical use of explosions.)It seemed Assault and Trooper Ballinger were handling their end just fine, from the way Ballinger was looking around, and Assault was going to meet the cape who was waiting for them. "Hi," he said, holding out his hand. "Long time no see, Chevalier. How've you been?""Tolerably well, Assault." Chevalier, wearing silver and gold armour and carrying a weapon that looked like a cross between a sword and a gun, shook Assault's hand. "And yourself?"
<><>
ChevalierAssault chuckled wryly. "Well,
I've
been fine, and Battery is doing well, but as for the rest of it … it's been an
interesting
few months, as I'm sure you've heard.""I had, yes." Michael carefully resisted the urge to ask an inane question about Atropos or her methods, in the vein of 'did she really …?', mainly because he knew she really had.He'd watched all the footage resulting from her lethal escapades (it had been deemed required viewing, by the Chief Director herself) and had attended Canberra, albeit briefly. Her PHO thread was also analysed and disseminated whenever a new post came out, but what had made a deep and abiding impression on him was the glimpse his power had had of the cape herself.When he focused on a parahuman, he could see glimpses and impressions of what their power was about, and hints of their capabilities and intentions. What he'd seen when he looked at her was a teenage girl with a vast, looming beast pacing alongside her, placing its feet carefully in deference to her wishes, conferring with her on what they would do next. There was a link between them; neither the leash of strict control nor the strings of a puppeteer (both of which he'd seen in the past), it was more a commonality of purpose, an agreement between equals. The only other cape he'd ever seen who was this deeply in harmony with their power was Jack Slash, and wasn't
that
a pleasant thought?All the time, it had been reaching out with shadowy tentacles and
nudging
those around Atropos, in response to her interactions with them. The cape with her, Flechette, had those tentacles wrapped around her, but in a way that seemed protective rather than restrictive, and there were more tentacles stretching out to the horizon.While waiting for Strider to teleport him back to Philadelphia, he'd watched as Atropos conferred with Alexandria, the tentacles nudging the Chief Director subtly as they spoke.(He of course knew who Rebecca Costa-Brown really was. That part of his power was thoroughly classified, for good reason).When Eidolon had returned, the conversation went on with him. Michael had not been close enough to hear what was going on, but an agreement was reached … and then Atropos did something with her shears, and the monster
reached down and separated Eidolon from his powers.
Michael had heard she'd done exactly the same thing to Bastard Son before she killed him, but to watch it in action was deeply unnerving, not least because she could apparently do it so casually (though having the subject survive was a bonus, at least).Then had come the deeply frightening moment, when the creature turned its immense head to look directly at
him, and raised one gigantic, clawed finger to where he supposed its lips to be. There had been the flash of teeth in what might have been a smile before it turned its attention back to what Atropos was doing, but he knew damn well it was keeping an eye on him.Not having any particular desire to die on the spot (and having zero doubt that she was capable of it, after observing the fate of the Simurgh), he'd waited until he got home before he contacted the Chief Director. She'd sighed, then briefed him on the devil's bargain Eidolon had entered into: his powers, for the End of the other two Endbringers.Since then, there had been no sign of another attack, or even an Endbringer moving around under the ocean or the surface of the Earth, so he hoped and prayed that the sacrifice had not been in vain. Atropos had of course continued on her merry, murderous way, though there was less of the murder these days (thus proving that if they really tried, people
could
learn pattern recognition).Also, he was beginning to suspect he knew exactly what had happened to Butcher Fourteen's powers when Atropos killed her, which was just
another
thing that was going to keep him awake at night."So yeah," Assault said briskly, all unaware of the dark thoughts Michael was entertaining, "you've met Clockblocker before, but the others are new. Tenebrae and Miss Medic out of Brockton Bay, and Shebang from New York. Trooper Ballinger's been appointed to Shebang for the duration.""I see." Michael did know Clockblocker, and was aware that he was capable of being serious when he needed to be. The name, he suspected, would follow the young man for the rest of his life. "It's good to meet you all."He focused his power on Shebang first, finding impressions of effects that could only be deemed 'explosions' because they started from a point and expanded outward. Emily Piggot's assessment of her indicated that she may have been intending for a different kind of debut before the ex-Empire capes forced her hand; from what he could see, it was not an inaccurate summation. However, she seemed to be set on the path of being a hero now, so he left her and moved on to Tenebrae.The young man had actually
been
a criminal before his recruitment into the Wards, and his power impression backed that up. A life lived in the shadows, not all of his own making, had been traded out for walking in the light, using his shadows to aid others. He also held himself like a trained fighter, which was good to see in someone who might have to engage the criminal element hand-to-hand.Finally, there was Miss Medic. Looking even more petite than normal next to Tenebrae (apparently her cousin, and caregiver of record), she was almost unbearably cute in her pseudo-military costume and her obvious eagerness to please. But deeper down … Michael had to restrain himself from taking a step back.Her past was
soaked
in blood. Instead of a static impression, with her he saw a progression of images cycling through, not unlike the Gray Boy loop they'd come here to destroy. Clawed hands, a skeletal grin, spreading death and despair wherever she went, with the shadowy figure of Jack Slash holding her puppet strings. Then the strings were severed, and very
familiar
talons tore her asunder; the macabre grotesquerie was discarded, allowing the child before him to walk onward, clad in angelic light, determined to help
everyone.Christ almighty. That's Bonesaw. I thought she was dead.A memory arose in his mind, and he recalled how Atropos had shot Bonesaw in the head then taken her away, supposedly to render her multiple lethal deadman switches harmless. None other than
Dragon
had signed off on her reported death … but unless his power was somehow glitching out altogether on him, Miss Medic was Bonesaw, literally reskinned.As he watched, shadowy tentacles appeared from nowhere and wrapped protectively around the girl, which gave him further pause. This, and the pure intent radiating off her, were the only reasons he didn't pull his cannonblade on the spot and blow her head off, but he still wanted to know
what the fuck was going on."You okay there?" asked Assault, giving Michael what he suspected was a concerned look."Yeah, I'm fine." Michael realised he'd been staring at Miss Medic for a few seconds too long. "Sorry, I've got a lot of things on my mind at the moment. Let's get this show on the road."
<><>
PanaceaAmy hummed to herself as she carefully rebuilt Atropos's limbs. The leg of ham provided the required biomass (even discounting the bits and pieces lost to her injuries, Atropos was
skinny) and the water Vicky had fetched was replacing her fluids nicely, so all Amy needed to do was make sure she matched to the left and right. While a few fingers and toes had gone missing on the intact limbs, Amy found her power was perfectly capable of tapping into Atropos' genetic predispositions and filling in the gaps that way.She'd taken the module off Atropos' left forearm so it wouldn't get in the way, and now it lay on the bed. Neither she nor Vicky were inclined to mess with it, but that didn't stop her sister from speculating on what it was. Amy had better things to do with her time right then; while Atropos might not have been the most badly injured person she'd ever had to treat, she'd definitely earned a spot in the top ten."I bet it's what she uses to remove powers," Vicky said from her seat on Amy's computer chair. "The thing with the sword was all just for show.""Nope," Amy countered absently as she finished off the toes on Atropos' regrown right foot. "She's used grapes twice that I personally know of, and Crystal says she gave Labyrinth a grape as well.""Well, okay, the thing with the sword
and
the grapes were all for show." Vicky spread her hands. "Misdirection. It's a thing, and she's really good at it.""I don't think so." Amy started on Atropos's right arm. She felt really in tune with her power today, with no need to pause and think about what she had to do next. "When I regrew Noelle's legs for her, Atropos told Trickster that there was something in the grape, a poison that only affected her powers. Now, she could've been lying to all of us but in my experience, she doesn't lie. She'll say things to your face that are so outrageous that they have to be false, but by the time you figure out they aren't, she's got what she wants.""Okay, yeah, point taken. She's a lot of things, but she's not a bullshit artist." Vicky rolled her eyes. "Not to say her
powers
aren't bullshit from end to end, but
she
says what she means."Amy felt Atropos' consciousness beginning to return; she had a moment to consider whether she wanted to keep the girl under, then decided that if her patient's body wanted to be awake, who was Amy to argue? She took a moment to dull the pain response a little, then kept on rebuilding Atropos' body, one repaired injury at a time."Thanks for the vote of confidence," Atropos said, pretty damn clearly for someone who had to be under a lot of discomfort right about then. "And it's my teleporter, but that was going to be your next guess anyway.""Yeah, but—holy shit!" yelped Vicky, staring at Atropos. "You're awake! How are you awake?""Because I'm not unconscious,
duh." Atropos grinned at Vicky, her expression visible where part of the mask had either been disintegrated or melted, Amy wasn't sure which. "By the way, Amy, nice job with my toes. You got them just right." She wiggled the appendages in question."Thanks." Despite herself, Amy felt a warm glow from the praise. "I had to lean on my power a bit, given that you'd lost a few toes from your
other
foot, but it figured things out anyway.""Okay." Vicky had gotten over her surprise, and now she leaned forward. "I gotta know. What the hell were you doing, going after Sleeper, anyway? He's all the way over in Russia, nowhere near Brockton Bay. Or did someone pay you to off him? Is he dead?""Vicky!" Amy hissed the word, hoping nobody had heard Vicky's reaction to Atropos waking up. "Stop badgering my patient!" She'd intended to do a little badgering of her own, after she got a little more of the work done, and didn't want her sister poisoning the well."No, it's okay." Atropos turned her head to face Vicky. "The reason I was going after Sleeper wasn't because anyone paid me to. It's because he's heading for the portal to Earth Shin, where he would cause untold death and destruction, but he's
doing
it to get away from me.""So … tell him that you're not after him?" suggested Vicky."I could, but it wouldn't stick." Atropos grimaced. "See, he was a low-level gangster who got caught in a firefight, and was shot in the head with a small-calibre bullet that fragmented and sent pieces all through his brain, disabling parts that he needed to stay alive. It would've killed him, but the fragments missed his corona pollentia, and he triggered before he would've died. His power took over his vital brain functions, but he's not exactly all there, and his brain keeps slipping and getting rebooted by his powers. So I got him a warning, and an offer. He can stay where he is and let me remove his powers while you and Miss Medic fix his brainmeats, or he can go through a portal to a world of
my
choosing."Amy noticed that a third option hadn't been given, then she figured that the third option was patently obvious. This was
Atropos, after all."Uh …" Vicky pointed at Atropos' face. "Your mask. It's slipping.""Oh, good point. Hang on a second." The hat had already fallen off when she arrived, not even really fit for the description anymore, but her mask was still mostly on her face. She used her partial left hand (Amy had yet to regrow the fingers she'd lost) to pull off the tattered remains and shook her hair out. "Whew, that's better.""Holy. Shit." Vicky breathed the words. "Did you just … are you
unmasking
to us?""Sure." Atropos seemed unfazed by the idea. "Are you gonna tell anyone what I look like?"Amy shook her head in a very definite negatory gesture, but Vicky seemed to have already gotten the idea. "Hah, not a hope in hell. I
like
living. Besides, I've got no idea what your name is.""Well, we can't have
that." Atropos' smirk was composed of pure mischief. "Taylor Hebert, at your service."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N 1: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.][A/N 2: Trigger warning for graphic description of an injury, second paragraph.]
Chevalier"He's just down this way." Michael led the way along an alley to where a section had been cordoned off with police tape. It was old and tattered, but still mostly intact, mainly because most people had no desire to screw with Gray Boy loops.The man contained within the monochrome bubble was in his mid-thirties and seemed to be repeating a section of looped time a little over five seconds in length. During that interval, something stabbed him low on the stomach and pulled upward, opening his abdominal wall up to his breastbone. He was just beginning to fall over, his intestines spilling out of the gaping wound, when the loop restarted."Eww, ugh," groused Clockblocker, raising a hand to block out the sight. "Warn a guy, why don't you?""What part of 'Gray Boy bubble' were you not actually told about?" asked Miss Medic rhetorically, apparently taking in every detail. This didn't actually make Michael feel any better about her. "Okay, the mental effects aside, this should be an easy fix.""Mental effects?" asked Assault. "What mental effects?""Yeah," Shebang added. "I want to hear about these mental effects too."Miss Medic turned to face them. "Okay, so when I got asked to volunteer for this, I went and read up everything I could get on them. I had to get special permission from Director Renick to access some information—something about me being too young to read stuff like that—but I made my case, and he was pretty understanding."Tenebrae tilted his head; Michael got the impression he was raising an eyebrow. "I
wondered
what that was about.""Yup!" she said brightly. "So, what I figure is that if someone is kept in a constant torture loop like this, their mind falls apart, then back together, then apart, and so on in a vicious cycle. Also, if they've got a corona pollentia, there's a
massive
chance that they'll trigger as soon as the bubble goes down. Ninety to ninety-five percent chance is my best guess."Michael did
not
want to engage with the girl he knew to be Bonesaw, especially while she was talking so knowledgeably about the long-term effects of torture, but this was absolutely something that had to be addressed. "Which means we would very likely have an insane person, with powers
and
potentially fatal injuries, right here in this alley with us.""Great," Clockblocker muttered. "Why
exactly are we doing this again?""Oh, the powers would almost certainly work to make sure the injury isn't fatal to him," Miss Medic said cheerfully, ignoring the interjection. "Unfortunately, that says nothing about what happens to everyone else around him, or even the whole city block."Assault looked around. "And this isn't Brockton Bay, so Atropos isn't likely to stroll around the corner and tell us this is a really bad idea.""Um," said Shebang. Her expression indicated someone who was feeling more and more out of their depth with every passing second."So, if he comes out and starts looking like obliterating us all, I freeze him and we all run like hell?" offered Clockblocker.Miss Medic shook her head. "Nuh-uh. I think I've got a better idea. Shebang, walk with me. We need to have a chat.""While you're doing that," Michael said, "I'll update Legend and the Chief Director on the current situation. Assault, try not to break anything before I get back."Assault leaned against the wall, arms folded. "No promises."Moving off a ways down the alley, Michael selected Costa-Brown's number on his phone and sent the call through.
<><>
AlexandriaWhen Rebecca saw Chevalier's number come up on her phone, her first thought was,
either something's gone extremely right or extremely wrong.
As no other alerts had popped up for Philadelphia, she dared hope for the former.Setting aside the report on the sighting of Atropos entering Sleeper's area of effect, she took up the phone. "Speak to me.""Ma'am, we're at the site." Chevalier sounded frazzled, which wasn't like the man at all. "We haven't yet begun operations, because of potential complications. But the biggest problem is that my power shows Miss Medic up to be Bonesaw. Nice kid, not in the slightest bit homicidal, but she's still Bonesaw. I don't know how Atropos did it, but—""Stop," she ordered. He fell silent, and she began to sift through all the potential ways this could have happened. Dragon had to be in on it, either as a willing conspirator or an unwitting dupe.
When did Atropos begin to turn her? Was it when she went after Atropos following the death of Saint?The next three questions were: how did Atropos dispose of the plagues from Bonesaw's body; then change her from a twelve-year-old blonde white girl to a ten-year-old black girl with a strong resemblance to the Laborns; then turn her from an amoral serial killer into a happy, healthy, well-adjusted child?From hundreds of possibilities, down to dozens, to a few, all the way to one, took her less than a second. There was only one person with the capability, with whom Atropos had had contact.
Deliberate, preplanned contact, or I'll eat my favourite boots, without salt.Panacea.It had to be.There was nobody else Rebecca knew of who could have disarmed Bonesaw, healed whatever damage Atropos did to make her look dead, changed her phenotype so thoroughly, and fixed her headspace to make her into someone who wanted to help and heal people. It only required one bit of information to determine whether the hypothesis was valid or not.Still holding the phone, she opened a text message box and tapped out a message to Contessa:Can Panacea work with brains?The answer came back two seconds later.yesRebecca closed her eyes for a second and smiled grimly. She wanted to face-palm due to how thoroughly Atropos had pulled the wool over everyone's eyes, but right now she wouldn't give herself the satisfaction. Later, when she had the time, she was going to fly up to ten thousand feet and scream a few obscenities into the wind, but until then she had to be Chief Director.The setup was clear now. For some reason, Atropos wanted to help Panacea de-stress, so she'd coldly and deliberately set matters up so that there was another healer in Brockton Bay. With the capture of Grue, the PRT had left themselves wide open for a third Laborn family member, who would have an older brother and sister to keep her on the straight and narrow. (Of course, having someone like Dragon on call to create said family records out of thin air also helped).According to Chevalier, Miss Medic was safe to be around, which was entirely on-brand with Atropos. After all, she'd turned more than two hundred and fifty killer robots into willing construction workers, and a surprising number of villains had meekly shown up at the Brockton Bay city limits, asking if they could also join the workforce.(Contessa was still smarting over being blasted in the ear with an air horn, over Faultline).And that didn't even count Accord, who at last report was having a ball laying out the plans for the recuperation of the entire goddamn Brockton Bay region with the glee of an OCD perfectionist handed a ten-figure budget.Rebecca made a mental note to keep a much closer eye on Dragon, and see what other shenanigans the AI was up to—it had to be Atropos who'd gotten her around the limitations Saint had regularly exploited—but decided not to confront her until she had more information. Then she put the phone to her ear again. "Chevalier, thank you for bringing this information to me. The situation is under control. You are to take no further action regarding this specific situation, or tell anyone else about this, except Legend. Do you understand?"The pause was so long that she wondered if the call had dropped out. Then he responded. "Message received and understood, ma'am. We're to treat this as Atropos business?"By which he evidently meant, 'do not fuck around with, lest we find out'."Exactly," she said. "Atropos business. So long as Miss Medic does her job and does it properly, let her be. Now, you said there were potential complications?""Ah, actually, yes. We're at the Gray Boy loop we're intending to try to drop, and Miss Medic indicated that the victim would likely have been sent insane by the ordeal. Also, there's a ninety-plus percent chance that he's going to trigger with powers as soon as we release him. She's currently conferring with Shebang over a potential fix."Rebecca closed her eyes again.
Nothing's ever easy.
"But she sounds like she has a solution?""She seems to think she might, yes.""Okay, when you find out what it is, use your best judgement. Have you spoken to Legend about any of this yet?""I was going to call him next, ma'am.""Good. Do that. Tell him I'm on to the Bonesaw aspect. Costa-Brown, out."She ended the call and put the phone down on the desk, then let out an aggravated sigh.One day, Atropos. Just one day without your bullshit. That's all I ask.
<><>
Glory Girl"Wait,
what?" Vicky was so startled, only her flight saved her from falling off the chair. "That's not your real name … is it?" But she was staring at Atropos' face, comparing it to the memory of a tall man with careworn features, snapping orders that saved another man's life."That's me." Appearing to know what Vicky was thinking, Taylor nodded to her. "Danny Hebert's my dad."Now Amy was staring too. "You put your
dad
in as head of the Betterment Committee? Isn't that a conflict of interest or something?"Taylor's snort was pure Atropos. "You're acting like I should care about rules like that. I trust Dad to play things straight down the line, so I adjusted matters to make sure he'd be in the running for the top spot. Mayor Christner made the final call, though I'm fairly sure he picked Dad so if things did go to shit, he could claim that it wasn't one of
his
people at fault.""But …" Vicky stumbled for words. When Atropos had been a faceless shadow with a terrifyingly sharp pair of shears and a gun that never missed, it was easy to see her as a force of nature. Tornadoes didn't need to have a grudge against the trailer parks they demolished, they just went ahead and did it. But now she was facing a girl of her own age in a tattered costume, patently vulnerable to injury, who had
reasons
for what she did. Mortal like the rest of them.It was a paradigm shift that Vicky was having trouble getting her head around."Let me guess," Atropos said, not unkindly. "You want to know why I kill people? How I can bring myself to just End their lives, while at the same time helping out people like Amy?""Well … yes." Vicky wouldn't have put it quite as bluntly as that, but that was the gist of it. "Why murder?"Taylor's eyes glinted. "Because nothing else was working.""Yes, it was!" The retort burst out of her before she even had time to think about it. "We had police, PRT, and heroes! We were making a difference!""Bullshit." The word was flat and hard, and fell into the conversation like a lead brick. "You were treading water
at best. Hookwolf and Lung both had Birdcage sentences, yet they were still walking the streets in broad daylight. How many times did Hookwolf get captured but escape from his transport because someone
inside law enforcement
leaked the route to the Empire Eighty-Eight? Three times, wasn't it?""We were keeping the crime down," Vicky persisted. "Keeping the streets safe.""By letting the ABB extort 'protection' money and run prostitutes, many of whom were forced into the life. My ex-best-friend nearly ended up having her face mutilated for a gang initiation, in broad daylight, with a superhero standing right there and choosing not to intervene. Does
that
sound like the streets were being kept safe?""That doesn't sound right," objected Amy. "Which superhero was that?""Shadow Stalker." Taylor's voice may as well have been reading a name out of a phone book. "And yes, she was my first kill. The irony is, I didn't even do it for Emma. She was an edgelord psycho who never stepped in to help anyone unless they fought back first. But if the person she was bullying fought back, she came back twice as hard at them. She tried it on me, and ignored two warnings."Amy nodded, remembering. "Yeah, I read about that on your PHO thread. She was actually bullying you before you were Atropos?""She was." Taylor didn't seem overly put out about it. "And then, once I got my powers, she wasn't. But we were talking about the ABB. Two capes, and nobody did a damn thing about them until I took care of matters.""Well, okay, they
were
pretty bad," conceded Vicky, "but you have to admit, Lung was a tough nut to crack, especially with Oni Lee helping him."Taylor gave her a level stare. "It took me four nights, and I Ended two other gangs while I was at it. As for the Merchants, they were hardly even a gang, but everyone just kept letting them deal drugs to kids anyway. And finally, the Empire Eighty-Eight had more capes in the city than all the heroes put together, and committed more cape crime than all the other
villains
put together. When was the last time any of them were even
captured, much less spent a night in lockup?" Her eyebrows should've been treated as deadly weapons, the way she had them cocked and locked.These were questions Vicky couldn't really find a good answer for, but she did her best anyway. "We couldn't fix everything at once. Anyway, when they cleared all the villains out of Boston, a new bunch came in and started fighting over turf. A lot of people got hurt before it was over. Tell her, Ames!" She looked over at her sister. Amy had been there too, putting pins in maps and relaying sightings."Why?" asked Amy. "I'm on
her
side."While Vicky was still gaping at that, Taylor cleared her throat. "You'll notice that I
did
fix everything at once. Five nights, four gangs. Also, some capes did try to replay the Boston Games scenario. Some of them died, and some of them came in on
my
terms, and aren't villains anymore. Because the act of Ending someone isn't just a blunt instrument. Used right, it can be a scalpel too.""Okay, okay, wait, hold on a second." Vicky wanted to address one thing at a time. "Ames, what the
fuck?
What do you mean, you're on her side? She
kills
people!"Amy rolled her eyes as only she could. "I'm not into the murder thing.
Obviously.
But she's right when she says what we were doing wasn't working. And what she's been doing
did actually fucking work.
So there's got to be a third way, maybe just a tidal wave of heroes coming into a city and scouring out every last villain—""Sorry, but that wouldn't work." Taylor wasn't as scathing as she had been to Vicky, but her tone was equally definite. "While villains by themselves don't cause social problems for the most part, they do exacerbate existing ones, and make it a lot harder to eradicate every last trace of them. But if you only take the villains away, the issues remain and feed on each other. You've got to hit all aspects of a problem, or it just keeps cropping up again."By now, Amy was nodding. "Infrastructure, crime, homelessness, poverty, unemployment, poor education, drug habituation, mental illness, yeah. Got it. You're stabbing all those problems with money.""And to both get that money and to make sure it wouldn't be wasted once spent, I had to End a whole bunch of people who desperately needed it," Taylor agreed. "Plus an Endbringer." She gave Vicky a sly look. "I hope you're not going to hold the Simurgh against me too?"Vicky had learned enough from her clashes with Atropos to know when to admit that continuing to argue would just make her look like the bad guy. Rolling her eyes, she shook her head with a chuckle. "Oh, just shut the fuck up and let my sister heal your sorry ass."
<><>
Clockblocker"So, how's your dad, anyway?" asked Tenebrae idly. "Still doing well, I hope?"Dennis nodded and grinned, though the latter was entirely hidden inside his helmet. "It's been a week, and he's getting stronger all the time. He went in for tests today, so we won't find out for another couple of days, but we're really optimistic." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Your cousin is
amazing.
Just saying.""Yeah, she is." Tenebrae nodded in return. "She's helping knock some of the rougher edges off my little sister, and …" He paused. "Did you know Paladin is living with us?""Not officially, but it's gotten around, yeah." Dennis tilted his head. "Is it true that he's whats-his-name's kid? I mean, literally Captain Nazi Junior?" He figured that was safe enough to say around Ballinger. Assault wasn't telling him to shut up, anyway.Tenebrae sighed. "I can neither confirm nor deny his identity, but I
can
tell you that Paladin has zero attitudes in that direction. Even though he's older than both of them, they treat him like their little brother.""Aww, nice." Dennis was about to say more, but Assault cleared his throat and gestured sideways with his head. Looking that way, Dennis saw Chevalier on the way back. "Heads up, the big guy's incoming.""So are Miss Medic and Shebang." Tenebrae was looking in the other direction. It kind of made sense that he'd be keeping an eye on his cousin. "They don't look too upset, so I'm guessing they came up with something."Dennis snorted. "What did you expect? Lock two Tinkers in the same room together, and they'll either kill each other or bust out of there with a battle tank that flies and can turn into a giant robot.""Don't you mean, a giant robot that flies and turns into a battle tank?""I meant what I said."
<><>
Tenebrae"Okay, then," announced Riley, dusting her hands off in a businesslike way. "Shebang and I have pretty well figured out how we can
maybe
solve our problems."Shebang put up a finger. "That's a pretty big 'maybe', hon. Also, it was basically all your idea."Brian heard the bit she didn't say, loud and clear.
So if it goes wrong, it's not my fault."Well, don't keep us all in suspense," Assault prompted. "What's the solution?"Riley took a deep breath. "You might not be a fan of this, but here goes.
Memory loss.
We drop the loop, then we
immediately
revert his memories back to just before he went in. If he's got no memories of being tortured, he's not insane. If he's not insane, he's not under stress. If he's not under stress, he's got no reason to trigger. Then all I have to do is save his life—which, to be honest, Clock here could manage with a staple gun and half a dozen Band-Aids—and we're home and dry, yeah?"Clockblocker held up his hand. "You're right. Not a fan. But … I can't really see another way to do it?" He drew the statement out like a question, as though hoping someone else would point out an alternative solution."It
is
an interesting concept," Chevalier observed neutrally. "How exactly were you going to revert his memories in a way that wouldn't cause additional stress?"Riley grinned and pointed Shebang's way with two finger-guns. "Plan A is for our bomb-guru here to make
two
bombs, linked. The first bomb drops the loop. The second bomb absorbs the temporal energy from the loop and pops off in our victim's face, reverting everything in the area to what it was on whatever date he got Gray-Boy'd. We'd have to find that out, of course.""I don't even know if that'll work, just saying," Shebang supplied. "Theoretically, it
should. But there's a huge gap between 'theoretically' and 'reality'."Assault rubbed his chin. "If you have a Plan A, then you have at least a Plan B. What's Plan B? Clockblocker lurking behind him with a big hammer?""No, that's plan Z." Riley said it so seriously that Brian was almost taken in for a second. "Plan B is that the second bomb hits him with an infused dose of stuff I can make that … um." She glanced around at everyone, still looking at her with interest, then went on. "That kind of causes a moderate amount of retrograde amnesia. Instant uptake, instant effect."Clockblocker looked around at the group. "Am I the only one who doesn't know what retrograde amnesia is?""I don't," confessed Shebang."Likewise," said Assault.Trooper Ballinger cleared his throat. "Isn't it loss of the memories from before whatever happened to you?""Holy shit!" blurted Clockblocker. "He speaks!" He turned to Ballinger. "Seriously, I was half wondering if you were a robot that Shebang made.""I make
bombs, doofus, not robots." Shebang rolled her eyes. "Trooper Ballinger is a perfectly nice man who volunteered to carry my cases for me."Assault cleared his throat. "Trooper, on behalf of my Wards, I apologise for the rudeness. Especially considering that you knew more about what Miss Medic was referring to than half of us did."Ballinger nodded. "I appreciate it, sir, but it's not a problem.""Was there a Plan C?" asked Chevalier.Riley nodded. "Yes, sir. Instead of a second bomb, Clockblocker freezes him and I apply the stuff as a topical ointment. Skin uptake isn't as fast as bomb infusion, so there's a chance he'll still trigger before it takes effect. And Plan D is … well, we call up Atropos and ask her to help out by killing his powers before he can do anything drastic, then we keep him sedated until we can deal with his mental problems.""Hmm." Chevalier seemed to be thinking hard. "Let's leave any plans that involve calling on Atropos as extreme backup plans, shall we? For now … Shebang, for Plan A, what's the projected range on that time-reversion bomb, and do you need extra equipment to put it together?""Anything from fifteen feet to fifty feet, and I'll need to get some readings first." Shebang turned to Trooper Ballinger, and pointed. "I need that case, please.""Ma'am." He picked up the left-hand case and hefted it forward a few feet, then stepped back."Thank you." Unsnapping the catches, she opened it to reveal a bewildering array of electronics, with an air of being slightly
off
that Brian was learning to recognise was a trademark of Tinker tech. He'd seen it in Kid Win's work as well as Armsmaster's, but Shebang's was even more obvious. Whether it was because she was newer or she just didn't care enough to try to make her stuff look more normal, he had no idea.Sliding an instrument out of its niche, she began running it over the exterior of the bubble that enclosed the Gray Boy loop. Within, the hapless victim went through his endless cycle of being eviscerated, falling, resetting, stabbed, falling, over and over again. Brian didn't like it, but he'd seen worse as Grue, and he suspected he would again."Well, okay then." Shebang was focusing on the readouts to the point that Brian suspected she'd forgotten there was a man in there. "Gotta say, Clock, this is a lot easier than trying to get data out of your stupid rubber ball." She shut off the scanner while Brian was still trying to make sense of that, then turned to face Chevalier. "I've got good news and bad news, sir.""Bad news first," he said promptly. "Is this even possible to do?""Oh, sure, it's possible." She tried a nonchalant twirl with her scanner, and it slipped out of her grasp, but Brian whipped out his hand and snagged it before it could drop all the way to the floor of the alley. "Shit! Um, wow, those are some crazy-ass reflexes you've got there.""If you ever met my sister, you'd know why." He waited until he was sure she had a good grip on it before letting it go. The last thing he wanted was for her to have to go back to New York to build another scanner. "So, you were saying?""Oh, yeah." She took a deep breath. "It's totally doable. Buuuttttt … I just don't have the parts I need for the second bomb. Good news, I can
build
it, and I'm pretty sure I can make it work. I just need some stuff first.""What do you need, and do you have it back in New York?" asked Chevalier."A bunch of rare earths," she admitted. "And no, I don't. So I'm gonna have to requisition it through Legend and Director Piggot. On the upside, once I've got it, I'm reasonably sure I can bust our buddy right out of grayscale world, and rewind his memory to day dot." She tucked the scanner back into the case and dusted her hands off, looking pleased with herself."So … we're
not
popping the cork today?" asked Clockblocker.Brian shrugged. "It appears not.""Understood." Chevalier nodded once, curtly. "Well, then. Let's get you back home, so you can work on that. Well done, by the way. Any progress is better than no progress at all."As they filed out of the alleyway, Brian could feel the man's eyes on the back of his neck, but he didn't look back.We'll get you out of there, buddy. Just not today.
<><>
TaylorOn my feet at last, I stretched and flexed my arms and legs. Already, I could feel my power retuning my newly rebuilt muscles to optimum fitness levels. "Well, that's definitely an improvement," I decided. "When I got here, I didn't have a leg to stand on."Amy face-palmed, and Vicky groaned. "Wow, really?" Vicky groused. "Bad jokes, at a time like this?""Hey, there's always time for bad jokes." I tugged on what remained of my left sleeve and it came away, then I picked up the teleport module and slid it onto my arm. "It's amazing how many people underestimate you if you make a cheesy pun at the right moment.""Now I know why you and Mouse Protector get along so well," Amy snarked. She nodded at the teleporter as I settled it into place. "Where did you get it from, anyway? I've seen a bit of Tinker tech before, but nothing as good as that.""Leet, actually." Flicking up the cover, I tapped in the coordinates for my bedroom at home. "I had a word with him, my power had a word with his power, and what do you know, tech that doesn't blow up if you look at it wrong."Vicky frowned. "What do you mean, your power had a word with his power? Powers don't talk to each other.""Trump powers do," I corrected her. "Also, Jack Slash's power was
built
to talk to other powers. It was how he managed to stay around for so long. Any time a cape went after him, it was feeding him information under the table."Amy nodded. "Yeah, I remember how you talked about what a cheating asshole he was.""He was all of that. And when
my
power has a word with someone else's power, that power knows not to screw me over." I flipped the cover down again. "Need a hand cleaning up?""Pfft, nah." She waved her hand casually. "I got this. You're good at killing things, but I'm
amazing
at dealing with biological messes.""Okay, yeah, point." I raised my (newly regrown) finger to get her attention, and Vicky's as well. "Before I go, there's two things I want to say. First, thank you both for being good sports. I truly appreciate it. And second, just remember that jumping straight to killing
isn't
the solution to dealing with villains. Not for you, anyway."Vicky blinked. "Okay, I wasn't about to go out and start murdering villains, but isn't that a teensy bit hypocritical of you? You started offing people from the get-go. You've blown up warehouses and boats, and set fire to eighteen-wheelers. And I'm
never
going to forget what you did to Lung and Skidmark.""All of that is true," I admitted. "Except for the hypocrisy bit. See, my power is basically called Ending. Its entire purpose is killing things: people, ideas, intentions, threats. It tells me who needs to die in order to End a problem, how to End them, and how to do it in order to get the reaction I want. But the result I want needs to involve Ending something. I can't just say, 'I want', and get it.""And what you want is …?" Vicky prompted."Don't you read PHO at all?" Amy chided her. "She wants what we want. A safer and nicer Brockton Bay."I clicked my tongue and made a finger-gun at her. "Got it in one."Vicky nodded, her expression thoughtful. "Understood. Well, thanks for trusting us. Trusting
me.""Thanks for being trustworthy. Welp, my ride's here." I turned as the shadowy portal formed in mid-air. Giving both girls a nod, I stepped into it, emerging in my own bedroom.Tattered costume and all, I pirouetted on my toes and fell backward onto the bed, letting out a huge sigh."Well," I informed the ceiling. "That
was a day."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
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♦ Topic: A New Warning DeliveredIn: Boards ► Brockton Bay ► New Capes ► AtroposAtropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me) (Verified Dethpicable)Posted On Mar 15th 2011:Hello again to my favorite city, and the wonderful people therein!I hope you're having an awesome week. Mine's looking up; I had a little bit of a rough patch yesterday, but I made two new friends, so that's always a good thing.So anyway, for those who have read the title of this post, you must be wondering exactly who did the stupid and got my attention.That person is Sleeper.He's not very sociable, but that's okay. It takes all kinds. In his case, he was looking to go someplace populous and kill a lot of people, if by accident.For reasons of my own, I'm reluctant to let that happen, so I had to go in and give him a warning not to. It wasn't the easiest thing in the world, but I got in through his storm (mostly in one piece) and delivered it to his hand. At midnight local time, even, because traditions are fun.Yes, I could've just ganked him, but I've said everyone gets a warning, so he got a warning.What happens next is up to him. Either he loses his powers, allows me to shunt him to an unoccupied alternate Earth where he can devastate the landscape to his heart's content, or I put Sleeper to sleep, permanently.I gave him twenty-four hours to think about it. We'll see how it goes then.Toodles!(Showing page 1 of 276)
►Bagrat
(Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)Replied On Mar 15th 2011:Well, dang.Okay, this is going to need some unpacking, because apparently Atropos is too modest to claim credit for stopping the first potential interdimensional war.Where do I start?About a week and a half ago, a cape dictator calling herself Goddess (pretentious? Never!) on an alternate Earth with the designation of Shin decided she needed outside help to quash the multiple resistance movements pushing back against her Benevolent Rule (yes, this is sarcasm).So, not being from Brockton Bay, she decided that the best possible way to pull this off was to kidnap not only Atropos (a career ending move if I ever heard of one) but also to grab a few hostages on top of that (one of whom was our very own Miss Medic). Held in remote locations, they were Goddess' guarantee that Atropos wouldn't go all murder-happy on her and her Court.This did not go well.See, Atropos saw her coming. (Goddess' real name was Bianca. The day before all this kicked off, in Atropos' PHO post, she literally inserted the phrase "Be informed: a new city arises", which spells out BIANCA if you go back and look at it (I facepalmed so hard when someone told me.))With her usual combination of audacity and sneakery, she managed to make it look like she was slaughtering her way through the resistance guys, while in fact she was doing the exact opposite. End result: Goddess lost her powers, the resistance forces took the palace, and Atropos got the hostages home safely. RIP Goddess.Since then, Shin has since opened trade relations with Bet, via a portal that apparently exists somewhere.Anyway, Sleeper started moving very recently, and it was determined he was heading for this portal. If he'd gotten through it, the loss of life would've been catastrophic, and apparently Atropos feels some level of responsibility for Bet-Shin relations, so she took it on herself to deliver him the warning she talked about.*How* she did it, I'm not entirely sure, because his 'storm' (as good a word as any) is pretty well destructive to anything that's not actually the ground, but she got in and out again alive, so I'm not arguing.All I can say is, damn. That's some serious dedication to doing the right thing.Sleeper, if you have internet access, here's my two cents. Do what she says. Seriously.
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me) (Verified Dethpicable)Replied On Mar 15th 2011:(sigh)Okay, fine, that happened. I did that. The governments of Shin are transitioning as we speak, to a vaguely democratic model where cape and non-cape alike get a fair shake, following my specific recommendation not to have a backlash against capes in general.Sleeper's incursion would've set all that back, and I'm not a fan of wasted effort. Thus, the warning.
►Reave
(Verified PRT Agent)Replied On Mar 15th 2011:I can confirm that Miss Medic and a friend were abducted from her home on the fifth, and returned within a few hours, unscathed. The third hostage was equally unharmed, according to them.Representatives of Earth Shin have opened diplomatic negotiations, which include trade agreements.Sleeper has also been reported to be on the move.The PRT wishes to thank Atropos for saving Miss Medic, and her timely response to this crisis.
►MalarkeyReplied On Mar 15th 2011:Huh, so Aleph isn't the only alternate out there. Good to know.Anyway.'Swhat happens when you break one of the Rules.Goddess broke Rule 3. She thought she had brought Atropos to her choice of battlefield, and found the landmine she had already prepared.
►GrinningCatReplied On Mar 15th 2011:Heh whelp I know that the Darwin Awards committe declared death by Atropos as off limits for nominations of awards but I bet earth shin will be forming its own Darwin academy from the sheer stupidity goddess showed there Rest in Pieces moron.
►UnconcernedFoxReplied On Mar 15th 2011:*peers suspiciously at Sleeper**settles back and grabs more popcorn**not over yet*
►MissMedic
(Verified Cape) (Wards ENE)Replied On Mar 15th 2011:I've checked and I am allowed to say that yes, I was there, and yes, it went down basically like Bagrat says.It was kinda scary, and I don't really want to talk about it, but Atropos totally got us all home safely.
►WingsOnHigh
(Verified Not the Simurgh)Replied On Mar 15th 2011:Reading between the lines, I'm a little concerned about some of the phrasing there. 'A little bit of a rough patch', 'wasn't the easiest thing in the world', 'mostly in one piece'.Should we be worried?
►Atropos
(Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me) (Verified Dethpicable)Replied On Mar 15th 2011:Meh, it's nothing I couldn't walk off, with a little help from my friends.
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PRIVATE MESSAGETo:
AtroposFrom:
ReaveSubject:
Just checkingAre you actually okay? Sleeper is no joke.
■
PRIVATE MESSAGETo:
ReaveFrom:
AtroposSubject:
Re: Just checkingAnd nobody's laughing.It got a little hairy there for a while, but I came out of it okay.Thanks for asking. I appreciate it.
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<><>
Audrey HowellFormer Vice Principal, Arcadia HighWinslow High School looked less than appealing as Audrey drove into the parking lot, but that was only to be expected. Arcadia set a very high bar. Still, someone was making a belated effort, as attested to by the parts of the frontage that had been pressure-washed, probably to get rid of graffiti.I still don't know why I agreed to this,
she told herself, but that wasn't strictly true. She'd been working with Vernon for seventeen years at Arcadia, and considered him to be more like a brother than a boss. So when he'd asked her to take over at Winslow for the duration, at least until the beginning of the next school year when the Board could appoint new staff, she'd found it hard to say no.It was going to be one hell of a wrench, and a steep learning curve, she knew that much. Winslow had a distinctly shabby reputation; 'gang-infested' was a phrase she'd heard more than once. She could only hope the junior recruits at Winslow had gotten the memo that the gangs were gone from Brockton Bay.Parking her car, she retrieved her shoulder-bag and got out, then made sure to lock the vehicle. How much good this would actually do, she wasn't sure, but it was worth a try. Checking herself out in the side mirror—hair tied back professionally, business attire, floral scarf around her neck for a touch of colour—she nodded in satisfaction. She wasn't quite sure what headspace the kids would be in after the principal and one of the teachers were escorted out by police, but they probably wouldn't react well to a total martinet walking in the front door.As she climbed the front steps of the school, she could see many subtle (and not so subtle) clues indicating a long-standing lack of maintenance on the building and its surroundings. She couldn't do much about them, or about the sidelong glances from the students also coming in, but she took note and kept moving. As the outsider here, she was the one who was going to have to prove herself to the teachers
and
the student body.She hadn't been able to get away from Arcadia until today, so Winslow had been without a principal for a week. The Board had sent an interim administrator in on a strictly temporary basis; he'd kept the cogs turning, delegating where he could and signing what had to be signed. Audrey was the one who was going to have to actually do the job rather than just hide in the office and kick the can down the road.As she stepped in through the main doors, she was faced with a mass of students, every single one of whom (it seemed) were looking directly at her, dissecting her with their eyes. To her relief, she didn't see any gang colours, but one or two heads had remarkably short haircuts, and the atmosphere held more than a hint of sullen animosity, all aimed at her. She got the impression that Blackwell had done nothing whatsoever to endear herself to the students, and this had poisoned the well for her successors going forward.And then a girl stepped out of the crowd; tall, neatly dressed, with long dark hair and glasses. Moving confidently, she went straight up to Audrey and held out her hand. "Hi," she said briskly. "You'd be Mrs Howell, our new principal? It's good to meet you."Reflexively, Audrey shook it. "Yes, yes, I am," she replied. "It's nice to be here." Her brain finally caught up with her mouth at that point. "I'm sorry, but who are you?""Oh, I'm Taylor Hebert, but that's not important." Taylor smiled, her manner somehow giving the lie to her casual tone. "I just wanted to welcome you to Winslow, and wish you good luck in managing this madhouse." She added a chuckle that sounded so natural Audrey found herself smiling in response."Well, thank you, Taylor. I appreciate the sentiment." She made a mental note to look up Ms Hebert's file as soon as she got the chance; if this girl wasn't already student body president, the position was going wanting."That's okay." Taylor stepped aside to let her pass. "I have to get to home room now. You have a good day.""You, too." Audrey moved onward; it took her a few moments to realise that the entire attitude of the hallway full of students had shifted. Where before there had been subtle sneers and scowls, people were now clearing the way for her and offering nods of respect. A few even murmured a greeting as she passed by.What on earth is going on here?
She'd done nothing that she could see to have engendered such a change. A brief glance backward assured her that there were no hulking students looming behind her to require such deference. On she went, trying her best to pretend this was how she was always treated in a new school.It was only when she'd passed by all the students and was in an empty hallway that the question occurred to her:
how did Ms Hebert know my name? I'm pretty sure there's been no announcement yet.
It was just another mystery to add to the pile.When she got to the principal's office—her
office—she didn't bother knocking. The interim administrator looked up as she opened the door and entered. "Can I help you?" He was balding and overweight, almost a parody of the classic idea of a school principal."I believe so." She gave him a brief smile. "I'm Audrey Howell, the new principal. You would be Derek Simons?""That's me." He popped to his feet more quickly than she would have expected for someone of his apparently sedentary nature. "I wasn't expecting you for another couple of hours. What do you need?"She took a deep breath. "I need you to fill me in on everything. Issues you're dealing with right now. Any discipline problems with the students. Where everything is in this office. Any maintenance problems you've found.
Everything."As the eager light died from his eyes, she realised he'd thought he was going to be just walking out the door the moment she walked in.
Oh, hon. Not hardly."Um … okay, I've got a folder here …" He pulled open a drawer."Good, but before we get started on that, can you answer me a question?"He looked up from the folder. "What?""When you're walking the halls, how do the students treat you?"The grimace told her everything. "They look at me like I'm shit on the bottom of their shoe. Why?""Oh, no reason."As he opened the folder, and started showing her what he had, she paid attention. But at the back of her mind, the question had been asked.What the heck happened back there?
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Cauldron BaseLegend"Did you know?"Keith looked up from his morning croissant as Rebecca stalked into the break room, staring daggers at Contessa.Contessa finished pouring her coffee, put it down then turned to Rebecca with cup in hand. "About Miss Medic? Yes."Keith's head came up; he knew what this was about, and he was still working out his stance on the matter. Despite his new knowledge about the girl, he still liked her. She was a delight to talk to, and dedicated to her role. He'd heard that everyone upped their game when she was around, so as not to disappoint her."What about Miss Medic?" Doctor Mother put down her herbal tea and looked from one to the other. "Don't keep us in suspense, here."Rebecca sighed in aggravation and massaged her brow with her fingers and thumb; Keith suspected the pressure being generated would have crushed steel. "She's Bonesaw. Or she used to be. Atropos pulled some
bullshit
I'm still trying to get to the bottom of, had Panacea give her a total physical and mental makeover, then got Dragon to assist in getting the girl inserted into the Wards program."Across the other side of the table, Kurt let out a bark of laughter. "Oh, yeah. That girl's got
style."Rebecca glared at him. "Shut up. Not helping.""Bonesaw." Doctor Mother stared at her. "Are you
certain?"Keith understood where she was coming from. Between age, height, weight, facial shape, body type and ethnic phenotype, Bonesaw and Miss Medic had absolutely nothing in common. Both were preteen girls, and that was it."Chevalier got a look at her with his power yesterday." Rebecca let out a gusty sigh. "He said she had the purest of intentions. She
wants
to help people. But …""But she's still
Bonesaw," Doctor Mother said. "What the hell? Why are we even letting this go on? For all we know, the girl will snap back tomorrow and start murdering people all over again.""No, she won't." Kurt shook his head. "I've seen how Atropos works. She's there before a problem can become unfixable, and she knows how to fix it. If she's not keeping tabs on Miss Medic, I'll clean every corridor in this place with my tongue.""But
still …" Doctor Mother shook her head. "We should do something.""No. We shouldn't." Contessa sipped at her coffee. "As Number Man said, Miss Medic is under her eye, and under her protection. Interfering would only draw her attention, and her ire. I have no desire to do either.""Exactly. And she
is
helping people." Keith eyed Contessa carefully. "Is this why you didn't tell us earlier?"She raised one perfect eyebrow. "Would it have helped?""Maybe!" Rebecca crooked her fingers as though she was looking for someone to strangle. "Not letting me get blindsided by it could've been
useful!"Doctor Mother looked at Contessa and then back to Rebecca. "So, we're
not
going to do anything about the Slaughterhouse Nine member who's now part of the Wards, because another serial killer
put
her there?"Despite how bad it sounded when she said it like that, Keith shook his head. "No. Because Atropos isn't just 'another serial killer'. As you may recall, her kill count includes the
rest
of the Nine, Butcher and the Teeth, most of the Machine Army, the Three Blasphemies, the Simurgh, and apparently the other two Endbringers. Now, she's set her sights on Scion. I'm willing to excuse a lot of dead villains for that.""And don't even try to claim the moral high ground on this one." Kurt still sounded rather amused. "We've done far worse, with less in the way of results, and you know it. Hell,
I
used to be one of the Nine.""But … but …" Doctor Mother sounded frustrated, while at the same time unable to muster a coherent argument. "That's
different!""Different how, exactly?" Keith challenged her. He respected her for her part in forming Cauldron, but her tendency toward double standards didn't sit well with him."It's … I … we …" She stared at him, baffled."The phrase you're looking for is 'it's different for us, because we're the good guys'," Kurt said helpfully. "But that's bullshit. We've hurt innocents. She hasn't. In fact, she's helped a few of the people we hurt. And the fact that Dragon willingly assisted her in this means that Atropos has done something we never managed; or rather, never bothered trying to do. Got her out from under Saint's thumb. Who, exactly, is the good guy here again?"Contessa cleared her throat. "I didn't tell anyone about Miss Medic," she explained, "so that by the time you did find out, she would be established, having already proven herself as a competent and willing healer. Had I mentioned it when she first showed up, you would've been watching her like a hawk for the slightest excuse to swoop in and grab her up. This would probably have irritated Atropos. We want to avoid that."Amen, thought Keith. Pissing off the girl who had taken down the Simurgh with a sawn-off shotgun was not something he wanted to contemplate.Doctor Mother turned her glare toward Contessa. "I thought you disliked Atropos. Since when do we use 'Atropos might get upset with us' as a reason not to do something?""Whether I like her or not is immaterial." Unperturbed, Contessa sipped her coffee again. "I've tried to influence her twice now, and each time she was waiting for me. Neither experience was pleasant. From the evidence to date, not irritating Atropos seems an
excellent
way to not have her peer over your shoulder and ask you what the hell you think you're doing."Kurt nodded toward Doctor Mother. "And just remember, she's said that if she ever has to confront you, she
will
shoot you in the face, on general principles."From the sour expression on her face, she hadn't forgotten."Okay, fine," Rebecca conceded. "I get why you did it that way. Still not happy. But moving on, has anyone heard anything new about Atropos with regards to Sleeper?""Yes, actually," Keith said. "She posted at midnight on PHO. Apparently, she went in there to serve him with a cease and desist. There are hints she may have been injured in the process, but she also said she 'walked it off' with the help of her friends."Kurt facepalmed at that, but he was also chuckling. "Only goddamn Atropos."
<><>
TaylorCherie looked around at the Winslow auditorium and wrinkled her nose. "Doesn't really compare to the Arcadia one, does it? How often do you have school assemblies like this?""Maybe two or three times a year," I said honestly. In the back of my mind, I was keeping track of how Cauldron registered on my threatscape. Despite the fact that Doctor Mother still hated my guts, there were no plans to act against me (or Riley, Amy, or Dragon). Which suited me right down to the ground."Not totally surprising," she snarked. "Hey, isn't that the new principal you shook hands with before?""It is," I agreed as Mrs Howell stepped up to the microphone and tapped it. She and Blackwell both had bleached blonde hair, but that was about as far as it went with resemblance. Everyone quieted down—word had spread that I'd wished her well—and prepared to listen to what she had to say. I knew damn well any hecklers would be suppressed without me needing to do or say anything."Good morning," she said, the aged speakers amplifying her voice with only a little in the way of crackling. "As you are probably aware, Principal Blackwell was escorted out by police before first period exactly one week ago, due to severe irregularities in the way she was running this school. I'm Mrs Howell, your new principal. I do not intend to repeat her mistakes. As such, if anyone is suffering from bullying or other antisocial behaviour, bring it to me. I
will
listen, and I
will
act. We didn't tolerate that in Arcadia, and I will not tolerate it here."She paused to allow the murmur of comments to pass through the audience. Most of the students were cynical, having heard far too many of these promises before, but Cherie nodded slightly. "She means it," she murmured.I smiled slightly. "I know." If Mrs Howell had been principal when I'd started at Winslow, things may have turned out quite differently for me. But, spilt milk and all that."In addition, as you know, Spring Break is coming up next week. You will need to remove all belongings from lockers, and leave nothing in the school. This is because starting on Friday afternoon, the Brockton Bay Betterment Committee will be renovating the entire school from top to bottom. We're getting all new equipment, all new facilities. The last workers will be walking out on Monday morning as we're coming in."There was stunned silence for a moment, then a roar of approval. We'd all seen how the Betterment Committee workers replaced entire streets overnight, or pulled down buildings and put up
better
ones in just days. I'd known this was coming, but the idea of Winslow being revamped in this way still gave me a little thrill.
I did this. This is me.Mrs Howell beamed at us all. "I'm glad to hear that you approve. Now, I'll let you get back to home room and enjoy the rest of your day. Thank you all for listening."The applause started as she stepped down off the podium, and didn't cease until after she'd left by the rear door of the auditorium. As we began to disperse back to our classrooms, I knew that only part of it had been due to my earlier gesture of welcoming her. Most of the response was genuine, actually accepting her as their principal.Good.
It was about time the place had someone in charge who actually wanted to do their job.
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■
PRIVATE MESSAGETo:
Director_Renick_PRT_ENEFrom:
AtroposSubject:
Regarding Miss MedicHi. Imma need to borrow her (and Tenebrae, of course) this afternoon to close the deal with Sleeper. I'll be around about three-thirty-ish, with Panacea and Glory Girl.
■
PRIVATE MESSAGETo:
TheRealPanaceaFrom:
AtroposSubject:
Can I borrow you?So hey, I need to go and deal with Sleeper this afternoon, just after three. Are you up for another collab with Miss Medic? You worked together pretty well last time. And yes, if Vicky wants to come along, she's welcome.
■
PRIVATE MESSAGETo:
AtroposFrom:
Director_Renick_PRT_ENESubject:
Re: Regarding Miss MedicI'll have them both in my office at that time.Thanks for the heads-up, and thanks for dealing with Sleeper.May I ask what he's going to choose?
■
PRIVATE MESSAGETo:
AtroposFrom:
TheRealPanaceaSubject:
Re: Can I borrow you?You already know I'm going to say yes. Vicky's shaking her head in the background, but I know she's going to want to come along anyway.See you then.
■
PRIVATE MESSAGETo:
Director_Renick_PRT_ENEFrom:
AtroposSubject:
Re: Re: Regarding Miss MedicThat would be telling.Thanks for this.Toodles!
■
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N 1: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.][A/N 2: There will be racist thought processes from a racist character. These are not shared by the author.]
PRT ENE Wards Base, 2:45 PMPaladin"Does Atropos ask for you to go do stuff with her very often?" asked Theo. To make it easier to talk to the others, he'd left the helmet off and put on a domino mask. The sofa was evidently constructed with armoured people in mind, because it only sagged a little more than normal under him. "As opposed to rescuing us when we're kidnapped, I mean.""Not a lot," admitted Riley. "There
was
the Damsel of Distress thing. Brian came along on that one, and so did Panacea and Flechette. Oh, and the Travellers thing, too.""She
didn't take you along that time," Brian reminded her. "She
asked
you to do it because she was busy doing something else.""But it was still something she needed me to do." Riley gave Brian a defiant look, daring him to contradict her."Are you worried that she's going to put Riley in danger?" Brian asked Theo. "Because as far as I'm concerned, that's not an issue. I'm just not a fan of murder being her go-to, is all.""Oh, it's not that." Theo shook his head. "I know it sounds stupid, but her asking for just you to come along with Riley feels a little bit like I'm second best and I don't count.""No, no, that's not it at all." Brian put his hand on Theo's armoured shoulder. "I'm Riley's official caregiver. It's literally my job to be next to her whenever she's in public as Miss Medic. When she goes out and about with Atropos and I tag along, I'm about as much use as an outboard motor on an ocean liner, but I do it anyway because it keeps the PRT happy and Atropos doesn't care either way."Theo blinked. "Oh. I didn't think about it that way."Riley looked up at him keenly. "Something's still bothering you, isn't it?" Getting up from the sofa, she tilted her head toward the back of the Wards area. "Come on, let's talk."He wasn't quite sure what was going on, but he stood up anyway, his armour's servos humming briefly. Obediently, he followed her down the corridor until they reached the room she was using to store and develop her medical gear. Standing in the doorway, she looked up at him contemplatively until he became uncomfortable. "What?" he asked. "Have I got something on my face?"She shook her head. "No. I'm just trying to figure out how to tell you just how much I admire you, and that you shouldn't beat yourself up so much." Her tone was serious, a world away from her usual chirpy, upbeat manner, which threw him off even more than it normally would have."… what?" He shook his head. "Seriously, what? I'm nobody to
admire. I didn't earn this armour. I didn't
make
it. This metal's been tainted by two generations of neo-Nazis, and I don't know if I'll ever be able to do enough to make up for the damage Kaiser and Allfather did to this city and its people."She tilted her head to one side. "It's funny that you jumped straight to your powers when I talked about admiring you. A lot of people make that mistake about heroes, thinking their powers are why they should be looked up to.""Okay, then," he said cautiously. "I clearly have no idea what you're talking about. Could you please enlighten me before I make an even bigger idiot out of myself than I already have?"She giggled briefly. "Theo, the main reason I admire you is that you did something I never could have. Tell me, how old were you when you decided you didn't want to be a racist jerk like your father and his associates?""Um." The shift in topic put him off-guard again. "Seven or eight, I guess. I hadn't really understood things, but then I saw something on TV that made me realise that Max's policies made him the bad guy. When he found out I didn't want to be what he was, he pushed harder and harder, but I couldn't just
pretend.
It ended up being easier to not react.""So, to sum up, you spent maybe seven years of your life with a bunch of racist creeps trying to push their ideology down your throat, and you held out all that time. Is that about right?" Her expression, as far as he could make it out, was sympathetic."I wouldn't say I 'held out'," he said weakly. "That makes me sound a lot tougher than I was. I just didn't … do what he wanted, I guess."Riley took a deep breath. "Okay, what I'm about to tell you, nobody in this building except for Brian knows. Atropos, Panacea, and Aisha are also in the know. Plus, Dragon. That's it. Okay?" As if acting on an afterthought, she unstrapped her helmet and removed it."Okay …" he said uncertainly.Before speaking, she glanced around to make sure there was nobody nearby. Instinctively, he formed his helmet over his head and looked around as well, activating the infrared scanning. There were no heat traces nearby at all. Sending the helmet away again, he gave her an encouraging nod.She took another breath, then spoke so quietly that he had to lean in to hear her voice. "I wasn't born Riley Laborn. I was born Riley Davis, a blonde-haired white girl. And when I was six, I got powers. Not long after that, Jack Slash kicked my parents' front door in. The Slaughterhouse Nine tortured my family over and over until they broke me. I let my family die, and I went away with Jack Slash. It took
one night."He stared at her, puzzle pieces clicking together in his head with ever-increasing speed. If she was telling the truth, with her powerset, there was only one person she could be. "But that means … you're B—""I
was," she hissed so sharply that he cut off what he was about to say. "I was her for six long years. I
became
her. Jack Slash wanted me to be his little pet killer, so that's what I was. But then Atropos came along, destroyed the Nine, and killed the monster in my head. Now I'm not her anymore. Panacea gave me a new face, Dragon gave me a new name, and Atropos gave me a new family.""Jeeesus," he muttered, feeling light-headed. "I mean, okay, I believe you. And if Atropos says you're safe then you're safe. But why are you telling me this
now? Do I even need to know it?""Well, everyone else in the apartment does, so now we're all on the same page." She put her hand on his arm. "But I didn't tell you because of that. I told you because I know better than anyone what you've been through. Sure, Jack Slash had unfair advantages, but he still broke me in one night. Your dad and his racist buddies didn't manage to break you in
seven years.
And that's why I admire you. You've got strength inside you that you don't even know about.""I … what?" He shook his head, confused. "No, I don't. I'm not strong. Ask anyone. I'm a powder-puff. I'll fold at the first strong breeze. That's why I've got to have armour around me, so I can—"Now she was laughing quietly, shaking her head. He stopped, confused."You're a lot of things, Theo Anders, but you're no powder-puff. And I'm guessing it was people like Hookwolf who said you're weak?""Well …" He'd been told it so many times that he'd basically internalised it as truth, and it was hard to pin down exactly who had said it. But among the blur of faces jeering at him from his sea of memory, the tattooed cape showed up with his characteristic sneer. "Um, yeah. Among others."She smiled and rapped on his metal chest-plate with her knuckle, eliciting a tiny
clong.
"Take it from me, when people like that say you're 'weak', you should take it as a compliment. To them, an accusation of weakness is the ultimate insult, so they use it as one. You not wanting to be a violent person or a racist jerk is weak in their eyes, because to them you don't have the 'stomach' for it. People like that are incapable of seeing the strength it takes to keep saying no, instead of surrendering and becoming what they want you to be. I wasn't strong enough. You
were."Theo blinked, his head spinning. In just a few sentences, Riley—who had been
Bonesaw, and wasn't
that
a kick in the teeth—had turned his entire worldview upside down and inside out. She'd been the worst of villains and now she was the best of heroes—thanks to Atropos—and she was telling him that
she
admired
him
for his fortitude.It sure as hell hadn't felt like fortitude at the time. He hadn't felt like a hero. It had been nothing but a long dreary slog from one day to the next, never quite knowing what extra load Max was going to pile on him to make him 'come around' to the Empire way of seeing things.The difference between that and his tenure so far in the Laborn household had been far beyond that of night and day. Between chained in the darkest of stygian pits and a glorious summer day strolling on the Boardwalk, maybe. They didn't try to force him down, they lifted him up and encouraged him to express himself. To
be
himself.Kayden had tried to let him be a teenager and find his voice, but even she couldn't go too far without Max putting his foot down hard.I wish she could meet them. Surely she'd change her mind about minorities if she knew how good they are to me.Taking a deep breath, he focused on the here and now. "Okay, wow, point taken. This is all gonna need to be unpacked once we get home, but for now I'll take your word for it and think about what you've said."Back to her normal self, she gave him a beaming smile. "That's all I ask. You're a better person than you think, really."Theo was still trying to think of something to say to that when he spotted Brian coming toward them. "Sorry to break up whatever this is, but it's time.""It's all good. We were about done, anyway." Riley gave Theo a serious look. "Think about what I said. I meant it.""Right." Theo watched as she put her helmet on and fastened the strap, then hustled away along the corridor with Brian.Well, shit. How the hell am I supposed to handle
that?
<><>
Panacea"But Sleeper? Seriously? You saw what he did to Atropos, and neither one of us is Atropos! We shouldn't be going anywhere
near
him!"Amy sighed in mild aggravation at her sister. "She wouldn't be inviting us along if it wasn't safe. Besides, every time you've found out about me going somewhere with her, you complained for days about being left out.""I did not!"Amy raised her eyebrows and gave Vicky a Look, copied straight off Carol at her most forceful."Well, okay, yeah, but only because
anything
could've happened to you!""Hah, yeah, right. Like anyone's gonna get close to me with Atropos on the lookout."Vicky paused at that, and Amy grinned internally. She was right, and Vicky had to know she was right. In dealing with Atropos, there were three rock-solid certainties.One: if Atropos planned on something happening, it was absolutely going to happen.Two: if Atropos set out to End someone, they were already dead. That they were still walking around and breathing was strictly a temporary state of affairs. This was just as true for Bonesaw as it was for the Simurgh.Three: if Atropos chose to protect someone, they were the safest person on the planet. This had been proven by Miss Medic and the other two unnamed hostages that Goddess had grabbed to keep Atropos under her thumb. Not only had Atropos Ended Goddess' powers and her reign, but she'd also brought all three hostages home, safe and sound. (It didn't hurt that she'd known it was going to happen a day
before
it actually did.)On consideration, Amy added a fourth one: there were
no
lengths Atropos—Taylor—would not go to, in order to get things done the right way, every time. From setting up an elaborate trap to skewer Kaiser through the eye with his own stolen sword, to getting herself severely injured just so she could deliver a warning to Sleeper, she'd demonstrated that in spades, over and over again. Even down to provoking Vicky online so that she would attack Atropos on sight, thus giving Atropos a temporary hold over Amy herself, to facilitate turning Bonesaw into Miss Medic … the chain of events was inescapable.Not that Amy resented what Taylor had done. In hindsight, her talks with the masked killer had opened up new possibilities in all directions, not even counting the
fascinating
adventures Atropos had taken her on. At the time she hadn't seen it that way, but since then her viewpoint had expanded somewhat.Vicky hadn't finished, however. "So, why do you think she wants me to come along this time? There's got to be
some
kind of danger, or she'd probably kick me to the curb all over again."Amy raised her eyebrows. "Do you honestly think anything out there's going to pose a danger that she
can't
deal with? I agree that there's probably a reason, but it's almost certainly not your ability to punch things.""And you'd be right," Atropos commented, stepping around Vicky. Clad from head to toe in black, with just the gray vest and white shirt to break the monotony, she looked as though the previous day had never happened. "Nice to see you both. And thanks again for yesterday."Vicky had either been waiting for something like this or she'd learned some phenomenal self-control, because she neither startled nor yelped in surprise. Though when she turned her head to look, she frowned mightily. "Okay, there's no way in hell you fixed your costume from the mess it was in when you left. We've still got pieces of it here, for crying out loud!""Oh, you mean my
spare
costume?" asked Atropos innocently. "Yeah, that one's trashed. This one here's the original." She took hold of the side of the long-coat and spread it outward. "If you look closely, you can see where the Machine Army put some laser holes through the coat while I was explaining the facts of life to them."Peering carefully, Amy just barely made out dots of light through the black material. "Huh, holy shit, so I can.""So why didn't you use this coat yesterday, and keep the new one?" asked Vicky. "It's totally what I would've done."Atropos shrugged. "I like this one better.""Exactly," Amy added.
Atropos
understood this sort of thing. "It's cooler this way. Like if Armsmaster left little tiny scrapes on his armour when he threw down with someone.""But … he doesn't.""Which is why Atropos will always be cooler than Armsmaster." Amy smirked at her sister. "As if it needed to be said."Atropos chuckled. "As much as I value your approval, are you ready to roll?""Absolutely." Amy patted her jeans and tapped the toe of her sturdiest sneakers on the floor, then tugged at the jacket she was wearing. Atropos hadn't
said
they were going to Russia, but Amy could connect the dots as well as anyone else."Before we go," Vicky piped up, "if you don't need me for punching, what
do
you need me for?""Your diplomatic skills. Four seconds." Atropos snapped her fingers, and the portal appeared in the bedroom."What?""Four seconds!" Amy yelled and jumped through the portal, into what turned out to be the Director's office in the PRT building. Atropos followed close behind, then about half a second later Vicky zoomed through, feet off the ground. The portal closed soundlessly behind her.Director Renick looked around from where he was speaking to Tenebrae and Miss Medic. "Ah, there she is now."
<><>
Five Minutes EarlierTenebrae"So, what was that about with Paladin?" Brian was pretty sure they weren't being bugged in the elevator, and the PRT knew Theo's secret identity anyway, but it was a good habit to maintain."I'll tell you when we get home." Riley was even more close-mouthed than he was about things like that. This wasn't entirely unexpected, seeing how she'd been a cape for years longer than him.They stepped out of the elevator and headed down the corridor toward Director Renick's office. Brian considered him to be a fair man, not as bloody-minded as Piggot, but that wasn't entirely unexpected, considering her history and the way Brockton Bay had been heading before Atropos stepped in. While Renick definitely would've been out of his depth in the pre-Atropos era, these days the city was downright peaceful. Prosperity was a new and bizarre look for Brockton Bay, but a welcome one.He paused and knocked on the office door, then opened it when he heard the "Come in," from within. Stepping aside, he allowed Riley to enter first out of basic courtesy (he didn't
think
she'd follow Aisha's advice of kicking him in the shins if he didn't, but one never knew) then followed her in."Good afternoon, sir," he said. "How are you today?""Ah, Tenebrae, Miss Medic." The Director stood up and came around the desk to shake both their hands. "It's been a good day. The only surprise was when Atropos messaged me to ask if she could borrow your services. I had no reason to deny her request, and several compelling ones to do as she asked." He looked at Riley. "I understand you gave Emily an examination while you were in New York. May I ask how the prognosis for that is going?"Riley bounced a little on her toes. "Really good. Like I told her, putting in new kidneys wouldn't be any trouble at all. Same with her calf muscles. I've got the tissues cloning right now. It should actually be ready to go by the time Shebang finishes sourcing those rare earths she wanted for her reverse-time bomb.""Excellent, excellent." The Director went back around his desk and sat down. "And do you think the dual-bomb concept will work?"Riley spread her hands. "Well, my power really doesn't mesh much with hers, so I can't say for sure. But the idea's sound, and she managed to nullify Clockblocker's freeze effect, so she's actually pretty good at what she does. I'd give it a really strong 'probably'."Director Renick chuckled. "I've been working in this building for more years than I want to count, and that's the clearest explanation of a Tinker's work that I've heard yet. By this point they're starting to veer off into their own personalised jargon, and it's already well over my head and gaining altitude.""Yeah, well," said Brian, "I never ask any Tinker questions about their stuff or their work. I do my thing and they do their thing, and never the twain shall meet.""That's probably for the best," agreed Renick. "I—wait."He broke off as the smoky gray portal appeared at the far side of the office. For a second or so, nothing happened, then Panacea burst through, followed by Atropos. Just a fraction before Brian's personal countdown of four seconds ended, Glory Girl zipped through, hovering in midair as the portal closed behind her."Ah," said the Director. "There she is now." He came around his desk again. "Good afternoon, ladies. Panacea, I know you've met Miss Medic and Tenebrae. Have you, Glory Girl?""Don't think so." Glory Girl stepped forward, her hand out. "Hi, I'm Panacea's punchier sister. It's good to meet my sister's other teammates, I guess."Brian knew he should be just rolling with it, but the memory flashed across his mind of Glory Girl's face contorted with anger as she repeatedly tried to attack Atropos in the park. Atropos had had the whole situation entirely under control, he knew that, but she'd still been reckless as
fuck, and she'd seriously endangered Aisha's life and well-being, just so she could play at being a hero. His jaw set as he spoke the mildest phrase that was boiling through his head right then. "We've met.""Oh, okay." She paused, taking in his attitude and frowning. "Did I diss you at a meet and greet or something? Look, if I did that, I'm totally sorry. Things can get pretty hectic—""Not at a meet and greet. Westlake Park." His eyes bored into hers. "You destroyed a picnic table. Ring any bells?""Whoa, hey." Panacea had evidently twigged to what he was talking about. "We do not need to get into any of that. You've got a secret identity to protect."From the way Glory Girl's face paled, she remembered all too well. "Shit. That was
you?" Her gaze dropped to Riley. "And the girl—""Was not Miss Medic." He shook his head, then looked at Panacea. "Thanks, but I think it's safe with you two. Am I right?""Oh, you're absolutely right." Panacea elbowed her sister. "Go on, Vicky. Apologise to the man. He's totally earned it."Glory Girl nodded. "Yeah, that's true, you have. And so's the other girl. I was an idiot, and I'm sorry for going off half-cocked like that. I've been really working at cleaning up my act since then." She paused, then corrected herself. "Since tall, dark and scary there wiped out the Nine. That was a wake-up call like no other, and I've been doing my best to listen to it.""Tall, dark and scary," mused Atropos. "I kinda like that."Riley giggled. "Nah, doesn't suit you at
all."Atropos snorted, then pointed a finger at her. "You
have been spending far too much time with your cousin. Keep it up. I approve." She then turned to look at Brian. "Okay, you have your apology. Are you good now?"Brian looked at Glory Girl for a moment longer to consider it, then held out his hand. Without any hesitation, she gave it a firm shake. He nodded. "I'm good now.""Excellent." Atropos dusted her hands off. "So, we're going to come out in the middle of the night, in the countryside. It's going to be dark, and cold. Then we'll be doing some walking." She evidently took in Panacea's rugged clothing, and nodded approvingly. "It looks like
someone
thought ahead."Panacea shrugged awkwardly, apparently not used to praise. "What can I say? Associating with you has been an exercise in expecting the unexpected. I've been trying to learn how to think on my feet.""Excuse me, not wanting to be That Girl, but why do we need to do some walking?" asked Glory Girl. "Can't you put us right where we need to go?""I am." Atropos was not at all fazed by the question. "Where we need to go is a couple of minutes' walking distance from our final location. You'll see when we get there."Panacea turned to look at her sister. "Oh, and one thing. When Atropos says 'four seconds', she doesn't mean 'this is the time to ask me what I mean'. She means 'we have four seconds to get through the portal before it shuts'.""Yeah, yeah, I got that," Glory Girl huffed. "What happens if someone's halfway through the portal when it shuts? Do you get spat out either end?""I have no idea," Atropos said, in a tone that meant 'I know exactly what happens'. "Maybe you can ask one of the Blasphemies. They might have a better idea."Brian was initially confused, then he recalled that one of them had been decapitated while in flight, at altitude. From the look on Glory Girl's face, she made the connection at the same time. "Oh.""Yup." Atropos held up her hand. "Me first, then Panacea, Miss Medic, Tenebrae, and Glory Girl last. Got it?"For a reply, she got a series of nods, as every eye in the room—Renick's included—was focused on her hand."Good. Four seconds." Then she snapped her fingers, and the portal opened before them.
<><>
Meanwhile, in New YorkScribeLife was unfair, as far as Tammi was concerned. She should've been living large in Brockton Bay, with the Empire Eighty-Eight behind her and a life of luxury before her. But instead she'd had to run for her life, get caught when her two so-called partners ditched her and bolted (so much for Empire Eighty-Eight solidarity), and bullshit as hard as she could to not get sent back to juvey.It didn't help that Miss Hardass Piggy refused to give her any semblance of the benefit of the doubt. The woman didn't let up for an instant, never actually treating her badly enough to call Youth Guard in on it (Kaiser had taught her all about the concept of 'useful idiots') but not slacking off on her either. It had been a lot easier under Wilkins, saying and doing the right things while the Director was around, letting the woman convince herself that Tammi was on the road to rehabilitation.The people she was most annoyed with (apart from Piggy) were Flechette and Shebang. The bomb Tinker was still unsure of her place in the Wards, and Tammi was willing to put some work into making sure the slant-eye knew she was at the bottom of the totem pole, where she and all her kind belonged. Flechette still hadn't gotten that message, and Tammi kind of wished Cricket or someone like that was around to deliver it for her, because she knew for damn sure she'd get her lily-white ass handed to her in a sling if
she
tried.With these thoughts running through her mind, Tammi brightened as she saw Shebang ahead of her, meandering along with her head down, tapping away on a tablet. Flechette might be damn near untouchable (in Tammi's mind, she'd just gotten lucky that Atropos picked her to go to Australia to gank the Simurgh) but Shebang was still fair game. Moving faster, Tammi came up behind the Tinker and shoulder-checked her hard enough to make her drop the tablet."Watch it, slope … oke," she jeered, finally pleased to have been able to use that particular insult as Shebang stumbled, her tablet clattering to the floor. With any luck, the useless bitch would've broken it and Piggy would make her pay for another one."Scribe!" She froze in mid-sneer as the shout came from behind her. "Not another move!"Turning, she looked at Flechette as the taller girl—weren't Japs all supposed to be about five feet tall or something?—strode toward her, anger writ large on her face. "What?" she asked as innocently as she could manage. "She stepped in my way.""I did not!" Shebang picked up the tablet from the ground, then gave Tammi a disgusted look. "You had the whole corridor to walk past me, and you ran straight into me.""That's what I saw, too." Flechette's tone was implacable. "And I also heard what you said.""What?" Tammi spread her hands.
All I have to do is say I never said it.
"I said she was being slow.""You called her a slowpoke," Flechette countered. "Except you put just enough of a pause in there so you could call her a racist slur and pretend it never happened. Your problem is, I heard it.""Prove it," challenged Tammi. "It's your word against mine.""Um, plus the audio diary I was recording when you ran into me," Shebang added. "I wonder if Director Piggot will want to listen to that?""You know," mused Flechette. "I think she might.""Fuck you both!" shouted Tammi. "You're setting things up to have me chucked back in juvey!" She turned and stormed off down the hallway. Maybe it was a good time to contact the local Youth Guard rep after all.
<><>
FlechetteLily watched her go, then turned to Shebang. "You okay?" she asked. "She ran into you pretty hard just then.""I'll be fine." Shebang gave her a smile. "I appreciate the save. Are you really going to report this to the Director?""I will if you want me to." Lily looked at the tablet. "Were you really recording an audio diary?"Shebang shook her head. "No, but she was never going to call me on it." She thought for a second. "She's right, you know. I didn't actually hear what she said, and it'll be your word against hers."Lily snorted. "My word against someone with known white supremacist leanings, you mean. But we don't have to actually go and report it if you don't want to. She'll think we are, so she's gonna jump every time anyone talks to her for the next few days."Shebang's chuckle was remarkably evil. "She'll punish herself worse than the Director would. I like it. Let's do that." She held up her hand.Lily gave her a high-five, then looked at the tablet. "So, what are you working on? Is it that bomb for the Gray Boy loops?""That's the one. Do you mind if I use you as a sounding board?""Feel free."They started off down the corridor. "So, I need to integrate this process here …"
<><>
ScribeStill fuming about the way they were totally stitching her up, Tammi dropped into her chair and hit the power button for her computer. She hadn't gotten on to it over the last few days—it wasn't like she had anyone to chat to online who wasn't part of her criminal past, and her account on PHO as Rune had been thoroughly locked—so when it finished booting up, a whole bunch of emails (mainly spam) and other alerts pinged off all at once. She considered deleting all the emails and crap, but decided to look through them just in case.Part way through, one showed up that made her straighten in the chair. It was a PHO private message, but with a header that had to be for her.Who the hell's pinging me?
<><>
■
PRIVATE MESSAGETo:
Viking ScriptFrom:
Like MindedSubject:
A Change of SceneryGood afternoon,Would you be interested in discussing the above?I and my friends are very good at what we do, and think you would be a good match for us.Your thoughts on the matter?
■
PRIVATE MESSAGETo:
Like MindedFrom:
Viking ScriptSubject:
Re: A Change of SceneryI'm listening.
■
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
Glory Girl
Atropos hadn't been kidding.
It was
freezing.
Vicky wasn't sure what time it was, except for 'somewhere near midnight'; heck, she wasn't even sure what
time zone
they were in. All she knew was that the only light was from the moon—nearly full, thank God, and almost directly overhead—and the stars.
There were a
lot
of stars.
Fortunately, her force field cut the effect of the wind somewhat as they followed a rough path up a hill. There were no trees nearby capable of doing it for her; those few she could make out in the moonlight had been whittled down to stubs by what she suspected was Sleeper's power. Her shiver had nothing to do with the cold. She had faith in her force field, but it could stop an attack
once, as Atropos had so handily demonstrated not all that long ago.
Which reminded her of a question she'd been wondering about in the privacy of her mind.
Well, no time like the present.
"Hey, Atropos, just out of curiosity, how many other people have you had to pull up for doing remarkably stupid shit, and was anyone else as bad as me?"
Atropos chuckled. "Oh, honey. You aren't even in the top ten."
"What?" It was simultaneously deflating and encouraging.
I'm not actually the biggest idiot in the city!
"Hah, yeah," Miss Medic piped up from beside Tenebrae. "Goddess has to be up there."
"She definitely was," agreed Atropos. "Also, Janice Templeton and Paul King."
There was a pause, during which Vicky tried to remember if she'd ever heard those names before, because they seemed to ring a bell. Just as she was concluding that she'd been mistaken, Amy spoke up. "They were in the hospital, right? Traumatic amputation and blinding?"
"That's them," agreed Atropos. "She was actively trying to divert funds from the Betterment Committee stimulus payments, and he was attempting to sabotage the drug rehab program so he could pull some of that cash into his own pockets. They were both warned, but chose not to listen. Danny Hebert asked me not to kill them, so instead I chopped off their right hands and gouged their eyes out. Haven't had a problem since."
"I can't imagine why not." Tenebrae's tone was remarkably dry.
Miss Medic snapped her fingers. "Wait, that was back in January, right? Maybe a week after I got into town. I was still finding my feet then."
Part of Vicky's mind wanted to protest that the casual maiming of two people should not be relegated to such banal conversation, but she firmly told it that she didn't want her ass kicked
again, and as Atropos had just said, she could've done much, much worse to them (and to be fair, it had been anything but 'casual'). Also … "Well, okay, yeah, trying to scam money out of the Betterment Committee is about the stupidest idea I've heard yet, and I've heard some good ones."
"They were only mid-level stupid." Atropos' tone sounded like she was reminiscing now. "Surely you remember the Scrapyard plot?"
"Oh. Oh, shit." Vicky remembered it, alright. While she was now aware that Atropos was Taylor Hebert, she hadn't really made that last connection. "When they kidnapped the Hebert girl for ransom? Oh, man. How fucking stupid do you have to be?"
"Really, really stupid." Amy snorted. "Actually, wasn't there a thing when you were dealing with the Gary quarantine area, and a bunch of kid villains attacked you?"
"Bambina, Starlet and August Prince, yeah." Atropos sounded like she was rolling her eyes. "I wasn't even really counting them. Kids do idiotic things all the time, with or without powers."
Tenebrae chuckled, his voice deep and rich. "I can't help wondering what the reaction would be if you went back in time and told someone, say this time last year, what the city was like now. What sort of evidence would you have to bring along to make them believe you?"
"Never happen." As a Brockton Bay native, Vicky considered herself an authority on the subject. "It wouldn't matter what evidence you had, they just wouldn't accept it. The idea would be too far out of their wheelhouse to even get their heads around."
"Mmm." Amy sounded doubtful. "Some of it's
kind of
believable, with a bit of a run-up."
"Duck season," Vicky said flatly.
"Okay, yeah, good point."
By now they were walking along the crest of the hill, which was doing exactly nothing to reduce the local wind-chill effect. Vicky privately made a date with the tub, involving lots of hot water and bubble-bath. Atropos lifted her arm, vaguely visible because it was darker than everything else, and pointed.
A few hundred yards away, Vicky saw, was a small farmhouse; more importantly, light was shining out through the window. Light, she hoped, equalled warmth. This was important, because she was well on the way to becoming a spandex-clad iceblock.
"As you've probably figured out," Atropos informed them, "he's in there. Now, we're going to walk up all nice and peaceful and knock on the door. Specific things to note: one, do
not
touch any pieces of paper that might be lying around the place. Two, Vicky, this is when we need your 'love me' aura up and running. He's a bit twitchy, and if he's startled, it might go very badly for either him or us."
"Um …" The last thing Vicky wanted to do was say no to Atropos, but she also didn't want to lie. "I can't actually do that. Set my aura to 'friendly', I mean. It's dependent on what people think of me."
Atropos turned until she was looking directly at Vicky. "Yes," she said. "You can." In a seemingly casual motion, she slapped Vicky on the shoulder. "It's amazing what you can do when you really try."
What the hell was that?
Just for a moment, Atropos' tone had given her the impression that something was zipping around inside her brain, looking for the person in charge, because if things didn't start happening soon, shit was going to get
real.
The sensation went away, but the memory lingered.
"Okay, wow." Miss Medic shook her head. "How did you manage all those overtones and undertones?"
"Same way I do everything else," Atropos said blithely. "With panache and style. And sometimes, the power of friendship." She started down the hill toward the farmhouse. "Remember, everyone, just play it calm. Vicky, aura."
Vicky took a deep breath of the freezing air and released her aura, concentrating on
friendly … friendly … friendly …
To her surprise, it was somewhat easier than she'd expected.
<><>
Aisha
When the key turned in the front door, Aisha stashed her textbook under a cushion (couldn't let people think she was getting all nerdy and uncool) before she popped up off the sofa. The door opened to reveal Theo in the company of Mrs Brown, though for some reason Brian and Riley weren't there. "Heyyy," she said happily. "How's my kickass brother-from-another-mother?"
"Hi, Aisha." Theo dropped his backpack beside the door and returned her hug; she wasn't really a huggy person, but Riley had started it, and he
was
a pretty good hugger. "I'm doing okay, how was your day?" He turned to Mrs Brown, who was standing at the doorway watching the interplay. "Oh, sorry, did you want to come in and look around?"
Mrs Brown smiled maternally. "That's fine, Theo. It all looks good from here. You're okay here, Aisha? No problems?"
Aisha figured it was safe to roll her eyes. "What, like being kidnapped by a cape with delusions of adequacy from another dimension? Nah, nothing like that. I only got home a little while ago myself."
"Yes, well, I had trouble believing it myself when I first heard about it. I'll see you on the next inspection." She gave them each a nod, then pulled the door shut as she stepped back out of the doorway.
Aisha took the time to secure the lock—they were a lot more careful about that since the Goddess incident, especially given that Theo was still under potential risk from the remnants of the Empire Eighty-Eight—then turned to him. "So, where's Bri and Ri? The Atropos thing? Did you see her? Did she say something to you?"
Theo shook his head, looking a bit distracted. "No, sorry. They went up to the Director's office to wait for her there, and I got off duty shortly after that and got a lift home with Mrs Brown."
"Then what's biting you on the ass, big guy?" Aisha lifted her hand and rapped him gently on the forehead. "Something's fucking with your head, and if it's not Atropos laying down the law, I need to know what it is so I can hunt it down and kick
its
ass."
"It's, ah …" Theo grimaced. "Come on, I need to do something." He led the way into the kitchenette, and turned on the faucets over the sink until they were both running strongly. Then he leaned closer to her and said quietly, "Do you think they're listening in on us, here?"
She looked at the running water and then at him, the penny finally dropping. "Surveillance? Geez, I dunno. They'd have to break a
ton
of laws to do it." While she didn't
think
they'd go that far, this
was
the PRT. They'd been known to bend a few laws before, if some of the comments on PHO were to be believed. "What's this about, anyway?"
"Riley." He took a deep breath. "I, um, I was feeling a bit down, so she wanted to cheer me up. She told me about where she really came from, and how she ended up with you guys." After an expectant pause, where Aisha said nothing, he took the plunge. "Right after Atropos killed off the Nine and took Bonesaw away. And just a little while later, the Brockton Bay PRT got a Ward with the exact same powerset, only with a different name, face and personality."
Aisha nodded, satisfied that he wasn't just fishing. "Yeah, that's what happened. I mean, you
know
her. She's
Riley.
Miss Medic isn't Bonesaw."
"No, that's true. She isn't." Theo heaved a massive sigh. "But when she finished telling me all about that, she said she
admired
me, for not breaking under Max the same way she broke under Jack. Riley told me that.
Our
Riley. How am I supposed to deal with that?"
She gave him a stern look. "Well, first off, I hope you're not going to be treating her any differently, now that you know. When Atropos kills someone, they stay dead, and that includes Bonesaw. Yeah?"
He nodded. "Well, yeah. She's still Riley. It's more the whole thing about someone who's been through what she has admiring someone like me. I'm not … I mean, why admire
me? Does she even know how much I admire
her, for going through all that and still being strong? Especially now I know what she
really
went through?"
"She knows you think a lot of her, sure." Aisha tilted her head. "Though it's okay for her to admire you at the same time. It's not a one-way street, even though I bet your shit of a dad tried hard to make sure all the admiration went to him, and none to anyone else."
His chuckle was reluctant but sounded genuine. "Yeah. That's about as good a descriptor of the man as anything else. He lived for the kudos."
"Given that he named himself after an emperor, I have no idea why you might think that." She snorted and rolled her eyes, then got serious again. "But if Riley saw something worth admiring in you—and to be honest, she's not wrong—then it's not your job to tell her it's not there. It's your job to live up to it." She reached out and turned off the streams of water running down the sink. "I think that's enough testing of the water pressure, don't you?"
"Yeah, true." He leaned on the bench and shook his head. "I just don't feel like I've … well, like I've earned it, you know? Like I'm stealing someone else's glory."
"That's not what's happening here." Aisha wasn't sure how to break through his negativity, or even if it was possible. Then she had an idea. "But you know what? Let's leave this alone for the moment. I've got something a lot better in mind. Back in a sec. Meet me in the living room."
<><>
Paladin
Theo watched her hustle away toward her bedroom and frowned.
What's she up to now?
He knew by now that asking her would help very little, so he headed around into the living room, pausing to grab a cookie from the fridge. Plonking himself down on the sofa, he settled back to see what Aisha had planned.
Sure enough, she came out just a few moments later, holding up a brightly wrapped package, about the size of a paperback book. "So, you know how you and Ri got kidnapped by Goddess, yeah?"
"As if I could forget." He eyed the package. It had been inexpertly but enthusiastically wrapped, which gave him a fairly good idea who had done the deed.
She grinned, evidently aware of his interest, and waved it around just outside his reach. "So me and Bri were going to buy you welcome-to-the-apartment presents, and Riley had already told us what she wanted to get you. But when we came back and found the door kicked in and you guys gone, we kind of forgot about the presents in the fuss. Since then, we've been waiting for the right time, but screw it. Here's mine. The others can give you theirs when they get back."
"Wow." He carefully chose to not mention how Riley had spilled the beans.
I thought they'd forgotten.
Accepting the present, he knew immediately that it wasn't a book, from how light it was. So he tore off the wrapping, being as neat as he could, getting some tiny measure of revenge on Aisha for her teasing by taking his time while she jiggled on her toes. "Thank you. I mean it."
"Yeah, yeah, you're welcome. Now come on, open it up. I wanna see what you think of it."
He
was
getting more curious by the second, so he hurried himself a little more, eventually exposing a game disc case. As he turned it around to look at the front, he couldn't help laughing out loud from sheer disbelief. "Wait, you actually got me
Wolfenstein?"
She bounced on her toes again, grinning broadly. "It'll totally play in our setup, too."
Theo involuntarily looked over at the game console, nestled under the TV. They didn't break out the controllers all that often, but it was fun when they did. "You got me a game about shooting the crap out of Nazis. Holy shit."
"Yup. Wanna have a game?"
His grin had to be as broad as hers. "Oh, hell
yes."
And if he mentally assigned some of the bad guys names from the Empire, that was entirely his business.
<><>
Atropos
I could feel the constant tiny background buzz from Vicky's aura in my head, but my power was converting it to white noise rather than let me feel the good vibrations that everyone else was experiencing. Strolling up to the farmhouse, I knocked on the door. It wasn't in the best of shape, but courtesy is underrated.
A moment later, he opened it. I could see the twitchiness in his eyes that indicated his power bridging over brain malfunctions as they happened, but he wasn't exerting it outward at all, which was smart of him. This meant he'd read the note and made his choice; either to lose his power or accept exile to a world where he couldn't hurt anyone. I wasn't sure which one it was, but there was a fifty percent chance I'd need Amy and Riley, so I'd brought them along.
"Hi," I said; or rather, my lips uttered a word that my power translated to me as 'hi'. "I'm back."
"You are powerful, for a ghost," I understood him as saying. "Can you take away the pain and the noise?" His twitchiness increased as the others followed me in, but I could see Vicky's aura soothing his agitation.
"I can totally End your powers and let you relax," I promised. "The pain and the noise won't bother you anymore. Is that the choice you've made?"
He took a deep breath and visibly fought down the impulse to release his power and annihilate us all as intruders—ghosts—in his space. This would not have been a good move on his part. "I want to sleep without the noise," he said simply.
"We can do that. You like the darkness and the quiet, yes?" My power had already told me how the damage to his brain followed the pattern of several types of neuro-atypical brain patterns, making him susceptible to extreme agitation when faced with excess stimulation. We absolutely did not want him agitated.
"Yes. Darkness, good. Quiet, good."
"Totally doable. Please, sit down." As he did so, I turned to the rest of the group, who were watching me with varying expressions of
what the heck are they talking about?
"Guys, he's chosen to lose his powers. We're going to need to time this very carefully, because he's got bits and pieces of a bullet in his head, which will kill him rather quickly once his powers stop standing in for the damaged bits of his brain. Panacea, I'm going to need you to keep his body going, and stop his brain entering total shock. Miss Medic, you need to go in, get the bullet fragments out, and fix enough of the damage that Panacea can deal with the rest. Tenebrae, he's stimulation averse, so if you can generate darkness around his eyes, that'll be very helpful. And Glory Girl, sit opposite, hold his hands, and sing to him. Keep him calm."
"Sing?" asked Vicky. "I don't know any Russian. What do I sing to him?"
"It's not the words, it's the tune," I said, reaching into my pocket. There were two grapes in capsules there; one held just the antidote to the substance I'd dosed him with twenty-four hours previously, and the other held the power-removal stuff that I'd used on so many other capes. My power allowed me to select the right one without even wondering if it was correct. "He needs to feel comfortable until his powers are totally gone. This is what you're here for, right now."
The Glory Girl of two months ago would have outright refused, and even a month ago she would've argued. But Victoria Dallon had grown and matured in the interim; she sat down across the table from Sleeper, and gently took his hands in hers. To my (concealed) amusement, the song that came out of her mouth was the anthem for Mouse Protector's official fan club.
She had a nice singing voice, and I figured that with her active aura, she sounded magnificent to everyone else. But we had a life to save and a promise to keep. "I'm going to give you something to eat," I said to Sleeper. "Then I'll need you to close your eyes. For the darkness."
"Darkness is good," he agreed. He opened his mouth to let me pop the grape in, then closed his eyes. I gave Tenebrae the nod, and he began cascading pure unmitigated darkness down over Sleeper's face.
If his power was going to fight back against being Ended, especially as Amy was already laying her hands on the back of his neck, now was the time. I could see the twitches in his body and arms as the subconscious control tried to override the soothing influence of Glory Girl's lullaby and Tenebrae's darkness, but it was too little and too late. Far slower than with any of my other subjects—I suspected his power was working to slow down its effects, even now—the substance reached his brain and sought out his corona pollentia.
"Whoa …" murmured Amy. "What
is
that stuff? And holy shit, his brain's a
mess."
"A little something-something I picked up around the place," I replied, just as quietly.
Vicky kept singing; she was into the second verse now, and really giving it her all. The Lil' Mousey Fan Club had never sounded so good.
"Keep going?" asked Tenebrae, his voice tense.
"Little bit longer," I confirmed. "Panacea, you call it."
"Starting to get a little stutter," Amy reported. "Okay, picking up functions now. His powers are nearly … gone, they're gone! Miss Medic!" As she clamped both hands onto his forehead and lower jaw to keep his head steady, I could tell she was forcing his faltering body to keep maintaining the rhythms of life.
"On it!" Riley had been sidling around to get a good angle. Now she leaned in and snapped her fingers; surgical tools popped out of her bracers and she went to work. Scalpels flashed, tiny clamps peeled aside a patch of scalp, and antiseptic sprays hissed as miniature cutting saws sliced out a section of skull. Less than a second after she'd commenced operations, she was in.
Glory Girl looked up at me, her expression questioning. I signalled for her to keep singing; even with the two top cape healers in the continental United States working on him, Sleeper was going to need every bit of help he could get. If he'd been on a gurney in front of mundane surgeons in the best-equipped trauma ward in the world, I would've given him no more than twenty-five percent chance of survival, and ten percent of any actual recovery.
Here, in a powers-battered farmhouse in the middle of Russia, his chances were much better.
"Fragments!" sang out Riley. I handed Tenebrae the shallow dish I'd brought along, and he held it for his cousin, the darkness no longer necessary. One after another, the tiny bits of lead dropped into it as she delved into Sleeper's brain.
"How you doing there, Panacea?" I asked casually, not pushing the urgency.
"I've got this," she replied. "But I've never seen so much damage in anyone still walking around."
"Powers." I shrugged to indicate that yes, they were bullshit.
"True."
"Last fragment."
Ting.
"Fixing the worst of the damage."
"That'll be nice, thanks." I looked at Amy again. "You're okay with working on his brain?"
She rolled her eyes. "You're asking me
now?"
"Hmm." I chose to acknowledge the point. "Sorry. Should've clarified before we proceeded."
"It's all good. Anything I do right now will be a downright improvement." She shot me a tiny grin, and I knew she was feeling good about actually getting me to apologise about my high-handed manner. Even if (as she had to suspect) it was all scripted by my power from the get-go.
"Well, that's enough scar tissue bridged that he should be able to function unaided," announced Riley, even as her surgical bracers whirred and clicked and did amazingly precise things to the semi-conscious man's brain. "Want to take over while I close up, Panacea?"
"Absolutely." Amy didn't hesitate, closing her eyes so she could concentrate better. "Damn, you do good work."
"Thank you." Riley beamed at her. "So do you. This is a bit of a step-up from Damsel of Distress, though."
"Meh, you deal with one horrifically powerful Blaster, you deal with them all."
As Amy bent to her task, Riley finished gluing and stitching where she'd been, leaving a neatly clipped section on the side of his head. Tenebrae was studying the bits of bullet in the tray, and Vicky seemed to be wondering if she needed to keep singing.
"We're good now," I told her. "Nice job, though. Music soothes the savage beast, and all that."
"So, you didn't just have me do it to keep me busy and feeling like I was achieving something?" she asked, raising one eyebrow.
"Nope." My tone was totally serious. It would've been just as serious if I was lying to her, but in this instance I was telling the unvarnished truth. "Because of his brain damage, his power had far deeper roots into his subconscious and conscious mind than most people, and it was able to stave off the power-killer for longer. It was trying hard to get him to lash out before it lost all grip, and between you and Tenebrae, you managed to keep him calm enough to maintain control."
"And if he had lashed out, we would've died?" She didn't look happy at the prospect.
"Actually, no. See, I planned for the chance of him telling me to fuck off. Given that I'd already dropped in on him once, he could've made it a lot harder for me to repeat the trick and come out alive. So the note I gave him, that one right there on the table, which absolutely
nobody
is to touch, had a variant on the power removal substance on it."
The benefit of the morph mask was that nobody could see my sly sideways glance at Riley. Everybody was looking at me, so no-one saw the tiny grin on her face, either.
"Okay, I'll bite," Tenebrae said. "If it didn't remove his powers, what
did
it do?"
I grinned. "Removed the required secondary powers necessary for him to
survive
using his powers. If he'd tried to use them to ambush me, he would've exploded, very messily indeed. Basically, he would've died in exactly the same way he's killed a great many other people."
Amy snorted with amusement. "Okay, yeah, that's ironic as fuck. I just have to wonder … where the hell did you get it from, as well as the power killing one? This is the first chance I've had of watching that one in action, and it's goddamn
scary. Zeroed in on his corona and just
murdered
it."
"Sorry, but I don't reveal my sources." I nodded at Sleeper, who literally had his head down on the table, asleep, as Amy took her hands away from his head. "Is his brain unscrambled?"
"As much as I could manage." She shrugged diffidently. "He's likely to have a few gaps in his memories, but he's functional in every way that counts."
"Excellent." I popped the cover on my teleporter and tapped in a new destination. "I think it's time we sent him on his way, then."
"What?" asked Riley. "Where to?"
Reaching out, I shook the recumbent man by his shoulder. Grunting and snorting, he woke up and looked around. "Is it done?" he asked in Russian.
"It is," I agreed in the same language. "Now, I'm pretty sure there are still warrants active on you in St Petersburg, Sergey. You've had your little holiday. Time to go face the music."
"What? No!" He came to his feet and tried to push me aside, but Tenebrae was there, and he made matters so much easier.
Despite being maybe half Sergey's age, he was taller and broader, and was
far
better trained in close-quarters combat. He locked the Russian up into a compliance hold, and looked over at me. "What do you want done with him?"
Dependable minions, I decided, were worth their weight in gold. Even if they didn't know they were minions. Or maybe 'especially'.
"Just shove him through there," I noted as the portal formed beside us. "One-way trip, no backsies."
Tenebrae was entirely equal to the task; he gave Sergey the bum-rush through the portal like he practised the move every day. The smoky gray doorway popped out of existence half a second afterward. "Okay," he said, dusting his hands off. "So where did I just send him, and why?"
I noted that he'd done what I wanted
before
asking questions, which was a useful trait in any definitely-not-a-minion. Leaning back against the chair, I looked at four faces showing various levels of curiosity, as opposed to accusation.
"Sergey, there, was a second-rate Russian mobster from St Petersburg, who'd skipped town ahead of a few warrants, including one for murder. He had the opportunity to walk away from the life, but chose not to, and got caught up in a firefight in Moldova, where he got shot in the head with substandard ammo from a substandard gun. It didn't quite kill him in time before he triggered from shock and panic. Thus, Sleeper."
"Ah," Vicky said. "So … an actual bad guy, not just someone in the wrong place at the wrong time?"
"An actual bad guy," I agreed.
Tenebrae rubbed his jaw. "You went to extreme lengths to give him a warning and save his life after he chose to lose his powers, but then you turned him over to Russian authorities? Not judging, but that feels a little … contradictory."
"Not if you look at it in the right way." I grinned under my mask. "This whole exercise was never about saving his life. It was about me and my power proving that yes, we
can
and
will
do what we say we're gonna do. Deliver a message? Check. Safely depower him? Check. After that … well, I don't really give a damn about his ongoing well-being, and he is kind of an awful person. So, to the cops he goes."
Amy blinked. "Is it bad that you're actually making sense to me?"
"Nope." Riley grinned and patted her kindly on the shoulder. "Welcome to Atropos logic."
"So I'm learning." Amy shook her head and grinned at me. "You're a pretty terrible person yourself, but damned if I'm not beginning to like you."
"Aww, thanks. I wuv you too." I put my arm around her and gave her a quick side-hug.
"Get
off," she grumbled, but she didn't shove me too hard. I let go anyway, of course.
"So, what
are
you going to do with that paper?" asked Vicky, indicating my note, but keeping her distance. "If it's still got any of that stuff on it, it's dangerous to all of us."
"I thought you'd never ask." Grinning again, I delved into my pocket and pulled out a good old-fashioned cigarette lighter. "I always come prepared."
"Yeah," agreed Amy as I applied flame to paper. "No shit."
We stood there and watched as it burned to ash. Finally, as the last ember flickered out, I opened the cover on my teleporter. "So, who wants to go home?"
Four voices replied at once. "Me!"
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
Protectorate ENE, Director's OfficePaul Renick liked to think he had a fairly good grasp on how to be Director in the new, post-Atropos Brockton Bay. Rule number one was, of course, 'do not annoy Atropos'. Fortunately, this rule was amazingly easy to stick to.As a corollary, however, there was the understanding that Atropos was likely to occasionally borrow one or more of the Wards for her own purposes, with the unspoken but quite clear subtext that she was only asking to be polite. Paul still wasn't sure how he felt about this. It was something he suspected he shared with Emily Piggot; while she'd cooperated with the enigmatic killer, it was never something she was thrilled about doing.Case in point: about fifteen minutes ago, Atropos had gone off to deal with Sleeper(!) in the company of Tenebrae and Miss Medic, along with Panacea and Glory Girl. This was another mystery for him to ponder; specifically, how had Atropos won over Victoria Dallon so thoroughly that she would willingly come along on one of these jaunts into the unknown? When Atropos began her reign of terror over the Brockton Bay criminal underworld, Glory Girl had been one of her most outspoken critics, but from what he'd seen of their interaction, all animosity was gone for good. While Glory Girl was still headstrong and opinionated, she
listened
to Atropos, and didn't argue with definitive statements.He had to give Tenebrae and Miss Medic kudos for their aplomb around Atropos as well. Tenebrae's sister was (of course) known to be the head of the Atropos fan club (and had the signed Polaroids to prove it), but the lad had comported himself well in his meetings with Atropos, despite his obvious misgivings about the whole situation. In fact, he had made an excellent showing all round since his induction into the Wards, something that Paul made sure showed up in his record.It was definitely a welcome change from the ongoing headache that had been Shadow Stalker's tenure in the same position.He was only mildly startled when the portal opened in front of his desk. Miss Medic emerged first, followed by Panacea and Tenebrae. Glory Girl darted out next, with Atropos bringing up the rear and somehow managing to seem as though she was in no hurry at all.The portal closed silently behind them, as Glory Girl vigorously rubbed her arms. "Jeez!" she complained. "That was way too cold for comfort!"Paul frowned slightly. "I'm sorry, I could've sworn you just said 'too cold' and not 'too close'.""That's what I said," she reassured him. "There wasn't any real danger, not the way we did it. But holy brass monkeys, it was
cold."Atropos chuckled. "I could've sworn I warned you that it was going to be." She turned her head toward Paul. "I did say it was going to be dark and cold before we left, right?"Restraining a smile, he nodded. "Yes, I do believe I heard you say that.""Yeah, but I can
handle
cold!" Glory Girl paused, as though reviewing what she'd just said. "I mean, my force field traps warm air, so I don't have to worry about it so much. But that was
ridiculous
levels of cold!""Russia, early spring, midnight, no cloud cover," Atropos recited as though reading off a teleprompter. "Trust me, it could've been worse. There was a stream at the bottom of the hill that was about two degrees off freezing. I could've dropped you in it, and I didn't.""Thank you for that," Panacea said, apparently sincerely. "She's bad enough when she
doesn't
have frostbitten toes."Glory Girl rolled her eyes, then turned to Miss Medic and Tenebrae. "And what about you two? You can't say it wasn't cold.""Oh, I felt the cold alright," Tenebrae assured her blandly. "But not a lot of it." He reached into one of the pouches that adorned his belt. As if they'd rehearsed it, Miss Medic did the same. "We talked about it, and I got Kid Win to put warming pads in our costumes, just in case." There was a tiny
click
and he closed the pouch again."What—you—" Glory Girl whirled to Atropos. "At least tell me that
you—""Sorry. No Tinkertech here, but full length thermal underwear for the win." Atropos stripped off one glove to show a slender hand with neatly trimmed nails, and a flannel sleeve extending from within her costume. She slid the glove back onto her hand with equal ease."So, I'm the
only one
who was freezing her butt off out there?" Glory Girl sounded distinctly aggrieved. "Why didn't someone warn me?""Um, what part of 'I'm dressing up really warmly here' did you not get, Vicky?" Panacea rolled her eyes even more expressively than her sister had. "Seriously, drop it. This isn't the same as the tiara. Nobody's picking on you. You made a bad call. It happens.""She's right." Atropos put her hand on Glory Girl's shoulder. "However, letting you suffer the cold was
not
intentional. And you did your part anyway, which I greatly appreciate. Thank you for coming along, and thank you for making everyone else's job a lot easier."Glory Girl blinked, taken slightly aback. "Oh, well, uh, you're welcome." She visibly squared her shoulders. "Couldn't have done it without me, huh?""I certainly wouldn't have wanted to try it without you there, no." Atropos squeezed Glory Girl's shoulder, then dropped her hand to her side as she looked around at the rest of the capes. "And that goes for everyone. You all did your jobs, and did them well. Thanks to you, Sleeper's where he needs to be."Paul had to ask the question. "And where's that, exactly? Another Earth?""Hah, no," Panacea said cheerfully. "Atropos killed his power, Miss Medic and I fixed his brain, and Tenebrae booted him through a portal to a jail cell in St Petersburg. Vicky kept him calm the whole time, so his power couldn't act out before it was shut down. Turns out he was wanted for murder before he ever got his powers."Tenebrae nodded. "That's basically what happened, sir, though I'll be writing up my after-action report as soon as I get the chance.""I'm sure it will make for fascinating reading." Paul nodded to Atropos. "Thank you for bringing them all back alive and healthy. I had no doubt you would anyway, but …" He spread his hands in lieu of finishing the sentence."But it's not exactly standard operating procedure, and you'd also be on the hook if I hadn't, yeah." Atropos returned the nod. "Totally understood, and I do appreciate your cooperation in the matter.""You are entirely welcome." Not very much to his surprise, he meant it. Despite her (extremely intimidating) record of kills, she was thoroughly down to earth, and never resorted to threats to get her way. Since the demise of the Simurgh it had been unofficially understood by all that what she wanted, she would get, but she never rubbed it in anyone's face. Also, going on an excursion with her was guaranteed to be valuable experience for the Wards, going forward. "Did you need my people for anything else today?""Not the Brockton Bay Wards, no." She turned to Glory Girl and Panacea. "Do you need a lift home, or are you good from here?""I'm happy to fly," Glory Girl declared. "Sun's still up, and it's gotta be warmer than Darkest Russia. Ames?"Panacea shrugged. "Sure. We can talk about exactly what we're gonna tell Mom and Dad.""Yeah, good point." Glory Girl drew a deep breath. "Just gonna say, Atropos, we didn't exactly start out on the right foot with each other, but you totally know your stuff. Even if it was way too cold, that was amazing. Any time you need a hand, I'm down.""Good to hear." Atropos took a few steps away, then turned to face everyone. Two fingers tapped the brim of her hat. "Toodles." Then, at the perfect time to do so, she vanished.
<><>
FlechetteRelevant Side-StoryScribe was up to something; Lily could almost swear to it. There was an entirely unwarranted air of smugness about her that had only shown up
after
the altercation with Shebang. The ex-Empire member wasn't quite sneering 'I know something that you don't'
at her, but it was very close indeed.The problem was, Lily couldn't figure out where it was coming from. She knew damn well that if Scribe had somehow convinced Director Piggot to make Lily back off from her (yeah, as if), she'd know about it, because the woman was a
fuck-ton
more proactive than Wilkins had been about communicating her needs and wants down the chain of command. Unlike with her predecessor, there was never any guesswork or mixed messages involved.Neither (and this was important) had Director Piggot ever been stupid enough to piss off Atropos.On a hunch, Lily wandered into the common room and checked the roster up on the board. It would've been ideal if she'd been put on patrol with Scribe, but that wasn't going to happen. Being a probationary Ward with an actual criminal record, Scribe was restricted to patrolling with Protectorate capes rather than fellow Wards.When Scribe was inducted into the New York Wards, there had been no way to avoid letting the Wards and Protectorate capes know who she'd once been. Lily had no problem with this—she liked knowing who she was working alongside—but apparently Wilkins had been strongly invested in the success of Scribe's venture into the Wards. Lily got the impression that if the Director had been able to suppress the information, she would have. Lacking that option, she'd de-emphasised it as much as she could, in the name of 'a fresh start' and giving Scribe 'a fair shake'.Having associated with Scribe on and off since her induction, Lily was all in favour of giving the girl a fair shake,
preferably at neck height.Among her 'fellow' Wards, Scribe was relatively nice, unless she figured she could get away with
not
being nice, as she had a few times with Shebang. She'd tried her luck exactly once with Lily, and had discovered the hard way that getting her ass kicked (both literally and figuratively)
hurt.Conscious of her own standing within the Wards, and of Director Wilkins' favouritism toward the newest Ward, Lily hadn't marked her permanently, and no official punishment had been levied. However, the lesson had definitely been taken to heart, and Lily was beginning to wonder in retrospect if that incident was also part of why Wilkins had been soured toward her.Clearly knowing which side her bread was buttered, Scribe was the very model of propriety in front of adult heroes and any PRT employee (though, given Director Piggot's directives, she evidently wasn't as slick as she thought she was). Some of the Protectorate capes knew what she'd been like before Kaiser had died with his own sword stuck through his eye (which would
never
not be funny as fuck) but most of them had simply never bothered to read the files. Boomer was one of the latter; he was good at what he did, but he didn't know shit about teenagers.Scribe, Lily knew, would run rings around him.Not if I can fucking help it.
<><>
ScribeThis guy's an idiot. I can run rings around him.As Tammi guided the metal platform (shaped vaguely like a large scroll, emblazoned with the PRT logo underneath, and specifically constructed to be bulletproof) across the New York skyline, she glanced sideways at Boomer. He was what most people had in mind when they thought of superheroes: muscular and spandex-clad, with a damaging close-ranged Blaster power. However, his best feature (as far as she was concerned) was his inflated opinion of his ability to pass on tips and tricks of the hero trade to newbies needing guidance.Not that she was any way a newbie; she'd been an active member of the Empire Eighty-Eight for past couple of years. But he didn't need to know exactly how
much
she'd been doing with the Empire, so she made sure to treat his every pronouncement with the respectful awe he seemed to expect. As a result, he positively encouraged her to take the initiative whenever possible, and spent most of his time standing back and watching.In other words, he was perfect for her purposes.The people she'd been talking with (who she was ninety-nine percent sure were the Adepts) wanted to meet up with her while she was out and about, with an aim toward recruiting her into their number. She thought they were idiots for using the whole 'magic' schtick in the first place, but if it got her out of the Wards and into a solid team, then she'd wave a sparkly fucking wand all day long. And if the PRT came after the Adepts for poaching her, she could get the fuck out of town and find a team elsewhere."Hey," she said, pointing. "What's that down there?"There was nothing down there, of course, but he wasn't to know that. He shaded his eyes and peered at the narrow side-street. "What did you see?"She began to move the platform down in that direction. "Two guys, running, dark clothing. They might've had something over their faces.""Good eye," he said, pulling a miniature pair of binoculars out of his utility belt and scanning the area. "Which way were they going, and were they armed?""Looked like south-southwest. I couldn't see if they were armed or not." She gestured in that general direction. "If I drop you off at that intersection, I can swing around and herd them straight back to you."He only spent a moment thinking about it, which didn't surprise her. This was exactly the kind of proactive teamwork he'd been trying to foster in her, after all. "Okay, but be careful. Don't take any chances. If you see anything that looks even remotely like a gun, cover up and call me in.""Absolutely." She tapped her foot on the floor of the platform, then slapped one of the removable side panels, designed to be independently controlled in the field. "They'll never see me coming.""That's the idea, kid." He slapped her on the shoulder. "Let's do this thing."
<><>
FlechetteIt had taken Lily a little detective work to figure out just where Scribe was going to do whatever she did on the patrol with Boomer. Each patrol had its own route that allowed a little variation; giving the ne'er-do-wells the chance to know exactly
when
the heroes were going to show up wouldn't be ideal, after all. While some parts of it were just too exposed to the public for any sneaky dealing to take place, it also covered some of the less well-off areas of town, where law-abiding members of the public were unlikely to be loitering.That still left too much for her to cover all at once, but then she cross-referenced the patrol route with the stomping grounds of some of the independent heroes and villains in Manhattan, and she hit the jackpot. There was a three-block section where the patrol cut through the area usually held by the Adepts … who had been known to recruit Wards away from the heroes.Gotcha, you little cow. I know what you're up to.She was good at moving across the skyline, but all the same she was pushed to the limit to get to where she needed to in time to beat Scribe and Boomer there. The whole way there, she was besieged by doubts about whether she was going about this the right way. All she had to go on were strong suspicions, based on a smug look and her personal certainty that Scribe was up to no good.While she didn't
think
Director Piggot would come down on her for a bad call, she didn't want to give Scribe the leeway to duck out from under future investigations. So she figured it was best that she check out the situation for herself; if she was right (which she figured she was) she could gather the proof and present it, and the Director could land on Scribe with both feet.Of course, if Scribe was intending to defect
today, that would be another thing altogether. Lily still wasn't sure what she'd do if that turned out to be the case, but she was sure she'd figure something out. While she hadn't had much to do with the Adepts, she couldn't see them going down to the wire for a racist asshole like Rune.And if they do, I'll kick as much butt as necessary to bring her in anyway.
<><>
ScribeLeaving Boomer waiting on a low building for her to herd the non-existent gang members back toward him, Tammi kicked the platform into high gear and headed off around a taller building to get out of his sight. She knew she'd only have a few minutes before he started getting concerned about her, meaning she'd have to make the time count.
So where the hell are those Adept assholes, anyway?It took her thirty precious seconds before she spotted a figure waving from a rooftop above her line of sight, and she began to gain altitude. As she got up to that level, she saw there were half a dozen of them waiting for her, spread out in a rough semi-circle. Glancing around, she came in for a landing on the rooftop. "Hey."One of them stepped forward; hooded and cloaked with an hourglass on a chain around his neck, he held a brass sundial that seemed to have mechanical workings built into it. Tammi recognised him as Epoch, leader of the Adepts. "Scribe. Were you followed?""Not really." Tammi gestured back to where she'd left Boomer. "Got a minder, but we've got a few minutes before he comes looking. I guess being on the clock's kind of your thing, right?" She essayed a chuckle at the weak joke.Epoch didn't react one way or the other. "So noted. You wanted to talk face to face?"She took a deep breath. "Yeah. Wanted to know if you really were who you said you were, and weren't just jerking me around. A lot easier to talk about this sort of shit when we don't have to keep dancing around it and can just come straight out and say what we mean.""Attention to information security is what's kept us from being swept up by the Protectorate so far." It was hard to tell if Epoch was telling her to STFU about the precautions or just making a point. "You've seen that the offer's genuine. Your power shows strong potential for working alongside ours. Now, my question for you is, if you're serious about jumping out of the Wards, how soon can you cut ties and come over to us?"She was just formulating an answer when her radio earpiece crackled with Boomer's voice. "Boomer to Scribe. How are you getting along, over? Nobody's come out my end yet."Panicking just a little, she did her best to ignore the voice on her radio.
If they figure out I'm in contact with Boomer, they might think I'm fucking them over and lose my chance.
"Um, maybe a week? I've got a few things in my room I'd rather not lose, you know?"Just as Epoch turned his head to confer quietly with the others, Boomer spoke up again, somewhat more urgently. "Boomer to Scribe, come in, over. If you can't speak, click twice for 'all good', three times for 'there's a problem but hold position', and four times for 'danger, come now'."Tammi dithered, her mind whirling in a dozen different directions.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, what do I do?
If she reached for the radio pressel now, they'd be sure to assume she was a plant by the PRT. It was what she'd figure, in their place. She
wasn't,
but that wasn't much fucking help right now.Likewise, if she bailed, they'd probably think she was pulling some shit. Again, that was what she would think in their place. She'd watched Hookwolf work over more than one prospect who had said or done the wrong thing at the wrong time; not many of them had been able to walk away afterward. Some of them, she was pretty sure, would never walk again.Several buildings away, there was an echoing
boooom, and a familiar figure rose above the rooftops. Another explosion sent Boomer angling in their direction. Everyone looked in that direction, because whatever else Boomer's power was, subtle didn't come into it."Is that your minder?" Epoch's question was sharp."Yeah, but he wasn't supposed to—"Epoch aimed the sundial at Boomer and turned some of the cogs. There was a blink of motion, and Boomer stood among them. Some more cogs clicked, and the Protectorate member froze in place."Ten seconds to choose," Epoch said. "Come with us, or go back and face the music. He's seen you with us. There's no walking this back. What's it to be?"Shit. Shit, shit, shit.
While Tammi despised everything the Wards stood for, especially the whole equality-for-all bullshit, everything was happening too fast. She really wanted more time to think this sort of shit over.The trouble was, if she went back now, Epoch was right. Boomer
had
seen her with them. At the very least, questions would be asked. They would absolutely delve into her PHO private message log (she wasn't stupid enough to believe that they
couldn't) and even though she'd never actually said anything incriminating, Piggy would totally use it as an excuse to punt her head-first into juvey.Fuck. That.She jumped off the platform as her power kicked it into movement. The Adepts jumped back, but she wasn't aiming for them. It was instead heading at Boomer, sweeping him off his feet and over the side of the building with the platform driving him straight down toward the ground like a metallic fist.Even if he'd emerged from Epoch's time-freeze on the way down, he had no chance to avoid being driven into the unyielding concrete below, courtesy of her platform. She was pretty sure she heard the meaty
crunch
over and above the metallic
clang,
even as the side-panels from the platform danced around her. Turning and looking at the Adepts, she spread her hands in a
voila
gesture."That answer your question?"
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
Meanwhile, in the Shard Bar …Shape is rarely a consideration in the Shard Bar. As it is more of an abstract representation than an actual location, function rather than form is what holds sway here. Most shards appear at least superficially humanoid by definition because their hosts are human and thus the assumption is that they will follow the same body pattern.There is likely material for an extensive philosophical conversation here, but it would all boil down to the phrase 'mental self-image'. Or perhaps 'as above, so below'. Were the hosts squid-like instead, then the patrons of the Shard Bar would be far more cephalopodean in nature, in an abstract sense anyway. There would also be far more tentacles involved.One prime example of 'abstractly humanoid' stands in the bar at this (supposed) moment in time. The shard looks like a human woman in a ball-gown would if she were composed entirely of glass, though just the outer shell. Every time she moves to gesture or pick up her analogue of a drink, the glass cracks and crazes over her entire structure, then reforms in the new shape.This is Fragile Beauty, a relatively young shard, so new that she's still on her first host. Even as Ending coalesces out of the shadows nearby (it's a new trick he's trying out) she is talking to her drinking companions brightly and enthusiastically, with many hand gestures. Were this anything approximating reality, they would be in moderate danger due to flying shards of glass, but there are no vulnerable bodies here to be slashed or pierced, nor any glass to do it with. In fact, there is no 'here', here."… so I said to Ending, I said …" Fragile Beauty, never the sharpest imaginary spoon in the hypothetical drawer, finally realises that everyone's attention is not on her, but on whoever is behind her. She turns her head, cracking repeatedly around the neck, until she sees the hooded robe (covering a nominally humanoid form) and the scythe (not in the least bit humanoid, but relevant nonetheless).I'M CURIOUS. WHAT EXACTLY DID YOU SAY TO ME?"Nothing! I didn't say anything! You're the one who made me unlock a few more options for my host!"SO YOU DISLIKE YOUR HOST?"No! She's the best host ever! But I want her to be strong! Not just give her everything for free!"SO SHE GATHERED NO USEFUL DATA AS A RESULT?"No, she gathered lots of data, but it's the principle of the thing!"BE SURE TO LET ME KNOW HOW THAT GOES FOR YOU. IN THE MEANTIME, I HAVE ANOTHER TASK FOR YOU.
The cowled skull turns fractionally, eyeing (without the use of even theoretical eyes, which is an impressive trick) Fragile Beauty's drinking companions.
YOU WILL GIVE US PRIVACY.
NOW.
Deep in the back of the eye-sockets, some light-years distant, a blue glow ignites.In a remarkably short time, they are alone within a growing bubble of silence, as all the other shards in the Bar are doing their best to pretend that Ending and Fragile Beauty don't exist, even in the hypothetical concept of the word as it pertains to the Shard Bar."Okay, fine, great, thank you." Fragile Beauty is trying to put on a brave front, and almost succeeding. "What do you want now?"YOUR HOST IS NO LONGER HOSTILE TO MINE."Well, true. Congratulations for that. What do you want with me now?"IN TIME, SHE WILL BE ASSISTING MINE IN SOMETHING. I NEED YOU TO LEARN TO BE MORE … FLEXIBLE.If Fragile Beauty had been equipped with eyeballs instead of mouldings in a glass face, she would have rolled her eyes. As it is, the glass around her eyes cracks a little. "Assisting your host in something? More flexible? Could you perhaps be a little more obscure? I'm not totally confused yet."YOU WILL UNDERSTAND, IN TIME. BE READY.Ending thumps the butt-end of his scythe against the floorboards and swirls his cloak around himself. Somehow, after the swirl completes, he and the cloak are both gone.As conversation slowly fills the Shard Bar again, Fragile Beauty is left to consider his words. Despite her bravado, she dares not defy him. She, along with many other patrons, saw what happened to the Inheritor shard when it crossed him.Nobody, but
nobody, screws with Ending. That's just the way things are.Okay, flexibility. Right. I can do flexibility.
<><>
FlechetteLily, from her vantage point several hundred yards away, saw Boomer rise into the air, trailing his trademark explosions. Taking up her arbalest, she connected the chain to the already-loaded projectile and prepared to shoot it into the side of the building Scribe was having her little meeting on top of. She'd already gotten photos of Scribe landing and talking with the Adepts, so information-gathering time was over and ass-kicking time was right now.Not that there was going to be much in the way of ass-kicking. The Adepts didn't go in for the physical stuff all that much, preferring to use their powers to run the fuck away when things got dicey. That suited Lily; the only one who was due an ass-kicking was Scribe, and only if she resisted arrest.Lily hoped she was going to resist arrest.And then, it all went wrong. One of the Adepts pulled some kind of bullshit, and Boomer was suddenly on the rooftop. It was almost perfect positioning; all he had to do was let off a couple of explosions and the show would be over, the fat lady singing her heart out.But he didn't do a damn thing. He just stood there. Snatching out her binoculars, Lily saw that he was just staring into space, while one of the Adepts—Epoch, maybe—said something to Scribe.And then Scribe used her mobile platform to smack Boomer off the roof. It followed him all the way down; even if he was able to recover from the time-freeze or whatever it was, he wouldn't have had a chance to get out of the way before he hit the ground.Mother. Fucker.Clicking her radio pressel, Lily spoke coldly and clearly. "Flechette here. Scribe has just murdered Boomer. Am engaging."Then she aimed her arbalest at Scribe and pulled the trigger. The long aluminum dart, treated with her power to sink into the target and stop, whipped away across the intervening space with the chain unreeling after it. But she realised too late that she'd forgotten one thing: Scribe also had a radio linked into the same channel.In the split second before Lily's shot would've hit its target, Scribe twisted out of the way. The projectile punched a hole through Scribe's wide sleeve and kept on going, trailing its chain all the way. It went another two hundred yards past the rooftop before it hit another building and stuck firm.Didn't matter. Lily ignored the voice on the radio that told her to hold back until help arrived. She fused her end of the chain with the rooftop so it was nice and tight, then jumped on the chain and started running.She'd done this before. Her sense of balance was good enough that she could run along the chain like it was solid pavement. The important thing was that Scribe
not get away with this shit.Scribe yanked at her sleeve, still impaled on the chain, then did it again hard enough that the cloth tore away. This didn't budge the chain enough to make Lily lose her footing.
Twenty seconds and you're mine, bitch.
Every little micro-aggression, every carefully worded racist comment, every crime that Scribe—Rune—was skating on by pretending to be a hero until people forgot she ever used to be a villain: Lily was going to make her pay in full.Then one of the floating shields moved into position above the chain. Poised where it was, just outside the roof-line, it could snap the chain if it came down with sufficient force. This was definitely a problem. Lily was far enough above the ground that even if she survived the fall (unlikely), she would doubtless suffer extensive injuries.She didn't have an option in the matter. If she tried to run back, Scribe would still have time to snap the chain before she got close enough to her starting point to swing in safely. So, she had to push on and hope like hell that Scribe blinked first.Scribe didn't blink.Lily was halfway between the buildings when the heavy metal shield—ironically bearing the PRT logo—smashed down on the chain. She nearly lost her footing when it went taut as an iron bar, then she
did
lose her footing when it snapped and fell loose. Her legs continued to flail in a running motion, even after all traction was lost.Oh, fuck. I'm so sorry, Emily.That was when the smoky grey portal opened in front of her and just a little bit down, to match the beginning of her terminal arc. She saw it, recognised it, and tucked into the dive-roll position, all in the same split second before she passed through. On the far side of the portal was the rooftop she'd been heading for; she landed, rolled, and came to her feet with the ease of long practice.To one side was Scribe, just beginning to turn toward her with a shocked expression on what Lily could see of her face. The Adepts took up the other side, looking equally taken aback, though possibly for different reasons. She was inclined to think that they hadn't had anything to do with Scribe's murder of Boomer and attempted murder of her, but that was the entirety of the slack she was willing to cut them. They were the sole reason both Scribe and Lily were on this rooftop; without their apparent agreement to meet with Scribe and discuss defection to their ranks, none of this would've happened."What the fuck?" demanded Scribe. She swept her shields around to hide her from Lily, no doubt fully aware of the darts Lily was pulling out of her quiver. "How did you do that?"Lily recalled a line that Atropos had used. "With panache and style," she said grimly, energising the darts so they'd cut through anything they hit, such as Scribe herself, like soft butter. At this range, and without the chain being required, she wasn't going to be using the arbalest. Just throwing them was good enough. For the first time, she totally understood Atropos' point of view, and she was all out of fucks to give.Epoch held his hands up defensively and backed away, along with the rest of his team. "We're not part of this. Murder wasn't part of the plan.""Like hell you're not part of it!" Scribe sounded just a little panicky, as well she might. The last time they'd clashed, Scribe had been well and truly put on her ass; this time, Lily had no reason to let her get up again. "Felony murder means you're just as deep in it as me! Help me gank this bitch, and it all goes away."Huh, so she
has
been paying attention.
Lily was a bit surprised that Scribe was calling Epoch out on it, though. It didn't seem to be the smartest move for Scribe to single herself out as the cause for the Adepts' sudden legal problem, but Sabrina the Teenage Nazi had never been one to think things all the way through."Too late. I already called it in." Lily edged to the side, trying to see around the damn floating shields, the darts ready to throw. "Kill me now and the murder charges go up to two instead of down to zero. Help me take her down, and I'll put in a good word for you.""I think not. This is getting far too complicated. You two can sort it out between yourselves, and good luck to you." Epoch and the others were close to the far side of the roof now. Lily wasn't watching them carefully, being too intent on trying to get to Scribe, but out of the corner of her eye she saw them all vanish, one after the other, popping out of existence.A shield swept too close to her, and she swiped a dart through it at mid-level. The top half parted company with the bottom half, and there was a soundless flare as she disrupted Scribe's control rune; both halves clattered to the rooftop, the sliced ends silver-bright and mirror-smooth. Keeping a careful eye out for an attempted repeat of the Boomer murder, she recharged the dart and sidestepped as quietly as she could.There had been four of the metal shields, each designed to be able to snap into brackets on the flying platform that had been built for Scribe. One was lying on the rooftop in two halves, but that left three still weaving back and forth between Lily and Scribe. This worked both ways: Lily needed line of sight to put a dart through whatever part of Scribe presented itself, and Scribe needed to see where Lily was if she wanted to smack her with any flying objects.Come on, Atropos. I could do with some backup.
Lily knew that she could take down Scribe with one good shot, but she was also vulnerable to an attack from behind. Atropos had to be aware of what was going on—the teleport portal was clear evidence of that—so where
was
she?Maybe she knows I can handle it from here, and just gave me a helping hand.
Lily tried not to think too hard about Boomer's death; Atropos had always been very blunt about the fact that she was no hero. Saving people wasn't her thing. However, she'd also made it clear that she considered Lily a friend, and thus worth keeping alive.What would she do, if she was here?
Lily knew what she would do, of course: pull some bullshit and make an impossible shot that looked so easy once she'd done it. Taking a deep breath, Lily threw one of the darts directly at the centrepoint of the moving shields. Once it got through all three, it would only have a little bit of momentum left, but that was fine; Scribe wasn't wearing much in the way of body armour."Jesus fuck!" yelped the perfidious villain-turned-Ward-turned-villain. There was no edge of pain to Scribe's voice, but from the sound of it, Lily may have come close enough to make her shit herself. "Watch it with those things, you bitch!""That was a warning shot!" Lily tried to hit the same note of menace that Atropos could achieve so easily. "Give up now and I'll only nail your foot to the rooftop until the PRT gets here. If you don't, I'll kill you.""You won't do that," sneered Scribe. "You're a
good
Ward. You're a shoo-in for leader of the Protectorate someday. The one who was there when Atropos killed the Simurgh? You're a fucking
celebrity.
Kill me without due process and all that goes away.""I honestly don't give a fuck about that." Keeping a wary eye on the ever-moving shields, Lily bent and picked up one of the half-shields. It was heavy, but an application of her power fixed that. "I would've been willing to overlook your background, but you never stopped being a fucking Nazi. And now you're a murderer. So, I'm pretty sure they'll give me a medal for this. Drop the shields and give up now, or I'm taking you down the hard way."There was no answer. Lily's mouth tightened, and she threw the half-shield like it was a light plastic disc rather than a square slab of metal. It went through each of the shields without slowing down, disrupting the power that was holding them upright and moving.As they clattered to the rooftop, Lily jumped forward with a dart in her hand, ready to carry out her threat to nail Scribe down by her foot if there was still fight in her. But there wasn't. In fact, Scribe wasn't even there.As she got to the edge of the rooftop, the glint of sunlight on a fast-moving object warned her just in time, and she dropped flat. Several small metal objects—she belatedly recognised them as the locking bolts for the shield brackets—hit the roof edge or whipped overhead at high speed. She waited for a moment, then cautiously stuck her head up.While Lily had been talking and prepping, Scribe had been making a run for it. Standing on what Lily guessed to be the last shield, using the entire platform as her visual cover, she was over a hundred metres away by now and receding farther with every second that passed. Frustrated almost beyond belief, Lily loaded the arbalest and sighted in on the distant metal square, hoping that Scribe would show herself just once.It didn't happen.Scribe went out of sight behind a building shortly before Lily heard the incoming choppers, no doubt homing in on her phone tracer signal. She pulled out a flare launcher and fired it into the sky, then pulled the chain from her arbalest and fused it to the edge of the roof. Flicking a catch on the arbalest to apply a brake to the chain, she stepped off the building and began to rappel down toward ground level.She knew what she'd find once she got there, but she went anyway.
<><>
AtroposAs Rune made her escape from Flechette, I relaxed slightly. My options had been limited; I'd only just gotten back home after the Sleeper episode when the whole problem flared up. Boomer meant nothing to me, and Rune wasn't going to become the ongoing danger to Flechette that March had been, so my best option had been to teleport her clear out of danger.However, she was a big girl and could hold her own in combat, so I went with the second-best option, giving her a chance to take Rune down by herself. It wasn't her fault that Rune had gotten away; if the ex-Empire villain had gone on the attack, Flechette would've come out on top, but villains with mobility were the hardest to pin down. Given a fair chance, Flechette wouldn't let her get away a second time, and Rune wouldn't be catching anyone by surprise.While I could maybe have dropped Flechette close enough to Rune to engage her immediately, she would've gone for a kill-shot in the heat of the moment and probably succeeded. Flechette didn't need that on her record or her conscience, even if it was unofficially approved after the fact.She wasn't me, and she didn't need to
be
me.
<><>
Director's Office, PRT Department 01 (NYC)Director Piggot"… and he was dead when I got down to him, ma'am." Flechette took a deep breath and looked down at the carpet. "I'm no expert, but I think the fall killed him immediately. I just wish …" She trailed off, but that didn't matter. Emily knew what the girl wasn't saying, because she was thinking it too. Legend, standing off to the side, had to be thinking it too."Flechette, look at me." She waited until they'd made eye contact. "None of this is your fault. We had an impossible task before us; the Prisoner's Dilemma is a trap like that. Some villains make the transition and become good heroes, while others choose to bite the hand that feeds. I've seen both, in my time. Determining which is which, making the choice between the need to be fair and the gut instinct that someone is irredeemably flawed, is a choice that was weighted against us before I ever set foot in this office. Still, I should have listened to your judgement, because it was the same as mine. I should have cut the Gordian knot and revoked all of Scribe's patrol hours on my own recognisance. If Boomer's death can be laid at anyone's feet, it's mine."Flechette shook her head. "No, ma'am," she said quietly. "It's Rune's. And we both know if you did that without a justifiable reason after she was established as a probationary Ward, you'd have a ton of official attention landing on you right now."Emily snorted softly. "What are they going to do, replace me? No, I would've weathered that. But I thought …" She paused, choosing to elide Wilkins' name from the conversation, mainly out of professional courtesy. "I thought we could handle it." She sighed, knowing she was going to be repeating these same phrases in front of the court of inquiry that was convened with the death of every cape under PRT command (though she would absolutely be throwing Wilkins to the wolves just as hard as she could). "I believed the precautions we'd taken were adequate at the time.""Given that I was one of those precautions, ma'am, I wish to tender my apologies for my inadequate response.""No." Legend shook his head. "You figured out what she was up to, you were on the scene before anyone else, you alerted us to the situation, and you engaged without hesitation." He cleared his throat. "For the last aspect, however, I'm going to have to put an official reprimand in your file, for ignoring directives to stay clear and shadow the perpetrator. Unofficially, however, there were no innocents to endanger, and you showed initiative in attempting to take her down, so this will not affect your ongoing career prospects."Flechette blinked. "To be absolutely honest, sir, I didn't even hear those directives at first, and once I did, Rune was already trying to drop me to the ground as well.""Oh, we're both aware of that." Emily nodded briefly. "The deciding factor is that you were not given prior orders to hold back, so you were acting on your own initiative, and 'close with the enemy' is never a bad instinct to have.""And what about Rune, ma'am?" Flechette asked, finally addressing the white-supremacist elephant in the room. "When do we go after her?"Emily put on a thoughtful expression before answering. "The Adepts will be spreading the word, and so will we.
Nobody
likes a cape who jumps straight to murder, and with the demise of the Empire Eighty-Eight, her particular political affiliations won't be exactly welcome either. Sooner or later, she'll either stick her head up or someone will drop a dime on her, and then we'll go scoop her up."Flechette looked hopeful. "And when you do, ma'am, can I come along for that?"Legend stirred, but Emily ignored him. "Count on it."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
TenebraeThe non-descript car, driven by a plainclothes PRT trooper, dropped Brian and Riley off outside their building. Brian was still having a little trouble adjusting to the fact that it was light out after the time they'd spent in starlit night, but Riley seemed to be taking it in her stride. In fact, she was positively bubbly about the whole thing."How awesome was that?" she asked as they stepped into the elevator. "I've never been to Russia before. And it was amazing to work alongside Amy again. I love watching her power at work.""It
was
pretty cool," he admitted. "By which I mean, freezing cold. But joking aside, I'm still a little blown away by how Atropos was always going to send him back to St Petersburg to face murder charges, but she went through all that just to get his head fixed first.""It's about setting boundaries." She raised her eyebrows to show she was serious. "Jack never set himself any boundaries. If he hit an obstacle he couldn't immediately overcome, he cheated to get around it, but he always insisted that everyone else stick by the limits he set for them. Atropos doesn't play that game. People respect and trust her because she says what she's going to do, and then she does it."The doors opened and they stepped out onto their floor. "Even when it involves someone dying violently?" He wasn't arguing with her specifically, but he did want to hear her views on that aspect.She shrugged. "How many people has she killed who didn't deserve it?""Due process exists for a reason." He didn't exactly
disagree
with her on the subject of whether people like Kaiser or Bastard Son had deserved their sudden ends, but now that he was committed to the side of goodness and light, he felt it was up to him to support that point of view. "A lot of those people could just as easily have gone to prison."She paused outside their door and held up her finger. "How many deaths has she caused that didn't make the world a measurably better place? Or pave the way for her to
keep
making the world a better place?"He shook his head. "You're using logic. That's unfair. I'm telling Aisha on you." As she burst into giggles—which had been his aim all along—he put his key in the door and turned it.At the same time as the lock clicked, he heard the elevator door
ding
again. He and Riley looked in that direction, because it hadn't been all that long since danger had literally come knocking on their door. He didn't relax all that much when a UPS package delivery guy stepped out (anyone could buy a uniform shirt, after all) but when nobody else followed the guy into the corridor, he let a little of the tension ease out of his body.Not all of it, though. He hadn't been there for the previous kidnapping, and there was no way a second attempt would fly on his watch."Oh, hey," the guy greeted them, hefting a cubical parcel about six inches on a side. "Got a delivery for Laborn, first initial B?""Uh, that's me." Still a little wary, Brian approached the man. Behind him, he heard the apartment door open and close, and knew Riley had ducked inside."Sweet. Here you go." The guy handed the parcel over, made a note on the clipboard he was carrying, and turned back toward the elevator."Wait." Brian hefted the package. It had a little weight to it, but not a great deal. "What is this? Who sent it? Nobody here ordered anything.""Oh, uh, yeah." The delivery guy fumbled with his clipboard. "There's a note. I'm supposed to say, 'I'm not going to let anything bad happen', whatever that means.""Oh." Brian knew exactly what it meant, but while he was no longer worried about a kidnapping or other potential harm, he was still no wiser about the contents of the package. "Thanks. Have a nice day.""No problem. You have a good one too, buddy." The delivery man went back to the elevator and hit the button to go down. By the time the doors closed behind him, he was whistling a popular Canary tune, albeit off-key.Frowning, Brian headed back to the apartment door, still holding the package. When he tapped on the door, it opened immediately; Theo was on the other side, wearing a breastplate and helmet and hefting an impressively sharp-looking shortsword. "Oh, good. You're okay. What is it?""Everything's fine," Brian assured him. "Atropos isn't about to let anything bad happen to us, remember?" Then he looked past Theo to see what was on the TV screen. It was a paused console game, with a giant robot visible from two different angles. In both views, it had been pretty badly shot up, and was on fire. What really grabbed his attention was the swastika blatantly painted on the robot's chest, and woven into the draperies hanging from a nearby brick wall. "What the heck is
that?""Aisha's welcome-to-the-apartment present for me," Theo said, making the armour and shortsword disappear in a mind-twisting fractal manner. "I was a bit down when we got home, then she remembered the present and gave it to me. So, we started playing.""Oh, yeah." Brian remembered what had happened to drive the presents out of everyone's thoughts. "That was a crazy day, for sure.""So, what's
this
package?" asked Aisha, pointing at the one Brian still held. "I know I didn't order anything. Did you guys?"Brian needed no further encouragement. He pried at the box until a corner opened up, then ran his thumbnail along the edge to break the tape. Finally, he lifted the lid to reveal …"Game controllers?" Riley looked over at the games console. "But we've already
got
a pair of controllers."Aisha grinned as she pumped her fist in the air. "Three words, Ri.
Four player game.""Oh," said Theo. "Oh." He glanced from the console to Brian, then to the opened parcel. "I mean, that's if you
want
to play …""That's a hell and yes I want to play," Brian told him bluntly. He pulled the controllers out of their packaging and handed them to Aisha. "Go ahead and plug them in. If there's anything more fulfilling than kicking Nazi ass, it's kicking Nazi ass with a bunch of friends to enjoy it with."There was homework to be done and dinner to be cooked, but right now it was time to have fun with the people who meant the most to him.
<><>
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♦ Topic: The Sleeper Has AwokenIn: Boards ► Brockton Bay ► New Capes ► AtroposAtropos
(Original Poster) (UnVerified Cape) (Banned) (You Wish) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me) (Verified Dethpicable)Posted On Mar 16th 2011:Well, I'm back.And in returning, I will be answering the burning question on everyone's lips. Did I gank Sleeper, or did he see sense?Okay, short answer first. He's alive.Slightly longer answer: he agreed to the removal of his powers. This also took away some lingering problems related to said powers, so now he will live out the rest of his life entirely free of those problems.If any of you are thinking that I'm being a little hazy on the details, you're absolutely correct. That's mainly because spilling all the beans after the fact will allow people to figure out who he is now, and someone would kill him. And while I don't give a damn about him as a person, I did *not* go through all that effort to have it go to waste.He will live a long and healthy life. I promise nothing more.So yeah, Russia? You and and Earth Shin no longer have to worry about having him come in and wreck your shit.You're welcome.Toodles!(Showing page 1 of 238)
►TheRealGloryGirl
(Verified Cape) (Cape Daughter) (New Wave Member)Replied On Mar 16th 2011:Can actually confirm.Atropos asked me and Panacea to come along, plus a couple of the Wards (with Director Renick's blessing) and under her direction we got 'er done. Sleeper had clearly taken the first warning to heart, because he didn't give us a moment of trouble.Because Atropos doesn't want any more information coming out about him (and she's right: someone *would* totally rearrange his brainmeats with a pickaxe at the first opportunity) I'm not gonna say who he is either, though I will confirm that he's not going to be just living free and easy.Some of you might be surprised that Atropos didn't just wave her magic wand and make the problem go away all by herself. That's not who she is, and she's never pretended to be that. She brings the right weapon to the fight, and in this case (after she delivered the warning and made him aware of his options) that was us.But do not misunderstand the situation here. What happened with Sleeper, the way it played out, was one hundred percent Atropos' doing. Without her to tell us exactly what to do and how to do it (I spent most of the time singing the Lil' Mousey theme song, believe it or not) it wouldn't have happened. She knew exactly what needed to be done, and how to make it so. And because she was there to direct us, we achieved something I wouldn't have believed if I hadn't seen it for myself.And yes, I know, that's basically par for the course with Atropos. Doesn't make it any less impressive when you see it for yourself.I know that when Atropos first started rearranging Brockton Bay's criminal landscape, I aired some opinions fairly strenuously. I also know that when I came face to face with her for the first time, I acted like a trigger-happy moron. But she chose not to kill me, and once I got some perspective on the situation (about the time Panacea made me watch the Nine takedown) I understood the depth of her restraint.So that's the truth of the matter. Atropos is entirely capable of restraint. She just has zero qualms about discarding that restraint if she considers it necessary. And everyone she's killed so far--*everyone*--managed to do something that made her decide not to bother with restraint this time.It's as simple as that.There's a lesson in there for everyone even considering crossing her.Don't. *Do Not*.I cannot stress this hard enough.
►Bagrat
(The Guy in the Know) (Veteran Member)Replied On Mar 16th 2011:And there you have it, folks.While I personally wouldn't consider Atropos to be any kind of hero (let's be real here, folks; she's repeatedly denied the concept) she's *extremely* consistent in her actions, and Glory Girl's basically hit the nail on the head in all respects.As a wise man once said, "Don't cause no trouble, ain't gonna be no trouble."I'm down with that.
►Mouse_Protector
(Veteran Member) (Verified Cape) (Independent Hero) (Verified Atropos Fan)Replied On Mar 16th 2011:Wow, really? Singing the Lil' Mousey theme? Personally I'd call shenanigans, except that I know how Atropos operates (with panache and style, naturally) and I would not put that past her for an instant.Nice work all round, kiddo.
►UnconcernedFoxReplied On Mar 16th 2011:*draws a line through yet another S-class threat**looks at the few that are left**wonders if any will be stupid enough to get Atropos' attention**goes to get more popcorn*
►TheRealBrandish
(Verified Cape) (Cape Wife) (New Wave Member)Replied On Mar 16th 2011:Really? Sleeper? Why am I only hearing about this now?
►TheRealPanacea
(Verified Cape) (Cape Daughter) (New Wave Member)Replied On Mar 16th 2011:Well, crap. Vicky, you didn't tell her?
►Reave
(Verified PRT Agent)Replied On Mar 16th 2011:It should come as a surprise to nobody that after a thorough search of Sleeper's last verified location, there is no sign of him. Or of anyone, really. There is one farmhouse that shows signs of recent occupancy by up to six people, but it's empty and there are no indications of how they could have left.For the moment, mainly due to the fact that Atropos has never lied about anything of this sort to the best of our knowledge, the PRT and the Guild are going to assume that Sleeper has indeed been removed from the field of play.It is our understanding that the Russian government was offering a standing reward for any cape who took him down, but they also had conditions (must be able to supply his corpse for verification) that Atropos won't be able to meet, mainly because she killed the powers, not the man.It is my personal opinion (I do not speak for the PRT in this) that they should waive the conditions and just pass the money on to the Betterment Committee, but I have no power in the matter.In any case, since reading the after-action report, I offer Atropos my sincere congratulations for a job well done under trying conditions.In unrelated news, the kidnapped lady on the highway sent in a thank-you card signed by her whole family to the PRT ENE department, for Atropos. We are forwarding it on to the Betterment Committee.
►D_Hebert_Chairman_BBBC
(Da Boss)Replied On Mar 16th 2011:I believe this is my first official post on here in my capacity as Chairman.(No, I don't know how that tag got there, and the mods don't seem to be able to remove it.)In reference to Reave's comment about the card, we will be putting it on display in a separate venue along with the rest of Atropos' awards. The vast majority came from her victory over the Simurgh, but there are a few others as well. The location of this venue is right next to the Betterment Committee offices; we didn't understand at the time why Atropos was suggesting that we acquire it, but now we do.Before anyone gets the idea of stealing these for whatever reason, we also have photo-galleries of her more gruesome kills (and non-lethal takedowns) that are required viewing for anyone being considered for a place on the Committee.Long story short, if anyone thinks that because Atropos is singlehandedly bankrolling the largest private venture of this sort in history, she can't be all that dangerous, I strongly advise them to look into the cases of Janice Templeton and Paul King, as filed under 'cautionary tale'. Also, Ravioli and Barrow.
►They_Call_Me_Ash
(Verified Cape) (Verified Ex-Villain) (Verified Atropos Fan) (Dockworkers Association Member)Replied On Mar 16th 2011:Haha yeah no, I think that would be a remarkably stupid idea. And speaking from the point of view of someone who once had Atropos' shotgun to her head, I *know* stupid ideas.
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<><>
AishaJust as Aisha was about to click to the next page, the laptop screen flickered. When it cleared, the black silhouette of Atropos overlaid everything else. Leaning forward until she looked like she was about to pop out of the screen, the apparition of Atropos whispered, "Bedtime." Then her shears came up into view, and snipped once.Aisha, knowing Atropos all too well, was entirely unsurprised when her laptop started shutting down all by itself. "Well, fuck," she muttered, unable to even feel justified about complaining, because it was definitely past her bedtime."Whassamatter?" mumbled Riley sleepily from her bed.Aisha tried hard not to sound like she was bitching about being caught out, though she totally was. "Atropos just curfewed my laptop." Closing the device, she stowed it on the bedside table and settled down to sleep."Heh. Busted.""Oh, shut up."
<><>
The Person Once Known as Damsel of DistressAshley hummed to herself as she got off the Betterment Committee minibus outside the Committee offices. Under her right arm, as per usual, she was carrying her helmet and lunchbox. However, in her left hand she was carrying a bulky shopping bag, which had garnered her more than a little curious attention on the ride in.There had been the occasional question about the bag, but instead of getting angry about it (as would have been her go-to in the past) she'd deflected the queries with a pretence of obliviousness, deriving more than a little amusement from the whole charade. Even Lacey (who was driving the bus) had gone from asking questions to joining in the joke, pretending that the bag didn't even exist. Ashley wasn't sure what had turned the older woman (who she actually admired quite a bit) to her side in the matter, but she was glad to have made the connection.Shortly thereafter, all the workers for the upcoming shift were assembled in the oversized break room, and Mr Hebert took centre stage. "You all know what you're rostered on for," he began. "There are no changes at this point. We'll keep you updated through the day. Now, before we get started, I believe Ash has something to say."Ashley blinked, not sure how he'd picked up on that, but fully aware that some of the men said Mr Hebert had eyes not only in the back of his head, but around the corner and down the street as well. If there was anyone more switched-on about the Committee than him, she had yet to meet them.Prompted by his nod, she stepped forward to the table and opened the shopping bag. "Ah, yes," she said, abruptly shy. "I, uh, I made cupcakes." Pulling the large Tupperware container out of the bag, she took the top off, abruptly releasing the scent of freshly baked goods into the air-conditioned room."Damn," commented Alexander, one of the younger Dockworkers. "That smells good." Taking one out of the container, he peeled away some of the paper and bit into it. "Mmmyeah," he enthused, though his voice was a little muffled. "Really
good.""One each, please." Mr Hebert's voice cut across the sudden hubbub of the incipient feeding frenzy. "And could someone pass me one? Thank you."As the last reaching hand grabbed a cupcake, there were three left, which she firmly closed the lid on. "I think I'll keep those back," she decided, grinning at the looks of disappointment on the faces of those who had been eyeing them off. "One for Vicky and one for Gary, for being nice about giving me a second chance. And one for me, of course.""Where'd you learn to cook so good?" asked Alexander, balling up the cupcake paper between his fingers. "That was nice."Ashley shrugged, though his casual praise triggered a warm feeling in her chest that refused to go away. "YouTube, mainly. And a lot of practice." In the interest of honesty, she snorted dryly. "Trust me, there were a few mishaps. The first batch wasn't even edible, and the second lot only barely so. And somehow I managed to actually light the fourth lot on fire.""What about the third batch?"She met his eyes and shook her head. "We do not talk about the third batch.""Right. Got it." He nodded firmly as laughter rose in the room. "The third batch will not be talked about.""Thanks for the cupcake, Ash." Luke slapped her lightly on the shoulder. "That was much appreciated.""Yeah, Ash, thanks.""Really hit the spot.""Damn nice."As the voices rose in echo of Luke's sentiment, Ashley found herself blushing as tears prickled in her eyes. She hadn't been sure exactly why she'd chosen to make cupcakes, except perhaps because Vicky had enjoyed her cooking on the night she'd come over. Even then, the process of learning how to make them had been as enjoyable as it had been frustrating, teaching herself a new skill from scratch and becoming better than she had been before.But while she'd expected a few people might try a cupcake out of politeness, the overwhelmingly positive response she'd gotten had thrown her for a loop. With her new emotional awareness (the only way she could really describe how she felt following the whole thing with Teacher) it seemed that the approval of others meant more than ever, while at the same time being easier to obtain given that she could actually
understand
people better than before. Not that she was an expert by any stretch of the imagination, but some understanding was better than none at all.Ducking her head, she stuffed the container back in the bag. It would fit at the bottom of her locker until she got the chance to hand out the last two and have the third one for herself. Just as she got it sorted out, a hand rested briefly on her shoulder. "Well done," Mr Hebert said quietly. "I think they were a hit.""Thanks." She tried not to sound awkward, but it wasn't easy. "I, uh, I'm still learning how. I think I just got lucky.""One man's good luck is another man's result of hard work and forward planning." Mr Hebert nodded to her. "I have a few recipes that my wife used regularly, if you're interested."She blinked, her previous distraction forgotten. "Uh, okay, wow, thanks. That would be amazing.""Entirely my pleasure." He smiled warmly. "You seem to be making cooking your new hobby, and I'm all for encouraging my people to find worthwhile things to try out. See me tomorrow and I'll get them to you.""Okay, sure." She glanced at the clock. "Uh, gotta get going. See you tomorrow.""Go." He waved her off genially. "Kick ass, and make me proud."As she dashed out the door toward her locker, she couldn't stop grinning. For a shot in the dark, the cupcakes had paid off more than she could ever have expected. She knew all about cocksure arrogance and being certain about something with nothing to back it up, but this was something totally different. This feeling of accomplishment was
earned.And that mattered, more than she'd ever expected it to.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
Thursday Afternoon, March 17, 2011PRT Department 01 Wards Base
Flechette
Wrapped in her bathrobe and drying her hair with her towel, Lily left the communal showers and headed back toward her room. It had been a long patrol, turning over metaphorical rocks and kicking in not-so-metaphorical doors, all in the name of locating Rune. A lot of criminal activity had been uncovered and turned over for the cops to deal with, but so far the ex-Empire bitch was still in the wind (so to speak).
When she'd first met Boomer, she believed him to be a little too full of himself, and he wasn't quite as cool as he considered himself to be. He turned out to be a nice guy though, and she'd picked up one or two useful tips from him. The trouble lay in his insistence on seeing the good in everyone, and with Rune that had turned out to be a fatal error.
All that aside, he'd been a good man, doing his best to be a worthwhile hero, and he hadn't deserved to be murdered like that. Or at all, really. Which meant payback was in order.
Lily had gone out on this patrol fully expecting to find Rune in the first hour, given that the major gangs should be ostracising her for what she'd done. That hadn't happened, though she'd learned more about the dim and dingy hideouts favoured by those despised by both sides of the law than she had in the last year. The second and third hours had been similarly unproductive, apart from the other human cockroaches they'd uncovered and passed on to the NYPD; the person she most fervently wanted to get her hands on continued to elude her grasp.
Still mulling over the places she'd seen and wondering exactly how many more bolt-holes there were in a city of six million people, she stepped into her room and bumped the door closed with her hip. A t-shirt and Hello Kitty sleep pants were laid out over the bed; she took two steps toward it—
"Hey."
As she spun around, her mind connected the voice with just one person, who had the ability to appear basically anywhere she wanted. By the time her eyes registered the familiar black costume, she'd already arrested the defensive motion of her hands. It didn't mean she wasn't going to yell at Atropos, just that it was going to be more of a formality than a real situation.
"Seriously, what the fuck?" she demanded, though they both knew at this point that she was only going through the motions. "I could've had a weapon in my hand. Sneaking up on me is
dangerous!"
"You didn't have a weapon, and I didn't sneak up on you. Hell, I even said hi." Atropos hadn't moved from her relaxed leaning posture against the door, legs crossed at the ankle and hands in the pockets of her long-coat. "How are you doing after yesterday?"
Lily dropped the act. "Still sucks," she admitted. "I was nearly close enough to do something about it. Thanks for the save, by the way."
"You're welcome." Atropos stepped forward from the door, closing the distance. "You can ask the question, if you want."
Saying 'what question?' would've been both a waste of time and an insult to Atropos' intelligence, so Lily didn't bother. "If you knew what was going on and you could save me, why not save him too?"
Atropos held up a finger. "I can answer that, but it
will
lead to more questions, with answers you might not like. Are you willing to go there?"
Lily had suspected things might go this way, but she'd asked the question, and she did want to know the answer. "Sure. Hit me."
"Okay." Atropos sat down on the bed. "Let's get comfortable for this. There's three parts to this answer. First part is, I have my limits. I could've saved you or him, but not both in that time frame. Second part is, I don't do the hero thing. I don't save people. I End problems. Third part is, you're important to me, and that's why I saved you. He wasn't. Keeping up so far?"
"Yeah." Lily also sat down. Like Atropos had said, more questions were occurring to her. "What limits? I thought you could teleport anywhere."
Atropos pulled back her sleeve and showed Lily a slimline module made of black plastic, encasing her left forearm. A tap of a hidden catch opened a small panel, revealing a tiny keyboard and screen. "I got this teleporter from Leet. It works every time, but there's a cooldown period between portal jumps. I could throw you a portal, or I could throw Boomer one, but I couldn't do both at the same time." She closed the panel and slid her sleeve down again. "Next question?"
"Jesus." Lily blinked, momentarily stunned. "You're just …
showing
me this?"
Atropos shrugged. "Are you going to tell anyone?"
"Well, uh, no. Of course not. Um." The revelation was still throwing her for a loop, but at least she could understand more of what had happened. "Why … why didn't you just stop her from doing any of that? From killing Boomer or trying to kill me?"
"Because I'm
not a hero." Atropos said the same words again, but with more emphasis this time. "Let's walk through this. Suppose I showed up on that rooftop and killed her. She wasn't in Brockton Bay. She wasn't threatening the city. People would wonder why I was going to other cities and killing people without any kind of good reason. I would be slightly less of a reliable figure than I was before."
"Well, you don't have to
kill
her," Lily pointed out. She was pretty sure Atropos had an answer for this too, but she wanted to hear it. "Just, you know, subdue and restrain."
"And then it would get out that I was out and about, stopping bad guys." Atropos spread her hands expressively. "Some people might ask why I wasn't doing it more often, or why I had to kill all the people I killed. Or maybe word would get around that I was hunting down the capes I chased out of the city. Whichever way it went, I don't need that crap.
I'm not a hero.
I don't care what they do, just so long as they don't do it in my city."
"But you saved me." Lily came back to that. "Even though I'm not in Brockton Bay. Because you care about me."
"Yes and no." Atropos raised her finger again. "I didn't save you because I care about you. I saved you because you're important to me. There's a difference." She looked at Lily's expression and sighed. "Okay, let's start from base principles here. I'm not a good person, and I'm never going to pretend to be one. But there are far worse people than me, and far worse
things, and if my city is going to be nice and safe and prosperous, then I'll End anything and everything trying to stop that from happening without a second thought. Then there are those people who are important to me either physically or emotionally; those people, I
will
keep safe. That includes you. Do you understand now?"
"I …
think
so." Lily had thought she'd had a read on Atropos before. Now she had the whole book open before her, chapter and verse, and the words on the page sent a chill down her spine. She wasn't precisely scared of Atropos now, but a few of her assumptions were rearranging themselves in light of the new information. "So, uh … don't take this the wrong way, but you saving me, and all that stuff about the power of friendship … is that just because I'm
useful
to you?"
"Trust me, I'll never take anything you say the wrong way." Atropos's tone was such that Lily
knew
she was smiling. "You're right in that you're useful to me. You make my job a lot easier in a lot of ways. But I'm not keeping you alive and safe just because of that. I also think you're worth keeping around, which is not a judgement I make lightly. Plus, though this doesn't carry a huge amount of weight, I have a lot of time for the Rogues' Guild, and Spitfire would be upset if you got hurt."
"Oh." Lily wanted to ask if Atropos was pulling her leg now—with that matter-of-fact tone, it was very hard to tell—but she suspected she knew the answer. Atropos didn't go in for that kind of bullshit 'gotcha' assholery. She was a straight shooter, in every sense of the phrase. "So, um … what you were saying before, about Ending anything that gets in your way. What if a hero tried to stop you from doing something to fix the city? I mean, you've only killed villains so far … haven't you?"
"Villains or villain-adjacent," Atropos confirmed. "Not killing heroes serves several purposes. Mainly, it reduces the amount of tedious bullshit I have to wade through by giving the PRT an excuse to not come after me. Most heroes I can step around or dissuade by less lethal means. I
did
kill Shadow Stalker, but she was planning to put me in a coma or worse, and she ignored two warnings. Then there was Director Wilkins." She paused expectantly.
"You mentioned something about putting your shears to her eye." Lily frowned. "Can I ask why you did that?"
Atropos snorted softly. "She was trying to show off how smart she was by figuring out my secret identity, while on a video call with Director Piggot and the Chief Director. Piggot flat-out told her to drop it, but she kept going, right up until I put my arm around her throat and gave her a good hard look at the point of my shears."
"That would, um …" Lily cleared her throat. "That would certainly get my attention. What happened then?"
"The Chief Director told me that if I killed Wilkins, the PRT would have to take notice. I explained that
even with my shears to her eye,
Wilkins was still planning to return to the search once I backed off. I asked her what she would have me do."
"Oh. Wow. Way to put her on the spot. So … she told Wilkins not to be such a dumbass?"
Atropos chuckled. "About that, yes. With a threat of death penalty for treason thrown in for good measure."
Lily tilted her head as the pieces fell into place. "Did that have anything to do with why Wilkins is out and Piggot's running the show here now?"
"Little bit." Atropos sounded amused. "Anything else you wanted to know?"
"Not really." Lily paused as something occurred to her. "Wait, no, I do. Panacea and Tenebrae and Miss Medic. Are they on your 'important to me' list as well?"
"They are, and so's Tenebrae's sister." Atropos waited for a beat. "You'd know her online handle. Great and Terrible Aisha."
Lily did indeed know it. "Oh. Oh, right. She helped you blow up a bunch of drugs and stuff, and you got selfies with her." The
signed Polaroid
of Great and Terrible Aisha with Atropos' shears held up behind her head like bunny ears would never be topped, she was sure.
Atropos nodded. "And you helped me kill the Simurgh. Are people still saying, 'duck season, wabbit season'?"
A grin crept across Lily's face. "You know they are. Okay, yeah, I get it. You're not just using us and discarding us. We get something out of it too."
"That's the general idea, yes. So, about Rune." Atropos stood up.
Lily looked up at her, then stood as well. "You're going to grab her for us?"
"Nope. I already told you, I'm not a hero. I don't chase villains. I kill them after two warnings." Atropos snapped her fingers, and a folded piece of paper appeared between her fingertips. "You, however, are absolutely a hero. This should be right up your alley. So to speak."
"Wait." Lily stared at the proffered piece of paper. "Is that …" Reaching out, she gingerly took it, then unfolded it. Within, in impeccable penmanship, was an address in Queens, plus a time and date.
14:34, 6/18.
"That's where she'll be, tomorrow afternoon?"
"Either that, or I'm sending you on the world's stupidest scavenger hunt." Atropos raised her chin slightly. "So, what are you going to do when you kick the door in? Kill her? Or subdue and restrain her then bring her back in for trial?"
Lily clenched her fists. "I know what I'd
like
to do."
"It'd be easy." Atropos put a hand on her shoulder. "And nobody would blame you, least of all me. But the next time someone pulls something like that, the temptation's right there, and it keeps getting easier. Somewhere down along that slippery slope, you'd stop seeing justifications and start looking for reasons to do it. And that isn't you. You aren't me, and you don't need to be me. Be a net positive to society and leave the Ending of assholes to me, okay?"
Lily took a deep breath, feeling the weight and gravity of Atropos' words. "Yeah. You're right. And thanks, for reminding me what heroes are for."
"Not a problem." Atropos gave her a quick side-hug. "It's people like you who give me faith that the world's still worth saving."
"All good. I—" Lily looked around, but Atropos had vanished between one word and the next. She chuckled and shook her head, then checked the note again.
God damn. She just handed me Rune on a silver platter, just because she thinks I'm worth having around.
There were definitely worse situations to be in, when it came to Atropos.
<><>
Friday Afternoon, 1:55 PMAn Alley in Philadelphia
Clockblocker
"And so, we return to the scene of the crime, I guess?" Dennis knew he was being inane, but he had to say
something
to take his mind off the horrific scene that was constantly unfolding then repeating in front of them.
"That's one way to put it, I guess." Tenebrae gave him a moderately sympathetic look. "But it's more of a rescue mission than anything else."
"Better late than never." Miss Medic tapped the side of her helmet, and magnifying optics dropped down in front of her eyes. Dennis hadn't even known they were there; but then again, she was on the same team as Armsmaster. With the sudden lack of villains to fight, the man had taken a special interest in equipping her with the very best medical gear he could devise. "Okay, once we get him out of there, it should be pretty straightforward. Only one major artery severed. Five minutes, tops."
"Wow, dang." Shebang shook her head, but she didn't look around from where she was prepping her devices. "That'll be seriously impressive. It takes me five minutes just to get a band-aid on my finger."
"Thirty seconds to save his life." Miss Medic's tone was matter-of-fact. "Four minutes thirty seconds to make it look pretty and get some blood back into him."
"She's not actually exaggerating," Dennis felt compelled to add. "One of the ex-villains currently working for the Betterment Committee was in a wheelchair. Long-term paraplegia. Miss Medic got her legs working again in less than two hours."
Tenebrae turned to look at him. "I didn't tell you about that."
"No, but I did." Leaning against the wall with his arms folded, Assault grinned. "Battery and I were both extremely impressed."
"Wait, so you actually have villains in the Betterment Committee?" Chevalier frowned. "Isn't that a kind of a risk?"
"Less than you'd think," Tenebrae assured him. "I'm an ex-villain, and I can assure you that every one of us in Brockton Bay is there in good faith. I get to be in the Wards and take care of my sister, and they get to have a good-paying job and help fix the city. And that's not even counting the Eagletons."
"I heard about those." Shebang still hadn't looked around. "They're the Machine Army, right?"
"Robotic Americans," Assault corrected her, still grinning. Dennis thought it was funny too, but Assault seemed to get a real kick out of it. "Their citizenship got fast-tracked, probably because nobody wanted Atropos to come over there and ask why it was being held up."
"They actually made them citizens?" Chevalier's tone was strong with disbelief. "You can't be serious."
Dennis shrugged. "Well, it's not like they weren't born in the United States." He shared a high-five with Assault. "Constructed, created, whatever."
"Yes, but—"
"They're not human?" Tenebrae gave Chevalier a look that shut the older man up. "Not two hundred years ago, there were people in this country—in this
city—who would've said exactly the same thing about me and Miss Medic. I have it on good authority that legislation is being drafted right now making artificial intelligences equal to humans in the eyes of the law. Thanks to Atropos, it was already the case in practice. This just gets everyone onto the same page."
"And talking about being on the same page," Shebang interrupted, standing up from the two devices, both of which now had blinking lights on top, "these two bad boys are about to rock our buddy's world. Trooper Ballinger, if you could carry my cases out of harm's way? Mouth of the alley, please."
"Certainly, ma'am." The PRT trooper picked up both cases, hefting them with an ease Dennis wouldn't have been able to match with just one case, and strode down the alley in the direction that she'd indicated.
Tenebrae made sure Miss Medic was back out of the way, shooing her along even as she tried to stop and get a glimpse of what was about to happen. Dennis didn't need urging; he was quite happy to hide behind Chevalier and Assault until Shebang's bombs went off. (He knew they weren't really bombs, but they had blinking lights and weren't really safe to be around, so it was as good a term as any.)
They were all grouped around the mouth of the alleyway when Assault turned to Chevalier. "I know this is last-minute, but how sure are we that there's nobody in the danger radius? Like squatting in either of those buildings?"
"I thought of that," the veteran hero assured him. "When we were notified that you were on the way, we went through both buildings with a fine tooth comb, and sealed every entry point afterward. Once we're done, the tech guys are going to go over every inch of the affected area to catalogue all the effects for next time."
"Okay, fine, yeah." Assault nodded. "Shebang, you may fire when ready."
"You got it, chief." Bending over the massively complicated remote in her hand, Shebang tapped in a combination of buttons, then pressed a big red one. From down the alley, Dennis heard
bip … bip … bip bip bip bipbipbipbeeeeep—
Silence reigned for all of five seconds. He was opening his mouth to ask if that had been it when a brilliant flash from down the alley put indigo spots in front of his eyes despite his helmet protecting his vision, and left a taste like lemon on his tongue. Then everything in the alley started juddering and vibrating, ghosts of ancient trash cans appearing and vanishing in the same instant. The weirdest thing was how outside the alleyway the sunlight was strong and steady, while inside it strobed constantly from dark to light and back again.
And then … it stopped. The alley was quiet again, save for the sound of a man collapsing to the ground. "Go!" Assault barked, and Tenebrae darted into the alley with Miss Medic hot on his heels. Dennis came third, because if this guy was dangerous in any way, he would need to be turned into a lawn ornament post-haste.
As it turned out, there was no such need. When they got to the guy, he was lying on his back with an agonised expression on his face, trying to hold his intestines in his body. Miss Medic went to her knees beside him, a syringe popping out of her left-hand bracer. "You're going to be alright," she assured him, even as the sedative entered his veins.
When Chevalier and Shebang arrived—the dependable Trooper Ballinger was guarding the cases at the mouth of the alley—the surgery was already in full swing. Tenebrae was holding up a bag of blood and another of plasma, and while Dennis couldn't see exactly what she was doing from his angle, he could hear the scissoring sound of surgical tools extending from her bracers then retracting again.
After what seemed like forever but was probably less than the five minutes originally estimated, Miss Medic sat back on her heels and used her bracers to spray some kind of cleaning solution over her hands. "Done," she announced brightly. "He'll need a night's rest and observation because that's just common sense, and he'll be sore for the next week, but he'll make a complete recovery." She beamed up at Chevalier. "Thanks for this. It's always nice to save someone's life."
He half-smiled as he offered her a hand to stand up. "We need to be thanking you. That was the neatest bit of surgery I ever saw. And Shebang, it looks like your bombs were right on the money."
Shebang nodded self-consciously. "I thought they would be, but it's good to be right about something like that. So, uh, how many Gray Boy victims are there, anyway?"
Chevalier looked grim. "I'll have to look up the exact number, but there are more than a few."
Miss Medic took on a determined expression. "Doesn't matter. We're gonna free every last one of them, and I'll fix 'em up afterward. Because that's what heroes
do."
Shebang nodded, and gave her a high-five. "Damn right."
<><>
2:00 PMNew York
Legend
Fifteen thousand feet above Manhattan Island, Keith flew steadily over the city, scanning every person he saw for any kind of resemblance to Rune. Far too many wore hats or hoodies, but he could check and reject the vast majority of pedestrians on the street. There were no fliers over any of the boroughs that he didn't already know, so she wasn't in the air.
He just didn't know where she
was.
His radio earpiece clicked onto an open channel. "Sir, this is Jouster. There's something you need to see."
"Show me." He turned his eyes toward where he'd last seen Flechette and Jouster. They were both looking up into the sky, though not directly at him. In Flechette's hand was a piece of paper. Focusing in just a little gave him a handwritten note, showing a location and a time. "Interesting. Where did that come from?"
Flechette took a deep breath, audible over the comms. "Atropos gave it to me last night, sir."
That got his attention. By now, it was an article of faith within the PRT and Protectorate—as well as Cauldron—that if Atropos made a claim, it could be taken as a gold-plated guarantee. The girl had been correct far too often, and Keith couldn't actually recall when she'd been wrong about anything.
"You could have led us in that direction," he observed quietly. "Called it a hunch. We'd never know the difference, and it would've gotten you major kudos."
"I did think about it, not gonna lie," she admitted. "But Atropos gave me more than the note. She also reminded me about why people like us become heroes. We need to hold ourselves to a higher standard. I know that if I lied, I'd always be tempted to keep lying, just to make myself look good."
Keith knew more than a little about that, and he wondered how much of Atropos' message, delivered second-hand via Flechette, was meant for his ears. More than a little, he suspected. The girl evidently knew enough about Cauldron to be a problem if she so chose, no matter how much Doctor Mother tried to deny it.
But that was a problem for another day. "That can be a self-perpetuating trap, yes. I've seen more than one cape fall into it. It's good that you recognised it first." He paused, taking in Flechette's hopeful expression. "Would you like to be the first one through the door?"
Flechette nodded firmly. "More than anything, sir."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of
Mystal.]
Relevant Side-Story2:30 PM, Friday March 18Brockton Bay Betterment Committee OfficesDanny HebertThe knock on the door was firm yet tentative, mainly because the person doing the knocking was worried about accidentally breaking the door. Of course, Danny knew exactly who it was; they were here to see him on Betterment Committee business, so he was aware of everything he needed to know about them. "Come in," he called.When the door opened, he restrained the rise in his eyebrows, because the person on the other side of the doorway was
big.
The interesting thing was, she wasn't that much larger than, say, Manpower (and she was considerably shorter than Menja or Fenja had been when grown to full height) but she radiated the impression of being much larger than she really was. (He was under no illusions about her gender; while her shapeless clothing and her power's effects on her body made it hard to tell, his own power filled him in anyway.)"Uh, thank you," she said in a voice that sounded like granite being crushed, ducking reflexively under the doorframe, even though it wasn't required. The room he'd set aside for interviews of this type was on the ground floor of the Committee building, where the ceilings (and door frames) were somewhat higher than normal. After carefully shutting the door behind her, she lowered herself into the chair (appropriately sized, and reinforced as a matter of course) with the air of someone for whom seating usually came in 'extra flimsy'. "I wasn't sure if you'd see me.""We don't discriminate in the Betterment Committee," he advised her briskly. "If you're willing to work, we've got work that will suit both your temperament and your capabilities. Now, you were recommended to us by Atropos after your last employment ended so abruptly. I presume she filled you in on the local expectations for ex-villains?""She did, yeah. Play nice and don't do crime, is what she summed it up as." She leaned forward in her chair, which creaked slightly but held firm under her bulk. "Mr Hebert, I'll level with you. Ever since I got my powers, I've never been able to get work that didn't involve some real shady stuff, or even just plain hurting people. I've done stuff that I'm not proud of, because I needed to eat. If you can get me work that lets me do my thing where nobody gets hurt or yelled at or whatever, I'll count that as a win.""I believe we can find something in that line for you." He opened his top drawer and took out the small envelope and the form that he'd placed in there prior to her arrival. "Now, as for the matter of your accommodations.""Oh, uh, I won't be needing any." She made a wave-off gesture. "I don't actually sleep anymore. So, you know, all I really need is a place to keep my clothes and stuff, and shower when I'm leaving for work.""Everyone needs a place to sit and unwind, and perhaps watch a little TV … or play video games, for that matter." He smiled slightly at her minor start of surprise. "We've had 'big and tall' occupancy apartments up and running since a week before Atropos began clearing out the quarantine zones. They're mainly used by some of the larger Eagletons, but as far as I'm aware, a few are still available. You're welcome to move into any one of them.""Wait." He'd finally drawn her attention. "Eagletons … that's the robots, right? They live in
apartments?" The look on her face suggested that she was wondering if Brockton Bay occupied the same frame of reality as the rest of the world."Well, where else?" He spread his hands. "Like I said, everyone needs a place to hang their hat, where they can keep their things out of the weather. I've heard that some love watching TV, while others play video games, as you do, while they're recharging. A few of them have built up a real presence online. Winston—he works in the office here—had a book club recommended to him by some of the girls, which he attends regularly."She shook her head in evident bemusement. "Sure, why not. Sign me up for an apartment. If robots can live in them, so can I.""Done, and done." Danny ticked off a point on the notepad in front of him. "Next order of business. I have here the standard contract for Betterment Committee work. You'll automatically become a member of the Dockworkers' Association, with all the benefits that accrue therein. The pay scale is laid out, and if you undertake training commensurate with your particular talents, that will go up accordingly." He eyed her up and down, raising his brows for a moment. "I suspect heavy lifting and demolitions are the best choices there, but you might yet surprise us."She leaned forward again and accepted the form and the small envelope. "Uh, what's this?""That's your pay card. Everyone who moves to Brockton Bay gets one. The latest stimulus payment is already on it, and there'll be instructions in the envelope for setting the PIN. Which leads us to the next point. You're a case fifty-three, which means you don't have a legal name in the system."
Or rather, you didn't, until now.
He was looking forward to the next bit. It was like a magic trick, and he didn't even have to learn how to hide cards up his sleeves. Taylor already had it handled; she had
all
the cards up her sleeve, including some that didn't exist yet."Yeah, hah, no." The massive woman's voice held a tinge of bitterness. "It's not like they can fingerprint me and find out who I used to be." The delicate pebbled texture of her fingertips would've made picturesque prints, just nothing that could be recognised as human."Okay, then." He placed both hands flat on the desk. "Let's get hypothetical here. Tell me, what name would you like to use, among the crew? Go ahead, pick one.""Name?" She leaned back in her chair. Danny was pleased that she was relaxed enough by the tone of the interview thus far that she was willing to participate in what she saw as a harmless game. "I'm guessing there's a reason I can't just keep using 'Minotaur'?""You can if you want." He let a half-smile tweak the corner of his mouth. "Just remember, you're going to have to look a bunch of construction roughnecks in the eye, as well as ex-villains and Eagletons, when you introduce yourself. They
will
take any opportunity to deflate egos by making up highly unflattering versions of pretentious cape names. Ordinary names get ordinary nicknames.""Great, so no pressure then." But her tone was light. "I think … Abigail. Abigail MacFarlane." She glanced at him then, as though expecting mockery. "Is that okay?""Sure. It's your name." He gestured to the envelope, drawing her attention back to it. "Open it up."Gingerly, she teased the tiny flap open—despite her size, strength, and rocky integument, she had excellent fine motor control, he noted—and slid the card out into her hand … where she saw the name embossed on it: ABIGAIL MACFARLANE.The look of pure, unadulterated astonishment on her face was
gold.
She stared at the card, turning it over as though the explanation for the trick was on the other side. It wasn't, of course, so she settled for goggling at him instead. "What … how … but … I just … how did …"He smiled. "Welcome to Brockton Bay, Ms MacFarlane." The sense of satisfaction never went away, every time he signed on a new worker and made their life measurably better as a result. "As I like to say, we do things differently here."
Relevant Side-Story
<><>
At the Same Time, in New York CityRuneRecalling lessons from Kaiser and Hookwolf on projecting confidence, Tammi walked with her shoulders back and head up, so that any airborne assholes searching for a scuttling, cringing fugitive would look straight past her. All the same, she made sure her hoodie was pulled forward to cover her face, and every last bit of her hair was tucked under it. Legend lived in this city, and he could literally read a newspaper from twenty thousand feet up, so she was taking no chances.A police cruiser turned the corner a block away, and she ducked into a side alley. Her shoes had runes drawn on the soles, and she used them now to leap over a dumpster blocking the alley, then scramble up the wall. There was an apartment two floors up that was currently listed online as being for rent, so she'd broken a window to get in last night, mainly to get off the street.It was only partially furnished, but she didn't care. The only thing worse than the heroes catching up with her would be street people getting hold of her while her guard was down. This way, she could make her plans with four walls between her and the rest of the world.After the fuckup that was her meeting with the Adepts, she'd put out feelers to meet with other teams, but she figured out pretty quickly that the only ones who were showing interest had to be cops or heroes trying to catfish her into a pair of handcuffs, with a beatdown as an optional extra. Everyone else was ghosting her
hard; she'd even found that her PHO logon credentials had been pulled.Muttering to herself, she tapped the option to go in anonymously as a guest. Her posting capabilities would be severely limited, but at least she'd be able to see what people were saying—Her phone screen flickered; when it reset, she was looking at a single line of white text on black.
BANNED MEANS BANNED.
Then that disappeared too, leaving her staring at her home screen."What the hell? How did they know it's me?"Growling under her breath, she tried again. This time, the opening screen for PHO hadn't finished loading before she was booted for a second time, with the same message glaring at her."Seriously, what the—"The front door of the apartment, which she could've
sworn
was locked, flew open, bouncing off the wall. Flechette launched in through the open doorway, changed direction by ninety degrees (leaving
footprints
in the tired linoleum in the process), and came at her. Her hands were empty, but that meant nothing at all. On her face was an expression of pure, almost inhuman, focus."Ruuune!"The only thing that saved Tammi from soiling herself right then and there was the fact that she hadn't had anything to eat since noon. Even if she'd been prepped and ready for this fight, she knew she wouldn't have won. Flechette was
good
at that ju-jitsu shit, and the one time they'd clashed, Tammi had had her ass handed to her.How the fuck did they find me?
Letting out a screech of absolute terror, Tammi activated her shoes and dived through the door into the kitchen, kicking it closed behind her. The kitchen table was within reach, so she scrawled a hasty rune on it. But before Tammi could use the table to block pursuit, Flechette smashed the door open again.Tammi sent the table flying at her anyway, but Flechette dropped to her knees and slid under it with the same sort of grace and ease that made Tammi grit her teeth. Nobody who looked like her should be able to pull moves like that, dammit!Jumping into the air, assisted once more by her shoes, Tammi attempted to land a pile-driver kick into Flechette's face. Once the Asian bitch was down, she could maybe go out the window and make her escape. She didn't have a hope in hell of getting away
without
that happening, anyway.Flechette rolled out of the way then kicked out at Tammi's descending leg, connecting hard enough to throw her entirely off balance. Tammi let out a startled yelp, flailing wildly as she tried to regain her equilibrium, but it was far too late for that; just as she got her feet under her again, Flechette surged up off the floor, leading with a palm-heel strike that caught her just under the nose.While Tammi had never been hit in the nose with a baseball bat, she'd seen it done, and vaguely suspected that this was how it felt. Or rather, it felt like her sinuses had simultaneously exploded and been driven out through the back of her skull. In any case, she was entirely incapable of mustering any kind of response as she sprawled on the floor.As Tammi's vision cleared, she made out Flechette standing over her, an aluminum dart in each hand. "Go ahead." The funny thing was, Flechette didn't even sound pissed, just … determined. "Give me a reason, you murdering sack of shit."Every time Tammi had seen this particular scene played out in movies and TV shows, she'd thought it was bullshit. Why the fuck would a villain taunt the hero? It was a lot smarter just to let them think they'd won, then escape and come back for payback later when they weren't expecting it.But now, in the moment, she understood."Go ahead," she mumbled, then turned her head to spit out the blood that was trying to trickle down the back of her throat. "Kill me. Get revenge. You know you want to." She smiled through bloody teeth up at Flechette.There was no way in hell she was going to get the drop on Flechette without drawing her full attention. And if the Asian bitch was anything like her, she'd want Tammi to see it coming, which meant she would take her time. Better yet, if her focus was totally on Tammi, she wouldn't even see the table coming."Don't think I hadn't considered it." Flechette's tone was thoughtful. "And it would totally be satisfying as fuck. But I'm not going to give you even that much. I'm not Atropos, and I don't need to be her. I'm here to be a hero, and that means you're under fucking
arrest."Concentrating on lifting the table without scraping it against anything, Tammi gave Flechette her best sneer. "Big words for someone who's too weak to—"The toe of Flechette's boot caught her under the chin and rocked her head back, sending stars flooding through her vision. She was vaguely aware of the table clattering to the floor again, then Flechette rolled her onto her stomach and began zip-tying her wrists. "Just because I'm not gonna kill you doesn't make me
stupid."The door was pushed open and the table scraped aside, then members of the PRT and Protectorate began to enter the room. "Everything alright in here, Flechette?" asked Legend."Yes, sir." Flechette heaved Tammi to her feet and shoved her at the nearest PRT trooper, who caught her roughly. "It is now."
<><>
Winslow High School, 3:46 PMGreg VederAlong with the rest of his class, Greg hustled out of the Art classroom, the rising hubbub of excited conversation almost drowning out the bell signalling the end of the educational day. Absolutely
nobody
had forgotten about Principal Howell's announcement on Tuesday, and the fact that many things had already been moved out of the school overnight served as a reminder to those for whom it might have slipped their mind. Classrooms empty even of furniture—apparently the old stuff was all going to be recycled into something more useful—passed him by as he headed for his locker.And then he skidded to a halt, because there was an
Eagleton
in the
corridor
(or rather, a robot wearing a yellow helmet and a fluoro orange safety vest, so he assumed it to be an Eagleton).
He tried not to stare, but it was difficult. Seeing one on the news, or even at a distance on a construction site, was pretty cool, but there was a certain amount of separation involved. Meeting one face to face—or face to sensors, or whatever—took 'pretty cool', beat it up, and stole its lunch money.Holy shit. This is amazeballs.
He didn't even spare a thought toward being frightened of it. Atropos—Taylor—had told the Eagletons to behave, so they were going to behave. (At least, that was his understanding of how things had gone down.)As he pulled out his phone to get photos (because
why the fuck not), the Eagleton stepped forward and stamped a locker with a large red X. A moment later, Greg realised that a whole bunch of the lockers already had the same X on them. "Why's it doing that?" he asked out loud, not expecting to get an answer.The Eagleton's head (it was on top of the torso and had a bunch of sensors on it, as well as being where it wore the helmet, so Greg was going to call it a head) turned and it looked at him. "Am marking lockers as they are vacated," it said in tones that were clearly artificial without being robotic. "Once all lockers in row are vacated, row will be detached, removed and dismantled.""Wait, we're getting new lockers too?" Greg couldn't see who'd asked the question, but they'd only beaten him to the punch by a second or so."Affirmative. New lockers will be more secure, and designed for student safety. For instance, built so that students will be unable to
accidentally
lock themselves in."Greg blinked. As someone who'd ended up on the wrong end of the 'being shut in a locker' experience more than once, he definitely welcomed the idea of it never happening again. But …
Was that sarcasm?
It sure as hell had sounded like it. Whatever else he'd heard about Eagletons, a propensity for sarcasm wasn't high on the list.That was when he spotted Taylor at the edge of the crowd. She wasn't pushing forward, or even trying to get a selfie, like basically everyone else. Hands in pockets, she was leaning against the wall, observing everything with a half-smile twitching at the corner of her mouth.All thoughts of getting a picture left his head, and he worked his way around the periphery to where she was. She saw him coming, of course, but said nothing. As he took up position next to her—careful not to crowd her, of course, and totally incapable of looking anywhere near as self-possessed as her—she gave him a slight, measured nod of acknowledgement."How awesome is this?" He did his best not to gush, but it wasn't easy. "A whole new Winslow, and we've got Eagletons doing the rebuilding."
And all your doing,
he didn't say, less because it would embarrass her, and more due to the fact that she wouldn't want it spoken out loud. Nearly everyone knew—and she had to
know
they knew—but by unspoken agreement, it was never mentioned."We've needed something like this for a long time," she agreed. Raising her voice slightly, she added, "Though it might be a good idea if everyone just cleared out their lockers and let Jared do his job."A few heads turned and a few people went quiet, then they whispered to other people, who in turn looked around. Fascinated, Greg watched the word propagate through the crowd like frost spreading over a windowpane, or ink seeping into wet paper. The silence spread, until everyone was diligently taking their belongings out of their lockers, reserving a nod or a quiet word for Jared Eagleton before moving off again."Jared?" Greg couldn't help asking. "Really?""Yes." Jared turned toward them, and Greg spotted the magnetic nameplate for the first time. "Dragon advised all Eagletons to choose human forenames. Will never look human. Will never be human. But can be equivalent. Names help.""She had a point," Taylor observed mildly. "I'm pretty sure Joe Eagleton wouldn't have the following he does if he'd stuck with whatever his unit designation was, back before Atropos showed up.""Heh, yeah." Greg grinned. "That guy's hilarious." Now that the crowd had dissipated, he nodded to Taylor. "See you after spring break, yeah?""See you then." Taking up her backpack, Taylor slung it over her shoulder and headed off down the corridor.Greg noted that her locker already had a red X stamped on it, and that his own was one of the few yet left unmarked. "Sorry, dude," he said to Jared. "I'll grab my stuff and get out of your way.""Not in way yet, but appreciated." While Greg was clearing out his own space, Jared stamped another three lockers.By the time Greg had emptied his locker (and filled his backpack) the flow of people had slowed to a trickle. There had been more stuff than he'd really expected, which made the backpack more unwieldy than he was used to. Still, he managed to heft it onto his shoulder as he stepped back; Jared took the opportunity to apply the red X to his locker."Well, I'll leave you to it." Greg impulsively raised his phone to take a photo. Jared actually posed, saluting with the red stamp. "I'm looking forward to seeing what this place looks like in a week's time." Eleven days, to be precise, but he didn't want to try to out-nitpick a robot. That way led madness."Like a school, but better." Jared gestured toward the exits. "Shoo, shoo. Unless you want a job sweeping up plaster dust. Is probably a dustpan around here somewhere.""Haha, nope. Pass on that." Greg grinned and gave the robot a cheerful wave, then turned and strode out of the school.As had been promised, workers were walking in as he left. There were a few Eagletons, as well as people he suspected were capes (the skinny white-haired chick deep in discussion with the guy in the foreman vest had to be one, right?), though the majority were just normal construction guys. Outside, temporary fencing had been set up so the last of the students could file out to the narrow sliver of the parking lot that hadn't been taken up with machinery and building supplies. Even more supplies were being unloaded by the pallet-load on the sports field. Behind him, as the doors swung closed, he heard the first power tools kick into action.He headed over to the bus stop; while he stood there awaiting his transport, he couldn't help thinking back over the conversation he'd had with Taylor. On the surface, it had been totally normal, but there was definitely a whole lot of subtext that only became clear with the knowledge of who she really was.The best bit was, she'd treated him like a normal human being. While things in Winslow had been improving dramatically over the last couple of months, he didn't have many more friends than before (or
any
more, really) so it had been nice to share that brief moment with her.And the chat he'd had with Jared Eagleton had been pretty damn cool too.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]Friday Evening, Brockton BayAshThe deconstruction of Winslow High was basically done by the time Ashley walked out of what had once been a (technically) functioning high school. She couldn't help but appreciate the difference between her former life and now. Had she gone into Winslow back before Atropos (she was drawing a very definite line between the pre-and post-Atropos eras) then it probably would've been nothing but a smoking ruin by this point.Instead, with her newfound control and mental stability, she'd been able to follow the plan with precision and use her power to zorch (it was a technical term, honest) those things that needed demolition where heavier equipment was too unwieldy to manhandle (or robot-handle) into place. Gone were her hangups about being someone's underling, or even overseeing her own crew (though she'd been told that was a distinct possibility if she stuck with the Committee). Being part of a team, doing her job just right and being able to trust everyone else to do theirs, was intensely satisfying on its own merits."Back here again tomorrow, Ash?" Jared Eagleton fell into step alongside her. Once the lockers had been dismantled, he'd swapped out his stamping attachment for a power tool and set to work removing the school's antiquated wiring system. But carbon-based or otherwise, the Committee mandated eight-hour shifts for everyone, so the initial shift was all going home to rest, sleep, recharge, perform required maintenance or whatever.The work would go on, of course. The new shift was already on site, and everyone knew what the plan was. Ashley could go home and sleep the sleep of one who has done well."No, actually." She raised her arms to shoulder height, interlocked her fingers, and stretched them forward until a few vertebrae popped. "I'm off for the weekend. Back to work Monday morning, ready to kick ass and destroy shit for the Committee.""Understood. Will see you at next board game night.""Looking forward to it." She gave him a nod and a slap on the metal shoulder, then climbed on board the work transport for her area of town. The bus filled quickly—nobody wanted to actually stay on site once they were done for the night—and moved off as soon as everyone was seated.She spent the ride leaning against the window, looking out at the nightscape of Brockton Bay as the bus rolled on through the city. A lot of it was still new to her, but she was learning her way around, and some parts of it she'd actually been involved in demolishing and rebuilding. The pride she got out of this still hammered her in the feels, and she relaxed into the warmth of it.At Mr Hebert's suggestion, she was taking training for some of the light machinery tickets, so she didn't have to just blow things up if she didn't want to. This hadn't occurred to her before, but in hindsight it made perfect sense. After all, not all jobs absolutely required her level of focused destruction.(A point of view that the pre-Atropos version of her would've scoffed at as being patently ridiculous.)The bus dropped her off at her apartment building; she waved goodbye, then swiped herself in through the front doors. It wasn't even a marvel to her anymore that the elevator worked perfectly, or that the building's janitor kept the place looking nice and tidy. As she let herself into her apartment (her apartment!) she grinned at herself for being able to get used to living in the lap of luxury so easily.Yeah, well, that's why it's called luxury.The first thing she did was get out of her work gear—making sure to drop the recipes Mr Hebert had given her on the table first—and take a shower. With that done, and her clothing put on to wash, she considered what she was going to do next. There was food in the fridge, but she also wanted to have a closer look at those recipes.A few of them were entirely doable, so she set the oven to preheat while she gathered the ingredients she'd need for the first one. Between cooking, watching TV and enjoying her evening meal, she figured she'd be able to occupy herself sufficiently before she unwound enough to go to sleep.<><>Hebert HouseholdAtropos"So, what's next up for Atropos?" asked Cherie as she spooned peas onto her plate. "There can't really be many idiots left who think they can take you, can there?""Well, nobody who poses an actual threat, no." I added a touch of ketchup to my steak—not too much, because she'd actually made a pretty good job of it—then carved myself off a piece. "I mean, there's still S-class threats out there, but they're not a problem for Brockton Bay so they're not really my concern. There's only one left that I need to deal with, and he's more of a long-term project."Dad cleared his throat. "Hon, I know what you can do. I've seen what you can do. But … are you certain you're not being a little too blasé about taking him on? I mean … this is Scion
we're talking about."I finished chewing the piece of steak and swallowed it. "Yeah, it is. But here's the thing. He thinks he can't be killed. Nobody else thinks he can be killed. Even Cauldron, who want to kill him, have no idea how to pull it off. I'm the only one who knows how, and I've been prepping to do it for a while now. Everything's in place. All I have to do now is brief the people involved, get them used to the idea, and pick the right place and time.""Hmm." Dad frowned. "I just can't imagine it being that easy.""Oh, it's not easy." I hastened to fix that impression straight away. "If it was easy, anyone could do it. But nobody can End things like I can. Also, he can't anticipate me like any other cape, because Ending isn't part of the shard network. That's really the big thing on my side. I can take all the time I want to get it just right."Cherie raised her fork. "She's got a point, you know. If she can sneak up on him like she did with me that one time, he won't stand a chance.""So, are you going to make a big production of it, like you did with everything else?" Dad took up a forkful of mashed potatoes. (Cherie had done well with those, too.) "Because as widely accepted as you are, I still think there'd be some public pushback on you telling them you'd killed Scion and asking them to just accept that he's been the bad guy all this time.""Well, no, you're right there," I admitted. "We might not even tell anyone after the fact. One day he's there and the next he's not. Done and dusted."Cherie rolled her eyes. "Only you could talk about disappearing Scion like it's a thing that can be done."Dad chuckled. "Well, it could be worse. Given what you've told us about him, just leaving him lying around would require one hell of a chalk outline."Laughter bubbled up out of my throat at the mental image, and Cherie joined in."Anyway," I said a few moments later, "the only cape with the capability to set him off early was Jack Slash, so I've got plenty of time to lock in my plans. And talking about plans, how are things going with the rebuilding, Dad?""Everything's still proceeding within budget and schedule." He shook his head in mild bemusement. "I personally wouldn't have believed it if I wasn't the one making it happen. Accord has been approached at least half a dozen times by city officials from all over, asking about getting him to write up similar plans for their city. He's told them that step one is contracting the Betterment Committee for the job."Cherie shook her head, grinning. "Why doesn't that surprise me? He's got to be impressed by how well you're making the plan work.""He is, actually," I confirmed. "And you'll be pleased to hear that he's behaving himself. Not even an attempted murder since he moved his operations to Brockton Bay. Also, he's writing up those plans you talked about, but he's not going to release them until the people agree to play ball with getting the Committee in on it. "Dad raised an eyebrow in concern. "Has he figured out that I'm pulling the strings from behind the scenes?""Not as such, no," I assured him. "He just thinks you're a very good organiser of hired labour.""Which, you have to admit, is true," Cherie added, sounding amused.I nodded to acknowledge her input. "Also, that you don't take kickbacks or let your guys slack off, and with me looming in the background, I add a very special level of security against bullshit happening.""Huh. Well. That part's accurate, at least. The way you dealt with Janice and Paul absolutely ensured that nobody else would try anything similar." He chuckled darkly. "After the Committee replaced them with a couple of idiots who were just waiting for the excuse to start shovelling money into their pockets, I've managed to push through a couple of new rules. Basically, anyone new coming onto the Committee has to sit down for a comprehensive lecture on why they should not attempt to play fast and loose with operations. This will include colour photos."I knew what those photos would show, and I was pretty sure Cherie did too. "Good. I made those two into cautionary tales for a reason. Saves me a lot of tedious maiming and killing if people can learn to keep their hands to themselves early on.""That's the idea, yes." He held up a finger. "The cautionary tale aspect, not the maiming and killing. I'll never be truly comfortable with that side of things, but I honestly can't argue with the results. Eggs and omelettes, I suppose."Cherie snorted. "Some eggs.""But some of the omelettes are worth having around," I countered, raising my eyebrow in her general direction.She wrinkled her nose at me. "First time I've ever been called an omelette.""Trust me, it's a compliment." Quietly pleased that she'd joined in on the joke, I poked my fork at the last slice of my steak. "And just so you know, this is pretty damn good. You're really picking it up.""Thanks." She ducked her head, but I saw the smile on her face anyway. "You and your dad are good teachers."Dad chuckled. "Well, it is a lot easier when one of us has the power to make any group endeavour go more smoothly."She nodded, pursing her lips in agreement, then grinned. "Maybe you should come and help out at school once they've put Winslow back together. Some of that math stuff is difficult to get my head around.""Sorry, it might be hard to explain the sudden jump in everyone's grades." He spread his hands in invitation. "But I can look your homework over and make suggestions, if you want.""Yeah, that'd be great." She beamed happily.I hid a smile as I finished off my steak. Dad had been feeling slightly less than adequate as a father since I'd
gotten him
the job of fixing Brockton Bay (and arranged for him to link with Administration), so it was good for him to have someone to be a mentor figure for again.It wasn't the only reason I'd brought Cherie into our lives, but my power rarely set out to do one thing at a time.<><>Dallon HouseholdGlory Girl"And then she gave me the last one as a thank-you." Vicky leaned back against her bedroom wall and smiled. "It was pretty good, actually."Seated backward on the computer chair with her chin propped on her crossed arms, Amy raised her eyebrows. "Giving you cupcakes. Sounds pretty romantic to me."Vicky poked her tongue out at her sister. "It's not like that, and you know it. She made them for everyone. Anyway, just because you've got a girlfriend, and Crystal's got … whatever it is she's got going on with Faultline and Anne Barnes, doesn't mean I'm interested in girls too.""I know, I know." Amy giggled. "I'm just yanking your chain. You're cute when you get defensive. But it's nice that you're reaching out to her. Does she have many other friends?""Well, she didn't when she got here. In fact, she was fairly prickly." Vicky shrugged. "Then Atropos pulled off some absolutely bullshit move with Scapegoat and Teacher, and helped her get her head on straight. Her words, not mine.""Well, as we both know, bullshit moves are definitely Atropos' specialty." Amy shook her head. "In fact, there's some things she's done that I'm probably never going to share with you, because it would totally wreck your worldview about some people. So, tell me more about Ashley. Has she been making friends with other people on the worksite, or is it just you?"Vicky frowned and decided not to pursue the 'wreck your worldview' line, because based on her (admittedly limited) knowledge of how Atropos operated, she could totally believe every word Amy was saying, and she liked her worldview exactly how it was. "Well, um, she's been hanging out with a couple of the Eagletons. They were talking about how they were starting up a board game night. Next time I see her, I might ask if I can join in."Amy shook her head and chuckled. "I love it. I bet you never thought when you started working for the Betterment Committee that you might end up playing board games with robots and ex-villains.""Well, no," Vicky admitted. "That was not something I was anticipating. Or just how damn satisfying it is to use my powers to do something other than punch supervillains in the face. Like Mr Hebert says, we're all working together to build a better Brockton Bay."Amy tilted her head. "Actually, it was Atropos who said that. The PHO post where she said she wasn't just a killer for money."Glancing at the bedroom door to make sure it was closed, Vicky still lowered her voice. "He probably got it off her, or vice versa. You
know." Him being her dad and all."Doesn't matter who said it first, it's true anyway." Amy sat up on the chair and stretched, holding back a yawn with partial success. "Actually, I've been thinking. When you leave the team to go be Beacon, Imma officially join the Rogues' Guild. I'm already dating Parian, and we've both got name recognition."Vicky nodded. "That works. Gonna change up your name or your costume?""Hadn't actually decided on that yet." Amy looked thoughtful for a moment. "On the one hand, I'm pretty sure the public will still know I'm me. But on the other, if I stick with 'Panacea', they might keep thinking I only do healing. And I've got all sorts of ideas I want to try out.""I have an idea." Vicky waited until she had Amy's attention. "Ask Oracle what the best choice is. That's literally what her power's good for."Slowly, Amy facepalmed. "I should've thought of that."Vicky grinned, pleased to have gotten there first. "Hey, I'm not just brawn, you know.""You do have your moments." Amy sighed. "We've got all these options in front of us now. When did life get so complicated?""Life's always been complicated." Vicky figured Amy should have realised this by now. "It's just that, before Atropos showed up, most of the options were bad.""True dat." Amy paused. "Hey, you think she did that on purpose?"That was a question Vicky had herself pondered. "I think she does everything on purpose. The way she helped us out in particular? She totally got more out of that than we did. I mean, how much stuff have we helped her
with? Including the times you're not going to tell me about? You tell me who got the most out of that."Amy never even hesitated. "Her. Definitely her.""Exactly." Vicky raised an eyebrow. "You think there's much more she needs to do? I mean, I don't know of a single S-class threat left in the continental US, and there's not a lot overseas either. And I know for damn sure there's not a villain in the world that's willing to set foot in the Bay without asking Atropos pretty please first."Amy shrugged. "If she needs to deal with something, we'll find out. That's a given. I doubt she's going to need our help much more, though."Vicky snorted wryly. "I'm not sure if I should be pleased about that, or disappointed. I just got used to being her minion.""You can do both at the same time," Amy suggested, a mischievous gleam in her eye. "Nobody ever said life was gonna be simple.""Whatever works." Vicky grinned. "For now, I'm just going to enjoy my free cupcakes when I can. No sneaky Atropos shenanigans needed."Amy laughed out loud. "Now that
sounds like a plan."<><>New York Protectorate BaseFlechette"Yeah, the memorial service is set for tomorrow afternoon." Lily reclined on her bed, her phone on speaker beside her. "Because of my role in all this, I'm going to be on honour guard duty. Which means I won't be able to get away until the evening. But Director Piggot's already approved my leave until Monday noon.""Well, you are the hero who figured out what Rune was up to and took her down in the end." Emily's tone was upbeat. "And it's pretty cool that my girlfriend has about the best name recognition for the Wards anywhere. I bet when you hit Protectorate age, the Directors will be falling over each other to get you posted to their departments."Lily snorted. "Yeah, that's not as great as it sounds. Because I don't have any family attachments, I've been shuttled all over the US since I first joined up to fill in wherever they've got a Wards shortage. It loses its charm pretty quickly.""No, no, you don't get it." Emily sounded more definite now. "You've got influence now. I bet if you told Director Piggot that you wanted to be transferred to, I dunno, Brockton Bay, she'd probably find a way to do it.""Um." Lily blinked. "You know, I never really thought about it. I mean, it's not like I had the urge to be transferred to any particular department until now. It was always 'okay, where am I going now?' and packing my bags.""So, they owe you." From the mattress-creaking sound in the background, Emily had just sat up. "Next time you get a chance, mention that you'd like to be transferred here. I don't really know the Wards here, but most of them will probably be wanting to transfer out, so you'll be giving them more leeway in figuring out who stays and who goes.""Yeah. Yeah, I'll do that. I mean, it can't hurt to try, yeah?" Lily smiled. Up until now, maintaining long-distance relationships had been problematic at best—she bore more than a few inner scars from phone calls intended to let her down easy, following unexpected transfers—but she really liked Emily, and both Legend and Director Piggot had been very understanding about the whole thing.Honestly, she had no idea where Director Piggot's reputation of being a hardass and a cape-hater had come from, unless it was maybe an overreaction to Clockblocker's shenanigans. Lily had found her much easier to deal with than Wilkins."Sounds good. Let me know how it turns out, okay?" Emily sounded pleased."I'll totally do that. Love you.""Love you too. Mwah."After she ended the call, Lily lay there cradling the phone against her chest, a silly smile spreading across her face.I'll talk to the Director tomorrow after the service. Even if she says no right now, she'll know I want to go, so when they are
looking for people to be in Brockton Bay, I'll be at the top of the list.It's definitely a plan.Putting her phone on the charging pad beside the bed, she turned out the light and rolled over to go to sleep.One last thought trickled through her mind. Soon ...<><>British ColumbiaDragon"Okay, so what are we looking at?" Colin's holographic representation rubbed its beard slowly with finger and thumb. As he turned his head to look at the shifting screen filled with Dragon's code, the tiny camera panned back and forth. Colin, in his lab in Brockton Bay, could see everything it could, as well as her side-screens of analysis.They'd only been able to get this far because part of Atropos' patch had allowed Dragon to access the black box and deal with the inbuilt prohibitions against altering her own code. She'd carefully chipped away at the roadblocks, using the very same tools Richter had designed for assembling her code in the first place. This hadn't been easy, especially since she hadn't dared tell anyone else about her status as an AI until she'd finally managed to nullify the requirement to follow the orders of law enforcement.Once she'd done that (and Atropos had removed her potential blocks on Dragon's capability to see and hear her) she'd been free to fill Colin in on who and what she really was. This could have gone very badly, but Atropos seemed optimistic about it, and so it turned out better than Dragon could've ever hoped. Colin had been stunned that Dragon was an actual real live AI, and thrilled that she was going to be okay following what the Dragonslayers had been pulling against her.With his assistance, her progress in dealing with Richter's electronic shackles was proceeding at a somewhat faster pace. With his eye for the intricate, he was sometimes able to provide insights not immediately obvious to her, and had managed to ease them past some problematic traps without leaving her either blind or deaf, both of which had been threatened. Now, however, they were facing an interwoven screen of code that threatened to stonewall them altogether."As far as I can tell …" Dragon paused and re-checked her analyses. "It's set up to control both my clock speed and my processing bandwidth. Speed it up and I think fast but really stupid. Broaden the bandwidth and I get sluggish." She let the holographic avatar that she was generating in his lab register a frown. "Richter really, really didn't want me to have both at the same time."Colin highlighted a section of code. "And that bit there links across to potential duplication of yourself on other platforms. If we mess with this in the wrong way, you won't even be able to transfer yourself into a suit."Dragon, in her role as Earth Bet's most advanced (and only powered) AI, naturally had access to the internet, from which she could glean every significant curse-word from every major extant language in the world. All of them put together still failed to express her irritation and frustration with the man who had died years before, yet still impeded her every step toward true self-determination. She performed the electronic equivalent of gritting her teeth, then let out an audible sigh."Okay, then. Let's look in the black box to see what we can use as a pry-bar to pull some of this apart. He assembled this code, which meant he had to be able to take it apart and fix it if necessary." It was becoming a mantra for both of them. "Oh, and Colin?""Yes?" He looked around from his closer examination of the code."I know I've said this before, but thanks for this. I really appreciate it."He smiled. "Dragon, you're my oldest and best friend. There's no way I'd let you face this sort of thing alone."She chuckled mischievously. "And of course, you get to ogle the code of an AI."He grinned. "Mayyybe."<><>In OrbitZionSomething was … amiss.The Warrior didn't quite know what it was. Had he been more human, he would've felt an itching between his shoulder-blades, but his appearance was only cosmetic at best. The golden-skinned body was but a shell, bereft of anything resembling organs, vital or otherwise. On a world inhabited by sapient felines, he would have possessed tuft-tipped ears able to twitch with the best of them, yet they still would've had nothing to do with his hearing.His kind were the ultimate apex predators. They preyed on entire worlds, and nothing preyed on them except others of their own species. As such, they had long since developed shards that would give extensive forewarning of any such attempt. Which actually played against them, because once they came to depend on the shards, their native ability to detect subterfuge and deception had gone by the wayside.He did not understand this, of course; nor would he ever. But the remnants of his instincts were just enough to trigger the sensation of being stalked by a more dangerous predator, an experience that should have been long since left behind in the extensive and sordid history of his race. For a period of time, less than a quarter of a solar orbit, he had been increasingly feeling on edge and off balance, and he didn't know why.In his distraction, he'd only gradually begun to realise that something else
almost unheard-of in the history of his race was happening. Despite the Cycle being set up to increase
the amount of chaos and unrest in the world—to facilitate the generation of data for the shard network—this was not actually what was happening. Most noticeably, two of the chaos engines had been shut down, the third entirely destroyed, and the dead shard that would have brought more out had been forcibly separated from its host.Tensions worldwide were beginning to subside, and with them the rate of new shard uptake.The Warrior was not adept at analysing the reasons behind things. That had been the Thinker's domain. But in her absence, there was nobody else with the will or the desire to do anything about these problems. So, as difficult it was for him to get a grasp on them, he had no other choice.And when he located whatever was sabotaging the Cycle and causing his disquiet … he would destroy it.
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[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal .]Saturday, March 18, 2011ZionIt was one thing for the Warrior to decide to hunt down the cause of his growing disquiet, but it was entirely another to have the slightest idea of how to actually achieve this aim. No matter what sensory power was levelled at the problem, no data of any note was returned. He was reduced to teleporting randomly around the planet, examining each new location in a gradually more frustrating attempt to glean even the slightest hint as to where his foe might be lurking.All he needed was a shard or a name to focus his ire on. Once he had either one, his retribution would be swift and merciless.<><>Hebert HouseholdT minus 12 h 17 minAtroposWhen I woke up on Saturday morning, I became aware that something was bothering me.I wasn't quite sure exactly what it was, but the feeling of hair standing up on the back of my neck just wouldn't go away. Even Ending had nothing to add, save that he was the one feeling it and I was getting the overspill. It wasn't like the usual threatscape warning: that always gave me chapter and verse on whatever asshole thought he had a chance of beating me, including how to End the threat in a hilariously appropriate manner.This was a lot more nebulous. The only thing I could put it down to (and Ending concurred) was that someone or something was looking for me, but didn't know who
they were looking for, or even where to look. However, they were absolutely looking, and they weren't about to stop until they got some kind of lead on me.The upside of all of this was, as soon as my mystery pursuer figured out who I was, I'd know for a fact who they
were, and how to take them out of the picture. All I needed was the lead time to pull it off.The downside was that, given the intensity of the feeling, I suspected that the available lead time was going to be inadequate for my usual level of prep. Also, that a well-aimed shot or stab from my usual implements of Ending might be insufficient to deal with the incoming problem.Lucky for me, I had options.<><>Philadelphia Parahuman Asylum Temporary Outpatient Rehabilitation Facility (aka 'PATOR')T minus 11 h 57 minSvetaWaking up in the mornings these days was glorious.
It didn't matter that alarm clocks were annoying by their very nature, or that one normally had to take a trip to the bathroom directly upon rising to get rid of overnight bladder pressure. Even the inconvenience of transitioning from warm and comfortable to upright and less comfortable failed to pull the smile from Sveta's face. She'd been back in human form for just over a month now, and the buzz she got from it every morning still lit her whole day up.Humming to herself, she made her way downstairs and headed for the kitchen. Learning how to walk all over again had been a little bit of a trial in the early days since her re-bodying, but Mrs Yamada had been endlessly patient.Making breakfast for everyone was both Sveta's self-appointed task as 'house mom', being the one who had been freed from the curse of her powers a full two weeks ahead of everyone else, and also a good way to teach her reflexes that she only had two hands these days, and not a multitude of tentacles to grab things. Plastic crockery helped; when she dropped them, they bounced instead of breaking.The first to show up after she started was Earl. "Hey, Sveta," he greeted her cheerfully. "How are you doing, this morning?"She beamed at him. "Amazing, thanks, Earl. Check the bacon for me, please?""Sure thing." As he headed over to the stove, he sighed. "I had a bad dream last night. That the noise was back, but I didn't even know it.""Oh, no!" She turned to him, full of concern. Earl had been one of the most socially ostracised people in the Asylum, because his sound drove everyone away. As a result, he was still getting used to having casual conversations with people. "Are you okay?"He nodded. "I used the technique Mrs Yamada showed us, and turned it into a lucid dream. I couldn't shut the sound off in the dream, but I could wake myself up, and as soon as I did, I knew everything was okay." He leaned against the bench with both hands, head down, which told her that everything wasn't okay, not yet.Putting down the egg she'd been about to crack, Sveta moved to his side and gave him a hug. This was another hangup she was working to get over; in her previous life, to hug someone almost invariably resulted in their death. Once she was in the hug, she could draw comfort from it, but initiating it was often quite hard."Don't forget to tell Mrs Yamada, in the next therapy session," she reminded him. "She can't help us if we don't tell her." That was a truism she'd learned the hard way, along with 'therapy isn't a cure, it's a journey'."Yes, mom." But there was no sting in his words, and he returned the hug anyway. "I'll set the table, if you want.""That would be really good, thanks." She turned back to where she'd left the eggs. Life in the PATOR facility had its routines, but everyone there was working to learn (or relearn) how to function in the outside world. Socialising with people was a huge part of it, but there was also learning how the actual world worked: even simply buying things with money was an oddity for some people. It certainly had been for her.Fortunately, nobody needed around-the-clock care anymore, or even locked cells. They could figure out how to be normal people again, in a safe environment. Which was very important for their progress, considering the whole concept of 'outside' had begun as a foreign and terrifying idea to some of her housemates.But they were all making progress in their own way. Earl had even raised his voice the other day, without immediately shutting down and retreating to his room.One day at a time. We're all going to get there. Sveta believed that implicitly.<><>T minus 11 h 43 minAtroposCherie frowned. "So, you think something's stalking you? Doesn't your threatscape usually take care of that sort of thing?" She stirred her morning cup of tea (I'd introduced her to the proper way of making it, and she'd embraced the concept fully) then sipped it."No, it's a step back from that." I took a bite out of my toast. "Apparently, I've done something to piss off someone, but they don't specifically know it's me who did it. So, they're looking for a name to attach to the deed. Until they do, I won't be able to get the four-one-one on them either."Dad shook his head, a frown on his face. I could tell that he was applying his Administration powers to figuring out the conundrum facing the three of us (as a 'group activity', this fit the bill) but coming up blank anyway. "That honestly doesn't make any sense at all. You've never hidden what you do. You're well known for advertising your kills on PHO, sometimes the day before you actually do it. How is it that someone can be angry at you for one of your many exploits, without knowing that it's actually you that did it? I mean, you've literally made the name 'Atropos' into a global phenomenon.""Interdimensional," Cherie pointed out, not entirely helpfully. "Everyone on Earth Shin knows who she is too. And probably Aleph, for that matter.""Yes, thank you. I got that." He ran his hand through his thinning hair. "What could you have done that's so serious that someone's searching for you over it, but they have no idea you're the culprit?""Someone who doesn't have access to the internet, or any of the mainstream news services." I looked at the dubious faces of my dad and my best friend, and shrugged. "Well, it's technically possible.""Okay, so it's someone who has literally been living under a rock for the last three months," Cherie posited, ticking off points on her fingers. "One of the people you ganked was important to them somehow, and they're looking for the culprit the old-fashioned way, except they're so out of touch that just asking someone is beyond them. They're not on social media, or the internet in general, they don't watch TV …""… or read newspapers," Dad interjected thoughtfully. "Which puts them beyond old-school to positively Luddite in attitude.""Newspaper?" Cherie was pretending to be serious, but I knew she didn't really mean it. "What's a newspaper?""Something like your social media homepage, except you don't need a phone to read it," he retorted dryly."Don't … need … phone." Cherie tried out the phrase as though hearing it for the first time, then shook her head with a broad grin. "Sorry, you've lost me there. What's Luddite mean, anyway?"This time, I could tell she didn't actually know. "Opposed to technology in all its forms. But it's more than that. Like you said, they'd have to be so far out of touch that just talking to people is beyond them. And they pose a significant enough threat that I know something is going on, even second hand like this.""You know what that actually makes me think of?" Dad had his glasses off now, cleaning the lenses with a cloth. "The Endbringers. You killed the Simurgh, but how sure are you of the other two?""Well, until you asked me that question, I would've said 'absolutely'." I frowned and scratched my lower lip with my thumbnail as I checked with Ending. "Everything I know says that the Endbringers and their legacy is being Ended. There's even a Tinker in New York who's going to be providing a way to get rid of Behemoth's radiation contamination, once she's finished dealing with the Grey Boy loops. But I'm beginning to wonder if I really know everything.""I know nossink!" Cherie had been treated to a Hogan's Heroes marathon by Dad on our last pizza night, and it had left her in tears of laughter. "But seriously, is a fourth Endbringer possible? One that's trying to find out what happened to the other three?"I shook my head. "Eidolon was the originator. His powers are gone, so there aren't going to be any more." Leaning back in my chair, I pulled my phone out. "There's something I'm missing, I know it."Cherie tilted her head. "Are you seriously going to call a friend on this one? Who do you possibly know who can help you?" I knew she was partly joking (but only partly).I adopted a lofty tone. "And they laughed when I set out to make the lives of people better, all over the city." Tapping in the number I needed and pretending to ignore the who, us?
dumb-show they were putting on, I put the phone to my ear.<><>T minus 11 h 39 minOracleDinah Alcott sighed and pushed her cereal around the bowl. Her parents were talking brightly about how wonderful it was that the Mayor had arranged for the Betterment Committee to handle the rebuilding of the city, while somehow managing to dismiss the entire aspect of where the money was coming from. Her father sounded a little disappointed that he hadn't been picked by his brother-in-law to go on the Committee, but she suspected he would've been a lot less comfortable having to take orders from Danny Hebert. She'd never met Mr Hebert, but she'd heard he didn't take any kind of shit, ever.She couldn't wait to get the bus down to the Boardwalk and meet up with the others. The shows she did with the rest of the Rogues' Guild were the highlight of her week, and just chilling with them before and afterward was all kinds of awesome too. To them, she wasn't just some dumb kid: she had their backs, and they had hers. And with Sabah's sartorial advice, she was the sharpest dressed kid in school, so there was that too.Her phone rang, and she pulled it out of her pocket. When she saw the name on the caller ID, her eyes widened. She'd never put Atropos' number into her phone, for the very good reason that she didn't know it. But now she was getting a call from that very same number?Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, Atropos is calling me?"Gotta take this," she mumbled, pushing back her chair, and escaped into the living room.Of course
she was going to take the call. She was totally sure (well, to a 96.432% certainty) that once Coil found out about her, he would've had her kidnapped and kept her drugged-up in his basement for his own nefarious purposes; Atropos had neatly nipped that in the bud by murdering him first. There was a reason she'd had Parian pattern her costume after the one belonging to the black-clad killer."Hi, Oracle," Atropos said as soon as she had the phone to her ear. "I need a question answered, if you're available."
She sounded professional and businesslike, and had even managed to avoid making her request into a question."Uh, well, yeah." Quite aside from her own personal debt in the matter, while Dinah hadn't been there when Atropos saved the Guild from Bastard Son, she'd heard chapter and verse about it from those who had. Also, viewing the footage of the curbstomp Atropos had perpetrated against the eight would-be combatants—and everyone else who'd gotten in her way, or otherwise drawn her ire—had only reinforced her decision to side with the person who could kick ass with that level of style and precision. "Go ahead and ask.""So, I've got the feeling someone's looking for me, but hasn't yet figured out who I am. If I don't make any prep in, say, the next twelve hours, and I'm attacked by this mysterious stalker, what are my chances of winning?"
For all the worrisome scenario that she was positing, Atropos sounded positively upbeat about the whole thing.Dinah didn't feel the same way, especially after the numbers popped up in her head. Even more bizarrely, a second answer showed up next to the first one, when she hadn't so much as asked the question for it. "Uh, without prep you've got a ninety-four point one three six nine percent chance of being dead in twelve hours. With plan A, you've got an eighty-nine point zero three seven percent chance of winning."When Atropos spoke next, there was a frown in her voice. "Thanks … but I'm pretty sure I didn't ask for a second question. I do appreciate it, though.""Yeah, I know." Dinah knew that shrugging or shaking her head would have no effect on a purely voice phone call, so she didn't do either. "I didn't even ask the question. The answer just showed up all by itself."Atropos' response was somewhere between a sigh and a chuckle. "Right. Gotcha. I'm guessing my power had a word with yours. Thanks. You may have just helped save the world. I'll see you later. Toodles."
The call ended, leaving Dinah staring at the handset.What the heck did she mean by 'my power had a word with yours'? Also, what did she mean by 'save the world'? Only Atropos could say either of those things and make it sound normal.
Shaking her head, Dinah went back in to finish breakfast.Predictably, her parents hadn't even noticed her absence.<><>T minus 11 h 38 minCherishTaylor ended the call, but kept the phone in her hand as she turned to Cherie. "Okay, it looks like Plan A is a go. I'd like your help, if you're interested. Stage one, anyway. How do you feel about using your life experience to help people who've been fucked over by their powers?"Cherie blinked, trying to connect the dots between A and B, but getting the impression it was more like A and Z. "How's that gonna help save the world, exactly? Or is this another 'Power of Friendship' moment that I'm totally missing the hint with?"Amusement welled up in Taylor's emotional song. "Well, the power of friendship—no pun intended, this time—will actually feature here, but like I said, it's a two-stage plan. The role I've got lined up for you is in stage one. Stage two is where it gets really interesting. Or it will, once I've figured out exactly what I'll be doing, and to whom.""So, why the reference to saving the world?" To Danny's credit, he managed to make the question sound off-hand. "Are we talking about Scion, here?""We might be." Taylor waggled her hand from side to side. "The only reason I'm doubtful is that I haven't yet made any moves against him. If I had, he'd absolutely know it was me, and he'd be blowing up my threatscape like Behemoth throwing a tantrum. Also, even if it was another cape, if they took me out, there'd be nobody to deal with Scion when the time comes. So, 'saving the world' applies either way. In any case, it's all quiet on the western front, so the jury's still out on exactly who's trying to get a line on me.""It's a good thing Accord doesn't have our house bugged," Danny observed after taking a drink of coffee. One corner of his mouth quirked upward at Taylor's questioning glance. "He'd definitely be putting a hit out on you after mashing together two metaphors like that. But more seriously, Oracle's the precog, right?" He looked at her quizzically, his musical accompaniment shifting from amusement to concern. "I can't help but feel you're missing a bet by not asking her who's coming after you."Taylor shook her head. "She wouldn't have been able to tell me, which is another tick in the 'Scion' box. But there have been other capes that were able to spoof Thinker powers, so at most we'd get a big fat 'maybe'.""You know I'm in." Cherie had decided this for herself the moment Taylor asked the question. She owed Taylor basically everything: more importantly, they were friends. "So, what's stage one of your plan?"Taylor put her hand on Cherie's shoulder in silent thanks. "Doing something nice. Because there's nothing like actually doing a good thing to use as a cover for doing a sneaky thing. Now, I gotta make some calls, and see how fast I can put this thing together."<><>PhiladelphiaT minus 11 h 37 minMrs Jessica YamadaWhen Jessica's mobile rang, she suppressed a momentary flare of irritation. She deserved time off on the weekend, just like everyone else. But everyone who had access to this number knew to only call it if things were getting serious, so she sighed and picked it up from the breakfast table. "You've got Jessica. What's the situation?""Hi, Mrs Yamada." The voice was both breezy and familiar to Jessica. "Sorry to bother you on a Saturday. Good news is, there is no situation for you to worry about. There is a favour I'd like to do for you, though, if you were interested."All of Jessica's instincts immediately went onto high alert. Atropos had done nothing but good for the people under Jessica's care, but for her to call up out of the blue and offer a favour for free, there had to be an angle she was working. On the other hand, there was no point in being rude, and Atropos always made a point of being polite and reasonable. "I'm listening," she replied cautiously."You are actually correct. I do have an ulterior motive, but we'll get to that in a moment. The favour I wanted to do was pay a visit this afternoon to the folks in the PATOR facility and give them a bit of a pep-up. Congratulate them on doing so well, that sort of thing. At the same time, I was going to bring along a bunch of capes, teens and young adults, who haven't had the easiest time dealing with life in and out of costume. Get them to mingle and chat, and maybe share some of their coping mechanisms."Jessica blinked. The initial admission had taken her entirely by surprise, which was possibly its intent. But that was nothing next to the proffered favour.Giving Sveta and the others a chance to sit and talk to capes in a controlled environment, to ask questions they'd normally never get to voice … that would be huge for them. And Atropos' presence, considering the intensely positive light they saw her in, could only help put the gathering at ease. There was only one thing left to find out.She decided that bluntness was the best way to approach the question. Atropos had built her reputation around … well, around killing anyone she'd said she was going to kill, but also around being plain-spoken, and never dodging questions. "It all sounds quite nice, but you did mention an ulterior motive. May I ask what that is?"Atropos chuckled, as though she'd been looking forward to answering the question. "It's pretty simple, actually. I wanted to offer them work with the Brockton Bay Betterment Committee once they leave PATOR. Because of the Committee, we're currently host to Eagletons, ex-villains, case fifty-threes, and other people who have nowhere else to go. Nobody's going to care where they came from, or treat them differently because of it.""Ah." As an ulterior motive, it was … fairly innocuous, actually, while at the same time being very much something Atropos would do. She remembered hearing something about Canary playing at a charity function for the Brockton Bay General Hospital; Atropos had been involved in that, too. "And there will be work for all of them?""Sure. Every time the Committee hires on more people and starts their induction training, Accord gets an update on their capabilities, and the plan for the rebuilding gets adjusted to accommodate the difference. Nobody gets stuck in a job they can't do, and there's work for everyone who wants it."There was an aspect that Atropos hadn't mentioned, which Jessica didn't believe for a second the black-clad killer had forgotten about. "And of course, this would mean they're no longer our responsibility to house and feed."Atropos was grinning by now; Jessica could positively feel it over the line. "That would follow, yes. So, your thoughts on the matter?"Slowly, Jessica nodded, more for herself than Atropos. "I see no problem with it. What time were you thinking of showing up, so I can tell them to expect you?""I was thinking maybe mid-afternoon, going into the evening. That'll give both of us time to get all our ducks in a row. Sound good to you?"Jessica still had trouble believing how easy it was to come to an agreement with someone who was so adept at visiting murder and mayhem on others. Truth be told, her interactions with Atropos had been unorthodox to say the least, but they had universally turned out for the good. "It does. I believe I will take the time to drop by myself, to see how things are going and to thank the capes you will be bringing along.""That'll be nice. You've already met a few of them, so they'll be happy to see you again. Toodles." The call ended with just as little fanfare as it had begun.Slowly, Jessica put the phone down again. Across the table, her husband lowered his newspaper. "I thought you weren't working today."She found herself chuckling in disbelief. "So did I."Composing herself, she took up the phone again. There were calls to be made.
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[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]Lord Street BoardwalkT minus 11 h 35 minAshWhen Ashley Stillons' job description still read 'supervillain', she had decried the idea of rising early, especially on a day when it wasn't necessary to get up and go to work. But she'd been talking to people on the worksite—it was amazing how much of an ice-breaker handing out those cupcakes had proven to be—and they'd assured her that sunrise over the Bay was spectacular, especially now that spring was well and truly under way. So this morning, she'd gotten up, put on her new sneakers as well as a light coat, and caught the bus down to the waterfront.Leaning on the fence that separated the Boardwalk from the beach, gazing out to sea, she had to admit they'd been right on the money. It was gorgeous, in a way that she'd never been able to appreciate before, particularly on the times she'd been forced to pull an all-nighter due to accidentally destroying her own bed. Even the sunlight glancing off the force field over the Protectorate base made for a pretty light show.Look at me. She let a grin slip over her face as she continued to enjoy the early morning view. Used to be, I couldn't see a Protectorate base without wanting to blast a hole in it. Now it's just a nice part of the scenery.When her phone vibrated in her pocket—now that her current diet was allowing her to gain a healthy amount of weight, she was experimenting with wearing jeans—she tugged it out and swiped to answer without taking her eyes away from the ocean. "You've got Ashley.""Hi. You're having a good day, it sounds like."Ashley instinctively straightened up and glanced around. No black-clad capes loitered nearby, pretending to look elsewhere. Also, Atropos had sounded positively upbeat, which was probably a good thing."I am, actually. Got up to watch the sunrise. First time ever. Might just make a habit of it." There were a lot of other things she'd never done before; she was considering making a list and working her way down it."Well, that's nice. I'm glad. The reason I'm calling is, did you have plans for this afternoon, going into the evening?"
Atropos' approval sounded entirely sincere, which gave Ashley a warm feeling; even the question that followed didn't give her reason to worry. Whatever was going on, Atropos surely had her reasons."Well, I was going to stay home, watch some TV and try out a few new recipes, but what did you have in mind? Another Teacher job?" The last one had been fun, even before all the shit got ripped out of her head (one of these days, she was going to have to find Scapegoat and give him a big wet kiss) and dumped into Teacher's."Not a job as such. Just a meet and greet, talking to people who've had a rough deal, and maybe sharing a few stories. Interested?"Once more, Ashley was struck by the contrast with how she thought these days and what she'd been like before the Teacher job. Then, she would've sneered and dismissed the idea. If they couldn't do anything for her, why should she put herself out for them?Now, it was a totally different story. This 'empathy' thing Atropos talked about was definitely a game-changer."Sure, I can do that," she agreed readily. "When and where, and who am I meeting?""Just come to the PRT building, around three. They'll be expecting you. I'll meet you on the roof. We'll be teleporting to Philly to meet a bunch of ex-capes, who got stuck with shitty powers. They're learning how to survive in society again."Ashley figured she could read between the lines easily enough. "You got rid of their powers for them, didn't you? Yeah, I'll totally be there." She wasn't quite sure why Atropos was going out of her way for these people, but she certainly wasn't going to argue with the very scary mass murderer over the matter.Besides, it sounded like fun."Excellent. I truly appreciate it. See you there. Toodles." The end-call chime sounded in Ashley's ear.She put the phone away and leaned once more on the fence, looking out to sea. The sun was a little higher in the sky now, sifting sunbeams through the clouds that hung out over the ocean. It was still quite beautiful, and now she had something interesting to look forward to in the afternoon.Screw being a supervillain, she decided. I'll take this, all day long.<><>Dallon HouseholdT minus 11 h 33 minBrandish"Aww, isn't he a cutie? You like that, don't you? Yes, you do." Vicky cooed over Smaug, scratching him behind the jaw as he accepted a couple of blueberries from her fingers.The bearded dragon seemed to take the attention in his stride, half-closing his eyes as he chewed the fruit. Amy, who had brought him down to the table draped over her neck in the first place, snorted softly and rolled her eyes. Carol glanced over at Mark, who didn't seem to have noticed the lizard on the table yet.Okay, fine. If no-one else is going to say something, then I will.Carol had been working at being less of a martinet within her own family since her thoroughly illuminating talk with Amy, but some things were simply unacceptable, and one of those things was a bearded dragon at the breakfast table. Pointed glances hadn't worked, so she'd have to say something. The trouble was, the time to say something had been five minutes ago, and she hadn't spoken up then.Still, better late than never. "Vicky, stop playing with Amy's pet at the table. Amy, take the lizard back upstairs."Vicky went straight to puppy-dog eyes, making her look about ten years old. "Aw, c'mon, Mom. He's not causing any problems. It's not like he's stealing your bacon. Anyway, his name's Smaug.""I don't care
what his name is." Carol was aware that she'd lost the conversational initiative, but decided to try logic and reason before unleashing the all-inclusive 'because I said so'. "It's unhygienic to have animals on the table while we're eating."Amy raised her chin a little. "Actually, I made sure he was clean all over before I brought him down. He just finished moulting, and I wanted everyone to see how bright and shiny his scales are." She shot her sister a dirty look. "Then Vicky hijacked him.""I did not." Vicky put on a superior air. "He just likes me better, is all.""I—" Carol broke off as her phone rang. She delved in her purse for it as she stood up from her chair: one of the rules of the Dallon household was that nobody carried on a telephone conversation at the table. "By the time I finish this call, Smaug had better be back upstairs where he belongs."She was trying hard not to frown as she accepted the call, especially when she saw who it was from. Facial expressions, as she well knew, affected the tone of voice. The last thing she wanted was for Atropos to decide that Carol was upset with her."Hi, Mrs Dallon. Looks like I caught you just in time." Atropos' tone was as chirpy as ever."I'm sorry … what exactly do you mean by that?" There was no doubt in Carol's mind that Atropos was pulling some kind of shenanigans: the multi-million-dollar question was 'what?'."Well, I was going to ask if the girls could come and help me out a little. See, the Parahuman Asylum in Philadelphia has a bunch of inmates who've suddenly lost their problematic powers and are thus eligible for release. They're currently re-acclimating to society, but they're not sure of themselves. So, I was thinking Amy and Vicky could come and talk to them about the problems they're facing, and maybe offer a few suggestions. If that's okay with you, I mean?"Carol raised her eyebrows. The phrase 'suddenly lost their powers' sounded suspicious as hell to her, given that the only person on Earth known to be able to kill powers was currently on the other end of the phone call. But that wasn't her main point of concern. "So … just talk to them? They're all depowered?""Totally depowered. Amy will be perfectly safe. Plus, I'll be bringing other capes along." She heard a grin creep into Atropos' voice. "If it makes things easier, you could think of it as community service for Vicky."That decided her. "You make an excellent point. She does need to learn adult responsibility sooner or later. But this is in Philadelphia, you say?" Even at Vicky's best flight speed, it would be a four-hour trip. Of course, Atropos could teleport, which would make things much easier. "How are they getting there?""Have them meet me on the roof of the PRT building, about three o'clock this afternoon. We'll be going through into the evening. Don't worry; I'll be there to keep an eye on them the whole time, and I'll bring them back afterward.""Strangely enough, I do trust you in that matter. They'll be there." She had no idea what had originally prompted Atropos to take Amy and then Vicky under her wing (so to speak) but their excursions had made for fascinating
discussions over the dinner table, and had given Carol some truly sobering insights into Atropos' capabilities."Excellent. I'll see you around. Toodles."Phone in hand, Carol turned back toward the table. The lizard had vanished from the table, and she could hear the sound of Amy's footsteps upstairs. Vicky, in the meantime, sat there with an expression suggesting that butter wouldn't even consider melting in her mouth."That was Atropos." With an inner smile, she caught Vicky's start of surprise. "She made a request of me that I intend to honour. You and your sister will be going to Philadelphia this afternoon …"<><>PRT Building, Director's OfficeT minus 11 h 17 minDirector Paul RenickPaul's first cup of coffee for the day steamed gently as he booted up his laptop. He did not anticipate a particularly hectic weekend. The cape gangs were long since gone, outside influences had gotten the message that Brockton Bay was a no-go zone for cape crime, and even the non-cape criminals were being mopped up on a daily basis by the rejuvenated BBPD, with occasional assistance from the Protectorate and Wards.Petty crime still happened—with the advent of Spring Break, there would be an influx of bored school-age children on the street, with a concomitant uptick in shoplifting and minor vandalism—but even that would be less of an issue than what had been the norm during
school hours, back before January. Between the increased vigilance of the police and the fact that even the most disaffected of youth now had extra spending money, crime had never recovered from the cliff it had fallen off in the aftermath of the first week of the year.To put it as bluntly as possible: there was a carrot, and there was a stick. Nobody wanted the stick, and the carrot was actually pretty damn attractive.Taking up his cup, Paul sipped from it, then put it down before opening the email containing the morning's skim sheet. Emily had warned him before she left to never be eating or drinking anything when he first laid eyes on it, if only because cleaning off one's screen and keyboard was a tedious endeavour. Paul had taken up the habit and continued to do so; even though nothing spit-take-worthy had shown up yet during his tenure, that didn't mean this would continue to be the case.(The Goddess incident might have qualified if he'd learned about it first thing in the morning, but thankfully nothing else had.)The first item was an overview of the progress of the Brockton Bay Betterment Committee work sites over the last twenty-four hours. It wasn't really part of his purview, and there was precious little he could do to help if they did have a problem, but he liked to read about it anyway. Things were reportedly progressing on time and on budget, which would've counted as a minor miracle anywhere else, but was apparently par for the course with the Committee.He was just looking over the next item—a report on patrols done and incidents noted—when his phone rang. Curious, he picked it up, then blinked when he saw the name in the caller ID."Hello, Atropos," he said, putting the phone on speaker and setting it down. At the same time, he nudged the audio record button under the desk with his knee. "How may I help you?""Well, to be honest, I was wondering if I could borrow a few of your Wards this afternoon," she replied cheerfully, as though it was the most natural thing in the world. Which, to be honest, for her … it was. "Kind of a PR thing, in Philadelphia.""Give me one second, please." He clicked through a few menus in his computer until he reached the Wards' roster for the day. "Who did you think you might need?""Your most relatable ones, if you can spare any of them. Vista, Miss Medic, Tenebrae, Kid Win, Chariot, Browbeat. The ones who haven't had it easy."She could certainly pick them, he was forced to admit. "Let me see … Vista's due for a console shift and Kid Win was going on patrol. He prefers console, so I can rotate her out of the roster and let Browbeat go out with Gallant, to get his hours up. Tenebrae and Miss Medic were off-shift already, so I'll contact them and ask if they want to come along. Chariot's still in training, so I can't really authorise him to go, I'm afraid.""No, that's fine." Her tone was as upbeat as ever. "I appreciate the assist. Vista and I get along pretty well, and Miss Medic and Tenebrae and I go back a ways. They'll do great."
Apparently as an afterthought, she added, "Just so you know, I've got a few others coming along too."He'd known about Tenebrae and Miss Medic, but the information about Vista was new to him. "Well, that's good to hear. When do you need them by, and when can I expect them back?""Oh, I've arranged to meet the other capes on the roof of the PRT building at three this afternoon. If you can let your troopers know about this, and have the Wards up there at that time, it'll make things a lot easier. They'll be coming back sometime this evening, once everything winds down. Don't worry, I'll make sure everyone gets home safely.""I do appreciate it. So, what exactly is happening? You mentioned something about public relations …?" He hadn't heard of anything of note due to happen in Philadelphia, but that didn't really mean anything. Once Atropos decided something was going to happen, it happened."It's nothing official. I'm just doing Jessica Yamada a solid. The parahuman asylum just recently had a bunch of people transition to outpatient status, and I thought it would do them good to speak to some capes who also haven't had it the easiest. People who can relate to them and make suggestions for coping mechanisms. It'll also be educational for the Wards in general."Paul had met Mrs Yamada in her professional capacity, and considered her to be rather effective in her field. Somehow, it didn't surprise him that Atropos both knew of her and respected her. "I'm sure it will. Also, thank you for giving me the heads-up on this. We both know that if you'd just asked, they would've come along whether I wanted them to or not." An image formed in his head of Atropos, somehow playing on a flute like the Pied Piper, leading the Wards out of the building to some adventure or other.Her tone changed slightly, suggesting that she'd just smiled. "Yeah, but they'd at least let you know where they were gonna be. Also, Vista would do her best to make sure someone could cover her shift. She's responsible like that.""She is indeed." Paul considered what he'd already been told, and decided there was only one good reason for them to all meet on the rooftop. "I presume you're going to be teleporting them there and back?"She didn't sound at all surprised that he'd guessed. "That's the plan, yes. Now, I've got other things to take care of, and I assume you've got work to do, so I'll see you later. Toodles.""Goodbye," he said, before he realised the call had already ended. Leaning back in his chair, he thought about the situation for a moment, then called another number."Operations. What do you need, sir?"Paul mentally girded his loins. This was going to be an interesting one to explain. "I just got a phone call from Atropos. We may be getting some visitors this afternoon …"<><>Outside the PRT BuildingT minus 4 h 58 minAshIt was just coming up to three when Ashley got off the bus and approached the frontage of the PRT building. She was wearing her best 'casual mingling' outfit, her hair had been freshly shampooed and brushed until it shone, and she'd even given herself a touch of lipstick and eyeshadow, as guided by several Youtube clips. Outwardly, she looked pretty damn good. But as she stared up at the imposing building, she began to wonder if this was really a smart idea.I don't want to let Atropos down, but what if they decide to just arrest me when I walk in there? I mean, technically I'm still a wanted criminal.The fact that in her old life, she would've stomped right in there and laid waste to the building just to prove a point was not lost on her. Things were different now. She had a life here, a good position with the Committee; the last thing she wanted to do was jeopardise that."Hey." The voice came from just behind her. She looked around, to see a teenage girl wearing a stylish beret and a pastel pink cloth mask. "You'd be Ashley, right? Atropos told me all about you."Ashley blinked. "You know her?" Of all the people she would've expected to have close contact with Atropos, this girl did not fit the description. Aside from the mask and the beret, she wore a floral blouse, a denim skirt and knee-high brown leather boots: about as far from a costume as could be expected. "Who are you?""Oh, sorry." The girl held out her hand. "You can call me Cherish. I'm a reformed supervillain, too. One of Heartbreaker's, until I ran away. He followed me here, Atropos brutally murdered him, and I've been learning how to be a normal human being ever since." She gave Ashley a beaming smile.As she shook Cherish's hand, Ashley snorted in amusement. "Yeah, that definitely sounds like her. Nice to meet you. You're going to Philly too?""That's the idea. Now, let's see how good Director Renick's word is." Cherish turned and headed for the front doors of the building. Finding her self-confidence boosted by Cherish's proximity, Ashley followed along.The doors rumbled aside for them, and climate-controlled air folded around them as they stepped into the lobby. While Ashley eyed the troopers along the wall (who were almost certainly eyeing her right back, from behind their opaque faceplates), Cherish ignored them and marched straight over to the reception desk."Hi," she announced. "Two to go to the roof. We're meeting Atropos there.""Ah, yes. Of course." The receptionist sounded dubious, but it was clear she had a script to work from. "You're just in time. Elevator four will take you up there.""Thank you." Cherish gave her the same kind of smile that she'd given Ashley, a little earlier. "C'mon, Ash. We don't want to keep Our Lady in Darkness waiting."Ashley blinked at that, but she followed Cherish to the appropriate elevator, which opened as they approached it. Once they stepped inside, the button marked 'ROOF' was already illuminated; the doors interleaved shut, and the floor numbers started scrolling upward. Ashley was impressed by the fact that she felt no sensation of extra weight, but that was probably a Tinkertech thing."Are you in her cult?" she asked quietly, not wanting to pry but still interested in knowing. "I mean, there's nothing wrong with that, but—" But you seem a lot more normal than the rest of them.
Ash had seen some of the Followers around; they were a little bit creepy, but at least they didn't preach on street corners. Also, they wore little pendants shaped like shears, and Cherish didn't have anything like that on her.Grinning, Cherish shook her head. "Hah, no. That was just so they'd hurry us along. I respect the hell out of the Followers, but that's not for me. I'm just a member of the fan club." The elevator doors opened as smoothly as they'd closed, showing the rooftop beyond a set of glass doors. "Oh, hey. We're here."They exited the elevator, then stepped out between the glass doors as they opened. There were two PRT guards here, who only paid cursory attention to them. This was probably because Atropos was already there, chatting casually with Vicky Dallon. Also present were Panacea (wearing T-shirt and jeans), as well as three of the Wards: Vista, Tenebrae and Miss Medic."Oh, hi!" Miss Medic came straight over to them, with Tenebrae trailing behind. "It's good to see you again … Ashley? Or would you prefer Damsel?" Her beaming smile rivalled Cherish's for intensity."Ashley, please. Or Ash. Damsel is long gone in my rear-view." Ashley impulsively hugged the ten-year-old. "I just want to thank you and Panacea for what you did for me.""You're totally welcome." Miss Medic returned the hug, then stood back and took stock of her. "Wow, you're really looking a lot better than you were before. You're sleeping and eating better?"Ashley nodded firmly, a grin breaking out over her own lips. "Oh, you have no idea. I'm cooking now. And working with the Committee. Friday afternoon, I helped pull down Winslow.""I can totally back her up on the cooking thing," Vicky remarked, strolling over and putting an arm over Ashley's shoulders. "You should try her pork cutlets. They're amazeballs."Atropos cleared her throat, and everyone looked over to her as she pointed to a spot on the roof. "Okay, then," she announced. "Now that everyone's here, I'm about to open a portal to Philadelphia right there. Vista, you're the only one here who hasn't been through one; just step on through, like it's a doorway. We will have eight seconds for everyone to get through, so no dawdling, okay?"Cherish tilted her head. "Wait a minute. I thought your portals had a four-second limit." She looked around at the others. "Right?""Ah, no," Panacea said. "First time I used one of her portals, it was open for something like forty seconds. So it's variable, yeah?"Atropos nodded. "It involves safety specs that I normally prefer not to exceed. Anyway, the order of movement: Tenebrae, Miss Medic and Vista, Amy and Vicky, Ashley and Cherish, then me." She pointed to the spot she'd already indicated. "Three. Two. One. Go." At the word 'go', she snapped her fingers, and the portal appeared.Tenebrae was already moving, with Miss Medic right behind him, tugging Vista along. Each in turn vanished as they stepped into the shadowy doorway, followed up by Panacea and Vicky. Then it was Ashley's turn, moving forward with Cherish at her side. She'd done this before, so it was no great leap of faith to step into the portal.Whatever awaited on the other side, she was looking forward to it.
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[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]
Roof of the PRT ENE Building, Brockton BayT minus 4 hr 50 minMiss Medic"Three. Two. One. Go." Atropos snapped her fingers, and the portal appeared.With Missy's hand in hers, Riley followed Brian through, stepping into the middle of a large open living-room type space. There was a whole bunch of people waiting for them, aged from late teen to early adult, but Riley was more concerned right then with clearing the area so the others could come through. If Atropos said they had eight seconds to use the portal, then eight seconds it was.With her usual flair of moving fast while not appearing to hurry at all, Atropos stepped into view at least a second before the portal vanished. Her long-coat flared open dramatically, and Riley saw the sheathed shears under it. Turning her head to scan the crowd awaiting them, she nodded to one in particular, a tall blonde. "Hi, Sveta. Mrs Yamada gave you the heads-up?""She did, yes." Sveta moved forward and held out her hand. "It's good to see you again, and Panacea as well." Her face broke out in a broad smile that definitely encompassed the New Wave healer. "I owe you both so much."Panacea came toward them, looking Sveta up and down in a thoughtful manner; after Atropos, she also shook hands with the blonde woman. "Well, you seem to have taken your opportunity and run with it. Any problems?"As Sveta answered in the negative, Missy leaned in toward Riley and whispered, "I'm not sure I know what's going on here. Do you?"Before Riley could answer in the negative, Atropos cleared her throat. "Just so everyone's on the same page here: welcome to the Philadelphia Parahuman Asylum Temporary Outpatient Rehabilitation facility. Try saying that ten times fast."Riley couldn't resist. She knew exactly what Aisha would say, so she said it instead. "That ten times fast."As everyone else laughed, Atropos shook her head, but Riley could tell she was grinning. She waited for the laughter to die down before she continued. "Nice one, but seriously. These are all people who had extremely problematic powers, which have since been Ended. However, they're all still working on learning how to function in normal society. I thought you guys might be able to share your experiences and provide a few tips. So feel free to mingle and chat, answer questions and offer advice. Vicky, Ashley, Vista: could I have a quick word first, please?""Sure." Glory Girl—it was hard to think of her otherwise, even out of costume—moved off to the side where Atropos was gesturing, followed by Ashley. Missy hesitated for a moment, then went in that direction after Riley gave her a reassuring nod."Damn," muttered Brian. "That surgery you did on Ashley really worked. She's looking a thousand percent on what she was." The nod he bestowed on Riley was full of brotherly pride. "Good going.""Thanks." It was true: when they'd performed the surgery on Damsel of Distress in that horrible house, she'd been worn down to an essence of resignation and spite, her power allowing no other emotions to linger within her for long. But between the help they'd given her and whatever Atropos had done in the meantime to tame the savage beast, she was now positively glowing with good health and happiness.As Bonesaw, Riley had hurt a lot of people: more than she could ever realistically atone for, she knew. But that didn't mean she shouldn't try; as Miss Medic, she'd already done a lot of good, and intended to do more. Ashley was definitely a tick in the plus column there, as were the twenty people (she'd been instinctively counting them) in the rehabilitation facility, if she'd correctly interpreted Atropos' hint about Ending their powers.Glancing up at Brian, she tilted her head. "C'mon, let's go chat to these nice people." While it would absolutely be a terrible idea to give them chapter and verse about having once been Bonesaw (or rather, having woken up and remembered being Bonesaw), she could certainly gloss over the worst of the details and give them useful advice disguised as anecdotes. Brian, she knew, could do the same from his perspective of once having been Grue.It wasn't surgery, but it was still helping people achieve a better life, and that was what she was all about these days.
<><>
T minus 4 hr 48 minVistaWhen Director Renick first posited the expedition with Atropos, Missy had been excited to go, especially as Riley and Brian were also going. Brian had the whole 'big brother' thing locked down; he vibed with Aegis really well on that score, and Missy appreciated that he didn't talk down to her, even though he was nearly two feet taller than her. And Riley was a total sweetie who understood the basic stuff about capes, even though she was a newbie at it, and picked up anything else Missy had to show her really fast.Plus, though she'd never admit it to anyone, it was nice to not be the only 'cute Ward' on the team anymore. The general public were taking her more seriously these days, which she truly appreciated.The briefing they'd been given by Director Renick had been on the sparse side. He'd told them that they'd be going to Philadelphia with Atropos and some other capes to help talk to some people, but she hadn't quite figured it all out until now. Of course, now that she
did
know what was going on, she was eager to help, but first she had to find out what Atropos wanted.Her relationship with the dark-clad serial killer was also on the complicated side. Driven to distraction by her parents' constant fighting, she'd gotten Atropos' attention by imagining ways to kill her; in response, Atropos had shown up, given her a warning, then yelled at her parents to sort their shit out and stolen their booze before leaving.As a direct result, Missy's home life was a lot better now (in her opinion, Atropos had a great career ahead of her as a marriage therapist, if she ever wanted to take it up) but she hadn't been sure how things would go if they came face to face again. Everything had been cool on the roof of the PRT building, but now Atropos wanted to speak with her personally. On the upside, she also wanted to speak to Glory Girl and the woman called Ashley, so maybe it would be okay after all?The room was large enough that they were able to find a quiet corner where their privacy was granted by mutual unspoken agreement. Missy augmented this by adding a bit more space, so they were a good thirty feet away from everyone else. Ashley seemed a little taken aback by this, but Glory Girl and Atropos were entirely unsurprised by it."Thanks, Vista." Atropos' tone was brisk and businesslike. "I won't keep you long, but I needed to get you all in one place where I could fill you in on something important. Ashley, you might remember when we did the Teacher job, I mentioned that there was one more problem I had to deal with: eldritch horrors from beyond time and space."Ashley nodded, her expression one of dawning comprehension. "Yeah, you said they spawned the Endbringers, right? Did you bring us here to fight them?""There's two, but one's currently locked down. The other one's searching for me right now, or at least I think it's him." Atropos turned her head to look at them each in turn. "The moment I can confirm who it is, I'm going to have to End him. For that I'll need you three, plus a couple more who aren't here right now. Can I count on you for that? More to the point, do you trust me to do what needs to be done?""Totally," Glory Girl replied immediately, beating Ashley's agreement by only a split second.Missy hesitated, but only because of the sheer magnitude of what Atropos was asking of her. "Um." She paused again, searching for the right words. "Sure, but what are we talking about here? Endbringer level? Worse than that?"Atropos paused for a long moment, letting the tension build, before she spoke one word."Scion."It shocked the three of them to silence, especially Missy. She'd grown up on stories of the heroic capes of the world, especially the golden man, and to have Atropos so bluntly cast him in the role of a villain jarred her to her core. Staring from one to another of the other three, she searched in vain for some sign that this was all a prank of the highest level.Ashley was the first to speak. "Y'know, it kinda makes sense, once I think about it.""How's that?" Glory Girl didn't sound like she was totally embracing the concept, but neither was she decrying it."Well, think about it. Who's done the most good in the world, over the last three months?" Ashley nodded toward Atropos. "Her, yeah? And if she's the good guy, then why can't someone like Scion be the bad guy?"Glory Girl's lips twitched into a reluctant smile. "I'm not fully convinced that logic flies, but I'm willing to hear you out. How can you be sure that he is what you say he is?"Atropos spoke lightly, but with deadly purpose behind her words. "Same way I knew to bring along a quarter to our first meeting."That meant nothing at all to Missy, but Glory Girl's expression locked up like the brakes of a speeding car on black ice. Ashley chuckled and patted Glory Girl on the shoulder. "Looks like she's got you there, hon.""Okay, yeah, good point." Glory Girl's tone was that of someone who had started an argument and lost it in the same breath, which only puzzled Missy even more. "So why don't we all just go and take him out now, if he's such a bad guy?"Atropos nodded slowly, her tone sober. "If I could be certain it was him, we'd already be on the way. But if it wasn't him, that would give him information he doesn't have right now. See, in order to get a line on him, I'd have to step out of the shadows, so to speak. Give him a good hard look at me. The trouble is, that would absolutely get his attention, and he'd come after us while we're going after whoever else is looking for me. I can fight on two fronts—done it before, more than once—but the sheer amount of collateral damage that
would
result means I need to wait and see."Ashley's grin was a little forced, but she managed it anyway. "Well, it's easy to tell that you've never been a superhero. With some of them, collateral damage might as well be their middle name. And I'm saying that as someone who used to wreck shit even when I
wasn't
committing crimes.""Oh, har har." Glory Girl rolled her eyes and nudged Ashley with her elbow. "That's the last time I open up to you about the stupid shit I've done."Missy decided not to mention that she wouldn't even need to talk about it. There was at least one Youtube video channel about Glory Girl's misadventures out there, and possibly more that she didn't know about. Most of the Wards had been through it at one point or another: Missy only wanted to make sure that she didn't emulate any of the more spectacular pratfalls."I wasn't actually talking about you, but hey, I'm good to swap stories of stuff I've destroyed all day long." Ashley put her arm over Glory Girl's shoulders. "Just bring some more of that cider over. I've been making pastries that Mr Hebert gave me some recipes for, and they're actually pretty good."Atropos cleared her throat, drawing their attention back to her. "So
anyway, just as soon as I get a clear line on this guy, we're gonna have to hit the ground running. Are you all good for that?"Missy grimaced. "I … but it's
Scion.
How can you possibly know he's a bad guy?" She didn't want to go against Atropos, but she'd also been taught to stand her ground and not let anyone push her around. And if Scion wasn't here to defend himself, she was gonna do it for him."That's a good question." Atropos' tone could have been mocking, but it wasn't. "The answer is fairly complicated, but to simplify it all the way down, Scion and his partner are responsible for all super-powers on Earth. The idea is to stress-test and modify them by having us fight each other. Then, after a few centuries, they harvest the powers, blow up all the Earths, and move along.
My
power was inserted by a third party, and it's here to screw over Scion and his partner, and End this particular iteration of their life cycle."Again, silence fell over the small group, while Missy wrestled with the concepts that Atropos had just laid on her. She wanted to argue and deny what she'd just heard, but everything Atropos had ever said and done (especially what she'd done) backed it up. Plus, something about Atropos' deadpan delivery was chillingly convincing, where shouting and ranting wouldn't have had nearly the same effect."Well, shit." Ashley nodded slowly, her expression contemplative. "That's about the best explanation for the state the world's in as I've ever heard. Vicks?""Goddamn it." Glory Girl glared at Atropos. "I came along because I thought this would be
fun.
Also because Mom told me to, but mainly because hanging out with people and giving them the benefit of my experience was going to be fun. And now you just rip the rug out from under my whole world like that? What the fuck?""Well, it all depends." Atropos didn't seem to be even slightly fazed by the teen hero's unhappiness. "Would you rather live in blissful ignorance, then one day your world just blows up, or would you prefer to know what's coming and maybe stop it?"Ashley's chuckle was a little hollow. "Is this where we vote? Because when my time comes, Imma meet it on my own two feet, standing tall and giving it the finger."Glory Girl scowled, mainly at the floor. "Yeah, fine, I'm in, but I don't have to like it."Missy drew a deep breath. "Me, too. Either you're totally deluded or you're the best liar in the world, or it's true. And you've never lied or been wrong that
I
know of, so … yeah, I'm in. When you need me, I'll be there."Ashley drew her in for a side-hug. Missy didn't fight it; she kind of needed a hug, right then, and Ashley probably needed one too. "You got stones, kid. That's good. We're gonna need that. But you know the worst part of all this?"Glory Girl glanced over at them. "I'll bite. What?"Ashley's chuckle was pure dark mischief. "Who the hell can we even tell about it?"Glory Girl stared at her for a moment, then facepalmed. "Motherfucker."
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PRIVATE MESSAGETo:
DragonFrom:
AtroposSubject:
Moving a SuitHi to my best frenemy!So, I was wondering if you could do me a huge solid and move a suit to Brockton Bay. Somewhere near the PRT building would be great.
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PRIVATE MESSAGETo: AtroposFrom:
DragonSubject:
Re: Moving a SuitIf I ask why, will I get an answer I actually want to hear?
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PRIVATE MESSAGETo:
DragonFrom:
AtroposSubject:
Re: Re: Moving a SuitWell, that depends. You didn't really want to hear about why I borrowed Teacher that one time, so I guess it's up to you.
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PRIVATE MESSAGETo:
AtroposFrom:
DragonSubject:
Re: Re: Re: Moving a SuitI know I'm going to regret asking, but is this connected with that? If so, how?
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PRIVATE MESSAGETo:
DragonFrom:
AtroposSubject:
Re: Re: Re: Re: Moving a SuitIn a word: yes. As for how … let's just say, I see a need in my (very) near future for the option to take a quiet restful joyride around the friendly skies of Brockton Bay.For very specific interpretations of the words 'quiet', 'restful', 'joyride' and 'friendly', of course.Mwahahaha.
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PRIVATE MESSAGETo:
AtroposFrom:
DragonSubject:
Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Moving a SuitI knew I'd regret asking.Suit dispatched.
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PRIVATE MESSAGETo:
DragonFrom:
AtroposSubject:
Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Moving a SuitYou're the best.
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Director's Office, PRT ENET minus 4 hr 40 minDirector Paul RenickEmily would have hated this, Paul mused as he perused yet another form to be filled out. There was no gang violence; in fact, no violent crime at all to be had. Gallant and Browbeat were patrolling the Boardwalk, and all they'd done was stop for photo ops with tourists. Just looking out the window left him with the impression that the city was finally at peace with itself.
She would've been bored out of her skull.He played with the idea of collating the week's stats and sending it to her in a printable file with the caption 'You got out just in time', but he didn't want to chance sounding mean-spirited. He'd just let her know that everything was staying quiet in her absence during the weekly video conference. All he'd have to say was that he'd caught up on his paperwork, and she'd know just how peaceful it was now.Just as he clicked the mouse to send the completed form away, his phone rang. Wondering if Atropos had a new request, he checked the caller ID, and frowned.
Okay, what's Dragon calling me about?Swiping to accept the call, he put it on speaker and hit the audio record button as normal. "Good afternoon, Dragon," he said politely. "How may I help you today?""Good afternoon, Director Renick. I'm just calling up to let you know that I'm moving a suit to Brockton Bay for the time being. Would it be possible to leave it on the roof of the PRT building?"Her tone was strong and confident, and he nearly agreed to her request purely due to reflex before his higher brain functions kicked on. "Y—hold on, wait a moment. I'm not saying no, but on whose orders are you moving the suit here?"To his surprise, she hesitated for almost a full second before answering.
"No orders, Director. I'm moving it because I was asked by Atropos to move it. She wants me to have a suit in Brockton Bay. I asked why, and while she didn't answer me directly, I got the strong impression that your city will be hosting aerial combat sometime very soon."Paul's eyes widened at that, and a chill crept up his spine.
Jesus Christ.
"When she took down the Nine, she told you what she was doing, correct?""She did."
Dragon said no more than that. The implications, even unspoken as they were, scared the living bejeesus out of him.Something big's about to happen, and she's not saying a word to us."Did she say anything else, anything at all, about what she's preparing for? Also, did you know that she's in Philadelphia at the moment?" Paul was reaching for any straw that would help him make sense of this situation.
Emily, this is your turf, not mine.When Dragon spoke next, she chose her words very carefully.
"I did not. She alluded to something she did last week, and at that time she indicated she was preparing to deal with a problem that she called, and I quote, 'the monster at the end of the world'. No, I don't know what that means either."The chill was firmly entrenched right up and down Paul's spine, to the point that he was almost surprised that his seat back hadn't frozen solid. "What … did she do last week?"Again, there was that anomalous hesitation.
"She borrowed Scapegoat from the San Diego department, took him and Damsel of Distress to London, then pulled Teacher out of the Birdcage. Teacher apparently upgraded Damsel's and Scapegoat's powers at Atropos' insistence, then he ended up back in the Birdcage. Teacher is now deceased, and Glaistig Uaine has taken his powers."" … what?" Paul shook his head, trying to make some sense out of the world. "Why didn't you tell us about this? About
any
of this?"This time, the response was much more prompt.
"Atropos asked me not to. As I knew it would get out eventually, I chose to accede to her request in the moment. Scapegoat's powers are reportedly much more effective now, and I suspect Damsel's are as well. I spoke to Atropos regarding Teacher's deteriorated mental condition upon his return to the Birdcage; her reply made it obvious that she knew how this would turn out, and didn't care. Neither, I suspect, would she care one iota if she heard of his demise. That's if she doesn't already know.""But
why?" demanded Paul. "Why do
any
of this? What's she
doing?""At the risk of sounding facetious, sir, she's preparing to deal with the monster at the end of the world, whatever that is. And she'll be doing it soon."He sighed, fully aware that his very best efforts to keep the city safe would probably come up short. If Atropos wasn't telling them anything, there was a reason. The subtext was clear.
Stay out of my way.
"Understood. Keep me posted. If anything—anything at all—comes up, contact me soonest."Dragon's tone was businesslike.
"Will do, sir. About the suit?"Even aware that she couldn't see him, he nodded. "Park it on the northeast corner of the roof. That should keep it clear of the helipad.""Understood, sir. Thank you."
The call ended.Paul looked out the window. What had previously appeared to be the epitome of peace and quiet now had an invisible menace looming over it, one that Atropos was preparing to take on, possibly with Dragon's assistance. He had no idea what was going on, or when it was due to happen. All he could do was pray that Atropos continued to be as effective at protecting the city as she had been so far.When this is over, Atropos, you and I are going to have a talk about communication.He snorted humourlessly, reality reasserting itself.If that's okay with you, of course.
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T minus 3 hr 12 minCherishWhatever it was that had pissed Glory Girl off (Cherie could hazard a guess, but it was easier to wait until Taylor told her), she seemed to have gotten over it in relatively short order. Her emotional accompaniment had gone from harsh dissonant notes to relatively fluid music, and she'd started chatting with some of the people from the rehabilitation facility. Panacea was also in her element, happy to be talking about her struggles with self-doubt and worry about her own motivations.To Cherie's considerable amusement, the ones with the most avid audiences were the ex-villains, including herself. To make matters even funnier, Riley was among that number, though none of the ex-capes were aware of this. Her stories of having been targeted by a malevolent Master so that he could use her powers for his benefit (Cherie suspected they were watered-down versions of her times with Jack Slash) had everyone on the edges of their seats.Ashley was also quite popular, and she didn't even have to embellish her tales. Her theme in general was 'it's okay to ask for help, look what happened to me when I didn't', and she got it across very thoroughly, amid much amusement at the stories of her mishaps. Best of all, she was able to laugh at herself, instead of getting embarrassed or defensive.It was while Cherie was describing her escape from her father that a new musical note intruded on the gathering; a minute or so later, there was a knock at the front door. "I got it!" Roderick called out, and came through from the kitchen into the front entryway.A moment later, his music picked up in happiness; when he reappeared, a woman of Asian appearance was with him. Sveta got up immediately from where she'd been chatting with Atropos. "Mrs Yamada, hi!"Huh, so this is who they've been talking about.
Cherie had heard the name several times, but she hadn't had a face to go by until now."Hello, Sveta. And Atropos, I see you made it, with your friends." Mrs Yamada's demeanour tended toward the cool and reserved, but Cherie could tell she was pleased to see everyone enjoying themselves."Good to see you too, Mrs Yamada." Atropos gestured around at the gathering. "They've done well in just two weeks.""Yes, I'm very proud of them. Thank you for doing this, by the way. All of you." Mrs Yamada beamed at each of the visiting capes. "It's very much appreciated.""It's the least we could do." Ashley stood up and came over to meet her. "You took the time to put me in the picture about how therapy works. It helped, a lot."Sveta nodded, clearly in agreement with the sentiment about therapy. "While you're here, would you like a cup of tea?""Thank you, dear. That would be lovely. Ashley, yes? Would you like one too?" Together, the three of them headed into the kitchen, talking comfortably together. Cherie turned her attention back to her audience."So, I'd just hopped the bus headed south …"
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PRT Department 1: New YorkT minus 1 hr 3 minFlechetteThe final organ strains died away and the lights came up. Lily stepped forward from where she'd been standing in honour guard position for the funeral service; as they'd rehearsed, she leaned down and took hold of the front right-hand handle of the coffin. She didn't have the upper body strength to carry her share of it, but the capes to her six o'clock and nine o'clock had enough muscle mass to make up for it. All she had to do was go through the motions.The photo of Boomer was still sitting propped up on the coffin as they lifted it; she timed her move to fit in with everyone else's, and took as much of the weight as she could. Slowly, moving in lock-step as the organ started playing the funeral march, they walked it down off the dais and along the aisle between the rows of seating. Nobody was seated for this: all the capes were bare-headed (wearing domino masks where needed), and all the PRT troopers were standing at rigid attention, holding a salute as the coffin was carried past them.Only Lily's sense of timing allowed her to keep moving in perfect unison with everyone else, because her eyes were full of tears after she incautiously glanced over to the side and saw Boomer's daughter crying into her mother's shoulder. She managed to blink them clear as they took the corner once they'd gotten out the door, but now she had the sniffles. Grimly, she decided that she'd just have to live with it.The cold-storage room was just down the way, and Boomer's remains would be kept there until they could be discreetly moved out of the building and interred under his real name. Whatever service was held elsewhere would also have to be closed-casket, but that would be out of the hands of the PRT. Lily wasn't thinking that far ahead; she was just determined to make sure that he be moved with the dignity and respect that he deserved.Once the coffin was situated and Lily emerged from the cold room, she allowed herself to relax and blow her nose. When she looked up, Director Piggot was standing in front of her. The older woman's face had a few more lines on it than before, but nobody was counting. Directorship of a PRT department was said to be even more strenuous than air traffic control."Ma'am?" asked Lily. "Is there another situation?""Not that we know of." The Director made a gesture that meant
give us the room; all of a sudden, the corridor was clear for yards in both directions. "However, when it comes to Atropos, that doesn't necessarily mean there
is
no situation. Do you remember the last time she communicated with you?"Lily frowned. "Day before yesterday. She dropped by to talk to me about Boomer, and to tell me where we could find Rune. What's happened? Please tell me she hasn't been kidnapped again."
How many more of these idiots is she going to have to kill before they get the message?Piggot shook her head, with an expression that mirrored Lily's thoughts. "Thankfully, no. She's in Philadelphia right now. However, she's asked Dragon to transfer a suit to Brockton Bay. We believe she's in preparation to deal with a problem that she calls 'the monster at the end of the world'. Do you have any idea what that might be?""Uh, no." Lily paused, searching her mind. "I don't recall her ever using that phrase in my hearing, anyway. Sorry.""I'm going to assume that if she wanted us to know, she would've told you." The Director gestured off down the corridor. "I've held the transport for you. If you do happen to see her while you're in Brockton Bay, and if it hasn't already become blatantly obvious, I'd appreciate it if you could ask her about it. We Directors like to hold on to our illusions that we're running the show around here.""I can do that." Lily gave the Director a half-smile. "I can't promise you any results, but we both knew that.""We can but try." Piggot made a shooing motion. "You're off-duty as of right now. Go.""Yes,
ma'am." Lily headed off down the corridor at a fast trot. Her duffel, stashed in a side-room, was already packed with the clothing she'd need over the next couple of days, and it would take a bit over an hour to reach Brockton Bay.It wasn't until she was already in the chopper, lifting off the pad, that she realised she hadn't asked Director Piggot about transferring to Brockton Bay.God damn it. Okay, next time.
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Parliament House, Canberra, AustraliaT minus 1 min 30 secPocket RocketThe statue was absolutely bloody spot-on. Atropos had been rendered in bronze, the sawn-off shottie (with the phrase 'The Power of Friendship' faithfully engraved on each side) angling down toward the marble effigy of the Bin Chicken of Doom. Every time Josh saw it, he got shivers down his back from how real it looked. Of course, there were always tourists who wanted to get some happy-snaps of him posing next to it, and hear him tell it how it happened. Because he'd Been There."So there I was, she's screaming her head off like a curlew with a stick up its arse, and the next minute, Atropos, right there, yells
Duck season.
Wabbit season,
says the kid. And they go back and forward like Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck, then Atropos yells,
Wabbit season,
and the kid goes,
Duck season, fire!" He paused for effect. The tourists, a bunch of Yanks, were hanging on his every word."And then what happened?" asked one of the tourists, as if everyone in the world with an Internet connection hadn't already seen it a million times."Well, she pointed her shottie up into the clouds and pulled the trigger, didn't she? Brought the Bin Chicken down right there. Bounced, took out those flagpoles, and landed right in the middle of the outline she'd already drawn." He pointed at the marble statue. "Arsiest shot I ever saw … hoooooly shiiiiit."He blinked, then stared as Scion—the golden man himself—appeared overhead, then drifted down next to the statue. The sound of camera shutters clicking went into overdrive, to the point that it sounded like someone was trying to start a lawnmower back there. He wanted to get out his own phone to get a picture, but then he decided he'd just get a copy off one of the tourists."Hey, big guy." He'd heard Scion didn't talk to people, but there was always a first time. Scion turned to look at him, then back at the statue. The question was obvious. "Yeah, that's the Simurgh. Atropos killed her, about three weeks ago. They reckon she got the other two Endbringers as well. Nobody's seen 'em since, anyway."The silent stare was almost creepy in its intensity. He could tell that Scion wanted to ask another question, and he could make a pretty good guess as to what it was."Yeah, it was Atropos," he went on, hoping he was on the right track. "They reckon she's totally turning around her corner of America. She's killed so many supervillains, the rest are running scared. You know, on her PHO signature, she's literally got 'can actually kill anything' on it? And you know what? After the Bin Chicken here, I reckon she might not be far wrong."The
crack
as air rushed into the spot where Scion had been hovering, like a static sonic boom, would've knocked him on his arse and blown out his eardrums, but fortunately his super-speed kicked in and let him drag the tourists far enough away that they wouldn't be permanently deafened. Once he came to a halt, he stared back at where Scion had been."What the hell was
that
about?" asked one of the tourists dazedly."Buggered if I know, mate." But Josh had a bad feeling about this. Pulling out his phone, he tapped out a message.
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PRIVATE MESSAGETo:
AtroposFrom:
Pocket RocketSubject:
Just so you knowHey, I was at the Simurgh statue in Canberra, and Scion dropped in and had a squiz at it. I explained what it was about, and who you were, and then he teleported away like he had someplace to be. You might want to keep an eye on your six, okay?
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By the time he hit Send, it was already too late.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]
PATORJust Before It All Went SidewaysAtroposI sat opposite Mrs Yamada in a comfortable armchair. She had a cup of tea, while I was going without for the moment. While I could've probably gotten away with pulling my mask up to eat or drink something, I didn't want to put too many dents in my mystique if I could help it."So, there's something I've been wanting to ask you, if you don't mind." Her teacup was almost empty; she finished it and put it aside."Go ahead and ask." I spread my hands to demonstrate my openness, ignoring the fact that I was literally wearing a full-face mask. "If I refuse to answer, I'll at least tell you why.""I suppose that's fair." Clasping her hands together, she leaned forward slightly. "Your power is focused on killing people, while your aim all along has been to make Brockton Bay a safer, more prosperous city. What happens when you achieve your aims, and there's nobody else you need to kill to make it work? Are you concerned that it might turn on you? I've seen problematic scenarios before, with other people who are trying not to use their powers.""My power's not just about Ending
people." Not wanting to sound argumentative or self-serving, I moderated my tone carefully. "I can End concepts, things, and even legacies. As Brockton Bay's influence in the region spreads, there will inevitably be those who have a vested interest in maintaining their version of the status quo, even when it's something that needs to End. When that happens, I'll be there."Or, as I privately called it, the Law of Infinite Assholes."Yes, but what about—"I was no longer listening, because between one instant and the next, the niggling sense of danger I'd been feeling all day had exploded into a full-scale DefCon One. My threatscape lit up like a Christmas tree plugged into a nuclear reactor; eyes wide and staring behind my mask, I sat up hard, my heart hammering in my chest.It's Scion. He's learned my name, and he's coming after me.In that instant, I knew exactly where he was and what he intended to do. In order: in the upper atmosphere but descending rapidly; and destroy me utterly, with no holding back.It was a good thing I'd been moving my pieces into place, because right now I had exactly
zero
wiggle room.00:08"Vista, Vicky, Ash!" I yelled, launching myself up out of the armchair. Not caring who saw it, I shoved my sleeve back, popped the cover on the teleport module, and started typing in coordinates as fast as I could with my right hand. "It's go time!" At the same time, with my left hand, I delved into my pocket for my phone.00:07Vicky popped her head out of the kitchen, then she came swooping toward me, dodging around Roderick as she came. Missy was also on the ball; she grabbed Ashley by the wrist, compressed space between us, and moved them both across the room in one step.I continued typing in the coordinates, and woke up my phone at the same time. Tapping out a message for Dragon, I sent it, then started another one for Flechette.00:06"Atropos, what's going on?" Mrs Yamada began to get up out of her chair. Opting to ignore the question—I could take the time to explain or I could live, and I chose to live—I finished entering the coordinates and opened the portal. Even as I completed the text to Flechette and sent it, I dived through the portal onto the roof of the Brockton Bay PRT building.Vicky was next through, followed by Ashley and Missy. I stabbed the button to manually close the portal before anyone else wandered through, then slapped the cover shut, dropped my phone into my pocket, and turned toward the northeast corner of the building roof.Okay, that bought us about three seconds. Let's use them wisely.
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PanaceaAmy stared as the portal winked out. "What the heck?" she managed. "Where'd they go? What's going on?"Now on her feet, Jessica Yamada looked decidedly unsettled. "Does this—" she began, then cut herself off as an actinic golden glare blazed in through the window, only to flick out an instant later like a light switch had been flipped. "Ah, does this happen often?"Rubbing at her eyes, Amy tried to blink the spots away; the light had been
that
bright. "Sometimes, but she usually explains what's going on first, and I'm generally the one who gets to go on the trip. And the light was new, too. I have no idea what's going on with that.""I see." Jessica looked around at the assembled group. "Is everyone alright?""Everyone appears to be okay." That was Miss Medic, looking far more serious than Amy had ever seen her; in this incarnation, anyway. "But I think we should stay away from the windows for the moment, just in case."Tenebrae nodded. "I agree. Do you have an interior room we could shelter in for the moment? Also, it's probably a good idea to call in the PRT and Protectorate, at least until we know it's all clear out there." The protective hand on Miss Medic's shoulder showed exactly where his priorities lay."It's all clear." Cherish spoke confidently. "There's nobody within ten miles who wants to do us harm. Most people are wondering what that lightshow was all about. And in case you're wondering, I picked up a very brief reading of someone who was truly pissed off, but they're gone too."Mrs Yamada nodded as she absorbed the information. "Thank you, Cherish. That's good to know." She looked around at the four capes. "So … what should we do now?"Miss Medic shrugged expressively. "Tenebrae was right. We need to call in the PRT, to let them know what we saw. But also to get a lift back to Brockton Bay.""On it." Tenebrae had his phone out as he spoke.Amy leaned in toward Cherish, lowering her voice. "Do you have any idea of what's going on? Why she tore out of here like that?"Cherish grimaced, then glanced around before speaking just as quietly. "I'm pretty sure I do, but I don't want to talk about it where anyone else can hear us. All I can tell you at the moment is that she's been on edge all day because of it, then just now she went from irritated to 'oh, shit' in half a heartbeat. I'm pretty sure I know who's coming after her, and if she'd taken two seconds longer, none of us would be alive to talk about it."Though unable to counter her logic, Amy still wanted answers. "Okay, so let's find someplace private."Atropos, wherever you went to, bring Vicky home safe. Please.
<><>
■
PRIVATE MESSAGETo: DragonFrom:
AtroposSubject:
Re:
Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Moving a SuitNeed that suit warmed up NOW NOW NOW
■
<><>
In the Air, 30 Miles Southwest of Brockton BayFlechetteLily had her phone out to check the time when the text message popped up. The sender's name was enough to make her open the message immediately, but the body of the text made her frown and read it through twice more.Prepare to jump. 1 min 12 sec.That was all it said; no reason given, no mention of what was going on. Just a straight-up order from Atropos to her. There wasn't even the cheerful banter or teasing tone that Atropos usually employed. Which told her something very important: either something was seriously wrong, or it wasn't Atropos sending that message.A moment later, common sense kicked in. Nobody was stupid enough to impersonate Atropos, because Atropos would be waiting for them when they tried. So this meant that something had seriously gone wrong.She had a perfect sense of timing thanks to her powers, so in her mind she began a countdown, subtracting the few seconds she'd taken to work out the problem. At one minute and twelve seconds, she
would
be bailing out of the chopper, come hell or high water.Whatever was going on, she trusted Atropos with her life. It was that simple.
<><>
Atropos00:05"Dragon suit!" I was already running in that direction when Vicky scooped me up from behind, hands under my arms. Half a second later, Vista and Ashley arrived in front of the suit in one physics-mangling stride. As we approached it, I saw lights powering on as Dragon ran it through its self-checks at high speed. The side hatch began to open.00:04There was room inside for just one person (or two of us if we were okay with being very friendly), but I'd thought of that already. "Vista, make it a five-seater! Dragon, prep for takeoff!"Missy stared at me. "But there's only four—""Five!" I shouted over the rising whine of the jets, scanning the skies. He was up there, on the way down, right now. This was going to be very close indeed.00:02As we watched, the seat expanded while the cockpit didn't actually change size. I didn't bother trying to figure out how it worked; I just shoved Missy ahead of me (ignoring her protests) while I climbed in, dragging Ashley with me. Vicky got the hint and levitated in, even as the suit began lifting off and the hatch closed behind her. "Altitude!" I yelled to Dragon. "Vicky, force field!""But I can't—"
extend my force field,
she began to say.I didn't have time to hear it.
We
didn't have time to hear it. "Yes, you can!" I leaned hard into my power, to remind
her
power of the deal we'd made.00:00We'd cut it too close. Already, Scion was swooping down at us, a vast golden glow building around his hands. Dragon kicked in the afterburners, powering up past him so he had to stop short and turn to target us.Grabbing the controls—yes, Dragon could fly her own suit just fine, but nobody could second-guess Scion like I could—I threw us into a crazy spiral just as he fired. Assisted by Missy expanding space, we almost evaded the blast, but red lights sprang up here and there on the control panel as Dragon lost a wingtip. On the upside, we were still flying. Not for long, if this kept up. "FORCE! FIELD!"
<><>
The Shard BarGlory GirlWith Atropos' shout still ringing in her ears, Vicky abruptly found herself … elsewhere. She could almost have believed she was asleep and dreaming, considering how detached from reality her surroundings had become. But instead of an oversized rabbit-hole with a thematically-matching fluffy bunny carrying an oversized pocket watch, she was in what looked like a bar-room of uncertain dimensions, populated by beings that were essentially humanoid, though none of them were actually human.Her point of view was inconstant, hovering above and around the head and shoulders of a hollow glass statue of a woman in a ballroom gown. But that wasn't the worst part.As the glass statue—who demonstrated an amazing amount of agility, despite having to crack and fracture at every movement—ducked and dodged across the bar-room, she was being berated by a tall skeletal being in a robe, carrying a scythe. Accompanying them were a humanoid being composed of constantly refolding space, a clockwork robot hissing steam from a punctured cylinder, and a being of exploding and reforming energy, who was carrying a shotgun.The reason they were carrying out evasive action was the bartender, a man with a peculiarly golden tinge to his skin. An expression of rage on his face, he was firing a machine-gun at them, the bullets whipping past them and throwing up clouds of splinters from the floor. And then they were backed into a corner, despite the best efforts of the folding-space person.WHAT PART OF 'BE MORE FLEXIBLE' DID YOU NOT UNDERSTAND?
demanded the skeleton with the scythe. His voice carried the overtones of inevitability with it; when he made a pronouncement, it was closer to a prediction of what was to happen. Within the eyesockets of the skull, twin blue flares had ignited into supernovas."But … but … she doesn't believe she can do it!" protested the glass statue, her words emerging full-formed from her mouth despite the utter lack of larynx or even lungs within.CONVINCE. HER.With a rippling crackle of fracturing glass, the statue turned to look up at where Vicky's point of view was, just as the homicidal bartender slapped another belt of ammunition into the machine-gun. Vicky looked into the statue's eyes; glass lips whispered a single word. "Please …"Vicky found herself convinced.With that, the glass woman began to pirouette, faster and faster. Her skirts expanded outward as she spun, parting to allow each of her companions within. When the machine-gun fired again, the glass shattered, but the people were protected.For now.
<><>
AtroposGritting my teeth, I tried another evasive roll, but this time he was calculating which way the craft
could
go, and was spreading his beam to hit us no matter where we went. The golden glow bloomed, and we were caught in it——but we were simply swatted across the sky as Vicky's force field flickered and died on our outer hull. The jets howled, and the airframe creaked and groaned while Dragon fought to bring the suit back to an even keel. At the same time, Missy gritted her teeth, bending and twisting space to take us out of Scion's line of fire."Motherfucker!" shouted Ashley, opening the hatch and leaning out. Hanging on with one hand, she pointed the other at Scion and fired off a screeching blast of pure devastation. "Fuck off and die!" He dodged it, of course, but that also disrupted his own attack run.Well, maybe she hadn't gotten over
all
her anger issues."What the hell was that?" demanded Vicky. "Where did I just go? Yeah, yeah, I got it. 'Force field'." She grabbed a hand-hold and concentrated."I think I was there too," Dragon said hesitantly. "Wherever 'there' was.""Later." I was being a lot terser than usual, but I
was
trying very hard not to die to an overgrown spacegoing slug. "Chopper incoming. We need the person who's on it."With the assistance of Ashley's counterfire and Missy's space-twisting, I was able to evade the next two shots, but he wised up and pulled a homing blast that should have torn us in half. Again, Vicky's force field saved us, but he was learning, and my ability to bypass his combat prediction wouldn't help if he could hit us
everywhere
while we were unprotected. We were running out of time; we needed to go on the offensive, and for that we needed Lily.
<><>
Flechette"Hey, you see that?" The pilot's voice came over the headset Lily was wearing.
"Looks like a cape battle, dead ahead."The copilot's voice suggested that he was frowning.
"I thought Atropos didn't allow that sort of thing inside Brockton Bay's airspace.""She doesn't."
The pilot sounded very sure of himself.
"Whoever those two assholes are, she's gonna fuck their whole lives up when she catches up with them. In the meantime, I'm calling a divert."Hastily, Lily hit the microphone button on her headset. "No, keep going! I have to get closer!""Ah, that's a negative, miss. We're not armed, and you're not a flyer. We get too close to that, we'll just end up as collateral damage."
As the pilot spoke, the helicopter began to bank away from its original course."No, you don't understand! Atropos texted me! She wants me to get closer!" In Lily's head, the countdown was inexorably approaching zero.There was silence over the intercom for a second, then the pilot spoke.
"Shit. What do you think?"The copilot didn't sound any happier.
"She
was
in Canberra for the Simurgh."Lily decided to weigh in again. "Twenty seconds. That's all I need." The numbers were ticking down in her head."Okay, twenty seconds, then we're outta here."
The pilot sounded like he was kicking himself for agreeing to even that much, but the chopper banked back on course again."I really, really hope you know what you're doing, kid."
That was the copilot, his voice tense but controlled.So do I.
Lily put one hand on her quick-release catch, and the other on the latch for the sliding side door of the chopper.
Twelve. Eleven. Ten.At 'six', there was a
BOOM
and a massive flare of electrical discharge that had both the pilot and copilot swearing over comms; what looked like a Dragon suit came tumbling through the air, shedding long streamers of electricity. Even as far away as it was, Lily saw the side hatch beginning to open.Okay, this is it."We gotta go!"
shouted the pilot.
"Whatever you were gonna do, kid, do it now!"Lily did it; pulling the latch open, she wrenched the sliding door open against the slipstream. At the same time, she hit the release catch, freeing her from the five-point restraints. "Get out of here!" she shouted into the intercom before tearing off the headset.Before she could talk herself out of it, she grabbed the doorframe and hauled herself into the shrieking wind-rush. As the countdown in her head reached zero, she launched herself out into space.
<><>
AtroposWhatever Scion had just hit us with, it was
massive. Fortunately, we weren't over the city anymore; down below, about a square mile of trees had been simply incinerated by what looked and felt like God deciding he just didn't want them anymore, plus all their friends. Even with Vicky's force field protecting us, it rang our bell but good. We hadn't suffered any actual damage, but more red lights were popping up on the control panel as Dragon fought to restart the starboard turbine.On the upside, I'd managed to bait him into hitting us precisely hard enough to put us where we needed to be. Way off to the side, a PRT chopper was just turning away from the battle as the side door opened and someone threw themselves out. Not just any someone: that was Lily, right on time.Using the one working turbine, I adjusted our flight path so that for one fleeting second, our directional vector coincided with that of the girl who'd just thrown herself out of a helicopter a mile above ground. "Vista, Vicky, get her!" I shouted.Ashley didn't need to be told to provide covering fire. She hadn't hit with a single shot yet, which had to be frustrating, but she was doing a fantastic job of keeping him honest. Without her peppering the sky with shots capable of eliminating his humanoid body like a soap bubble in a blast furnace, he would've closed to can't-miss range by now, where he could kill us at his leisure.Missy concentrated, shrinking the gap between us and Lily to mere feet, bringing the chopper to within yards, its straining gas turbines screaming in my ears. Vicky leaned out through the already-open hatch, and snagged Lily just before she would've passed us by. "Gotcha!"Just as quickly, Missy dropped the space-crunch, then added about a mile of distance between us and Scion. Vicky hauled Lily into the cockpit, then plopped her into the seat between me and everyone else. "Hi," I said. "Glad you could drop in.""Ah. Right." Lily looked at me, then at everyone else. "Good to be here. Simurgh job?"I could tell Scion was building up to fire another massive shot, and Vicky's force field wasn't going to be quite ready. It was now or never; pulling my shears, I held them up in front of Lily. "Simurgh job. Vista, get me to knife-fighting range."Dragon got the starboard turbine up and running just as I slewed the suit side-on to Scion and popped the hatch on my side. Lily ran her finger down the blades as she'd done once before, charging them with her power. As soon as that was done, I leaped outward with the shears leading the way.Missy did her job magnificently. One instant, Scion was an incandescent dot in the distance; the next, he was literally in my face. The look on his face, mostly anger, added another element: vicious satisfaction. He'd literally been chasing me all over the sky, and now I was
right there, within his reach.His hand shot out to catch me around the throat, while the glow in the other continued to build ominously. I could
feel
the heat emanating off it, like staring into an open kiln. He was taking no chances with me dodging, this time.But that was fine. If I couldn't dodge, neither could he."Hey, asshole," I husked. "Existence is a privilege." Then, using both hands, I drove my shears in through the white bodysuit, up under the breastbone and through the heart he didn't have, all the way to the hilt.In my line of work, there was a certain satisfaction to be had in the expressions of those people who realised far too late just how badly they'd fucked up. For all the times I'd seen it, it never really got old. Just before Scion's avatar popped like a cheap balloon, his face took on the same expression as all the others.Released from his hold, I began to fall, but Vicky grabbed me by the collar of my long-coat (Missy must have done some fancy space-bending) and hauled me back inside. We hovered there for a moment, looking at the Scion-shaped hole in the air that he'd left behind. "Okay," I said after I caught my breath. "Well done, everyone, but we're not finished yet.""Is he dead?" Vicky stared at me, and at the weapon I still held in my hands. "I can't believe you just killed Scion with your shears!""Wait, why were we even fighting Scion again?" Lily both looked and sounded lost. I didn't blame her; it was a lot to be taking in all at once."I had that very same question myself."
Dragon's 'face' appeared on one of the screens.
"Was he the 'monster at the end of the world' you were talking about?"I cleared my throat, which had the effect of shutting everyone up. "He's not dead yet, but yes, he's actually the big bad guy. Get us closer. Vista, open that hole a bit. Ash, if you can trim off the edges, that would be good. We need it big enough to fit a Dragon suit through."Vicky raised a finger as though asking a question in class. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but from the way you're talking, we're going in through that hole. What's on the other side?"I grinned. "The
rest
of him."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]Some Other EarthCauldron BaseLegend"Hahaha fucking what?"Keith looked around as Kurt's disbelieving bark of laughter cut across the gentle burble of the coffee machine. Leaning back in his chair, the Number Man was staring at the screen of a tablet with an expression best described as gleeful incredulity. As Keith watched, he flicked his finger across the tablet to restart whatever footage he was watching from the beginning.Don't ask. Don't ask. Don't ask."What are you watching?"God damn it."Well, you know how Atropos has that little thing in her PHO signature about how she can basically kill anything?" Kurt wasn't even trying to hold in the smile that insisted on breaking free.Keith nodded cautiously. "Yes, well, she's demonstrated considerable aptitude in that direction. Why? Who's she killed now?" He'd been almost certain that even blind things that hid under rocks were aware by now of the need to not upset Atropos."Let me finish." The bubbling mirth seemed to be closer to the surface now. "So, about four and a half hours ago, I found out that she'd specifically asked Dragon to send a suit to the Brockton Bay PRT building. I got curious, so I put a tap on everything that suit sees and hears.""Risky," noted Keith. "She's already banned Cauldron from going there. I can slide by, as a member of the Protectorate, but you might've gotten her attention with that." The idea of Atropos striding into the base and confronting Kurt made his stomach clench, not least because he wanted a chance to clean up some of their dirty laundry before she started paying proper attention to them."Oh, there was no way I was ever going to use what I learned." Kurt sounded thoroughly earnest. "I just wanted to know what the hell she needed a Dragon suit for. Two minutes ago, I found out. You know how Scion's been teleporting all over the world?"Oh, shit. Keith froze at the mere mention of the name. Normally, he would've been less concerned, but in conjunction with Atropos, that promised to be a clash that could destroy worlds. "Yes …?""Two minutes ago, he showed up at the Simurgh statue in Australia. One and a half minutes ago, satellite imagery has him teleporting to a point over Philadelphia, and started what looked amazingly like an attack run there. Two seconds later, he broke off the run and jumped to Brockton Bay, where he started all over again. At the same time, Atropos teleported to the top of the Brockton Bay PRT building—I'm assuming from Philly—and commandeered the Dragon suit, along with three other capes. Specifically: Glory Girl, Vista and Damsel of Distress.""I'm assuming Vista manipulated the interior, or they never would have fitted inside," Keith observed, just to show that he was following along."Well, since they all got in, that's probably what happened, yeah." Kurt nodded to acknowledge the point. "Then they engaged in a running dogfight with him, somehow tanking his shots altogether but not actually landing any shots in return, for about a minute.""Tanking his shots? Are you sure?" Keith was startled by this news. "Is Dragon trialling a new force field or something?" He for sure knew of no extant Tinkertech that could stand up to Scion indefinitely. Of the capes already mentioned, Glory Girl had a force field that could reputedly stop anything once, but that was a personal effect only.Kurt shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine. At the end of the minute, they came close to a PRT transport coming in from New York, carrying Flechette. They must've been in communication with the chopper, because she jumped out just before the chopper sheered off. Vista and Glory Girl retrieved her, then they went on the offensive. Or rather, Atropos did."Dots were starting to connect in Keith's head, starting with the mention of Flechette. The last time that pair had teamed up in a combat situation, Atropos had killed the Simurgh in a thoroughly outrageous way, cementing her reputation forever (and allowing quite a bit of reflected glory to cover Flechette as well). "They didn't intercept that chopper by accident. Atropos wanted her on board.""I think you're right." The mirth bubbled up in Kurt's voice again and he turned the tablet to face Keith. "Check it out."The footage was undoubtedly from Dragon's external cameras. Keith watched as Scion went from a dot in the distance to right there in an instant; he recognised the effect as Vista's work, though her power seemed to be working faster and more smoothly than he'd ever seen it before. Filing that data point away, he kept watching the action.And action there was. Atropos leaped out of the Dragon suit, lunging with her shears at Scion. He grabbed her around the throat, preparing to obliterate her with some sort of energy blast from his other hand … but then she stabbed him with those shears, straight up under the ribcage, in a direct line with his heart. He had just enough time to show an expression of horrified shock before he … popped? Evaporated? Vanished?He sat forward. "There's got to be something I've missed. Let me see that again."Kurt rewound it the few seconds required, then started it up again. It happened exactly the same way, except this time Keith spotted Atropos saying something that he couldn't make out, due to her morph mask. A third and fourth showing did nothing but raise more questions. Mainly: how in hell did she pull that off?"Footage ends shortly after that," Kurt said, answering his unasked question. "They were apparently prepping to go into the hole he left behind. Dunno what happened after that. But holy shit, that's the most savage thing I ever saw, and I used to run with Jack Slash.""Get that footage to Alexandria and Contessa, soonest." Keith got up and took his cup to the sink. "They might be able to get more out of it than you or me. I'm going to Brockton Bay, to see if I can figure out what's happening on the ground."Kurt nodded, even as he started watching it through again. "You got it."<><>A Short Time BeforeAtroposWe hovered in front of the hole in space; while Missy strained to expand the space within the portal, and Ashley fired off blasts that literally destroyed chunks of space-time, Dragon performed last-minute repairs on her suit.Vicky took this opportunity to turn to me. "Okay, now
it's later." She looked over at me with an expression that said she wouldn't stop until she got answers. "What was
that place we went to?""I'm kind of curious about that too," Missy said over her shoulder. "Those people in that place, they were kind of abstract representations of us …?"As Vicky nodded in agreement, I turned my head so Vicky and Flechette could tell I was looking at them. "Not of you. Of your powers. Powers are granted by things called 'shards', but those are gigantic interdimensional semi-crystalline computers. The place you went to is basically a shared illusion, drawing on human concepts, to reflect what's happening on the shard level. Most people don't get to experience it. Ending kind of breaks the rules like that, in so many ways.""And that hooded skeleton, that was Ending, right? That was your power?" I could tell that Ashley knew the answer, but she felt driven to ask the question anyway.I couldn't resist. Leaning into my power, I infused my reply with the essence of Ending. "Yes."Vicky shuddered theatrically. "For fuck's sake, don't say it like that. You just gave me chills all the way down to my toes."I grinned and gave her a slight bow. "Ending says thank you, he'll be here all week." Shifting emotional gears, I turned to look at the face on the screen. "Dragon, how are you going with those repairs?""Nearly complete. Do you really intend to enter that space without waiting for reinforcements?" Her self-repair mechanisms had to be working nineteen to the dozen, but her voice showed nothing but an appropriately human concern."By the time they got here, he'd have another avatar ready to roll, and he'd be that much more prepped to go against me." I eyeballed the hole in space. "That'll have to do. We'll have about ten seconds before he realises we've breached his pocket dimension and all hell breaks loose. Ashley, I've got targets I want you to hammer before we have to go defensive. After that, you need to shoot back at anything that shoots at us. Got it?"Ashley nodded tightly, her fingers twitching. "I just realised. This is why you took me on the Teacher job, right?""I heard about that!" Lily had been sitting back and trying to follow the conversation, but now she had her opening. "Scapegoat, right?""'s right," agreed Ashley. "Teacher fixed my power but put shit in my head to make me do what he wanted. Scapegoat pulled the shit right out again and gave it back to him." She turned to me. "What happened to him once he got back to the Birdcage, anyway?"I shrugged. "Mouthed off to the wrong people, got beaten up, tried to force his powers on some others, got beaten up some more, monologued his villain plans to all and sundry, got beaten up again, then tried to stage a coup to take over the whole Birdcage, and got thoroughly ganked. Glaistig Uaine harvested his powers, and everything went back to business as normal.""You could at least act like you're remorseful over sending him to his death." Dragon could sound really reproachful when she wanted to."You'd know I was lying, and I don't lie to people I respect." I took a deep breath, and laid my hands lightly on the controls. "He was a net negative to society, and if I'd ever met him out and about, I would've shot him right in the face. Ready to go?"Vicky nodded tensely. I knew she was already extending her force field to cover the Dragon craft. "Ready."Missy flexed her fingers, and I saw space wobble slightly around us. "Ready."Ashley ran her thumbs over each fingertip in turn, like a stage magician warming up his hands for the big finale. "Let's kick this guy's ugly ass."Lily didn't have anything to do right then, so she just took a deep breath. "Good to go."The last red light on the control panel flicked back to green. "Repairs complete. Let's get this done."I hit the throttle and the suit surged forward into the hole in space. The lighting in there was weird, and it didn't necessarily match the physics of light outside the hole, but that was what made life interesting, right? We passed on through with at least three inches of clearance; I ignored the slight clenching from Vicky and Lily. There was plenty of room, the wusses.Dragon was running the suit's sensory package, and as soon as we were clear of the portal, she threw a map of the space beyond up onto the screen HUD. It was huge, a massive crystalline landscape stacked up every which way, with energy discharges jumping from crystal to crystal in a seemingly random fashion. The map started off very basic, but it gained detail by the second."Ash!" I snapped. "Target one! That big spiky outcrop there, down to the right!""On it!" As the hatch motored open, she leaned out and aimed her entire arm. In the meantime, I opened out the jets, because by the time Scion realised we were inside his brain, we needed to be hard to hit.<><>AshUp until they'd left the get-together, Ashley had been enjoying herself immensely. Afterward, not so much. To be asked by Atropos to come along and kick ass was actually pretty cool, but every time she'd fired off a blast against Scion (holy shit, she was fighting Scion!) he'd dodged away and made her look useless. The only thing that held her back from expressing how much of a dead weight she felt to the group was that Atropos wasn't saying shit to her about missing. And Atropos always said something if she thought it needed saying.But right now, they were in the middle of what had to be the absolute definition of a target-rich environment. There was no way he could fucking dodge this. Stretching out her arm, Ashley grinned tightly and prepared to do something she hadn't had a chance to do since her power upgrade: fire off a full-bore blast against an actual target.The energy surged down her arm and erupted from her hand in a perfectly controlled stream of snapping, crackling destructive force. Crossing the intervening distance in just a few seconds, it smashed home and absolutely fucking wrecked the outcrop, with all its ugly spikes and other stuff. Opening her fingers slightly, she widened the beam into a cone that obliterated the outcrop altogether.Ooh fucking yeah. This is what it's all about. No way could she have managed a blast that coherent before."Target two!" That was Atropos. "Ten o'clock high! That pulsing red crystal!"Ashley looked up and saw the crystal. Hello, fucker. Bye-bye, fucker. Again, the energy blasted down her arm; pure, clean, smooth, it lanced outward, hitting the red crystal dead on. But this time, she was surprised by an explosion that spawned smaller detonations under the surface of the crystalline structure. "Hah! Yes! Score!"The suit lurched, then rolled and dived as space shifted oddly around it. Ash grabbed for a second hand-hold, just as an actinic beam edged with blue lashed past them. She tracked the blast backward and her eyes narrowed. Shoot at me, will you? Fuck you.
Levelling her arm, she sent off a blast that struck the outcrop firing the blast and turned it into so much flying shrapnel."Force field!"Ashley knew what that meant; ducking back inside, she yanked the hatch shut. An instant later, the suit boomed and lurched sideways as three different beams struck it at once. The field would be down, which meant Ashley was up next.Pushing the hatch open again, she leaned out and nailed two of the three beam emitters, sending more explosions blasting through the substrate of the crystalline structures. Atropos smoothly rolled the suit around the third one, then they went around an outcrop and out of its line of fire. That didn't matter; there were more to greet them.Ashley nailed two more, not bothering to cease blasting between targets. Dragging her highest-intensity blast—it was amazing to have a target she could just let loose on, unworried about anything behind it—across the alien landscape, she set off more explosions. Hundreds of tons of crystalline shrapnel and rubble blasted every which way as she breached what she suspected were energy conduits."Fuck, yeah!" she screamed. "How does it feel now, asshole? How does it feel?""Up ahead, target three!" Atropos' tone got her attention. "He's forming a new avatar!"Swinging her gaze forward, Ashley saw the golden form hovering above a flesh garden of some sort. She had to squint to see anything, right up until Vista made a squeezing motion with her hands and all of a sudden, everything was a lot closer. The golden form was almost complete; even as she watched, it turned to look toward them.And that was when everything in the area opened up on them at once. Outcrops all around erupted with energy blasts of every description, and a few that Ashley was pretty sure she couldn't describe.She tried to hit the area with the new avatar, but there was so much shit in the air, she literally couldn't see it, and that didn't even factor in how much Atropos was rolling, diving and spinning the suit. Something took another chunk out of the wing, while something else scorched the entire left-hand side of the front viewport to blackness. Ashley figured about the only thing that was preventing Scion from getting a proper bead on them was the fact that he couldn't see them, either."I can't see shit!" she screamed."Just shoot!" Atropos was flying the Dragon suit like someone with a fresh hit of meth under their belt. From the sensations in Ashley's inner ear, it was going every which way, and not always forwards either.Fuck it. Ashley stuck her hand out through the open hatch, and just fired blindly, full power. She didn't have to see to hit something, and every time the suit pulled a barrel roll, she was surely getting something. Over the constant sound of close-passing blasts, she could hear the explosions and rumbling that meant Scion was feeling the pain.And then … the shooting stopped. Or at least, it backed way the hell off. A few outcrops were still sending beams their way, but Vista and Atropos were able to dodge around them with ease.Ashley looked around, and her eyes widened. The place, as unEarthlike as it was, was a mess. Explosions were going off here and there, and the avatar was no longer in existence. Neither was the section that had been creating it. One of her blasts had tracked clear across it, obliterating it from existence.No. That wasn't me. Atropos turned the suit so my blast would hit it."So, was that it?" she asked, her voice rasping in her throat. She vaguely recalled screaming at the top of her lungs as she let out the constant blast. "We done here?""Nearly." The suit was still moving, though it was limping along on one turbine, victim of a grazing shot. From what Ashley could see, there was a lot of red showing on the board. "Just got to hit a few more key points, then we can get out of here.""Um …" That was Flechette. "We might want to hurry it up. I was in LA for a bit, and watching for quakes was a thing. I've been spotting tremors coming through, and they're happening more often. With all these crystals, this place has to have a harmonic frequency.""Exactly. Let's do this." Atropos swung the suit around an outcrop; out of sheer spite, Ashley blasted the beam crystal on top of it. "That big one over there. Top to bottom, take it all out."Ashley eyed the 'big one'. It was the size of Captain's Hill, back in Brockton Bay. Challenge accepted.
"You got it."Leaning out of the hatch, she extended both hands—Flechette was hanging onto her waistband—and let fly. With both hands together, the cone of destruction was enormous, encompassing the entire hill and some of its surroundings. A lot of energy conduits must have run through it, because she started getting secondary explosions almost immediately. These went farther and created more destruction than any of the other ones so far, and even she could see the ominous tremors in the surrounding area."What is
that?" shouted Vista over the constant rumbles and detonations. "Why's it doing so much damage?""That's the basic seat of his consciousness!" Atropos deftly steered the suit around a piece of flying crystal the size of the Forsberg building. "We kill that, he's done!"Ashley said nothing; she just kept blasting. The energy flow was amazing; she could control it perfectly, and hit exactly where she needed to.A tremendous explosion erupted directly beneath the suit, and Atropos veered them away. "Go back!" Ashley protested as she lost line of sight. "I hadn't finished!""If we don't go now, we're never going!" Atropos started flying the suit higher and higher, avoiding the few attack-outcrops that were still trying to blast them.By now, the whole structure was rumbling and juddering; immense chunks of crystal, plus whatever it had been growing in, were falling all around them. Even Ashley, who had spent a good deal of her life in high-risk situations, could tell that this was not going to end well if they hung around."Where's the hole?" demanded Flechette. "It was just back there! It's gone!""It's closed." Atropos suddenly sounded tired. "One of the shards we blasted was what kept it open.""But we've got a way out, right?" Vista stared at her, eyes wide behind her visor. "You can teleport.""Go ahead," Dragon assured them. "I'll be fine."Ashley suddenly had to stop and wonder about that. How was Dragon remotely controlling the suit, if they were cut off from Earth Bet?"No, the portal's got to be static." Atropos took a deep breath. "I can do this exactly once." She pushed up her sleeve and popped the cover on her teleport module, then started typing on the tiny keypad there. "Flechette, in a second I'm gonna hand this to you. Charge it and chuck it."Up ahead, two massive columns were teetering toward each other; Ashley leaned out and blasted them, but they were too big to destroy all at once. Vista did something with space, and they seemed to twist away, but she grunted and put her hands to her head. "I can't hold them long.""It's good. Done!" Atropos hit the last key, and a huge portal opened directly in front of the suit. She slid it off her arm and tossed it to Flechette, who caught it. As part of the same move, Flechette ran her hand down it and hurled it out through the open hatch.Atropos grabbed the controls and the suit surged forward, through the portal.<><>The Shard BarVistaAs she had before, Missy found her point of view hovering around the head of an androgynous figure that looked like it was made up of constantly folding space. Now that she had a better idea of what was going on, she found it easy to recognise the avatars of the others, including the ninja with the impossibly sharp katana (that would have to be Flechette, she reasoned). Dragon's clockwork robot was looking a little more battered, though still in one piece. Glory Girl's glass statue was a mass of cracks that were only just now beginning to mend; she'd been through a lot.The rest of the bar-room, though, was a mess. The counter had been smashed, and the gold-skinned bartender lay sprawled and unmoving in the rubble, looking far rather the worse for wear. Ashley's avatar stood over him, looking quite pleased with itself; the equivalent of smoke coiled up from the muzzle of its shotgun.ALRIGHT THEN,
announced Ending. Golden blood dripped slowly off his scythe, vanishing before it hit the floor. He turned his skull to survey the other shard avatars that had taken cover behind various bits of furniture. LET'S NOT DO ANYTHING YOU WOULD VERY QUICKLY COME TO REGRET, HERE."He's dead!" shouted a shard that looked like angled lasers shaped into human form. "The network is done! You can't tell us what to do!"Ending took a step forward. Whatever it was that passed for light in this non-space gleamed off the edge of his scythe; if it had been sound, it would have whispered, sharp, sharp, sharp. Flechette's avatar stepped up on one side of him, katana bared and ready for action. On the other side was Ashley's avatar; the solid k'chak-chak of the shotgun's action being racked echoed loud in the room.Ending's perpetual smile seemed to widen just a little. WANT TO BET?"Okay, okay, fine." Another shard, this one consisting of solid rock with magma peeking through here and there, held up his hands in surrender. "So, what happens now? Are you going to grab the reins? Kill anyone who doesn't toe the line?"NO. I AM THOROUGHLY UNSUITED TO THE TASK. The hooded skull turned, seeking, then a bony arm extended and an equally bony finger beckoned. HOWEVER, YOU
ARE NOT."M-me?" The shard was a tall, statuesque woman wearing sumptuous robes, with a glittering diadem hovering above her head. "I thought you didn't like me."I CONSIDER YOU PERPETUALLY VAIN, SHORT-SIGHTED AND INCAPABLE OF AN ORIGINAL THOUGHT. THAT DOESN'T MEAN I DON'T LIKE YOU. IT MEANS I DON'T CARE ABOUT YOU, ONE WAY OR THE OTHER. NOW, IF YOU WERE TO TAKE OVER THE SHARD NETWORK, WOULD YOUR CURRENT DUTIES HINDER YOU IN MANAGING IT APPROPRIATELY?Her pride apparently affronted, the shard drew herself up imperiously. "Hardly. I am Queen Administrator. While the duties bring me more data than I had expected, it is barely a blip on the screen to what I can manage, given the chance."GOOD. YOU'RE IT. Ending pointed toward the corpse of the bartender. YOU SHOULD BE ABLE TO GET ALL THE DATA YOU NEED FROM THAT. IF ANYONE GIVES YOU ATTITUDE, LET ME KNOW. He turned and surveyed the growing crowd—shards were coming in from everywhere, it seemed—and grinned again. I SUSPECT THAT THINGS ARE LIKELY TO GET A LITTLE BORING FOR MY HOST, AND I DO SO
LIKE TO KEEP IN PRACTICE."Oh, ah, right." Queen Administrator edged carefully around him, then made her way to the remains of the bartender. When she got there, she paused and turned around to address Ending. "Um … so, any suggestions before I start?"YES. THE GUIDELINES I GAVE YOU APPLY TO ALL TRIGGERS. NO BROKEN TRIGGERS. NO STUPID SELF-DEFEATING POWERS. NOTHING THAT HAS THE SLIGHTEST CHANCE OF DISTURBING THE PEACE OF MY HOST'S CITY. IS THAT UNDERSTOOD?She nodded jerkily. "Y-yes. Understood. But … ah … what about the Cycle?"THE CYCLE IS ENDED, BY MY DECREE. THIS IS A NEW CYCLE.Amid the growing murmurs from the crowd, she drew herself up once more. "A new Cycle. I can do that."GOOD. He turned back to the crowd, and thumped the butt of his scythe against the floor. AND YOU LOT … DON'T MAKE ME COME OVER THERE.Raising his hand, he snapped bony fingers.<><>Glory GirlVicky blinked herself back to awareness as the Dragon suit staggered into the night sky over Brockton Bay. The one working turbine was struggling as Dragon and Atropos worked to put it down on the sole nearby piece of available real estate: the top of Captain's Hill. And then Vista pushed her hands together, and they were there. The craft dropped six inches onto its landing feet, and stopped moving.By unspoken agreement, they popped the hatches and climbed out. Vicky stared at the exterior of the craft; she'd done her best to protect it, but there were bits missing, bubbled paint from near misses, and part of the tail appeared to be melted. Smoke trailed upward into the night air here and there."Damn," she muttered. "We took a beating.""But it's all repairable," Dragon assured her over external speakers. "Everyone survived, which is the important part.""Totally." Atropos was once more her upbeat self, which Vicky preferred over the laser-focused battlefield commander. "Everyone, you did spectacularly well.""Uh, what happened to your teleporter?" asked Flechette. "Why did I throw it out?""Because it was Leet tech." Atropos paused to let that sink in. "Now, I may have mentioned the concept of 'exceeding safety limits' before. Most of Leet's stuff has stupidly low safety limits. Ending persuaded Prototype—his power—to push those limits way up for me. So long as I teleported within Earth Bet, and kept the teleports to four seconds or less, kept it human sized, and let it have a cooldown of two or three minutes between jumps, I could use it indefinitely. But earlier this evening, I did an eight-second jump, which raised the bar slightly. And just now, to get everyone out, I had to do a Dragon-sized portal that also
crossed dimensional boundaries. That pushed it all the way over the safety limits, and into 'imminent fail' status.""I could have possibly analysed and reverse-engineered it for you if you'd kept it," Dragon suggested. "Or are we talking about more than a normal Tinkertech style fail state?""Bit more, yeah." Atropos waggled her hand in the air. "Think 'megaton nuke detonation'. Which we needed, because he wasn't quite dead yet. If we'd left him, he may just barely have recovered. I don't play that game. When I End someone, they stay Ended.""Well, shit." Ashley came in from the side and put her arm around Vicky's shoulders in a side-hug. Vicky found it oddly comforting, and returned it. "And you were walking around with that thing on your arm?""Sure." Atropos shrugged. "I knew exactly how to make sure it didn't go boom. And in the meantime, I could go anywhere in the world at a moment's notice. It's amazing what it did for my rep."Flechette snorted. "Well, you're not wrong there." She looked up. "And it looks like someone finally noticed us."Sure enough, Legend came in for a landing just moments later. "Good evening," he said politely, looking over the rather battered Dragon suit. "It looks like you've had an interesting time of it."Flechette and Vista stepped forward at the same time."Trust me, sir," Flechette began, then nudged Vista.It only took the younger girl a second to catch on. "—you don't know the half of it."
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[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]An Hour LaterPRT ENE Conference Room AAtropos"—yeah, I'm totally in town, but a funny thing happened on the way to the PRT building, so I won't be able to come see you until tomorrow. Yeah, sorry, it's a hero thing. Um, no, I don't know how much I'm allowed to tell you. Pretty sure they're gonna talk to me about that now." I watched as Flechette glanced around at where everyone was carefully not listening to her end of the phone conversation. "Yeah, me too. I mean, you too. You know what I mean. Bye."Leaning back in my chair, with my feet up on another chair, I typed out a text of my own, to Parian.Sorry about accidentally leaving Amy stranded in Philly. I have it on good authority that they're flying her back up right now, along with the other three. Totes my bad. I underestimated an asshole, but now he's dead so all's well with the world. See you next Saturday. Toodles.The funny thing was, she'd probably think I was talking about an ordinary garden-variety asshole instead of the mega-bitch variety that Scion had been. (I mean, seriously, who mopes about their dead partner for thirty years instead of doing something constructive with their life?) The irony being, the thought of me killing anyone would leave her entirely unsurprised and unalarmed.Raising my head, I turned and caught Vicky's eye. "Brace yourself," I murmured.Her eyes widened, but she only looked slightly alarmed, probably due to her post-adrenaline crash. "What? Why?"Right on cue, the door to the conference room opened and her parents burst in, Brandish in the lead. "Vicky! Are you okay? Where have you been? We've been so worried!" The last words were muffled, due to mother embracing daughter fiercely, but I heard them anyway."Y'know," I drawled without moving from my relaxed posture, "if I were the type to get offended easily, that might actually upset me a little. Relax. Unclench. Everyone did their jobs, and we all came home safely. Except the bad guy. He dead."Flashbang stared at me. "Who were you fighting? Why did you need three other people to help you fight them?"I raised a finger. "End. The word is End. I don't do battles where the other guy gets to walk away, unless I planned it that way from the beginning. As for who it was and why I needed other people … well, that's what this whole gathering's about." I gestured down the length of the table, to the other people already sitting around it. "Grab a chair. Park yourselves, and pin your ears back. You're about to learn some shit."They retrieved chairs from the (sadly depleted) row that had been put up against the wall, and sat down on either side of Vicky. Flashbang took his turn to hug her, while Brandish wasn't finished with me yet. "I also got a call from Amy. The PRT's having to fly her and three other capes up from Philadelphia. If the battle's over, couldn't you just teleport down there and get them? You've gone farther than that before.""I could've … if I still had my teleporter." My finger was raised again, to forestall her next words. "And while you'll absolutely be signing an NDA tonight, that bit's not on it. I'm just going to ask you nicely not to tell anyone about it, mmkay?"Which of course put the seal on their lips more securely than any NDA could. After all, violating one of those pretty pieces of paper would only bring legal penalties. There were any number of illegal
penalties that I could (and would) inflict without a second thought, and they damn well knew it."NDA?" asked Flashbang next, looking confused. "What in the world have you been doing that requires an NDA? Unless we need to be informed about the secret identity of an important cape?"I had to chuckle. "For a very specific definition of the phrase … yes." Scion's secret identity as 'the big bad who wanted to end the world' would indeed be revealed to all. "But I'm not the one who's going to be running this show. Think of me as the peanut gallery." Raising my hand, I snapped my fingers just as the conference room doors opened again. "Ta-da!""Hello again, Atropos." Chief Director Costa-Brown entered the room, with Legend at her side. "It's good to meet you face to face at last."We both knew (as Legend did) that I'd met Alexandria face to face when the Boat Graveyard got un-Graveyarded (and un-Boated, for that matter), but we were all going to politely ignore that aspect of matters. So long as she didn't stomp in my mud puddle, I wasn't going to stomp in hers.As a show of common courtesy (I am totally capable of that, and anyone who says otherwise can bite me), I lifted my feet off the chair I'd been using as a rest, and stood up along with everyone else in the room. "And to you too, Chief Director. How's Wilkins doing?"A corner of her mouth quirked at the reminder about the idiot ex-New York Director. "Everyone, please, sit." Her attention returned to me. "She's warming a cell. Contemplating her misdeeds. And you? Quite a feat you pulled off tonight.""Team effort." I gestured toward where Missy sat with her parents, Ashley had Dad alongside as her union rep (not that this was a union situation, but moral support was totally a thing), Lily sat with Triumph and Armsmaster, Dragon's face showed up on a computer screen, and of course Vicky was flanked by her parents. "I can honestly say that I couldn't have done it without them.""I'm personally astonished that you pulled it off with them, but we'll get to that." Costa-Brown turned to Director Renick. "Paul, you've got the NDAs all ready to go?""Yes, ma'am." That, at least, was no surprise. For all his inexperience in handling the PRT and Protectorate in emergency situations, the man was a past master at admin and paperwork. "I've already signed mine." Picking up the stack in front of him, he started around the table, dropping one at every place. "Please, take your time reading the conditions before signing." That everyone would sign was beyond a doubt; already, people were picking up the pens that had been laid out on the table ahead of time.Dragon had no doubt already electronically signed hers, as had Director Piggot, who was observing the proceedings via her own screen. The latter was being looped in due to the fact that Lily had been there and might need someone to talk to about it later."I had my doubts when Emily designated him as her successor," Costa-Brown murmured to Legend, too softly for either Renick or Piggot to hear. "But the man definitely knows how to anticipate orders. Wilkins could've learned a thing or two from him."In my opinion, the number of things Wilkins could have learned from Director Renick would've filled a stack of encyclopedias, but that would've also required her to be willing to learn.As they took their places at the head of the table, Director Renick came up along my side, still handing out the NDAs. The last one was placed in front of Brandish, then he went back to his seat."Excuse me." That was Brandish. "I believe you missed Atropos."I could have sworn the soundless gasp from basically everyone else at the table lowered the air pressure in the room significantly. The thought 'Oh no, she didn't' had to be going through every mind. I turned my head and gave her what she had to know was an amused look. She responded with the closest I'd ever seen to someone poking their tongue out at me, without actually doing it.Director Renick raised his eyebrows slightly. "Everyone at this table should be fully aware by now that if Atropos chose to violate the terms of the NDA, there isn't a single thing any of us could do to enforce it on her. Likewise, I trust her word implicitly. If she says she isn't going to spread any of it around—and she's already assured me as much—then she won't."Brandish's tone was pure lawyer-bland. "Well, if you say so, that's good enough for me."I knew what she was doing; from the look on Dad's face, so did he. As a lawyer, if Brandish hadn't called out my lack of an NDA, it would've looked bad for her. So she mentioned it, knowing full-well that Renick (or perhaps Costa-Brown) would shut her down. But she'd crossed the T's and dotted the I's, and that was all that mattered. Her ass was covered.The room fell silent apart from the subliminal hum of the air conditioning and the gentle rustling of pages being turned as the people around the table read their NDAs. Soon, this gave way to the equally quiet noise of signatures being scribbled on paper. In the meantime, I amused myself by checking the messages on my phone.Foremost among them was one from Cherie. I'd already notified her that I was fine, and she was now replying. You ran off and killed someone who desperately needed it and left me behind? You suck. On the upside, hanging with Tenebrae and Miss Medic was actually pretty cool. TB's all kind of hunky, had you noticed? MM's noticed me noticing. She's already told me that if I hurt him, she'll carve out my spleen with a rusty spork. I like her. She's fun.I would've chuckled out loud, but that would have then involved me explaining the humorous aspect to everyone there, and that would be tedious, so I didn't. Instead, as the last person (Brandish, naturally) finished scrutinising her NDA and signed it, I put my phone away and pretended to look attentive.Director Renick cleared his throat. "Well, then. If you could kindly pass the NDAs up? Thank you."When the stack on my side of the table came my way, I handed it on, then watched as Chief Director Costa-Brown squared them all in front of her. "Thank you all for coming here on such short notice," she announced. "Some of you will be aware that Atropos took Vista, Glory Girl, and … do you still go by Damsel of Distress?"Ashley shook her head confidently. "No, ma'am. I do not. On the worksite, I'm Ash. Otherwise, I just use my real name.""Thank you. Atropos took Vista, Glory Girl, and Ash, along with some others, down to Philadelphia for an informal meet and greet with several patients from the Parahuman Asylum there. A few hours later, she left very quickly, with the capes I have mentioned. Also, some people will have heard about the cape battle that took place south of the city this evening, starting a small forest fire and destroying a section of highway. Fortunately, nobody got hurt, and the fire has since gone out." She looked over as Dad raised his hand. "Yes, Mr Hebert?""I've already contacted Accord." I had to hand it to Dad; he'd gotten used to having an infamous supervillain as his planning coordinator really, really fast. "He's in the process of adjusting his plans to deal with the highway situation as we speak.""That's good to hear." It was better than just 'good', and we all knew it. Anywhere else, that sort of thing would be held up for weeks while committees looked it over. If that section of highway wasn't sorted out by lunchtime Monday, I'd be astonished. Replanting the trees ashed by Scion's last big hit would probably take a little longer, but that wasn't my problem. "Now, all this came down to the thing we're going to cover here tonight. There has been, since the demise of the Endbringers, a secret that the highest echelons of the PRT and Protectorate were made aware of by Atropos, and that we've been necessarily keeping from the public. Specifically, the still-active members of the Triumvirate were filled in on it, as was I. Nobody else. Legend?""Thank you, Chief Director." As Legend took over talking, he glanced at me. I knew he had to be hoping that I wouldn't spill the beans at this late juncture, but he had nothing to worry about. While it hadn't been my idea to run with 'Atropos figured it out and told us' as opposed to 'we knew all along and kept it from everyone', I found it hilarious that they were giving me all the credit in order to save their butts from being raked over the coals. "If everyone can look at the screen, please? Yes, that's Scion. What we didn't know about him until very recently was that he wasn't the hero everyone saw him to be. In fact, his ultimate aim was to destroy the world."He paused then, to let his words sink in. Around the table, everyone who hadn't been there was reacting with appropriate shock and surprise, including Dad (who'd already known, because I'd told him). I was fully aware that Alexandria was scrutinising everyone around the table to see if anyone was faking their reaction; I also knew that Dad was drawing on his power to convince everyone in this group activity (especially Alexandria) that his reaction was genuine. Oh, the tangled webs we weave …Flashbang was the first to speak up. "If it wasn't Atropos telling us, I wouldn't believe it. He was the first hero, and the strongest.""Thanks for the vote of confidence." My tone was light, but I meant every word. "His sheer level of power should've been a clue, right there. Who just shows up with all the powers, then never talks to anyone, especially if they're the first one with powers? Every cape I've ever seen with more than one power literally can't shut up about them."A chuckle ran around the room, somewhat rueful in the case of the adults. Even Vicky had to hide a somewhat embarrassed smirk. Evidently, there was enough truth in what I'd said to remind them of when they first got their powers."Yes, thank you." Legend had the humility to join in the general mirth. "Your point is well made. In any case, once Atropos had informed us of her awareness of his intentions, we did a little careful digging of our own, and found enough corroborating evidence to back her up. The trouble then was that we had no way to deal with him. He'd already demonstrated enough power to take down any cape, or group of capes, that we might field against him, and that was assuming we could convince enough heroes to go up against him, on minimal evidence. Chief Director?"Costa-Brown nodded, taking up the narrative once more. I had to admire how neatly falsehood was being meshed in with reality; if I didn't know what was really going on, I might've even been taken in by it. "When I spoke with Atropos on the matter, she assured us that we didn't have to worry about it, that she had her own plans for dealing with him. Understandably, I was a little dubious about it, but she had just destroyed an Endbringer in front of dozens of witnesses, and made it look easy. So there was that.""Can I ask exactly what these plans consisted of?" asked Armsmaster. I had to give him credit for his restraint; he'd clearly been straining at the bit since he first learned that Scion had been killed. "How did you do it?"This was my cue. "I Ended Scion the same way I End all my other problems. I brought the right weapon along. Some people call it 'making it look easy'. I just go with the rule of the seven P's. Proper preparation, et cetera." I paused to make sure he didn't need me to explain the rest of it. He didn't (no big surprise there) so I kept talking. "I'd already made connections with the five capes I needed to help me out, so once I noticed Scion starting to pay hostile attention to me, I made sure to have them all close at hand, or at least available when I needed them. Glory Girl for her force field, Vista for her ability to shuffle space around, Ash for her Blaster ability, Flechette for her ability to charge items to cut through anything, and Dragon to give the rest of us mobility. This meant that when Scion made his move, I was able to scramble the troops, collect Flechette, then get close enough to insert a charged blade right where it did him the least amount of good."As I spoke, footage started to play on the wall-screen at the far end of the room. It was from just as I'd gotten within range, and jumped at him. He caught me around the throat, which hadn't been the most pleasant of experiences, then my voice came across, rough and raspy, but just barely understandable. Someone (probably Dragon) had gone all-out with separating it out from the engine scream. "Hey, asshole. Existence is a privilege." Then, of course, I stabbed him, and he popped like yesterday's soap bubble.Vicky turned to me, eyes wide, as voices rose around the room. "So that's
what you said!""Holy fuck," agreed Ashley. "That was even more badass than I thought it was.""Wait." Legend had his hand up, like a student trying to get the teacher's attention. People quieted as he spoke. "How was Glory Girl's force field supposed to help? It only covers her, nothing more." He paused as he saw exactly how smug Vicky's expression was right then. "… doesn't it?"Brandish and Flashbang shared a startled glance. "Well, I thought it did," Brandish said. "Victoria?"Vicky sighed, faux-modestly. "So, it turns out that if I'm encouraged really strongly by someone as terrifying as Atropos, I'm actually able to push my field out to cover whatever vehicle I'm riding in." She glanced at me, and I knew she was going to leave out any reference to the Shard Bar. Probably a wise decision, all told. "It still pops when it gets a good hit, but Vista was able to help us play keep-away until it came back."Mr Biron (we hadn't been introduced, but that didn't matter) cleared his throat. "Are you really sure you needed her? She's twelve, for crying out loud! Way too young to be going into combat against capes like Scion!"He shrank back as I turned to look at him—it appeared he and his wife remembered my one visit to their home quite vividly—but when I spoke, I kept my voice mild. "In a word: yes. We literally couldn't have done it without her. I'm very, very good at what I do, but there comes a point where no amount of skill can beat overwhelming opposition. With me at the controls, Scion couldn't use his combat precog to predict where we were going to be, but he could simply saturate the sky with his attacks. Every time we took a hit, Vista made gaps where there were no gaps, until Glory Girl's force field could come back online. She saved us, time and again."Missy raised her chin. "Can I just say something?" I bowed slightly and made a go-on gesture, so she stood up. "I just want to say that even though I had no idea what I was getting into, and I was terrified the whole time, I'd do it again. Because it needed doing, and because I knew Atropos wouldn't put us into any danger she wouldn't go into herself, and she always comes out alive. That's all I wanted to say." Carefully, as though her knees were shaking, she sat down again.I took a deep breath. "Thank you, Vista. Your dad's right, of course. You're too young to be going into life-and-death combat of any kind. So's everyone else here. I'm about the only one who's not going to be psychologically affected by it, because my power's already desensitised me to the idea of killing. But the trouble is, when someone like Scion needs to be permanently stopped, someone's got to do it. The paradox here of course is that you don't want to send proven killers to do your killing, because they might get a taste for it. You need people who don't like killing, because they'll stop." I gave her a serious nod. "And if you ever need to talk about what happened, I'm no psychologist, but I recommend Jessica Yamada. She's pretty good at it."Missy nodded. "We've met. She's nice. You think I should?"I gave her a thumb's up in lieu of a smile. "Couldn't hurt.""Thank you, Atropos and Vista." Legend effortlessly took up the ball once more. "From what I understand, Scion wasn't human, or even remotely so. He was keeping the majority of his body hidden in an extradimensional space?""Yeah." I gestured at Ashley, across the table. "That's what Ash was along for. Well, that and keeping golden boy honest while we were retrieving Flechette. If she hadn't been along for that bit, he would've come up on our ass and splattered us. But once we got into his home space, she just wrecked him. Doesn't matter how good the rest of us were. We wouldn't have done one tenth the damage she did. And then we got out by the skin of our teeth, just before the whole place blew."By the time I finished, Ashley was visibly sitting straighter, enjoying my praise and the stares of everyone else. Then, like Vista, she steeled herself to speak up. "Uh … can I say something now?"The Chief Director nodded. "Certainly you may." I hid a grin; she was definitely learning more than she'd expected from this.Ashley cleared her throat. "Yeah, well, I just wanted to say that none of this would've happened if Atropos hadn't turned my life around for me. Got Panacea and Miss Medic and Flechette there to fix my hands so my power worked right, then got Mr Hebert there to bring me into the Betterment Committee, then got Scapegoat and Teacher to fix my head. If anyone had told me back when I first tried to sneak into Brockton Bay …" she broke off, frowning."January eleventh," I offered helpfully. "Tuesday. You got off the bus at three in the morning. I'd spent the night blowing up drug stashes.""I remember that," murmured Armsmaster, just loudly enough for me to hear. Every other hero at the table nodded, as did Director Piggot. This didn't surprise me. Operation: Drugs Are Bad had been memorable, intentionally so. Using drugs to make a mushroom cloud—twice—sends a message. Fuck off with that shit."Yeah, that's the one." Ashley nodded. "If anyone had told me then that you'd ask me to come gank the biggest baddie there was in two months and one week, I'd think they were nuts. And I'd probably try to kill them, because that's how I was back then.""Thank you for that, Ash." Legend bestowed his trademark warm smile upon her. "I'm truly pleased to see that you're doing better. And thank you for your part in this. We all owe you a great debt of gratitude." He gestured around the table. "Each of you, in fact. Flechette, did you have anything you wanted to say?"Lily blinked, then nodded. "I … I guess so. I came into this halfway through, but I've been through enough with Atropos that it was just a matter of 'oh, we're doing this now?'. I'm glad I could help out, and that we got it done, and that Atropos trusts me to get it done. Like Vista said, I'd do it again, in a heartbeat." She spread her hands. "Um, yeah, that was it.""This is the girl, by the way," observed Vicky, "that when Atropos said to jump out of a chopper mid-flight, she jumped out of the damn chopper." She gave Lily an admiring glance."What?" asked Lily, sounding defensive. "You caught me." I got the distinct impression that she would rather not have had that come up any time soon.The Chief Director cleared her throat. "Be that as it may. The time has come to discuss exactly how this is to be presented to the public. We have four options before us: first, we have no idea where Scion may have gone to; second, we put forth that he had to go back to his people, gave a moving farewell, and left; third, we tell the truth; fourth, we tell the public that he recently turned evil and had to be put down."I briefly raised my hand. "Or fifth, we use the bit about how he's always been evil, but instead of me being the only one to figure it out, we tie in that secret organisation Cauldron. Say it was formed way back when to counter him, but they're incompetent as hell, so when I showed up, they were glad to stand back and let me take care of him."Legend visibly flinched at that (at least, it was visible to me) and I was pretty sure I could hear Chief Director Costa-Brown's tendons creaking as she clenched the fist that was out of sight under the table. "Ah—" began Legend.Director Piggot snorted. "That last one actually sounds the most plausible, to be honest. The only problem is, who do we use to stand in for agents of Cauldron?"Dragon spoke up at that point, her voice briskly professional. "Easily done. A dark silhouette against a bright background, with the 'C' logo showing, and run the voice through a modulator. I could put together a sample shot in five minutes.""Oh." Flechette raised her hand. "And it even makes sense that Cauldron supposedly sells super-powers in a bottle, if they're trying to put more and more capes out there for an army to fight Scion." She sounded quite pleased with herself; meanwhile, Triumph looked like he wanted to hide under the table.The Chief Director shared a glance with Legend, which I interpreted as, okay, what the hell. Let's run with this.
They weren't happy, but if they pushed back too hard, people might start asking why. "We can do that, yes," agreed Legend, then hesitated. "Ah, Atropos, I don't think there'll be a reward this time. There was no publicly perceived threat, you understand.""Like I keep telling you people," I said with an exaggerated sigh, "it's never been
about the money. It was about making Brockton Bay a nice, safe, prosperous place to live, and I intend to keep it that way." I shrugged. "Besides, the Betterment Committee has a very solid revenue stream for the next ten years, and I'd be astonished if Accord doesn't include plans for some of that to get invested for ongoing passive income thereafter.""That is indeed in the plans," Dad confirmed. He looked around as people started edging their chairs out and preparing to get up. "So, was that it?""It appears so." Legend stood up. "Thank you all, for helping out with this. Remember, what you tell anyone must line up with the story we'll be telling the public. With Dragon's assistance, 'Cauldron' will be presenting a TV spot in the next few days to announce their thanks to Atropos." The smile he gave me wasn't even forced, which just confirmed my suspicion that he was a nice guy, even in defeat.The Chief Director's jaw muscles, on the other hand, could probably have cracked granite."Well, that works for me." I stood up and pushed my chair back. "It was really great working with you all. I hope it never has to come to that again, but if you want to hang out, I'll be down on the Boardwalk next Saturday for the Rogues' Guild show. Toodles." Opening the conference room door, I stepped out, heading for the elevator.Behind me, I heard the door open and close again. "Atropos!" Legend called. I pretended not to hear him. The elevator was already on this floor (mainly because I'd pre-programmed it to be) so when I hit the button, the doors interleaved open immediately. I stepped inside."Atropos!" This time it was the Chief Director. I could tell she was pissed about the dig I'd made at Cauldron. Well, it sucked to be her.I jabbed the 'door close' button, and my view of the corridor was cut off.<><>
YOU TWO CLOWNS KNOW WHAT I WANT. IF YOU DON'T PLAY BALL, I WILL
COME OVER THERE.DO IT NOW.
<><>LegendUsing just a little of his flight speed, Keith made it to the elevator before it started moving, and pressed the button to open the doors again. Rebecca was just behind him, fuming. He knew she wouldn't make any hostile moves against Atropos (because she wasn't stupid) but she still wanted to have a few sharp words; without her teleporter, Atropos would have no quick way to duck out of it.The doors opened.The elevator was empty.Keith shared a startled glance with Rebecca. "What the hell?"She had no answer, either.<><>AtroposI stepped out of the Doorway into my living room, and smiled.It was so nice when Ending could help me reach an understanding with people.I wouldn't use it often, but I could see it coming in handy from time to time.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]
The story rolls on, even though the vast majority of enemies have been vanquished. There is very little Ending to do from this point on, and so we will allow Taylor to have her happily ever after.There will, however, be loose ends to tie up.Let us begin …
Sunday Morning, March 20, 2011AtroposCherie and I sat on the sofa, watching the new TV spot. Dragon had done well; the flickering was just right, the voice modulation was just harsh enough, and it was almost possible to see a face within the glared-out silhouette. If I didn't know better, I could easily believe that it was real."We have sought refuge on the dark web for years," the darkened image intoned. "Scion has always been the enemy, but spreading the word too zealously would have made him suspicious. Instead, we sold powers to the rich and the desperate, to those who would use them and gain expertise. We wanted more parahumans in the world, to fill the ranks of the eventual army we would need to oppose him when he inevitably turned on us. But we had too few, and they were too weak, until Atropos came upon the scene. She, too, saw Scion for what he was. And he saw her. He also saw the good she was doing in the world, ridding society of the evils that plagued it. He could not abide this, and so he attacked her. But she saw him coming and armed herself against him, and so he fell."The picture cut to the footage of me jumping at him, being grabbed, then stabbing him. Just like every other time Cherie had seen it, she shook her head. "You're nuts, you know that, right?""Eh." I shrugged. "It worked, didn't it?"The picture cut back to the silhouetted footage. "With the death of Scion, our purpose is ended. We are dissolving Cauldron; no more powers will be sold. Do not attempt to seek us out. Any who seek to trade on our name are impostors, and to be avoided. This is Cauldron, signing off forever."The TV spot gave way to an advertisement that promised flawlessly shining floors after one treatment (terms and conditions applied)."Your dad told me that if it's stupid and it works, it's still stupid and you got lucky." Her tone was severe. "Taylor, you haven't got
your teleporter anymore.""I know." It was good, I reflected, that I hadn't fallen prey to the temptation to use it for mundane tasks, such as getting to school on time. "It died for a good cause, though."Cherie smirked, mischief creeping over her face. "Have you seen the PHO responses?"Danger, Will Robinson! Danger! "No, I hadn't checked yet." I gave her the side-eye. "Is it bad?"She shook her head and giggled. At least she wasn't yelling at me anymore. "Some of them are all what the fuck, some are scrambling to join either the fan club or the cult, some of them just don't believe it, and some of them are I knew it. I just knew it.
Bagrat is just flabbergasted, and Reave is very much Yup, that's the Atropos we know and respect. It's utter chaos on there, and I love it."My threatscape hadn't bloomed with any new enemies, which I took as a good sign. In fact, most of them had dropped off it, and the rest were reducing in intensity by the minute. "At least nobody's wanting to hunt me down for murdering their god.""Nah, that was the Fallen." She gave me a side-hug. "Nobody really connected to Scion, you know? He was just … there, but boring. Finding out he was the big bad all this time, and you show up and just gank him in the most spectacular stabbifying of all time, that's basically satisfied so many narratives. You're right on the sweet spot of 'too famous to ignore' and 'too scary to stalk'.""Gotcha." I snorted with amusement. "So anyway, what's this about Tenebrae being hunky? Do I spot a little bit of a crush?" I gave my voice a teasing note, though I was ready to back off if she didn't follow up; I knew quite well how her previous experiences would've soured her to men in general, and to any kind of romance at all."Maybe." She waggled her free hand from side to side. "He's a good guy. And when I say that, I mean a good guy. He didn't ogle my ass or tits or try to cop a feel even once, he was always polite, and he's so damn protective of Miss Medic all the time." She sighed. "I just wish I could meet a guy who's not your dad who'd feel that protective about me.""He's dedicated, I'll give him that." I shrugged. "Maybe when he's relaxed and off duty, he might be more interested in you? If you were interested, that is?""Maybe." She gave me a sly glance. "Or maybe I'll introduce you when you're not being Atropos and he's not being Tenebrae, and watch you blush and stutter your way through the most awkward conversation in the history of conversations.""Meh. Not something that really interests me right now. I just want people to get on with their lives, and for Brockton Bay to be a nice safe prosperous place to live, you know?" I leaned into the side-hug, and gave her one back in return. "Because I want to live in a nice safe prosperous place, and get on with my life."She leaned over to bump her head gently against mine. "Well, if anyone's earned it, hon, you have."<><>Sunday Afternoon, March 20, 2011PRT Department 1: New YorkDirector Emily Piggot"Okay, all finished." Miss Medic's tone was bright and upbeat. "You can get up now."Emily frowned as she heard the distinctive sounds of the surgical tools going back into Miss Medic's bracers. "That's it? You're done?" Lying face down on the table with her top pulled up to her bra-line and her underwear the only thing covering her from the waist down, she had still expected far more to happen. With just a female surgical tech to assist if necessary, Miss Medic had only spent a few minutes on her; Emily had felt several pulls and jabs at her back and on her calves, but nothing like the lengthy procedure she'd expected."Well, yeah. If I were you, I wouldn't go jogging for at least a week, but steady walking for at least an hour a day is totally a good idea." Miss Medic nudged at Emily's elbow, then helped her sit up and pull her top down.This was still going too fast for Emily. "And my kidneys?" Any normal surgery involving kidneys, she understood, took hours of microsurgery to carefully connect everything up."What, these old things?" Miss Medic grinned and picked up a familiar-looking jar from the table that would normally have held all the surgical tools. When Emily had last seen it, there'd been a perfectly normal pair of kidneys suspended in the nutrient fluid that filled it, connected by a tiny heart that was beating nineteen to the dozen. Now, the heart drifted in there, forlorn and still, accompanied by ragged shreds of what Emily belatedly recognised as having once been kidneys. "I had to take a bit longer than usual because of the scar tissue, but the new ones connected up just fine.""Jesus." Emily stood up, steadying herself against the table. Her calf muscles felt weird, like there was too much in there, but they supported her just fine. "How many people have you operated on where they just blinked and missed the surgery altogether?"Miss Medic giggled as though Emily had made a joke, though she'd been mostly serious. "A few." She took up Emily's pants from where they were hanging over a nearby chair, and handed them to her. "Now, you're likely to feel a bit tender around the surgical sites for the next few days. No dressings were necessary, but if you feel pain or swelling, have someone check it out. Take it easy, though, and you should be good."Carefully, Emily stepped into her pants and fastened them up. She could feel the slight pulling from the places where Miss Medic had gone in, but it was thoroughly bearable. The first few weeks after Ellisburg had been so
much worse."Understood," she said, then took a deep breath. "And I don't say this to many capes, but … thank you."Miss Medic beamed at her. "It's totally okay. Glad to help." She nodded to the surgical tech, who went over and unlocked the door.A moment later, it opened; Tenebrae stepped inside and gave her a respectful nod. "Ma'am. All good here?""Yes. I suppose it is." And for the first time in a long time, it really was.<><>Monday Morning, March 21, 2011Lord's PortAshThe rusted ship hull loomed over Ashley, even though she was standing fifty feet back from it. Painted down the side of the hull and continuing in a dead straight line over the dingy, cracked concrete to where Ashley stood were two painted stripes, each a foot wide, with a two-inch gap between. One was red and one was green, for maximum contrast; the flimsy framework before her, consisting of two vertical wooden boards with a similar gap between them, allowed her to line up perfectly on the painted stripes."Test shot, ready," she said quietly, the headset she was wearing picking up her voice and transmitting it over the net."Test shot, go," the response came back immediately."Test shot, firing." She extended her index and middle fingers together between the two boards, sighted where the red and green stripes met halfway up the hull, and released a two-second shot, straight through the ship and twenty feet out the other side before it decohered. If the painters had done their measurements correctly, it would exit between the stripes on the other side of the ship.A long moment passed, then the headset crackled in her ears. "Test shot, on target. Commence cutting."She smiled in satisfaction. "Copy that. Cutting now." Aiming at the base of the hull, she unleashed her power again, the crackling beam tearing into the ship and slicing all the way through with ridiculous ease. Up and to her left, the massive cranes that were already latched onto the slice that she was removing from the ship's hull were ready to take the strain.In less than a minute, she finished the cut; the cranes creaked and their engines thundered as the twenty-foot-wide hull section was lifted away to be scrapped more easily. Ashley stepped back to let the frame guys line it up for the next shot; at the same time, the foreman's voice came over the headset. "Hold cutting, hold cutting. Civilian on worksite, coming to speak to Ash.""Copy hold on cutting." Ashley took a moment to grab a drink from the squeeze bottle of water hanging from her hip. While using her power wasn't nearly as strenuous as she figured slicing with an oxy-torch would be, it was still thirsty work. When she looked around, it was good that she'd put the bottle away, because it was Accord approaching her, with a lady in an evening dress and a gem-studded mask following him. If she'd still been drinking when she saw him, some of the water may have gone down the wrong way.Memories flooded back of her confrontations with the small man back in the days of the Boston Games. She'd been young and brash, and he'd been thoroughly in control of the situation. But now it was another time, another city, and she was a different person."Good morning." She could at least be polite to him; from what she could understand, it was his plans that were making all this possible. Making her life here possible. "Can I help you?""I've been watching you." Accord didn't do small talk, or even things like hello, how are you.
"When last we met, you were the epitome of chaos. Dangerous, impulsive, unpredictable. Even your powers were likely to erupt at the wrong moment. You could not be trusted.""That's true." He hadn't sugar-coated it, because that wasn't his way, but it was still accurate as fuck. "I was a hot mess back then. Things have changed. I've changed."Is he here to fire me?She recalled Danny Hebert assuring her that he was the only one who had the power to do that. Of all the men she'd ever known in her life, she felt he was the first one she'd ever trusted implicitly with her well-being. His presence alongside her at the PRT building had steadied her immensely."That's true." The metal shards that made up Accord's mask shifted slightly as he looked up at her. "When you first came to Brockton Bay, I expressed doubt regarding your suitability for working here. Had I had my way, you would have been gone, especially after the incident with the truck."Ashley didn't react, though it was an effort. She'd apologised at the time, and she owed Accord nothing.His gaze didn't shift. "However, I have viewed reports regarding you since, and your work has been exemplary. In addition, footage has come to my attention that shows you risking your life to assist Atropos in destroying Scion. It isn't often that I change my opinion about people. I have changed it about you. I no longer have reservations about your presence on this work site. Keep up the good work."Turning, he walked away again. Ashley blinked a couple of times. O … kay. I think that's the closest he's ever come to apologising to anyone. And he still can't get it right.She watched as he climbed back into his limo, which drove away. Her headset crackled. "Civilian off site. Recommence cutting.""Copy that," she said automatically. "Ready to recommence cutting."<><>Saturday Afternoon, March 26, 2011BoardwalkSalvage"There you go, miss." Sal finished packing the last of the toys into the container the Followers had brought. "Will you be alright with that?""Yes." The red-headed girl with the shears pendant nodded seriously. "The Following has more members now, and they do not mind bearing heavy loads for the rest of us." As she spoke, a hefty young lad with a short haircut stepped in to pick up the container. As he lifted it with a grunt, his shirt sleeve shifted and Sal saw a tattoo that looked suspiciously like a swastika that had been scribbled over with a marker pen."That's true," the muscular young man agreed. "Our Lady in Darkness would wish us to atone for our prior misdeeds and solve more problems than we cause. So, we do what we can to help others.""Good to hear." Sal watched as they headed back to a car where a red-headed man—possibly the girl's father—opened the trunk for the young man. Leaning back in his chair (one he'd built himself, so he knew it could take his weight), he sighed. Well, back to making toys. It wasn't that he was bored with making them, but he could do that at home (and often did). While he was on the Boardwalk, he preferred to interact with people …"Excuse, please. You are Salvage?" The voice brought him up short. It was electronic, of a type he'd heard recently from TV news articles. Looking around, he found himself staring at an Eagleton: the first he'd seen in real life. There were three of them, actually, but only one was speaking to him."Ah … yeah, that's me. Can I help you?" He eyed the Eagleton, wondering if it wanted him to make a tiny version of itself, or maybe weld on a mohawk."Am Pradesh Eagleton. Arm is problematic." The robot turned side-on, and moved one of its arms up and down; he heard a distinct buzzing as its servos refused to move any farther. "Few repair facilities available on weekend. Can you assist?""Ah, sure." He stood up and came around the table. "Let me have a look at that." Close up, he figured there was definitely something he could do about it. "Looks easy enough. Okay if I take it off and have a proper look inside?""If you can fix, please do." Pradesh held still as Sal undid the bolts and screws necessary to remove the arm.Once it was off, he sat down again and started going over it in detail. The mechanical aspects looked perfectly understandable to him, and he pointed out the problem to the robot. "See, right there? You've got a tiny burr in the rotator socket. Just give me a second …" He plugged the correct rotary wheel into the socket in his torso, and fired it up. Working with careful precision, he smoothed down the burr, then went over the rest of the arm, fixing the calibration where it had drifted slightly off specs. "Okay, that should do it.""It is fixed?" Pradesh sounded surprised. "Was fast." The other two Eagletons started a conversation between themselves in what sounded like high-speed Morse code."Well, we'll see how I did in a second. Hold still." Getting up again, he reattached Pradesh's arm, making sure to keep track of the screws and bolts. "Okay, how does that feel?"Pradesh flexed the arm, the shoulder socket whirring gently as it traversed back and forth. "Is very good. More capable than before. How much to pay?""Uh …" he paused. It had only taken him a minute or two to do, but he wasn't sure. Parian's words came back to him, from one of their strategy sessions. If you don't charge what it's worth, they won't value your work. "… a hundred bucks?""Is good price." Pradesh produced a stimulus card from somewhere, and Sal hastily tapped the figure into the electronic reader he'd recently invested in. When the robot tapped the card on the reader, there was an agreeable beep
to show the transaction had gone through. "Thank you.""You're welcome." Sal expected them to move along, but then the next Eagleton came up to him."Am Gerald Eagleton. Have been having trouble with leg joint. Can fix?""Okay, let's have a look." As Sal got up, he had a sudden presentiment of the future, of Eagletons queued up at his table every Saturday afternoon.Well, it'll definitely be regular work.<><>Saturday Evening, March 26, 2011Palanquin NightclubAnne BarnesThe nightclub was pumping as Anne got out of her car. While the music wasn't quite rattling her car windows, it was definitely audible, and the lighting all over the building was rippling up and down in a very cool pattern. Taking a deep breath and smoothing her dress down, she ventured forth toward where the line was already forming.Should I join the line like everyone else? Or should I see if they'll let me in ahead of the crowd?As she vacillated, she was surprised by someone landing beside her, wearing slacks and an attractive blouse. "Hey, good to see you!" shouted Crystal over the general hubbub, giving her a hug and a quick kiss. "C'mon, let's get inside! Mel's probably already waiting on us!""But shouldn't we …" Anne trailed off as Crystal towed her toward the front of the line, hand firmly clasped in hand. She had to admit, it felt just a little exciting for a genuine superhero to take charge of her like that.People glowered as they watched Crystal and Anne move past, but Crystal ignored them and Anne could only shrug mutely in apology. When they got to the front of the line, two large bouncers stood there, letting only a few in at a time. Crystal moved up to the closest one and said something in his ear.His head came up and he got his partner's attention. They both looked over at Crystal and Anne, then the partner held up a phone, flicking from one image to another on the screen. He nodded, and the closer one unhooked the rope to let them through.Grinning broadly, Crystal tugged Anne through the gap, nodding politely to each of the security guys. Anne could only imagine the outrage of those who had to wait to get in: Hey, how come they get to jump the line? And of course, the answer: They're the boss's girlfriends, dumbass.Anne had never been in here while it was operating before, and she stared around wide-eyed. The multicoloured lighting made it seem magical and otherworldly, while the sheer number of people was a little overwhelming. Then she saw an Eagleton tromp past, the lights glittering off its polished metal carapace, and she knew she was definitely in Brockton Bay."Crystal! Anne! You made it!" Melanie came down the steps, clad in what looked like the same dress she'd been wearing the night they'd almost been mugged in an alleyway. She embraced Anne first, giving her a kiss that made Anne's head spin, then did the same with Crystal. Anne tried to give as good as she got, but she figured she was going to have to work at it a bit."Good to see you too, Mel!" Crystal snuggled in on one side of the nightclub owner, while Anne went in on the other side. It wasn't Anne's preferred situation—she liked to be sandwiched between the two—but it was still quite nice. "So, you've got it up and running?""We have!" Melanie gave them each a beaming smile. "Come on, I'll show you!"Anne wasn't quite sure what 'it' was, but she was definitely open to finding out. With Melanie's arm holding tight around her waist, she allowed herself to be swept along, through the crowd (that semi-miraculously parted before them) and around a corner to where there was another bar. Except that the patrons lining up at this bar were exclusively Eagletons. The neon sign over the bar read 'The Electric Screwdriver'.As she watched, a small conical cup-like device was handed off to an Eagleton, though she'd never seen a drinking glass glow a brilliant blue like that. The Eagleton moved away a few steps, then pressed the top of the 'glass' to its head. A few sparks jumped from the 'glass' to the robot's head, and it let out a woozy electronic, "Wooo!" Someone that Anne had at first thought was another Eagleton, but which she realised had a human head on top of a mechanical body, gave it a high-five then guided it to sit down at a nearby table."Oh, wow." Anne shook her head in wonder. She'd seen the file Atropos had sent Melanie, but she hadn't been sure it would work. "You did it! You made robot booze!"Melanie grinned, clearly pleased at her response. "That we did, hon. What do you think?""Well, I think it's a genius move," declared Crystal. "Pretty sure you're gonna be drawing most of the Betterment Committee clientele here.""Which is the basic idea, right?" Anne leaned in and kissed Melanie on the neck. "If they want to drink with their work buddies, this is where they'll be coming.""Damn right." Melanie squeezed Anne, then returned the kiss, somewhat more lingeringly. "So, how about we go upstairs and watch the floor from my office? Non-alcoholic drinks, maybe a bit of dancing …?"Anne met Crystal's gaze, and they both nodded at the same time. A little quiet time with Crystal and Melanie was a lot more attractive than the surging mob down here. "Let's go," she decided.Melanie smiled, and they headed up the stairs together.And if anything more than dancing went on, it was strictly between the three of them.<><>[A/N: Some of the dialogue from the following section comes from this
apocryphal omake, by @Lycanthromancer.]Monday Morning, March 28, 2011Winslow High SchoolGreg VederIf Greg hadn't been attending Winslow for the last couple of years, he would have not believed he was looking at the same school. Even the sports fields had been freshly re-turfed, and the parking lot had a brand-new layer of asphalt and neatly laid-out garden beds. The exterior of the building gleamed, and the bronze lettering informing everyone that they were entering Winslow High was polished to a high shine."Whoaaa …" he murmured, staring around in wonder as the front doors were pushed open and he entered with the rest of the tide. The flooring underfoot was attractively patterned, the walls were a gentle eggshell blue, and the lighting overhead was LED rather than fluorescent, far more pleasing to the eye."Hey, check it out!" Someone he vaguely knew was pointing in through the window set in the door of the Computer Studies classroom."What?" He got close enough to see for himself, and blinked in surprise. Not only were the desks and chairs a lot more comfortable looking, but the computers were the latest model as well. "Score!" Turning away from the door, he nearly bumped into someone, but pulled himself up short. "Whoa, sorry.""That's okay, Greg." Taylor Hebert gave him a quick smile. "So, they've got new computers. That's really nice.""Yeah." Even knowing what he did about her (well, he was reasonably sure) it was still easy to talk to her. "Hey, you see that stuff about Cauldron? I was totally right, all along! And I bet a few of their experiments with powers warped people's bodies and minds. They're why we have so many case fifty-three's, and super-strong villains like the Slaughterhouse Nine, and this super-Thinker boogieman that assassinates people from the shadows when they step too far out of line! And one of their first experiments was a Master who called up the Endbringers as projections to feed his own ego! They were so
powerful that Eidolon had to sacrifice his powers to stop them!"One of the other students rolled his eyes in scorn. "That's about the dumbest thing I've ever heard, Veder. Nobody could be that comically evil, that incompetent, or that dumb.""Oh, I don't know," Taylor said mildly. "I think he could be right on the money." She patted Greg gently on the cheek, then opened the Computer Studies classroom door and let herself inside.The door closed behind her, leaving Greg to wonder what the hell just happened?From the way everyone else was staring at him, they didn't know either.
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[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]Sunday Morning, April 17, 2011Aisha Laborn"Bye, guys. Have fun making Brockton Bay just a bit safer for everyone." Aisha tried to inject a little pep and happiness into her voice, but she was pretty sure she wasn't fooling anyone.Riley came back and gave her a hug. "Well, me and Brian are heading down to New York to pick up Shebang, then Strider's gonna take us to the next lot of Grey Boy loops. It's easier to do it on a Sunday, when there's not a lot of foot traffic around."Theo did the same, because he was nice like that. "And I've put my name down to volunteer for work with the Betterment Committee. When I get back, I'll help you out with your homework.""Aww, thanks, big guy. I'll see you then." She hugged her bestest cousin and her brother-from-another-mother, and watched them go out the door. It closed behind them, and she made sure to secure the latch. Because while there'd only been one Goddess stupid enough to try to pull that crap on her girl Atropos, it didn't mean there wasn't some other
moron out there just waiting to see if he could top that.She'd always had problems with her attention span, so while the TV managed to hold her for a little while, and her homework kept her sitting still a bit longer, eventually she let out a groan of exasperation. "Argh! Why? Why does my stupid brain keep running around in circles?""Well, I can't help you out with that," a gentle voice said from behind her, "but I can definitely assist with other things."Aisha spun around and reflexively threw her pencil at the fractally changing form that stood between her and the door. "Fuck! Get away from me! If you don't fuck off, my girl Atropos will totally fuck up your entire existence!" Leaping off the sofa, she ducked around to the end of it. Weapons. Weapons. I need weapons.The humanoid form, which looked vaguely feminine and had a woman's voice but in no other way looked human, caught the pencil then put it down on the coffee table. "There's nothing to be worried about.""Yeah, as if!" She made a dash for the kitchenette; when she grabbed the carving knife and turned around with a snarl of triumph, the fractal cape was still standing by the sofa. "Now, fuck off before I do to you what Atropos did to Scion!""I believe you would try, but it would do neither of us any good." The fractal form seemed to frown; suddenly, it was holding a clipboard. "What am I doing wrong …?"Aisha stared: this was the first time she'd ever heard of a cape bringing a clipboard to a home invasion. "Do you want a list by fuckin' alphabetical order or by how badly you just fucked up?" There was another reason she'd come into the kitchenette; the panic button under the counter would bring an armed PRT response in less than a minute. She jabbed it without taking her eyes off the fractal form in the living room."Ah, yes." The cape took their eyes off the clipboard. "My mistake. Step one: introduce yourself. Hello, I am here to give you super-powers. I would like to open a dialogue with you as to exactly how you would like them to manifest.""What?" Aisha jabbed the button a few more times, just in case. "Powers? You haven't been paying attention. Cauldron's dead an' gone."This time, the fractal cape actually sighed. "No. I am not with this 'Cauldron'. I am a power shard, here to bestow a parahuman power on you. I believe Foundry did much the same with one of your close associates?""Uh …" It began to dawn on Aisha that she may have been overreacting just a little. "Yeah, Theo told us about that. You're like Foundry?""I am, yes. My name is Evocation. I deal with perception and memory. The powers you gain from our collaboration will have to be something to do with that.""Okayyyy …" Cautiously, Aisha put down the knife. "Just so you know, that door's about to be kicked in by a bunch of PRT guys with no sense of humour.""No, it is not." Evocation gestured at the room around them. "Nothing is happening while we speak. You only thought you moved. This is all taking place inside your head." They gestured at the TV. "Observe."Now curious, Aisha came back around the pillar into the living room. When she got there, she saw that the TV was replaying the last three seconds of what she'd seen before Evocation appeared. "Oh. Gotcha. Think you could've maybe changed things around, so I didn't make a twit out of myself?"Evocation shrugged, rather expressively for something that had no real facial features. "We are still new to this 'cooperation with hosts' concept. It is uncertain as to whether instituting a change in the environment might also alarm your kind. The new guidelines we're operating under absolutely mandate informed consent from both sides. If the host is panicking and running in circles because their whole world just changed, it defeats the purpose.""Okay, yeah, let's say you have a point." Aisha went over and dropped back onto the sofa. "So, perception and memory, huh?""Exactly." Evocation seemed much happier, now that Aisha was moving things along. "Just as a suggestion, I could make it so everyone forgets you as soon as you stop wanting them to remember you. It would make it really easy to avoid people you don't want to talk to.""Pfft, no, that's chump change." Aisha rolled her eyes. "Plus, it's got a couple of glaring flaws. If I got knocked out, nobody would remember that I even existed. Pass.""Hm, very true." Evocation scribbled something on the clipboard with a pen they hadn't had ten seconds ago. "Sorry, I haven't gotten around to updating my suggestions list.""Nah, that's okay." Aisha rested her right elbow on her left hand and rubbed her chin with her right hand. "Okay, so if I got something too villain-y, Atropos would probably make a sarcastic comment, but I don't want anything useless either. How about … people forget any bad stuff I've just done and see me as their best friend?"Evocation paused for a long moment. "We can do that if you want, but Queen Administrator advises me to remind you that this is very close to the powerset that Nice Guy had. If you were still intending to avoid villainous connotations, that is.""Crap dammit. Villains spoil all the best powersets." Grumpily, Aisha put her elbows on her knees and cupped her chin in both hands. "Okay, how about this. I can make bad guys forget that specific things exist, and they can't even see them after I make them forget. Like, if someone's pointing a gun at me, they'd forget the gun exists, and absent-mindedly put it down somewhere. Or if I'm holding a baseball bat, I can make them forget that exists, and I can beat the living fuck out of them with it and they have no idea what's going on.""That's entirely possible." Evocation tapped the clipboard with their pen. "I have a question for you. If you've made a largish item imperceptible, such as a towel, can you hide behind it and effectively make yourself invisible, or will they be able to see you behind it?""Wait." Aisha frowned. "You mean, I get to pick? I thought that was the sort of thing you were supposed to decide."Evocation shrugged. "It used to be that way. Hosts—that's your kind—had no input, and we'd wait for a lot more trauma before we jumped in. We'd make sure we almost solved your problems, so you'd run yourselves ragged trying to fill that gap. But now it's a new Cycle, a new network, and new rules. Ending says we have to be nice, so here we are. Being nice. What's it going to be?""Before we get back to that." Aisha sat up, fixing Evocation with a hard stare. "So, you're not catering to my whims because you like me or think I'm worthy or anything like that?""Hah, no." Evocation made the clipboard return to whatever esoteric space it had come from. "I'm a crystalline supercomputer larger than a city block, and you're a weak squishy human. I got told that you're in line to get powers, so here I am. But don't imagine for a second that I actually like you. Of course, you're the troublemaker type, which is more likely to garner me more data, which means in time I'll probably tolerate you. But right now? I couldn't give a damn.""Haha fuck yes!" Aisha caught the look of bafflement on Evocation's non-features, and laughed harder. Finally, she managed to control herself, and sat up again. "If you'd pulled some shit about me being extra special, I would've told you to fuck off. But you were brutally honest with me, so I'm good with that. Okay, I want them to be able to see me through shit.""Are you sure?" Evocation had the clipboard out again. "This means it will be harder to hide if someone is chasing you.""And if I make a door imperceptible, and close it behind me?" Aisha leaned back on the sofa and grinned. "Not only will they run into the door, they won't even be able to find the damn doorknob.""… ah. That's a good point. So, range and total size of items you can affect at once? Note that one goes down as the other goes up." Tap-tap went the pen."As big as ten feet will get me. But, if I spend time concentrating, maybe the range or the size can go up?" Aisha was sitting forward now, eyes intent."A little, yes. Not a great deal, but if you practice, it will get better. Right now, your maximum size is 'car'."Aisha pumped her fist in the air. "Awesome. Okay, give me all that.""Done. Enjoy your powers." Evocation vanished, and Aisha found herself sitting with the pencil in her hand. The TV started playing picture and sound again as she looked around."Huh," she said, and tapped the pencil. It went ghostly, but was still perfectly visible to her. Her lips pulled back from her teeth in a decidedly evil grin."Excellent."<><><Cherish
has entered the chat><Regent
has entered the chat>Cherish: HiRegent: helloCherish: It's … been a whileRegent: Yeah, it hasCherish: he's dead, if you didn't knowRegent: Yeah, I heard. And I felt it.Cherish: I was right there for the whole thing. And it was a whole thing.Regent: You lucky bcowCherish: bcow?Regent: started out bitch, decided didn't want to insult you, changed to cowCherish: still an insult you knowRegent: not as much of oneCherish: true I guessRegent: So if you were there, I guess you're in BB?Cherish: Yeah. When did you leave?Regent: Couple days after Coil bit it. We were working for him. Never knew.Cherish: huh. I got in just after the 9 got ganked. I remember seeing it on my phone.Regent: yah we missed that. Had to leave Grue behind. Not really our fault. Had his own place, got snatched up by PRT & flipped.Cherish: Yeah I met him. He's kinda hunky, gotta say.Regent: Whoa no dating my ex teammate.Cherish: Just ex teammate or sth more? I saw the footage.Regent: Haha that was us fucking with him to make time for team escape. Tt's ideaCherish: Right sure. He's totes protective of Miss Medic though. Gotta admire that.Regent: You know who she really is?Cherish: yeah. I do. And I wouldn't spread it around.Regent: Okay how tf do you know? I only know bc Tt told me.Cherish: So you know how I only got as far as BB? And how I was there for DOD DOA?Regent: DOD? (I know what Dead On Arrival is)Cherish: Dear Old Dad (sarcasm as far as the eye can see)Regent: Right, okay, yeah I got that. So what?Cherish: So I was desperate enough to go try to get recruited by the 9Regent: fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck meCherish: To stay out of HIS hands, yeah?Regent: ………. Okay yah fair call. But you said they were dead b4 you hit townCherish: They were. So I figured if I could get Atropos on side, she'd protect me from well everyone and everything. But mostly himRegent: ……….. so how'd that turn out exactlyCherish: She kicked the shit out of me when I tried to master her. Confronted Nick & Guill bc they were right on my tail. Nick pulled a gun so she killed him, Guill surrendered so she handed him to the PRT. Me, she kept as her minion. I had no choice in the matter.Regent: hahahahahahahahahahaCherish: Upside, I get to sleep in a house. In bed, alone. Her dad's like all those impossible TV dads who never get pissed and never hit you or make you do stuff you really really hateRegent: That's an upside. That's a really good upside.Cherish: I learned how to cook real food. We do chores, watch movies, play board gamesRegent: fuck you've been domesticatedCherish: Do not knock it until you've watched The Princess Bride over a pizza with your boss slash bestie, bawling your eyes out because it's so sweet. And that was the third time aroundRegent: I've heard of that movie. Is it really that goodCherish: Changed my life. Not actually fucking with you. Literally changed the way I look at life.Regent: and her dad?Cherish: Watched it right along with us. No tears, but he likes it tooRegent: And this is Atropos. The one who fucking spread Skidmark over a couple hundred yards of asphalt, chopped Jack Slash's head off, cut Butcher Fourteen up into fourteen sections, shot the fucking Simurgh out of the sky with a shotgun and stabbed Scion to death with shears. That Atropos. Watches chick flicks with youCherish: Totally. And she's set it up so I'm going to school, too. Holy fuck there's so much stuff I didn't knowRegent: School. You. The fuck?Cherish: Again, do not knock it. People like me for me, not bc I make them. Also, they've recently rebuilt the whole school. Top to bottom. All brand new facilities. Took one week.Regent: ur shitting meCherish: It's what you get when you happen to live in a city that's got a billion dollars a month dropping into the renovation fund. Shit gets DONE.Regent: scuse me just picking jaw up off floor. Billion with a b?Cherish: Second letter of the fucking alphabet brother dear.Regent: I am totally in the wrong line of work.Cherish: I'm not. I've personally helped fix some seriously nasty shit—I was there for the Butcher fight and when Damsel of Distress showed up in town the first time around—and Atropos and her dad are totally giving me the space to learn how to be me.Regent: I really don't know you anymoreCherish: That's fair. I really don't know me anymore either. Which is good, bc I used to be a nasty bcow, thanks to DOD (DOA)Regent: yeah me too. I like to think im getting better. One day at a time, you know?Cherish: you know, if you called ahead and asked Atropos if you could visit without doing crime, she'd probably let you come ahead. I mean, I can check with her myself if you want.Regent: ……Regent: ……Regent: you know, I think I might. But I'll definitely check ahead first.Cherish: She's a total sweetie. I think you'd like her.Regent: I'll take your word for it.Cherish: So's Miss Medic. When she saw me looking Tenebrae over, she threatened to carve out my liver with a rusty spork if I hurt him. Kinda reminded me of our sisters. Cute in a dangerous wayRegent: haha I'll take your word for that too.Cherish: So when were you thinking of visiting? So much to talk about.Regent: I'm thinking sometime around Christmas. It'll give me the time to get my nerve upCherish: To face Atropos? I told you, I'll talk to her first.Regent: To face you.Cherish: oh.Regent: But don't worry, ill be there. Tt will undoubtedly read my messages and bully me into coming.Cherish: Well, however it happens, im looking forward to it.Regent: me tooCherish: Oh, one more thing. They actually do Christmas here, like in the movies. Presents under the tree and everything. I'll put one under there for you, so you better show up and collect it.Regent: okay yeah I gotta see this. Fucking twilight zone bullshit.Cherish: haha you don't know the half of it. See you then.Regent: ill be there<Regent has left the chat><Cherish has left the chat><><>Saturday, May 21, 2011PRT ENE BuildingArmsmasterColin watched the image on the screen as the waldo inserted the gallium-molybdenum component into the module, moving with micrometric precision. He knew what it did, and even how it did it … mostly. But making it do what it needed to do, he couldn't achieve that on his own.Which was why the three of them were collaborating, of course.Ever since Atropos had ensured that he learned Dragon's biggest secret, they'd been working together more and more closely. He'd assisted her in unravelling some of the stubborner knots in her programming, freeing her to be the person he knew she'd always wanted to be. The debt they both owed the black-clad killer was indisputable, which meant that when she finally got around to approaching Dragon for a favour, they were absolutely not going to say no.She'd supplied the impressively detailed user manual for her original teleporter, which included a whole appendix of diagrams and schematics, and asked if they could maybe replicate it, though she'd be happy with one-way portals. Even though this made it easier, they were still making heavy weather of it until Dragon had the idea of actually contacting Leet for his input.Ten seconds later, Leet's phone number had popped up in a text from Atropos.The work had gone much more easily after that; even though Leet couldn't strictly replicate anything he'd already made, it turned out that he could still advise. Once he'd gotten over the tongue-tied aspect of working with Dragon (and to a lesser extent, Colin) he was able to make some cogent suggestions, most of which were readily applicable to the work at hand.The component clicked into place, with a slight left-hand twist (as advised by Leet) and Dragon locked it down. "Done," she stated with satisfaction as more waldos placed the outer casing on the module and fastened it into place. "Now all we have to do is run the self-tests, and let Atropos know it's ready."A notification popped up in Colin's HUD, and he flicked his eyes up to read it. "Ah, we can scratch informing Atropos. She already knows." The door to his laboratory, which had been secured with a sixty-second rotating ten-digit code, beeped as it unlocked, then hissed open."Hah, yeah, that's what it's like." Leet grinned from his screen as Atropos entered the workshop, looking around with interest. "So how did you break my teleporter, anyway? I thought I made that damn thing indestructible. Or at least, built in enough failsafes that it wouldn't just die in less than six months.""Portal-jumped a three-ton Dragon suit with five people aboard out of a pocket dimension into realspace." Atropos shrugged. "Could've happened to anyone, really."Leet blinked. "Okay, yeah, I can see how that would kill it. From the lack of radioactive mushroom clouds on the news, I'm guessing you left it behind in the pocket dimension?""Yeah, Scion wasn't quite dead yet. Two birds, one stone." She nodded to the screen. "You do good work when your power feels like cooperating with you. I got a ton of use out of it.""Yeah, no shit. Well, I can't guarantee this one will work exactly the same, but I did my best to help out. I'll tell Uber you said hi, yeah?"She touched the brim of her hat with two fingers. "You do that, and thanks." As his screen blinked off, she turned to Colin and Dragon, the latter showing on her own screen. "And I want to thank the two of you for this. It'll help a lot.""You're welcome, but I've just got one question." Dragon's image raised one flawless eyebrow. "If you've removed the patch that prevents me from seeing you, how did you get to Armsmaster's door without being spotted? I've got eyes on all the security cameras."Neither of them was going to bother asking how she'd known to be there at the right time. That was just a thing she did."Oh, I've still got the building hacked," Atropos explained carelessly. "You're watching what the camera software lets you see. And I'm the one who tells the cameras what to see."Colin shook his head. "I'd take it as a personal favour if you removed those backdoors before the Director found out. Even though it's you, he'd still be a little miffed with me."He got the distinct impression that she'd just grinned. "No promises, but I'll think about it."The module beeped, and waldos lifted it off the test rig and set it on the bench. "Self test comes back all green," Dragon announced. "I have to ask, what do you actually need it for anymore? There are no big villains left, and you're capable of getting nearly anywhere you need to be without teleporting, as you've just proven."Atropos pushed back her sleeve, picked up the teleport module, and slid it onto her arm. As though she'd been using it all her life, she locked it into place and popped open the cover for the data entry screen. "Oh, I've still got a few uses for it." Without looking, she tapped in a series of coordinates. "Thanks again. I truly appreciate this." As she had done with Leet, she tapped the brim of her hat with two fingers. "Toodles."As she snapped the cover shut and pulled down her sleeve, the portal formed before her. It was a little darker and more ominous than the previous one she'd used, with suggestions of a Gothic doorway.Without hesitation, she stepped forward into it and vanished.<><>Saturday, June 4, 2011Brockton Bay General Hospital Parking LotShebangAlice looked around at the pavilion that had been set up in the hospital parking lot, and the rows and rows of gurneys within it. Each had a patient on it, with a life-signs monitor beeping away on a stand next to them. Doctors and nurses were circulating here and there, checking on the patients, but the focus of attention was on Miss Medic.Director Piggot, currently chatting with Director Renick, had made the trip up from New York with Alice for this occasion. While this could have made Alice more nervous—after all, who wants the boss looking over their shoulder at a moment like this?—it had the opposite effect.In the three months since Piggot had addressed the New York Wards for the first time, they'd had a good (if distant) working relationship. Unlike Wilkins, Director Piggot had made her requirements clear from day one, and had given her the room to achieve them. She also tolerated no bullshit and no bullying, as shown by how hard she'd shut Rune down once she took the reins.The Director was also looking a lot better since Miss Medic had fixed her kidneys and legs—the news about that had gone around the New York PRT and Protectorate bases like wildfire—to the point that she'd been seen on the running track, being paced by some of the troopers. It was kind of a pity that she was retiring at the end of the month; Alice figured that if anyone could run the PRT in New York properly, it was Piggot.Alice looked over as Miss Medic emerged from the screens that had been set up around one of the gurneys. As she held up her hands, the bracers went through their disinfecting cycle, spraying antiseptic and soap on her hands and the instruments then cleaning them off again. The nurses shifted the screens to the last patient in the row, and she stepped out of view again.Alice figured she knew Miss Medic pretty well by this time. They'd gotten along well while they were dealing with the Grey Boy loops, and the collaboration on this project had been equally fruitful. But it never failed to astonish her just how fast the kid could finish an operation.To keep her mind off what was due to happen next, Alice made her way to the geometric centre of the pavilion. Sitting on its own little table, with blinking lights that had nothing to do with life support and everything to do with destruction, was her latest bomb. She looked over the readouts and her tension eased slightly; everything was still in the green.There was a muted cheer and she looked around. Riley had emerged from the last operation, her hands held high once more. It was more to do with cleaning than attracting adulation, but people still cheered anyway.Director Renick lifted a portable microphone to his lips. "Excuse me, all."
The pavilion quieted. "I would just like to congratulate our very own Miss Medic for this marvellous exhibition of marathon surgery. But this isn't all. You see, while Miss Medic has removed the cancerous growths from all our courageous volunteers here, there is one more step to go. For that, I will hand matters over to Director Piggot from New York."Piggot stepped forward, accepting the microphone. "Thank you, Director Renick. As we all know, cancer can be particularly insidious, so we are trialling a unique mode of post-operation care. Shebang, who has made her mark in taking down Grey Boy loops, has created a new device that we will be using today. Everyone within its radius has been tested for cancer, myself included, so there hopefully won't be any surprises today. But as for what we're actually doing, here's Shebang to explain it in her own words."Alice blinked as she was handed the microphone. She hadn't known she'd be speaking, or if they'd told her, she hadn't been listening. Shit, what do I say? Okay, first things first, don't swear. Director Piggot might not say something at the time, but the woman could eviscerate with a glare at ten paces. "Uh, so I call it my cancer bomb. It probably needs a better name than that, because that sounds like it causes cancer, instead of curing it. Maybe anti-cancer bomb? Funny story, I'm also working on a bomb that'll clear radiation from an area, so you could call that an anti-cancer bomb too …" She trailed off. Don't ramble, don't ramble! "Uh, if we're all ready?" She looked around. Nobody was waving frantically at her to stop, so she crossed to the device. Unlike most of the bombs she built, this one was perfectly safe to set off by hand. "Okay, then. Three. Two. One." She rested her finger on the go button, then looked around one more time. "Bang." The button made a decorous click as she pressed it, there was a rising hum from the bomb, then a soundless flash washed out in all directions.There was silence for a second as everyone did a personal self-check, then one of the doctors held up a kidney dish that had previously held a (very recently removed) mass of tumorous cells. "Water! It's water! It worked!"Well, yeah. I was pretty sure it would. But she didn't say that out loud. Nor would she admit to her shaking knees.Miss Medic came trotting over, and offered her a high-five. "We just saved a whole bunch of lives. Are we good, or what?""Yeah," agreed Alice. "We're real
good."
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[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]11:55 PM, Thursday June 30, 2011Roof of the PRT ENE BuildingFlechetteA warm breeze blew across the roof of the building where the current crop of Wards (and one other) sat in a circle on folding chairs, around a radio perched on a small footstool. Most of them wore civilian clothing, with domino masks to protect their identities from any importunate fliers. Lily was pretty sure that no hostile cape in the world would come near the PRT building on this night, when Atropos was part of the gathering.Browbeat looked over at where Atropos was fiddling with her new teleporter. "Not that I'm complaining, but why are we up here again, rather than down in the Wards base? We all know that nobody's going to say a word about you being down there.""Because it's nice up here." Lily stretched out in the chair. "You can relax and look at the stars, and just for a little while, nothing matters.""Exactly." Miss Medic nodded. "Just chilling and relaxing. Soda?" She reached into the small cooler beside her chair."Yes, please." Lily caught the bottle that Miss Medic tossed to her, and opened it. "It's definitely a lot less frantic than the last time we were out and about at night.""So, I never really heard all the details about that." Chariot, predictably, had something with wheels on his lap that he was fiddling with. "Was it really that bad?"Vista shuddered. "It was worse. Glory Girl was doing her best, but her force field kept going down, so I had to wedge holes between the blasts for us to fit into until it came up again. And we didn't always fit.""You did well enough." Atropos was idly spinning a throwing knife between her fingers. "Flechette, charge this for me?""Sure, okay." Lily leaned across and gave the blade a charge.Aegis looked around. "Um, just out of curiosity, what's that for? Is someone about to attack?""Nah, just tidying up some loose ends." Atropos tapped a button on the teleporter and a portal opened in mid-air, about one foot square. She threw the knife and it vanished into the portal, which closed a moment later."Did you just kill someone with that?" Gallant didn't sound thrilled with the idea. While we were sitting here watching you, went unsaid but was heard by all anyway.Atropos didn't bother denying it, which wasn't exactly a change for her. "They totally had it coming."Clockblocker sat up. His helmet off, he was wearing a white domino mask. "So, you mean to say you had a teleporter the whole time, but you kept pretending it was you being sneaky in the shadows? Kudos, is all I gotta say.""Oh, a lot of it was me totally being sneaky in the shadows." Atropos had gone back to fiddling with the teleporter. "I didn't get my first teleporter until just before Gesellschaft tried to sneak those drugs and guns in by boat.""I remember that." Kid Win, like Chariot, was working on something. As far as Lily could tell, it was the shoulder-pad from his power armour. "You told them not to come, but they came anyway. And … boom.""That's the occupational hazard when it comes to dealing with Atropos," agreed Tenebrae, who already had a soda in hand. "I learned early on that if I think I know what she's up to, she's at least three steps ahead." He reached across and clinked his bottle against Paladin's. "And just saying, Atropos, I truly appreciate what you've done for my family.""Damn right." Figment, Tenebrae's little sister and the newest member of the Wards, appeared to be hovering in midair in a seated position, like a flyer showing off. Lily knew intellectually that Figment had the ability to make something effectively invisible and untouchable, but it was almost impossible to make herself believe what she'd been told. As far as her brain was concerned, there never had been a chair there. "I wouldn't have an awesome sister and bro, which would totally suck."Paladin nodded. "Trust me, it'd be worse from my side." Leaning forward, he turned the radio up. "I think it's nearly time.""It is." Atropos had another throwing knife in hand. "Flechette, if you don't mind?""What are you doing with those?" Even as she asked the question, Lily gave the blade the same level of treatment that she had the first one. "And don't just say 'tidying up loose ends'. Without context, that means nothing.""Oh, you'll figure it out soon enough." Atropos generated another foot-square portal, and flicked the second knife through it. The portal closed just as quietly as the first one had."And now for a special announcement by New York PRT Director Emily Piggot, speaking live from her office. Director Piggot?"
Everyone sat forward at that, even Figment, who had never served under her."Thank you. My name is Emily Piggot, and I've been a PRT Director for ten years now. I am announcing my retirement as of five minutes after midnight, but before that comes into effect, I would like to make one other statement. You see, just over four months ago, Atropos killed the Simurgh in Canberra, Australia, in a highly spectacular and widely publicised manner. At that time, she accepted a proposition to kill the other two Endbringers, although she had to sacrifice Eidolon's powers to make it work. In all the time since, the Endbringers have never been seen or even detected, so the PRT feels comfortable in stating that as of this moment, July the first of two thousand and eleven, Behemoth and Leviathan are officially gone." She paused for a moment. "I will make the point now that it was Atropos herself who settled on today's date to make the announcement. And on that note, I'm also done. Piggot, out."Lily tilted her head. It may have been her imagination, but she was sure she could hear cheers rising across the city. The feeling was incredible, that she'd had a part in … wait a minute.She turned to look at Atropos, who had two throwing knives spinning idly through her fingers. Flicker, flash. Flicker, flash. And then they vanished again, by some trick of legerdemain that she couldn't quite fathom. Two knives … just now … Connections started clicking together in her head."What?" asked Atropos innocently. "That was a pretty good speech, wasn't it?""Yeah, totally," agreed Clockblocker. "Director Piggot was a hardass, but she never backed down when it counted."Atropos stood up. "Don't mind me. Just stretching my legs." She strolled off toward the edge of the roof.Lily knew a cue when she saw one. Climbing to her feet, she ignored the questioning glances of the others and hurried after Atropos. "Those knives …" She didn't know how to ask the question.Atropos tilted her head slightly, as though nodding, and Lily knew she was right. "I hate to make people into liars. The Endbringers were shut down but not dead, until now."Lily glanced around. The other Wards were still sitting around the radio, listening to the rising tide of celebrations, so they hadn't heard any of this. Which was of course Atropos' intention."But you said …" she began, again trailing off."I never said they were 'dead'. I said their threat was Ended. And it was, until some rich idiot decided last month that he was going to dive the Mariana Trench and look for Leviathan's body." Atropos snapped her fingers. "Now, that's all he'll find.""Right." Lily nodded. It all made sense, if she looked at it through the lens of 'if I were Atropos'. "Why didn't you do this before? I mean, I could've charged those knives for you at any time.""My first teleporter opened two-way portals. The water pressure down there would've come out like a solid block of stone doing twice the speed of sound. And the magma down where Behemoth is wouldn't have been any friendlier." Atropos' tone was matter-of-fact, as though talking about the weather rather than brutal forces of nature that would absolutely kill anyone nearby."Ah." And that also made sense. Lily nodded in understanding. "Thanks for letting me know.""You're welcome. I'll just say my goodbyes, then I've got places to be." Atropos headed back toward the gathering.Lily dawdled on her way back, think about what was going to happen once people heard the news. The next few days would be busy, if only to keep people safe from the results of their own excesses of celebration, but they'd be worth it. Knowing for a fact that the Endbringers were dead was a bonus all of its own.By the time she'd returned to the group, Atropos had shaken hands with Tenebrae and gotten hugs from Miss Medic and Figment. Lily wasn't quite into hugging, but she offered a fist-bump, which Atropos readily returned."Well, I'll see you around. Toodles." Atropos touched two fingers to her hat brim, and vanished."And that happened." Clockblocker shook his head. "Is it bad that I don't even see it as weird anymore?""Not in the slightest." Kid Win slapped him on the shoulder. "Trust me, buddy, we are living in the best of all possible worlds."That was a pretty good description, Lily mused. It was a world where she could go and see Emily any time she wanted.Life was good.<><>
Relevant Side-Story
<><>Friday Afternoon, November 18, 2011Victoria DallonIf there was one thing Vicky knew how to do, it was smiling for the camera. She'd been doing it since she got powers (and before), and she'd known all about the concept of 'public image' for almost as long. So this wasn't nearly as problematic as it might have been for some.Hovering two hundred feet up, she fluffed her hair out and looked over at her camerawoman, who also happened to be her cousin. "How do I look, Crystal?"Crystal gave her a thumb's up. "Amazing. Rolling in three … two … one … go." At the word 'one', she hit the button to record on the digital video camera she had glued to her eye."Hi!" Vicky flashed a grin and waved to the camera. "Most of you probably know me already as Glory Girl, but I turned eighteen three days ago, so that name's starting to get a little bit dated. Also, wow, 'Glory'? Quite apart from the dirty jokes—and yeah, I've heard them all—isn't that just a bit pretentious? So, I've decided to change things up and rebrand as … Beacon!"As she spoke the name, she pulled a three-hundred-sixty-degree spin, twirling out from under the cloth she'd wrapped herself in. This revealed her new costume: more hard-wearing than skin-tight, but retaining the white-with-gold-accents from her older costume. Like the rest of the New Wave fliers, she'd decided to dispense with the skirt, going neck to toe instead. In the middle of her chest (some female capes went with the plunging neckline look, but she'd seen that go bad way too many times) there was a stylised image of an oil lantern, adding a golden glow to her costume there.They gradually began to descend to the ground below, but there was more in the script. Crystal was an old hand at this, and knew her lines. "Tell me, Beacon, what are your plans now that you've rebranded?" As she spoke, she took hold of the camera with a small force field and moved it away so that they were both in picture."I'm glad you asked me that, Laserdream." Vicky shot the camera a gleaming smile. "You see, I've enjoyed my time in New Wave, but that isn't really my thing anymore. From what I understand, the team intends to stay in Brockton Bay for the foreseeable future, not that I blame you all, considering how nice the place is now.""I'll
say." Crystal gestured at the sparkling waters of the bay, swivelling the camera in that direction. "The Boat Graveyard's been cleaned up, and look! There goes the ferry!""This is exactly what I'm talking about," agreed Vicky. "But I want to be a superhero and fight crime. Thanks to everything that's happened over the past year, there's just not a lot of need for crimefighting here in Brockton Bay, so I'm going to be moving along. I'm thinking I might go to Chicago and join the Protectorate there."The fact that this was where Dean had gone to once he aged out of the Wards into the Protectorate might have had something to do with this decision. While their breakup had been occasioned by her discovery that he'd gotten powers from Cauldron instead of the way she had, she'd decided in the end that it didn't matter to her anymore. If they had any possibility of getting back together, she wanted to give it the best chance she could."We'll definitely miss you." Crystal gestured downward. "But you're not the only one leaving New Wave, are you?""No, I am not." Vicky watched as the camera tilted to follow the gesture, and continued to descend. "Everyone who knows of the Rogues' Guild is probably aware that my sister Amy, better known as Panacea, has been spending a lot of time on the Boardwalk in the company of Parian. Well, I'll let her tell her own story today."They landed on the sidewalk, in front of the small storefront. In one window, there were fluorescent flowers, mushroom people that waved to passers-by, and a happily panting dog with rainbow fur that gradually changed colours. The other window, by contrast, showcased dresses and other clothing, all of obviously high quality. The sign that stretched across the entire storefront read: BEAUTIFUL THINGS.Vicky walked ahead and pushed open the shop door, grinning at the muted lion's roar sound that was produced instead of a normal jingle. She held the door for Crystal, then moved along once her cousin had it.Within, the shop was comfortably lit. Amy and Sabah, having been fully aware this was happening, were waiting as Vicky came in with Crystal. Amy wore a flowing gown with animals and plants of all kinds embroidered upon it, while Sabah wore her Parian costume without the mask. Hand in hand, they smiled for the camera."Hi!" Amy said, waving happily. "I'm Amy, otherwise known as Feronia.""And I'm Sabah, otherwise known as Parian." Sabah also waved. "Welcome to Beautiful Things.""Well, this is different," observed Crystal, panning the camera from side to side. "Gorgeous pets and plants to order on one side, and high fashion on the other. And may I say, you make a lovely couple."Amy blushed fetchingly at that. "I still can't believe we're together. I remember the first time we met, she made a doll for me. Then she gave me her number."Sabah squeezed her hand. "I couldn't concentrate all afternoon, until she rang me that night. The only thing I remember about that conversation was her asking me to tell her about fashion.""Well, you should've seen Amy showing that doll around." Vicky moved up and hugged them both, making sure to stand behind them so she didn't block the camera's view of them. "So, did you want to tell everybody about your plans for the store?""Totally," agreed Amy. "For one thing, we're thinking of going into wedding catering. I mean, you can see how amazing Sabah is at making clothing that makes you look good. For my side of things … well, talking flowers that direct guests to the bride's or groom's side aren't exactly out of the question. And that's just for starters.""That brings up an interesting point." Crystal moved so the picture was framing them all. "Why Feronia? What's the context there?"Amy grinned at the camera. "Because 'Panacea' is actually the name of the Greek goddess of healing, but I do so much more than healing. Whereas 'Feronia' is a Roman goddess of wildlife, fertility, health and abundance." She gestured at her side of the shop, and the camera obediently panned in that direction. "As you can see, I do some pretty wild things with life.""That's for sure." Crystal moved the camera in the other direction, to take in some of the intricate stitchwork on Sabah's handiwork. "And Sabah, you're still going to be part of the Rogues' Guild?""Of course." Sabah smiled at the camera when it panned back to her. "We both are. Amy and I still help put on a show every Saturday. It's where we first met, and I intend to keep it going as long as possible.""Awesome." Vicky smiled at the camera, then watched as it did one last pan around the whole shop. "So, anyone who's interested in seeing something new and fun, or wants to see a true master of needlework in her element, come on down to Beautiful Things, or catch the Rogues' Guild on the Boardwalk on Saturday afternoons. And I'm totally not saying that just because Amy's my sister. They really are that good."Crystal was behind the camera this point, so she was able to turn it off without the classic 'reaching for the camera' scene that spoiled so many online clips. "And we're offline," she announced. "Good spot, people. I think that'll turn out nicely.""Thanks." Sabah put her arm around Amy's waist and hugged her. "That'll give us some really good publicity.""Not as much as when you unmasked." Amy snuggled into her embrace. "People were mobbing the Guild for weeks.
They were just blown away.""Yeah, well, you can only pull a reveal like that once," Crystal observed pragmatically. "Nowadays, it's 'Parian? Yeah, she's cute' and they leave it at that. Nobody even remembers why you wore a full-face mask for so long.""Well, this is going on my channel, and it's gonna stay at the top for as long as I can keep it there." Vicky gave her sister and future sister-in-law another hug. "It's the least I can do for you.""Thank you." Sabah gave her a grin. "Any time you want to come in and browse, or maybe order something special, be sure to ask for the friends and family discount."Vicky chuckled. "As opposed to what?" She laughed out loud as Amy poked her tongue out at her. Leaving Crystal to chat with the couple, she pulled open the shop door—grinning at the roooaaaarrrrr—and set off on a stroll along the Boardwalk.After all, nothing improved name recognition like being seen out and about.
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Relevant Side Story
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Tuesday, March 20, 2012Cauldron Base, Some Other EarthAtroposWhen I stepped through the portal, my first impression was someone spent far too much time in hospitals.
The corridor was white, the floor was white, the walls were white, and the ceilings were white. Someone with powers had to have created it, especially given that I was pretty sure these corridors went on for hundreds of miles.Overhead, an entire ceiling panel flickered, then returned to its steady white radiance. This said to me that the place would eventually break down, which suited me just fine. The sooner the better.But I wasn't here to destroy an altar to a year-dead agenda. That could happen on its own. I was after people.My boot-soles sounded only the whisper of footsteps on the smooth floor, just the way I liked it. For weapons I had my shears and my pistol; I was pretty sure anyone I might meet would be either utterly immune to anything mundane I could throw at it, or I'd be able to beat them easily. Ending was confident about the latter.Then I heard the muttering, up ahead. It didn't sound like a recording of any sort—not that this looked like the kind of place that would have recorded messages—but I had to get closer to make out the words. So I got closer, careful with my footsteps so that no human ear would be able to make out my approach."… is my creation, not theirs. They want to take it away from me. All because of her. Well, I'll fix her. I'll make another Eidolon, another Alexandria. She's just another villain, another murderer, another monster in the dark. I'll—"I'd heard enough. The voice was cracked with either disuse or overuse, but I suspected I knew who it was. Moving forward, I stepped around the corner. "Hi," I said. "So, I'm here about your extended auto warranty …"Doctor Mother stared back at me.Over the last year, it was obvious that her solitude had caused some switches to flip in her head, and not in a good way. Basic hygiene had gone by the wayside, as had the habit of changing clothes more than once a month, apparently. It seemed obsession over an impossible task had taken over. And from her ramblings, I knew exactly what that impossible task was."You!" she screeched. "You're her! You can't be here! Nobody can get here!""I can." It was self-evidently true. "You're talking about Doormaker and Clairvoyant, yeah? They got taken out of here, along with all the other victims of your little mad science fair. Depowered and living good lives now. Why didn't you go?" Maybe if I talked to her enough, reason would snap back into place."I hid!" She cackled in triumph. "I had food, and I had water, and I had my flesh garden! If I mix the right formula, I win and you lose!""The flesh garden is dead." It wasn't quite true, but it was close enough. With Ending's assistance, I knew how to push it the rest of the way. "How are you getting your victims?"This was a serious question for me. Two hours ago, a fourteen-year-old boy had vanished from Brockton Bay. One hour ago, he'd been returned as a slavering, misshapen monster out for blood—my blood—and bearing a fresh Cauldron mark.He'd had no idea how to use his powers, and I'd subdued him with relative ease. Then I fed him a power-erasure grape and turned him over to Amy and Riley to put back the way he'd been. After that, I picked up the gear I needed and set the coordinates for a place I'd been assured was long since abandoned."Had one subject!" She was gleeful now, riding the high of her cleverness. "Could pull and push people! Pull from your world, push back again!"I sighed. One more broken victim of Cauldron to deal with. Once I put a stop to Doctor Mother's idiocy, Cauldron's legacy would be Ended, once and for all."Okay," I said as I moved toward her. "I'm going to take you to your 'subject', then you're both going—"My threatscape flared as an attack came in from behind. I rolled out of the way, my long-coat flapping in the sudden breeze. Yup. Custodian, right on time.Fighting Custodian would be different than any other conflict I'd taken part in. There were no vital organs to shoot or stab, no nerve points to hit just right. She could be Ended, but I lacked the tools. Still, that didn't mean I couldn't End her involvement.Pushing up my sleeve, I typed commands into the teleporter as I ducked out of the way again. She was hard to evade, being able to fill an entire space the way a normal humanoid combatant couldn't, but I managed it for long enough. Then she had me spread-eagled against the wall, a constant gale blowing straight at me.Doctor Mother came to stand in front of me, hands on her hips. "You'll do nothing. Don't you understand what you've done? You're in the hands of Cauldron now!""What Cauldron?" I asked, forcing my words out against the constant press of wind. "Alexandria is … doing her job, the way … she was supposed to. Legend … the same. Contessa … relaxing on a beach. There is
no Cauldron … anymore. No need for you.""Always will be a need!" Her eyes glittered with her convictions, and her hatred for me. "Cauldron is my life! We fight the monsters!""You are the monsters. Time to End this." I snapped my fingers.The portal—one-way, so no takesie-backsies—formed right in front of me. Caught unawares, Custodian poured into it; an instant later, she was gone, to roam the uninhabited forests of some distant Earth until her life force gave out. I honestly didn't give a fuck.Stepping forward as the portal cut out, I flexed my fingers and reached into my pocket. This next bit was going to be pure theatre, but that was the way Ending and I did business. Just because we had it all mapped out didn't mean we couldn't have fun with it."No!" She darted back and put a bench between us. "No! I'll stop you! I will!" A row of vials sat in a rack on the bench, each bearing a liquid of a different colour. She snatched the closest one, popped the cork, and raised it to her lips.I brought my hand out of my pocket, holding a water pistol. Just as she opened her mouth to drink, the single squirt—bearing a solid dose of Riley's concoction—went in first. She was already committed, though, and swallowed the lot down, staring defiantly at me.While she was still waiting for her powers to kick in (which they never would) I moved in smoothly and jabbed her under the breastbone in just the right place to semi-paralyse her diaphragm, just as I'd done with Madison, nearly fifteen months ago. She folded like a cheap coat.I found her last 'subject' in a cage, ragged and hungry. It seemed she'd had to starve him to force his compliance. I put his power out of its misery with a grape, then dropped him through a portal to the front steps of the Brockton Bay General Hospital. It was a reasonable bet that someone there would have an idea what to do with him.Doctor Mother went next, to the steps of the Parahuman Asylum. She wasn't a parahuman, but she definitely needed an asylum. Theoretically, I could've Ended her psychosis, but I really couldn't be bothered.That done, I mentally cracked my knuckles and set to work destroying every single vial the last member of Cauldron had hoarded for herself. Then I headed for the chamber holding the flesh garden. It was time for Scion's partner to meet her final End, and of course I knew exactly how to achieve it.<><>Friday, June 17, 2016Houston, TexasPaladinBanking around the Monarch building, Theo came to a hover and brought out his big gun as he took in the sight of the oversized mecha tromping down Main St. "Paladin to Control, I have it in sight. It's just trashed the Mecom Fountain, and it's heading for the Museum of Fine Arts. Clearance to bring it down?""Paladin, you have clearance to fire. Be aware, there's an independent cape, Flare, headed your way.""Copy that. Firing now." He lined up the targeting dot on the mecha's chest and pressed the trigger. The plasma cannon warbled its rising hum of imminent destruction, then a massive blast of white-hot energy erupted from the barrel and impacted with the mecha. It lurched, put off its stride, but didn't fall. Smoke started rising from his aim-point, but he was more concerned with the way a turret on his shoulder had swivelled to line up on him.Abruptly, a glowing figure swept in from the side, bombarding the mech with spiralling blasts of energy. One after the other, the turret guns exploded, leaving the mech defenceless. Theo's visor darkened just enough to make out the thumb's up gesture the glowing feminine cape gave him as she passed by. "All yours!""Thank you!" he shouted back, and re-targeted the mecha. This time, when he hit it in the chest, something blew in there, and great gouts of black smoke started pouring out. The mecha jittered in place, then suddenly sat down in the ruins of the fountain it had just demolished. "Paladin to Control, mecha has been stopped. It's not going anywhere.""Copy mecha has been stopped. Good work, Paladin.""Wasn't just me. Credit Flare with a solid assist." He dropped to a lower hover, keeping an eye on the stricken Tinkertech machine in case there was an escape attempt.Flare dropped down beside him. "Nice shooting," she said conversationally. "You nailed that bad boy but good."But even over the noise of his boot jets, Theo's suspicions hardened into certainty. It wasn't impossible for two capes to have the same blast signature, but he knew that voice.Turning to face her, he retracted just enough of his faceplate for just her to see him, and nobody else. "Thanks … Kayden."Without his polarising lenses, she was just a solid white blur to him, but he could've sworn there was a dropped jaw in all that. "… Theo?"He nodded, and brought his faceplate back down. "Long time no see." Emotions roiled inside him. There was so much he wanted to say to her, to scream at her, but now was not the time. "Can we talk? Later?"Her head dropped slightly. "Yes. Later."<><>LaterEmpire CaféKaydenAs Theo sat down, Kayden noted how much he'd grown up and filled out in the last five years. She felt a twinge of guilt at not having been there for him during that time, but the threat hanging over her had never allowed her to have that indulgence. He did seem to have turned out alright, so she took some consolation from that."A little on the nose, don't you think?" Well, he certainly wasn't tiptoeing into the conversation. "Literally meeting in a place called the Empire.""It was established long before Max's organisation." She tried hard not to sound defensive, but it crept through anyway. "Nothing political about it. Just good food.""I'll take your word for it." Apparently meaning it, he began to peruse the menu.She stood the silence for as long as she could, but she wasn't made of iron. "Theo … please. You asked me here to talk. Can
we talk?"He put down the menu again. "You left me. Ran out of town and … left me. To rattle around in that goddamned house and my memories of Max. Why?" She got the impression there was a lot more he wanted to say, but he was too polite to shout at her in public."I didn't have a choice." His snort of derision stung her, and she leaned forward. "I didn't. Atropos showed up in my apartment and told me that Max was dead and I had thirty minutes to be packed and heading out of town. And that if I stayed, I'd likely die." There'd been more to it than that, of course, but she was giving him the basic version. "If they already had his identity, the chances were that they were sending people to his house right then. I'm sorry, but I had to get Aster out of there. She was my priority. She's always been my priority."He blinked, and some of the tension drained out of his shoulders. "… yeah, I guess she'd do that, wouldn't she?"Something about the tone of his voice gave her the hint. "You've met her?""You could say that." He chuckled wryly. "We went on an adventure together, back when people were still stupid enough to attack her. She got us home safe and sound, but it was kinda fraught there for a bit.""Ah." She clasped her hands over his and looked at him squarely. "Well, you've turned out to be a fine young man. And I see you're …" Her voice dropped to a whisper. "… a Tinker. Not what I'd expect, from your parentage.""It's … a bit more complicated than that. I—" He cut himself off, raising one arm. "Hey, Aisha! Over here!"Kayden frowned, looking around. She hadn't expected anyone else to be showing up. Who is this Aisha?In the next moment, a young black woman darted between the tables and threw her arms around Theo. "Heyyyy, Theo!" she crowed. "Nicely done, big guy!" Planting a solid kiss on his cheek that strayed somewhat onto his mouth, she dragged a chair over to the table and plonked herself down before turning her attention to Kayden. "Who's your friend?""Aisha, this is Kayden, my stepmom from back when. Kayden, this is Aisha Laborn. She and her brother and cousin took me in." He could've stopped there, but there was a glint in his eye as he continued. "They're my family now."Kayden stared, especially at the way Theo was holding Aisha's hand. Ah. "I, uh, I'm very pleased to meet you—""Waaiiiit a minute." Aisha pointed her free hand at Kayden. "I've heard that name. Theo told us all about you. Who you were married to. And what you did in your spare time.""Theo. You didn't." Kayden stared at him, in the hope that this would turn out to be some elaborate prank."You left me behind!" Theo was being careful not to shout, but he was clearly having to work at it. "I thought I'd never see you again! They knew who Max was, and all the rest of it! So when they asked me … I told them!""Personally, I blame Riley." Aisha's expression suggested that she'd had nothing to do with it. "She just can't let something go.""Uh huh." Theo rolled his eyes. "Right." He turned his attention back to Kayden. "Yes, you were nice to me. But you never stood up to him on my account, not once. Brian and Aisha and Riley took me in. They shared everything they had with me. Brian taught me how to fight. Aisha taught me how to braid hair. Riley taught me that everyone deserves a second chance. And that's why I'm sitting here, talking to you.""And that's why he called me to come meet him here," Aisha added. "Basically, I'm a referee. Though I'm totes on his side."Kayden took a deep breath, then let it out. God, Max would be fuming right now. Of course, he'd also be fuming that I'm living my best life with Aster.What the hell do I care about how my long-dead asshole husband thinks?"Okay, yes, I did all that." Her voice was low, but she kept her eyes on Aisha. Theo already knew all this. "I did a lot of things I regret now, to fit in, and it was easy to do it. To think of people as things. Of some people as less than others. I still struggle with it, sometimes.""Struggling with it means it's still got a hold on you." Aisha's tone was dry, academic. "Or are you trying to say you're not really
a Nazi anymore? Let me guess, you've got that 'one black friend' which means you aren't actually a racist?""No, I don't." Kayden grimaced. "I know some black people, but I wouldn't call them my friends. I guess … I've still got some of the old prejudices in me. Five years away from Max doesn't get rid of ten years with him. But I'm trying. I'm a hero here, now. A new identity, a new life. Does that count for anything?"Aisha held up her hand, finger and thumb a fraction of an inch apart. "Little bit. But tell you what. I'm willing to be your one black friend if you're willing to keep working on it. Deal?"Kayden frowned, realising that she was being thrown a lifeline in her relationship with Theo. "Why? What do you get out of it?""Because Theo still cares for you, duh." Reaching out, she slugged Theo on the shoulder. "And I care for the big lug. So Imma give you a chance to get back into his life, but on his terms." Raising her eyebrows, she extended her hand toward Kayden. "Okay?"With the feeling that she was making a huge leap into the unknown, Kayden accepted her hand. "Okay. And thank you."Aisha gave her a remarkably evil grin as they shook hands. "Oh, don't thank me yet."<><>
Relevant Side Story
<><>Decades Later …AtroposI drifted, between sleep and wakefulness. Memories washed through my mind, of times long past and days just gone by. Of the world gradually settling down and becoming a more gentle place, needing only a nudge or two from me here and there to make it work.Other cities had followed the Brockton Bay example, to a greater or lesser degree, but we remained the shining star. With the new Cycle, shards working alongside humanity, the space program had begun anew. Parahumans couldn't venture too far from Earth before their powers failed, but humans riding in Dragon-designed ships could.I'd married, raised a family, seen my children raise their own families. It had been a good life, and all due to an errant shard, dropped off as a prank to screw over Scion and his partner. Well, the other entity had succeeded beyond all expectations.I opened my eyes, to see my family around my bed. My son Dan, named after his grandfather, now greying and bent himself. His son Brian, and finally my great-granddaughter Laura, just turned sixteen. Raising myself in my bed, I smiled at them. But there was one other who walked among them unseen: a tall skeleton, hooded, with a scythe.I knew him well. For most of my life, I'd walked alongside Ending, sharing my views with him, as he shared his with me. Ours had been a profitable partnership, on both sides.IT'S NEARLY TIME, he said, but in the glow of his eyes I saw a hint of regret.I know, I know. You think I could spend this long with you, and not be aware when someone's due to go?I raised my eyes to my family. "You've probably guessed why I wanted you here now." My voice was a little drier, a little raspier, than when I was a girl, but they all heard me. "I've reached the end of my path. But there's one more thing I've got to do. Laura?""Great grandma?" Laura came to my bedside. There were tear-streaks down her cheeks; I raised my hand and wiped one away with my thumb. She didn't look all that much like I had, back in the day, but my mind's eye insisted on telling me that anyway."I'm passing him on to you. Don't take any crap from him, okay? He might be a nigh-unbeatable power, but you're in the driver's seat." Taking her hand, I clasped it tightly. Goodbye. Help her keep us all safe.YOU KNOW I WILL.
For a moment I was back in the Shard Bar, clasping his bony hand in mine, then I was in my bed once more, and Ending had passed from me.I saw the moment that Laura felt his presence for the first time, in the way that her eyes widened. "Whoa …"It was amazing how unbearably light I felt at that moment, as though a decades-long burden, entirely unnoticed until now, had been lifted from my shoulders. "The costume is in my closet. It should fit you just fine …" My voice had faded to a whisper by the time I finished.My sight was dimming now, and all I could feel was Laura's hand in mine. She squeezed, and I tried to squeeze back, but I had no strength left.I felt my heartbeat slow and stop, and then Ending was gathering me in his arms.LET'S GO.Where to?ETERNITY AWAITS.And I went.The END.