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A Darker Path [Worm Fanfic]
- Thread starter Ack
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Can we dial back the ITG mode just a little, please?
Yes, governments and courts have a distressing habit of being ignorant at best and corrupt at worst.
But here's the thing. It's better to spend time making it not worth their while to be corrupt rather than tear down the whole system and start fresh.
This is because while a corrupt system is bad, it's better than no system at all. When there is zero governmental oversight, bullies band together and rise to the top, and there are no rules to hold them in check.
Every single person who dreams of overthrowing everything that is bad about government assumes they'll have some capability of installing the system they think is worthwhile.
They won't. Mob rule will (at best) take the nascent system and twist it to the benefit of the rulers over the ruled. And at worst, trample it underfoot.
The most efficient, fairest and most even-handed government consists of one person, on their own, deciding their own fate and nobody else's.
But we don't have 'one man'. We have literally hundreds of thousands in any given city.
Without the rules already in place, and the infrastructure to enforce said rules, innocents would die or be brutalised, en masse.
So, no. Violent overthrow is never the answer.
seeing_octarine
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Precision violence directed towards out of control tyrants can definitely be the answer. Especially if the question is Earth Bet.
Please, please tell me you've heard of this fun little meme.
Ravioli, Ravioli, is now just drolleroli.
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Humorous Tart
I trust you know where the happy button is?
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Great chapter! I have to say, I would have preferred for Taylor to just go public with the whole Canary thing and not even bother with the threat.
edale
Versed in the lewd.
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The US does not have perverting or interfering with the course of justice laws. Those are all based on old English Common Law.
The closest analog in the US is Obstruction of Justice.
Erm...Lily's powers don't work like that in canon. Anything the active part of her power touches is basically disintegrated. She can't fuse materials together with her powers like Shadow Stalker can; and in that chain/boots bit if the power was on the chain, se'd basically slice herself in half as soon as she stood on it, and if the power was in her boots, she'd sever the wire and fall between the buildings.
Easier to just have some tinkertech anchor for the end of the chain (with the added benefit of being able to unhook it from the other end, leaving no damage to the building's facade, as opposed to what you have that leaves 3 holes in 2 buildings), and again tinkertech in the boots/chain to facilitate her crossing like that.
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I'll have to rephrase the judge bit.
However, as for the rest:
Sentinel 9.2 said:
(Bolding is mine).
Part Thirty-Five: Stepping Things Up
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A Darker Path
Part Thirty-Five: Stepping Things Up
[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.
End of Part Thirty-Five
Part Thirty-Five: Stepping Things Up
[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.
End of Part Thirty-Five
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Bastard Son: "What is that sudden sense of foreboding?"
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Lovely chapter! Thanks!
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Bastard Son: "And why can I hear Boss Music?"
Part Thirty-Six: The Heat is On
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A Darker Path
Part Thirty-Six: The Heat Is On
[A/N 1: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]
[A/N 2: Last chapter for the next couple of weeks. You know how it goes.]
[A/N 3: 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 Anders
I 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.
Danny
The 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."
Taylor
Cherie 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 Ravager
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 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.
►BigMouthFish
Replied 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.
►BrickFrog
Replied On Jan 14th 2011:
Hahahaha WHAT?
►Sikan
Replied 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.
►TwoFacedCat
Replied 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).
End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ... 17, 18, 19
►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.
►EdBaccarat
Replied 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.
►EdBaccarat
Replied On Jan 14th 2011:
Glad you got permission from Atropos, MP. We wouldn't want her cheesed off with you. :D
►FauxDemon
Replied 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
►hjcallipygian
Replied 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.
►Tangle
Replied 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!
►BattleLoaf
Replied 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.
End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4 ... 17, 18, 19
(Showing page 3 of 19)
►TwoFacedCat
Replied 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_Flower
Replied 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.
►FroggyMojo
Replied On Jan 14th 2011:
Arrogance combined with power both para and otherwise can cause any motherfucker to become pants on head stupid.
►AntAuthor
Replied 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*
►AntAuthor
Replied 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*.
►TwoFacedCat
Replied 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.
►AntAuthor
Replied 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.
►DoctorHooTheOwl
Replied 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.
End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 ... 17, 18, 19
(Showing page 4 of 19)
►IWarnedYou
Replied 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.
►UnconcernedFox
Replied On Jan 14th 2011:
*lugs another barrel of popcorn in, and starts the footage running again*
►Atrim
Replied 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."
►NinetyNineShadows
Replied 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.
►Horsefish
Replied On Jan 14th 2011:
Hey, anybody else feel like pasta? I suddenly have a hankering. And some grana padano in the fridge...
►MostlyInsaneWriter
Replied 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.
►KeijiAsuka
Replied 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.
►TwoFacedCat
Replied On Jan 14th 2011:
Dude, real rabbits can bite you through the hand. Never underestimate something just because it's cute.
End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 ... 17, 18, 19
(Showing page 5 of 19)
►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?
►BigTopper
Replied 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.
►TotallyMads
Replied On Jan 14th 2011:
@TwoFacedCat - Please stop with the butchering of the language.
Atropos will legitimately defend grammar. With lethal force.
►TwoFacedCat
Replied On Jan 14th 2011:
Are you sure? I mean she's friends with GTA, and I've seen some of her posts...
►BigTopper
Replied On Jan 14th 2011:
After her non-lethal performance against Ravioli, we now know that lethal force is her being *merciful*.
►EdBaccarat
Replied On Jan 14th 2011:
And now, we know Ravioli's first name is Dee. [long pause] Short for Boy-Ar... ;)
►OtakuAnonymous
Replied 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...
►EdBaccarat
Replied 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.
►OtakuAnonymous
Replied 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.
►EdBaccarat
Replied On Jan 14th 2011:
I wonder what else they'll get get her on?
Impersonation of a can of pasta?
End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 ... 17, 18, 19
PRIVATE MESSAGE
To: Atropos
From: TheRealPanacea
Subject: 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
End of Part Thirty-Six
Part Thirty-Six: The Heat Is On
[A/N 1: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]
[A/N 2: Last chapter for the next couple of weeks. You know how it goes.]
[A/N 3: 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 Anders
I 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.
<><>
Danny
The 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."
<><>
Taylor
Cherie 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 Ravager
In: Boards ► Brockton Bay ► New Capes ► Atropos
Atropos (Original Poster) (
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.
►BigMouthFish
Replied 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.
►BrickFrog
Replied On Jan 14th 2011:
Hahahaha WHAT?
►Sikan
Replied 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.
►TwoFacedCat
Replied 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) (
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).
(Showing page 2 of 19)►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.
►EdBaccarat
Replied 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) (
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) (
Replied On Jan 14th 2011:
@Mouse_Protector - Farfalle-ing instructions, sure! And you're welcome.
►EdBaccarat
Replied On Jan 14th 2011:
Glad you got permission from Atropos, MP. We wouldn't want her cheesed off with you. :D
►FauxDemon
Replied 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
►hjcallipygian
Replied 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.
►Tangle
Replied 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!
►BattleLoaf
Replied 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.
(Showing page 3 of 19)
►TwoFacedCat
Replied 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_Flower
Replied 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.
►FroggyMojo
Replied On Jan 14th 2011:
Arrogance combined with power both para and otherwise can cause any motherfucker to become pants on head stupid.
►AntAuthor
Replied 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*
►AntAuthor
Replied 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*.
►TwoFacedCat
Replied 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.
►AntAuthor
Replied 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.
►DoctorHooTheOwl
Replied 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.
►IWarnedYou
Replied 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.
►UnconcernedFox
Replied On Jan 14th 2011:
*lugs another barrel of popcorn in, and starts the footage running again*
►Atrim
Replied 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."
►NinetyNineShadows
Replied 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.
►Horsefish
Replied On Jan 14th 2011:
Hey, anybody else feel like pasta? I suddenly have a hankering. And some grana padano in the fridge...
►MostlyInsaneWriter
Replied 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.
►KeijiAsuka
Replied 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.
►TwoFacedCat
Replied On Jan 14th 2011:
Dude, real rabbits can bite you through the hand. Never underestimate something just because it's cute.
►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?
►BigTopper
Replied 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.
►TotallyMads
Replied On Jan 14th 2011:
@TwoFacedCat - Please stop with the butchering of the language.
Atropos will legitimately defend grammar. With lethal force.
►TwoFacedCat
Replied On Jan 14th 2011:
Are you sure? I mean she's friends with GTA, and I've seen some of her posts...
►BigTopper
Replied On Jan 14th 2011:
After her non-lethal performance against Ravioli, we now know that lethal force is her being *merciful*.
►EdBaccarat
Replied On Jan 14th 2011:
And now, we know Ravioli's first name is Dee. [long pause] Short for Boy-Ar... ;)
►OtakuAnonymous
Replied 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...
►EdBaccarat
Replied 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.
►OtakuAnonymous
Replied 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.
►EdBaccarat
Replied On Jan 14th 2011:
I wonder what else they'll get get her on?
Impersonation of a can of pasta?
■
PRIVATE MESSAGE
To: Atropos
From: TheRealPanacea
Subject: 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
■
End of Part Thirty-Six
Last edited:
GladiusLucix
Versed in the lewd.
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So, Bastard Son is planning to force some people to be drug mules. When Taylor has both Riley and Amy that she can borrow to get the drugs out of the innocents, not that he knows that.
Or just kill the people that are riding herd on the innocents, and drop the victims off at a hospital until Amy gets there.
I assume Bastard Son is at least a little brighter than I'm making him out to be, but I'm going to predict that he dies from something latex ending up somewhere unpleasant, such as a condom full of drugs lodged in his windpipe.
EDIT: Imp'd by the new chapter, because I forgot to refresh.
edale
Versed in the lewd.
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SailorOfMyVessel
Writer of plot, with some Plot for pleasure.
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Atropos: "I'll warn you before you go too far"
Lovely chapters as always, Ack!
Lovely chapters as always, Ack!
edale
Versed in the lewd.
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Amy has always, like her biological father, been a person who set strict rules and limits on herself. "If I step past this line, then I forfeit my humanity." The problem is, she set these limits with a warped worldview while under MANY mistaken assumptions.
It seems Amy has realized at least part of the problem, knows she has to change her rules and limits to fit the real world... And doesn't fully trust herself to set those new limits. So she's seeking aid from the one that helped her see the problem to begin with, who also has full knowledge of what she's really capable of.
In a way... This almost mirrors Fortuna realizing she couldn't actually decide things, and handing over control of Cauldron to Dr. Mother. Thankfully, Taylor's a bit smarter and wiser than the woman from a literal Bronze Age village.
It seems Amy has realized at least part of the problem, knows she has to change her rules and limits to fit the real world... And doesn't fully trust herself to set those new limits. So she's seeking aid from the one that helped her see the problem to begin with, who also has full knowledge of what she's really capable of.
In a way... This almost mirrors Fortuna realizing she couldn't actually decide things, and handing over control of Cauldron to Dr. Mother. Thankfully, Taylor's a bit smarter and wiser than the woman from a literal Bronze Age village.
silentorphan
Versed in the lewd.
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I wonder if the Elite higher-ups have re-assessed Bastard Son from "maybe" to "definitely" a write-off after such a public warning from Atropos. It would be amusing if they're already planning his replacement even though he's still alive for the moment.
MonkeyNinja d'PirateRobot
I am INVINCIBLE... and a loony!
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No, they didn't. He'd have accomplished all of his goals by a far easier path had he joined the Wards if he made taking care of Aisha a priority requirement for that.
Yes. So much yes. This chapter had so much self-wanking that I just skimmed the latter half. It's great to love your own characters, but this was excessive.
Humorous Tart
I trust you know where the happy button is?
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Thanks!
Ack
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Regarding Grue:
Why Didn't Brian Join the Wards?
Source: Wildbow.
As for the PHO section, most of that was literally derived from comments by readers on Spacebattles. I literally only wrote (checks notes) the sections by Atropos (and not all of those), Bagrat, UnconcernedFox, Reave, the Darwin Award Committee, Aisha, and Brickfrog. Everything else was contributed by the people on SB.
So let's ease back on the "self-wanking" thing a bit, okay? (Yes, it was a bit long. I made a note to that effect. It'll be shorter next time).
Nope. She brought it all on herself.
MonkeyNinja d'PirateRobot
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Whether you wrote it or not, you chose to include all that fawning praise for your character's unimpeachable awesomeness into your story. So yes, it IS in fact on you no matter who put the words down first. It's not a good look, and wastes a ton of page-space for minimal actual story value. We get it; Atropos is wonderful and utterly unstoppable and funny and perfect in every way, but repeating that for page after page doesn't progress the story. It just reiterates what you've shown in every prior PHO segment but turned up to 11.
Vanbers
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...Did you miss the part where they stated (Both in an A/N and the very post you're replying to) that they're aware it went on too long, and intend to not have it be like that in the future?
Because you're just repeating yourself and complaining about a problem that is already known, ACKnowledged, and addressed.
It's one thing to point out a flaw or make a criticism, it's another thing entirely to respond to a post pointing out awareness of the flaw that others pointed out, acknowledging the flaw, and saying that they intend to not make that mistake again, with a post that just repeats pointing out the flaw and how bad it is and how it's all their fault for making it.
MonkeyNinja d'PirateRobot
I am INVINCIBLE... and a loony!
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Saying "I know this is bad, but I'm doing it anyway" doesn't excuse media, even free media, from criticism. In fact, it invites it since the creator intentionally CHOSE to do something they know is probably bad. Movies and TV of late do this all the time, thinking that tongue-in-cheek acknowledging that their plots or characters are stupid as part of the story makes it all OK, but it doesn't. It's just apriori excuses and should still be called out for what it is.
The Secretary
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Have you considered that writing is hard, the comments are realistic, and people can improve? Also like. You're not exactly making yourself to be a kind person to take advice from here.
MonkeyNinja d'PirateRobot
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Ack is one of the most prolific writers in fanfiction. He knows what he's doing, and if he writes something that he knows is a mistake before he posts it, it's on purpose.
Ack
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I added it in because readers literally put posts on SB saying things like this.
I've done a 5-page PHO post before, but that was awhile ago. I'd already decided to cut this one off at 5, even if there were more comments.
The thing about doing a PHO segment is that you can't just ... stop. You have to a) stop where a 10-post page stops, and b) leave it on a high note.
I figured this one was borderline, but just good enough to be worthwhile leaving the various posts in. The praise for the PHO segment (and the squees of those whose offerings I included) were nice to have, but here's the thing:
PHO segments are going to be a part of this fic, going forward.
As such, I will be including reader input, because why not?
Longer PHO segments can work, once in a while (and there was enough different discussion this time around to make it interesting), but for the most part I'll be keeping them to 1 or 2 pages.
I get it that you don't like reading PHO segments about one character, over and over ... but it's literally a thread about that character. Also, I try to throw in little interesting snippets, like how Atropos has actually been in Reave's office while he was out.
Bottom line? I'm not going to change the way I'm doing anything because of your complaint. What I'm going to do is what I was already going to do.
Read my fic, or not, as you see fit. I honestly don't care.
Okay? Okay. Done.
MonkeyNinja d'PirateRobot
I am INVINCIBLE... and a loony!
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That's a very long way of saying, "Yes, I agree with you. I knew what I was doing, knew it wasn't ideal, and chose to do it anyway." I never once asked you to change your story. I simply told you that I didn't like that part of it and why, which is part of the function of forum pages like this one.
But I think that trying to blame readers for it is in poor taste. If a reader tells you to put XYZ into your story and you don't agree, I imagine you, like most if not all authors, can, will, and do ignore them or tell them to get stuffed. Like you did here to me because you thought I was telling you to change something, which, again, I wasn't. Just because readers post something is not a reason to include it, and as it's your story, completely under your control, pointing at them and saying "It's their fault" when someone complains is cheesy. You're the author. You decide what does and doesn't go into your story, as you so vehemently pointed out in this very post, and therefore YOU are the one responsible, not the readers. You can (and should) credit them when someone likes something you included, but blaming them when someone doesn't is not how it works. Yet twice on this topic alone that's precisely what you did.
That's all I have to say on this topic, because as someone said it's getting repetitive.