A Darker Path [Worm Fanfic]

[HeyaUser]

goblin gon be super dead

 

[Ack]

Uhh..... why wouldn't nilbog just unleash everything now that he has been threatened?

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If he was about to, she would've brought in both viruses and killed him before he even knew he was in trouble.

 

[Sypho.uad]

If he was about to, she would've brought in both viruses and killed him before he even knew he was in trouble.

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Ahh. Understandable. Have a nice day.

 

[MonkeyNinja d'PirateRobot]

But you're the only one having a problem with this.

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Alternatively, I'm the first to bring it up. Either way, that doesn't negate the issue.

Now, I'm not going to rewrite the chapter just because you don't like it.

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Never asked you to. But the function of this kind of board is feedback, so I provided it. What you do about it, if anything, is entirely up to you. You don't complain when the feedback comprises mostly praise, so why are you taking an issue with it when it's more critical? I've given plenty of positive feedback to this story. Only of late has it turned more negative. Maybe that is for a reason?

You have a long history of doing this with my fics.

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Yes. Because your fics all seem to follow the same pattern. A cool idea drawn out far past the point of diminishing returns, where you have to resort to more and more convoluted means to keep them going.

Neither PtV, nor PtE, give any enhanced physical capabilities. They simply let the user know how they need to move to achieve their objective.

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Of course they do. Or at least the latter does. Lazy, bullied Taylor absolutely would NOT be able to do some of the athletic shit she's been doing, particularly against the Nine, without aid from her power. She simply didn't have the physical capabilities to do those things. I don't care how much skill her power confers on her; her muscles wouldn't sustain what she was asking of them. I suspect the same with PtV, but we only saw that active once when Contessa was a child, then the story jumped to her adult capabilities. She could've been working out diligently for all that time. Taylor, though, we KNOW did not do so.

 

[SamueLewis]

Uhh..... why wouldn't nilbog just unleash everything now that he has been threatened?

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Because he was just threatened by hyper competent assassin that invaded his kingdom, twice. He is going to fortify his position and keep all heavy hitters close, not send them out to weaken his defence.

 

[MonkeyNinja d'PirateRobot]

Because he was just threatened by hyper competent assassin that invaded his kingdom, twice. He is going to fortify his position and keep all heavy hitters close, not send them out to weaken his defence.

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Also, other than what he personally saw, he probably has no idea who she is. He doesn't exactly have TV or internet, so he doesn't know about the Nine, Simurgh, Butcher, etc. To him, she's an arrogant rando who, while dangerous to his minions on an individual basis, he did drive away twice within minutes.

 

[Lictre]

Also, other than what he personally saw, he probably has no idea who she is. He doesn't exactly have TV or internet, so he doesn't know about the Nine, Simurgh, Butcher, etc. To him, she's an arrogant rando who, while dangerous to his minions on an individual basis, he did drive away twice within minutes.

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She's just engaged his delusions of fantasy royalty, and given him a full day to pull all his forces together which will incidentally make sure that the first viral contagion hits practically all his troops/minions/toys and such.

When she comes back in a day, I'd guess that she's going to want what wind there may be coming from behind her, so that the second viral agent will be spreading before her, even as she engages her next target.

 

[edale]

Of course they do. Or at least the latter does. Lazy, bullied Taylor absolutely would NOT be able to do some of the athletic shit she's been doing, particularly against the Nine, without aid from her power. She simply didn't have the physical capabilities to do those things. I don't care how much skill her power confers on her; her muscles wouldn't sustain what she was asking of them. I suspect the same with PtV, but we only saw that active once when Contessa was a child, then the story jumped to her adult capabilities. She could've been working out diligently for all that time. Taylor, though, we KNOW did not do so.

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...You do know Combat Thinkers are a thing, right? That it's canon to Worm that Powers with a purely mental aspect can allow a completely untrained person to fight at cape levels?

Hell, Bastard Son's whole thing is granting that ability to others; He can take random people, and grant them supreme skill with a weapon. The end result, A single overweight out of shape nobody capable of holding off a weaker team of capes solo. No enhanced physical abilities, just the knowledge and skill to do what they do.

There seems to be one bit about the whole thing that you're not getting... That Combat Thinker powers eliminate the need for muscle memory. That's a bigger game changer than you'd think.

 

[Requiem_Jeer]

But you're the only one having a problem with this.

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Correction: I also have a problem with the ridiculous 'luck control' power, I just know better than to try and criticize you on this point, because this is one of your stomp fics, like One More Trigger (that was the one where Danny, Alan, and Madison's dad were able to paintball dad super-competence into three teenage girls, right?), Or Earning Her Stripes, Or that one with the actual luck power whose name I can't remember.

The point is the spectacle about how you set up antagonists like nine pins and watch them fall down, not to see actually gripping conflict where the outcome is in doubt.

Now, if the power was more clearly nervous system control-oriented, like a semi-automatic Regent, I'd have zero problem. But that is not apparent, and probably isn't the case. But I know better than to try and get into this with you. I just want to be clear that this point where the only guy talking is the only one who thinks this way is dead wrong.

 

[Simonbob]

Alternatively, I'm the first to bring it up. Either way, that doesn't negate the issue.

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Generally, I agree.

I have stopped reading some of Ack's fics, on that basis.


But, I don't mind a bit of this kinda thing.

 

[Highlord]

It's getting rather spacepedant in here with all the "constructive criticism" going on.

 

[Ack]

Of course they do. Or at least the latter does. Lazy, bullied Taylor absolutely would NOT be able to do some of the athletic shit she's been doing, particularly against the Nine, without aid from her power. She simply didn't have the physical capabilities to do those things. I don't care how much skill her power confers on her; her muscles wouldn't sustain what she was asking of them. I suspect the same with PtV, but we only saw that active once when Contessa was a child, then the story jumped to her adult capabilities. She could've been working out diligently for all that time. Taylor, though, we KNOW did not do so.

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One of the things that PtE did from the beginning was bring Taylor up to her best possible physical state before she even left the locker. Her muscles were tuned, her reflexes are amazing, and so forth.

Also, it allows her to apply theoretical max strength (the type that people don't use in 99% of cases because it hurts too much) if and when she needs to.

After all, PtE didn't want to be working with a substandard host.

 

[MonkeyNinja d'PirateRobot]

There seems to be one bit about the whole thing that you're not getting... That Combat Thinker powers eliminate the need for muscles memory.

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But... I wasn't talking about muscle memory. I was talking about the actual muscles themselves. Like, it doesn't matter if you know how to tumble like Simone Biles if you don't have the muscles to allow you to do so. It doesn't matter if you have perfect lifting form if you're trying to lift more than your body can handle. The things that both Taylor and Danny did in this story don't fit what couch potatoes could do no matter how magically skilled; it's clear PtE helped Taylor with that, but QA isn't one of the shards that do that kind of thing. OP verified above that PtE is, but we see from canon that Taylor has to work out quite a bit to be able to handle the cape activities she gets up to.

 

[Lictre]

Also, it allows her to apply theoretical max strength (the type that people don't use in 99% of cases because it hurts too much) if and when she needs to.

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For instance, it could achieve the application of 'max strength' by causing a higher proportion of the muscle fibers to contract at the same time, before trading off to the next set of muscle fibers, effectively trading potential longer-lasting effort for higher instant effect.

If the effort had to go on for a longer time, there would probably be a cost in the form of more intense muscle fatigue, cramping, and such, but during that shorter time, the peak effort would be reliable.

Applying this effect in a lesser strength to the heart would help the circulatory system clean fatigue toxins from the muscles, and build up cardio-vascular fitness at an accelerated speed. The exhaustion would still suck, though.

However, this is all just speculation.

 

[Sleepyfoo]

But... I wasn't talking about muscle memory. I was talking about the actual muscles themselves. Like, it doesn't matter if you know how to tumble like Simone Biles if you don't have the muscles to allow you to do so. It doesn't matter if you have perfect lifting form if you're trying to lift more than your body can handle. The things that both Taylor and Danny did in this story don't fit what couch potatoes could do no matter how magically skilled; it's clear PtE helped Taylor with that, but QA isn't one of the shards that do that kind of thing. OP verified above that PtE is, but we see from canon that Taylor has to work out quite a bit to be able to handle the cape activities she gets up to.

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Nothing Danny did was in anyway superhuman or even outside the capabilities of couch-potato. Vaulting a desk is not terribly difficult, especially not when a healthy weight. Danny has never been anything other than Thin and Tall, and while precisely how strong or wiry he is is an open question, he is at least generally fit. Vaulting his desk barely merits a hop, particularly if he can use his arms for support while doing so. In the case of the chapter he only used one, which given his height was probably easier than trying to tuck himself directly over anyway.

Everything else he did was merely coordination and accuracy and awareness of his surroundings, which his power quite explicitly helped with.

The only way Danny would have had a problem vaulting his desk would be if he had one of those comically oversized desks the powerful and wealthy use in their oversized offices to show off their power and wealth. The Dockworkers couldn't afford a room big enough for one of those, and Danny wouldn't have spent money or otherwise acquired one anyway, it's not in his character to do so. There's no mention of a computer on his desk either, so no monitor to go around or through.

With perfect co-ordination and awareness, nothing he did is even remotely an issue, and he had that plus perfect clumsiness of his opponents.

Even without QA puppeting his body and theirs, leaving it at "just" probability manipulation, Danny has a chance to vault his desk without hurting himself, so that chance goes from 1/1000 to 1. He can twist and swing the chair without pulling something, in theory, so in practice that's what happens. No matter how out of shape he is, it is possible for him to perform the motion without injury, just extra unlikely. Except his power rather explicitly fixes that chance to whatever he wants.

I don't understand what part of the scene you think is impossible.

 

[Ack]

But... I wasn't talking about muscle memory. I was talking about the actual muscles themselves. Like, it doesn't matter if you know how to tumble like Simone Biles if you don't have the muscles to allow you to do so. It doesn't matter if you have perfect lifting form if you're trying to lift more than your body can handle. The things that both Taylor and Danny did in this story don't fit what couch potatoes could do no matter how magically skilled; it's clear PtE helped Taylor with that, but QA isn't one of the shards that do that kind of thing. OP verified above that PtE is, but we see from canon that Taylor has to work out quite a bit to be able to handle the cape activities she gets up to.

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Danny isn't a couch potato. He's got average musculature for someone of his height and weight.

So, he's not super-strong, but he's not super-heavy either.

QA overclocked his muscles to get him through that little fracas, but it's not like he had to lift a car.

He is going to feel it in the morning.

And yes, it is canon that QA can push organisms to go beyond their capabilities. The volume and strength of webbing that Taylor was getting her spiders to produce was over and above what is capable of happening in nature, by a significant fraction. (One estimate online is that it would've taken about a million black widows to create Taylor's knife and bullet proof costume in the time they did.)

If QA can do that to a spider, it can do it to a human.

 

[MonkeyNinja d'PirateRobot]

Danny isn't a couch potato. He's got average musculature for someone of his height and weight.

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I always got the impression he was a tall, thin beanpole with a desk job and a drinking problem. He's in the Dockworker's Union, yes, but when was the last time he did any work on the docks? He's a paper-pusher. Which is why he's now pushing Taylor's paper.

He is going to feel it in the morning.

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Good. That's at least better than I'd thought.

The volume and strength of webbing that Taylor was getting her spiders to produce was over and above what is capable of happening in nature, by a significant fraction. (One estimate online is that it would've taken about a million black widows to create Taylor's knife and bullet proof costume in the time they did.)

Click to shrink...

To be fair, that's mostly Wildbow not knowing how numbers work and wildly handwaving. Like the mass of the Endbringers, for one of the more egregious examples.

 

[Ack]

I always got the impression he was a tall, thin beanpole with a desk job and a drinking problem. He's in the Dockworker's Union, yes, but when was the last time he did any work on the docks? He's a paper-pusher. Which is why he's now pushing Taylor's paper.



Good. That's at least better than I'd thought.



To be fair, that's mostly Wildbow not knowing how numbers work and wildly handwaving. Like the mass of the Endbringers, for one of the more egregious examples.

Click to shrink...

The drinking problem is purely fanon. When he's offered a beer in canon, he doesn't even finish it, as far as I know.

He can have a desk job and still be moderately active.

Also, his adrenal glands were overclocked the moment he knew the fight was about to start. Everyone else was running on unleaded; he was running on rocket fuel.

 

[Ack]

A Darker Path

Part Fifty-Three: Learning New Viewpoints

[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]


Sundancer

The debate was still ongoing, well after the sun had gone down. Nobody else was using the rest stop, so they were sitting around a concrete picnic table with a pressure lamp on it for light. The reason for this was twofold: one, the interior of the RV was too cramped for any kind of reasonable group discussion where everyone could see everyone else's faces; and two, the mess that had been left behind after Noelle was fixed was still airing out despite their best efforts to clean it up, and nobody wanted to be sitting in that kind of atmosphere.

The meal they were sharing had been fixed up out of their stash of canned goods, but they were more interested in deciding what they should do, going forward. Given the sudden change in circumstances, their options were suddenly a whole lot more numerous.

Luke wanted to go back to Aleph and be a superhero for cash, and Marissa agreed with going back (though she could take or leave the cash). Krouse and Noelle didn't care where they were, so long as they were together, and Jess and Cody had suggested seeing what the rebuilding of Brockton Bay actually looked like before rejecting the idea. Oliver, as usual, had no real opinion on the matter.

"I just don't like the idea of splitting up like that," Marissa said. "If we go and you get left behind, you might never get back to Aleph."

Cody frowned. "Yeah, but—"

"Car," Jess interjected, pointing at where headlights were swinging into the rest stop. "No, wait. Van."

It was a high blocky vehicle, Marissa saw, with lots of ground clearance. And then it drove past a light pole, and she saw the markings. "PRT! What's the PRT doing here?"

There was only one possible explanation. "Shit," muttered Krouse. "They're here for us, aren't they? Okay, don't start anything, but if shit goes sideways, get Jess and Noelle to the RV and we'll do a fighting retreat."

"Copy that," Cody replied tersely. "Call it when you see it."

Marissa felt another wave of the sheer weirdness that had overtaken the team in the last twenty-four hours. Krouse was actually being a good leader, and Cody wasn't taking every chance to snipe at him. But there was no time to dwell on it. She took a deep breath and flexed her hands, ready to generate a smallish sun to drive back anyone who aggressed on them.

"No flashing lights," she ventured hopefully. "Maybe they're not here to arrest us?"

Luke snorted. "Since when have we been that lucky?"

"This is Atropos' town, like the sign says." Jess apparently thought the same as Marissa did. "Do you think she'd go to all the trouble of getting Panacea out here to fix Noelle's problems, then sic the PRT on us afterward?"

There was a thoughtful silence, punctuated by the van pulling to a halt and the engine shutting down. "Maybe she doesn't know they're doing this?" suggested Krouse. "No, wait, that makes no sense at all. Not after what she's done." He took a deep breath. "No aggression, none, until we find out what they want."

The doors of the van opened, and half a dozen people got out. As they stepped into a nearby pool of light, Marissa saw that there were five adults and one kid; two of the adults were wearing PRT armour but were hanging back, and the other four were in costume. There was a man in red, a woman in black with glowing blue circuit-board lines on her costume, and a tall buff black guy in a hooded martial-arts style costume and domino mask, who was carrying a large case. The kid was wearing cute pastel camo scrubs and a downsized military helmet, and had thick bracers on her forearms.

"We come in peace," the red-costumed guy announced, holding his hands up to show they were empty. This wasn't necessarily a sign of good intent—Blaster powers were a thing—but the overall attitude of the group was not aggressive. "You nice folks would be, uh, travelling, yeah?"

Any suspicion that the PRT didn't know who they were evaporated into the chilly night air. Marissa didn't know exactly what was going on, and she suspected nobody else did either. This was not the tone that they usually got when interacting with law enforcement aware of their true nature.

"That would be us." Krouse actually managed to sound unconcerned and in charge of the situation. He stood up, but didn't move away from the table. "Can we help you?"

"Actually, it's the other way around," the woman said. "We're here to help you. Specifically, Miss Medic here got a text from Atropos, mentioning your friend here in the wheelchair. So, she's volunteered her time to come out here and do some pro bono work."

That statement had the same effect on Marissa's understanding of the situation as a large rock dropped into a small pond. As she stared, trying to make sense of what she'd just heard, Jess spoke up. "What?"

The guy in the martial arts outfit—and man, could he really rock that look—cleared his throat. "Let's start again. Hi, I'm Tenebrae, of the Brockton Bay Wards. Assault and Battery are here as Protectorate reps to make sure nobody does anything stupid. I also happen to be Miss Medic's primary caregiver, so anywhere she goes, I go. She got a text message from Atropos about your situation and asked me if she could help. Official permission was given, and here we are. Does that make more sense?"

Cody raised a hand, like he was in class. "So … you guys actually do what Atropos says?"

Assault coughed into his closed fist, making a sound not unlike 'hell yes'. Then he spoke more clearly. "Not … officially. But when she makes a suggestion, Director Piggot absolutely does not reject the idea out of hand. And when she described you as 'ex-villains', we were intrigued. The more villains who become ex-villains, the better. In my humble opinion, of course."

Despite the gravity of the situation, Marissa had to fight down a curl of her lip. If I'm not much mistaken, that man has never had a humble opinion in his life.

"So, you just came out here to help Genesis?" Luke peered at the kid calling herself Miss Medic. "What can you do, exactly? I mean, I don't want to say 'you're just a kid, but …"

Miss Medic nodded earnestly. "I am a kid, yeah. But you might be surprised." She approached Jess, with Tenebrae following close behind. "Would you like me to fix your spine?"

Jess blinked a couple of times. Marissa was fairly certain she might have been asked that specific question before, but never by a middle schooler. "And you can do it, just like that? I've been in a wheelchair since I was four." The aching hope almost hidden in her tone brought tears to Marissa's eyes.

"And wouldn't you need a whole operating theatre or something?" asked Oliver.

"And why would Atropos even tell you about us?" That was Krouse.

The girl drew herself up as tall as she was able. "Ever since I became Miss Medic, I've wanted to help people. Atropos knows this. She's nice. So, she told me because she knew I'd want to help." She looked over at Oliver and grinned, then snapped her fingers. A whole bunch of panels popped open on the bracer on that arm, and Marissa was suddenly staring at a mass of surgical tools, from syringes to scalpels to tiny rotating saws. "And I bring my tools with me, wherever I go."

"But can you do it?" pressed Jess. "Half the surgeries I had left me worse off than before. I'm sick of being cut open for no good reason."

Miss Medic snapped her fingers again, and the surgical tools vanished back inside the bracer. "Let's put it this way. If you didn't have legs, I could build you working legs in less than a day. When everything's still present, but not connected up right? Pfft. Not even a challenge."

"So, uh, where were you planning on doing the surgery?" asked Marissa. "Because I don't think the ground is a good idea, and this table would not be comfortable."

"For that," Battery said briskly, "we have a stretcher inside the van. If you're okay with this?"

Jess blinked again. "Jesus Christ," she muttered, then looked around at the rest of the Travellers. Marissa gave her an encouraging nod and smile, and she saw the others offering similar expressions of support. Finally, Jess herself nodded. "Okay, then," she said. "Let's see what you can do."

Miss Medic beamed.

<><>​

Atropos

I teleported into the kitchen with the pizza in one hand and bottle of soda in the other, not wanting to startle Cherie overmuch. From the living room, I heard the dialogue on the TV.

"Grandpa? Maybe you can come over and read it again to me tomorrow."

"As you wish."

A grin spread across my face as I removed the hat and mask, then shrugged out of the long-coat and hung it up on the back of Dad's chair. Carrying the pizza and soda along with a couple of cups, I headed through into the living room. "Hey, I'm home. I see you found our DVD collection."

Sitting up on the sofa, Cherie went to hide the tissue she'd just been dabbing at her eyes with, then visibly changed her mind. "Yeah," she said, sounding a little nasal. After blowing her nose (and getting a fresh tissue), she kept talking. "That's an amazing movie. How come you never told me how good it was?"

"It's totally one of the best movies ever," I agreed, sitting at the other end of the sofa and putting the pizza box down between us. "And I think I might've mentioned it a couple of times. But there's lots of good movies out there." I opened the box. "Behold, pizza."

"Ooh, yes," she enthused, scooping up one of the still-warm slices. I did the same from my side, and the next few moments were spent enjoying three of the four main food groups when it came to being a teenager: salt, fat, and half-melted cheese (the last one being sugar, which was what the soda was for). When she finished the first slice, she picked up a second one but didn't eat it immediately. "Oh, and I laughed so hard when I recognised the dialogue you used during the sword fight. I guess Mouse Protector's a fan, too?"

I chuckled. "Seeing as she uses a sword, and considering her personality, I would've been surprised if she wasn't. So, if you liked it so much, why were you crying?"

"Because it was so beautiful." She took a bite from her second slice and waved it for emphasis while she chewed and swallowed. "Where the kid's sick, and the grandfather is there to keep him company and make him feel better. There's no hidden agenda. He's just there for his grandson. If I'd seen that before I ran away, I wouldn't have understood it. I mean, I did watch bits and pieces of TV shows and movies that I know I totally didn't understand the way I do now. Because living here, in this house, I've learned that can actually happen."

I smiled. "That's good. I'm glad. And we can absolutely watch it again, if you want. Use all the tissues you need." Just as I started on my second slice, the gravel driveway alongside the house crunched as Dad drove in.

Cherie looked down at the pizza. "Will we get in trouble for eating this on the sofa instead of at the table?"

I snorted. "Hardly. Dad and me have done this before, plenty of times. He might get upset if we eat all the meat lovers slices before he comes in, though."

"Okay, cool. I'll go let him in." Getting up from the sofa, she left her slice behind in an empty section of the box, and headed through to the kitchen. From where I was sitting, I could see her unlock the back door and open it for Dad.

"Hey, Mr Hebert," she said cheerfully. "We haven't eaten all the pizza yet, but you might have to hurry."

"Hi, Cherie." He offered me a wave as he came in through the back door. "Thank you very much." Pausing for a second, he looked closely at her. "Have you been crying? What's the matter?"

"She watched The Princess Bride while we were out," I called through from the living room. "There was a bit of emotional overload going on."

"Ah." He nodded, looking somewhat enlightened, as he took his coat off. "All is explained. So, what are we watching now? We haven't had a movie night in a while." After hanging up his coat, he headed through into the entrance hall. "I'm just going to wash my hands and face, then I'll be right with you."

"Take your time," I said with a smirk. "These meat lovers slices are looking amazingly tasty right now."

"Don't you even think about it!" he called out. By now, Cherie was back in the living room, giggling at our banter.

I grinned at her, and pitched my voice loudly enough that Dad could hear. "Mwahahaha."

"My daughter is evil!"

"Well, duh!"

<><>​

Tenebrae

After her preliminary examination of Genesis, Riley had determined that she was going to need access to the woman's legs as well as her spine, so as Brian understood it, the ex-villain was currently down to her underwear. For this reason, the doors to the van were closed, and Riley was working with Battery and Sundancer as surgical assistants (more to keep the PRT and the Travellers happy than out of any real need).

The case he'd been carrying was in there too; it contained a selection of her 'instant spare parts'. This consisted of bits and pieces she'd made up ahead of time and kept in storage in case they were ever needed in the middle of surgery. However it worked, he was glad Riley was embracing the role of Miss Medic. As he stood with his back to the doors but within earshot, he could hear her voice giving instructions calmly and concisely.

"Okay, that's the main artificial neural fibre path run through there. Genesis, I'm about to connect up your left leg to the network. You should be feeling a tingle in some or all of your toes when I do … this."

"Yipe. Wow. I haven't felt my toes tingle in so long. Um … I don't think my big toe is, though."

"Ah-hah. Yes, you're right. Connecting that up … now. How's that?"

"Oh, yeah. Big toe feels like a champagne cork about to pop."

"Excellent. Now let's work on the right leg."

The leader of the Travellers, the one who'd been introduced as Trickster, approached him from where Assault was chatting to the others. "What's happening in there? How are they doing?"

Brian shrugged. "I'm not about to sneak a peek, but I understand that she just felt the toes on her left foot tingle. Apparently that's a good sign?"

"Oh, heck yeah." Trickster smiled with relief. "She hasn't felt anything below the knees for years. We've had to make sure she doesn't have any ongoing injuries from chafing and stuff. If her toes are tingling, that's really good."

"Well, since Atropos took out Bonesaw, Miss Medic has been just about the best surgeon in the world, so Genesis is in good hands." It was never a bad time to lay the groundwork for distracting people from realising the truth. "So, how long have you guys been a team?"

Trickster scratched the back of his neck. "Just before Christmas oh-nine. It was a pretty bad time. Simurgh attack. We all got powers around the same time, and we've been bouncing from pillar to post ever since."

"Damn." Brian shook his head. "You know she's dead, right? Atropos got her."

"Yeah." Trickster grinned as he nodded. "Best damn thing I've seen since forever."

"It was definitely up there," agreed Brian. He frowned, trying to recall the sequence of Endbringer attacks. "Late oh-nine, Simurgh … wait, that was Madison, wasn't it? Wisconsin. That's still a quarantine zone. Or it was until yesterday."

"So, it's really true?" Trickster seemed to be seeking validation for something. "All the Simurgh bombs are now defused?"

"Well, I don't know any personally," Brian confessed. "But that's what Atropos told the Simurgh to do, and there's been stories on the news about people breaking down and crying over suddenly being free from the voices in their heads."

"Yeah." Trickster nodded slowly. "I can understand that. I think—"

Whatever he thought was destined to never be aired, because just then Sundancer's voice echoed from inside the van. "You see that? Your foot moved! You moved your foot!"

Trickster stared at Brian, wide-eyed. "Did you hear that?"

Brian grinned and offered a high-five. "Hell yes."

Trickster returned it, then headed off to give his teammates the good news. Brian remained where he was, but the grin stayed on his face.

Moments like this were worth all the crap.

<><>​

Forty-Five Minutes Later

Riley

"… and that should do it. All nerves showing connectivity, haptic feedback operating correctly." Riley paused. "If you're feeling any pain or discomfort, now's the time to tell me."

Genesis frowned thoughtfully. "No, it all feels good."

"Okay, test number two." Riley extruded a probe from her left bracer. "I'm going to count while I tap with the probe. Let me know if you hear a number but don't feel anything. One, two, three …" As she counted, she tapped her way down Genesis' left leg. On 'seventeen', she winked at Sundancer and waved the probe in midair. "Eighteen, nineteen—"

"Wait, I didn't feel anything on seventeen."

"No, that was my bad. Seventeen." She tapped the point she'd missed, then kept going. Once she was done, she started closing the incisions she'd made, sealing them with a surgical glue of her personal devising that worked better than the commercial stuff. "Now let's do the final movement test. Left foot, toes."

"Left foot, okay." Genesis wriggled the toes on that foot. They all responded.

"Right foot, toes."

"Right foot, okay." More wriggling ensued.

"Left ankle."

"Left ankle, okay."

One joint at a time, they worked their way up Genesis' legs, confirming she had active conscious control of both limbs. Finally, Riley sat back. "Alright, then. Everything seems to be in at least minimal working order. Let's get you presentable, and take this show on the road."

"Wait, you're saying I can walk?" asked Genesis. "Just like that?"

"Not … exactly." Riley cleared her throat. "Your leg muscles were just about gone, and the nerve structures with them. But I've put in artificial fibres for both, for your body to build on. I could entirely replace the absent muscles, but that would take a bit longer, and feel weird until they were properly seated."

"In addition, child labour laws prohibit Miss Medic from working past midnight in her cape identity," Battery added. "So even if you were willing to undergo the longer procedure, the legalities of the situation make it impossible. I am sorry about that, by the way."

Genesis sighed. "Okay, I guess I'm going to just have to take legs that I can definitely feel with again, and can kind of move around when I'm lying down. That's definitely a step up, pun intended. But what's it going to be like when I try to get vertical?"

"That's what we're going to find out now." Riley and Sundancer assisted Genesis in putting her clothes back on—her newfound control of her legs came in handy there—and then they opened the rear doors of the van.

"Genesis!" Trickster came over, with the woman called Noelle leaning on his arm. Ballistic, Perdition, and the guy called Oliver were close behind. "How are you? Can you walk now?"

"Did she give you robot legs?" called out Perdition. "Because that would actually be kinda cool."

"That would've taken me another three, four hours," Riley retorted. "Genesis is not walking right now. But she should be able to stand with assistance, and maybe totter a few steps. Tenebrae, Ballistic, if you big strong men could help her down, please? Do not drop her, I just finished fixing her."

Brian and the very solidly built Ballistic stepped up on either side of Genesis and assisted her down out of the van. She winced as her weight settled on her feet. "Wow, I can feel everything under my feet. How did I ever get used to doing this the first time around?"

"It is amazing what the human body can get accustomed to," Riley advised her. "Trust me on this."

"Okay, then. I'll take your word for it." Genesis, propped up by the guys, took a few tentative steps. Riley watched as her knees and ankles flexed properly, but her legs were already starting to tremble by the end of it. "Okay, I'm walking, kind of. But I'd like to sit down now."

"Good thing we didn't trash this yet." Oliver brought her wheelchair over.

Gratefully, she subsided into it. "Oh, trust me. As soon as I'm walking properly, I am torching this damn thing. But for the time being, it gets to live."

"I could launch it into the side of a mountain for you," offered Ballistic. "You know, once it's on fire."

"I might just take you up on that." Genesis turned to Riley. "So, how do I get out of this thing for good?"

"Well, I've implanted artificial nerves and muscle fibres to boost what's already there," Riley reminded her. "You need to exercise and rebuild your real muscles, and reinforce the neural pathways as much as you can. I wouldn't advise jogging, not until your balance improves, but an hour of walking every day would be a really good idea."

"An hour? Are you sure about that?" She wriggled her feet. "I couldn't take five steps."

"Totally." Riley wasn't giving an inch, Brian had to give her that. "You can spread it through the day, but the more you push yourself, the more you'll find you can do."

"I'll make sure of it," Noelle said with a grin from where she leaned against Trickster. "I'm only a bit less wobbly than she is. We can be exercise buddies."

Genesis gave her a dirty look. "Why do I get the feeling you're going to be a slave driver?"

"Because that's what I'm gonna do?" Noelle shrugged. "We've both been given the chance to turn our lives around. Let's not waste it."

"Yeah, good point." Genesis gave Riley a smile. "Thank you. I'll do my best."

Riley returned it. "No problem. Glad I could help."

Brian headed back to the PRT van with Riley and the two Protectorate heroes, and climbed on board. Once they were strapped in, Assault slapped the side of the van twice, and the engine started.

"You okay?" asked Brian as Riley took her helmet off. "You were in there for nearly an hour."

"Nah, I'm fine." She gave him a grin. "She'll be walking on her own in a week. I'd put money on it."

"Nice." Assault reached across and ruffled her hair. "I'm proud of you, kid."

"So am I," Brian said, putting an arm around her in a side-hug. "You did good tonight."

"I did, didn't I?" Riley smiled and leaned into him.

<><>​

Taylor

As I headed up to bed, taking my costume elements with me, I pulled out my phone and logged onto PHO. It was time, I judged, to plant another seed.

<><>

■

​

PRIVATE MESSAGE
To: TheRealPanacea
From: Atropos
Subject: Hang out?

Hey hey,
I was thinking we could meet down at the Boardwalk tomorrow afternoon and we could just hang out for a bit. No shady favors, I promise.
While we're there, I'll introduce you to the Rogues' Guild. They're pretty cool.
What do you say?

Atropos

■

​

PRIVATE MESSAGE
To: Parian
From: Atropos
Subject: FYI

Hi,
Purely for the sake of sharing information, Panacea also likes girls and is currently single.
(Also, very snarky.)
You know, just in case you were interested.
Toodles!

Atropos

■

<><>​

Parian

Sabah stared at the message that had just popped up in her PMs as she was browsing PHO before going to bed. She read it through twice, just to make sure she hadn't misunderstood it.

"Well, now," she murmured as she shut down the laptop and turned off her bedside light. "Isn't that interesting?"



End of Part Fifty-Three

 

[purps]

Don't know if it's been said before, but this is Path to Victory (or PtV alt, in this case) done right.

 

[Xyshuryn]

Path to hooking my friends up? Hmm, not working.
Path to getting Amy laid? Nope... oh right! Power only ends things. Duh.
Path to ending Amy's Bachelorette status? Bingo.

 

[woodzrox]

No SV update? Since QQ emails are down I only found out about this chapter was because I follow you on FF.

 

[Kclcmdr]

No SV update? Since QQ emails are down I only found out about this chapter was because I follow you on FF.

Click to shrink...

The SV update was posted but in the Snek thread in error & the author probably was in a rush as it was probably nighttime at his time spot while the latest updates was at around 1111 or 1011 AM EST...

The SB spacebattles forum has A Darker Path available still below link
--> https://forums.spacebattles.com/threads/a-darker-path-worm-fanfic.1037109/

 

[HeyaUser]

Path to Shipping

 

[Ack]

No SV update? Since QQ emails are down I only found out about this chapter was because I follow you on FF.

Click to shrink...

Yeah, sorry about that. For some reason, I didn't check the thread (it was just after 1 AM my time). My bad for rushing.

It's up there now.

 

[Prince Charon]

Path to hooking my friends up? Hmm, not working.
Path to getting Amy laid? Nope... oh right! Power only ends things. Duh.
Path to ending Amy's Bachelorette status? Bingo.

Click to shrink...

OK, yeah. Taylor can END practically anything, so that makes sense. Doesn't mean that it would be a totally healthy relationship, though.

 

[Ack]

A Darker Path

Part Fifty-Four: Meetings

[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]


Saturday Midday, February 26, 2011

Glory Girl

"Okay, I'll admit that the Boardwalk is nice on a Saturday, and I've heard good things about the Rogues' Guild, but this is the first time you've ever wanted to come down and meet them." Vicky gave Amy the side-eye as they flew toward the waterfront. They were both costumed up, which their mother had insisted on. In her opinion, every public appearance that wasn't school (or some other social occasion) needed to be leveraged to improve the team's PR standing. "What's really going on here, and why didn't you want to talk about it in front of Mom?"

Amy sighed. "Before I tell you why, I need you to make two promises. First, that you won't be upset with me, and second, that you won't tell Carol. Because she will totally be upset with me."

"Well, that's not ominous at all." Vicky's eyes widened with shock as something occurred to her. "Wait, are you dating one of them? Please tell me you're not dating Salvage. Because Mom will blow every gasket she has, and a few she doesn't, if she finds out that you are. And I won't be thrilled either."

"What?" Amy's voice was both startled and irritated. "No, geez, I'm not dating anyone. At all. I've never even met them, not to talk to anyway."

"Then what's going on?" Vicky hated to be in the dark about this sort of thing.

"Promise me first." Amy wasn't giving an inch.

Vicky could actually kind of respect that, even though she hated making promises about things she didn't know about. "Okay, I'll try not to freak, and I won't tell Mom, unless this is something actively harmful to you."

There was a long pause, then Amy nodded. "It's not actively harmful to me, so I guess I can live with the rest of it. I'm meeting Atropos."

"What?" Vicky was startled. "Again? I thought you weren't doing that anymore!"

She vividly recalled that first encounter in the park. The way Atropos had almost negligently taken her down and explained the facts of life to her had made a strong impression on her. After watching the video of the Slaughterhouse Nine takedown, she'd reached an even deeper awareness of how easily Atropos could have killed her, had the black-clad cape chosen to do so. Nothing she'd seen of Atropos since, including the second meeting in the park, had mitigated that impression one iota. Instead, it had set the understanding in concrete. Fucking with Atropos, ever, in any way, is fatal.

"I've, uh, I've actually gone to meet her, and she's come to see me, a couple of times that you didn't know about," Amy confessed. "You promised to try not to freak out, remember."

"Wait." Vicky frowned. "You're not dating her, are you?" The idea of Amy liking girls wasn't something she'd ever considered.

"Haha, nope, not in a million years." The denial came out too sharp and strong to be faked. "I don't even really like her. She's just … really, really good at persuading me to do stuff that turns out to be the right thing to do, but feels really shady while I'm doing it, you know?"

"And you wanted me along to make sure she doesn't con you into doing anything against your will?" Vicky was down with that. She could say 'no' and make it stick all day long.

"Well, actually, no. She said this time there weren't any strings attached. No shady favours, she said. Just hanging out on the Boardwalk. So, I thought it might look a little less strange if we both showed up. It's not like anyone's going to expect us to try to arrest her."

Vicky snorted. "Well, that's true."

For all that Atropos was an unrepentant serial killer, she had a higher public approval rating than every other villain in the world, and most of the heroes. She even had a public fan club that was gathering members by the day, and traded photos taken of her. The head of this fan club was the black girl Vicky had met in the park on that fateful day; she had signed Polaroid selfies taken with Atropos, which nobody was ever going to beat.

Life in Brockton Bay was fucking weird sometimes.

They came in for a landing in a temporarily unoccupied spot on the Boardwalk. Vicky alighted as gently as a feather, then let Amy down onto her feet. A few people took photos, and Vicky preened a little; this was as it should be. "Okay, so when's Atropos supposed to meet you again?"

Atropos' voice came from directly behind her. "How about right now?"

Vicky whirled, startled, but Amy barely reacted. "Hi, Atropos," she said, turning around. "Couldn't resist, could you?"

"You knew where I was gonna be, the moment Glory Girl said that," Atropos replied. "So it hardly counts as a jump-scare for you, does it?"

Vicky couldn't see the black-clad cape's face, but knew there had to be a smirk under the morph mask. "That was … mean," she muttered, wanting to use a stronger word but unwilling to do so with so many witnesses around. Even more irritating, everyone was taking photos now, not just the few who had snapped pictures of her and Amy together.

"Well, maybe you'll learn not to tempt fate like that." Making a cut-off motion with her hand, Atropos raised her voice a little. "Okay, folks, nothing more to see here."

Vicky watched in aggravated surprise as the request actually worked; the people actually stopped taking photos. They moved away, breaking up into groups of two and three, occasionally glancing back at Atropos but not intruding on her privacy anymore. "That's just bullshit," she muttered. "Why do they do what you tell them?"

You're a villain, she meant. Not a hero. Even if you did kill the Endbringers. It was totally unfair, especially since she'd been helping people since she got her powers and hadn't killed a single person, ever.

"I'm sure you'll figure it out eventually." Atropos' voice was dry. "So, Amy, did you bring along that second present for Nilbog?"

"I did." Amy pulled a small vial out of her robes. "This should be enough for what you want. You haven't told anyone that I supplied this virus?"

In a sleight of hand move that Vicky would've sworn belonged to someone with a Mover power, Amy's hand was empty and Atropos was tucking the vial into her long-coat pocket. "Not unless you want me to. But it's probably better that we each maintain our brand, yeah? Me as the remorseless killer and you as the nice, safe, fluffy healer."

Ooh yeah, good point. While Vicky would've liked Amy to get at least some of the credit for destroying Nilbog and the Goblin Kingdom, Atropos' observation was smack on target. If Amy became known as someone who'd created a deadly virus for Atropos to use, she would possibly gain popularity in some circles but inevitably suffer at least a moderate level of backlash against her and New Wave in others. Mom would go ballistic, and not just because Ames has been meeting with Atropos behind our backs.

"That was basically my idea," Amy agreed, paralleling Vicky's train of thought. "Is anyone else going to get hurt by it? Any innocents, I mean?"

"The only relatives to Jamie Rinke who are living close enough to be threatened by it don't carry the same genetic combination that makes him so vulnerable to it." Atropos sounded totally sure of herself. "They'll suffer from the equivalent of a cold for a few days, then recover. There will be zero deaths outside the Ellisburg wall."

"How do we know you're not lying?" challenged Vicky as they started walking along the Boardwalk, people giving them their space. "You could be saying that just to make her feel better."

"I could, but I'm not." Atropos took a folded sheet of paper from her pocket and handed it to Vicky. "This is a list of his relatives in the region, along with their addresses. Keep tabs on them. You'll see for yourself."

"Jesus." Vicky opened the paper and stared at the dot-matrix-printed list, then at Atropos. "How did you even know to have that …?" She stumbled verbally, lost for words.

"I'm Atropos." The dark visage gazed back at her. "It's what I do. Do you doubt me now?"

"Um … no." The sheer level of audacious bullshittery in that single action had decimated her arguments in one fell swoop. There was nothing more to be said about Ellisburg. Fully aware that Amy was covertly grinning in a 'this is what I've had to deal with' way, she scrambled for something else to say. "Um, Gallant told me that Tenebrae and Miss Medic went out to the city limits last night, on the strength of a text you sent to Miss Medic. What was that about?"

"Wait, what?" Amy's head snapped around. "Is this about the Travellers? What happened? Is Noelle okay? She was okay when I left her."

Vicky stared at Amy in her turn. "Hold the phone. What do you know about this? Who are the Travellers, and what've they got to do with stuff?"

"Okay, from the top," Atropos said. "The Travellers are a bunch of ex-villainous ex-Simurgh-bombs currently camped at the edge of town while they decide on their next move. They came here to ask politely if I would kill the extremely troublesome powers of one of their number, a pseudo-case-fifty-three called Noelle. I killed her powers, and Amy fixed her body. With me so far?"

After a moment to sort events out in her head, Vicky nodded. "Uh … yeah, I guess."

"Good." Atropos turned to Amy. "Noelle's doing just fine, but you might have noticed that one of their other members, Genesis, was in a wheelchair. I didn't ask you to heal her for two reasons: one, I was on a tight schedule; and two, you can fix paraplegia in your sleep. I'm only going to call on you for stuff you haven't dealt with a thousand times before. Miss Medic, however, needed the confidence boost so I mentioned the situation to her, and it got done."

"Ah," said Amy. "Okay, that makes sense. I remember wondering why you didn't ask me to help the other woman, but we were kind of in a hurry, I guess." If Vicky were to guess, professional pride prompted the next question. "So how good a job did she do?"

"Genesis has gone from zero use of her legs to careful walking with assistance." Atropos' voice had a note of pride in it. "She'll be walking unassisted in a week, and running in a month."

Amy blinked, her gaze going distant. "Huh. From the atrophying I saw … that's actually pretty impressive."

Vicky frowned, ready to defend Amy's capabilities. "You could've had her walking in five minutes. I've seen you do it."

"No." Amy shook her head. "That was with people who'd recently had an accident or disease that paralysed them. Someone who'd been in a chair nearly all their lives would have minimal muscle tone, and the nerves themselves might have degraded to uselessness. I'd literally have to add body mass, or cannibalise it from the rest of their body, to get their legs back in proper working order. And then they'd have to learn how to walk, all over again. Unassisted walking in a week is damn good."

"Okay, if you say so." Vicky was absolutely not going to argue recovery times with Amy; that was a losing game from the start. However, something Atropos had said had gotten her attention, so she swung her attention back to the black-clad cape. "But who even gave you permission to 'call on' my sister for anything? Whatever hold you might've had over her from our first fight, you can't keep just yanking her chain anytime you want."

Atropos chuckled. "First, that wasn't a fight. That was a lesson. Second, I called in that marker exactly once. Since then, I've just asked. She's had the choice to say yes or no. I'm pleased to say she's said yes each time, and Brockton Bay is the better for it."

Right then, Vicky made a mental note to ask Amy about all the times Atropos had called on her, and why. "Okay, so how is healing a villain case fifty-three good for Brockton Bay?"

"Noelle's power was out of control." Atropos may as well have been reading the news, for all the drama she put into the words. "Anytime someone touched her, she spawned a twisted evil clone of them that had all the memories of the original, and hated everything they held dear. Clones of capes got variations on the powers of the original. She was also getting literally monstrous. Much bigger, and she would've been eating people whole and spitting out clones of them ad infinitum. Not something I needed or wanted in or near Brockton Bay."

"So why didn't you just kill her?" Vicky tried to keep the bitterness out of her tone, but it wasn't easy. "That's your go-to, isn't it? Murder?"

"Oh, it totally is," agreed Atropos, neatly taking the wind out of her sails. "And I could've. But the Travellers have useful abilities, and now that Noelle and Genesis have had their personal issues rendered null and void, there's a very real chance they'll join in on the revamping efforts in the city. Every little bit counts."

Amy laughed out loud, sounding delighted. "And because you got the cutest Ward since Vista to heal Genesis, they're a lot more likely to trust the Protectorate and PRT to let them actually do their thing here in Brockton Bay. That's sneaky. I like it."

"And the brunette in the front row wins first prize." Atropos gestured. "Here we are. The Rogues' Guild. Either of you guys met them before?"

"Not really," Vicky admitted, looking at the stall with the dolls, the guy in power armour, the dancing woman with the ribbons, and the others. "I've seen them while flying over, but that's about it. Ames?"

Amy shook her head. "No, but they sound interesting."

"Come on," said Atropos. "I'll introduce you."

<><>​

Panacea

It was weird, but Amy was enjoying Atropos' company more than she had on previous occasions. She wasn't sure if it was because the Boardwalk was a nice place to be, or because she'd gotten feedback on the job she'd done on Noelle. It hadn't been easy, but she was quite proud of the result.

If anything was irritating her, it was Vicky's attempts to pick at Atropos' impervious calm. She'd been there herself; Atropos had all the answers, and that was all there was to that. Watching Vicky bash her head against the same stone wall was both amusing and annoying. Why couldn't her sister just accept that she'd lost the argument and move on?

It was, however, nice to get the full detail on why dealing with Noelle had been such a big deal; she'd caught hints, but twisted clones who hated everything she held dear? Hell nope, with an extra helping of 'fuck that' on top. She knew what her powers were capable of. Having someone who actively hated humanity in charge of those powers … a shiver went down her spine. If that happened, they could kiss most of the United States goodbye, at the very least.

But that threat was done with. And now here, today, she was going to meet some people whom Atropos had publicly approved of. Moving forward, she followed Atropos toward the rogue capes.

"Hi, Salvage," Atropos greeted the first one they came to; a man in hulking power armour, wearing a train conductor's cap and goggles. He was seated on a sturdy-looking metal folding chair, behind an equally sturdy-looking table. On the table, it seemed he was building toy cars and locomotives and aeroplanes out of scrap metal, polishing them on a wheel until they were safe to play with. "How's things going?"

"Pretty damn good, actually." Salvage offered Atropos a smile. "You were right about the fund-raiser. People know about us now, and bring their kids around. Thanks for bein' there for us."

"Not a problem." Atropos sounded pleased. "You being here helped me out, so I'm happy to help you out. I just thought I might introduce you to Panacea. She's helped me out a couple of times, too."

Amy wondered why Atropos hadn't mentioned Vicky, but then she noticed that her sister had already moved along and was watching the cat-costumed girl with the ribbons swirling around her; probably trying to see how it was done. "Hi," she said belatedly. "I'm pleased to meet you."

"Hey, nice to meet you too." One oversized metal hand extended across the table, and she gingerly shook it. It was definitely metal, not disguised biological material, and it made her wonder how much of him was metal.

She moved along with Atropos to Parian's stall. The 'doll cape', as some called her, was a known quantity in Brockton Bay. She augmented her income from her market stall with animated figures at mall openings and the like, but Amy had never actually met her before.

"Hi," said Atropos briskly. "Parian, meet Panacea. Panacea, Parian. You're both pretty cool, so I thought I'd introduce you."

"Oh." The voice was soft and sweet, for all that it came from behind a white mask featuring a classical doll's face. "Hello. I … I suppose I never expected a real superhero like you to come to my stall like this." At her elbow, needles threaded themselves, then started working at breakneck speed on a doll base.

Amy found the speed and precision of the doll construction fascinating, but she also felt it necessary to correct the record. "I'm a hero, sure, but I don't go out and beat up bad guys like everyone else. I'm the one who heals them afterward."

"You shouldn't put yourself down like that," Parian said, but not harshly. From the tone of her voice, she'd had her share of put-downs, probably because of her own choices in life. "You save lives. And if Atropos calls you cool, then you're cool."

It was kind of weird to realise that praise from Atropos was actually hard to come by. The girl was as ruthless in her descriptions of people as she was in her treatment of bad guys. "So, uh, what did you do that Atropos thought was cool?"

Parian seemed to think for a moment. "I, um … I suppose I took in Salvage and Bastet, and we formed the Rogues' Guild. They needed help and I helped them, which on a, uh, limited income wasn't easy, but it all worked out in the end." She gestured to the left and right. "But anyone could've done that, really." The doll at her elbow was quite a ways toward completion, managing to look like a stop-motion display in real time.

"Anyone probably could've," Amy felt compelled to say. This was something she saw a lot of. People who could do something to help those less fortunate, and … didn't. "But you're the one who did. That's actually pretty brave of you."

"Yes, well." Parian nodded toward Atropos, who'd moved several steps away. "We really got our start because of the stimulus cards. That lifted our collective budget out of the 'are we going to do this thing or eat?' dilemma, and gave us some breathing room. And now most of us have good jobs, and we owe it to the Rogues' Guild, and to Atropos."

It was a sobering realisation to Amy that, while she and Vicky hadn't really faced a change of circumstance due to Atropos' actions, many people across Brockton Bay had. Everyone was getting a boost, and it was people at the lowest strata of society who were feeling it the most. She tried to think back to the last time she'd seen a homeless person or a panhandler, and she couldn't.

"Yeah, I kind of owe Atropos a bit myself," she confided. "Not the same level of issues that you did, of course, but she gave me some advice and helped me out when I most needed it, and yeah, it really turned out well."

Parian's voice held a smile. "She's kind of like that. I'd be the last to say she's sweet, exactly, but she knows exactly how to help, and when to step back."

Amy had to laugh. "You're right there. That's her in a nutshell." She paused. "So anyway, what about you? I mean, you know about my life. That's kind of a thing when it comes to being an open cape. But is doll-making what you want to do for the rest of your life?"

"Well, I like making the dolls." Parian took the one that had been assembling itself; floating scissors started tidying it up. "But I also want to get into fashion design. It's been a dream of mine for a while now."

"Fashion design." Amy rolled the phrase around in her mouth. "That actually sounds pretty cool. Would you design normal clothes, costumes for capes, or both?"

Parian chuckled, a pretty sound. "I suspect designing cape costumes would lead to dramas with secret identities and having to cut and stitch things like Kevlar, not to mention other costume accessories. Normal clothing would probably suit me better for the time being."

"Hah, yeah." Amy rolled her eyes. "Imagine becoming known as the best villain costumer on the east coast. Nobody would be able to park on the street for all the PRT surveillance vans."

This time, Parian laughed. "Okay, that's legitimately funny. Here, this is yours." She handed over the doll she'd been working on since Amy arrived.

Taking it, Amy looked properly at it for the first time, and realised it was a near-perfect rendition of her, in costume, in miniature. Wonderingly, she found she could push back the hood and pull down the scarf, as she'd already done with her real costume, to reveal frizzy brown threads for hair, and even the suggestion of freckles across the doll's nose. "Wow …" she breathed. "I can't take this. It's gotta be worth—" Putting it down, she let it go, but couldn't bring herself to take her hands away.

"It's yours," Parian said flatly. "I want you to have it." Reaching across the table, she closed Amy's hands around the doll again.

"But you can't just give away dolls to superheroes just because they are superheroes," Amy protested.

"I don't." Parian leaned closer. "I haven't given one to Atropos, even though I owe her more than I can ever repay. And I haven't given one to Glory Girl. I'm giving one to you. Because you're talking to me like a person, not like just some doll-making machine. And because …" Her voice trailed off to a near-whisper.

"What?" Amy leaned forward as well.

Parian took a deep breath. "I think you're cute," she said quietly.

"Oh." Amy felt a blush spreading across her cheeks. "Um."

"S-sorry, I … I shouldn't have … forget I said—" Parian began to stutter, her words falling over themselves. "You can keep the doll, I—"

Amy took a deep breath. "It's okay." And it really was, not least because of the boost in self-confidence that associating with Atropos had given her. After rebuilding Bonesaw into a productive member of cape society and returning whatever Sveta and Noelle had been back to their human forms, an awkward pass was nothing.

Well, not 'nothing', exactly. It was … something. Something to think about, to consider. And definitely not something to knock back out of hand. Parian was nice to talk to, and it wasn't like Amy had any other girls striving to get her attention.

"It's okay?" Parian sounded dubious. Amy connected the dots almost immediately; Parian had been rejected because of her preferences before. Well, not today.

"It's totally okay," Amy assured her. "I love the doll. Vicky and my cousins are going to be so damn jealous." She paused. "And, um … do you have a number I can maybe call you on? So we can chat?"

"Um, um, sure!" A business card flew up out of the handbag that was hanging off the back of the stall, and Parian wrote a number on the back of it. When Amy took it, she found a cute little smiley appended to the end, and she smiled in return.

"Thanks for the doll," she said, tucking the card away securely. "It's amazing. You've got a real talent."

Parian nodded. "You're welcome," she said in a half-whisper.

Still clutching the doll, Amy stepped away from the stand. Atropos, clearly looking in her direction, gave her what she chose to take as an approving nod.

"Holy crap, that's gorgeous!" Vicky came back from where she'd been chatting with the girl in the dragon costume. "How much did that set you back?"

Amy grinned. "Wouldn't you like to know?"



End of Part Fifty-Four

 

[IndraP]

Atropos intended to end Amy's single status

 

[Ardrianian]

I wonder if Taylor pathed "end to sadness" and these are all the steps and sub trees for it?

 

[Pyrogirl]

For such a Darker story beginning and body count, the last two chapters are so wholesome.
I love it!

Path to End sadness. Wouldn't that be something.