A Darker Path [Worm Fanfic]

[seeing_octarine]

Ah.

Now I feel slow.

Thanks.

Click to shrink...

If you think you're slow, what does that say about the people here who perpetually can't seem to find the Like button?

 

[Necrovore]

..FF.net?

Click to shrink...

Eh, they have a Favorites option which is tracked and shown along side Follows for the stories. Though I guess that wouldn't count for individual chapters...


Ugh...I visited the site to check and now I have more stories to read...

 

[Ack]

A Darker Path

Part Seventy-One: Endings and Beginnings

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

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♦ Topic: I Went Over There
In: Boards ► Brockton Bay ► New Capes ► Atropos

Atropos (Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me) (Verified Dethpicable)
Posted On Mar 4th 2011:

Hello to all you wonderful people of Brockton Bay!

I hope you've all had as productive a day as I have.

Those of you who follow my doings on here would be aware that I explained to the last four quarantine zones how they had twenty-four hours to shape up or I'd be there to ship them out.

Pastor did the smart thing. He let his people go and surrendered to PRT custody a full two hours before I was due to go all Biblical on his ass.

I like it when people do the smart thing. Saves on ammo.

The villains in Gallup and Gary were a little more reluctant, but when I showed up and explained matters to them, they saw reason. I understand that a few took the option of 'go and never sin again', but the vast majority chose to take their chances with the legal system. I have it on good authority that this will indeed factor toward their sentencing.

Flint, on the other hand ... made me go over there.

I mean, you all saw me tell them to cut that shit out, but they chose not to. So, I had to go in there and cut it out for them. It was a little bit of a slog, I will admit that, but by the stroke of midnight, there was only one cape left in the city (me). Best workout I've had in a long time.

I'd just like to acknowledge the fact that the PRT really stepped up, providing room and board for all those displaced villains. I honestly couldn't have done it without you guys. Best minions a ruthless serial killer could hope for. (Kidding. Honestly.)

(I've had better.)

(Mwahahaha.)

Oh, and also, there were some costumed kids running around at Gary, playing at being villains. Not sure what they were after. Maybe autographs or something. I got selfies with them, anyway.

So, what's next on the agenda?

Well, the next time someone threatens the peace and harmony of Brockton Bay, you'll find out. Or rather, they will.

Be informed: a new city arises.

Mwahaha.

Oh, and before I forget: congratulations to our very own Director Piggot for her promotion to the Directorship of PRT New York. I wish her all the good fortune there.

Toodles!

(Showing page 1 of 126)

►Bagrat (Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)
Replied On Mar 4th 2011:
Well, crap.
Okay, I get it.
Atropos is bullshit squared on a bullshit sandwich.
But HOW in the goddamn HELL did she pull that one off?
Her Flint appearance is fine, but what's got me scratching my head is how she pulled off the Gary/Gallup show.
[This] is Gary, Indiana, as of twenty minutes to eleven, local time (2340 EST).
[This] is Gallup, New Mexico, as of twenty minutes to ten, local time (2340 EST).
Yes, those two bits of footage were independently recorded by the PRT at the *same time*, down to a tenth of a second, twelve hundred miles apart. If you focus in on Atropos, you can see exactly the same mannerisms and gestures at the same time. Even the breathing patterns are identical.
(I'm not going to say the voiceprints are identical too, but ... well, they *are* as close as can be matched with two different recording systems).
They only diverge after she steps into the portal in Gallup.
So, we knew she could teleport.
Now, apparently, she can be in two places at once.
Ladies and gentlemen: Atropos.
She does what she does.

►SocioVader
Replied On Mar 4th 2011:
Haha wow, the beatdown she lays on August Prince.
Kid should've quit while he was ahead.

►UnlikelyRomance
Replied On Mar 4th 2011:
Pastor lasted approximately 22 hours longer than I would've.
Makes you wonder what he said to his flock before he bolted.

►BlackSquiggles
Replied On Mar 4th 2011:
BWHAHAAHAHA!!!
That was glorious!

►Reave (Verified PRT Agent)
Replied On Mar 4th 2011:
The reports are correct.
Pastor severed his ties with his Flock and voluntarily gave himself up to PRT custody just before 10 PM EST, or 7 PM local time. He verified that Atropos' ultimatum was the driving force behind his surrender.
Atropos showed up at each of the Gary, Indiana and Gallup, New Mexico quarantine sites at the same time and gave the same speech, causing the vast majority of the villains to surrender themselves en masse. After she left the Gallup site, she was attacked at the Gary site by three notorious child villains, whom she overcame with her usual flair.
I am also authorized to verify that Flint, Michigan has been cleared of all capes. The Chicago PRT and Protectorate are conducting a sweep of the quarantine site for any other undesirables.
All in all, a good night's work.

►Atropos (Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me) (Verified Dethpicable)
Replied On Mar 4th 2011:
You're welcome, guys.
All yours.

►BrickFrog
Replied On Mar 4th 2011:
Okay, is nobody going to talk about how there's now two of them? Or she can duplicate herself or something?
What the hell is going on?
She was bad enough when there was just one of her.

►XxVoid_CowboyxX (Verified Atropos Fan Club Member)
Replied On Mar 4th 2011:
Dude, seriously, what the fuck? Atropos kicked the gangs out of Brockton Bay, ganked the Endbringers, and now she's cleared the last of the quarantine zones. What is your *problem*?

►UnconcernedFox
Replied On Mar 4th 2011:
*settles back in post-popcorn haze*
*that was AMAZING*
*can't wait to see what happens next*
​

End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ... 124, 125, 126

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<><>​

9:00 AM, BBBC Marshalling Yard A

Danny Hebert

Leaning back against the side of the Betterment Committee work vehicle with his arms folded, Danny observed Accord. His first impression of the guy was 'short', but that was quickly eclipsed by 'so uptight he needs the jaws of life to unclench long enough to take a shit'. Accord was neatly dressed, everything squared away; if it weren't for his habit of murdering people who screwed up his arrangements, he might have been a nice guy to know.

Well, he's not going to pull that crap in my town. If he even tries, I'll boot him back to Boston all by myself.

"The works appear to be going well." Accord sounded as pleased as he ever got. "Your Dockworkers are to be commended."

"They're good people," Danny acknowledged. "The capes are also settling in nicely. I can see them being a real asset in the field."

"I'm less than certain about Damsel of Distress." Accord turned to look at him. "We've clashed in the past. She has a reputation for instability." He didn't say any more, but he probably thought he didn't have to.

Danny knew exactly what he was attempting, and chose to nip it in the bud. "I saw to Ms Stillons' induction myself. What I saw in her was someone doing her best to leave her problems behind her and make a life for herself. She saved a man's life even before she officially started working for us."

"For capes, problems have a way of catching up again." Accord turned his head, looking at where an eighteen-wheeler had just turned in through the main gates of the marshalling yard. "Ah, here they are. Right on time. Good."

One after the other, the three semi-trailers pulled up, side by side so that their cargo could be properly admired. And what a cargo it was. Hemmed in by light cagework that served more as a safety rail than a restraint, each trailer held dozens of robots of different shapes and sizes, all looking around with what Danny interpreted as interest and eagerness.

Part of the cagework on the first eighteen-wheeler swung aside, and a lightweight Dragon suit jumped down to the ground and came over to them. "Mr Hebert," she said happily. "Accord. Good to meet you both. Two hundred and seventy-three robotic citizens, ready to prove their worth."

"Nice to meet you too." Danny shook her extended hand. "Wait, I know that number. All of them chose to come here? Just how hard have you been upselling this place?"

"I didn't need to." Dragon gestured to the robots, and they started disembarking from the eighteen-wheelers. "The consensus is that they want to learn about human society in a place where they'll be accepted for what they are before they start going their separate ways. Atropos said they'd be welcome to come and work here, so they decided this was the best place to start."

"Okay, then." Danny dusted his hands off. "I'm guessing you know all about their capabilities and their requirements, everything like that?"

Dragon nodded. "I do."

Danny smiled. "Excellent."

<><>​

1250 hours, PRT ENE Building

Director Emily Piggot, PRT

Emily sat at her desk, carefully writing on a pad with the pen that she'd been given after Ellisburg, when she'd been awarded a medal and invalided out of active service. A two-hundred-fifty-dollar writing implement, it had her unit badge engraved on it, along with its motto in Latin. Translated, the words would read 'No Retreat, No Surrender'.

She hadn't retreated, and she hadn't surrendered. She'd just been one of the only two people who had come out the other side of that conflict. Just two months previously, Calvert had met his richly deserved end at the hands of Atropos, leaving her as the last survivor of Ellisburg.

Now Nilbog was dead, and her own tenure in the PRT was drawing to a close. On the desk in front of her lay the cleaned and polished claw, still sharp enough to draw blood, that Atropos had retrieved for her. There were less than four months to go until she could announce the End of the Endbringers, then accept her own retirement. Renick had asked her in a private moment what she thought she would do with herself, afterward. She'd smiled and said, "Anything I want."

The note she was writing, a brief missive wishing Renick luck in his duties as Director—as a mainly administrative post, it should suit him down to the ground—came to an end, and she signed it with her time-worn scrawl. This was the last time, she realised, that she would sign anything at this desk. Then she folded it, slid it into an envelope, and wrote his name on the front.

Her briefcase was ready to hand, everything else she needed from her office already moved out; she placed the pen, the claw and the pad in the case, clicking the latches shut. This was the moment of apogee, of weightlessness before gravity took hold and dragged her downward once more. Turning the chair, she looked out over the city she'd striven to tame for the last ten years. Her smile was more of a grimace.

Crime had been like Sisyphus' rock, ever rolling downhill despite her best efforts. Under her direction, the PRT had done some good, as had the Protectorate heroes and the Wards. But it had always been too little, not focused enough where it needed to be, and hampered by a perennial lack of interdepartmental communication (not to mention endemic corruption).

And then Atropos had come along. If Emily was still going with the 'rock' analogy, Atropos had blown it to bits then smashed the remnants with a sledgehammer. She'd broken all the rules, made Emily want to tear her hair out more than once … and stopped crime dead in the water.

'Dead' being the operative word. With villain capes either deceased or decamped, the merely unpowered criminal element had suddenly been faced with newly energised law enforcement who no longer had to worry about costumed protectors. It hadn't helped the gangs at all when Atropos declared war on the drug trade within the city, and she didn't miss.

People had died. A lot of people had died. But in contrast to what normally happened at times like this, the deaths had all happened to criminals attempting to defy Atropos' dictates. She'd blithely brushed off Emily's attempts to moderate her efforts via Captain Reeves, and just kept on shredding the opposition with terrifying efficiency.

Two warehouses, exploded. A pair of eighteen-wheelers full of drugs, chased down and destroyed with ruthless efficiency. The boat in the harbour … she shook her head. So many idiots.

Even when the driving forces behind the criminal enterprises in Brockton Bay had been neutralised, Atropos hadn't stopped. Some had feared that she might start coming after ordinary citizens for imagined crimes, but instead she'd shifted focus. Building on the bounty for the Nine (Emily had a signed copy of the picture of Crawler and Hatchet Face in her belongings), she'd gone after the Endbringers, and shocked everyone with her success.

Now, as a direct result, Brockton Bay was on the way up and the PRT ENE was on the way down. They just weren't needed in their previous numbers, and she wasn't needed here at all. Atropos had literally killed the requirement for her to be in this city.

New York had more capes than Brockton Bay, and it had an active villain population. From what she'd heard, they didn't run quite so rampant as they had once done in Brockton Bay, and the PRT possessed competent leadership. She was looking forward to meeting them.

A new sheriff was coming to town.

There was a knock on her office door. Turning the chair back so it faced the desk, she stood up. "Come in."

Renick opened the door and stepped inside. Armsmaster and Triumph followed him up, with Miss Medic trailing behind; like the others, she was in full costume, every part neat and tidy.

"It's time, ma'am," Renick said respectfully.

It was indeed time. They'd gone over the paperwork that morning, and it was all due to take effect at thirteen hundred hours. Taking up her briefcase in her left hand, Emily stepped out from behind the desk. She'd thought over what she would say at this point—there wasn't much in the way of precedent for a PRT Director stepping down—but had decided to keep it short and simple. "You have the command, Director Renick."

"I accept the command, Director Piggot," he replied, just as formally. In lieu of saluting—Emily was uncovered, and Renick had never been military—they shook hands.

Armsmaster was next, extending his gauntlet. "Ma'am," he said gruffly. "Give 'em hell in New York."

The corner of her mouth curved up in half a smile as she shook his hand. "The heroes or the villains?" God knew she'd been almost as hard as the capes under her command as on the opposition.

His own smile answered her. "Whoever needs it, ma'am."

"Good answer." She turned to Triumph. "You'll be transferring out when you age up into the Protectorate, correct?"

"Yes, ma'am." He shook her hand carefully. "It'll be weird, not having you there."

She couldn't argue with that. "Well, whether you want to come to New York or go elsewhere, I'll be pleased to write you a recommendation."

"Thank you, ma'am." He caught her quizzical side-glance at Miss Medic. "She really wanted to come along. Said she had something to say to you."

"I see." Emily turned to the newest and youngest Ward who'd been under her command until about one minute ago. "I'm listening."

"Um, I know about your legs and your kidneys, and if you want, I can totally fix everything," Miss Medic rattled off all at once. "A few days to clone new kidneys and muscle mass, and an hour to implant. You'll be walking again inside a week. Properly, I mean. No post-op maintenance required." She stopped talking and gave a definitive nod. "That's what I wanted to say. Ma'am."

"Hmm." Emily recalled Atropos telling her exactly the same thing. At that point in time, she'd shoved it to the back burner, to think about later. Now, it seemed, it was 'later'. She looked Miss Medic over, observing her almost painful eagerness to please. "And this won't distract you from your regular duties?"

"No, ma'am." Miss Medic shook her head. "Cloning stuff pretty well runs itself, and operating on people is what I do." She beamed at Emily. "An' you've been really nice and gave me a chance to be a real hero, so I wanted to do something for you."

Emily nodded. "And I appreciate it. Once I've gotten my bearings in New York, I'll arrange for you to come down and we'll go over what needs to be done." She extended her hand. "Thank you."

Miss Medic grabbed it and shook it, her smile lighting up the whole room. "You're totally welcome, ma'am."

"Hm." Emily looked around at the bare office. "Director Renick, the passwords and safe combination are in the usual drawer. I'm sure you'll be able to find everything. If you have any queries, feel free to direct them to me. I wish you the best of luck with this madhouse. It's all yours now."

"Thank you, ma'am." This time, Renick cracked a smile.

With a nod to the others, Emily turned and walked out her office door. The heroes followed along behind, but stood back respectfully at the elevator, where just she and Renick stepped inside. The ride up to the roof went in silence, Emily deep in her memories.

When she stepped out of the roof exit, the chopper that was due to take her to New York was perched on the helipad, rotors slowly turning. But between her and it were two blocks of PRT personnel, with an empty lane running up the middle, and heroes and Wards standing back on either side. An order was barked; as one, the officers and troopers turned and saluted her.

God damn it. I knew this was going to happen. She could feel the unshed tears prickling her eyelids as she stopped and opened the briefcase, then pulled out something she'd packed for the occasion: a PRT ballcap, weathered and stained and worn, dating back to when she'd been part of the boots on the ground. Putting it on, she closed the briefcase and stepped out onto the roof proper.

She wasn't sure where the martial music was coming from, but it rose and swelled as she started toward the helicopter, her right arm snapping up into a salute and holding it. Holding a steady pace, she slow-marched to the transport then about-faced and dropped the salute.

At this point in time, other people would've given a speech. There would have been exhortations to do their duty, and to follow Renick's lead as they had hers. Emily wasn't big on speeches, and they knew all that already. "It's been an honour," she said, raising her voice so it carried to everyone. "Thank you." Then she turned and climbed on board the chopper.

The PRT officer who'd flown up in the helicopter to escort her back, a Major Halloran, saluted her as she entered the aircraft. She returned it, then pulled the sliding door shut and lowered herself into the closest seat. It didn't take long for her to get the five-point restraints sorted; the moment she did, the chopper's engine note deepened and the aircraft lumbered into the sky.

Looking out the window as the chopper turned in a lazy arc to head southward, she could see a large chunk of Brockton Bay spread out beneath her. Anyone who was less familiar with the city than she was might have missed the subtle signs of the rebuilding, but they stood out to her like bold print in the middle of a page. If she leaned forward and looked out toward the northeast, it was just possible to make out the emptiness where the Boat Graveyard had been.

Major Halloran handed her a headset, so she pulled it on over the ball cap. It cut external noise considerably and gave her a way to talk without shouting, which she approved of.

"Regrets, ma'am?" asked Halloran, his voice clear in her ears.

She thought about that for a moment, then shook her head as the helicopter forged its way southward to her new posting. "None whatsoever, Major."

<><>​

Friday Afternoon

Theo Anders

"Okay, we're here." Mr Crandall pulled the car over and stopped the engine. "Can you handle your stuff?"

"Yeah." Theo climbed out of the car, then opened the back door and reached in for the single suitcase he'd packed.

In his wardrobe had been a vast array of snappy clothing and carefully fitted three-piece suits (cut to conceal his less than slimline body shape) that his father had foisted on him. He preferred to wear less attention-attracting garb, usually jeans with a loose T-shirt. These shared the suitcase with a toiletry kit grabbed at random from the bathroom, a few battered science fiction novels that he'd managed to hide from his father, and the one item from his old life that he actually prized: a spelling award from the fifth grade. He'd won it fair and square, with zero interference from his family.

As he was hauling the case out of the car, a woman approached them. "Mr Crandall?" she asked. "I'm Marjorie Brown."

"Hello, Marjorie." Mr Crandall shook her hand. "Call me Lester. This is Theo Anders."

"H'lo," mumbled Theo, suddenly self-conscious. He'd been fine doing gopher work in the Betterment Committee offices, where nobody seemed to care who his father had been, but nobody there had used his last name. Rubbing his hand over the seat of his pants, he gave her a tentative handshake.

"Hi, Theo." Ms Brown gave him a sympathetic look, which didn't garner her much credit from him. All he'd gotten from people who actually knew who he was were sympathetic looks (when he could see them) and sometimes glares (when they thought he couldn't). He totally understood the latter, but was comfortable with neither. "Ready to meet the Laborns?"

"I guess." He picked up his suitcase. At least he'd be out of that house.

Ms Brown led the way into a fairly nondescript-looking building, and they rode up a couple of floors in an elevator. Theo was glad of that, at least; while the suitcase wasn't impossibly heavy, carrying it upstairs would be a pain. Exiting the elevator, they went down the corridor a little way until Ms Brown stopped at a particular door.

"Well, here we are," she said brightly, giving Theo a hopeful smile. He tried not to grimace too obviously in return. Reaching out, she knocked on the door.

Theo wasn't short for his age; in that, he took after his father. But the young man who opened the door—the young black man—was at least six and a half feet tall, maybe taller. To Theo, he seemed to tower overhead.

Is this a test to see if I'm like Max was? To see if I'm a racist?

"Hi, Ms Brown. Theo." A large hand was held out toward him. "I'm Brian. Pleased to meet you."

Theo suddenly realised that Brian was actually smiling, and offering his hand to shake. He took it, painfully aware that he was doing something he'd never done before in his life. Brian's grip was firm enough to make it clear that he could crush Theo's hand to pulp without much effort, but he didn't pull the bullshit knuckle-cruncher that Hookwolf loved—had loved—to do.

"Uh, hi," Theo managed, as Brian let go his hand. "Same here, I guess."

"Lester Crandall, CPS. How are you doing, Brian?" Mr Crandall shook hands with Brian next, and Theo was pretty sure there was a little bit of how-tough-are-you going on there, but the smile never shifted off Brian's face.

"I'm doing fine, Mr Crandall. Come in, please, all of you. Aisha and Riley will be out in just a moment." Brian stepped back, gesturing for them all to enter.

The apartment was nice. There were pictures on the wall, including a photo of Brian with two younger girls, apparently clowning around down at the Boardwalk. Everything was neat and tidy; Theo noted the coasters that had been placed on most surfaces, something he personally approved of.

"Heyyy!" A tornado in teenager form bolted out of a back room; she looked about thirteen with a purple streak in her hair, and was wearing a T-shirt with a screen-print of Alexandria on it, and jeans. Another, younger, girl followed along behind, somewhat more demurely. "It's great to meet you, Theo! I'm Aisha, and this here's cousin Riley, and you would've met my boring big bro Brian." Lowering her voice to a stage whisper, she added, "Ignore him. I run the show around here, and don't let him tell you otherwise."

While Theo was still blinking at that and wondering how he should react, Riley came straight up to him and gave him a hug, her head resting on his chest. "Hi."

"Um … hi?" The last time Theo had gotten a hug was so long ago that he couldn't even remember the occasion. Putting his suitcase down, he slowly put his arms around her and returned the hug. The human contact nearly broke through his reserve then and there, tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

"Hello, Aisha." Ms Brown was smiling as she said it. "You're looking well. How's your schoolwork going?"

"Kickin' butt and takin' names, Ms B." Aisha grinned widely. "Got an A-minus on English comprehension the other day."

"That's really good to hear." The tone of approval in her voice was evident.

"Just checking, Theo, do you have any allergies, or dietary or religious requirements?" If Brian found it amiss that his cousin was hugging Theo, his voice didn't show it. "If we know about it, we can work around it."

"Uh, no." Theo found himself being released from the hug, so he turned to face Brian. "None that I know of. Is there anything I need to know about, for any of you guys?" Peanut allergies (as an example) came to mind, but Mr Crandall hadn't spoken on the subject.

"Nah." Aisha answered for the both of them. "Anything I find on my dinner plate's fair game."

"What pizza toppings do you prefer?" asked Riley. "I like seafood, and Brian prefers meat lovers, and like Aisha said, she just attacks anything."

"Nah, nah." Aisha shook her head. "I'll have you know that I'm a gourmet with a wide range of eclectic tastes."

Brian snorted. "Someone's been browsing the dictionary, alright."

Mr Crandall cleared his throat. "Ah … if I can just see where Theo will be sleeping, I'll be able to get out of your hair."

"We put a second bed in my bedroom," Brian offered. "Through here." He led the way down the short corridor. Mr Crandall followed, as did Theo.

The room wasn't huge, but there was just about enough space for two beds, and room to move between them. As Brian had noted, there was a second bed there, but with a bare mattress. An equally bare pillow and linens were folded at the foot of it.

Mr Crandall looked around. "Closet space?" he asked.

"Built-in." Brian moved a sliding door to display hanging space as well as some shelves. "I'll be shifting my stuff to make room." He grinned at Theo. "I know it's going to be a lot more cramped than what you're used to, but we'll make do."

"I'll, uh," Theo cleared his throat. "I'll be fine." He had barely used any of the ample closet space in his old room. What he was used to was having his father's opinions pressing down on his every thought process in an attempt to shape him into a good little Anders clone. Brian's vaguely big-brother air, Aisha's snark, and Riley's spontaneous hug were things he simply had no metric for. "I like Hawaiian, but meat lovers is good for me too." He'd ordered pizzas occasionally from Kayden's place, and those two had been his go-to.

"Nice." Brian held up his hand. It took Theo a moment to realise he was supposed to give Brian a high-five. Feeling more and more surreal by the second, he did it.

I think I'm going to like it here.



End of Part Seventy-One

 

[Malico?]

... I can't believe you were allowed to post the entire chapter on SB. This was a good update.

Thank you for your hard work!

 

[Ack]

... I can't believe you were allowed to post the entire chapter on SB. This was a good update.

Thank you for your hard work!

Click to shrink...

Why not?

All three participants are 18+, and there's exactly two kisses, neither explicitly described.

 

[Requiem_Jeer]

Yeah, Spacebattle's reputation for prudishness is earned, but it's not that bad. Using underage characters makes things a lot stricter, but if you use adults exclusively it's pretty much just 'don't write smut'.

Side-note: Any form of underage applies the underage limit. If the characters only look underage (no lolibabas), it counts. For fanfics, if they're underage in canon but not in the fic, it counts. If the characters are underage but don't look underage, it counts.

 

[Ack]

Yeah, Spacebattle's reputation for prudishness is earned, but it's not that bad. Using underage characters makes things a lot stricter, but if you use adults exclusively it's pretty much just 'don't write smut'.

Side-note: Any form of underage applies the underage limit. If the characters only look underage (no lolibabas), it counts. For fanfics, if they're underage in canon but not in the fic, it counts. If the characters are underage but don't look underage, it counts.

Click to shrink...

I've actually gone and put an A/N up front:

[A/N 2: For those who are unfamiliar with Crystal Pelham and Anne Barnes, they are both over 18.]

 

[Kehsem]

After that, things got wild.

Click to shrink...

I'm sure there will be a smidgen of embarrassment once everyone sobers up.

Which just means that they'll have to balance that out with a repeat performance while sober. Purely for science, of course.

Perhaps a family gathering in the new BB chapel after polygamy is legalized? While Atropos forbade actual worship of herself, I imagine a few St. Mary statues are going to be found wearing fedoras and three-piece suits.

The trio will go one to spend 1/3 of their combined income on batteries and adopt a literal army of cats. After a bit of biotinkering by Amy, the now-sapient felines will conclude that world domination really is too much work when their kind is already worshipped.

 

[Ack]

I'm sure there will be a smidgen of embarrassment once everyone sobers up.

Which just means that they'll have to balance that out with a repeat performance while sober. Purely for science, of course.

Perhaps a family gathering in the new BB chapel after polygamy is legalized? While Atropos forbade actual worship of herself, I imagine a few St. Mary statues are going to be found wearing fedoras and three-piece suits.

The trio will go one to spend 1/3 of their combined income on batteries and adopt a literal army of cats. After a bit of biotinkering by Amy, the now-sapient felines will conclude that world domination really is too much work when their kind is already worshipped.

Click to shrink...

Oh, they'll be mortified.

Crystal will cop it from Sarah and Carol. (Neil and Mark will stay the HELL out of it).

Anne will just keep her head down, while her parents are Disappointed at her.

Melanie will have no idea how to handle it. When/if the Crew finds out, Newter will laugh himself sick.

 

[Kehsem]

Oh, they'll be mortified.

Click to shrink...

Honestly, not sure why? It was consensual(-ish, given that everyone was drunk). It's not like anyone broke out whips and an Atropos cosplay halfway through.

Crystal will cop it from Sarah and Carol. (Neil and Mark will stay the HELL out of it).

Click to shrink...

Do you think it's because one of the participants was a villain? Or because alcohol was involved? Honestly, of all the ways to find yourself in a threesome, this was probably the safest/most wholesome way.

Anne will just keep her head down, while her parents are Disappointed at her.

Click to shrink...

After which I'm hoping she'll rebel by going for Round 2. The Barnes family doesn't have too much moral superiority to stand on.

Melanie will have no idea how to handle it. When/if the Crew finds out, Newter will laugh himself sick.

Click to shrink...

Melanie will have vengeance (eventually). Turns out Newter makes an excellent flower girl when stuffed into a dress.

 

[Lotor]

Melanie, Anne, and Crystal is a relationship I never knew I needed, but I am exceedingly delighted to see happen.

Hopefully the three of them will be able to have a happier time once the drunk wears off and they can all sit down and decide that they might want to give it a try.

Melanie especially could use being something other then Team Mom in her civilian life.

And hey, she probably is one hell of a bartender so that is a plus.

 

[Ack]

Honestly, not sure why? It was consensual(-ish, given that everyone was drunk). It's not like anyone broke out whips and an Atropos cosplay halfway through.



Do you think it's because one of the participants was a villain? Or because alcohol was involved? Honestly, of all the ways to find yourself in a threesome, this was probably the safest/most wholesome way.



After which I'm hoping she'll rebel by going for Round 2. The Barnes family doesn't have too much moral superiority to stand on.



Melanie will have vengeance (eventually). Turns out Newter makes an excellent flower girl when stuffed into a dress.

Click to shrink...

The main reason it will be a scandal is because Anne and Crystal were drinking underage. (They're 19-20, while Faultline is 22-23).

Also because villain, but not everyone will be in the know about that.

Melanie, Anne, and Crystal is a relationship I never knew I needed, but I am exceedingly delighted to see happen.

Hopefully the three of them will be able to have a happier time once the drunk wears off and they can all sit down and decide that they might want to give it a try.

Melanie especially could use being something other then Team Mom in her civilian life.

And hey, she probably is one hell of a bartender so that is a plus.

Click to shrink...

It was more a case of bi-curiosity plus alcohol plus sexual frustration, but a case could be made for it.

 

[Kehsem]

The main reason it will be a scandal is because Anne and Crystal were drinking underage.

Click to shrink...

Is....is drinking while slightly underage, while living in a literal death world, while serving as an active member of a hero team, actually remotely scandal-worthy?

I feel like that's the thing that would only get mentioned on the absolute slowest news day only on the more disreputable news stations (such as Earth Bets version of Fox).

 

[Ack]

Is....is drinking while slightly underage, while living in a literal death world, while serving as an active member of a hero team, actually remotely scandal-worthy?

I feel like that's the thing that would only get mentioned on the absolute slowest news day only on the more disreputable news stations (such as Earth Bets version of Fox).

Click to shrink...

Don't forget: a public hero team that has as part of its ethos the whole idea of cape accountability.

"Laserdream of New Wave caught drinking underage and participating in wild orgy."

 

[Kehsem]

"Laserdream of New Wave caught drinking underage and participating in wild orgy."

Click to shrink...

~ Just as the reporter was putting the finishing touches on their latest haze piece, they felt an arm loop around their shoulder. Looking up, the journalist only had to see the fedora for a moment for their blood to freeze ~

"I need you to reword this piece a little bit. Assume we're trying to keep heroes who don't commit violent crimes from becoming the subject of character assassination, yeah?"

"Er...what would you have me write instead?"

Atropis waves her offhand dramatically at the screen, "How about 'Laserdream renews vow of public service with fan meet-and-greet.' We're in the digital age now. No reason for harmless, youthful indiscretions to haunt someone for years after the fact."

 

[Sto Odin]

Wow. There's canonizing an omake and then there's this.

Meanwhile, idiocy goes interdimensional and PtE couldn't be happier.

 

[Ack]

A Darker Path

Part Seventy-Two: A Whole New World

[A/N 1: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]

[A/N 2: For those who are unfamiliar with Crystal Pelham and Anne Barnes, they are both over 18.]


Hebert Household Basement

Taylor

"What are you doing down here?" Cherie descended the steps into the basement, shading her eyes against the single hanging bulb to see what I was up to.

"Oh, hey." I glanced in her direction and waved, before going back to my work. Using a tray so I didn't lose anything, I'd dissected a bunch of nine-mil bullets, leaving a heap of double-base powder next to a bunch of cartridge cases and extracted bullets. Using a tiny measuring spoon, I was adding a measured amount of propellant to each case in turn before tapping the bullet back into place. Some of the bullets needed to get reshaped as well, so that happened before replacing them in the casings. "Working on some bullets."

"I can see that." She watched as I gave one case two and a half spoonfuls, then persuaded the bullet to seat itself just right in the mouth of the casing. "That's a lot of bullets," she observed doubtfully. "What do you need all those trick bullets for?"

"Not one hundred percent sure," I answered truthfully. "I have a few ideas, but nothing concrete. My power's being all sneaky." I gave her a grin. "As soon as I find out, I'll let you know."

She wrinkled her nose. "Your power's weird. Just so you know."

My grin widened. "It says thank you."

"That wasn't meant as a compliment." My power and I knew she wasn't being serious. We sparred like this all the time.

"Too bad. I'm taking it as one." I bent over my work again.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes." She gave me a quick side-hug.

I nodded toward where my teleporter was recharging on the bench, next to the bowl with the towel over it. "I'll be making one quick trip, but it'll take less time than that."

"Good." She headed for the stairs. "My lasagna waits for nobody. I figured out where I went wrong with the last one."

"There was nothing wrong with the last one."

"And yet, I have improved on it." She was at the top of the steps by now.

"I look forward to it."

The basement door closed behind her. After finishing up the last bullet I'd been working on, I picked up the teleporter.

<><>​

Philadelphia Parahuman Asylum

Mrs Jessica Yamada

The sound of Earl's power echoed through the room, a continuous harsh droning hum that was clearly audible through the earplugs Jessica was wearing. He stood apart from the others, a sheepish look on his face. He could barely hear the noise he was making, but he knew it was there.

Another loner in the room was Roderick, usually known as Sadboy. The closer people got to him, the more depressed they felt. Jessica tended to conduct his sessions with her over a video channel, because no matter how much she steeled herself against it, it always got to her.

They shared a single aspect with the other seventeen people in the room: they were, powers aside, human. Nobody there had a physiology that depended on their powers for survival, and all had volunteered when Jessica had raised the idea. They, of course, shared one other common trait. Each and every one of them had a 'power' that made it exceedingly difficult, if not downright impossible, to live normally in society without either hurting people or being hurt.

Pulling out her phone, Jessica checked the time. It was almost at the time she'd agreed with Atropos, and she held up a placard that she'd prepared earlier. FIFTEEN SECONDS. GET READY.

That got their attention. Everyone there had heard of Atropos. However, even knowing what they knew of her, they'd still volunteered for this.

The last fifteen seconds ticked down, then a shadowy portal appeared in the middle of the room. Atropos stepped out of it, holding a white ceramic bowl, of all things. She strolled casually over to Jessica and offered the bowl—no, the contents of the bowl—to her. As far as Jessica could see, they were green seedless grapes, all looking alike.

She realised a second later what Atropos wanted her to do; taking one grape, she showed it to everyone, and ate it. See, they're safe to eat.

Her mind insisted on telling her that she could taste something different as she chewed the grape and swallowed it, but she was pretty sure it was her imagination. Holding up both hands, fingers spread apart, she opened her mouth to prove she'd eaten it. The minor play-acting probably wasn't necessary, but every little bit helped.

Atropos seemed to be ignoring the main group as she took the bowl over to Earl. He took one, looked at it, then ate it. Jessica knew what would happen next; she'd seen it before with Sveta. Everybody else knew as well, but they'd only been told. There was a world of difference between the two.

A few seconds went by, then the droning buzz from Earl dropped off dramatically, then ceased altogether. It seemed to leave behind it a hollow booming noise, but Jessica knew that the room was silent. Cautiously, she pulled out her earplugs, followed by everyone else. "Holy shit, it works!" Roderick exclaimed. "Can I be next, please?"

"Sure thing." And before Jessica could warn her, Atropos casually strolled in his direction.

"No, wait, just put the bowl down!" Roderick, to his credit, tried to wave her off. "I'll come and get one!"

"It's all good." Apparently unaffected by the waves of horrific nihilism radiating off him at that range, she reached him and held out the bowl. "Pick one, any one."

Roderick stared at her as he took a grape and popped it into his mouth. "How … how are you … nobody can get this close to me!" He chewed and swallowed, still staring.

"Meh. I grew up in Brockton Bay. This is nothing." She managed the exact tone and timing to draw a laugh from the remaining patients, which intensified when the sadness field just … popped. Jessica felt a profound wave of relief, and wanted to laugh out loud herself.

"Rod! Dude! You're not sad anymore!" Earl covered the distance to Roderick in a remarkably short time and hugged him, lifting him partly off the floor.

Atropos turned to the others, who were staring at her as though hypnotised. "Okay, you've seen that they work. I know that some of you are fragile and some of you have other problematic powers, so form an orderly line without pushing or shoving. I brought one for each of you."

"What about the one Mrs Yamada ate?" someone called out.

"That was so she could demonstrate that they were harmless." Atropos gestured. "One at a time. Let's do this."

One by one, they came up to her and took a grape. For each grape eaten, a set of powers just … ceased to exist, leaving an ordinary person behind to join in the increasingly exuberant celebrations. When the last grape was eaten and the last (ex-)patient devoid of powers, Jessica went over to Atropos.

"Thank you," she said simply. "I know this is probably only a small thing for you, but you've made the world of difference for everyone here."

Atropos nodded. "Like the story about the kid on the seashore with the starfish, it matters to that starfish." She touched her hat brim with two fingers. "Toodles."

And then, like the problematic powers she had come to End, she vanished.

<><>

■​

PRIVATE MESSAGE
To: Atropos
From: Faultline
Subject: Hi. Can we meet?

I'd like to talk about the possibility of my Crew coming back into BB, getting jobs with the Betterment Committee, and maybe killing the powers of a couple of them.

■​

PRIVATE MESSAGE
To: Faultline
From: Atropos
Subject: Re: Hi. Can we meet?

Sure. Stay right there. Be with you in five.

■

<><>​

City Limits, Brockton Bay

Faultline

Melanie Fitts sat in the driver's seat of the nondescript sedan, hoping that she wasn't making a fatal mistake. She was very good at what she did—her Crew wouldn't have survived for as long as it had without any losses if she wasn't—but there was the level she worked on, and then there was the level Atropos worked on. There was no doubt in her mind that Atropos would go through both her and her people without breaking stride if the need arose.

Despite their protests, she'd made the Crew stay back in Boston, keeping their heads down while they waited for her return. If for whatever reason she didn't come back from Brockton Bay alive, the Number Man had instructions to contact them in a week or so and share out her personal funds to them. While she didn't think it would turn out that way, nothing was ever lost from taking sensible precautions.

She checked the dashboard clock—four and a half minutes since the return message—then looked out the window at the city limits sign with its hand-painted addendum. 'Atropos' Hometown - if you're a villain, consider this your second warning'. Technically she was a villain, though that didn't need to remain the case. Hopefully, Atropos would be willing to listen—

"Hi."

"Jesus!" Melanie spun around to stare at the black-clad form relaxing in the passenger seat as though she'd been there all along. Her hand reached by reflex for her shoulder holster, and she suppressed the movement just as quickly. "Must you do that?"

"I kinda do, yeah." She was pretty sure she could hear a grin in Atropos' voice. "Before we get to talking, start the car. I know you're on the up-and-up, so I'm inviting you into the city."

"… oh." Melanie had not expected that. "Uh, thanks." She turned the key to kick the engine over, then put it in gear and moved the car onto the highway. Atropos didn't seem pressingly eager to start the conversation, so Melanie waited until they were moving over the freshly laid blacktop—seriously, that was one smooth highway—before she broached the subject. "So, we were thinking some of our powers could be useful for the Betterment Committee, and I've been hearing rumours that you're taking in other villains so long as they commit to no more crime."

"All of which is true," confirmed Atropos. "You also mentioned Ending the powers of one or two of your members. Labyrinth being the main one, am I correct?"

"Yes." Melanie's hands tightened on the wheel. "Her powers rearrange her surroundings. They also reflect her mental state, which can get pretty grim."

"Once I've dealt with the powers side of things, you should be able to help her attain some kind of equilibrium." Atropos sounded entirely sure of herself. "So, about the question you really wanted to ask."

Melanie froze for half a second. She'd anticipated working her way around to the topic, not having it just asked of her. Hell, Atropos might think I mean something entirely different. "Question—?"

"Cauldron …?" prompted Atropos.

Nope, she knows exactly what I wanted to ask. "Uh. Right." Reflexively, she glanced in the rearview mirror. The city limits sign, she was pleased to see, was well out of sight. "Is this why you told me to start driving?"

Atropos nodded. "So they'd know for sure that you're in my city, under my protection. Ask your question."

Melanie took a deep breath. After so much time spent chasing shadows, she had trouble believing that the Holy Grail had just fallen into her lap. "You said on PHO that Cauldron wasn't permitted into Brockton Bay, that they knew what they'd done. What have they done?"

A cell-phone rang, a tone unfamiliar to Melanie. Atropos pulled it out and put it on speaker without saying a word. A woman's voice came out of it: "Is this wise?"

"Frankly, my dear, I don't give a shit." Atropos pulled an air horn out of her pocket and gave Melanie a second to cover her right ear with her hand before she treated the phone to a blast of it. Ending the call, she slid the phone and air horn back into her pocket. "Maybe next time she won't butt into someone else's conversation. Now, where were we? Ah, yes, Cauldron."

"Was that … that was them?" Melanie knew she was well out of her depth now. Cauldron had tried to warn Atropos off, and she'd done the audio equivalent of flipping them the bird. Or maybe punching them in the nose.

"That was Contessa. She tried to put a gun in my face once." Before Melanie could ask how that situation had resolved itself—she couldn't see Atropos taking having a gun in her face lightly—Atropos kept talking.

As the car rolled through Brockton Bay, she regaled Melanie with details about Cauldron's operations. Blanks and gaps in Melanie's knowledge, some she hadn't even known existed, were filled in almost casually, as though Atropos had zero fucks to give. Still, there were some details left out; specifically, the names of some of the people at the top, even as Atropos cheerfully explained the finer points of Projects Terminus and Nemesis and others.

"Okay, so who's running the show, apart from Contessa and this Doctor Mother?" Melanie asked outright. "Because I can't see just two people making it work, especially since you said Doctor Mother doesn't have powers."

"That part, I'm not going to tell you." Atropos didn't seem offended so much as she was unconcerned. "It won't help, and they know they're on notice anyway."

"So why are they doing all this?" Melanie had been trying to figure that out for the longest time.

"To save the world. It's ham-handed as fuck, and on its own it would've failed, but that's what they were going for. Anyway, I've told them they can stand down. I've got it under control."

She wasn't sure which statement surprised her more, but that was Atropos all over. "Okay, um … can you tell me anything more? Like … what the hell are those omega tattoos about?"

"They're an identifying mark." Atropos held up a finger ahead of Melanie's interjection. "Not just to show that someone's a Cauldron cape. Look at them under a microscope. They've got microdots buried in them. Names, dates, type of vial. Dunno how much that'll help your people, but it's something."

"No." Melanie blinked. "That's … that's huge. Thank you."

"You're welcome." Atropos tapped the brim of her hat with two fingers. "Toodles."

"Wait, I—" Between one instant and the next, Atropos was gone. "Fuck." Melanie slumped in her seat.

She wanted to pull over and message Atropos to ask more questions, but the sensible part of her brain, the part that she'd trained herself to listen to, told her that there would be no more information forthcoming. What she had was more than she'd dared hope for; a dispensation for her Crew to come to Brockton Bay and arrange to have Elle's powers (and anyone else's who wanted it done) removed for good. In addition, she had invaluable information about Cauldron (including the tantalising aspect of the tattoos) as well as the slightly anticlimactic news that they were standing down, by direction of Atropos.

Driving back to Boston tonight would be tempting fate, she decided. It's after midnight already, and driver fatigue hits hardest in the next hour or two. I should grab a motel room and crash until sunrise.

But she wanted to celebrate, damn it. She wanted to do something a little wild and crazy, let her hair down a little. Ironically, she couldn't just walk into Palanquin to get a buzz on, because she was still in the process of transferring the title and the liquor license to the new owners, and the place was shuttered until that was done. But she did know of a place that was open this late.

<><>​

Friday Evening

Taylor

"Well, what do you think?" Despite her earlier bravado, Cherie looked at Dad and me anxiously after our initial bites of the second lasagne that she'd prepped on her own.

I briefly considered pretending to choke, but that would be mean. "It's nice," I said, and meant it. "Not quite the same as the way we usually have it, but definitely very nice. What did you do differently?"

She flushed slightly. "Went online and looked up recipes and suggestions. Tried a few things. You really like it?" It showed just how invested she was in knowing the truth that she was asking, even as her power was telling her what she wanted to know anyway.

Dad nodded, taking another bite. "It's good," he said once he'd swallowed. "I can taste the difference in the seasonings. Very edible indeed."

"Yeah," I added. "We're definitely going to have to have this again."

She beamed at us, then I saw her eyes glisten. I knew what was coming next, so I got up at the same time as she did.

"You guys …" Her voice was choked up as I wrapped her in a hug. "You guys are the best. You know that?"

It wasn't just the food, or the praise, I knew that much. It was the acceptance we'd given her, and the freedom to make her own way in the household.

One day at a time, she was building her own life, her own identity. And we'd be there to support her every step of the way.

<><>​

Brockton Bay College Recreation Center

Laserdream

There weren't a lot of people in the Rec Center at one in the morning, but Crystal was one of them. Her attempts to study in her room kept getting interrupted by intrusive thoughts of Amy and Vicky possibly quitting the team; one to go rogue, and the other to go civvy roadworker. She wasn't sure which notion was more distracting, so she'd come down to the Rec Center to see if a little fuzziness around her thought processes helped or not.

She was drinking with Anne Barnes, with whom she shared a couple of classes, but otherwise barely knew. It was a protective herd mentality; neither of them wanted to get hit on by guys who were drunker than they were (or more sober, for that matter) so they were sitting together to present a united front against unwanted advances. Sister support, that sort of thing.

"Hey, set me up." It was a new face, a tall brunette Crystal had never met before. "Jameson's, top shelf, on the rocks. I am celebrating tonight."

"That's nice," Anne said, turning to look. "What's the occasion?" Crystal wasn't quite sure why the redhead was drinking, but she'd been looking at pictures on her phone, giggling, then taking a drink. If she wanted to talk about it, she would. If not, she wouldn't.

"Moving back into town." The newcomer accepted her drink and paid for it, then came over to the table after giving the rest of the room a comprehensive sweep. Pulling out a chair, she joined the protective huddle. "Helping out a friend. Learned some cool shit. I won't be able to sleep, or concentrate on anything, until I murder a few braincells with high-end booze."

"Trust me," Crystal said solemnly. "I know exactly how you feel. Two of my teammates are quitting the team—don't tell anyone, it's not official yet—and I have no idea how to handle it, except by distract-hic-distracting myself with liquor."

"Teammates?" The brunette stared at her. "Holy shit, I thought it was you, then I thought nahhh, but it really is you. Laserdream, right? You do forcefields and lasers?" She took a gulp of her drink like it owed her money.

"Crystal, out of costume." Crystal put her finger to her lips for an exaggerated shhh. "Don't want to confuse th' public. You a fan?" It had been ages since anyone had asked her for an autograph. She was pretty sure muscle memory would still let her do it.

"Not technically a fan, but not not a fan either." The woman paused, then shrugged. "Actually, what the fuck. I'm going legit anyway. Faultline, but you can call me Mel." She held out her hand to shake.

Crystal blinked. Anne appeared to be giggling helplessly, even though she wasn't that drunk. "What, the Faultline? What-hic-what're you doing back in the Bay? I thought all the villains left. Or died," she added, for reasons of accuracy. Accuracy was important. Mel's handshake was firm and muscular.

"They did. We did. I left." Faultline (if it really was her; Crystal suspected it was) finished off her glass. "Then I came back to ask Atropos a favour." She paused as Anne broke out into a fresh series of giggles. "What?"

"M-my s-sister," Anne said with a giggling hiccup. "S-she's the leader of, of th' Atropos cult." She started giggling again. "Atropos doesn' like her, I don' think, but she's said nobody can hurt her." She shook her head. "Emma's such a fuckin' mess right now. Here, look."

Avidly, Crystal stared at the photos on Anne's phone, of a pretty younger version of her in goth outfits, walking around with a bunch of similarly outfitted teens, apparently spreading the word of Atropos. Even in the photos, it was easy to see the gleam of fanaticism in her eyes. In one picture, she was holding a neatly printed sign that said:

The Laws of Our Lady in Darkness:
No worship. She refutes any claim to be a goddess.
No robes or masks. We are but Her Followers, and are responsible for our actions.
No killing. If killing is required, then She will do it.
No charity theater. Do good that actually fixes problems.
No performing deeds in Her name. We may revere Her, but we must own our actions.

"Hahaha wow," Mel marvelled. "She's really gone all-out, hasn't she?" She tilted her head to one side. "I mean, the rules aren't bad. They're pretty good, to be honest. They're not telling people to sacrifice their first-born or anything."

"Not even asking for donations," Anne revealed. "I mean, people can give, an' they do, but they always give a receipt, an' they use it to buy stuff for kids, or they pass it on to a proper charity." She hiccupped again.

"I've heard of worse things." Mel got up. "What're you guys drinking? My treat."

While she was at the bar getting fresh wine coolers and another glass of Jameson's, Crystal looked carefully at Anne. "You okay? Want us to get you back to your room?"

"Nah, nah." Anne gave her a happy, buzzed smile. "Night just got inneresting. Not often I get to drink with a superhero an' a supervillain. Plus, she completes the set."

"Set?" Crystal frowned. "What set?"

Anne went to pull on some of her own hair, but nearly poked herself in the eye instead. "Hair. Ow. Hair is what I mean. Redhead." She pointed at Crystal. "Blondie." Then she waved at Mel, who was just on the way back. "Brunette. Th' major hair groups. Hairdresser's nightmare."

Crystal found that hilarious for some reason, so of course when Mel got back to the table she had to be filled in. The laughter went on for a little while; when it died down, Crystal turned to Mel. "What favour'd you ask Atropos for? If you don't mind me asking, I mean. If it's top secret cape stuff, I'm hip. I can deal."

"Nope, it's fine." Mel hit her drink hard, then nodded as she put the glass down. "That bottle had dust on it, but damn this is good booze. And I know good booze. So, the favour is that me and my Crew can come back, so long as we don't do crime." She took another drink, then grinned at them. "And she said yes!"

"Woo, congrats!" Anne tried to high-five Mel, and succeeded on her third attempt. "You're part of th' Atropos fam now. Welcome back."

"I'm part've it too," confided Crystal. "Vicky calls me up when she's not sure what's going on, an' just unloads on me like a tump druck. Everythin' that's goin' on. So Amy's been sneakin' out to do stuff with Atropos, an' now she wants t' go rogue. Coincidence? I think not!" She tried to tap her nose with her finger; it took two tries. Crossing her eyes, she went for a discreet belch, but ended up rolling one out that probably rattled the glasses at the bar.

That got more laughter, and a high-five from Mel. They kept drinking.

<><>​

The Supreme Earth (known to some as Earth Shin)

Goddess

"Highness, I ask this purely out of concern. Are you certain that this is a wise course of action?"

Bianca raised a stately eyebrow as she gave Tori a searching look. "Of course I am certain. Everything I do is the right thing to do. The moment I received word of this Atropos, I knew she was the perfect tool for my aims."

Earth Bet was technically cut off from the Supreme Earth (as was the right and proper designation for the Earth where Bianca resided) and there were many capes living there, far more than on the Supreme Earth. However, there were gaps and cracks, and information had a way of finding its way everywhere. And no cape had captured the public imagination since the early days of the Protectorate like Atropos had.

Bianca had only learned about Atropos in the last few weeks, and she had been preparing busily ever since. One such as she who could destroy the likes of the Slaughterhouse Nine and the Endbringers would be ideal for hunting down and scouring out the last holdouts of resistance against Bianca's rightful rule over all of the Supreme Earth. As the loyal enforcer of the reign of the Goddess, Atropos would of course be rewarded handsomely for her continued service.

Tori tried again; misguided though her doubts might be, she was unquestionably faithful to her liege. "I've heard rumours that she can see a trap before it's sprung, and always knows how to destroy her opponent. Their PRT has this posted up in every building." She handed over a sheet of paper.

Bianca huffed and started reading.

The Rules for Fighting Atropos

Three lines in, she looked up from the page. "Immaterial. We will not be fighting her."

"I'm just saying that she's terribly dangerous, Highness. She may choose to oppose us. And there are many examples of her predicting when and where her opponents will attack. Also, she has boasted of the ability to remove Master effects from herself."

"I know all this. Did you think I do not know this?" Bianca shook her head in annoyance. "Tell me: has my sense of imminent danger ever failed me? Has it ever not warned me of a foe before they got close enough to attack?"

Tori was forced to concede that one. "No, Highness. It has not."

"Well, then." Bianca allowed herself a superior smile. "I sense no danger in the offing. This means that either the dimensional barrier that separates us is sufficient to shield her senses from me, or my abilities are sufficient to overwhelm hers. Is the device ready?"

"Almost, Highness. I spoke with the artificers and they claim they need less than a day to complete it."

"Excellent." Bianca gestured gracefully, dismissing her lieutenant. "If there was nothing more?"

"Just …" Tori grimaced, evidently unwilling to contradict her sovereign. "What will you do, once she is here, if she then presents as a danger to you? If her powers are able to detect you, and if she can throw off your control? What then?"

"Ah." That was a possibility Bianca had not seriously considered. She didn't think it was at all likely—nobody in her presence or hearing her voice had yet managed to ignore her influence—but it was probably a good idea to humour her lieutenants in their concerns. "How would you suggest we keep her in line, in such a case?" She would not be following orders, of course, but accepting suggestions was a useful way of informing her own decisions.

"She has both a 'fan club' and a cult devoted to her name," Tori replied after a moment or two of thought. "Once we have her within our power, we can then send our agents to extract the leaders of both. Keeping them at widely separated locations, we will not even need to issue overt threats. She will know what is meant, and if she has any feeling for either one, she will comply."

Bianca frowned. "Why not simply place them under my influence? That way, they won't be inclined to attempt escape, and can urge her to follow my directives."

"Not necessarily a good idea, Highness." Tori cringed as Bianca's frown deepened at the implied criticism. After a moment, Bianca nodded for her to continue, and Tori relaxed a little. "If she cannot sway them back to her side, she may consider them dead to her and choose to give them final rest, then turn against you. I do not believe that we've seen her angry yet; nor do I care to."

Reluctantly, Bianca nodded. Tori made good points, as unlikely as that scenario may be. "Fine. Do it that way. Let me know when the final preparations are complete."

"As you command, Highness."

<><>​

NOT. A. WORD. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?

"Y-yes. Not a word of warning."

GOOD. Bony knuckles popped. THIS IS GOING TO BE FUN.

<><>​

Laserdream

"Boyfriends?" Crystal shook her head as she unlocked her dorm room door, then regretted it as the world swayed around her. "Not worth it. If you're dating someone who's not a cape, then they're either too intimidated to make a pass, or they just wanna be able to say they fucked a superhero. Found that one out early on." She growled in her throat at a few memories that popped up. "Not early enough." The lock clicked, and she pushed the door open. "C'mon in."

"Damn, that sucks." Anne swayed a little as she followed Crystal inside, with Mel bringing up the rear. "Hey, nice room. Li'l heavy on the cape posters though, isn't it?"

"Hey, you do what you know." Crystal gestured at the posters. "All signed. Perk of bein' in the biz. Bat your eyes an' say you're lookin' for pointers, and they'll sign damn near anything. How about you? Boyfriends?"

"Pfft, nah." Anne leaned over to look at the signatures on one poster, then lost her balance and half-fell onto Crystal's bed. "Hahaha … wooow. No, guys are all either wannabe lawyers or scared 'cause daddy's a lawyer. Nothin' in between. Sucks. I got needs too, y'know."

"I hear you." It was Mel who'd spoken; Crystal and Anne both looked at her, and she gazed owlishly back at them. She'd been hitting the whiskey instead of the wine coolers and had caught up to them, drunken-wise, with impressive speed. "Know what's worse thing about bein' leader of a villain team? They all see me as mom, y'know? If I screwed any one of 'em, it'd be weird. An' throw the whole dynamic off. But mainly be weird. An' I can't just find a villain guy, 'cause he'd prolly try an' stab me in th' back. So I'm alone at th' top." She giggled, but it was more of a sob. "I go through so many damn batteries."

"Here's to batteries." Crystal sat down on one side of Anne, and Mel on the other.

They dug into the bag Mel was carrying; when the Rec Center had closed, she'd negotiated with the bar staff, and they'd come away with more wine coolers. Ceremoniously, Mel handed out a cooler to each of the other two, then took one herself. The caps came off, and they clinked the bottles together. "To us," Anne proclaimed solemnly. "Friends f'rever an' f'rever."

"I like having friends," Mel said, putting her arm around Anne and hugging her close. "Y'r a good friend, for listening. Don' have too many of those."

"Yeah," agreed Crystal. "Never had a villain friend before. Orra lawyer daughter."

Anne giggled. "I'm inna cape san'wich. Hero one side," she kissed Crystal on the cheek. "Villain on th' other."

Crystal was just taking another drink when Anne's second sloppy kiss landed right on Mel's lips. Mel looked startled. Then Anne kissed her again. That one was a lot less accidental and a lot more serious. Mel didn't resist.

"Uh, I'll just—" Crystal got exactly that far before Anne's arm snaked around her neck and pulled her close. Um, is this a bad idea?

Then Mel's lips pressed against hers, warm and inviting. The last remnants of her good judgement fought a losing battle against alcohol, and how long it had been, and the way Anne was nibbling at her neck, and she found herself kissing the villain right back.

After that, things got wild.



End of Part Seventy-Two

 

[Itisn1tmyname]

This was a total feel-good chapter, and I love it.

 

[Kehsem]

Goddess

Click to shrink...

Shortly after ventilating the kneecaps of several would-be kidnappers - a gentle reminder that Atropos never dealt lethal damage to Mastered victims - the wannabe Goddess found herself the receipt of reprisal. The hilariously ironic kind, of course.

This began something on an online media trend once word spread that Atropos protected her city not just from local and international crime, but from interdimensional crime as well.

A new YouTube channel was redubbing old movies - the most popular film so far being 'Independence Day' - as 'What If' scenarios, with the actor dressed as a clear parody of Atropos (with permission granted - no one wanted to accidentally harm Atropos' brand). The short skits were proving both popular and hilarious.

International criminal gangs? Interdimensional dipshits? Alien warlords? There were currently talks with an upcoming local studio in doing a crossover with Earth Aleph's 'One-Punch Man' seeing favorable reviews among audiences.

Taylor decided that it was time to hire a PR manager.

 

[Lictre]

What Tori and her 'goddess' apparently fail to realize is that PtE already knows about their attitudes about Atropos. I think PtE is being deliberately cagey about letting Taylor know, since the opponents have a similar sort of threat-map, and by keeping Taylor unaware, the targets are bringing themselves into a position to receive appropriate 'gifts'.

The Clairvoyant and Doormaker prove that powers can operate between dimensions, so there's plenty of precedent to work from. PtE having Taylor modify ammo for what appears to be extended range without informing her as to the reason seems similar to it having Taylor make sure she had the quarter at hand before going to the park to meet Aisha. PtE's built a solid history of having excellent reason for seemingly random actions, so Taylor's got plenty of reason to just follow the occasional mysterious prompt, without having to be shown the entire blueprint and operations plan.

 

[MonkeyNinja d'PirateRobot]

The campus police had been summoned

Click to shrink...

By whom? Why? Roommate walks in, sees lesbian threesome aftermath between adults... calls cops? What kind of college is this?!

The actual cops hadn't shown up yet; neither had the PRT. The impression she got was that the College also wanted this kept as low-key as possible, so they were dragging their heels as much as possible on informing the real authorities. Moreover, she was pretty sure she'd figured out why.

Click to shrink...

Yeah, it's because nothing interesting happened that's worth police attention. Underage drinking on college campus is a) not unusual, b) not something they're going to care about in Brockton Bay, c) not something that's obvious based on bedhead, and most importantly d) not something that would result in a call to police in the first place.

This reads like "author wants confrontation over this, manufacturers completely unrealistic scenario to force confrontation". I was completely thrown out of the story by how unbelievable this entire sequence was.

 

[seeing_octarine]

By whom? Why? Roommate walks in, sees lesbian threesome aftermath between adults... calls cops? What kind of college is this?!

Click to shrink...

Americans are fucking crazy man.

 

[Xyshuryn]

PtE is a troll and I love it. He's the embodiment of "Hold my Shard, and watch this."

 

[Ack]

By whom? Why? Roommate walks in, sees lesbian threesome aftermath between adults... calls cops? What kind of college is this?!



Yeah, it's because nothing interesting happened that's worth police attention. Underage drinking on college campus is a) not unusual, b) not something they're going to care about in Brockton Bay, c) not something that's obvious based on bedhead, and most importantly d) not something that would result in a call to police in the first place.

This reads like "author wants confrontation over this, manufacturers completely unrealistic scenario to force confrontation". I was completely thrown out of the story by how unbelievable this entire sequence was.

Click to shrink...

On the contrary.

When I wrote 'campus police', I was originally envisaging campus security, a job which I held down for seven years. If there'd been a big enough disturbance in a dormitory, we would've been called in (especially by the RA).

I was informed by several people that campuses in the US have actual police on site, who actually do have police powers and do actually charge people for drinking underage and the like. (Note that George Bush's daughters were charged for this while he was President). Some cops might shy away from charging a superhero and a lawyer's daughter for underage drinking, while others might jump at the chance.

I was also informed that some places have both security and police, so I rewrote that section to intimate that security had been called in regarding the disturbance, and were hanging around because harsh words were being spoken, but that campus police were being kept out of the loop, so the College didn't have to deal with the actual legal problem that would arise if the cops started booking people for drinking underage and arresting bar staff for selling it, and all that shit. (If you haven't seen that, I suggest you refresh).

Now, there had to have been some kind of disturbance, because in the linked side-story (previous chapter) Crystal contacts Sarah and tells her, which strongly suggests that there's some kind of kerfuffle going on. Basically, I decided that some asshole in the dorm put it on PHO that Laserdream was not just into girls, but into two girls at once, and the back and forth yelling between Anne, Crystal, the asshole, Crystal's friends, the asshole's friends and so forth is what caused security to be called.

Then New Wave turned up (out of costume) as did the Barneses (same) and they started yelling at Anne and Crystal, until Melanie had had enough.

She basically reminded them that the College didn't want this going public, so if they could just shut up about it for five minutes, nobody would care anymore.

Understand now? All good?

Great. Thank you.

 

[MonkeyNinja d'PirateRobot]

If there'd been a big enough disturbance

Click to shrink...

And there shouldn't be.

Basically, I decided that some asshole in the dorm put it on PHO that Laserdream was not just into girls, but into two girls at once, and the back and forth yelling between Anne, Crystal, the asshole, Crystal's friends, the asshole's friends and so forth is what caused security to be called.

Click to shrink...

That's kinda the direction I thought you were going with it. I just don't believe it. It doesn't sound like the kind of thing that would happen. First, her roommate would have to either BE that complete asshole (and why would someone as well-off as Laserdream even HAVE a roommate, let alone one likely to be such a dick?!), or let others into the room... which is essentially the same as being that asshole. Second, someone has to be OK fucking with a cape, a hero at that, and one who's on a team with a high-profile lawyer whose sister (in-law?) was MURDERED the last time someone fucked with one them, in the same town where Atropos is flat-out executing anyone who bothers her. Third, it has to escalate to a huge kerfuffle, which it wouldn't because nobody would care in the first place. And fourth, somehow the underage alcohol has to become public because being a lesbian isn't a crime, nor is yelling at your dickish dorm-mates.

Understand now? All good?

Click to shrink...

Yeah, I get it, and I did before this post. I just find it incredibly hard to believe any of that would happen. It all seems completely contrived as a way to force an unnecessary story beat. If you want to find a way to show Faultline standing up to or even just interacting with the Barnses and New Wave, there are near-infinite numbers of more believable ways to do it.

 

[Ack]

And there shouldn't be.



That's kinda the direction I thought you were going with it. I just don't believe it. It doesn't sound like the kind of thing that would happen. First, her roommate would have to either BE that complete asshole (and why would someone as well-off as Laserdream even HAVE a roommate, let alone one likely to be such a dick?!), or let others into the room... which is essentially the same as being that asshole. Second, someone has to be OK fucking with a cape, a hero at that, and one who's on a team with a high-profile lawyer whose sister (in-law?) was MURDERED the last time someone fucked with one them, in the same town where Atropos is flat-out executing anyone who bothers her. Third, it has to escalate to a huge kerfuffle, which it wouldn't because nobody would care in the first place. And fourth, somehow the underage alcohol has to become public because being a lesbian isn't a crime, nor is yelling at your dickish dorm-mates.



Yeah, I get it, and I did before this post. I just find it incredibly hard to believe any of that would happen. It all seems completely contrived as a way to force an unnecessary story beat. If you want to find a way to show Faultline standing up to or even just interacting with the Barnses and New Wave, there are near-infinite numbers of more believable ways to do it.

Click to shrink...

It wasn't her roommate. Just someone else in the same dorm.

And just because you don't believe it doesn't make it impossible to happen.

Atropos isn't "flat-out executing everyone who bothers her". She gives two warnings first. They get a chance. And this isn't a villain thing. This is a college kids being dicks thing.

The underage drinking would become public IF the actual cops got involved. Which they didn't. The Barneses and New Wave were yelling at Anne and Crystal because they'd done it, not because it was out in the public eye yet.

You clearly aren't reading what I'm writing.

As per normal.

 

[MonkeyNinja d'PirateRobot]

It wasn't her roommate. Just someone else in the same dorm.

Click to shrink...

Even if the roommate wasn't the one who posted it, she was the one who broadcast it so that it could be posted, or let someone else in to do so. So, asshole either way. Roommates don't publicize one another's business, especially sexual business.

And just because you don't believe it doesn't make it impossible to happen.

Click to shrink...

No, but "physically possible" and "reasonably plausible" aren't the same thing. I'm telling you that what you wrote isn't anywhere near the latter and gave you five or six reasons why, any one of which would negate that entire scenario. What you do with that is on you, which as always will of course be nothing. You don't seem to care that every so often you write scenarios that are not believable by people with two brain cells to rub together, but that doesn't mean I'll stop pointing them out.

Atropos isn't "flat-out executing everyone who bothers her". She gives two warnings first. They get a chance. And this isn't a villain thing. This is a college kids being dicks thing.

Click to shrink...

Way to ignore the four other obstacles to plausibility in that same sentence. And you accuse ME of not reading what you're writing.

The underage drinking would become public IF the actual cops got involved.

Click to shrink...

Which neither they nor the campus cops would without it (or likely even with it), since students having screaming matches in the halls happens every day in dorms and threesomes and lesbianism aren't crimes. And given that TWO capes were involved in this, one of them a known villain, they wouldn't touch this with a fifty foot pole. Assuming it avoided all the other obstacles to ever getting to a screaming match in the first place, which is unlikely.

You clearly aren't reading what I'm writing.

As per normal.

Click to shrink...

You clearly are closed to any critical commentary on your writing.

As per normal.

I've said this before, but if all you want is glowing praise, don't post online. Most of what you write is pretty good, which is why I read it. But most isn't all and that means you will have the remainder pointed out if you post on the internet. Reacting like a scalded cat every time just makes you look petty. And attacking the writer rather than addressing the argument, as you regularly do... well, that says a lot there, too.

 

[Ack]

Even if the roommate wasn't the one who posted it, she was the one who broadcast it so that it could be posted, or let someone else in to do so. So, asshole either way. Roommates don't publicize one another's business, especially sexual business.

Click to shrink...

One more time.

It wasn't her roommate, because she doesn't have a roommate.

It was someone who lives in the same dorm, who was just walking in to see her.

And it was someone else who heard the "what the fuck?", stuck their head in, and went, "Hahahaha fucking WHAT?" and posted it to PHO.

Not her roommate.

As I have stated a couple of times.

No, but "physically possible" and "reasonably plausible" aren't the same thing. I'm telling you that what you wrote isn't anywhere near the latter and gave you five or six reasons why, any one of which would negate that entire scenario. What you do with that is on you, which as always will of course be nothing. You don't seem to care that every so often you write scenarios that are not believable by people with two brain cells to rub together, but that doesn't mean I'll stop pointing them out.

Click to shrink...

Have you ever done security work?

Have you ever done campus security work?

I have done both. I did security for 19 years, and campus security for 7 of those.

You saying "it's impossible" for security to attend a shouting match is bullshit, because I have attended such incidents.

I've been there. I've done that.

So yes. It is indeed possible.

Way to ignore the four other obstacles to plausibility in that same sentence. And you accuse ME of not reading what you're writing.

Click to shrink...

1. College students can be real dicks.
2. Posting that a teenage superhero is into girls (two at a time) on PHO is in no way the same as murdering a superhero.
3. Having a lesbian threesome wasn't the point. The fact that it was Crystal "no relationships, nope, nohow" Pelham in that threesome, is.

Which neither they nor the campus cops would without it (or likely even with it), since students having screaming matches in the halls happens every day in dorms and threesomes and lesbianism aren't crimes. And given that TWO capes were involved in this, one of them a known villain, they wouldn't touch this with a fifty foot pole. Assuming it avoided all the other obstacles to ever getting to a screaming match in the first place, which is unlikely.

Click to shrink...

If the screaming match is loud enough and keeps going long enough, then yes, the RA (don't know what they call them in the US) would indeed call in security.

Know how I know that?

Because I've been called in like that.

You clearly are closed to any critical commentary on your writing.

As per normal.

I've said this before, but if all you want is glowing praise, don't post online. Most of what you write is pretty good, which is why I read it. But most isn't all and that means you will have the remainder pointed out if you post on the internet. Reacting like a scalded cat every time just makes you look petty. And attacking the writer rather than addressing the argument, as you regularly do... well, that says a lot there, too.

Click to shrink...

You have a long-standing habit of misinterpreting what I'm writing, nitpicking what you don't misinterpret, and ignoring (or dismissing) my explanations of why you're wrong.

You are clearly closed to any critical commentary on your commentary.

 

[Peifmaster]

then yes, the RA (don't know what they call them in the US) would indeed call in security.

Click to shrink...

We also call them RAs, at least in some states; it may vary.
Source: my wife was an RA for two years.

 

[Lictre]

This reads like "author wants confrontation over this, manufacturers completely unrealistic scenario to force confrontation". I was completely thrown out of the story by how unbelievable this entire sequence was.

Click to shrink...

It's almost as though the story is written in a world-setting driven by irrational conflict drives!