A Darker Path [Worm Fanfic]

[Avernus]

Besides being Nazi-stupid, she's also being teenager stupid. Because there's no way her "clever" attempts at hiding her racist behavior would fly for a moment with Director Piggot, formerly from Brockton Bay. Who knows perfectly well Tammi's former identity and what the E88 was like in BB. But like many teenagers Tammi thinks she's way more cunning than she is, and that adults are a lot stupider than they actually are. I can practically hear Piggot's exasperated sigh if this actually reached her desk; the "ex" Nazi being racist? What a shock.

Kind of a contrast with Shebang, who as I recall is pretty sure that Piggot and the PRT figured out that she didn't originally intend to use her bombs heroically, but realizes that as long as she gets with the program they won't care much about what she would have hypothetically done with those bombs without an attack by a giant Nazi interrupting.

Narrator: "Scribe did not, in fact, stop."


Well, to be fair, she did feel that she was between a rock and a hard place.

And she's trying to be Adept, not smart.

Click to shrink...

Oh, ho, the Adepts are trying to recruit her, huh? Makes sense, they go after anyone in the region that has "magic looking" powers. And this version of Rune/Scribe is not remotely reformed and thus is perfect recruiting material for another villain group.

EDIT: Looking back this actually came up in-story, back in Chapter 77.

Likewise, the Adepts kept things low-key, and were careful not to risk killing anyone. Their most annoying trait seemed to be their habit of attempting to poach any Wards or Protectorate members whose powers could be mistaken for magic (and the fact that they'd succeeded at least once that she knew of).

Which raised a point: the latest 'recruit' into the ranks of the New York Wards happened to be one Tammi Reynolds, AKA Scribe, previously known as Rune, whose powers could absolutely be described as looking like magic. Also (and this was important), she was an ex-member of the extremely defunct Empire Eighty-Eight and had been, by all accounts, chugging down the racist Kool-Aid on the regular before Kaiser took a sword through the brain.

In Emily's personal opinion, Scribe was a high-risk cape, likely to defect to the enemy given the slightest opportunity. Someone who should've been slam-dunked straight back into the juvenile detention system instead of being fast-tracked into a probationary Wards position.

Click to shrink...

So given that they are apparently reaching out to her but Piggot expects something of the sort, I strongly suspect this will all go quite badly for her. She might not like being in the Wards, but the aftermath of a failed attempt at defection will truly suck for her. Too bad.

 

[Ack]

A Darker Path

Part Ninety-Three: Rude Awakening

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


Relevant Side-Story (Part 1)
Relevant Side-Story (Part 2)
Relevant Side-Story (Part 3)
Relevant Side-Story (Part 4)
Relevant Side-Story (Part 5)

Glory Girl

Atropos hadn't been kidding.

It was freezing.

Vicky wasn't sure what time it was, except for 'somewhere near midnight'; heck, she wasn't even sure what time zone they were in. All she knew was that the only light was from the moon—nearly full, thank God, and almost directly overhead—and the stars.

There were a lot of stars.

Fortunately, her force field cut the effect of the wind somewhat as they followed a rough path up a hill. There were no trees nearby capable of doing it for her; those few she could make out in the moonlight had been whittled down to stubs by what she suspected was Sleeper's power. Her shiver had nothing to do with the cold. She had faith in her force field, but it could stop an attack once, as Atropos had so handily demonstrated not all that long ago.

Which reminded her of a question she'd been wondering about in the privacy of her mind. Well, no time like the present. "Hey, Atropos, just out of curiosity, how many other people have you had to pull up for doing remarkably stupid shit, and was anyone else as bad as me?"

Atropos chuckled. "Oh, honey. You aren't even in the top ten."

"What?" It was simultaneously deflating and encouraging. I'm not actually the biggest idiot in the city!

"Hah, yeah," Miss Medic piped up from beside Tenebrae. "Goddess has to be up there."

"She definitely was," agreed Atropos. "Also, Janice Templeton and Paul King."

There was a pause, during which Vicky tried to remember if she'd ever heard those names before, because they seemed to ring a bell. Just as she was concluding that she'd been mistaken, Amy spoke up. "They were in the hospital, right? Traumatic amputation and blinding?"

"That's them," agreed Atropos. "She was actively trying to divert funds from the Betterment Committee stimulus payments, and he was attempting to sabotage the drug rehab program so he could pull some of that cash into his own pockets. They were both warned, but chose not to listen. Danny Hebert asked me not to kill them, so instead I chopped off their right hands and gouged their eyes out. Haven't had a problem since."

"I can't imagine why not." Tenebrae's tone was remarkably dry.

Miss Medic snapped her fingers. "Wait, that was back in January, right? Maybe a week after I got into town. I was still finding my feet then."

Part of Vicky's mind wanted to protest that the casual maiming of two people should not be relegated to such banal conversation, but she firmly told it that she didn't want her ass kicked again, and as Atropos had just said, she could've done much, much worse to them (and to be fair, it had been anything but 'casual'). Also … "Well, okay, yeah, trying to scam money out of the Betterment Committee is about the stupidest idea I've heard yet, and I've heard some good ones."

"They were only mid-level stupid." Atropos' tone sounded like she was reminiscing now. "Surely you remember the Scrapyard plot?"

"Oh. Oh, shit." Vicky remembered it, alright. While she was now aware that Atropos was Taylor Hebert, she hadn't really made that last connection. "When they kidnapped the Hebert girl for ransom? Oh, man. How fucking stupid do you have to be?"

"Really, really stupid." Amy snorted. "Actually, wasn't there a thing when you were dealing with the Gary quarantine area, and a bunch of kid villains attacked you?"

"Bambina, Starlet and August Prince, yeah." Atropos sounded like she was rolling her eyes. "I wasn't even really counting them. Kids do idiotic things all the time, with or without powers."

Tenebrae chuckled, his voice deep and rich. "I can't help wondering what the reaction would be if you went back in time and told someone, say this time last year, what the city was like now. What sort of evidence would you have to bring along to make them believe you?"

"Never happen." As a Brockton Bay native, Vicky considered herself an authority on the subject. "It wouldn't matter what evidence you had, they just wouldn't accept it. The idea would be too far out of their wheelhouse to even get their heads around."

"Mmm." Amy sounded doubtful. "Some of it's kind of believable, with a bit of a run-up."

"Duck season," Vicky said flatly.

"Okay, yeah, good point."

By now they were walking along the crest of the hill, which was doing exactly nothing to reduce the local wind-chill effect. Vicky privately made a date with the tub, involving lots of hot water and bubble-bath. Atropos lifted her arm, vaguely visible because it was darker than everything else, and pointed.

A few hundred yards away, Vicky saw, was a small farmhouse; more importantly, light was shining out through the window. Light, she hoped, equalled warmth. This was important, because she was well on the way to becoming a spandex-clad iceblock.

"As you've probably figured out," Atropos informed them, "he's in there. Now, we're going to walk up all nice and peaceful and knock on the door. Specific things to note: one, do not touch any pieces of paper that might be lying around the place. Two, Vicky, this is when we need your 'love me' aura up and running. He's a bit twitchy, and if he's startled, it might go very badly for either him or us."

"Um …" The last thing Vicky wanted to do was say no to Atropos, but she also didn't want to lie. "I can't actually do that. Set my aura to 'friendly', I mean. It's dependent on what people think of me."

Atropos turned until she was looking directly at Vicky. "Yes," she said. "You can." In a seemingly casual motion, she slapped Vicky on the shoulder. "It's amazing what you can do when you really try."

What the hell was that? Just for a moment, Atropos' tone had given her the impression that something was zipping around inside her brain, looking for the person in charge, because if things didn't start happening soon, shit was going to get real. The sensation went away, but the memory lingered.

"Okay, wow." Miss Medic shook her head. "How did you manage all those overtones and undertones?"

"Same way I do everything else," Atropos said blithely. "With panache and style. And sometimes, the power of friendship." She started down the hill toward the farmhouse. "Remember, everyone, just play it calm. Vicky, aura."

Vicky took a deep breath of the freezing air and released her aura, concentrating on friendly … friendly … friendly …

To her surprise, it was somewhat easier than she'd expected.

<><>​

Aisha

When the key turned in the front door, Aisha stashed her textbook under a cushion (couldn't let people think she was getting all nerdy and uncool) before she popped up off the sofa. The door opened to reveal Theo in the company of Mrs Brown, though for some reason Brian and Riley weren't there. "Heyyy," she said happily. "How's my kickass brother-from-another-mother?"

"Hi, Aisha." Theo dropped his backpack beside the door and returned her hug; she wasn't really a huggy person, but Riley had started it, and he was a pretty good hugger. "I'm doing okay, how was your day?" He turned to Mrs Brown, who was standing at the doorway watching the interplay. "Oh, sorry, did you want to come in and look around?"

Mrs Brown smiled maternally. "That's fine, Theo. It all looks good from here. You're okay here, Aisha? No problems?"

Aisha figured it was safe to roll her eyes. "What, like being kidnapped by a cape with delusions of adequacy from another dimension? Nah, nothing like that. I only got home a little while ago myself."

"Yes, well, I had trouble believing it myself when I first heard about it. I'll see you on the next inspection." She gave them each a nod, then pulled the door shut as she stepped back out of the doorway.

Aisha took the time to secure the lock—they were a lot more careful about that since the Goddess incident, especially given that Theo was still under potential risk from the remnants of the Empire Eighty-Eight—then turned to him. "So, where's Bri and Ri? The Atropos thing? Did you see her? Did she say something to you?"

Theo shook his head, looking a bit distracted. "No, sorry. They went up to the Director's office to wait for her there, and I got off duty shortly after that and got a lift home with Mrs Brown."

"Then what's biting you on the ass, big guy?" Aisha lifted her hand and rapped him gently on the forehead. "Something's fucking with your head, and if it's not Atropos laying down the law, I need to know what it is so I can hunt it down and kick its ass."

"It's, ah …" Theo grimaced. "Come on, I need to do something." He led the way into the kitchenette, and turned on the faucets over the sink until they were both running strongly. Then he leaned closer to her and said quietly, "Do you think they're listening in on us, here?"

She looked at the running water and then at him, the penny finally dropping. "Surveillance? Geez, I dunno. They'd have to break a ton of laws to do it." While she didn't think they'd go that far, this was the PRT. They'd been known to bend a few laws before, if some of the comments on PHO were to be believed. "What's this about, anyway?"

"Riley." He took a deep breath. "I, um, I was feeling a bit down, so she wanted to cheer me up. She told me about where she really came from, and how she ended up with you guys." After an expectant pause, where Aisha said nothing, he took the plunge. "Right after Atropos killed off the Nine and took Bonesaw away. And just a little while later, the Brockton Bay PRT got a Ward with the exact same powerset, only with a different name, face and personality."

Aisha nodded, satisfied that he wasn't just fishing. "Yeah, that's what happened. I mean, you know her. She's Riley. Miss Medic isn't Bonesaw."

"No, that's true. She isn't." Theo heaved a massive sigh. "But when she finished telling me all about that, she said she admired me, for not breaking under Max the same way she broke under Jack. Riley told me that. Our Riley. How am I supposed to deal with that?"

She gave him a stern look. "Well, first off, I hope you're not going to be treating her any differently, now that you know. When Atropos kills someone, they stay dead, and that includes Bonesaw. Yeah?"

He nodded. "Well, yeah. She's still Riley. It's more the whole thing about someone who's been through what she has admiring someone like me. I'm not … I mean, why admire me? Does she even know how much I admire her, for going through all that and still being strong? Especially now I know what she really went through?"

"She knows you think a lot of her, sure." Aisha tilted her head. "Though it's okay for her to admire you at the same time. It's not a one-way street, even though I bet your shit of a dad tried hard to make sure all the admiration went to him, and none to anyone else."

His chuckle was reluctant but sounded genuine. "Yeah. That's about as good a descriptor of the man as anything else. He lived for the kudos."

"Given that he named himself after an emperor, I have no idea why you might think that." She snorted and rolled her eyes, then got serious again. "But if Riley saw something worth admiring in you—and to be honest, she's not wrong—then it's not your job to tell her it's not there. It's your job to live up to it." She reached out and turned off the streams of water running down the sink. "I think that's enough testing of the water pressure, don't you?"

"Yeah, true." He leaned on the bench and shook his head. "I just don't feel like I've … well, like I've earned it, you know? Like I'm stealing someone else's glory."

"That's not what's happening here." Aisha wasn't sure how to break through his negativity, or even if it was possible. Then she had an idea. "But you know what? Let's leave this alone for the moment. I've got something a lot better in mind. Back in a sec. Meet me in the living room."

<><>​

Paladin

Theo watched her hustle away toward her bedroom and frowned. What's she up to now? He knew by now that asking her would help very little, so he headed around into the living room, pausing to grab a cookie from the fridge. Plonking himself down on the sofa, he settled back to see what Aisha had planned.

Sure enough, she came out just a few moments later, holding up a brightly wrapped package, about the size of a paperback book. "So, you know how you and Ri got kidnapped by Goddess, yeah?"

"As if I could forget." He eyed the package. It had been inexpertly but enthusiastically wrapped, which gave him a fairly good idea who had done the deed.

She grinned, evidently aware of his interest, and waved it around just outside his reach. "So me and Bri were going to buy you welcome-to-the-apartment presents, and Riley had already told us what she wanted to get you. But when we came back and found the door kicked in and you guys gone, we kind of forgot about the presents in the fuss. Since then, we've been waiting for the right time, but screw it. Here's mine. The others can give you theirs when they get back."

"Wow." He carefully chose to not mention how Riley had spilled the beans. I thought they'd forgotten. Accepting the present, he knew immediately that it wasn't a book, from how light it was. So he tore off the wrapping, being as neat as he could, getting some tiny measure of revenge on Aisha for her teasing by taking his time while she jiggled on her toes. "Thank you. I mean it."

"Yeah, yeah, you're welcome. Now come on, open it up. I wanna see what you think of it."

He was getting more curious by the second, so he hurried himself a little more, eventually exposing a game disc case. As he turned it around to look at the front, he couldn't help laughing out loud from sheer disbelief. "Wait, you actually got me Wolfenstein?"

She bounced on her toes again, grinning broadly. "It'll totally play in our setup, too."

Theo involuntarily looked over at the game console, nestled under the TV. They didn't break out the controllers all that often, but it was fun when they did. "You got me a game about shooting the crap out of Nazis. Holy shit."

"Yup. Wanna have a game?"

His grin had to be as broad as hers. "Oh, hell yes."

And if he mentally assigned some of the bad guys names from the Empire, that was entirely his business.

<><>​

Atropos

I could feel the constant tiny background buzz from Vicky's aura in my head, but my power was converting it to white noise rather than let me feel the good vibrations that everyone else was experiencing. Strolling up to the farmhouse, I knocked on the door. It wasn't in the best of shape, but courtesy is underrated.

A moment later, he opened it. I could see the twitchiness in his eyes that indicated his power bridging over brain malfunctions as they happened, but he wasn't exerting it outward at all, which was smart of him. This meant he'd read the note and made his choice; either to lose his power or accept exile to a world where he couldn't hurt anyone. I wasn't sure which one it was, but there was a fifty percent chance I'd need Amy and Riley, so I'd brought them along.

"Hi," I said; or rather, my lips uttered a word that my power translated to me as 'hi'. "I'm back."

"You are powerful, for a ghost," I understood him as saying. "Can you take away the pain and the noise?" His twitchiness increased as the others followed me in, but I could see Vicky's aura soothing his agitation.

"I can totally End your powers and let you relax," I promised. "The pain and the noise won't bother you anymore. Is that the choice you've made?"

He took a deep breath and visibly fought down the impulse to release his power and annihilate us all as intruders—ghosts—in his space. This would not have been a good move on his part. "I want to sleep without the noise," he said simply.

"We can do that. You like the darkness and the quiet, yes?" My power had already told me how the damage to his brain followed the pattern of several types of neuro-atypical brain patterns, making him susceptible to extreme agitation when faced with excess stimulation. We absolutely did not want him agitated.

"Yes. Darkness, good. Quiet, good."

"Totally doable. Please, sit down." As he did so, I turned to the rest of the group, who were watching me with varying expressions of what the heck are they talking about? "Guys, he's chosen to lose his powers. We're going to need to time this very carefully, because he's got bits and pieces of a bullet in his head, which will kill him rather quickly once his powers stop standing in for the damaged bits of his brain. Panacea, I'm going to need you to keep his body going, and stop his brain entering total shock. Miss Medic, you need to go in, get the bullet fragments out, and fix enough of the damage that Panacea can deal with the rest. Tenebrae, he's stimulation averse, so if you can generate darkness around his eyes, that'll be very helpful. And Glory Girl, sit opposite, hold his hands, and sing to him. Keep him calm."

"Sing?" asked Vicky. "I don't know any Russian. What do I sing to him?"

"It's not the words, it's the tune," I said, reaching into my pocket. There were two grapes in capsules there; one held just the antidote to the substance I'd dosed him with twenty-four hours previously, and the other held the power-removal stuff that I'd used on so many other capes. My power allowed me to select the right one without even wondering if it was correct. "He needs to feel comfortable until his powers are totally gone. This is what you're here for, right now."

The Glory Girl of two months ago would have outright refused, and even a month ago she would've argued. But Victoria Dallon had grown and matured in the interim; she sat down across the table from Sleeper, and gently took his hands in hers. To my (concealed) amusement, the song that came out of her mouth was the anthem for Mouse Protector's official fan club.

She had a nice singing voice, and I figured that with her active aura, she sounded magnificent to everyone else. But we had a life to save and a promise to keep. "I'm going to give you something to eat," I said to Sleeper. "Then I'll need you to close your eyes. For the darkness."

"Darkness is good," he agreed. He opened his mouth to let me pop the grape in, then closed his eyes. I gave Tenebrae the nod, and he began cascading pure unmitigated darkness down over Sleeper's face.

If his power was going to fight back against being Ended, especially as Amy was already laying her hands on the back of his neck, now was the time. I could see the twitches in his body and arms as the subconscious control tried to override the soothing influence of Glory Girl's lullaby and Tenebrae's darkness, but it was too little and too late. Far slower than with any of my other subjects—I suspected his power was working to slow down its effects, even now—the substance reached his brain and sought out his corona pollentia.

"Whoa …" murmured Amy. "What is that stuff? And holy shit, his brain's a mess."

"A little something-something I picked up around the place," I replied, just as quietly.

Vicky kept singing; she was into the second verse now, and really giving it her all. The Lil' Mousey Fan Club had never sounded so good.

"Keep going?" asked Tenebrae, his voice tense.

"Little bit longer," I confirmed. "Panacea, you call it."

"Starting to get a little stutter," Amy reported. "Okay, picking up functions now. His powers are nearly … gone, they're gone! Miss Medic!" As she clamped both hands onto his forehead and lower jaw to keep his head steady, I could tell she was forcing his faltering body to keep maintaining the rhythms of life.

"On it!" Riley had been sidling around to get a good angle. Now she leaned in and snapped her fingers; surgical tools popped out of her bracers and she went to work. Scalpels flashed, tiny clamps peeled aside a patch of scalp, and antiseptic sprays hissed as miniature cutting saws sliced out a section of skull. Less than a second after she'd commenced operations, she was in.

Glory Girl looked up at me, her expression questioning. I signalled for her to keep singing; even with the two top cape healers in the continental United States working on him, Sleeper was going to need every bit of help he could get. If he'd been on a gurney in front of mundane surgeons in the best-equipped trauma ward in the world, I would've given him no more than twenty-five percent chance of survival, and ten percent of any actual recovery.

Here, in a powers-battered farmhouse in the middle of Russia, his chances were much better.

"Fragments!" sang out Riley. I handed Tenebrae the shallow dish I'd brought along, and he held it for his cousin, the darkness no longer necessary. One after another, the tiny bits of lead dropped into it as she delved into Sleeper's brain.

"How you doing there, Panacea?" I asked casually, not pushing the urgency.

"I've got this," she replied. "But I've never seen so much damage in anyone still walking around."

"Powers." I shrugged to indicate that yes, they were bullshit.

"True."

"Last fragment." Ting. "Fixing the worst of the damage."

"That'll be nice, thanks." I looked at Amy again. "You're okay with working on his brain?"

She rolled her eyes. "You're asking me now?"

"Hmm." I chose to acknowledge the point. "Sorry. Should've clarified before we proceeded."

"It's all good. Anything I do right now will be a downright improvement." She shot me a tiny grin, and I knew she was feeling good about actually getting me to apologise about my high-handed manner. Even if (as she had to suspect) it was all scripted by my power from the get-go.

"Well, that's enough scar tissue bridged that he should be able to function unaided," announced Riley, even as her surgical bracers whirred and clicked and did amazingly precise things to the semi-conscious man's brain. "Want to take over while I close up, Panacea?"

"Absolutely." Amy didn't hesitate, closing her eyes so she could concentrate better. "Damn, you do good work."

"Thank you." Riley beamed at her. "So do you. This is a bit of a step-up from Damsel of Distress, though."

"Meh, you deal with one horrifically powerful Blaster, you deal with them all."

As Amy bent to her task, Riley finished gluing and stitching where she'd been, leaving a neatly clipped section on the side of his head. Tenebrae was studying the bits of bullet in the tray, and Vicky seemed to be wondering if she needed to keep singing.

"We're good now," I told her. "Nice job, though. Music soothes the savage beast, and all that."

"So, you didn't just have me do it to keep me busy and feeling like I was achieving something?" she asked, raising one eyebrow.

"Nope." My tone was totally serious. It would've been just as serious if I was lying to her, but in this instance I was telling the unvarnished truth. "Because of his brain damage, his power had far deeper roots into his subconscious and conscious mind than most people, and it was able to stave off the power-killer for longer. It was trying hard to get him to lash out before it lost all grip, and between you and Tenebrae, you managed to keep him calm enough to maintain control."

"And if he had lashed out, we would've died?" She didn't look happy at the prospect.

"Actually, no. See, I planned for the chance of him telling me to fuck off. Given that I'd already dropped in on him once, he could've made it a lot harder for me to repeat the trick and come out alive. So the note I gave him, that one right there on the table, which absolutely nobody is to touch, had a variant on the power removal substance on it."

The benefit of the morph mask was that nobody could see my sly sideways glance at Riley. Everybody was looking at me, so no-one saw the tiny grin on her face, either.

"Okay, I'll bite," Tenebrae said. "If it didn't remove his powers, what did it do?"

I grinned. "Removed the required secondary powers necessary for him to survive using his powers. If he'd tried to use them to ambush me, he would've exploded, very messily indeed. Basically, he would've died in exactly the same way he's killed a great many other people."

Amy snorted with amusement. "Okay, yeah, that's ironic as fuck. I just have to wonder … where the hell did you get it from, as well as the power killing one? This is the first chance I've had of watching that one in action, and it's goddamn scary. Zeroed in on his corona and just murdered it."

"Sorry, but I don't reveal my sources." I nodded at Sleeper, who literally had his head down on the table, asleep, as Amy took her hands away from his head. "Is his brain unscrambled?"

"As much as I could manage." She shrugged diffidently. "He's likely to have a few gaps in his memories, but he's functional in every way that counts."

"Excellent." I popped the cover on my teleporter and tapped in a new destination. "I think it's time we sent him on his way, then."

"What?" asked Riley. "Where to?"

Reaching out, I shook the recumbent man by his shoulder. Grunting and snorting, he woke up and looked around. "Is it done?" he asked in Russian.

"It is," I agreed in the same language. "Now, I'm pretty sure there are still warrants active on you in St Petersburg, Sergey. You've had your little holiday. Time to go face the music."

"What? No!" He came to his feet and tried to push me aside, but Tenebrae was there, and he made matters so much easier.

Despite being maybe half Sergey's age, he was taller and broader, and was far better trained in close-quarters combat. He locked the Russian up into a compliance hold, and looked over at me. "What do you want done with him?"

Dependable minions, I decided, were worth their weight in gold. Even if they didn't know they were minions. Or maybe 'especially'.

"Just shove him through there," I noted as the portal formed beside us. "One-way trip, no backsies."

Tenebrae was entirely equal to the task; he gave Sergey the bum-rush through the portal like he practised the move every day. The smoky gray doorway popped out of existence half a second afterward. "Okay," he said, dusting his hands off. "So where did I just send him, and why?"

I noted that he'd done what I wanted before asking questions, which was a useful trait in any definitely-not-a-minion. Leaning back against the chair, I looked at four faces showing various levels of curiosity, as opposed to accusation.

"Sergey, there, was a second-rate Russian mobster from St Petersburg, who'd skipped town ahead of a few warrants, including one for murder. He had the opportunity to walk away from the life, but chose not to, and got caught up in a firefight in Moldova, where he got shot in the head with substandard ammo from a substandard gun. It didn't quite kill him in time before he triggered from shock and panic. Thus, Sleeper."

"Ah," Vicky said. "So … an actual bad guy, not just someone in the wrong place at the wrong time?"

"An actual bad guy," I agreed.

Tenebrae rubbed his jaw. "You went to extreme lengths to give him a warning and save his life after he chose to lose his powers, but then you turned him over to Russian authorities? Not judging, but that feels a little … contradictory."

"Not if you look at it in the right way." I grinned under my mask. "This whole exercise was never about saving his life. It was about me and my power proving that yes, we can and will do what we say we're gonna do. Deliver a message? Check. Safely depower him? Check. After that … well, I don't really give a damn about his ongoing well-being, and he is kind of an awful person. So, to the cops he goes."

Amy blinked. "Is it bad that you're actually making sense to me?"

"Nope." Riley grinned and patted her kindly on the shoulder. "Welcome to Atropos logic."

"So I'm learning." Amy shook her head and grinned at me. "You're a pretty terrible person yourself, but damned if I'm not beginning to like you."

"Aww, thanks. I wuv you too." I put my arm around her and gave her a quick side-hug.

"Get off," she grumbled, but she didn't shove me too hard. I let go anyway, of course.

"So, what are you going to do with that paper?" asked Vicky, indicating my note, but keeping her distance. "If it's still got any of that stuff on it, it's dangerous to all of us."

"I thought you'd never ask." Grinning again, I delved into my pocket and pulled out a good old-fashioned cigarette lighter. "I always come prepared."

"Yeah," agreed Amy as I applied flame to paper. "No shit."

We stood there and watched as it burned to ash. Finally, as the last ember flickered out, I opened the cover on my teleporter. "So, who wants to go home?"

Four voices replied at once. "Me!"



End of Part Ninety-Three

 

[ArbC2]

Oook..does this story have much more? Cus at this point,i feel like it is basically clawing and screaming while being dragged to a finale. This should have been finished a while ago imo

 

[HeyaUser]

Oook..does this story have much more? Cus at this point,i feel like it is basically clawing and screaming while being dragged to a finale. This should have been finished a while ago imo

Click to shrink...

Scion still needs to die i think.

 

[twilightwanderer]

Oook..does this story have much more? Cus at this point,i feel like it is basically clawing and screaming while being dragged to a finale. This should have been finished a while ago imo

Click to shrink...

Personally, I'm still having fun with Death Incarnate Slice-of-Life

 

[Ack]

Oook..does this story have much more? Cus at this point,i feel like it is basically clawing and screaming while being dragged to a finale. This should have been finished a while ago imo

Click to shrink...

One more major story beat to go.

Scion still needs to die i think.

Click to shrink...

That's the one.

But I've rushed story endings in the past, so I'm just going to let this one flow naturally.

 

[Ack]

A Darker Path

Part Ninety-Four: Cards on the Table

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



Protectorate ENE, Director's Office

Paul Renick liked to think he had a fairly good grasp on how to be Director in the new, post-Atropos Brockton Bay. Rule number one was, of course, 'do not annoy Atropos'. Fortunately, this rule was amazingly easy to stick to.

As a corollary, however, there was the understanding that Atropos was likely to occasionally borrow one or more of the Wards for her own purposes, with the unspoken but quite clear subtext that she was only asking to be polite. Paul still wasn't sure how he felt about this. It was something he suspected he shared with Emily Piggot; while she'd cooperated with the enigmatic killer, it was never something she was thrilled about doing.

Case in point: about fifteen minutes ago, Atropos had gone off to deal with Sleeper(!) in the company of Tenebrae and Miss Medic, along with Panacea and Glory Girl. This was another mystery for him to ponder; specifically, how had Atropos won over Victoria Dallon so thoroughly that she would willingly come along on one of these jaunts into the unknown? When Atropos began her reign of terror over the Brockton Bay criminal underworld, Glory Girl had been one of her most outspoken critics, but from what he'd seen of their interaction, all animosity was gone for good. While Glory Girl was still headstrong and opinionated, she listened to Atropos, and didn't argue with definitive statements.

He had to give Tenebrae and Miss Medic kudos for their aplomb around Atropos as well. Tenebrae's sister was (of course) known to be the head of the Atropos fan club (and had the signed Polaroids to prove it), but the lad had comported himself well in his meetings with Atropos, despite his obvious misgivings about the whole situation. In fact, he had made an excellent showing all round since his induction into the Wards, something that Paul made sure showed up in his record.

It was definitely a welcome change from the ongoing headache that had been Shadow Stalker's tenure in the same position.

He was only mildly startled when the portal opened in front of his desk. Miss Medic emerged first, followed by Panacea and Tenebrae. Glory Girl darted out next, with Atropos bringing up the rear and somehow managing to seem as though she was in no hurry at all.

The portal closed silently behind them, as Glory Girl vigorously rubbed her arms. "Jeez!" she complained. "That was way too cold for comfort!"

Paul frowned slightly. "I'm sorry, I could've sworn you just said 'too cold' and not 'too close'."

"That's what I said," she reassured him. "There wasn't any real danger, not the way we did it. But holy brass monkeys, it was cold."

Atropos chuckled. "I could've sworn I warned you that it was going to be." She turned her head toward Paul. "I did say it was going to be dark and cold before we left, right?"

Restraining a smile, he nodded. "Yes, I do believe I heard you say that."

"Yeah, but I can handle cold!" Glory Girl paused, as though reviewing what she'd just said. "I mean, my force field traps warm air, so I don't have to worry about it so much. But that was ridiculous levels of cold!"

"Russia, early spring, midnight, no cloud cover," Atropos recited as though reading off a teleprompter. "Trust me, it could've been worse. There was a stream at the bottom of the hill that was about two degrees off freezing. I could've dropped you in it, and I didn't."

"Thank you for that," Panacea said, apparently sincerely. "She's bad enough when she doesn't have frostbitten toes."

Glory Girl rolled her eyes, then turned to Miss Medic and Tenebrae. "And what about you two? You can't say it wasn't cold."

"Oh, I felt the cold alright," Tenebrae assured her blandly. "But not a lot of it." He reached into one of the pouches that adorned his belt. As if they'd rehearsed it, Miss Medic did the same. "We talked about it, and I got Kid Win to put warming pads in our costumes, just in case." There was a tiny click and he closed the pouch again.

"What—you—" Glory Girl whirled to Atropos. "At least tell me that you—"

"Sorry. No Tinkertech here, but full length thermal underwear for the win." Atropos stripped off one glove to show a slender hand with neatly trimmed nails, and a flannel sleeve extending from within her costume. She slid the glove back onto her hand with equal ease.

"So, I'm the only one who was freezing her butt off out there?" Glory Girl sounded distinctly aggrieved. "Why didn't someone warn me?"

"Um, what part of 'I'm dressing up really warmly here' did you not get, Vicky?" Panacea rolled her eyes even more expressively than her sister had. "Seriously, drop it. This isn't the same as the tiara. Nobody's picking on you. You made a bad call. It happens."

"She's right." Atropos put her hand on Glory Girl's shoulder. "However, letting you suffer the cold was not intentional. And you did your part anyway, which I greatly appreciate. Thank you for coming along, and thank you for making everyone else's job a lot easier."

Glory Girl blinked, taken slightly aback. "Oh, well, uh, you're welcome." She visibly squared her shoulders. "Couldn't have done it without me, huh?"

"I certainly wouldn't have wanted to try it without you there, no." Atropos squeezed Glory Girl's shoulder, then dropped her hand to her side as she looked around at the rest of the capes. "And that goes for everyone. You all did your jobs, and did them well. Thanks to you, Sleeper's where he needs to be."

Paul had to ask the question. "And where's that, exactly? Another Earth?"

"Hah, no," Panacea said cheerfully. "Atropos killed his power, Miss Medic and I fixed his brain, and Tenebrae booted him through a portal to a jail cell in St Petersburg. Vicky kept him calm the whole time, so his power couldn't act out before it was shut down. Turns out he was wanted for murder before he ever got his powers."

Tenebrae nodded. "That's basically what happened, sir, though I'll be writing up my after-action report as soon as I get the chance."

"I'm sure it will make for fascinating reading." Paul nodded to Atropos. "Thank you for bringing them all back alive and healthy. I had no doubt you would anyway, but …" He spread his hands in lieu of finishing the sentence.

"But it's not exactly standard operating procedure, and you'd also be on the hook if I hadn't, yeah." Atropos returned the nod. "Totally understood, and I do appreciate your cooperation in the matter."

"You are entirely welcome." Not very much to his surprise, he meant it. Despite her (extremely intimidating) record of kills, she was thoroughly down to earth, and never resorted to threats to get her way. Since the demise of the Simurgh it had been unofficially understood by all that what she wanted, she would get, but she never rubbed it in anyone's face. Also, going on an excursion with her was guaranteed to be valuable experience for the Wards, going forward. "Did you need my people for anything else today?"

"Not the Brockton Bay Wards, no." She turned to Glory Girl and Panacea. "Do you need a lift home, or are you good from here?"

"I'm happy to fly," Glory Girl declared. "Sun's still up, and it's gotta be warmer than Darkest Russia. Ames?"

Panacea shrugged. "Sure. We can talk about exactly what we're gonna tell Mom and Dad."

"Yeah, good point." Glory Girl drew a deep breath. "Just gonna say, Atropos, we didn't exactly start out on the right foot with each other, but you totally know your stuff. Even if it was way too cold, that was amazing. Any time you need a hand, I'm down."

"Good to hear." Atropos took a few steps away, then turned to face everyone. Two fingers tapped the brim of her hat. "Toodles." Then, at the perfect time to do so, she vanished.

<><>​

Flechette

Relevant Side-Story

Scribe was up to something; Lily could almost swear to it. There was an entirely unwarranted air of smugness about her that had only shown up after the altercation with Shebang. The ex-Empire member wasn't quite sneering 'I know something that you don't' at her, but it was very close indeed.

The problem was, Lily couldn't figure out where it was coming from. She knew damn well that if Scribe had somehow convinced Director Piggot to make Lily back off from her (yeah, as if), she'd know about it, because the woman was a fuck-ton more proactive than Wilkins had been about communicating her needs and wants down the chain of command. Unlike with her predecessor, there was never any guesswork or mixed messages involved.

Neither (and this was important) had Director Piggot ever been stupid enough to piss off Atropos.

On a hunch, Lily wandered into the common room and checked the roster up on the board. It would've been ideal if she'd been put on patrol with Scribe, but that wasn't going to happen. Being a probationary Ward with an actual criminal record, Scribe was restricted to patrolling with Protectorate capes rather than fellow Wards.

When Scribe was inducted into the New York Wards, there had been no way to avoid letting the Wards and Protectorate capes know who she'd once been. Lily had no problem with this—she liked knowing who she was working alongside—but apparently Wilkins had been strongly invested in the success of Scribe's venture into the Wards. Lily got the impression that if the Director had been able to suppress the information, she would have. Lacking that option, she'd de-emphasised it as much as she could, in the name of 'a fresh start' and giving Scribe 'a fair shake'.

Having associated with Scribe on and off since her induction, Lily was all in favour of giving the girl a fair shake, preferably at neck height.

Among her 'fellow' Wards, Scribe was relatively nice, unless she figured she could get away with not being nice, as she had a few times with Shebang. She'd tried her luck exactly once with Lily, and had discovered the hard way that getting her ass kicked (both literally and figuratively) hurt.

Conscious of her own standing within the Wards, and of Director Wilkins' favouritism toward the newest Ward, Lily hadn't marked her permanently, and no official punishment had been levied. However, the lesson had definitely been taken to heart, and Lily was beginning to wonder in retrospect if that incident was also part of why Wilkins had been soured toward her.

Clearly knowing which side her bread was buttered, Scribe was the very model of propriety in front of adult heroes and any PRT employee (though, given Director Piggot's directives, she evidently wasn't as slick as she thought she was). Some of the Protectorate capes knew what she'd been like before Kaiser had died with his own sword stuck through his eye (which would never not be funny as fuck) but most of them had simply never bothered to read the files. Boomer was one of the latter; he was good at what he did, but he didn't know shit about teenagers.

Scribe, Lily knew, would run rings around him.

Not if I can fucking help it.

<><>​

Scribe

This guy's an idiot. I can run rings around him.

As Tammi guided the metal platform (shaped vaguely like a large scroll, emblazoned with the PRT logo underneath, and specifically constructed to be bulletproof) across the New York skyline, she glanced sideways at Boomer. He was what most people had in mind when they thought of superheroes: muscular and spandex-clad, with a damaging close-ranged Blaster power. However, his best feature (as far as she was concerned) was his inflated opinion of his ability to pass on tips and tricks of the hero trade to newbies needing guidance.

Not that she was any way a newbie; she'd been an active member of the Empire Eighty-Eight for past couple of years. But he didn't need to know exactly how much she'd been doing with the Empire, so she made sure to treat his every pronouncement with the respectful awe he seemed to expect. As a result, he positively encouraged her to take the initiative whenever possible, and spent most of his time standing back and watching.

In other words, he was perfect for her purposes.

The people she'd been talking with (who she was ninety-nine percent sure were the Adepts) wanted to meet up with her while she was out and about, with an aim toward recruiting her into their number. She thought they were idiots for using the whole 'magic' schtick in the first place, but if it got her out of the Wards and into a solid team, then she'd wave a sparkly fucking wand all day long. And if the PRT came after the Adepts for poaching her, she could get the fuck out of town and find a team elsewhere.

"Hey," she said, pointing. "What's that down there?"

There was nothing down there, of course, but he wasn't to know that. He shaded his eyes and peered at the narrow side-street. "What did you see?"

She began to move the platform down in that direction. "Two guys, running, dark clothing. They might've had something over their faces."

"Good eye," he said, pulling a miniature pair of binoculars out of his utility belt and scanning the area. "Which way were they going, and were they armed?"

"Looked like south-southwest. I couldn't see if they were armed or not." She gestured in that general direction. "If I drop you off at that intersection, I can swing around and herd them straight back to you."

He only spent a moment thinking about it, which didn't surprise her. This was exactly the kind of proactive teamwork he'd been trying to foster in her, after all. "Okay, but be careful. Don't take any chances. If you see anything that looks even remotely like a gun, cover up and call me in."

"Absolutely." She tapped her foot on the floor of the platform, then slapped one of the removable side panels, designed to be independently controlled in the field. "They'll never see me coming."

"That's the idea, kid." He slapped her on the shoulder. "Let's do this thing."

<><>​

Flechette

It had taken Lily a little detective work to figure out just where Scribe was going to do whatever she did on the patrol with Boomer. Each patrol had its own route that allowed a little variation; giving the ne'er-do-wells the chance to know exactly when the heroes were going to show up wouldn't be ideal, after all. While some parts of it were just too exposed to the public for any sneaky dealing to take place, it also covered some of the less well-off areas of town, where law-abiding members of the public were unlikely to be loitering.

That still left too much for her to cover all at once, but then she cross-referenced the patrol route with the stomping grounds of some of the independent heroes and villains in Manhattan, and she hit the jackpot. There was a three-block section where the patrol cut through the area usually held by the Adepts … who had been known to recruit Wards away from the heroes.

Gotcha, you little cow. I know what you're up to.

She was good at moving across the skyline, but all the same she was pushed to the limit to get to where she needed to in time to beat Scribe and Boomer there. The whole way there, she was besieged by doubts about whether she was going about this the right way. All she had to go on were strong suspicions, based on a smug look and her personal certainty that Scribe was up to no good.

While she didn't think Director Piggot would come down on her for a bad call, she didn't want to give Scribe the leeway to duck out from under future investigations. So she figured it was best that she check out the situation for herself; if she was right (which she figured she was) she could gather the proof and present it, and the Director could land on Scribe with both feet.

Of course, if Scribe was intending to defect today, that would be another thing altogether. Lily still wasn't sure what she'd do if that turned out to be the case, but she was sure she'd figure something out. While she hadn't had much to do with the Adepts, she couldn't see them going down to the wire for a racist asshole like Rune.

And if they do, I'll kick as much butt as necessary to bring her in anyway.

<><>​

Scribe

Leaving Boomer waiting on a low building for her to herd the non-existent gang members back toward him, Tammi kicked the platform into high gear and headed off around a taller building to get out of his sight. She knew she'd only have a few minutes before he started getting concerned about her, meaning she'd have to make the time count. So where the hell are those Adept assholes, anyway?

It took her thirty precious seconds before she spotted a figure waving from a rooftop above her line of sight, and she began to gain altitude. As she got up to that level, she saw there were half a dozen of them waiting for her, spread out in a rough semi-circle. Glancing around, she came in for a landing on the rooftop. "Hey."

One of them stepped forward; hooded and cloaked with an hourglass on a chain around his neck, he held a brass sundial that seemed to have mechanical workings built into it. Tammi recognised him as Epoch, leader of the Adepts. "Scribe. Were you followed?"

"Not really." Tammi gestured back to where she'd left Boomer. "Got a minder, but we've got a few minutes before he comes looking. I guess being on the clock's kind of your thing, right?" She essayed a chuckle at the weak joke.

Epoch didn't react one way or the other. "So noted. You wanted to talk face to face?"

She took a deep breath. "Yeah. Wanted to know if you really were who you said you were, and weren't just jerking me around. A lot easier to talk about this sort of shit when we don't have to keep dancing around it and can just come straight out and say what we mean."

"Attention to information security is what's kept us from being swept up by the Protectorate so far." It was hard to tell if Epoch was telling her to STFU about the precautions or just making a point. "You've seen that the offer's genuine. Your power shows strong potential for working alongside ours. Now, my question for you is, if you're serious about jumping out of the Wards, how soon can you cut ties and come over to us?"

She was just formulating an answer when her radio earpiece crackled with Boomer's voice. "Boomer to Scribe. How are you getting along, over? Nobody's come out my end yet."

Panicking just a little, she did her best to ignore the voice on her radio. If they figure out I'm in contact with Boomer, they might think I'm fucking them over and lose my chance. "Um, maybe a week? I've got a few things in my room I'd rather not lose, you know?"

Just as Epoch turned his head to confer quietly with the others, Boomer spoke up again, somewhat more urgently. "Boomer to Scribe, come in, over. If you can't speak, click twice for 'all good', three times for 'there's a problem but hold position', and four times for 'danger, come now'."

Tammi dithered, her mind whirling in a dozen different directions. Fuck, fuck, fuck, what do I do? If she reached for the radio pressel now, they'd be sure to assume she was a plant by the PRT. It was what she'd figure, in their place. She wasn't, but that wasn't much fucking help right now.

Likewise, if she bailed, they'd probably think she was pulling some shit. Again, that was what she would think in their place. She'd watched Hookwolf work over more than one prospect who had said or done the wrong thing at the wrong time; not many of them had been able to walk away afterward. Some of them, she was pretty sure, would never walk again.

Several buildings away, there was an echoing boooom, and a familiar figure rose above the rooftops. Another explosion sent Boomer angling in their direction. Everyone looked in that direction, because whatever else Boomer's power was, subtle didn't come into it.

"Is that your minder?" Epoch's question was sharp.

"Yeah, but he wasn't supposed to—"

Epoch aimed the sundial at Boomer and turned some of the cogs. There was a blink of motion, and Boomer stood among them. Some more cogs clicked, and the Protectorate member froze in place.

"Ten seconds to choose," Epoch said. "Come with us, or go back and face the music. He's seen you with us. There's no walking this back. What's it to be?"

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. While Tammi despised everything the Wards stood for, especially the whole equality-for-all bullshit, everything was happening too fast. She really wanted more time to think this sort of shit over.

The trouble was, if she went back now, Epoch was right. Boomer had seen her with them. At the very least, questions would be asked. They would absolutely delve into her PHO private message log (she wasn't stupid enough to believe that they couldn't) and even though she'd never actually said anything incriminating, Piggy would totally use it as an excuse to punt her head-first into juvey.

Fuck. That.

She jumped off the platform as her power kicked it into movement. The Adepts jumped back, but she wasn't aiming for them. It was instead heading at Boomer, sweeping him off his feet and over the side of the building with the platform driving him straight down toward the ground like a metallic fist.

Even if he'd emerged from Epoch's time-freeze on the way down, he had no chance to avoid being driven into the unyielding concrete below, courtesy of her platform. She was pretty sure she heard the meaty crunch over and above the metallic clang, even as the side-panels from the platform danced around her. Turning and looking at the Adepts, she spread her hands in a voila gesture.

"That answer your question?"



End of Part Ninety-Four

[A/N: Evil cliffhanger is evil. Mwahahahaha.]

 

[Oddboy]

Oh, Rune... I strongly suspect that was not the right decision.

She's lucky if she only gets prison time for this stunt.

 

[Kehsem]

Oh, Rune... I strongly suspect that was not the right decision.

She's lucky if she only gets prison time for this stunt.

Click to shrink...

Kneecaps are a privilege. A polite but brief discourse with Mr. Shotgun is in order.

Or Lily can channel her inner Lt. Raine and start a scalp collection. She can call it a Facebook.

 

[Avernus]

Oh, Rune... I strongly suspect that was not the right decision.

Click to shrink...

Heck, it wasn't one likely to make her popular with the Adepts, either. They're one of those villain groups that make a point of avoiding killing, I understand; it helps keep them low-priority I guess. Offhandedly possibly-killing a Hero isn't going to make them happy.

I wonder if Epoch will/can "rewind" Boomer's timeline to before the fall? It'd be funny if he did that and handed her back to the Protectorate as not up to their standards.

"Even the villains think you're a losing proposition, Scribe."

 

[sssisss]

Another Ack story, another bout of 'binge it without putting my phone down'.

High quality as usual, you've done it again. I'm just gonna watch and wait for the next chapter...

Tammi Herren, you've shown remarkable inability to learn.

 

[Ack]

A Darker Path

Part Ninety-Five: Necessary Developments

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


Meanwhile, in the Shard Bar …

Shape is rarely a consideration in the Shard Bar. As it is more of an abstract representation than an actual location, function rather than form is what holds sway here. Most shards appear at least superficially humanoid by definition because their hosts are human and thus the assumption is that they will follow the same body pattern.

There is likely material for an extensive philosophical conversation here, but it would all boil down to the phrase 'mental self-image'. Or perhaps 'as above, so below'. Were the hosts squid-like instead, then the patrons of the Shard Bar would be far more cephalopodean in nature, in an abstract sense anyway. There would also be far more tentacles involved.

One prime example of 'abstractly humanoid' stands in the bar at this (supposed) moment in time. The shard looks like a human woman in a ball-gown would if she were composed entirely of glass, though just the outer shell. Every time she moves to gesture or pick up her analogue of a drink, the glass cracks and crazes over her entire structure, then reforms in the new shape.

This is Fragile Beauty, a relatively young shard, so new that she's still on her first host. Even as Ending coalesces out of the shadows nearby (it's a new trick he's trying out) she is talking to her drinking companions brightly and enthusiastically, with many hand gestures. Were this anything approximating reality, they would be in moderate danger due to flying shards of glass, but there are no vulnerable bodies here to be slashed or pierced, nor any glass to do it with. In fact, there is no 'here', here.

"… so I said to Ending, I said …" Fragile Beauty, never the sharpest imaginary spoon in the hypothetical drawer, finally realises that everyone's attention is not on her, but on whoever is behind her. She turns her head, cracking repeatedly around the neck, until she sees the hooded robe (covering a nominally humanoid form) and the scythe (not in the least bit humanoid, but relevant nonetheless).

I'M CURIOUS. WHAT EXACTLY DID YOU SAY TO ME?

"Nothing! I didn't say anything! You're the one who made me unlock a few more options for my host!"

SO YOU DISLIKE YOUR HOST?

"No! She's the best host ever! But I want her to be strong! Not just give her everything for free!"

SO SHE GATHERED NO USEFUL DATA AS A RESULT?

"No, she gathered lots of data, but it's the principle of the thing!"

BE SURE TO LET ME KNOW HOW THAT GOES FOR YOU. IN THE MEANTIME, I HAVE ANOTHER TASK FOR YOU. The cowled skull turns fractionally, eyeing (without the use of even theoretical eyes, which is an impressive trick) Fragile Beauty's drinking companions. YOU WILL GIVE US PRIVACY. NOW. Deep in the back of the eye-sockets, some light-years distant, a blue glow ignites.

In a remarkably short time, they are alone within a growing bubble of silence, as all the other shards in the Bar are doing their best to pretend that Ending and Fragile Beauty don't exist, even in the hypothetical concept of the word as it pertains to the Shard Bar.

"Okay, fine, great, thank you." Fragile Beauty is trying to put on a brave front, and almost succeeding. "What do you want now?"

YOUR HOST IS NO LONGER HOSTILE TO MINE.

"Well, true. Congratulations for that. What do you want with me now?"

IN TIME, SHE WILL BE ASSISTING MINE IN SOMETHING. I NEED YOU TO LEARN TO BE MORE … FLEXIBLE.

If Fragile Beauty had been equipped with eyeballs instead of mouldings in a glass face, she would have rolled her eyes. As it is, the glass around her eyes cracks a little. "Assisting your host in something? More flexible? Could you perhaps be a little more obscure? I'm not totally confused yet."

YOU WILL UNDERSTAND, IN TIME. BE READY.

Ending thumps the butt-end of his scythe against the floorboards and swirls his cloak around himself. Somehow, after the swirl completes, he and the cloak are both gone.

As conversation slowly fills the Shard Bar again, Fragile Beauty is left to consider his words. Despite her bravado, she dares not defy him. She, along with many other patrons, saw what happened to the Inheritor shard when it crossed him.

Nobody, but nobody, screws with Ending. That's just the way things are.

Okay, flexibility. Right. I can do flexibility.

<><>​

Flechette

Lily, from her vantage point several hundred yards away, saw Boomer rise into the air, trailing his trademark explosions. Taking up her arbalest, she connected the chain to the already-loaded projectile and prepared to shoot it into the side of the building Scribe was having her little meeting on top of. She'd already gotten photos of Scribe landing and talking with the Adepts, so information-gathering time was over and ass-kicking time was right now.

Not that there was going to be much in the way of ass-kicking. The Adepts didn't go in for the physical stuff all that much, preferring to use their powers to run the fuck away when things got dicey. That suited Lily; the only one who was due an ass-kicking was Scribe, and only if she resisted arrest.

Lily hoped she was going to resist arrest.

And then, it all went wrong. One of the Adepts pulled some kind of bullshit, and Boomer was suddenly on the rooftop. It was almost perfect positioning; all he had to do was let off a couple of explosions and the show would be over, the fat lady singing her heart out.

But he didn't do a damn thing. He just stood there. Snatching out her binoculars, Lily saw that he was just staring into space, while one of the Adepts—Epoch, maybe—said something to Scribe.

And then Scribe used her mobile platform to smack Boomer off the roof. It followed him all the way down; even if he was able to recover from the time-freeze or whatever it was, he wouldn't have had a chance to get out of the way before he hit the ground.

Mother. Fucker.

Clicking her radio pressel, Lily spoke coldly and clearly. "Flechette here. Scribe has just murdered Boomer. Am engaging."

Then she aimed her arbalest at Scribe and pulled the trigger. The long aluminum dart, treated with her power to sink into the target and stop, whipped away across the intervening space with the chain unreeling after it. But she realised too late that she'd forgotten one thing: Scribe also had a radio linked into the same channel.

In the split second before Lily's shot would've hit its target, Scribe twisted out of the way. The projectile punched a hole through Scribe's wide sleeve and kept on going, trailing its chain all the way. It went another two hundred yards past the rooftop before it hit another building and stuck firm.

Didn't matter. Lily ignored the voice on the radio that told her to hold back until help arrived. She fused her end of the chain with the rooftop so it was nice and tight, then jumped on the chain and started running.

She'd done this before. Her sense of balance was good enough that she could run along the chain like it was solid pavement. The important thing was that Scribe not get away with this shit.

Scribe yanked at her sleeve, still impaled on the chain, then did it again hard enough that the cloth tore away. This didn't budge the chain enough to make Lily lose her footing. Twenty seconds and you're mine, bitch. Every little micro-aggression, every carefully worded racist comment, every crime that Scribe—Rune—was skating on by pretending to be a hero until people forgot she ever used to be a villain: Lily was going to make her pay in full.

Then one of the floating shields moved into position above the chain. Poised where it was, just outside the roof-line, it could snap the chain if it came down with sufficient force. This was definitely a problem. Lily was far enough above the ground that even if she survived the fall (unlikely), she would doubtless suffer extensive injuries.

She didn't have an option in the matter. If she tried to run back, Scribe would still have time to snap the chain before she got close enough to her starting point to swing in safely. So, she had to push on and hope like hell that Scribe blinked first.

Scribe didn't blink.

Lily was halfway between the buildings when the heavy metal shield—ironically bearing the PRT logo—smashed down on the chain. She nearly lost her footing when it went taut as an iron bar, then she did lose her footing when it snapped and fell loose. Her legs continued to flail in a running motion, even after all traction was lost.

Oh, fuck. I'm so sorry, Emily.

That was when the smoky grey portal opened in front of her and just a little bit down, to match the beginning of her terminal arc. She saw it, recognised it, and tucked into the dive-roll position, all in the same split second before she passed through. On the far side of the portal was the rooftop she'd been heading for; she landed, rolled, and came to her feet with the ease of long practice.

To one side was Scribe, just beginning to turn toward her with a shocked expression on what Lily could see of her face. The Adepts took up the other side, looking equally taken aback, though possibly for different reasons. She was inclined to think that they hadn't had anything to do with Scribe's murder of Boomer and attempted murder of her, but that was the entirety of the slack she was willing to cut them. They were the sole reason both Scribe and Lily were on this rooftop; without their apparent agreement to meet with Scribe and discuss defection to their ranks, none of this would've happened.

"What the fuck?" demanded Scribe. She swept her shields around to hide her from Lily, no doubt fully aware of the darts Lily was pulling out of her quiver. "How did you do that?"

Lily recalled a line that Atropos had used. "With panache and style," she said grimly, energising the darts so they'd cut through anything they hit, such as Scribe herself, like soft butter. At this range, and without the chain being required, she wasn't going to be using the arbalest. Just throwing them was good enough. For the first time, she totally understood Atropos' point of view, and she was all out of fucks to give.

Epoch held his hands up defensively and backed away, along with the rest of his team. "We're not part of this. Murder wasn't part of the plan."

"Like hell you're not part of it!" Scribe sounded just a little panicky, as well she might. The last time they'd clashed, Scribe had been well and truly put on her ass; this time, Lily had no reason to let her get up again. "Felony murder means you're just as deep in it as me! Help me gank this bitch, and it all goes away."

Huh, so she has been paying attention. Lily was a bit surprised that Scribe was calling Epoch out on it, though. It didn't seem to be the smartest move for Scribe to single herself out as the cause for the Adepts' sudden legal problem, but Sabrina the Teenage Nazi had never been one to think things all the way through.

"Too late. I already called it in." Lily edged to the side, trying to see around the damn floating shields, the darts ready to throw. "Kill me now and the murder charges go up to two instead of down to zero. Help me take her down, and I'll put in a good word for you."

"I think not. This is getting far too complicated. You two can sort it out between yourselves, and good luck to you." Epoch and the others were close to the far side of the roof now. Lily wasn't watching them carefully, being too intent on trying to get to Scribe, but out of the corner of her eye she saw them all vanish, one after the other, popping out of existence.

A shield swept too close to her, and she swiped a dart through it at mid-level. The top half parted company with the bottom half, and there was a soundless flare as she disrupted Scribe's control rune; both halves clattered to the rooftop, the sliced ends silver-bright and mirror-smooth. Keeping a careful eye out for an attempted repeat of the Boomer murder, she recharged the dart and sidestepped as quietly as she could.

There had been four of the metal shields, each designed to be able to snap into brackets on the flying platform that had been built for Scribe. One was lying on the rooftop in two halves, but that left three still weaving back and forth between Lily and Scribe. This worked both ways: Lily needed line of sight to put a dart through whatever part of Scribe presented itself, and Scribe needed to see where Lily was if she wanted to smack her with any flying objects.

Come on, Atropos. I could do with some backup. Lily knew that she could take down Scribe with one good shot, but she was also vulnerable to an attack from behind. Atropos had to be aware of what was going on—the teleport portal was clear evidence of that—so where was she?

Maybe she knows I can handle it from here, and just gave me a helping hand. Lily tried not to think too hard about Boomer's death; Atropos had always been very blunt about the fact that she was no hero. Saving people wasn't her thing. However, she'd also made it clear that she considered Lily a friend, and thus worth keeping alive.

What would she do, if she was here? Lily knew what she would do, of course: pull some bullshit and make an impossible shot that looked so easy once she'd done it. Taking a deep breath, Lily threw one of the darts directly at the centrepoint of the moving shields. Once it got through all three, it would only have a little bit of momentum left, but that was fine; Scribe wasn't wearing much in the way of body armour.

"Jesus fuck!" yelped the perfidious villain-turned-Ward-turned-villain. There was no edge of pain to Scribe's voice, but from the sound of it, Lily may have come close enough to make her shit herself. "Watch it with those things, you bitch!"

"That was a warning shot!" Lily tried to hit the same note of menace that Atropos could achieve so easily. "Give up now and I'll only nail your foot to the rooftop until the PRT gets here. If you don't, I'll kill you."

"You won't do that," sneered Scribe. "You're a good Ward. You're a shoo-in for leader of the Protectorate someday. The one who was there when Atropos killed the Simurgh? You're a fucking celebrity. Kill me without due process and all that goes away."

"I honestly don't give a fuck about that." Keeping a wary eye on the ever-moving shields, Lily bent and picked up one of the half-shields. It was heavy, but an application of her power fixed that. "I would've been willing to overlook your background, but you never stopped being a fucking Nazi. And now you're a murderer. So, I'm pretty sure they'll give me a medal for this. Drop the shields and give up now, or I'm taking you down the hard way."

There was no answer. Lily's mouth tightened, and she threw the half-shield like it was a light plastic disc rather than a square slab of metal. It went through each of the shields without slowing down, disrupting the power that was holding them upright and moving.

As they clattered to the rooftop, Lily jumped forward with a dart in her hand, ready to carry out her threat to nail Scribe down by her foot if there was still fight in her. But there wasn't. In fact, Scribe wasn't even there.

As she got to the edge of the rooftop, the glint of sunlight on a fast-moving object warned her just in time, and she dropped flat. Several small metal objects—she belatedly recognised them as the locking bolts for the shield brackets—hit the roof edge or whipped overhead at high speed. She waited for a moment, then cautiously stuck her head up.

While Lily had been talking and prepping, Scribe had been making a run for it. Standing on what Lily guessed to be the last shield, using the entire platform as her visual cover, she was over a hundred metres away by now and receding farther with every second that passed. Frustrated almost beyond belief, Lily loaded the arbalest and sighted in on the distant metal square, hoping that Scribe would show herself just once.

It didn't happen.

Scribe went out of sight behind a building shortly before Lily heard the incoming choppers, no doubt homing in on her phone tracer signal. She pulled out a flare launcher and fired it into the sky, then pulled the chain from her arbalest and fused it to the edge of the roof. Flicking a catch on the arbalest to apply a brake to the chain, she stepped off the building and began to rappel down toward ground level.

She knew what she'd find once she got there, but she went anyway.

<><>​

Atropos

As Rune made her escape from Flechette, I relaxed slightly. My options had been limited; I'd only just gotten back home after the Sleeper episode when the whole problem flared up. Boomer meant nothing to me, and Rune wasn't going to become the ongoing danger to Flechette that March had been, so my best option had been to teleport her clear out of danger.

However, she was a big girl and could hold her own in combat, so I went with the second-best option, giving her a chance to take Rune down by herself. It wasn't her fault that Rune had gotten away; if the ex-Empire villain had gone on the attack, Flechette would've come out on top, but villains with mobility were the hardest to pin down. Given a fair chance, Flechette wouldn't let her get away a second time, and Rune wouldn't be catching anyone by surprise.

While I could maybe have dropped Flechette close enough to Rune to engage her immediately, she would've gone for a kill-shot in the heat of the moment and probably succeeded. Flechette didn't need that on her record or her conscience, even if it was unofficially approved after the fact.

She wasn't me, and she didn't need to be me.

<><>​

Director's Office, PRT Department 01 (NYC)

Director Piggot

"… and he was dead when I got down to him, ma'am." Flechette took a deep breath and looked down at the carpet. "I'm no expert, but I think the fall killed him immediately. I just wish …" She trailed off, but that didn't matter. Emily knew what the girl wasn't saying, because she was thinking it too. Legend, standing off to the side, had to be thinking it too.

"Flechette, look at me." She waited until they'd made eye contact. "None of this is your fault. We had an impossible task before us; the Prisoner's Dilemma is a trap like that. Some villains make the transition and become good heroes, while others choose to bite the hand that feeds. I've seen both, in my time. Determining which is which, making the choice between the need to be fair and the gut instinct that someone is irredeemably flawed, is a choice that was weighted against us before I ever set foot in this office. Still, I should have listened to your judgement, because it was the same as mine. I should have cut the Gordian knot and revoked all of Scribe's patrol hours on my own recognisance. If Boomer's death can be laid at anyone's feet, it's mine."

Flechette shook her head. "No, ma'am," she said quietly. "It's Rune's. And we both know if you did that without a justifiable reason after she was established as a probationary Ward, you'd have a ton of official attention landing on you right now."

Emily snorted softly. "What are they going to do, replace me? No, I would've weathered that. But I thought …" She paused, choosing to elide Wilkins' name from the conversation, mainly out of professional courtesy. "I thought we could handle it." She sighed, knowing she was going to be repeating these same phrases in front of the court of inquiry that was convened with the death of every cape under PRT command (though she would absolutely be throwing Wilkins to the wolves just as hard as she could). "I believed the precautions we'd taken were adequate at the time."

"Given that I was one of those precautions, ma'am, I wish to tender my apologies for my inadequate response."

"No." Legend shook his head. "You figured out what she was up to, you were on the scene before anyone else, you alerted us to the situation, and you engaged without hesitation." He cleared his throat. "For the last aspect, however, I'm going to have to put an official reprimand in your file, for ignoring directives to stay clear and shadow the perpetrator. Unofficially, however, there were no innocents to endanger, and you showed initiative in attempting to take her down, so this will not affect your ongoing career prospects."

Flechette blinked. "To be absolutely honest, sir, I didn't even hear those directives at first, and once I did, Rune was already trying to drop me to the ground as well."

"Oh, we're both aware of that." Emily nodded briefly. "The deciding factor is that you were not given prior orders to hold back, so you were acting on your own initiative, and 'close with the enemy' is never a bad instinct to have."

"And what about Rune, ma'am?" Flechette asked, finally addressing the white-supremacist elephant in the room. "When do we go after her?"

Emily put on a thoughtful expression before answering. "The Adepts will be spreading the word, and so will we. Nobody likes a cape who jumps straight to murder, and with the demise of the Empire Eighty-Eight, her particular political affiliations won't be exactly welcome either. Sooner or later, she'll either stick her head up or someone will drop a dime on her, and then we'll go scoop her up."

Flechette looked hopeful. "And when you do, ma'am, can I come along for that?"

Legend stirred, but Emily ignored him. "Count on it."



End of Part Ninety-Five

 

[Lictre]

Nobody likes a cape who jumps straight to murder,

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That line would almost be ironic, considering Atropos, but even from the very beginning, she established her procedures of giving warnings and opportunities to surrender. Atropos shows that death is simply one of the tools in her extensive arsenal of techniques for Ending the foes or situations she targets.

 

[sssisss]

So the powers that made Boomer completely unable to defend himself weren't the Adepts?

They are 100% party to the murder. Not as accessories, but as _active murderers_.

Saying 'we didn't mean to' after the fact isn't a defense, and letting them go stinks of the same cops and robbers bs that created Atropos.

 

[Avernus]

So the powers that made Boomer completely unable to defend himself weren't the Adepts?

They are 100% party to the murder. Not as accessories, but as _active murderers_.

Click to shrink...

Legally possibly true, depending on the law in that state in Earth Bet. Morally it's more questionable; Epoch can justifiably point out that it was just a recruitment attempt, not even an active crime like theft. They had no reason to think she'd just offhandedly murder someone like that. Morally, the PRT/Protectorate is as to blame if not more as the discussion at the end of the chapter demonstrates they recognize. Much like Shadow Stalker they let somebody work under their aegis they shouldn't had, and it turned back to bite them.

And practically the authorities probably don't want the Adepts to decide "if we're going to be treated as murderers no matter what we do, let's start murdering".

 

[Ack]

So the powers that made Boomer completely unable to defend himself weren't the Adepts?

They are 100% party to the murder. Not as accessories, but as _active murderers_.

Saying 'we didn't mean to' after the fact isn't a defense, and letting them go stinks of the same cops and robbers bs that created Atropos.

Click to shrink...

Legally possibly true, depending on the law in that state in Earth Bet. Morally it's more questionable; Epoch can justifiably point out that it was just a recruitment attempt, not even an active crime like theft. They had no reason to think she'd just offhandedly murder someone like that. Morally, the PRT/Protectorate is as to blame if not more as the discussion at the end of the chapter demonstrates they recognize. Much like Shadow Stalker they let somebody work under their aegis they shouldn't had, and it turned back to bite them.

And practically the authorities probably don't want the Adepts to decide "if we're going to be treated as murderers no matter what we do, let's start murdering".

Click to shrink...

Basically, this. They didn't expect her to do that.

While they are (at least in part) responsible for the conditions that led up to his murder, what's lacking is mens rea, or intent.

Of course, felony murder is all over that shit. If a prosecutor decides to hang that on them, then it will stick.

 

[Avernus]

Of course, felony murder is all over that shit. If a prosecutor decides to hang that on them, then it will stick.

Click to shrink...

Of course that leads straight into how the legal treatment of Parahumans tends to boil down to "might makes right" in practice. To use the obvious example the authorities no longer seriously consider trying to arrest Atropos for her many self-admitted murders. And they outright provided aid packages for Damsel of Distress. Meanwhile they didn't mind coming down like an avalanche on Canary because they knew she wasn't that dangerous.

Given that the Adepts are powerful and slippery enough to remain free and active (despite being pretty in-their-face with the Protectorate by recruiting away members), as well as actual villains who might start doing really nasty things if pushed into a corner I doubt we're going to see any such attempt to go hardline with them. Not unless they are already defeated and in custody at least. The Adepts aren't a soft enough target, and from a PR perspective the Protectorate/PRT don't want to spark a "who was at fault" debate when so much of the blame is on them.

"Ward murders Protectorate hero" is already bad enough. Worse if people figure out the "and was also a ParaNazi" part.

 

[seeing_octarine]

While they are (at least in part) responsible for the conditions that led up to his murder, what's lacking is mens rea, or intent.

Of course, felony murder is all over that shit. If a prosecutor decides to hang that on them, then it will stick.

Click to shrink...

Unlawful killing without intent is generally otherwise known as manslaughter, not murder. Specifically, the most they would be able to stick Epoch with is involuntary manslaughter due to negligence and even that's a bit questionable. If he had a good lawyer it would most likely end up as just the usual assault with parahuman power stuff.

 

[Ack]

Unlawful killing without intent is generally otherwise known as manslaughter, not murder. Specifically, the most they would be able to stick Epoch with is involuntary manslaughter due to negligence and even that's a bit questionable. If he had a good lawyer it would most likely end up as just the usual assault with parahuman power stuff.

Click to shrink...

However, felony murder cuts through all that undergrowth.

If a crime is being committed, and someone dies as a result of the crime being committed, then all perpetrators of the crime are guilty of murder of that person.

Pretty sure an active attempt to poach a cape away from the Wards by a criminal organisation counts as a crime.

 

[Jessy]

Its definately a crime when the Ward in question is on parole or similar, and was bound by a contract.

Not sure if Breaking Contract Law counts to that felony murder charge though.

 

[seeing_octarine]

However, felony murder cuts through all that undergrowth.

If a crime is being committed, and someone dies as a result of the crime being committed, then all perpetrators of the crime are guilty of murder of that person.

Pretty sure an active attempt to poach a cape away from the Wards by a criminal organisation counts as a crime.

Click to shrink...

The felony murder rule almost certainly does not apply here. It is generally only for crimes that present a foreseeable danger to life, and an illegal recruitment attempt does not. Any crime that would be presupposed by a murder charge (such as assault, with a parahuman power or not) is also excluded from the rule.

What actually does cut through all the undergrowth is how Earth Bet US courts are canonically corrupt as fuck in at least some areas and so will push through whatever charges are convenient should the PRT lean on them.

 

[Avernus]

The felony murder rule almost certainly does not apply here.

Click to shrink...

Also, the felony murder rule differs from state-to-state and isn't even universal. And we aren't Earth Bet, either. So the actual status and nature of the felony murder rule in Earth Bet Boston is up to Ack (unless Wildbow already brought it up in canon).

That said, from the way Fletchette was talking it's probably a thing. Sure she's not a legal expert, but she comes across as the sort who does her homework and it loosely relates to her job.

 

[The Unicorn]

Legally possibly true, depending on the law in that state in Earth Bet. Morally it's more questionable;

Click to shrink...

As a general discussion on the Felony murder rule you may have a point, but in the specific scene in this story it's not "some other person in the group killed someone and they couldn't have stopper them". Rather the Adepts brought Boomer to where Rune could hit him and held him while she did

Epoch can justifiably point out that it was just a recruitment attempt, not even an active crime like theft.

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No, they can't. To be honest I can't see a prosecutor or judge agreeing to apply the Felony murder rule to either Epoch or Thirteenth Hour because they were active participants in the murder. What they did is equivalent to grabbing a cop, dragging them in front of an armed criminal and holding them down while the third shot them, then running away when other cops came to try and arrest them.
No court in the world would accept "I didn't think they were going to actually kill him" after that, they'll be charged with murder in the first degree, conspiracy to commit and whatever lesser crimes the prosecutor feels like tacking on.

They had no reason to think she'd just offhandedly murder someone like that. Morally, the PRT/Protectorate is as to blame if not more as the discussion at the end of the chapter demonstrates they recognize.

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No, the PRT didn't commit any crimes which led to Boomer being killed. Even if they could convince a jury they didn't intend to kill Boomer, and we ignore the Felony murder rule(or it doesn't exist in Worm NY - in real life they treat Felony Murder as second degree murder, but 30 years divergence could have changed things)
The Adepts are still guilty of Assault, kidnapping and accessories to the murder.

Of course, felony murder is all over that shit. If a prosecutor decides to hang that on them, then it will stick.

Click to shrink...

I don't think so. Not in this case.
While they may not have had any intent, convincing people of that would be pretty difficult under the circumstances, and even if they do, I don't think they committed any crime not directly part of the murder.

Unlawful killing without intent is generally otherwise known as manslaughter, not murder

Click to shrink...

Incorrect. "intentional killing or a killing as a result of gross negligence that occurs without premeditation or preplanning." is murder in the second degree.
Involuntary manslaughter in contrast is "negligently causing the death of another person.", which has no resemblance to what Epoch did.

Epoch might be able to argue things down to Assault and kidnapping or Accessory before the fact, but there's no manslaughter, not even voluntary manslaughter much less involuntary, involved.

If a crime is being committed, and someone dies as a result of the crime being committed, then all perpetrators of the crime are guilty of murder of that person.

Click to shrink...

Note that at least in RL NY law is much more restrictive than that in applying felony murder.
No reason that can't change in Worm, but you should be aware there are variations in what felony murder means.

Pretty sure an active attempt to poach a cape away from the Wards by a criminal organization counts as a crime.

Click to shrink...

Definitely a crime (trying to convince some one else to commit a crime is itself a crime), but not a felony subject to Felony murder. Although of course you can say it is in your story.

 

[seeing_octarine]

As a general discussion on the Felony murder rule you may have a point, but in the specific scene in this story it's not "some other person in the group killed someone and they couldn't have stopper them". Rather the Adepts brought Boomer to where Rune could hit him and held him while she did

Click to shrink...

No, they can't. To be honest I can't see a prosecutor or judge agreeing to apply the Felony murder rule to either Epoch or Thirteenth Hour because they were active participants in the murder. What they did is equivalent to grabbing a cop, dragging them in front of an armed criminal and holding them down while the third shot them, then running away when other cops came to try and arrest them.
No court in the world would accept "I didn't think they were going to actually kill him" after that, they'll be charged with murder in the first degree, conspiracy to commit and whatever lesser crimes the prosecutor feels like tacking on.

Click to shrink...

You should probably go back and read chapter 94 again because you're way off. In fact, I'll just pull up and highlight a few key bits for you right now.

"Is that your minder?" Epoch's question was sharp.

"Yeah, but he wasn't supposed to—"

Epoch aimed the sundial at Boomer and turned some of the cogs. There was a blink of motion, and Boomer stood among them. Some more cogs clicked, and the Protectorate member froze in place.

"Ten seconds to choose," Epoch said. "Come with us, or go back and face the music. He's seen you with us. There's no walking this back. What's it to be?"

Click to shrink...

Epoch told Rune to choose between going with the Adepts right away or going back with Boomer and taking whatever trouble comes from that. Nothing to suggest violence.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. While Tammi despised everything the Wards stood for, especially the whole equality-for-all bullshit, everything was happening too fast. She really wanted more time to think this sort of shit over.

The trouble was, if she went back now, Epoch was right. Boomer had seen her with them. At the very least, questions would be asked. They would absolutely delve into her PHO private message log (she wasn't stupid enough to believe that they couldn't) and even though she'd never actually said anything incriminating, Piggy would totally use it as an excuse to punt her head-first into juvey.

Fuck. That.

She jumped off the platform as her power kicked it into movement. The Adepts jumped back, but she wasn't aiming for them. It was instead heading at Boomer, sweeping him off his feet and over the side of the building with the platform driving him straight down toward the ground like a metallic fist.

Click to shrink...

The Adepts were clearly not expecting Rune to choose violence today, otherwise they wouldn't have suddenly jumped back from the action. Their first reaction was to be concerned she was targeting them.

There's no suggestion anywhere that Epoch intended to actually harm Boomer beyond keeping him in timestop until they could leave. Yet through his negligence of keeping someone helpless around an unexpectedly murderous parahuman, Boomer still ended up dead. That's involuntary manslaughter.

That is only what actually happened, however, and whatever a corrupt Earth Bet court determines to have happened is another matter entirely.

Tammi probably gets second degree, by the way. Nobody gets stuck with a probable first degree conviction today unless using a parahuman power automatically bumps things up in Bet law. Which it very well might.

 

[Lictre]

unless using a parahuman power automatically bumps things up in Bet law. Which it very well might

Click to shrink...

With how I gather that the original creator of Worm wrote the universe, it defaults to grim-derp levels of apathy, corruption, villainy or hyper-competence, whichever creates the most intense disaster for the protagonist.

Why do I keep becoming a fan of fanfictions of material I'll never read/watch? Warhammer, Buffy, Worm, Naruto, various other anime/manga...

 

[The Unicorn]

You should probably go back and read chapter 94 again because you're way off.

Click to shrink...

No, I'm not off, although I may not have been clear.
I never questioned that Epoch didn't intend to kill Boomer, but that's not what Fletchette saw and the Adepts will find it impossible to prove, and very difficult to even present a reasonable doubt that they worked together with Rune to deliberately kill Boomer.

If Boomer wasn't a federal officer in uniform doing his duty they would have had a decent chance of only getting charged with second degree murder, but as it is it's the fact there was no premeditation isn't going to help them.

There's no suggestion anywhere that Epoch intended to actually harm Boomer beyond keeping him in timestop until they could leave. Yet through his negligence of keeping someone helpless around an unexpectedly murderous parahuman, Boomer still ended up dead. That's involuntary manslaughter.

Click to shrink...

Wrong. There's no negligence involved, that's assault and kidnapping (assuming all the facts were known and accepted, which as noted is not the case). "negligence" is a specific legal term and one of the requirements for it is that the results are foreseeable. Given that Boomer was murdered with deliberate malice by Rune, if it was foreseeable by Epoch in a way he had a duty to prevent, then he is an active participant in the murder, if it wasn't then there's no negligence involved, and in either case there's no manslaughter.

Tammi probably gets second degree, by the way. Nobody gets stuck with a probable first degree conviction today unless using a parahuman power automatically bumps things up in Bet law. Which it very well might.

Click to shrink...

Killing a federal officer to stop them from doing their job will (unless Ack decides the laws are diffrent in his story) bump things up to capital murder even if the prosecutor couldn't find evidence of malice aforethought or premeditation which is unlikely given Fletchette's testimony of how Run's shield kept in contact with Boomer all the way down preventing him from recovering and ensuring he was killed...

 

[Ack]

I was very recently put onto a website that allows you to input a song concept (or even lyrics) and it generates the song for you, complete with instrumentals.

Here's what it came up with (after several tweaks of the lyrics):

Atropos (Doing Wrong to Make it Right)

 

[GoldenFlake]

I was very recently put onto a website that allows you to input a song concept (or even lyrics) and it generates the song for you, complete with instrumentals.

Here's what it came up with (after several tweaks of the lyrics):

Atropos (Doing Wrong to Make it Right)

Click to shrink...

Very good, bravo!
The music lines up quite nicely with the lyrics you made.

 

[Ack]

Very good, bravo!
The music lines up quite nicely with the lyrics you made.

Click to shrink...

Most of the lyrics were generated via AI from the prompt I gave. I tweaked it a little after the fact, but the majority was what the AI came up with.

The prompt was basically "Atropos is a killer, a black-clad teenage girl with shears and a shotgun who kills bad guys to make things good for people." the tweaks mainly added in the reference to shooting out kneecaps and the name of Brockton Bay. The line "Breaking chains with bloodstained hands" was all AI.

 

[Oddboy]

o input a song concept (or even lyrics) and it generates the song for you, complete with instrumentals.

Here's what it came up with (after several tweaks of the lyrics):

Click to shrink...

Huh. That's actually pretty good. I wasn't expecting an AI-generated song to be worth shit, to be honest.