- Location
- Somewhere
welp, time to make a chat for all who know who Atropos is.
Danny, Cherie, Amy, and Vicky.
Danny, Cherie, Amy, and Vicky.
M. H. Fuzzball
Aperture Science-certified Horrible Person
- Location
- Sector 2814
PM exchange
Chevalier: You said Bonesaw was dead. That you killed her.
Atropos: I did say both of those things, and they're true.
Chevalier: I've seen Miss Medic.
Atropos: Bonesaw is dead. I didn't see any reason for the girl who was turned into Bonesaw to join her. So far, I've been proven right.
- Location
- here
This sentence would read really differently on QQ.
Not that I would know anything about such hive of degeneracy.
Where is Shad when you need him?
- Location
- Canada
You're forgetting Emma, but she does admittedly bring a different vibe with that knowledge.
"This is the Tough Club. How tough are you?"
"When Atropos comes to my house, I give her cookies."
"Right this way, Madam!"
"When Atropos comes to my house, I give her cookies."
"Right this way, Madam!"
- Location
- USA
Absolute trust in Amy has been well-established even before this. Amy still doesn't like Atropos but will not betray her. Vicky knows that she hasn't established that level of trust before this point so it is surprising to Vicky that Taylor still trusts her. The big deal is that Atropos's father is the overall boss in charge of fixing BB up. Which way does the nepotism flow.
The entire student body of her high school at least suspects, pretty much everyone in her grade knows for sure, teachers included. Open secret that nobody talks about. Must be weird taking a class in parahuman studies when one of the students in the class is a major player.
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ThrawnCA
Carbon-based biped
- Location
- Australia
It goes right through the barren field over there.
ThrawnCA
Carbon-based biped
- Location
- Australia
Atropos has already demonstrated the capacity for metaphysical and metaphorical kills, just ask Ravioli.
But if you look closely at her statements, she didn't even say that much. Her lighthearted description of the "festivities" involved Bonesaw having to "catch a nap", and then in the comments she explained the absence of a body by talking about the embedded plagues and saying, "I took her body away to neutralize those and dispose of it safely."
She also told Dragon that "Bonesaw is never returning," but since she also told Dragon the full story (and, indeed, recruited her to help build the Riley Laborn identity), that can hardly be a lie.
Now, Dragon may have made some "Bonesaw is dead" statements that were technically false but metaphorically true. But it seems like Atropos didn't.
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- Location
- Australia
Atropos knew, and that's all that matters.
"Yes."
Though it's very irritating for the major player when nobody is willing to give her feedback on how she's doing.
ThrawnCA
Carbon-based biped
- Location
- Australia
I think it's only fair to allow everyone to save it for PHO, where everyone is masked and discussing cape business is normal.
She would retaliate with extreme violence if someone outed her -> She doesn't want to mix cape business with civilian -> Nobody around her wants to discuss her caped identity in the presence of her civilian one. Pretty straightforward. (Theoretically everyone is probably supposed to ignore what they know and behave normally, but in practice, the fear she has very deliberately inspired is going to skew that.)
GreydonCreed
Man of Culture
- Location
- United States
Atropos: Bonesaw is dead... from a certain point of view. And I was responsible for it. 😁
FTFY. 😎
ThrawnCA
Carbon-based biped
- Location
- Australia
"If only you knew the power of the Path to Ending. Atropos never told you what happened to Bonesaw."
"She told me enough. She told me she killed her."
"It's possible. She kills a lot of people."
- Location
- Australia
Is that from Star Wars? It feels like it should be from Star Wars.
ThrawnCA
Carbon-based biped
- Location
- Australia
<sigh> Okay, I must explain the joke.
The first two lines reference Darth Vader confronting Luke, "Obi-Wan never told you what happened to your father."
The third line references The Princess Bride. "You killed my love." "It's possible. I kill a lot of people."
The third line references The Princess Bride. "You killed my love." "It's possible. I kill a lot of people."
- Location
- Australia
Jordisk
<Unverified N00B>
- Location
- Blind Eternities
- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
Is that Taylor's field of f*cks?
Pressure on the carotid artery will result in unconsciousness in about 10 seconds, so a concussion isn't required.
On the other hand, unconsciousness is *not* sleep, so it probably wouldn't help you.
Well, not exactly. It used to be, but she ran out.
- Location
- Somewhere
The field of f*cks was washed away when the dam keeping her pond of damns gave out. Now the field is empty and the pond is gone.
Part Ninety: Progress, Albeit Rocky
- Location
- Australia
A Darker Path
Part Ninety: Progress, Albeit Rocky
[A/N 1: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]
[A/N 2: Trigger warning for graphic description of an injury, second paragraph.]
Chevalier
"He's just down this way." Michael led the way along an alley to where a section had been cordoned off with police tape. It was old and tattered, but still mostly intact, mainly because most people had no desire to screw with Gray Boy loops.
The man contained within the monochrome bubble was in his mid-thirties and seemed to be repeating a section of looped time a little over five seconds in length. During that interval, something stabbed him low on the stomach and pulled upward, opening his abdominal wall up to his breastbone. He was just beginning to fall over, his intestines spilling out of the gaping wound, when the loop restarted.
"Eww, ugh," groused Clockblocker, raising a hand to block out the sight. "Warn a guy, why don't you?"
"What part of 'Gray Boy bubble' were you not actually told about?" asked Miss Medic rhetorically, apparently taking in every detail. This didn't actually make Michael feel any better about her. "Okay, the mental effects aside, this should be an easy fix."
"Mental effects?" asked Assault. "What mental effects?"
"Yeah," Shebang added. "I want to hear about these mental effects too."
Miss Medic turned to face them. "Okay, so when I got asked to volunteer for this, I went and read up everything I could get on them. I had to get special permission from Director Renick to access some information—something about me being too young to read stuff like that—but I made my case, and he was pretty understanding."
Tenebrae tilted his head; Michael got the impression he was raising an eyebrow. "I wondered what that was about."
"Yup!" she said brightly. "So, what I figure is that if someone is kept in a constant torture loop like this, their mind falls apart, then back together, then apart, and so on in a vicious cycle. Also, if they've got a corona pollentia, there's a massive chance that they'll trigger as soon as the bubble goes down. Ninety to ninety-five percent chance is my best guess."
Michael did not want to engage with the girl he knew to be Bonesaw, especially while she was talking so knowledgeably about the long-term effects of torture, but this was absolutely something that had to be addressed. "Which means we would very likely have an insane person, with powers and potentially fatal injuries, right here in this alley with us."
"Great," Clockblocker muttered. "Why exactly are we doing this again?"
"Oh, the powers would almost certainly work to make sure the injury isn't fatal to him," Miss Medic said cheerfully, ignoring the interjection. "Unfortunately, that says nothing about what happens to everyone else around him, or even the whole city block."
Assault looked around. "And this isn't Brockton Bay, so Atropos isn't likely to stroll around the corner and tell us this is a really bad idea."
"Um," said Shebang. Her expression indicated someone who was feeling more and more out of their depth with every passing second.
"So, if he comes out and starts looking like obliterating us all, I freeze him and we all run like hell?" offered Clockblocker.
Miss Medic shook her head. "Nuh-uh. I think I've got a better idea. Shebang, walk with me. We need to have a chat."
"While you're doing that," Michael said, "I'll update Legend and the Chief Director on the current situation. Assault, try not to break anything before I get back."
Assault leaned against the wall, arms folded. "No promises."
Moving off a ways down the alley, Michael selected Costa-Brown's number on his phone and sent the call through.
Alexandria
When Rebecca saw Chevalier's number come up on her phone, her first thought was, either something's gone extremely right or extremely wrong. As no other alerts had popped up for Philadelphia, she dared hope for the former.
Setting aside the report on the sighting of Atropos entering Sleeper's area of effect, she took up the phone. "Speak to me."
"Ma'am, we're at the site." Chevalier sounded frazzled, which wasn't like the man at all. "We haven't yet begun operations, because of potential complications. But the biggest problem is that my power shows Miss Medic up to be Bonesaw. Nice kid, not in the slightest bit homicidal, but she's still Bonesaw. I don't know how Atropos did it, but—"
"Stop," she ordered. He fell silent, and she began to sift through all the potential ways this could have happened. Dragon had to be in on it, either as a willing conspirator or an unwitting dupe. When did Atropos begin to turn her? Was it when she went after Atropos following the death of Saint?
The next three questions were: how did Atropos dispose of the plagues from Bonesaw's body; then change her from a twelve-year-old blonde white girl to a ten-year-old black girl with a strong resemblance to the Laborns; then turn her from an amoral serial killer into a happy, healthy, well-adjusted child?
From hundreds of possibilities, down to dozens, to a few, all the way to one, took her less than a second. There was only one person with the capability, with whom Atropos had had contact. Deliberate, preplanned contact, or I'll eat my favourite boots, without salt.
Panacea.
It had to be.
There was nobody else Rebecca knew of who could have disarmed Bonesaw, healed whatever damage Atropos did to make her look dead, changed her phenotype so thoroughly, and fixed her headspace to make her into someone who wanted to help and heal people. It only required one bit of information to determine whether the hypothesis was valid or not.
Still holding the phone, she opened a text message box and tapped out a message to Contessa:
Can Panacea work with brains?
The answer came back two seconds later.
yes
Rebecca closed her eyes for a second and smiled grimly. She wanted to face-palm due to how thoroughly Atropos had pulled the wool over everyone's eyes, but right now she wouldn't give herself the satisfaction. Later, when she had the time, she was going to fly up to ten thousand feet and scream a few obscenities into the wind, but until then she had to be Chief Director.
The setup was clear now. For some reason, Atropos wanted to help Panacea de-stress, so she'd coldly and deliberately set matters up so that there was another healer in Brockton Bay. With the capture of Grue, the PRT had left themselves wide open for a third Laborn family member, who would have an older brother and sister to keep her on the straight and narrow. (Of course, having someone like Dragon on call to create said family records out of thin air also helped).
According to Chevalier, Miss Medic was safe to be around, which was entirely on-brand with Atropos. After all, she'd turned more than two hundred and fifty killer robots into willing construction workers, and a surprising number of villains had meekly shown up at the Brockton Bay city limits, asking if they could also join the workforce.
(Contessa was still smarting over being blasted in the ear with an air horn, over Faultline).
And that didn't even count Accord, who at last report was having a ball laying out the plans for the recuperation of the entire goddamn Brockton Bay region with the glee of an OCD perfectionist handed a ten-figure budget.
Rebecca made a mental note to keep a much closer eye on Dragon, and see what other shenanigans the AI was up to—it had to be Atropos who'd gotten her around the limitations Saint had regularly exploited—but decided not to confront her until she had more information. Then she put the phone to her ear again. "Chevalier, thank you for bringing this information to me. The situation is under control. You are to take no further action regarding this specific situation, or tell anyone else about this, except Legend. Do you understand?"
The pause was so long that she wondered if the call had dropped out. Then he responded. "Message received and understood, ma'am. We're to treat this as Atropos business?"
By which he evidently meant, 'do not fuck around with, lest we find out'.
"Exactly," she said. "Atropos business. So long as Miss Medic does her job and does it properly, let her be. Now, you said there were potential complications?"
"Ah, actually, yes. We're at the Gray Boy loop we're intending to try to drop, and Miss Medic indicated that the victim would likely have been sent insane by the ordeal. Also, there's a ninety-plus percent chance that he's going to trigger with powers as soon as we release him. She's currently conferring with Shebang over a potential fix."
Rebecca closed her eyes again. Nothing's ever easy. "But she sounds like she has a solution?"
"She seems to think she might, yes."
"Okay, when you find out what it is, use your best judgement. Have you spoken to Legend about any of this yet?"
"I was going to call him next, ma'am."
"Good. Do that. Tell him I'm on to the Bonesaw aspect. Costa-Brown, out."
She ended the call and put the phone down on the desk, then let out an aggravated sigh.
One day, Atropos. Just one day without your bullshit. That's all I ask.
Glory Girl
"Wait, what?" Vicky was so startled, only her flight saved her from falling off the chair. "That's not your real name … is it?" But she was staring at Atropos' face, comparing it to the memory of a tall man with careworn features, snapping orders that saved another man's life.
"That's me." Appearing to know what Vicky was thinking, Taylor nodded to her. "Danny Hebert's my dad."
Now Amy was staring too. "You put your dad in as head of the Betterment Committee? Isn't that a conflict of interest or something?"
Taylor's snort was pure Atropos. "You're acting like I should care about rules like that. I trust Dad to play things straight down the line, so I adjusted matters to make sure he'd be in the running for the top spot. Mayor Christner made the final call, though I'm fairly sure he picked Dad so if things did go to shit, he could claim that it wasn't one of his people at fault."
"But …" Vicky stumbled for words. When Atropos had been a faceless shadow with a terrifyingly sharp pair of shears and a gun that never missed, it was easy to see her as a force of nature. Tornadoes didn't need to have a grudge against the trailer parks they demolished, they just went ahead and did it. But now she was facing a girl of her own age in a tattered costume, patently vulnerable to injury, who had reasons for what she did. Mortal like the rest of them.
It was a paradigm shift that Vicky was having trouble getting her head around.
"Let me guess," Atropos said, not unkindly. "You want to know why I kill people? How I can bring myself to just End their lives, while at the same time helping out people like Amy?"
"Well … yes." Vicky wouldn't have put it quite as bluntly as that, but that was the gist of it. "Why murder?"
Taylor's eyes glinted. "Because nothing else was working."
"Yes, it was!" The retort burst out of her before she even had time to think about it. "We had police, PRT, and heroes! We were making a difference!"
"Bullshit." The word was flat and hard, and fell into the conversation like a lead brick. "You were treading water at best. Hookwolf and Lung both had Birdcage sentences, yet they were still walking the streets in broad daylight. How many times did Hookwolf get captured but escape from his transport because someone inside law enforcement leaked the route to the Empire Eighty-Eight? Three times, wasn't it?"
"We were keeping the crime down," Vicky persisted. "Keeping the streets safe."
"By letting the ABB extort 'protection' money and run prostitutes, many of whom were forced into the life. My ex-best-friend nearly ended up having her face mutilated for a gang initiation, in broad daylight, with a superhero standing right there and choosing not to intervene. Does that sound like the streets were being kept safe?"
"That doesn't sound right," objected Amy. "Which superhero was that?"
"Shadow Stalker." Taylor's voice may as well have been reading a name out of a phone book. "And yes, she was my first kill. The irony is, I didn't even do it for Emma. She was an edgelord psycho who never stepped in to help anyone unless they fought back first. But if the person she was bullying fought back, she came back twice as hard at them. She tried it on me, and ignored two warnings."
Amy nodded, remembering. "Yeah, I read about that on your PHO thread. She was actually bullying you before you were Atropos?"
"She was." Taylor didn't seem overly put out about it. "And then, once I got my powers, she wasn't. But we were talking about the ABB. Two capes, and nobody did a damn thing about them until I took care of matters."
"Well, okay, they were pretty bad," conceded Vicky, "but you have to admit, Lung was a tough nut to crack, especially with Oni Lee helping him."
Taylor gave her a level stare. "It took me four nights, and I Ended two other gangs while I was at it. As for the Merchants, they were hardly even a gang, but everyone just kept letting them deal drugs to kids anyway. And finally, the Empire Eighty-Eight had more capes in the city than all the heroes put together, and committed more cape crime than all the other villains put together. When was the last time any of them were even captured, much less spent a night in lockup?" Her eyebrows should've been treated as deadly weapons, the way she had them cocked and locked.
These were questions Vicky couldn't really find a good answer for, but she did her best anyway. "We couldn't fix everything at once. Anyway, when they cleared all the villains out of Boston, a new bunch came in and started fighting over turf. A lot of people got hurt before it was over. Tell her, Ames!" She looked over at her sister. Amy had been there too, putting pins in maps and relaying sightings.
"Why?" asked Amy. "I'm on her side."
While Vicky was still gaping at that, Taylor cleared her throat. "You'll notice that I did fix everything at once. Five nights, four gangs. Also, some capes did try to replay the Boston Games scenario. Some of them died, and some of them came in on my terms, and aren't villains anymore. Because the act of Ending someone isn't just a blunt instrument. Used right, it can be a scalpel too."
"Okay, okay, wait, hold on a second." Vicky wanted to address one thing at a time. "Ames, what the fuck? What do you mean, you're on her side? She kills people!"
Amy rolled her eyes as only she could. "I'm not into the murder thing. Obviously. But she's right when she says what we were doing wasn't working. And what she's been doing did actually fucking work. So there's got to be a third way, maybe just a tidal wave of heroes coming into a city and scouring out every last villain—"
"Sorry, but that wouldn't work." Taylor wasn't as scathing as she had been to Vicky, but her tone was equally definite. "While villains by themselves don't cause social problems for the most part, they do exacerbate existing ones, and make it a lot harder to eradicate every last trace of them. But if you only take the villains away, the issues remain and feed on each other. You've got to hit all aspects of a problem, or it just keeps cropping up again."
By now, Amy was nodding. "Infrastructure, crime, homelessness, poverty, unemployment, poor education, drug habituation, mental illness, yeah. Got it. You're stabbing all those problems with money."
"And to both get that money and to make sure it wouldn't be wasted once spent, I had to End a whole bunch of people who desperately needed it," Taylor agreed. "Plus an Endbringer." She gave Vicky a sly look. "I hope you're not going to hold the Simurgh against me too?"
Vicky had learned enough from her clashes with Atropos to know when to admit that continuing to argue would just make her look like the bad guy. Rolling her eyes, she shook her head with a chuckle. "Oh, just shut the fuck up and let my sister heal your sorry ass."
Clockblocker
"So, how's your dad, anyway?" asked Tenebrae idly. "Still doing well, I hope?"
Dennis nodded and grinned, though the latter was entirely hidden inside his helmet. "It's been a week, and he's getting stronger all the time. He went in for tests today, so we won't find out for another couple of days, but we're really optimistic." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Your cousin is amazing. Just saying."
"Yeah, she is." Tenebrae nodded in return. "She's helping knock some of the rougher edges off my little sister, and …" He paused. "Did you know Paladin is living with us?"
"Not officially, but it's gotten around, yeah." Dennis tilted his head. "Is it true that he's whats-his-name's kid? I mean, literally Captain Nazi Junior?" He figured that was safe enough to say around Ballinger. Assault wasn't telling him to shut up, anyway.
Tenebrae sighed. "I can neither confirm nor deny his identity, but I can tell you that Paladin has zero attitudes in that direction. Even though he's older than both of them, they treat him like their little brother."
"Aww, nice." Dennis was about to say more, but Assault cleared his throat and gestured sideways with his head. Looking that way, Dennis saw Chevalier on the way back. "Heads up, the big guy's incoming."
"So are Miss Medic and Shebang." Tenebrae was looking in the other direction. It kind of made sense that he'd be keeping an eye on his cousin. "They don't look too upset, so I'm guessing they came up with something."
Dennis snorted. "What did you expect? Lock two Tinkers in the same room together, and they'll either kill each other or bust out of there with a battle tank that flies and can turn into a giant robot."
"Don't you mean, a giant robot that flies and turns into a battle tank?"
"I meant what I said."
Tenebrae
"Okay, then," announced Riley, dusting her hands off in a businesslike way. "Shebang and I have pretty well figured out how we can maybe solve our problems."
Shebang put up a finger. "That's a pretty big 'maybe', hon. Also, it was basically all your idea."
Brian heard the bit she didn't say, loud and clear. So if it goes wrong, it's not my fault.
"Well, don't keep us all in suspense," Assault prompted. "What's the solution?"
Riley took a deep breath. "You might not be a fan of this, but here goes. Memory loss. We drop the loop, then we immediately revert his memories back to just before he went in. If he's got no memories of being tortured, he's not insane. If he's not insane, he's not under stress. If he's not under stress, he's got no reason to trigger. Then all I have to do is save his life—which, to be honest, Clock here could manage with a staple gun and half a dozen Band-Aids—and we're home and dry, yeah?"
Clockblocker held up his hand. "You're right. Not a fan. But … I can't really see another way to do it?" He drew the statement out like a question, as though hoping someone else would point out an alternative solution.
"It is an interesting concept," Chevalier observed neutrally. "How exactly were you going to revert his memories in a way that wouldn't cause additional stress?"
Riley grinned and pointed Shebang's way with two finger-guns. "Plan A is for our bomb-guru here to make two bombs, linked. The first bomb drops the loop. The second bomb absorbs the temporal energy from the loop and pops off in our victim's face, reverting everything in the area to what it was on whatever date he got Gray-Boy'd. We'd have to find that out, of course."
"I don't even know if that'll work, just saying," Shebang supplied. "Theoretically, it should. But there's a huge gap between 'theoretically' and 'reality'."
Assault rubbed his chin. "If you have a Plan A, then you have at least a Plan B. What's Plan B? Clockblocker lurking behind him with a big hammer?"
"No, that's plan Z." Riley said it so seriously that Brian was almost taken in for a second. "Plan B is that the second bomb hits him with an infused dose of stuff I can make that … um." She glanced around at everyone, still looking at her with interest, then went on. "That kind of causes a moderate amount of retrograde amnesia. Instant uptake, instant effect."
Clockblocker looked around at the group. "Am I the only one who doesn't know what retrograde amnesia is?"
"I don't," confessed Shebang.
"Likewise," said Assault.
Trooper Ballinger cleared his throat. "Isn't it loss of the memories from before whatever happened to you?"
"Holy shit!" blurted Clockblocker. "He speaks!" He turned to Ballinger. "Seriously, I was half wondering if you were a robot that Shebang made."
"I make bombs, doofus, not robots." Shebang rolled her eyes. "Trooper Ballinger is a perfectly nice man who volunteered to carry my cases for me."
Assault cleared his throat. "Trooper, on behalf of my Wards, I apologise for the rudeness. Especially considering that you knew more about what Miss Medic was referring to than half of us did."
Ballinger nodded. "I appreciate it, sir, but it's not a problem."
"Was there a Plan C?" asked Chevalier.
Riley nodded. "Yes, sir. Instead of a second bomb, Clockblocker freezes him and I apply the stuff as a topical ointment. Skin uptake isn't as fast as bomb infusion, so there's a chance he'll still trigger before it takes effect. And Plan D is … well, we call up Atropos and ask her to help out by killing his powers before he can do anything drastic, then we keep him sedated until we can deal with his mental problems."
"Hmm." Chevalier seemed to be thinking hard. "Let's leave any plans that involve calling on Atropos as extreme backup plans, shall we? For now … Shebang, for Plan A, what's the projected range on that time-reversion bomb, and do you need extra equipment to put it together?"
"Anything from fifteen feet to fifty feet, and I'll need to get some readings first." Shebang turned to Trooper Ballinger, and pointed. "I need that case, please."
"Ma'am." He picked up the left-hand case and hefted it forward a few feet, then stepped back.
"Thank you." Unsnapping the catches, she opened it to reveal a bewildering array of electronics, with an air of being slightly off that Brian was learning to recognise was a trademark of Tinker tech. He'd seen it in Kid Win's work as well as Armsmaster's, but Shebang's was even more obvious. Whether it was because she was newer or she just didn't care enough to try to make her stuff look more normal, he had no idea.
Sliding an instrument out of its niche, she began running it over the exterior of the bubble that enclosed the Gray Boy loop. Within, the hapless victim went through his endless cycle of being eviscerated, falling, resetting, stabbed, falling, over and over again. Brian didn't like it, but he'd seen worse as Grue, and he suspected he would again.
"Well, okay then." Shebang was focusing on the readouts to the point that Brian suspected she'd forgotten there was a man in there. "Gotta say, Clock, this is a lot easier than trying to get data out of your stupid rubber ball." She shut off the scanner while Brian was still trying to make sense of that, then turned to face Chevalier. "I've got good news and bad news, sir."
"Bad news first," he said promptly. "Is this even possible to do?"
"Oh, sure, it's possible." She tried a nonchalant twirl with her scanner, and it slipped out of her grasp, but Brian whipped out his hand and snagged it before it could drop all the way to the floor of the alley. "Shit! Um, wow, those are some crazy-ass reflexes you've got there."
"If you ever met my sister, you'd know why." He waited until he was sure she had a good grip on it before letting it go. The last thing he wanted was for her to have to go back to New York to build another scanner. "So, you were saying?"
"Oh, yeah." She took a deep breath. "It's totally doable. Buuuttttt … I just don't have the parts I need for the second bomb. Good news, I can build it, and I'm pretty sure I can make it work. I just need some stuff first."
"What do you need, and do you have it back in New York?" asked Chevalier.
"A bunch of rare earths," she admitted. "And no, I don't. So I'm gonna have to requisition it through Legend and Director Piggot. On the upside, once I've got it, I'm reasonably sure I can bust our buddy right out of grayscale world, and rewind his memory to day dot." She tucked the scanner back into the case and dusted her hands off, looking pleased with herself.
"So … we're not popping the cork today?" asked Clockblocker.
Brian shrugged. "It appears not."
"Understood." Chevalier nodded once, curtly. "Well, then. Let's get you back home, so you can work on that. Well done, by the way. Any progress is better than no progress at all."
As they filed out of the alleyway, Brian could feel the man's eyes on the back of his neck, but he didn't look back.
We'll get you out of there, buddy. Just not today.
Taylor
On my feet at last, I stretched and flexed my arms and legs. Already, I could feel my power retuning my newly rebuilt muscles to optimum fitness levels. "Well, that's definitely an improvement," I decided. "When I got here, I didn't have a leg to stand on."
Amy face-palmed, and Vicky groaned. "Wow, really?" Vicky groused. "Bad jokes, at a time like this?"
"Hey, there's always time for bad jokes." I tugged on what remained of my left sleeve and it came away, then I picked up the teleport module and slid it onto my arm. "It's amazing how many people underestimate you if you make a cheesy pun at the right moment."
"Now I know why you and Mouse Protector get along so well," Amy snarked. She nodded at the teleporter as I settled it into place. "Where did you get it from, anyway? I've seen a bit of Tinker tech before, but nothing as good as that."
"Leet, actually." Flicking up the cover, I tapped in the coordinates for my bedroom at home. "I had a word with him, my power had a word with his power, and what do you know, tech that doesn't blow up if you look at it wrong."
Vicky frowned. "What do you mean, your power had a word with his power? Powers don't talk to each other."
"Trump powers do," I corrected her. "Also, Jack Slash's power was built to talk to other powers. It was how he managed to stay around for so long. Any time a cape went after him, it was feeding him information under the table."
Amy nodded. "Yeah, I remember how you talked about what a cheating asshole he was."
"He was all of that. And when my power has a word with someone else's power, that power knows not to screw me over." I flipped the cover down again. "Need a hand cleaning up?"
"Pfft, nah." She waved her hand casually. "I got this. You're good at killing things, but I'm amazing at dealing with biological messes."
"Okay, yeah, point." I raised my (newly regrown) finger to get her attention, and Vicky's as well. "Before I go, there's two things I want to say. First, thank you both for being good sports. I truly appreciate it. And second, just remember that jumping straight to killing isn't the solution to dealing with villains. Not for you, anyway."
Vicky blinked. "Okay, I wasn't about to go out and start murdering villains, but isn't that a teensy bit hypocritical of you? You started offing people from the get-go. You've blown up warehouses and boats, and set fire to eighteen-wheelers. And I'm never going to forget what you did to Lung and Skidmark."
"All of that is true," I admitted. "Except for the hypocrisy bit. See, my power is basically called Ending. Its entire purpose is killing things: people, ideas, intentions, threats. It tells me who needs to die in order to End a problem, how to End them, and how to do it in order to get the reaction I want. But the result I want needs to involve Ending something. I can't just say, 'I want', and get it."
"And what you want is …?" Vicky prompted.
"Don't you read PHO at all?" Amy chided her. "She wants what we want. A safer and nicer Brockton Bay."
I clicked my tongue and made a finger-gun at her. "Got it in one."
Vicky nodded, her expression thoughtful. "Understood. Well, thanks for trusting us. Trusting me."
"Thanks for being trustworthy. Welp, my ride's here." I turned as the shadowy portal formed in mid-air. Giving both girls a nod, I stepped into it, emerging in my own bedroom.
Tattered costume and all, I pirouetted on my toes and fell backward onto the bed, letting out a huge sigh.
"Well," I informed the ceiling. "That was a day."
End of Part Ninety
Part Ninety: Progress, Albeit Rocky
[A/N 1: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]
[A/N 2: Trigger warning for graphic description of an injury, second paragraph.]
Chevalier
"He's just down this way." Michael led the way along an alley to where a section had been cordoned off with police tape. It was old and tattered, but still mostly intact, mainly because most people had no desire to screw with Gray Boy loops.
The man contained within the monochrome bubble was in his mid-thirties and seemed to be repeating a section of looped time a little over five seconds in length. During that interval, something stabbed him low on the stomach and pulled upward, opening his abdominal wall up to his breastbone. He was just beginning to fall over, his intestines spilling out of the gaping wound, when the loop restarted.
"Eww, ugh," groused Clockblocker, raising a hand to block out the sight. "Warn a guy, why don't you?"
"What part of 'Gray Boy bubble' were you not actually told about?" asked Miss Medic rhetorically, apparently taking in every detail. This didn't actually make Michael feel any better about her. "Okay, the mental effects aside, this should be an easy fix."
"Mental effects?" asked Assault. "What mental effects?"
"Yeah," Shebang added. "I want to hear about these mental effects too."
Miss Medic turned to face them. "Okay, so when I got asked to volunteer for this, I went and read up everything I could get on them. I had to get special permission from Director Renick to access some information—something about me being too young to read stuff like that—but I made my case, and he was pretty understanding."
Tenebrae tilted his head; Michael got the impression he was raising an eyebrow. "I wondered what that was about."
"Yup!" she said brightly. "So, what I figure is that if someone is kept in a constant torture loop like this, their mind falls apart, then back together, then apart, and so on in a vicious cycle. Also, if they've got a corona pollentia, there's a massive chance that they'll trigger as soon as the bubble goes down. Ninety to ninety-five percent chance is my best guess."
Michael did not want to engage with the girl he knew to be Bonesaw, especially while she was talking so knowledgeably about the long-term effects of torture, but this was absolutely something that had to be addressed. "Which means we would very likely have an insane person, with powers and potentially fatal injuries, right here in this alley with us."
"Great," Clockblocker muttered. "Why exactly are we doing this again?"
"Oh, the powers would almost certainly work to make sure the injury isn't fatal to him," Miss Medic said cheerfully, ignoring the interjection. "Unfortunately, that says nothing about what happens to everyone else around him, or even the whole city block."
Assault looked around. "And this isn't Brockton Bay, so Atropos isn't likely to stroll around the corner and tell us this is a really bad idea."
"Um," said Shebang. Her expression indicated someone who was feeling more and more out of their depth with every passing second.
"So, if he comes out and starts looking like obliterating us all, I freeze him and we all run like hell?" offered Clockblocker.
Miss Medic shook her head. "Nuh-uh. I think I've got a better idea. Shebang, walk with me. We need to have a chat."
"While you're doing that," Michael said, "I'll update Legend and the Chief Director on the current situation. Assault, try not to break anything before I get back."
Assault leaned against the wall, arms folded. "No promises."
Moving off a ways down the alley, Michael selected Costa-Brown's number on his phone and sent the call through.
<><>
Alexandria
When Rebecca saw Chevalier's number come up on her phone, her first thought was, either something's gone extremely right or extremely wrong. As no other alerts had popped up for Philadelphia, she dared hope for the former.
Setting aside the report on the sighting of Atropos entering Sleeper's area of effect, she took up the phone. "Speak to me."
"Ma'am, we're at the site." Chevalier sounded frazzled, which wasn't like the man at all. "We haven't yet begun operations, because of potential complications. But the biggest problem is that my power shows Miss Medic up to be Bonesaw. Nice kid, not in the slightest bit homicidal, but she's still Bonesaw. I don't know how Atropos did it, but—"
"Stop," she ordered. He fell silent, and she began to sift through all the potential ways this could have happened. Dragon had to be in on it, either as a willing conspirator or an unwitting dupe. When did Atropos begin to turn her? Was it when she went after Atropos following the death of Saint?
The next three questions were: how did Atropos dispose of the plagues from Bonesaw's body; then change her from a twelve-year-old blonde white girl to a ten-year-old black girl with a strong resemblance to the Laborns; then turn her from an amoral serial killer into a happy, healthy, well-adjusted child?
From hundreds of possibilities, down to dozens, to a few, all the way to one, took her less than a second. There was only one person with the capability, with whom Atropos had had contact. Deliberate, preplanned contact, or I'll eat my favourite boots, without salt.
Panacea.
It had to be.
There was nobody else Rebecca knew of who could have disarmed Bonesaw, healed whatever damage Atropos did to make her look dead, changed her phenotype so thoroughly, and fixed her headspace to make her into someone who wanted to help and heal people. It only required one bit of information to determine whether the hypothesis was valid or not.
Still holding the phone, she opened a text message box and tapped out a message to Contessa:
Can Panacea work with brains?
The answer came back two seconds later.
yes
Rebecca closed her eyes for a second and smiled grimly. She wanted to face-palm due to how thoroughly Atropos had pulled the wool over everyone's eyes, but right now she wouldn't give herself the satisfaction. Later, when she had the time, she was going to fly up to ten thousand feet and scream a few obscenities into the wind, but until then she had to be Chief Director.
The setup was clear now. For some reason, Atropos wanted to help Panacea de-stress, so she'd coldly and deliberately set matters up so that there was another healer in Brockton Bay. With the capture of Grue, the PRT had left themselves wide open for a third Laborn family member, who would have an older brother and sister to keep her on the straight and narrow. (Of course, having someone like Dragon on call to create said family records out of thin air also helped).
According to Chevalier, Miss Medic was safe to be around, which was entirely on-brand with Atropos. After all, she'd turned more than two hundred and fifty killer robots into willing construction workers, and a surprising number of villains had meekly shown up at the Brockton Bay city limits, asking if they could also join the workforce.
(Contessa was still smarting over being blasted in the ear with an air horn, over Faultline).
And that didn't even count Accord, who at last report was having a ball laying out the plans for the recuperation of the entire goddamn Brockton Bay region with the glee of an OCD perfectionist handed a ten-figure budget.
Rebecca made a mental note to keep a much closer eye on Dragon, and see what other shenanigans the AI was up to—it had to be Atropos who'd gotten her around the limitations Saint had regularly exploited—but decided not to confront her until she had more information. Then she put the phone to her ear again. "Chevalier, thank you for bringing this information to me. The situation is under control. You are to take no further action regarding this specific situation, or tell anyone else about this, except Legend. Do you understand?"
The pause was so long that she wondered if the call had dropped out. Then he responded. "Message received and understood, ma'am. We're to treat this as Atropos business?"
By which he evidently meant, 'do not fuck around with, lest we find out'.
"Exactly," she said. "Atropos business. So long as Miss Medic does her job and does it properly, let her be. Now, you said there were potential complications?"
"Ah, actually, yes. We're at the Gray Boy loop we're intending to try to drop, and Miss Medic indicated that the victim would likely have been sent insane by the ordeal. Also, there's a ninety-plus percent chance that he's going to trigger with powers as soon as we release him. She's currently conferring with Shebang over a potential fix."
Rebecca closed her eyes again. Nothing's ever easy. "But she sounds like she has a solution?"
"She seems to think she might, yes."
"Okay, when you find out what it is, use your best judgement. Have you spoken to Legend about any of this yet?"
"I was going to call him next, ma'am."
"Good. Do that. Tell him I'm on to the Bonesaw aspect. Costa-Brown, out."
She ended the call and put the phone down on the desk, then let out an aggravated sigh.
One day, Atropos. Just one day without your bullshit. That's all I ask.
<><>
Glory Girl
"Wait, what?" Vicky was so startled, only her flight saved her from falling off the chair. "That's not your real name … is it?" But she was staring at Atropos' face, comparing it to the memory of a tall man with careworn features, snapping orders that saved another man's life.
"That's me." Appearing to know what Vicky was thinking, Taylor nodded to her. "Danny Hebert's my dad."
Now Amy was staring too. "You put your dad in as head of the Betterment Committee? Isn't that a conflict of interest or something?"
Taylor's snort was pure Atropos. "You're acting like I should care about rules like that. I trust Dad to play things straight down the line, so I adjusted matters to make sure he'd be in the running for the top spot. Mayor Christner made the final call, though I'm fairly sure he picked Dad so if things did go to shit, he could claim that it wasn't one of his people at fault."
"But …" Vicky stumbled for words. When Atropos had been a faceless shadow with a terrifyingly sharp pair of shears and a gun that never missed, it was easy to see her as a force of nature. Tornadoes didn't need to have a grudge against the trailer parks they demolished, they just went ahead and did it. But now she was facing a girl of her own age in a tattered costume, patently vulnerable to injury, who had reasons for what she did. Mortal like the rest of them.
It was a paradigm shift that Vicky was having trouble getting her head around.
"Let me guess," Atropos said, not unkindly. "You want to know why I kill people? How I can bring myself to just End their lives, while at the same time helping out people like Amy?"
"Well … yes." Vicky wouldn't have put it quite as bluntly as that, but that was the gist of it. "Why murder?"
Taylor's eyes glinted. "Because nothing else was working."
"Yes, it was!" The retort burst out of her before she even had time to think about it. "We had police, PRT, and heroes! We were making a difference!"
"Bullshit." The word was flat and hard, and fell into the conversation like a lead brick. "You were treading water at best. Hookwolf and Lung both had Birdcage sentences, yet they were still walking the streets in broad daylight. How many times did Hookwolf get captured but escape from his transport because someone inside law enforcement leaked the route to the Empire Eighty-Eight? Three times, wasn't it?"
"We were keeping the crime down," Vicky persisted. "Keeping the streets safe."
"By letting the ABB extort 'protection' money and run prostitutes, many of whom were forced into the life. My ex-best-friend nearly ended up having her face mutilated for a gang initiation, in broad daylight, with a superhero standing right there and choosing not to intervene. Does that sound like the streets were being kept safe?"
"That doesn't sound right," objected Amy. "Which superhero was that?"
"Shadow Stalker." Taylor's voice may as well have been reading a name out of a phone book. "And yes, she was my first kill. The irony is, I didn't even do it for Emma. She was an edgelord psycho who never stepped in to help anyone unless they fought back first. But if the person she was bullying fought back, she came back twice as hard at them. She tried it on me, and ignored two warnings."
Amy nodded, remembering. "Yeah, I read about that on your PHO thread. She was actually bullying you before you were Atropos?"
"She was." Taylor didn't seem overly put out about it. "And then, once I got my powers, she wasn't. But we were talking about the ABB. Two capes, and nobody did a damn thing about them until I took care of matters."
"Well, okay, they were pretty bad," conceded Vicky, "but you have to admit, Lung was a tough nut to crack, especially with Oni Lee helping him."
Taylor gave her a level stare. "It took me four nights, and I Ended two other gangs while I was at it. As for the Merchants, they were hardly even a gang, but everyone just kept letting them deal drugs to kids anyway. And finally, the Empire Eighty-Eight had more capes in the city than all the heroes put together, and committed more cape crime than all the other villains put together. When was the last time any of them were even captured, much less spent a night in lockup?" Her eyebrows should've been treated as deadly weapons, the way she had them cocked and locked.
These were questions Vicky couldn't really find a good answer for, but she did her best anyway. "We couldn't fix everything at once. Anyway, when they cleared all the villains out of Boston, a new bunch came in and started fighting over turf. A lot of people got hurt before it was over. Tell her, Ames!" She looked over at her sister. Amy had been there too, putting pins in maps and relaying sightings.
"Why?" asked Amy. "I'm on her side."
While Vicky was still gaping at that, Taylor cleared her throat. "You'll notice that I did fix everything at once. Five nights, four gangs. Also, some capes did try to replay the Boston Games scenario. Some of them died, and some of them came in on my terms, and aren't villains anymore. Because the act of Ending someone isn't just a blunt instrument. Used right, it can be a scalpel too."
"Okay, okay, wait, hold on a second." Vicky wanted to address one thing at a time. "Ames, what the fuck? What do you mean, you're on her side? She kills people!"
Amy rolled her eyes as only she could. "I'm not into the murder thing. Obviously. But she's right when she says what we were doing wasn't working. And what she's been doing did actually fucking work. So there's got to be a third way, maybe just a tidal wave of heroes coming into a city and scouring out every last villain—"
"Sorry, but that wouldn't work." Taylor wasn't as scathing as she had been to Vicky, but her tone was equally definite. "While villains by themselves don't cause social problems for the most part, they do exacerbate existing ones, and make it a lot harder to eradicate every last trace of them. But if you only take the villains away, the issues remain and feed on each other. You've got to hit all aspects of a problem, or it just keeps cropping up again."
By now, Amy was nodding. "Infrastructure, crime, homelessness, poverty, unemployment, poor education, drug habituation, mental illness, yeah. Got it. You're stabbing all those problems with money."
"And to both get that money and to make sure it wouldn't be wasted once spent, I had to End a whole bunch of people who desperately needed it," Taylor agreed. "Plus an Endbringer." She gave Vicky a sly look. "I hope you're not going to hold the Simurgh against me too?"
Vicky had learned enough from her clashes with Atropos to know when to admit that continuing to argue would just make her look like the bad guy. Rolling her eyes, she shook her head with a chuckle. "Oh, just shut the fuck up and let my sister heal your sorry ass."
<><>
Clockblocker
"So, how's your dad, anyway?" asked Tenebrae idly. "Still doing well, I hope?"
Dennis nodded and grinned, though the latter was entirely hidden inside his helmet. "It's been a week, and he's getting stronger all the time. He went in for tests today, so we won't find out for another couple of days, but we're really optimistic." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Your cousin is amazing. Just saying."
"Yeah, she is." Tenebrae nodded in return. "She's helping knock some of the rougher edges off my little sister, and …" He paused. "Did you know Paladin is living with us?"
"Not officially, but it's gotten around, yeah." Dennis tilted his head. "Is it true that he's whats-his-name's kid? I mean, literally Captain Nazi Junior?" He figured that was safe enough to say around Ballinger. Assault wasn't telling him to shut up, anyway.
Tenebrae sighed. "I can neither confirm nor deny his identity, but I can tell you that Paladin has zero attitudes in that direction. Even though he's older than both of them, they treat him like their little brother."
"Aww, nice." Dennis was about to say more, but Assault cleared his throat and gestured sideways with his head. Looking that way, Dennis saw Chevalier on the way back. "Heads up, the big guy's incoming."
"So are Miss Medic and Shebang." Tenebrae was looking in the other direction. It kind of made sense that he'd be keeping an eye on his cousin. "They don't look too upset, so I'm guessing they came up with something."
Dennis snorted. "What did you expect? Lock two Tinkers in the same room together, and they'll either kill each other or bust out of there with a battle tank that flies and can turn into a giant robot."
"Don't you mean, a giant robot that flies and turns into a battle tank?"
"I meant what I said."
<><>
Tenebrae
"Okay, then," announced Riley, dusting her hands off in a businesslike way. "Shebang and I have pretty well figured out how we can maybe solve our problems."
Shebang put up a finger. "That's a pretty big 'maybe', hon. Also, it was basically all your idea."
Brian heard the bit she didn't say, loud and clear. So if it goes wrong, it's not my fault.
"Well, don't keep us all in suspense," Assault prompted. "What's the solution?"
Riley took a deep breath. "You might not be a fan of this, but here goes. Memory loss. We drop the loop, then we immediately revert his memories back to just before he went in. If he's got no memories of being tortured, he's not insane. If he's not insane, he's not under stress. If he's not under stress, he's got no reason to trigger. Then all I have to do is save his life—which, to be honest, Clock here could manage with a staple gun and half a dozen Band-Aids—and we're home and dry, yeah?"
Clockblocker held up his hand. "You're right. Not a fan. But … I can't really see another way to do it?" He drew the statement out like a question, as though hoping someone else would point out an alternative solution.
"It is an interesting concept," Chevalier observed neutrally. "How exactly were you going to revert his memories in a way that wouldn't cause additional stress?"
Riley grinned and pointed Shebang's way with two finger-guns. "Plan A is for our bomb-guru here to make two bombs, linked. The first bomb drops the loop. The second bomb absorbs the temporal energy from the loop and pops off in our victim's face, reverting everything in the area to what it was on whatever date he got Gray-Boy'd. We'd have to find that out, of course."
"I don't even know if that'll work, just saying," Shebang supplied. "Theoretically, it should. But there's a huge gap between 'theoretically' and 'reality'."
Assault rubbed his chin. "If you have a Plan A, then you have at least a Plan B. What's Plan B? Clockblocker lurking behind him with a big hammer?"
"No, that's plan Z." Riley said it so seriously that Brian was almost taken in for a second. "Plan B is that the second bomb hits him with an infused dose of stuff I can make that … um." She glanced around at everyone, still looking at her with interest, then went on. "That kind of causes a moderate amount of retrograde amnesia. Instant uptake, instant effect."
Clockblocker looked around at the group. "Am I the only one who doesn't know what retrograde amnesia is?"
"I don't," confessed Shebang.
"Likewise," said Assault.
Trooper Ballinger cleared his throat. "Isn't it loss of the memories from before whatever happened to you?"
"Holy shit!" blurted Clockblocker. "He speaks!" He turned to Ballinger. "Seriously, I was half wondering if you were a robot that Shebang made."
"I make bombs, doofus, not robots." Shebang rolled her eyes. "Trooper Ballinger is a perfectly nice man who volunteered to carry my cases for me."
Assault cleared his throat. "Trooper, on behalf of my Wards, I apologise for the rudeness. Especially considering that you knew more about what Miss Medic was referring to than half of us did."
Ballinger nodded. "I appreciate it, sir, but it's not a problem."
"Was there a Plan C?" asked Chevalier.
Riley nodded. "Yes, sir. Instead of a second bomb, Clockblocker freezes him and I apply the stuff as a topical ointment. Skin uptake isn't as fast as bomb infusion, so there's a chance he'll still trigger before it takes effect. And Plan D is … well, we call up Atropos and ask her to help out by killing his powers before he can do anything drastic, then we keep him sedated until we can deal with his mental problems."
"Hmm." Chevalier seemed to be thinking hard. "Let's leave any plans that involve calling on Atropos as extreme backup plans, shall we? For now … Shebang, for Plan A, what's the projected range on that time-reversion bomb, and do you need extra equipment to put it together?"
"Anything from fifteen feet to fifty feet, and I'll need to get some readings first." Shebang turned to Trooper Ballinger, and pointed. "I need that case, please."
"Ma'am." He picked up the left-hand case and hefted it forward a few feet, then stepped back.
"Thank you." Unsnapping the catches, she opened it to reveal a bewildering array of electronics, with an air of being slightly off that Brian was learning to recognise was a trademark of Tinker tech. He'd seen it in Kid Win's work as well as Armsmaster's, but Shebang's was even more obvious. Whether it was because she was newer or she just didn't care enough to try to make her stuff look more normal, he had no idea.
Sliding an instrument out of its niche, she began running it over the exterior of the bubble that enclosed the Gray Boy loop. Within, the hapless victim went through his endless cycle of being eviscerated, falling, resetting, stabbed, falling, over and over again. Brian didn't like it, but he'd seen worse as Grue, and he suspected he would again.
"Well, okay then." Shebang was focusing on the readouts to the point that Brian suspected she'd forgotten there was a man in there. "Gotta say, Clock, this is a lot easier than trying to get data out of your stupid rubber ball." She shut off the scanner while Brian was still trying to make sense of that, then turned to face Chevalier. "I've got good news and bad news, sir."
"Bad news first," he said promptly. "Is this even possible to do?"
"Oh, sure, it's possible." She tried a nonchalant twirl with her scanner, and it slipped out of her grasp, but Brian whipped out his hand and snagged it before it could drop all the way to the floor of the alley. "Shit! Um, wow, those are some crazy-ass reflexes you've got there."
"If you ever met my sister, you'd know why." He waited until he was sure she had a good grip on it before letting it go. The last thing he wanted was for her to have to go back to New York to build another scanner. "So, you were saying?"
"Oh, yeah." She took a deep breath. "It's totally doable. Buuuttttt … I just don't have the parts I need for the second bomb. Good news, I can build it, and I'm pretty sure I can make it work. I just need some stuff first."
"What do you need, and do you have it back in New York?" asked Chevalier.
"A bunch of rare earths," she admitted. "And no, I don't. So I'm gonna have to requisition it through Legend and Director Piggot. On the upside, once I've got it, I'm reasonably sure I can bust our buddy right out of grayscale world, and rewind his memory to day dot." She tucked the scanner back into the case and dusted her hands off, looking pleased with herself.
"So … we're not popping the cork today?" asked Clockblocker.
Brian shrugged. "It appears not."
"Understood." Chevalier nodded once, curtly. "Well, then. Let's get you back home, so you can work on that. Well done, by the way. Any progress is better than no progress at all."
As they filed out of the alleyway, Brian could feel the man's eyes on the back of his neck, but he didn't look back.
We'll get you out of there, buddy. Just not today.
<><>
Taylor
On my feet at last, I stretched and flexed my arms and legs. Already, I could feel my power retuning my newly rebuilt muscles to optimum fitness levels. "Well, that's definitely an improvement," I decided. "When I got here, I didn't have a leg to stand on."
Amy face-palmed, and Vicky groaned. "Wow, really?" Vicky groused. "Bad jokes, at a time like this?"
"Hey, there's always time for bad jokes." I tugged on what remained of my left sleeve and it came away, then I picked up the teleport module and slid it onto my arm. "It's amazing how many people underestimate you if you make a cheesy pun at the right moment."
"Now I know why you and Mouse Protector get along so well," Amy snarked. She nodded at the teleporter as I settled it into place. "Where did you get it from, anyway? I've seen a bit of Tinker tech before, but nothing as good as that."
"Leet, actually." Flicking up the cover, I tapped in the coordinates for my bedroom at home. "I had a word with him, my power had a word with his power, and what do you know, tech that doesn't blow up if you look at it wrong."
Vicky frowned. "What do you mean, your power had a word with his power? Powers don't talk to each other."
"Trump powers do," I corrected her. "Also, Jack Slash's power was built to talk to other powers. It was how he managed to stay around for so long. Any time a cape went after him, it was feeding him information under the table."
Amy nodded. "Yeah, I remember how you talked about what a cheating asshole he was."
"He was all of that. And when my power has a word with someone else's power, that power knows not to screw me over." I flipped the cover down again. "Need a hand cleaning up?"
"Pfft, nah." She waved her hand casually. "I got this. You're good at killing things, but I'm amazing at dealing with biological messes."
"Okay, yeah, point." I raised my (newly regrown) finger to get her attention, and Vicky's as well. "Before I go, there's two things I want to say. First, thank you both for being good sports. I truly appreciate it. And second, just remember that jumping straight to killing isn't the solution to dealing with villains. Not for you, anyway."
Vicky blinked. "Okay, I wasn't about to go out and start murdering villains, but isn't that a teensy bit hypocritical of you? You started offing people from the get-go. You've blown up warehouses and boats, and set fire to eighteen-wheelers. And I'm never going to forget what you did to Lung and Skidmark."
"All of that is true," I admitted. "Except for the hypocrisy bit. See, my power is basically called Ending. Its entire purpose is killing things: people, ideas, intentions, threats. It tells me who needs to die in order to End a problem, how to End them, and how to do it in order to get the reaction I want. But the result I want needs to involve Ending something. I can't just say, 'I want', and get it."
"And what you want is …?" Vicky prompted.
"Don't you read PHO at all?" Amy chided her. "She wants what we want. A safer and nicer Brockton Bay."
I clicked my tongue and made a finger-gun at her. "Got it in one."
Vicky nodded, her expression thoughtful. "Understood. Well, thanks for trusting us. Trusting me."
"Thanks for being trustworthy. Welp, my ride's here." I turned as the shadowy portal formed in mid-air. Giving both girls a nod, I stepped into it, emerging in my own bedroom.
Tattered costume and all, I pirouetted on my toes and fell backward onto the bed, letting out a huge sigh.
"Well," I informed the ceiling. "That was a day."
End of Part Ninety
- Location
- England
It was my understanding that shards pick out a whole bunch of potential hosts give them the 'Corona Pollentia', and it is only those who can trigger later. I don't know if it's made clear how many people can potentially trigger, (other than 'a lot'), but probably not 90%+
Stabbing problems with money is a valid tactic, but can't really be applied to everything, everywhere at once because even if that amount of money could be used it would up-fuck the economy beyond belief. Well, people with alien supercomputers meshed into their brain might be an exception. Notably, though, Atropos is stabbing with money (and otherwise) most problems for Brockton Bay and a few outside it, which is much more doable.
[Edit] Darn it. I regret starting this side track, which I didn't expect or wish to blow up, but no point deleting posts now. Cat's out the bag. Horses bolted. It looks like I'm being misunderstood as well, joy.
TL;DR: You can fix most of the problems for some of the people (with money) and you can fix some of the problems for most of the people (with money) but fixing all of the problems for all of the people (with money) would take a literal miracle.
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