On a Backwater Planet, a Metal Extractor is Built [PA/Multicross SI]
- Status
Glitchrr36
Slick's Short Company, CEO
- Location
- The Wastes
- Pronouns
- He/Him
you win one internet for getting the reference
- Location
- United Kingdom
Is this crack now?
Glitchrr36
Slick's Short Company, CEO
- Location
- The Wastes
- Pronouns
- He/Him
nope. Glitch just tends to give significantly less of a fuck about consequences than basically any other commander I've read, and probably a fair number that I haven't.
Just a heads up, you might want to edit this into your other post above it, the mods tend to at the very least frown upon double posting. Just a friendly FYI.SO much AWESOME IT CANNOT BE CONTAINED!!
Glitchrr36
Slick's Short Company, CEO
- Location
- The Wastes
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Eh, there was a few days between posts, that's generally fine with the moss.
Chapter Thirty Six: inb4 morality debate
Glitchrr36
Slick's Short Company, CEO
- Location
- The Wastes
- Pronouns
- He/Him
So today is the one year anniversary of OaBWPaMEiB! In celebration, I'll be releasing the next chapter by the end of the day, and I'm going to see how much I can get written for the next arc. It's close! As always, please comment, it often helps.
So the fuckwits were terrorizing some Podunk out in the middle of nowhere, probably a supply raid since six people needed to eat, and what they could fit in the semi didn't last long with how much space Crawler took up.
Now that I know their location, I need a plan. Manton is going first. While the Siberian's physical prowess was nothing to scoff at, it was that utter bitch of a power that was the projection's invulnerability share that I wanted out of the way first. I'll kill or remove most, and Jack will get the special treatment, as well as having me taunt him get livestreamed.
I hadn't been idle while waiting to track the bastards down to somewhere I could level without feeling too bad about myself, should worst come to worst. It was small, so should I need to start flinging heavy ordnance around, most of the people would probably already be dead by that point.
But onto the tech porn! The first, and most important thing was combining my nanomachines (which, now that I had to make some massive alterations to, turned out to actually nonbaryonic matter, which put the piss in my cornflakes for a bit), the nanothorn stuff (a completely different type of exotic matter, joy), some concepts derived from Grue, and a bunch of other bits of tinkertech to make what was, in effect, technological Blacklight, the red bits with kickass glowy blue bits. It could also change density quite easily, allowing a wispy mass flowing down my mantle-trench coat for effect to become a spear-like tendril that can go through a tank. I could also use it to fabricate stuff, which was nice
That was added to my mantle-coat thing, so I could have a roiling cloud of darkness, a fairly covert scanning mechanism, a very potent melee weapons systems, and dakka on the go. I might try taking down the nine while not actually moving if the power distribution works as intended. Hell, I could sit in a hammock with a fucking coconut drink in the middle of the city while garroting the fuckers. Yes, I'll do that. Many lulz will be had at the expense of the Nine as I trivialize all of the shit they've put people through.
Wonder if I'll be able to figure out how to fix the Grey Boy stuff. Eh, I'll get there when I get there.
Next were a bunch of tanks with new tinkertech upgrades and weapons on my various tanks, including hover systems on all of them. I could now launch assaults from basically anywhere, since the only difference between a hovercraft and aircraft when using gravitronic lift systems is altitude.
Then more bots, most of which were just variants of other bots with new weapons so I didn't bother naming them. I should look into making a couple frames for everything and modifying them as needed instead of the hundreds of different bot types I currently had. Work for later, I suppose.
I've also got an SXX platform in orbit, because if anything is going to get rid of that damn van, it's an orbital murder laser.
Actually, I can pop Manton into a pocket dimension and experiment on the powers later. Let's do that.
And now, to just teleport into the center of town, set up a few fake palm trees, string a hammock between them, put on some relaxing music, and kill the worst psychopaths on the planet, all while drinking something nice and tropical for the middle of Idaho.
=====================================================================
Jack blinked, because immediately after that fuck-off huge beam descending from above, the Siberian vanished. Apparently someone knew about Manton.
Well, shit. Things just got more interesting.
Though, having someone who couldn't be beaten, and ensured that the rest of your team was indestructable for short amounts of time was a bit boring, Jack had to admit. Though the question was who had been able to find them, get either a tinker tech ground attack craft (of which there was an incredibly small amount of in the world, Alan liked him to keep up to date with tinker news), or a satellite into position, and then presumably have plans for the rest of them.
They'd have to be careful, he'd track down the rest of his band as stealthily as possible so they knew not to do anything stupid. Knowing some of them, it might be too late.
=====================================================================
This was a good drink. Coconut, pineapple, some lime, and pureed banana with a tiny paper umbrella completed my tiny tropical island I'd made in the center of this small, Nine-ridden town.
Though I guess it's seven, now. Butchershop 7. Has a nice ring to it.
Let's see who's next, shall we? I spy, with my little network of thousands of optical sensors, something covered in glass. Stupid of her to leave most of the back of her head open, though I guess filling her hair with glass would protect her in most situations.
Assemble a small caliber railgun with my new black and blue goo stuff, assemble a portal on the building behind her, wave at Jack, who's likely telling her someone's coming after them, and BAM!
Down to Six. Delishop 6. Also has a nice ring to it.
=====================================================================
Someone was fucking with him. He'd seen that stuff wave at him as Shatterbird's head exploded. He'd have to call the rest, though that might give away their positions. If someone could take out two of the most dangerous parts of his team in the span of ten minutes, they were in trouble.
He dialled Burnscar first, she was the least valuable and if he heard her die while warning her he'd just have to track them all down because it was unlikely .
=====================================================================
"...You put the Lime in the Coconut and drink it all up. You put the Lime in the coconut and call the doctor woke him up. I say doctor! Is there nothing I can take I say Doctor! To relieve this belly ache?"
That is a nice, relaxing song for my tropical vacation to Idaho or wherever I am. Very relaxing. I'm having more fun than I've had in awhile, here.
Oh, there goes Jack, calling Burnscar. Luckily I just found mannequin instead.
I think I'll teleport him to a moon. He had dreams of something self sustaining on the moon, did he not? It'd be fitting.
...I just realized how silly I must look. Here I am, a dude in huge ass power armor, sitting in a hammock, sipping a fruity drink through a crazy straw probably eight feet long, attached to the beak of my mask. The hammock is attached to two massive fake palm trees, and I've got a little pile of sand around their bases, and what I've always called tropical music playing from some speakers.
The nine are going to be humiliated after this. And dead. But mostly humiliated.
Open a little portal under Mannequin, he falls into a small room, close portal, open a portal through there to Charon, and viola. He's never going to be a problem again. And he gets to live his dream of having something self sustaining on a moon. A win for everybody.
This is going swimmingly.
Hmmm… I think I'll isolate Burnscar, and remove her powers. Cherish can just be killed, and Bonesaw I'll render vegatative and keep her around until I can disable all of her traps. Then I'll just take out the bits of her brain I need and dispose of the rest. Crawler gets to get teleported into orbit around Jupiter. Maybe the plasma torus will kill him, otherwise, I'll just teleport a couple of thrusters on to him to bring him below orbital velocity, so he slowly falls into the planet. Surviving the cold, plasma torus, and various other orbital hazards should put him in the position where the buggy fuck can't try to escape, if he survives.
And there go all of Bonesaw's creations to the pocket dimension for disassembly, I might be able to help the sorry bastards.
Open a portal under crawler, where he gets sucked into space, and close it. Easy as building a gun that can shoot robots to the moon.
Oop! Found Cherish. She's being a horrible excuse for a human being again. I don't really care what horrible thing she's doing with her powers this time, so I'll just laser her. Good riddance.
And then there were like three or something
=====================================================================
If Jack Slash had to summarize the day in less than five words, he'd probably describe it as "not going as planned." They were just here to restock on food, kill a bunch of civilians, then leave. Not get destroyed like they were.
From his attempts to call the others, he could tell that Cherish, Mannequin, and Crawler were dead, the latter being surprisingly precise with his tentacles, considering very few people would assume he could do any fine manipulation at all, and the middle being able to tap on the microphone in morse code. He knew Shatterbird and the Siberian were dead, leaving just him, Burnscar, and Bonesaw. Considering whoever was doing this was foolishly saving him for last (most likely, you could never tell when you had no goddamn idea who or where your enemy was), he had to get his poppet safe quickly. Burnscar was expendable, and it was rather surprising that she had lasted this long.
It was, unfortunately, almost guaranteed that Poppet would be next, and considering the fact they'd only been here for a few hours meant that he only had around thirty minutes at most before she was taken out, and then it would probably be just him left. He could probably escape, but on his own he was fairly week. The only reason that the Triumvirate didn't hunt them down was because they had had members that were invincible. Now? If their mystery assailant didn't kill them all first, hordes of powered and nonpowered individuals would be out for the bounty on his and whoever else remained heads.
It was a nightmare.
=====================================================================
Ah, this was a dream come true. Easy picking off of motherfuckers, easy going with my tropical drink and the smooth voice of Harry Belafonte, and Bonesaw in a basement stitching some capes together for me to cut out her capability to do anything by scrambling her brain. The weirdass nonbaryonic particles that made up my basic construction tool had an insidiously easy time entering the most protected areas of a body, and it wasn't hard to corrode a neuron if you could take bits of chemicals like ethanol and radionuclei and insert them directly into a cell, and pull important organelles and things to pieces. She might have been good, but changing every individual cell's defenses was outside basically every tinker's abilities. Most of her cellular engineering involved making one cell then replicating it, which was child's play in comparison to what you would have to do to safeguard every cell in the body from something that doesn't naturally occur in quantities large enough to worry about. Her significantly improved immune system didn't even notice the primarily top/bottom quark and muon based construction of my bots. In a few minutes, I'd effectively rewritten most of her personality centers and all of the stuff important to being a functional human being to something with roughly the same autonomy as a dox.
After a while, enough of her brain had been scrambled enough that she just sat there, doing the minimum required to continue living. After a few minutes to test everything, I opened a gate to a sterile room orbiting a different Pluto, and had her begin disabling all of her countermeasures and set up an interface so I could download every idea she'd had and then discard the rest of her soon to be useless meat.
I grabbed most of the stuff she made, as I really wanted Hatchet Face's power nullification, and I could probably go about saving the rest of them if I tried.
After that, I popped a hole under Burnscar, fucked with her power a bit, deciding that it would be better she not have to go to regular prison and get turned into so much hamburger meat without powers, and used some of the knowledge acquired from Bonesaw to rework her connection so she just made more fire depending on her emotional state, and made the fire a bit harder to control, altered the way the power affects her baseline brain chemistry so she was a bit more erratic, then stuck a note to her head saying what I did and shipped her back to the asylum.
Now for Jack. I've been looking forward to this.
So the fuckwits were terrorizing some Podunk out in the middle of nowhere, probably a supply raid since six people needed to eat, and what they could fit in the semi didn't last long with how much space Crawler took up.
Now that I know their location, I need a plan. Manton is going first. While the Siberian's physical prowess was nothing to scoff at, it was that utter bitch of a power that was the projection's invulnerability share that I wanted out of the way first. I'll kill or remove most, and Jack will get the special treatment, as well as having me taunt him get livestreamed.
I hadn't been idle while waiting to track the bastards down to somewhere I could level without feeling too bad about myself, should worst come to worst. It was small, so should I need to start flinging heavy ordnance around, most of the people would probably already be dead by that point.
But onto the tech porn! The first, and most important thing was combining my nanomachines (which, now that I had to make some massive alterations to, turned out to actually nonbaryonic matter, which put the piss in my cornflakes for a bit), the nanothorn stuff (a completely different type of exotic matter, joy), some concepts derived from Grue, and a bunch of other bits of tinkertech to make what was, in effect, technological Blacklight, the red bits with kickass glowy blue bits. It could also change density quite easily, allowing a wispy mass flowing down my mantle-trench coat for effect to become a spear-like tendril that can go through a tank. I could also use it to fabricate stuff, which was nice
That was added to my mantle-coat thing, so I could have a roiling cloud of darkness, a fairly covert scanning mechanism, a very potent melee weapons systems, and dakka on the go. I might try taking down the nine while not actually moving if the power distribution works as intended. Hell, I could sit in a hammock with a fucking coconut drink in the middle of the city while garroting the fuckers. Yes, I'll do that. Many lulz will be had at the expense of the Nine as I trivialize all of the shit they've put people through.
Wonder if I'll be able to figure out how to fix the Grey Boy stuff. Eh, I'll get there when I get there.
Next were a bunch of tanks with new tinkertech upgrades and weapons on my various tanks, including hover systems on all of them. I could now launch assaults from basically anywhere, since the only difference between a hovercraft and aircraft when using gravitronic lift systems is altitude.
Then more bots, most of which were just variants of other bots with new weapons so I didn't bother naming them. I should look into making a couple frames for everything and modifying them as needed instead of the hundreds of different bot types I currently had. Work for later, I suppose.
I've also got an SXX platform in orbit, because if anything is going to get rid of that damn van, it's an orbital murder laser.
Actually, I can pop Manton into a pocket dimension and experiment on the powers later. Let's do that.
And now, to just teleport into the center of town, set up a few fake palm trees, string a hammock between them, put on some relaxing music, and kill the worst psychopaths on the planet, all while drinking something nice and tropical for the middle of Idaho.
=====================================================================
Jack blinked, because immediately after that fuck-off huge beam descending from above, the Siberian vanished. Apparently someone knew about Manton.
Well, shit. Things just got more interesting.
Though, having someone who couldn't be beaten, and ensured that the rest of your team was indestructable for short amounts of time was a bit boring, Jack had to admit. Though the question was who had been able to find them, get either a tinker tech ground attack craft (of which there was an incredibly small amount of in the world, Alan liked him to keep up to date with tinker news), or a satellite into position, and then presumably have plans for the rest of them.
They'd have to be careful, he'd track down the rest of his band as stealthily as possible so they knew not to do anything stupid. Knowing some of them, it might be too late.
=====================================================================
This was a good drink. Coconut, pineapple, some lime, and pureed banana with a tiny paper umbrella completed my tiny tropical island I'd made in the center of this small, Nine-ridden town.
Though I guess it's seven, now. Butchershop 7. Has a nice ring to it.
Let's see who's next, shall we? I spy, with my little network of thousands of optical sensors, something covered in glass. Stupid of her to leave most of the back of her head open, though I guess filling her hair with glass would protect her in most situations.
Assemble a small caliber railgun with my new black and blue goo stuff, assemble a portal on the building behind her, wave at Jack, who's likely telling her someone's coming after them, and BAM!
Down to Six. Delishop 6. Also has a nice ring to it.
=====================================================================
Someone was fucking with him. He'd seen that stuff wave at him as Shatterbird's head exploded. He'd have to call the rest, though that might give away their positions. If someone could take out two of the most dangerous parts of his team in the span of ten minutes, they were in trouble.
He dialled Burnscar first, she was the least valuable and if he heard her die while warning her he'd just have to track them all down because it was unlikely .
=====================================================================
"...You put the Lime in the Coconut and drink it all up. You put the Lime in the coconut and call the doctor woke him up. I say doctor! Is there nothing I can take I say Doctor! To relieve this belly ache?"
That is a nice, relaxing song for my tropical vacation to Idaho or wherever I am. Very relaxing. I'm having more fun than I've had in awhile, here.
Oh, there goes Jack, calling Burnscar. Luckily I just found mannequin instead.
I think I'll teleport him to a moon. He had dreams of something self sustaining on the moon, did he not? It'd be fitting.
...I just realized how silly I must look. Here I am, a dude in huge ass power armor, sitting in a hammock, sipping a fruity drink through a crazy straw probably eight feet long, attached to the beak of my mask. The hammock is attached to two massive fake palm trees, and I've got a little pile of sand around their bases, and what I've always called tropical music playing from some speakers.
The nine are going to be humiliated after this. And dead. But mostly humiliated.
Open a little portal under Mannequin, he falls into a small room, close portal, open a portal through there to Charon, and viola. He's never going to be a problem again. And he gets to live his dream of having something self sustaining on a moon. A win for everybody.
This is going swimmingly.
Hmmm… I think I'll isolate Burnscar, and remove her powers. Cherish can just be killed, and Bonesaw I'll render vegatative and keep her around until I can disable all of her traps. Then I'll just take out the bits of her brain I need and dispose of the rest. Crawler gets to get teleported into orbit around Jupiter. Maybe the plasma torus will kill him, otherwise, I'll just teleport a couple of thrusters on to him to bring him below orbital velocity, so he slowly falls into the planet. Surviving the cold, plasma torus, and various other orbital hazards should put him in the position where the buggy fuck can't try to escape, if he survives.
And there go all of Bonesaw's creations to the pocket dimension for disassembly, I might be able to help the sorry bastards.
Open a portal under crawler, where he gets sucked into space, and close it. Easy as building a gun that can shoot robots to the moon.
Oop! Found Cherish. She's being a horrible excuse for a human being again. I don't really care what horrible thing she's doing with her powers this time, so I'll just laser her. Good riddance.
And then there were like three or something
=====================================================================
If Jack Slash had to summarize the day in less than five words, he'd probably describe it as "not going as planned." They were just here to restock on food, kill a bunch of civilians, then leave. Not get destroyed like they were.
From his attempts to call the others, he could tell that Cherish, Mannequin, and Crawler were dead, the latter being surprisingly precise with his tentacles, considering very few people would assume he could do any fine manipulation at all, and the middle being able to tap on the microphone in morse code. He knew Shatterbird and the Siberian were dead, leaving just him, Burnscar, and Bonesaw. Considering whoever was doing this was foolishly saving him for last (most likely, you could never tell when you had no goddamn idea who or where your enemy was), he had to get his poppet safe quickly. Burnscar was expendable, and it was rather surprising that she had lasted this long.
It was, unfortunately, almost guaranteed that Poppet would be next, and considering the fact they'd only been here for a few hours meant that he only had around thirty minutes at most before she was taken out, and then it would probably be just him left. He could probably escape, but on his own he was fairly week. The only reason that the Triumvirate didn't hunt them down was because they had had members that were invincible. Now? If their mystery assailant didn't kill them all first, hordes of powered and nonpowered individuals would be out for the bounty on his and whoever else remained heads.
It was a nightmare.
=====================================================================
Ah, this was a dream come true. Easy picking off of motherfuckers, easy going with my tropical drink and the smooth voice of Harry Belafonte, and Bonesaw in a basement stitching some capes together for me to cut out her capability to do anything by scrambling her brain. The weirdass nonbaryonic particles that made up my basic construction tool had an insidiously easy time entering the most protected areas of a body, and it wasn't hard to corrode a neuron if you could take bits of chemicals like ethanol and radionuclei and insert them directly into a cell, and pull important organelles and things to pieces. She might have been good, but changing every individual cell's defenses was outside basically every tinker's abilities. Most of her cellular engineering involved making one cell then replicating it, which was child's play in comparison to what you would have to do to safeguard every cell in the body from something that doesn't naturally occur in quantities large enough to worry about. Her significantly improved immune system didn't even notice the primarily top/bottom quark and muon based construction of my bots. In a few minutes, I'd effectively rewritten most of her personality centers and all of the stuff important to being a functional human being to something with roughly the same autonomy as a dox.
After a while, enough of her brain had been scrambled enough that she just sat there, doing the minimum required to continue living. After a few minutes to test everything, I opened a gate to a sterile room orbiting a different Pluto, and had her begin disabling all of her countermeasures and set up an interface so I could download every idea she'd had and then discard the rest of her soon to be useless meat.
I grabbed most of the stuff she made, as I really wanted Hatchet Face's power nullification, and I could probably go about saving the rest of them if I tried.
After that, I popped a hole under Burnscar, fucked with her power a bit, deciding that it would be better she not have to go to regular prison and get turned into so much hamburger meat without powers, and used some of the knowledge acquired from Bonesaw to rework her connection so she just made more fire depending on her emotional state, and made the fire a bit harder to control, altered the way the power affects her baseline brain chemistry so she was a bit more erratic, then stuck a note to her head saying what I did and shipped her back to the asylum.
Now for Jack. I've been looking forward to this.
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Sakuya's Butler
A refined Butler to a knife wielding Mistress.
- Location
- ↓, ↘, → + Punch
As a member of the Security! Fandom, might I remind you that Bonesaw was pretty much mind raped + Stockholm Syndrome'd + tortured (physically and psychologically) by Jack to the point her mental state broke under the strain? Damn near the only thing he didn't do to her was actually raping her physically. All his efforts helped drag a 10yr old who had no desire to hurt anyone, through hell, and out the other end came the 11-12yr old Bonesaw.
If nothing else, deprogramming a small chunk of the Nine, and then revealing Jack had Mastered them the entire time like meat puppets, would do far more good than killing them all off.
If nothing else, deprogramming a small chunk of the Nine, and then revealing Jack had Mastered them the entire time like meat puppets, would do far more good than killing them all off.
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Arafell
Verified Cephalon
- Location
- Oregon
Morality debate? What's morality? I think you must mean mortality debate as we don't know whether or not Jacky boi will live.
But the earth bet is significantly harsher with laws. There is a kill order on bonesaws head and it is perfectly legal to kill her.
I'd rather not have a tinker that can cause mass plagues have a relapse. Just because bad shit happened to her doesn't mean she didn't do bad shit.
Kaesar
The Son of Mars
- Location
- USA
Which does not excuse any of her actions. Just because she went through bad shit doesn't mean that we have to heal her mind because of said bad shit. All the death and destruction she have cause regardless of what she went through to become Bonesaw and you want to keep her alive. I understand sympathy, but every member of the Nine is monster and deserve to be killed regardless of how they became a monster.
I give zero shits that Bonesaw was as you said "mind raped + Stockholm Syndrome'd + tortured (physically and psychologically) by Jack." I don't give a damn on how old she is. Because leaving her alive is an insult to all her victims, that she is more important than everyone she had killed or help killed. Because she went through bad things and she should be forgiven of the actions she has taken due to those bad things.
Fuck that. Just kill her.
themisticShroud
The Red King And His Court
- Location
- The Seireitei
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Chapter Thirty Seven: In which bastards are dealt with
Glitchrr36
Slick's Short Company, CEO
- Location
- The Wastes
- Pronouns
- He/Him
I've been subtly directing Jack towards my direction with railgun fire to his feet. He seems to be getting the hint, so I'm prepared to give him a verbal smackdown the likes of which he dreams he could give.
I also turn off all vibrational and audio sensory devices within about twenty miles of myself so he couldn't talk his way out of this.
And there's the man himself. Better give him the warmest welcome I feel he deserves. I send out tendrils of Goop, and like that he's restrained.
"Sup fuckface. How does it feel having everything you've ever built come crashing down around you? Like when you found out your parents were psychos? Maybe you want to go back in your box? Get away from how scary the real world is?"
Now, that last statement may seem random and nonsensical, but it had the exact effect I was looking for. His eyes widened and he stiffened.
Now, Jack's trigger, according to Wildbow, had been getting let out of the bunker his sick fucking parents had stuck him in for some inane reasons most likely related to mental illness, and then finding out surprise! World War Three hadn't broken out, you just have shitty parents!
It was this knowledge that allowed me to prep his own personal hell.
"So, Jackie boy, how does it feel? Oh wait, I can't hear you, because just because you don't know you've been cheating your way around, doesn't mean you can't do so. You have a thinker power to coerce parahumans, which is why the nine has lasted this long. I'm going to bet you actually thought you had enough charisma to lead your merry gang of murder hobos as long as you did."
I turned to look at him, watching his lips flap. It was funny.
"Well, that's all the time we have for today, so, good luck Fucknozzle McDouchecunt. Have a nice ride."
Another quick teleport, a quick spritzing with nanobots, and an engaging of thrusters bringing Jack's little cell to the slow speed of 10km/s, he began his long, slow trip towards the nearest star.
"I hope you like Elevator Muzak, Jack, because that's what you get to hear for the next 131 thousand and eight years on your trip to another star. I'm not going to let you die, either. So, have fun! I'll even give you a window, so you can see the endless expanses of existence, of which you won't be able to affect at all. I think you'll find it amusing you're going to die with a whimper, when nobody even remembers your name. Or not. It could go either way. One last thing, I'm changing your perception of time, so every second will feel like a second, and you'll be completely rational the whole time. No space madness for you, buckeroo!"
And with that, I cut the connection to the little box flying towards another star at low velocities. I'll speed it up enough to break the gravity well of the sun, but that'll be about it. I also make sure to pull out the connection to Broadcast to see about popping it into my brain like I did with Dragon's shard. Fascinating thing, that. It tingled a bit in my code before everything smoothed out.
Now on to something else!
=====================================================================
So it turns out converting a large portion of the surrounding atmosphere around someone's head to hydrogen cyanide is actually pretty fucking lethal! Who would have thought?
Probably not the Three Blasphemies, who are currently lying on the ground, dead. They tend to respawn if the others are alive, but if not, well… they don't.
One more problem out of the way, and more shards for my mind. This is probably a good thing. Or not, who can fucking tell. All I need are some of the big storage shards, so if Eidolon or Glastig ever kick the bucket for whatever reason I've got those. Or Taylor, should worst come to worst, though she seems to be enjoying life so that'd make me feel like a dick.
Eh, It doesn't particularly matter.
Or I could copy it. I think that's a good idea.
Should probably start prepping for the next Endbringer. I'll need to talk to Flechette first, but other than that all I need is to finish prepping Operation: Soft Rain to deal with the fucker.
Dis Gun B Gud.
=====================================================================
That was monumentally tedious. Fucking paperwork man. All I wanted to do was pick through a minor's hippocampus with exotic matter. Is that too fucking much to ask? Apparently it is, if the fact that they had a guy behind a wall with an anti-tank rifle pointed at me the whole time indicated anything. Not that it'd do shit, in any case.
Well, it's done, I can pretty much replicate Sting's effects, and am in the process of accessing the Shard itself. Being able to shoot AP:yes projectiles is pretty appealing.
Then I can deal with the Endbringers, which free me up so I can deal with Zion, then consume Eden's corpse, then go about eating any other hostile entities, then move on.
Blah, who to deal with next? The Fallen probably.
Huh, a quick check on their secure networks shows they've been looking for me. I guess they were a little angry about what I did.
Meh, fuck 'em. I can deal with them after I kill one of their sorry gods.
I'll deal with all of the fucking asswipes in Africa. Engaging teleportation grid. There goes Moord Nag, Aphula, Oku Aka, Tekusi, and a half dozen other warlords. Now to steal their powers.
And there go the shards, to be added to the growing mini-entity that is me. And Sting, which I just stole a bud from.
should probably see if I can do something about the resource issues. Availability of resources is the start of most wars and all, so if everyone has enough food, water, and power, conflict should go down. Anyone who tries to monopolize it can get fucking Dox'd.
And now to see what I can do about the remaining issues.
=====================================================================
"Colin, you'd better look at this."
Dragon only ever interrupted his work if it was something important. Still, he was almost done with the updates to the predictive system's code, and loathed distraction at any point in tinkering, but especially when he was this far along. Still, he got up and looked.
"Alright, what am I looking at?"
The image showed a craft hanging in LEO, of a design he had never seen before. The overall shape was almost arrowhead like, and barring some small gun emplacements and arms, almost featureless. The bottom was dominated by a large, almost missile like object, though it didn't have what Colin would call a rocket motor, in fact, it was shaped differently than any other method of propulsion he'd ever seen, including some very advanced Tinker ones, though it had some similarities with the fusion rocket design he'd seen for one of the theoretical Endbringer killer weapons, and had what looked like the interior of a ramjet from the suit following it at a few thousand kilometers. The colors of the craft marked it as probably belonging to Commander, and given the scale superimposed on the image it had to be at least as large as the Rig, if not larger, as he couldn't tell the dimensions overall from the angle it was at. Strobing panels pulsed a dull red along the surface, seemingly altering the ship's course.
After watching it and discussing the potential purposes for about fifteen minutes, it apparently reached the correct point, and released the rod, the clamp arms retracting into the hull with nary a seam. Small glowing bands similar to the ones on the mothership began pulsing, correcting the course and sending it into the atmosphere.
"What's it doing? It's not above much of anything right now just the South...Atlantic...Pull up a map of Leviathan's movements, please." If his hunch was right…
The map showed a familiar line squiggling around the bottom of the South Atlantic. He'd been looking at a similar image scant hours ago, working on the software before hitting a block and needed to relax by working out some kinks in his combat predictive software.
It was also directly in the path of what he now realized was a KKV the size of a blue whale.
The outer covering began to burn away as it assumed a course that would, in approximately five minutes, intersect with the rough area of Leviathan. As it began heating up, a strange black glow began emanating from the sharp nose.
"Is he going to try to hit leviathan with a kinetic projectile?" Dragon sounded incredulous. Colin just sat there with his jaw open for a few seconds before Dragon's question registered.
"I…I think so. He's either the most moronic individual to ever try to kill one of the beasts, from the sheer cost that ship would require to be built, or is going to be most smug in a few minutes because, honestly? With the bullshit he's already pulled off I wouldn't be surprised if this works."
As they talked and watched the projectile fall via the camera one of Dragon's high speed drones carried, small fins continued to alter the projectile's path as it accelerated to speeds in excess of mach thirty-two, the design of the bizarre thruster at the rear revealing its purpose when a gout of superheated plasma spewed from the rear, and a massive shockwave that would likely be felt on the coasts of every continent bordering that the ocean formed behind it. After a time that felt paradoxically endless and all too short, the KKV hit the water, smoothly sliding in as the thruster began using water for thrust, somehow, and lost almost no speed before going down and keeping a direct path toward the wildly zigzagging monster. Seconds later, the surface of the ocean exploded in a cloud of water taller than any skyscraper. Waves began propagating outward, and would likely remain massive as they hit the coasts of the world. But the real important thing was going on under the waves.
The point on the graph indicated Leviathan stopped, as a massive thermal bloom occurred, further compounding to the potential death toll this would cause. A few minutes later, the drone entered the water, and began moving down towards where Leviathan had last been spotted.
The eighty foot long, two foot wide kinetic projectile had apparently slammed into Leviathan, and passed right through. Like a puppet with it's strings cut, it was drifting loosely on the roiling current formed from what a very quick calculation was likely an explosion between sixty and seventy million tons of TNT exploding in the deep ocean. Very soon after, a flash of light signified the arrival of a small submarine, again with Commander's colors, which proceeded to grab the corpse of the Endbringer and disappear with another flash, but deposited a small block with an antenna on it, which projected a shield big enough to contain the worst of the waves to minimize damage.
Colin looked at the image of Dragon.
Dragon looked at Colin.
Colin reached under his desk, and pressed a button. Seconds later, one of the support columns near his workspace had a small hatch open with a puff of condensation, revealing a bottle of hard liquor that probably cost as much as an average motorcycle.
Colin took a long pull straight from the bottle.
"You don't normally drink."
"I believe it to be appropriate. Now to go inform Legend and Piggot."
Dragon nodded, and began working on her own reports, and press releases, because this wouldn't stay under wraps for long.
=====================================================================
Dave was pretty content with his life. He'd made enough money to retire early, and was living out his dreams to live in Cali and surf as often as possible. The news had promised some righteous swells, and it did not disappoint.
After a few hours riding the waves, he took a break to grab a snack. Sitting on his towel, he noticed someone walking in towards shore, that he hadn't noticed before. He shrugged and continued to munch on the bag of chips. Swimmers walking back onto shore wasn't uncommon.
Five minutes later, he heard grunting, and was shocked to see the person from before was wearing a massive hooked mask, armor on his limbs, and a pair of Hawaiian print swim trunks with a shirt from the Monterey Aquarium. Even more surprising, however, was the massive, green and black thing he was carrying. Dave couldn't make out what it was but it was big.
"Need some help, dude?" he called, hoping to not get an answer, because cape shit was always bad news, unless it was a Protectorate PR stunt. The man stopped and looked at him.
"Yeah, man. I need directions to the PRT national HQ." He said with a heavily synthesised voice and the faintest hints of a southern twang.
"Uh, sure, just head up the street behind me and take a left on 14th. I think there's a tour station there, they have pamphlets that should have directions." The cape gave him a thumbs up, and and went back to hauling his cargo out of the surf. With a start, dave recognized the form of the middle child of the Endbringers, which was limp and looked like it had gone through hell, with a massive hole through the center of the torso bleeding black ichor, and most of its skin charred black. Its eyes were dark, and it wasn't dripping any more than something just pulled from the sea would. The cape dropped the tail, and walked over to dave, and handed him a slightly damp hundred dollar bill.
"Thanks man. I'll go and collect my bounty, should be out of your way in a bit. Waves are really nice, I can see why you're out here when the water's forty degrees."
Dave just nodded, and the cape walked off to continue hauling the Sunderer of Kyushu up the beach, eventually bringing a little floating dolly out of nowhere and hauling the carcass on it. A tourist was taking pictures, and Dave could hear the distinctive "Weeeeroooo" of the PRT vans approaching. The Cape payed it no heed, and continued walking until out of sight from the beach.
Dave went back to surfing, and tried to forget what he'd seen.
=====================================================================
Rebecca Costa-Brown was having a fairly average morning until one of the various phones rang, and the regional director started babbling about Endbringers. She waited, then had him start over, and talk slower.
"Right, uh, ma'am. Uh, some...some guy, matches the files on Commander, the uh, guy, on the east coast, just dragged Leviathan, uh, out of the ocean, and is now walking towards my building. And Leviathan is dead. What do I do?" He sounded close to tears, and she tried to remain calm. After a few minutes she responded.
"I'm sending Alexandria to deal with this, just wait for her."
Telling her secretary to hold her calls for a bit, she Door'd in her body double, and suited up to go meet Commander.
A few minutes later, she arrived at the location, flying from the Protectorate headquarters nearby. And sure enough, there was Commander, hauling the thing with the single highest body count on the planet, and it was in a sorry state. The cape dragging it looked up and waved.
"Hi Alexandria! Just thought I'd come claim my reward for this. I got some new stuff and wanted to test it out, and decided Leviathan was the easiest target. Are there any protocols for this or do I just get an island or something?"
What.
Leviathan being the easiest to kill…?
WHAT!?
"Uhhh...I don't think we have anything for killing an Endbringer, but I'll call some people to take the body off your hands, if you want."
"Sure, I'd like it back though. I want to see if I can pose it so it looks like the Birth of Venus painting. Or I'll cut off the head and use it as an ottoman. One of the two."
This man was clearly fucking insane.
I also turn off all vibrational and audio sensory devices within about twenty miles of myself so he couldn't talk his way out of this.
And there's the man himself. Better give him the warmest welcome I feel he deserves. I send out tendrils of Goop, and like that he's restrained.
"Sup fuckface. How does it feel having everything you've ever built come crashing down around you? Like when you found out your parents were psychos? Maybe you want to go back in your box? Get away from how scary the real world is?"
Now, that last statement may seem random and nonsensical, but it had the exact effect I was looking for. His eyes widened and he stiffened.
Now, Jack's trigger, according to Wildbow, had been getting let out of the bunker his sick fucking parents had stuck him in for some inane reasons most likely related to mental illness, and then finding out surprise! World War Three hadn't broken out, you just have shitty parents!
It was this knowledge that allowed me to prep his own personal hell.
"So, Jackie boy, how does it feel? Oh wait, I can't hear you, because just because you don't know you've been cheating your way around, doesn't mean you can't do so. You have a thinker power to coerce parahumans, which is why the nine has lasted this long. I'm going to bet you actually thought you had enough charisma to lead your merry gang of murder hobos as long as you did."
I turned to look at him, watching his lips flap. It was funny.
"Well, that's all the time we have for today, so, good luck Fucknozzle McDouchecunt. Have a nice ride."
Another quick teleport, a quick spritzing with nanobots, and an engaging of thrusters bringing Jack's little cell to the slow speed of 10km/s, he began his long, slow trip towards the nearest star.
"I hope you like Elevator Muzak, Jack, because that's what you get to hear for the next 131 thousand and eight years on your trip to another star. I'm not going to let you die, either. So, have fun! I'll even give you a window, so you can see the endless expanses of existence, of which you won't be able to affect at all. I think you'll find it amusing you're going to die with a whimper, when nobody even remembers your name. Or not. It could go either way. One last thing, I'm changing your perception of time, so every second will feel like a second, and you'll be completely rational the whole time. No space madness for you, buckeroo!"
And with that, I cut the connection to the little box flying towards another star at low velocities. I'll speed it up enough to break the gravity well of the sun, but that'll be about it. I also make sure to pull out the connection to Broadcast to see about popping it into my brain like I did with Dragon's shard. Fascinating thing, that. It tingled a bit in my code before everything smoothed out.
Now on to something else!
=====================================================================
So it turns out converting a large portion of the surrounding atmosphere around someone's head to hydrogen cyanide is actually pretty fucking lethal! Who would have thought?
Probably not the Three Blasphemies, who are currently lying on the ground, dead. They tend to respawn if the others are alive, but if not, well… they don't.
One more problem out of the way, and more shards for my mind. This is probably a good thing. Or not, who can fucking tell. All I need are some of the big storage shards, so if Eidolon or Glastig ever kick the bucket for whatever reason I've got those. Or Taylor, should worst come to worst, though she seems to be enjoying life so that'd make me feel like a dick.
Eh, It doesn't particularly matter.
Or I could copy it. I think that's a good idea.
Should probably start prepping for the next Endbringer. I'll need to talk to Flechette first, but other than that all I need is to finish prepping Operation: Soft Rain to deal with the fucker.
Dis Gun B Gud.
=====================================================================
That was monumentally tedious. Fucking paperwork man. All I wanted to do was pick through a minor's hippocampus with exotic matter. Is that too fucking much to ask? Apparently it is, if the fact that they had a guy behind a wall with an anti-tank rifle pointed at me the whole time indicated anything. Not that it'd do shit, in any case.
Well, it's done, I can pretty much replicate Sting's effects, and am in the process of accessing the Shard itself. Being able to shoot AP:yes projectiles is pretty appealing.
Then I can deal with the Endbringers, which free me up so I can deal with Zion, then consume Eden's corpse, then go about eating any other hostile entities, then move on.
Blah, who to deal with next? The Fallen probably.
Huh, a quick check on their secure networks shows they've been looking for me. I guess they were a little angry about what I did.
Meh, fuck 'em. I can deal with them after I kill one of their sorry gods.
I'll deal with all of the fucking asswipes in Africa. Engaging teleportation grid. There goes Moord Nag, Aphula, Oku Aka, Tekusi, and a half dozen other warlords. Now to steal their powers.
And there go the shards, to be added to the growing mini-entity that is me. And Sting, which I just stole a bud from.
should probably see if I can do something about the resource issues. Availability of resources is the start of most wars and all, so if everyone has enough food, water, and power, conflict should go down. Anyone who tries to monopolize it can get fucking Dox'd.
And now to see what I can do about the remaining issues.
=====================================================================
"Colin, you'd better look at this."
Dragon only ever interrupted his work if it was something important. Still, he was almost done with the updates to the predictive system's code, and loathed distraction at any point in tinkering, but especially when he was this far along. Still, he got up and looked.
"Alright, what am I looking at?"
The image showed a craft hanging in LEO, of a design he had never seen before. The overall shape was almost arrowhead like, and barring some small gun emplacements and arms, almost featureless. The bottom was dominated by a large, almost missile like object, though it didn't have what Colin would call a rocket motor, in fact, it was shaped differently than any other method of propulsion he'd ever seen, including some very advanced Tinker ones, though it had some similarities with the fusion rocket design he'd seen for one of the theoretical Endbringer killer weapons, and had what looked like the interior of a ramjet from the suit following it at a few thousand kilometers. The colors of the craft marked it as probably belonging to Commander, and given the scale superimposed on the image it had to be at least as large as the Rig, if not larger, as he couldn't tell the dimensions overall from the angle it was at. Strobing panels pulsed a dull red along the surface, seemingly altering the ship's course.
After watching it and discussing the potential purposes for about fifteen minutes, it apparently reached the correct point, and released the rod, the clamp arms retracting into the hull with nary a seam. Small glowing bands similar to the ones on the mothership began pulsing, correcting the course and sending it into the atmosphere.
"What's it doing? It's not above much of anything right now just the South...Atlantic...Pull up a map of Leviathan's movements, please." If his hunch was right…
The map showed a familiar line squiggling around the bottom of the South Atlantic. He'd been looking at a similar image scant hours ago, working on the software before hitting a block and needed to relax by working out some kinks in his combat predictive software.
It was also directly in the path of what he now realized was a KKV the size of a blue whale.
The outer covering began to burn away as it assumed a course that would, in approximately five minutes, intersect with the rough area of Leviathan. As it began heating up, a strange black glow began emanating from the sharp nose.
"Is he going to try to hit leviathan with a kinetic projectile?" Dragon sounded incredulous. Colin just sat there with his jaw open for a few seconds before Dragon's question registered.
"I…I think so. He's either the most moronic individual to ever try to kill one of the beasts, from the sheer cost that ship would require to be built, or is going to be most smug in a few minutes because, honestly? With the bullshit he's already pulled off I wouldn't be surprised if this works."
As they talked and watched the projectile fall via the camera one of Dragon's high speed drones carried, small fins continued to alter the projectile's path as it accelerated to speeds in excess of mach thirty-two, the design of the bizarre thruster at the rear revealing its purpose when a gout of superheated plasma spewed from the rear, and a massive shockwave that would likely be felt on the coasts of every continent bordering that the ocean formed behind it. After a time that felt paradoxically endless and all too short, the KKV hit the water, smoothly sliding in as the thruster began using water for thrust, somehow, and lost almost no speed before going down and keeping a direct path toward the wildly zigzagging monster. Seconds later, the surface of the ocean exploded in a cloud of water taller than any skyscraper. Waves began propagating outward, and would likely remain massive as they hit the coasts of the world. But the real important thing was going on under the waves.
The point on the graph indicated Leviathan stopped, as a massive thermal bloom occurred, further compounding to the potential death toll this would cause. A few minutes later, the drone entered the water, and began moving down towards where Leviathan had last been spotted.
The eighty foot long, two foot wide kinetic projectile had apparently slammed into Leviathan, and passed right through. Like a puppet with it's strings cut, it was drifting loosely on the roiling current formed from what a very quick calculation was likely an explosion between sixty and seventy million tons of TNT exploding in the deep ocean. Very soon after, a flash of light signified the arrival of a small submarine, again with Commander's colors, which proceeded to grab the corpse of the Endbringer and disappear with another flash, but deposited a small block with an antenna on it, which projected a shield big enough to contain the worst of the waves to minimize damage.
Colin looked at the image of Dragon.
Dragon looked at Colin.
Colin reached under his desk, and pressed a button. Seconds later, one of the support columns near his workspace had a small hatch open with a puff of condensation, revealing a bottle of hard liquor that probably cost as much as an average motorcycle.
Colin took a long pull straight from the bottle.
"You don't normally drink."
"I believe it to be appropriate. Now to go inform Legend and Piggot."
Dragon nodded, and began working on her own reports, and press releases, because this wouldn't stay under wraps for long.
=====================================================================
Dave was pretty content with his life. He'd made enough money to retire early, and was living out his dreams to live in Cali and surf as often as possible. The news had promised some righteous swells, and it did not disappoint.
After a few hours riding the waves, he took a break to grab a snack. Sitting on his towel, he noticed someone walking in towards shore, that he hadn't noticed before. He shrugged and continued to munch on the bag of chips. Swimmers walking back onto shore wasn't uncommon.
Five minutes later, he heard grunting, and was shocked to see the person from before was wearing a massive hooked mask, armor on his limbs, and a pair of Hawaiian print swim trunks with a shirt from the Monterey Aquarium. Even more surprising, however, was the massive, green and black thing he was carrying. Dave couldn't make out what it was but it was big.
"Need some help, dude?" he called, hoping to not get an answer, because cape shit was always bad news, unless it was a Protectorate PR stunt. The man stopped and looked at him.
"Yeah, man. I need directions to the PRT national HQ." He said with a heavily synthesised voice and the faintest hints of a southern twang.
"Uh, sure, just head up the street behind me and take a left on 14th. I think there's a tour station there, they have pamphlets that should have directions." The cape gave him a thumbs up, and and went back to hauling his cargo out of the surf. With a start, dave recognized the form of the middle child of the Endbringers, which was limp and looked like it had gone through hell, with a massive hole through the center of the torso bleeding black ichor, and most of its skin charred black. Its eyes were dark, and it wasn't dripping any more than something just pulled from the sea would. The cape dropped the tail, and walked over to dave, and handed him a slightly damp hundred dollar bill.
"Thanks man. I'll go and collect my bounty, should be out of your way in a bit. Waves are really nice, I can see why you're out here when the water's forty degrees."
Dave just nodded, and the cape walked off to continue hauling the Sunderer of Kyushu up the beach, eventually bringing a little floating dolly out of nowhere and hauling the carcass on it. A tourist was taking pictures, and Dave could hear the distinctive "Weeeeroooo" of the PRT vans approaching. The Cape payed it no heed, and continued walking until out of sight from the beach.
Dave went back to surfing, and tried to forget what he'd seen.
=====================================================================
Rebecca Costa-Brown was having a fairly average morning until one of the various phones rang, and the regional director started babbling about Endbringers. She waited, then had him start over, and talk slower.
"Right, uh, ma'am. Uh, some...some guy, matches the files on Commander, the uh, guy, on the east coast, just dragged Leviathan, uh, out of the ocean, and is now walking towards my building. And Leviathan is dead. What do I do?" He sounded close to tears, and she tried to remain calm. After a few minutes she responded.
"I'm sending Alexandria to deal with this, just wait for her."
Telling her secretary to hold her calls for a bit, she Door'd in her body double, and suited up to go meet Commander.
A few minutes later, she arrived at the location, flying from the Protectorate headquarters nearby. And sure enough, there was Commander, hauling the thing with the single highest body count on the planet, and it was in a sorry state. The cape dragging it looked up and waved.
"Hi Alexandria! Just thought I'd come claim my reward for this. I got some new stuff and wanted to test it out, and decided Leviathan was the easiest target. Are there any protocols for this or do I just get an island or something?"
What.
Leviathan being the easiest to kill…?
WHAT!?
"Uhhh...I don't think we have anything for killing an Endbringer, but I'll call some people to take the body off your hands, if you want."
"Sure, I'd like it back though. I want to see if I can pose it so it looks like the Birth of Venus painting. Or I'll cut off the head and use it as an ottoman. One of the two."
This man was clearly fucking insane.
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- Location
- Dodging chaos dragons in Limbo
Missing words, it seems to me.
I am heavily inclined to agree with RCB here. Question, with him being a mini-entity, why didn't he zoink Levi's powers? Presumably it is another shard, with less restrictions than the usual. Could he also then replicate its physiology?
Glitchrr36
Slick's Short Company, CEO
- Location
- The Wastes
- Pronouns
- He/Him
While a little late, I would like to state my thoughts on the matter, as the author.
When I read Worm, the strongest reaction I can remember was the utter loathing I felt toward the Nine, and Bonesaw in particular. The description of everything Taylor went through elicited a reaction of "well that sucks," which seems to be significantly less than what the majority of people who read it felt. I absolutely despise the Nine, which is I think the best thing about Worm, because the number of villains I actively wanted to suffer, barring the Nine, I could probably count on one hand. Wildbow is very good at making hatable characters, which is fairly rare. When I actually found out about her trigger event, I think my hate for Bonesaw's character lessened, but it was nowhere near gone.
Being that Glitch is a version of me, his reactions would be much the same as mine. I've always sort of had an "eye for an eye" type world view, so her dying in response to the hundreds she's played a direct part in killing is about the most appropriate response I can think of. Her effective mindwashing plays a minuscule part, if it factors in at all, with how I chose to dealt with her (in fact, an earlier mental draft involved effectively servitoring her and a few other characters I loathe (Trickster and Coil, as well as a few others), then kind of mashing them together into something that if it had any scrap of free will left would plead for death constantly. I decided later that that was really fucked up, and went with this instead).
Bonesaw Redemption is something that has caused me to drop at least one fic where it occurred and I wasn't totally enthralled by the premise or writing, and is something I grudgingly accept when it happens in fics I like (I never did get back around to finishing Atonement, did I?)
Anyway, half coherent rant/discussion over, off to bed with me.
Glitchrr36
Slick's Short Company, CEO
- Location
- The Wastes
- Pronouns
- He/Him
fixed the first one.
As for the second, hydrokinesis is one of the most situationally useful powers, with a heavy emphasis on the situationally bit. Being able to control water is absolutely garbage in space combat, and is only super useful on a handful of planets. I've also subscribed to the "Leviathan couldn't just yoink the water out of a body" school of thought, which also impacted the choice.
Also, stealing the shard would have required not doing something ridiculous and over the top, and Glitchmander ain't about that life.
Glad you didn't drag all of that out for like 5 chapters. Happy it's coming along fast but not too quick.
Sakuya's Butler
A refined Butler to a knife wielding Mistress.
- Location
- ↓, ↘, → + Punch
Hypothetical situation for you then.
Bonesaw is your sister or daughter.
Should I still execute her on sight without so much as giving a single damn, making sure to empty the mag into her head until its raw hamburger? Or should I, if able to, try to figure out what caused a well-adjusted little girl to turn psychotic only AFTER being put in close quarters with parahuman?
Depending on the situation, I could see me looking at that father or brother and going 'fuck you', then put 30 rounds into her head without caring how that father or brother feels, even if they'really only 10 feet away and watching. Or, in other situations, if I thought it possible to restrain her, I'd want answers first.
Master/Stranger protocols are there for a reason.
And nobody, YET, has figured out Jack is subtly Mastering the entire group. Which is really really stupid of the PRT, although it's mostly Contessa's fault in deliberately letting the situation fester as she KNOW some of them can get their heads fixed, but won'the say, due to needing them in a certain place later on. Get them away from him, long enough, and a few, in canon, deeply regretted what happened/they did.
If you're willing to put a bullet in your sister's or daughter's head, point blank when she's looking at you, no hesitation or a single moment to question her about her actions/motives for why she committed murder, or even if she was pushed to do them against her will, then fine.
Squeeze that trigger.
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- Status