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Chapter 1746 - 41

Chapter 41

A Darker Path

Part Forty-One: Taking Care of Business

[A/N1: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]

[A/N 2: There are five relevant side stories that need to be posted before the main story, all by Masterweaver on Spacebattles. They will be appropriately labelled.]

Relevant Side Story: Severance, Longing (by Masterweaver)

Atropos could kill powers.

The whispers spread throughout the cape community-through the PRT, through the Elite, through independent hero teams and villain gangs, through rogue's guilds and random loners just doing their own thing.

Atropos could kill powers.

Most saw it as a threat. Most took it as a warning. Most began to realize this was no mere serial killer, but something... else.

Atropos could kill powers.

To almost every parahuman, that was a great and terrible menace.

Almost every parahuman.

There were barriers put in place around the asylum. Informational barriers, meant to protect their inhabitants from the distress of the outside world. And yet, isolation itself was distressing, so there were-carefully installed, constantly monitored-ways for some of them to interact with the outside world. It was a reward, a treatment, all in one. Some had even made friends, of a sort, with the outside-friends seperated by distance and lengths of cable.

Atropos could kill powers, came one message, slipping through the filters quietly. I was there, in person, I saw what she did to Bastard Son. I heard her. Watched it happen.

It was part of a larger message, part of a simple 'man it sure was cool to watch these capes do their thing', a sidenote so brief that those in charge missed its significance. Didn't scrub it out, let it pass, the recipient was such a good girl, she deserved her silly little friend...

And so one girl read the message again, carefully, making sure she understood it. One girl took the time out to make sure it wasn't just a rumor. One girl stared at her screen as the truth settled into her brain.

Atropos, came the confident whisper, can kill powers. Perhaps even your power, if you but ask...

And where most felt a slowly rising sense of dread...

Sveta, after so long, felt the unfamiliar flicker of hope.

She swallowed, and began typing a message to the new cape.

Relevant Side Story: Caught Red-Handed, Part 1 (by Masterweaver)

Rook was certainly an odd bird, Lisa mused.

Bird really was the right word for it. His body language was more avian than human, especially with his plague doctor mask, and he'd often trill and mutter to himself while he paced around the room. The other members of the Red Hands had gotten used to it, but it'd been a shock to see that their leader wasn't charismatic at all-or, rather, that his charisma wasn't the kind either the Protectorate or the gangs of Brockton Bay espoused. He was more... direct. When one of them had a problem, he would listen, mutter to himself, and then find a solution-not expecting gratitude, just efficiency.

She'd been worried, at first, that he'd get on Bitch's nerves but-surprisingly-the two had bonded over their mutual noncomprehension of ordinary people and their very public triggers. Especially after Rook had found neglected puppies for the Red Hands to rescue. "I find overlooked," he'd explained. "Neglect is absence of attention by definition."

Alec had adapted to the situation with his usual casual dismissal, mentioning that such behaviors were dangerously common at his place-"Well, when dear old Dad wasn't around." Rook had picked up on his behavioral shift after Heartbreaker's death, and had locked himself in a room with a computer for a few hours; when he emerged, he simply bopped his mask beak gently on Alec's head, and told him to clean up after himself, before walking away.

(Lisa had looked up his internet history after the fact, and been mildly impressed at the sheer depth of legal precedent and psychological theory Rook had apparently researched.)

Yes, Rook was certainly an odd bird. But he was definitely not a stupid one, as evidenced by the meeting. It was more informal than both Coil and Brian's meetings, but there was still an air of a briefing.

"Mmm. Found a new target." He pointed one taloned glove at the map. "Yes, richer than previous strikes. Still, corporate. Many moving parts. Data valuable?" he asked.

"Yeah, the data can be very valuable," Lisa agreed quickly. "Access to funds, secrets to sell to rivals, covered up scandals reporters would drool to get-"

"Much treasure," Rook summarized. "Resale or otherwise."

"We haven't struck a corporate target before," Cozen noted warily. "Even if what we take isn't noticed until after the fact, it's still a big risk." She glanced at the newbies. "Leaving tracks could come back to bite us."

"Very careful, then. Tattletale," Rook nodded to her. "You have done hacking?"

"A little bit, yeah."

Rifle rose a finger for attention. "...security."

"Security guards?" Rook clarified.

Rifle nodded.

"Hmm. Dangerous. Bitch. Regent. Physical interception?"

At Bitch's confused look, Cozen cleared her throat. "He wants to know if you can keep the security guards off us while we do... the hacking, safecracking stuff."

"Sure," Bitch growled.

"I'll spot 'em, Bitch'll snag 'em," Regent promised.

"Mm. Careful. Mustn't get word out, mustn't get caught." Rook paused, looking at Bitch for a moment, before turning to Rifle. "Support them, yes?"

Rifle nodded once.

"This isn't Brockton Bay," Cozen reminded them gently. "We don't have Panacea here. If you have to fight security guards, try for minimum injuries, we don't want a dangerous reputation."

"We get it," Tattletale replied, putting a hand on Bitch's shoulder before she could get riled up. "We know a few takedown moves."

"Good, yes yes, good." Rook turned to Getaway. "Escape ready?"

"I'll need to register the new guys into the system. And make them combadges." Getaway rubbed his ear awkwardly. "Also, I don't know if Bitch's dogs register differently when they're bulked up versus when they're not, I might have to test that. Give me a day or two."

"Can do, yes. You will allow?" he asked Bitch.

"...As long as he explains things," Bitch agreed reluctantly.

"He can ramble," Rook warned.

"So can Tattletale," Bitch replied.

Lisa huffed as Regent snickered, although she did share a small grin with Cozen. There was... something here. A bond between thieves. She could get used to this.

Relevant Side Story: Caught Red-Handed, Part 2 (by Masterweaver)

Of course, things went wrong.

"Fuck." Rifle leaned away from the window. "PRT. Ten."

"Who got a call out?" Getaway demanded. "I thought we were sneaky enough-"

"Doesn't matter," Rook croaked. "Tattletale. How fast?"

Tattletale grumbled, gesturing at the screen. "Well if these guys weren't money-grubbing assholes, they'd have a better tech department. Great for us breaking in, not so much for us download speed. Ten minutes?" she muttered. "Cutting it close..."

Cozen cursed. "Why are the ENE here? They've always overlooked us before-"

"They focused on Brockton Bay before," Regent pointed out. "But Atropos has... freed them up for other things."

"...Fuck. We haven't hurt anybody, have we?"

Bitch snorted. "Bruises. Few scratches. I was careful!" she growled at Cozen's look.

"This is still salvageable," Tattletale muttered, walking over to Rifle. "Who are we dealing with?"

"Van," he replied, holding up a single finger. "Capes," and then there were four.

Getaway balked. "Four capes? That's a little overkill, isn't it?"

"Can you give me a look?" Tattletale asked. Rifle handed her a phone, linked by a cord to his goggles. "Thanks. Alright, we've got... Battery, with no Assault, that's interesting. Aegis, second of the wards, Clockblocker, Wards jokester, and... Oh. Ooooooooh."

"What?" Cozen frowned. "What is it?"

"Looks like they flipped our old teammate," Tattletale explained. "Grue, though I'm sure he's not going by that name now."

Bitch looked up with a growl. "He flipped?"

Tattletale sighed, handing the phone back to Rifle. "He was only ever in it for his sister. Work for a black cape was hard to come by in the nazi capital of America. And, well, after Coil..."

"Rock and a hard place," Regent said with a shrug. "Only it wasn't that hard-Shadow Stalker was already dead, so nobody on the Wards would make him a pincushion. I don't blame him, it'd be a pretty sweet gig. You know, aside from all the federal crap."

"Anger later," Rook snapped. "Outline! What can they do?"

Tattletale started counting off on her fingers. "Grue makes smoke that cuts off senses and all radio waves, and he's got good hand-to-hand training on top of that. Clockblocker can put anything in temporal stasis with a touch-invulnerable, but can't move, and the duration's random. Aegis can fly and has a sort of redundant biology, he can make himself breathe out his ears if needed. Battery charges herself by standing still, and gets an electric boost that gives her super speed and super strength."

"Shit." Cozen glanced out the window. "We can't fight them-we're not up for two mover/brutes and a striker, especially with a darkness field."

"Battery's a striker, not a brute, but I get your point." Tattletale bit her lip. "Hmm... Ooooo. I've got an iiiiiidea."

"This is no time for shenanigans-"

"Au contraire, my dear Cozen, this is the perfect time for shenanigans." Tattletale glanced at Getaway. "If we went down to face them-Regent, Bitch, and I-could we teleport back to the rendezvous separately from the rest of you?"

"Well... yes," Getaway muttered. "I guess, yeah. Uh, why, though?"

"Distraction," Rifle realized.

"Yep, you four finish up here while we have a little chat with our dear old pal," Tattletale agreed.

"Ooooooh no," Regent grinned. "Tats, are you thinking what I think you're thinking?"

"I'm thinking Bitch is right to be angry that Grue flipped. But I'm also thinking that you're right that it's a pretty sweet gig for him. Not something we can really disagree with... but something we can reasonably be upset with."

"No fighting Wards," Rook croaked. "Bad look."

"Oh, I promise we won't hurt them physically. But..." She smirked smugly. "That doesn't mean a little social revenge is off the table."

Relevant Side Story: Caught Red-Handed, Part 3 (by Masterweaver)

"...and because Rook's trigger was caused by a Protectorate cape in a very public way, we have to be very careful in how we handle the Red Hands," Battery explained. "Especially since they generally stick to targets that won't get hurt by their robberies. If we go too hard, we look like oppressors, and that isn't good for anybody. So use a light touch, alright? This isn't Brockton Bay, remember."

"Right." Aegis nodded. "I understand."

Tenebrae looked around. "Do people always stop to gawk?" he muttered. "There are at least two dozen phones out... shouldn't they be getting to safety?"

"Against the Hands? We're more likely to cause collateral damage than they are. Don't worry, the troopers are already establishing a cordon," Battery pointed out.

"Just be glad Vista's not here," Clockblocker quipped. "You know how she gets."

Even Battery couldn't quite berate him for that, though she did send him a disapproving look. "Right. Aegis, I want you on overwatch. Don't intervene unless ordered to."

"What are we expecting, ma'am?" Tenebrae asked as Aegis flew upward.

"Rumor has it that the Hands picked up a few new members, maybe runners from the Bay. Our job is to determine who they are. It's not like they're just going to come out and tell us."

And then the front door opened and three figures half-stumbled out.

Tenebrae had a moment of shock when he recognized the three figures. There was no way-okay, no, he could believe that his old gang had joined the Hands. But realistically, there was no way they could possibly be this dumb-no way they didn't see this coming, no way the shock on Tattletale's face was real-

"Grue?" she asked, in a soft, almost desperate tone that somehow carried across the road. "God... you're alive?"

"It's Tenebrae now," he reflexively corrected, before mentally facepalming. Shit, Piggot was going to chew him out for even implying he used to be a villain-

"Oh." Tattletale nodded, somberly. "I suppose you always were the best of us."

"You fucking flipped?!" Bitch growled. "How could you betray the pack?!"

And she was angry, but there also seemed to be a level of pain in her voice, a level of vulnerability, that Brian had never heard from her before. Maybe she'd lost some of her dogs-come to think of it, where were her dogs? He didn't see any-and why was Tattletale giving her a small nod?

"Grue, please," Regent begged. "They're not-they didn't force you, did they? They haven't hurt you?"

"N-no," and why was Regent acting so weirdly concerned, "I'm fine, really."

"The Protectorate can recognize when somebody was being coerced," Battery cut in. "And the Wards have programs to help young parahumans who are in bad situations. You could-"

Tattletale sighed. "I appreciate the thought, Battery, truly. But after my brother died, my parents exploited me for all it was worth-and when I came to Brockton Bay, Coil held a gun to my head and did the same thing. Can you tell me, completely honestly, that I wouldn't be shuffled off to WEDGDG and locked away for my powers? And Bitch has special needs, can you really say you can give her the care she needs?" She shook her head. "Regent... Regent maybe-"

"I wouldn't ever leave you," Regent said loyally (since when did he care about loyalty?!), putting a hand on Lisa's shoulder. "You know that, Tats."

She shot him a grateful smile and what the actual fuck was that about?! before turning back to Tenebrae, her smile now sad. "I'm happy for you Grue-Tenebrae... I really am. You're in a much better place now, one... one that can only be good for you." Her eyes fell for a moment. "I just... I just wish we could have what we used to have. Be together, all of us, like we used to be..."

The faint gasp of shock from Clockblocker drew Tenebrae's eyes for a moment-and past Clockblocker, he saw all the civilians holding out their phones and filming the confrontation.

Oh.

Oh shit.

His gut dropped as he had a sudden vision of the future, of Riley cackling at some internet video with melodramatic violins while Aisha asked why he never told her he had a harem with the biggest shit-eating grin possible...

"Tis but thy name that is my enemy," she quoted somberly, breaking out the big guns just as Tenebrae realized what was happening. "Thou art thyself, though not a Montague-"

"Clock, get her!" Battery called.

And then there was a minute of chaos where Clockblocker tried to catch Tattletale and tripped over his own legs. The blonde kissed her two fingers and flung the spectral imprint toward Tenebrae in a gesture that would have seemed incredibly soft if not for the mischief in her eyes before vanishing suddenly-right, Getaway had that power of his-and meanwhile, Bitch rolled out of Battery's range and somehow landed in a kneeling position looking up at him with what she probably thought was an incredibly tormented expression (and would probably be edited as such by the phone-recorders) before popping out of existence as well.

"Adieu et bonne fortune, ma libération d'ébène!" Regent proclaimed, voice quavering with more (feigned) emotion than he'd ever heard from him before. He even managed a graceful bow before he vanished.

Battery stood up with a groan of annoyance. "They pulled a damn Madcap on us," she grumbled angrily. "I should have fucking realized..."

"Language," Tenebrae warned as Aegis descended. "We're being recorded."

"...damn." Battery sighed, patting his shoulder sympathetically. "Sorry, kid, looks like you have your first tabloid story."

"Could be worse," Clockblocker pointed out. "He could have punched Tats' pretty face in."

Tenebrae just sighed.

Relevant Side Story: Caught Red-Handed, Part 4 (by Masterweaver)

"I'm not usually in the habit of asking about the romantic lives of those under my command," Piggot began smoothly. "But with Master/Stranger protocols, it does sometime fall under my remit, and technically speaking Regent is a known Master. So I'm using that loophole to make sure I know exactly what was going on before I start lecturing you on your fuckup."

Brian sighed. "I was not and never have been in a romantic or sexual relationship with anybody, certainly not with my former teammates, and most certainly not with all of them at once," he ground out.

Piggot quirked an eyebrow, glancing at Armsmaster, who nodded his confirmation.

"Alright. So, the way they reacted...?"

"Absolutely a setup," Brian confirmed. "Tattletale is semi-involuntarily asexual, Bitch has serious social issues preventing that sort of relationship, and Regent is Regent."

"Semi-involuntarily asexual?"

"Her thinker power gives her TMI when she gets close to others," Brain explained. "Too Much Information," he clarified at Armsmaster's frown. "Fetishes and weird quirks, stuff like that. I was never clear if it was just her thinker power shutting her down whenever she started to like somebody that way or if she actually was asexual beforehand, but either way she decided against pursuing relationships in general."

"Mmm." Piggot folded her hands. "Do you know how the Red Hands were formed?"

Brian frowned. "Not really. My knowledge of cape politics was always more focused on surviving Brockton."

"Allow me to give you some context, then. It was twelve years ago, before Kyushu sunk and Lung arrived. The big gangs in Brockton were the Empire and the Marche, both more focused on looking good and keeping down smaller gangs. They were trying to project themselves as the 'hope for the future', gather influence and wealth. The director at the time considered them to be local mafia-esque groups, useful in keeping the villain element organized and therefore unproblematic; he was more concerned about the Elite, since they'd only formed a few months ago, and focused the PRT's efforts on keeping them out of the ENE's sphere of influence. Which, of course, led to cape fights outside of Brockton Bay." Piggot shook her head. "And Challenger had just graduated from the Wards."

Brian winced. Challenger's reputation was... good, in the same way a tank could be called awesome. Very heroic, definitely powerful, but you didn't want to be in the area when she was fighting.

"So there she was, fighting a group of the Elite. However, there was also a group of physically disadvantaged elders nearby. Walkers, wheelchairs, nobody had noticed them. And Jeremy Fletcher decided to try to let her know she was getting close to them." The director sighed. "The problem was that Jeremy Fletcher was... some flavor of mentally incapacitated. I'm sure I can look up the exact diagnosis, but the point was he wasn't able to effectively communicate the danger until it was almost too late. So he triggered then and there, and used his new trump power to fly the entire group of senior citizens away."

"I thought Rook was a Thinker?"

"Rook has a thinker power that allows him to locate and identify 'overlooked' things," Armsmaster confirmed. "That is how he knows how to take exactly what his targets won't miss. He also has a flight mover power, and a shaker/trump power that allows him to give others the ability to fly so long as they remain within a short distance of him."

"Needless to say, the image of an unmasked man flying a whole bunch of senior citizens away caused quite the scandal, especially since the unwritten rules weren't considered as... important, back in those days. The director ordered Challenger to apologize, and she did so-but the newly named 'Rook' stated that he'd accept Challenger's apology, but not the PRT's, since hers was personal but the PRT's was political. Then he used his powers to gather capes that weren't 'important' enough for anybody else to snatch, and formed the Red Hands to support them." Director Piggot let out a low breath. "And the Red Hands have since portrayed themselves as 'gentlemen thieves,' in a way, more about the cunning and the art of theft than about just getting money for money's sake. Which is of course ridiculous, but when put up against a rage dragon, literal nazis, and the corporate crime of the Elite, they always seemed more romantic. Although until your little confrontation, that was more literary than literal."

Brian rubbed his temples. "They're playing up the Robin Hood angle, aren't they."

"Got it in one. Poor Tattletale's been exploited all this time, she said so herself. Somebody has mysteriously found and released documents suggesting that Hellhound-sorry, Bitch's murder charges are spurious. And Regent..." Piggot snorted. "Well, with Heartbreaker's death and the stories coming from the survivors, his kids have gotten a lot of sympathy as 'slaves just discovering their freedom', expressing profound regret for everything they did under his control. Whether it's real or just them covering their asses, I don't know, but the public's eating it up. And the story of the kid 'strong enough to run away' is spreading."

"Regent was one of Heartbreaker's-?" Brian paused. "...actually, in retrospect that explains a lot."

The director nodded. "And on top of that, his role in your little playact has caused some people to suspect he's some sort of genderqueer, which has led to support crawling out of the woodwork from that angle."

Her computer beeped. She glanced at it, moving her mouse and reading something.

"...and the Red Hands have just released information suggesting the corp they robbed is currently housing some of the Empire remnants," she added nonchalantly.

Brian dragged a hand down his face. "Of course. So as far as the public is concerned, the Red Hands are the good guys."

"And you're the tragic romantic lead caught in the middle." Piggot held up a hand to forestall his objections. "I know it's not true, but PR being what it is, we can't openly deny it without looking bad. So for the rest of this week, you're going to be attending a course on how to handle public perception."

"...yes ma'am." Brian nodded, but paused for a moment. "...will this affect my guardianship of Aisha and Riley in any way, ma'am?"

Piggot, finally, smirked. "I had a talk with your youth guard representative, actually. She seemed very pleased to learn that you were such a forward-thinking young man. Even considered introducing you to her husbands."

Brian blinked, glancing at Armsmaster for confirmation.

"Missus Henrietta-Zhu-Smith is... very empathetic," he explained, awkwardly.

"...I... see," Brian muttered. "...If I may be excused, ma'am, I need to make sure my home life doesn't become any more of a sitcom than it already is."

Now We Return to Your Regularly Scheduled Main Narrative, Just after the Death of Bastard Son

Protectorate Headquarters, Armsmaster's Lab

Assault

"Hey, did you hear? They found Bastard Son's body, right where Atropos said it would be."

Armsmaster barely grunted in response, which Ethan had kind of expected. Leaning over his keyboard, he seemed to be glaring at lines of code on the screen. As Ethan watched, he inserted a blank line then typed a bunch of code that probably made sense to Armsmaster, but not to anyone else.

"They also got something else …" Ethan added, leaving the tag-end of the sentence hanging.

Armsmaster didn't bite.

"… footage of Atropos in hand to hand with eight opponents at once."

That got a reaction.

Ethan knew Armsmaster wasn't a Mover of any kind, but somehow he got up out of the chair and across to the door of the lab before Ethan had a chance to react. "Where?" he demanded.

"We're, uh, just setting it up to run on the big screen in the rec room." Ethan hooked his thumb over his shoulder. "I hear it's pretty impressive."

But he was already talking to Armsmaster's back.

Ten Minutes Later

Velocity

"How?" demanded Armsmaster.

"What do you mean, how?" Assault spread his hands and grinned. "She kicked their asses with power and precision, that's how."

"No, how did she react to each one in time to beat them without leaving herself open to the others? She was guarding against attacks that hadn't happened yet, and setting up attacks on openings that weren't there yet." Armsmaster was wearing a headset with a flip-down eyepiece, and he was pointing at the screen like it had personally offended him. "She's not a speedster … is she?"

Robin shook his head. "No. All her movement is within human norms. I checked. It's just that it's all on the upper edge of human norm. She doesn't slow down for a second. The kind of focus that requires is … insane."

"Send that file to my lab." Armsmaster stood up. "I want to see how she does it."

"Already done," Assault said. "We're just going to watch the show out here on the big screen again. Atropos got some moves."

Robin went to grab another pack of party pies. This looked like it could go on for quite some time.

PRT Building

Director's Office

Emily blinked as the scuffle with Bastard Son's minions came to an end. It had barely even been a fight. Atropos had looked like she was following choreographed moves, the whole way through. Still, for that many opponents, it was kind of impressive.

She watched as the sword came into play, rolled her eyes at the recounted provenance of the weapon, then waited for Atropos to kill him with it. But she didn't.

If any of Emily's troopers had been guilty of showboating like this, Emily would've busted them down to traffic duty before they tried it with the wrong cape and it got them killed. But somehow, Atropos just kept getting away with it.

And then Atropos explained what she'd actually done, and Emily spat out her drink.

Grabbing up her phone without bothering to wipe off her computer screen, she stabbed numbers with her finger. "Get me the Chief Director."

11:17 PM, Saturday Night, January 15, 2011

Janice Templeton

All was not yet lost.

Returning to her computer with a glass of wine, Janice sat down and surveyed her computer. She didn't consider herself a bad person, but she had bills to pay and expenses to meet, and the poor and homeless in Brockton Bay had been getting along just fine without stimulus checks so far. And they'd probably just waste the money on booze or something.

Besides, she wasn't taking all the money, just making sure some of it slipped through the cracks. It wouldn't even be stealing, really, just making sure that the money ended up in good hands. Specifically, hers.

As a member in good standing of the B3C (as they were beginning to call themselves), she had admin-level access to the financial network that had been established to handle the frankly ridiculous amount of cash that had been funnelled their way. She wasn't going to try anything so blatant as to grab too much at once; that would be stupid and counterproductive. But the stimulus money had already been accounted for and transferred into the accounts, so nobody would miss it.

Leaning close over the screen, she scrolled down the master list, clicking the mouse occasionally. With each click, a name went dark, indicating that it had been deselected from the stimulus program. She made sure to select people with foreign names; if they were illegals, they might not even know they were supposed to get a stimulus, and they certainly wouldn't raise a fuss if they did. Even then, she wouldn't take too much. About ten thousand would be about right. Chump change, really.

Her preparations were almost complete; she'd already made sure that the unclaimed cards would be funnelled to a drop-box that she had access to. All she had to do was click the save icon, and the new configuration would replace the old. Nobody would ever know the difference, and she would be on the way to being ten thousand dollars richer.

She clicked it.

Her computer screen froze, then blanked. When the picture emerged again, she was looking at … herself? Why is the webcam on? As if in a nightmare, she saw Atropos on the screen, stepping into view from behind her.

She spun around, to confront—

Nobody. Nobody was there. Her study was empty.

She looked back at the screen. Atropos was looming closer and closer, reaching out …

There's nobody there. Somebody's just trying to scare me.

And then the gloved hand clamped onto her shoulder. "Hi."

Shrieking and flailing, Janice knocked her wineglass over and nearly fell out of her chair.

Atropos dug her thumb and forefinger into the nerve points of Janice's shoulder, sending jagged pain lancing throughout her upper chest and rendering her arm useless. "Sit. Stay."

Heart rate accelerating from resting rate to hypersonic, Janice did her best to comply. "Why—how are you here? You only go after supervillains! Capes!"

"Really? Who told you that?" Atropos' featureless mask was right alongside Janice, now. "I gave you warnings about trying to skim money. You chose to ignore them."

"I-I can fix it! I can put it all back!" She knew she was babbling now, but she didn't care. A warm wetness was spreading across the seat cushion under her, and she didn't care about that either.

"No, see, here's your problem." Atropos' voice was softly chiding. "I give people a chance sometimes. And that's only if they had no idea what they were doing. You knew what you were doing. So now it's time for your next role in this little story."

"Wh—what's that?"

Atropos gestured at the webcam. "Cautionary tale."

The last thing Janice saw was the flash of light on the blade of the shears.

11:34 PM

Paul King

One good thing about driving around late at night was that parking was easy to find. Paul brought his SUV to a halt, set the handbrake, and killed the engine. Leaning across and reaching into the glove compartment, he took out his holstered nine millimetre, then climbed out of the car.

A click of the fob locked the vehicle, then he lifted his shirt and clipped the holster onto the back of his pants, in the small of his back. He wasn't anticipating trouble, but the best way to avoid it was to be prepared. While the Brockton Bay crime rate had dropped significantly in the absence of the gangs, this didn't mean it was zero. Case in point: the people he was going to talk to.

The number of people in Brockton Bay who were willing to commit violence for money was somewhat less than it had been two weeks ago. Some had hung up the knuckledusters and taken up more law-abiding pursuits, while others had just plain left town in the wake of the capes who had previously employed them. He'd gotten the contact number for these guys from a friend of a friend of a very shady friend, and they'd promised results.

And so they should have, for the amount of money he'd paid them. But they also should've delivered, and that was something they'd conspicuously failed to do. If the money was going to be pulled out of the drug rehab program, with a few rounding errors ending up in his pocket, then the rehab program needed to be seen to fail. There needed to be disruptions, and there hadn't been any.

Over the phone, when he demanded an explanation, the spokesman of the group had said that they'd just had a bad feeling and backed off. He was there to provide good feelings again.

Which was why he was coming to talk to them in person, and why he was bringing a weapon. He had some money, in case all they needed was a little extra incentive, and he had the gun to disincentivise them from just robbing him.

Descending a short flight of stairs to just below street level, he thumped the heel of his hand on the metal door at the bottom, then looked up at the security camera covering the door niche.

This had once been the hangout for a bunch of guys strongly affiliated with shaven heads and Aryan tattoos; when the Empire Eighty-Eight pulled up stakes in the aftermath of Kaiser's death, most had left as well. Those that remained were the ones who hadn't really cared about the Nazi ideology, but liked drinking beer and beating up people who didn't look like them. Taking money to trash a few drug rehab clinics had been right up their alley … until they hadn't actually done it.

A moment later, the door latch clicked, and he was able to push it open. Stepping through, he pushed the door closed behind him then shoved his way past the blackout curtains that were supposed to prevent light from spilling out even when the door was open.

The place had been messy enough the last time he'd visited (which was also the first time) but there'd been a certain amount of organisation. Now, it looked like a bomb had hit it. Tables were tipped over, the pool table was lying on its side, a few broken chairs were scattered here and there, and the actual members were draped over the wreckage. Some were groaning, while others were ominously still.

"What … the fuck …?" He stared at the scene of devastation. Fifteen minutes ago, he'd called them and said he was on the way over.

Had there been some sort of argument while he was in transit? Because right now, they didn't look capable of interrupting a game of bingo at an old folks' home.

The guy he'd spoken to was called Nicky, and he took no shit from anyone. Paul headed farther into the room, looking for Nicky. If anyone had answers about what had happened here, it would be him.

"Hey." It was a girl's voice, behind him. He half-turned, opening his mouth to ask a question, then froze.

Atropos stood there, leaning negligently against the wall, her arms folded. There was a pair of shears dangling from her left hand. Even as relaxed as she appeared, Paul could feel the menace rolling off her.

"Uhh …" he croaked, his throat suddenly dry. "This is not what it seems. I didn't—"

"I know you didn't." Her tone was derisory. "I kicked their asses. You were already coming here, so two birds, one stone, you know how it goes."

"M-me?" He hated how his voice hit a much higher register than normal. The gun clipped to the back of his belt was like a lead weight. It was a poisoned chalice; offering salvation, it would surely spell his doom if he gave in to temptation. "What do you want with me?"

She unfolded her arms and began to walk toward him, one measured step at a time. Light gleamed off the long, sharp blades of the shears. "You were warned, more than once, not to try skimming off funds. You tried to skim off funds. You know what comes next."

Terror-fuelled adrenaline surged through his system, and he clawed for the pistol holstered at his back. By the time he got it up and pointed, Atropos had her own pistol aimed at him, the silencer making it look altogether more ominous. There was a brief half-second pause while he tried to figure out why he was still alive, then he thought fuck it and fired anyway. Atropos fired at the exact same instant.

Nothing happened. He looked down at himself, but there was no blood from suddenly-appearing bullet wounds. She missed!

He fired twice more, but by the end of it his ears were ringing so badly he could barely hear anything. On the third shot, the pistol jolted extra hard, nearly spraining his wrist.

Still no pain. So far, if she'd been shooting, every shot of hers had missed him. But nor did she show any signs of having been hit, either.

"Missed me!" he shouted over the ringing in his ears.

She shook her head and pointed at the floor between them with the tip of the shears. Lying there, gently spinning, were three misshapen lumps of lead. He couldn't see them quite clearly enough to be certain, but somehow he knew each one was formed by two bullets colliding in midair.

Even one was a miracle … and she'd done it three times.

Still, all she had to do was miss once. He aimed his pistol at her again.

She shook her head, not bothering to raise her weapon. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

"Why not?" Holy shit, I've actually got the drop on her. A moment later, he decided not to wait for the answer, and squeezed the trigger.

The gun exploded in his hand, the breech blasting itself open and pieces of metal flying everywhere. He staggered back a step and fell to one knee, clutching the injured hand. It didn't hurt too badly right then, but it was going to in just a second.

A black boot stepped into his line of sight, and he looked up to see Atropos standing over him. When she spoke, her voice was pitched just loudly enough for him to hear. "Because I fired four shots."

She played me the whole time.

Even with that realisation, he didn't see the shears coming until it was far too late.

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Topic: Bye Bye Bastard Son

In: Boards ► Brockton Bay ► New Capes ► Atropos

Atropos (Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me)

Posted On Jan 16th 2011:

Good morning to the delightful people of Brockton Bay, and also the rest of you (I kid, I kid. I like you all.)

So, things got interesting yesterday on the Boardwalk, where our very own Rogues' Guild had their inaugural gathering. I totally approve of the Guild, by the way. Not every cape's got it in them to be a hero (I certainly don't; mwahahaha) but they're doing the best they can with what they've got, and they're doing really well with it.

But before we get into what actually *happened* yesterday, I'd just like to give a shout-out to our tireless and hardworking PRT troopers, up to and including their boss, Emily Piggot. They're also doing the best they can with the crappy hand they've been dealt. (And a specific thank-you to Reave, for helping out the night before last. Totes professional, a credit to the service.)

So, what happened yesterday? Well, I may have mentioned Bastard Son's name a time or three. He knew damn well he was on his second warning. So he showed up anyway. Now, if you're not sure about his capabilities, he was kind of what you'd get if Teacher and Jack Slash had a kid and kicked it out of the house because they were sick of its attitude. He could give people an insane level of skill in basically anything as a weapon ... but at the same time he also pushed an insane level of loyalty (to him, duh) onto them.

So when these guys showed up, they were actually being Mastered into doing what they did, which is why they're not decorating hospital beds or morgue slabs right now. (Just in case you're wondering: one's given himself up to the PRT, and the rest have skipped town).

So, BS wanted to open up a location in BB for the Elite to put down roots. As such, he did his best to kill me first. I might have let him think he'd succeeded, just for the look on his face when he Found Out.

What? That look of 'oh shit, I have totally fucked up' is one of the perks of this business. Tell me it isn't.

Why he was on the Boardwalk is simple. One of the Elite's strategies is to either recruit, chase off or kill any rogues before they move in. I wasn't going to let that happen, for several reasons.

For those who weren't there, footage can be found here, here and here. Many thanks to those who posted it up; you just saved me about a page of making bad jokes about people bringing a folding chair to a knife fight.

In case anyone's not sure what I said to BS after the fight, I carved a bend sinister into his chest with a hand-and-a-half sword, commissioned by Louis XIV for the son of one of his mistresses before he actually legitimized the kid. Its last owner was Kaiser, who was a *bastard* in all ways but birth, and it was gifted to me by his *son*.

And today you learned something!

And just in case you're wondering why I let him just run off like that, I wanted him to get to his limo (where I would be waiting). In the back of that limo was a high-end comms setup, including video links to his buddies in the Elite. After I killed him with the sword, I turned on the comms, so they could all see what happened to him when he came to BB against my specific recommendation.

I'm sure they'll get the point.

*He* certainly did (mwahaha).

Toodles!

(Showing page 1 of 27)

►Bagrat (Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)

Replied On Jan 16th 2011:

Well.

Dang.

That happened.

The other day, we learned what would happen if Atropos decided to kill someone's credibility. Yesterday, we found out what happens if she's up against a bunch of people she really doesn't feel like killing.

Pro tip: It's not just guns or shears she's good at using.

I have zero doubt that if she'd decided any one of those people was supposed to die, they would not have gotten up again. That was her *holding back*.

I'm not even going to ask where she got the oversized eight-ball from. We know she got the sword from Kaiser's kid (who freely admitted that she asked for it and he told her to keep it if she wanted).

Oh, and just by the way, the Rogues' Guild is legit. They've been checked out due to their encounter with Atropos (standard operating procedure) and they're totally on the up and up. Also, they've got the Atropos seal of approval, which would actually be less weird if the PRT also didn't have it.

I would also like to personally thank Atropos for keeping the gore down to a minimum this time around.

So there you have it, folks. If it was any more wholesome, it would be a Hallmark movie.

►BobTheBarbarian

Replied On Jan 16th 2011:

Here lies bastard son, he was too damn stupid to live

►Malarkey

Replied On Jan 16th 2011:

Like a motherfuckin' BOSS! That fight was awesome! You won't believe how much I laughed as Atropos kept knocking Bastard Son's minions with their own weapons!

►Adamis

Replied On Jan 16th 2011:

the guy wanted to make a show. she made a show of him. it is a fitting end.

►GleamingGlare

Replied On Jan 16th 2011:

I can't believe nobody's talking about how Atropos depowered Bastard Son. I mean, that's a really big deal. That has to be a nightmare for a LOT of people. Many of which are powerful, even if they can't harm Atropos.

Though it would be a dream come true for others, like some Case 53's, at least.

►Reave (Verified PRT Agent)

Replied On Jan 16th 2011:

Instead of asking Atropos to come in to the PRT building (we know she won't), I would like to say something else.

The night before last, I got to meet her face to face.

I've been up against villains before. I've faced them, I've fought them, I've even been injured a couple of times.

This was nothing like that.

Lives were at stake. She was the first responder. People lived because she made the specific choice for that to happen.

Just like she chose to save the Rogues' Guild from Bastard Son.

We're still not *thrilled* that she's out there, but I think I understand her better now.

Atropos - you know where to find me if you ever want to talk.

►XxVoid_CowboyxX

Replied On Jan 16th 2011:

GleamingGlare - about the depowering thing. In some animated shows, the bad guy can destroy someone's life energy by hitting them with a 'death blow'. Just a touch, but it drains or destroys their special martial-arts energy. I'm wondering if this isn't similar, but using a blade.

►BattleLoaf

Replied On Jan 16th 2011:

GleamingGlare - with how public it was, she wants people to know she can kill powers. This is going to make capes a lot more cautious about tangling with her.

Also, that whole color change thing. How did she do it? Was it for intimidation (btw, it worked) or was it just for the Gandalf joke?

XxVoid_CowboyxX - Normally I'd dismiss that out of hand. With Atropos, I can totally see it.

►Wastajax

Replied On Jan 16th 2011:

Holy crap, how far in advance did she have to plan to have that sword and that oversized eight-ball on her yesterday? For that exact circumstance?

I'm going with Thinker: Yes.

End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ... 25, 26, 27

(Showing page 2 of 27)

►jojo_mojo

Replied On Jan 16th 2011:

It would not be such a bad thing to consistently and safely depowered a parahuman actually.

It can be considered a humane (inasmuch life sentence is (generaly considered) more humane then execution) solution for evil cape.

Its akin to cutting of a thief's hands so he can no longer steal, so your miles might vary..

I mean.. if the alternative is the birdcage ...

►GstringGirl

Replied On Jan 16th 2011:

Is this really a thing? Can Atropos actually kill powers?

►XxVoid_CowboyxX

Replied On Jan 16th 2011:

Oh, yeah. I was there, in person, I saw what she did to Bastard Son. I heard her. Watched it happen.

It's real.

►Radalab

Replied On Jan 16th 2011:

Okay, after the 'Atropos the White' skit she pulled, memes are suggesting themselves.

"One does not simply walk into Brockton Bay ... if you are a villain."

Anyone? Anyone?

►XxVoid_CowboyxX

Replied On Jan 16th 2011:

Ooh, ooh!

"You can have my sword, and my bow, and my axe, and my shears."

►Atropos (Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me)

Replied On Jan 16th 2011:

*snerk*

You guys are total nerds, and I love it.

►Mouse_Protector (Verified Cape) (Veteran Member) (Independent Hero) (Verified Atropos Fan)

Replied On Jan 16th 2011:

I got one!

A picture of Atropos holding her shears up.

"Myyy Precioussss ..."

►55Frostburn

Replied On Jan 16th 2011:

And another one bites, 'nother one bites, 'nother one bites the dust!

I don't know much about the Elite, but if this keeps them out of the Bay, all the better.

►Eppinaga

Replied On Jan 16th 2011:

She totally had me with the history lesson.

Who knew serial killers could also be educational?

►UnconcernedFox

Replied On Jan 16th 2011:

*puts in an order for more popcorn. Dis is gettin gud*

End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4 ... 25, 26, 27

PRIVATE MESSAGE

To: Atropos

From: GstringGirl

Subject: Please don't be mad

Hi,

Im … its really hard to just say this straight out but im a csse 53.

And I hate my ppwers.

Is there any way I can get you to kill them for me like you did witj bastard son?

If you cant or wont its okay, I understand.

I just wanted to ask.

PRIVATE MESSAGE

To: GstringGirl

From: Atropos

Subject: Re: Please don't be mad

Hey, Sveta!

You're in luck. You caught me in between killing sprees (not killing Spree, I already did that). I can totally murder your powers for you.

However (relax, this isn't as bad as it sounds) if we do this, Imma be volunteering you for a friend of mine to experiment with her powers in ways she's really not used to doing. This is my way of dragging her out of her shell, kicking and screaming all the way.

So, here's the dealio. If you can convince the staff at the asylum (try Mrs Yamada, I hear she's a total sweetheart) to transfer you to Brockton Bay, I'll come visit some dark night (because that's how I roll) and End your powers for you. Then I'll turn you over to my friend, so she can get you back on your feet. Or pseudopods, or flippers, or whatever she leaves you with. Mwahaha.

So, what do you say?

PRIVATE MESSAGE

To: Atropos

From: GstringGirl

Subject: Re: Re: Please don't be mad

Thank you so much. Anything wld be better than this.

Ill talk to mrs Yamada.

Thank you again.

PRIVATE MESSAGE

To: SilentWhispers

From: TheRealTenebrae

Subject: Really?

Great. Just great.

Now half the city thinks I was in a relationship with all of you at once.

Aisha only stops laughing about it to make bad jokes.

I am never going to live this down.

Thanks a BUNCH.

PRIVATE MESSAGE

To: TheRealTenebrae

From: SilentWhispers

Subject: Re: Really?

Bwahahaha!

The look on your face.

Totally classic.

Still, I'm glad you're doing well.

Keep up the good work, hero boy.

Tt

PRIVATE MESSAGE

To: SilentWhispers

From: TheRealTenebrae

Subject: Re: Re: Really?

Not funny.

PRIVATE MESSAGE

To: TheRealTenebrae

From: SilentWhispers

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Really?

Hahahaha

Sunday, January 16

Taylor

"Good morning," I greeted Cherie as I came downstairs. "That smells nice."

"Thanks," she called from the kitchen. "I thought I'd cook breakfast, earn my keep around here."

"Well, you don't have to, but it's definitely appreciated." I strolled through the living room and into the kitchen. "How are you this morning? You look happy."

"I am." She gave me a beaming smile, then put down the pan for a moment to give me a heartfelt hug. "I just wanted to say thank you."

I hugged her back, then leaned against the table and watched as she took up the pan again. "You're welcome, but if you're talking about the roof over your head, that's more Dad's doing than mine."

"No, not that." She sprinkled a touch of salt onto the scrambled eggs. "I saw footage last night about a robbery by the Red Hands gang. Regent, Tattletale and Hellhound from the Undersiders must have joined them after leaving Brockton Bay."

"While Grue rebranded as Tenebrae and went into the Wards, yeah." I nodded to show I was keeping up. Cherie hadn't met Brian and Aisha and Riley yet; the less she knew, the less she could let slip.

"Uh huh." A grin lurked on her lips as she made sure none of the eggs were sticking to the pan. "So, when he showed up with the Protectorate to the crime scene, the Red Hands were still on site. They came out to delay while their teammates were still inside. I wasn't there so I can't tell how serious they were, but Regent showed real, actual emotion while he was talking to Tenebrae. More emotion than I've seen him show in literally years."

"Regent's your brother, yeah?" I started getting plates out of the cupboard. "If he was as bad off as you were when I first met you …"

"Worse." She shook her head. "A lot worse. When I knew him, he couldn't have faked the emotions I saw on that clip if you paid him a million dollars. But now … he's better. Because you helped him. And I want to thank you for that, and for the rest of my brothers and sisters."

"Well …" I laid the plates out on the table. "You're welcome. And you've helped me out a lot since you came here, so it hasn't all been one way."

Cherie nodded firmly. "Good. I'm glad."

PRT Building

Director's Office

Emily leaned back in her chair and surveyed the multiple callers on her (now clean) screen. All PRT Directors, their level of unhappiness measurable in direct relation to their proximity to Brockton Bay. Front and centre, of course, was Chief Director Costa-Brown.

"Good morning, all." The Chief Director managed to look impassive and pissed at the same time, which was a good trick. Emily had only ever managed to look pissed. 'Impassive' was something she was still working on. "I hope you've all viewed the footage that was sent on to you." If they hadn't, the implication went, they might not have their jobs in a few minutes.

A wave of nods spread across the screen. It seemed everyone was anxious to retain their jobs.

"Good. That incident happened yesterday afternoon. Director Piggot?"

Emily nodded and sat forward again. "We've had our best techs analyse each frame of all the footage for any hint of data manipulation. Nobody found anything. Likewise, chemical analysis of the sword that was used to kill him, and his bloodstream found nothing that could be pinpointed as the cause of his power loss." If she'd found it, she would've had it bottled.

Armstrong, in Boston, raised his head. "So, all you've got to go on is Atropos saying that she killed his powers, with no hint of how it was done."

"Correct." Emily eyed her fellow Directors. "Before anyone suggests that we bring her in and question her, that is a terrible idea, especially considering that we have strong evidence that she is either allied to a teleporting cape or has access to a Tinkertech teleporter. Also, her Thinker rating is such that she will see such an attempt coming. Right now, we have the equivalent of an armed détente with her, that she is choosing to maintain. We don't really have any leverage in the matter."

"So, no change there," observed the Chief Director. "Director Pritchard, how are the Elite reacting in San Francisco to Bastard Son's death?"

Pritchard held up her hand palm down, tilting it from side to side in a 'so-so' motion. "I've put out feelers, but the vast majority of what I'm hearing is that he poked the hornet nest all by himself. The Elite have apparently been warned that Brockton Bay is off-limits, and this just underlined that. I suspect the 'killing powers' section was what really grabbed their attention."

Emily would not have been surprised in the slightest, especially given that the Elite were specifically an organisation made up of capes. She just hoped that none of their young bloods came to Brockton Bay to 'handle' the threat of Atropos, because that would just lead to more bodies on her kill count, and stress on Emily's PRT officers.

Hearthrow, in Chicago, half-raised his hand to get attention. "If we had nothing else to go on, I was wondering if this new ability to kill powers might be somehow related to her already-noted claim to be able to kill Endbringers."

Emily snorted silently. As far as she was concerned, it all fell under that bullshit PHO banner of 'can actually kill anything'. Though, she was careful to note, if Atropos did manage to take down an Endbringer, it would go a long way toward Emily actually approving of her. Emily was only human, after all.

"Not as far as we know," the Chief Director said. "Watchdog still refuses to have anything to do with her. Director Piggot, you're still trying to reach out to her?"

"Yes, with limited success." Read: zero success. "However, she did speak with one of my officers the other day. The encounter was cordial on both sides, and it seems she came away with a positive view of our organisation."

"Yes; I read the PHO post." Costa-Brown raised an eyebrow. "Do you actually have any villains in the city anymore? Apart from Atropos, I mean?"

Emily shook her head. "No, but we have a bunch of new rogues, some of whom I suspect used to be extremely minor villains before Atropos made her mark. And of course, we have Tenebrae in the Wards. Despite a recent hiccup, he's integrating very successfully."

"Yes. I saw that too." Emily wasn't quite sure if Costa-Brown's lip had just twitched, or if it was a trick of the light. "If there is nothing more for anyone to add about Atropos' new ability, I'm calling this meeting to a close." There was silence for the next few moments, as everyone waited for someone else to say something. "Very well. Meeting is over."

Emily clicked the mouse button to cut the call, and sat back in her chair. Welcome to the madness that is my job. It wasn't like the other Directors could do anything about it, but aggravation shared was almost the same as aggravation halved.

Getting up, she poured herself a cup of coffee, then sat back down at her desk. Meetings were all well and good, but sometime actual work had to get done.