22
A Darker Path
Part Twenty-Two: Negating the Nine
[A/N 1: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]
[AN 2: Just as a point of interest, the first thousand words of this were written at thirty-five thousand feet, on an Embraer 190 flying from Brisbane back up to Townsville.]
Relevant Side Story:
Deal With Dragon, by YuffieK
Dragon thought hard about the events of the past hour as she set a course to the Rig. Jack Slash and his crew had terrorized the nation for nearly two decades and she couldn't imagine the sort of celebrations that would break out upon the news of his demise. Her musings were interrupted as her optics saw two men in masks waving at her with large white handkerchiefs from a nearby rooftop.
Dragon banked over to land in an adjacent abandoned lot, before turning to the pair who had somehow been in the perfect position to flag her down."Uber, Leet. Are you turning yourselves in?"
"No. And as we're not actively committing a crime right now, you can't arrest us without a warrant. Which you currently don't have." Uber replied in a surprisingly confident manner. "We're just here to talk, and retrieve something that was borrowed."
"I wondered how Atropos managed to get your Snitch. I need to take it to the PRT, the recording on it..."
"We know. The Death of the Slaughterhouse Nine in full THX 3D. Part of the reason she wanted to borrow it. Us being here right now is also part of it. Suffice to say that she is rather scarily prepared." Uber continued.
"We need to have PRT analysts go over the footage. I can't just give it away."
"Are you suggesting that you're about to illegally confiscate TinkerTech? Perish the thought." the sarcasm from Uber was practically tangible. "We'd rather prefer your erstwhile American boyfriend not try and tear the Snitch apart."
"You think Armsmaster would do that?"
"The Snitch is one of the best things I've ever created." Leet piped in. "The sort of self-powered autonomous surveillance drone law enforcement would kill their grandmother over. Plus, it's comparatively TINY. You can't tell me Halbeard wouldn't have an orgasmic fugue over the chance to look at it."
Dragon mulled over the concept and concluded that, yes, Colin probably would do that.
"Look, we're not going to leave you out of the loop. I'll make a copy of the video for you right now." Leet sighed slightly, before pulling a rather thick notebook out from a hip satchel. "Plus... a copy of all my Tinkering notes regarding the Snitch. If anyone can duplicate it, it's you."
"This is Atropos' idea isn't it?"
"We want to go out on something big. It's been made painfully clear to us that we're not going to last very long if we stay in Brockton Bay. It'll take some time for us to secure and lockdown some of the stuff I've built. When we're done with everything and get out of Dodge, I've been encouraged to say that you're the best person to hand whatever we leave behind over to."
"You don't trust the Protectorate?"
"As a professional courtesy between Tinkers, I don't trust anyone besides my buddy here right now. I'm sure that the PRT has people who are willing to try and use my stuff regardless of the potential consequences. I know what I'm capable of. I'd rather not have someone who thinks they know what they're doing messing around with my tech and accidentally oops a city or two."
"I'm not sure what to say."
"Give us an hour to edit the video for any R-rated content and post it online and you don't have to say anything but 'Yes'." Uber said with a huge grin.
Now, back to your regularly scheduled narrative ...
Taylor
Dad waited until we were merged with other traffic before he spoke again. "So ... I've got to know. What was the fire extinguisher for? And why did you cut off the spray nozzle?"
"Well, it was a handy blunt instrument for stunning Shatterbird and smashing her mask to get a piece of glass exactly the right shape," I explained earnestly. "Smooth one way, jagged the other, and just big enough to totally block her airway. Also, it turns out that Burnscar can't breathe carbon dioxide. In fact, it gave her a fatal case of brain-freeze. And frostbite of the lungs, which is apparently a thing."
"I ... see," he mused, concentrating on traffic. "How about the rest of them? Am I likely to toss my cookies when I find out how you dealt with them?"
"Hmm." I considered the question. "Don't ask about Mannequin. He didn't have any physical Achilles heels, so I had to get ... nasty with him."
Dad turned his head to stare at me for half a second, then returned his eyes to the road. "Good God," he muttered. "I saw what you did to Lung and Skidmark. And you're saying you did something nastier than that?"
"Yeah." I didn't want to overly traumatise him, so I shrugged. "He was already broken. All I had to do was break him a little harder."
"Right." He shuddered a little. "Should I be feeling sorry for him?"
"If you want." I turned to look at him. "At the end of the day, Mannequin was human enough to be affected by what I did. He still had regrets and sorrows, mainly because he lost everyone he loved to the Simurgh when he tried to make the world a better place. My sole problem with him was coming to try and recruit or kill me for succeeding where he failed, like he did with every other cape who did the same. If he'd chosen to, say, write apocalyptic novels with creepily sinister overtones instead of joining the Nine, while limiting himself to killing cats and the occasional homeless person, he'd be alive right now."
Dad frowned. "So ... you wouldn't go after him for that?"
"Not unless he was doing it in Brockton Bay, no." I could tell he had trouble understanding my motives, and tried to explain. "I'm not setting myself up as a world cop, or even America's protector. That's way too damn tedious. Also, too reactive to be of any real use. If something is going to affect me, I end it. Hurting you or Aisha would affect me, so you're under my umbrella too, but I'm not about to waste time and energy solving problems which don't affect me. Am I making sense to you?"
"Well, it certainly straddles the line between 'ruthless' and 'pragmatic'," he observed. "Which isn't a bad thing, per se. You've made the world a measurably better place in just one week, which is more than most heroes can claim. And I can't blame you for not wanting to take on all the world's problems."
I gave him a smile. "Thanks. I knew you'd understand."
"Anytime." He did his best attempt at a 'cool Dad' voice. "You know I'm here for you."
"I do know, and I appreciate it." About then, my phone rang. I already had it in my hand, so I answered it. "Atropos."
"Hello, Atropos." It was Dragon's voice. "My drones have done a search of the area and located six bodies; or partial bodies in Crawler's case. Where are Bonesaw and the Siberian? And who is the dead man in the burning van?"
"Second question first," I said. "William Manton. Yes, that William Manton. He went mad, got powers, and ended up as a Master with a projection."
"Siberian." It wasn't a question.
"Correct on the first try. As for Bonesaw, I have her."
"I can guarantee you, nobody in the PRT or Protectorate will be comfortable with this state of affairs."
"I can guarantee you, even fewer people would be comfortable with the diseases that would've escaped her body if I'd killed her, and that will escape her body if she dies without the proper precautions being taken. So, I'm going to deal with this myself. One thing I can promise you without reservation, though."
"What's that?"
I permitted myself a grin. "Bonesaw is never returning. No matter what happens, her reign of terror has been permanently ended."
"And you know how to deal with this?" It was more a plea than a question.
"I do. Do you trust me to be able to handle it?"
She sighed. "Damn it, I do. Your performance over the last few days, as horrifying as it was, has taught me that you know what you're doing. Don't make me regret it … please."
"I won't. I promise." I ended the call. "Dad, could you drop me and Bonesaw off at the same park we went to yesterday? I'll give you a call when I'm ready for pickup."
"Not a problem." He indicated to change lanes. "Just by the way, those two explosions I heard when I was driving into the area ...?"
"Crawler and Siberian," I explained. "With those two, I had to go brute-force."
As I'd expected, he took it in his stride. "Ah."
Panacea
Home life was not great for Amy right now. Vicky was still smarting over the absolute tongue-lashing she'd gotten from Carol over destroying the damn picnic table, not to mention attempting to engage Atropos against the PRT's direct orders. As a result, she was making sure not to suffer alone, moping all over the house and bringing the whole mood down.
What had to be irritating her the most was the implicit understanding that if she'd succeeded in taking down the murderous cape, all would have been forgiven, PRT directive or no. But she hadn't even had a chance; Amy could see it all now. Not only had Atropos toyed with Vicky like a cat teasing a particularly dull-witted mouse, but she'd left her would-be captor with nothing more than bruises and a few lost eyelashes. The message had been clear: 'I can hurt you worse than killing you would ever achieve'.
Consequently, Vicky was currently grounded, which meant that if Amy wanted to go somewhere, she would have to accept some other mode of transport. Getting out of the house was actually starting to look more and more attractive, given Vicky's foul mood. But she didn't want to hang out by herself at the Boardwalk, and going to the hospital for another round of humdrum healing appealed even less than it normally did.
As she currently half-lay slumped on the sofa, not even bothering to focus on the show currently playing on the TV, her phone pinged with a text. Hi. Remember that favor? Calling it in - A.
Her eyes widened. There could only be one person saying this. Still, no sense in taking chances. Who is this?
Less than half a second after she sent the query, one word popped up on her screen. Quack.
Ducks. We were feeding the ducks. Atropos didn't mention that on PHO at all. This has got to be legit.
Or is she having a dig at me about being a healer?
I can't think about that right now.
Okay, she typed. What's the favor?
Return to the scene of the crime, Atropos instructed her. All will be revealed.
This was another indicator that it was indeed Atropos messaging her, given how Westlake Park hadn't been named in the posts either. Atropos hadn't warned her to come alone, but it wasn't like she wanted any witnesses for whatever the villain was forcing her to do. Atropos had stuck to the bargain—not one word of endangering the civilians had made it online—so Amy was going to do likewise with her side of it.
She had to admit, the descriptor of 'not hugely illegal' did not fill her with confidence, but it wasn't like she'd had a choice in the matter. Vicky had well and truly put her foot in it this time, and it was up to Amy to bail her out ... again.
Getting up off the sofa, she went and got her coat. "I'm going out for a while," she announced.
Carol leaned out of her office doorway. "Where are you going?"
"The park." Amy kept her tone non-committal. "I need to clear my head. I shouldn't be too long."
Just for a moment, Carol frowned, and Amy thought she was going to forbid it. Then she nodded once, sharply. "Alright. If you see Atropos again, leave the area at once, and call the PRT."
Several smartass comments vied for supremacy, but Amy suppressed them all. "Don't worry. I have absolutely no desire to be that close to her ever again." It was the literal truth, yet totally misleading about her intentions.
"Good." Carol vanished again. Her voice drifted out through the open doorway. "Let me know when you're back."
"Okay." Amy headed for the door, shrugging into her coat. As she went out the door, she pulled out her phone and dialled for a cab. I have no fucking idea what I'm walking into, but I've got this far. Might as well see it through.
Taylor
I was perched on the single surviving bench of the (still destroyed) picnic table when Panacea arrived. Her whole attitude radiated nuclear-reactor levels of sheer pissiness, but I couldn't be sure if it was all caused by me or if some was pre-existing. As she stomped in my direction, I stood up and turned to face her.
"Good afternoon," I said politely. "Would you like to hear the good news or the bad news?"
She glanced briefly at the blanket-covered form at my feet, then gave me a glare which would've stripped paint at ten paces. "I doubt very much that anything you do ends up as good news. Vicky's in the shit because your little friend had to blab to everyone online what she did."
"Not everything she did," I corrected her blandly. "And the public will remain unaware of it exactly as long as you want them to. So: good news or bad news first?"
"Good news." Her jaw was set like granite. "But—"
"I just ended the Slaughterhouse Nine." I couldn't lie to myself; dropping that bomb was totally deliberate. Panacea was absolutely determined to not react well to me for any reason at all, and I totally wanted to see the look on her face when I did.
"You … what?" When she realised what I'd said, her look of pure startlement was amazing. "The Nine? You killed them all? That's … that can't be true."
I held up my hand to stop her. "Not all, not all. I said I ended them. They're all dead except for one." Reaching down, I flicked the blanket off Bonesaw's comfortably sleeping form. "Voila."
"Jesus Christ!" She literally jumped back about three feet. "You left her fucking alive?"
"Well, yes." Hadn't I already said so? "She's got reservoirs inside her body set up to release several ludicrously virulent diseases shortly after life signs cease. One of them is even coded with the ability to dissolve plastic and metal, so it will open the way out of sterile lockdown for the rest of them. She's currently unable to wake up—I poked her brain a little bit in the right place—but it might be a great idea for the eastern seaboard if you neutralised the diseases and removed all the after-market optional extras she's implanted herself with."
"And you didn't turn her over to the PRT to do the same why exactly?"
I knew she couldn't see me raise an eyebrow, but I did it anyway. "Because you're the one person who can neutralise the threat she poses without turning everywhere from Toronto to Savannah to Chicago into a ghost town."
"And this is your favour?" she asked bitterly. "Present me with a life-or-death scenario and say, 'hey, time to be a hero, hero'."
"No, the favour was you showing up," I said candidly. "And let's be honest; if anyone else brought her to you with the same problem, you'd be all over it like white on rice. You're just hesitating because I kill people and I'm 'not to be trusted'." I did finger-quotes for emphasis.
She paused, looking down at Bonesaw. "I want your word this isn't some kind of trap. That you're not trying to get more blackmail material on me."
"This isn't a trap," I replied. "I'm trying to persuade you into performing what might be considered as a criminal act in some jurisdictions, but it's all in a good cause. No more blackmail." Purely for shits and giggles, I threw in, "Scout's honour."
"Any blackmail is a crime," she snarked, but she crouched beside Bonesaw all the same. "And I doubt you were ever in the Scouts." Tentatively, she reached out and laid her hand on the little murder-munchkin's cheek. Immediately, her eyes widened. "Holy shit," she breathed. "Holy shit."
"Mm-hmm," I acknowledged. "She made a thorough job of it, didn't she?"
"Yeah," Panacea said absently. "How exactly did you nail her hypothalamus so neatly? Half an inch either way or farther on, and she'd be dead right now."
"Because I didn't want her dead; not then, anyway." I knew it was a non-answer, but I didn't feel like playing Twenty Questions about my power right then.
"Uh huh." Eyes unfocused, she started removing items from Bonesaw's body.
I helpfully put them in the backpack I'd been carrying the fire extinguisher in. We didn't want to litter, after all. Meanwhile Panacea muttered to herself, her fingers apparently buried in Bonesaw's flesh. It was oddly fascinating and would've been disturbing, if I'd allowed myself to feel disturbed.
The operation took a while, but at last Panacea sat back on her heels and ran her hands over her face. "Wow. Damn, that was harder than I thought it was going to be. She's going to need some serious biomass to make up what I just took out of her."
"So, the diseases are neutralised and all the foreign items are out of her system, huh?" I put the backpack to one side and stood up. Bonesaw—no, Riley—was almost on the emaciated side now. I could see how she was going to need feeding up.
"Yup." Panacea stood also and gave me a challenging look. "I know what you're going to ask me to do next."
"You do, huh?" I kept the amusement I was feeling out of my voice.
"Yeah." Her jaw was thrust out as a challenge. "You're gonna ask me to wake her back up so you can take her on as your apprentice or some other stupid shit. Well, let me tell you right now: that ain't gonna fly. I can't do brains."
"Hah, no," I said. "I want you to kill Bonesaw."
She blinked, then stared at me and then down at the girl sleeping peacefully between us. "You have got to be kidding. I don't use my powers to hurt people."
I sighed. "No. You're not getting it. Not to kill her. To go into her brain and wind back the last six years, and kill everything about her involved with being Bonesaw, only leaving behind who she was before. A young girl named Riley Grace Davis. Then wake her up, as Riley. Hell, implant the urge to do good, so she never goes down that rabbit-hole again."
Already, she was shaking her head. "No. Nope. Never. Not going to happen. Didn't you hear me when I said I can't do brains?"
"I heard you." I didn't call her on the lie, because I didn't want her digging her heels in. "Did you know that Jack Slash was a Master? A very subtle one, but he was really good at making villains want to work for him and heroes not want to target him. He encouraged young Riley, once she was coerced into working for his merry band of fuckwits, to get more and more gruesome as she went along."
"Oh, so now she's a victim?" Panacea stared at me disbelievingly. "Don't give me that. I've seen footage of her. She doesn't need any encouragement at all."
"Allow me to posit a hypothetical," I said. "Imagine that Vicky decides one day to go and capture Heartbreaker, because he's a villain. But instead, he captures her. Within minutes, she's his willing slave. You all try to rescue her, but he keeps slipping away, with her helping him. Six months later, you find out that she's been successfully rescued, but even without him at her side to give her orders, she's so indoctrinated that the Vicky you knew has been entirely overlaid by the Heartbreaker love slave persona. She knows who you are, but she's also perfectly prepared to hurt or kill any of her 'rescuers' to escape and get back to Heartbreaker. Worse, she's just as willing to pretend to be rehabilitated until she gets a chance to break free and run straight back to her master." I paused, as Panacea stared at me in horror. "In that situation, what do you do? Roll back the Mastering, or leave her as she is?"
Her fists clenched and she gritted her teeth, "Fuck you," she muttered. Her glare by now would've bored a hole straight through a six-inch plate of tungsten carbide. "Seriously … fuck you."
"Jack Slash has literally had Riley under his thumb for half her life," I observed non-committally. "Don't you want to help me totally fuck up that legacy? She was his last, best monster."
She was almost there, but her own conditioning was still pushing back. I knew what was coming next, though, and how to counter it.
"And what if I told you to handle your own fucking mess, and walked away?" she asked tightly. "I saved the eastern seaboard. What happens now is up to you."
"True," I said. "It is." I drew my pistol.
"What now?" She rolled her eyes. "You're going to threaten to shoot me if I don't?"
"No." I aimed the pistol at where Riley lay on the ground between us. "If you don't think it's worth your time to eradicate Bonesaw, then I'll do it my way." Dramatically, I pulled back the slide to let it chamber a round. "One shot, problem done. Don't worry; she won't feel a thing. Ever again."
"Wait, what? No!" She held out her hands as if to stop me. "You can't just kill her!"
"I think you'll find I can," I corrected her. "It's very much what I do. Ask the rest of the Nine. Oh, wait. You can't."
"No, I mean killing helpless prisoners is wrong. It's all kinds of illegal, and it'll get other capes down on your back quicker than almost anything else." Her tone was almost desperate now.
I snorted. "First off, her kill order says otherwise. Second, even if it didn't, do I come across as someone who gives the slightest fuck about what's legal and what's not?" I sighted the pistol in on Riley's head. "As the old quote goes: 'say goodnight, Gracie'."
"I'll do it!" It was almost a scream. Panacea dropped to her knees beside the gently slumbering Riley. "I'll fix her." The glare she shot up at me was full of hate. "But not for you. For who she used to be."
"Eh, whatevs. No skin off mine." I uncocked the hammer, applied the safety, and holstered the pistol. "I'm good either way, so long as she's not gonna be a danger to Brockton Bay anymore."
"Shut up, I'm working." Putting her hands on either side of Riley's head, Panacea concentrated. From the sheen of sweat that sprang up on her forehead, she was having to be very precise about the memories and attitudes she adjusted, lest she impinge on the original personality and attitudes of who Bonesaw had once been.
If she'd simply done it because I'd asked her, she would've let her own attitudes affect her work. While not slipshod, it wouldn't have been the best she could do. But because I'd deliberately made myself the bad guy, uncaring whether Riley lived or died, Panacea was now dedicated to bringing her back as far as possible, as a screw-you to me. Like fear, spite was one of the tools available to me, and I was perfectly willing to use it whenever I needed to.
I watched with interest, interspersed with the occasional look around to ensure we didn't have any eavesdroppers. Nobody was due to stumble on us before Panacea was done, but being careful was rarely a bad idea. Letting Panacea get caught doing stuff she wasn't supposed to be able to do would be kind of a dick move on my part.
Eventually, she sat back on her heels and breathed deeply. "Okay, it's finished. Bonesaw's done. She's history." Her voice held an odd mixture of pride and disgust at what she'd just accomplished. I figured the disgust wasn't aimed at Riley but at herself for being proud of her success.
"And Riley?" I asked. "How much of her were you able to salvage?"
"Oh, pretty well all." Panacea gave me a defiant look. "She'll never be your little sidekick, though. She's totally against torture and killing. I made sure of it."
"I don't do torture for fun," I corrected her. "When I do apply it, it's always a means to an end. So, what've you done to her?"
Panacea took a deep breath. "I brought her earlier personality back up from under and de-aged her by about two years to explain the reduced body mass. She'll know that she was Mastered, but I've blunted the emotional impact of the memories so that all she'll really get out of it is a determination to never let anyone force her into killing again. I also fixed that cute little brain surgery you pulled, as well as the ear injury, and made it so she'll wake up naturally in about eight hours. She's gonna need that long for her head to sort everything out." She tilted her head and looked at me, eyebrows raised. "Though right now she's a homeless orphan with looks and powers exactly like Bonesaw's, and no place to go. Any ideas on how to fix that, genius?"
"One or two." I showed her a picture on my phone, one of the selfies I'd taken with Aisha. "Think you could maybe make her look a little bit like my friend here?"
She stared at me, then looked at the picture. "That would definitely reduce the chances of anyone figuring out who she was, but why those particular people?"
I grinned inside the mask. "Well …"
Dragon
If Dragon had been capable of blinking in confusion, she would have. "You want me to create a false identity from the ground up, for a ten-year-old girl, and link it to the Laborns?"
"That's exactly what I want you to do," Atropos said breezily. "Once you come pick her up, you'll be able to acquire pics and other relevant data at your leisure."
"Okay. I'm not saying I'll do it, and I'm not saying I won't." Dragon sought some level of stability in what was going on here. "But I'm going to need a little more information."
"Okay. You know how I said I was going to deal with the Bonesaw problem?"
"Yes …"
"Well, the Bonesaw persona is now utterly extinct, but now we have a ten-year-old child cape suffering from a mild case of amnesia. She's lost almost her entire family in a tragic series of events that I'll leave you to rig the records for. Her only next of kin will be Brian and Aisha Laborn … that is, the latest Brockton Bay Ward, and his sister. Who better to take care of a brand-new Wards recruit than her own family?"
"Wait. Wait, wait, wait." Dragon was pretty sure she had the whole picture by now, but there were details missing. "Have you spoken to the Laborns about this?"
"Not yet, but Aisha will jump at the chance of having someone she can mentor in the art of causing chaos, and she'll badger her brother into agreeing. Not that he'll disagree too strongly, once I make my case."
"And you think they'll be okay with taking Bonesaw into their home?"
"Riley." Atropos' tone was firm. "Her name is Riley Grace Laborn."
Dragon sighed. "Okay, will Riley be okay with this?"
"She will remember her life up until six years old, and have the vague knowledge of what she did under the influence of Jack Slash. However, she will also take the whole 'do no harm' aspect very seriously, and she'll be fully aware that she needs to get as far away from the Bonesaw concept as possible, so this will be her best chance of starting fresh as a hero. The full truth will only be known by a very few people. These will not include anyone in the chain of command of the PRT."
"But the Director—"
"—would be all over her case the instant she found out. Riley wouldn't have the slightest chance to make a good impression. It's much better this way."
"Damn it." Dragon was fully aware that if her entire safeguards had been in place, this would've been a very different conversation. But the more Atropos presented the idea, the more it made sense. "You're corrupting me."
"No, that's you showing you've got an open mind."
Dragon had to ask the question. "If something slips in the conditioning you gave her—you're going to have to tell me how you managed that trick someday—and she reverts to original Bonesaw, what then?"
There was no hesitation in Atropos' voice. "I'll know. And I'll be there."
Thus spoke the girl who had murdered four crime lord capes (well, three and a half) so gruesomely that the overall crime rate of the city had plummeted almost overnight. Nobody wanted to be out in the shadows when they could contain … her. She had stated her intention of ending the Slaughterhouse Nine, and had pulled it off so thoroughly, the only thing left was to identify the bodies.
If anyone could curtail the hypothetical rampage of a reverted Bonesaw, it was Atropos.
Dragon sighed. It was a useful verbal tic, and actually helped reduce stress. "Fine. I'll do it. I'll also verify Bonesaw's death for you. I've been offered half the Crawler bounty for being the one who fired the missile, but I'm going to donate it toward your cause anyway."
"Thank you. I appreciate it." The words were sincere, but held no surprise.
She chuckled. "Despite the headaches you've given me, you've also made my life a hell of a lot easier. It's the least I can do for a good cause." She paused for a beat. "But we're still not friends. Just saying."
"As soon as you get rid of the law enforcement thing, I can take away the patch. Just saying."
"Working on it. But I'll make a start on that fake identity as soon as you send the images through. How did you do that, anyway?" The only cape Dragon knew whose power could even conceivably do such things was Panacea, and after the humiliation Atropos had handed Glory Girl, there would be very little love lost there at all. She certainly wouldn't offer to assist Bonesaw like that out of the goodness of her heart.
There was a grin in Atropos' voice. "You'll find out someday."
"You are very irritating."
"Thank you."
Panacea
Amy watched from the concealment of the trees as Dragon's suit descended toward the middle of the park. She was too far away to hear the conversation as Atropos approached with Riley—remade as per her suggestion—in her arms, but the attitude seemed to be relatively cordial. A hatch opened in the side of the draconic mech, and Atropos carefully loaded Riley within.
With the girl secured, Atropos backed away and Dragon took off again. Amy wasn't at all sure what excuse she would give for the flying visit to the park, but having serious law enforcement chops had to come with some perks.
With an air of satisfaction, Atropos strolled back toward where Amy waited. "Well, expect a new Ward in the city within forty-eight hours. All done, dusted and above board."
"I'm not even going to ask how you talked Dragon into helping you out." Amy both wanted to know, and really really didn't. "But what's got me confused is why you're even doing this. Yeah, I know, I know, fucking with Jack Slash's legacy, but you could do that plenty of other ways. Why go to so much trouble and pull in so many markers just to rehabilitate one tweenage mass murderer?"
"I foresee a number of uses for her," Atropos said. "And aside from that, I don't need a sidekick, but maybe you'd like an understudy sometime. If, say, one of your patients needed a brain injury fixed."
"The first part, I can totally believe." Amy wrinkled her nose. "The second part, not so much. You don't do good, or nice. And you definitely don't do casual favours for no reason."
"All very true." It was very irritating, not being able to see Atropos' expression. "Which suggests I had a reason, and that I didn't do it just to be nice. Quick question: how do you feel, after the fact, about the modifications you just did on Riley?"
And that was the other thing Amy hadn't wanted to think about. "It was … easy. Almost fun. Too easy, in a weird way. I've never done something so thorough to a person before, but it was like I'd been doing it for years. I didn't have to stop and wonder if I was doing it right." She absolutely was not going to admit to the near euphoria that was trying to flood through her system right then.
"Mmm." The wordless hum sounded thoughtful.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Amy didn't intend to be snappish, but this entire episode was so far out of her experience that she figured she had a good excuse.
Fortunately, Atropos didn't seem to take offense. "I get along with my power quite well. I want to do something, it suggests a way, I make modifications, and we come to an agreement. How well do you get along with yours? Or don't you even talk to it?"
Panacea blinked. "You talk to your power?"
"Sure. Don't you?" Atropos paused, clearly inviting an answer, but Amy didn't take the bait. "Huh. You don't? Well, maybe you should start listening. That ugh feeling when you do regular healing might just be your power getting seriously bored. And the way you just powered through giving Riley her makeover, and the endorphins you're experiencing right now … maybe that's your power rewarding you for letting it stretch its legs for once."
What the actual living fuck? "How do you know all this stuff?" There was no way she was going to be able to lie to Atropos. That was a certainty.
Typically irritating, Atropos didn't answer the question. "Tell me I'm wrong."
"Well, how do I fix it?" She almost shouted the question.
"The way I see it, this can go one of two ways." Atropos' tone was calm and measured. "The first way, you repress your power's urgings and at some point it'll activate all by itself and do something everyone will regret. Or the second way, you find other directions to express your power and keep it fat and happy. Your choice." She glanced to the side. "My ride's almost here. Think about it. Oh, and one other thing."
Amy still despised Atropos and all she stood for with every fibre of her being, but that didn't mean she was stupid. "What?"
"Have your sister watch the Uber and Leet show tonight. It's their last one."
"Good." As far as Amy was concerned, Uber and Leet were an embarrassment to capes everywhere. "But why should she watch it?"
Atropos shrugged. "Well, aside from the historical significance, she might learn something. Just saying." She turned and started off toward the trees. "Nice chat. See you around."
"See you never," muttered Amy. She deliberately headed in a different direction, pulling out her phone to call a cab. The meeting with Atropos had left her with a lot to think about, and she wasn't sure she was going to be able to get her head around it all at once.
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Topic: The Slaughtered House None
In: Boards ► Brockton Bay ► New Capes ► Atropos
Atropos (Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me) (Verified Smartass)
Posted On Jan 9th 2011:
Hi all!
I hope we've all had a wonderfully relaxing Sunday. I know I have.
Of course, your definition of 'relaxing' might differ slightly from mine, but mileage is always allowed to vary.
If you were paying attention, you may have noticed my declaration of intent to throw a party for the Slaughterhouse Nine that they'd never forget (or recover from). So imagine my (lack of) astonishment when they came all the way to Brockton Bay to throw their own surprise party, just for my benefit.
Well, of course I couldn't disappoint them, so I showed up. Boy, were the festivities *wild*.
Shatterbird and Burnscar greeted me at the door and welcomed me to the party, but Shatterbird got something stuck in her throat and then Burnscar ended up with brain-freeze and had to lie down. Some people simply don't know how to party.
I had a little chat with Mannequin, about his family as I recall. At first he didn't want to open up but then he spilled his guts. Just came apart at the seams. Kind of a sad case, really.
Hatchet Face was more energetic, and we ended up playing a rather fun game of tag. While we were doing that, Crawler ate something that didn't agree with him, but that's Crawler all over.
It was around about then that Hatchet Face lost his axe. I found it and gave it back to him, but by then he was out of breath and had to lie down too.
It turns out that Siberian wasn't too happy with me, but I apologized and I'm pretty sure she understood I was being sincere. I even gave her a gift before she had to pop off.
Bonesaw wanted to introduce me to all her little friends. They were so cute and I got along with them like a house on fire; shouts screams, people running around in panic. But she unfortunately ended up with an earache and had to catch a nap as well.
That leaves Jack Slash. What can I say about the man that hasn't been said before? Well, he was a pretentious prick, and seemed to think that waving a knife around made him a big man. It just made him a punk with a knife, really. We debated that and several other points quite vigorously, but in the end I disarmed his argument and he had to head off.
Oh, and I want to thank the Dockworkers' Association for their (involuntary) donation of a fire extinguisher.
I also want to thank Dragon for her assistance, and donation of a high-explosive party favor.
So, let's get back to Jacky-boy. When he was just a kid, his parents made him think there'd been a nuclear war and locked him into a fallout survival bunker, while they stayed outside. Now, parents: I know sending your kids to their rooms is a thing, but can you imagine how much of a little shit he must've been for them to go that far? For years, they kept up the masquerade, providing food and water from the outside and telling him he was being kept safe inside. In reality? They just didn't want to associate with him.
Meanwhile, Jack had this idea that when he was a grown man he'd leave the shelter and be the Chosen One to unite the remnants of civilization and lead the world into a new golden age. Or something like that; I don't know the exact details.
But instead, when he finally got out (at the tender age of twelve, folks) he found out it was the exact opposite. There never was a war, the world was trundling along just fine without him, and there was no need for a Chosen One. Of course, he triggered with powers, and he's been exacting his revenge on the world ever since. If it didn't want him to save it, he was going to kill it.
Talk about entitlement, right? How far up your own ass do you have to be to think like that?
This whole time, he's just been a spoiled little shit throwing a tantrum because the world refused to live up to his fantasies about it. And the Nine's been his little play-group of puppets, dragged along to carry out his twisted little whims along the way. Because oh yeah, he's been Mastering them. Ain't that a kicker.
So yeah, Jack Slash was a cheap punk with a knife and a cheat code. He lied and backstabbed, even with his nominal allies. He had no redeeming qualities and no discernible good points.
He will not be missed. (I certainly didn't).
In other news: I have an addendum to the list of people and organizations who are specifically unwelcome in Brockton Bay.
Red Hands
Heartbreaker
The Orchard
If you come here, I *will* end you. This counts as your first and only warning.
On the other side of things, I have been requested by the PRT to allow Uppercrust of the Elite into Brockton Bay for specific business. I will grant that exemption, but any attempts to perform information-gathering for the Elite will cause the exemption to be permanently rescinded.
Also, expect an update on the drug trade thing come Monday. And those of you who are currently hooked on whatever substance you've been abusing, take heart. In just a few days, rehab clinics will be opening across the city. Attend or not, as you will. But if you don't and your addiction gets the better of you, you only have yourself to blame. This is about Brockton Bay, not you.
Anyways, have a peaceful Sunday night.
Toodles!
(Showing page 1 of 74)
►TeamMom (Senior Moderator) (Verified Spoilsport)
Replied On Jan 9th 2011:
Okay, this is great news if it's true, but (no offence, Atropos) I'm going to need someone else to verify this report.
►Atropos (Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me) (Verified Smartass)
Replied On Jan 9th 2011:
None taken. Verify away.
Also, before I forget, I want to thank Uber & Leet for the generous loan of their trademark Snitch, with which I recorded the whole thing. They should be kicking off their last show, featuring highlights of the recorded footage, any minute now.
►Dragon (Veteran Member) (Verified Cape) (Protectorate Member) (Guild Member) (Verified Dragon)
Replied On Jan 9th 2011:
TeamMom, I can absolutely verify Atropos' claim. She actually invited me to assist her in carrying out the deed.
The Slaughterhouse Nine is *done*.
I took this picture myself, with a missile nosecone camera.
[HatchetFaceCrawlerAtropos]
►TeamMom (Senior Moderator) (Verified Spoilsport)
Replied On Jan 9th 2011:
Atropos – seriously? Please don't add frivolous tags to other accounts. Verified Dragon? Really?
►Atropos (Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me) (Verified Smartass)
Replied On Jan 9th 2011:
TeamMom – And what's wrong with that? She's Dragon. Don't be a spoilsport.
►TeamMom (Senior Moderator) (Verified Spoilsport)
Replied On Jan 9th 2011:
Not. Helping.
►Atropos (Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me) (Verified Smartass)
Replied On Jan 9th 2011:
Wow, touchy much? Okay, here, I'll even give myself a tag to make it even.
►Dragon (Veteran Member) (Verified Cape) (Protectorate Member) (Guild Member) (Verified Dragon)
Replied On Jan 9th 2011:
TeamMom – honestly, I don't mind. So long as it gets taken off again by tomorrow.
Atropos – you *will* take it off again, right?
►Atropos (Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me) (Verified Smartass)
Replied On Jan 9th 2011:
Dragon - *put-upon sigh* Yes, I will.
*wanders off to sharpen her shears, muttering about people with no sense of humor*
►Bagrat (Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)
Replied On Jan 9th 2011:
I've attended the site and viewed the bodies. I'm really not sure what the Nine were thinking when they came to town, but they had no idea of the meatgrinder they were walking into. I mean, I didn't even know they were here. Only Atropos and (apparently) Dragon did, and from what I understand, Atropos did most of the heavy lifting.
It turns out that the Siberian was a projection (which makes *so* much sense, in hindsight) but they're keeping the identity of the projecting cape under wraps for the moment. Suffice to say, that person died rather suddenly and unexpectedly. We're also missing Bonesaw's body, but Dragon has independently verified the death.
Just gonna say: trigger warnings for gore if/when you watch the U&L show, especially for Mannequin and Crawler. Still not as bad as Skidmark, but ... impressive, all the same.
End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ... 72, 73, 74
(Showing page 2 of 74)
►Atropos (Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me) (Verified Smartass)
Replied On Jan 9th 2011:
Yeah, about Bonesaw's body. She'd implanted disease reservoirs in herself that would've led to some spectacularly devastating plagues more or less depopulating the entire northeast corner of the States. I took her body away to neutralize those and dispose of it safely.
Is all good, folks. We get to live another day.
►UnconcernedFox
Replied On Jan 9th 2011:
*orders in a new shipment of popcorn*
*raises a cup of popcorn in a toast to Atropos*
*heads over to the Uber & Leet channel*
►Reave (Verified PRT Agent)
Replied On Jan 9th 2011:
This latest incident merely confirms what I'd already suspected. Atropos, you're evidently capable of working with others, including Protectorate members and (presumably) PRT agents. Dragon had nothing but praise for your capabilities in the field. Please, just come in to the PRT building. Let's sit down and talk.
►Atropos (Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me) (Verified Smartass)
Replied On Jan 9th 2011:
Reave - I do appreciate the offer, but the fact here is that I called Dragon in on it and she followed my instructions the whole way through. Can you guarantee, with hand on heart, that every single PRT agent (up to and including the Director) and Protectorate cape will do the same, that not one of them will try to exert some level of authority over me? Because I think they will. They're constitutionally incapable of not making the effort.
Also, as I mentioned before, there are some agents in that building who would shoot me on sight if they thought they could get away with it. They wouldn't survive the attempt, but that's not the point. I'd rather not have to deal with that awkwardness right now, so Imma keep doing things my way. After all, if it's not broke, right?
►Wherewolf
Replied On Jan 9th 2011:
inb4 Void Cowboy gets banned for making a joke about Crawler and deep-throating.
►XxVoid_CowboyxX
Replied On Jan 9th 2011:
Hey!
I'd never make a joke that crude around Atropos.
Anyway, you ruined it.
►Atropos (Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me) (Verified Smartass)
Replied On Jan 9th 2011:
Chill, guys. It's fine to make jokes like that.
Once.
►A_Dragon (Verified not *the* Dragon)
Replied On Jan 9th 2011:
Once the drug trade is done … man, there are going to be a lot of withdraw patients in a couple of days, having had a friend go through it was not pretty.
►Atropos (Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me) (Verified Smartass)
Replied On Jan 9th 2011:
I've got someone working on that.
►Urk (Purveyor of Cape!Fic)
Replied On Jan 9th 2011:
It would've been even more awesome if Uber and Leet had showed up with Ghostbusters packs and taken out the Siberian, working with the remnants of the E88 who haven't left town yet.
End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4 ... 72, 73, 74
(Showing page 3 of 74
►BattleLoaf
Replied On Jan 9th 2011:
Urk - Man, you sound like Void. That shit would never happen.
►HeresyGirl
Replied On Jan 9th 2011:
Atropos - Just gonna say, whoever you've got 'working on it' better be setting up a methadone clinic, or the fallout from every drug user in the city being forced to go cold turkey at once is gonna be catastrophic. And not just at the junkie level either. You're going to have housewives with opioid addictions and techbros with coke habits. You'll have people dying or suiciding just from the withdrawal symptoms.
►Atropos (Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me) (Verified Smartass)
Replied On Jan 9th 2011:
HeresyGirl - I specified that when I contacted them. It's being handled. Clinics will be set up, and people are going to be learning to stand on their own two feet.
Whether they like it or not.
►SilverGater
Replied On Jan 9th 2011:
Um … that bit with Mannequin? That's not just a particularly gruesome death. That's her demonstrating to *everyone* that she can literally *talk you to death*. No weapons needed.
Poor bastard.
And yes, I know I'm talking about Mannequin.
►Malarkey
Replied On Jan 9th 2011:
Called it.
I *said* that Atropos wanted the Snitch (not that it was a huge leap of logic).
Unfortunately, we didn't get the "all murderhobos die at the same time because of the Siberian".
Tho, those deaths were brutal. I mean, forcefeeding Shatterbird a piece of the same glass she was controlling was brutal (and ironic). Forcefeeding Burnscar a fire extinguisher's worth of freezing carbon dioxide was brutal.
But, Jesus, what she did to Mannequin. Nightmare inducing, that.
The best part was Hatchet Face and Crawler biting the dust almost simultaneously. The fact that Dragon got a photo was the cherry on top.
Taking a breather before I comment on the rest.
►SadKitteh
Replied On Jan 9th 2011:
-Fuck.-
I was curious how she was going to kill off some of them, but that psychological torture on Mannequin? Absolutely nasty. That's gonna put the fear of god into a lot of capes.
►Brocktonite03 (Veteran Member)
Replied On Jan 9th 2011:
That's gonna put the fear of *Atropos* into a lot of capes.
FTFY.
►BrickFrog
Replied On Jan 9th 2011:
Okay, but … how did whatever she did actually kill Crawler? Isn't he supposed to be crazy resistant to everything?
►XxVoid_CowboyxX
Replied On Jan 9th 2011:
Ooh, ooh, pick me!
You see the pic Dragon supplied? Where Hatchet Face is falling out the window? He's about to land on Crawler. And when he did, he negated all Crawler's powers. Including the crazy resistance to damage. Missile down throat, gibs everywhere.
Atropos is *badass*.
►BrickFrog
Replied On Jan 9th 2011:
But wouldn't he keep the resistance? I mean, super dense flesh is super dense flesh.
End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 ... 72, 73, 74
(Showing page 4 of 74)
►Atropos (Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me) (Verified Smartass)
Replied On Jan 9th 2011:
Not dense enough. Trust me, Void is absolutely correct on this one.
►Brocktonite03 (Veteran Member)
Replied On Jan 9th 2011:
Void Cowboy … being correct about something.
Truly, it is the end times.
►XxVoid_CowboyxX
Replied On Jan 9th 2011:
Hey, I resemble that remark!
►WingsOnHigh (Verified Not the Simurgh)
Replied On Jan 9th 2011:
I'm not sure what we should be freaking out about more.
The off map missile strike (courtesy of Dragon), the psychological destruction of Mannequin or the way she just *snipped* and the Siberian *vanished*. Cause those are definitely the 3 biggest highlights in terms of "What the fuck?" that she pulled during the fight.
►PhoenixFeathers
Replied On Jan 9th 2011:
When she said, "Dark in here, isn't it?" right behind Jack Slash, I got chills.
►Atrim
Replied On Jan 9th 2011:
So, final kill count is...
Shatterbird, Throat shredded from her own glass.
Burnscar, Extinguished
Mannequin, Self Mutilation
Crawler, Miss-led
Hatchet Face, took a hatchet to the face
Siberian, snipped
Jack Slash, Trapped and Slashed
Bonesaw, Vanished
►Brocktonite03 (Veteran Member)
Replied On Jan 9th 2011:
Not to stir trouble or anything, but … if Atropos took Bonesaw's body away, does she still get the kill order bounty?
►Reave (Verified PRT Agent)
Replied On Jan 9th 2011:
Brocktonite03 – Normally that would be a sticking point, yes. But the powers that be are leaning the other way at the moment. Mainly because we have footage of her a) stabbing Bonesaw in the brain and b) shooting Bonesaw in the head. Also because she has never yet lied to us, even when it would be in her best interests, so when she says Bonesaw is dead, I'm strongly inclined to believe her. Finally, Dragon is as close as we can get to an impartial witness, and she verified Bonesaw's demise as well. So that bounty will be paid along with the rest of them.
►TheRealPanacea (Verified Cape) (Cape Daughter) (New Wave Member)
Replied On Jan 9th 2011:
This is Glory Girl posting on Panacea's account (because my account is temp banned).
I've watched the whole thing through twice, with Amy helpfully pointing out things that I missed.
And I've got one thing to say.
Atropos – I'm *sorry*. I screwed up badly, and I hope you can forgive me for doing what I did. Please don't hurt my family over this.
►Atropos (Original Poster) (Banned) (You Wish) (UnVerified Cape) (Can Actually Kill Anything) (Yes, Really) (Watch Me) (Verified Smartass)
Replied On Jan 9th 2011:
Hi, Glory Girl!
It's good. We all make mistakes. Sometimes we even learn from them. Tell your sis from me, she's one of the good ones. (And yes, you're forgiven. This time. Mwahaha.)
End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 ... 72, 73, 74
Path to end the legacy of Jack Slash and the Slaughterhouse Nine: complete.
As the bus approached the city limits of Brockton Bay, the teenager blinked her way awake. Shuffling herself to a more upright posture, she looked out the window and wrinkled her nose. The landscape didn't appeal, but she wasn't there for the geography.
Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out her phone. Let's see what's been going on in the world for the last few hours.
When the headline popped up into her newsfeed, it was the last two words she'd ever expected—or wanted—to read. SLAUGHTERHOUSE SLAUGHTERED!
Pushing her fingers through her dark hair and disarranging the red streak that ran through it, Cherie Vasil stared at the screen in consternation.
"What … the … fuck?"