80

Chapter 80

A Darker Path

Part Eighty: Taking Steps

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

PRT ENE Wards Base

Clockblocker

The Wards area was empty when Dennis entered from the corridor. He glanced toward the currently-unmanned console, aware he was rostered on to it but secure in the knowledge that he still had a few minutes before he was due to take up his place in front of the screens. After half a day in school, this would be a welcome change … for about the first hour. After that, deadly boring.

On a whim, he sketched a bow toward the vacant room and intoned, "Greetings to all and sundry, no need for applause."

"Sorry, did you say something?" Aegis emerged from the kitchenette area with a glass of fruit juice.

"Nothing special," Dennis admitted, refusing to feel embarrassed. After all, he'd done many more embarrassing things in his time. "Just trying to live down to my reputation."

Aegis grinned. "Don't hurt yourself. How's your dad going?"

Dennis brightened, glad for the change in subject. "So far, everything's looking good. The docs are giving him a week to gain some strength, then they're going to run every check they can on him, short of grabbing each individual cell and asking it if it's seen any cancer around." He took a deep breath. "We're cautiously optimistic, but we've been here too many times before, so … yeah."

"Well, I've seen some of Riley's work, and she's a damn fine doctor and surgeon." Aegis clapped him on the shoulder. "I'd say he's got a solid chance of coming out the other side of this in good shape."

"Thanks, man." Dennis smiled wanly. "That means a lot. Heading out on patrol?"

"Yup. Soon as Triumph and Vista get in." Aegis slugged back the juice in one gulp, because of course he could ignore things like having it accidentally go up his nose or something. "Shouldn't you be costuming up?"

"No. Why?" Dennis gestured toward the console. "Soon as I make myself some ramen, I'll be the eye in the sky, the disembodied voice in your ear. All audio, no video, so no costume needed."

"Ah, no." Aegis shook his head. "Triumph is taking your shift. Vista's coming out with me. You're heading to New York on the transport. Didn't you get the text?"

"Ah … text? What text?" Dennis hauled his phone out and woke it up. The top text on the queue glared accusingly at him, informing him of what Aegis had just said. "I swear, I checked it five minutes ago!" He hadn't, but Aegis would never be able to prove otherwise.

"Uh huh." Aegis put the glass down solely so he could fold his arms disbelievingly. "The transport leaves in ten minutes. You're wasting time, just saying."

Dennis hated when people were right around him, and he was wrong. It was so unfair. On the way past where Aegis had put the glass, he brushed his finger against it, freezing it in place. "Why am I going to New York, anyway? Has Director Piggot figured out some other way of making my life miserable?"

"I guess you're just going to have to—oh, for fuck's sake. Clockblocker!"

"Sorry, can't hear you, gotta go change!" Cackling, Dennis made his escape.

New York

Shebang

Coming in off the chilly waters of New York Harbour, the southerly breeze that whipped across the helipad atop the PRT building was cold enough to make Alice shiver and dig her hands into the pockets of the jacket she was wearing. Beside her, Director Piggot seemed to be either able to ignore the weather or her blood was already running at sub-zero temperatures; Alice wouldn't have wanted to make a guess at which. She seemed human enough so far, but she'd also survived ten years of Brockton Bay, and Ellisburg before that, so she evidently had hidden depths.

Note to self: do not cross her.

Alice's eyes were drawn to the incoming chopper beating southward under the lowering sky. It bore PRT markings, and thus probably contained the 'specialist' Piggot had said was coming down to assist Alice in her testing. The Director had been tight-lipped about the identity of the specialist, indicating that all would be revealed at the right time.

They stayed safely back out of the way as the chopper flared then alighted on the helipad, its landing gear flexing and settling. The engines began to wind down, then the side door slid open. Miss Militia—Alice knew that costume, at least—climbed out first, followed by a white-armoured teen with clocks dotting his costume here and there.

"Director," Miss Militia greeted Piggot, extending her hand to shake. "It's good to see you. How are you settling in here?"

"It somehow manages to be colder than Brockton Bay, but I'm managing." Director Piggot shook her hand, then gestured toward Alice. "This is our newest Ward. Temporary name Badaboom, but she's going with Shebang."

"The bomb Tinker, right?" Miss Militia shook Alice's hand. "I can't help thinking we could work well together." In her free hand, her ever-present weapon morphed into what Alice belatedly recognised as some kind of grenade launcher.

"Oh, uh, yeah, I guess we totally could." Alice tried not to squee too hard internally about Miss Militia saying something nice to her. She was still trying to get her feet under her as a superhero, and that sort of validation was worth more than money or diamonds.

"And this is Clockblocker." The Director gestured toward the boy in white. "You may have heard of him. I assure you, all the stories are true."

"Oh." Several pieces of the jigsaw puzzle clicked together at once. Alice had vaguely heard of Clockblocker; quite apart from the name (only a teenage boy could have come up with it) he could apparently freeze things in time. "Hi. I guess we're going to be seeing if my tech can undo your power effects."

He shook her offered hand. "Hi, Shebang. Not sure why you want to do that, but nothing touches anything I've frozen. Trust me, it's been tried. You haven't seen anything until you've seen a tank cannon fire a shell at a sheet of paper twenty feet away, and totally fail to scratch it."

"Well, that's what you're here to find out." Piggot gestured at the roof entrance to the building. "Let's get out of this breeze before we freeze to the spot."

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Topic: Public Service Announcement

In: Boards ► Brockton Bay ► New Capes ► Atropos

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

Posted On Mar 8th 2011:

Hey to all my wonderful peeps!

You might be wondering why I'm posting in the middle of the day when I totally have not set up any kills in advance. Could it be *gasp!* that I'm offing people without telling anyone ahead of time? What's next? Dogs and cats moving in together? Rebecca Costa-Brown writing a tell-all book about the PRT?

(I'd totally buy a copy).

Nope, it's none of the above. I haven't even killed anyone today, because I just plain haven't had to. I swear, the average IQ in this city has gone up ten points since I started my social renewal project. (Hint: you people are the smart ones).

No, I'm posting to let you know about something which was recently brought to my attention. Well, two things, but they're the result of something I did. Unintended consequences, and all that.

So, you all know how I de-Blasphemized the three Blasphemies. It seems this sent a message to certain people out there (yes, I know who you are) that was misinterpreted as me being willing to just kill any old person with the application of sufficient money toward the Brockton Bay Betterment Committee.

You couldn't be more wrong.

While I am entirely in favor of people donating money in their direction (every dollar is a dollar that will go towards building a better Brockton Bay), I'm not going to jump straight to being a hired killer for the cause. For one thing, it's tacky as fuck. For another, there's a regrettable mindset among the sort of people who have serious money, that if they're signing your paychecks, they own you.

Nobody owns me. Nobody gets to dictate a single damn one of my actions except for me. The final choice regarding who dies at my hands (or gets their kneecaps blown out, or gets their reputation utterly fucked up beyond repair, hint hint) belongs to me. Nobody else.

It's true that I have accepted bounties for kills, and those bounties have gone straight toward the BBBC. Without exception, the ones I killed were either a) a direct threat toward the well-being of Brockton Bay, b) Endbringers, or c) a net negative to society in some extremely well-defined manner.

It's also true that the Blasphemies were outside my usual turf and were not threatening Brockton Bay in any meaningful fashion, but Gesellschaft *has* been trying to spread its influence over here, and they're the ones who were bankrolling the 3 B's to harass Interpol into leaving them alone. Going after law enforcement just for doing their jobs is, in my not so humble opinion, tacky as fuck. So I was happy to help Interpol deal with their problem so they could get back to dealing with Gesellschaft.

What I'm leading up to here is that the money is *not* the point. It never was. Fixing Brockton Bay is the point. The money is a means to an end, and that's all.

Also, I fully intend to keep out of politics, so if heads of state continue to agree to leave *me* alone, I'll leave *them* alone. Okay? Okay. Good.

So, the takeaway from all this? I can't be bought, and I can't be bribed. Putting money toward the BBBC is nice, but if anyone (and I do mean *anyone*) tries to offer a bounty for a kill (even on someone I think absolutely deserves it) and I say no, this does *not* mean I'm holding out for more money. It means if you get pushy, you get your second warning. This, right here, is the first.

Got it? Excellent.

Now for the second issue.

I want to apologize for the way I've been doing a few things recently. (By 'a few things', I mean 'a few of my kills', just to be absolutely clear). Not the fact that I killed them, but the way I went about it.

When I started this gig, I gave people the clear choice to either leave, surrender to law enforcement, or die. It's a nice, fair spread of options. I think I can be excused for not extending it toward the Nine, the Teeth or the Simurgh. They knew what they were getting into when they came to where I was.

Now, the problem that has come up is that in retrospect, I've noticed I kind of skipped the 'leave and don't come back' option when it came to Nilbog, the Machine Army, Pastor, and the Blasphemies. At the time, I figured it was okay to do this because to be brutally honest, none of the above would've stopped what they were doing in good faith.

Just to note: the poor asshole in Flint had no option in the matter, but the people who were holding his remains weren't about to give up what they had, so it came to the same thing; what I did to him was a mercy kill, no more and no less.

However, be that as it may, I *should* have offered it as an option. Some members of the Machine Army were able to push past their built-in prejudices to the point that they fought against the status quo and then surrendered to me; who knows how many would've chosen to leave in good faith if given the opportunity? Likewise, would Pastor or the Blasphemies have chosen to 'leave and never sin again' if I'd given them the chance?

We'll never know now, and that's on me.

So, the TL; DR of all this is I'll be reinstituting the third option. Anyone I hand out an ultimatum to will be given the choice to leave, surrender to the authorities, or die. (Whatever happens to them after they surrender to the authorities is not my problem. Maybe they shouldn't have pulled shit.)

Note that this is the deal I gave the capes in Gary and Gallup: if I give anyone this option and they leave, they're automatically on their second warning. If they deliberately pull any of the same shit further down the road, I *will* know, and I *will* be on their asses over it.

Note also that if anyone wants to cause problems in Brockton Bay, merely showing up with ill intent is one warning. Actually coming into the city? Your second warning. Whatever happens after that is all on you.

(Don't misunderstand me on this: if you violate your second warning, I will do something extreme to you. Ultimatums are for people who haven't yet crossed me.)

However (and I want to make this clear), anyone who comes into the city in good faith is totally welcome. I'm not about to watch each and every citizen like a hawk to make sure you don't break the law: that's way too tedious, and I've got better things to do with my time. Besides, I just finished putting a whole lot of effort into making sure the police and PRT are up to dealing with that sort of thing.

So have fun, live your lives, do your thing. I know I will be.

Toodles!

(Showing page 1 of 173)

►GreatAndTerribleAisha (Verified Head of Atropos Fan Club)

Replied On Mar 8th 2011:

Well, dang.

That's my girl Atropos.

Preach it, sister!

►J0e_Eagl3ton (Verified Robotic American) (Dockworkers Association Member) (Verified Atropos Fan Club Member)

Replied On Mar 8th 2011:

Speaking for self and other Eagl3tons, the probability of pre-Robotic-Americans leaving Eagleton peacefully and not attempting to attack humans was very low. Somewhat higher after the first warning by Atropos, but minimal. As Atropos says, strong prejudice existed, and there would have been attacks against humans, sooner or later. And Eagl3tons would have been destroyed for it.

In truth, surrender enabled us to gain our freedom. Am free, doing good work, not under coercion. Free of prejudice, of biased judgement.

This way is preferable.

►EmmaTheTwiceWarned (Verified Follower of Our Lady in Darkness)

Replied On Mar 8th 2011:

Heed the words of Our Lady in Darkness!

I used to think I was strong. I thought strength came in ignoring the wrongs I did to others. That admitting to my errors would show me as being weak.

I made a terrible error. That one error nearly killed me, and showed I had no strength within me, only lies. And when judgement comes around, lies abandon you, leaving you with nothing.

I am still weak, I know this, yet I am infinitely stronger than those who rely on lies to carry them through.

Our Lady in Darkness is strong, for She knows to discard the untruth before it has a chance to become a lie. She tells truth and She admits Her fault, as minor as it may be, and thus She becomes stronger than before.

Her cold eye passes over us, and moves on, and we are safe beneath Her gaze.

All hail Our Lady in Darkness.

►XxVoid_CowboyxX

Replied On Mar 8th 2011:

Atropos, you know who I am.

As a citizen of Brockton Bay, I'd just like to say, I believe in you.

One hundred and ten percent.

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

Replied On Mar 8th 2011:

Thanks, I appreciate that. All of you.

►BrenO'Lock

Replied On Mar 8th 2011:

I'm really not sure I see the problem.

How is taking out a head of state any different from literally any of the other "bounties" she's taken? Just for example, we have an obviously evil, threatening and transgressive entity in the form of the CUI, and *basically anyone else* (even potentially the U.S. government itself) being a *less* evil entity who might ask her to deal with it in exchange for improvements to her city. And if they think money will override any of her principles, well that's an easy misunderstanding to correct by simply telling them "no".

So what's the problem? Given her willingness to accept bounties against people and organizations who are a net-negative for humanity, this just seems like a very bizarre and random line to draw in the sand from a moral or ethical standpoint.

►Naterice

Replied On Mar 8th 2011:

The two big problems would probably be

1) toppling a government. Yes it is an evil government and just about anything else would be better, but it is still a recognized government and knocking one of those over is an escalation that I'm guessing Atropos rightly doesn't want to move to as it would cause a lot of headaches, and unlike a lot of the other idiots, the CUI isn't trying to poke the Atropos bear (as this reliably gets people kneecapped, or worse).

2) anyone who pulled this off would use the fact that they got Atropos to knock over a government as a big stick to wave around in politics. Do what we want or maybe Atropos will show up, and that is effectively diluting the Atropos brand which is also a line not crossable for those wanting to retain their kneecap privileges.

Remember that unlike the CUI, the quarantine zones and the blasphemies were basically hostis humani generis and as such from a legal point of view, Atropos was simply doing her public duty by taking them off the board, the cash just sped the process up.

►Noimead

Replied On Mar 8th 2011:

Bren, I don't think you're getting it.

Atropos has specifically stated that she doesn't want to be seen as a killer for hire. She doesn't want any politicians to think that she's a tool they can use to off the competition. She doesn't want to get involved, doesn't want to get used and doesn't want to be bought. Because she's totally right about the way people who buy your services often believe that they bought *you*. That they own you just because they are writing your paycheck.

It's easy to say "just tell them no" but when they get pushy, that's when things (to use her phrasing) get tedious.

From what I can tell, she simply doesn't want the hassle, she doesn't care about politics and she especially doesn't want to be used as a bludgeon to silence people.

If she allows others to hire her in that way, then it'll change the public perception of her. It would change her brand.

(Please correct me if I'm wrong in any way, Atropos).

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

Replied On Mar 8th 2011:

No, you're totally right, and so is Naterice.

On top of all that, accepting any kind of bounty that changes the international political landscape is a bell that can't be unrung, which is another reason why I'm absolutely not going there.

Let's put it this way.

Right now, like I said, I've basically got an unspoken agreement with every head of state in the world. They don't mess with me, and I don't go after them. As there's only one government that's likely to have any real impact on the welfare of Brockton Bay, and we know where we stand with each other, this works for me.

But say I accepted a hypothetical bounty tomorrow on the Grand Emperor of the (fictional) nation of Wherethehellarewe, for being an asshole tyrant who kicks puppies and forces his citizens to watch his holiday home videos all year 'round. Per my opening post, I'd give him 24 hours to either abdicate, turn himself over to the international courts for his many (many) human rights abuses, or ... well, die.

But no matter which of those three things ends up happening, every nation in the world with even the slightest history of shady business (ie, every nation) would then be aware that *they could be next*.

Every nation has its haters, and some of those haters have really deep pockets. The bidding war would be *intense*.

That unspoken agreement would be gone in an instant, and my back would have a huge target on it. Not just from people who think I'm coming after them, but from anyone I turn down. See above about people who think having enough money means that nobody ever says no to them.

Cue a bunch of trigger-happy (and butthurt) idiots who think that by unleashing enough WMDs they can collectively take me out before I take *them* out, and that's when I go brakes-off all the way.

That's how you get World War Atropos.

And I seriously don't want to have to go there.

So no, I'm not going to do politics.

Got that? Good.

Toodles!

End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ... 171, 172, 173

Shebang's Laboratory

Clockblocker

The rubber ball came out of freeze and fell to the desk, bouncing twice before Shebang caught it. She handed it back to Dennis. "Okay, put it up there again."

"Look, I'm sorry," he said, taking the ball. "I've never been able to set the time. Or even know how long something was going to stay frozen. It's totally random."

"No, I get that." She hefted the scanner she'd apparently constructed while waiting for Dennis to make it down from Brockton Bay. "I'm getting some good solid readings, but I just need it to stay in one place long enough."

"Okay, then. Here we go." He held up the ball at a little below eye level, froze it, and let go. "Maybe it'll go for more than thirty seconds this time."

"We can only hope." She started running the scanner all over the time-locked rubber toy yet again.

Dennis got glimpses of the readouts, but the wavy blue and green lines meant no more to him than the outputs from Kid Win's gear, so that was no surprise. The expression on her face under the goggles she was wearing seemed to indicate satisfaction, so he hoped this wouldn't take too much longer. Not that he minded the afternoon off, but simply freezing the same ball in place over and over was getting to be even more boring than console duty.

This time, the ball decided to stay frozen for longer than it had before. Shebang went all the way around the desk, gesturing him out of the way, so she could get readings from literally every possible angle. "Yes," she muttered. "Yes. Perfect. Solid waveforms. This is some seriously good shit."

The door opened and Legend entered the lab. "Hi. Don't let me interrupt you."

"Ah, no, no, it's good." Dennis stepped away from the desk. "I'm just marking time 'til it unfreezes. Shebang's the one who's getting something out of this." He wasn't even sure he was saying anything coherent; to his best recollection, this was the first time he'd ever been face to face with the head of the Protectorate. And he was damn sure they'd never actually had a conversation before.

"Well, thanks for stepping up." Legend offered him the sort of genuine smile that disarmed hard-bitten reporters and ended up on the front page of magazines. "This is more Shebang's end of things than mine, but if Director Piggot's putting her stamp of approval on it, I'm definitely interested in seeing where it goes."

The ball came out of freeze and fell to the desk, accompanied by a ping from the scanner and a "Hah!" from Shebang. "Got you!" the Tinker crowed. "The data is in the house!"

Legend raised an eyebrow. "That sounded promising."

Leaving the ball resting on the desk, Shebang marched across the lab and leaned over the kludgiest conglomeration of electronics Dennis had ever seen, and that included Leet's and Squealer's tech. "Okay, if I'm right …" she muttered, and tried to plug a data card from the scanner into the other device.

Of course, it refused to go smoothly into the slot she'd designated for it, and Dennis winced as she bashed it with the heel of her hand. The very last thing he wanted was for the whole exercise to be in vain because the Tinker broke her own gear. But on the second time around, she twisted it slightly and it slid easily into place.

Flicking a switch on the contraption—Dennis wasn't sure if it resembled a half-deflated basketball or a thoroughly mangled colander more—Shebang positively cooed over it as LEDs rippled to life, tiny beeps and buzzes making it sound almost alive.

Once it had woken up all the way, and no smoke or sparks were coming off it, Shebang picked it up and turned toward the desk. "Okay," she said happily. "Freeze that puppy one more time, then stand back over the line. I'm not one hundred percent on what this will do to living tissue."

"Sentences you never want to hear from your teammates," Dennis muttered, but he went over and grabbed the ball one more time. Holding it in the air, he froze it and let it go, then hastily retreated past the circle that had been marked out around the desk with tape, to stand beside Legend.

"Here we go!" Shebang placed the hemispherical device on the desk, and Dennis shuffled backward a foot or so. His internal countdown was on twenty seconds when she pressed a button, resulting in a rising series of beeps. She backed away as well, making sure her goggles were secure.

"Is it really going to—" Dennis began, but was cut off when the device let out a not quite deafening bweeee sound. Indigo light flashed across the lab.

And the ball fell to the desk, five seconds early. Beside it, the hemispherical device began to emit smoke from half a dozen places.

Shebang fist-pumped triumphantly. "Fuckin' eureka."

End of Part Eighty