A Darker Path Pt 41 (Patreon)

Taking Care of Business

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

Relevant Side Story: Severance, Longing

Relevant Side Story: Caught Red-Handed 1

Relevant Side Story: Caught Red-Handed 2

Relevant Side Story: Caught Red-Handed 3

Relevant Side Story: Caught Red-Handed 4

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

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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.

Part 42