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Security! (a Worm SI fic)

Security is an idiot... "Aisha has the potential to trigger with a Powerful Stranger ability to erase everyone's Memory of her in real time. It's on by default." This is something you can say OVER THE PHONE. Man, that was so stupid of him. That the one they're looking for has a chance to get a Stranger Power is the first thing you tell them! Then you can start showing off how smart your character is: "Deduce likely positions she could be and shout at her to try and turn her power off. Don't be there alone and constantly remind each other what you're trying to do. Try to use your phones to take pictures of places she's likely to be. Kid Win, can you get some equipment to them? Now tell me about all clues as to her whereabouts, can't Bitch's dogs find her trail? Remember taking pictures of any place the dogs lead her to."
 
Yeah, see, he didn't think it through. Also, I don't own a phone with a camera on it, so I don't think of that, so he doesn't.

So yeah, he's not a genius, and he could have done it smarter.

But he didn't, so hey. the protagonist isn't perfect. What a surprise.

EDIT: Of course, it's kind of lucky that he did come along, because he brought Amy with him.
 
It's perfectly Okay for him to behave stupidly, but you should have someone point that out. Because here it kinda seemed like he wanted to be there personally to announce the stranger power and have people marvel at his knowledge. His only advantage except Amy is that he knew about it and it's information he really should have passed on immediately. Aisha could have died while they fetched him. Tattletale... Wait! Tattletale isn't all that smart either. Taylor would have noticed at once, of course, but absent Taylor BITCH should have called him on it. He could easily defend himself with "Sorry, but I did hit my head in that car crash..." Other people who are smarter than him should be Piggot and Armsmaster, both of whom weren't there...
 
theonebutcher said:
It's perfectly Okay for him to behave stupidly, but you should have someone point that out. Because here it kinda seemed like he wanted to be there personally to announce the stranger power and have people marvel at his knowledge. His only advantage except Amy is that he knew about it and it's information he really should have passed on immediately. Aisha could have died while they fetched him. Tattletale... Wait! Tattletale isn't all that smart either. Taylor would have noticed at once, of course, but absent Taylor BITCH should have called him on it. He could easily defend himself with "Sorry, but I did hit my head in that car crash..." Other people who are smarter than him should be Piggot and Armsmaster, both of whom weren't there...
Click to expand...
Click to shrink...
Nor was Bitch. She was out and about with Alec.
 
Oh, OK then. Brian was probably too emotionally high and Amy too Hero-worship.
 
theonebutcher said:
Oh, OK then. Brian was probably too emotionally high and Amy too Hero-worship.
Click to expand...
Click to shrink...
Also, he had no real reason to suspect that she had triggered until the revelation about the pool of blood, and emotions were running pretty high by then. (Hell, I kinda didn't buy her triggering when she did, so it'd be unrealistic to expect Mike to predict it based on what little he knew.)

He wouldn't have revealed it before he knew for sure there was a good chance she'd already triggered because he has a policy of not releasing information until he needs to for some purpose. It's usually a pretty good policy.
 
Security!

Chapter Forty-One: Winding Down


Before we left the Wards' area, Theo put on one of the domino masks that they kept in quantity, for use if the door alarm went unexpectedly. Despite the fact that I had a visitor's pass, and he was a Ward – albeit, one who had yet to figure out a name, a theme or a costume – we still had to call a PRT soldier to escort us to the secure holding cells. In the process, we had to go up in one lift, down a corridor, through a secure checkpoint, and down in another lift.

"Lost yet?" I asked Theo with a grin, as we got out of the lift.

"Almost," he admitted. "You've been down here before?"

"Once or twice," I confirmed. "Which reminds me." I turned to the guard who was escorting us. "Okay to take a detour?"

"Where to, sir?" he asked.

"Lung's cell," I replied. "I want to have a bit of a chat with him."

"I'm not certain that you're cleared for that, sir," he objected.

"Call and ask," I invited him. "But just so you know, I helped put him there."

"That does not automatically clear you to visit him, sir, but I will check now," the guard told me. He turned away; I heard murmuring through his faceplate, although I couldn't make out the words.

Theo turned to me. "You helped capture Lung?" he whispered, looking rather impressed.

I shrugged. "Weaver did the capturing. I did the running away. Though it did get fairly fraught." I pressed at the side of my stab vest. "Push here."

Tentatively, he pushed in at the vest, and frowned when it gave. "Is that supposed to happen?"

"That's a stab vest," I explained. "Lung hit me, and smashed the plates on that side. I haven't had a chance to replace it yet. Or figured out a way to explain it to the company without telling them that I went up against a supervillain. It might invalidate my life insurance or something."

Theo looked a little green; he was saved from having to answer by the guard.

"Sir, I've been told that you are authorised to visit Lung. Come this way."

=///=​

Taylor and Amy got out of the car, and entered the gates of Arcadia. Amy checked her watch. "Lunch will be over in ten minutes," she noted. "Our timing is good."

"Great," Taylor pretended to complain. "We save the day, then we have to go back to class."

Amy put an arm around her shoulders and squeezed. "You were awesome. You really were."

Taylor slid her own arm around Amy's waist, and returned the pressure. "Says the girl who built a bug that talks."

"You said it looks funny. Mike said other bugs would laugh at it," Amy protested, albeit with a wide grin on her face.

"All of this is true," Taylor admitted. "But it's still very, very cool." She let go of Amy and turned to share a fist-bump with her. "See you after school?"

"Definitely," Amy assured her. "See you then." She hurried off; several bugs went with her.

Taylor found that she couldn't stop smiling as she went to get a drink of water before the bell rang. Deep in the back of her mind, when the day started, had been the tiny doubt that she could only succeed with Mike helping her. But she had proven otherwise, in no uncertain terms, and Mike had been altogether unsurprised at how well she and Amy had done. Proud and pleased, but unsurprised. He'd had confidence in her, in the two of them. It was a heady feeling.

=///=​

Lung looked up as I stepped out of the airlock into the outer section of the cell. I'd told Theo to wait outside; he could, of course, observe the conversation on the cell monitors. I also knew that the conversation would be recorded, which was my intent.

"You have returned," the villain observed, in his accented English.

"I have indeed," I replied lightly. "Have you been thinking about what I said, last time I visited?"

A frown settled on his face; he took a moment to answer. "I have. I am not yet sure that it is the right course for me."

"That's fair," I acknowledged. "But, just so you know, Bakuda has shown interest in working for the cause. Making really big bombs, of course, is what she actually wants to do, and we're going to give her the chance."

He grimaced, then. "I am not surprised. She will do what she will do."

"This is true," I agreed. "But also just so you know? Oni Lee took the Mayor's family hostage today, to try to get you freed."

He stared at me, his eyes slitted. "And yet, I am still in this cell."

"You are," I agreed. "And he's in another one. They took him down without losing a single hostage. So the ABB's entirely without parahuman leadership, right now."

"So you came to gloat, after all." His voice was almost unnaturally calm; I could almost hear the rage bubbling under the surface.

"Nope," I told him. "There was a gang war this morning. The Merchants and the Empire against the ABB. Once I had a word with Kaiser, he backed off, and the Merchants were taken down pretty hard after that. So basically all the gangs are on the back foot, right now."

Lung snorted. "You 'had a word' with Kaiser. I do not believe that."

"Believe it or not," I replied with a shrug. "It happened. The Merchants and the ABB are basically finished, and the Empire's trying to figure out what happens next. Brockton Bay is changing, Lung. The world is changing. Are you going to get on top, or get trodden under? Your choice."

I could almost see the flames flickering in his eyes as he regarded me. This had to be galling him on a very deep level; to have terms dictated to him by someone that he regarded as weaker, unfit to lead.

Well, I couldn't help that.

"And if I do not choose your way?" he growled.

"Then the PRT gets their wish, and you go to the Birdcage," I replied. "Bakuda keeps working for us, of course."

His expression became somewhat more tense. "You would dispose of me, but keep her to work for you?" he spat.

I waited for a moment, until I had his full attention. "It's all about who's willing to work with us, and for us," I reminded him. "If you can't see that, then we can't use you. If you're willing to put your pride aside, then you stay out of the Birdcage, and when the time comes, we'll call on you to step up and fight."

"And that is it?" he growled. "Just fight?"

"According to orders," I amended. "Orders will be given. Orders you will be expected to follow. But when it comes time to fight, we will expect you to fight like only you can fight."

"Orders." The tone of his voice told me what he thought of being ordered to do anything.

I shrugged, lightly. "Orders."

"And who will be giving these orders?" he retorted. "You, for whom knowledge is such power?"

I was impressed; I hadn't known he was capable of such sarcasm. "No," I admitted. "Strategies and tactics will be worked out. Orders regarding them will be passed on by people who can do it better than me. Far better than me. I'm just the big picture guy. The really big picture guy."

His eyes narrowed. "And is recruiting me part of your 'big picture'?"

"Basically, yes," I agreed. "I'd be stupid not to try to get you on side."

That got him; I saw him blink. "I will think on this," he growled.

"Don't take too much more time," I advised him. "Gonna have to make a decision sooner or later. Or it'll be made for you."

He didn't answer; I hit the button beside the airlock. The inner door hissed open, and I stepped inside.

=///=​

"Dad!"

David Laborn was not a man who hugged people, not even his children. But when he saw his daughter, he opened his arms, and she allowed him to embrace her, however briefly.

"Got your text," he told his son gruffly. "Thanks."

Brian nodded, leaning on the doorframe. "Aisha told me there were only eight of them," he teased his father. "What happened to your arm? Losing a step, old man?"

David saw the half-grin, and knew that his son was gently pulling his leg; eight on one odds were not to be sneezed at, even with those ABB shitheels. Ignoring the bandage on his arm, he shaped up to his son, feinting a jab or two.

"You want to see who's losing a step?" he challenged. "Put on the gloves, let's go a couple of rounds."

Brian grinned more widely, shaking his head. "No thanks," he demurred. "I think I'll pass today. Just thought I'd bring the troublemaker back around."

Aisha didn't respond to that, verbally at least. But she gave him the finger behind her back.

David cuffed her upside the head, but lightly. "Hey now. The boy got his friends together to go find you," he chided her. "Show a little respect, all right?"

Brian blinked. "What?"

His father frowned. "What do you mean, what?"

"What was that about respect?"

David shrugged. "Was I talking about respect? I must've been talking about how young folks these days don't respect their elders."

"Yeah, yeah, heard it before. Anyway, Dad, I gotta roll. See you around."

The older man nodded. "Sure. And thanks."

Brian looked over his shoulder. "For what?"

David looked slightly puzzled. "Not sure. Just felt it was something I should say."

"Well, whatever it was for, you're welcome." Brian frowned, shrugged, and closed the door.

The sofa springs creaked as David lowered himself on to the cushions. He sighed, lifted his feet on to the stool, and picked up the remote.

The TV flared to life once more; in the kitchen, the fridge door opened and then closed, unheard and unseen by its owner.

As she slathered butter on a piece of bread, Aisha Laborn grinned. These powers rock.

=///=​

As we traversed the corridor toward Riley's cell, Theo turned to me. "Mr Allen?"

"Call me Mike, Theo. What's on your mind?"

"Tay – I mean, Weaver says you know a whole lot of stuff. Kayden said you knew that I'd triggered, by what I did with that house. So you know stuff about me, right?"

"I know some stuff," I agreed. "Not everything, but some. Why?"

"If you knew what powers I was gonna get, do you know what name I should take?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Surely that's something you need to work out for yourself."

"Yeah," he conceded with a half-hearted shrug. "But … I'm open to suggestions?"

I sighed. "'Should' is a really big word. Kaiser thought you 'should' grow up hating everyone who's different to you. Endbringers 'should' never have started attacking people." I met his eyes. "You've had people telling you what you 'should' do for the last fifteen years. So I'm not going to. But … "

"But?"

I smiled slightly. "If you want to divorce your heroic identity thoroughly from your father's gang, I would suggest researching the Nazi movement. Look through the mythologies of those religions and peoples they hated most, and see if you can't find anything to do with shaping something out of unliving material."

"I, uh -" He looked a little daunted. "That sounds like a lot of work."

"Do you want a name that's all your own?"

Slowly, he nodded. "Yeah. I do."

"Then that's how you do it. Hard work. Otherwise, if you let someone else pick the name for you, you'll maybe wonder someday if you couldn't have made a better choice."

He looked at me suspiciously. "I bet you know what name I'm going to pick anyway."

I tried to look innocent; I doubted that he was fooled, even for an instant. "I know what name you might pick."

"So tell me!"

I shook my head. "You might pick that name. Or you might surprise me, and pick another one that fits just as well. The final decision is yours. I am not going to make it for you."

"What if I pick a stupid name?"

I nodded, conceding the possibility. "I'm willing to bet that someone on the team will let you know if it sounds stupid."

"I bet they would, too." He nodded toward the door where the guard was waiting patiently for us. "Who's through there?"

"Let's go see." I led the way.

=///=​

"Ames, wait up."

Amy turned at her sister's voice. "Hey, Vicky. I heard you did good at the Mayor's house."

Vicky grinned. "Yeah. I love doing that sort of thing. Though it was a lot easier than it might have been, with Weaver and Canary on point."

Something about Vicky's tone caught Amy's ear. "Still don't trust her?"

Vicky grimaced. "She might just have been what let us get the jump on those guys today – but she did it by messing with their heads, using a kids' song. What if what she did is permanent? What if they never get over what she did to them?"

"You don't like the idea that a bunch of criminals might be less violent in future?" asked Amy carefully.

"I don't like it that they had their brains overridden by the same girl who was going to the Birdcage for making her boyfriend cut off his … ugh."

Amy sighed. "I know Mike told you what happened with Paige's boyfriend. So you can't really blame her for that."

Vicky glanced around; instinctively, so did Amy. No-one seemed to be eavesdropping. "Ames … can I tell you a secret?"

Amy smiled uncertainly. "I thought I knew all your secrets by now."

"Never told anyone this one," Vicky told her. "Not even Mom."

Amy's eyes widened slightly. "Wow, okay." She took a deep breath. "I'm listening."

Vicky crossed her arms. "I'm scared of mind control. Scared of being made to do something, feel something, against my will. I'm strong, tough, sure. But if someone ever got inside my head, changed the way I think or feel about something, none of my powers would be able to do jack about it. And the idea of that fucking terrifies me."

Amy stared at her sister. "I never knew that."

Vicky shrugged, hunching her shoulders a little. "It's why I like to hit people first and hardest. Just in case."

"Hey, come here." Amy opened her arms, wrapping them around Victoria.

The blonde relaxed into the hug, laying her head on Amy's shoulder. "You'll be late for class."

Amy made a rude noise. "Screw class. You're my sister."

Vicky grinned and hugged Amy back. "Thanks, sis."

"Any time."

=///=​

Riley looked around as the airlock door opened. Her face lit up like a sunrise, and she jumped to her feet. "Mike!"

"Riley, how you doing?" I stepped forward to allow Theo to come through. "Riley, this is Theo; Theo, meet Riley."

"Uh, hi," mumbled Theo.

"Hi, Theo!" Riley frowned slightly. "You're not one of the Wards … are you?"

"He is now," I told her, then nodded at the game pieces scattered on the floor. "So what are you doing there?"

"Oh, trying to play a two player game by myself," she confessed. "I got bored, and you usually don't get here for hours … oh wow, you're early!" Her face brightened, then fell. "Does this mean you'll be leaving early, too?"

"Not if I don't have to," I assured her. "I'll probably be needing a lift, so I'll be putting that off as long as possible." I stepped forward and watched the bars and perspex wall slide apart, to allow Theo and myself entry. "So yeah, decided to come on down and play some board games. You been taking good care of them?"

"Sure," she told me. "I've got everything stacked up nice and neat." Dropping to her knees, she began putting the pieces back into the box.

Theo, apart from a glance over his shoulder as the perspex and bars slid together once more, seemed more curious about the contents of the cell. He eyed the folding table, with the magazines and the game boxes on it, as well as the chair. Apart from the cushioned concrete bench, they were the only furnishings in the cell.

"You've, uh, got a few games here," he commented diffidently.

"Oh yeah, Mike brought them in," Riley informed him cheerfully. "They're a lot of fun to play. Are you going to be playing too?"

"Oh, uh, sure," Theo agreed. "If you don't mind … ?"

"Of course I don't mind, silly!" She beamed at him. "Can we play the racing car game first, Mike?"

I sat down on the bench and scooted the table closer to me. "Sounds like a plan, kiddo."

Theo sat down so that he had access to the table as well. He seemed distracted, as though he was working something out. "Uh, Mike?"

"Yeah?"

"Uh, you said we'd be playing board games with a notorious supervillain. Is this … " He trailed off, apparently noticing my dawning look of horror.

Silence fell in the cell. Riley shot me a betrayed look.

I put my hand to my forehead. "Oh shit. Sorry, Riley. It sounded funny at the time."

Her lower lip trembled. "I … do you think that I'm still a supervillain, Mike? Do you think that I'm still Bo-"

"No," I snapped, then moderated my tone. "No, I don't think that. I don't think that at all."

She stared at me, eyes huge and shiny with unshed tears. "I thought you were my friend, Mike. I thought you liked me. Trusted me."

I stood up from the bench, moved over to Riley, and knelt beside her, to bring my face down to her level. "I do like you, Riley," I assured her again. "I do trust you. How could I not? You saved my life. Yes, I made a stupid joke, and I apologise for doing it. I was wrong."

"You mean that?" Her voice was tremulous, on the edge of tears.

"I mean it," I told her. "I'll never make that joke again, I promise. I'm sorry."

Her arms went around my neck, and I hugged her carefully. I felt her eyes leaking tears where her face was pressed into my shoulder. When she spoke, her voice was muffled. "No-one ever says sorry to me."

Gently, I patted her on the back. "Well, I do," I declared. "When I screw up, I'm the one who says sorry. Not someone else."

She sniffled into my shoulder; I reflected that I would be lucky to get the shirt back intact, after Riley's body fluids had gotten on to it. But that wasn't something I was worried about, right then. I had abused her trust, however mildly, and it was up to me to make it right.

When she let go of me, I loaned her my handkerchief to blow her nose on, and then we sat down again. "Introductions," I stated firmly. "Both of you know me. Riley, this is Theo. Son of Kaiser."

Riley's eyes widened slightly at this. "Wow, really?" she asked.

"Trust me," I told her dryly, "he's nothing like his father. Theo, this is Riley. She used to be the supervillain known as Bonesaw, but she's not that person any more." I looked at them both meaningfully, then showed Theo the scar on the side of my neck. "I know that because she and Dragon removed a Bakuda bomb from just under the base of my skull. Without the munchkin, I wouldn't be here today."

"Wow, holy crap," Theo blurted. I winced, waiting for some ill-advised comment, but he went on, "you got to work with Dragon? How cool was that?"

Riley smiled; the expression was a little damp, but it was a genuine smile. "Pretty damn cool, actually. She's really, really switched-on."

I tried, and failed, to hide a snort. Both children looked at me. "Uh, something funny just occurred to me," I told them, and indeed it had. "So, we gonna play a game?"

Riley grinned and began to set the board up. "I am gonna so wipe the board with you two," she declared.

I shot a sideways grin at Theo; thus encouraged, he gave her a challenging look. "Bring it."

=///=​

"Hey, Amy. A little help?"

"What? … oh." Amy looked down at the two bugs that had crawled out of her book bag. They were eminently familiar to her, one being a vox-bug and the other a spy-bug. Scooping them up, she held them in her cupped hand, so as to conceal them from passers-by. "Taylor? What's up?"

The vox-bug made a very realistic imitation of a throat-clearing noise. "I, uh, sort of got lost. I'm supposed to get to the Physics lab, and I'm fairly certain it's not where I am."

"Well, where are you?" asked Amy pragmatically.

"Um, north side, east wing. Third floor."

"Oh, no wonder. You need the west wing, second floor. About halfway along."

"Ah, right." The bug even managed to sound embarrassed. "Thanks a bunch."

"You're welcome. See you later." Amy smiled as she carefully tucked the bugs back into her bag.

"Who are you talking to?" Vicky's voice came from right behind her; Amy jumped, just a little.

She turned and glared at her sister. "Jeez, frighten me half to death, why don't you?"

Vicky chuckled. "Serves you right for not paying attention. Were you talking to someone, or just thinking out loud? Because you know how much trouble we'll get in if we get caught using our phones to call people." As opposed to receiving emergency calls, she meant.

Amy shook her head. "I was talking to Weaver. Via bugs."

"Dean told me a bit about those bugs you and Weaver have been using," Vicky noted. "Pretty damn impressive, was the phrase he used."

Amy smiled. "I just make 'em. She uses them like she was born to it." She eyed Vicky dubiously. "Speaking of Dean, why are you here instead of with him?"

Vicky rolled her eyes. "I needed to speak to you," she confided. "I meant to last period, but we got sidetracked."

"About Weaver, right?" asked Amy, with an absolute certainty in her gut.

"About Weaver and you, yeah," her sister confirmed. "I need to know what's going on between you two."

Amy frowned. "What do you mean, what's going on? Nothing's going on between me and Weaver. We're friends."

"You've moved out of home," Vicky pointed out. "You're taking therapy. You've stopped healing people. You're getting around with the Wards, with Weaver, instead of with New Wave, where you're supposed to be. What's going on?"

Amy heaved a sigh. "I've got problems. I didn't know I had problems, or at least how bad they were, until that day at the bank. You know the one."

"The robbery, right?' asked Vicky. "Where you were talking to that Security guy."

"Where he walked into the bank and walked me out, just before it happened," Amy corrected her. "After that, he told me about my problems, in more detail than I had known about, and arranged to help me with them. Part of it was getting therapy with Mrs Yamada, part of it was moving out, and part of it was putting a hold on my healing."

"Wait, wait, wait," Vicky told her, holding up both hands. "This guy's cropping up an awful lot these days. He was at the PRT building before we took down Coil, he got Canary out of going to the Birdcage, and now he's giving you lifestyle advice? Who the fuck is this guy?"

Amy bit her lip. "I … I can't tell you that." She wanted to tell Vicky what she knew, wanted to share it with her. But she didn't know what the consequences of that act would be.

Vicky stared at her. "Can't, or won't?"

"I'm sorry, Vicky." Amy shook her head. "All I can tell you is that what he told me is one hundred percent accurate, and that what he's got me doing is helping me. A lot."

"We've always told each other everything," Vicky pointed out. "Can't you help me understand just a bit?"

Amy took a deep breath. "There were really bad things that were going to happen. Some of those bad things were going to happen to me, and some of them to you. Mike is making sure that they don't happen at all." She put her hands on Vicky's shoulders. "I'm sorry, but I really can't tell you any more."

Reaching up, Vicky took Amy's hands in hers, and squeezed them gently. "Okay, but I'm gonna want more details at some point. And if you ever need me for anything, just call. You know that."

Amy mustered a smile. "Of course. You're my sister."

"Damn right I am." Vicky hugged Amy closely; the biokinetic rested her head on her sister's shoulder for a moment. "Now hurry up, you need to get to class."

"Okay. Talk to you later." One last squeeze, and they hurried in different directions.

=///=​

"Booyah!" crowed Riley, holding her hands together above her head in triumph. "And who's the winner? Me. Who's the champion? That's me too!"

I shook my head, grinning. "I have to admit, I have never seen anyone win so thoroughly before. Mind you, you had about one point left on your tyres and your engine. You really overclocked your car to come in first, didn't you?"

Riley grinned back. "And that's how you win. Slowpoke."

Theo rolled his eyes. "That, and driving me off the track, back on the turn before last."

Riley stuck out her tongue at him. "I didn't drive you off the track. I sort of got in your way, so you had to go around me. It wasn't my fault that you crashed because of that."

I snorted. "Seems to me that you enjoyed smashing us in this game altogether too much."

Riley cupped her hand behind her ear. "What's that I hear? An old man complaining about being too slow?"

Theo was chuckling now, and I had to smile as well. "Want to watch the trash talk, kiddo, or we might just pick a game where I can beat the pants off of you." I tapped one of the board games. "Like this one."

Riley rolled her eyes. "Just because you know more words than I do," she pretended to complain; the words were one thing, but the grin on her face and her cheerful tone was quite another.

I scratched my chin, thinking. "Okay, how about this. You two team up. Both of you against me. You can trade letters and everything. Either of you wins, both of you win."

Riley looked from me to Theo and back again. "What, you mean it?" Her expression was positively gleeful.

"Sure I mean it," I confirmed. "It should be fun. Theo?"

Theo hesitated. "Uh, if it's okay with you, Riley? I don't want to hold you back or anything."

Riley made a rude noise. "Yeah, like that's gonna happen. You're older than me. And you're pretty smart, I can tell. Let's own this game."

I finished packing away the racing game and put it on the bench; as we started setting up the next game, I grinned to myself. The point of playing these games with Riley wasn't to win. It was for everyone to have fun. And even Theo was starting to come out of his shell on occasion.

Positive social interaction, I mused, could be found in the oddest places.

=///=​

Amy spotted the bugs circling her before she saw Taylor. She smiled and moved toward her friend; they bumped fists in greeting.

"So how did you enjoy your first day?" she asked as they headed for the gates.

"Different," allowed Taylor. "New. Interesting. No-one knows me, but most everyone's friendly. It feels weird."

Amy nodded sympathetically. "With all the shit that happened to you at Winslow, I'm not surprised that you're feeling a bit off-balance here. You're used to bad things happening."

Taylor shrugged helplessly. "Yeah, exactly. I mean, shit, I've made friends here. On my first day, even. It's like Bizarro world." She spotted someone in the crowd. "Oh, hey, wait a second."

Amy blinked as Taylor darted off, then reappeared, more or less dragging someone along. "Amy, this is Chris. I met him in home room this morning. Chris, have you met Amy?"

Panacea came face to face with Kid Win, and they both had to do their best not to burst out laughing.

Amy cleared her throat. "Uh, yeah, I've met Chris a few times. How you doing?"

"Oh, so-so," Chris replied, working to keep a smile from taking over his face. "So you know Taylor, do you, Amy?"

"Yeah, we're pretty good friends," Amy confirmed. "She and her dad are putting me up for a while."

"That's nice of you," Chris told Taylor. "Well, I gotta bounce. See you girls on the flip side."

He moved off, and Taylor looked at Amy. "See?" she asked. "We were sitting next to each other in home room, and he just said hi. That doesn't really happen to me."

Amy shrugged. "He seems like a nice guy," she agreed. "Maybe you should ask him out sometime?"

Taylor shook her head. "No, I don't think so."

"What? Why?" Amy frowned. "Is there something wrong with him?"

"Three reasons," Taylor pointed out, keeping her voice low. "One, he probably already has a girlfriend. Two, I'm a cape and he's not. Things would get way too complicated. Three, I'm not really looking for a boyfriend, you know?"

Amy sighed. "I suppose." She grabbed Taylor's arm and hugged it against her side. "Well, I'm still happy that you're making new friends."

I hope I'm there when Chris unmasks to her, she told herself. I so want a picture of her face.

"Me too," Taylor agreed; Amy was a little confused, until she realised that Taylor was responding to her comment, rather than her thought.

"Oh hey, there's Dad," commented Taylor. "Let's go see what he wants."

"Sure, okay," Amy agreed, and they headed that way.

=///=​

Danny Hebert leaned against the car and scanned the mass of students crowding out through the gates. He became aware of a large bug, of a type he thought he recognised from Amy's experiments in the basement, hovering in front of his face. It zoomed off again, and then just a moment later, he spotted Taylor pushing her way through the crowd.

"Dad, how are you?" Taylor greeted him, going for a hug. He squeezed her back, holding her close for a moment.

"I'm doing good, kiddo," he told her. "Amy, how are you?"

The frizzy-haired girl, his daughter's best friend, smiled back at him. "I'm doing really well, Mr Hebert, uh, Danny."

"Excellent," he declared. "Well, with that gang war thing this morning, everything's all up in the air, so there's no work getting done at the Dockworkers' Association. So I've decided to take the afternoon off, and give you girls a lift to where you need to be. Amy, you're going to see Mrs Yamada, right?"

Amy nodded. "Yes, please."

"Ames! There you are!" Everyone looked up; a blonde girl was swooping in over the crowd. A moment later, she came in for a neat landing beside Amy.

Danny blinked. " … wow. You don't see that every day." He held out his hand. "Glory Girl, I presume?"

Reflexively, she shook it. "Yes. And you are … ?"

"Oh. Sorry." He shook his head, grinning self-deprecatingly. "Danny Hebert. Have you met my daughter Taylor? No? Well, Mike Allen asked me if we could put your sister up for a while. I'm just here to give them a lift."

"Mike Allen, huh?" repeated the teen superhero. "I keep hearing that name. Where do you know him from?"

"Oh, uh, he was doing security at Winslow, and stopped some girls who were pulling some really nasty pranks on Taylor," Danny explained.

Glory Girl glanced at Taylor for a moment, then back at Danny. " … right," she responded. "Well, okay." She turned to Amy. "I'm going to head home now," she told her sister. "You need anything, just call."

Amy hugged her; Glory Girl returned it. "Of course I will," Amy told her.

Glory Girl nodded, then gave Danny and Taylor another glance. "Nice to have met you."

In another instant, she was airborne, cutting through the sky above Arcadia.

" … well," muttered Danny. "That was just a little intimidating."

Amy smiled reassuringly. "She means well."

Danny nodded. "I see. Well, still want that lift?"

"Yes, please."

=///=​

Riley looked at Theo. "Can I ask you a question?"

The pudgy boy glanced at me; I leaned back slightly, as if distancing myself from the situation. He shrugged slightly. "Uh, sure?"

Riley's hands never paused in their shuffling of the cards for the game we were about to play. Her hands were nimble, dexterous. I wasn't quite sure that she wasn't stacking the deck. "So … what's it like … being Kaiser's son?"

For a long moment, Theo didn't answer. He looked down at the floor, then at the ceiling. Finally, he looked at me. I shrugged slightly, and gestured him toward Riley.

"It's like … being on a train with no brakes," he told her reluctantly. "You've got no choice about what's going on, and you're going places you don't want to be."

He paused, then went on, with more animation. "He … he crushes your will. If you go against him, he comes at you, with perfect logic and perfect assurance, and he beats down your argument and ties you into knots. Over and over again. He's very good at doing that to people. Talking them into doing what he wants, but making them think that it was their idea in the first place." He ran down, staring at the table.

Riley put down the cards, slipped out of her chair, and went around the table to him. Wrapping her arms around him as best she could, she held him close. Theo looked somewhat startled, but he slowly returned the hug.

"Wow," he muttered, after she let him go. "What was that for?"

Resuming her seat, Riley started shuffling the cards again, as though nothing untoward had happened. "You're not alone, Theo," she told him firmly, beginning to deal the cards. "Just remember that. You're not alone. Never alone."

I very carefully hid my smile as I picked up my cards. Thank you, Riley.

=///=​

Danny chose strawberry fudge for himself, and Taylor picked double choc; they took their ice creams over to a bench and sat down facing the ocean, the afternoon sun warm on their backs.

"So, first day in the Wards, and first day at Arcadia, huh?" asked Danny. "A double header."

Taylor took a bite of her ice cream, savouring the taste as she watched the seagulls riding the onshore breeze.

"Yeah," she replied lazily. "Amy's bugs rocked. And I had fun at school too. Made friends."

"Well, that's excellent," he told her. "I didn't see much mention of you on the news, but I saw your bug swarms flying here and there. From the way the news guys were reacting, you really made a big impression on them."

"Amy had a big part in that," Taylor pointed out. "If she hadn't created those relay bugs for me, there would be no way I'd have the coverage on the city that I do." She took another bite of ice cream and sighed, relaxing just that little bit more.

"Plus of course the ketamine wasps and the rest of your menagerie," Danny noted.

"Yeah, those too," Taylor agreed, leaning back with her eyes closed. "Amy's really awesome. She's fun to hang with, and her bugs are pretty cool." She waited a beat, then added, "And I met a nice boy at school, too."

She caught Danny in the middle of taking another bite of his ice cream; he sputtered and choked, and nearly lost the whole ice-cream.

"That was mean," he told her sternly, after regaining his composure.

"Sorry," she replied contritely, although a twinkle in her eye suggested that she wasn't as sorry as she was making out to be.

He eyed her suspiciously, then decided to drop it. "So, a boy, huh? A nice boy, even?"

"Yeah," she agreed. "He's in my home room. His name's Chris."

"Well, I knew that going to Arcadia was going to give you a fresh chance at making friends, but that's pretty damn fast, I have to say," Danny responded, his own eyes twinkling mischievously. "So when do I get to meet him?"

Somewhat to his disappointment, Taylor did not inhale her ice-cream, as he had. She did look a little startled, which he decided to count as a win. "Dad," she protested. "He's not my boyfriend. He's just a friend. We've said hi a few times, is all. And Amy knows him, and thinks he's a nice guy."

"Might want to check with her before you think about asking him out," Danny advised her. "Make sure you're not treading on her territory. Or someone else's."

"Dad!" she repeated, a little more loudly, her cheeks turning pink. "I'm not going to be asking him out. Even if Amy thinks I should."

"I'm joking," he assured her, ruffling her hair. "Not that I'm saying you should, but why have you chosen not to?"

She wrinkled her nose at him. "You're mean," she accused him, somewhat hypocritically. "But have you ever seen a cape sitcom where a date between a cape and a normal went well? Or any kind of a relationship between a cape and a normal?"

"Hm," Danny mused, working on the rest of his ice-cream. "You realise that they play most of that for drama, or laughs. There's got to be situations where capes and normals can have an equitable relationship without the powers getting in the way."

"Yeah, well, maybe," Taylor observed. "But in any case, not really interested in dating. Right now, he's an acquaintance. Friends, I'll be good with. Boyfriend? Not right now."

Danny smiled. "And trust me, kiddo, I'm perfectly okay with that."

They fell silent then, settling back to enjoy their ice-creams and spend time with one another.

=///=​

Jessica Yamada sipped at her tea. "So then you healed her?"

Amy breathed deeply, inhaling the aroma of her own tea. The armchair was comfortable, the lighting turned down enough that there was no glare in the room. On the wall, the clock ticked slowly, steadily.

"I healed her," she confirmed. "It wasn't hard; a simple penetrating trauma, probably from a switchblade. It had missed all the major blood vessels, but she still would have died in another hour or so, if we hadn't gotten to her. Maybe sooner."

"And how do you feel about that?"

"About healing her, or about the fact that I wasn't supposed to be healing anyone, but I still healed her anyway?"

Mrs Yamada's voice was neutral, inviting Amy to express herself. "Whichever one."

Amy took a deep breath. "When we found her, her brother was yelling at me to heal her. It was like I'd never stopped. The pressure was back; heal this one, heal that one, if you don't heal them, you're a bad person. But Mike told him to shut up. Told me that of course they'd like me to heal her. But that it was my choice, and my choice alone. He meant it. So I thought about it, and made my choice."

"Do you regret healing her? Breaking the no-healing rule?"

Amy shook her head. "I don't regret it. She needed healing. I had a look at their first aid kit; it was adequate, but insufficient to deal with the wound that the girl had suffered. They could maybe have kept her alive until she reached a hospital, and even then … I don't know. Her chances would have been less than fifty percent. A lot less, I think. So in that particular case, I did the right thing, rule or no rule."

Mrs Yamada nodded. "I see. Do you foresee any difficulties in sticking to the rule in future?"

"I don't know. I don't think so." Amy took a drink of tea, thought for a moment. "Having this power, it's good. I can do a lot of good in the world. But I also need to be allowed to choose when and where I use it. I used to think that the very fact of having my power obliged me to use it to help people. These last few days have opened my eyes; I've gotten a better perspective on things. I can, but I don't have to."

A smile. "And how does that make you feel?"

Amy returned it. "Good, actually. Free. Like a load's been lifted from my shoulders." She took a deep breath, worked her shoulders as if an actual, physical, burden had been taken from them. "Wow."

"Excellent." Mrs Yamada leaned forward, put her teacup down on the table beside her. "Now, we'll return to this topic from time to time – an issue this strong is not put to bed overnight – but let's talk about something else for the time being."

"Sure," responded Amy. "What do you want to talk about?"

Mrs Yamada smiled gently. "Pick one, and we'll talk about it."

"Um, okay. Is it all right if we talk about Vicky? She seems to be worried about me. I was wondering what I could say to her, so she wasn't worried."

"Why is she worried about you? What are her concerns?"

Amy took a deep breath. "Well, for a start, this whole therapy thing. I've moved out of home, I've stopped going out and healing people, I'm living with my best friend and her dad, I've left New Wave for the time being. All of that … I guess, it's a pretty big step to take."

"I imagine that it would look like that from the outside, yes," Mrs Yamada conceded. "Was it a very great step for you to take, personally?"

"At first, yeah," Amy admitted. "Going away from home? That's a huge wrench. Moving in with a couple of strangers, even as nice as the Heberts? Yeah, it was a pretty big step."

"Last night, you seemed to be getting along well with them," Mrs Yamada noted.

Amy smiled. "Yeah. Taylor and her dad, they're nice people. Good people. They accepted me. Took me in. I run with Taylor, in the mornings. Her dad drives me to therapy, picks me up after." She studied the teacup in her hands. "I hate to say this … "

Mrs Yamada remained silent, waiting. Listening.

Amy tried to think of a way to say it without sounding spiteful. Eventually, she took a deep breath.

"Mark tries to be a father, and fails. Danny succeeds at being a father without even trying. He doesn't have powers, he's not a superhero, but he's a good man."

She was musing now, free-associating. "You know, it's funny. I'm attracted to Vicky, but I prefer to be with Taylor. Maybe it's because Taylor doesn't demand anything from me; she just is." She turned to Mrs Yamada. "It's not like I'm even attracted to Taylor. She's nice, I like her a lot, but the spark isn't there, you know? Does this mean I'm not really gay?"

"I can't answer that," Mrs Yamada told her honestly. "It may be that Taylor's just not your type. On the other hand, it may indeed mean that the forced attraction caused by Glory Girl's aura may have -"

She stopped, because Amy had just sat bolt upright in her chair.

"Oh my god," Amy muttered. "Oh my god. She said it, and I just never realised. She said it, right in front of me."

"Is everything all right?" the therapist enquired after a moment.

Amy nodded. "I just got the biggest flash of 'DUH' I've ever had in my life. Like, a nova-scale flashbulb. It's about Vicky. Holy shit." She took a deep breath. "Vicky said something to me today, about being scared of mind controllers, of being mentally controlled. She basically told me that she was most scared of having her attitudes and perceptions altered, so that she thought differently and never knew it."

Mrs Yamada blinked. "And that's basically what she did to you, without meaning to."

Amy nodded. "Yeah, that's bad enough. But the flashbulb moment also gave me this; what if her powers gave her that ability because she's scared of mind control? So it gives her the ability to screw over other peoples' minds before they can screw hers over?"

"Hmm," the older woman noted. "It's a very intriguing theory. One which, of course, we can't do much about. But which is worth keeping in mind for later, when we bring her into the therapy."

"About that," Amy ventured. "What happens, given this fear of hers, when we tell her that she's basically been doing what she's scared of the most, to me? How is she going to react? How do we break it to her?"

Mrs Yamada nodded. "A very cogent question. I suspect the answer is somewhere between 'not at all' and 'very, very carefully'."

Amy bit her lip. "I don't want to sound like I'm second-guessing you, but …"

" … but do I think that we should tell Mr Allen, and ask his advice?" Mrs Yamada raised an eyebrow at Amy's startled expression. "I had also thought of that. He does seem to possess a supply of esoteric information. If you believe that he can be trusted to not spread the information around … ?"

Amy nodded. "I think so."

"Be aware," the therapist noted, "that he may simply not know. This sort of information would be useful in your therapy; surely he would have passed it on if he knew it?"

"Or he may simply have forgotten," Amy argued. "His memory isn't perfect."

Mrs Yamada nodded, conceding the point. "In any case, his insight may be useful. By all means, we can ask him. Just make sure that he knows not to talk to anyone else about it."

Amy smiled. "I can do that."

=///=​

When I played board games with Riley on her own, we didn't take too much time. We chatted while we made our moves, not letting our conversations slow the game down. Adding Theo to the mix as a third player changed the dynamic; he had to be apprised of the rules of the games we were playing, and the three-cornered conversation sometimes meant that minutes went between turns being taken.

Not that any of us cared; Theo was free until the morning, I didn't have any pressing engagements, and Riley was by definition not going anywhere. So we played games and had fun; just as Riley was good at the dexterity game, Theo proved to have a knack for team play, in the cooperative game.

Still and all, it was something of a surprise when the airlock door opened, and Mrs Yamada stepped through.

=///=​

Jessica Yamada didn't quite know what to expect when she requested access to the prisoner known officially as 'Bonesaw, aka Riley'. The PRT escort was a matter of course, as was the careful search of her personal items. But when she got to the cell, and stepped through the airlock, she was somewhat taken aback to see the girl herself playing a board game with Michael Allen and a masked, teenage boy.

Allen came to his feet first. "Oh, hey, Mrs Yamada," he greeted her, then he frowned. "Weren't you with Amy?"

"I finished that session, Mr Allen," she replied with a smile. "Check the time."

He did so, and looked somewhat startled. "Jesus, it's after five. No wonder I've been getting a bit hungry. Time flies when you're having fun, all right." He paused. "Theo, Riley, meet Mrs Jessica Yamada."

When the perspex opened, along with the bars, he looked even more startled. The boy – Theo – also came to his feet, as did Riley.

"Hello, Riley," she greeted the blonde child. Recalling the file she had read, and Michael's advice, she did not speak down to her, but greeted her as an equal. "I'm Jessica Yamada. Michael's asked me to come in to see you."

"Hello," Riley replied, stepping forward and holding out her hand to be shaken. "It's good to meet you, uh … ?"

"Oh, sorry," Jessica apologised. "You can call me Jessica, or Mrs Yamada, whichever makes you more comfortable."

Riley smiled. "I think I'll go with Mrs Yamada, for the moment. Do you think you can help me?"

"If you're willing to be helped," Jessica told her, "then yes, I can probably help you. But you have to want to be helped. If you don't, then I'd be wasting your time and mine." She fixed the youthful villain with a steady look. "Do you want me to try?"

Riley, to her credit, took her time in thinking over her answer. She glanced at Michael and Theo, who were apparently engrossed in studying the board setup. Then she looked back at Jessica.

"Yes," she told Jessica. "I think I would like that."

They shook hands once more, as solemnly as any two adults closing a deal, and Riley turned to Theo and Michael. "Is that okay?" she anxiously asked the older man.

Michael nodded. "Definitely okay," he assured her. "She's the absolute best therapist I know. If anyone can help you, she can."

"Good," she told him, and impulsively hugged him. "If she's a friend of yours, I can work with her."

"Sure she's my friend," he confirmed. "She's working with Panacea as well."

Riley looked a little surprised in her turn. "But Panacea's a hero."

Michael shrugged massively. "Doesn't mean she doesn't need therapy."

Theo raised his hand tentatively. "I'll probably be needing some myself, at some point," he ventured. "My dad and all, you know."

Jessica frowned. "Your father?"

Theo nodded. "Kaiser."

"Oh." Jessica found herself re-evaluating the boy for signs of racist attitude, and quickly found that there were none to be seen; either he had not absorbed his progenitor's poisonous ideals, or he was exceptionally good at concealing them.

"Yeah," Michael commented dryly. "Theo here's the white sheep of the family." Riley snickered at that, and even Theo raised a weak grin. "I've gotten Director Piggot to agree to fund your therapy for Riley and Theo as well, when you can get the time, and Theo has the inclination."

Jessica raised both her eyebrows at that. "I hope this doesn't put too much of a drain on the PRT's discretionary budget."

"I believe that it's worth it," Michael stated flatly. "The Director understands this."

"Well, then," Jessica noted. "I look forward to working with each of you."

"Cool," Riley exclaimed. "Wanna play a board game with us?"

Jessica was taken somewhat aback. "I, uh, haven't played board games in years … "

Michael grinned, a warm and welcoming expression. "No time like the present. I was going to head off after one more game anyway. This one here's a cooperative game, so we can ease you into it … "

He moved aside, allowing her to sit down and gain access to the game table.

Oh well, she told herself, it's one way to get to know my patients.

=///=​

Theo and I decided to leave after the game was over – we won, by a handy margin, thanks to Theo's inspired strategies – so as to give Mrs Yamada some alone time with Riley. The girl had rather taken to her, and considered her to be my friend, so I had little fear for the therapist's safety. However, Riley would not let us leave without giving us each a hug, and extracting a promise to come back and visit soon.

I had already intended to return, so I agreed readily enough. Theo also promised to visit; Riley's bubbly personality had apparently made an impression on him. That, and possibly the fact that she could outdo him in horror stories about father figures.

I shook hands with Mrs Yamada before I left; she had a firm, businesslike grip. When Theo and I entered the airlock, Riley was pulling out another board game; Mrs Yamada was watching with interest.

However, the real trial was waiting for us outside the secure cell; after spending such a prolonged duration in the presence of the bio-tinker villain, the guards hit us with the most stringent decontamination process that they could manage. My shirt and handkerchief were analysed to within an inch of their structural integrity, but no pathogens were located. I lost the top layer of my skin – again – as well as some of my remaining hair. Theo seemed to take it in his stride; I began to wonder exactly how hard his life had been with the Empire Eighty-Eight.

Eventually, however, we were cleared to leave; we took the elevator up to the ground floor and passed through the secure checkpoint, at which they checked our identities again. Having proven that we were who we said we were, we headed down the corridor to the lift that led down to the Wards' base.

"So yeah," I told him as we waited for the elevator, "if and when you decide to get therapy, Mrs Yamada's the one the PRT will point your way."

"She seems nice," Theo commented.

"She is," I agreed. "And she's really, really good at it."

"Has she treated you?" he wanted to know.

I chuckled. "Nope. But she has analysed me. Surprised the hell out of me. And I knew she was good."

The elevator doors opened, and he got in. "Well okay," he told me. "When I know when I've got free time, I'll ask for it."

"Good man," I told him. "And good luck in the Wards." Ignoring the tentative efforts of the lift to interleave closed, I offered my hand. He shook it firmly enough, then watched as I pulled my arm back and the doors closed.

As I was walking out through the main lobby, I heard my name called. Stopping, I turned toward the reception desk. "Yes?" I asked, approaching the counter.

"Mr Michael Allen?" the lady asked, looking at a sheet of paper.

"That's me," I confirmed. Pulling out my wallet, I showed her my driver's license, then my security license for good measure.

She nodded. "Thank you, sir." From a drawer, she pulled a bulky, padded envelope, about six by four, and slid it over to me. Scrawled in marker pen on it was the following:

MICHAEL ALLEN

'SECURITY'​

"Huh," I told her. "Thanks."

Stepping away from the desk, I tore open the envelope; within, I found – not altogether to my surprise – my phone, my pepper spray, and my extendible baton, each taken by Menja, and now each returned, possibly by the same person.

I could have gone back to the desk and found out who had returned them, but I didn't really care. Pulling my work belt from my bag, I stowed the baton and the pepper spray in the appropriate pouches. My phone went into my top pocket, and I put the belt back in the bag. Then I went outside to catch a bus.

Having no car – again – kind of sucked.

Fortunately, the bus stop outside the PRT building had a bus pulling up every five minutes. Unfortunately, that didn't mean that the bus I needed was going to arrive any time soon. I spent the time checking my phone for missed calls and messages; there was one of the former and three of the latter.

The call, and one of the text messages were from Gladys. The text message was asking if I was all right; I wasted no time in calling her back and assuring her that yes, I was. We spoke for a little time, before confirming a date on Saturday next.

The second text message was from Lisa, congratulating me on getting my phone back. I texted her in return: Smartass.

The third text message was from a number I didn't recognise. But the message itself chilled my blood.

71.6349% CHANCE END OF WORLD IN SIX MONTHS.
98.4193% CHANCE END OF WORLD IN TWELVE MONTHS.
PREPARE. NOW.
DINAH ALCOTT

Oh fuck, I told myself. Oh holy fucking crap.

My timeline was now officially shot all to hell.


End of Chapter Forty-One

Chapter Forty-Two
 
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First, and most importantly, Riley is absolutely adorable and I really loved her interactions with Theo, Mike, and Yamada.

Theo was great too, of course, but mostly in his relations with Riley. (Also, I predict that a fair number of people are shipping Theo/Riley for Security!)

Regarding the End of the World... I'm going to guess that the lack of Endbringer attacks will have drawn Zion's attention and something, possibly entirely unrelated, will make him lash out. Presumably in a somewhat different way from canon.

Consulting with Dinah about things like this might have been a good idea. :p

Anyway, I vote for "preemptively gank Zion". :p Preferably with 20 Endbringers to hold Zion's attention while plan "Mentally torture him until he lets us kill him" proceeds. And Dragon unleashing everything she can.
 
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For this chapter's ending i chose Eric Clapton's "Everybody Knows" as covered by Concrete Blonde.because everybody knows one thing about Worm....the game is always rigged.
 
On my part, the easy-peasy redeemability of Bonesaw and her effectively automatic acceptance by EVERYONE is the thing I hate the most across pretty much all of Worm fanfiction. It seems that across fanfiction everyone accepts her and forgives her immediately, unless they're of course some exceptionally awful asshole in which case they'll accept her and forgive her only after their second meeting with her, or possibly after an author avatar waves an angry finger at them and lectures them about how they must give the little psychotic mass murderer a second chance.

It's happened in "Amelia", it's happened in "Atonement", it happens in all of Ack's stories, etc, etc. Happens *everywhere*. Perhaps we should ask some of the families of her victims whether forgiving murderers is really as easy as all that.
 
There are a lot of factors involved in that. She's young, she's female, she was effectively under a Master power for every single step of her corruption, she stopped performing such deeds, the people forgiving her tend to be people who haven't lost anybody to her in particular, and she's useful. All of these contribute to her being forgiven relatively easily. I will note that, in a lot of the stories, a lot of people who aren't horrible monsters don't trust Riley at all and, if she wasn't useful, would happily throw her in prison for eternity.

Personally, I'm very firmly on the more forgiving side of the scale and there's relatively few times that I really want retribution beyond an instant of rage against particularly heinous destroyers.
 
The utility of retribution is game-theoretic — it serves as a deterrent to future offenders. There is not really a deterrent which could have kept Riley from becoming Bonesaw, once Jack came across her. Thus, retribution's utility is mostly removed, and the chance to turn her abilities to something that isn't body-horror far outweighs it.

Which, conveniently enough, matches up well enough with most people's moral senses. Bonesaw was a weapon in Jack's hand; removed from Jack and his influence, if this is possible, there's no point in punishing her.
 
alethiophile said:
The utility of retribution is game-theoretic — it serves as a deterrent to future offenders. There is not really a deterrent which could have kept Riley from becoming Bonesaw, once Jack came across her. Thus, retribution's utility is mostly removed, and the chance to turn her abilities to something that isn't body-horror far outweighs it.

Which, conveniently enough, matches up well enough with most people's moral senses. Bonesaw was a weapon in Jack's hand; removed from Jack and his influence, if this is possible, there's no point in punishing her.
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Then what about the people who were manipulated by cults,like Manson's family are they blameless for their actons?
 
Snake/Eater said:
Then what about the people who were manipulated by cults,like Manson's family are they blameless for their actons?
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"Blame" is a fuzzy metaphysical concept in which I don't really trade. The question is as to the course of action with the greatest utility. In many cases, this will nonetheless be punishment, in order to preserve order in the public mind, and the appearance of an unshakable law; in Worm, this is already shot all to hell, and the utility gain from using Riley is enormously greater than that from most any mundane criminal.
 
alethiophile said:
"Blame" is a fuzzy metaphysical concept in which I don't really trade. The question is as to the course of action with the greatest utility. In many cases, this will nonetheless be punishment, in order to preserve order in the public mind, and the appearance of an unshakable law; in Worm, this is already shot all to hell, and the utility gain from using Riley is enormously greater than that from most any mundane criminal.
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Also, Riley has already shown herself to be immensely useful, in helping Dragon perform the operation to save Mike's life.

... from which Piggot cut her off, as soon as she determined that Mike was out of danger.

So yeah, not everyone loves Riley quite yet.
 
Ack said:
People we're gonna need on side.
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Ack said:
"Basically, yes," I agreed. "I'd be stupid not to try to get you on side."
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OK, I originally was just going to point out the spot I found in chapter 41, but when doing a ctrl-f for "on side" to locate it (since I was reading it on ff.net) I found you've done this dozens of times. I just picked one at random to quote...think it was from chapter 30...

Should be something like "on our side;" just "on side" creates a sentence fragment, rather than a complete sentence. You need something to identify which side you're taking about, outside of reader knowledge.

And seriously, ctrl-f and search for "on side" and you'll find dozens of times you've done this.
 
edale said:
OK, I originally was just going to point out the spot I found in chapter 41, but when doing a ctrl-f for "on side" to locate it (since I was reading it on ff.net) I found you've done this dozens of times. I just picked one at random to quote...think it was from chapter 30...

Should be something like "on our side;" just "on side" creates a sentence fragment, rather than a complete sentence. You need something to identify which side you're taking about, outside of reader knowledge.

And seriously, ctrl-f and search for "on side" and you'll find dozens of times you've done this.
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It's a phrase I use. The word "our" or "my" is understood.

Another Australianism, I guess.
 
edale said:
Should be something like "on our side;" just "on side" creates a sentence fragment, rather than a complete sentence. You need something to identify which side you're taking about, outside of reader knowledge.
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I... okay, I think that this is possibly an issue of conflicting understanding of colloquial forms. In some places, including the one I'm located, "on side", like "on board", can be used as written, with the context supplying the implied completion. It's not necessarily formally grammatically correct, but in informal speech, it's commonplace, and understandable to most from that linguistic background, much like "How many police were there?" should properly be "How many police constables/officers/-men/-women/etc... were there?" but when enough people do it sounds better to be grammatically incorrect. Note, this doesn't stop me from speaking the way I learned was correct and wincing internally when others don't, but it's still a realistic way for Mike to speak, I think, unless it happens that "on side" isn't used that way in that part of the States and/or Australia.

Imp'd

Edited to add: I've also encountered the construction a fair bit in published written work by Americans and recordings of interviews of and movies by Americans, so it's not purely an Australianism. The USA has a ton of regional dialects though.
 
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Ack said:
Another Australianism, I guess.
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Ah, I'm American myself, but I do have a decent grasp of the dialects from England, Ireland, Scotland, and a few other English speaking countries; but alas, my knowledge of the Australian dialect and associated idioms comes almost entirely from Crocodile Dundee... *hangs head in shame*

Though I have been told my Australian accent is spot on...
m_d said:
"How many police were there?"
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That actually is grammatically correct. In that example 'police' is used as a plural pronoun (such as 'they' or 'them,' used to collectively refer to a group). Used as such, it refers to anyone connected to law enforcement, regardless of their rank in the police forces.

And I'm from Buffalo, NY. Not right there, but still pretty close to the area Brockton Bay is supposed to be located at. I also spent about a year and a half about 20 miles outside of Boston a few years back, so I am familiar with the dialect used in the area the story takes place in, it's my native dialect, heh.
 
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edale said:
Ah, I'm American myself, but I do have a decent grasp of the dialects from England, Ireland, Scotland, and a few other English speaking countries; but alas, my knowledge of the Australian dialect and associated idioms comes almost entirely from Crocodile Dundee... *hangs head in shame*

Though I have been told my Australian accent is spot on...
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One of the funniest things in the world (to me) is listening to an American try to pronounce "mate" correctly.

Sorry, but it's true. :p
 
'Mate' is actually one of the things I can do in an Australian accent perfectly.

And it's always funny listening to someone with a different accent trying to say something with your accent... Unless they're like me and pick up accents at the drop of a hat. Hell, I can pull of a Chinese accent (well... Chinese speaking English...don't know Chinese or Mandarin myself outside of a few words), and they don't even speak with the same parts of the tongue as English speaking people do (they form sounds by controlling the back of their tongue, rather than the tip, it's where the trouble with 'R's and 'L's comes from).



*edit- Just mad e it to the end of chapter 41.... Please tell me the next chapter will be out in the next 5 minutes..... Please... I can't wait to find out how Mike reacts to that txt msg.


*edit2-
Ack said:
One of the funniest things in the world (to me) is listening to an American try to pronounce "mate" correctly.
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You know... that is kinda funny.
And now, for your amusement:
Ignore the Dilbert picture, needed to put something in there, since youtube doesn't allow audio-only uploads.

And please, give me your honest opinion of the accent.
 
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