"Puh-leez, I did my first brain in a jar when I was eight. I can keep it alive until, until something goes wrong I guess. Wouldn't be able to maintain it, obviously."
"I've operated on Hatchet before. I'd have to use remote robots, but it'd work. Or if robots sound too scary I could build the vat and you could make a copy of the brain already in it. Or you could do the same with the jar I made when I was eight, but that one wasn't built to last."
Peanut gallery's divided. The retributivist faction does win out eventually. "Even if that works, she said it wouldn't work forever. There'd be a free and fully powered Bonesaw as soon as her machine broke down. The machine she'd be the one building."
"This is true. Does anyone else on tap know how to build a stable brain jar which does not have to involve Riley's personal expertise? No one need actually do it as long as they can point me to reliable plans."
"You could use Mannequin's. There's a lot of extra stuff in there and it'd be like going everywhere attached to a life-support violin case, but it'd work. It's built to last because he used it on himself. I'd rather make my own though."
"I'm sure you'd rather, but you're very scary. Speaking of ways you're very scary and Tinkers doing things to themselves, Shatterbird I had to actually kill instead of knock out because she happened to be immune to the drugs I tried. I assume you've got some nasty cocktail of enhancements too."
"Okay... this is sort of a hypocritical question, considering that I myself am immune to everything from drugs to blood loss, but how are you immune to blood loss."
"Each major blood vessel is separately armored and automatically pinches off upstream if something manages to break it anyway. A bit more than that, but I basically don't bleed."
"Good enough. Nobody shoot me while I get rid of the heartbeat monitor."
She slithers upward until she's partially out of the trap, apparently dislocating everything from her shoulders to her lower ribs, but it all settles right back to where it came from. Then she slices herself open with a pocketed scalpel, some ribs move obligingly out of the way, and she has the implant out and the incision sewn up in seconds. There's no blood.
"Already done. As much as we'd collectively rather try her here, Chief Director Costa-Brown says otherwise. You can take responsibility for Bonesaw if you insist. In exchange she'd like to ask for whatever lists of parahumans they keep in the Thanda, Yangban, Dno, and Red Gauntlet, as well as a pile of less weaponized tinker tech than what you copied for Crawler."
"I'll forward you the list of devices they had in mind. If you need it forwarded. Either way, enjoy having a captive member of the Slaughterhouse Nine. Any preferences on what we do with Crawler?"
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"Wouldn't have to be a whole copy. Just the brain, and I can even pare that down a bit further."
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"Even if that works, she said it wouldn't work forever. There'd be a free and fully powered Bonesaw as soon as her machine broke down. The machine she'd be the one building."
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"Okay... this is sort of a hypocritical question, considering that I myself am immune to everything from drugs to blood loss, but how are you immune to blood loss."
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So do we have a deal? I deactivate the plague switch, you stop the Protectorate from killing me?"
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She slithers upward until she's partially out of the trap, apparently dislocating everything from her shoulders to her lower ribs, but it all settles right back to where it came from. Then she slices herself open with a pocketed scalpel, some ribs move obligingly out of the way, and she has the implant out and the incision sewn up in seconds. There's no blood.
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"So, is it safe to shoot her now?" the more opinionated Protectorate voices wonder.
"Completely," the absolutely trustworthy serial killer answers.
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Either way, enjoy having a captive member of the Slaughterhouse Nine. Any preferences on what we do with Crawler?"
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