Accord's power affects his behavior. Specifically it makes him hyper-aware to disorder and things that are "out of place", so much so that even minor details can drive him to homicidal rage, though he recognizes this in himself and does actively try to contain the urges his power gives where it would be inconvenient to act upon.
It is unknown how much of his original personality was subsumed by his power. Though it has left him with an appreciation of the dramatic flair. He further diverts resources to maintaining his professional mastermind image. He did not permit the use of any type of drugs in his presence or to his knowledge. Keeping people from smoking and or drinking anything if he could.
He believed that it was a waste of resources to participate in Endbringer battles. In his defense there was more then enough evidence of this from several decades of battles.
He desperately wanted to accomplish great things. To achieve these goals he was willing to go through large amounts of abuse.
To the public at large Accord is a crime boss within the wealthier part of Boston. To people with an ear to cape business and politics he is much more than that. He provides plans and outlines for numerous groups and organizations to make sure things run smoothly.
This and his violent attitude were known to the PRT. His high and neigh unachievable standards serve as several switches that can cause him to turn on his allies.
Drawing Accord's ire has been compared to getting a Kill order.
Accord is a short man. Barely standing over five feet — and tends to dress more like a Businessman or mob boss than like a cape. The one concession he makes to his nature is an ornate handmade wood-and-silver mask, that goes with his tailored white suits and walking cane. The Mask is articulated so that people can tell what expressions he makes behind it.
Accord is a Thinker whose intelligence supposedly increases in relation to the size and scope of the problems presented to him; therefore the greater the problem he's given, the faster he can devise a solution for it. This applies to a wide range of applications. From Accord's perspective his Shard feed him estimates and information with whatever task he set his mind to.
As a test of his abilities, he devised a solution to world hunger using only a telephone and the internet in less than six and a half hours and in a further nine typed it up into a concise 150 page document outlining how to implement it. His plans are often so complicated, however, that only Taylor Hebert and Cauldron seriously considered using them.
Accord also has a minor sub-talent for creating objects with multiple interlocking parts and a sense of aesthetic harmony. He personally creates all the costumes and masks for each of the Ambassadors, even making the Travelers costumes. His own mask is made of multiple pieces that shift in response to his facial expressions. Similarly he has created furniture that automatically adjusts itself to the user's weight and posture for maximum comfort, with apparently no electronics involved. This is not a tinker talent however as these are essentially cleverly designed pieces using mundane materials and obeying normal physical laws without physical shard involvement.
His plans have more direct utility. When he personally directs his ambassadors they 'always win'. Further he can 'accordinate' plans to take out certain individuals.Though his tactical ability in direct encounters are less usable. Being able to create elaborate physical and social traps.
Accord originally worked in WEDGDG, an office handling economic oversight within the Parahuman Response Team. He took an afternoon off one day to solve world hunger and devised a plan that would solve it. He turned the sum of his work over to his employer who barely looked at it before demanding that he get back to work. He began siphoning and redistributing funds from his department but failed to account for the other Thinker that worked there. He was caught, imprisoned, and then broken out by a jailbreak specialist.
Nobody that Accord contacted took up his ideas. Government after government failed to read the documents he sent them while no one raised the subject of his work to the United Nations or any major political body.
Accord later decided that he would take the slow, steady path to victory. He amassed contacts, wealth, expanded upon his plans, and spent half an hour each morning to ensure that everything was up to date. Cauldron sent him a friend to get him started.
Accord had come into contact with Cauldron. They provided him with Cauldron vials and a partner, Detente, with which he formed the Clockwork Dogs, and began to establish himself in Boston. The team arrived at the local villain moot and presented their plans for peaceful cooperation. It was not accepted fully.
They continued working all over the city, trading territories, brokering alliances, and whittling down their weaker opponents.
He settled into the Charleston area that he took good care of.Four years on, the Clockwork Dogs are defunct and Detente is long gone. Based on Director Armstrong's suspicions, it is likely that he faked his own death or simply disappeared once Accord was firmly established.
He had dealings with the Travelers, hiring them to attack Blasto's Lab. When Sundancer interrupted the initial meeting he claimed he would have to have the girl killed. Trickster was able to convince him otherwise by offering up the 'true' person responsible for the interruption. After the Travelers supplied Accord with Perdition, things became much more equitable.
Before they moved to Brockton Bay, Accord outfitted the Travelers with their matching red and black costumes.
In order to push out the newly arrived members of Fenrir's Chosen, Accord called a truce with Blasto; allegedly so that he could construct a powerful creature that would send the neo-nazis out of town, but actually as part of a plot to turn him in to the authorities. Accord's Ambassadors were attacked in the building they were stationed in before either plan could be completed, and the tinker was kidnapped by Bonesaw for her own ends. As a consequence of the Slaughterhouse Nine coming to Boston, Accord lost all but two of his current Ambassadors.
As per the agreement with the Undersiders, Accord attended the endbringer fight in India. Where he met his doom.
Accord was killed by Cody, a former member of the Travelers, who had been sold to the Yangban by Accord. Cody was the reason Accord's meeting with the Travelers had been interrupted when they visited Boston prior to the Travelers moving to Brockton Bay. Cody also grievously wounded Chevalier and Tattletale.
↑ 1.01.11.2“Yes. We’re staying a little bit longer here. We looked into it, the heroes don’t have a strong presence here in your Charlestown territory. We can get away with just a little bit more.”
Accord looked down and corrected the position of the pen on his desk before turning back to Trickster. “Fifteen thousand dollars, and fifteen percent of any take. The heroes don’t have a strong presence here because they don’t need a strong presence here. I maintain the peace. It will cost me if I have people here, active and causing trouble.” - Excerpt from Migration 17.8
↑ 3.03.13.2Accord has resources, a long reach, and on the smaller scale, he's a trapmaster. He's much like Coil in some ways, but surrounds himself with capable, ambitious parahumans instead of mercenaries, and plays up the 'trip hidden switch, open pitfall trap' angle.
When he makes it one of his ongoing plans to remove you from the picture, things get really, really bad for you. He's perfectly willing to pull out all the stops to clean up a mess, to kill without any hesitation, and because it's so integral to his reputation that he conveys this image, he is very committed to seeing it through. - Wildbow on Reddit
↑“You’re quiet. You don’t have questions? Requests?”
“Wouldn’t mind some grass.”
Rey smirked, “In the slang sense. I meant-”
“Say no more. I understand what you meant. Provided you stay out of my way, you can do whatever you wish in the assigned area. That said, I and my people will not provide intoxicants, and if you are inebriated in any way in my company-”
The woman at the desk frowned. “My employer is… particular.”
“If you leave the cigarette butts lying around, or if this room smells too strongly of smoke after you’ve left, he will be upset.”
“It’s your funeral,” she said.
“Accord will see you now, Trickster.”
Trickster nodded, crushed his cigarette against the outside of the building, flicked it over the ledge, and then stepped away to close and latch the window before entering the office. He was sure to remove his hat. - Excerpt from Migration 17.8
↑"You would have me risk good help on fruitless fights against immortal killing machines," Accord said. - Excerpt from Interlude 20.y
“You’re subordinate to us,” Tattletale said. “If you have an issue with that, I urge you to submit a written complaint and formally declare war. Twenty four hours notice, if you please. I know you like rules and regulations.”
“You’re mocking me.”
“Yes. And you’re letting me mock you for some reason. You’re making a lot of concessions in our bargain here. You have a reason to be doing that,” Tattletale said. “I’m comfortable leveraging that.”
“I made concessions because I was led to believe that Skitter was going to be the one in charge of matters here. I investigated her, I met her in person, and I decided she fit the necessary qualifications. Now I’m finding that things are definitely not what they appeared to be. She’s not in charge, for one thing, there’s the reckless attack against the Teeth that saw one of my very expensive recruits killed…”
“You don’t really care about that,” Tattletale said. “You wanted to wean out the ones who couldn’t cut it. Codex couldn’t cut it. Good at administration, fantastic cook, skilled when it came to managing people, and could even spar, sure, but she didn’t have the wits about her in a combat situation. Couldn’t switch gears.”
He closed his eyes, and metal shutters flicked into place as the mask mimicked the movement. “Please don’t interrupt me.”
“I don’t think you’re getting my point. I don’t bend to your rules, Accord. If you want to talk about your dead underling, let’s talk.”
“She was shot in the throat from behind.”
“Are you saying I’m wrong?” Tattletale asked. “About her being poorly equipped for cape life?”
“No. The analysis is right. I won’t disagree. But I have other concerns. This business with how you murdered Butcher. The girl at the bottom of the Boat Graveyard… Cherish… it was a risky decision.” - Excerpt from Interlude 21.y
↑ 8.08.1One by one, the Undersiders who’d been standing behind Skitter found seats. The other groups had left, and they were making themselves more at home, now. Regent put his boots on the table, right in front of Imp, who pushed them away.
Overly familiar. Presumptuous.
Accord closed his eyes for a moment. The table was unbalanced now, in a metaphorical sense, but it felt very real. “I don’t recall anyone giving you leave to sit.”
Tattletale raised her eyebrows. “I don’t recall anyone giving you permission to complain. Our territory, our house, our rules.”
I could kill you. Car bombs, other traps. I could manipulate the heroes into going after you. When I direct my ambassadors, they win their fights. You’d break in the face of what I could do, the pressure I could inflict, everything and everyone in the world suddenly a threat, with me pulling the strings.
↑"What do you mean?" Smokey Bandit asked. "We can't pass through?" "You can't pass through," the gang leader said. "You've made powerful enemies." "Enemy, singular," Smoky Bandit muttered. "Enemies," the gang leader said, emphasizing the word. "It's one thing to say someone is connected. I'm connected. But you made the mistake of getting on the wrong side of a system. Deals and illegitimate business pass through that one man's hands, and they come out refined." "We should go, Smoke," Sweet Valentine said. "One second," Smoky Bandit said, irritated. "So, what, you're on his side?" "I opted for a slice of that pie, not everyone does, but I did. And that means that when someone visits the man and gets on his bad side, because they used the wrong fork or sat the wrong way, Accord reaches out. He tells me I can bring you in and he'll reward me, or I can sit this out, but if I offer you sanctuary or let you pass through, I don't get my pie." "And you opted to bring us in?" Smokey Bandit asked, warier, glancing over his shoulder. Smoke gathered around his hands. "No. I don't want to risk my men. But you're going to want to turn around and take the long way around Portland. Not that it matters." "Why doesn't it matter?" Sweet Valentine asked. "He told us that we'd we wouldn't have to keep an eye out for you for more than two days, three hours, forty minutes. He gave us a set time. Next Tuesday, at two thirty in the afternoon, this particular issue will be resolved. He even dropped some names of the people he hired." "Who?" "He told me not to say. He just told me to tell you that they're out there, and about the time limit. He'll probably wrap things up within a minute or two of the deadline, knowing him. Just you, mind you, not your friend." "Oh thank God," Sweet Valentine said. "He's not a precog," Smokey Bandit said. "He can't be sure." "He's not a precog, but he's an exceptional and consistent planner, Smokey," the gang leader said. "Make the most of your next..." The man checked his watch. "Shove it," Smokey said, before the man could finish the sentence. "I get it." He marched off, with Sweet Valentine hurrying to catch up with him. They left the parking garage, climbing into the van. Sweet Valentine slouched in her seat. "I just wish you'd 'gotten' that you shouldn't pee on the toilet seat in our headquarters. Maybe then your aim would have been better in the bathroom at Accord's place." - Wildbow on Reddit
↑She frowned. “This is giving you amnesty for past misdeeds, in practice.”
“Yes. But it ensures we’re all in fighting shape when the next Endbringer fight goes down.”
“Accord remains a problem.”
“We’ll keep him busy, put him in the background. Tattletale has a sense of his motives. We can keep him occupied while keeping him from having a direct hand in things.”
↑“Yeah,” I said. “I’m sick of being on the defensive. I hate waiting for the other shoe to drop, because there’s always another shoe, and always a bigger threat. Speaking of, what’s your interpretation on the company we had tonight, Tattletale? How do you think they’re going to play this?”
“The Ambassadors are on the up and up, as far as I can guess their direction. Accord’s unpredictable, which is kind of ironic. I’d say they’re lower priority.”
“They’re going to stick to the deal?”
“Until Accord’s neurosis pushes him to break it,” Tattletale said. - Excerpt from Imago 21.1
↑ 12.012.1It is definitely possible to avoid the hit. That's not really the problem.
The problem is that he's thorough and he acoordinated four or five independent hits against you, while pulling in favors with people who you'd normally turn to for help or sanctuary.
↑Accord – A thinker of short (five foot) stature, with an ornate metal mask. Hails from Boston. Gets smarter as scenarios get more complicated. Likes order. - Cast (spoiler free)
↑ 14.014.1Accord wasn’t the most influential figure in Boston. That was why Trickster had approached him. He didn’t even look like a supervillain. He looked like a CEO. Only an ornate mask with curling, overlapping bands of dark metal trimmed in silver marked him as anything more. His hair was oiled and neatly parted, and his white suit had been brushed clean with immaculate care. Trickster doubted there was even a fingerprint or a glimmer of tarnish on Accord’s silver tie pin. For all his presence, Accord was barely over five feet in height. - Excerpt from Migration 17.8
↑ 15.015.1Accord – A thinker who is suspected to have intelligence that scales proportionately with the size and complexity of a problem, is a masterful counterattaker fond of elaborate traps, a skilled designer and a cunning policitican. Driven to find order by the rigors of his power, he is ruthless and unyielding when confronting any rulebreakers or anyone who might cause chaos and disorder. A onetime associate of Coil. Accord is short in stature – barely over five feet in height, and wears a neat white suit and a complicated mask of overlapping threads of metal that mimics his facial expressions. - Cast (in depth)
↑ 16.016.116.2“I will pay you a moderate sum, and I will also supply a set of costumes for your team. Use your free time over the coming week to make notes on what you desire. Newspaper clippings, printed images or links to online images each of you individually like. They do not necessarily need to be of costumes or clothing. I would meet each of your teammates to assess their preferences. With that, I can guarantee you costumes that everyone in your group will like.”
And you bring the world a little more in order, Trickster thought. Accord was a thinker, and the running theory on his power was that he got naturally smarter as the problems he was addressing got more complex. It gave him an intuitive understanding of groupthink, politics, and convoluted designs. It also made him a local warlord capable of devastating counterattacks. The power failed to grant him the same advantages in a one-on-one fight, and he wasn’t quite the same battlefield strategist when it came to direct assaults. - Excerpt from Migration 17.8
↑Intrusive thoughts continued to plague him. He’d once described it as being very similar to the sensation one experienced on a train platform, a ledge or while standing in front of fast moving traffic, that momentary urge to simply step forward, to see what might happen.
Except the thoughts were sharper, with more weight to them, more physical than ethereal. His power was problem solving, and every problem demanded to be addressed. The solutions were posited whether he wanted them or not, one step and hundred-step plans alike. And it never ended.
Every flaw needed correcting, every imbalance needed to be weighed again. Mediocrity could be raised to greatness.
The greater the problem, the faster he could solve it. He’d taken the time one afternoon to solve world hunger. Six hours and twenty-six minutes with the internet and a phone on hand, and he’d been able to wrap his head around the key elements of the problem. - Excerpt from Interlude 20.y
↑Accord nodded, once. “As well as we might hope. We lost Coil, but the Undersiders may serve as a model in his absence.”
The gateway closed. Accord sat down on the end of the bed, then lay back, staring at the ceiling.
Coil had been the focus of the test, unaware. The man had also been Accord’s friend, the one who’d sold him the PRT databases. His death had been a tragic thing, on many levels. There were few men Accord considered worthy of being his friend.
Now it hinged on the Undersiders. They’d taken up Coil’s legacy, after a fashion, and just like Coil, their ambitions fell in line with Cauldron’s. The organization’s hopes rode on them and their decisions. Accord’s hopes rode on them: his twenty-three year plan, saving the world from the worst kind of disorder. In the end, they were responsible for billions. - Excerpt from Interlude 20.y
↑ 20.020.120.2It was only one imbalance, one irregularity, but it had been an important one. It had nagged at him, demanded resolution. He had to prove it was possible.
So he’d siphoned the very funds that his department was managing. It hadn’t been hard to redistribute some of the wealth that the villains and rogues were trying to manipulate. One ambiguous evil for the sake of an undeniable good. He covered his tracks flawlessly.
In the process, he failed to account for the full breadth of his newest coworker’s talents. Thinker powers interfered with one another, and despite his ability to work with that particular drawback, even help them to work in concert, the clairvoyant had found him out. He’d been caught, jailed, and subsequently freed by the jailbreak specialist he’d contacted well in advance. - Excerpt from Interlude 20.y
It varies from tinker to tinker. In the tinker's handbook, I break tinkers down into types. Every approach changes in little ways. By and large, however, it's a case where you get inspiration like any creative or engineer might, and as you decide to put it into action, the ideas fall into place in your head.
Some tinkers might tune out at some point in the process, they might get into the zone, black out, or lose track of time. Other stay lucid but might only do certain things at different points in the project because they 'feel right' or because of ideas in their heads about wanting things to stay balanced or to maintain a seemingly logical flow of A to B to C, conveniently skipping why it was seemingly logical in the first place - if pressed they would have a hard time explaining.
It seems incomplete because it is an incomplete process. In the background, the shards themselves are taking a hand in things, supplying an extradimensional limb to hold something in place that the tinker isn't wholly aware of, or a power-driven equivalent to a screwdriver in another reality that connects the aforementioned A to B. This is why tinkers have such a terrible time trying to teach others how to build their tech, and why another person can't just sit down at a table and copy everything the tinker does.
The shards are helping to put ideas in the tinker's head or round out ideas as the tinker has them, supplying blueprints or outlines, or giving them a 'feel' as to how easy it will be to put something together. When the tinker pulls out a tricorder-like device and scans a power signature, the shard helps supply the language and interpretation for the tinker. During the build process, the shard itself supplies a helping hand, or outright takes over at a given period of time, during which time the tinker isn't wholly there (blacked out, in the zone, lost in their work) and the shard is doing the work. Sometimes this is pronounced to the point that the tinker isn't wholly sure what they'll end up with. - Wildbow on Reddit
↑The Watchdog group is the group Accord belonged to. Parahuman thinkers and investigative bodies keeping an eye on economy, politics and other possible shenanigans behind the scenes. - Excerpt from a comment by Wildbow on Reddit
↑Here he was, years later. Nobody he’d contacted had taken to his ideas, and government after government had failed to thoroughly read the documents he sent them. Nobody raised the subject of his work to the United Nations or any major political body. They were too interested in maintaining the status quo.
His plans weren’t observably closer to fruition, but he had contacts and he had wealth, and that went a long way. He would take the slow, steady path to victory. The binder relating to world hunger had been expanded on, with the addition of further binders to detailing the specifics. Other sets of binders had joined it, each relating to a major issue: disease, population, government, energy, and climate. He spent an hour and a half every morning ensuring that everything was up to date with recent changes to the economy and international politics. - Excerpt from Interlude 20.y
↑“We’re leaving the south-end, south-Boston, Roxbury areas,” Detente said. “This is not the only moot that we’ve been attending. We’ve been talking to other groups and we arranged a compromise.”
“What did you assholes do?” Burning Sensation asked.
“We’ve traded territory. Much as the Four moved to Hyde Park, we will take Charlestown. Our numbers have swelled, and in the interest of building connections and ensuring that we can take Charlestown without any incident, we’ll be loaning out our capes to other factions.” - Excerpt from Eclipse x.7
↑“How do I put this? Some of this is classified, and there’s information I can’t give you. Accord’s power made him very valuable to people who are playing on a level on par with the PRT, understand? I can’t tell you who they are, but Detente is one of them. He’s a powerful individual from halfway across the planet, and as far as we can tell, someone sent this guy to Accord to help establish him in Boston. Detente is liable to disappear or fake his own death. He’s been going back and forth between his roles.” -[Excerpt] from Eclipse x.7
↑In Accord’s defense, he was planning on framing Blasto, and not letting the tinker get to the point where he really finished a dangerous project; let him start working, get caught up in things, and then disappear, leaving a message for the heroes so they can stumble on the guy with piles of classified material and a possible Endbringer-in progress (note how the place is nice, but it’s not Accord’s real headquarters, as they were described in the last chapter of Migration).
I was going to have something like that in there, but couldn’t find a place for it at the end that wouldn’t kill the tempo. - comment by Wildbow on Interlude 19.x