They’d cornered Orion’s Belt.
Finally, Alpha Dog had had enough, and he demanded answers, and his pride demanded the ones he wanted answered for himself first, and that was how the Council finally confronted Orion’s Belt.
“You want answers?” he said back, to no one in particular, ignoring the glare of Alpha Dog, ignoring all of them, really, a sad, distant look on his face. He looked just like the rest of them, the same glorious, ridiculous costume, all alone, cut off from the Red Dean, cut off from the rest of the Witch Doctor’s budding alliance, or conspiracy, depending who you asked.
The one element of that costume that everyone always took note of was the collar, the one so huge that it looked more like a necklace, or a belt. Hence his name.
“I’ll give you answers,” he continued. He didn’t look at any of them, just reached his hand upward, toward that belt, the one that glowed all the time, even when all the heroes were sitting around, like they were right now. He clicked the center, what would have been a belt buckle, if it had actually been a belt. At first, nothing happened. The belt simply fell off.
You could hear Alpha Dog grunt derisively, but then, the Council, and certainly Orion’s Belt, was used to that.
But then Orion’s Belt started to fade, to glimmer actually. No one knew what was happening. He’d never done that before. Then space seemed to shift around him. No, that’s not right. The space didn’t shift. He shifted, from one to three separate forms. Each of the three forms that emerged from this transformation was a male, about thirty years old, all the same height, all just under six feet. One of them had a beard. Two of them were clearly brothers. And they were all naked.
The one with a beard spoke: “So, now you know. The name’s Jake Remus. These are Norris and Joe Browne.”
Alpha Dog grunted again.
“Fascinating,” the Boolean said. “This is not unheard of, but still. Fascinating.”
“There’s more to it,” Ajax concluded.
“There is,” Jake Remus said. “You’re not going to know what it is.”
The two brothers beside him nodded as if there was no question about it.
“This is unacceptable,” Alpha Dog. It was his favorite refrain. Everyone had heard him say it, everyone had had it addressed to them. It didn’t mean he didn’t believe it every time. “You’re to return to quarters for further questioning. No questions.”
The three members of the Orion’s Belt matrix didn’t think to question him, not with the entire Council present, except for Sky Fox.
Justin Proper was the only one who didn’t speak in that moment, besides the Browne brothers. He alone seemed to understand the gravity of what had just occurred. The Council had just forced a most intimate secret into the open, from one of their own squires. Yes, they had just succeeded in reasserting their authority. But the cost would be greater than any of them could yet realize. The Witch Doctor would be displeased. Was he really the only one who understood what that meant?
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
Back from the Dead #9
When he was thirteen, the boy who would one day become known as the Biker asked a classmate why he was such an outcast, and this other boy was basically an outcast, too, and the classmate said that it was because he didn’t conform. The boy knew why he didn’t conform, and it was mostly because his parents couldn’t afford to let him, and that was basically when he realized that it didn’t really matter, and that even if it could sometimes make him miserable, that’s exactly what he wanted to be, an outcast.
That made a number of things difficult, not the least because he was an outcast among outcasts, too, and so could not even count on a fringe element to support him when he fell, which was often, but eventually, it all paid off, and he became exactly what he wanted to become. But he soon discovered that even that wouldn’t be the end of it.
It was the realization that superheroes weren’t just superheroes but part of their own hierarchy that really bothered him, out of everything else. It didn’t make any sense to him, that it wasn’t simply being a superhero that was enough, the will and the ability to do the good that others were incapable of, that there were artificial rules that superheroes were expected to follow, not for the benefit of it, but rather to appease other superheroes.
Superheroes with egos. Who would’ve thought?
Not the Biker, but luckily, along the way of his life’s journey, he’d developed an ability to ignore small hiccups like this. It might be assumed that, with a name like the Biker, he represented an almost supernatural version of the biker cliché, but the truth was, he didn’t, and he did at the same time. He was more Zen than that. He was a loner, always had been and always would be.
That’s why he was the first one to walk away from the Witch Doctor’s alliance. Even though he was basically the reason it existed in the first place, he decided he wanted nothing to do with it. And he wanted was what he’d always wanted, the ability to be himself.
Ellen Encanto actually took it as a betrayal, took it personally, and all he wanted to do was reassure her that it wasn’t, that he never meant to hurt her, and that in truth, he was madly in love with her, and it had nothing to do with seeing her naked or accepting or rejecting her ambitions, but that he knew a kindred spirit when he saw one and that what he really wanted to do was help her, and when he figured that out, that’s when he knew he had to walk away, because it was not his place to do any such thing, not unless she wanted it herself. He was not on this earth to cause pain, only alleviate it.
That’s what he wished everyone understood, especially his fellows in the superhero community, and why he wanted more badly than he’d ever admit to anyone to stick around the alliance, to be the one who saw it succeed, but to do so would violate everything he believed in, and that was something he couldn’t do, the one thing he could never do.
He’d made plenty of mistakes in his life, but mistakes are things that happen by accident, or otherwise they aren’t mistakes. If he willfully made one, then it wasn’t a mistake but rather a regret, and he didn’t believe in those.
If he didn’t have everything he wanted then that was a fact and as close to a regret as he came, because he wanted so badly to remain at the side of the Witch Doctor. He was one of the few people who called her Ellen, and fewer still who knew her as Jane, in fact the only one who called her that. She had many names; he only had one, and maybe that was another reason to put some distance between them, for now.
Because he still hoped that he could have it both ways, because that’s what everyone wanted, the mistake and flaw in the construct of society. The Biker was a loner for a reason. He stood apart, even though he wished he didn’t have to. Just a few changes, so minor yet so cataclysmic…
That made a number of things difficult, not the least because he was an outcast among outcasts, too, and so could not even count on a fringe element to support him when he fell, which was often, but eventually, it all paid off, and he became exactly what he wanted to become. But he soon discovered that even that wouldn’t be the end of it.
It was the realization that superheroes weren’t just superheroes but part of their own hierarchy that really bothered him, out of everything else. It didn’t make any sense to him, that it wasn’t simply being a superhero that was enough, the will and the ability to do the good that others were incapable of, that there were artificial rules that superheroes were expected to follow, not for the benefit of it, but rather to appease other superheroes.
Superheroes with egos. Who would’ve thought?
Not the Biker, but luckily, along the way of his life’s journey, he’d developed an ability to ignore small hiccups like this. It might be assumed that, with a name like the Biker, he represented an almost supernatural version of the biker cliché, but the truth was, he didn’t, and he did at the same time. He was more Zen than that. He was a loner, always had been and always would be.
That’s why he was the first one to walk away from the Witch Doctor’s alliance. Even though he was basically the reason it existed in the first place, he decided he wanted nothing to do with it. And he wanted was what he’d always wanted, the ability to be himself.
Ellen Encanto actually took it as a betrayal, took it personally, and all he wanted to do was reassure her that it wasn’t, that he never meant to hurt her, and that in truth, he was madly in love with her, and it had nothing to do with seeing her naked or accepting or rejecting her ambitions, but that he knew a kindred spirit when he saw one and that what he really wanted to do was help her, and when he figured that out, that’s when he knew he had to walk away, because it was not his place to do any such thing, not unless she wanted it herself. He was not on this earth to cause pain, only alleviate it.
That’s what he wished everyone understood, especially his fellows in the superhero community, and why he wanted more badly than he’d ever admit to anyone to stick around the alliance, to be the one who saw it succeed, but to do so would violate everything he believed in, and that was something he couldn’t do, the one thing he could never do.
He’d made plenty of mistakes in his life, but mistakes are things that happen by accident, or otherwise they aren’t mistakes. If he willfully made one, then it wasn’t a mistake but rather a regret, and he didn’t believe in those.
If he didn’t have everything he wanted then that was a fact and as close to a regret as he came, because he wanted so badly to remain at the side of the Witch Doctor. He was one of the few people who called her Ellen, and fewer still who knew her as Jane, in fact the only one who called her that. She had many names; he only had one, and maybe that was another reason to put some distance between them, for now.
Because he still hoped that he could have it both ways, because that’s what everyone wanted, the mistake and flaw in the construct of society. The Biker was a loner for a reason. He stood apart, even though he wished he didn’t have to. Just a few changes, so minor yet so cataclysmic…
Star Trek '12: 1712 AD - Chez Sandrine
The doors of Chez Sandrine were due to be opened, but its proprietor hesitated, for just a moment. In moments the culmination of her dream was about to be fulfilled. She had envisioned a hangout where it wouldn’t matter where you came from, who you were, but rather that you could just have a good time. It was certainly a time in French history where everything seemed possible, and that there would never be an end to it…but the proprietor wondered.
Chez Sandrine had nothing to do with the rest of the country, the rest of the empire, but the proprietor knew that it had only been possible because of these wild, unabashed, and unprecedented successes, the culmination of other dreams and an unconquerable belief that France was the center of the world.
But was it really?
There was that endless feud with England, a rivalry that seemed to stretch far beyond the horizon and used every excuse to continue (and God only knew how it would expand in the New World). Would an Englishmen be welcomed in Chez Sandrine? The proprietor, now that she supposed, hadn’t really thought of that. But hadn’t her vision been all-inclusive? Had she really considered qualifiers, even if exceptions would include Englishmen? And if she allowed that, how many more compromises?
That’s why she now hesitated. For so many months she had pursued her vision, her dream, with a single-mindedness that had surprised even her, but she had once been told that this was the only way to succeed. But it was also the only way to fail.
Was it really just an ill-advised mistake? Should she close the doors before they were even opened? And really, what would be the difference? Who would even remember Chez Sandrine, in the grand scheme? It was one silly little girl’s folly, probably wouldn’t even last a year, and if it did, it would be in corrupted form, no longer holding fast to her ideals, the necessary blight that all victories must bear. Utopias only exist in the past, in someone’s imagination, where they belong.
She was about to walk away, turn her back on the whole enterprise, ignore the journey that had brought her to this moment, when she heard something just on the other side of the door. Curious, she looked outside the window, and was surprised to see a crowd waiting. One of the impatient would-be patrons had thrown a rock, and she could only guess how seriously. It had caused no damage that she could see from the inside. To further investigate, she would have to go outside. And, effectively, open Chez Sandrine.
Curiosity got the best of her.
She graciously bowed to her customers, remaining silent, a fairly curious greeting for a passion project, and let each of them enter, closing the door behind them. There were waiters to take orders, after all, so it wouldn’t be considered too rude, and games to pass the time, including a pool table that seemed to sit at the center of the floor. She heard the tell-tale crack in moments, while she stooped to examine the building for a ding. She saw nothing.
She stepped back in minutes later, after catching her breath, pretending that everything was fine, and maybe it was. She let her worries evaporate in the smoky air being filled by all those who were enjoying Chez Sandrine, as if nothing at all had just occurred, just another moment in a long series of them, and her dream had always existed.
And maybe it had.
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
Back from the Dead #8
In his prime, Ajax would never have abided any of this nonsense.
This statement should be clarified: “Any of this nonsense” should be understood to mean not just the business with the resurrection of the Witch Doctor and her growing rebellion against the system, but also the system itself.
That, too, needs clarification. Ajax fully understood the concept of the Council itself, but he never quite got the handle of the need for squires. Of all the Council, he still believed in fighting his own battles. This was probably due to the fact that he was easily its senior member, a generation older than his next oldest ally, which would be Alpha Dog (not that the general public thought of Alpha Dog as old).
Perhaps he had such difficulties because his squire was nearly the opposite of what Ajax had always understood himself to be, much in the same mold as Alpha Dog, a strong and confident and very obvious warrior who was easy to understand and did not need interpreting. The Quiet Man was none of these things.
This caused a great deal of contention between them, and was the reason why Ajax held the system in contempt, complaining bitterly about it at every Council meeting (first Monday of every month, except in emergency situations).
It was actually Ajax who had originally imposed the rules, once it was clear that he was not going to be able to talk his allies out of their decision, on the selection of squires. Out of the available pool, he had personally selected the Quiet Man, believing that his experience and guidance could mold the younger hero into something he could better comprehend.
After six months Ajax was disabused of this belief.
He could never bring himself to understand, first of all, why a superhero would choose the name “Quiet Man” in the first place. In his worldview, there was no room for subtlety. If something needed to be done, it needed to be done in the most obvious and forthright way possible, otherwise the point would not be made and nothing would be achieved. He tried to make this plain to the Quiet Man. He could never abide the methods of the Cold War, for one thing, something his father had instilled in him, a warrior from a different time but at least someone Ajax could understand.
He knew well enough that different tactics could be useful in a strategy, even in a fight, but the Quiet Man represented an entirely separate ideology, and for some reason, that was always the most difficult obstacle to surmount. It was a fight, then, that he could not win, and he tried not believe that it was a matter of intellect, because he knew that it was not his strong suit, and he secretly loathed anyone for whom it was.
Perhaps that was why the relationship was such a hassle for him, because he could not bring himself to respect the Quiet Man, and he believed the same was true of his squire.
Still, they had been together for a long time, and despite himself Ajax felt a kinship with the Quiet Man, and didn’t like to see such a relationship put in jeopardy, because that was another thing he’d learned from his father, and in time, the value of associations. That was the main reason why he’d joined the Council in the first place, because working in a group is always more effective than working independently, and as far as he was concerned, that was the main thrust of the Council’s imperative. Never mind what anyone else thought.
The present situation, then, threatened everything he’d ever believed. How to approach the Quiet Man about it? Ajax only wished he knew. Perhaps this was the crux of it, the thing he’d tried so long to ignore, hoping it would just go away. Well, it hadn’t, and now it had just gotten worse. Then again, a part of him was glad. Things were about to become interesting again…
This statement should be clarified: “Any of this nonsense” should be understood to mean not just the business with the resurrection of the Witch Doctor and her growing rebellion against the system, but also the system itself.
That, too, needs clarification. Ajax fully understood the concept of the Council itself, but he never quite got the handle of the need for squires. Of all the Council, he still believed in fighting his own battles. This was probably due to the fact that he was easily its senior member, a generation older than his next oldest ally, which would be Alpha Dog (not that the general public thought of Alpha Dog as old).
Perhaps he had such difficulties because his squire was nearly the opposite of what Ajax had always understood himself to be, much in the same mold as Alpha Dog, a strong and confident and very obvious warrior who was easy to understand and did not need interpreting. The Quiet Man was none of these things.
This caused a great deal of contention between them, and was the reason why Ajax held the system in contempt, complaining bitterly about it at every Council meeting (first Monday of every month, except in emergency situations).
It was actually Ajax who had originally imposed the rules, once it was clear that he was not going to be able to talk his allies out of their decision, on the selection of squires. Out of the available pool, he had personally selected the Quiet Man, believing that his experience and guidance could mold the younger hero into something he could better comprehend.
After six months Ajax was disabused of this belief.
He could never bring himself to understand, first of all, why a superhero would choose the name “Quiet Man” in the first place. In his worldview, there was no room for subtlety. If something needed to be done, it needed to be done in the most obvious and forthright way possible, otherwise the point would not be made and nothing would be achieved. He tried to make this plain to the Quiet Man. He could never abide the methods of the Cold War, for one thing, something his father had instilled in him, a warrior from a different time but at least someone Ajax could understand.
He knew well enough that different tactics could be useful in a strategy, even in a fight, but the Quiet Man represented an entirely separate ideology, and for some reason, that was always the most difficult obstacle to surmount. It was a fight, then, that he could not win, and he tried not believe that it was a matter of intellect, because he knew that it was not his strong suit, and he secretly loathed anyone for whom it was.
Perhaps that was why the relationship was such a hassle for him, because he could not bring himself to respect the Quiet Man, and he believed the same was true of his squire.
Still, they had been together for a long time, and despite himself Ajax felt a kinship with the Quiet Man, and didn’t like to see such a relationship put in jeopardy, because that was another thing he’d learned from his father, and in time, the value of associations. That was the main reason why he’d joined the Council in the first place, because working in a group is always more effective than working independently, and as far as he was concerned, that was the main thrust of the Council’s imperative. Never mind what anyone else thought.
The present situation, then, threatened everything he’d ever believed. How to approach the Quiet Man about it? Ajax only wished he knew. Perhaps this was the crux of it, the thing he’d tried so long to ignore, hoping it would just go away. Well, it hadn’t, and now it had just gotten worse. Then again, a part of him was glad. Things were about to become interesting again…
Monday, May 28, 2012
Back from the Dead #7
The Boolean knew Red Dean as his squire. He knew that Red Dean was also referred to as the Bandit Dean of Canterbury, although there was some controversy using the name “Bandit” in reference to any other superhero besides the one who operated out of Bowie, TX. He knew that Red Dean had a curious relationship with Orion’s Belt. He knew that Red Dean, along with Orion’s Belt, Meme, Bruin, and the Biker, was part of the alliance Ellen Encanto, the Witch Doctor, had put together after returning from the dead, an unexpected development of her murder at the hands of Widowmaker.
There were many things the Boolean knew. He was a member of the Council because he knew things. The Council consisted mostly of superheroes who were known as fairly typical superheroes, of whom Alpha Dog was the most typical. Justin Proper was more typical than the Boolean. Ajax was more typical than the Boolean. Sky Fox was more typical than the Boolean. For one thing, the Boolean had a name that, although an obscurely familiar concept, was not a household name, except in his particular context. But he was not in himself a household name. He was a facilitator, and thus more familiar to the rest of the Council than to anyone else.
The Boolean didn’t particularly care. He existed on almost pure logic. He made connections within the database of his knowledge that enabled his teammates to be more effective. Until the return of the Witch Doctor, the Council was most effective in its deployment of their individual squires. The members of the Council were all recognized as exceptional superheroes, but they left most of the typical activities of a superhero to their squires.
This was not what most people thought of as superhero activity, and in fact would still have assigned all of the attention for cumulative results to the Council, but in truth, despite appearances, it was the squires who did most of the work. Until the return of the Witch Doctor, everyone was fine with how this system worked.
The Boolean understood why the Witch Doctor wanted to change things. Death tends to be a significant event, and return from such an experience is bound to change one’s perspective. The Boolean had a catalog of every superhero who had ever returned from the dead, and thus knew better than anyone what to expect. As a member of the Council, he was supposed to ignore this particular set of facts, and instead focus on the interests of his teammates, which he himself would have noted was exactly what the Witch Doctor was attempting to do, making an effort to make sure what happened to her never happened again.
He studied Red Dean to better understand what he should do next, hiding behind analysis to circumvent both the wishes of the Council and any practical concern for the league of squires. Red Dean had always been a loose-cannon, centered on his own interests and gadgets, conducting himself in a carefree manner but otherwise submitting to the wishes of others, and more often than not his superiors. Throwing his lot in with someone else’s wishes so completely as he was doing now was simply not in his character. It exhibited an extreme amount of discipline, where his previous motivation was all about displaying character.
He noted that Red Dean had changed his garb, so that there was no longer, in fact, any scarlet in his wardrobe, a curious development that the Boolean was at a loss to explain. One of the benefits of this alternation was that Red Dean now looked a lot more like his new friends. It was a matter of conformity that the Boolean associated with misfits, which was exactly what the rest of the Council considered their squires, just not previously in direct association with one another.
If the Witch Doctor failed in her apparent mission to eliminate Widowmaker, would any of it matter? That was what the Boolean really wanted to know. He studied Red Dean in order to determine how much he was actually being affected by all of it. So far, at least superficially, the Boolean had to conclude, “a great deal.”
Should he be alarmed? Was that the conclusion he should bring to the rest of the Council? Perhaps.
There were many things the Boolean knew. He was a member of the Council because he knew things. The Council consisted mostly of superheroes who were known as fairly typical superheroes, of whom Alpha Dog was the most typical. Justin Proper was more typical than the Boolean. Ajax was more typical than the Boolean. Sky Fox was more typical than the Boolean. For one thing, the Boolean had a name that, although an obscurely familiar concept, was not a household name, except in his particular context. But he was not in himself a household name. He was a facilitator, and thus more familiar to the rest of the Council than to anyone else.
The Boolean didn’t particularly care. He existed on almost pure logic. He made connections within the database of his knowledge that enabled his teammates to be more effective. Until the return of the Witch Doctor, the Council was most effective in its deployment of their individual squires. The members of the Council were all recognized as exceptional superheroes, but they left most of the typical activities of a superhero to their squires.
This was not what most people thought of as superhero activity, and in fact would still have assigned all of the attention for cumulative results to the Council, but in truth, despite appearances, it was the squires who did most of the work. Until the return of the Witch Doctor, everyone was fine with how this system worked.
The Boolean understood why the Witch Doctor wanted to change things. Death tends to be a significant event, and return from such an experience is bound to change one’s perspective. The Boolean had a catalog of every superhero who had ever returned from the dead, and thus knew better than anyone what to expect. As a member of the Council, he was supposed to ignore this particular set of facts, and instead focus on the interests of his teammates, which he himself would have noted was exactly what the Witch Doctor was attempting to do, making an effort to make sure what happened to her never happened again.
He studied Red Dean to better understand what he should do next, hiding behind analysis to circumvent both the wishes of the Council and any practical concern for the league of squires. Red Dean had always been a loose-cannon, centered on his own interests and gadgets, conducting himself in a carefree manner but otherwise submitting to the wishes of others, and more often than not his superiors. Throwing his lot in with someone else’s wishes so completely as he was doing now was simply not in his character. It exhibited an extreme amount of discipline, where his previous motivation was all about displaying character.
He noted that Red Dean had changed his garb, so that there was no longer, in fact, any scarlet in his wardrobe, a curious development that the Boolean was at a loss to explain. One of the benefits of this alternation was that Red Dean now looked a lot more like his new friends. It was a matter of conformity that the Boolean associated with misfits, which was exactly what the rest of the Council considered their squires, just not previously in direct association with one another.
If the Witch Doctor failed in her apparent mission to eliminate Widowmaker, would any of it matter? That was what the Boolean really wanted to know. He studied Red Dean in order to determine how much he was actually being affected by all of it. So far, at least superficially, the Boolean had to conclude, “a great deal.”
Should he be alarmed? Was that the conclusion he should bring to the rest of the Council? Perhaps.
Sunday, May 27, 2012
Back from the Dead #6
In order to be persuasive, you must first be in the position to be so.
For instance, Alpha Dog knew the one strategy he needed to affect the budding alliance around the Witch Doctor, and that was to persuade Meme to betray it. The only way to do this was to convince Justin Proper that getting at least one of his squires in line was possible.
Now, Alpha Dog was not as unreasonable as he might sometimes appear. He believed in the truth of his convictions, and that was part of what made him so endearing to the public, and despite his faults that was true of his colleagues as well. Sometimes his convictions could be a little more rational than other times, and he could present them in their best possible light. Justin Proper was always game to humor him, and that didn’t hurt, either.
The way all this actually translates to relevance for our story is that Alpha Dog recognized that Justin Proper’s primary concern, as always, was for a sense of order to prevail. He didn’t care as much for the particular sense of order that Alpha Dog preserved with such fanaticism, but Proper could be convinced that the particular order that the Witch Doctor’s alliance now suggested might not be as conducive to the order the Council had been maintaining for years as the returned hero might be thinking.
In fact, all Alpha Dog had to say was “Traverse,” and Proper knew exactly what he meant. For good measure, he also referenced the Conformists, and Proper had an even better sense of the kind of chaos that was possible from this development. The actions of the Eidolon were notorious enough, but they had taken places years ago, and as with all of history, no matter how relevant it continues to be, there always needed reminding to keep the memory alive.
“The Conformists believed that they had eliminated all their enemies,” Proper said, shaking his head. “I see what you mean.”
So he quickly set about using his influence over Meme to better understand the Witch Doctor’s plans, their strengths and weaknesses, and how exactly each of the members in this conspiracy actually believed in them.
The benefit, as Alpha Dog well knew, was that someone like Meme could spread whatever was impressed upon them easily. The problem was getting the right message across.
He suspected that Proper could figure it out on his own. All he needed was a suggestion, and he’d tackle it all the way to the ground, with a relentless sense of logic.
That’s how Proper approached Meme. Both of Proper’s squires had been women, which some members of the Council had considered to be a mistake, but Proper always insisted that he could handle it, and in truth, he had, with aplomb. There were the suggestions that he took the death of Ellen Encanto hard because he’d actually fallen in love with her, and that he showered attention on Meme afterward because he needed to fill a void, no matter how improperly, but Alpha Dog had been the one to insist that this couldn’t have been the case, not with Justin Proper. And everyone believed it. Meme was the one who convinced them, actually.
But then, everyone was secretly in love with her.
That was the main concern now, that Proper’s better instincts would be affected, but Alpha Dog brushed that aside. He believed in Proper. Proper, in turn, believed that he was completely in control of himself, and he believed in the system, and he believed in Meme. Meme, after all, was a pussycat. She’s listen to him; she’d understand exactly what was at stake. She’d betray her friends, even the Witch Doctor.
And everyone else would fall back into line.
For instance, Alpha Dog knew the one strategy he needed to affect the budding alliance around the Witch Doctor, and that was to persuade Meme to betray it. The only way to do this was to convince Justin Proper that getting at least one of his squires in line was possible.
Now, Alpha Dog was not as unreasonable as he might sometimes appear. He believed in the truth of his convictions, and that was part of what made him so endearing to the public, and despite his faults that was true of his colleagues as well. Sometimes his convictions could be a little more rational than other times, and he could present them in their best possible light. Justin Proper was always game to humor him, and that didn’t hurt, either.
The way all this actually translates to relevance for our story is that Alpha Dog recognized that Justin Proper’s primary concern, as always, was for a sense of order to prevail. He didn’t care as much for the particular sense of order that Alpha Dog preserved with such fanaticism, but Proper could be convinced that the particular order that the Witch Doctor’s alliance now suggested might not be as conducive to the order the Council had been maintaining for years as the returned hero might be thinking.
In fact, all Alpha Dog had to say was “Traverse,” and Proper knew exactly what he meant. For good measure, he also referenced the Conformists, and Proper had an even better sense of the kind of chaos that was possible from this development. The actions of the Eidolon were notorious enough, but they had taken places years ago, and as with all of history, no matter how relevant it continues to be, there always needed reminding to keep the memory alive.
“The Conformists believed that they had eliminated all their enemies,” Proper said, shaking his head. “I see what you mean.”
So he quickly set about using his influence over Meme to better understand the Witch Doctor’s plans, their strengths and weaknesses, and how exactly each of the members in this conspiracy actually believed in them.
The benefit, as Alpha Dog well knew, was that someone like Meme could spread whatever was impressed upon them easily. The problem was getting the right message across.
He suspected that Proper could figure it out on his own. All he needed was a suggestion, and he’d tackle it all the way to the ground, with a relentless sense of logic.
That’s how Proper approached Meme. Both of Proper’s squires had been women, which some members of the Council had considered to be a mistake, but Proper always insisted that he could handle it, and in truth, he had, with aplomb. There were the suggestions that he took the death of Ellen Encanto hard because he’d actually fallen in love with her, and that he showered attention on Meme afterward because he needed to fill a void, no matter how improperly, but Alpha Dog had been the one to insist that this couldn’t have been the case, not with Justin Proper. And everyone believed it. Meme was the one who convinced them, actually.
But then, everyone was secretly in love with her.
That was the main concern now, that Proper’s better instincts would be affected, but Alpha Dog brushed that aside. He believed in Proper. Proper, in turn, believed that he was completely in control of himself, and he believed in the system, and he believed in Meme. Meme, after all, was a pussycat. She’s listen to him; she’d understand exactly what was at stake. She’d betray her friends, even the Witch Doctor.
And everyone else would fall back into line.
Saturday, May 26, 2012
Back from the Dead #5
In the world of superheroes and villains, it’s common for the name someone is known by to be coined by someone else than it is for that person to come up with it themselves.
Hence Widowmaker. When he first appeared, Widowmaker was nameless, a villain who quickly established himself in the activity that gave him his name. He didn’t mess around. He simply went about killing people, whatever targets he chose for whatever reasons he needed. He transitioned to killing superheroes when they started pursuing him, which didn’t take that long. He didn’t seem to notice.
Even other villains started distancing themselves from him, especially when he made it clear that he preferred it that way by killing them, too.
He was the villain of villains.
Not surprisingly, the Council made him a priority, and maybe Justin Proper made too fine a point of it personally, because his squire the Witch Doctor got caught up in it, and in the midst of the hunt lost her life, in a very quick moment, which to Widowmaker was just another kill, and to the world just another number in his running tally, but to Ellen Encanto, the Witch Doctor, a fairly significant moment.
She came back in a burst of flame, echoing the death Widowmaker had given her, fiery and cruel, and incredibly painful, and the first thing she had on her mind was revenge. She began to realize right away how little she’d understood what she’d been doing, the more she obsessed over retribution.
She could no longer justify allowing Widowmaker to live. That was the crucial mistake. Most superheroes didn’t even register it as a mistake, allowing a villain to live, even Widowmaker, because most of them were essentially harmless, eccentrics with elaborate schemes of world domination that never amounted to anything, an endless series of failures where ordinary men with armies had failed before them, too, so that their ambitions were more parody than a chance of success, a true threat.
Widowmaker was different, more like a serial killer with real power, but no one realized it at the time, during the long series of gruesome murders, not even Encanto, who was too busy admiring her own skills and trying to please Justin Proper and the rest of the Council, the one entity that should have been entrusted to look beyond blind spots and recognize Widowmaker for the true evil he was.
Yet the whole thing was a failure that had resulted in tragedy, and the first thing the Witch Doctor discovered upon returning to the world of the living was that not only was it continuing, but that not a damn thing had been done to curtail it. Widowmaker was still on the prowl.
That was when she made her decision, to circumvent the system and take care of the problem on her own, with a new set of rules, ones that addressed Widowmaker directly. That’s why she was pleased to have encountered the Biker first, so that she might begin to understand what was necessary, and create an alliance that could make it possible. She went to each of the squires next, including Bruin, Orion’s Belt, the Red Dean, the Quiet Man, and Meme, the lynchpin as she considered him, the one who would ensure that it all stuck together.
She didn’t trust Justin Proper anymore. She ignored him and moved on.
Her goal was the death of Widowmaker, nothing more and nothing less. If she accomplished that, she expected that many other things would change. She wasn’t going to stick around to find out.
With that in mind, she kept mostly to herself, which only made her return more mysterious, because even her alliance only knew that she had returned and that she had the one goal, which anyone could have guessed upon seeing her. She was no longer messing around.
Hence Widowmaker. When he first appeared, Widowmaker was nameless, a villain who quickly established himself in the activity that gave him his name. He didn’t mess around. He simply went about killing people, whatever targets he chose for whatever reasons he needed. He transitioned to killing superheroes when they started pursuing him, which didn’t take that long. He didn’t seem to notice.
Even other villains started distancing themselves from him, especially when he made it clear that he preferred it that way by killing them, too.
He was the villain of villains.
Not surprisingly, the Council made him a priority, and maybe Justin Proper made too fine a point of it personally, because his squire the Witch Doctor got caught up in it, and in the midst of the hunt lost her life, in a very quick moment, which to Widowmaker was just another kill, and to the world just another number in his running tally, but to Ellen Encanto, the Witch Doctor, a fairly significant moment.
She came back in a burst of flame, echoing the death Widowmaker had given her, fiery and cruel, and incredibly painful, and the first thing she had on her mind was revenge. She began to realize right away how little she’d understood what she’d been doing, the more she obsessed over retribution.
She could no longer justify allowing Widowmaker to live. That was the crucial mistake. Most superheroes didn’t even register it as a mistake, allowing a villain to live, even Widowmaker, because most of them were essentially harmless, eccentrics with elaborate schemes of world domination that never amounted to anything, an endless series of failures where ordinary men with armies had failed before them, too, so that their ambitions were more parody than a chance of success, a true threat.
Widowmaker was different, more like a serial killer with real power, but no one realized it at the time, during the long series of gruesome murders, not even Encanto, who was too busy admiring her own skills and trying to please Justin Proper and the rest of the Council, the one entity that should have been entrusted to look beyond blind spots and recognize Widowmaker for the true evil he was.
Yet the whole thing was a failure that had resulted in tragedy, and the first thing the Witch Doctor discovered upon returning to the world of the living was that not only was it continuing, but that not a damn thing had been done to curtail it. Widowmaker was still on the prowl.
That was when she made her decision, to circumvent the system and take care of the problem on her own, with a new set of rules, ones that addressed Widowmaker directly. That’s why she was pleased to have encountered the Biker first, so that she might begin to understand what was necessary, and create an alliance that could make it possible. She went to each of the squires next, including Bruin, Orion’s Belt, the Red Dean, the Quiet Man, and Meme, the lynchpin as she considered him, the one who would ensure that it all stuck together.
She didn’t trust Justin Proper anymore. She ignored him and moved on.
Her goal was the death of Widowmaker, nothing more and nothing less. If she accomplished that, she expected that many other things would change. She wasn’t going to stick around to find out.
With that in mind, she kept mostly to herself, which only made her return more mysterious, because even her alliance only knew that she had returned and that she had the one goal, which anyone could have guessed upon seeing her. She was no longer messing around.
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