Of Heroes And Villains

In which a superhero meets his match, masks are uncovered and a mad scientist just tries to get some mad science-ing done without getting distracted by the antics of her magical minion.

Fanart by the talented Ian Samson, creator of City of Reality and artist of The Wotch


Shade’s eyes were closed, her breaths measured and even as blood rushed into her head.

She pushed herself up further, splaying her fingers and lifting her hands until only her fingertips touched the ground. She gritted her teeth, the weight becoming highly uncomfortable. She curled her pinkies, and then her thumb, until she was precariously balanced on only two fingers on each hand.

There was the slurp of someone sipping through a straw.

Kara opened one eye. Diane was upside down, sitting in the Lotus position and watching her with fascination. Kara was certain that if she could digest popcorn, she’d be eating that; instead, she was holding a smoothie.

“And you train like this every day?”

“Have to,” Kara gritted out, holding the headstand.

“And you used to do it shirtless?” There was a gleam in her eyes that Kara recognized as lust. Kara huffed, amused.

She couldn’t quite train shirtless anymore; her breasts jiggled too much for it and it got downright painful sometimes. So she was wearing a sports bra.

“Damn,” Diane whispered. “And I missed it. Oh well. This is awesome, too.” She waved her hand regally. “Do continue.”

Shade laughed and almost lost her balance, quickly dropping into a crouch with a backflip.

“I could train you, you know.”

Diane crinkled her nose as if she’d just heard blasphemy. “Hello? Plantilicious badass here.”

“Didn’t help you against Amethyst,” Kara said in a low voice. Diane was powerful, no doubt, but she was so very weak once someone actually closed in on her. Even Shade herself could have killed her easily, had she actually used the blades in their second encounter. It didn’t matter that Kara knew, intellectually, that Diane was more powerful than her. The thought of Diane’s vulnerability was driving her out of her mind with worry. She’d watched her almost die twice now. Hell, saving her had almost killed Shade twice.

If it were up to Kara, Diane would just stay in her mansion forever. Possibly enfolded in one of those safety bubble wraps.

“Point,” Diane conceded, gnawing on the straw of her drink. “But I’m pretty sure I would collapse after the second push-up. Quite frankly, it looks hard, and hard work and me are two things that just don’t mix. Plus, all this?” She gestured to her body. “And martial arts? The world would not be able to handle it.”

“And so humble, too.”

“Humility would be lying, Shade.” She fluttered her eyelashes. “And lying is wrong. See? I’m reforming my evil ways.”

The light started flickering and Shade tilted her head up, frowning. Diane craned her neck as well. “Forgot to pay the electric bill?”

“Silent alarm,” Shade said and strode out of the training room to her computer, Diane scrambling to keep up with her.

“You know this room looks a little crazy, yeah?”

Shade tilted her head quizzically. She hadn’t even thought about dodging the threads running from wall to wall, connecting the sparse leads to her sister’s murderer, just doing it on instinct. She supposed from an outsider’s perspective it could look a little… obsessed.

But Shade was obsessed. Dedicated. That wasn’t a bad thing. Her sister deserved someone who cared that she was dead.

So she shrugged. “A certain estrangement with reality is obligatory for all heroes,” she said.

Diane choked on a laugh and Shade swiveled in her chair toward the computer screens with a grin. The silent alarm was more of a phone ringing, in case she didn’t have her earpiece in. Shade had only ever shared her contact info with the Chief of the Paragon police department if she, specifically, was ever needed to take a statement or something like that.

Although that wasn’t quite true anymore. She’d also shared it with a certain Captain during a very drunken night which, in retrospect, had been quite… fun. Kara thought that maybe she wouldn’t mind doing it again, and wasn’t that an absurd thought to have. Two months ago she’d have set herself on fire before voluntarily spending time in David’s presence.

Of course, two months ago a lot of things had been different.

She tapped a button and saw a screen pop up with the image of the Captain, who grinned wildly at her. From the angle she’d guess that he was talking to her through a holo-communicator strapped to his wrist, as many heroes wore it. “Hey bro! Have been trying to reach you. I was already half-convinced you’d given me a fake number.”

“I’m sure you’re used to getting those,” Shade replied wryly, lips twitching in amusement. “So I thought I’d do the unexpected.”

David chuckled, laugh lines crinkling. “So, dude, apparently we have a villain at our hands and could use your hand. You in?”

Shade tilted her head, gaze straying to Diane who was leaning against the doorframe with crossed arms, watching the exchange with interest. “I’m…busy,” she said haltingly, even though she did kind of want to go. After the disaster at the hospital she longed to do something heroic.

The Captain’s brows furrowed. “Could be serious, man.”

Diane rolled her eyes and made a vague hand gesture that Shade chose to interpret as Go.

“All right. Coordinates?”

The Captain sent him an address in Faultline; he knew the area. Once the bustling heart of the city it had the misfortune of being a frequent target of villains. Iconic landmarks could only be destroyed so many times before people tired of rebuilding them. After its latest destruction at the hands of Avalanche, the district was now in ruins, with little to no efforts to restore it to its former glory. The skyscrapers stood crooked and broken, with deep canyons creating rifts between the streets.

It was a popular location for villain lairs due to its abandoned nature.

“All right, I’ll be right there.”

The screen went black and Diane sauntered up to him. “You didn’t even ask what that was about.”

Shade tilted her head back, frowning. “When another hero calls for help, you just help.”

She hummed thoughtfully. Then she shrugged. “All right, let’s do this.”

“Huh?”

“What, did you think I’m letting you go alone?”

“There’ll be heroes there, Diane…”

“Yes,” she drawled. “And Amelia is out there. You didn’t hear what she threatened to do to you if I ever left her. I am not letting you out of my sight.”


***


David watched Amethyst Star out of the corner of his eyes.

She was standing in a deceptively casual pose, staring off into the distance at nothing in particular as they waited for Shade to arrive. But there was a tension radiating off of her that he found disquieting. That it was paired with a small vacant smile didn’t help matters.

Amethyst was hurting, everyone could see it, but no one could find the right words to get through to her, least of all David who always ended up sounding like an idiot even to his own ears.

Yes, maybe he wasn’t the sharpest bulb in the shed, but he wasn’t dumb.

For one thing, he didn’t believe for a second that Shade’s “magical accident” had been an accident. Not when, after he told her his real name, the brutal vigilante had blushed and immediately replied with a woman’s name.

Shade always had tension running through him, like he was poised to snap any second, just like Amethyst was now. When he’d met her in her new body, that tension had just been gone. She hadn’t struck the Captain as particularly happy – hence the epic night out drinking – but she hadn’t seemed like she was about to coldly start snapping necks either, a vibe that old Shade had given off far too often. There was, after all, a reason most of the hero community avoided him.

Whatever. David didn’t judge. His father had taught him that much.

It occurred to David that he’d neglected to mention Shade’s new body situation to Amethyst.

“Hey, Amethyst, something I forgot to tell you…”

She turned her head toward him with an eerily slow motion.

A familiar swirl of shadows materialized not far from them, and a tall, short-haired woman stepped out of them. Shade still hadn’t made a new costume apparently; she was wearing mostly civilian clothing, with combat boots and only a domino mask covering her face.

Amethyst’s knuckles went white.

Shade froze.

“Yeeeah, that,” David said apologetically. “Sorry, completely slipped my mind.” Mostly because he’d been distracted with being entirely too pleased with himself for finally being able to help Amethyst.

“You.” Amethyst’s voice was flat and cold. “I knew it. I fucking knew it.”

David felt like he was missing something. Sadly, it was a feeling he got a lot.

Shade’s mouth opened and closed soundlessly. Eventually, she seemed to settle on. “I’m sorry I dislocated your shoulder.”

“Wait, what?”

Amethyst’s piercing gaze swung to David at his startled outburst. “Yes, Shade, why don’t you tell the Captain what you’ve done?”

Shade said nothing.

“Shade attacked me,” Amethyst drawled. “To help a villain escape.”

David laughed, then. That was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. Few heroes had murderous contempt for villains quite as much as Shade did.

Shade didn’t contradict her.

David’s laughter trailed off.

“Are you serious?”

Shade shrugged miserably. “Diane’s different,” she said in a soft voice. “She’s trying to change.”

The ground around Amethyst’s feet suddenly splintered, a purple glow pulsing between the fissures. “Villains don’t change,” she hissed, and her green eyes burned. “They lie.”

Shade hesitantly took a step toward her, then hastily retreated when the ground to her feet started cracking, too. “I used to think that, but…”

“But nothing! You’re trying to change her? She’s not the one being changed. Just look at yourself! Did she do this to you?”

Shade looked stricken.

“What else have you done? Helped commit any crimes lately?”

Shade mutely shook her head, taking a step backward.

Amethyst had almost been screaming. But now her voice dropped to little more than a whisper.

“I trusted you.”

And then some light in her eyes just went out.

The ground started shaking.


***


When stars die, their remains give birth to black holes, tearing everything in the vicinity into the abyss.

A new perfect 10 was born that day.

And her name was Event Horizon.