Tragedy: Act Two, Scene Four
May 26th, 2013
Act Two, Scene Four
Falling asleep helped. By the morning Catherine still felt strained and hollow, but the emotional impact had been shifted out of the active range.
She needed to talk to someone. She ran down her short list of someones. Her brother? He had grieving of his own to get through. Her father? No. Really, she couldn’t talk to family. They were too close. Elgolian? He’d be useless. Either he’d be in exaggerated agonies of grief, or ignore it completely, whatever fitted his role best. Jay? He had enough problems. Mercy?
She tried to imagine what the clash between her, now, and Mercy’s limitless energy would be.
I need to talk to someone who isn’t from Novapest.
That came suddenly, and she realized it was true. Catherine was very logical. She knew she was very logical. And so she had to talk to someone who was not in any way involved with killing people for a living.
She smiled bitterly. Well, there was someone she could talk to who she knew didn’t kill people for a living.
Approximately an hour later, her dressing and breakfasting and research done, she opened Barry’s profile. He was online.
She opened up a conversation window.
black_hole_minima: Hello, Smithson.
He paused. Perhaps he was distracted?
genericallybenevolent: ???
black_hole_minima: Barry
black_hole_minima: I’m not actually that stupid.
black_hole_minima: The odds that the world’s greatest superhero team would not have someone spying on me in case I provoked a diplomatic incident on US soil were approximately zero.
black_hole_minima: Since I can do that by, say, getting kidnapped.
black_hole_minima: M-tech cloaks don’t work in the rain so a human would have to follow me that day, and when you ran off Smithson arrived.
Ah, genericallybenevolent was typing.
black_hole_minima: Also I know what your father’s face looks like even if you’re going by your maternal grandmother’s maiden name.
genericallybenevolent: So is there something you wanted to talk about, or do you just want to gloat?
Catherine stared at it.
She knew there was an answer, hated the answer, and pushed it out of her mind.
black_hole_minima: Apparently the second.
black_hole_minima: Uh, I felt I should tell you your cover is blown?
black_hole_minima: Blown for me, at least. I don’t assume the other students knew.
black_hole_minima: Obviously my father already knew, but only because he knows everything.
Everything he doesn’t want to not know.
genericallybenevolent: And he didn’t tell you?
Catherine paused to consider.
black_hole_minima: Either he didn’t want to worry me, or it was a test.
genericallybenevolent: Ah.
genericallybenevolent: If it helps, I wasn’t actually sent to this college to spy on you.
genericallybenevolent: There’s just a shortage of places that are all three of “high-quality education, understanding about odd backstories, good laws for capes.”
Catherine was trying to go through all the considerations for why they’d chosen it. She had not consciously been thinking ‘ah, a wonderful place for me to be a supervillain...’
black_hole_minima: Great minds think alike, you mean?
genericallybenevolent: Something something aesthetic parallels between heroes and villains something something.
Tell me about it.
black_hole_minima: You need to learn how to shoot.
genericallybenevolent: You need armor that stands up to fists.
She smiled at the keyboard.
black_hole_minima: Anyway I won’t ‘reveal your secret identity to your family’s enemies.’”
There was a pause. She imagined him writing a response, deleting it, and then writing it again. His eventual response was:
genericallybenevolent: ... Doesn’t that require performing some sort of brain surgery on yourself?
black_hole_minima: I only tasered you once! That doesn’t make me a supervillain.
genericallybenevolent: You’re a mafia princess being followed around by a psychotic elf.
black_hole_minima: A, I’m not a mafia princess, I’m a princess princess. I have a floofy dress and everything.
black_hole_minima: Admittedly I never wear it but that’s a minor detail.
black_hole_minima: B, Elgolian is a perfectly normal idealist. If he’s psychotic, he isn’t an elf. By admitting he’s an elf, you concede that he’s sane, but if you deny his sanity, you also remove the only explanation for him being an elf.
genericallybenevolent: Type III awakening who fixated on elves and so ended up with elf-related superpowers. His elfy powers are real, the way vampires can still be staked and the Silver Sorceress has hit points, but his elfy backstory is false. Right?
black_hole_minima: Probably, unless there’s an army of evil faeries out there.
black_hole_minima: But you shouldn’t tell him that. It’s rude.
genericallybenevolent: You have a supervillain who is following you around murdering people when you tell him to.
black_hole_minima: Like the Secret Service and the Swiss Guard?
genericallybenevolent: The Pope’s guards don’t have vorpal cars.
She laughed.
black_hole_minima: Have you ever checked?
black_hole_minima: Look, I’m not a supervillain, I’m a poly-sci major. The worst crime I’ve ever committed on US soil was using nonlethal force to evade arrest so I wouldn’t miss my flight. Supervillain is a profession. There are a lot of people who I like who are supervillains! I’m related to some of them! I am not a supervillain and not ever going to be.
genericallybenevolent: You’re serious.
black_hole_minima: Absolutely.
genericallybenevolent: ... All right.
genericallybenevolent: At this point I have to go, though.
For a moment she felt better, and then the conversation ended and the memories returned.