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wingedcat13 · 2 years

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Synovus: Villains Never Retire

[As requested, an addition to the first story about Synovus and Menace - this is a followup that should be readable on it's own, but you can check out the first installment (and next) here! If you'd prefer to read on Ao3, you can also check out this story there. This installment was inspired by the prompt: "You’re a retired villain. You’ve been enjoying your peaceful life, but now a bunch of new villains are terrorizing your land, and the heroes seem powerless against them. So you take up the mantle once again. After all, if you want someone properly killed, do it yourself." Due to length, this one has been cut into two three parts. This portion alone is about even with the first installation, so it's still chunky.]

There are sirens wailing, somewhere. The few who have not been cut off already, cut silent as the screams of the living have been, one by one and in waves. The hush that should follow is denied by the high pitched whining of machinery and the sound of burning things. There are sparks, and pops. Something like words worn smooth in the background, run over so many times that they're part of these floorboards that are now cracking and failing, released again at the moment of unmaking.

You focus on the sounds, because you cannot see the devastation. You focus on the sounds, because you cannot smell the burning. You focus on the sounds, because if something does not force you to confront it, you do not know how fast or far away you would be running.

You are 90% sure this is not what was advertised, when you first said you were planning on retiring.

---

You honestly hadn't been sure whether your quasi-apprentice would be disappointed or thrilled that you were stepping back from the Villain scene.

On the one hand, Menace had only just made her debut as your shadow. Some of the jokes suggested that was literal, given your abilities and the equally dark all-covering clothing you both wore. (Hers was probably more fashionable, but yours had a cape.)

Anyway, the point was, you'd only taken her to a few meetings and negotiations with other villains so far.

But on the other hand, when not under her (custom designed and hand made, thank you) helmet, Alexandria was still a hero's daughter. Just the one, these days, since Legionnaire had disappeared from the super-map, and admittedly you and Athena had a weird ceasefire agreement ever since you'd more or less adopted her daughter, but you'd gone 'round the carousel of morality too many times to expect either of them to suddenly become accepting of things like mass casualty events.

So you hadn't done any for a while. And you'd realized that it was... kind of nice?

"It's up to you, boss." Oflok (Our Fair Lady Of the Kitchen) had told you, shrugging as she cooked a single serving's worth of rice for you at three in the morning.

"I had been thinking about asking for a vacation." Doll had admitted, even as the two of you scraped barnacles off the underwater docking bay doors.

"So long as you don't kick me out!" Rosie had laughed, as though you could afford to lose your head gardener and only source of self-sustained food supply in the event of an apocalypse.

You wound up telling Alexandria while she was in the middle of some exercises you'd designed for her - which is why you weren't surprised when a heavy weight clattered to the floor from an unreasonable height.

"Wait, what?" She demanded, floating approximately three times her height off the floor.

You looked up from your Rubik's cube, half-solved. "Retirement." You said casually, letting your helmet handle keeping the thread of unease private. Flight and super strength were recent arrivals, but super hearing hadn't made an appearance in Alexandria's arsenal. Yet.

"Can you even do that?" Alexandria asked, floating down a little to hover closer to eye level with you. Given you were propped at the top of a climbing wall, that still left her airborne.

You nodded your approval at her increasing level of control, and held up a hand, flat with the palm down, to wiggle as answer to the question. "Sort of. We do communicate, even if we don't have an overarching governance. Retiring is just... putting up a 'do not disturb' sign. Setting your status to offline forever."

The past few months had been a constant education in villain politics and etiquette - namely, the lack of organization in either - so your student caught on pretty quick.

"So.. you get a free pass to attack anyone who shows up, and they know they can come talk to you or ask you for things at their own risk?"

"Correct." You spun the cube, promptly undoing all of your progress. "So long as no one asks me for another fucking submarine, I'll probably let them visit."

A grin showed that Alexandria remembered her field debut very well. After the debacle with a fire-villain named Igneous (he ordered a submarine from you, then tried to kill you, and wound up dead instead) there'd been a mini-bidding war over who would actually buy the damn thing. Igneous's official rival, another villain named Heathen, had tried to demand it for free as 'retribution' for your unsanctioned murder of Igneous.

So, once Alexandria's super strength had manifested, you'd had an idea.

Heathen had his submarine. It was just lodged on top of his mountain fortress, where it would be just as useful to him as it had been to Igneous.

Idiot.

"It could be cool." Alexandria shrugged, "You do you. Whatever you want."

You had nodded solemnly, as though those words were sacred. And then you'd left, to deliver your retirement notices by hand to the villains that mattered.

The rest could read it on your Twitter feed like any other civilian.

---

"You retired?" The skeptical question, half a demand, came from Athena when she landed on your balcony, having launched herself out of the ocean. "Via Twitter?"

You thought that the arc of water she made when she did that was very pretty, and so you made sure to be there every time she came to visit. You pretended it was because you are protective of your island. Anyone who pointed out those things are not mutually exclusive would've just gotten ignored.

"Shockingly, there was no pension plan." You shook your head in mock disappointment. "I might have to go rummaging through my old friends' accounts."

Athena gave a pointed glance at the rest of your private island, then sighed. "If you find a spare retirement package while you're... rummaging." She said dryly, "Toss it over to our side of the fence, would you?"

At first, you had cackled. Then you'd noticed the tightness around her mouth, and checked to see how far off Alexandria was. Still missing - you were fairly sure she was still talking to Rosie about some flower she wanted to try and grow.

And yes, you and Athena had tried to kill each other before this weird co-parenting schtick. But she'd come to you, since Alexandria had started living here. Quietly, to ask what signs she had missed, and how to do better.

You still didn't like each other, but you did respect that.

So you'd sighed, and leaned against the railing. "I did send off that last work crew." You'd said idly. "So I suppose we are currently below capacity."

Athena raised a brow at you - at least, you were pretty sure, hard to tell with her mask covering everything from her cheekbones up - and gave you a wary look. "Is something wrong with Alexandria?"

Once, there'd been a hitch between the syllables of that name. Now, it was fluid. Habitual. You felt a funny warm feeling at that and promptly ignored it.

"She's a transgender teenager with superpowers." You said instead, flicking your hands for emphasis. "What the hell does that have to do with anything."

Athena exhaled, and lifted a hand in a silent half-apology. "I just assumed - if you were inviting me to live here, perhaps it was because..."

She fell silent, staring longingly through the glass doors into what is alternatively called 'the brunch room' and 'the dungeon' depending on who you ask. You've never actually kept captives there, but your minions like to play different board games. The name is supposed to be related.

One of the board games must have been left out, because Athena's gaze found it, and softened. "Really?" She asked you, amused. "Monopoly?"

You realized, belatedly, that Athena had probably wanted to know if Alexandria missed her.

"Obviously." You snarked in return, lifting your chin. "It instills anti-capitalist values, destroys friendships, and encourages subterfuge and cheating. Clearly the best game for a villain to play."

"Retired." Athena corrected you.

"Yeah." You sighed again. "Retired villain."

---

You'd insisted that Alexandria still spend some time on the mainland. She didn't have many friends, but you knew what life was like when you were cooped up somewhere, regardless of how high speed the internet connection was or how good the private Oflok.

Sometimes, you'd even gone with her. In your civilian guise, of course. At least, one of them.

"That's - wow." She'd said, when you came out of the changing area of the 'lair' you kept on the mainland.

(You refused to call it a closet. There were too many closet jokes in your past, present, or future for you to willing walk into any of them. Or out of them. Damn it.)

You'd shrugged, looking down, and twirled as though that would have much of an effect in what was effectively nondescript clothing. Pants. A shirt. Blazer. Scarf. Hair actually brushed instead of in whatever shape it had gotten half-stuck in while in your helmet.

"No, really, you - I don't know how you go from... from that to just. A normal person." Alexandria had studied you as though she were taking notes. It made you vaguely uncomfortable.

"I'm always a person." You'd corrected her. "And never 'normal,' so your analysis is flawed. Also, today I am Henry."

"Alright Henry." Alexandria had laughed, recognizing the name as one of the main characters in the last movie you'd been to see together - and this, too, had easily become a ritual, since you have only ever been Synovus. "Let's go see another shitty movie."

Later, she'd suggested that, for her birthday, you should go out to eat on the mainland. Maybe she could invite a guest?

Intrigued, you had agreed.

---

The guest turned out to be Athena.

Of course, neither of you were aware of that until you met up outside the restaurant. You'd pestered Alexandria about her 'friend' in all the ways you knew to be good-naturedly teasing, and she'd continued to play coy in a way that made you hope she was growing more confident. For all you knew, Athena had done the same.

But, staring at each other between some freshly-misted hedges, you had found you weren't sure why you were balking.

Neither of you were in costume. She was in a nice, simple sheath dress with light adornment. Her hair was loose - and even, which meant it had finally grown back out after you'd given her an unasked-for haircut a while back. You were pretty sure those sandals were the same as the ones she wore while fighting though.

"Even here." Athena had muttered, staring at you, "You have to have a cape."

You'd put your nose up on reflex, half curtseying, half bowing to her in your own dress for the evening. It had a capelet you'd liked the feel of, and if its dark material reminded her of your costume, well. So be it.

"All the better to sweep your daughter away in." You'd said with a smile that showed your teeth, lifting the loose cloth as though to hide your face, Dracula-style.

"Oh look." Alexandria said, holding up the reservation box. "It's vibrating. I think that means our table is ready."

You had picked your way through an appetizer that was awkwardly shared. If there was a possibility you and Athena would reach for the same portion, you both refused to even attempt it. Alexandria, at least, had no such compunctions, and devoured anything you two didn't lay claim to fast enough.

"So...." Athena had eventually offered, as a lead-in that immediately died. She frowned at you. "I don't know what to call you."

A number of responses had come to mind. Most were not appropriate for the setting, including your actual name. "Sy-bil." You picked at random. "Or just Sy, or Syn."

"I am not calling you Sin." Athena had said flatly, as Alexandria choked and coughed. "Sybil will work. And..." She hesitated, twirling her fork idly in her salad, "Shall I take that to mean I should use the... feminine forms of address for the evening?"

You wanted to respond flippantly, you really did. But Alexandria was beaming. "That would be appropriate." You said diplomatically. "And in return?"

Athena's eyes narrowed, just a fraction, before they widened again. "Ah. Feminine forms of address for me as well, which you may assume for the foreseeable future."

You weren't wearing your helmet, so the whole damn restaurant could probably see your blush and terrible attempt at hiding a smile. Stupid helmet. Always covering your facial expressions so you never learned how to actually hide them.

Alexandria sniffed. You passed her a packet of tissues from your bag.

"I actually meant your name," You responded casually, "Though I am grateful for the clarification, and will endeavor to remember it."

At this, Athena had actually stiffened. "Athena will be fine." She'd said, punctuating the sentence with a bite of salad so she couldn't be expected to continue.

Next to you, after clearing her nose, Alexandria had groaned, "Aw, mom, and we were doing so well."

"Athena it is." You had agreed, inclining your head, because it was Alexandria's birthday, and you understood wanting to keep a part of yourself away from the world. Or even just your unexpected dinner partner.

You were fairly certain neither of them could tell that it had actually hurt.

To both of your credit, you made it all the way to the dessert course before the violence broke out.

The violence wasn't even at your table. It was further down the long row of booths, a mild commotion. Still, Athena's eyes narrowed at you, and she placed one hand on her bag.

"What did you do?" She demanded, and for once, her gaze traded off between you and Alexandria.

"Nothing!" Alexandria had protested immediately.

"Ordered a brownie." You had replied, leaning over to see what was going on. "Perhaps it was too 'sinfully succulent' for the wait staff-"

(Yes. You had ordered it because of the pun. Alexandria had snickered.)

"- or, ah, no. Wrong direction. Something out of the windows?" You'd straightened in your seat, indicating the window side of your table where you'd all left the blinds down to keep out the setting sun.

Athena had moved towards the cover on the blinds.

She never quite reached them.

When you woke up, you hadn't been sure how much time had passed. The ringing in your ears had suggested a few minutes. The fatigue pressing down on you had suggested much longer.

Or maybe that wasn't fatigue. Something solid, and heavy. Blocks of some kind...? Ah, concrete, your old nemesis, must be. Except it was on your skin, and something about that wasn't right. Above you was cracked, exposed scaffolding, a roof about to fold inwards -

Below you, something had squirmed.

"Menace," You gasped, suddenly aware again of your surroundings. Dinner. Alexandria. Athena. You twisted around, and were relieved to see that Alexandria's eyes were open and alert.

"Synovus? What - Mom!"

You had experience being thrown by people with super strength, which was probably all that had saved you from worse injuries when Alexandria had panicked and shoved you. Nothing broke, but you were pretty sure that shoulder was going to be purple for a while.

And honestly, you didn't blame her. All you could see of Athena, at the moment, was an arm coated in gray dust.

As soon as your breathing had returned, you had moved back to help your panicked protégé move rubble. But this wasn't the first destroyed room you'd ever been in, and Athena wasn't your mother, so you had noticed a few things Alexandria had missed.

For one - no one else was moving yet. All three of you had super-something, and you'd reflexively shoved Alexandria behind you. Potential outcomes: that blast had been enough to kill everyone else, or you three had just recovered first.

Two - no sirens yet. You'd heard Alexandria, so your hearing wasn't shot entirely. That meant either the response force wasn't on its way, or it wasn't coming. Or it was already here.

Three - the wall was now open to the street, and the street was occupied. Three individuals, standing upright. One of them was pointing at you.

You had been a villain much too long not to know what that meant.

At this distance, with the lighting being what it was, you couldn't tell if they were costumed. Admittedly, that didn't mean as much as it once had, the costume was more of a thing than a requirement. But you were without yours, and so was Athena, and so was Alexandria. If you were lucky, they hadn't seen your faces.

"Get her to Oflok." You told Alexandria quietly, ducking so that you were blocking her from view.

Alexandria had looked up, too shocked to cry, and between you and her parents she also knew what this scenario meant. "You don't have a costume." She whispered.

You smiled, but it wasn't the reassuring warmth of a hero's smile. It was your coldest, when the shadows were already beginning to fill your eyes. "I do not need one."

When you stood, and turned, the shadows fled the rubble to coalesce around you. They coated your limbs, formed the familiar shape of your helmet over your head. You were still exposed - this took a lot of energy, and you didn't have any of the padding or armoring you usually did - but not visible in the sense of identifiable as a civilian.

You were both very visible and very identifiable to the three individuals you were stalking towards.

"Lord Synovus." One of the three called, and it was a little jarring, to be identified by that moniker when you were in the other, but it didn't matter much right this moment. "Having a lovely evening?"

You briefly considered tearing them to pieces where they stood. "I'm about to." You called cheerily, letting the implication of an unhinged threat carry.

These three were either too stupid or disrespectful to heed that warning.

"You are welcome to join us, of course." A different one spoke. This one had white hair. You immediately ignored everything else about them, and mentally designated them White. "We are happy to indulge our elders."

"Is that your family?" The first speaker asked, sounding vaguely delighted. They were in a costume, one that was mostly blue. Okay, Blue it was. "Oh my, is that why you retired? Going domestic?"

This was going to be all over the fucking villain gossip vine. But that was a problem for future Synovus. Current Synovus needed to make sure those individuals weren't identified as Athena and Mercury/Menace.

You weren't above using silences to prove your points for you, but you could tell these three would just build off of each other if you didn't intervene.

"If you believe retirement has softened me." You said softly, ominous as the shadows stirred at your feet. "I invite you to test that assumption."

Something finally broke through to them about that. The third one spoke, the one who had been pointing. There was something about their eyes that you didn't like. "By your own admission, Synovus, this is not your territory anymore. We are within our rights."

You immediately pegged that one as the ringleader. "Oh, I've no intention of stopping a pack of puppies from romping." You said, the false cheer filling your voice again. "You can and will do as you like - but as you have so assiduously pointed out, I am retired. And you, aware or not, have attacked my person."

You are still deciding how to begin when the Ringleader steps back. "Time to go."

"There are three of us and one of him." Blue protested. "We can-"

"Time. To go." Ringleader says pointedly, moving rapidly away. "Synovus is stalling. I can't see the reason. We're leaving."

On a hunch, you throw a spike of shadow at them. You are unsurprised when Ringleader dodges neatly. "A clairvoyant." You identify with disdain. "And you two? Ice or Lightning?"

"Come and find out." Blue hissed, though White was the one who tried to swing at you - only to find Ringleader clutching their wrist.

"Now." You hear Ringleader say, before they raise their voice. “Is there anything I can say to make you leave?”

Blue hadn’t taken their eyes off of you. Now, they cracked their knuckles, and spread their hands as fire sparked to life and curled around them. "I'm no coward." They growled.

“So be it.” Ringleader said.

In the next heartbeat, Ringleader and White were gone. Teleportation? Ugh. But you’d deal with that later.

You smiled again, spreading your footing. "I would hate to disappoint."

---

When you finally get back to your island, you are exhausted. The dress you had liked so much before is smoke-soaked and starting to feel wrong, you'd lost one of your shoes, and despite all of the evening's violence there's still a feeling itching in your veins that wants more.

Still, the days when you could've just gone straight to your bedroom and forbidden anyone from disturbing you for a few hours are gone.

"Menace?" You call in a smoke-raspy voice, as you enter the small medical facility buried deep in the island's bunker. There are several beds here, in case more than one minion or work crew member gets injured on the job. Rosie and Oflok trade shifts when you don't have other medical staff on call.

Both of them are here now, and it's Oflok who holds up a hand to stop you while she inspects you. "Asleep for now." She answers, all business, prodding experimentally at your bruises.

Rosie is preparing a selection of pills for you, "She's in bed three. Athena is awake though. She only agreed to sit still until you got here, so -"

"I'll talk to her." You say tiredly, taking the small handful of pills and offered bottle of water. You down all of it before moving to the back corner, where they'd stashed Athena.

You find her sitting up, with her leg in a cast, and mad as hell.

"This is your fault." She hisses, turning the tablet one of your staff must've given her to show news reports. There's a nice, slow pan across the crater you'd left Blue in. They won't show Blue themselves - they were too injured for this particular news site, which you knew had some strict guidelines against gore - but they do give their name: Cobalt. "Because of you, those people are dead. And you killed that girl-"

You have a hand raised and your mouth open before you can catch yourself. The thunder of the fight still roars, and the pulse of it feels like something begging to be let out. It would be easy to hit her. A transfer of energy at its most basic. It would be easy to yell at her. Expulsion of these emotions as air into the space between you, to drown her out, to invite her to escalate or capitulate.

You bite your own hand instead and turn away. Surprised, Athena falls silent.

You close your eyes, and very gently press your forehead against the coolness of the wall. You think of the waves against the shores of your island. You think of Rosie when she's telling everyone about how well the garden is doing. You think of the way the shadows can feel like silk in your hands and the time you tried to braid them into your hair.

When you no longer want to punch something and scream, you do not turn around, but you do speak.

"I didn't kill them." You say it quietly enough it shouldn't wake anyone, but loud enough that Athena will hear you. "I hurt them. Badly. But they are not dead. Neither are the other two who were there."

The silence hums with anger.

"If you want to blame me for the deaths at the restaurant," You straighten, and do finally turn around to meet Athena's eyes, "Then I cannot stop you. I imagine it feels better than blaming yourself."

Athena's jaw works for a moment. It can't feel comfortable, with the bruising and swelling up one side. Between you, the newsreel keeps going. It's a quiet buzz that keeps this silence from deepening.

Finally, Athena looks down. She squeezes her eyes closed. "Thank you." She says, voice reluctant and raw with unshed tears. "For saving my daughter's life. And for mine."

You are prepared to leave it at that - but she looks up at you again, and there is still determination in her eyes, but it's no longer blind anger. "My name-" She clears her throat, starts again, "-my name is Minerva."

You don't really know what to say to that. So you just nod, "You're welcome to stay here until you're recovered, Minerva."

Neither of you says anything else as you stumble off to find your own place to sleep.

---

Cobalt was known for running with two other villains - Dymania and the Jester. Dymania would've been the one you dubbed Ringleader, while Jester was the one you've been calling White. Their combined gimmicks of fire, teleportation, and clairvoyance have made them difficult opponents for the lower level heroes who usually wind up dealing with them.

They're the first group to show up to try and claim what used to be your turf, but they won't be the last.

Cobalt, at least, is out of the equation for a while. It's theorized that Jester has some degree of emotional influence mixed in with her powers, but you're not convinced - people thought that about you too for a while, and you're just annoying.

Dymania is the undoubtedly the real threat. You don't know what type of clairvoyant they are, and no one else seems to either.

You spend the next morning reading all you can find on them, while soaking your shoulder and fielding messages from other villains who’ve also seen the news. Some of them just want to laugh at you. Some of them have genuine questions. Some express disgust that someone was stupid enough to attack you, a supervillain of significant renown, less than a year after you’d retired.

You respond to the first group with clips you’ve saved of their own public disgraces, the second with answers that have so many meanings as to be functionally useless unless you like them personally, and the third are invited to do something about it.

You send your replies the same way you receive the messages - scrawling them onto the papers that appear in bursts of flames, tying them to a pigeon’s or owl’s leg, or mostly, over email. You don’t even check your Twitter, just open it long enough to send, “stay off my fucking property, I’m retired, not dead.”

Around noon, Alexandria comes in to see you. She knocks on the doorframe. You open the door with your shadows so that you don’t have to get out of bed.

“Menace,” you call in greeting, voice stronger than it had been. “Welcome, to the innermost layer of my defenses, the pinnacle of my most secure bunker, impenetrable defenses of-“

“The window is open.” Alexandria says wearily, coming over to flop onto the extra space of your bed. While you gasp and feign sputtering disgust at such a lapse in security, she stares blankly at some of the news screens.

“I heard you and Mom talking last night.” She says abruptly, and you stop your act. Desperately, you rewind what you remember of that conversation. Mostly you just recall biting your own hand and something about a name.

Alexandria shifts, looking up at you. “Do you think… is that why they were so mad, sometimes?” She asks in a small voice. “Was it.. did they blame me, because it hurt too much to blame themselves?”

You fiddle with the tablet in your hands for a moment. “I’m not trained for this, Alexandria.” You warn her, “but… it is easier, to make other people responsible for our mistakes. It doesn’t solve the guilt, but it does let us avoid it, for a while. Sometimes that means we yell at things that aren’t the reason we’re upset, or pick fights with people we love.”

She isn’t meeting your eyes, and you don’t force the issue. When she glances at your shoulder, you nod and make a ‘come here’ gesture.

With that encouragement, she shuffles up the bed to sit beside you, and leans her head on your shoulder. Too late, you recall your bruises.

“Are you hurt?” Alexandria asks. She sits up again, worriedly turning to look at you, and in the process catches the loose fabric of your robe sleeve. It’s pulled down, revealing the nebula of bruises across your shoulder.

Any hope you have of passing it off as a wound from the fight ends at the expression in her eyes.

“Alexandria.”

“I did this.” She whispers, horrified.

“Alexandria.”

“When I saw mom, I - I panicked, and-“

“Alex.”

“- you - you threw yourself in front of me, you protected me, and I -“

You finally reach over, grabbing her chin and forcing her to look you in the face. “No.” You tell her firmly.

Her face is ashen. There are no tears yet, only horror. “I’m just like them.”

You sigh, and try to find a way to stop the spiral. “Oh? If you’re my parent, I think we have a few other problems on our hands.”

Alexandria finally does look at you at that, but you’re not sure this is much of an improvement. She yanks out of your grip, “Don’t.” She warns you in a warbling voice, “don’t pretend it’s any different.”

“Menace, it is different.” You sound annoyed, and try to curb that. “You are a child. They were adults. You are not responsible for me and my well-being. You didn’t hurt me because you were angry or frustrated, you were scared.”

You can’t tell if she wants to believe you or not.

“And,” You point out, though it’s ashes in your mouth, “this has happened once. If the difference in our power is not enough to convince you this is not the same, if the difference in scenario is not enough I convince you this is not the same, let it be a single event, and let that be the end of it.”

“And if it happens again?” Alexandria asks quietly.

You shrug with your good shoulder, “We deal with it then. I knew the risks, little menace. I’ve been fighting your parents for a long time.”

After a moment, she moves to your other side, tucking against you while she stares unseeing into the middle distance. “I never asked you how that started.” She murmurs, leaning her head on your shoulder. “Will you tell me?”

“It’s not much of a story.” You remark, “And your mother probably remembers it differently. But, if you insist -“

—-

You had all been fairly early in your careers - this was, what, twenty years ago? Sheesh - but it wasn’t your debuts. Actually, the territories you normally covered didn’t overlap just yet, with you only starting to stake your claim on a county in California and their stakes generally being further north, more over in Washington state.

You had still been trying to make a single gender stick in those days, and you’d decided that “Lord Synovus” sounded more imposing, so that was what you were known by. You’d heard of Legionnaire, but never met him. Athena, though she’d made a few appearances by then, was new to you.

But you were getting ahead of yourself - it started at the bank.

This was back when you still did most of the legwork for your own crimes. You had chosen this particular bank because it was near a cliff, which you planned to leap off of with your stolen loot once you escaped.

The first part of your plan had gone brilliantly. You’d changed into your costume in the bank’s employee’s only bathroom, cut the lights, and thrown shadows over all of the windows and the doors.

When you’d seen someone reaching for a panic button, you’d laughed. “Go ahead!” You’d invited them. “Really. Do it.”

You meant it, but something about your demeanor scared them. They didn’t press the button. So you had walked over, taken their trembling hand, and pressed it together.

“Always better to commit, my friend.” You’d told them.

“Pretty sure that’s not your friend, pal.” Had come the bravado-infused rebuttal from somewhere behind you.

(You learned later that he had given the building a new skylight, free of charge.)

“I’m not your pal, bro.” You’d responded fluidly, drawling as you released the citizen. “Pals know each other’s names, and I have no idea who you are.”

Sometimes you could get the heroes with that one, when they were puffed up on fame. Legionnaire - because yeah, you did know who he was, actually - didn’t take that bait.

“That’s a shame.” He’d said coolly, “How about I give you something to remember me by?”

And that had been the end of your lead-in banter. He’d thrown his shield at your head, you’d ducked and gone for a sucker punch. You focused on dodging and slipping around the furniture, while he used it as projectiles and occasionally cover.

When you’d worked your way back to where you had stashed a bag full of stolen credit, you’d said something about shadows and light - no, really, you didn’t remember, it wasn’t because it was cringey in hindsight, that would be ridiculous Alexandria - and dropped the window coverings to make good on your escape.

—

“Wait.” Alexandria says, back in the now, eyebrows furrowing, “I think I have heard this story, or at least part of it - didn’t you drop the bank on him?”

“Am I telling the story or not?” You asked, tugging a lock of her hair.

—

Okay, yes, you had dropped the bank on him. Part of it. You had weakened some of the structural integrity of the outer walls, and once you were through, you collapsed the way behind you.

You knew it wouldn’t stop Legionnaire, what with his super strength, but it would force him to choose between you or the civilians still inside, and nine times out of ten heroes chose the civilians. This time, Legionnaire didn’t prove to be an exception.

As for the civilians if he had chased you, well. They’d had the whole fight to crawl away while you were distracted, and if they hadn’t taken that opportunity, that was on them.

You had thought you were home free, as you made it to the cliff just like you planned. Then, a geyser of water, with water droplets that scattered and spun to a halt around a woman in a white chiton (luckily dry).

—-

“And then your mom punched me in the face.” You sigh.

Alexandria was losing the battle against her own grin. “Knocked you flat in one blow, as I’ve heard it.”

“Knocked me flat? Try broke my jaw. I couldn’t even banter as I scuttled away. It was humiliating.”

Alexandria giggles, “The way Dad told it, you were struck dumb by Mom’s beauty.”

“Since when has being dumb ever kept me from opening my mouth?” You ask her, quirking a brow. “Anyway, I thought you said you didn’t know how we’d all met.”

“They never said it was you.” She explained, shrugging. “Just a villain they encountered.”

You scoff, genuinely offended, but Alexandria pats your arm and says, “They were kinda distracted - they had come down that far south for their honeymoon.”

“Really?” You ask skeptically. “Weird place for a honeymoon.”

“I think they were still traveling.”

“Well, that would make more sense.” You concede.

“Mom says now that should’ve been an omen.” Alexandria remarks, watching an advertisement that’s come on while you’re talking. “You showing up like that. She’s said before that you have a habit of showing up around important events in her life - I wonder if she blames you for the divorce instead of me?”

You shift to stare down at her, “They got divorced?”

Self conscious, Alexandria gives you a tiny shrug. “A few months ago, from the sound of things. Dad’s not doing too well. Did you really give that villain a spiral fracture?”

The topic change comes as the news reel returns, this time with more updates on Cobalt’s condition, leaked by one of the surgeons, probably.

“Yeah.” You admit, frowning. “But some of those are bogus, or at least not from me. I only broke the left arm because they kept trying to choke me and shove fire in my face. If their right wrist is broken too, that’s on them.”

“How did you manage that?” She asks, sitting up and turning to look at you.

You shake a finger at her, scolding, “Don’t you deflect conversations about emotionally fraught topics into requests for physical violence demonstrations. I’ll have you know I’m immune to those.”

“Is that why it’s worked the past few times?” Your menace asks, wrinkling her nose.

“I may not have meant immune, I may have meant the other thing, but it doesn’t matter.” You declare, turning off the news. “Because we… have birthday celebrations unfinished. To the dungeon!”

—-

Your minions are just as fond of Alexandria at this point as they are of you. Ergo, of course they would’ve wanted to celebrate her birthday at home.

Jumping out from behind corners or blowing kazoos in the dark is generally a bad idea when dealing with super powered individuals though, so it wasn’t quite a surprise party in the most traditional sense. You were pretty sure Alexandria was okay with that.

Instead, most of the furniture in the dungeon/brunch room was cleared out of the way, so that everyone could fit inside without shuffling awkwardly along the walls or getting pushed out onto the balcony against their will (or over the balcony, but that had only happened the one time).

Oflok and Doll had made the cake, Rosie had filled the room with flowers and wove a crown of them into Alexandria's hair. Heather, your quartermaster, was hawking over a table full of presents in what you honestly thought might've been a draconic instinct. Theo, your usual tech guy, was already asleep on a lounger on the balcony, but you knew from personal experience he'd be awake whenever the cake was served.

And you'd made sure to have someone fetch Athena - Minerva - in her reluctantly-accepted wheelchair, to bring her down to the festivities too. You'd be lying if you said you weren't looking forward to showing her you were better at throwing a birthday party than she was.

After people had had time to do their rounds, and claim their favored chairs, you moved to the empty space at the center of the room, and pressed your hands together. The room grew quiet. Expectant.

"Menace." You address your protégé with a small flourish, indicating the space in front of you. "Alexandria. Stand before me."

Alexandria took the few steps without too much hesitancy, though she did seem a little nervous. You hoped that meant no one had told her about this particular tradition.

Drawing on all of your sense of gravitas, you spread your hands before you. "You have spent several months residing in my domain, and been welcome all throughout that time. While it makes my heart glad to extend such an invitation indefinitely, you have served me loyally, and such service deserves recognition. Therefore -"

You raised your voice a fraction, enough to draw in your crowd a little more. "- I offer you the chance to claim this house as your own. To make this no longer my sole realm, but one shared, as our time and goals have been."

Alexandria hitched in a breath, searching your face. "And the price?"

You were so proud of her it was ridiculous.

"There is but one cost." You said solemnly. "You must prove your skill. You must defeat me, here and now, and in so doing, make your claim unwavering."

Doubt flickers across her face, consternation, but you aren't finished. "I am inviting you, Alexandria, Menace, my student and my friend - to engage in a revolution."

You point past her, to where your minions have parted to reveal the screen and dance boards you'd sent Theo to set up earlier. As she turns, you declare, "A dance-dance revolution."

---

As per tradition, you do wind up winning.

While you are good at the game, you think this time you had a truly unfair advantage - Alexandria could hardly breathe to put up a fight because she was laughing so hard. Your minions heckled you mercilessly, you ignored all of your normal sense of grace or dignity, and after you had won, while you were crowing about an undefeated crown, someone pressed a pie tin filled with whipped cream into Alexandria's hands.

She got you square in the face.

"Ah," You'd remarked, doing your best to wipe the confection out of your eyes and only managing to smear it into your hair, "Like mother like daughter, I see. She's inherited your aim!" You call to Minerva, who looks aghast at the entire scene.

Rosie took it upon herself to console Alexandria after her 'loss' by explaining that this was a tradition, and that no one had beaten you yet - and then turned around to place a bet on who would win between Doll and Oflok, as they stepped up to the plates.

Once you were satisfied that the tournament was in full swing, you stepped back to find an actual paper towel. You wound up standing next to Minerva.

"I cannot believe," She said slowly, watching the current bout while you scraped your eyelids raw, "That after all of these years fighting you, all I had to do to defeat you. Was win at an arcade game."

You look up long enough to flash her a grin, and drop into the chair next to her. "What a shame you can't compete now." You lament, indicating her leg. "Perhaps one day, Lady Athena, we will end our dance."

Minerva snorts. You're both quiet for a moment, watching the rest of the party. It brings you the closest thing you've ever managed to peace, watching this family of yours - not that you'd ever say that out loud - engaging in the age-old tradition of attempting to out-ridiculous each other.

"I actually started playing the game as a form of physical therapy." You admit. You're not sure why. "After that time I got crushed by that mound of a hero - what was his name?"

Minerva gives you a look, raising a brow. "Thunderhawk?"

You groan, "Yes, that was it - not sure how I managed to forget, with how often he liked to shout it."

"He did favor... self-advertisement."

You roll your eyes, "He didn't know the root of his name either. I tried to educate him. It went right over his head."

As you sigh, Minerva considers something. "You do - or did - that a lot." She remarked. "Tried to lecture while mid-fight. I never did learn why you were spouting all those vocabulary words at us that time in Reno, though."

"Ah, that - I'd been hiding in the library down the street waiting for a hero to show. I got bored, so I decided to ransack the shelves for forbidden knowledge."

"And wound up with a dictionary?"

"Thesaurus, actually. I was saving the dictionary."

"Well, I'm glad we could save you from such a dreary fate as education."

You're almost sure that's a smile, and that she's more amused than disdainful.

Then something changes. She blinks, rapidly, and her hands tighten on the arms of the chair she's in.

"Minerva?" You prompt her quietly, offering a hand. You don't feel anything out of order, but perhaps her senses reach further than yours, particularly tied to water - when was the last time you'd had someone check the alarm sensors?

"Don't." She says in warning, and you immediately withdraw your hand. "I can't - I can't be in this room right now."

You nod. "Balcony or hall?" You keep your voice soft, angled so that you're talking only to Minerva, your body forming a barrier between her and the rest of the room.

"Balcony." She whispers.

You gesture to the wheelchair's handles, "May I?"

Once she nods, you swiftly rise, sweeping your chair out of the way with one leg while you take up your self-appointed duty as chauffeur.

"Really, you're quite wrong." You say cheerfully, at a loud enough volume that you could be overheard as you begin to forge a path towards the balcony doors. "I promise you, we're at exactly the right point for the Orion constellation to pass overhead, and I can prove it-"

You continue your spiel as you reach the doors, for all appearances intent on proving yourself right in a nonexistent debate on constellation patterns. Once you've made sure no one else is out here to overhear you, you fall silent.

The air out here is balmy rather than cool, but the sea breeze is still pleasant. You lean on the railing, head tilted back, and watch the stars.

You pass a few moments in silence before Minerva breaks.

"I don't understand." She says, and it's more like a cry, though for what you don't know. "How can you do this?"

You shift, resting your weight on one arm to look at her more directly, "I'm afraid you're going to have to be more specific."

Minerva gestures at the party behind you, "All of it! Yesterday we were caught up in a terrorist attack, last year we were trying to kill each other, and now we're - we're what, sharing cake?!?"

Her voice breaks, and you lower yourself to sit on the balcony, legs poking out through the breaks in its railing to swing in the open air. You give her a chance to continue, and she does.

"I thought - I thought that all of these people, you were manipulating them. That you had hunted them, found them at their lowest, so that you could - could make them love you, be loyal to you, so that you could use them. I thought that was what you wanted with Alexandria, what you wanted with me. I thought that - that anyone who knew what you were and supported you must be-" She cuts herself off, making desperate motions as though the words can be drawn from the air.

You lean back until you're laying flat on the balcony, staring up at the stars. "Must be evil."

There's a silence.

"You know I'm a liar, Minerva." You say, "You know I have kept things from you. I am a killer, on scales small and large. I have kidnapped, extorted, tortured. There are holes in my moral foundation that would put the Grand Canyon to shame."

Absently, you pick out the patterns of constellations. "But that does not mean I cannot love. Nor does it mean I must forgo the lesser kindnesses. We, you and I, and all of our cohorts and enemies, live with a casual violence humans were never meant to. You couldn't have done anything to save those people yesterday. And you would still kill me, kill most of the people in that room if you had to."

You roll your head to look at her, "If you're asking me if that makes you evil, I can't help you find that answer."

While you watch the sky, she is watching the waves. "We're all someone's monster." She murmured.

You lift your hands briefly, then let them fall back to your chest. "And we're all someone's idea of happiness."

"I thought you would mock me." Minerva says suddenly.

"What?" You blink at her, "For having questions about morality? That's-"

"At the restaurant. If I told you my name then." You realize she's picking at the cloth of her borrowed shirt, and decidedly not looking at you.

You frown, "Well, I mean, it did answer a question I'd had for a while." When she glances at you warily, you explain, "I had always gotten the impression that you had modeled your persona after Legionnaire's. Given his preference for all things Roman, I assumed you would've taken the Roman aspect. But if 'Minerva' was your real name..." You shrug.

Minerva stares at you for a moment, pressing her lips into a line. "You're going to mock me." She says grimly.

"Is it that bad?"

She sighs, "Albion thought 'Athena' sounded sexier."

Earlier, you had told Alexandria that you'd never been struck dumb-silent. Now, you'd have to revise that answer. Because there are many layers to this that you have to mentally unpack, while your facial expression does heavens-knows-what, until you stuff your hand into your mouth to keep from spouting out something terrible.

"Albion?" You squeak, when you're sure you won't burst out laughing instead.

"Legionnaire."

You take a very deep breath. Then you let it out. "Oh. Oh that man never had a snowball's chance in hell, did he. And he-" You snort, and bite your lip to contain the fit of laughter, condemning it to silent shaking.

"I told you." Minerva muttered, resting her head in one hand.

You might be crying. It is Alexandria's birthday, but you have been given a gift.

"My dear Minerva." You say, once reason has returned to your vague area code, "Your ex-husband. Is one of the stupidest men I've ever met. And I have met a lot of stupid people."

You're fairly certain Minerva is blushing.

"Well," She says, after a pause, "I suppose I can't refute that."

"In particular," You comment as you get to your feet, brushing off any grime from laying on the ground, "He is incredibly wrong about your name."

Definitely blushing.

"I -" Whatever Minerva was going to say is lost, as Alexandria throws open one of the balcony doors.

"Synovus!" She calls, face flushed, "I want a rematch!"

---

[Part two of this installation in the Synoverse coming soon!]

#synovus #synoverse #Happy Pride Month #This one is slower than the first #Time to explore some character development #My apologies to anyone named Albion IRL

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