#couldnt use saiyaman so i tried to flip it around a little bit

[slugmanslime]

Monday (7/22): Fantasy Day

my submission for day two of Chiccolo Week 2019, still late but uploaded nonetheless lol @chiccolofans

Prompt: Heroes and Villains

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When she opened her eyes, everything was dark. Her hearing was muffled, making her own breath sound too loud in the confines of the sack apparently draped over her head. Ugh, and it smelled too. It had to be the bag, no way her breath could smell like mothballs and foot sweat. Kind of like the trunk of a car where things that were used frequently but weren’t necessarily important wound up. 

ChiChi rolled her shoulders, shaking her head back and forth a few times in an effort to dislodge her smelly prison. A few coils of well-worn rope secured her to what felt like a chair; if she had the time, she could probably undo the knots just by memory. However, she wasn’t left wriggling for long; a few moments later the sack was removed and floodlights proceeded to effectively blind her. She hissed in annoyance, whipping her face away to save her adjusting eyes. 

“Daimao, if you’re going to insist on using the same bag every time, could you at least wash it?” ChiChi huffed, savoring air that smelled of sawdust and solder. 

A disappointed grunt pinpointed the location of her ‘host’, or rather, kidnapper. He ought to give her a frequent flyer’s discount at this point, really. 

“Feeling a little dazed, Miss Cox? A little disoriented, a little frightened perhaps?” Was he trying to make his voice sound deeper? ChiChi snorted, finally squinting up at him. 

Daimao was slumped low in his chair, fingers steepled and smirking mischievously. To his left, Icarus was standing tall, his scaly head perfectly suspended in a polished bowl tasked with piloting a very mechanical body. They had a giddy aura around them, like a cat that finally got the cream. 

“I think your chloro-mist is losing its potency-- I don’t even have a headache this time.” 

The villain grinned, fangs curling over his bottom lip. “Mockery won’t rile me up today, Miss Cox, for we finally have the upper hand on Super Saiyan!”

ChiChi wasn’t buying it, and Daimao was aware. Sure, this was his spiel nearly every time, but this time in particular he was right! 

“I’m not buying it.” She confirmed, shifting into a more relaxed position within her binds. “So, what is it this time? Another bank bomb? Maybe a robot army this time?” 

“Wh--” Daimao frowned viciously, lurching to his feet and planting his fists firmly on his hips. “No! Obviously not, I have a completely new and original idea!” Beside him Icarus nodded vigorously, ever supportive of his master. 

“... Is it a death ray or something?”

Daimao gasped, spinning to mash a few buttons on the panel behind him. “Of course not!”

Icarus had the sense to look meek, mouthing to her, ‘He saw it on the back of a cereal box!’

ChiChi snickered, much to her captors chagrin. “Daimao, you’re just so predictable!”

Now, of all the things she’d ever said in these meetings, that was the insult that cut the deepest. His fingers flew over the extensive array of knobs, buttons, and switches, growling, “Predictable! I’ll show you predictable!”

It was fun, this little game that they played together. She reported on Super Saiyan, Daimao kidnapped her, Super Saiyan came to her rescue and kicked his fanny, she went on to report about Daimao, rinse, repeat. But because the cycle was so repetitive, it left little room for surprises. You’d think after years of this schtick, the two super-powered knuckleheads could’ve come up with something new. 

Switch one. “Piranhas, oh noooo!” ChiChi moaned dispassionately as the floor around her seat peeled back to reveal a hungry swarm of man-eating fish. “Seen it!” 

“Try this then!” A series of drill guns swooped from the ceiling, whirring threateningly a few inches from her face. 

ChiChi yawned exaggeratedly; Daimao growled in agitation. 

A set of lasers, a punching wheel, and one snake later, Daimao stood panting over the panel. ChiChi was giving him an infuriatingly knowing smile, one that made his ears tingle and his fists clench. He pounded a yellow button to his left, and the weapons returned to their stations, the floor sealing with an automatic hiss. It only took a few measured steps to have him leaning over her menacingly, a hand on either arm of the chair for leverage. 

“Why can’t you just give me this? You’re really being a killjoy, the best part is about to start.”

“I’m a reporter, Daimao, it’s literally in the job description to tell the most objective truth.” ChiChi flicked her bangs out of her eyes, giving him a coy look from beneath her dark lashes. “Would you rather I lie to you?”

He fought the warmth rushing to his ears, hating the way it stained his skin purple, and frowned-- not pouted, frowned. Genius villains with huge egos didn’t pout! And they didn’t lose either, at least, not without a fight. 

“That depends; would you lie to me if I asked what you were doing this Saturday night?”

That threw her off her game for sure. ChiChi blinked, a hint of shock playing across her face. “I won’t have to lie if I’m doing nothing.” 

“And if you’re doing nothing, that means you’re free to get a drink with me then, am I correct?”

Surprise, in the shape of her lips and the glint in her eyes; that’s the ticket. A pretty rose color dusted her cheeks, which dimpled as she chuckled to cover any other wayward emotions. “You know, I guess I have to say, you really--” 

“You shouldn’t flirt with your captives, Daimao. It’s obvious that they can’t consent!” A booming voice filled the domed room, which now had a man-shaped hole in the roof. Super Saiyan floated a few feet below it, arms crossed over his chest while he beamed down at them. “Anyway, everyone knows that bad guys don’t get the girl!”

He leaves no room for a witty remark from his opponent before the two of them are making another hole in the side of the building, echoes of their fight still filling the air even as they tumble through the sky. 

Icarus sighed, giving ChiChi an understanding look as he slipped the knots loose in her binds. “How about a ride home? I owe you for the smelly bag.”

But ChiChi wasn’t really listening as she rose from the chair, rubbing at the marks the ropes had left in her skin. Her gaze was stuck on the exit wound torn into the side of the building. 

“Yeah… guess you’d be right about that, Daimao.” She smiled to herself as Icarus slipped the stinky sack over her head once more, to secure the privacy of their lair’s location. “Couldn’t have predicted that one.”