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The Good Life: Sweet Little Lies (ch. 8)
🕑 Added 2023-06-02 14:55:41 +0000 UTC"Tragedy," I heard Homelander begin Lamplighter's eulogy, sounding heartbroken. "It's something that heroes stand in the face of. Something that we stand against. We are a shield that serves to protect you from the dangers of the world. As much as we can, at least. It's never enough in the end, because we can't be everywhere. I've heard a thousand and one reasons for it -- lack of funding, jurisdiction, red tape. A thousand and one reasons that stop us from being heroes. That… that's always something that Lamplighter struggled with." I heard the sigh in his voice while Robin sent me the greenlight.
Her preparations were done. All that was left was to get the show on the road. Creating a Room, I found a trinket that Robin had moved around for me. An isolated corner that overlooked the entire memorial. Switching with it, I found myself standing on the second level of seats, towards the back end of the auditorium, and overlooking the stage. Homelander was flanked by Queen Maeve, and I saw the skylight that they had used to descend through. I had missed their entrance.
Homelander had a gloved hand on the casket, "He was the best of all of us. I worked with him for half my life. We both joined the Seven near the same time. It didn't stop him from taking me under his wing though. I learned a lot from the heroes I've worked with, but it was Lamplighter that showed me what a true hero was. Doing good for goodness sake. That people… people are all that matter. That every day when we went out, no matter how hard of a day it was, we could take solace in the fact that we shielded someone from a tragic fate or loss." Homelander took in a deep breath, bowing his head to the casket.
I was going to see that photo in the tabloids for weeks.
"We fight so hard to protect others, that I never thought that we would lose him," Homelander continued, his voice growing thick with emotion before he cleared his throat. "Lamplighter… he spoke to me before we went out that fateful day. He said to me, 'Homelander. There's more than meets the eye to this. I've heard rumors of something different. Something new. A supervillain.' He had been conducting his own investigation, I learned, only far too late to help him. He kept me out of it -- all of us -- to protect us. Because Lamplighter dared to go where the police wouldn't. Where the FBI or CIA couldn't. He saw this coming. And… it seems he ventured too close to the truth. For it, he was murdered by Heartless."
I crossed my arms, watching the scene. That was pure bullshit. Lamplighter had no idea who I was. No- worse than that. He thought I was working with Vought. Hell, he thought I was a hero at first.
Vought was using his death, I realized. To get into the military? Or for something new?
I pushed off the wall that I was leaning on, striding forward to the balcony. I saw the cameras panning and shifting, capturing every angle -- most were focused on Homelander, but there were plenty that were scanning the audience for reactions. One camera swept over me, but I imagine that the live footage had spotted me. There were a few gasps as I walked, people realizing that it was me. All the while, Homelander continued.
"It will always be my greatest regret that I couldn't save him. I-" he cut himself off, shaking his head while I made a Room. Picking George Clooney, I swapped places with him, landing in his seat. His panicked shouts drew everyone's attention to me. So, I started clapping as I stepped off the seat and into the main walkway leading up to the stage. I could feel it in the air -- the sudden tension that became so thick you could feel it in the air as everyone took in a sharp gasp.
I was smiling ear to ear. This was such a terrible idea, but I just couldn't help myself. It was an intoxicating feeling that I already knew I was addicted to. Seeing it in everyone's faces, knowing that the shock would be mirrored on the faces of everyone that was watching the live broadcast… the fact that I was tearing down this delusion of grandeur was just… perfect.
Homelander worked his jaw, everyone frozen in indecision -- security, the heroes, even Queen Maeve looked caught completely flat footed. I was going to cherish this memory for a long, long time. "Heartless," Homelander started, turning away from the empty casket and facing me.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt your speech," I started, a laugh in my voice that I couldn't quite keep out. "You can continue, if you'd like. I'll wait. The Room is yours, Homelander," I said, creating a Room as I approached the stage, the Room sweeping over it. My range was slowly expanding. Still too short a range for comfort, admittedly, but it was enough to envelop about half of the stage, ending just past Homelander and Queen Maeve. "But, if I might make one interjection… ladies and gentlemen, do stay in your seats. The show is just beginning."
Switching places with people was weird. I could switch with normal people without any issue -- as I had just proved -- but looking at Homelander… it was the difference between looking at a five pound weight and a five hundred pound one. I wasn't sure if it was his power that made him next to impossible to switch with, though -- it was a physical attribute, and my power really didn't care about weight or size.
It also didn't make sense because Queen Maeve was next to him, but she was far lighter in comparison. Still heavier than a normal person, but I swapped places with her easily enough.
"Why are you here?" Homelander growled out, his eyes starting to glow red. "I imagine it's not to turn yourself in," he remarked.
"I wouldn't," I told him in a stage whisper looking out into the crowd of faces, all of them bloodless with fear. Queen Maeve looked perplexed, but ready for action as she now stood where I did. She looked just like she did in the movies -- dark red hair styled perfectly, her iron armor hugging her curves, a short battle skirt, complete with a tiara. The cameras were all focused on me and that made a thrill race down my spine. I had the whole world's attention. "Because I have… this!" I said with flourish, reaching into a pocket and pulling out a grenade pin.
Homelander looked unimpressed, "A pin to a grenade?"
"Exactly- well, there's no grenade," I confessed, my gaze going to the heroes. To A-Train, who was in his seat, unmoving. "What there is, though, is a good… I dunno… hundred pounds of C4 that's currently primed and placed throughout the auditorium. I was going to flash the detonator to them, but, well, I don't exactly have it. Someone else does, and the moment you laser through my noggin', they'll pull the trigger and kill everyone in this building." Hollywood movies would never be the same, I saw in the horrified faces of celebrity A-listers.
Homelander went deathly still but the glow in his eyes faded. "You'd kill innocent civilians?" He questioned, speaking loudly as his hands clenched into fists.
"Oh, absolutely," I confirmed, spinning the pin on a finger. "Honestly, I'd probably be doing the world a favor. Hollywood hasn't produced a single movie worth watching since they discovered CGI. Talent certainly hasn't carried lackluster and safe writing -- there hasn't been a single creative risk in a major movie since… I want to say… the year two thousand? So, I figure if I blow everyone in this building right to hell, new talent flows into their now vacant positions and the fact that I'm willing to murder them over a bad movie will probably light a creative fire under their asses," I remarked, tossing the pin up and catching it.
I was eating it up. I shouldn't be, but I was. My gaze flickered to the crowd, at all the faces. To A-Train most of all.
Because he could have stopped me. I wasn't fast enough to react to him. He could have ended this entire thing before it began, but he didn't. I was grateful for it. Would have been a really stupid way to end my reign of terror before it could really begin. But he didn't. He sat there, doing nothing. He still sat there, doing nothing.
A-Train was a superhero. One of the Seven. So why the fuck was he looking at other people to save the day?
"That's monstrous," Homelander growled at me.
"I'd argue necessary, but agree to disagree," I responded, my tone light and flippant. Cinder was ready for action. I saw her eyeing me carefully, waiting for a shot to open up. More interestingly, I saw Asami was ready to go. She wasn't scared. She was angry. Interesting. Very interesting.
Fear showed who people really were.
A-Train was afraid and he was doing nothing. Queen Maeve? Black Noir? Them I could forgive. They couldn't stop me in time from blowing the place to hell. A-Train could, though. He just didn't. And he wasn't. How long would it take for him to disarm all of the bombs that Robin set up? Three and a half seconds to find and disarm them all? At the same time, Asami was showing more courage. Stan Edgar, though, he was the most interesting of all because he wasn't reacting in the slightest. His expression blank and empty, staring ahead at me with a dull stare.
"You didn't answer my question, Heartless. Why are you here? What do you hope to gain with this?" Homelander questioned, taking the lead, as I hoped he would. His expression was serious, but I didn't see any fear in his eyes. Good. I would have been heartbroken if I did. He had a plan to take me out and save the day. He was Homelander. I'm pretty sure he was trying to distract me from Translucent's suspicious absence.
"I've already told you what I want, Homelander. Thank you for the stage," I said, inclining my head to him. His gaze narrowed, but I paid it no mind. But, I was still too close to him for comfort. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out three gumballs that I had gotten from a coin machine. Tossing them on the ground, I picked three hostages to work with. All of them in the front row. "But, first, introductions are in order! Good evening. You may call me Heartless," I introduced myself with a theatrical bow.
When I rose, I introduced my hostages. "This here, is Vought's current CEO, Stan Edgar," I introduced Stan by parting him on the shoulder. "Victoria Neuman," I introduced my second hostage. "And lastly, Asami Sato. Now, my dear assistants, if you would be so kind as to hold out your hands?" I requested, circling the three like a shark that smelled blood in the water.
"What is this foolishness? You can't truly expect to get away with this, do you?" Stan questioned, his voice decidedly calm. Bored almost.
"Wow. You got a serious pair on you," I remarked, finding myself surprised with his nerve. Out of the three, he was the one I would have bet on to break down in tears at the idea of danger. "And me getting away with it doesn't really matter one way or the other, Stan. Failure is a mentality, you see. And it's one that I've gotten rid of. Even if Homelander walks over and squishes me like a bug… I've already accomplished what I set out to do." I told him, reaching into my coat and pulling out a grenade. He didn't even flinch as I popped the grenade and let it cook in my hand.
Just before it blew, I pinched the trigger, halting it. Stan, however reluctantly, held out his hands and took the grenade. "That being?"
"I just want to ruin your day."
The confession got a small twitch, but I was moving on. Another grenade was primed and handed to Victoria. Last of all was Asami, who openly glared at me, accepting the grenade.
"I have been accused of murder. Of setting Lamplighter on fire! Something I still can't get over, to be honest. The guy's whole gimmick was fire. Seems like a rather severe oversight that his costume could go up like I doused him in gasoline, but I digress," I began my theatrics, looking to the crowd with my hands out wide. "Now, my dear assistant -- Homelander, would you be so kind as to open the casket?" I requested, smiling from ear to ear.
It was too good of an opportunity to pass up. I was planning to improvise at the start, and Vought provided the perfect material. Homelander stilled, clenching his jaw. And it was only because Stan was within my Room that I felt his reaction. Oh, it was far too early to start tensing up. I haven't even started yet!
Homelander paused for a telling moment, forcing me to dangle the grenade pin as a reminder. His expression tightened, anger shining in his eyes as he gripped the lid of the coffin and ripped it open. A gasp rang out, prompting Homelander to glance at the coffin. Even he seemed surprised by the fact it was completely empty. I threw my hands out wide, delighting in the mindfuck I had just delivered to the world.
"I am a criminal. Of that, I will freely admit. But the accusations that have been levied against me are false," I said with a smile, swallowing a cackle of absolute glee. Confusion rippled out through the crowd like a stone tossed into a pond. So, I finished it up with a declaration.
"Because I didn’t kill Lamplighter!" I lied through my teeth, eliciting an explosion of noise from all sides. The confusion, the disbelief -- it was felt by everyone. A-Train was looking around, trying to catch the eye of someone that had answers. Queen Maeve's jaw dropped at the blatant bullshit. Even Homelander seemed baffled.
"Vought did!"
I couldn't stop it. I laughed at the eruption of protests and it was only me grabbing the sound waves of my laughter that stopped the sound from echoing out.
"That is a lie," Stan protested, his expression pinched in a scowl, his nostrils flaring and he looked truly pissed right the fuck off. I was getting under his skin. Right where I wanted to be.
He shouldn't have reacted. Now I just had to rub salt into the wound. "This entire display is a farce. A tragedy that was engineered for one single purpose -- Vought's bottom line. To make you feel unsafe. To make you turn to Vought and its heroes. Because Vought is a cancer and it intends to spread. It's not enough that they control the media. No, they won't be satisfied until they control every single last aspect of our lives." I said, rounding on Stan, who was glaring at me openly. Asami's jaw dropped but, interestingly, Victoria was glaring at me as well.
"You're lying," Stan stated, the indignation in his tone was a thin blanket for the fury he felt.
"I am," I agreed in a low whisper, leaning in. "You seriously think the truth matters? They don't care about that. They want something interesting, not something that's true. They want entertainment, not facts. You see, Hollywood thinks that we plebs love the story of an underdog because it’s the old tale of pulling yourself up by your bootstraps. Overcoming the odds… but that’s not true. That’s not why we love the underdog.”
“It’s the fall from grace that we adore," I said, reaching out to pat him on his cheek. "But you should know that better than anyone, right? After all, lies are what your company sells." I tacked on, making his eyes narrow into slits. That struck a nerve~!
I didn't have to provide proof. I didn't have to be a credible source. All of my lies could be easily disproved. But that didn't matter because people… people wouldn't want them to be lies. Those people wouldn't believe any evidence, no matter how credible, and argue that Vought was covering up lies with more lies. They would close their eyes, cover their ears, and refuse to believe in anything other than what they decided was true. They would be so loud and boisterous that they would convince others of the truth -- my lies. The same exact thing that was happening with Vought’s lies -- of safety and protection -- only it was being used against them.
It really was incredible that I could just make something up and irrevocably damage Vought's reputation. It was like a superpower.
Why weren't more people doing this?
"You will pay for this," Stan swore, and I could tell this just became deeply personal for him. He had a spine. I wasn't expecting that. I was expecting him to be a wimpy bitch that'd cry at the first sight of danger. This was far more interesting. If Stan was a wimpy bitch, then I could understand him. I wouldn't respect it, but I could understand. However, he wasn't. He had grit. Moxy. Spunk! "Even if you do kill me today, you will pay for this. The US government will hunt you down to the ends of the earth, killing anyone you know or love. I do hope your five minutes of fame were worth it."
That's what I'm talking about. This was so much better than if he was a meek pencil pusher. "Oh, Stan… I think I'm going to hate you," I told him lovingly, my hands on his cheeks and gazing into his eyes. That seemed to unnerve him, disquieted that his threats washed over me like water. "Good. Rally the defenses. Tuck every card you have up your sleeve and get ready to play them. Because, you see… I don't want this to be easy. Where would the fun be in that?"
"I-" Stan started but both of our attention was drawn to the ceiling as a loud crash echoed out. A split second later, I was forced to teleport myself with Queen Maeve, putting her back on the stage. The stage itself splintered, a figure appearing with an axe kick delivered exactly where I had been standing.
"Mirko," I greeted her, this was just getting better and better. Mirko was a hero that was new to the scene, appearing just before Cinder did. She was tall with a body lined with defined muscles, her skin dark which made her stark white hair and ruby-red eyes stand out that much more. The most notable features on the already standout woman were her tall and floppy rabbit ears and tail.
"Finally! A proper villain," Mirko returned, a wide smile on her face that could only be described as blood thirsty. Homelander and Queen Maeve stood together on the stage while A-Train appeared on it as well, in his hands were the grenades that I placed in the hostages hands. "Try to last a bit for me, alright? I've been waiting for ages for this!"
A-Train threw a cocky smirk while Cinder made her presence known with a flash of light and heat. She stood on her seat, her bow in hand while her dress lost some of its material. On the other side of me was Black Noir and directly behind me was covered by the Deep. I was in quite the pickle it would seem. "Your bombs have all been disarmed. And you need a better arms dealer -- these are all duds," he said, casually dropping them at his feet. At least he did something. Finally,
"This is your only chance to surrender peacefully, Heartless," Homelander said, his fists on his hips as he cocked his head, looking down at me. It was something out of a movie. A comic. I think I've had dreams about this moment since I was a kid -- dreams of the day that I would go toe to toe with Homelander and the Seven. Homelander… he was everything that I hoped he'd be.
"Surrender?" I questioned, feeling a thrill rush through me. "Why on earth would I ever do that? The fun hasn't even started!" I said, letting go of the pins in the grenades and they detonated instantly. A-Train dropped them at his feet, but they rolled away enough to impact the others. Three instantaneous explosions rang out from the stage, and even over the sound of screaming from the crowd, I heard A-Train screaming at the top of his lungs, his legs shredded by shrapnel.
It was Mirko that reached me first, surprisingly enough. She raced through the dust kicked up by the explosions, a high kick aimed at my head, and for a split second, all I could see was her shin. Pure instinct saved me as I swapped places with Black Noir, forcing him to take the blow for me. His head snapped back, and he was knocked back a good half dozen feet, but he flipped midair to land on his. Cinder let loose an arrow before I swapped places with the Deep, making him cry out when it slammed into his shoulder.
The auditorium descended into absolute chaos. People were leaping out of their seats, pushing through one another as they all fled for the exit. Black Noir rushed me while the Deep was moaning on the ground, a hand at the arrow in his shoulder. His katana flashed out, quick as a whip, and far too fast for me to hope to handle. So, I swapped with Cinder, hearing her curse as she was forced to lock blades with Black Noir.
My Room was expanding, I realized, my blood singing in my veins and my heart beating like it belonged to a hummingbird. Two thousand feet was the area my Room could cover before -- with me at the center, it was a thousand feet on each side. In a handful of seconds, my Room had jumped in size. It was closer to three thousand feet, even over, if I had to guess. This was perfect. This was exactly what I wanted.
I wanted to fight the heroes. I wanted to win. But there wasn't any point if it was easy.
"Stay still!" Mirko shouted, sending another axe kick descending upon me. I felt her move behind me, but I couldn't keep up with her speed. It was insane. She nearly killed me twice in as many seconds as I was forced to switch places with a wind up toy that I had dropped earlier.
I watched in absolute awe as the ground buckled under the force of her kick. It was like a missile went off. "You're a slippery one. Good mobility, but all I'm seeing is the one trick up your sleeve." She said from the smoke just as Cinder leaped up, firing three arrows.
I switched places with Cinder, who seemed prepared for the possibility. She destroyed her own arrows just as Black Noir sprang his trap that he thought was a secret. He lashed out with a blade that sang through the air, determined to take my head off, while Queen Maeve threw herself at me. They were baiting me, I saw, my smile growing as I switched places with Queen Maeve, who broke the katana on her collarbone when Black Noir completed his swing.
Both turned to me in an instant, but Mirko beat them to it. My heart leapt into my throat as I felt her move before seeming to appear before me with a burst of speed. I felt someone grab my jacket, yanking me down, and that was probably the only reason my head was still on my shoulders. "He's not alone!" Mirko called out, landing on vacant seats now that the crowd had mostly cleared out.
Robin.
"This is more than you expected," Robin reminded me, the hand that sprouted from my back speaking up as I took in the positioning. Homelander hadn't moved from the stage, his hands clasped behind his back and watching the fight unfold. Mirko was above me. Cinder, Black Noir, and Queen Maeve were in front of me. A-Train was crippled while the Deep was still moaning about his arm.
Where was Translucent?
Almost as if to agree with her, I felt… something. A vibration of some kind rushing through my Room. I stopped it in its tracks, thinking it was some kind of attack. My gaze snapped in the direction of the source, locking eyes with Victoria Neuman, who openly looked shocked.
Huh. Huh.
Wasn't that interesting?
"Oh, I'm outnumbered, alright," I agreed, looking between my enemies. The ones that were still standing were the ones adapting. I could only pull the same trick off so many times before they figured it out. "But they're the ones that are outmatched," I continued, grabbing hold of the vibrations and I threw them at Queen Maeve. It was an attack, I saw, because she was knocked back like she had been hit by a semi-truck, sending her flying as her costume was destroyed. Any other time, I might have taken a moment to marvel at her breasts as they spilled out of her armor, but I didn't have the time to.
Mirko destroyed the ledge she stood on, darting at me, while I replaced myself with a duffle bag that I had stashed beforehand. The moment she landed, I triggered the explosion. A plume of fire went up, the propane tank exploding with flourish, but no sooner than I was moving, I found myself intercepted by Black Noir and Cinder. Sweat was starting to drip down my back and forehead as I was forced to dodge an arrow by switching with Black Noir, only to switch back with him when Cinder sliced at me with her swords. Her expression was one of absolute focus, determined to cut me down. It was actually a little arousing.
A small game of keep away started as I swapped places between the two, narrowly avoiding attacks that got closer and closer with each swing. Worse, any hope that Mirko was out of the fight died a dog's death because I felt her moving just before the ground beneath me was kicked out from underneath me. The balcony bucked upward, sending me up, but it also gave me materials to work with. Switching with a piece of rubble, I sailed through the air, looking back at the three.
Mirko looked a little worse for wear with a few burn marks on her body, and her boots were mostly black, but the smile on her face was bigger than before. I think she was loving this as much as I was.
"The building has been surrounded. You've had your fun, it is time to leave, Heartless," Robin instructed, and I watched in annoyance as limbs sprouted on Cinder, Mirko, and Black Noir. Their arms and legs were bound in tight holds, but it was only Mirko that managed to break it, choosing to dislocate her arm to escape.
I swapped places with the coffin, landing on the stage. My gaze slid to Homelander, who had watched the whole fight transpire without moving a finger to help. What was he planning, I wonder? Why wasn't he helping? There was a slight smirk on his lips as he looked at me. That was the only warning that I got before his eyes glowed red, his heat vision racing at me as the coffin slammed into the ground. I swapped places with it, turning to keep an eye on him now that he was active.
Everyone knew how strong Homelander was. Everyone knew how durable he was.
What a lot of people didn't know was how fast he was.
Homelander appeared in front of me, a hand on my shoulder before punching a fist through my stomach. "This cat and mouse game is-" Homelander started, his head tilting as he realized that he only punched through cloth. My organs were with Robin.
"Do it now," I told Robin before I switched places with my bug bag, seeing the confusion on Homelander's face for the briefest of seconds. I found myself in the sewer with a line of items that Robin prepared for me to swap with. That was my hint that my range had nearly doubled in size because I could skip a marker. I broke into a dead sprint, creating and closing rooms as fast as I could, "Room, Room, Room, Room-" I was cut off from continuing when the bombs detonated above.
A-Train disarming the bombs was always the plan. The fact that he didn't do it at the start was the issue. I wasn't sure if Robin would have enough time to rearm them.
The shockwave traveled through the sewer just as I bounced back up in the minivan secured for me. All the same, as I landed in the back, I still felt the vibrations traveling through me. Looking through the back tinted window, I saw the auditorium -- fire gushed through the windows, blowing off the doors before the building itself began to crumble. My heart pounded like a drum at the sight, even as I ripped off the mask and took off my ruined costume while Robin drove me away.
"I do hope you're satisfied," she said, her tone testy. "That was an extremely unnecessary risk. Was it really worth it?" She questioned, not getting it at all.
I didn't answer her in favor of looking through the window, a plume of dust going up as the building collapsed… however, through the smoke, was him. Homelander. In his arms and on his back were the others -- Queen Maeve, Black Noir, The Deep, A-Train, Cinder, Mirko, and Victoria Neuman. All of them stacked high, injured, but alive as he descended to the ground, his face solemn. I breathed as he turned his attention to the first responders, making sure that everyone was cared for.
"Yes," I answered, meaning the word with every fiber of my being. "It was absolutely worth it."
…
Additional Scene
"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck -- please, please- I can tell you shit! All kinds of shit! Please, just let me go and I'll tell you everything-" the pleas for mercy were cut off as Butcher drove a suped up cattle prod into the invisible cunts side, making him cry out in agony. His nice suit was half gone from when he started to rip it off in a back room to escape Heartless a wee bit easier. He practically fell right into Butcher's lap, and he knew better than to let such an opportunity go by.
After Heartless' stunt? It'd be days before anyone even thought of looking for Translucent.
"Oh, you will," Butcher agreed, pressing the cattle prod into his side for far longer than necessary. "That you will indeed."
