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The Good Life: Limelight (ch. 7)
🕑 Added 2023-05-26 14:46:04 +0000 UTC"It's poor form to go to the wake of a man that you killed," Robin remarked to me as I struggled to tie a tie around my neck, and it was only a little because our new cat, Black, kept treating it like a toy, idly pawing it as if he knew it was annoying. I glanced at the video I had on my phone, which was floating next to the mirror, I tried to see where I went wrong. Cross, wide end under the narrow end, fold over, tuck under… why the fuck wasn't it working?!
"That's why I'm going to the memorial. That's still classy," I retorted, finishing off the tie and it was nothing like the video. Black certainly wasn't helping things by batting the tie back and forth. I just about reached for the clip on I had in reserve when I felt two of Robin's arms sprout from my shoulders to redo the knot.
"I don't see what there is to gain by taking such a risk," she admitted, and I saw that the tie she was making was picture-perfect. That wasn't fair. Pretty sure that was also sexist. "Your mask has zinc lining, but the rest of your costume doesn’t. You do have identifiable features other than your face that he might recognize." Pretty sure she was talking about my penis. Robin finished off my tie, pulling it tight and I checked myself out in the mirror.
I looked like a kid wearing a tux. Couldn't pull it off at all. Eh, whatever.
"I'm going because the movers and shakers are going to be there. All to pay their respects," I said, brushing my hair into place before I decided I didn't like it and let it do its own thing. The leadership at Vought, the Seven, and a bunch of other celebrities made the shortlist. Lamplighter's death was a day of international mourning. People would be less sad if the President died. So, even for me, securing an invite had been a tall order.
Robin's hands brushed my hair for me when she saw I was going to leave it alone. "You have your doubts," she remarked.
"I'm sure they're all going to look sad for the cameras," I voiced, narrowing my eyes at my reflection. "But Homelander's reaction was off. It was like he didn't care that Lamplighter died screaming right in front of him. They worked together for more than a decade. Add in everything else that Cinder has shown me? I have my doubts." Clearly, it wasn't all sunshine and rainbows behind the cameras. But it was a question of how far that extended. Was there reason to have beef with Lamplighter? Was he being forced into an early retirement? "I want to see how they act when no one is looking. See what the real deal is."
Robin finished brushing my hair into place and it looked presentable even if it did make me look like an idiot. "I can understand that, I suppose. Still a risk, however. I could easily accomplish the same task," she pointed out, but that got an easy grin as I scratched Black's ears.
"Where's the fun in that?" I questioned, giving my cat a few more chin scratches before heading for the door. "Can I expect to see you there?" I asked Robin, stepping into the elevator and pressing the lobby. One of the hands on my shoulders brushed my cheek, chuckling at the question before vanishing. "Yeah, figured. But I'm sure you'd look great," I told Robin, riding down the building and making my way to my vehicle that would take me to the memorial. As my driver took me to my destination, I saw signs of mourning absolutely everywhere.
There was a lot of graffiti about Lamplighter, wishing him peace or painting him with angel wings. There weren't that many people on the streets either, most staying at home to watch the memorial live. They weren't even going to Tivo it. As we passed by a main street, I saw a billboard on the side of a building scroll over with a promotion for a Lamplighter memorabilia collection -- all of his hit comics, TV shows, and movies for a cheap affordable bundle of 69.99.
It was almost as if New York itself was holding its breath and saying a prayer for the fallen hero.
At least those that weren't on the street, crowding around an effigy of me, cheering as it burned. I smirked at the sight as we drove by, even the cops standing by and just making sure that the fire didn't get out of control. It was flattering, really. There was something deeply entertaining about the fact that everyone was so riled up over me, and they didn't know I was right next to them.
That fact only got more amusing when we arrived at the spot for the memorial. It was a theater that had been rented out, and it was a big one too. The car pulled up and the valet opened the door for me, letting me out to nearly be blinded by flashing lights. I wanted to laugh as I smiled and waved, wondering what their faces would look like if they knew the truth. I walked along the red carpet, people snapping pictures just because I was walking on it before I approached the door. Handing over my ticket, I was allowed inside.
The double doors opened and I was greeted by a wall of noise and a sea of people. Even with a glance, I knew every single one of them -- famous celebrities, public figures, and so on. Admittedly, some I only knew because I got the guest list in advance, but my gaze did linger on the vice president in the corner with a handful of senators. Floating around and mingling were Vought's board of directors and some notable heroes. As I accepted a flute of champagne, my gaze slid to Cinder, who was chatting up one such director and another familiar face.
Victoria Neuman. One of the most vocal and ardent opposition to Vought and their heroes. It was pretty much her entire platform. Simply because as much as people loved heroes, there were those that hated them for no reason other than they were popular. Sipping my champagne, I decided that I didn't like it and placed it on another server's platter without them realizing it.
However, like a moth to the flame, I was drawn to it. Lamplighter's casket. It was placed on a stage so everyone could look at it -- two photos flanking it, one of Lamplighter in costume, and another of a middle aged man smiling for the camera. I felt my heart tick a few beats faster at the sight, weaving through the crowd until I came to a stop in front of him. I never really got why a criminal would return to the scene of the crime, but I couldn't deny, it made more sense now. There was something incredible about looking at my handiwork and having no one know that it was me as I heard them voice their rage.
"It's terrible, isn't it?" I heard a familiar voice ask, making me glance over my shoulder. Asami Sato. She wore a wine red dress, her hair styled with just a hint of waviness, and just a touch of makeup to highlight her natural beauty. She actually sounded mournful. "He was murdered so close to retirement. He saved and protected so many people for so many years, but…"
"It was a bad way to go," I agreed. I'm not really even sure I could be blamed for this. The guy went up like a Christmas tree. Fire was his thing. Sure, I had a little blood on my hands, but I maintained that the costume designer had more. "Did you know him?"
Asami's face became a little more strained but she smiled as she shook her head, "I never had the pleasure. Asami Sato," she introduced herself.
"Michelangelo," I introduced myself, borrowing the name of my favorite Ninja Turtle. "Pleasure to meet you, Asami. Big fan of your work," I remarked, and I saw how strained the smile before was because the one it became was much more genuine. It was easy to see that she took real pride in what she did and what she had accomplished. "I especially like you giving Amazon the two finger salute. Always a pleasure to see," I added, cracking a lopsided smile.
"Don't say that too loudly. I saw Bezos around here giving me the stink eye," Asami said with a chuckle. "I can't say that Amazon has made things easy, but I am proud of what Future Industries has accomplished so far as well as what we will accomplish in the future," she added, and the line sounded rehearsed to my ears. My smile grew a fraction.
Asami didn't give a shit about Lamplighter. She was here for the people. To make connections and to meet investors. After all, while else would she have walked up to a random stranger?
"The future, huh? I admit, I'm rather curious what those plans could be. The starting mark was a fleet of delivery drones," I remarked, opening the door for her. I saw her eyes flash, thinking I took the bait and that I was hooked. I liked to think I was pretty good at reading people. It was a necessary skill growing up. Microexpressions gave away a lot more than people realized. Some were more obvious than others, which is why people said 'the smile didn't reach their eyes' and so on and so forth. But it was more than just reading an expression -- it was about reading body language too.
It was hardly a supernatural skill. Just a talent that I had. And one I made full use of when combined with my actual power. "Any Room for others in that future of yours?" I questioned, making a Room. My awareness expanded over everything around me. And because of it, I nearly laughed.
The casket wasn't just closed. It was empty.
"The future is for everyone, Mr. Michelangelo," Asami returned, her tone as smooth as silk. "I hope you understand that I can't give away company secrets, but I am very excited for our next public project that will be announced in the coming days." Translation: buy in while it's cheap.
And I had to admit, the idea was appealing. If only because I'd help fuck Amazon into the dirt. Didn't really have anything against them, not really. I just liked seeing titans fall. "Now that's hardly fair -- a mystery? How can I help myself?" I asked with a shake of my head, making her smile grow. She was here for the money and connections and I was mostly curious to see what she would do with them. I had those millions stolen from the bank and I was swimming in cash. This seemed like an entertaining enough pet project to nurse in the side.
"Making friends already, Asami?" Victoria Neuman spoke up, approaching from the side with a practiced smile on her face that did have a genuine edge.
"Just the one," Asami admitted, smiling back at Victoria. I glanced between them. Victoria was a beautiful woman. And charming. I could see why she was as popular as she was.
"Victoria Neuman," Victoria introduced herself.
"Michelangelo," I returned, making her blink as I shook her hand. "I'm a little surprised to see you here senator. Your issues with supes are pretty well known," I remarked and out of the corner of my eye, I saw the edge was taken off Asami's smile. Interesting. Annoyed that Victoria was interrupting the pitch? The timing was a little odd. But the two did seem familiar. Perhaps a donation or three had been made to Victoria's foundation?
Victoria seemed to expect the question and she had a practiced answer prepared, "I'm against supes that would abuse their powers, but this is a tragedy that should concern everyone. Heartless is everything that I have warned about, and I fear he's a great deal worse." She replied, the words pouring smoothly from her lips.
I just couldn't get enough of it. I was a sick man, but it just tickled me pink that she was saying that to my face. I felt like a kid with a secret that no one else knew, high on the fact that I knew and they didn't. "I imagine people are going to be paying a lot more attention to the issue now," I remarked, and Victoria made an expression of resignation.
"They will. I wish it didn't have to happen this way, but they will," Victoria agreed.
Asami spoke up, interjecting herself back into the conversation, "It has made security a real concern. People are afraid. A deadbolt won't stop someone that can teleport." She was right about that. Gun sales exploded across America by 500%. In both red and blue states. There were massive shortages of guns and ammo. Good for me, I figured. I'm pretty sure that the illegal gun business was seeing a similar boom.
I glanced at her to see that she was looking at me as she said it. Ohh? A hint? "I imagine security companies are going to be making a mint."
That got a smirk out of her, "I imagine they would. Companies like Lockheed are going to see a substantial rise in this quarter, but they don't innovate. They follow the trend, refining their product, but they don't create." Huh. Huh. That was interesting.
Asami was looking to get into the military industry. I'm not going to lie -- I didn't really see it. Asami and Future Industries promoted the whole… 100% green, no waste product while also being the cheapest yet most reliable on the market thing. Basically 'We're a corporation but we aren't an evil corporation like the others.' So, jumping into the military sector was kind of a surprise.
"It'd have to be something incredible. I figured that congress would just give in and let Vought in the military," I admitted, curious what exactly Asami was hinting at. She could be blowing smoke, tempting me to buy in. However, I didn't think that was the case from the quick glance that Asami and Victoria shared. There was definitely history there and I was curious what it was. I had found something interesting to entertain me on my days off, it looked like.
"It certainly would be, wouldn't it?" Asami teased, a flirty smile tugging at the edges of her lips.
"No matter what Vought tries, the military won't take them," Victoria stated, sounding rather certain of it. "America has, by far, the highest population of supes. Five times as many as all of Europe put together. Our allies feel nervous with that number already, and directly militarizing superpowers is comparable to nukes. Except everyone knows when a nuke has been used." They sounded like practiced talking points to me, but it made sense, I guess. I never really cared much about the political side of supe culture. I just knew about the media aspects.
But it seemed like a very interesting time to learn, I thought to myself as I glanced at someone that was approaching. I should have waited for him to announce himself, but I just couldn't wait a second longer. I felt like a kid on Christmas morning, just so eager to see what Santa brought me.
"I thought I felt my ears burning, Miss Neuman," Stan Edgar, the CEO of Vought said, announcing himself to the small discussion. He was a man in his late sixties to early seventies, but he aged gracefully. His hair was just barely starting to whiten with age. He was finely dressed in an expensive-looking suit that was tailor fit but more than that, he carried himself with an aura that screamed 'tight ass' to everyone around him. I'm not sure he could even bend over with how far that stick up his ass was.
"Mr. Edgar," Victoria returned, sounding unsurprised at the intrusion. "Here to defend the honor of your company?" Her questioning tone was light but there were thorns in her voice.
To that, Stan chuckled, "I'm afraid there would be little point in that with you," he admitted. "I was hoping to have a private word with Miss Sato," he informed. It was a polite way to say fuck off, I decided. His gaze flickered to me, visibly unimpressed with me, and I could see it in his eyes. He was telling me to fuck right off too.
"Oh~ the CEOs of Future Industries and Vought conspiring? Hold that thought, I'll go find a reporter," I told Stan and tossed a wink to Asami. Stan's face didn't so much as twitch as he leveled a Look at me, one that told me exactly how unimpressed with me. I'm sure if I gave a shit about his opinion, I'd be quivering in my boots, but I didn't, so I wasn't. "Let me know when boring business is done. I'd like to continue our conversation, Asami."
"I'd… like that as well," Asami returned as I walked away. Physically, at least.
I've been experimenting with my power and I had been a bit successful. In theory, everything within my Room was mine to manipulate. However, finding ways to interact with some things was easier than interacting with others. With something like heat? I could just push it out. Make the molecules of an object, like a cup of tea, stop bouncing around so fast and that by product has a tangible effect of hot air. Moving a bit of string was easier when I could see myself moving it -- wiggling my hand back and forth and picturing that one end was between my fingers. That's because kinetic energy could only really be felt, not seen.
The same with sound waves. I couldn't see them, but I could hear them. They clashed midair, intermingling and becoming incomprehensible. A sea of noise that drowned out any single conversation. Worse, everyone was shouting over each other because the auditorium was so full. I hadn't found a solution to my problem yet, but I did find a workable fix. The sound waves that emerged from Stan, Victoria, and Asami were quick to die in the sea of noise. But, if I protected them and sent them directly to my ear?
"-my offer," I heard Stan say as I started making the rounds, floating through a sea of celebrities and occasionally dropping something on the floor. A pin, a pencil, hairpin, and so on. All the big names were here. I'm pretty sure I saw one of the Princes of England too. I was placing where people were -- Cinder seemed to be floating about, but I don't think she saw me yet. Translucent was nowhere to be found, but that didn't say much. The Deep was with a group of people, A-Train was showing off to girls. Black Noir was sitting in the corner, drinking a soda with a straw through his mask.
I hadn't seen Queen Maeve or Homelander yet.
"I haven't, actually," I heard Asami reply, her tone testy.
Stan didn't seem surprised, "I'm certain that isn't true. You're an intelligent young woman. Far more intelligent than anyone has given you credit for." It was a statement. "I believe you're intelligent enough to understand that what I offer is the only possible course of action for you. The offer is a generous amount, Miss Sato."
"It's extortion," Asami rebuked flatly and without hesitation. "Calling it pennies on the dollar is what's generous." Huh. I didn't expect her to be so money focused. Well, I guess that was on me. She was leading a company after all.
"Oh, I don't agree," Stan agreed, his tone placating. "The patent is revolutionary. It's something out of science fiction -- combat droids. Battle mechs. I honestly never thought I would live to see the day. That being said, nuclear energy was once considered revolutionary. A near-perfect solution to energy providing the world with cheap and clean electricity. A threat to the long-established monopolies on energy by the coal and oil industry." His tone was smooth and calming, but there was an unmistakable edge to his voice that I heard from a dozen yards away.
"A threat that wouldn't be tolerated. I remember it quite well. You couldn't turn on a TV without an ad playing about the inherent dangers of nuclear energy. All the prospects of an energy revolution were dragged through the mud, tainted so thoroughly, that even if it was the objectively superior product, no one today dares trust it. Even today. When people think of nuclear power plants, they think of Chernobyl. When I am done dragging your product through the mud, they're going to think killer robots."
Holy. Shit. Asami built killer robots? So fucking cool. I had to see one. I wanted one.
I didn't see Asami, but it was a long couple of seconds before she spoke. "You can try," she spat the words out through clenched teeth.
"I will try," Stan replied, his voice not changing. "Just as everyone will with a vested interest. Your product is revolutionary. Capable of changing the playing field entirely even more so than drones. But it won't be allowed by those that have a vested interest in maintaining the status quo. Your product will face extreme scrutiny by the competition, claiming everything under the sun -- hacking vulnerabilities, performance capabilities, safety issues, removing job opportunities, to the morality of having machines kill for us. Additionally, any profit from any contracts you manage to secure, I will personally ensure are spent on a wide range of lawsuits. To be blunt, Miss Sato, I will bury you in litigation."
Was this man fucking with my killer robots? And being a real bastard about it too?
This time, Asami didn't say anything in response. Stan took that as permission to continue. "Or," he said after a long pause, "You can accept the current offer of fifty million dollars for the patent of these machines, or you can pay us for the privilege of seeing the concept run through the mud." Fifty million? Damn, that was a trash offer. "Take some time to think on it, Miss Sato. I shall require an answer on the current offer by the end of the week." Stan informed, walking away.
"Bastard," Asami hissed through clenched teeth.
I stopped listening to the conversation and continued onward, pursing my lips in thought. "He's good," I decided, looking for something to snack on while I had the chance. Stan was a businessman. I couldn't really judge him for being a businessman. He had a card up his sleeve and he played it. Morality had nothing to do with it. If anything, I respected him more for it. Stan was good at what he did.
I didn't really know much about Stan Edgar. He was the CEO of Vought and he had been for the past thirty years or so. He was competent but private. I never really had any reason to focus on him, but now I did. I had caught a peak behind the curtain about supes. The sex club had been rather enlightening.
Corporate supes were idiots. Honestly, I've seen frat boys with more self-control.
I had always believed that they were the architect behind the grand illusion. The ones that pushed and pushed to the point I couldn't eat cereal without seeing a member of the Seven on the box. But, that wasn't the case. Which made it a question of whose fault was it? And now I had an answer.
It was Stan Edgar's.
I was going to fuck him up. Wasn't anything personal though. Vought was on my shit list in general. It only made sense to target Vought as much as I targeted their heroes.
I found the snack table. I saw a bunch of mini-foods -- quiches, cookies, and caviar. Tried the latter and ended up spitting it out in a napkin. Super gross. When I saw the danish wedding cookies, it was game over because I stacked that shit up. Grabbing a good two dozen of them, I munched through them as I made my way through the crowd, still looking for Homelander and Queen Maeve. There wasn't any sign of them. Did see Tom Cruise, though. So, that was kind of neat.
Stan Edgar caught my eye as I was walking around while he was speaking to a number of senators. He didn't seem to appreciate the wink I sent him before moving on. The danish cookies went too quickly, I lamented before I started heading to the bathroom, figuring that it was time to get the show on the road because my pockets were empty of junk. Just in time too because there was an alarm, or something, that signaled everyone should be getting to their seats. I strode into a swanky bathroom and into a stall.
"Got the stuff?" I asked Robin, creating another Room that expanded outward. Below, I became aware of it -- my bags. Everything that I thought I could need for tonight's main event.
"It's all there," Robin informed me, a hand sprouting in the stall door. "The security has been subverted and I've begun my part in the preparations. This really is quite bold. They aren't at all prepared for it," Robin noted, a chuckle escaping her.
I was shrugging off my suit and replaced it with the attire of Heartless. "Scalpel," I muttered, popping my own heart out and tossing it in the duffle bag, along with my suit. My liver, lungs, intestines, kidneys, and stomach were all tossed in as well. It did leave me with a rather empty torso. I looked like the guy on the Operation game board. But all of that was covered up by my costume and my mask was affixed to my face. When I was dressed, I rolled my shoulders. "How do I look?"
"Ready for the cameras," Robin noted as I swapped the duffle bag, sending it down below. "I'll safeguard your organs until you need them again," she added before I started pulling up the rest of the bags she had smuggled into the basement.
"Appreciate it," I responded, feeling the jitters. I really was having too much fun, I reflected. Robin wasn't wrong about being here -- it was such an unnecessary risk. The entire world was going to be watching. Pretty much every member of the Seven was going to be here, not to mention plenty of other heroes. But every reason why I shouldn't be doing it was why I had to.
I really just couldn't help myself.
"Break a leg," Robin told me, the hand dissolving into pink pedals. I could rely on Robin to do her end. I just had to make sure the spotlight was on me…
And if I had it my way, there wasn't any other place it could be.
