Author: Harper Kingsley
Series: Heroes & Villains trilogy (Heroes & Villains, Allies & Enemies, All That Remains)
Genre: superhero, science fiction, action, mm
Rating: Teen+ (violence, language)
Summary: Vereint Georges has spent his entire life dreaming of being a superhero and making a difference in the lives of the people around him. Unfortunately, his first venture into heroing doesn't go quite the way he plans and he earns himself an undeserved reputation for incompetence. From there, the recriminations start rolling in.
Is it any wonder that he might just chuck all the good and go for the bad? Because if people are going to treat him like he's crap, why should he go out of his way to save their lives? It's a lot easier being rich.
Read: Chapter Eight
CHAPTER EIGHT
After reading Captain Victorious' report on his run in with Darkstar, Warrick didn't really know what to think.
He hated the fact that he was so unsure about a supervillain actually being evil. The more he found out about him, the less Darkstar came off as being a bad guy as he did a misunderstood one. Sure, he committed crimes and he had no qualms about punishing someone if they messed with him, but that was usually a last resort.
Warrick didn't like the feeling of sympathy that went through him when he thought of Darkstar, especially since he knew the guy would still have to go to prison if anyone could manage to arrest him. Though it was a wonder how anyone was going to keep him imprisoned if he didn't really want to be.
He leaned back in his chair, sorting through the paperwork until he found the blurry photo of Darkstar he'd had enlarged. It was the best picture anyone had, since the guy never stayed in one place for long and he seemed to emit some kind of energy field that kept any kind of camera or video from coming out in focus. It was one of the main reasons that the best images of Darkstar were usually done by artists that had either seen him in person or had him described to them in detail.
Even though the photo was blurry, his mind filled in the details. His imagination let him see those arresting eyes and those chiseled features that were almost too perfect to be human.
Ever since he'd been taken hostage by him, Warrick hadn't been able to think of Darkstar as being a complete villain. The guy confused him, and that was the one thing he had never been able to stand--not being able to understand the motives and motivations of someone.
He chewed his lip and stared down at the picture. Darkstar was wearing one of his ridiculous outfits, which had come out completely in focus. It was only the parts of him that were bare skin that were blurry and out of focus, which was a rather strange effect truth be told.
Warrick figured Darkstar chose his outfits to keep people focused on something other than his face. It didn't really work when people had him right in front of them, though. He was just too good looking for anyone to be able to ignore.
Warrick reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a DVD disc in a clear jewel case. He tapped it lightly on the tabletop, chewing his lip hard enough to bleed if he hadn't been nearly invulnerable.
He couldn't believe he had taken it. He was still waiting for someone like Captain Victorious to come bursting through the door all filled with righteous indignation and blustering questions he really didn't know how to answer.
Warrick had always prided himself on always being on the straight and narrow. He had never gone out of his way to do anything truly outrageous and no one had anything damaging to use against his Blue Ice persona.
So having taken the only copy of the bank's security footage made him really wonder what the hell he was thinking.
It seemed that the only time Darkstar's power to blur digital imagery worked was when he was consciously using his metability. When he was passing as a normal... he basically was one.
Warrick really couldn't explain what had made him steal the security footage. He had barely glanced at it, just long enough to catch a clear view of Darkstar's unblurred, unmasked face, but just a single glance before he'd shut the recording off.
He knew he was doing something completely wrong and probably entirely stupid, but something in him had driven his actions until it was almost as though he didn't really have any choice at all. Just some jealous voice in his head that was screaming out the fact that no one else was allowed to see Darkstar's bared face but him.
And that was the most terrifying thing he had ever experienced.
From the first time he'd seen Starburst, Warrick had been fascinated by the man, but it was only since he'd become Darkstar that it had become something so overwhelming.
He'd read all the books about superheroes and supervillains becoming a little too wrapped up in their enemies. It was an extremely personal relationship, and human nature being what it was, there were instances where superheroes or supervillains had gone over the line and things had either gone dark and deadly, or just to the realms of weird.
He'd laughed derisively at the stories of superheroes marrying their arch-nemesis. He'd cringed at the tale of Lady Sativa who'd become the obsession of the supervillain Rue Manchu, who had eventually become so wrapped up with the idea of possessing her, of owning her so completely that she could never leave him, that in a moment of mad passion he'd slit her throat, skinned her body, and fashioned her heart into a crude necklace. Warrick had been horrified by some of the stories, but what made it worse was the realization that he was becoming part of a story of his own.
It was hard, but he was honest enough with himself to realize that he was becoming too wrapped up with Darkstar. And the worst thing of all was that he just couldn't seem to help himself--he was too far gone.
Warrick twirled the DVD in his hand, knowing full well that he was probably making the biggest mistake of his life. But he was still going to do it.
He opened the case and took the disc out, staring at it for a long moment. Then, closing his eyes so he didn't have to realize his mistake, he froze the disc solid, then crushed it in the palm of his hand, shattering it into pieces too small to ever be reassembled.
The only unblurred, verifiable images of Darkstar had been completely destroyed, and he'd been the one to do it.
"I'm a fucking idiot," he whispered, pouring his hand out into the wastebasket next to his desk.
He was becoming entangled in the ideal of Darkstar, fooling himself with the idea that Darkstar was better than he really was. And even knowing it was going to bite him on the ass, he just couldn't stop himself.
Warrick laughed a little to himself, tasting tears in the back of his throat even though his eyes were completely dry. He knew he was being stupid, but since he was going to do it anyway he figured that when things blew up in his face he would take his just desserts without complaint.
* * *
He was angry and didn't really know what to do about it. It was a slow, grinding burn kind of angry that was actually rather unpleasant to experience.
Vereint leaned closer to the screen, squinting his eyes a little as he reread a few sentences before flinging himself backward in his chair, ignoring the protesting sound of stressed springs. No matter how many times he tried to make things come out differently, it was still the same. And he was just making himself more and more enraged.
Some losers that liked to dress up in Darkstar costumes had decided they were going to try and impress him. That in itself wouldn't have been so bad, but it was how they thought they were going to do it that made him grit his teeth.
They attacked and beat four twenty-something year old college boys to death. Witnesses said the guys had heard the college students making derogatory comments about Darkstar so they took action. And when it was all over, one of them spray painted "AS DARKSTAR WILLS THE DARKSTERS FOLLOW" on the wall above the crime scene.
Vereint felt sickness well in his belly. He probably wouldn't have even noticed the news story since it was in the Russian Times except one of the men had posted a link on his public BioPic page in a kind of resume format and offered himself and his friends to be Darkstar's first minions.
To find out that a bunch of stupid supervillain wannabes had killed people in the hopes of being his minions made Vereint want to throw up. And the worst thing was the fact that this wasn't the first incident, just the most violent.
He grit his teeth hard, wanting more than anything to find those assholes and beat them until their organs turned to jelly. But he was forcing himself to have some self-control and wait until the authorities arrested them.
Though he did take a moment to leave a scathing message on his "official" Darkstar BioPic page. It was maintained by a bunch of fans and he didn't really have anything to do with it, but he did come check it out about once a week to see what new stuff people had to say about him.
Most times the messages were pretty flattering, but this was anything but.
He saw there was a link to the "Official Darkstar Message Board." He didn't hesitate to click it.
He was pleased to see that there was tons of anti-Darkster sentiment. Some people thought that what they'd done was cool, but most people expressed distaste and were calling for the Darksters to be arrested immediately.
It didn't really help anything, though it eventually gave him the time to calm down, but he sat at his computer desk for close to two hours reading what people had to say about him. Most of it was interesting and he ignored anything about the Darksters in the name of keeping his self-control and not flying off the handle like some kind of lunatic.
He figured that if their local police didn't arrest those yahoos pretty quick, then he would have to step in. He couldn't have people going on a killing spree in the hopes of impressing him.
Sure, he'd decided to turn his life toward being a supervillain, but that didn't mean he was a psychopath or anything. He'd never been big on murder and it really kind of freaked him out that anyone would use killing to try and catch his attention.
"Mom would throw a fit if she thought I was endorsing this kind of stupidity," he said out loud, ignoring the weirdness of talking to himself.
He was alone in his latest abandoned warehouse. The only furniture he had added was a used computer desk and an executive desk chair that probably cost more than some peoples' yearly income. He'd stolen it from some douche bag financier that was under indictment for stealing from his clients, so he hadn't felt too bad about snatching it up.
The laptop he was using was brand new and had no personal information stored on it. He was borrowing the WiFi from the business next door, though they would have probably been surprised by how adroitly he had bypassed their firewall and their password protection. It was pretty obvious to him that his Darkstar identity wasn't well-known for intelligence.
He probably should have been offended that most of the public thought he wasn't all that bright, but he figured it actually helped him out. No one expected him to be able to hide what he was doing very well and his computer exploits went largely unnoticed.
* * *
When Warrick got to the League of Superheroes' headquarters, Caspian was quick to fill him in on what was going on in the latest Darkstar news.
"'Darksters?' What kind of name is that?" Warrick snorted. "It's like an inch away from being 'Dorksters.'"
Caspian shrugged. "They may be a bunch of losers, but they're out there hurting people and I guess their group is growing daily. There's already over two dozen of them and there's a bunch of kids out there expressing the same sentiments as their group."
"So what's being done about them?" Warrick asked.
"They're still tracking them down. Word is, though, that there's going to be capital punishment seeked... sucked... pushed for." Caspian opened the bag of barbeque potato chips he'd been fiddling with while waiting for Warrick to show up.
"Damn. So it's going to be one of those, huh?" Warrick rubbed his face. "Great, I can practically smell the PR nightmare from all the way over here. And they seriously don't have any leads?"
"If they do, they sure aren't doing anything about them." Caspian popped a chip in his mouth, crunching loudly.
Warrick waved a hand at his friend. "Stop that, you know that annoys me."
"That's half the reason why I do it. The other half is because the crunching just seems to make them taste that much more delicious." They wandered through the foyer toward the meeting room, ignoring the junior members that were trying their best to capture their attention. "I think we're going to be talking about Darkstar during today's meeting."
"Great," Warrick groaned. No matter what he did, it seemed as though he could never get away from Darkstar. "As if that guy needs anymore attention. I was thinking maybe his ego wasn't being stroked enough and now..." He let it trail off.
"I'm just saying," Caspian said. "The guy is big news, and now he's the big news of our meeting today. I'm sure he'd be very flattered if he knew just how much time we spend talking and worrying about him."
"I think that if he knew, he would mock us terribly and we'd never be allowed to forget it. And do you think you could eat those chips any louder?"
Caspian grinned at him and crunched another chip. "If you really want me to eat these louder, I'll certainly do my best." He licked his fingers in the most annoying fashion he could manage. "The only thing that would make these any better was if I had some pickles. God, pickles sound so good right now."
Warrick looked at his friend closely for a moment. "Have you been smoking the wacky tobacky lately?"
Caspian showed nearly all of his teeth in a smile. "Wouldn't you like to know."
"What the hell does that mean?"
"It means that you're such a goody-goody that you'd probably turn me in to Captain Vic. Which would be totally gay." Caspian licked his fingers then wiped them on the side of his pants. He tossed his empty chip bag in the trash as they passed by it, heading toward their reserved seats as founding members of the group. They were both assured spots in the senior levels for the whole of their lives--unless they did something so completely stupid and against the charter that there was no other choice but to kick them out.
"God, I get the feeling that this is going to be one of those meetings where you just want to stab yourself in the eye before it's over," Warrick whispered, pulling out his chair.
Caspian grinned at him before trying to put on his serious face when Lady Arcana glanced at him. Judging by her snort of disdain, it didn't really go across that well. He just had one of those faces that was made for mischievous smirks and sneers. When he tried any other expression, it came out looking forced and fake, as though he was constantly lying.
Warrick sat fiddling with his pen as the rest of the League members started showing up. He was feeling a little guilty about destroying the surveillance footage and he had this sensation that he was going to be busted at any minute. It was actually pretty unpleasant.
"I wish I'd brought more snacks," Caspian whispered. "I think I get some kind of repressed memory disorder, because it's like I forget every time just how boring these meetings really are. It's only when I come into this room and it's too late that I remember just how lame it's gonna be." He chewed his lip. "Maybe we could get some snack machines installed right outside the doors. That would be awesome."
"Yeah, super awesome. I'll get right on the snack machine petition right now," Warrick said, not looking up from his pen. It was an expensive, silver and gold ballpoint that had some of the smoothest flowing ink he'd ever come across.
"You're such a dick," Caspian said, flopping back in his chair.
Warrick rolled his eyes at his friend. Sometimes Caspian was like a little kid and there was no controlling him when he was in one of his moods. Never mind that they were supposed to be as dignified as possible since this was an open League meeting and there were junior members wandering around, just eating everything up with their eyes.
It would be a major PR problem if one of the juniors opened their big mouth again and stories showed up in the popular "Super Rag" blog about Caspian. The last time it'd happened, Captain Victorious about shit his pants with rage and there'd been reams of anal retentive memos passed around. It was the kind of drama that Warrick really didn't want to have to go through again.
"Chill out a little," he said. "I don't want to have to read anything else from Vic this month."
Caspian snorted. "He wouldn't dare. I think he bored himself last time."
"Still. For me and my sanity, please?"
The grin on Caspian's face said he was about to be super annoying, so it was lucky Captain Victorious came striding in, interrupting him before he could start.
The Captain wore an expression of irritated constipation and his bright red cape swirled around him dramatically. "Let's get this meeting started," he said loudly, stomping his way over to the main podium in his big black leather boots.
Within five minutes, Warrick wanted to jam his pen into his own eye socket and just end it all. Unfortunately, as a senior member of the League, he had to at least pretend that he cared about what was going on with the daily running of the group.
"Your eyes are glazing over," Caspian whispered.
Warrick glared at his friend until the other grinned smarmily and looked away.
"And finally, our most important piece of business today," Captain Victorious said, "is the Darkstar situation."
Warrick felt a jolt go through him and even though he tried not to show that he was paying too much attention, he couldn't help sitting up a little straighter. He needed to be ready in case things suddenly got serious and there was a chance he was about to be busted.
"Darkstar's popularity with the masses has only grown in the past month," Captain Victorious said, his voice grating with disapproval. He didn't like to broadcast it, but those that knew him were aware of the fact that he wasn't exactly fond of normals and their "stupidity." "Now there's a terrorist group running around causing havoc in the name of Darkstar. They call themselves the Darksters."
"They were the ones that beat those college kids to death, weren't they?" Lady Arcana asked.
Victorious nodded. "It was a very bad situation, and the fact that the superhero community hasn't been able to stop them only makes things worse. The media is suggesting that we aren't trying our best, or that our best just isn't good enough. They're making us look bad."
"So what do you want to do about it?" Caspian asked, cocking his head.
"I want everyone to be on the look out for those losers. If you see them, either handle it or place a call to the rest of the League. We can't let them just keep running around doing whatever they want."
"But aren't they a bunch of normals?" Urban Lizard asked in his gravelly voice. He was wearing his usual tattered jeans and torn black tee shirt. He didn't feel the need to wear an official costume considering he had the head and torso of a salamander-type lizard creature and his bottom half was a mystery Warrick really didn't want to explore, though rumor had it that it wasn't human or lizard looking.
"They crossed the line," Captain Victorious said sternly. "They made the decision to play a serious game, and I'm sorry, but I'm just not in the mood to play anymore. The normal police haven't been able to stop them, their numbers are growing, and the acts they've been committing have become more and more violent. Take their latest act of terrorism for instance." He pressed a button on the side of the podium and a screen lowered.
The images that began displaying were sickening. A ditch filled with broken and brutalized bodies that had been half-burned to blackness while still alive. Monsieur Fantastique, the French superhero, was standing off to one side with a handkerchief covering his mouth and nose, his very body screaming with disgust.
"What is this?" Lady Arcana asked.
"Earlier today, the Darksters announced on the Darkstar BioPic page where these bodies could be found in France," Captain Victorious said. "By the time Monsieur Fantastique and his group arrived, most of the victims were already dead. Out of fifteen people, only three were still alive, and there's not much hope they're going to last too long even with Guérisseuse using her healing ability on them. Whoever burned them seemed to have a minor pyrokinetic ability that kept the flames burning for hours without killing the victims. But they felt themselves being burned alive and even if they manage to survive, there's not much chance they're not going to be severely psychologically damaged.
"The Darksters are nothing but a bunch of sadists and they need to be stopped. Immediately."
Warrick stared at the images as they flicked past, first photos of where the bodies were found, then hospital pictures of the three living victims wrapped like mummies, their hands and feet nothing but blobs from the amputations. And at the end, a column shot of all the victims pre-horror show. None of them could have been older than twenty, the youngest a black haired girl of about fourteen with a bright cheesy grin.
He wondered what Darkstar thought about what was being done in his name. And then he had to wonder why he even cared.
"So what are we going to do about those losers?" Caspian asked. "I mean, you're not honestly suggesting that the only time we're going to handle them is when we come across them. We are going to actively seek them out and kick their asses, right? They're nothing but a bunch of kid killers."
"The problem we're seeing is that they have branches all over the planet. There's even word that there's a small Darkster cell in Iraq that's causing trouble for the new government."
"How are they communicating with each other?" Lady Arcana asked, her faux-Russian accent thicker than usual. She was disgusted by what the terrorist group had done.
"On the internet," Masque said. "They have a whole underground message system going for planning their acts, but then they post what they've done on the Darkstar page of BioPic after they've already left the scene of the crime. It's kind of a 'Look what we did' type of deal. It makes it hard to track where or when they're going to hit next."
"Do they have Darkstar's backing?" Bonecrusher asked. Most people took one look at his over-muscled physique and labeled him stupid, but that was far from the truth. Though he was rather quiet, which didn't really help with his reputation.
"He hasn't made any public announcements one way or another," Masque said. "Though there was a recent post on the Darkstar BioPic page that called for the Darksters to stop what they're doing or else. The poster went by 'Darkstar3499' and identified himself as the 'real' Darkstar. Most people have labeled him a wannabe and some individuals that have been identified as Darkster members have basically just told him to shut up and mind his own business or he'll be their next victim. He only made the one post, but common opinion is that he's just some guy and Darkstar doesn't really care what the Darksters do as long as they don't make him look bad."
"They're trying to curry Darkstar's favor by committing ever more heinous acts," Lightspeed said, pushing up his glasses. He snapped his fingers at his sidekick, Kid Nitro, who blurred a second before holding out a cup of fresh, steaming tea. The British superhero sipped his tea delicately, gracing the boy with an approving smile before turning back to the rest of the group. "Until he acknowledges them, whether with approval or censure, they are just going to continue killing and causing trouble. And his popularity with the masses means that their group numbers will continue to grow. So we need to do something about them before the situation gets too out of hand."
"How much more 'out of hand' can it get?" the Flame Burst demanded, slapping his hand down on the table. "They're killing people! I mean, once you're murdering in the name of, what else can you do that's worse?"
"Their body count can only get larger," Lightspeed said. "They went from four victims, to fifteen, and the treatment of their victims has become ever more violent and sadistic. And with the way they're spread out across the globe, there's no way that the normal authorities will be able to track them all down. My suggestion is that we talk to the super groups of the other countries and come to an agreement that these Darkster fools be handled."
"That's your answer to everything, isn't it?" Witch Fire sneered. "No matter who it is, you always think they need to be 'handled.' You probably have a bigger body count than the worst supervillain out there."
"Now is not the time for your personal disputes," Captain Victorious interrupted before Lightspeed could respond. The two of them had been at each others' throats from the minute they first met. If there had ever been an instance of hate at first sight, Witch Fire and Lightspeed were the embodiment of the sentiment.
"I will continue to monitor the internet," Masque said brightly, casting a nervous look at Witch Fire. Masque was a cheerful and perky girl that always tried her best to keep the rest of the team from killing each other. Sometimes Warrick thought she tried too hard to be liked, though he didn't have any problems with her personally, other than minor annoyance on occasion.
"During your patrols, you all need to keep your eyes open for any signs of the Darksters," Captain Victorious said. "Masque will try to trace them on the internet, and once they're discovered they will be handled."
Warrick didn't really like the fiery look in the eyes of the rest of the group, but he couldn't really blame them either. The Darksters had executed a bunch of children and they needed to be punished for their crimes.
"We'll have another meeting in a couple of weeks," Victorious said. "Keep an eye on your messages for an announcement of when it'll take place. For now, you're all dismissed."
As they were walking out the door, Caspian leaned close. "Do you remember when we voted him in as our lord and master?"
Warrick quirked his lips. "It was probably around the same time he adopted that asshole hairstyle."
"Heh. That's good. I'm putting that one on Twitter," Caspian snarked.
"Yeah, then you're going to be surprised when we're relegated to shit duty for the rest of our lives," Warrick said.
"Totally worth it, man."
Warrick allowed himself to be lulled by Caspian's sense of humor into a state of calmness. He needed something to get the image of dead bodies out of his brain before he had a breakdown or something.
* * *
He was not happy.
Word on the internet and what was showing up on the news all just kind of added up to a state of dissatisfaction. And the name of his unhappiness? The Darksters.
They were causing the kind of trouble he had never thought would be committed in his name. Not just manic mayhem, but actual death and dismemberment. The victims were just piling up and there was no one to stop them.
He hated what they were doing in his name, but everyone just ignored his posts on BioPic when he tried to tell them to stop. It seemed the masses thought he was a fake pretending to be himself, which was a whole other level of infuriating.
"I can't handle this crap," he said to himself, then realized yet again just how ridiculous it was to talk to himself.
He needed to get out and do something. But considering what was going on around his Darkstar persona, he figured he was a lot better off just being his real self.
Which was why he had booked himself on a world cruise that would have him out of town for close to a month--twenty-five days and nights away from his problems. It had been a little pricey, but it was worth it for his peace of mind. And it wasn't like he couldn't always rob another bank if he felt like he was running out of money, which he didn't really see happening anytime soon.
Vereint had to admit, even if it was only to himself, that his career as Darkstar had been going pretty great for him. He'd already amassed quite the little nest egg if he ever decided to stop what he was doing, which he didn't really see happening anytime soon. He had found something he was incredibly good at and he honestly didn't think he was ever going to stop being Darkstar.
He sighed heavily and snapped the laptop closed, casually crushing it between his gloved hands. There were a few sparks and a cloud of foul smoke, but he ignored it as he pressed the computer into a four inch cube that no one was ever going to get any information from.
He tossed the cube into a corner and rose to his feet. He needed to start getting ready for his trip, and when he came back he would have to find a new hideout, not that he really minded.
There was a rather unpleasant urine odor permeating this particular warehouse. It was a remnant from the homeless people he had run off when he'd taken the place over.
The next place I get is going to be somewhere much higher classed than this dump, he thought. Maybe something like an abandoned hotel or an expensive condo whose owners were on vacation.
"No more warehouses for me," he said, nodding his head firmly as he stalked toward the window he'd been using to fly in and out of. It was the only working entrance since he'd sealed off any other doors and windows with sheets of corrugated steel he'd lifted from a local hardware store and welded into place.
He figured some future somebody was going to have a hard time getting into the place, but that wasn't really his problem. He'd gotten full use from the warehouse and he was done with it.
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