Chapter Text
Looking around the frankly quaint apartment they would not be calling home for the unforeseeable future, S pondered how they had gotten into this situation. Their sharp hearing could pick up the soft clinking of D moving around in the kitchen, mixing up some sort of drink to “welcome in the new guest.”
D was nice. So so nice, and S just couldn’t get it. When they had first stumbled upon this new, up-and-coming villain, S was embarrassed to say they thought they were nothing. Just some insignificant pebble along the path of life. Now, that’s not to say S thought that maliciously. There was no ill will towards them; that was just a side effect of being the biggest and baddest villain in Capital City. When even the greatest league of heroes couldn’t kill them, then some D-Tier villain that failed to rob a dive bar (of all things) didn’t exactly inspire much emotion from the villain.
But then they’d looked up at S, blackened eye and a dribble of blood across their shirt that looked kinda like they threw up on themselves (gross, S passingly thought), and instead of the eyes of some defeated schmuck, shone the eyes of an animal. Feral and untamed. They didn’t spare S a second glance before dragging themselves off the ground, setting their shoulders, and marching back into the bar.
S had moved on the day, wandering back to their lair, but those eyes lingered in the back of their mind. It’s not like they were special, S argued to themself. Now, like their own eyes. Piercing and cat-like. Off-putting. That’s what people told them. No, those eyes were very human. Brown, round pupils, the most average eyes around. Nothing special. That was the mantra S spoke in their head as they surfed through Today’s Earth.
Nothing special.
“This just in, large meteor diverted by A-Tier team-”.
Nothing special.
“Local dive bar The Siren’s Call discovered to be a cover for a human trafficking ring, mysteriously taken down by an unknown-”.
Nothing special.
“Interview with up and coming C-Tier hero Catacly-”.
Nothing special. But a brown-eyed figure took form in their dreams.
From then, the brown-eyed person kept popping up in S’s life. Running away from the cops after robbing the bank (a little cliche), running away from some hero after setting fire to a CVS, running away from a jewelry store they had just stolen from. Most of their interactions included the brown-eyed person running away from something. But they always waved at S as they passed by. And so what if S tripped some cops as they sprinted past? They rarely got to have much fun when they were so busy plotting the end of the world and all that.
Soon the waves turned into conversations and conversations into a budding friendship. All culminating in S knocking on brown-eyes’ (though they learned they were called D) door, asking for a place to stay. Now they’re here. Sitting on a soft, old couch, feet in warm little guest slippers, nursing a cup of hot chocolate, listening to D talk about their day of villainy. Brown eyes lit up in excitement as they waved their arms around, essential to the storytelling. And S thought to themselves that they could get used to this.