Chapter Text
It was the dead of night. The rain drummed against the roof, knocking politely on the tiles; it was the soundtrack of a moment of silence, only interrupted by the rude presence of certain little noises: the faraway call of wind, soft breathing, the scratching of a pen against a white page.
The heated environment, already cluttered with a surprising amount of objects, was welcoming and foreign at the same time, as one’s room in a newly bought house could be.
Holed up in one of their dwellings, two supers (along with a certain number of furry animals) faced the consequences of the day that had just gone by.
The older man was at the desk, illuminated by the honeyed light of a tripod table lamp. The other one watched out of the window for a handful of seconds, before getting closer and letting himself fall on the free chair at his side.
Despite "holed up" being the first term that came to his mind, the two weren't hiding at all. The entire nation knew of their existence, and hungrily searched for new informations about them, about their deeds, their past, waited with bated breath for their next move. It was only the natural course of events in the end, when it came to people that were as powerful as they were...
There were two types of power.
The first was an apparent, clear kind, that didn't need to hide and on the contrary gained strength from being flaunted; it originated from physical strength, fame, money, social status.
And then there was that secret and subtle power that, like a shadow, could only exist until it wasn't exposed to open light. To master it, one had to pay the price of always acting in those shadows, but it allowed them to make extraordinary acts happen, even miracles: to change people's minds, to plant seeds of ideas and make them bloom.
He, the younger man, was used to finding himself with a great deal of power in his hands since he was a child, but this... it was new and it was a lot, it was blatant, and so intoxicating it was vaguely unpleasant, like being drunk. This was what the man with dark curls and stormy eyes was pondering upon, and on what it meant to deal with all that power, when part of the shadows that had allowed him to act so far were dissipated.
«What's a superhero? What makes you one?» He suddenly asked, as if they were in the middle of a conversation. His voice seemed even warmer and sharper than usual after the silent pause between them. «They never really tell you at the academy. There's just this... hovering feeling, that you should simply know it, that it should be right and obvious, but everyone really means something different when they say it. How can you be a superhero without even knowing what that means?»
«Every label has its own blurred lines. Do you wish to talk about it?» His interlocutor gently invited him.
The older man was taking some notes in an elegant handwriting, the round glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. He set the pen aside, near the open notebook, turning to give the other attention.
«I'd like to understand what am I, or at least, what I'm not... please»
«Alright then» The older man tapped on the desk with a hand, a little echo of the rain pouring outside «A superhero, to be such, must certainly have super powers, superhuman skills and abilities that are difficult to replicate for others»
«But how does a superhero behave?» insisted the first
«They have high moral values, and they should be able to embody the concept of goodness. But let's leave it at that: they're still people, and everyone of them will inevitably behave differently from the others. You'll have to remember to never let a name limit you, never»
«I was thinking of something in particular, to be honest. To kill a bad person, to hurt them, even if they never personally harmed you... can a superhero do that?»
«Certainly. Evil deeds can sometimes be essential to obtain good results; let's return to your example» the man with glasses lifted his hands, left and right, carefully keeping them apart from each other «Taken on its own, killing is considered to be an evil deed: it is to extinguish a spark of life, something precious and unique. But to wipe out a source of pain and wickedness is considered to be a good action, because it allows you to preserve the sparks around it. Can you even compare putting off a flame destined to warm up a poor, cold fellow to doing the same with a flame destined to consume a forest?»
«What happens if the cold man dies because I extinguished the forest fire?»
«In that case, the man died at the hands of his own stupidity: you're not supposed to warm yourself with burning forests. Don't look at me like that, I'm continuing the metaphor. Everyone should act according to careful choices, to avoid being in the wrong place at the wrong time; feeding off of evil makes you harmful»
«But good and evil are such relative concepts! If even killing is allowed, what's the difference between superheroes and supervillains?»
«Their motives»
«I'm not convinced of that. I believe that if so much freedom of action is granted, both of them are just applying their ideas, and are perhaps feeling authorized to impose them. Who could tell me I am wrong? Maybe the man I killed by robbing him of his warmth would have saved one thousand forests in exchange for one, in the future»
«I don't think that the world will be a worse place without a man that starts fires when he's cold»
«Okay, okay, it makes sense. And what if... you liked it... to make those who you think are arrogant and noxious suffer?»
«Who doesn't like it?»
«I don't know if a hero can enjoy the punishments they give, and that they give basically only according to their own opinions at that. What would that make of me, then?»
«Human. Barbaric and emotional, sensitive and cruel, like the rest of us. There's a spectrum with so many different individualities that the wish to hang a silk noose around an enemy's neck is only sincere»
«One should try to keep up appearances though, my good sir. Very few people would have been so blunt about it».
The man with glasses nodded. «It's all about masks, just masks and costumes. A super is a thinker that has more freedom than everyone else because they can do what is impossible to others, thanks to their special abilities. Thanks to those they can act, but they will be seen as heroes only from those who agree with these actions»
«Is it just a farce?»
«No, merely a point of view. And it's the same, but specular, for a supervillain. They might even be the same person»
«In all of this, how am I supposed to feel?»
«You could feel super partes».
The man with dark curls shaked his head: «I don't think I can, I'm too involved. It may be a good concept for a deity, not for a "free thinker"»
«And aren't we all created in his image?»
«Oh, this was out of place. Do you even believe in God?»
«How many difficult questions, tonight. It would be better if you settled for a goodnight kiss»
«Probably yes, but... oh, heck. You're really clingy».
The one with glasses leaned over to place a kiss on his cheek, which the other, despite his huffing, didn't escape.
«Here's a little kiss and an answer. You are you, and the masses can be manipulated. Believe in yourself and the others won't believe in what they see, but in what you will show them. Now, tell me what you think a superhero is»
«Strength. A superhero is the tower that doesn't submit to the wind, the waves crashing down on the rocks until they erode them, someone that can thrill your heart like the most beautiful of songs and won't give up until you can be proud of them and yourself. They're a protector, a visionary, someone able to invade thoughts and create obsessions in those who know them. You know, basically, it's a dog».
«Your description has been very romantic until the last sentence» The man with glasses made a pause for reflection, and added «Then it was even more»
«You faced the pragmatic side... I do what I can» the other shrugged, smiling
«Do you think you could ever be that person?»
«I think... I think so. Thank you»
«It's late now, I believe I should be heading to bed. Goodnight>>
«Goodnight»
«...»
«Isn't this a weird dialogue, between us supervillains?»
«Come on, time to sleep».