Of Bars and Brawls
Every job that’s more than a job has that bar.
Cops have their hangout. Firemen, lawyers, execs, they all have a particular watering hole that caters to them specifically, and supervillains were no exception.
Not people like the Guild. Those guys had their own swamp lair or something they could do whatever in, and to be honest, the rest of us liked it that way. For us small to mid tier villains, we had Riggin’s.
Riggin’s was a small place on the ground floor beneath some tenement apartment buildings. Riggin himself used to work for Dr. Malefic, actually, but when Malefic botched his scheme to crash the moon into the earth and died on re-entry, Riggin retired and opened up a bar for us villains types. I think he just missed the life, and I couldn’t blame him. It’s not the greatest career, but it’s a lifestyle. A need. Like the military. You might leave it, but an appreciation for a good scheme and an aesthetically appealing death ray never left you.
I got inside and was greeted to a few cheers from some of the regulars. Guys can appreciate a good bout, and my matchup with Electrica had made the rounds by then. I waved at a few I knew, giving a nod to Riggin himself behind the bar as I walked past.
“Good show,” Riggin said, his face a mass of scar tissue that barely moved when he tried to smile. No one said a career taking a beating from heroes would leave you looking pretty. Especially when you didn’t have some super strength or invulnerability.
“Thanks,” I said, heading for a familiar corner of the bar with Glacia following.
In the booth was Steve Smith, otherwise known as Multiple Man. He lounged back there, utterly at ease, dressed in a loose jacket, shirt partially undone, and tacky Oakley glasses shading his eyes. With his stubble and unkempt mustache, he looked the part of the slacker druggie, but I knew better. No one worked harder than Steve, mainly because there were so many Steves.
I took a seat and Steve stirred, tilting his head forward, glasses sliding a little down his nose. His eyes were different colours, blue and green, and he got a lazy grin as he took me in.
“Eeeeey, if it isn’t the man of the hour,” he said.
“Steve. This is Glacia,” I said, nodding to the prim younger woman who took a seat beside me.
“Hello,” Glacia said.
Steve aimed a fingerpistol at her and clicked his tongue. “Ey. Interesting. So, what can I do for you?”
“I’m looking for some henchmen,” I said.
“Henching? Hey, sure, man! Anything for my favorite magnetic personality. Eh? Eh? So, how many you need? A couple dozen?”
“Six would do fine,” I said. “Just need a couple bodies to get thrown around during a heist. Glacia here is debuting a new hero and villain arch.”
Steve cocked his head, tugging his glasses lower with one finger to give me a narrow look. “Huh? For her? Then… Hey. Woah, wait a sec. I thought you worked alone. What’s all this? Huh? You taking on sidekicks now?”
“I’m not taking on sidekicks,” I said. “This is a job. I’m… I dunno. Mentoring.”
“Hey,” he said, squinting at me. “That’s not fair, man. That’s not fair at all. You told me you don’t do that. I’ve been asking you to mentor my sister for months, and you’ve always turned me down.”
“You going to pay me two million for it?” I asked.
“Still, man. Not cool. Not cool at all. C’mon. Give me a break. My sister really wants to get into this business, and you’re the only one I’d trust to show her the ropes. And now I hear you’re selling out? Man. That’s not cool. Not cool.”
I massaged my brow, feeling the beginning of a headache. Fuck. I knew this whole thing was going to be a problem. But I really couldn’t afford to get on Steve’s bad side. Temporary henchmen were tough to come by. Reliable ones, anyway.
“Fine,” I said. “After I finish this job, I’ll look into your sister. Show her the ropes. But it won’t be cheap.”
Steve’s smile stretched his mouth wide as a Cheshire cat’s. He leaned back into his booth, hands spreading before him. “Hey. Hey! No problem, man. You know I’m good for it. And I’ll even do you one better. This job? On the house. No need for money, not for my friend.”
“Thanks,” I said, not really feeling it, that was for sure. I preferred working alone, but now I was going to have to babysit Steve’s sister. And if she was anything like him, it was going to be a pain in the ass. That two million was looking less and less appealing every minute…
Still grinning, Steve swung his attention over to Glacia. “So you’re gonna be my boss, then?” he said with a mocking bow of his head. “Pleasure, my evil overlord.”
“Steve is Multiple Man,” I told Glacia. “His copies are going to act as your henchmen for this job. He knows his stuff, and they’ll do it well. So no worries about it.”
“I’m a professional,” Steve said, picking up his drink and noisily sucking up the last dregs of what looked like a beer through a straw. I could never understand that. What kind of sociopath drinks beer through a straw?
“We’ll be hitting the National History Museum in a few days. Bring them to the usual place. I’ll get them suited up,” I said.
“Ey. No problem, my friend. I’ll be glad to. And tomorrow, how about you come by and meet my sister, huh? Let you get a good look at her, eh?”
I sighed. “I suppose I may as well,” I said.
“Nice. Nice. I’ll see it done. Glacia. Bossman,” Steve said with a tip of his hat. He slid out of the booth, slumping through the bar and out the doors.
Glacia watched him go curiously, then glanced back to me. “Why did you hire him, sir? Couldn’t you have hired regular people?”
I leaned back in the booth and waved at Riggin behind the bar. “Unless you’re already a bigshot, henchmen are almost always a losing proposition,” I told her. “They’re huge money sinks. First, you gotta pay them a decent wage at the best of the times, unless they’re religious fanatics or you mind control some randos. But even that’s not going to work out so well. On top of that, you’re probably going to end up on the hook for their medical bills, have to house them, keep them outfitted, and deal with their drama. All good if you’ve got a flying fortress or a giant cocoon of evil in… I dunno, Brazil or something.
“But freelance villains? We can’t use them like that,” I said. “Most of the time, I’ve got no use for minions. I’m a solo super, and that’s much easier to work. Henchmen take a big investment of time, money, and management, and unless you’re out to conquer the world, they aren’t any good most of the time. Plus, if things go wrong, they’ll be the first ones getting killed, or worse, you get arrested, they’ll flip on you the second the prosecutor gets their hooks into them. Trust me. It’s not worth it.”
“Then why hire any at all?” she asked.
“Prestige, partly,” I said as Riggin came by and dropped off two cool mugs for us. “Thanks,” I told the scarred old bastard, then turned my attention back to Glacia. “Henchmen look good for both you and the hero. You, because it builds up your menace by having goons in coordinated outfits obeying your every command. Heroes because it gives them someone to beat on before moving on to you as the main event. Plus, it makes your loss look better. If a hero beats the shit out of four guys built like they chew iron all day, you being forced to flee doesn’t look so pathetic.”
“I see,” Glacia said thoughtfully, pulling her mug close.
“Exactly,” I said, taking a swig of my own beer. Damn that’s good stuff. “And Steve is perfect for that. His doubles are temporary. After twenty four hours, they poof away, and he doesn’t feel anything. He can handle about two dozen at a time, so even if they get killed or the shit kicked out of them, he’s fine and dandy, and you don’t have to worry about paying medical bills, them selling you out, or anything like that. Win win.”
Glacia nodded. “Most convenient, sir,” she said.
“Exactly. It’s all business.”
I took another drink, and as I did so, I noticed someone coming up to our table. He wasn’t a face I recognized, but that told me more than he probably thought it did. I was an old hand in villainy, and when a newcomer comes into the business, they always thought it was like prison. You knock down the biggest guy there, and that helps your rank shoot up. Which was accurate, if I’m being honest, but didn’t make it any less of a pain.
And I could tell this guy was one of those newbies. He had it all. Top-heavy, likely did construction, wearing a wifebeater to show off the guns and the tattoos that crawled all over him. He had the flush of a few bottles of liquid courage, and a face I’d charitably call pugnacious. Dear God, he was even wearing thick linked chains around the neck and wrists.
“Hear you’re the big guy in town,” he said, resting his knuckles on the top of the table, leaning over so his bulk blocked out the light.
“First I’ve heard of that,” I said.
“Yeah? Then I’m telling you. You think you’re hot shit?”
“Not really,” I said.
“I think you’re a pussy.”
“Really? That’s a surprise.”
“Excuse me,” Glacia said icily, glaring up at the man’s bulk. Had to hand it to her, she didn’t show even a hint of nervousness before the big gorilla. “Sir and I are in the midst of a private conversation.”
“Yeah? Just became public,” he said. “Name’s Earthshaker,” he said, showing off his hand, tightening it meaningfully. “And I got a bone to pick.”
“Do you?” I said philosophically as I took a drink of my beer.
“Yeah,” Earthshaker said, planting his hands on the table again. “I gotta ask what makes you think you’re hot stuff? Getting your ass beat everyday? Tossed around by a bunch of fuckin’ capes? Where I’m from, that makes you a pussy.”
I put down my beer, eying him. Yeah. That was always the problem with my life. You don’t exactly get much respect outside your group when your job is to lose. Sure, other villains in the game can respect the effort, but heroes, non freelance villains, and most civvies see that and think you’re weak. Well, that was unavoidable, but like today, also inconvenient.
“Hey!” Riggin shouted from the bar. “No fights in here!”
“I know, I know,” I said, pushing out of the booth and jerking a thumb at the door. “Come on. We’ll take care of this outside. Sound good?”
“Don’t want me to humiliate you in front of your girl?” he asked.
“Sure, let’s say it’s that,” I said.
“I-“ Glacia said.
“This won’t take long,” I said, making my way towards the rear exit, Earthshaker following, the joints in his fists popping and cracking as he flexed them. Too many get like that when they first get their powers. They think they’re invincible and started looking around for convenient punching bags, wanting to make a name for themselves without having to actually go through the proper work.
Well, time for a lesson.
I opened the door and stepped into the alley, scanning it in a glance. Ah, excellent.
Garbage day.
I hid my smile at the sight of the metal trashcans scattered around the narrow back alley, along with the fair-sized dumpster not far. I could feel the magnetic pull of the metal beginning to hum as I walked out. I suspected Riggin didn’t switch to plastic cans because fights with me happened often, and it certainly beat trashing his place. A bar brawl involving supers was not a pretty sight.
“Okay,” I said, turning back to Earthshaker. “We’re here. Now-“
I heard the whistle of air and jerked my head back, Earthshaker’s fist missing me by inches before slamming into the wall. Brick cratered under his blow, powder raining down from the impact.
“Super strength?” I said as I took a quick step back.
Earthshaker turned to face me, grinning, lazily cracking his knuckles, the chains rattling around his wrists and neck. “Yeah,” he said, grabbing the lid of a garbage can. “I was once nothing but a common construction worker. But then, one night, when all the rest of the crew went home, a meteor fell from the sky and hit the site! When I touched it, I gained incredible physical power. Now, I am the Earthshaker!” he said, metal groaning as he crushed the lid into a ball, tossing it over his shoulder. “And I’m gonna be the number one villain in this city!”
“Interesting,” I said, my fingers spreading out at my sides, feeling the humming magnetism around us, amplifying it. “And I suppose you made those chains yourself?”
He raised his fists with a laugh. “Sure did.”
I love stupid people.
I flicked a finger at him, and with a crash the chains slammed together, magnetically cuffing him. Earthshaker looked at them with shock for a second, then tried to wrench his arms apart. He was strong, the metal groaning, and though the magnets held, the metal didn’t. Earthshaker broke them apart with a bellow, sending links raining down onto the ground.
“You think that’s gonna stop me?” he roared, coming towards me like a pissed off bull. “I’m the Earthshaker!”
“Pretty sure there’s a guy uptown who already took that name. He’s a geomancer or something,” I said as I increased the magnetic pull of his necklace.
“Then he’s next! And when I’m done, I’ll-“
What he wanted to do next would remain a mystery, because what happened was a garbage can filled with rancid food slammed into the back of his head like a sledgehammer, laying Earthshaker out on the ground. He gave another roar and started to get up, but four more garbage cans crashed into him with a sound like a percussion band falling off a cliff, weighing him down on the ground, tipping over and dumping their reeking contents all over him.
“Yeah, I’m sure you were gonna be big,” I said, sidestepping another trashcan as it slid across the ground, joining the pile of them covering him. “But maybe try something smaller next time. Purse snatching, muggings, maybe a ski mask. Seems more your pace.”
“I’ll fucking kill you!” Earthshaker howled, shambling awkwardly back to his feet, barely able to move with all the metal currently attached to him.
“Word of advice,” I said as he took another dragging step towards me. “Maybe think twice before picking a fight with a real villain.”
“Ain’t no more trashcans now,” Earthshaker growled, clanking forward another step.
“No,” I said, raising my voice over the shriek of dragging metal. “But there is a dumpster.”
Earthshaker turned, and his sheer disbelief when he saw the dumpster barreling towards him was a thing of beauty. Not even his superstrength was saving him from that, the impact carrying him off his feet and into the far wall with an echoing BANG!
I moved alongside the dumpster and peeked through the crack. Sandwiched between metal and wall, Earthshaker moaned in pain, but the lolling of his head told me he wasn’t going anywhere for a while. Poor bastard. Maybe he’d learn his lesson after this. But I had my doubts. He wouldn’t be the first one not to, truthfully. But I always tried to let first timers off with a warning. If they tried again though?
Well, I was a villain.
I left him there to stew in unconsciousness and trash, opening the door and slipping back inside the bar. No one even looked up as I did so.
In fact, the bar was looking quite empty.
That gave me a moment of pause. I looked about the room. The few remaining patrons were far away from where I’d been sitting, and even Riggin looked uneasy, his scarred face tight, his hands furiously busy polishing a glass. When I finally looked back at my booth, I was instantly on guard.
There was a man at the table.
I sized him up quickly, and didn’t like what I saw. He was dressed in a suit over which he wore a huge oversized jacket that seemed to almost melt off him. His eyebrows were sharp along with the rest of his face, with an edge to them I didn’t care for, his fingers thin where they rested on the table, his hair slicked back like a Bela Lugosi character. For all I knew, he might even be a vampire. He had that air about him. The look of someone who looks at everyone else as a meal.
Across him was seated Glacia, who looked even paler than usual, but more angry than afraid.
I moved quick back to the table. “Hey,” I said.
“Sir!” Glacia said, shooting up and hastily making space on her side. “I um…”
“You must be Victor,” the new guy said, his voice having a smooth accent I couldn’t place. He smiled and extended a hand that looked uncomfortably moist. “A pleasure.”
“Uh huh,” I said, not bothering to take it. “And you are?”
“Mortrim Lathe,” he said, shrugging off my snub and producing a card with a flick of his wrist.
I took the card, turned it over, and felt the bottom drop out of my stomach.
Mortrim Lathe
Solicitor
Guild of Villainous Foes
Fuck. It was the Guild. No wonder this guy acted like he owned the world. Him and his partners wanted to.
“I see,” I said, placing the card facedown, the coat of arms of a serpent wrapping around a shield with GVF shining like gold. “What does the Guild want with me?”
“Ah ha hah. How modest,” Mortrim said with a smile as greasy as an oil slick. “Surely you do not think your exploits have gone unnoticed by our organization?”
“I was kind of hoping they had.”
“Ah ha hah,” Mortrim laughed again, about as sincere as a snake. “Very amusing, but I assure you they have not. We would be most delighted should you wish to join our group. A mid-tier ranking would not be out of the question. Several of our councilmembers have also shown an interest in having you as one of their subordinates, and our benefits are quite exceptional.”
I bet they were. Just looking at the guy across from me said all it needed to. And I knew more than most probably did about the Guild. I’d never tangled with their upper echelons. The Council of Nine were generally busy trying to cook the ice caps or destroy various nations, but some of their ancillary members had fucked around with me and found out more than once. Usually when I was already on a job and they interfered, meaning I had to deal with a villain on top of a hero, and things got pretty messy. It wasn’t something I liked to do, and I tried to avoid it if possible. The Guild were not the forgiving type, but thankfully the members I’d dealt with hadn’t been beaten too badly. Besides, it was usually blamed on whatever hero happened to come along, which worked for me.
“Thanks, but I’m afraid I’ll have to pass,” I said.
“This is quite the offer, you understand,” Mortrim said.
“I get that,” I said. “But my current obligations don’t allow me to take that on right now.”
Mortrim sighed, tilting his head. “That is… most unfortunate, Magneron. I hope you come to a different conclusion in time. The offer shall remain open until then. My lady,” he said, bowing his head to Glacia.
Glacia just gave him a glare, her lips tight. Mortrim chuckled and rose with almost uncanny smoothness, like he was more liquid than man. The damp slapping of his footsteps seemed to indicate something of the sort as well. I watched him go, keeping my eyes on him until he was well out the door, and only then let out the breath I’d been holding.
“Fucking hell,” I said, running a hand through my hair. “What a day.”
“I’m surprised, sir,” Glacia said.
“Hm?” I noticed the intent look she was giving me. What was that about. “Why?” I said.
“Most would kill to join the Guild. In fact, I believe it’s a prerequisite. Yet you turned them down. Why?”
I snorted. “Glacia, like I told you. The Guild are absolutely goddam mental. They’re all about power, and that’s not what I want. Take a look at this bar,” I said, indicating Riggin’s with a sweep of my hand. “Can you imagine a member of the Guild coming in here for a drink and some chicken wings?”
Glacia thought about it, frowning. “I suppose not, sir.”
I thumped a fist on the table meaningfully. “Exactly. That kind of fame is not something I need. The kind where the only way I’m shopping at the grocery store is if I sent in a giant robot to level half the place first. The Guild wants to rule the world or destroy it. I’ll be the first to admit that the world has some problems, and not everything is perfect. But I don’t think putting in charge the guys who’d throw an assistant in the laser shark tank for bringing the wrong coffee would help.”
“I see,” Glacia said, and her eyes had that shining look again, like I’d just said something super profound. “That’s an excellent way of looking at things, sir. I agree completely.”
“Uh, yeah. Thanks,” I said, noticing that she was actually kind of cute when her eyes sparkled like that. Pretty and crystal clear as a glacier in the sunlight. I cleared my throat. “Anyway, it’s getting late, and I’ve had a long day. We’ll pick things up again tomorrow. Here, give me your number. I’ll call and pick you up, then take you to the old railyard. I want to see what you can do.”
“Looking forward to it, sir,” she said, sliding her phone out. A nice one too, I didn’t fail to notice. I didn’t think that model from Razer was even out yet. Once again, I wondered just who Glacia was, but pushed it from my mind. No. No. Best not to ask and find out. I just had to get her through this job, and that was that.