The Fine Art of Monologuing
“Any leads?”
I said it more for the sound of it than anything. Just looking at Dolly could tell me all I needed to know. She sat crosslegged on a massive cushion, empty chip bags and a battery of coffee mugs empty to the dregs all around her. She sighed, rubbing her eyes, the blue glow of the screens all around us washing over her face. “No,” she said. “Nothing yet.”
I nodded, frowning. We were down in her lab under the chalet. The former basement was utterly unrecognizable. Gone were the coal bins, various pieces of old Christmas decorations, and brickwork. I’d miss the giant, rumbling monstrosity of an early century furnace that had been where her monitors now were. The thing had that fantastic ‘1890 possible wrought by demons’ look to it that would have made a great plot device to blow up the building. But Dolly had needed a lab, and for now obvious reasons, had chosen the basement. Now her equipment filled the space, with cabling sprawled like the bulging roots of some mechanical jungle, while screens dangled from walls between bubbling tanks of glowing blue liquids, and neon seams in the walls hummed with light. Altogether, the place made me feel like I was standing inside some gamer’s computer.
It was a pretty decent setup though, especially considering there wasn’t a convenient massive cave system under the chalet, filled with OSHA violating menacing pitfalls and space to store miscellaneous giant pennies and spare costumes. Though, given enough time and Dolly’s need to expand, I wasn’t ruling it out. If I gave Dolly a pickaxe, I bet she’d have an underground lair hollowed out within the week.
“What’s the problem?” I said.
Dolly glared at the holoprojector. It sat on a nearby table, cables plugged into it and snaking back into the servers that blinked around us. “The damn thing won’t connect without a similar signal.”
“So we have to wait for him to make a call?” I said, curious.
Dolly sighed, head lolling back. “No. He needs to make more than one,” Dolly said, tapping her temple intently. “He’s got a bunch of security systems bouncing the signals around, and every one of these communicators runs on a different signal. But they all have similarities, and I’m getting close.”
I raised a brow. “Is that right?”
“Sure is! And next time he puts out a call, I’ll be ready for him,” she giggled madly. “He’s not going to get away from me next time!”
I patted her head. “Good work. We’ll get this bastard yet,” I assured her.
Dolly looked up at me uncertainly. “You really think so?”
“Of course. We’ve got the greatest mind of her generation tracking him down. And we’ll make sure he never bothers you again.”
Dolly snorted, but grinned with a hint of the old Dolly I knew and loved. “Yeah. Yeah, we will, huh?” She groaned, stretching her arms over her head, tilting back to look up at me. “Ya know, Victor?”
“Yeah.”
“I really do appreciate this. Really. Not a lot of guys would take on someone like Teklin for me.”
Poor girl. I reached down and stroked her woolly hair in that way I knew she liked. Dolly moaned softly, eyes lidded. “I’m sure there are,” I said.
“Mmmm,” Dolly hummed happily, squirming in her seat. “Nah. There really aren’t. I did try to find some before. I mean, a mad scientist like me? You’d think guys’d be lining up to get a share of my unparalleled genius!”
“True,” I said.
“But Teklin always made them a better deal,” Dolly sighed, snuggling into her lab coat as I stroked her hair.
“Really?”
“Oh sure! He promised them all sorts of stuff. And I mean, villains like that don’t have a whole lot of ‘loyalty’ standards. Teklin promised if they handed me over, they’d not only get lots of new equipment from him, but whatever I was going to build for them free of charge. Not a lot of bad guys would pass that up, no matter how cute I am.”
“Well, no one said villains weren’t pricks,” I said, which was true enough. To be a true villain required a level of narcissism that, while enabling fantastic evil rants and speeches, didn’t exactly foster a great working environment. There was a reason every evil volcano lair had at least one shark tank to drop failing henchmen into.
“You got that right,” Dolly giggled, crooning softly as my fingers massaged her scalp, one of my hands easing down and stroking her chin. “Mmm. And I sure as fuck couldn’t go to heroes.”
“Why not?”
She snorted. “Aside from the fact most would probably sell me up the river like a villain would? The rest would just throw me in jail. Remember, Victor. I’m a real bad girl. I’ve invented all kinds of nefarious machinery and shit. They’d be all over that.”
Well, that was fair enough. There was a reason I never worked with actual villains. My work was already borderline, and given half a chance heroes and cops would swoop in on me the second they saw me breaking an actual law. Dolly not only worked for villains whose whole schtick was trying to rule the world, she’d probably helped build half the doomsday devices that threatened major metropolises. She was in a no-win scenario.
“How’s the new security measures coming along?” I asked.
“Mmm. Not bad. Got a few tricks and traps set up now. Less than I’d like, but I’m getting there. I installed shutters on all the windows and a few other things to make it interesting. I’d love to test them out, but the mailmen don’t come out here. Either way, we’re lucky General Winter ran this place before us. The Guild is pretty good at fortifying their boss’s lairs, and the walls are nice and thick with reinforcement, not to mention all the security cameras and stuff. No one’s sneaking up on this place.”
“I did,” I pointed out.
Dolly scoffed. “Yeah, but that was before I got to work on it. If you tried that again, I’d blast you before you hit the front doors.”
“So you got the death ray working?”
She wriggled in pleasure, the mere mention of her pet project exciting her. “Soon! Gotta get the power supply in order. Hooked it up to the building’s main generator, but I’m still sinking the geothermal rods. This place is gonna run clean, green, and totally deadly!”
“Never nailed you for an environmentalist,” I said.
“Oh Victor! We gotta protect the environment. That’s where all the fun poisons come from.”
“Fair enough,” I said, giving her hair a final affectionate mussing. “Now, I better go. I promised Psyren to work with her on her villainy.”
“Have fun!” Dolly said as she got back to work before the screens, the clicking of keys following me as I made my way back up the stairs and out of the basement.
I emerged in the main hall and grabbed a sack of old cans I’d left by the door for just such an occasion. I made my way out towards the back of the building and found Glacia waiting for me near the rear exit.
“Sir,” she said, bowing a little.
I nodded and led her outside. I was going to need her for this, or at least someone who could actually see Psyren’s illusions. My own powers prevented her psychic influence from digging into my brain, which was usually a blessing. A lot of psychics had come after me over the year, either to try and force me to be their brainwashed henchman, or as a hero trying to ‘convert me’ to the good side. It had not ended well for them. Bad enough when regular heroes or villains trying to pick a fight with me, but when they try and turn me into a brainwashed slave, that’s when the gloves came off. And since most psychics who’d even try that shit aren’t used to someone being immune to their brainwashing, they always had this wonderfully surprised look on their face before I clobbered them with a Buick. Which was another reason why if Psyren was going to use her powers, I was going to make sure she did it in, if not an ethical way, at least a way that would let people still feel like they didn’t lose ‘themselves’ exactly. Zombified brainwashed was the best way to do that. They wouldn’t remember a thing, and the worst they’d get was a headache and maybe a new fetish. Besides, living in superhero central meant everyone got brainwashed at least once.
The sun was warm outside as we left the chalet, the light washing over me and the back lawn pleasantly. A hedge maze went up not too far, along with some scraggly, browned gardens that looked like they hadn’t seen a spring in years. Not too surprising given their previous owner carried winter around like a hat.
Psyren was lounging near the entrance of the maze and brightened at our appearance. She straightened as we came near. “Hey boss,” she said, grinning as she cocked her hip, the chains hanging from her belts jangling. “All set?”
“That we are,” I said. “Now, this whole set up is going to be a bit… different from what I do, since I’m more of a combat type villain, but I think it’ll lean into your own skills really well. Basically, your job is the dramaticism of the moment. Got me?”
“Gotcha. I just gotta sell the whole thing.”
“Exactly. I want you to show me what you’ve got so far. Glacia?”
“Sir?”
“Tell me what you see when she does it. Psyren?”
“Boss?”
“Here’s the set up for you. You’ve just finished the song. The Songbirds have come onto stage and accused you of brainwashing the crowd. You turn to look at them. What do you say?”
Psyren smirked and spread her hands. I noticed that the hearts in her eyes began to glow that bright pink that said she was using her powers, and the headache I began to get attested further to that fact.
“Heeeey girls,” she said. “So you figured it out? Well too bad! Because I’m just getting warmed up!”
I waited for more, but Psyren dropped her arms. I raised an eyebrow. “That’s it?”
Psyren’s grin faltered. “Huh?”
“That’s all you’re going to say to menace them?” I said.
“I mean, it feels super dramatic when I do it to normies,” Psyren said, frowning. “I can make them piss themselves with fear if I wanted to.”
I sighed, rubbing my face. Hoo boy. I had a feeling it might be like this. “Psyren? How effective are your powers through a screen?”
“What? Like, if someone was recording me on their phone or something?”
“Yes,” I said. “How much impact do your powers have if someone were watching a recording?”
Psyren shifted her weight from foot to foot. “Um… Well, I mean, it can be pretty potent if it’s being seen, you know, live. I can project it through screens to a point. And recordings can still have some of the visual impact.”
“Right,” I said. “But here’s the thing. We’re villains, Psyren. Our fights are supposed to be the kinds of things that get televised. The sight of heroes beating us go up on the internet to be watched dozens of times by fans of heroes. Our defeats are the things of legends! People need to want to see us lose again and again, and the heroes triumph spectacularly.”
“It’s true,” Glacia said firmly. “I watched sir’s battles hundreds of times.”
I nodded. “Yeah. Exactly.”
“I looked at videos of his combats from dozens of angles.”
“Er…”
“The sight of sir locked in mortal combat with foolish heroes and heroines filled me with awe! Nightly I would stay up, watching him do battle with the forces of good, his voice booming in my ears, the sight of his powers filling me with ecstasy as I slid off my pants and-“
“Yes! Thank you Glacia!” I said loudly, cutting her off before things got weird…er. “An-y-way,” I said, looking back to Psyren. “The point is, you have to impress even without your powers. The only true sin for a villain like us is to be boring.”
Psyren tilted her head. “Boring?”
“Boring!” I exclaimed. “We’re more than just superpowered people playing dress up. We’re actors. We are villains! It’s not enough to tell someone you’re going to menace them. You have to make them feel it. Feel the fear! The anticipation of evil being done. They have to want to feel the risk of you achieving your nefarious aims. They need to want to see you try. Want to see you nearly succeed and then, at the eleventh hour, when all hope seems lost, get beaten by the good guys. We are what makes heroes great, Psyren. Us! Without a true antagonist to battle, no hero is worth their salt. It’s a given the good guys win. But we, we must be worth beating!”
I finished, breathing hard. I looked between Psyren and Glacia’s stunned expressions. Um… maybe I overdid that. I cleared my throat. “Well-“
“Woah,” Psyren breathed, and the hearts in her eyes thrummed hot as molten metal. “Yeah. You’re right!”
“I am?” I said.
“Exactly!” Glacia cried, dashing to my side and grabbing my hand. “Exactly, sir! I couldn’t have said it better! You have hit it, sir! That’s exactly it! A true villain cannot merely menace the heroes. He needs aplomb, sir. He needs power! The rush of it. The thrill!”
I coughed, feeling my face flush a bit. “Well, you know. I ah…”
“Yeah!” Psyren said, bounding up towards me as well, grabbing my other arm. “You’re right, boss! It needs excitement! I need to be a real villain! A real bitch! People need to want to see me lose. Because then, they’ll want to see more of me! Oh thank you, boss! I get it now!”
“Uh, yeah. Sure. So, how about trying that monologue again, hm?”
“You got it!” Psyren said. She let go of my hand and bounced back to where she first stood on the lawn. Her back to me, Psyren shook herself, took a deep breath. Then turned.
I actually felt a faint shock at the sight of her. Her smirk was coy, flirty, yet menacing. Her body radiated that smooth confidence and vivid sex appeal of the finest femme fatale. Her hip cocked, belt chains jangling. Her grin cocky as she tilted her head, pink hair tumbling around her face.
And that was what I saw. I could only imagine what Glacia did to make her stiffen, gasp, the villainess pulling closer to me.
“So! Ya caught me,” Psyren giggled, her voice faintly vibrating in the air, laden with her psychic powers. “Whoops! And here I thought you all were too dumb to figure me out. Guess some of you have more self-control than the rest of these morons.”
Nice. Nice. The contempt was spot on, and the backhanded compliment to the heroes was perfect. “Good,” I said. “Keep it going.”
Psyren strutted forward a step, her head tilting back, her smirk growing sadistic. Vicious. “But if you think you’re gonna stop me, I’ve got some bad news for you. Because you’re not the only one who came with a crew. And this battle of the bands is just getting started!”
I couldn’t help but applaud at that. “There we go!” I said, unable to keep the smile off my face. “That’s how you menace a protagonist! Excellent work.”
Psyren preened under my praise, but hell, she deserved it. It could be tough to put in a real off-the-cuff menacing speech, but she managed a pretty solid one. That kind of flair for drama and sense of style would work well for her on the stage against the Songbirds, not to mention give a very obvious cue for the ‘brainwashed’ band members to rush the heroes and have a good quick brawl. A henchmen fight was always a great opener, and leading up to a real super brawl could only benefit the moment further.
“You think I’m ready, boss?” Psyren said.
“Almost,” I told her as I dropped the sack of cans and opened it up. “You have the drama, but we’re going to want to give you a few more tools here. We can’t have you being totally focused on the heroes during an encounter. You told me you had some basic telekentic powers?”
“Yeah,” she said, nodding.
“Good,” I said as I used my magnetic powers to levitate several cans into the air. “Now, what we’re going to do is work on some spatial awareness stuff. You’re going to practice deflecting these cans. This will help you be aware of your surroundings, not to mention see how strong your powers can be. I’m not expecting you to block bullets, though that would be handy. But a lot of streeters don’t use guns, and mostly rely on their powers. However, some do use grenades or arrows or other bullshit, so if you can deflect those, you’re already in a good place.”
“Really? Dodging cans?” Psyren said.
“Sir trained me in this manner as well,” Glacia said promptly. “It was most useful when I was forced to confront those heroes who attacked me in the museum.”
Oof. I’d rather not dwell on that one. But it did seem to convince Psyren a bit more, and she nodded. “Mmm. Okay, boss. Sure. If you think it’ll help.”
“I know it will,” I said. And that was true. We didn’t have much time before Psyren took the stage against the Songbirds, and I was going to make damn sure she was ready for anything that might happen.
But even as I sent a number of cans flying at her, deflected with pink bangs like a popgun, I knew that you could never be ready for everything.