"Alright.” I begin some minutes later, passing a copy of my résumé to each one of the heroes sitting across the metal table. Although I’ve already reached an agreement with Owlman over the phone, I don’t think it would be fair to exclude the rest of the team from the process, no matter how superficial it might be.
The outward appearance of their building unfortunately matched the interior, as some areas had paint peeling off clinical white walls, dusty metal furniture of inferior quality, and three flickering overhead lights failing at fulfilling their only purpose.
“I’m not sure we really need this.” Star Streak says, peering into the pages of the file. His action is copied by his other teammates, all looking equally puzzled.
“Oh, I’m aware.” I reassure, “However, I assume our cooperation would be long-term, yes?”
Owlman nods, “Yes.”, actually reading the first by page. The content includes a summary of my history fulfilling similar positions, the goals I hope to achieve from our cooperation, and just a general overview of myself. Online research claimed it should only be two pages long but I think that was the minimum requirement?
“Great,” I raise to get my last dessert from the oven, offering them a share as I sit back down. Owlman and Martian Mayhem take me up on my offer so I slice them a piece of the apple pie.
“I’m sure you’ve already heard of me from at least one media outlet…” I take a bite, “And my reasons for offering to sponsor your team is rather closely related to that entire debacle, to be honest.”
“You don’t like the attention?” Solar Girl inquires, the gold belt of her blue skirt gleaming slightly in the light. I’ve seen videos of her battles against supervillains and her form, although requiring more technique, is very commendable. She seems lovely.
“Well, to a certain extent.” I agree, “However, I’m more against the type of attention rather than just attention as a whole.” I usually love attention. I would have presumed it was rather obvious considering I had actual murals of myself painted after every new stage of evolution.
“Your media has been very…critical of my country ever since we left isolation, it’s all been a bit overwhelming, truthfully. I’ve not had this much hostility directed at me in a long while.
Anatomic Ana raises her left brow.“I assume the history books didn’t help.” She says, resting her cheek on her palm. I’m not sure the little red mask on her face does anything to protect her true identity… or maybe she’s relying on her brown hair to make her more anonymous?
“No.” My smile turns a bit wry, ”They most certainly did not. I guess it could be argued they did the opposite, actually. I've had to create a system to filter out the sheer amount of negative content we’ve been receiving and the utterly ridiculous false articles being written about me.”
“I try not to let it bother me but- why does everyone care so much about the past?”
They weren’t even alive back then, and it baffles me that they’re getting offended on the behalf of their dead ancestors.
“Yeah,” Star Streak mutters, “It’s been thousands of years already, they should just let it go.”
“Exactly!” I slap the table excitedly, “Everyone was equally horrible back then. Yet, I don’t go around persecuting elves because their ancestors massacred my first city or even humans about the countless pointless wars they waged against me.” And let’s not even speak of their deities, who were personally horrible to me.
Some of which I've even befriended in the last few millennia; sometimes when I'm free I visit their domain and we drink and laugh about the past.
I send him a surprised grin.
“It’s very refreshing to hear such a different perspective. Most people act as if they vehemently expect me to be evil, then try to portray every action of mine to match their beliefs. I’ve even gotten offers from numerous villain organizations making ridiculous claims of world domination or something equally inane.” My hand raises up to touch my face, “I’m not sure what part of my appearance makes me seem like a villain but the sentiment is actually a bit hurtful when I try so hard to blend in; can you guess what’s even more offensive?” I look over them inquisitively.
It’s been a while since I’ve had the chance to really speak with someone other than my kids, and they seem genuinely interested in hearing what I have to say.
It’s great.
“How everyone thinks you’re mind controlling your citizens?” Anatomic Ana guesses, lips curled in a playful smirk.
I laugh. “Incredibly close, but no. It’s the unanimous belief that I’m an alien.” I turn to Martian Mayhem, remembering his origin. “Not that there’s anything wrong with being an alien, I’m sure your civilization is very lovely.”
And probably a lot more advanced, now that I think about it. One of the plans on my agenda is to form amicable relations with other planets. While I’m not sure I could ever visit my original home, considering it’s in another dimension; I think it would be a learning experience to meet the other life forms inhabiting our solar system.
Stolen story; please report.
Owlman looks up from the file, “You’re not an alien?” He asks, tone politely neutral. I'm finding it a bit difficult to read his expression behind the cowl.
“Yeah, No offense but we kinda thought with the whole..” Solar Girl makes a vague motion with her hands, “…you were an alien occupying the planet.”
Start Streak nods in agreement with her words, an action I find odd since I’ve been incredibly blatant about not being called an alien in all of my interviews. Do people only watch certain clips of those to match their narrative then forget every other thing I said?
I take another slice of the pie, “While I’m not a native-”
“Then you’re -“ Boy Wonder begins but I interrupt,
“However neither are the elves, Mermen, Pixies, or any of the other races excluding humans, really; yet they get to call themselves natives while I’m being labeled an alien.”
“Really?” Solar girl, an elf, looks understandably surprised at that information. I guess they left that part out of their history books or just weren’t aware of it.
How convenient.
“Oh, don’t feel bad,” I console, “The humans inhabiting the planet at that time weren’t very human-shaped either. I often mistook them for chimpanzees while hunting. Then they started attempting to run away a few centuries later so I knew they gained sentience. Haha. ”
“….”
A comfortable silence befalls us as I temporarily concentrate on finishing my dessert. I’ve already sent the other boxes to the storage dimension of Methyl and her siblings waiting in the car, so I know they're fine.
Martian Mayhem looks up from his plate, “This is really good pie.” he compliments.
“Thank you,” I beam, “It’s a new recipe. I’m hoping to release it before the end of the year.” We just haven’t decided on a name yet.
An online poll had been created but so far the country has been very divided.
“Really,” Owlman pushes his file away, ”What is it made from?” I guess he’s decided to continue reading it later?
I'm not sure, I mostly skim over wring to retain information.
“Hybrid mutated apples. It’s the first batch produced by my commercial farms.”
His fork pauses over his pie. “I couldn’t tell.”
“Yes,” Martian Mayhem admits, nodding when I offer him another slice. “The deep red of its interior reminds me of blood, akin to cherries.”
I feel my head tilt at the comparison, “Thank you? But hopefully, the similarities end at appearance. Blood can sometimes taste very unpleasant.“ It lingers at the back of your throat and I dislike the stains it leaves on my teeth afterward.
“I see,” Star Streak intones, looking particularly interested in this topic. “What… type of blood would you find…pleasant?” He asks a bit hesitantly, gaining odd looks from his teammates.
I’m not sure why.“Vampire blood.” I reply, Is he feeling shy to ask?
“They became rather scarce a few hundred years ago, but would you like to try some samples?” I have a lot stored in my storage dimension. One of my evolutions made me particularly bloodthirsty.
I gained a lot of enemies during that period.
“Actually, yes.” Anatomic Ana nods, turning to her teammates with a grin, “I believe Star Steak would love to try it. Owlman too; I’m not sure you noticed but-he’s a really big fan of vampires.”
My brow raises at her words. That would certainly explain his all-black attire. There’s no other reason anyone would voluntarily dress in such an upsetting color.
Star Streak looks over to her sharply, eyes widened. “I would?”
“He would.” Owl man decides, crossing his arm and leaning back against his chair. “I…am unfortunately a descendant of some very late vampires, so I’ll have to pass on the offer. Star Streak, however, has deeply admired vampires from a very young age.” His words gather sounds of agreement from his teammates.
“Yes.” Solar Girl says solemnly from his left, “It’s why he’s called Star Streak; since Luna Boy had already been unfortunately coined by another hero from central.” She turns to Martian Mayhem who takes one last bite from his pie before pushing the rest to her.
Sea-Lad takes Owlman’s plate, “He really likes getting bitten during intercourse, it's why his relationships never last. They get scared when he starts asking to drink their blood,” He says, words muffled by the food in his mouth.
An emotion akin to sympathy overcomes me and I reach out to grip the hands of the mortified-looking Start Streak,
"Bu- I don't-" He splutters, his skin under his mask a bright shade of red.
“Don’t be embarrassed,”
“Yeah Star Streak, don’t.” Anatomic Ana echoes from his side, patting his back. She’s such a good friend, I’m glad he’s not being shamed for his deviant interests. It saddens me deeply when I notice such occasions.
“Many members of the nobility in the past also had similar inclinations.” I reassure him, “Your sexual proclivity does nothing to reduce your worth as a person.”
“Yes,” Martian Mayhem agrees, the lines of his lips taut with tension, “Friend Star Streak must be aware we would accept him despite his deviant interests, I don’t mind biting.”
The rest of the interview dissolves into a comfort session as they all begin sharing the moment they realized Star Streak's unorthodox inclination and reassuring him they would accept him for who he really was. It warms my heart to witness such an uplifting moment of love from every member of the team. It would seem my choice to sponsor their further existence had been correct after all, and I make sure to tell them those exact words before we depart.
I exchange contact information with the rest of the heroes and Owlman offers me a place to stay the night, an offer I readily accept considering it’s now past midnight and I have had to return to my main body soon.
“Please, call if anything ever comes up. I’m available at all times of the day, excluding 2-5 in the morning, Haha.” I laugh, handing the last of the gift baskets to Martian Mayhem after a tight hug.
“I’ll be sure to!” Anatomic Ana grins brightly, peering into her gift basket. I had wrapped them in colors similar to their hero costumes so hers was a lovely shade of white and teal.
“Great!” I pull her in for another hug. “Have a wonderful night.”
They were all such delightful people.
===================
===================
“Is this the right location?” I ask our driver, stepping out of the cab with a certain level of skepticism.
The large building behind the black gates looked very different from what had been shown on the online website. like ‘a different shape, color, and size’ type of very different.
“It looks haunted.” Mthyl comments, eyes trained on large life-like gargoyles sculpted on both sides of the gate menacing gates. The amount of detail on these sculptures is frankly admirable. It’s easy to tell they were made with love.
“That’s rude.” Zyl turns to her, shocked, and I feel something akin to pride emerge in my chest at raising such a polite-
“I’m sure ghosts could afford better.”
Never mind.
I flick them both on their foreheads, turning to bid our cab driver goodbye.
Maybe it'll look different in sunlight?