Cape High Villainy_A Side Story

by R. J. Ross

  “You’re not paranoid if someone’s really out to get you!” Ariel says cheerfully. “Nico-bots, show us the time that we did that cheesy eighties dance-off, again! I LOVE that one!”

  The wall lights up with the three of them wearing leg-warmers and big hair and Ariel starts clapping excitedly. Doris looks at the video and gives up. “Fine, I’ll go get the popcorn,” she says, heading for the kitchen again.

  ***

  *Somewhere in a Mad Scientist Lab*

  “Not another one! That’s the second one this week! Igor! Go buy me the parts for another one!”

  “My name isn’t Igor—“

  “I said, BUY ME THE PARTS!”

  “Yes, Master.”

  SHADOWMAN

  Shadowman… what can I say about Shadowman? Shadowman is the poster child for the underbelly of the Cape High super universe. He’s been involved in several of our big plots (just for the money, of course,) and has been known to jump ship whenever things get too dangerous. He has very few redeeming qualities, and yet… I still enjoy writing him. I won’t go so far as to say he’s my favorite side character villain, but he’s definitely one that will be around for the long haul. (That is, if he ever gets free from his current job as the Hall’s lackey^_~)

  Shady Conversations

  “So,” Shadowman says, leaning back in Isotonic’s chair. He’s got his son on the line, much to the kid’s irritation. “How’s it going? How are your grades?”

  “Really,” Rocco says, “do you really expect me to believe you care? What do you want, Shadowman?”

  “Who says I have to want something to call my only son?” Shadowman asks innocently.

  “That we KNOW of,” Rocco says. “I wouldn’t be surprised if I wind up with half-siblings all over the world.”

  “I haven’t picked up on any,” Shadowman says honestly. “I mean, sure, they could still be too young to be showing their powers…” Rocco stares at him. “But that’s not why I called.”

  “Why DID you call?” Rocco demands.

  “I’m bored,” Shadowman says, kicking his feet up on Isotonic’s desk. “Ever since we brought in the last of the escapees—“

  “We? You didn’t bring in ANY of them, old man,” Rocco says.

  “Technicalities,” Shadowman says, waving it off with his hand. “It’s hardly my fault that Superior and Isotonic can’t see eye to eye. You know how it is with these S-class guys, egos ten times bigger than their IQ’s. So… I’ve noticed you’ve been running around a lot, lately.”

  “Your point?”

  “Find any nice places to set up a home away from home?”

  Rocco groaned. “No, I’m not going to find you a place where the capes can’t find you,” he says, coldly. “If that’s all you want to know…”

  “Talked to your mother, lately?” Shadowman says. “How’s she doing?”

  “Leave my mother alone,” Rocco says.

  “I have nothing against your mother,” Shadowman says, honestly surprised that he might think that. “A lovely woman, I’m sure.”

  “You really can’t remember who she is, can you,” Rocco says, groaning. “We’re all better off that way, if you ask me. Also, when did they give you an office?”

  “This old place?” Shadowman says, motioning to the rather lush décor. “I picked it up for good behavior.”

  “You’re lying. The call said it was coming from Isotonic. I was HOPING he was calling to get me on the books,” Rocco complains. “Instead I have to look at your ugly mug.”

  “No, no, I’m not ugly, that would be a pain,” Shadowman says. “I am perfectly average looking in every way. People can’t pick me out in a line-up, which is a very nice thing to have. It’s a shame that you look the way you do.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “I just had to have a pretty boy for a son,” Shadowman complains. “Generations of plain looking guys with our powers, and what happens? We have a pretty boy for an heir. If anyone here should be complaining, it’s me.”

  “If that’s all this call is about, I’m hanging up,” Rocco says. The screen goes black and Shadowman lets out a little snort of amusement. Like he’d let the kid do that. He glances up as the office door opens and Isotonic walks in.

  “What were you doing?” Isotonic demands.

  “I called my kid,” Shadowman says honestly.

  “I see. Well, that’s fine, but get out of my chair, would you? I’ve got work to do.”

  ***

  *Three days later*

  “I think I’ve found the stupidest cat video on the internet,” Shadowman says, proudly. Rocco stares at him from the screen in front of him.

  “And that’s enough to call me about?” he demands.

  “It’s something that should be shared, don’t you think?”

  “No, no it’s not,” Rocco says, only to groan as Shadowman starts the video playing in the corner of the screen before he can hang up. “Great, now I’m never going to get that song out of my head.” He hangs up.

  ***

  *Two days later*

  “Turns out that there’s a super who specializes in changing people’s appearances,” Shadowman says cheerfully. “I’ve got an appointment lined up for you for a month from now, we’ll fix those pretty boy looks of yours, no problem.”

  “I am NOT getting plastic surgery to look boring,” Rocco says, almost laughing.

  “You just don’t understand the importance of a normal appearance,” Shadowman says.

  “Cancel the appointment, Shadowman, I’m not going.”

  “You’ll regret this for the rest of your life, you know,” Shadowman says.

  Rocco hangs up.

  ***

  *Two days later*

  “Hey, can you get Nico to set me up with that game thing you’ve got going on?” Shadowman asks.

  “You want to play the Technico game,” Rocco says.

  “They have me just sitting around doing nothing, right now, so yeah, I’d like to play a video game,” Shadowman says. “Come on, it wouldn’t make much of a difference, right?”

  “How’d you find out about the game, anyway?” Rocco asks.

  “Isotonic heard about it from his daughter, so he’s been trying to get the North Branch in on it.”

  “And you came to me, because he hasn’t gotten it yet, huh?”

  “Exactly,” Shadowman says, grinning wickedly.

  “If I do this, will you stop calling me all the time?”

  “I swear I will,” Shadowman says.

  “Fine, I’ll talk to Nico.”

  ***

  *Two days later*

  “So,” Shadowman says over the earbud he’s wearing, “how do you play this game, anyway?”

  His son’s avatar turns and stares at him before he hears Rocco groan. “THIS is why you swore you would stop calling me, isn’t it?”

  “Who needs to call when I can bug you in a game?” Shadowman says.

  PHOEBE WOODS

  Phoebe Woods is the daughter of Massteria, one of the Cape Cell convicts that got loose in the last plot arc. She originally had psychic powers, specifically the ability to invoke terror and mass panic, just like her dear old dad. Those were stripped from her after she went after Max and his family, and she was sent back to her job as an actress that specialized in horror movies. So why am I saying all this? Most of you know it by now, right?

  Well, it’s because Phoebe Woods hasn’t given up on getting her powers back, especially since she met Star Born. The story that follows was originally supposed to be in Rocky Road. It turned out to be too long, so I pulled it and turned it into a short<3 This is actually the reason I started this compilation to begin with! This and the excuse to write Skye and Cubby stories^_^

  Two Faced

  “Crashtastic, super hero, as well as stuntman for super movies,” Mastermental says, leaning back in his chair and looking at his son. Max is flipping through the man’s file, now. “He wants to transfer here, temporari
ly, because he plans on being the stuntman for the next Liberty movie—Ken’s, to be precise.”

  “He’s not muscular enough,” Max says.

  “That’s not for us to decide,” Mastermental says. “He’s asked for admittance into the territory for a few weeks, planning to get to know Ken and how he fights. He says Kansas City is cheap, so he’ll provide his own housing.”

  “What does Negatia say to this?” Max asks, pulling out a picture from the file and looking at it. “Wouldn’t she be losing an important part of her team? According to this, he’s a very decent B-class cape. Super speed, strength, flight…”

  “She says he’s too busy making a name for himself as a stuntman to be much use to her. He has the Hollywood bug, apparently.”

  “So she couldn’t care less?”

  “While she didn’t put it in those words, precisely, yes, that’s how I read it, as well,” Mastermental says dryly.

  “So… he’s just planning on following Ken around for a few days, right?” Max says. “Have you heard anything bad about him?”

  “I’ve heard almost nothing at all,” Mastermental admits. “You’ve yet to go to Negatia’s Hall, correct?”

  “I’ve been to Century’s,” Max admits. “Century’s was pretty much exactly how I expected it to be. He’s definitely not someone I want to make an enemy of, but I don’t think that will be a problem.”

  “You had barbecue for lunch and went to the theme park for the afternoon, didn’t you,” Mastermental says.

  “We did have a bit of an argument over who has the better barbecue,” Max agrees, grinning slightly and leaning back on the back legs of his chair. “I’m lined up to go to Marigold’s next Monday. I’m not sure how I feel about it, but it should be interesting.”

  “So what do you think we should do about this Crashtastic?” Mastermental asks.

  “You’ve already decided, haven’t you?” Max asks, closing the folder and tossing it onto Mastermental’s desk.

  “I’ve decided that this is for you to deal with,” Mastermental says, much to Max’s surprise. “You can do all of the research that you want, or even go meet him, if you wish. Or you could just say yes or no. This is up to you. I have more important things to worry about than a Hollywood want-to-be.”

  “Thanks, Dad,” Max says, snorting. “So basically, on top of all my other duties, I’ll be babysitting a movie star with flight abilities.”

  “I’m impressed with how quickly you’ve picked up on things,” Mastermental says. “Now I believe you have work to do, correct?”

  “It’s good of you to acknowledge that,” Max says as he stands, scooping the file back up. “Also, Zoe wants to cook this Friday, are you going to be home for dinner?”

  “I’ll make sure I am. She’s a wonderful cook.”

  “Then I’ll just be getting permission to enter the West Hall,” Max says, sighing. “Negatia hates me, you realize.”

  “Yes, I do,” Mastermental says.

  “This is going to be fun,” Max says sarcastically as he walks out the door, waving his goodbye with the file.

  ***

  *West Hall Branch*

  “Yes, thanks,” Crashtastic says, still on the phone as he walks into the West Hall. He’d been called in, and he isn’t sure what to expect. He’s almost positive that Negatia has given up on him. Then again, he realizes, it could be about his request to go to Central. He’s extremely excited about the upcoming movie auditions—it could be his real break-through as an actor! He stops and looks around the meeting room, expecting to see Negatia. All he sees is an Asian looking teenager wearing a pair of ratty jeans and a Technico t-shirt. Crashtastic hangs up his phone and slips it into the pocket of his cape. “You don’t look like you should be allowed into this part of the Hall.”

  “You think?” the kid asks, grinning crookedly. He’s lounging in one of the plastic chairs near the door with one hand in his pocket and his phone in his other. He puts the phone away and stands. For a second his posture is perfect, and there’s a strangely formidable aura coming off of him, but it disappears as he slouches. “You’re Crashtastic, right?”

  “Yes, I am,” Crashtastic says. “Should I call the security?”

  “Oh, you can, but it’d be really annoying for both them and me. The name is Max,” the teen says, holding out a hand. “I’m here to talk to you about your request to spend some time in Central. Why don’t you take a seat?”

  “You’re a kid,” Crashtastic says, only to suddenly question that assumption. Yes, he looks about eighteen, at most, but his instincts are trying to tell him that not everything is as it seems. He looks at the hand, reluctantly shaking it for a second before letting go.

  “I just graduated,” Max brags. “I would say I was at the top of my class, but, well, it was a pretty small class.” He heads down the stairs to the curved table, and drops into one of the council chairs. He kicks one foot up on the table. “Tell me why you think you need to do this? I thought you were just the stunt man.”

  “I see,” Crashtastic says, lying through his teeth as he follows. He’s still extremely confused as to why they’d send a kid to talk to him—even a strange kid like this one. “Well, honestly, more than just being a stuntman, I want to break into the acting world,” he says, slowly sitting down in the single chair set up in front of the curved table. “I mean, I’m already capable of doing all the flying and things, and I’m good looking, so why do they need some norm to do anything? I’m the total package. They’re having open auditions next month for the upcoming Liberty movie. I’m going to try out for America’s Son’s role.”

  “So you think you can impress the director, or something?” Max asks.

  “I know I can,” Crashtastic says urgently, leaning forward slightly. “All I need is to properly prepare for the part. If I can say that I followed THE America’s Son around, learned how he moves, how he speaks, I’ll be a shoe-in. That’s why I’m here.”

  “So you’re basically using your Hall connections to get an unfair advantage,” Max sums up.

  “This is life or death for my career, Max…” he stumbles over the name, wondering why he wants to say something longer. And then it occurs to him. “Maximum!”

  “Speaking,” Max says with a quirk of his lips.

  “You’re a villain—”

  “Yes, but you should understand how this works,” Max says. “I’m a villain on-screen, but in real life, I’m the second-in-command of Central Hall, in training,” he says. “You’re one of my assignments.”

  “So… they couldn’t even make the time to deal with my request, themselves?”

  “The Hall Leaders are busy people, Crash,” Max says. “And from what I’ve heard, you don’t make the time to deal with their work, so why should they deal with yours? Just because of that, I’m tempted to say no. You’re using us. You aren’t even pretending not to be, but that wouldn’t work on me, anyway.”

  “Aren’t you using the Hall to become famous, yourself?” Crashtastic demands.

  “No, I’m becoming famous to make the Hall famous, there’s a difference,” Max says. Crashtastic suddenly feels like he’s at the most tense interview in his life. This teenager is—well, for one, he’s already at a higher level than Crastastic will ever get. He’s heard rumors that the kid is well on the way to M-class.

  ‘He’s also a telepath,’ Max whispers in his mind, making Crashtastic jump back in shock. “But you’re right, I’m still only eighteen. Legally I can’t even drink, not that it would do anything for me in the first place. So you should have an advantage, right?”

  Not likely, Crashtastic admits to himself, knowing that Max can hear him. “Look, if you can read my mind, you know that I’m not going to cause any problems. I just want to follow America’s Son around for a few days. And since you don’t even interact with America’s Son, you’ll never even see me!”

  “Who told you I don’t?” Max asks.

  “What?”

  “My girlfriend
lives in the same apartment building, and I fight one of his sons on a regular basis,” Max says. “I go to barbecues with the man all the time. It’s Kansas City, that’s what we do. What you’re asking is far more personal than you seem to understand. Besides, Star Spangled is going out of town this weekend, so he’s got both of the Liberty Boys to feed…”

  “I’ll do anything you ask,” Crashtastic says seriously. “I’ll even cook for them, I don’t care.”

  “Can you cook?”

  “I will learn really quickly.”

  “Hmm… I’d have to ask them,” Max says. Crashtastic sees the moment of hope and he stands up, only to fall to his knees.

  “Please, Maximum. I need this for my job.”

  “Why haven’t they asked you to do it, already?” Max asks. “Like you said, you’re good looking, you can fly—”

  “But I don’t have a big name. This town will give millions of jobs to one man instead of giving one job to the millions of men trying to get them. It’s sickening, really.”

  “So why do you keep trying?”

  “Because I want to be that one man,” Crashtastic says honestly. It makes Max laugh, which he sees as another good sign. “So… will you let me?”

  “You said you’d find your own accommodations,” Max says. “You’re going to a town where people see supers even more often than the people in Hollywood see actors. You had better hope that your acting skills are as good as you think they are.”

  “Thank you, Maximum. Thank you so much,” Crashtastic says. “I’ll go get packed, now!”

  “I expect to see you at Central Hall in two days. If you take longer, I’ll call this whole thing off,” Max says, pulling up his sleeve to show the strangest watch that Crashtastic’s ever seen. He taps a few times on the screen, and then, to Crashtasic’s shock, he disappears.