Poem: "Not the Absence of Fear"
This poem came out of the April 2014 Creative Jam. It was inspired by a prompt from ellenmillion. It also fills the "courage" square in my 3-6-14 card for the fest. This poem belongs to the series Polychrome Heroics.
This microfunded poem is being posted one verse at a time, as donations come in to cover them. The rate is $.50/line, so $5 will reveal 10 new lines, and so forth. There is a permanent donation button on my profile page, or you can contact me for other arrangements. You can also ask me about the number of lines per verse, if you want to fund a certain number of verses.
So far sponsors include: little_lynnet, kestrels_nest, general fund, Anthony & Shirley Barrette
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Amount donated = $73
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Amount needed to fund next verse = $2
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"Not the Absence of Fear"
Clarity
Over winter break, I make time
to browse through the website for the
Super Power Organizational & Operational Nexus.
It contains a wealth of information about
superpowers and the people who have them --
history, legal concerns, health care complications,
a massive index of known powers and abilities,
self-help pages for people having trouble,
profiles of some famous soups.
SPOON offers a variety of classes and workshops
to teach people how to control their talents.
I'm tempted by that, tremendously so,
because it would help us a lot --
but at the same time it's risky,
going to a place with other soups
who might guess more about us
than we want them to know.
In the end, though, I decide to go;
visiting a SPOON base is less risky
than having our powers go haywire.
Mira
I'm the one who winds up going to SPOON
because it's not a place where it would
do us any good to fake being Maisie,
but my knack for blending in
could come in very handy.
We don't want to attract too much attention,
just slip in and learn a few things
and slip back out again.
In here, wearing a costume isn't conspicuous;
over half the people are wearing them.
I'm not in full costume, but I've got the mask.
The short, hairy man at the desk
is just wearing street clothes, though.
"Welcome to SPOON," he says.
"My name is Pax. I'll help if you
need a hand with your paperwork --
which is on actual paper, for security."
It makes me feel better already
to know that the data can't be hacked.
I flip through the sheets he hands me.
Some of the questions make me uncomfortable.
"Do I have to answer all of this?" I ask.
"No," he says, his brown eyes warm and kind.
"Fill out as much or as little as you want.
Just understand that we'll protect your information,
and the more you tell us the better we can help."
"Some of this I don't even know yet,"
I admit. My hands are shaking,
and it makes the pages rustle.
"That's okay too," Pax says with a smile.
"Nobody knows everything about their powers,
especially in the beginning. That's why
we come here to learn about them, right?"
Startled, I realize that he must be
new at this himself, but already
he's pitching in at SPOON
to help other people feel welcome.
"I guess so," I say
as I start to fill in the
least-risky-looking lines.
"Do you have a general idea
what your powers are?" Pax asks.
"Mine cluster around healing,
cooperation, and uh, sex."
He looks half-proud, half-bashful.
"It's all ... kind of a jumble,"
I hedge, not wanting to explain
that there are six of us in here
and we each have different abilities.
"I really just wanted to catch
the general orientation lecture at noon."
"Can't go wrong with Soup Call 101,"
Pax says, and that's not the name
listed on the website but it makes me giggle.
Then there comes a shout and a crash,
and Pax tackles me to the floor
just as shards of glass rain all over us.
Ham, Ham, help somebody's trying to kill us!
Ham
I scramble up
but the air is full of debris
and it's all I can do
to block even part of it.
I've never seen anything like this,
not up close and personal,
powers flying everywhere in a boil
of superheroes and supervillains.
"Che cozz’?" I yell at them.
"Try to leave some walls standing!"
The fight rages on,
energy blasts blazing,
fists waving, chairs breaking,
things suddenly crumbling to dust
and here I am with my cute little dagger
along with just enough talent
to throw a punch from across the room.
The sheer amount of power
getting flung about is enough to dazzle me,
and then I see why --
Maronna mia! That's Jack Union
and Dr. Infanta, two world-class soups
right there, not counting the rest of the mess,
and I am so in over my head here.
Fear clenches a fist around my chest
and for one mad moment
I can almost sympathize with Farce
and her pathetic wheezing.
I can't let it stop me. I can't.
There are people to protect.
I stick to the fringes of the fight,
pulling folks out of the way as they fall,
darting in with a quick thrust or punch
when I spot an opening.
I recognize Savoir Faire
dancing around a huge thug
with muscles like a side of beef;
said thug is mainly concerned with
shielding the little girl behind him.
Dr. Infanta may be pint-sized
but she has a pistol in one hand
and power in the other,
some kind of time-twisting
that drops a wall on top of Jack Union
and he doesn't get up this time.
The fight is suddenly over,
and I'm washed out,
falling back into myself
like the chunks of plaster
still pattering down from the ceiling.
Clement
I dart forward
just as Ham loses control.
I can feel the body's exhaustion
wrapped around me, heavy as wet felt.
There are supervillains still standing,
but that's not my problem.
I focus on the casualties,
quickly sweeping the room for clues,
most of them are moving, good --
but there's Pax,
still sprawled on the floor
where he shielded Mira
from the initial blast,
covered in shards of glass
and lying in a pool of blood.
He must have gotten cut
when the windows shattered,
and now that I'm thinking of it,
I can feel the nicks and scratches
scattered over my own body,
but they're not serious so I
push down my awareness of them.
I kneel beside Pax,
check his airway and breathing first,
both fine, then circulation --
and he's pouring blood everywhere,
there's no way I can stop it all,
but I try, I have to try.
I strip off my shirt to press over
the worst wound in his abdomen,
as I reach into him with my power
to assess the damage.
I can feel Pax's energy against mine,
know that he's some kind of healer too,
but his power is stunned senseless
and quivering inside him now,
useless to do anything.
There are too many leaks
for me to contain all at once,
so I grab what I can and squeeze
my healing energy around them,
but there's not enough left for me
after Ham's desperate battle.
It's like clinging to the edge of a windowsill,
feeling the weight of fear dragging me down,
fingertips slipping, nails starting to tear,
and I don't know what will happen if I fall
but I won't give up on Pax
I won't I won't I won't --
Suddenly I'm drowning in power,
gone from windowsill into river,
shocking and cold as water closing overhead.
I gasp at the sudden freezing slap of it,
but it doesn't choke me, only jolts me
out of awareness of Pax's body
and back into my own.
"I don't need your talent,
I need your hands," Dr. Infanta says
as she pushes me down to where
Pax's thigh leaks in small spurts.
"Keep pressure here."
I'm afraid of her -- who wouldn't be? --
but I don't let that get in the way.
I obey her without hesitation,
awed by the immensity of her gift
and the swift precision of her skill.
Her tiny hands are so slicked with gore
that she looks like she's wearing red silk gloves.
She is deft and gentle as she works,
moving briskly from one wound to the next,
guiding my fingers from thigh to upper arm.
"You're helping Pax?"
I ask, shocked by her kindness.
It's not what I expect of her
from what I've read or seen on the news.
"He doesn't deserve to die,"
Dr. Infanta says quietly.
"He was just in the wrong place
at the wrong time."
Her yellow dress is dyed scarlet
in streaks and spatters,
more wicking up from the puddle below.
It seems like hours
but can be only minutes
before she sits back on her heels
and tenderly peels my grip away from Pax.
"He'll be fine," she says,
patting the back of my hand,
"and so will you."
"But there's nothing wrong with me,"
I say, confused, because
the cuts I have are trivial at most.
"I know," says Dr. Infanta,
shaking out her wet red skirt
as she stands up.
"Stop right there, you sodding bint,"
Jack Union roars. He staggers out
from under a mountain of plaster,
blood trickling down his face --
apparently that last blow
got through even his Invulnerability.
"You are under arrest!"
"Not today," Dr. Infanta says.
Her bodyguard touches her shoulder
and they just vanish.
"Bad form," Savoir Faire says,
rounding on Jack Union.
"She just saved Pax, and
that's the thanks you give her?
Not everyone has your invulnerability,
you fils de putain!"
Granny Whammy sets her gimlet eye
on the fuming Jack Union.
"My office," she says, "now."
Burly shoulders slump
as he trudges through the door.
She closes it behind them
with an ominous clack of the latch.
I look around the ruined room.
No one else is dying at the moment.
It seems like an ideal time
to lose consciousness, so I do.
Keane
I come to with a massive headache,
my body aching with bruises
and stinging with cuts from the glass.
It feels like I'm lying on a couch,
or maybe a bed, and I can't see
much because the lights are dim
but even that little stabs at my eyes.
I grope for the pain,
try to twist it into a thread of power,
but it slips through my fingers,
burning like nettles.
I don't know what else to do.
Springs creak, and then
Savoir Faire leans over me.
His right eye is swollen shut
and he has a cut over the left,
but he's smiling at me.
"It is good to see you stirring,
poupée," he says.
He lifts my hands one at a time
to dab something on the skin of my wrists.
I smell mint and musk and fresh-mowed grass.
The headache begins to fade at once.
Savoir Faire tucks my hands
back into my lap and pulls up the blanket.
"Go back to sleep," he says.
Oh. That I can do.
Maze
When I wake up,
I feel like death warmed over,
but the pain has diminished enough
that I can think through it.
This time it is Granny Whammy
who is sitting next to me.
"How are you feeling, dear?"
she asks, leaning forward so
I can see the clock behind her.
I look at the hands. 4 PM.
"Well, fuck. I missed class."
She bursts out laughing.
"I'm afraid class has been cancelled
for the time being," she says.
"But I drove all the way here,"
I whine, too frustrated to stop it.
"I suppose I can give you a few pointers,"
Granny Whammy said. "First, stay out of
fights where everyone else is overwhelmingly
more powerful and experienced than you.
"I didn't --" I begin,
but Granny Whammy doesn't know
that it was Ham and not me
who threw himself into the fight,
so I have to take the hit for him.
"-- think of that."
"It's a professional hazard for heroes,"
she says with a nod. "Second, try not to
overdo it with your powers like you did today.
When you do overstrain yourself, use this."
She hands me a bottle of some viscous liquid.
"Blue chamomile will dull the headache
if you stop and rest. It won't help much
if you keep pushing yourself, so don't be stupid."
"Thanks," I say. I feel stupid,
but what else could we have done?
"Third, try to keep your clothes on,"
says Granny Whammy.
I look down at myself.
My bra is ruined, rust-red
dried all over white cotton.
Savoir Faire's elegant silk shirt
is wrapped around me under the blanket
but not buttoned all the way up.
I vaguely remember Clement
tearing off my shirt to use as a bandage.
Idiot forgot our body is female, I realize.
"Yes ma'am," I say firmly.
I'm shaking a little, though,
and of course she notices. "You know,
courage is not the absence of fear,
but the determination to push through it,"
Granny Whammy says.
"Guess I'm just too stubborn
to know any better," I say.
Granny Whammy pats my knee.
"There are clean clothes for you
on the foot of the bed," she says,
"though I doubt Savvy will be
wanting his shirt back."
I've probably gotten blood on it too.
Oh well. Worse things have happened,
I think as I look at the pile of clothes.
"I appreciate it," I say, sitting up slowly.
"I'll let you get dressed," she says
as she stands to leave.
"I hope we'll be seeing you here again,
though after today, I wouldn't blame you
if you decided not to come back."
I got to see the tiniest supervillain in the world
beat Jack Union by dropping a wall on him,
I almost saved someone's life,
another superhero loaned me his shirt,
and Granny Whammy gave me personal advice.
"I wouldn't miss it for the world,"
I say as a grin tugs my bruised face.
"Oh, you'll do," Granny Whammy says,
a merry glint in her eyes. Then she
closes the door softly behind her.
The clothes turn out to be a jogging suit
with the SPOON logo on the front,
the OO in the middle made by
the bowls of two spoons.
As I put on the jogging suit,
I remember Dr. Infanta telling me
that Pax would be fine, and so would I.
It niggles at me, even now,
because I may be sore
but a few scratches are nothing
to compare with his injuries.
Maybe she wasn't referring to
my body, though, maybe she meant
something else altogether.
Her power touched mine inside Pax;
she could have sensed something that way,
like the ruin that Mindflare left inside our head.
Maybe she saw that. Maybe she saw us.
She could have said that.
But she hadn't said anything.
It's just a suspicion,
yet it eats away at me.
If Dr. Infanta knows about us,
she could destroy everything.
I think about the delicate web
of deception and omission
that keeps us safely suspended
within the shell of what was Maisie's life.
It would only take a few words
for Dr. Infanta to tear that to shreds.
But she hadn't said anything.
I remember her little fingers,
skin almost the same tint as mine,
gloved in a thin film of blood
as she worked to save Pax.
She even took the time to
give me reassurance.
Dr. Infanta had the attention
of everyone in the room.
She could have told them.
But she hadn't said anything.
So maybe she didn't know after all.
Maybe she knew, but for some reason
she decided not to mention it.
I can't be sure, one way or the other.
I can't rely on anything.
I certainly can't trust her --
she is still a supervillain,
she trashed a SPOON base,
and I've heard plenty of horror stories
about the things Dr. Infanta has done.
Yet she stepped in when she didn't have to,
was gentle in a way I never expected --
that all the stories led me not to expect --
and it makes me wonder if maybe
there are other stories about her
that I just haven't heard before.
Maybe it's not as simple as being
a supervillain or a superhero.
Maybe she didn't say anything
to give us space to tell our own stories.
It's enough to make my head hurt,
and I don't think this is the kind of thing
that even blue chamomile can help.
So I pick up my stuff that
someone has left beside the bed,
slip into my shoes,
and head for the door.
I'll deal with the rest
when it comes, if it comes.
* * *
Notes:
Jack Union -- This world-class soup operates openly out of Great Britain. A baron's second son, Jack joined the army in his youth, serving with distinction. He is tall and slender, with a little muscle definition but not beefy. He has pale skin, straight dark brown hair, and blue eyes.
Origin: Jack's latent powers manifested during an intense firefight when he charged an enemy position to rescue his unit. Now in addition to his military work, he sometimes does special missions for the Queen (whom he adores because she reminds him of his grandmother).
Uniform: Standard army uniform; when on a soup mission, he adds a British flag cape.
Qualities: Master (+6) Soldier, Expert (+4) Dutiful, Expert (+4) Hand-to-Hand Combat, Good (+2) Gentleman, Good (+2) Historian, Good (+2) Ruggedly Handsome
Poor (-2) Was That Racist? (often makes oblique, questionable remarks)
Powers: Expert (+4) Strength, Expert (+4) Invulnerability, Good (+2) Adaptation, Average (0) Energy Blast, Average (0) Flight, Average (0) Speed
Motivation: Defend the honor of the United Kingdom.
* * *
"I learned that courage was not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid, but he who conquers that fear."
-- Nelson Mandela
Superpowers are the cornerstone of the superhero genre. But the science underlying them means that they could suck in real life, without supporting powers and knowledge. One interesting bit of information is that good and evil acts can make you stronger. In Terramagne, superpowers usually -- though not always -- come with those required secondary powers, but the knowledge isn't free. Characters have to learn it somewhere, somehow. Among the first things learned is that superpowers are really all about personal change.
Information sharing is a delicate issue for organizations and individuals. SPOON does their best to create an environment where it is safe to share so that people can learn.
che cozz’? - what the f**k are you doing? (Che cazzo fai?) [KAY-kaatz]
-- Italian slang
Bringing a knife to a gunfight is a general description of any situation where a character is woefully unprepared or outclassed, originally from The Untouchables. It can be opposed to the Level Scaling trope in which the world presents tougher foes as characters gain power -- although really it's more a matter of the the characters moving up to where those larger challenges are active. Traditional comics rarely mix characters of very high and very low levels, but I figured that a more realistic approach would mean that when the big names throw down, almost everyone else is overwhelmed in comparison.
maronna mia! - oh my God! (Madonna mia!) [maa-ROAWN-aa-MEE-uh]
-- Italian slang
Fear comes in several types. Courage also has different aspects. Courage actually requires fear. There are ways of using the brain to stay cool under pressure. Know how to overcome fear and build courage.
The "fight or flight response" actually has four modes (fight, flight, freeze, fawn). Adrenal stress in a crisis often leads to a crash afterwards. Learning to cope with the adrenaline rush is an important part of rescue work.
Sexism in the United Kingdom is a topic of ongoing debate. Jack Union does a lot of heroic things, but he's also kind of a jerk.
Fils (pronounced [fis]) [from L filius son] m son.
Fils de pute / putain m son of a bitch. See pute.
Putain [from pute] f 1. whore, tart, hooker; 2. vulg. woman (derogatory); 3. interj. bloody hell! fucking hell!: cette putain de machine this fucking machine.
-- French Uncensored
The safety trades are concerned with the qualities of a hero, such as courage and compassion. Here's a lesson plan for exploring heroism. Savoir Faire has many qualities of a gentleman and generally acts like a gentleman in the big ways despite despite being saucy in the little ways. Now consider that Dr. Infanta came from a time and place heavily influenced by feudal structure, and you can see that she tends to wield power like a noblewoman -- even though she was born a peasant, she had the pattern for "this is how people with power are to behave," which is high-handed but also protective.
Delivering criticism is a necessary skill for leaders. A common rule is to give praise in public but criticism in private, although there is some variation. Know how to give constructive criticism or discipline a misbehaving employee. This situation is complicated by the fact that Jack Union isn't an employee per se, but Granny Whammy still needs to maintain certain standards of behavior -- namely that vulgar language is not heroic and that taking advantage of a supervillain's good behavior to punish them will discourage good behavior. She makes it clear to everyone that she is displeased, but keeps the details private.
Poupée [dimin. from L pupa doll] f 1. puppet; 2. colloq. fam. young girl or woman as an object of sexual desire. See more at femme.
-- French Uncensored
Risk-benefit analysis is something people usually learn in adolescence. Here's an example dealing with playground safety. Going to SPOON is always a bit hazardous because mayhem could break out at any moment, but they're well prepared for that and it's the best place to learn about superpowers -- so moderate risk, high reward, and therefore justified.
German chamomile yields an oil called blue chamomile, which has soothing qualities. It laps over from physical to metaphysical effects, so in Terramagne it's used to treat the symptoms of overusing superpowers.
Gray areas raise the question of who is a worthy opponent. There can be honorable villains and dishonorable heroes. Dr. Infanta prefers to minimize damage while pursuing her goals. Jack Union has a very authoritarian perspective and doesn't always keep an eye on collateral damage. Consider how heroes and villains are portrayed. Leadership involves making ethical decisions, so know how to solve a moral dilemma.
Discretion is a virtue, especially for soldiers and people who handle sensitive information. Some superpowers can reveal things not easily discovered elsewise, which places extra responsibility on the bearer to handle that with care.
This microfunded poem is being posted one verse at a time, as donations come in to cover them. The rate is $.50/line, so $5 will reveal 10 new lines, and so forth. There is a permanent donation button on my profile page, or you can contact me for other arrangements. You can also ask me about the number of lines per verse, if you want to fund a certain number of verses.
So far sponsors include: little_lynnet, kestrels_nest, general fund, Anthony & Shirley Barrette
FULLY FUNDED
426 lines, Buy It Now = $213
Amount donated = $73
Verses posted = 46 of 110
Amount remaining to fund fully = $140
Amount needed to fund next verse = $2
Amount needed to fund the verse after that = $2.50
"Not the Absence of Fear"
Clarity
Over winter break, I make time
to browse through the website for the
Super Power Organizational & Operational Nexus.
It contains a wealth of information about
superpowers and the people who have them --
history, legal concerns, health care complications,
a massive index of known powers and abilities,
self-help pages for people having trouble,
profiles of some famous soups.
SPOON offers a variety of classes and workshops
to teach people how to control their talents.
I'm tempted by that, tremendously so,
because it would help us a lot --
but at the same time it's risky,
going to a place with other soups
who might guess more about us
than we want them to know.
In the end, though, I decide to go;
visiting a SPOON base is less risky
than having our powers go haywire.
Mira
I'm the one who winds up going to SPOON
because it's not a place where it would
do us any good to fake being Maisie,
but my knack for blending in
could come in very handy.
We don't want to attract too much attention,
just slip in and learn a few things
and slip back out again.
In here, wearing a costume isn't conspicuous;
over half the people are wearing them.
I'm not in full costume, but I've got the mask.
The short, hairy man at the desk
is just wearing street clothes, though.
"Welcome to SPOON," he says.
"My name is Pax. I'll help if you
need a hand with your paperwork --
which is on actual paper, for security."
It makes me feel better already
to know that the data can't be hacked.
I flip through the sheets he hands me.
Some of the questions make me uncomfortable.
"Do I have to answer all of this?" I ask.
"No," he says, his brown eyes warm and kind.
"Fill out as much or as little as you want.
Just understand that we'll protect your information,
and the more you tell us the better we can help."
"Some of this I don't even know yet,"
I admit. My hands are shaking,
and it makes the pages rustle.
"That's okay too," Pax says with a smile.
"Nobody knows everything about their powers,
especially in the beginning. That's why
we come here to learn about them, right?"
Startled, I realize that he must be
new at this himself, but already
he's pitching in at SPOON
to help other people feel welcome.
"I guess so," I say
as I start to fill in the
least-risky-looking lines.
"Do you have a general idea
what your powers are?" Pax asks.
"Mine cluster around healing,
cooperation, and uh, sex."
He looks half-proud, half-bashful.
"It's all ... kind of a jumble,"
I hedge, not wanting to explain
that there are six of us in here
and we each have different abilities.
"I really just wanted to catch
the general orientation lecture at noon."
"Can't go wrong with Soup Call 101,"
Pax says, and that's not the name
listed on the website but it makes me giggle.
Then there comes a shout and a crash,
and Pax tackles me to the floor
just as shards of glass rain all over us.
Ham, Ham, help somebody's trying to kill us!
Ham
I scramble up
but the air is full of debris
and it's all I can do
to block even part of it.
I've never seen anything like this,
not up close and personal,
powers flying everywhere in a boil
of superheroes and supervillains.
"Che cozz’?" I yell at them.
"Try to leave some walls standing!"
The fight rages on,
energy blasts blazing,
fists waving, chairs breaking,
things suddenly crumbling to dust
and here I am with my cute little dagger
along with just enough talent
to throw a punch from across the room.
The sheer amount of power
getting flung about is enough to dazzle me,
and then I see why --
Maronna mia! That's Jack Union
and Dr. Infanta, two world-class soups
right there, not counting the rest of the mess,
and I am so in over my head here.
Fear clenches a fist around my chest
and for one mad moment
I can almost sympathize with Farce
and her pathetic wheezing.
I can't let it stop me. I can't.
There are people to protect.
I stick to the fringes of the fight,
pulling folks out of the way as they fall,
darting in with a quick thrust or punch
when I spot an opening.
I recognize Savoir Faire
dancing around a huge thug
with muscles like a side of beef;
said thug is mainly concerned with
shielding the little girl behind him.
Dr. Infanta may be pint-sized
but she has a pistol in one hand
and power in the other,
some kind of time-twisting
that drops a wall on top of Jack Union
and he doesn't get up this time.
The fight is suddenly over,
and I'm washed out,
falling back into myself
like the chunks of plaster
still pattering down from the ceiling.
Clement
I dart forward
just as Ham loses control.
I can feel the body's exhaustion
wrapped around me, heavy as wet felt.
There are supervillains still standing,
but that's not my problem.
I focus on the casualties,
quickly sweeping the room for clues,
most of them are moving, good --
but there's Pax,
still sprawled on the floor
where he shielded Mira
from the initial blast,
covered in shards of glass
and lying in a pool of blood.
He must have gotten cut
when the windows shattered,
and now that I'm thinking of it,
I can feel the nicks and scratches
scattered over my own body,
but they're not serious so I
push down my awareness of them.
I kneel beside Pax,
check his airway and breathing first,
both fine, then circulation --
and he's pouring blood everywhere,
there's no way I can stop it all,
but I try, I have to try.
I strip off my shirt to press over
the worst wound in his abdomen,
as I reach into him with my power
to assess the damage.
I can feel Pax's energy against mine,
know that he's some kind of healer too,
but his power is stunned senseless
and quivering inside him now,
useless to do anything.
There are too many leaks
for me to contain all at once,
so I grab what I can and squeeze
my healing energy around them,
but there's not enough left for me
after Ham's desperate battle.
It's like clinging to the edge of a windowsill,
feeling the weight of fear dragging me down,
fingertips slipping, nails starting to tear,
and I don't know what will happen if I fall
but I won't give up on Pax
I won't I won't I won't --
Suddenly I'm drowning in power,
gone from windowsill into river,
shocking and cold as water closing overhead.
I gasp at the sudden freezing slap of it,
but it doesn't choke me, only jolts me
out of awareness of Pax's body
and back into my own.
"I don't need your talent,
I need your hands," Dr. Infanta says
as she pushes me down to where
Pax's thigh leaks in small spurts.
"Keep pressure here."
I'm afraid of her -- who wouldn't be? --
but I don't let that get in the way.
I obey her without hesitation,
awed by the immensity of her gift
and the swift precision of her skill.
Her tiny hands are so slicked with gore
that she looks like she's wearing red silk gloves.
She is deft and gentle as she works,
moving briskly from one wound to the next,
guiding my fingers from thigh to upper arm.
"You're helping Pax?"
I ask, shocked by her kindness.
It's not what I expect of her
from what I've read or seen on the news.
"He doesn't deserve to die,"
Dr. Infanta says quietly.
"He was just in the wrong place
at the wrong time."
Her yellow dress is dyed scarlet
in streaks and spatters,
more wicking up from the puddle below.
It seems like hours
but can be only minutes
before she sits back on her heels
and tenderly peels my grip away from Pax.
"He'll be fine," she says,
patting the back of my hand,
"and so will you."
"But there's nothing wrong with me,"
I say, confused, because
the cuts I have are trivial at most.
"I know," says Dr. Infanta,
shaking out her wet red skirt
as she stands up.
"Stop right there, you sodding bint,"
Jack Union roars. He staggers out
from under a mountain of plaster,
blood trickling down his face --
apparently that last blow
got through even his Invulnerability.
"You are under arrest!"
"Not today," Dr. Infanta says.
Her bodyguard touches her shoulder
and they just vanish.
"Bad form," Savoir Faire says,
rounding on Jack Union.
"She just saved Pax, and
that's the thanks you give her?
Not everyone has your invulnerability,
you fils de putain!"
Granny Whammy sets her gimlet eye
on the fuming Jack Union.
"My office," she says, "now."
Burly shoulders slump
as he trudges through the door.
She closes it behind them
with an ominous clack of the latch.
I look around the ruined room.
No one else is dying at the moment.
It seems like an ideal time
to lose consciousness, so I do.
Keane
I come to with a massive headache,
my body aching with bruises
and stinging with cuts from the glass.
It feels like I'm lying on a couch,
or maybe a bed, and I can't see
much because the lights are dim
but even that little stabs at my eyes.
I grope for the pain,
try to twist it into a thread of power,
but it slips through my fingers,
burning like nettles.
I don't know what else to do.
Springs creak, and then
Savoir Faire leans over me.
His right eye is swollen shut
and he has a cut over the left,
but he's smiling at me.
"It is good to see you stirring,
poupée," he says.
He lifts my hands one at a time
to dab something on the skin of my wrists.
I smell mint and musk and fresh-mowed grass.
The headache begins to fade at once.
Savoir Faire tucks my hands
back into my lap and pulls up the blanket.
"Go back to sleep," he says.
Oh. That I can do.
Maze
When I wake up,
I feel like death warmed over,
but the pain has diminished enough
that I can think through it.
This time it is Granny Whammy
who is sitting next to me.
"How are you feeling, dear?"
she asks, leaning forward so
I can see the clock behind her.
I look at the hands. 4 PM.
"Well, fuck. I missed class."
She bursts out laughing.
"I'm afraid class has been cancelled
for the time being," she says.
"But I drove all the way here,"
I whine, too frustrated to stop it.
"I suppose I can give you a few pointers,"
Granny Whammy said. "First, stay out of
fights where everyone else is overwhelmingly
more powerful and experienced than you.
"I didn't --" I begin,
but Granny Whammy doesn't know
that it was Ham and not me
who threw himself into the fight,
so I have to take the hit for him.
"-- think of that."
"It's a professional hazard for heroes,"
she says with a nod. "Second, try not to
overdo it with your powers like you did today.
When you do overstrain yourself, use this."
She hands me a bottle of some viscous liquid.
"Blue chamomile will dull the headache
if you stop and rest. It won't help much
if you keep pushing yourself, so don't be stupid."
"Thanks," I say. I feel stupid,
but what else could we have done?
"Third, try to keep your clothes on,"
says Granny Whammy.
I look down at myself.
My bra is ruined, rust-red
dried all over white cotton.
Savoir Faire's elegant silk shirt
is wrapped around me under the blanket
but not buttoned all the way up.
I vaguely remember Clement
tearing off my shirt to use as a bandage.
Idiot forgot our body is female, I realize.
"Yes ma'am," I say firmly.
I'm shaking a little, though,
and of course she notices. "You know,
courage is not the absence of fear,
but the determination to push through it,"
Granny Whammy says.
"Guess I'm just too stubborn
to know any better," I say.
Granny Whammy pats my knee.
"There are clean clothes for you
on the foot of the bed," she says,
"though I doubt Savvy will be
wanting his shirt back."
I've probably gotten blood on it too.
Oh well. Worse things have happened,
I think as I look at the pile of clothes.
"I appreciate it," I say, sitting up slowly.
"I'll let you get dressed," she says
as she stands to leave.
"I hope we'll be seeing you here again,
though after today, I wouldn't blame you
if you decided not to come back."
I got to see the tiniest supervillain in the world
beat Jack Union by dropping a wall on him,
I almost saved someone's life,
another superhero loaned me his shirt,
and Granny Whammy gave me personal advice.
"I wouldn't miss it for the world,"
I say as a grin tugs my bruised face.
"Oh, you'll do," Granny Whammy says,
a merry glint in her eyes. Then she
closes the door softly behind her.
The clothes turn out to be a jogging suit
with the SPOON logo on the front,
the OO in the middle made by
the bowls of two spoons.
As I put on the jogging suit,
I remember Dr. Infanta telling me
that Pax would be fine, and so would I.
It niggles at me, even now,
because I may be sore
but a few scratches are nothing
to compare with his injuries.
Maybe she wasn't referring to
my body, though, maybe she meant
something else altogether.
Her power touched mine inside Pax;
she could have sensed something that way,
like the ruin that Mindflare left inside our head.
Maybe she saw that. Maybe she saw us.
She could have said that.
But she hadn't said anything.
It's just a suspicion,
yet it eats away at me.
If Dr. Infanta knows about us,
she could destroy everything.
I think about the delicate web
of deception and omission
that keeps us safely suspended
within the shell of what was Maisie's life.
It would only take a few words
for Dr. Infanta to tear that to shreds.
But she hadn't said anything.
I remember her little fingers,
skin almost the same tint as mine,
gloved in a thin film of blood
as she worked to save Pax.
She even took the time to
give me reassurance.
Dr. Infanta had the attention
of everyone in the room.
She could have told them.
But she hadn't said anything.
So maybe she didn't know after all.
Maybe she knew, but for some reason
she decided not to mention it.
I can't be sure, one way or the other.
I can't rely on anything.
I certainly can't trust her --
she is still a supervillain,
she trashed a SPOON base,
and I've heard plenty of horror stories
about the things Dr. Infanta has done.
Yet she stepped in when she didn't have to,
was gentle in a way I never expected --
that all the stories led me not to expect --
and it makes me wonder if maybe
there are other stories about her
that I just haven't heard before.
Maybe it's not as simple as being
a supervillain or a superhero.
Maybe she didn't say anything
to give us space to tell our own stories.
It's enough to make my head hurt,
and I don't think this is the kind of thing
that even blue chamomile can help.
So I pick up my stuff that
someone has left beside the bed,
slip into my shoes,
and head for the door.
I'll deal with the rest
when it comes, if it comes.
* * *
Notes:
Jack Union -- This world-class soup operates openly out of Great Britain. A baron's second son, Jack joined the army in his youth, serving with distinction. He is tall and slender, with a little muscle definition but not beefy. He has pale skin, straight dark brown hair, and blue eyes.
Origin: Jack's latent powers manifested during an intense firefight when he charged an enemy position to rescue his unit. Now in addition to his military work, he sometimes does special missions for the Queen (whom he adores because she reminds him of his grandmother).
Uniform: Standard army uniform; when on a soup mission, he adds a British flag cape.
Qualities: Master (+6) Soldier, Expert (+4) Dutiful, Expert (+4) Hand-to-Hand Combat, Good (+2) Gentleman, Good (+2) Historian, Good (+2) Ruggedly Handsome
Poor (-2) Was That Racist? (often makes oblique, questionable remarks)
Powers: Expert (+4) Strength, Expert (+4) Invulnerability, Good (+2) Adaptation, Average (0) Energy Blast, Average (0) Flight, Average (0) Speed
Motivation: Defend the honor of the United Kingdom.
* * *
"I learned that courage was not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid, but he who conquers that fear."
-- Nelson Mandela
Superpowers are the cornerstone of the superhero genre. But the science underlying them means that they could suck in real life, without supporting powers and knowledge. One interesting bit of information is that good and evil acts can make you stronger. In Terramagne, superpowers usually -- though not always -- come with those required secondary powers, but the knowledge isn't free. Characters have to learn it somewhere, somehow. Among the first things learned is that superpowers are really all about personal change.
Information sharing is a delicate issue for organizations and individuals. SPOON does their best to create an environment where it is safe to share so that people can learn.
che cozz’? - what the f**k are you doing? (Che cazzo fai?) [KAY-kaatz]
-- Italian slang
Bringing a knife to a gunfight is a general description of any situation where a character is woefully unprepared or outclassed, originally from The Untouchables. It can be opposed to the Level Scaling trope in which the world presents tougher foes as characters gain power -- although really it's more a matter of the the characters moving up to where those larger challenges are active. Traditional comics rarely mix characters of very high and very low levels, but I figured that a more realistic approach would mean that when the big names throw down, almost everyone else is overwhelmed in comparison.
maronna mia! - oh my God! (Madonna mia!) [maa-ROAWN-aa-MEE-uh]
-- Italian slang
Fear comes in several types. Courage also has different aspects. Courage actually requires fear. There are ways of using the brain to stay cool under pressure. Know how to overcome fear and build courage.
The "fight or flight response" actually has four modes (fight, flight, freeze, fawn). Adrenal stress in a crisis often leads to a crash afterwards. Learning to cope with the adrenaline rush is an important part of rescue work.
Sexism in the United Kingdom is a topic of ongoing debate. Jack Union does a lot of heroic things, but he's also kind of a jerk.
Fils (pronounced [fis]) [from L filius son] m son.
Fils de pute / putain m son of a bitch. See pute.
Putain [from pute] f 1. whore, tart, hooker; 2. vulg. woman (derogatory); 3. interj. bloody hell! fucking hell!: cette putain de machine this fucking machine.
-- French Uncensored
The safety trades are concerned with the qualities of a hero, such as courage and compassion. Here's a lesson plan for exploring heroism. Savoir Faire has many qualities of a gentleman and generally acts like a gentleman in the big ways despite despite being saucy in the little ways. Now consider that Dr. Infanta came from a time and place heavily influenced by feudal structure, and you can see that she tends to wield power like a noblewoman -- even though she was born a peasant, she had the pattern for "this is how people with power are to behave," which is high-handed but also protective.
Delivering criticism is a necessary skill for leaders. A common rule is to give praise in public but criticism in private, although there is some variation. Know how to give constructive criticism or discipline a misbehaving employee. This situation is complicated by the fact that Jack Union isn't an employee per se, but Granny Whammy still needs to maintain certain standards of behavior -- namely that vulgar language is not heroic and that taking advantage of a supervillain's good behavior to punish them will discourage good behavior. She makes it clear to everyone that she is displeased, but keeps the details private.
Poupée [dimin. from L pupa doll] f 1. puppet; 2. colloq. fam. young girl or woman as an object of sexual desire. See more at femme.
-- French Uncensored
Risk-benefit analysis is something people usually learn in adolescence. Here's an example dealing with playground safety. Going to SPOON is always a bit hazardous because mayhem could break out at any moment, but they're well prepared for that and it's the best place to learn about superpowers -- so moderate risk, high reward, and therefore justified.
German chamomile yields an oil called blue chamomile, which has soothing qualities. It laps over from physical to metaphysical effects, so in Terramagne it's used to treat the symptoms of overusing superpowers.
Gray areas raise the question of who is a worthy opponent. There can be honorable villains and dishonorable heroes. Dr. Infanta prefers to minimize damage while pursuing her goals. Jack Union has a very authoritarian perspective and doesn't always keep an eye on collateral damage. Consider how heroes and villains are portrayed. Leadership involves making ethical decisions, so know how to solve a moral dilemma.
Discretion is a virtue, especially for soldiers and people who handle sensitive information. Some superpowers can reveal things not easily discovered elsewise, which places extra responsibility on the bearer to handle that with care.