Date Night

dark-blue-mondays:

syx-blue: 

“Oh god, Harrison. I’m not going to use it. Well, I mean I was planning on shooting it at Wayne as a grand unveiling of the thing. If he was stupid enough not to dodge it might singe his hair,” Syx rolled his eyes, “It will make a big boom and be otherwise underwhelming as it destroys something uselessly abandoned that the city refuses to demolish even though it should. But even if I was going to use it elsewhere, it orbits the Earth,” he waved his hands above his head, “I could hardly ever use the stupid thing. It’s for the show. Like the giant robots and taking over the broadcasts. To prove that I can.”

He jabbed a finger onto the table, “Most of the sheeple of this city will laugh at the grand show of the thing and forget that any of it still exists or that I could remake it after Wayne tosses me back in jail… but the people that matter? The would-be heroes? The villain leagues? They know. They remember. And next time one of those assholes comes knocking around my Lair, they do so with respect or they kicked in the teeth for being an idiot.”

“None of this is for the sheeple. They’re the heroes and cops problems,” the villain steepled his fingers, he’d gotten too worked up to realize he should have just shut up but frankly he rarely had anyone to explain himself to or who’s opinion mattered to him, “The ones I care about are the ones that don’t stay in jail. That never get caught. That the laws never stick to. The underworld Harrison,” he sighed, “Not that I recognize it anymore in this version of Metrocity.”

Harrison’s brow furrowed even more.  Part of him was relieved that Syx wasn’t planning on using an orbital death weapon to shoot innocent civilians.  Maybe he should apologize for making an erroneous assumption?  But the other part was somewhat thrown off guard by Syx’s rant.  And it certainly was a rant.  It was also something that Harrison still struggled to understand.  

“I probably shouldn’t ask this,” he sighed.  “I probably don’t want to know.  But…..”  He didn’t finish the sentence.  If he was going to have this man in his life, in his son’s life, he needed to know.  He needed to know exactly who he was falling in love with.   “What exactly do you do?  In this underworld?  Besides hire ex cons.  What are you hiring them for?”

Syx frowned softly and picked up his drink, sipping it and closing his eyes as he enjoyed the taste. He let himself get far too worked up over this sort of thing.

“Lots of things… most of the places I own are in the ghettos and run down neighborhoods. Low rent housing, corner stores, food banks, shelters… that sort of thing. Usually built on the site of a recently destroyed building as part of the city’s Disaster Repair Plan. Somehow the money and the blueprints just magically appear while I’m conveniently behind bars,” he fluttered his lashes innocently.

“Honestly, my Uncles run the vast majority of it. I’m just the face. If you ever walk into a shop that has my signature in the window or graffiti on the walls, it’s mine. Under my protection. Which basically just means that if someone robs it then either me or one of my Uncles pays them a visit and lets them know why they shouldn’t do that again.”

He held up a hand, “No it’s not a protection racket. The only thing I get out of it, especially when it started, was just people willing to actually sell to me and Minion. By the way, Nancy down near Evil Lair, she has an amazing butcher shop. Top quality from local farmers. She deals in other things too, but that’s where Minion buys all our meat and fish. Just never cross her, she’s mean with a butcher knife,” Syx laughed, though he blatantly realized gallows humor might not be best, “And uh… welcome to my inner circle? Only Anna and the Blues know all this… and now you.”

nattjeger:

@syx-blue

“Oooookay, points for gusto but unless that’s a metaphor I’ll have to deduct points for impossibility.”

“Won’t stop me, I’m gonna fucking fight it.” With that he violently jabbed the straw into his capri sun and sipped it angrily.

“So fisticuffs or a giant canon? Either way, something is going to burn up on entry,” even theoretical or hyperbally, it was proving entertaining. 

Date Night

dark-blue-mondays:

syx-blue:

“Oh my! Now that looks positively astounding,” Syx tapped his fingers together in excitement at the lamb was placed before him. He eagerly snagged a first bit and melted into his seat with a sinful moan as the bright herbs and savory sauce melted onto his tongue. 

Licking the juice off his lips, he chuckled at Harrison’s question, “You must have missed the part where I don’t want to be under their rules. I have a good lawyer already. He keeps my crimes from ever warranting attention outside of Metrocity,” he shook his head, “I know I could start over clean, but that’s not the point. I don’t want to.”

He dropped his chin in his hand, looking seriously at Harrison, “I don’t buy my parts through proper channels. I like blowing things up. I have an orbital death laser heated by the sun which while not overly useful will be damn intimidating once I demo it… though I hear that one of me at least already has in this mult-verse. I employ convicts in my businesses and while I pay taxes I don’t follow the laws in any regard what-so-ever and I have zero intention to start. I know perfectly well how corrupt the DA and the judges are because I have quite a few of them in my pocket and the ones I don’t have Psycho Delic does.”

“Frankly, me leaving the criminal world would be a horrible idea. Ha!” he laughed even though it wasn’t funny, “Can you imagine the power vacuum? The infighting over my terf? It wouldn’t be pretty and the last thing I want is more area Psycho can peddle his drugs in.” 

Harrison was quiet for a moment, letting the lamb melt in his mouth as he chewed Syx’s words over.  It helped explain some of the things the other blue man had said in their very first meeting and it certainly helped him assemble some other pieces he had been wondering about.  He just wasn’t sure he liked the way they were fitting together.  

“I’m certainly pro hiring ex cons and I pay my fair share of taxes because it would be more of a pain not to.  And its not like I need the money,” he said slowly.   “And I suppose if there’s going to be a criminal element in Metro City, I’d much rather it be you than Delic.  I just….”  

He sets down his fork with a slow exhale, his discomfort palpable as he tries to work out his thoughts. “Frankly it’s just hard for me to understand why anyone should have an orbital death ray.  Wanting to blow things up sometimes is understandable, but having that kind of power is something entirely different.  God knows the system is corrupt, but it sounds like you’re replacing something broken with, well….. something where you’re the judge, jury….. and executioner.”  

“Oh god, Harrison. I’m not going to use it. Well, I mean I was planning on shooting it at Wayne as a grand unveiling of the thing. If he was stupid enough not to dodge it might singe his hair,” Syx rolled his eyes, “It will make a big boom and be otherwise underwhelming as it destroys something uselessly abandoned that the city refuses to demolish even though it should. But even if I was going to use it elsewhere, it orbits the Earth,” he waved his hands above his head, “I could hardly ever use the stupid thing. It’s for the show. Like the giant robots and taking over the broadcasts. To prove that I can.”

He jabbed a finger onto the table, “Most of the sheeple of this city will laugh at the grand show of the thing and forget that any of it still exists or that I could remake it after Wayne tosses me back in jail… but the people that matter? The would-be heroes? The villain leagues? They know. They remember. And next time one of those assholes comes knocking around my Lair, they do so with respect or they kicked in the teeth for being an idiot.”

“None of this is for the sheeple. They’re the heroes and cops problems,” the villain steepled his fingers, he’d gotten too worked up to realize he should have just shut up but frankly he rarely had anyone to explain himself to or who’s opinion mattered to him, “The ones I care about are the ones that don’t stay in jail. That never get caught. That the laws never stick to. The underworld Harrison,” he sighed, “Not that I recognize it anymore in this version of Metrocity.”