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“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.”

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Putting down the fork, Syx played with his glass and took a drink, “That’s something I have thought about a lot… believe it or not. But I actually have quite a bit of time for self-reflection in solitary,” and Warden was always keen to ask him those questions over and over to try and get the blue man to change his ways. “I have a much different answer to that now than when I started.”

“When I first hit the streets all I could think of was how much I hated all those that hurt me. Most of it can from those in power, with power. Teachers, guards,” he shuddered despite himself and took a long drink, “those who were called the good guys. Who were the authority. And Wayne was praised by all those that hurt me. So I was the yin to his yang. The dark to his light. Chaos to the order of society that blindly followed the authority.”

“Now…” he sat back in his chair and steepled his fingers, “It’s a means to an end. I’ve done too much to ever go back. This world doesn’t let you forget the crimes you’ve committed. Good men will waste away simply because they once owned pot. You can utterly reform your life, but your past will haunt you… There is simply no point. And the world hasn’t changed. Corruption and hate at every level. I refuse to accept their rules, their law. I won’t be subject to them. But that just makes me an outcast. I’m a Super Villain for the same reason you’re a CEO. The title gets you places and carries clout. And if you want to keep your ranking, you need to stay active,” he shrugged idly.

Harrison sat quietly listening.  Syx’s reasons seem to make a whole lot more sense than his Megamind’s frankly.  His husband’s nemesis seemed somewhat perpetually stuck in the yin and yang stage. 

“I get the anger,” he confessed to his dining companion as the waiter removed their empty plates.  “I think part of the reason I was so determined with my inventions in the beginning was to prove people wrong when they thought I was some amalgamation of ‘scary alien’ stereotypes.”  He wiggled his fingers in a comic play at eeeeevil.  “If you ask Minion, he’ll tell you I’m a CEO because I’m too pigheaded and easily distractible to ever work for anyone else.  Though he’ll probably find a more polite way to put it.”  

The waiter set a plate in front of each of them containing their main course.

Harrison’s face lit up.  “Oooh lamb.  I love lamb,” he gushed as the next coordinating drink was set next to their plates.

Harrison eagerly took a sip of the drink, getting both the liquid and some foam.  “Hm, some kind of brandy,” he muttered before looking back up at Syx.  “So why not pursue some kind of deal with the DA?  A good lawyer could probably get you time served, especially if Metro Man was willing to stand up on your behalf.  I mean, the system may be a mess, but why not use it to your advantage?” he asked before stabbing a fava bean and popping it into his mouth.   “You’re the city’s most famous supervillain, not just some random drug dealer.”

“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.” 

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Syx bit his lip, seriously considering the offer of battling a different Metro Man… it almost felt like cheating on Wayne… but… his had basically disappeared… so… it was alright to branch out? right? A villain needed a hero to oppose him. What even was he without a nemesis. 

“En garde,” Syx grinned wickedly and clanged his fork against Harrison’s. Twisting his date’s spoon out of the way in utensil on utensil action, he reached in and snagged Harrison’s ravioli off his plate, “Oh ho ho, that would never work. I’m far too evil,” as he munched on the stole ravioli, he scooped up one from his plate and held it out in offer toward’s Harrison, green eyes dancing playfully. 

Though Syx knew himself to be a far different sort of villain from the Doom Syndicate or other true evil sorts… he could never picture himself ever getting along with the cops. He’d much rather be a villain and be on familiar footing, than a rejected hero at constant odds with the law anyway. Besides… this way he could just flip people off and silently pay off the property damage in secret. He had no desire to have to spend even more time with paperwork and loopholes. And though working in the lab with other blue men was tempting… it also sounded far too boring to take up all his time. 

Harrison grinned at their cutlery sword fight, though his mouth dropped open in exaggerated surprise when Syx stole his ravioli.  “You little villain!” he chided, before opening his mouth to take what was being offered.  He let the flavors of warm truffle oil and something nutty fill his mouth. 

“Can I ask you something serious?” he said once he had swallowed, reaching once more for his drink.  “Why supervillainy?  I mean, I’ve asked several of the Megaminds this question over the years and I suppose I keep asking because I haven’t gotten a satisfactory answer….“  He sighs.  “I’m not stupid, I grew up in a prison too.  But all my uncles and aunties were constantly lecturing me about not ending up on their path.  So why crime?  Why not cure cancer or build rocket ships or something?” he asked before draining the last of the liquid, leaving only a limp leaf in gel.

Putting down the fork, Syx played with his glass and took a drink, “That’s something I have thought about a lot… believe it or not. But I actually have quite a bit of time for self-reflection in solitary,” and Warden was always keen to ask him those questions over and over to try and get the blue man to change his ways. “I have a much different answer to that now than when I started.”

“When I first hit the streets all I could think of was how much I hated all those that hurt me. Most of it can from those in power, with power. Teachers, guards,” he shuddered despite himself and took a long drink, “those who were called the good guys. Who were the authority. And Wayne was praised by all those that hurt me. So I was the yin to his yang. The dark to his light. Chaos to the order of society that blindly followed the authority.”

“Now…” he sat back in his chair and steepled his fingers, “It’s a means to an end. I’ve done too much to ever go back. This world doesn’t let you forget the crimes you’ve committed. Good men will waste away simply because they once owned pot. You can utterly reform your life, but your past will haunt you… There is simply no point. And the world hasn’t changed. Corruption and hate at every level. I refuse to accept their rules, their law. I won’t be subject to them. But that just makes me an outcast. I’m a Super Villain for the same reason you’re a CEO. The title gets you places and carries clout. And if you want to keep your ranking, you need to stay active,” he shrugged idly.

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Taking a sip of the odd wine, Syx played with his fork, “Well, to be honest, I haven’t done a whole lot of kidnapping since Wayne and I broke up… there isn’t a possible way that won’t be… well… horribly awkward,” he sighed, sagging in his chair, “but god! I didn’t realize just how much I’d miss it! Not getting sent back to that horrible cell is nice, but just!” he gestured sharply with the fork, using it like a tiny fencing sword, “The thrill! The banter! The adrenaline!”

He sagged, dropping his cheek to the table, “I’ve built so many things with all this new free time, but what’s the point? It did give me the chance test out some new fabric I’m making for Anna. It has to adjust for the shapeshifting after all. That fine detail work is incredibly rewarding when it is finished but it gets so tedious and frustrating when I hit blocks. I just need to- to-” he his hands waved as he sought for the words he couldn’t find, finishing lamely, “expend energy.”

Harrison’s grin widened as he watched his date play with his fork.  Yep, Syx was adorable.  He let out a happy sigh.  “You know my Wayne would love to go toe to toe with you any time.  His Megamind is…. well… more reclusive than usual of late.  I don’t think they’ve had a proper battle since before Devin was born.  You’re not the only one who misses the thrill, the banter, and the adrenaline.  Plus I’m always game for a little rope burn from a cute boy.”   

He picks up his spoon to get the last ravioli, but instead offers it to Syx to challenge his fork to a swordfight.  “You know, you can always go straight it you need something to occupy your mind.  Join Shelly and us in the lab sometime.  He’s doing amazing work with bioprostheses.  We should be ready for clinical trials in a few months.”   He thrusts with the spoon, curious to see if his companion will parry.  

Syx bit his lip, seriously considering the offer of battling a different Metro Man… it almost felt like cheating on Wayne… but… his had basically disappeared… so… it was alright to branch out? right? A villain needed a hero to oppose him. What even was he without a nemesis. 

“En garde,” Syx grinned wickedly and clanged his fork against Harrison’s. Twisting his date’s spoon out of the way in utensil on utensil action, he reached in and snagged Harrison’s ravioli off his plate, “Oh ho ho, that would never work. I’m far too evil,” as he munched on the stole ravioli, he scooped up one from his plate and held it out in offer toward’s Harrison, green eyes dancing playfully. 

Though Syx knew himself to be a far different sort of villain from the Doom Syndicate or other true evil sorts… he could never picture himself ever getting along with the cops. He’d much rather be a villain and be on familiar footing, than a rejected hero at constant odds with the law anyway. Besides… this way he could just flip people off and silently pay off the property damage in secret. He had no desire to have to spend even more time with paperwork and loopholes. And though working in the lab with other blue men was tempting… it also sounded far too boring to take up all his time.