Let's take a trip through the darkness in all of us

[foreshadower]

WHO: The SHADE and YOU
WHERE: All over
WHEN: When do you think
WHAT: SUPERVILLAIN THINGS
WARNINGS: Embarrassment



✹ MARCH 29TH ✹

What was one bored, immortal supervillain to do, when they woke up someplace new? There were heroes here, he'd figured out quickly -- and that was enough to tug at heartstrings that had slowly been feeling weary and aged -- too tired by the constant string of lies that came with living a dual life. But here? Shade was excited. It was a new world, new heroes -- and old ones, he'd noticed -- and that was enough for Shade -- who'd been just about to hang up his leotard and go back to his home on Paper street and just be -- well --

First, the first night, he'd stolen Faberge Eggs. It was Easter, after all. Those had been fun to stash, too. Lead the police around in a little chase, play with them, see how things went. Now? Now, days later, he found himself bored already, the thrill and burst of adrenaline from doing something wrong could only last so long, after all. He needed to do something... anything -- Something to kill the boredom that years of immortality made pale. And without a suit, well -- it took him a day to sew something up appropriate, before he made a -- well, a splash.

The clang of the alarm was loud enough that Shade had to teleport out, letting the shadows curl and squrim around him. He pulled out his comm, then, looking back at the scene behind him -- cops and security still running, while he held the device with shadows, laughing while he spoke -- before he shut it off, and went back to what he hoped was going to be an exciting endeavor out. The high-priced statue and painting he'd taken with his shadows danced while the inky black carried it around, like a tantalizing gift to be rescued. If it weren't for the cackling, shrieking shadows that seemed to rise and fall like waves from the dark pitch.

"Come now!" he said, above the whole mess, to anyone who was actually paying attention, "can anyone stop the night from coming?"

He was rusty, that was all.

✹ MARCH 31ST (LOCKED TO KASUMI) ✹

The museum at night was a dark, beautiful thing.

Silent halls, for the most part, only marred by the occational clikck of a guard's heel, or the soft beep of a security system. Shade didn't have to worry about such things, of course. That was the reason he could simply take so readily, and while... well, he certainly went out there, looting and playing, and making a damn fool of himself with those horrible lines and the dancing shadows meant to be seen, rather than simply exist. That was what nights like this were for, in the silent museum, before the rather expensive -- albeit boring -- painting. Ugh, he hated still-lifes, but...

Well, that wasn't the point, was it?

"What do you think?" he asked, his voice still low. Despite the fact that the room they were in was completely obscured and locked away by his shadows, keeping them separate from the rest of the world. It would be a simple thing, to just take, but since...they were both here, it seemed appropriate to see how someone else would deal with such a thing.

"Supposedly, the painting has a sensor that can tell when it's moved even a centimeter. Pressure sensitive to all but air. How are we supposed to get it out of here?

✹ APRIL FOOLS ✹

The problem with getting out and getting his face and name seen as a villain was the unintended side-effect. The local restaurants in Nonah -- where he'd set up shop in the lovely little home he'd... procured for himself -- knew he was the supervillain that had been terrorizing the banks and museums, and looking for someone to fight with. One of the local baristas had even gone pale at the sight of him.

God, but he missed Opal. Having a home base away from the bustle and trouble of his supervillain career. Opal had always been welcoming, he'd always been a permanent fixture. The people kenw him better through face-to-face than they did on the television. But not so here, being new, and all. He had to persuade a lovely young lady to please serve him one of her excellent espressos, please and thank you. He promised, he would even pay.

Mind, it was money that was most likely stolen.

So in his rather outlandish outfit -- he planned to loot later in the afternoon -- he sat on a sunny little porch outside a small coffee shop, and sipped at his drink, looking all the bit the refined gentleman with a penchant for food and drink that he'd always been.

✹ ANY DAY ✹

Any day, throughout the event, Shade could be found. He didn't frequent his usual haunts -- restaurants and fine establishments, libraries and places where a gentleman may engage in intelligent conversation and food. No, now he was found elsewhere, in the fronts of antique shops, museums, jewelry stores -- anything with an advertisement for something grandiose. The gem as big as one's fist at the Heropa local museum? He was there, taking that.

The painting of a woman lounging by the lake, mirthful smile? He took that.

A famous statue? It was a tasteful nude, he thought. That would look rather nice in his garden.

The shadows carted that off too -- albeit with a large swath covering the privates. Children on the streets, and all. Shade was a villain, but he wasn't a monster!

He directed it all with his cane, a grin, and every cheesy line one could think of, and he waited, practically jumping in his own skin for someone to put a stop to this whole thing -- or at least try. That was the fun in all of it, anyway. If he really wanted to just take it, he could just take, not go out of his way like this. Then again...

This was more fun.

[ If you'd like a prompt of any sort, feel free to hit me up @hundreds

Comments

like some rando time in Maurtia Falls

[brushoff]

Let's be honest here. Dorian barely knows how to use the communicator in his current state, it's all small buttons and touch screens and too many boring people talking about boring things. Besides, he'd rather explore this world, this future by himself. So, decked out in something that, on a good day, could be considered Victorian (but a cobbled together Victorian from the modern wardrobe in what he assumed was his apartment), Dorian had been visiting an antique shop, a bit confused and even more amused at what this world claimed to be 'antiques.'

And that's when he saw him. Somebody so blatant and so self-assured that he just stole a painting, with no care for anyone watching, no care for propriety or society's rules, he wanted that painting of the woman by the lake, so naturally he took the painting of the woman by the lake.

Needless to say, Dorian was instantly besotted. Not the sort of besotted that he was with Toby, head over heels in lust. But a different besotted, the besotted he was with Lord Henry, a besotted that is pure 'oh my god, this guy is so cool.' So naturally, he walks right up to Shade, just so amused and so interested in his the shadows as well as the man himself.

"I hope you are going to put that art to good use. It's no use having a painting like that if only you can see it. Risky as it may be, it's always better to show off!"

[foreshadower]

What a bold statement, and he wasn't attempting to stop him?

Well, Shade wasn't precisely the sort that needed encouragement to do something like this. Take a painting from it's proper owner with nothing more than a wave of his cane, a laugh, and a dance of darkness. Something public and outlandish -- it wasn't truly stealing if it was to get into a battle of powers and wits, was it?

This person didn't seem to be interested in either.

Well, perhaps wit, but that would remain to be seen.

Shade stopped, although the painting didn't, and he turned, to look him over. There was the shock of -- something -- but he put it out of his mind. It was no matter. "Quite so! What do you think, my foyer?" he asked, as if he were discussing the weather. "Certainly not hidden away in the bedroom!"

Considering that it was a nude -- it probably belonged there.

[brushoff]

The more he looked at the man, the more a faint sense of recognition niggled at the back of Dorian's brain. Why though, he had no idea. Still, as he mentioned the painting, Dorian turned to give it a better look, frowning slightly as he looked it over, putting a hand up to his chin in a critical gesture.

"Certainly not the bedroom. Something like that must be displayed! The bedroom is perfect for sentimental pieces or lesser quality art that you're somehow still attached to. But this...the brushwork is fine form and the color palette, while a bit muted, is astonishing. Perhaps the foyer...but what about the dining room instead?"

Dorian looked up at Shade, giving him a look that's about half Dorian trying his hardest to seem nonchalant and half a barely repressed form of 'please like me.' Because again. He's just so cool, please like him.

[foreshadower]

Shade was at least marginally impressed. The boy was good, at least, an eye for art and placement that impressed Shade's discerning eye, even if he wasn't sure what sort of person would be so bold to approach a costumed criminal like this. It was, after all, something that could and him in hot water, were Shade actually a dangerous individual and not... well.

He was, but not to anyone who wasn't a hero, and even then...

Doctor Fate had been, perhaps, a touch too knowledgeable for Shade's liking, to pick something like that up so easily and readily. The immortal would prefer to go no more days with that sort of information getting out as it had.

"With dinner, really? I can assure you, I don't host those sorts of dinner parties, do you?" he laughed, at a joke he'd just thought of. "Perhaps I should join one of your parties sometime, and see if it lives up to imagination!"

[brushoff]

The sort of person that has absolutely no experience with costumed criminals to begin with, that's who'd approach one.

Dorian can't help but laugh at Shade's question, a laugh that's borderline childlike as he grins at Shade, shaking his head slightly at the mention of dinner parties. Oh, how he wished. How he wished that he understood this place, that he knew this place, that he had enough clout or enough knowledge to host a dinner party here to begin with.

"Oh, I wish! No, this is only my third or so day in this brand new world, I need to establish myself and build up a presence before I dare host a dinner party." There's that childlike gleam in his eyes as he continues talking, still watching Shade with something close to admiration.

"After all, it would be a rubbish dinner party if no one attended."

[dun_moch]

Dooku is in an MF antique shop looking for something new and tasteful to decorate with, when Shade comes shopping. Or more accurately, when a hideous mass of shadows crawling along the walls and floor as though they were alive come shopping. In this case, they snatch up an obscure historical text on the Russian Revolution which Dooku had intended to aid in his continuing Cold War research.

Fortunately, the Count saw the Shade's Network post ("which among you can stand against the void"? Really now, Shade) and by this time notoriety of his crime spree has spread through the news enough that Dooku recognizes what is happening, and responds with a dry remark instead of a drawn lightsaber.

"I had my eye on that, you know," he says as the old (and quite valuable) book vanishes into the Shade's dark clutches.

[foreshadower]

Would something as banal as 'finders keepers' be appropriate? Shade thought, but decided that no, perhaps it wasn't, and in fact he needed something far more interesting, when someone wasn't either trying to draw him into a fight, and nor was he really interested in fighting with someone who might be able to hold a conversation.

He laughed, instead, the sound coming from a screeching shadow that quieted and elongated, becomign human shaped, before Shade stepped out of it, and it oozed down back to the ground, to pool at Shade's feet. Thankfully, the shadows here didn't leave the same...residue that they had back home. The lingering shadow fabric was always difficult to deal with, when he was truly looking to steal something. He often had to be cautious.

"A shame you weren't as fast as I," he pointed out, his voice very nearly merry, when he spoke. "You don't seem shocked," he pointed out. "Most mortals have been rather...distressed by my presence, lately."

[dun_moch]

Dooku took a certain fascinated pleasure in watching Shade's powers work. The way light and the absence of light seemed to flow and come alive at his very will, the grace and joy with which he wielded his abilities- this was mastery of dark power. Something Dooku could appreciate very well.

"A shame indeed," the Count agreed. "Or perhaps fortunate. If I had acquired it, perhaps you would now be robbing me instead of this establishment. And that would be quite unpleasant for both of us, I assure you."

He took a step toward Shade, to show that he was indeed unafraid. "But there doesn't need to be any such unpleasantness, does there? Your reputation precedes you. You are a connoisseur, not a monster. And I have witnessed your powers before, Shade. You mean me no harm- do you?"

He didn't want a fight either, although he supposed he should at least make a show of deploring the robbery for any witnesses, to uphold his image as a justice-minded imPort. Dooku would rather have conversation over conflict with the Shade any day.

[foreshadower]

He sighed, softly. How had so many people discovered the dark truth of him and his powers, the fact that he didn't really side towards supervillainy for any other reason than boredom. The fact that he wasn't truly a monster, but instead merely a bored immortal who was looking to have a little fun?

How did they all know?

"I suppose, if you must know, I'm more interested in finding a pretty or two, rather than killing --" he waved a hand, dismissively. "Not that I won't, but... my days as a hired killer are somewhat behind me. Watching the light vanish from someone's eyes is hardly interesting after so long." And if it wasn't interesting, was Shade really all that compelled to keep doing it? Not at all, of course. He wasn't really a killer, just someone who wasn't opposed to it.

Killers enjoyed what they did. Shade was simply...pragmatic.

"So yes, you would be correct. Certainly not in this moment, I was only interested in this book, after all," and with a wave of his hand, he fished it out of drifting shadows that seemed to drift to the ground as they dissipated, slowly falling until they were nothing more than air.

[dun_moch]

"It's coarse work for someone like you, isn't it?" Dooku agreed, nodding along. "Taking money for taking lives, like a common cutthroat. A waste of your abilities."

He could empathize, in his own way- the sick thrill of murder had faded for him long ago. Now it was purely a means to an end, about as emotional as turning on a light- unless revenge was involved. Revenge made everything a little more intense.

"It's a pity, though. I really was quite interested in that text," he mused to himself, stepping toward Shade to demonstrate that Count Dooku did not fear the dark. "Perhaps a bargain could be possible between us."

[stealwithit]

Kasumi could safely say she'd never been on a heist quite like this. There was something to be said about this particular way of doing things; Kasumi could have done this in her own way. and she would have been successful, although it would have taken longer and would have taken much more effort. Because of Shade's (admittedly very useful) powers, they were able to breeze through a lot of things that Kasumi might have taken much more care and time on, like the security system, among other things. This way was certainly easier. Quicker. Left a lot less for cleanup. Maybe she would even have time to sleep tonight when this is all squared away.

She stepped out of the shadows once the coast seemed clear, her silhouette still nearly indistinguishable between the darkness of the room and her black suit, and gazed at the still life in question. Even in the shadows, the objects in the still life still seemed to catch and reflect light--a testament to the artist's skill, in Kasumi's opinion. She only spoke to respond to Shade, for she otherwise would have been preoccupied with drinking in all of the detail on the canvas before them.

"I would say disable the sensor," she said, spoken like a true thief from a far-flung, tech-dependent future, "But I think you're going to say something about the air, since you did say 'pressure sensitive to all but air.' Am I close?"

[foreshadower]

"Shadow, actually," he pointed out, and walked to the side, like he were looking at it from a new angle. "But it's so boring to simply take," he admitted, his voice not quite petulant, but if one were to add the quality, it certainly would sound like he was whining about his lot in life. The fact that he was bored, anyway.

Because heaven forbid, in all his years of wealthy, fine living -- wherein he had the pick of whatever he could want -- it was a tragedy that he couldn't find something to alleviate his boredom all the way. There were days that even fighting the Flash was practically a chore.

"I wanted to see, how it would be done, if one were...unable to do such things. After all, thieves continue to somehow make a living, despite the... complications. Call me curious," he said.

But also, really, it was so easy, to simply take.

"How would you do it? Disable the sensor?"

[stealwithit]

Kasumi, for her part, couldn't decide whether she would rather steal things the way Shade does--simply by taking, as he'd made so clear--or if she would rather stick to her own guns. After all, if she had the kind of power he had? She could do so much. Imagine having The Kiss for a day--maybe just a day, just to confuse everyone, only for it to mysteriously reappear? As much as Kasumi liked to keep things for herself, she was also very much prone to do things just because. Naturally, it had crossed her mind, too, just how much money she could make off of her clients if she could do her work so quickly; though it was more fun to imagine the odd situations she could put herself in if she could just take things.

She folded her arms, shifting her weight onto one leg as she kept her gaze fixed ahead at the still life in front of them, appearing to give his question some thought.

"Assuming it's tech, and not a magic enchantment or something--" she said, shrugging a shoulder, "then it's got to have power. I'd cut the supply. Short it out, make it look like a glitch on their end."

She turned her head slightly to cast him a sidelong glance after that. "And you? How does your way work?"

[foreshadower]

"And it likely isn't magic," he said simply, waving a hand. "Old establishments like this, if they have magic warding," he looked up, and around. "There's normally a history, a sign. Something that looks as old as the rocks themselves, or perhaps something new, and out of place. This establishment has neither, and the humans here..." he shook his head. "They're not likely to consider the possibility of using it."

He added it bluntly, before he weighed his question, and moved, walked around, long dark limbs and a long dark cane both spindly and sharp. Like jagged-edged shadows more than limbs.

"I wouldn't bother with the alarms at all. Who cares if the guards come? I'm immortal, and can leave in a second's notice," he explained, and waved a hand.

"I'd simply sever the painting from the walls with my shadows, teleport it to my home, and follow. If I were worried about the alarms, I'd simply make the portal much thinner, tow here the sensor won't pick it up."

somewhere in MF, idk!

[beneathbluerafters]

Nine-year-old Klarion's hiding behind a trash can, and trying to do three things at once:

1) stare at the demon in the the tall hat without blowing his cover,
2) shield his eyes from the glaring sun, and most importantly,
3) avoid making any eye contact whatsoever with the nude statue being carried away by the shadows. It may be censored, but he still knows it's naked under there, and he's never seen such indecency out in the open before!

Finally, curiousity overtakes him and he steps out from behind the can, folding his arms across his chest and giving Shade a suspicious glare. He has a very important question to ask.

"... Why are you wearing pajamas?"

[foreshadower]

Shade stopped, and turned around, almost surprised at the sight of the boy -- blue skin? How odd. Not only that, but he was almost offended, for what, Shade couldn't tell, and he was informing him, rather pointedly, that his clothing wasn't appropriate.

Which was odd, Shade rather liked his supervillain garb. Certainly, it was a little ridiculous, but it was supposed to be. Mind, Jay had always been a bit more casual, but they -- the villains -- hadn't been. He grinned, and turned, to give the boy a look, a tip of his head, his cane tapped on the ground.

"I'll have you know, it's a costume, made of rather fine material, if I do say so myself."

[beneathbluerafters]

Unfortunately, at this point, Klarion had no idea what a supervillain was. Shade was just a strange adult in an even stranger outfit.

"They look like the pajamas that were on the scrying box..." 'Scrying box' meaning 'television', in this case. There wasn't any snideness in Klarion's tone, he sounded genuinely confused. He'd investigated the TV in his apartment last night, and once the initial shock of the thing had worn off, had settled in for a late-night sitcom marathon on one of those retro TV stations. One of the shows had apparently involved longjohns or footie pajamas, go figure.

"What are you dressed as? Are you a demon? Is that a demon?" He pointed at the shadows and edged back towards the garbage can, where a small orange cat stepped out from behind and curled around his ankles. "It doesn't smell like magicks."

sometime after March 29th, when wally finally catches up to him

[runningstart]

[Kid kind of really hates teleporters.

Not like- it's not like a race thing, okay? He's not racist against teleporters. Powers-ist? Abilities-ist- Whatever, the point is that he doesn't have a specific thing against all teleporters. He just hates that, as one of the few power sets that can elude a speedster, he can never seem to catch up to them. He can't spend all day looking for Shade, but after that network post? You better believe he's keeping an eye out on his patrols.

And finally, finally he spots the guy just wandering around like he fucking owns the city (which, okay, with his powers he might as well) and he screeches to a stop in front of him, arms folded, tapping his foot. Kid's not stupid. He knows there's something going around, as there usually is in this place when imPorts start acting nuts, but he's hoping Shade will at least still recognize him. Maybe he can convince the guy to yank the reigns back a little bit before he kills somebody.]

Having fun?

[foreshadower]

[ He wasn't the Flash.

Not like Barry Allen or Jay Garrick -- but he certainly was a Flash, and Shade, who'd already encountered Garrick was feeling rather delighted already, his mood improved by a great deal. Encountering another was like icing on the cake -- and he'd done enough reading -- Shade always read, and apparently they'd stuck him in a location where he'd lived before? He was here previously? Long enough to know that something had shifted, but...

There was no need to cut his enjoyment short, was there? He only grinned, and shifted, the teleportation changed him from facing one direction, to suddenly facing Wally, his grin was pleasant. ]

Another Flash? Why, I must be truly unlucky, to encounter two in one day!

[ Or incredibly lucky, more like, from the way he looked. ]

[runningstart]

Yeah, there's a few of us here. [The casual use of his powers sets Kid on edge. Shade might use his powers in front of Wally from time to time, but never quite like that. Is he younger? Is he back from when he thought it was funny to drag people into the shadows and leave them there?] So you probably know what I'm gonna ask, but what the hell, I'll ask anyway. Would you knock off all the criming you're doing?

[foreshadower]

[ Shade only laughed, and the shadows twitched and twisted, as if they were laughing as well. Something about them seemed to take on the same nature that Shade held, one of them inched closer, testing the speed and the wisdom of this particular Flash. ]

Stop? Why?

[ Well, if it was a Flash, then... ]

Perhaps I should instead say: you have to make me stop!

2/2

[garrick]

[ continued from here ]

[ It doesn't take long at all for Jay to put his video message on pause as he runs to the museum. He's already dressed for the occasion too, red leather jacket with the overly large wristed gloves, blue pants and boots, not to mention the metal helmet that makes his image a multiverse constant.

The trip is brief, twenty seconds at most but enough for Jay to wonder what triggered this particular outburst. He's not expert when it comes to Shade, he treats the guy like some strange, unknown grey area. Yet this feels out of the blue. A part of Jay is already kicking himself for going and he suspects that it could become some strange norm if he doesn't lay down the rules somehow.

The sight of twisting shadows has Jay coming to a sudden halt, quietly impressed by what he's seeing but not enough that he doesn't finish his sentence from before.]

- you'll be one sorry being. Now put them back, Shade.

[foreshadower]

Sorry?

[ He held a hand to his chest, when he turned to meet Jay, the grin on his face was tinged slightly with a manic light -- excited and invigorated. It had been too long since they tussled like was proper, and Shade felt a surge of excitement take him, before the shadows died down slightly, but the shadow-gremlins handling the Goya turned their eerie little heads, and even though there were no slits for eyes, the impression that they were looking at Jay were unshakeable. ]

I think not! You may be fast, but I've escaped from our fights plenty of times! Can the fastest man in the world truly stand to the dark dimension?

[ He didn't attack though. Posturing, talking was a part of the fun. ]

[garrick]

[ Jay can understand the posturing, finding a small part of himself enjoying it too. Back on his own Earth there'd been plenty of it, acting the hero and when he'd spent his time on "Earth-1" it had all died down to just about nothing. Nada. No posturing.

This was definitely a welcome change and Jay can't help but enjoy stretching his hero legs. It's just not enough to have him looking as amused as Shade is, not when the dark little cretins still had hold of that painting. He's not had chance to see what Shade is truly capable of and just the sight of someone else's darkness is enough to have the speedster on full alert, ready to move at a moment's notice.]

Plenty of times, maybe, but you forget one thing — I'm not that world's Flash. That assumption will be your mistake to make.

[foreshadower]

Quite! [ The shadows holding the painting writhed, slightly, before they shifted, turning from small, almost comical gremlins, into long, spiky things, the impression of teeth only confirmed when they opened their mouths, glistening with black much that dripped, and met the black of their bodies, only to disappear in the void. Oh, oh Shade was ready to have fun. Mind, he'd just been doing something similar back home -- he'd just managed to free the radio station from Culp's grubby little hands, and those shadows were trapped --

Or so he thought. He almost... There was something there. Something nagging at him, but he could hardly be bothered to fret on it now. He'd reflect on Culp later. He often did. ]

But now I'll be able to see if you can pass muster! I think you'll find that I'm going to give you a run. [ No, just that. A run. Look, he hasn't had much time to practice these stupid lines yet. ]