2nd September
09:01 GMT -5
"Did you know that this is the only place in the United States where it's legal to produce, buy and sell proper absinthe?"
Circe looks around as we promenade along the tree-lined avenues of the curiously named Rainbow Gardens Park, just off Pyle Avenue in Opal City, Maryland. She actually condescended to link arms-. Or rather -given the size disparity between us- lay her left hand on my right arm. She seems
interested but not
stunned in the way those Amazons introduced to modern technology tend to look. She's even altered her dress to something a little more modern, though she left the general cut and colour the same. I had thought that she'd want something a little more 'queenly' while engaged on a professional occasion, but perhaps something that serves to draw attention away from her face is better for a known supervillain. As it is, we're drawing looks from morning joggers and they're not
all being directed at me.
"I never developed a taste for it. For those acts of magic that are
aided by hallucinogens, there are far better options." She looks up at me as I lower the guidebook. "Why are we
here?"
"Have you ever met a man made of shadows?"
She frowns. "Yes, several times. I've even created one or two. Why do you ask?"
I nod at the
figure sat on the bench in front of us as he throws breadcrumbs to a crowd of Pigeons that don't dare to approach within two metres of him. He's wearing an unseasonable black greatcoat and a black top hat, with some sort of white.. demi-doily thing hanging from his neck providing the only real break from the sheer tone of his clothing. He's also wearing dark glasses, and there's a black cane with a silver handle propped up against the side of his bench.
Despite the morning sun, the ground around him is noticeably
darker than the rest of the path.
Circe stops dead. "What
is he?"
I smile faintly. "No one really knows. Though he is at least a century old. I'm a little surprised that you haven't run into him before, actually. He was fighting The Flash while you were fighting Wonder Woman in the fifties..?"
"I don't-." She cuts herself off, frowning. "The Shade? I had
heard of him, but I thought that he was a dilettante, a minor practitioner at
best. Not…
That."
"
He isn't under a curse. He picked fights with superheroes to keep himself
amused."
"He isn't touching his cane."
"He's never needed to
before. Why would he start
now?"
She hesitates for a moment. "I feel… That I may have missed something rather important."
Mister Swift shakes the last few crumbs out of his bag and then rises, the black edges of his clothing seeming to
flow and
stick to the bench like a gelatinous liquid for a moment before returning to normalcy. His cane doesn't even pretend, a clearly visible black solid lifting it from where it lays and holding it out to him. The Pigeons
back the heck off, one or two of the braver members of the flock darting around behind in order to get at the remaining bread without having to go
anywhere near the man-shaped abomination.
He looks around, and his gaze alights on the two of us. He doesn't
smile, but he does look…
Interested. He takes a few steps in our direction and raises the head of his cane to tip his hat. "Mister Grayven."
I nod politely back. "Mister Swift."
"And…" The skin around the edge of his glasses pinches slightly. "Miss Circe. A queer couple, to be certain, but not so strange as
some this city has seen."
Circe's eyes glow faintly as she studies him. "Shade."
"Might I enquire as to what it is that brings you to my fair city? I don't believe that I'm
aware of anyone who needs to suddenly find themselves encephally challenged." He glances down at my brochure. "Simple tourism? I could recommend a location or two, if you're interested."
"Actually, I… Wanted to talk to
you."
He holds out his hands slightly, palms upwards while his cane remains upright. "And here we are. Do you have some particular topic in mind, or should I simply point out the sheer number of warrants Madam Circe has outstanding in the United States?"
"I wanted to ask you about
Mister Simon Culp." A flicker of
something passes over his face. "I understand that you knew the man?"
"To my
regret, yes. What did you want to know?"
"I was thinking about tracking him down. Do you remember the last time you saw him?"
He hesitates, then shakes his head. "The Roaring Twenties, I think. Some… Scam or other he was running. I can't imagine why you'd want to talk to him-." Circe pulls her head back slightly. "Is something amiss?"
She turns her head towards me and frees her hands. "You
knew."
"Naturally. Did you think I'd do something like this without being
certain?"
Tenebrous strands of oily black rise from the ground around Mister Swift. "Look, I think I've been quite gracious considering who you are, but I don't appreciate-."
"Mister Swift, I understand that you've taken it upon yourself to take over Mister Knight's role as the city's 'superhero in residence' since his retirement?"
"I…
Yes? Look, is this about that DMA training scheme thing? I already informed their representatives that I have no interest in taking part."
"And if you had to summarise Mister Culp in a few words..?"
"A.. savage thug with delusions of civility? A blight upon the life of all who knew him and myself in particular? What possible interest is a long-disappeared criminal to-?"
Circe
yanks, eldritch purple fire briefly enveloping Mister Swift and incinerating his shadow constructs. His cane falls to the ground and he staggers back, the flames concentrate themselves at his chest, his whole body highlighted and looking increasingly less like a man and more like a man-shaped shadow. His glasses
melt, his eyes stare widely in horror-.
And then a white-haired dwarf precipitates out of his chest, stumbling on the pavement and then falling onto his hands and knees.
Circe waves her hands to the side, flames dying as she does so. "
That was novel. I assume that
was what you intended?"
I smile and raise my right hand at the fallen Mister Culp. "
Like you read my mind."
"
Decades of work!" He turns his head to
glare at me. "Ruined." He raises his right hand. "But I can begin…"
His eyes widen. "
I can begin-!"
He looks at his right hand in horror. "
What did you do to me, bitch!?"
"Hah!" Circe
smiles. "With the two of you bonded like that, it was a simple enough matter to ensure that your shadow-control abilities remained
behind." She affects a look of mild affront. "I am a
goddess, after all."
"No…"
She turns to me, not even bothering to keep watching him. "Does anyone actually want him, or should we just leave him here?"
I nod. "A little tricky under American law. But possession is a crime, and I'm certain that-"
"Hahaah!"
"- we could…"
"Hah
hahhahhah!"
We turn back to where Mister Swift is lying on his back, top hat and shades having fallen from his head.
He's grinning like a lunatic.
"
Hahhahhahhah!"
Um. What?
