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Supernova
- Joined
- Dec 2, 2009
Once upon a time Blackout had read, "On a long enough timeline everything reaches zero." The heat death of the universe, the extinction of the dodo, the dissolution of Rome, the schism of a philosophy. In his arms was a superwoman, drugged, easily found and contained. It had been easier than he had thought it would be. All it had taken was time and meticulous planning.
The villain had found that patterns were everywhere, in everything, and emerged when one looked at things from the right angle. After the last time this alleged heroine, this so-called "champion," had ruined his plans and in the process destroyed over a million dollars of his hard won equipment Blackout decided that it was time to take care of her. She had ruined his gem smuggling operation the first time, then it was his human experiments, then it was his hypermeth lab and this last time it was only the tailored plague that would destroy the world's grass and with it a large amount of the food chain. Leaving Blackout with the only strain of grass immune to the plague and the ability to make billions and retire with his own private island.
What it had come down to was finding where this woman had a vulnerable moment. Though it took six months of concentrated orchestration, Blackout looked at the pattern laterally and found it, hidden sideways beneath the folds of travel. She would stop at an isolated perch and watch the ships come in and out of the bay of night like flocks of lights, listen to the distant shouts of nautical nonsense. He had gone up in the day, defrocked of his protective alternate identity, and planted a small device with a proximity sensor. Once his nemesis appeared the device exploded quietly in a burst of gas with enough opiates to down a small horse. He calculated that would be about right for her.
Blackout carried her back, silently, to the sewers where he made his getaway. After nearly an hour of twisting turns they ended up at his lair and she ended up stripped in what was essentially a closet covered with piping and conduit. He took his time to attach the chains to her wrists and ankles, he took his time to savor the experience of locking up this woman who had caused him so much trouble. It was exciting to image that she would wake up shackled, captured, naked, alone; no recourse for help or succor. The confused, fuzzy way she would see the world. At first uncomprehending, unsure.
He was standing behind her body, all six and a half feet of him, piled on with muscle. The strength he had rivaled what his musculature displayed, augmented by the energy he could force into his body. The energy that gave him a variety of powers--the ability to hit harder, fly, send kinetic blasts, nullify blows and even absorb their energy. It had been the byproduct of a successful lab experiment that had given Blackout the edge of egomania necessary to become a memorable super criminal. So far, though, his icy blue eyes were fixed on the vulnerable figure before him. The curve of her skin, the availability of her; the fantasies of what he would do to her running in a torrent beneath the angles of her face.
It was good enough to wait for her to wake up. To see that surprise.
The villain had found that patterns were everywhere, in everything, and emerged when one looked at things from the right angle. After the last time this alleged heroine, this so-called "champion," had ruined his plans and in the process destroyed over a million dollars of his hard won equipment Blackout decided that it was time to take care of her. She had ruined his gem smuggling operation the first time, then it was his human experiments, then it was his hypermeth lab and this last time it was only the tailored plague that would destroy the world's grass and with it a large amount of the food chain. Leaving Blackout with the only strain of grass immune to the plague and the ability to make billions and retire with his own private island.
What it had come down to was finding where this woman had a vulnerable moment. Though it took six months of concentrated orchestration, Blackout looked at the pattern laterally and found it, hidden sideways beneath the folds of travel. She would stop at an isolated perch and watch the ships come in and out of the bay of night like flocks of lights, listen to the distant shouts of nautical nonsense. He had gone up in the day, defrocked of his protective alternate identity, and planted a small device with a proximity sensor. Once his nemesis appeared the device exploded quietly in a burst of gas with enough opiates to down a small horse. He calculated that would be about right for her.
Blackout carried her back, silently, to the sewers where he made his getaway. After nearly an hour of twisting turns they ended up at his lair and she ended up stripped in what was essentially a closet covered with piping and conduit. He took his time to attach the chains to her wrists and ankles, he took his time to savor the experience of locking up this woman who had caused him so much trouble. It was exciting to image that she would wake up shackled, captured, naked, alone; no recourse for help or succor. The confused, fuzzy way she would see the world. At first uncomprehending, unsure.
He was standing behind her body, all six and a half feet of him, piled on with muscle. The strength he had rivaled what his musculature displayed, augmented by the energy he could force into his body. The energy that gave him a variety of powers--the ability to hit harder, fly, send kinetic blasts, nullify blows and even absorb their energy. It had been the byproduct of a successful lab experiment that had given Blackout the edge of egomania necessary to become a memorable super criminal. So far, though, his icy blue eyes were fixed on the vulnerable figure before him. The curve of her skin, the availability of her; the fantasies of what he would do to her running in a torrent beneath the angles of her face.
It was good enough to wait for her to wake up. To see that surprise.
