Arthur woke up an hour later. Having wasted much of his day, he decided to have a cup of tea, before trying to figure out a way to be productive with the rest of the remaining daylight. But upon opening the kitchen cupboards, he quickly discovered that he'd somehow run out of tea.
Then again, he hadn't been shopping in a while and having been locked up at home for two weeks... It was no wonder he had little left. He was honestly surprised he'd forgotten that he actually needed to shop.
Sighing, he decided that since most of his time that day had already been wasted, he might as well be somewhat productive by completing a mundane task. He probably needed to do some housework too, now that he thought about it.
Shopping was, however, the more pressing matter, as he soon discovered he didn't have anything for an evening meal.
It was shortly after he'd finished shopping that he saw it. Sprayed onto the side of the bank, he was surprised he had missed it the first time.
It was the symbol of the Dragons, painted over the Magician's logo, with a clock painted neatly next to it. The graffiti was being cleaned by some men, but there was more than enough of it for Arthur to recognise what it was.
It was a message for the Magician from the Dragons, likely the Great Dragon himself. Arthur felt his knees go weak as the implications of this dawned on him and he stumbled backwards in shock, tripping onto a passerby.
"Idiot!" the woman shrieked indignantly and annoyed. Arthur muttered an apology, but kept his gaze on the giant graffiti painted on the bank, taking barely anything else in. This was a traditional villain summoning, commonly mistaken by everyone else for an agreed team-up proposal by the two villains in question.
And a villain had to attend these summonings or lose some of his or her precious reputation. Not showing up meant they were a coward, but appearing was not without its risks.
It was unclear whether or not this was from the Great Dragon or all Dragons. And that caused a lot of distress for the Brit. This wasn't something he could back away from, but also not something he could go to. He'd be hopelessly outmatched and he had yet to thoroughly study either gang leaders. All he knew about the Great Dragon thusfar was that he was manipulative and smart.
And Arthur had no way of knowing if the man was experienced or knowledgeable enough to look see through the Magician's act.
He started feeling sick and hurriedly walked into the teashop, the one that was fourth best in New Pond and stood across the bank. He ordered a cup of tea and sat down, dropping his shopping bags and satchel neatly between his feet, which protected the items from potential thieves (not that there were many thieves in teashops anyway...)
Arthur drummed his fingers against the table's surface, feeling the panic beginning to overwhelm him. He had to get a grip, as this reaction would not help him out of his situation!
First of all, he had to think clearly. Ask questions that he could answer... such as...
Such as why the Dragons would suddenly call him out for a meeting.
The obvious answer? The Magician was getting in their way and they were giving him an ultimatum - join them or be destroyed. But they could have done that at any time over the last few weeks. They knew the Magician was just a normal man dressed up. It didn't exactly take much to figure out ways of killing the Magician. A shot to the leg and leave him to bleed out, the man was a goner.
Of course, he often played with their minds and some weren't always certain of that particular truth...
So why now? Why would they now demand the Magician come meet them?
Arthur took a sip of tea and tried to think of anything that could give him a clue. He closed his eyes, trying to think of something, anything. Recent memories, old news...
"I'm afraid, aru... Someone from the Dragons might be starting to suspect something, aru."
"... If you give me names, I can deal with them."
"I doubt you can get rid of this one, aru. It's... The someone is the... Great Dragon."
Arthur opened his eyes.
Oh yes.
That.
The Great Dragon suspected something about the planted clues... But Yao had made it sound like the Great Dragon was onto the Black Ninja, not onto the entire plan. So, if the Great Dragon did suspect Yao and even knew that Yao was setting his villains up... Wouldn't he deal with that internally...?
How did any of this involve the Magician...?
Either way, Yao had been lying low, meaning he shouldn't be causing anymore suspicion. Perhaps the Great Dragon had connected the Black Ninja and the Magician though? Figured the two were working together? That the two were in cahoots?
But how could he think that? The Magician was an enemy of the Black Ninja, not any ally! The two hadn't even teamed up before. And they hadn't been in any official contact, aside from the night the Magician came back...
Why would the Great Dragon connect the two?
Sure, the two were connected, but wasn't it a bit unexpected? Unpredicted? Surprising?!
Then again, the Magician was an unpredictable character. So it wasn't entirely impossible for the Magician to team up with an enemy of his. But what about the Black Ninja? Why would he partner up with his own enemy...?
Considering Blackie's situation, he supposed the Great Dragon would think Yao was desperate enough to resort to insane measures, if it meant finally being free of the oppressive blackmail.
But it still didn't explain why the Great Dragon was after the Magician. Even if the Great Dragon knew the two were linked... Was he onto all three of them? Arthur tapped his fingers against the table, each tap louder than the last, deep in thought and growing increasingly frustrated, as more and more questions immerged with answers far, far away.
Why, of all days, was he now asking the Magician to come out? He knew he'd been bothering the Great Dragon for a long time now, but he'd also been pestering Frozen Bite, and the ice guy hadn't bothered him once yet.
Sighing, he took another sip from his tea.
Perhaps the why wasn't so important for now. Perhaps he could go find a Dragon later and see what was up with the Great Dragon. He couldn't talk to Yao, that would be too risky...
He looked out the teashop's window, to the bank. The clock painted next to the two symbols was the time. Twelve, midnight. The meeting place was obvious. The bank.
He frowned, glaring at the bank, as if it were somehow responsible for his current predicament.
He knew that the bank, of course, was only guilty of having some people run it that refused to upgrade their security system to something more Super proof.
He lightly shook his head.
The why wasn't important. The how was.
How would Arthur Kirkland, aka the Magician, get out of this with reputation, pride and body intact?
He knew the Great Dragon would likely bring the Dragons with him. But even if he didn't, Arthur was in no position to beat him in a one-on-one fight. And he didn't have much time to come up with ways of dealing with various scenarios.
He grabbed his satchel and took out his phone. It was a little past five. So he had roughly seven hours to figure out a way of dealing with the Great Dragon and his goons. And that was including time needed to travel home, get his Magician garb and then come back to the bank, preferably on a nearby roof top of something (being higher up was always preferable to being on the ground).
Oh. And to put the shopping away. Of course.
In all, he had perhaps three hours to come up with a plan, an hour or two to prepare for it and the last two for travel and completing mundane tasks (such as putting the shopping away).
So how would he come out of this unscratched?
He took another sip.
It simply felt impossible. There was no way he could do this on his own. There were too many unknown variables involved.
Would the Great Dragon or the Dragons be there? Would both be there? If Dragons were going to be there, how many Dragons would be there? Where would they be positioned? Which Dragons would be there? Where should he be? Where was the best place for him to be positioned? Why did they want to meet the Magician? What were his escape options? Who could he turn on who if things got very bad? Was there a sure exit he could use?
Moreover, how could he take all of them on?
He couldn't rely on Yao, even if he did turn up. The Black Ninja couldn't let the Great Dragon know the two were working together. So any amicable interactions were a taboo for Blackie, since it would risk exposing the fact that he and the Magician were in cahoots.
Perhaps that was why the Great Dragon was calling the Magician out? To see where or not the two were connected? But that would mean the goal of the meeting wasn't to have the Magician team up with them...
... But for the Magician to not see the sun rise.
He felt his stomch lurch at the thought. He hoped his conclusion was wrong.
Arthur placed his phone on the table and continued thinking.
It'd take too long to find a villain and fish for information. Similarly, it'd take too long to figure out who would be turning up that night. There was no time.
He should have seen this coming. He knew that this could happen. Why didn't he see this coming?
For a while, he sat very, very still, elbows resting on the table and hands folded together, his nose just touching his fingers. It was serenely quiet in the teashop, as if it were aware that silence was currently of the upmost importance. Even the young child who'd been screaming earlier, now quietly gnawed at a teacake, while quietly staring at his feet (perhaps contemplating something).
It was almost picturesquely quiet and Arthur could think in peace.
Then his phone went off.
"Sorry," he said to the staff and customers, smiling apologetically, while they shot him an angry look at the sudden disturbance. He hung up on the person, not really wanting to talk. It had only been Alfred anyway.
Alfred...
Arthur rested his head in his hands, as he suddenly had an idea.
Of course.
He couldn't do this alone. But he also happened to have the phone numbers of the original Dream Team. What if he could arrange for them to interrupt the showdown between the Magician and the Dragons/Great Dragon?
Then the Magician would escape unscathed. With everyone distracted, he would be able to just disappear.
But how would he get the Dream Team to turn up? Moreover, how would he get them to show up at the right moment? He needed to know why the Great Dragon called him out, after all. And, perhaps while he was at it, learn the weaknesses and strengths of the Great Dragon.
He began feeling hope again.
Perhaps he could use his Kirkland persona somehow?
He had to make sure the heroes of New Pond didn't know he knew their secret identities. Otherwise he'd just promised himself a manhunt, the target of course being the one and only Magician.
... Not something he particularly wanted. He also didn't want them catching on that Arthur Kirkland and the Magician were one and the same.
So Arthur Kirkland wasn't allowed to show interest in Supers, beyond basic knowledge.
How about Elizaveta? If they knew she was going to be out that late... But they didn't know that this villainous showdown would be happening that night. And she had chosen to keep her knowledge of a certain someone's secret identity secret.
Perhaps involving Elizaveta was too risky anyway.
She was becoming increasingly disillusioned and was smarter than he had first thought her to be (the Sight continued to obscure information).
... So how would he get the Magician to tell the Dream Team...?
He had all numbers of the original Dream Team. There had to be something he could do with that. He looked out the teashop window. The sun was shining brightly, high in the sky. Well, it was a lovely summer day.
"... Perhaps," Arthur thought, "perhaps if they knew the Magician was out and about and in vicinity of a dear friend..."
He smiled.
Well, they'd come running, wouldn't they?
He grinned widely, the villainous smile causing the small child in the teashop to start crying.
Arthur Kirkland had his back-up crew of merry men.
He could work out the details later.
"Hello? Alfred F. Jones here."
"Hello Alfred-"
"Oh, hey Artie! What's up?"
"It's Arthur." Arthur snapped, before pausing. "Besides, you called me. I was hoping-"
"Dude, no I didn't. My phone rang?"
"No, I meant- you called me earlier. I wanted to know why. That's why I'm phoning?"
"Oh, right!"
"..."
"..."
"... Well?"
"Hm?"
"Care to explain why you called me? Or do you wish to continue the awkward silence."
"Oh, yeah, yeah, right. I just wanted to know if you're going to join us at the café later this evening. You know, just the regular hangout."
"Oh. Was that all?"
"Yeah."
"Couldn't you have simply texted?"
"Well, I guess..." Alfred muttered. "Oh, but I also wanted to thank you for that advice you gave me!"
"What advi- Ooooh. You mean for that girl you like."
"... Yeah. That girl."
"Ugh, what was her name again...? I don't believe you told me."
"... uh- Magica."
"Magica?"
"Um... Yeah."
"Is she a goth or something?"
"Um... Yeah?"
"So she's a goth or she's something?"
"Yeah- I mean no- I mean, yes, she is something special. But she's also a goth. So yeah."
"You're stuttering an awful lot."
"I guess I still don't really like talking about her, since um..."
"The stalker with a crush thing?"
"I'm not a stalker."
"Of course, of course. I didn't think goths were your type."
"Uh... You know, I'm not into her because she's a goth. She just happens to be one."
"Right, yes. Sorry. Not everything's about appearance."
"Haha, yeah. If we based relationships only on appearance, you and me wouldn't be friends!"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Uh- nothing."
"... Anyway, have you found out whether or not she knows it's you?"
"Um... No."
"Oh. How come?"
"W-well, uh..."
"Can't decide?"
"What?"
"You can't decide on which course of action to take. Am I correct?"
"Uh... Yeah."
"Well, have you thought about just asking her out? Or do you plan on keeping it a secret forever?"
"I've decided to keep it secret...?"
"Are you asking me or telling me."
"Telling you?"
"Alfred..."
"Gimme a break, I'm just a little nervous! I mean, I still don't know if she does or doesn't know. I mean, I haven't seen her since the whole thing happened..."
"Aren't you doing the same degree?"
"We're on holiday!"
"... But she broke your heart a couple of days ago...?"
"We were just doing a last minute overview of everything we'd learnt, to make sure we're both ready for the next semester!"
"Alfred, there's no need to shout."
"You were interrogating me! How was I supposed to react?"
"I'm not interrogating you. I'm just curious. There's no need to be so defensive."
Alfred sighed deeply.
Why was Alfred, of all people, sighing? Shouldn't Arthur be the one? What reason had Alfred to be so exasperated with him?
Arthur waited for the American to respond, but as Alfred surprisingly failed to do so, Arthur continued speaking.
"So how are you going to find out? Are you going to ask her or...?"
"I dunno... Do you have any suggestions?"
"Why would I have suggestions?"
"Well, you're the one that gave me advice in the first place..."
"Alfred, I'm not usually that good with advice... Particularly in matters of the heart... Why don't you just talk to the bloody frog. He may be the biggest bastard on the planet, but he's good with advice. Oh wait. You two aren't talking."
"Hey, that wasn't my choice!"
"What are you, part of a cult? Of course it was your choice."
"Arthur, don't be difficult."
"I'm not."
"Then why did you bring up Francis!?"
"It's just that if you two were still friends, I wouldn't have to deal with your shit!"
"Hey, now you're just being straight-up mean!"
Arthur paused, then sighed. He hadn't meant to say that anyway.
"Sorry Al," Arthur muttered. "-fred." he added, once he realised he'd referred to Alfred by nickname. The American didn't pick up on it though. Arthur continued.
"Look, it just... It puzzles me. Why are you excluding Francis from... well, why did you cut off ties with him? I mean, I know he can be a wanker, and he is an annoying pain in the arse, but... He's not that bad."
Alfred sighed.
"Yeah... I... It's... It's just that, we-... Sorry Arthur, I... I can't really talk about it."
"See, it's moments like these when it feels like you're in a cult," Arthur quietly said. He then cleared his throat. "Look, I can't meet up with you and the others this evening. I've still got some work to do..." a lie. "... and I'm really tired. I slept badly last night." oddly, the truth.
"Oh. Well, uh... See you around, I guess."
"I wish you luck in your endeavours with... Magica."
"Who?"
"The girl you're infatuated with? You know I'm starting to-"
"Oh right! Magica! Uh- you see, her real name is- uh- Virginia, but everyone calls her Magica, but to me she's Virginia and uh-"
"... All right Alfred. Please stop rambling..." Arthur said. Alfred paused and then let out a deep breath.
"Anyway Alfred, as I was saying- Oh. Hang on."
"Hm? Arthur? What? What's up?"
"Is... Is that the Magician?"
"Huh?! Arthur, where are you, what's going on?"
"Well, I'm just in downtown New Pond... Uh... Applegate Avenue. I'm not sure but... Oh! Yes! That's the Magician. Golly, he's in a rush..."
"Hey, Artie, great talking with you, chat to you later, something came up, Mattie's dying, I mean- he's got to be picked up, wait no, I mean yes, uh, gotta go, bye!"
Arthur laughed after Alfred hung up on him. That was a terrible reaction to having to deal with something that your friend couldn't know about.
He put his phone away in the satchel and casually walked into a tall shopping centre. He walked up to the top floor, occasionally stopping to look at the clothes (not that people realise he wasn't a potential buyer), before sneakily entering the staircase to the roof. Once by the door to the roof, he quickly changed into the Magician and opened the door, locking it behind him.
He walked to the side of the building and looked out from there. America should be arriving soon. He should make his exit strategy fast, while he still had the chance.
America could see the Magician standing on the roof of the mall, from perhaps a block or two away. He expected the Magician to do something - anything - from up there, but the Magician didn't. He just stayed on that roof, as if waiting.
And then the Magician waved to him.
America figured the villain was waiting for him. And that idea did not sit well at all.
It took a while to figure out a way up to the roof, especially since he wanted to do so without drawing too much attention to himself, but he eventually succeeded. And that, despite the hoard of fans trying to get a slice of his attention, them having noticed him (perhaps donning the mask that early had been a mistake).
Once on the roof top though (America had discreetly asked the mall's security for access to the roof), he finally stood across his first archnemesis, the Magician, who sat on the roof's ledge.
"Hello, I was hoping you'd come," the Magician said, smiling. America scowled at him, a face one rarely saw on Alfred. The American regretted showing up to fight with the Magician. Not knowing whether or not the Magician knew his secret identity had made him very, very nervous and actually seeing the Magician had made it worse.
But it was almost intinctive of him to come. Arthur had told him the Magician was in a rush to get somewhere and he had just assumed the Magician wanted to steal something or perhaps... worse. He'd been worried that someone might get hurt.
However, it seemed this deduction had sadly been wrong. It didn't look like the Magician planned on hurting anyone... Not for this particular meeting anyway.
"You know, if you wanted to hang out, you could have just handed yourself over to police custody. We'd see each other at the trials," America replied, as coolly as his nerves permitted him to be.
The Magician's smile twitched a little, but did not fall. The villain got off his perch, but didn't approach America. He wasn't that stupid or full of himself.
Good grief, you try doing something nice to someone for a change..." he started, trailing off. America frowned.
"If you wanted to do something nice, how about you stop doing your crazy stunts and hand yourself over to police custody."
"Oh, but what fun would that be? Besides, I still have to fix my reputation. Since you let an impersonator destroy it."
"Come on Magic, that guy may have sucked as a villain, but he was way more fun than you."
"Don't insult me. Alfred."
America flinched and folded his arms, so as to not do anything he could regret. He forced a smile.
"Who?" he asked, innocently. The Magician's smile fell.
"... Alfred?" the Magician asked, a bit of uncertainty in his voice.
"Who's Alfred?" America insisted, his smile becoming real and relief overcoming him.
"But... That's your name- isn't it?"
America simply rolled his eyes, but didn't otherwise reply.
"But..." the Magician trailed off, seeming confused. "But... I thought... Damn it, I should have known..." he muttered.
"That's dirty, you know. Trying to find out my secret identity."
The Magician glared at him.
"It's not something I was deliberately trying to find out- Why am I telling you this."
America laughed.
"I've got one of those faces, you know? Trustworthy, friendly, a guy you can confide in. You wouldn't be the first villain to tell me the whole truth!"
"Oh, shut up, you stupid brat," the Magician muttered.
"Come on Magic, why don't you give up now? You're way past your sell-by-date anyway and I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one tired of this stupid chase."
"Stupid chase?" the Magician asked dryly. "See how stupid it is tonight," he added, threateningly.
"What?" America asked.
"Look, usually I don't give a heads-up to anything, but even you must have seen that beatiful spray-painting on the wall of a certain bank."
"... What..."
"As said, for once, I'm trying to be nice," the Magician continued. He threw a card to America, which the hero caught. He looked at it. It only had a time on it.
"You'll know where to go," the Magician added. "And trust me, you'll want your hippy group of friends to be with you for this... But for now, I really must be going. Places to deface, things to steal, that kind of thing." The Magician got on the ledge.
"Hang on!" America said, running towards the Magician. He always forgot that he needed to approach the Magician. Keeping distance was always a mistake. But before America could reach the Magician, the villain smiled and waved goodbye, saying "Toodles" as he took a step back and seemingly jumped off the roof.
Once America got to the ledge, he looked over the edge. To some of his relief, the Magician was not now a nasty splat on the sidewalk. The Magician had, once again, seemingly vanished into thin air.
Unbeknownst to him, the Magician sat just a level below him, having hurriedly clambered into a window that he'd opened prior to America's arrival. He looked at the rope he'd used to help him hurriedly climb through the window.
"That was fun..." he muttered. "Not something to do again anytime soon though..." he then added.
After all, he'd actually almost not grabbed the rope on time.
That was two birds with one stone for Arthur. Or at least, he hoped so... Alfred seemed to swallow his lie, but he shouldn't assume so. Also, there was a good chance none of the Dream Team would turn up, seeing as it could easily be a trap... And they might be too stupid to crack his message.
So he'd made a back-up plan in case the Dream Team didn't show up.
In fact, he made as many back-up plans as he could, since he'd decided that his reputation was not worth his life... Sadly... That was two back-up plans.
... It would be rather difficult to get his reputation back though, should he have to flee the scene. Perhaps it was time to change from highly visible to invisible? He'd always considered the possibility, but he also knew it was considerably less fun.
... This was not something he had to think about right now.
He had to focus. He'd been summoned by the Great Dragon and his gang; he had to be on his toes for this. The Sight helped him survey the area, as he waited. He'd instructed the Dream Team to arrive fifteen minutes after midnight, but he couldn't know for sure if they would arrive punctually. He likewise couldn't know if that'd be too late or too early for him.
As it currently stood though, he hadn't seen a single Dragon yet. He took a pair of binoculars out of his coat. Perhaps they were around, the Sight simply couldn't see them, because they were too far away.
They were five minutes late and this began to increasingly bother him.
Why call him out if they weren't going to do anything...? Arthur frowned in worry.
Perhaps the Great Dragon was taking precautions in taking the Magician down and had actually chosen to observe the Magician's behaviour first? It'd make sense and sounded like a good tactic - but it was no good if he didn't see the Magician in action.
He hoped the Great Dragon wasn't observing his behaviour...
Looking through the binoculars, he looked further out for any Dragon...
For a moment, he thought he'd find no one (well, no one of interest), but the his vision stopped, spotting a small group of Dragons standing by a large window in one of New Pond's many skyscrapers. The Dragons must have internal connections to the building, but...
... They were observing him. He frowned. A long-distance camera had been put up and was connected to a large screen, so that they could see him. He also saw an actual hired hand. Professional assassin - a sharpshooter.
Arthur felt his blood run cold. He'd been right - the Great Dragon only wanted to kill him. Draw out and kill. He could see Yao standing nearby, talking to the Great Dragon.
He lowered the binoculars and looked around, pretending not to have seen them. It was only thanks to the Sight that he'd even seen the silhouetted figures. But he needed to do something.
They hadn't noticed that he'd seen them yet and he was doing his best to keep an expression of impatience on his face.
He looked at his pocket watch - something he occasionally brought with him, but also only used, as the Magician. Eight past midnight. He had seven minutes to do something to draw them out.
He didn't want the Dream Team showing up for now reason after all. He placed his hands on his hips, one of the hands landing neatly on the stun gun. He was too far away to shoot and his aim wasn't nearly good enough to hit any of them from that distance anyway.
He faced away from them.
If they were going to kill him though, why observe him first?
He looked through the binoculars again. He pretended to observe the surroundings again, then looked straight at them. The sharpshooter was getting in position.
He looked away and did his best to appear confused. He needed to do something...
What had he brought with him?
A few gimmicks to help with the basic illusions, the stun gun, binoculars, his pick-lock kit...
Hang on.
He took out a few smoke pellets. He'd never be able to reach them, but he knew exactly how to deal with them.
After a few moments, he looked poignantly in their direction, with a firm glare sent in their direction. It was nearly fifteen past.
He threw the pellets down and to anyone observing seemingly vanished into thin air.
Do you remember the bank from Chapter 21 - Blood? If you're confused, reread that. I may have to do some editing if I have time to spare, since I've started referring to the Dream Team as... Well, "original Dream Team" and "Dream Team", the originals being the axis and allies that are good and the Dream Team being all other (*coughpopularcough*) Super Heroes in New Pond. I don't know when the distinction started...
That reminds me, I keep forgetting to mention that the Magician blog is up. You can find it under thevillainousmagician. tumblr. com :) - Any questions, you can ask there - you should be able to ask anonymously.
Sorry about the time skip, as it turns out, this was something that needed immediate resolution. ^^; The skip is coming though. Also sorry for the sloppy editing. I was watching the voice. ^^;