Hi, all! Kali speaking, and I've got a fic to start up. Read the story 'Cookies on Thursday' for the full story, but the skinny is that Semine and I have a contest, where we write stories (of shortness) and put each other in them. Got it? Good. This is a Teen Titans fic, with Semine making an appearance. See if you can't figure out who's who.
And now, I get to say that I do not own Slade or the city. I do, however, own Sylvia. Hah. She's all mine! MWA HA HA HA HA!
Going on with that story type thing nowish.
It wasn't that Sylvia herself was evil. She was just infatuatedwith it.
Her sensible side told her that he did evil and horrible things to innocent human beings. But when the news reported on it, all Sylvia could think was, Damn. He's hot. No, Good God! How can he do that?or I hope the Titans will come soon! Just, How often does he go to the gym?
Sylvia had repeatedly told herself that she was not, in fact, a drooling schoolgirl. She was, instead, a twenty-eight year old corperate lackey at the law offices of Stienweir, Slugg, and Averey. She had not place swooning over supervillains.
But whenever the news said there was a new Slade sighting, she sat up.
Sense occasionally prevailed in these moments. The little voice in her head that got her through college reminded her that if he ever saw her, he'd only register her as something in his way. And none of that 'love of a good woman' crap ever came up. The myth of the 'love of a good woman' had died in Sylvia's eyes when her mother walked out on her father.
So, all in all, Sylvia was a hopeless case. She was sort of proud of that. No one would try to help her get her man, because he was unattainable. Even if she caught him, she'd have to turn him over to the police. So she could happily daydream all she liked, and no one would ever say she should take action.
Sylvia put on her collection of silver bracelets and checked her appearance. She looked quite nice, in all black with silver accents where applicable. The midnight moon spilled in through her window, making her pale skin seem even paler, and making her black eyes glitter.
She walked into her niece's room, kissed her goodbye, and left her apartment.
When Sylvia got to the warehouse at the edge of town, she paused for a moment to gather some courage. It had been pure luck that she had heard of this...party thing the villains had. Why they allowed a party of known criminals to be even talked about near a law office escaped Sylvia. But hey, she could get some freebies, free food, and maybe meet some interesting people.
Said her brain. Her heart said that the fact he might be there was a major factor in the decision. But hey, what does the heart know?
Sylvia opened the door, and was blinded for a moment by the lights. When her eyes at last adjusted, she saw, not a party, but a convention. Yes. A convention of evil. Great... Plus sized kids in spandex. Ew much? Sylvia got a badge, forked over some cash, and scribbled a psudonym on the badge. I'm off to see the idjits! The wonderful idjits of (the) con!
Sylvia got some coffee and decided to roam the floor for interesting goodies. Maybe even something free!
Her optimism was sadly, unwarranted. Half the time she was hit on, and the other half of the time she was forced to hear the cheesy schpiels of dealers. Most of the schpiels ended with a comment about her breasts. Yipeee.
At the corner of the room, Sylvia noticed a small booth, with apparently nothing to sell. "Does this little booth here serve a purpose?"
The man in the booth was tall, with dusty brown hair and a smooth voice as he said, "Why yes it does. It seperates the wannabe crooks from the hardcore villains."
"All of whom should be put under observation."
"Of course. You can't actually have a person dedicated to evil."
"Unless, of course, they have a law degree."
"Of course."
Sylvia smirked. This person apparently had a brain. "So which category do I fall under?"
"Depends. What do you do for a living."
"I am the ultimate evil. I am both a corperate lackey and a lawyer in training. Fear me and my unholy documents."
"Impressive." The man paused, thinking. "How many acts of evil have you committed yet, then?"
Sylvia pretended to think. "I just screwed a guy out of fifteenthousand dollars becuase I found a reciept. Acts of evil: countless. Illegal acts: none. Wait, I think I've jaywalked a few times, and I did drink water on a Georgia train once..."
"I'm so disappointed. One with such an apt brain like yours, you should be doing something useful, like liberating weapons from laboratories, or committing genocide. Not things like finagling documents."
"I belive you said evil, not illegal. There is, astoundingly, a difference. And paperwork happens to be what I'm good at. That, and rulesmongering." At the man's arched eyebrow, she continued, "Don't ask. Gaming term."
"Now that's the ultimate evil."
"And it's not even me. My niece is scary sometimes. I use her to keep the angry mobs away."
"How efficient of you. Tax deductible and useful for protecting yourself from bodily harm."
"That's why I keep her around," Sylvia said with a smile. "Well then, I'm off. I've got to see those interesting weapons over there. Good luck with finding 'hard-core' villains." Sylvia turned to leave, but a hand on her wrist stopped her. She turned around, all pretenses of a smile gone. "Not one of your smartest moves. Get the hell off of me. Now." Sylvia, the impatient girl she was, yanked her hand away and slapped the man before disappearing into the crowd of fat teenagers.
Sylvia was wandering in the crowd when a glitter from one of the booths caught her eye. When she went over to the booth, it wasn't (as she thought) a costuming area, but a weapons dealer, specializing in medieval blades. A particular knife caught Sylvia's eye. "Is this real mithril alloy? I thought those weren't used anymore," Sylvia breathed, picking up the knife. It was about a foot long, the edge paper thin, and the hilt was wrapped in strips of leather, with silver vines around the spot where the blade and hilt met. Etched into the blade was a design of a flowering vine that matched the silverwork around the hilt.
The shopkeeper hopped up from her book, smelling a sale. "Why yes it is, dearie. Do you have any experience with knives?"
Sylvia was playing with the knife, testing it's balance and tossing it in the air. "I've taken a few classes," she said offhandedly. Her father had made her take every self defense course he could find, including one that specialized in knifework. "How much?"
"Usually, $500. But for a lady such as yourself, who can properly appreciate quality, $300."
Sylvia thought for a moment, still playing with the knife. Mithril alloy was hard to find. When she had looked for it on eBay, it usually came up for $250, but the price inflated within moments. And the design was really pretty. Sylvia decided on one last test before she purchased the knife. She threw it deftly at the wall, missing the merchant by inches, and hitting the cement wall, where it embedded itself four inches. "If you would pull it out for me, please? I'll take it. Do you take charge?"
The merchant stood in shock for a moment, then came to her senses and nodded, taking Sylvia's outstreched card. She rung up the deal and pulled the knife out of the wall, handing it and a sheath to Sylvia.
Sylvia started her way out, feeling that there was nothing left at...evil-con. How did I wind up at evil-con? Who arranged for evil-con? Sylvia just shook her head and smiled. Evil-con. Who came up with this stuff? Oh, yeah. She came up with the name. At least it wasn't Currently-Unnamed-Convention-of-Evil-con(Working Title). That could have been bad.
Sylvia was shaken out of her musings by the soft sound of footsteps behind her. She got out her compact to 'check her make-up' and see behind her. Yep. It was the guy from the booth. Sylvia pretended to drop something and bent down, waiting for booth-man to come closer. When he was within the proper knife-chucking distance, she sprung up, throwing her knife at the man. The knife pinned his shirt to the brick wall behind him. Sylvia walked over to him slowly.
"You know, when a girl says get the hell off of her, she also means that she doesn't want to see your face anymore. Care to explain?" Sylvia glared at the man.
"You wouldn't belive me."
"Yes, but I wouldn't belive that you would be so stupid to allow yourself to get caught by a novice. Try me."
"I was looking for... a buisness partner at the convention. An apprentice, if you please. You seemed like the best choice, if a bit skittish."
"Yeah, well, you chose the wrong way to go about proposing a merging. I shall happily meet you at my office in one week. But if I see you anywhere near me or those in my life in a non-buisness enviornment, I shall be forced to make sure it doesn't happen again, even if it means leaving your body in a ditch."
"Agreed then. How does lunch next Thursday sound to you?" It infuriated Sylvia that he had managed to keep a light tone during the whole encounter.
"Jolly. I'll see you then. Goodbye." Sylvia removed her knife from the man's shirt and started to leave. "One last question. I will assume that the name on your badge," which read John Doe, "is a pseudonym. Can I get your real name? Or at least a more beliveable fake one?"
"My name is Derrick Covert." And with that, Derrick left, walking away from Sylvia.
Sylvia walked into her apartment, suprised to find the lights on. She ran into her niece's room, worried about Adriana. Instead of finding Adriana's mangled body on the floor, Sylvia found Adriana staring at her, sitting in her bed, perfectly intact.
"Where were you?"
"Evil-con," Sylvia told her neice innocently.
"And you didn't take me? How mean!" Adriana dropped her look of mock anger, replacing it with concern. "I was worried about you when I didn't find you in your bed."
"Honey, you needn't worry. I'm the worry wort in this household. I will always be fine. I should have left a note, but I didn't expect you to wake up while I was gone. Go back to sleep and I'll tell you all about Evil-con." Sylvia walked over to Adriana's bed, kissed her goodnight again, shut off the light, and went to bed.
"No more midnight excursions," Sylvia said to herself before drifting off to sleep.
Author's Note: Free Food! Yea!
I hope you liked my installment of the contest of Doom!(doom...doom...doom...) Man, I love echos!
Please review, and yes, I will update my other stuff. I am working on the next chappie of Bird Unknown, and am planning chapter four of Goodbyes.
This is Kali; sleep deprived and out.