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A Worse Idea 2

“This White Tiger guy,” Prometheus said, looking at Anne to see if she was about to interrupt him.

She didn’t, only because she wanted him to get further into a story. Then, when he proved his own douchiness again, she could come up with a great interjection.

“He came to the city sometime in the eighties,” Prometheus said, “so I hadn’t been in the game all that long. I was more a businessman than a superhero, but I had built the basic Prometheus suit. I could go toe-to-toe with lower-level guys.”

“More like dick-to-ass,” Anne said, “HaHA!” At the end of the second ha, she already regretted the statement. She should’ve waited a bit longer for that great interjection. “That would’ve been hilarious if Louis and Matthew were here,” she said.

“Would it have, though?” Shade asked.

Anne took another sip of her drink.

Prometheus continued, “I was taking the suit out for a spin, trying to think of ways to engineer different sorts of powers. That’s when I see this White Tiger guy, hopping from one building to the next. Looks interesting, so I follow him. My jet boots are pretty quiet, so he doesn’t notice me. At the same time, he’s got this bright white suit on, so I can watch the way he leaps from building to building.”

“It’s like a dance with him,” Prometheus says. “One foot would barely touch the roof before it snapped back up into the air. The air vents wouldn’t even slow him down. He would vault over them, a hand touching the vent just long enough to propel him over the thing. Long strides, powerful limbs. I wanted to figure out the superpower that made his body work the way it did.”

Anne leaned in.

“Like I said, I didn’t know who this guy was,” Prometheus said, “so I was surprised to find out he was a villain. It wasn’t that I thought he was going to be a good guy, necessarily. It’s like I forgot he was a person. He was an image in my mind. An idea. A dance.”

“How’d you find out he was a bad guy?” Shade took Prometheus’s glass and started making him another drink.

“He ended up at City Hall,” Prometheus said. “Scaled down the wall and opened the window to the Mayor’s Office.”

“You didn’t stop him?” Shade asked.

“Things weren’t exactly kosher with me and the mayor at the time,” he said. “The mayor loved me in my civilian identity because of all the money I donated. But Prometheus? Prometheus was just some scary guy in a suit. You know how it is for most vigilantes, especially in the early days.”

Shade nodded. Wasn’t like she’d ever been a vigilante, but she’d heard enough stories to be able to figure it out.

Prometheus found the end of the story difficult to tell. That surprised him.

Shade went and made Prometheus a new drink. She set it before Prometheus. He took a sip, then smiled at Shade.

Anne, impatient, asked, “What happened?”

Prometheus said, “White Tiger killed the mayor.”

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