The Art of Interviewing

When the come to the Firm it is my job to talk to them; I like to consider myself a First Responder.

"Yes, we offer brand name recognition." "Yes, we can give you new powers." "Yes, we help design your costume for you." "Yes, we hook you up with the best PR firms."

But really, I just ask questions. I'm good with those, and silences others feel the need to fill. And most of them want to talk: hiding their truths from family, lovers, friends. I've never understood why they do that, or what it says about them and trust, but we make a lot by referring them to discreet psychiatrists. If you can't tell your S.O. you are a superhero and you go around fighting for justice and truth, it adds up to a lot of sessions.

They talk away, and I just listen. You have to be a good listener, in this job. You have to know what to say, what can't be said, what must be said even if the client could destroy the entire office building in under three seconds. It's like poking a lion in a cage, waiting for it to roar. I understand why supervillains do the things they do better, now. (I prefer the publicity end of The Firm to the financial, so I have few dealings with them.)

Most of the heroes are scared, when they talk to me. What if they lose control? What if they turn on 'beat up villain' and can't turn it off? Even with training and government funding, there is always that fear. But fear doesn't always limit potential. I pay attention to the ones with potential,. the promise for heroism, who need that small extra push to greatness.

Some of them do realize something is missing, some indefinable drive or need, but they skirt the issue, slip aside from it. And I listen, nod, make notes, and run scanners, learn identities, probe secrets. Many of them have horrible masks that any decent face-rendering system can bypass. For the others, there are simple 2-minute DNA tests, secret databanks, and government files. Can't represent a client you don't really know, after all.

We weed out the ones without families, focusing on the loved, the cherished, the kindly family people. And we send our agents out, some time after the hero has left for work, or on a patrol. Because the Firm gives the services the heroes need, not only those they want. Because only the tragic hero is real, because we are defined by our loss, the sum total of regrets. Because a pure hatred can make a hero that no idealism can truly foster.

Because they could be great, and if their families must die to save the world, this is the price paid. We include it in the miscellaneous fees, when we do not do it for free.

Why superhero marriages never happen

Priest: "Do you--"
Our Heroine: "Sorry, had to save the world. Back now!"
Priest: "Do you take Jake--"
Our Heroine: "Oh, no! The mythopoeic zoo broke! I need to close it. Sorry, back."
Priest: "Damn it, so you take him to be your --"
Our Heroine: "Hang on, I need to go rescue a kitten from a tree two blocks --"
Priest: "Look, do you want to marry him or not lady?!"

Manifesto!

You want to know why I stopped doing it? Hell, everyone else does. I was big, I was famous, yadda yadda yadda. It wasn't the battles, you know. Fight one super-powered nutjob and you've fought them all. It seldom changes, you know. The thrill remains, but the outcome is always the same. Bad guy loses, good guy wins.

You want to know the funny part? It's always brains against brawn, at some level. Superheroes tend to hit first, and tend to be quite good at hitting. Sure, they have brains, but the villains with brains are never the strong and tough types, just the brainy ones with tech and henchmen and giant robots: in the end, it just comes down to raw power. And going that extra mile, you know?

The average villain says he wants to take over the world, but the smart ones -- well, they know what a hassle it would be to run. Probably be easier to juggle tachyons, so they just really want money, and more than that: recognition. They want to be famous, to be reviled, to be feared and loathed and turned into urban legends. You want to make a supervillain impotent? Just ignore them.

Without the media, the supervillain wouldn't exist. Because it's not the villains who do the really nasty stuff, but the copycats. Genius doesn't work well with others, especially the mad kind. But below them you get those who study them, the businessmen villains who can run a real organization, who can turn the mad ideas into working ones. That's when things get nasty.

For one thing, they have legal teams.

But none of this is why I quit. I quit because they always win. No matter what I did, what I planned, the heroes always won. I take over the world, they alter the past. I alter the past, they alter the future or jump dimensions or just find me and beat me silly until I change it all back. That happened a time or two, before most of the villains began installing cameras and recording events. Now the just have to be polite about it and hide their fascism a little better.

That's all. Nothing changed. All the lawyers and tricks do is delay them. No matter how brilliant we are, we're not as driven as they are. Sure, some of us are driven in the small ways, against certain heroes, certain other villains; but the hero is driven by larger causes, deeper desires than just beating one single villain. And so we lose.

Even knowing why doesn't make a difference. Even knowing all their errors and all mine doesn't matter. All the self-help and improvement programs and psychiatric sessions don't change the fact that I never won. That I don't really matter. The heroes win because of might, but what allows it in the end is right. They will die for what they believe, fight to the last man; crazy fanatic bastards, all of them, but they still win.

The final score hard leaves me with 0. And I'm tired of it. That's why I'm quitting. Someone else can be the Quiet Destroyer, someone else can take up war against Captain Flux. Just don't expect me to care. And if they come crying to me when they lose, I'll just kick them out the door, same as I was kicked out doors years ago.

I'm too old for this shit. There. That's my final damn manifesto, if you wanted one. Now bugger off.

True Awareness

“Thank you, doctor, for agreeing to see me on such short notice.”
        “Well, it’s not often a real superhero ends up as a client, Captain --”
        “Please, no names.”
        “What can I do for you?”
        “It’s - I’m super strong, I can fly, I’m invulnerable -- but you know that. It’s on all the press releases, even the business cards. They all think it means I can’t be hurt, but inside there are wounds that can never heal.”
        “What do you mean?”
        “D---- has been asking if I have super speed now, because of the bedroom.”
        “That’s, ah, not an uncommon problem in men. Not that I’d know personally, you understand.”
        “But that’s just it. It’s ME. I’m impotent. I can’t do anything that really matters.”
        “We’ve been through this before, Captain. There are always things we can’t do, no matter who we are.”
        “I came across The Man today. Earlier, on patrol. He’s the one with the power to make women obey him: I hadn’t seen him in over a year, since that Macy’s fiasco. But this time he was using his powers differently, to make sure women didn’t put on makeup while driving their cars, to make sure they wouldn’t drive under the influence, to get them to clean up litter they dropped ...”
        “And?”
        “And I let him go. He’s doing more good now than I ever will.”
        “Captain --!”
        “It’s true! Look at me! D---- is openly flirting with her old boyfriend, calling me names all the name, mocking me every chance she gets. She’s always comparing me to Superman, even Batman, and putting me down. I became a superhero to help people, thought cosmic awareness would enlighten me -- but this, this hadn’t got me in touch with my feminine side, it’s castrated me!
        “I saved her from R----. I’ll never regret that, I’m no monster. But who never saved R----? Who made him into a monster? I read the court transcripts, what his mother did to him. It doesn’t justify what he did -- nothing does that! -- but nothing justifies what she did to him either.
        “We don’t have a monopoly on being monsters, doctor. Not as many women rape men, but those who do -- we never heard about it, do we? Nor about all the emotional abuse, the verbal barbs -- how could cosmic awareness leave me blind to that?!”
        “Captain, you may be overstating the case somewhat, don’t you think?”
        “I know, I know, but all I’m saying is men have no monopoly on assault, nor on rape, not on leaving wounds that never show. And all I can do is punch things, fly, not be hurt -- I’m every man’s wet dream, but I can't do anything that really matters.”
        “You’ve saved people, Captain. You inspire people. That sort of thing can’t be measured.”
        “Want to bet? T-shirt sales, lunch boxes, action figures -- I have them all, and they don’t sell that well at all. Even the Hairpiece Commandos sell better.”
        “Perhaps they do, but when we measure ourselves against others we always fall short. You’re not R----. You’re just you, and you’re the Captain, and only you can decide what that means.”
        “D---, she says --”
        “Captain, all you’re doing is repeating the cycle from our last meeting. You need to stand up for yourself, warts and all. Men aren’t perfect. Women aren’t perfect. You need to decide what you need, more than anything else, to regain your own happiness.”
        “I. I. I need a divorce.”:
        “Progress! Houston, we have progress! Listen to me, Captain: being a man doesn’t make you a monster. Being a woman doesn’t make her a saint.”
        “Thank you. I feel - liberated. Actualized! I want to yell! When’s the last time a man could yell? I want to --”
        “Perhaps you could just sit in the corner and have a good cry?”
        “I could do that, too! I can be me! I can be happy being the kind of man I want to be! Thank you, Doctor Shado --.”
        “No names, you said. But this is excellent progress, Captain. Same time next week?”
        “Maybe not. You never know. Maybe not.”