VELVETEEN vs. The United States Government #2
Some members of the public relations and marketing departments had put forth, delicately, that they’d been on better footing with the old board.
They weren’t wrong. They also weren’t long for the company once they said such things aloud.
Uncertainty wasn’t a telepath, but he had an unerring knack for knowing when someone had decided to utter the unthinkable, and people dismissed for those reasons did not reenter the job market with glowing references.
By order of Action Dude, and thanks to a hefty dose of self-preservation, the board had taken the position that Velveteen and the other Portland heroes should be left to their own devices whenever possible. It was an approach that had been serving them remarkably well…up until today.
“I don’t understand why you’re getting worked up about this,” said the American Dream, spreading their fingers to admire their manicure.
It was star spangled and glittery, with alternating nails painted red, white, and blue.
Since becoming a CEO, they had been taking more interest in their branding, stating publicly that they were a role model now, and wanted to inspire other genderfluid and agender heroes to feel safe stepping onto the global stage.
“My girlfriend actually is my girlfriend, and she’s seeing half a dozen other people at any given time.
Maybe even right now. I’m not the boss of her. ”
Action Dude breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth, trying to think soothing thoughts that would make this situation easier to explain to his peers.
He wasn’t having a lot of luck finding them.
“Night Shift clones herself,” he said, finally.
“It’s understandable that she’d be with multiple partners at any given time.
She must have an incredibly low threshold for boredom. ”
“She does,” said the American Dream, sounding gleeful.
They stuck their hands out toward Dotty Gale, who smiled indulgently and waved a hand, summoning a hot desert wind that blew across the American Dream’s nails, drying them.
“Why do you think she went into emergency medicine? She’s game for anything, especially something she hasn’t tried before. ”
“You are on the distinct verge of telling me things I can never un-know, so I’ll thank you to stop there, before we have to have another conversation with HR about appropriate workplace behavior.”
“Spoilsport,” said the American Dream, without a trace of rancor.
“You need to chill, my dude. Velveteen’s a free agent.
She wants to shack up with her new beau, you don’t get to say anything about it.
Especially since the reports say she broke that whole ‘everyone is turning into dinosaurs’ bullshit effect because she was concerned letting it happen would also mean letting Tag stay dead. ”
Firecracker, leaning back in her chair until it was balanced on two legs and on the cusp of toppling over backward, stared up at the ceiling and snorted. “You know, out of all the heroes I thought might trip and fall into actually mattering, Graffiti Boy did not top the list.”
“I’d call him ‘Tag,’ if I were you,” said Uncertainty. “His current paramour doesn’t take it well when people insult him, and intentionally using a code name he never chose and repudiated as soon as he was able is definitely something she would consider insulting.”
“Whatever,” scoffed Firecracker. “He was a dweeb when we were kids and I’m sure he’s a dweeb now, even if he’s a dweeb who managed to get an overrated bunny girlfriend and move to the top of everybody’s it-list.”
Silence followed her statement, broken by the sound of wood splintering as Action Dude clenched his hands on the edge of the conference table. It was solid oak, treated to stand up to higher than usual levels of abuse. It never stood a chance.
“I will forgive your rudeness because you were on his junior team, and I know as well as anyone that there are things we don’t entirely outgrow,” he said, voice gone cold. “But I won’t forgive you for insulting Vel. She’s never done anything to you.”
“She got me beaten to a pulp by a lake when she and her little allies came to take the company, and then she didn’t even have the good grace to keep it,” said Firecracker bitterly.
“And then suddenly being an animus is so so special, when it’s always been a third-string power that no one really wanted. ”
“When manifesting a specific power set is enough to get you killed, yes, you’re unlikely to want it,” said Dotty, voice gone icy. “Supermodel was killing all the animus heroes for generations. There should be hundreds of them. Instead, we have two. That isn’t something to be smug about.”
The American Dream was more succinct. They looked expressionlessly at the pyrokinetic, then waved a hand toward the door. “You may be a member of the team and an adjunct member of the board, but you’re not a CEO, and I think you should leave.”
Firecracker sputtered. “I’m allowed to have opinions, you know,” she said, letting the front legs of her chair thud back to the floor. “I don’t have to like the bunny girl to be a member of this team, even if Action Dude still has a thing for her.”
“You are allowed to have opinions, and we are allowed to react to them,” said Uncertainty. “You are neither being silenced nor suppressed when we ask you to please exit the room and consider your words more carefully in the future.”
Firecracker stood and stormed out of the conference room, her high-heeled boots clattering on the tasteful tile floor.
She tried to slam the door behind herself.
It refused, the soft-close hinges preventing it from doing more than drifting shut at its own pace.
She made a frustrated noise and continued to storm away, stomping down the hall.
Dotty Gale waited until the sound of Firecracker’s footsteps faded, then picked up her water tumbler and took a careful sip. “Well, we know the answer to whether she’s a good witch or a bad witch,” she said.
Action Dude barked a single pained laugh.
“Why are you worked up right now, anyway?” asked the American Dream. “You’ve known Vel was dating someone else for a while now. I’m just glad he’s not a corpse anymore. Necrophilia is weird, even when the corpse can technically consent.”
“Tag has filed his formal resurrection paperwork,” said Action Dude.
The American Dream continued to look at him, bewilderment writ clear across their features. They shrugged. “And? I’m not following why that’s a bad thing.”
“He’s registered himself in the Portland area,” said Action Dude. “He’s planning to stay with Velveteen.”
“Again, I say, and? She’s his girlfriend. I’d move in with Night Shift if she would let me. Can you just picture the tabloids? ‘Grammatical disaster: plural and singular they share living arrangements.’”
“They would find a way to make their lurid writeup far more clever than that,” said Dotty Gale. “We must never underestimate our friends in the third estate, for they control the narrative in the most foundational ways possible. Propaganda is a weapon beyond parallel.”
“And on that positive note,” said Action Dude. He stood, letting the bits of table he’d broken off fall to the floor. “I need to get to Portland before someone in the Superhuman Monitoring Department gets this update and decides they need to intervene.”
He left the room, leaving the others to look at one another in bemusement. He at least waited until he was a safe distance away before he lifted his feet off the ground and accelerated like a bullet train, the sonic boom generated by his flight rolling down the hall and rattling the windows.
The American Dream blinked. They turned to Uncertainty. “Should I go after him?”
“When you do, this ends without bloodshed. When you don’t, it doesn’t,” said Uncertainty. “The choice remains your own.”
“This would be a lot easier if you would just tell us what we’re supposed to do.”
“Perhaps, but then what would you do when I wasn’t here?” asked Uncertainty, and vanished.
Dotty Gale sighed, standing and offering her hand to the American Dream. “When’s your date?” she asked.
“Seven,” said the American Dream.
“Oh, don’t worry. We’ll have you back in plenty of time.”
An impossible wind whipped up around the two of them, and when it settled, they were gone, leaving the conference room empty save for the anxious-looking secretary who had been taking notes for the meeting.
After glancing nervously around, she wrote “adjourned” at the bottom of her legal pad and rose.
She needed coffee more than she had been aware was physically possible.
* * *
As a top-tier hero in the category most often referred to as “flying brick,” Action Dude was capable of reaching speeds in excess of all known aircraft, and that was without particularly pushing himself.
Here and now, in the moment, he was most definitely pushing himself, and as he soared across the continent, trees and tall buildings swayed, caught by the intensity of his passing.
Some people looked up as he flashed by overhead, catching the streak of color without any details, and they gathered their things and took themselves inside, all too aware of the damage a marauding superhuman could unleash before anyone could get there to stop them.
He reached the outskirts of Portland as the American Dream was addressing Uncertainty, dropping his speed enough to let him reach his target without overshooting it.
He landed in Velveteen’s yard as the American Dream was taking Dotty Gale’s hand. Moving at a more human speed now, he strode along the walkway to the house and rang the bell. He didn’t trust himself to knock without putting his fist cleanly through the door. Then he stepped back, to wait.
“That was a little overly dramatic, don’t you think?” asked Dotty Gale, behind him.
Action Dude swallowed a groan. “Go away. Or you’re going to see a whole new definition for ‘overdramatic,’ and I don’t think you’re going to like it.”
“What? Why?”