Chicago Wildlife - 15. What Are We, Some Kind Of...(Part 2)

Mega Chapter 14: What Are We, Some Kind Of...(Part 2)

So it’s a crossover event. You’ve been in a few of those before. You are overjoyed at the occurrence. To have a crossover event means the publishers are confident that the Readers are invested in this world, and will purchase the ongoing series. To have you in it means the Readers are still interested in your character and want more exposure from you. You would not want to disappoint.

While no one was looking, you had snuck a peek at everyone. You did not recognize some of the people that were in the gas chamber with you. The disguised janitor, the hotheaded youth, his (possibly intentionally written) homoerotic partner, so perfectly contrast to him in every way. You wonder how popular they are in their own series. Are you partnered up with A-listers? Or D-listers? You’ll just have to kill them and sense the Readers’ reaction.

The mime you recognize from the paper. You briefly wonder why the Author is so insistent on believing that newspapers still exist. But regarding the mime, his face had eluded authority for years until he inevitably slipped up, gotten himself caught on camera. He tried to smooth things over, but bungled that job as well. His existence was publicized soon after. You believe that’s a good enough summary of his backstory for new Readers.

The man with the bad Joe Pesci accent you have also seen before, though in a slightly less glamorous light. He is, to use a word Cid would use, like a liaison between those with superpowers and those without, making him a local celebrity, but without the respect. The mime and the New Yorker (displaced here in Chicago) are pretty standard comic relief characters.

Unlike all the others, though, the woman is a completely new character. You can tell. You have neither heard of her before nor seen her. There was no foreshadowing of her existence. The Author must’ve created her from whole cloth, just for this event. New villains are always created for major crossover storylines. Her presence confirms the situation you’re in must be high stakes.

After the gassing, you next awake with your compatriots on top of a building. It is raining and you have the sinking suspicion that Persephone, and her mysterious organization, do not care if you drown, face-up and unconscious in the rain. You notice some of your teammates have already awoken, already talking. You are aware, you sense the panels, which means it’s time for you to act.

You start plotting. If you do nothing during this story, the Readers will deem you too boring, and you risk disappearing from existence altogether. Your only purpose is to provide an entertaining narrative. For a team-up arc such as this, the Readers want plenty of interaction between characters. Of course, no one ever said the interaction has to be strictly verbal. After all, what better way to get people talking than “interacting” someone’s throat with your knife? Tragically, there is no woman around to make for easy controversy. You will have to resort to finding the most popular character amongst the cast and kill him at the pivotal point. He’ll just be revived in a later arc, and virtually unharmed in his own comic series. No lasting damage, unfortunately, but you can’t afford to be stingy at this point. You make a show of sitting upright.

“Oh look, Peppy finally decided to roll out of bed for his morning coffee,” says Robin.

You size up the lithe man, who is standing next to Jacques and Pierre. He’s certainly more attractive than the other two, more personable. Readers would lament his death more so than the jerk or mime. Perhaps he should be your target? Or should you try to break up the twin-like dynamic of Cid and his friend?

“How the hell are we supposed to get anything done around here when we have two mutes on the team?!” yells Jacques.

Robin leans down towards you.

“Alright, let me let you in on a little secret,” he says. “The woman with a superiority complex? She ain’t the type to just choose any random saint to join on her personal chauffeur project. And I don’t have the time to pretend that you don’t have anything to contribute here. So let’s speed things up and get to the point where you tell us exactly what you can do and how you’re gonna help us get out of this mess.”

Interesting. So not all of the characters here are two-dimensional cardboard cutouts, completely devoid of genre-savviness. It makes your job of providing entertainment that much easier. Now is the time to start that.

“She is a new enigma,” you say. “Born out of darkness and curiosity. She gathered the most compelling personalities for the sake of amusement.”

You leave out the part about it being for the Readers’ amusement.

“And as for what You can do…special powers are not a trademark of You.”

Robin straightens back up and smirks.

“Not the most competent attempt at avoiding the question, and just between you and me, your sources are wrong. You’ll see what MY power is when the time is ready.”

Though your face remains unchanged, you frown on the inside. So he, like the others, is not self-aware, but merely genre-savvy. Otherwise, he would have seen the capitalization in your words. Still, he seems to have the most screentime out of all the characters thus far, so your plan to murder him is legitimized. Now you just need to separate him from the group. Not to mention that you stalled the story long enough with recap.

“You,” you say, snidely, “can give insight into the mind of Persephone, as well as that of the poor red herring, Ditto Perfect.”

“I don’t have to-” Robin begins before you all hear a snapping sound.

You all turn to see Pierre silently demanding your attention. You notice the two other characters, Cid and his friend, have also woken up. Cid is shivering, and his friend (lover?) is standing behind him, apparently trying to shield Cid from the rain. An interesting interaction you will have to make a mental note on and return to later. For now, the mime must speak.

#

Pierre managed to get everyone’s attention. He didn’t like the fact that he had to create some noise in order to do so, and the sound of snapping his fingers would certainly leave him with a migraine later on, but it would appear that time is of the essence at the moment. Pierre could sense that the whole plot was derailing, and Pierre would rather not test Persephone’s story about the nanomachine bombs she had implanted inside their heads, so he took it upon himself to introduce everyone to everyone and get back on track.

Robin, in an agitated voice, asked him to explain himself, preferably in words. Pierre sighed. They never learn. It would seem the whole group thought Pierre wore this makeup just as a fashion statement, and that he didn’t object to Persephone’s plan out of sheer spite for the rest of them. Pierre was starting to wonder if they’d been right.

Pierre first promptly sat on the ground, mimicking You’s position perfectly. He then pointed at You.

Jacques lamented the fact that, during a black ops mission, they were all now playing charades with a clown. Pierre decided now wasn’t the time to pantomime a long, worn-out rant about the multitude of differences between clowns and mimes, but he did permit himself a stink eye towards the fat man. Pierre pointed towards You again.

Robin called out his dully ironic nickname for You. Pierre nodded. He then adjusted an imaginary nametag on his shirt. Simple. Cid, now huddled tight against a doorway leading to the lower floor, answered with the suggestion that he was hanging a framed picture on a wall. So much for genius-level intellect. Before he could shake his head in the negative, Jacques butted in, exclaiming that You’s window to the soul must’ve been very tiny, before adding a comparison to a certain member of You’s anatomy. To keep this trainwreck from derailing even more so, Pierre shook his head no and waved his hands around like he was wading in a pool. He repeated his pantomime, hoping someone had common sense and just the faintest whiff of imagination. Fred asked if he was talking about a nametag. Pierre nodded in the affirmative while pointing at Fred. Of course it was Fred. Robin combined the two words together to bring about the current phrase, which was deciphering You’s name.

Now would come the hard part. Pierre first tried pointing at Robin. Robin responded with the lewd letter. Pierre had no way of wrapping his mind around why Robin would say that. It was really more of a Fred thing to say. Before Pierre could even try, Robin corrected himself and stated that he meant Disappearance instead. It at least explained his previous answer. Either guess was wrong, so Pierre waved his arms in a negatory way. Pierre pointed at Robin again, and this time Robin said his own name. Again, this was incorrect. Pierre expressed his frustration by rubbing his right temple with his right hand. He figured he would need to try a new approach.

Pierre pointed at You again, with everyone saying You’s name, followed by him doing his nametag movement again, with everyone repeating their answer from the last time he did that. He couldn’t believe the audacity they had in saying everything deadpan. If You’s face was readable, he’d surely look bemused by all this. This time Pierre figured he would try something a little more literal. He laid on his back, lifted his legs up, tilted his feet upwards, and raised his arms up, doing his best to try to resemble the letter that sounded like You’s name. When Jacques suggested roadkill, Pierre knew that he wasn’t limber enough to do the letter justice.

An idea came to mind. It was against mime protocol, and Pierre was better than this, but they were on a time crunch, and it was always the simpler terms that were harder to convey without sound. Pierre stood up again, pointed at You, did the nametag, and then simply took his pointer finger and traced out the letter shape in midair. Cid said the man’s name was semi-circumferential. Not only was that the dumbest suggestion Pierre had ever heard, but it was also dead wrong. Thankfully, Fred, once again, proved to be the brains of the bunch by making the much more acceptable answer of the letter Pierre was drawing. Pierre’s face brightened as he nodded in the affirmative and gave the thumbs up. Finally!

Robin apparently thought that Pierre was merely spelling a name out. He inquired as to what else the name contained. Pierre stared at him, not knowing what else to say. He repeated the U-motion. Robin expressed some disbelief that the man’s name was simply You. There simply wasn’t any room for argument though.

#

“What?! So the creeper’s name is just You? What a bunch of bullshit.”

“Given the prominent facial structure of the man’s face, it would not be absurd to consider him part Asian in descent. It is not unfamiliar for someone of such descent to bear the name Yu, spelled ‘Y-U.’”

“Is that it, Mr. Mime? Peppy here is named Yu? No? Well, what IS his…oh. Funny. You’ve got a bomb injected into you, and you decide now’s a good time for middle school trolling?”

“You never lied. You just wanted to test the competence of the company you keep.”

“You’re really gonna keep this up, huh?”

“Hey! The mime is doing the thing again! Quick, Robin, what’s he saying?”

“Disappearance is fine, thank you so much for asking. And am I really the only one here who’s capable of interpreting some simple hand gestures?”

“Although I am fluent in American Sign Language, as I am in multiple different auditory languages, I am admittedly lacking in the department of deriving meaningful extrapolation from deeply personalized hand movements.”

“Cid says no, dude.”

“Thanks. Alright, Mr. Mime, from the top. Uh-huh. Yeah. They can all go suck a bag of dicks? Fascinating.”

“You motherfucker! What, you think just because you’re mute, means you can get away with telling us off?!”

“Mr. Hein, I do believe Disappearance was fibbing just now.”

“You concur with this assessment.”

“Names, people! The mime wants names! Let’s all pretend it’s two years ago, back when you were still struggling in kindergarten, and let’s all go around in a circle and say who we are, and what we can do. ‘Cause I’d sure like to know what I’m working with.”

“I’ll go first! My name’s Fred, but you can call me Malartic. I got the cool touch all the ladies crave. And this here’s Cid!”

“My specific mutational abilities grant me abnormally substantial control over pyro-”

“He can shoot fire and stuff.”

“You find the whole ‘fire and ice’ bit cliché.”

“Nobody asked you!”

“You lead into an excellent segue. You is nothing but a villain, a ‘normal’ man created to do horrible things.”

“And I’m Disappearance, and that’s Mr. Mime-”

“You believe that Pierre is a disgraced master assassin that the news outlets have dubbed ‘Monsieur Mime.’”

“Of course they did. Care to say what you can do, Mimey?”

“Yo, he ain’t talking!”

“Well now, it looks like it’s ole Jacques Hein’s time to shine. According to my ‘sources,’ not only is the mute here mute, but he can also turn off noise around him. Makes killing people real easy for him. Eh? Don’t look at me like that, you freak. What, you think you could keep your little secret from my ‘sources’ forever? Forget about it!”

“And who here hasn’t used Jacques for something? Show of hands. Cid? Fred? Peppy? Don’t worry. You’re not missing out on much. All he’s good for is a pair of legs to move his mouth from one place to the next.”

“Heh heh. Yeah, you say that, but who keeps coming back to my office time and time again?”

“Hey! Hey! Let’s get back to that whole ‘read the mind of that chick’ thing. You got psychic powers or something?”

“You already said you never lied. And that applies to when you said that you never had any powers.”

“Oh, so you’re just really good at reading people, huh? I bet.”

“You know that, as the focal antagonist, Persephone won’t just let everyone leave, even after the job is done. She is the type of character that is carefully constructed to be entertainingly unsympathetic.”

“Yeah, yeah, the dame is trouble. We all got that, Einstein.”

“Perhaps the comic relief would benefit from knowing that this new enemy would also not just leave the party stranded with no hope of victory? It would not be as engaging to the important people otherwise.”

“Say what?! We’re being filmed? I don’t see any cameras. Is this like that one movie?”

“That is a cerebrally disturbing thought to ruminate.”

“What is it, Mr. Mime? You’re going to have to speak up.”

“You believe Monsieur Mime was asking for an elaboration on what constitutes as ‘hope’?”

“I agree with the pierrot. If you have additional information regarding our means of survival, the present is the perfect opportunity to disclose it.”

“Yeah, out with it already, ya freak!”

“If it will move the plot along, Persephone would want the group to be in recognizable outfits, so that the important people will know who is who. It only makes sense that the team’s costumes and gear would be accessible somewhere nearby.”

“Ooh! So maybe that storage crate over there contains our stuff instead of tools!”

“I have substantial qualm that Persephone would-”

“Aaaaand the spaz is already running. Sheesh.”

“I found them!”

“What the fuck?!”

“Enlighten me as to what our belongings consist of. We do not wear costumes when we engage in battle.”

“Hey look! They brought us those red and blue, three-piece suits we like to wear! Hey, who’s snake-themed wetsuit is this?!”

“That’ll be mine, Sugar and Ice – hey, don’t throw it at me!”

“Hey spaz, what’ve they got in there for me? I ain’t no superpowered freak like you guys.”

“Hey is this knife yours wait no it says ‘You’ right on it I wonder if I got anything else this is so exciting like Christmas morning hey look a sniper rifle just like in Call of Duty what’s that it’s yours Monster Mime?!”

“His nom de plume is Monsieur Mime, Fred.”

“Yeah I knew that aw they don’t have an ice pick in here that would’ve been so cool don’t you think Cid even though I don’t use one anyway and what’s this it says ‘master skeleton key for vehicles and doors’ it says ‘Jacques’ on it—”

“Slow down, Fred. Not everyone present is acclimated to your rapid approach to information relaying.”

“Yeah! Fine! Whatever!”

“I get to drive whatever the fuck I want and go wherever the fuck I want? Now we’re talking!”

“You believe now is when the ‘suit up’ scene happens, followed by the dynamic team pose.”

“Kickass!”