Chapter Forty-Seven – Gyms and Abstracts

Sam glanced up from her laptop to stare across the room. She did a quick headcount, something she’d become extremely proficient at in the last couple of weeks. One, two, three-four-five, six… and Teddy was over there so that made six heads for four little villains.

The girls were currently at one of the parks on the edge of Eauclaire, maybe ten minute’s walk away from the school campus. The park should have been filled with people, but it had gained a bad reputation as a place where university students hung out and harassed any of the teens or whatever that came here.

Now it was a little overgrown, and the gym equipment was dated. That all added up to create a space where no one actually came to hang out.

It probably helped that most kids she knew would rather spend the evening online than running around some rusty jungle gyms.

Sam stared at her screen again, then subtly shifted the screen over to some homework as she heard panting.

Emily ran by, breathing hard and covered in a sheen of sweat. She paused not too far from the picnic table that Sam had requisitioned for herself, grabbed some water from a bottle, downed half of it, then, with a pitiful groan, started running again.

Sam tabbed back to the document she had open before and re-read the last few lines. She had gone back to the top and was trying to work out her abstract.

Abstract

This is a confidential field study conducted to gain a better understanding on the psychological profiles, motivations, and personalities of a group of anonymous individuals engaged in villainous behaviour. This research’s goal is to create a psychodynamic profile on these villains while probing their mental states, beliefs, and the rationales for their actions.

Sam squinted at the screen. Was that too formal? Not formal enough? She needed anyone that read this to take it seriously from the get-go, because a lot of parts later on were far from serious.

Really, when she’d joined Emily’s little band of misfits, she expected things to be a lot more clear-cut.

They should have been. Emily herself was… a hot mess, psychologically, but her little sisters? Oh, they should have been treasure troves! Living people, made by and for a villainous power, with powers of their own.

They weren’t born normally, and shouldn’t have been in any way nurtured into being anything but their natural selves. At least, not initially.

The perfect example of what ‘powers’ considered villains.

The study of superhuman powers was still relatively new. There was probably millions of dollars of grant money just sitting there, waiting for someone to come along and pluck it away. Not to mention the clout.

Sam stilled her beating heart. Later, later.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard as she re-read more of her text. She had very few examples of similar work to draw on. A few papers had been published tailing after super heroes, but those tended to be… too clean. They’d barely made a splash in the world of psychology.

She expected that something a lot more raw would do the trick, and it might counteract some of the issues that came with having to be so secretive within her own reports. She couldn’t give away powers, weaknesses, or anything like that. Not only would it be a betrayal of Emily, but it would make it way too obvious that she was clout-chasing.

There was a nice, fine line to everything. But Sam was good at finding those.

Plus… she kinda liked the brats. Emily too. It had taken a while for them to grow on her, but now they felt like little nieces she’d never had.

Scrolling down a little, she stopped at a segment near the top of her report. Her methodology section was a mess and she was determined to work on it some other day.

Findings

Contradiction in Behavioural Expectations

One striking aspect that defies what the TITLE expected is the variance in archetypical villainous behaviours. The subjects have a set of moral standards that are, on paper, archetypically villainous. They have no respect for the authority of the government or law enforcement, they care mostly for their own in-group, they see no issues with theft, arson, or harming others, and they find the suffering of others to be amusing.

They find pride and joy in being as ‘evil’ as possible, and wish to dominate and control others, to be praised for their unkind deeds, and to be more powerful than any in their entourage.

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On the surface, these behaviours paint the subjects as purely villainous forces of evil.

Sam hummed to herself. Was she putting it on too thick? This was where she’d depart from what someone would expect to read, and no one, not even people that claimed to be scientists, liked it when what they read went against their preconceptions.

No, it was probably better to lay it on thick here.

She wiggled her fingers to make sure they were limber, then continued.

These villainous tendencies conflict with observed behaviours. If asked, most subjects would admit to being evil and villainous and quite cruel. If observed, the subjects will display actions that go contrary to that self-description.

They show affection and concern for each other’s well-being, worry about what others think of them, and are uncharacteristically loyal. Most of their actual, demonstrably villainous actions are simple actions taken because they don’t feel the need to fit into our wider society. These can be harmful–examples include petty theft, or what might be considered burglary, as well as making threats of physical violence–but more often than not, the subjects cause very little by means of actual harm.

In that regard, these villains are no more immoral than an unlearned child might be. They are free of the moral constraints and rules that someone raised in a civilised, modern society might adopt, while also holding onto other moral elements with more tenacity than would be expected of someone who was born and raised in that same society.

Sam leaned way back, stretching her arms over her head and cracking her knuckles. She had a couple of good lines in there, she thought. She’d need to pretty them up, though.

The conclusion she was slowly circling was kind of trite and boring. The kind of first-year sociology-major stuff that would have eyes rolling. She couldn’t quite think of another, better conclusion to draw towards, however.

Looking up, she saw the girls swinging from old rusty bars. Maple was the odd one out, but she was over by the sand-pit, building a… multi-floor sand-castle, with levering doors made of ripped apart soda bottles and what looked like a missile silo to one side.

It looked like it was still just in the sand-castle phase, so Sam decided to leave it be.

Emily herself was coming around from another circle of the park. She was even sweatier than usual, and looked like she was ready to faint.

“Having fun?” Sam asked as she tabbed out of her report.

“Yeeeagh,” Emily said. It wasn’t quite a word, but it still communicated a lot.

“Sounds like fun,” Sam said. She didn’t begrudge Emily’s recent exercise kick. It was probably good for the lanky girl to put on some muscle.

“Time of my life,” Emily said as she came to lean against the table. She took that water bottle and downed the rest, then she pressed a hand against her ribs. “Stitch,” she groaned.

“Give it a minute,” Sam said.

Emily wiped at her brow, then glared at nothing in particular. Sam liked to think that she was glaring at the concept of exercise itself. If Sam was ‘exercise’, she wouldn’t be very worried, though. Emily could be scary, but only in small amounts and usually at key moments. The rest of the time she was about as spooky as a wet towel.

‘It’s good for me,” Emily said like someone trying to convince themself. “And the exercise is good for them too.”

The girls were running around. Someone had stepped on Maple’s sand-base and now Maple was chasing them with… “Is that a knife?”

Emily’s head whipped around. “Maple! No knives! No, I don’t care that you made it yourself. Yes, Trinity probably deserves it, but no stabbing your sisters!” Emily bent down and pulled a second water bottle from her bag. She ripped the cap off and drank deep from it. “They’re going to be the end of me,” she said.

“They’re quite something,” Sam said.

“Yeah.”

“You ever wonder what they could become. You know, if things were different?” Sam probed.

“Different how?” Emily glanced at her.

“I don’t know. More… normal?” Sam tried.

Emily was quiet for a long moment, then she shook her head. “No. No, I don’t think I can imagine them as normal.” She set her bottle down on the picnic table, then took off running again.

Sam grinned. ‘Not normal’ was good, as far as she was concerned. It was more to write about.

***

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