Twenty-One: In Which There Are Memories

[myblimpisbigger]

[It's been quiet in the Wulfenbach household since the end of Mayfield's latest attempt at fucking with its citizenry. Klaus has been somewhat subdued, mostly because his attempt at turning around what he was sure was an experiment on Mayfield's part backfired spectacularly. He has learned nothing except that he's remarkably willing to do some very questionable things in the name of science -- something he already knew anyway. He feels frustrated and frankly, ashamed, and even waffles can't quite cheer him up.

Thinking that perhaps building something amusing and pointless in his workshop will help, he makes his way out to the garage. The door is open, and through it he sees... something that he doesn't normally see. By the mailbox there's a wooden crate, at least two feet tall and three feet wide. Upon further inspection, he finds that it's addressed to him.

Now, Klaus has had iffy luck at best with packages from the town, but at this point, he's far beyond caring. He grabs a hammer from his workshop and pries the crate open, only to find that it's filled completely with books. A quick glance at the title causes a momentary jolt: The Heterodyne Boys and their Pneumatic Oyster, The Heterodyne Boys and The Fifty-Foot Tall Chameleon of Muntzburg, The Heterodyne Boys and... and they're all these titles, every single one, gaudily illustrated, with bright gold typeface and the Heterodyne Boy's faces grinning up at him from each cover.

If nothing else, the illustrators could always get Bill and Barry's honest, jovial grins down perfectly.]

A; Action

[So, people of Mayfield, there is a man sitting in the driveway of 729 Anderson next to an open wooden crate full of books. He seems to have sat himself down right there to read, and likely isn't going anywhere -- you're perfectly welcome to come up and pester him, if you wish.]

B; Phone

A question, Mayfield -- what is a Hero? Is a Hero by nature nothing but an embodiment of all that is deemed 'right' and 'good' within the culture he serves, or is he perhaps something greater and more difficult to define? 

C; Phone: Waver Velvet

[Well, this is awkward. But he feels it must be done.]

Herr Velvet, I would like to discuss what happened.

If you're willing.

Comments

B

[riastrad-ridire.livejournal.com]

It's not as simple as all that. A hero isn't always an embodiment of all that's good in the world, though he might try to be. Even the best of heroes make mistakes and wrong turns, same as anyone else does.

So yeah, I'd say it's a little difficult to define.

[myblimpisbigger.livejournal.com]

That was my thought as well, though where I come from, that is hardly considered the case. It's good to know that I'm not the only one who came to such a conclusion. Seeing the world, and furthermore, seeing people in terms of black and white is a fundamentally flawed practice.

[riastrad-ridire.livejournal.com]

People are never black and white, unless things have seriously changed in this era. I've sen good and honorable men do stupid things, and complete bastards do the occasional good thing now and then.

Can't imagine a word where common opinon would be anything else.

[myblimpisbigger.livejournal.com]

Yes, well, you've never been to Europa. There's an interesting double-standard there, I've found; though everyone is, as you rightly suggest, neither black nor white, everyone is expected to be so and categorized accordingly. I suppose in a war-torn world it pays to have heroes to look up to that are not capable to the same atrocities as the men labeled villains.

You can imagine how difficult it is to rule a country with that sort of mindset.

[riastrad-ridire.livejournal.com]

...the hell kind of screwed-up system is that? Sure, the world's probably always going to need individuals that could be called 'heroes', but categorizing people is just absurd.

[myblimpisbigger.livejournal.com]

Mmm. My citizens would just love you. I'd like to see the ones in the smaller villages inevitably try to burn you as a witch. I imagine it would be amusing on all fronts.

[riastrad-ridire.livejournal.com]

Hah. They could sure as hell try.

[myblimpisbigger.livejournal.com]

Oh, they would. Minions, even without a Master, can be very determined when they find themselves in a mob. Why, about ten years ago there was a mob the size of a small city that marched halfway across the country before it realized it had forgotten who, exactly, it had set out to kill.

It was probably me, of course.