singularity
closed starter with @fxckingjoke
Smartest man on the cinder.
The words rattled around in Adrian Veidt’s mind as the rest of their not-so-merry band filtered out of the abruptly truncated meeting, the smell of the burning map and Comedian’s cigar still hanging in the air. Rorschach grumbled something in his rasping undertones to Niteowl, who responded in a consoling tone, a gentle touch upon the shorter man’s shoulder. Dr. Jonathan Osterman left not as he had come, not immediately at least, walking out with Miss Slater, a hand on her lower back. It won’t last, Veidt thought to himself, having observed a minute exchange of looks between the blue entity—he could hardly be called a human anymore; the first Superhero, in fact, would have been more appropriate or perhaps ubermensch, if one did not want to mince words—and the young Silk Spectre, Laurie Jupiter.
Ozymandias would not admit “defeat” per se, simply adjust, adopt a new strategy, if not a new philosophy entirely. Eddie Blake could be said to be many things, but a fool was not one of them, not if one was wise, not if one was observant. Veidt was, at the very least, the latter; the former came with acknowledgment of that which he had observed and thence, its practical application.
Very little escaped his notice, in fact, and he made his own exodus, he caught sight of Blake conversing with the young Laurie. Blue eyes narrowed as he focused a little more attention on them. The exchange between Sally Jupiter and Blake was… heated, to say the least, but only from her end. Yet more puzzle pieces fitted themselves together in Veidt’s mind and he nodded minutely. He spoke only when Laurie moved off.
“She has your mouth.” The comment was neither malicious nor complimentary; it, like everything else, was an observation—albeit a calculated one in this case, but just that. He knew Blake would take it in his own direction, as he did everything else—fool he was not, but impulsive, perhaps—and chided himself internally for this petty desire to “have the last word”, such that it was. I should thank him, he thought absently, for clearing my mind. Instead, I antagonize.
But the Comedian wouldn’t have taken gratitude in any way Ozymandias could have borne for long.
