#;r: miss you more than I should (Ｂａｒｏｎ Ｂａｔｔｌｅ)

[roastyoualive-archive]

How do you feel about Baron?

Ask my character “How do you feel about ______?” Can be an idea, person(s), place, or thing, and they’ll have to answer honestly. || Accepting

He sighs. Swallows. Hesitates before finally speaking.

“I don’t know.” He shakes his head, staring down at his hands. He’s tearing a napkin into tiny pieces, one at a time. Another moment of silence before he repeats himself. “I don’t know.” It’s pretty clear he’s uncomfortable with this conversation, but he doesn’t have much of a choice. 

“When I remember my dad, I don’t… I don’t remember Baron Battle.” He lights the napkin-shreds on fire with his index finger and watches it burn. “I didn’t really know about that. And he was never like that at home.” He stirs the little fire with his finger. Gathering his words, quieting his nerves. Has to keep talking. … Has never talked about this before. Has never wanted to.

“People always assume he hit us. I’ve had people say he ‘definitely’ did and that they can ‘tell’. That’s bullshit.” He scoffs and sits back, glowering out the window. “I haven’t even been in the same state as him for more than half my life, but they can tell he hit me?” He shakes his head. “He never did. Not once. Never yelled at me, or at Mom. I’ve been asked if I was afraid to be alone with him, and when I was little I thought that was such a dumb question. Why would I be afraid of my dad?” He swallows and draws a steadying breath through his nose. “And when they find out I wasn’t, they think it’s because he wanted me to follow in his footsteps. … I dunno if that’s true. Never asked.” He shrugs, but keeps his eyes away. 

“When I think back to him living with us, all I remember is that we were- Happy, I guess. I dunno. I remember he’d read to me, watch TV with me. Used to let me ride on his shoulders in that way kids do. He’d make dinner when he got home from work and ask me how pre-school went. … He was my dad.” He tucks his hands under his arms. (Grips tightly at the fabric of his shirt.) “… And I loved him.” He’s silent for a moment as the napkin-fire fizzles out. 

“But you probably know what happened and everyone knows what he did. And as I got older, like it or not, I got to hear all about it, and Mom and I got to deal with the aftermath. And now he’s in jail and everything’s gone to shit and there’s nothing I can do to fix any of it. Mom didn’t deserve any of it. And he had to know it was gonna happen. You don’t get to where he was and not know that people will do anything to stop you. He had to know, and he just didn’t care.” His shoulders are tense and his jaw is set, but the defiant resolution doesn’t reach his eyes, 

“And the things he did… Not to us, but, to the people he did hurt. I can’t… That stuff doesn’t go away just ‘cause he was a decent father. I wish it did, but it doesn’t. There’s enough blood on his hands to solve the donor crisis and everyone knows it. He’s not a good person. Some people call him a monster.” He shrugs and finally looks forward again. “Maybe they’re right.”

“He’s a monster, and he’s my dad. I should hate him, but I don’t. Maybe I should love him, but I don’t- I don’t know. I just don’t.”

[roastyoualive-archive]

Penny has died.

“…..has died.” finish it in my ask. || Accepting

… when turned fifty degrees past calibration, will result in a polari– 

Snap. Warren frowned down at the broken pencil lead. Ah, well. That’s what he had extras for. He grabbed one of the two spares from the corner of his workspace and resumed his note-taking. Every now and again, he’d glance up at the blackboard. While some people might question his teaching methods, nobody could say Medulla didn’t know what he was talking about. He was a supergenius, after all. 

He’d been in the middle of double-checking his spelling of the inventor of the first shrink ray (Russian phonics were different than any he’d worked with, before) when a knock on the door stopped the lecture. Warren only spared it the barest glance. 

“Yes?” Medulla sounded annoyed. Warren could relate, but decided to salvage the situation. As Medulla stepped outside to speak with whoever it was - offering a ‘one moment, class’ over his shoulder - Warren reached down to rummage through his bag. He’d scrounged together enough spare cash to buy a set of highlighters from the dollar store, so, depending on how long this took, he might be able to get a head start on colour-coding his notes–

“Mister Peace.” He looked up. People were looking at him, now. A glance to the side showed him Will quickly averting his eyes. As Warren sat up, he returned his own gaze to the door. Mr. Medulla stood with a decidedly unreadable expression on his face. Beside him was one of the office attendants. The, uh, the jumpy one, what was her name… Mrs. Springer. 

“… Yeah?” He said when the silence stretched. 

“You’re being requested at the office.” Warren rolled his eyes almost before Medulla had even finished speaking. Of course he was. He shot an irritated grimace at the desk as he pushed himself to stand, bracing his hands on the smooth wooden surface. 

“And, Mister Peace?” Medulla spoke again. Warren straightened with a huff of breath and an arched brow. 

“Yeah?” He repeated. Mrs, Springer shot an anxious glance to Medulla. Warren felt like he wasn’t supposed to notice, but he did. 

“You- Might want to bring your bag, dear.” She said it in the sort of tone you’d expect a grandmother to have. That didn’t make this any less of a headache. He was fluent in teacher, by now. That meant ‘don’t expect to come back, kid’. He shoved his book into his bag, briefly wondering who he’d have to ask to copy their notes. Probably Will. Speaking of- 

“What did you do?” He asked, voice barely over a whisper. Warren shrugged and shook his head, doing his best to convey ‘I don’t know!’ in a gesture. He hauled his bag up by one strap and walked through the silent classroom and out into the hall. As he passed, Mr. Medulla looked like he wanted to say something. Warren paused. A beat of silence, before Medulla shook his head and closed the door. As it clicked, Warren could faintly hear him returning to the lecture with an apology for the interruption. Damn. He hoped this wouldn’t be on the test - or maybe he could ask for a make-up lecture at lunch? … Probably not. Especially not if he was in trouble. Guess he could always check the library. 

The walk to the office was silent. So silent, in fact, he could hear his sneakers against the tiled floor just as well as her heels. Springer seemed more nervous than usual. She wouldn’t stop fiddling, either with her glasses, a stray piece of hair, or the manila folder of paperwork she seemed to have perpetually clutched to her chest. … She seemed scared. Of him? Did she honestly think he’d attack a teacher? (Or- secretary?) …. Scratch that. Baron Battle’s kid. Of course she’d think something like that, never mind the fact he’d never done that kind of thing in his life. (Thanks, Dad.) He decided to think about something else. Like what they could possibly be pinning on him, this time. He honestly had no idea. He hadn’t gotten into any fights, or even any arguments lately, didn’t make a headache of himself in class… Didn’t cheat on tests or plagiarize his work, and ever since sixth grade had made a point of keeping his rough drafts and research notes to prove it… Didn’t destroy any more property than normal in STC (and had not, thank you very much, set Boomer on fire again). Yeah, he had no idea. He figured he had to be getting blamed for someone else’s handiwork. Again. Whatever. The nice thing about having friends (or, one of the nice things) was that, hopefully, at least one of the others would be willing and able to vouch for his innocence. That should speed things along. Maybe he’d be able to catch the tail end of the lecture, after all. 

Springer opened the door for him, and he gave her a small nod of thanks. Received a watery, shaky smile in return. Geez, she looked like she was about to cry. Was she really that scared of him? They’d barely ever even spoken, before! It didn’t put him in the best mood as he stepped into the office. Principal Powers was at her desk. For some reason, she looked older than she had when he’d passed her in the hall, that morning. He wasn’t really sure why. Didn’t think about it long after he saw the person sitting beside her. A man, broad in the shoulders, in a formal black suit. Short hair, dark glasses, ear piece. A Fed, by the looks of it. It took a concentrated effort not to scowl. Had to be about Dad. Because, you know, a fifteen-year-old highschooler in California absolutely had control over what happened up at NAPSE. He’d handled this before. Just give him your statement, get your alibi verified, get back to class. Hopefully it wouldn’t take as long to process as it had, last time. The suit started to ask a question - ‘Are you–’ but clammed up as soon as he saw Warren’s face. Just nodded to himself in silent confirmation. Warren warily set his bag down by the door and crossed his arms over his chest, hovering by the door. 

“Uhm-” Mrs. Springer broke the silence. All three sets of eyes - Powers, Warren, and the Suit’s sunglasses - turned to her. She gulped, stared at the floor, and shut the door with a nervous laugh before scurrying off down the hall. Warren furrowed his brow. Sheesh, and he thought he was bad with social situations.

“Warren?” Principal Powers spoke, and he looked up. First names? Weird. “This,” she continued, gesturing to the suit, “is Mr. Stern, from the Agency’s head office.” Warren’s brows raised, and he blinked. The Agency? What the hell did they want? No Agent had tried to get in contact with the Peaces since Mom went inactive. Were they trying to hire her, again? To hire him? He wasn’t even licensed, yet. That couldn’t be it. … It looked like they were waiting for him to say something.

“Hey.” Warren greeted lamely. He kept studying the Agent, trying to get a read on him. No luck. Not surprising. 

“Would you take a seat, son?” The Agent - Stern - said, nodding to a chair opposite the desk. Warren glanced to the chair, leaning away to get a better look at it and swallowing a comment about how Stern wasn’t his dad. Probably better to not make this worse. Instead, he said nothing and did sit down, but kept his eyes on the two adults. This was so weird. It only got weirder when Stern reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a huge, white rectangle that almost reminded Warren of an overgrown bar of soap. He flicked a switch on the side, the box made a short whirring noise, and Powers gave the Agent what Warren thought would have been an exasperated look, if she’d had the energy. (Why was she so tired? Did the staff coffee machine break, or something?) She didn’t stop him, though. There was a brief moment when the air felt charged with static. It faded quickly enough, but not before piquing Warren’s curiosity. He wanted to reach over to the box and see what it was. He decided against doing so and kept his arms crossed, hands tucked in. Stared silently at Stern, waiting for an explanation. 

“Son,” Stern began again, shifting to a more comfortable position in his chair. Warren leaned back slightly in his. “I’m afraid I have some bad news.” A part of Warren very much wanted to be sarcastic. It was drowned out by the chill that raced down his spine. 

“… What kind of news?” He sat up slowly. His hands gripped the armrests of his chair a bit tighter than he realized. Stern sighed.

“It’s about your mother.” 

Warren felt the school rock beneath him. Mom?

“What…?” The air was suddenly too thick for him to get any other words out. In the corner of his eye, he could make out Powers standing up, but he was too focused on Stern to care. No, no, no no no….

“This afternoon, at 1:45 PM, your mother was on her way home from work.”

No.

(It was so cold.)

“… Am I correct to assume you’ve seen the news? About Voltage?”

No.

(Yes.) (He didn’t answer.)

“We have reason to believe that your mother intervened in one of their attacks.” 

No. 

(Please, no.)

(This wasn’t real.)

(Not Mom.)

“And…” Stern trailed off. Warren kept staring, unaware that he was shaking his head in silent denial. 

Please.

Stern sighed. 

“I’m so sorry, son.” 

Sorry?! What did that-?! He didn’t even remember standing up, but the chair that clattered to the ground behind him let him know that he must’ve. It wasn’t true. It wasn’t. It was some sick joke, some sort of- Some- It wasn’t-! It couldn’t be, not Mom-! 

“You’re lying!” He wasn’t aware of the break in his voice. He was aware that there was no fire in his hands. Tried again. Nothing. Powers and Stern were standing now. If he’d been more coherent, he might have realized his lack of abilities came from that box. But he wasn’t thinking about that. Only about getting the truth out of Stern. 

To the Agent’s credit, he didn’t flinch when Warren shoved him against the wall. Didn’t fight back, didn’t struggle, didn’t even react aside from re-adjusting his glasses when they got knocked askew. 

“Where is she?!” Warren demanded, yanking on fistfuls of Stern’s jacket collar. “Where’s my mom?!” His vision blurred. It had to be from adrenaline, right? Not from how much he was crying. (’Boys aren’t supposed to cry, Warren’ a voice from first grade whispered.)

“Diana.” Stern held up a cautioning hand over Warren’s shoulder. Warren glanced back - Powers. It looked like she’d been reaching out to them. He exhaled a shaky breath, then roughly dropped Stern and took a step back. His lungs drew in air at a ragged, irregular rate and he sniffed but didn’t wipe his eyes. Only stared, hands still flexed against the humming white box, as the Agent calmly dusted himself off.

(’It’s okay, sweetheart.’ Said a voice he’d never hear again. ‘Everything’s gonna be okay. We still have each other, right?’)

Wrong.

He tried another gulp of air and failed. Squeezed his eyes shut, His voice sounded so small when he spoke.

“Where’es my mom…?” A hand on his shoulder. Warren flinched back. Stern was in front of him, looking down through impassive glasses.

He didn’t even care.

“Come with me.” 

…

He felt numb. 

They’d taken him off in an Agency aircraft. They’d sent someone to collect his things and he hadn’t said a word since they’d left the office, only clung to himself desperately like it might offer some form of comfort and it didn’t. (She was gone. She was gone she was gone why was she gone?) They’d landed in a secure location and he’d asked if they were going to a hospital but Stern had said there’d be no point. No point? Nobody would even tell him what happened. What did ‘no point’ mean? Sure, hospitals were expensive, but- But he would’ve given the shirt off his back if it meant she was okay. He’d have spent every day for the rest of his life at work, he’d cut down on food, he’d- He’d take a page from Dad’s book and rob a bank, anything as long as she’d be around at the end of the day, but- But there was no point. He should’ve been there. He should’ve saved her. He should’ve died, instead. She’d always been there for him. She’d done everything for him, and he couldn’t do one damn thing for her. Walking home from work, they’d said. She wouldn’t have needed that job if he hadn’t been around. She wouldn’t have lost her old one if she hadn’t needed to take care of him. It was his fault she was dead. It was his fault he lost the only person who ever really gave a damn. His mom was gone because of him.

“We’ve contacted your next of kin,” Agent Stern said. Warren numbly looked up from the chair he was in. At some point, someone must’ve put a blanket around his shoulders. He didn’t remember it getting there. “Your uncle has agreed to take you in.” The gentleness sounded alien and forced in the Agent’s voice. A thought broke through the grief:

I have an uncle?

Warren didn’t say anything, though. Only stared.

“Nicholas Peace?” Stern said, as though expecting that to jog some memory. “Your mother’s brother?” 

Mom had a brother?

Had. Past-tense. Mom had a brother. Just like Warren had a mom. Where had this ‘uncle’ been for the past forever? Why was he stepping in now? A man came into the room behind Stern. Neatly combed brown hair, blue eyes, a suit that looked like it cost more than Warren’s entire apartment. Dress code aside, he looked a lot like Mom. Warren’s chest constricted painfully and he looked away. Swallowed a lump in his throat that might’ve been a sob if he let it. Mom was gone. His mom was gone and it was his fault and now he was being shoved off on someone who wouldn’t want anything to do with the kid who killed his sister. Warren wouldn’t want anything to do with himself, either. He just wanted everything to stop.

The funeral was small and quiet. The sun was shining, and Warren, from where he stood alone, idly thought that Mom would’ve liked it. She’d loved the sun. The marble headstone could’ve covered the Peaces’ food budget for a month, easily. A simple epitaph graced its surface. 

Penelope Anne Peace

October 12, 1972 - November 4, 2005

Beloved mother, sister, friend. 

What a joke, Warren thought bitterly. He stared silently at the freshly-turned earth, blinking against tears that had long since been spent. Nobody else had come. Just him, and his… Uncle. Cousin and Aunt, too, but they were doing a poor job of disguising how bored they were. How dare they. How dare the three of them make light of this-? Mom deserved so much better. She deserved a better family than them and a better son than him and better friends than the ones who couldn’t be bothered to make an appearance. Not here, and not when they cleaned the apartment. Nicholas had sent people to do it, but Warren had insisted on being there. Had made sure to gather every single item of importance himself. … It had always seemed like such a cramped space, before. But now- It felt huge. It felt empty. It felt cold. It felt lonely. It was a feeling that followed him no matter where he went. 

Not school, though. Mainly because he didn’t go back. Not the next day. Not the day after that. (He couldn’t take it, any more.)

(Sorry, Mom.)

“Hey, guys!” Will said, weaving his way through the cafeteria to their usual table.

“Hey, man!” Zach reached up a hand for a high-five, and Will obliged, making sure not to drop his tray. He slid into a seat between Ethan and Layla. 

“How’d the history test go?” Layla asked, popping a kale chip into her mouth. Will shrugged.

“I think I passed?” He offered. “I mean, I did study, and I think I did well, but-” He glanced around, looking for a change of subject (the last thing he wanted to do was stress even more about that test. He’d been worrying all week). “So, uh- Has anyone seen Warren? I’ve still got his science notes from the last few classes, and…” The table went silent. Will looked around. “What?” Everyone seemed to be staring at their food. Layla put a hand on his arm.

“Will…” She began. Will frowned. 

“Yeah…?” It was Magenta who answered. (She’d heard the news, first.)

“… His mom died.” She said, putting her fork down. Will felt the colour drain from his face.

“Wh-? Oh, my god…”

That was the first piece of news that would reach Sky High regarding the disappearance of Warren Peace. 

The second fact was that the lavish estate of Nicholas Peace, practicing attorney, had burned to the ground completely. Thankfully, no casualties had yet been discovered, but a few of the staff were suffering serious injuries.

Next, the student body learned that, some time ago, Baron Battle had escaped from NAPSE, leaving a trail of immolated corpses and chaos in his wake before apparently vanishing off of the face of the Earth. Nobody knew how he’d gotten out. Nobody knew where he’d gone.

All they knew was that, wherever he was,

it looked as though he’d taken his son with him. 

[roastyoualive-archive]

@elskett sent an ask that wouldn’t publish for some reason so, here you go, Kai~! Send a 🙌 and I’ll introduce you to an NPC related to my Muse. || Accepting

This means any minor ‘background character’ in my Muse’s life, such as a relative, coworker, friend, rival, etc. that they interact with in their personal canon.

NAME: Baron Battle

ALIAS(ES): Barry Jules Burnham (Alter ego, before marrying Penelope Peace/Monsoon), Barry Jules Peace (Alter ego, after marrying Penelope Peace), Matteo Julius Marcantonio (Birth name, informally changed during high school, legally changed at age 18), Mattie (Childhood nickname, by Danielle Marcantonio), M&M (Childhood nickname, by Claire/Bloodhound), ‘B’ (By Saul/Scout), Boss (By Lester/Leech, among others), Boss-man (By Niles/Memento, among others), Dear (By Constance/Demonita), Baron Barbecue (By Penelope Peace, in her freshman year; Later by Lyn/Viper), [Teddy] Bear (by Penelope Peace, after entering into their relationship), Dad (By Warren Peace), #164209-S (Confinement number, by various researchers, jailers, and psychologists), [the] Bloody Red Baron (the Maxville Star Tribune), The Baron (by many people), Baron Fucking Battle (by many people, including himself), ‘Barron Battle’ (Sky High yearbook, on certain photos), “Brandon K” (Used by psychologist Dr. Marnie McDougal, M.D., as an alias in There Is No Wonderland Here: Understanding the Criminally Insane, Broadriver University Publishing, Inc., Maxville, CA, 2003), Ashton ‘Ash’ Nobles (Used as an alias while in Europe).

PORTRAYED BY: Daniel di Tomasso (Singing voice performed by Ramin Karimloo)

POWER(S) AND ABILITIES (IF ANY): Pyrokinesis/Pyromancy (largely regarded as the most powerful pyrokinetic in modern history, if not all time), invulnerability, enhanced strength; Fluent in English, Italian, ASL, and French. Speaks conversational Spanish and Cantonese. Following incarceration, knows a handful of assorted insults and a few basic phrases in Russian. Skilled engineer and inventor. Photographic memory. Highly skilled in unarmed combat. Talented and very much interested in musical theater. Highly manipulative, seen by many as charismatic. Owns at least one mug which proclaims him the world’s #1 dad. Can, in fact, drive a standard transmission (but not an automatic). Makes a good omelette.

AGE: 35

D/O/B: December 20th

ETHNICITY: Italian

GENDER/PRONOUNS: Cis male; He/him/his

ORIENTATION: He’s never put much thought into it. Considers himself straight, but might be somewhere on the ace/aro spectrum. He’s not sure. Doesn’t care enough to do the required introspection.

EMPLOYMENT STATUS: Currently incarcerated; Formerly, salesman at AutoWorld North; Prior to that, intern at Hermes Corp. Unofficially, infamous supervillain, founder and leader of the Battalion, smuggler, arms dealer.

CURRENTLY LIVES: Northern Alaska Penitentiary for the Supernaturally Enabled, Solitary confinement wing, floor 6, cell 6-382 C.

PAST RESIDENCE(S): Maxville, California.

ALLEGIANCE: Penny and Warren Peace, himself, the Battalion (in order from most to least prioritized)

ALIGNMENT: A healthy mix of chaotic and neutral evil, with a splash of chaotic neutral for flavour. Nobody really has it figured out.

RELATION TO WARREN: Father.

DESCRIPTION: Matteo Julius Marcantonio (known later in life as ‘Baron Battle’) is the only child of businessman Mercurio Raffael “Mercury” Marcantonio/”Heatwave” and Danielle Gisella Marcantonio (nee Damiani). Mercury sat at the head of Hermes Corp., a massive shipping company started by his grandfather (Baron’s great grandfather) Luciano Marcantonio. This meant that Matteo/Baron grew up wealthy, and wanted for nothing, materially. ‘Too expensive’ didn’t appear to be a phrase in his family’s vocabulary. It wasn’t a terrible childhood. People assume that, to turn out the way he did, he must have been beaten, but he wasn’t. They think his parents must have somehow mistreated him, but they didn’t. If forced to describe them, Baron would to refer to his parents as ‘relatively decent, and terribly boring’. None of them (Baron/Matteo, Mercury, and Danielle) were surprised when his powers came in (roughly at around age 5-6). Mercury was a pyrokinetic, too, and a superhero. Great-grandfather Luciano had been a pyro, as well. It ran in the family. Matteo was, of course, fascinated by this. All of his free time was henceforth devoted to experimenting with his powers, focusing on them to see what he could do. And he had a lot of free time. School was fairly easy for him; he attended a private school called the Simon Blackford Academy for Boys (’the Blackford Academy’, for short). He didn’t really have an established ‘group’ there. Sure, he had people who considered him a friend, he would be invited to birthday parties, or to hang out sometimes, and he could move between circles easily enough, but there was nobody that he really considered a friend. They were all just people, and they were all just there. And at home, there were even fewer distractions. Danielle and Mercury were running a business, after all. It wasn’t that they were terribly neglectful on purpose, they were just busy. They made an effort to speak with him when they had a moment, and let him know he could always come find them if he needed anything. He had the numbers for their office phones if he needed them and they were out. He generally didn’t call. The only other presence in the house came in the form of hired help, most of whom were quite happy to leave their young charge to his own devices, as long as he didn’t get hurt and they got paid. And, if he sits in his room quietly the whole time? That makes their job easier. He would occasionally be checked on by a woman named Claire Abatescianni. A super herself, which was why Mercury trusted her to watch his son without ousting Matteo/Baron’s powers. Claire’s power was a superhuman sense of smell. If you couldn’t guess, she’d had a hard time finding employment as a sidekick. Though Claire never said anything, Baron was pretty sure she only took the job of his ‘babysitter’ to get in good with his father in hopes of getting hired for something more exciting. She always seemed far too cheery to be there. Yes, yay, he’s still in his room, gosh, how thrilling. The older he got, the more irritating it got. He was quite glad when his parents decided he was old enough for a lock on his door (age 12). Aside from the help, his only companion was the radio in his room. He found that he very much did like music. It filled the silence, and the radio hadn’t been paid to like him. He found himself singing along to it while he went about his day. Reading, scribbling in his notebook, straightening out his things, honing and experimenting with his powers… Even walking the halls of the family home, he’d probably be humming to himself. It was something to do, at least, and he did enjoy it. Again, he didn’t resent his parents for being busy. He didn’t resent the help for doing their jobs. He, frankly, didn’t care enough for resentment. He also didn’t know any different. As far as he’d ever known, the day you spent time with your family was Sunday, and the place you spent time with them was in church. Yes, the infamous Baron Battle was raised Catholic. Most people are surprised by that. Mercury was the most devout of all of them, but Danielle was close behind. So, Baron went to church at least once a week, every week, and listened to preachers and priests lecture him about an all-powerful god. This got him thinking. According to the priests and the bible, God made all things. God was, supposedly, infallible. If these two things were true, it meant that God had intended to give Baron and all other supers their powers, which, by extension, meant that God intended them to be above ‘normal’ people, to be better than them. The very term ‘super human’ meant ‘above or beyond human’, and most people, Baron knew, could not shoot fire out of their hands at will. So, that, by definition and by will of God, meant that the average person was beneath Baron in the same way average people were beneath saints and angels and the Lord Himself. On the other hand, if it wasn’t true? If God wasn’t an all-powerful creator, wasn’t infallible, or maybe didn’t even exist? Well, then, why should Baron be beholden to His rules? He should be able to do whatever he wants. He did mention this to his parents, once, and never made that mistake again. Mercury told his son that thinking he was better than most of the planet was Pride and therefore a sin, and thinking about God in such a way was heresy and even worse, and you had better be in confessional next time they stopped by the church to talk to a priest, Matteo, before it gets any worse. Baron, who had just turned fourteen at the time, decided three things in that moment. Firstly, he decided that God was clearly not infallible, as He had definitely made some mistakes when He was making Mercury. Secondly, Baron realized that he had no intention of changing his way of thinking, priest or no, without a tangible reason to do so. Lastly, if God really was powerful enough to send souls to Hell, and if these thoughts would condemn him on their own, what reason did Baron have to try and earn salvation? He’d burn anyways, why not have fun with it? (And the irony of Hell supposedly being a place of fire and brimstone, and himself being able to conjure fire from nothing, was not lost on him.) But again, he didn’t say anything to his parents. He had better things to do than listen to lectures from them. -> Baron had discovered his love of theatrics while he was going to Blackford. There were school plays, and there were readings of classics the students would have to do out loud. Baron thought it was great fun, and his parents were thrilled. Finally, something that caught his interest. Finally, something got him out of the house and socializing without it being like some kind of chore. The drama department at the academy definitely saw a generous donation or two from Hermes Corp. Baron made himself involved with every production the school hosted during his tenure there. Like most, he started out with minor or supporting roles. Towards his later years in the academy, he gradually became used to landing the lead. There were a number of cast and crew photos and handmade commemorative t-shirts stored away in his childhood bedroom. He loved everything about it. Dressing up differently, stepping into another persona, being on stage… It was fun.And, in a way, it helped him connect with people. Or, rather, it helped people connect with him. He decided that he liked the other theater kids, well enough. He couldn’t put on the productions without them. And the drama teacher (Mr. Daryl Gunn) was quite pleased with his star students, and, as many teachers are known to do, tended to let them get away with more than he should. So Baron liked the drama part of school. And yet, as flashy as some productions might be, Baron couldn’t really show off. No powers in public. That was something Mercury always said. Baron argued against it, of course. Don’t show off his powers, dad? Why not? What, are the unpowered masses going to call the fire department on him? Ooh, he’s so scared. … Still, Baron understood the logic. He didn’t like it, but he understood. So, he played along, for the most part. No powers in public. It was stifling, though. Suffocating. Fire is a hungry, chaotic, screaming element to keep contained. It doesn’t belong in a cage. Not being able to use his powers outside was one of the reasons he stayed home so often. So, when he got the letter to attend Sky High, he was actually glad to go. Not surprised, though. Mercury had gone to Sky High, and he’d always said that Matteo would go to his alma matter, too. His son was going to be just like him. Baron took one look at his father, who he thought was boring, simple-minded, and quite frankly uninspired, and decided that, no, he wasn’t going to be like his dad. He wasn’t going to sit in an office all day signing business deals; He wasn’t going to be content living what was to him an ordinary life; And he certainly wasn’t going to be a hero. … But, more on that particular hangup as we go. 

-> So, Baron attended Sky High. He had to admit, he’d never had a bus ride quite like that, before. He’d nearly thought he’d discover whether or not God was real much sooner than he’d anticipated. But, no, he was fine. According to power placement, he was more than fine. He was a hero. Or- Hero class, at least. (He learned very early on that the school didn’t really care whether you used your powers for ‘good’ or not.) At first, he was satisfied by this. Yes, he was wonderful, thanks for noticing. But then he got to thinking. On one hand, the social system of the school was laughably easy to exploit, when you were a Hero. On the other, there was so much potential going to waste. Sure, other powers weren’t quite as destructive or immense or- Powerful, for lack of a better word, as his own, but they were still powers. Everyone in the school was still ‘super human’, and we all know how Baron interpreted that word. And there were so many applications for how the powers of his fellow classmates could be used. The fact that there even was a ‘Most Useless Superpower’ award in the yearbook only went to show him that the administration at Sky High was useless. As you’ve probably figured out, Baron always had a problem with authority. This did not help. He could be quoted later as saying “There is no such thing as useless superpowers; only a superhuman lack of creativity”. This is a philosophy he would abide by for the rest of his life. It helped him accomplish two things. First, it increased his motivations to analyze and study superpowers, though no longer limited just to his own. Secondly, it helped him realize that sidekicks - especially upper years, who’d been beaten down by years of being told how worthless they were, or graduates, like Claire - were very easy to persuade to do things. This would later help him in founding the Battalion, but, for now, was just a useful little tidbit to know. Not like Baron had any trouble finding his place in the school, mind. He was smart, he was rich, he was descended from another well-known super, he was a Hero student. He wasn’t a jock, but he was pretty high up on the food chain all the same - especially for the arts kids. He had a decent group of people he usually hung around with. He wasn’t particularly attached to any of them, but, it was all well and good. They filled his lunch table and gave him people to talk to. It gave him an excuse to get out of the house, too. He didn’t mind it. It was better than hanging out with the radio, at least. And, since a good amount of his friends were other theater kids, they at least got his references, and he got theirs.  And, whenever it came time to get ready for school plays, they could do line readings together to get ready for auditions and performances. When not in school or at home, you could usually find him at some cafe or another with members of his entourage. Or, you could find him at work. In order to teach their son responsibility, Mercury and Danielle had given ‘Mattie’ an internship at Hermes Corp. It was pretty standard faire. A way to get spending money, at least. A way to learn how a business was run. Useful skills, to be sure, but not very interesting, and it took time away from his research. Back when he was in Blackford, one of the science teachers - Mr. Trent Connery - impressed upon his class that the key to any proper experiment was to write things down. So Baron had taken to writing down his work on his powers. He had to admit, it made a difference. And he would much rather be doing that than sorting files for his parents. With his school now populated exclusively by supers, and home being- Well, home, work was the only place he couldn’t use his powers. It was like a prison. A very dull prison. Mercury didn’t seem to notice. He told his son that, one day, he’d be the one sitting at this desk. Mercury understood it as saying ‘one day, you’ll be wealthy and successful, too’. Baron saw it as ‘one day, you’ll be stuck at this desk, slaving away over paperwork and forced to act as an average human being for the rest of your life, too’. So he decided it was about time to work on distancing himself from the whole thing. It was little things, at first. Flirting with the other interns, growing his hair out, staying out late. That irked his father. But what really got to Mercury was when, after speaking to some of his old friends who had stuck around to teach at Sky High, he had learned that his son almost exclusively played the role of the villain in Save the Citizen. That infuriated Mercury. His son, a villain? No, no, that wasn’t happening. What was so appealing about it, anyways? Baron’s answer was that being a villain was more fun. He had better reasons than that. Heroes had rules they had to follow, villains did not. Heroes had to answer to the public, villains did not. Above all, heroes had to wait for villains to show up before they could do anything, whereas villains could act at any time they felt like. He’d thought through it, of course, as he thought through most things, but he didn’t tell his father. ‘It’s more fun’ would get a better reaction. Mercury was very upset about this. He couldn’t raise a villain! Matteo, that’s not what our powers are for! Baron responded to this by switching from almost always requesting to play on the Villains team to exclusively playing as a villain. It really was fun, and he found his powers were quite well suited for it. The rule book had to be changed a few times because of him, but that was something he was proud of. It was during one of these rule-changing matches where he met his future wife, and one of the only positive influences he ever took to heart: Penelope Anne Peace. ‘Penny’, to her friends, of which Baron didn’t initially consider himself to be one. -> He didn’t know her at all, in fact. She was a freshman, he was a junior. (And yes, if you’re wondering, this was after he got The Perm. It was a hassle to maintain and got in the way of things, but the looks on his parents’ faces made it worth it.) More importantly, she was what society would consider a good person, and he was not. She hadn’t been at Sky High for very long - it was the start of the year - and, being in different years, they had no classes together aside from the very much mixed Phys Ed, so he’d never really had any reason to notice her, nor she him. Baron had been called up to the ring, along with Lyn “The Lioness” van Rueben (later, Lynda Shale/’Viper’), a fellow villain who generated and manipulated various poisons and toxins. Baron had met and befriended Saul within their first year of high school (you can read more of that in Saul’s bio, linked way up at the top), and they’d been sitting together in the bleachers. When the two of them realized that Lyn and Baron had been chosen by Coach Pacer to phase in some freshies, the boys thought it would be hilarious. Baron had even muttered a ‘this’ll be good’ to Saul as he left. He and Lyn weren’t friends, not exactly. They each essentially headed off two different groups. But, they had devastated the STC ring enough times together that they knew how the other operated, and knew how to work with it to make the most damage. A wink from Lyn. A smirk from Baron. The freshies looking very excited and determined. The buzzer sounded. The citizen went up in flames. The rope broke instantly. Lyn thought this was funny, and Baron was proud of himself. Penny called a foul as soon as she processed what had just happened. Pacer had to stop the match and climb down to deal with a group of bickering super-teens. Penny’s argument was that that was unfair, and gave them no chance to react. Baron’s counterpoints were that villains weren’t supposed to play fair, and that if he’d gone through all this trouble to let the citizen die, he wanted to see them die, and wouldn’t bother with a timer in the first place. Lyn took his side, for once. Penny, who was still learning to control her powers and was very frustrated with ‘Baron Barbecue’, made a sweeping gesture with one hand, and accidentally sicked a massive gust of wind and torrent of water on Baron that not only lifted him off his feet, but hurled him through one of the walls. Lyn thought this was hysterical. Penny, for her part, freaked out, thinking she had just killed one of her classmates on her first time participating in gym class. Baron, being invulnerable, was fine, though he was still blinking dust out of his eyes when Saul hauled him to his feet and asked if he was okay. Baron wasn’t really listening, though. He wouldn’t be able to say why, exactly, though he would later be able to write paragraphs on the subject, but he was relatively certain he had just fallen in love with Penny Peace. He said as much, too, quietly and somewhat dazedly. Nobody heard him but Saul, who assumed Baron must have a concussion, and dragged him off to the nurse. Baron snapped out of his stupor and insisted he was fine, flung a few threats around, but ultimately let himself be carted off. He didn’t feel like rejoining gym class, and this was the perfect excuse. -> Of course, the nurses didn’t find anything wrong with him. Though, when Penny came in to check on him, and Baron actually apologized, they were certain they had to have missed something. It was just hugely out of character. He offered to buy her lunch, she apologized and explained she brought one form home, but did say she’d see him later. He considered the fact that she left with a smile on her face a victory. He left before the nurse could look him over again. He liked science class too much to want to miss it. -> Courting her was an effort in and of itself, but one he considered worth it. A lot of running into her in the hall or the cafeteria and making idle small talk working up to the point where she’d approach him first, and then where they’d eat at each others’ tables with increasing frequency. Eventually, it became a daily thing. More often than not, he’d be eating at ‘her’ table rather than his, since he didn’t really care about spending time with the people there. Penny was the one he was interested in, and was quite literally the first person he had ever genuinely cared about, outside of himself. Saul went where Baron went, and since he was decent enough and went along with Baron’s antics, Barry didn’t mind. So Saul and Baron became a part of Penny’s friend group. It took him until nearly the end of her first year to convince her to go out with him, but convince her, he did. It was a fairly simple date. They went out on a Sunday (Baron had stopped going to church with his parents) and went to a park for a walk and to feed ducks. He took her for lunch at a small local restaurant, and she showed him her favourite arcade. They played skeeball and Space Invaders and Baron pooled their tickets together to get Penny one of those over-priced stuffed animals that always seem to be behind prize counters. He walked her home, and carried her the last few steps to her door when he noticed her limping from a blister; She teased him about how gentlemanly it was. He put her down right as Nicholas, Penny’s older brother, opened the door. Penny kissed Baron on the cheek and went inside. It was only as he was walking away, and glanced over his shoulder at the Peace house that Baron realized something that struck him as odd. ... He’d never been happy before. Sure, there were things that he derived satisfaction or pleasure from - getting a good role in a play, good music, fresh coffee, Save the Citizen, attention, burning things, the simple joys - but he’d never been HAPPY. He was fairly certain that that’s what this was. It sounded cliche and corny, even to him, but he wasn’t going to question it. Just enjoy it while it lasted. And last it did. The interesting thing about not really forming emotional attachments is, if you ever actually do make one, you don’t tend to have many commitments to get in the way. As mentioned earlier, Baron had stopped going to church entirely. He’d been thinking for a while about the relationship of God and supers. If God did exist, at any point in time, Baron thought, and if He really could do half the things people said that He could, then, perhaps He was simply a very powerful super, Himself. As Baron grew more powerful, through natural aging and through his own training and experiments, he found it a waste of time to devote his life to worshiping someone who was very quickly becoming his equal (his own thoughts, nearly verbatim). Mercury was very much considering hiring either a therapist or an exorcist to pay his son a visit. Something had to be done about ‘Matteo’. It wasn’t like Mercury got much of a chance to talk to him about it, though. When Baron was home, he locked himself in his room. More and more often, he would be out with his school friends, or spending time with Penny. Danielle said they should be grateful that he was socializing of his own volition; Mercury wasn’t so sure. But, yes, for better or worse, Baron was socializing. He and Penny spent a lot of time together, enjoying the high that comes with a new relationship. It was towards September (before they went back to school) that she finally confided in him about the problems she had with her father. Though he did conceal it well at the time, Baron was furious. Here was this wonderful, lovely, and as far as he was concerned, perfect girl, and she was being hurt. Hurt by someone who by societal decree was meant to take care of her. And the man hurting her was going unpunished. More than that, he was wealthy and well-known, revered by his colleagues in the medical field. Where were all the self-righteous heroes? Why was nothing being done about this? What, they can take down giant monsters, but not monsters who looked like model citizens? ... Before this, Baron had wanted to be a villain because heroes were boring and too bound by rules to be worthwhile. Those reasons still applied, but now, heroes were also inefficient. The more he looked into it, the more he saw the problems with the world that went largely ignored by ‘superheroes’. The government was corrupt. So many crimes went unpunished. The world was broken and cancerous and needed to be fixed. Heroes either couldn’t or wouldn’t fix it. What kind of boyfriend (and later, husband and father) would he be if he let his girlfriend (and later, wife and son) live in a world that was so cruel to her? To everyone? No, he had to change things. Like an overgrown forest, burn down the old to make way for the new. He wasn’t a villain for kicks, any more. He was a villain who thought his cause righteous, and that is a dangerous thing. -> He was also a villain who was still in high school. Even if he had his delusions of grandeur set, he did want to graduate. So, he attended classes. Still spent time with his school group, and, of course, Penny. He joined her closest friends in convincing her to move out of her parents’ house and live with her grandfather, instead. Baron had personally met Penny’s father only once, and did not like him at all; Penny’s grandfather, Peter, was- Passable. Nothing special, but nothing bad. And she seemed happier with him, which was all that mattered to Baron. He studied for exams, just like everyone else. He’d have a table at the library with a few of his crowd, where they’d compare notes or otherwise sit in silence, reading. He and Penny went to Homecoming together. When the drama department announced the school musical, Oklahoma, Baron, of course, jumped on the chance to act in it. He’d always be a theater kid at heart. He went up against a few people for the lead, but none of them would ever prove to be nearly as impactful on his life as one Steve Stronghold. Neither of them really knew it at the time. All Baron knew was that Steve looked especially miffed at not getting the lead, and Baron himself felt quite smug to be the star. He found out relatively quickly he could get a smile out of Penny with renditions of ‘Oh What A Beautiful Mornin’’, and he absolutely abused this fact whenever he could. Out of a mix of spite and pride, Baron began referring to Steve by the nickname ‘Understudy’, which never really went away. He thought the play went well. Another cast photo to go on his wall. His parents went to the opening night, and though he basked in their praise it didn’t do anything to change his opinions of them. Penny went on the first and last nights, Saul went on the first and second (it ran for five days, standard school week), and the theater kids Baron had often surrounded himself went to at least one performance, assuming they weren’t in the play already. Baron quite enjoyed the full-page feature in the yearbook, and the interview for it. Attention was always something he loved. When friends asked him to sign their yearbooks at the end, instead of signing on the back page like everyone else, he’d sign on the shot of himself in costume. Flourish the letters and everything. Nobody was all that surprised. He invited Penny to his year’s prom. She agreed... On the condition that he finally get a hair cut. He would admit to being taken aback by this; He’d had the perm for so long, he’d gotten used to it. So, he said nothing, only thought about it for a moment, nodded, and climbed on the bus to go home. He wouldn’t know until later that Penny had been sure he was upset with her. He hadn’t really been thinking about that, at the time (and he’d kick himself for it later). He was only thinking about what style to try this time. He went out, got his hair cut much shorter and straightened. His parents were very pleased; They thought he might finally be growing up. Until, that is, Baron looked them dead in the face and told them that he’d done it ‘to impress girls’. Mercury didn’t know why he was surprised, but- At least that was a ‘normal teenage boy’ reason for doing things, so he didn’t complain much. And it was a nice haircut. Penny also thought it was nice. Most people who’d been standing next to her at the time would tell you she looked about ready to faint. Baron was satisfied with this reaction, and considered it a victory when she finally agreed to let him take her to prom. He and Saul borrowed Saul’s uncle’s plane for the trip, and were quite pleased with themselves for it. Though it was the first one he’d been to, Baron thought it was a good prom. He and Penny were practically joined at the hip for the entire event. There was decent enough music, decent food, and some joking toasts made to their time at Sky High. At some point, as usually happens at proms, someone spiked the punch, and Baron was fortunate to notice the taste before he’d had more than a sip or two; He joined the rest of the student body in trying to speculate who was the most likely culprit. The top contenders were Troy Barker, Madison Terry, and Coach Pacer. Baron never found out who did it, but he didn’t really care. He got Penny home safely at the end of the night, and then went home while Saul returned the plane to its original location. They got in trouble for the stunt the next day. They were too pleased to worry about the consequences. Besides, they were graduating by the end of the week! What could the school even do to them, anyways? (The answer, of course, was nothing. Which is precisely why Saul and Baron did the exact same thing when Penny invited them to her year’s prom, two years later.) -> Following graduation, Baron moved into the newest student residence at the University of California, Berkely (UCB), where he studied mechanical, aeronatuical, and manufacturing engineering. He’d gotten a decent scholarship to help him out, but his parents were more than happy to cover the finances. It was a good school, he’d worked hard to get there, and, hey. An engineer would do well in the company, so, even if ‘Matteo’ didn’t have any interest in running the family business, they could at least get him a position (and convince him to change his mind later on, perhaps?). Engineering was interesting. Very different from Mad Science class, though - nobody got shot by lasers at UCB. At least, not intentionally, and not the same kind of lasers. He’d still go back to Maxville when he could. Weekends, usually, to visit Penny and some of the high school friends he kept around. He preferred them to people from UCB because his high school friends were all fellow supers, so he could use powers around them. He preferred his university classmates because they could talk about engineering as much as they wanted without causing confusion. As soon as he’d finished moving into his dorm and got settled in, he set about getting his name legally changed. A lot of people he’d gone to school with didn’t actually know his birth name, and he hadn’t introduced himself to anyone at the university as ‘Matteo Marcantonio’, so it wasn’t very difficult. He never really told his parents, either. Part of the whole thing was to distance himself from them, but, also, he just didn’t think it was any of their business. He was an adult. He could make his own choices. -> University kept him pretty busy. As in all of his endeavors, he was determined to succeed. Moreover, he was determined to surpass as many people as he could. If you asked about it, he’d tell you it was, in part, a pride thing. (Most things with him were a pride thing.) So, most of his early ventures into real-world villainy took place over holiday. Small things, at first. Robberies in banks out of Maxville, forging a few documents here and there, that sort of thing. Done outside of his eventually trademark armour, because although Baron lives for attention and acclaim, he’d decided he wasn’t quite ready for the world to know his name. ... That, and he didn’t want it to interfere with his proposal. -> He and Penny had been dating for about four years by this point. She was finishing high school and debating future plans, he was getting ready for his third year of study. While Baron had left most religious ceremonies - and societal laws and customs as a whole - by the wayside, he did think marriage was important. Moreover, he worried if he didn’t ask, somebody else would. So, he called Saul and told him at, if Penny were to call looking where he is, to say he was studying for an assignment, because he wouldn’t be around to answer the phone, since he was going ring shopping. Okay, Saul said, he understood. Barry’s ‘studying’. What neither of them knew was that Penny had found out that she was pregnant a day or so before, and had been working up the courage to call Baron and let him know. So, she called his dorm a few times, then Saul, when she didn’t get an answer (Saul wasn’t in university at the time, but most people who knew the two of them knew that Saul was usually an accessory to Baron’s schemes). Saul, for his part, stuck to the story. Barry’s got a project due, and you know how focused he is, Pen. Hasn’t been answering my calls, either. Okay, she said, she’d try again later. (Baron, of course, was not studying; he was at the second or third jewelry store he’d been to so far. He was being very particular about the ring. It had to be perfect.) So, she called again later (she was getting increasingly nervous) and caught Saul right as he was heading out to pick Baron up (he was going to drive him back down to Maxville to surprise is soon-to-be fiancee). As he wasn’t really paying attention, he’d mentioned off-handedly that he’d let Barry know Penny called when he ‘pulled up’. Why did he need a car if he was studying, Penny asked. Shit, Saul thought. He flubbed something about Baron having gone to a library for a study guide and hung up pretty quickly after that. He decided not to mention this to Baron. Saul drove them back to Maxville that night, and Baron crashed on his couch (as they had both been too tired after the drive to bother getting proper accommodations). He showed up on Penny’s doorstep the next morning, asked her grandfather to speak with her, and simply explained that classes had been cancelled that morning when she asked what he was doing there (they had been, and he refuses to take the blame for it, though it may have been entirely his fault). She was, as he’d hoped, very surprised to see him. He took her out for the day. They went to a park, then out to lunch, then to the arcade they went to on their first date. They spent all of the tickets they won on candy and a handful of cheap plastic rings. They were walking along the coast on the edge of town, and Baron was just about to say that he’d gotten another ring for her when she blurted that she had something she needed to tell him. He said that he needed to tell her something, too. She told him to go first, so he did, and of course she said yes. He was thrilled, though the moment was admittedly sullied when she exclaimed “so THAT’S what Saul was picking you up from!”. But, she was too happy and the moment was too important for him to care about it for too long. After the (initial) high had died down, he asked what her news was. That’s when he found out he was going to be a father. It took him a moment or two to process it, and, yes, he was surprised. He’d always known it was a possibility, sure, but still. He wasn’t used to being caught off-guard. It took a moment for his brain to reboot, and after that, he was excited. Flustered and excited. A father! Him! They were going to have a family! And he- He... He had no idea how to raise a child. But, he wasn’t going to let that stop him. He dropped out of university the next day, and Saul once again helped him move furniture - out of his dorm, this time. His parents weren’t happy. They thought he was throwing his life away. He thought it was bold of them to assume he gave a damn what they thought and promptly cut all ties with the two of them. He had a new family, now, and one he liked so much better than the old one. He got a job at a local used car dealership, and, though he hated it, he had to admit that he was decent at it, it brought in money, let him be much closer to home, and left plenty of free time for other activities. But what really brought in the money was his- Personal endeavors. It was about this time that he really started developing and finalizing his eventually trademark armor. He and Saul also worked on upgrading their hideout to be a bit bigger. He had plans. As overconfident as Baron may have been, he was well aware those plans would require help. Even Alexander the Great had an army, after all. There would be many ‘lesser’ villains and even some non-supers who would join the Battalion (as they grew to call themselves), but most weren’t all that important, in the grand scheme of things. Some of them would end up dying. They came and went. He didn’t start seriously recruiting until after Warren was born. -> Baron was, of course, present when his son came to the world. He was thankful for his invulnerability, as, otherwise, he thought Penny might’ve broken his hand. He didn’t complain, though. He knew he had it easy by comparison. He’d be lying, though, if he said he wasn’t internally panicking - it was a grueling few hours. On August 18, 1990, at 3:42 in the afternoon, Warren Edward Peace was born. The doctors held him first, of course, then Penny, and then Baron. To see him at that moment, you’d have no idea he’d become one of the most ruthless and feared villains in recent history. (”One of the worst,” as the Commander would later describe him.) There was no visible trace of ‘that’ Baron in the hospital room. You’d only have seen a tiny, squirmy new baby, an exhausted new mother, and a new father who was visibly enamored with the both of them. He had his family, now. And he was going to give them the world. -> It’s not easy balancing supering with parenthood. Especially not when your significant other is also a super. Baron had his self-assigned purpose, and he was determined to see it through, so he had to do some serious scheduling. A lot of passing off jobs to the best-suited underlings. By comparison, acting, engineering, and everything else he’d done in his life was simple. But this was his son. He wouldn’t give him up for anything. After a while, Penny went back to work (her aunt had helped her get a job in a psychologist’s office) and Warren was old enough for a sitter while his parents were away. That made things easier. Warren was about three years old - Baron was 23 - when Baron and Saul forcibly took over one of the smaller smuggling rings they’d caught wind of. ‘The Corneli Syndicate’, they’d called themselves. Most of them weren’t too happy with these newcomers, so it was a pretty bloody skirmish. Baron didn’t kill all of them, though. He left a few alive. The most important of the survivors was a young man named Thomas Wilfred Monroe - ‘Tom’, ‘Tommy’, or ‘Monroe’ to his friends. He’d originally been brought into the gang as a drug mule, until his superpowers were brought to light. Tom is a walking pocket dimension. He was invaluable to their operation. To prevent him from squealing, his former bosses had mutilated his tongue. (Later, people would assume Baron had done this. Tom would always scoff at this with a “Barry? Yeah, righ’ ”.) He could still say some things, but ‘S’, ‘T’, ‘N’, ‘TH’, ‘Z’, ‘D’, ‘CH’, ‘SH’, ‘X’ - those were off the table for him. To combat this, he usually carried around a pad and pen. Yes, he knew ASL (had gone out of his way to learn it), but not many other people did. Baron quickly decided the method of writing everything down took way too long and was frustrating, so he dragged Saul off to the first sign language course he could find. From that point on, it became a well-known rule that if you’re in Baron’s personal vanguard - one of his ‘favourites’ - you have to know how to sign. No ifs, ands, or buts. Baron found Tom’s presence made so many things so much easier. Metal detectors no longer mattered. Security searches were a joke. Even the size and weight of things he wanted to steal no longer mattered (to an extent). This meant that the Battalion quickly got a lot of money through nefarious means, but nobody could figure out how they did it. With the increase of success and wealth, word spread quickly in the network of villains, and Baron became even more of a cult figure than he’d originally been. It soon became a trend for those hoping to earn his respect or prove their loyalty to burn the letter ‘B’ somewhere onto their body - usually the back of the neck, behind their ear, on their chest, or the inside of their wrist. Baron, for the record, hated this. Not because he was worried for their well-being; he didn’t care about that. No, he hated it because, if one of those idiots got killed, or worse, caught, it could link them directly back to him. There was a difference between his deliberately showing off or making an appearance during a crime, and someone screwing up and blowing his cover. He did what he could to put a stop to this. Incinerated a few of the more vocal supporters. But, he was never able to get people to stop entirely. The act of ‘branding’ oneself rose to prominence again, oddly enough, after Baron was arrested. Rumors still survive that Baron himself would do the branding, once you passed the Battalion’s initiation, but this is, of course, false. -> With the increased notoriety came an increase in people trying to put a stop to him. There were many would-be heroes going up against Baron, but one of particular note was a young man named Anthony Atwood. Officially, he’d been known as Surge. He’d been graced with supernatural reflexes and agility, as well as the ability to channel kinetic energy. ... He had not been graced with supernatural fire resistance. A fun fact about this fight is that, prior to it, Baron’s armor did not feature a cape. The singed, tattered, and torn cape Baron would later be seen sporting was a trophy from his victory against Surge, which he kept due to a self-proclaimed ‘mixture of sentiment and vanity’. He had to admit, it did look great, and it had such wonderful memories attached to it. -> On the opposite end of Baron’s life were Warren and Penny. Warren, by this time, had already begun to show his powers. Baron was beyond proud. A pyro, just like him - and developing his abilities so early on! He was over the moon. Yes, it did complicate things to have a toddler who could spontaneously combust. Fortunately, both Baron and Penny’s powers were suited to deal with this before it became too dangerous of a problem (though it did make finding sitters a bit difficult). Baron was already looking forwards to sharing all he’d learned about pyrokinesis/pyromancy with his boy. He arranged to have the garage lined with concrete, and have some proper ventilation installed, so they could have a safe place to explore what Warren could do. Penny thought this was a great idea. She wasn’t surprised, f course, but she was glad Baron took to Warren’s powers so well. There was no way she’d let her little boy grow up the way she had. Also, a place for Warren to let off steam without singing the new carpet? Yes, please. She and Baron had been married for about three years, now. (It had been a small ceremony, at a local church. A handful of close friends. Penny’s grandfather and great aunt, and nobody from Baron’s family, though Mercury and Danielle did send a wedding gift which arrived a day late.) Some people had their doubts about the relationship. Baron knew this - a lot of them weren’t very subtle. He didn’t care, though. As far as he was aware, they were happy. Warren was getting ready to start pre-school. He was a bit nervous about school. Baron and Penny were a bit nervous about sending their flammable child out into the world. Baron was sure he could get a man or two into the school system to mitigate any potential damages that may arise. Penny told him this was kind of extreme, and she was sure things would be fine (though she may have considered taking him up on the offer). Instead, they had a series of talks with little War about the right time to use his powers, and how it was a big secret and he couldn’t tell anyone at school. They drilled it into his head like they drilled in stranger danger. Baron had, by this point in his life, memorized the Mr. Rogers theme song, and could probably recite a number of children’s stories by rote from all of the nights spent reading Warren to sleep. He knew about how low he had to stoop down to catch Warren when he tackled Baron after work (the height changed based on jumping variables). He knew Penny’s favourite baseball team (the Maxville Meteors), and bought her tickets to one of their games for their anniversary. He’d never understood the sport, himself - he was more of a soccer fan - but she enjoyed herself, and that made it worth it, to him. Warren was left at home for the game, with Saul, and Penny’s sidekick, Millie, keeping a close eye on him. Baron didn’t mention this to Penny, but he absolutely had some of his more doggedly loyal henchmen wandering the neighborhood on standby, just in case. He was sure she’d say it was ‘excessive’, but, he was allowed to be worried about their son, right? That’s what good parents did. And every moment spent being a parent, being a husband, stirred conflict in his chest. If he would ever meet his match, what would happen to them? What would happen to him if he lost them? It wasn’t that he had lost sight of his cause. He knew exactly what he was fighting for. He was fighting for mornings spent singing along to the radio with Penny while they made breakfasts, for summers spent at the city fair with Warren on his shoulders, for nights spent with his wife in his arms and his son against his chest and winters spent building snowmen and warming up with cocoa and crackling fires, and he was fighting for a world that deserved his family. It wasn’t that he’d suddenly grown a more functional conscience, either. He didn’t regret killing Surge or any of the other heroes who stood in his way. He didn’t regret wiping out other villains who had challenged his authority or posed a threat to him and his. He didn’t regret any count of theft, or smuggling, or arson, or any of the other countless charges he could’ve accumulated, if he got caught. Why should he? But there were doubts beginning to form. At the time, he thought the solution was simple. Become the most powerful superbeing the world has ever known. Powerful politically, powerful financially, powerful martially, powerful in terms of his own abilities. If he could do that, then, what would he have to worry about? What would his family have to worry about? That would solve everything. (Right?) -> He didn’t let on about any of these doubts, though. That would be weakness, which was intolerable in the villain community. He would be lax around Saul, since they’d known each other since high school. And, of course, the higher in the ranks you were in the Battalion, the nicer a boss he seemed. Sure, they all knew he’d kill them if it fit his purposes, but so would any villain, and at least he wasn’t a jerk while you were alive. And he paid well. But being superficially charming wasn’t weakness. Winning loyalty amicably wasn’t vulnerability. And giving people a reason to follow your every beck and call wasn’t airing your anxieties. Hell, he didn’t even know that’s what they were, at first. He’d never had much reason for introspection, before, and especially not since high school. He was Baron Battle, after all. Undefeated, widely feared, already terrifically powerful, basically a cult icon in and of himself, and he had been unwavering and sure in his goal to burn the world to the ground ever since that summer night when Penny had sobbed into his chest that she was afraid to go home at the end of the day. The world was still broken, still corrupt, and he still had work to do. And, hell, it was fun and it was liberating to be his villain self. A persona bound by no rules but his own, beholden to no gods nor kings nor laws of nature. And he was good at it. So, what was this, all of a sudden? He didn’t know, and, as stated before, he kept it to himself, but it always stayed in the back of his mind. Perhaps, then, that’s why he decided to launch his first major foray into politics across the ocean, far away from Maxville, just in case. He’d told his underlings that he was taking a ‘select few’ of them (read: Saul and Thomas, mostly) to England because there was someone there he’d ‘had his eye on’ for a while. While not a complete lie, this would hardly have been a good enough reason for Baron to leave all on its own. He could find patsies and proxies anywhere; they were a dime a dozen. But, this was an experiment, so he wanted to conduct it away from home, to be safe. Why England? He’d just watched 101 Dalmatians with Warren the night before he decided to do this. That, and a while back he’d seen a documentary about some Italian artifacts that were being held in a British museum. Why not be a bit patriotic, bring them back home? ... Or, back to the Barracks, if he liked them enough? Besides, the England election was sooner than the American one, and he didn’t want to wait for too much longer. So, it just made sense to him. So, he packed up some equipment and his men, told his family it was a ‘business trip’ (he’d worked his way up the corporate chain of the dealership, so this wasn't too far-fetched) and that he’d be back soon, and packed off to England. A few noteworthy things happened there. Firstly, he did end of raiding a museum or two. Most of the things he stole did find their way back to Italy (with help from Thomas Monroe, of course), though he did take back a few vases and an old sword or two for the Barracks (also with Thomas’ help). He was challenged by a handful of local supers, too. The first was a flier, Courtnie Smith/Peregrine (KIA). Then came Declan O’Dare/Anvil, who controlled metal (KIA). Travis Porter/Warpdrive, who could teleport (KIA). Ava Hart/Lady Luck, an empath (KIA). Jack Miller/Top Dog, super strength and the ability to eat literally anything (KIA). Most of these fights occurred during his ‘trips’ to the museum, but, once word spread that there was a supervillain afoot, superheroes would flock to try and put him down. The very last one, Kevin Masters/Mr. Amazing (KIA; from what Baron could tell, his power seemed to involve being very good at jumping) had actually managed to tack Baron down to where he was staying, and picked a fight in the middle of Baron packing to go home. That had been annoying. Of course, they weren’t the only supers Baron met during his trip. He just so happened to run into Lester ‘Les’ Lowinski (’Leech’, later on; a siphon who could absorb and redistribute pain and injury) while prowling the darker parts of Liverpool to meet with a contact. Lester was a down-and-out former factory worker who’d found himself rendered obsolete by the ‘miracle’ of innovation, and, y’know what? Tearing the country apart sounded like a damn good time. So he joined the Battalion - rather informally, but nobody cared. Saul didn’t like him at first, but Thomas, with a bit of translation help, seemed to get along with Lester fine, and set about helping him with the whole ‘learning sign language’ rule. Lester would go on to become one of Baron’s chief interrogators. He earned his stripes during the political sabotage Baron engaged in. While Baron’s chosen candidate didn’t technically win, enough politicians and people of interest had been compelled to ‘see things his way’ that he didn’t care. As far as he was concerned, he’d still gotten control of the government, and that’s what he’d set out to do. He’d learned a thing or two which he thought could help, should he decide to replicate the experiment elsewhere. Having felt he’d spent enough time away from home, Baron returned to Maxville, joined by Saul, Thomas, and Lester. It was good to be home. -> Warren was six years old when Baron finally figured out what the nagging doubts were. More and more often, he found his mind wandering away from the war table. It was hard to focus on taking over the world when he kept wondering how Warren was doing at school, or whether Penny was having a good day at work. Perhaps it was that villainy was no longer as much of a challenge as it had once been, that he was growing bored, or perhaps it was that he’d simply come to terms with the fact that he valued his family more than his infamy. Either way, he decided that he was ready to retire. Not completely, of course; he’d always want to operate from the shadows. Kept things interesting, and kept money coming in (And Penny had been talking about going back to school to get a degree, so he wanted to make sure that stayed a possibility). But he thought he was done with all the flashy, take-over-the-world business. He had more than enough power to protect his family, and it had gotten boring. He’d much rather be spending time at home. Perhaps he’d go back to it, someday, but for now, he was done. He told as much to Saul, Lester, and Thomas, who still remained his three favourite subordinates. He also told them what he planned to do about it. Just saying he was retiring and stepping down would be dangerous. He didn’t want people to come looking for him. No, it would be much more effective - not to mention more fun - to oh, say, fake his own death on national television. (He’d always had a flare for the dramatic, after all.) So, he worked out a plan to stage a public assassination attempt on the president, have a small-time hero show up (they had a few in mind), fake his downfall, and escape. Maybe take Warren and Penny on a vacation after, to be safe with the illusion. (Besides, Warren’s birthday was coming up, so he could play the vacation off as a present for his son. And his retirement, well- That’d be a present for all three of them.) It had all been going flawlessly. Baron briefly toyed with the idea of actually killing the president and instating himself, and whether or not he could convince Penny to go along with that-- -> And then the Commander appeared. -> He hadn’t planned for that. He’d been planning on someone... Lower on the ranking list. But he could make this work.He could figure it out. Tar Steve’s flawless moral reputation with a murder in the process. That’d be fun, right? ... It didn’t work out that way. The exhaustion in his voice was just as alien to him as the concept of actually losing when he spoke. He was Baron Battle. He didn’t lose. He just didn’t. Except, apparently, he had. He told Steve not to take off his mask (’Don’t do that to my son, Stronghold’), and in the same breath swore to kill him. (He might not have known how, at the time, but he was sure he could figure it out, given enough time. And soon, time would be the only thing he had.) The day before his son’s seventh birthday, Baron Battle was sentenced to a quadruple life sentence at the Northern Alaska Penitentiary for the Supernaturally Enabled. No chance of parole until his third life. In short, he was never getting out. But if he ever did, he thought to himself, he was going to reduce the Commander to a pile of ash. Steve had taken EVERYTHING from him. His power. His fame. His freedom. Most importantly of all, his family. As far as Baron was concerned, Steve Stronghold was the reason he would never see Warren or Penny again. Steve Stronghold was the reason his son would grow up without a father. If not for the power-negating properties of the room he was in, that thought alone would have made the entire courthouse burn to the ground. -> It’s been eight years since that day. Eight years of solitary confinement. Eight years of having been deemed criminally insane, and too dangerous to mix even with the other inmates. His only contact, outside of the letters he’s been permitted to exchange with Warren and Penny, has been with jailers (particularly, one Warden Maxim Stanislav Magnus, a former super known as ‘Ghostwall’ with a personal grudge against Baron) and the facility’s psychologists. Antisocial Personality Disorder, they say. An extreme case. So textbook and so painfully stereotypical they’d almost think he was faking it, if he wasn’t who he was. The one thing that they can’t explain away in that diagnosis is his relationship with his family. Long-term, committed, and by all accounts, mutually happy and beneficial. That didn’t fit the bill for APD. Baron disagrees with the diagnosis, but of course nobody cares. It’s this discrepancy that’s made him such a fascinating subject for so many psychologists in the know. It’s also what’s stopped him from trying to break out. Does he think he could do it? Oh, probably. It might even be fun. But he worries what his freedom might mean for his family. ... Even so, it’s been eight years. The urge to see his son growing up, hear his wife’s voice, hold his family in his arms and melt Steve’s eyes from their sockets has been growing every day, and it’s getting hard to ignore. And he swears, if he has to put up with one more chunk of ‘bread’ so stale you need to drown it just so it’s edible, he’s going to kill a man. -> Maybe a few of them.

THEME SONG: From Now On - Ramin Karimloo | Confrontation - Anthony Warlow | Let ‘Em Burn - Nothing More

QUOTE:

Barry: I’ve raised armies to my beck and call. I’ve killed people who were supposed to be invincible. I almost took over the world on a whim, people the world over fainted at the sound of my name. But nothing I’ve ever done has made me as proud as being your father. Warren: (Avoiding eye contact) Even if I’m not a villain like you? Barry: What? No- You don’t have to be a villain. I’m not making that choice for you. Warren: I don’t? Barry: Of course, not. You’re old enough to figure out what you want for yourself. If you want to be a villain, great, wonderful. I’ll do whatever I can to help you. If you want to be a hero, I’m sure your mom will be happy to teach you the ropes. Or, hell, you could do neither if you wanted. Be a chef, be a psychologist, be whatever you want. But no matter what you do- I know you’ll be wonderful. Warren: ... Barry: You’re something special, Warren. Really special. And, I know- I’m your dad, I’m supposed to say that. But I mean it. You’re going to make a mark on this world, son, and I’m sorry I wasn’t there to see you start off on it. But I’m here to watch you burn, now, and I promise you right now, that’s not going to change again. I’m not leaving. Warren: (sniff) Yeah. Barry: ... Alright, come here. Before you make me cry. Warren: .. Barry: ... When did you get so tall? I guess we-- I, have a lot of time to make up for. Eight years really does make all the difference. Warren: Yeah. I- ... Yeah. Barry: It’s okay, Warren. Everything’s going to be okay, now. Saul: What’s the plan, Baron? Baron: Well, call me old-fashioned... Thomas: Yeah? Baron: I’m just going to kill him, and make him watch. Has the security been disabled? Saul: Locks and alarms, yeah. Vault and I are just finishing up on the cameras. Baron: Leave them on. Let Ms. LaFrance see this, too. She needs to learn what happens when people make things difficult.

[roastyoualive-archive]

BARON BATTLE WAS A GOOD DAD WHO LOVED HIS SON. ... He just- also happened to be an omnicidal megalomaniac.

Discord got real, real fast

[roastyoualive-archive]

Good things about Barry getting out of Jail:

Warren gets a dad (and related meaningful conversations)

Pen can quit one of her jobs 

Warren can cut down his work hours to something more reasonable

PEN CAN GO TO SCHOOL AND GET HER DEGREE FINALLY

Financial stability

College fund

Nicer house

D o g

Bad things about Barry getting out of Jail:

Literally the entire super community is skeeved as heck

Can and will threaten to burn the entire high school to the ground if his boy is not treated better

Dad jokes

[roastyoualive-archive]

Give me the dirt!

Send “Give me the dirt!” and I’ll provide a piece of gossip/a rumor about my muse! It may be true or it may be wildly outlandish! || Accepting

“I heard he still talks to his dad, and Baron Battle’s training him to take over where he left off.”

True or False?: BOTH. Warren and Baron do, in fact, regularly exchange letters. They’re screened by the wardens, and some of the psychologists at NAPSE think it’s a positive influence on the both of them. However, Baron’s not grooming Warren into following his footsteps. Baron was actually on the cusp of retirement when he got arrested, so he doesn’t see the point in it. If Warren decides he wants to be a villain, Baron would gladly find a way to mentor him; if he wants to be a hero, Penny could handle that front; And, if Warren decides to forego supering altogether, Baron is sure he’d excel at civilian life, too, and he’s told Warren as much. Given that Warren has no idea what he wants to do with his life (beyond a psychology degree, but that’s an unrealistic daydream, at this point), he hasn’t taken Baron up on the offer, yet. Maybe someday.

[roastyoualive-archive]

Dear Santa

Send ‘Dear __________’ for Warren to write that person a letter || Accepting

Dear Santa,

Mom says it’s too early to write you letters. But I know what I want this year, so I thought if I asked early, maybe you could make it happen sooner? It doesn’t have to be for Christmas. Mom also says it’s not nice to ask for presents early, but if I only ask for one thing, is that okay? I don’t want anything else. 

I was going to ask for a new soccer ball and a sled, but I don’t want those any more. Instead can you bring my dad home? Mom says he had to go away for a long time and it’s been a very long time already, so can he come back now? I miss him and so does Mom. Thank you Santa.

Love,

Warren Peace

Age 7

Maxville California