Who were they? Did they raise you and teach you to loathe the sight of yourself? Did they eventually loathe you as well?
You mean to be kind. It is a strange thing, for one you do not know. Something in me calls to you, perhaps? Like calls to like, my beloved once said. You did not speak to me out of strategy, I am a piece removed from the board.
I am nothing, now.
You don't know this. Perhaps it is. Perhaps I drowned that boy and took joy in every second. Perhaps this is the destined outcome for something like me.
[ Homelander takes a while to respond. This stuff — it should be easy to say. It's not like any of it fucking matters. And yet— ]
scientists. corporate stooges. they tested the boundaries of my strength. told me i had to be the best. they must have hated me. no one would do what they did, otherwise.
the way people were talking about you. i don't know. some of the people i thought were supposed to care about me, they talked about me like that.
you're not nothing. you never will be.
[ (Or else I'm nothing, too.) ]
it doesn't matter to me. who cares if you enjoyed it? that's your right. no one with your strength is meant to be in a cage.
Perhaps they loved you. The two are very nearly the same thing, for people like me. Like us. You cannot create something wonderful and terrible and destructive without hating and loving it in equal measure. Does a craftsman hate or love the blade he hones?
[A philosophical line of query, the sort of thing Alia would gently indulge in from her warm, sunlit bedroom upstairs. She looks at the door she cannot pass, recalls where she is and sobers.]
People will always attribute death and violence to those who are different. Who they cannot understand. Unless the power is their own. My accusers ride dragons and determine my guilt with their dreams, yet my gifts are evidence of murder. Strange.
Ah. "Right, as the world goes, is only in question between equals in power, while the strong do what they can and the weak suffer what they must." Might makes right. You believe this, Homelander?
[ Perhaps they loved you. The hypothetical appeals to him — wouldn't it have been nice? To have been loved? They hadn't always been outright cruel. But then, the memory of being locked in an oven, set aflame, the room growing hotter and hotter and hotter as he screamed and cried in pain, and the possibility dispels itself. ]
maybe.
[ is all that he allows. They didn't, in so many words. ]
the strong survive, and the weak want to be strong. it doesn't matter whether i believe it or not. it's the truth. they can lock you up, here, because the house lets them. if we were in my world, or in yours, we could kill them all, and it'd hardly matter.
[Alia wonders, vaguely -- but she doesn't ask, doesn't pry further. It is his to share, if he wishes. The fact of his communication alone is strange, though not unwelcome. It's boring down here.
So she leaves it be, not wanting to drive him away.]
This is so. At home, I would not allow it a second thought. Yet I cannot act as I would, to protect those I care for, because this place does not allow me the same power. I have watered the sands with blood since I was a child. I am not afraid to shed it.
But I would have claimed it. I would have stood unflinching in my acts. And I would have done it for a reason, to avenge a slight or an injustice against my family. So if this house judges me guilty, it is for something I do not remember doing.
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no subject
You mean to be kind. It is a strange thing, for one you do not know. Something in me calls to you, perhaps? Like calls to like, my beloved once said. You did not speak to me out of strategy, I am a piece removed from the board.
I am nothing, now.
You don't know this. Perhaps it is. Perhaps I drowned that boy and took joy in every second. Perhaps this is the destined outcome for something like me.
no subject
scientists. corporate stooges.
they tested the boundaries of my strength. told me i had to be the best.
they must have hated me. no one would do what they did, otherwise.
the way people were talking about you. i don't know.
some of the people i thought were supposed to care about me, they talked about me like that.
you're not nothing. you never will be.
[ (Or else I'm nothing, too.) ]
it doesn't matter to me. who cares if you enjoyed it? that's your right.
no one with your strength is meant to be in a cage.
no subject
Like us.
You cannot create something wonderful and terrible and destructive without hating and loving it in equal measure. Does a craftsman hate or love the blade he hones?
[A philosophical line of query, the sort of thing Alia would gently indulge in from her warm, sunlit bedroom upstairs. She looks at the door she cannot pass, recalls where she is and sobers.]
People will always attribute death and violence to those who are different. Who they cannot understand.
Unless the power is their own. My accusers ride dragons and determine my guilt with their dreams, yet my gifts are evidence of murder. Strange.
Ah. "Right, as the world goes, is only in question between equals in power, while the strong do what they can and the weak suffer what they must."
Might makes right. You believe this, Homelander?
no subject
maybe.
[ is all that he allows. They didn't, in so many words. ]
the strong survive, and the weak want to be strong.
it doesn't matter whether i believe it or not. it's the truth.
they can lock you up, here, because the house lets them.
if we were in my world, or in yours, we could kill them all, and it'd hardly matter.
no subject
So she leaves it be, not wanting to drive him away.]
This is so. At home, I would not allow it a second thought.
Yet I cannot act as I would, to protect those I care for, because this place does not allow me the same power.
I have watered the sands with blood since I was a child.
I am not afraid to shed it.
But I would have claimed it. I would have stood unflinching in my acts.
And I would have done it for a reason, to avenge a slight or an injustice against my family.
So if this house judges me guilty, it is for something I do not remember doing.
no subject
the house’s crime is using you.
it’s using everyone.
they’ll figure that out, sooner or later.
no subject
This game is not over, Homelander.
You ought to protect your own, if you've any here.