Butterflies Volume II

Chapter 44

Violet and Sage watched as Victoria walked off from an unfortunate conversation with Senator Calhoun. Violet chuckled, her distaste written all over her face as she hailed down a waiter for drinks. Wearing blue was about as subtle as a punch to the face, she had to expect them to relay their idiotic policies after agreeing to work with them. You can't complain about a food you cooked and put in your mouth, that was a product of your doing. Have some pride. Sage turned her gaze to her as Violet began her fifth champagne. If she was anyone else her excessive drinking would be concerning, but Violet was yet to feel the warmth in her throat.

"My ego is boosted, can I go now?" Violet took one of the puff pastry balls out of the tower behind her, purposely letting it fall over.

Sage looked back at it by the sound of it crashing over, smirking faintly, "when I was 11, my grandma was diagnosed with Stage 3 chronic lymphocytic leukemia. God... She had the biggest laugh, but she got so small so fast. She was bed-ridden. The doctors didn't care about saving some old ex-Black Panther and they told my parents there was nothing to be done. I stayed up the next three nights and discovered a cure. Presented my research to those satisfied fat crackers, they patted me on the head, said I was adorable and laughed at me. Grandma died screaming in pain."

The whole world underestimated her. But as Violet saw her, she was hidden amongst all the most important people in the room, and they had no idea she topped them all. She had everything Violet was needing, and was tempting her with skill Violet would never be able to match. She had all the answers, every truth. And it occurred to her how silly the world was for naming white man after white man the smartest people alive, when their privilege and egos would never have the answers she needed. If anyone knew how to save Billy Butcher, it would be her.

A waiter came over, two shot glasses on the tray. Sage took one and handed Violet the other, both of her hands now full of alcohol.

"I could cure cancer, reverse global warming, but what's the point?" She said, "humans are animals. And the lines at Voughtland are too long as it is."

She took her shot, not having the same comfortability with the liquor that Violet did. She could save the world, better than Violet or Homelander or any other Supe could. But instead, she was making it crumble to the ground. Letting fascists get power, letting Homelander take what he wanted, she was signing the world up for its end. And what should appear so selfish, refusing to save the world, made so much sense in Violet's brain. It was a sentiment that they shared, and how connected Violet felt talking to someone who actually understood her completely.

"Why are you telling me this?" She asked.

"Because you remember what it's like, being a little girl who no one fucking listens to," she answered, a sudden anger in her voice.

They stared at each other.

"And because fuck them all," she spat, "the only way women like us have ever gotten what we deserved... One hand in their pockets while the other slits their fucking throats."

It was clear Sage was talking more for herself than for the both of them, but her anger resonated with Violet. It shook, plundering her for the allyship Sage wanted. She was so clearly playing Homelander for a fool, but in that room only Violet saw it. And what a special place of belonging they shared, the smartest person and the most powerful person in the room, seemingly agreeing to let the world burn. If anyone could understand Sage's need to destroy it was Violet, and she was beginning to make sense of her disinterest in the common person. The common people, humans, had already destroyed the world, they were just giving it one last push to the end.

"Now... Do we have a deal?"

Violet took her shot, "Robert Singer's yours. Like you said, I don't care."