“Chastity belts.” Multifarious volunteered as a non sequitur.

The sudden change of topic, especially to something so intimate, made Oz feel uncomfortable for some reason. “I’m… I’m sorry?” He stammered. It made him think things. He wasn’t even sure what it was making him think, but there were definite thoughts in there which he shouldn’t be having.

“They never actually existed, did you know that?” Multifarious asked.

“Someone just thought them up one day in the nineteenth century and told people that women used to wear metal underwear which was padlocked by their husbands, because the person thought it would piss people off. And it does. So now, millions of people all over the world get to imagine that chastity belts once existed, and they can get angry over this strange and entirely fake idea that some random sex-starved Victorian asshole dreamt up one day.”

“Okay.” Oz had no reply to that. He wasn’t entirely certain he was supposed to have a reply to that, actually.

“And that’s fine.” Multifarious continued.

“But you need to understand that none of that matters. Let them get pissed off if that’s what they want, but trying to understand other people is a waste of time.

” Multifarious pointed at Oz’s chest. “The next time you do something wrong or someone gets angry with you, instead of apologizing, I want you to look them right in the eye and say ‘Fuck you!’”

“I don’t think that’s really necessary.” Oz shook his head. “Getting angry never makes things better. I’d rather just take responsibility for the…”

Multifarious waved off that idea before Oz could finish. “Watch, it’s easy.” Mull stood up suddenly and deliberately bumped into another one of the people at the bar.

The woman stumbled to the side. “Oh, I’m sorry….” The woman began.

“ Fuck you, lady! ” Multifarious yelled into her face.

****

Ten minutes later, the woman had finally stopped crying and her boyfriend’s unconscious form was being dragged from the scene by the bar’s bouncer.

But Oz and Multifarious were now sitting at a different table, since Mull had put the boyfriend’s head through the last one, shattering the wood.

Oz simply stared at his masked companion, waiting.

Mull cleared his/her throat awkwardly. “Okay… I’m not going to lie: that was an aberrant reaction, which spiraled out of control fairly quickly. But you understand what I mean, right?”

“I understand that you just assaulted a civilian, which is sure to get you called out on the news again.”

Mull waved a disinterested hand. “Oh, fuck the news too. You gotta break free of all that shit, Oz. Free your mind.”

“Uh-huh. I’ll bear that in mind, thank you.”

“That shit from Braveheart, where landlords get to rape brides on their wedding day? Primae noctis? ” Multifarious shook his/her head in certainty.

“Nope. No evidence of that either. It’s complete bullshit designed by later generations to piss people off and give them a fake belief that things are getting better.

But things aren’t getting better: it sucked then and it sucks now.

And no matter how many bullshit fake horrors we pretend to triumph over… ”

“Well, we stopped smallpox.” Oz observed calmly, not bothering to hide the amused sarcasm from his voice. “That was pretty cool.”

Mull continued like he/she never even heard him. “…or how many meaningless achievements we celebrate, it’ll go right on sucking. ”

“I think we should just focus on the matter at hand…” Oz began.

“People will find shit to be outraged over, man. I’m telling you.” Mull reiterated, like a closing argument. “They like hating things. If they don’t have something, they’ll invent it, and then they’ll never shut up about it. Trying to appease them is pointless.”

“And how does this relate to assaulting that woman?”

“Oh, fuck her too.” Mull flipped a disinterested hand. “She overreacted. She really should have tried harder to deescalate the situation.”

“How can you ‘deescalate’ a super-powered stranger randomly assaulting you and then knocking your boyfriend out cold?”

“She shoulda found a way.” Mull said simply, sounding put-upon and helpless to alter reality. He/she held up his/her hands, as if blamelessly washing them of the whole situation. “All I’m saying.”

He absently went back to surveying the bar, looking for possible threats and making a mental note of everything.

Oz was in the habit of gathering as much information about things as he could, even if it was ultimately meaningless.

It was another one of his compulsions. He had to do it.

He didn’t want to. It was just something his mind told him had to be done.

He looked up at the ceiling, silently counting the acoustic tiles.

Mull followed his line of sight. “…The fuck are you doing?”

“This room has 35 ceiling tiles.” He reported, eyes returning to his partner.

Mull was used to his compulsions and didn’t bother asking why he would be counting them in the first place. “You sure?” Mull asked, sounding doubtful. “ Completely sure? What if you missed one…?”

Oz thought about it for a moment, then his eyes cut back to the ceiling, to make absolutely certain of the number.

Mull started snickering.

Oz finished his count and went back to staring into the white opaque material of his teammate’s etched Kilroy faceplate. “I don’t appreciate being mocked.”

“I’m not ‘mocking’ you,” Mull assured him, “I’m teasing you.”

“What’s the difference?”

“With one, I’d be laughing at you because you’re an idiot, and with the other, I’m laughing at you because I find your collection of little oddities utterly adorable .”

Oz wasn’t sure how to respond to that. But it made him feel… good, for some reason.

“The thing you don’t understand,” Oz began, leaning forward, “is that…”

Poacher arrived on the scene, flopping down into the chair next to them. “What’s this about a bar fight?” He turned to look at Oz. “You startin’ bar fights now, Oz?”

Oz shook his head. “I didn’t start any…”

“Leave him alone.” Multifarious snapped. “He can start as many fights as he wants.”

“I didn’t…”

Poacher held up his hands, surrendering the point. “I’m just sayin’ that maybe we shouldn’t go gettin’ into fights in a bar we’re supposed to be staking out.”

“We do not start fights, we merely respond to fights which happen around us.” Multifarious insisted. “I’m ‘chaotic neutral’ and Oz is ‘lawful good,’ so…” Mull trailed off, recognizing that Poacher was staring. “What? It’s…”

Poacher cut him/her off. “I’ve lived with Stacy for six years , I know what ‘The Nine Alignments’ used in Dungeons and Dragons are.

” He sounded insulted that Multifarious would even doubt that.

“I’m just objecting to you being ‘chaotic neutral.’ Arn is chaotic neutral, you’re straight-up ‘neutral evil’ and you know it. ”

“’Neutral evil’!?!” Multifarious jumped to his/her feet. “Who the fuck taught you how to work up a character sheet!?!” Mull pointed at him. “This is why I hate working with ‘Chaotic Good’ people!”

Oz just blinked at them in mystification, completely lost. “I don’t understand what this argument is even about.”

“We’re debating what our predominant identity trait is.

” Mull explained. “You have nine choices, on a spectrum. I’m saying that I’m a morally ambiguous free-spirit who doesn’t play by the rules, and Poacher’s contention is that I’m a selfish, conscienceless killer, who does bad stuff because I like it. ”

“Ah.” Oz considered that for a beat, then turned to look at his masked companion. “I don’t think you’re evil.”

“Ha!” Multifarious seemed very pleased by that and flipped Poacher off. “Told you, pig-fucker!”

“Well, of course he’s going to say that! He’s a fucking ‘Lawful Good’ choirboy!” Poacher protested, sneering at Oz. “And just ‘cause Mull isn’t currently evil doesn’t mean that the classification is wrong.”

“I don’t consider myself good.” Oz told them seriously, considering the matter. “I can try to be, but I’m not. And I feel like I’m getting farther and farther away from it as I go on.”

Poacher simply rolled his eyes.

“My family is…” Oz began.

There was a noise from the back of the bar.

“Hold that thought, baby doll,” Mull cut him off and stood up, “I’ve got work to do. You wait here.”

Oz swiveled in his chair, watching as the masked person stalked across the bar, followed by Poacher. “What’s going on?”

Mull pointed at a man who just walked in through the rear door of the bar. “ That fucker is wanted on all kinds of kiddy-raping shit.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I might hate doing this job, but that doesn’t mean I suck at it.”

Oz shrugged, accepting that explanation. He stood up to follow Mull and join in the questioning.

Mull waved him off. “Syd and I got this, don’t get your hands dirty.” He/she pointed towards the bartender, who had finally returned from his break. “You question that guy about the missing lady, leave the pedo to us.”

Oz paused in his tracks for a moment. “You and Syd are going to be okay on your own?”

For some reason, he wasn’t entirely comfortable with the idea of letting Multifarious go off alone with a wanted sex criminal, even if Poacher would also be there too. Hell, there was a very good chance that Sydney was wanted somewhere for one or two sex crimes himself.

He wasn’t entirely sure why he should worry about such a thing though. It made absolutely no sense. There were few people in the Consortium who could handle themselves in a fight as well as Multifarious. But… he still didn’t really like the idea.

Mull snorted. “Yeah, I think I can handle one asshole who likes to go to children’s playgrounds and play ‘One Pocket Pool,’ Oz.”

Oz paused, his brow furrowing in confusion. “I don’t know what that means.” He admitted.

Mull let out a sharp bark of laughter and turned to look at him. “Oh, that’s my Oz.” He/she shook her hands in the air. “You’re just sooo OZ!”

Oz frowned. “Is… is that an insult?” He called after Mull, feeling like it was. “Mull?”

He didn’t get an answer.

Fifteen minutes later, Oz had finished his questioning of the bartender and casually exited the bar, searching for his teammates.

Then watched in horror as Multifarious fell from the rooftop of a nearby building, and landed in a dumpster next to him.