Supervillain

I've always thought taking over the world was a bad plan for a supervillain. Once you're the leader of the world, there's nothing left to conquer, and you have to maintain control. If you don't maintain control directly, then you run the risk of one of your underlings gaining more influence and power than you.

Of course, I suppose you could just kill that person off, unless they killed you first. Being a supervillain just doesn't seem fun. Happily Never After was one show I think described this pretty well. What if Rumpelstiltskin had gotten the baby?

Why did he want the baby? What would he do with a baby? I don't go around trying to con people out of their babies. (Well, I'm not a villain either, but nuances.)

Anyways, back to the reason of this post. I'm writing another flash fiction! This one is for a contest, though. It's on Figment (a site I don't trust; read its Terms and Conditions and you'll figure out why) but it's put on by Brandon Sanderson.

In case you didn't read my magic systems ramblings, or you missed the fangirling in between the lines, I absolutely adore Sanderson's work. He's one of the very few people I would find meeting/talking to flail-worthy (the other people mostly consist of ThePianoGuys).

I deleted my account off Figment a while ago after I read through their Terms and Conditions, but the possible prize of talking to Sanderson is enough enticement to make me go back. At least for a little while.

It makes me wonder if he'd respond to an email of mine, or just delete it as fanmail. I wonder if he responds to fanmail. Maybe I should ask him. He's a cool guy.

OFF TOPIC!

The contest prompt: “If you were a super-villain, what would your one power be? And how would you use it to conquer the world?” --Brandon Sanderson

So far, I have the following. It's only about 250 words, and it will be the first "chapter" of my flash fiction. I have yet to even figure out what power my supervillain has, to be truthful. (I'll stop talking now. Here it is):


"So," the woman sitting before me asked, smoothing her skirt down as she picked up her pencil and notebook. "What's it like to be the ruler of the world?"

"Frankly?" I replied, snorting. "Exhausting. I wish I could quit." I leaned back in my chair, looking lazily out over the city.

This, of course, was not the expected answer. The blonde reporter looked up sharply, her bangs swaying on her forehead. "Excuse me?" she questioned, surprised.

"First there was the political maneuvering to get to this spot," I said idly, wiping off a speck of dust from the seat of my black chair. "Then there's the baggage that people expect you to take care of when you're the leader." I sighed, standing up and turned to the window completely, clasping my hands behind my back. "What good is owning the world if no one follows you? In order to keep my kingdom, short of making everyone hate and fear me, I have to please the people."

"Well . . ." the reporter said, and I could hear her pencil scratching frantically across the paper. She cleared her throat after a moment. "Not a lot is known about how you rose to power . . . ."

"Mm," I said, rolling my shoulders. "Okay. I'll bite."

What could it hurt to tell everyone, now that I was the undisputed ruler? Perhaps a hero would rise against me.

Hah.