#I was gonna say no one is cackling but some of the heretics are actually

[chronurgy]

Something I'm enjoying so far about rogue trader is that it takes the world deadly seriously. The inquisition fights heretics and evil aliens and those things are real and horrible but they also abuse their power. They aren't cackling villains who do things for the sake of evil, they believe it all. You believe it all too, because you've seen it. But that power is also abused, sometimes intentionally, sometimes not. There are no angels. Just people attempting to claw their way through a brutal, unforgiving universe.

[leotanaka]

judy & punch: liveblog and thoughts

* this post contains lots of spoilers *

trigger warning: domestic violence

i am loving the music used in the intro :) it’s so... upbeat and creepy and old school with cackling and animal noses - incredible!!! 

“the show is about to begin.”

mia looks amazing :) 

“The congregations of St Paul's grow thinner every day. They're coming to the show of shows, not kneeling down to pray.”

judy does all the work and punch gets all the praise and credit? 

the skill and talent it would have taken, back then to do these kinds of puppet shows... wow! 

judy deserves better!!! 

that child focusing more on judy and how sad she is, that her joy and happiness is just an act.

“The show seems to be getting punchier all the time. Very punchy, in fact. Do you think it needs to be quite so smashy?“

the look on judy’s face during that show basically said it all: she’s not liking the direction the puppet show is going in or how violent it is becoming or how much the audience seems to actually enjoy watching such violence. 

happy stoning day???? 

“It seems some folk are getting squeamish around here. "Stop stoning women!", all that nonsense.”

so... they round up women who, have done what exactly? and then get the public to stone them and kill them? that’s disgraceful!

she’s going to be killed for staring at the moon? YIKES!

essentially, it’s like the witch trials? 

i’m glad judy didn’t participate in that barbaric... whatever it was. 

only 20 minutes in and there is already so much normalisation of violence, particularly violence against women. like, the mentality of the people in that town... they don’t seem to realise or understand how wrong it is but rather, enjoy seeing it. 

derek is in love with judy :) 

i take it that punch is an alcoholic. 

“from now on, only good decisions.” i give him 5 minutes. 

what does that dog have around it’s neck? 

she wouldn’t even have been in danger if punch hadn’t left her by herself. 

I LOVE THIS DOG :) 

OMG!!!!!!!!!!!!

did he just... that poor baby :(((((( 

what a horrific scene :( i know they didn’t actually show it or more to the point, didn’t showcase what was happening to her at the time, only focusing on punch but the way they highlighted his brutality and violence while the only focus on judy was showing her bloodied handwas just... that was horrible to watch. 

damon’s acting in that scene was incredible!!!

and the way the music went harsh and cold the moment he stopped pretending... wow!!!!

HOLY CRAP!!!!!

“It's been a quiet few days. Still trying to convince the town to trust me with their grievances rather than take the law into their own hands.”

punch is basically that ryan reynolds facepalm when dealing with this constable lol

HE FRAMED THEM!!!

they’re definitely in league with the devil. i mean, just look at them. 

scotty found judy :) 

“i don’t mean to rush you but she could expire at any minute.” 

witch fever! heretics camp!

a constable who is reasonable and trying to find out the truth and ensure justice prevails vs a town who is overly suspicious and thinks most people are witches

“Justice and punishment should be determined by the law, Mr Frankly, not hearsay and an angry mob.”

that is what i call a primal scream!

...and they all seem to have heard it or felt that anger... this is going to be so good :) 

those two servants, being accused to killing her are the ones who raised her and people really believe they would kill her? 

“I'll tell you what she's doing in Seaside. Her ma and her pa owned that manor she lives in on the edge of the forest. They bred like fucking rabbits. There was a whole big bunch of them. And the whole load of them was wiped out by a plague when Judy was just a little 'un. Left behind just her and the two servants, who had to raise her up. And then one day, Punch passed through town with his magic show or whatever it was he was doing. Charmed the pants off everyone, especially her. So she ran away with him, learned puppets, and they travelled all over and they got sure and famous. They even had a show in the big smoke and everything. But it all went bottoms up when that arse-worm husband couldn't control his boozing... ..or his temper. And they got booted out of near every town. Flat broke when he knocked her up. So they had to slink back here, tails 'tween legs. He thinks he's too good for Seaside. I'd say he pretty much fits right in.”

i don’t know if that’s what’s happening but i am so here for judy essentially surviving because the hatred, anger and revenge she wants to take against her husband

“only scouts have pencils.” 

she definitely imagined that rabbit being punch - of what she is going to do to him. 

“Since when does what's right make any difference? What do you think we're all doing out here? Hm? You think we're out here because what's right is important to anyone in that town? Every one of us is wanted for some made-up reason or other. Most done nothing to warrant it. We gotta let it go, let it all go, let all of it go, all of it. Everything we had before we were cast out. Just keep moving forward and hope the rest of the world catches up.”

“They already think you're dead, and now suddenly you're not. That's gonna make you a witch or some kind of devil in their eyes for sure.”

“If I don't go back, he wins. I have to run away. I have to leave my home. He wins.”

they really beat up two old people just to get them to say they did something they didn’t do. 

judy out here living her best life and being happy while punch’s life is falling apart... it’s what he deserves

i think that constable knows they are innocent but doesn’t know what to do to help them. 

...and that someone would be judy :) 

polly deserves better :( 

yikes... that was really, really bad - i’m guessing that judy was the one who wrote all of that. 

they’re using children instead of puppets? 

the shock of the audience is amazing! 

imagine watching children fight and hurt each other and actually egging them on hurt each other more. 

“If you laugh, others will laugh with you. If you stop laughing, you die.” 

“what’s you say, punch? want to team up with the devil?” 

judy pretending to be an evil spirit in order to convince her husband that the devil is interested in him and wants to work with him... SHIT! THIS IS INCREDIBLE :)))))) 

she did that with puppets, didn’t she? 

what a beautiful song :) 

he’s actually doing the right thing? 

punch, you’re a shit!

that awkward moment when you’re going to hang two people and someone cut the ropes so they survive and instead just fall on the ground.

they are coming for the townspeople with axes - epic :) 

“I am no witch. This man here, my husband, killed my baby and tried to kill me. It seems to me something is very wrong with this town. You kill and cast out your best souls! Here you are trying to off two of the kindliest, gentlest folk this town has ever known. And based on what? A suspicion? A false accusation by this man? You've all been sick as pigs since you cast out Dr Goodtime with her medicines and such. You're all dressed like hobo street monkeys since you chased sartorial Alice here into the forest. You call us witches,  but what is a witch but a person who sits just outside your blinkered view of the world. And by that reckoning, you should all be afraid. Because I know you all live daily with the fear of your own difference. Today the witch is me... ..but I think you all know, you all fear, that tomorrow the witch might be you!”

OMG!!!!!! i don’t know who was more shocked at that - me or the audience? 

and this is the beginning of the punch and judy show!

THAT WAS AMAZING!!!!!!!!!!!!

[anewalternia]

hold fast to dreams

Latula’s so small that she has to incline her head straight up in order to look you in the eye. And when you cackle at her about it, she kicks you in the shin. Your guards raise their weapons, ready to defend you to the death, and you diplomatically tell all three of them to fuck off. Not that Latula couldn’t hold her own in a fight - you’ve seen what she can do with canes and swords now - but she wouldn’t hurt you.

Alshat keeps telling you that that this unspoken, unofficial moirallegiance is one of the most moronic things you’ve done quadrant-wise. You’re going to outlive Latula, most certainly. And she is awfully young compared to you. Does she even know all the things you’ve done? Would she approve if she did?

“Now I ain’t know about the last thing, but even though she’s in her first sweep at the Academy, she probably knows some shit about the subjugglators, and a lot of the things they've done, including breaking a law or ten. She ain’t no dumb motherfucker. She’s fucking brilliant. You don’t meet trolls like that every century, even if homegirl needs to learn to get her sleep on. She ain’t never get shut-eye no more.. ”.

Alshat nods and admits that Latula is quite intelligent, probably one of the most gifted trolls she’s ever met, and Alshat’s nearly 300 sweeps old. Gifted and the sort of troll who could become quite wise, Alshat calls her. Still, she does not approve of your unspoken pale encounters with Latula.

“She’s one of maybe one of four trolls who can get you to stop acting like a fucking fool when you fly into your rages, and certainly the one who does it with the most alacrity and ease,” Alshat says. “Which means she’s either very pale for you, or very suicidal.”

You don’t understand why Alshat is using this fact against you.

“And this makes for a bad moirallegiance because?”

“You two care about each other too much. If and when something happens to one of you, you won’t be able to function. And she’s really young, Kurloz. Remember that. Be her moirail if you really want to, but don’t burden her with too much just yet.”

Yeah, you guess that’s the best way to go.

So yeah, you let later Latula kick you in the shin. The way her short hair has been brushed to an almost burnished shine, and the fact that it’s been meticulously trimmed, informs you that Horuss is around somewhere in the Castle of Mirth, probably training some archeradictators at the moment. Only he could be so anal-retentive about making sure hair looks perfect. He’s anal-retentive about everything. It’s why you despise him so much

Then, you notice something in Latula’s hair.

There’s a little teal dragon hair pin - its stare ruby red - that’s been carefully applied to keep her bangs out of her eyes.

You’d meant to give it to Latula for her wriggling day, but you suppose Horuss and possibly Alshat decided to fuck with you. The Mirthful Messiahs know that you fuck with them often enough. Your kismesis and your auspistice. They deserve it.

So fuck ‘em both. Horuss is not getting any caliginous action from you for the next perigee (if you can last that long without getting any), and Alshat - your poor, unfortunate auspistice - is gonna get an epic fucking lecture, probably at your favorite volume: deafening. 

Giving Latula her present early. Of all the audacious behavior.

“You were going to give this to me for my wriggling day?” Latula asks, scrutinizing it with her limited sight. You nod.

“It motherfucking reminded me of you,” you tell her. 

“It’s lovely,” she replies.

And when she smiles, when she smiles at you, you just want to do whatever you can to keep her smiling that way. You are so pale for her that it hurts.

She kisses you on the cheek, and then fixes your greasepaint where her dark lipstick has left a spot.

She follows you into your quarters - since she promised she’d stay over today ‘cause you haven’t seen her in forever. Fucking legislacerator training. 

She eyes the walls somewhat disastefully, given the hemospectral rainbow of dried blood upon them. What can you say? The Mirthful Messiahs need their sacrifices and you need paint.

Latula sighs loudly, makes a faintly derisive comment, and sits on the edge of your recuperacoon.

Your recuperacoon is huge enough that three trolls your size could fit into it comfortably. 

So you get undressed fast and get ready to climb into the sopor.

However, Latula undresses slowly. When she removes the top part of her uniform, she flinches and involuntarily cries out. 

You look down at her partially naked form. She’s covered in scrapes and bruises.

“Latula, what the fuck?” you want to know. “How the motherfuck did you even...?” 

You trail off, lost for words. Fucking Messiahs, this is all your fault. You’re the one who taught her how to fight better in the first place, and all but told her to gp kick some ass.

Latula shrugs. “Can’t win every time you engage in grief. Thought I could take the four of them with my cane and get ‘em to stop talking shit about how I didn’t belong at the Academy and I shoulda been culled  Knocked one out, almost got one, the third one limped away, and the fourth one straight up took off running.” 

Well, motherfuck. You’re almost proud of her. All of that with a cane? Go, sister, go. You tell her this and she grins.

You start examining her injuries

“Why didn’t you tell me you got hurt?”

“I didn’t want to scare you. Or take you away from your work. Or have you think I was weak. Besides, they were mad that I got a placement on a fairly prestigious case. You worry about me way too much, you know.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I got good motherfucking reason. For the love of the Messiahs, Latula! You gotta know when to fight, and also when to run. That ain’t weakness. That’s self-preservation. I know you can make some epic fucking time on that skateboard, so up an fuckin’ do that if you gotta. Specially with some fucking four-on-one shit. And don’t be afraid to ping me if trolls try to fuck with you. I’ll send some righteous brothers and sisters over to the Academy to help your ass out.”

She has that expression, the one that suggests that she’d like to disagree.

“Grand Highblood, I don’t think that will be necessary.”

“Yeah, not necessary my left shame globe,” you reply. “Now stay still so I can fix your dumb ass up.”

Most of the injuries appear to be fairly superficial. As an apprentice subjugglator, way back when, you received extensive training in the intricacies of troll anatomy. It made you more efficient at incapacitating and culling heretics and enemies of the Empire. 

So while they look fuck ugly, none of them look like they’ll kill her. They’ll just hurt a lot as they heal. You tell her exactly this.

“Oh, well, that’s nice to know,” she says, rolling her eyes.

Nevertheless, she thanks you for your assistance.

You stil want to send a few of your academy subjugglators down to the fucking Academy and have them beat the absolute shit out of the trolls who hurt Latula, just ‘cause she’s the youngest, just because she’s small for a tealblood. 

In fact, maybe you should. You make a mental note to get the names of these trolls from her somehow. These cerulean and indigobloods are gonna get a firsthand lesson in what a fair battle looks like. Not a four-on-one fight with some pint sized ten sweeps old.

Latula must pick up on your anger, because she shooshes you into the closest thing to a state of calm that you’re capable of feeling right now.

“Kurloz, I can hold my own, you know. Maybe I ended up in a stupid grief but I’m not an idiot. Okay?”

You don’t respond. You don’t respond for a good five minutes.

“Kurloz? Do you trust me?” she finally asks. “Like really, and truly, trust my intellect? Do you trust that I can protect myself?”

You nod emphatically, without even having to think.

“Course I do, although your motherfuckin judgment could up an use a little work, and you need to fuckin’ learn to ask for help,” you reply, as you bandage her shoulder. “I’m a little pale for you, ain’t I?”

Before you said that, she’d been biting down on her lower lip to keep from crying out in pain. 

Then, once you say it, she breaks into the widest smile you’ve seen on her since she was an actual wiggler.

“Pale for you too, sorta,” she says, with quite a bit of emotion in her voice. 

You make the diamond gesture with your thumbs and forefingers. You wish you were less pale for her. In fact, maybe you’ll just... take back what you said and tell her to fuck the fuck off for her own safety. Enemies of the Empire could probably use this kid to get to you, if your relationship keeps going the way it’s going. And then you’d be useless. Alshat’s right. If something happened to Latula, you don’t know what you’d do.

You’d still have Horuss, but Latula...? She’s the first troll you’ve gotten close enough to consider as a possible ‘rail for more a hundred sweeps.

“Kurloz?” She taps her foot nervously. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, everything’s fuckin’ bitchtits, don’t worry.”

She gazes at you skeptically. “Whatever you say.”

Latula raises her hand like she’s about to ask a schoolfeeding question, but you know what she plans to do. You should tell her not to, but you want her to do it just as much as she wants to.

You bend down so she can reach the top of your head, and she gently musses her hair until you begin to purr.

“Better?” she asks.

No. She’s just making this harder for you. Motherfuck, is this a test from the Messiahs themselves? Testing your faith? Your resolve? Kurloz Makara, you are failing miserable.

But still. The sensation, the way her fingers massaging your scalp leach the agitation from you. You lean into Latula’s gesture, and continue purring. She smiles and starts to purr as well.

Once she’s done, you’ll go find an ice pack for her black eye, one you initially didn’t notice before, because it’d been mostly concealed by her glasses. 

However, for now, you’ll just chill with her until the both of you have relaxed. You and she lie in your recuperacoon, the top of her head tucked under your chin, bubbles issuing from her nose as she breathes in and out, snoring softly.

She awakens in the evening while you and Alshat talk shop. Mostly over your last argument with Horuss, and also about how to best break things to Latula. Latula’s clearly washed the sopor off herself and is wearing one of your shirts as a nightgown.

You don’t want to tell her what you must.

But you do anyway. You give her your reasons. She seems to understand them.

“I get it. I’m a liability,” she says. “Should probably get properly dressed, then, and get out of here. I have class to go to.”

Alshat leaves the two of you be.

“I really am motherfucking sorry, Latula. I just...” Your voice gathers vehemence. “I don’t want any mothefuckers to try to use you to get to me. If something happened to you because--”

“I get it.” She’s not crying, but she won’t look you in the eye. “It’s okay if you say no, but could I just make one request before I leave?”

She nearly reaches out to touch you before remembering that she shouldn’t. You take her small hand, and that’s when she starts to cry, and you’re not far behind.

“Could we...” she starts out. “We probably shouldn’t be moirails, but could we at least stay friends? You’re one of my favorite assholes.”

You bark out a laugh at that, then think for a while. You don’t think you can let her go entirely. You still want to be able to check up on her every so often.

“Yes, my miracle of a tealblooded sist--....” You stop yourself. “Of course, Latula. Friends. We can be motherfucking friends, for sure.”

“Okay.”

Latula nods.

Later, when she’s gone back to her hive, you eat sopor slime pie, and generally make a fool of yourself until Alshat and Horuss come to comfort you. At least this time you don’t venture out of your quarters and act moronic in front of your subordinates.

“It would not have ended well, Highblood,” Horuss says, of your almost moiraillegiance.

“You made the right decision,” Alshat says. “She’ll be safer this way. And if she needs help, she can still ping you.”

You think of Latula snoring in your recuperacoon next to you, her head on your chest, her hair floating around her face. And then the way she papped you when you woke up from a daymare and startled you awake.

The right decision, Kurloz, you tell yourself.

You made the right decision.

Thing about making the right decision, though? Most of the time, it absolutely fucking sucks.h 

[saofic-blog]

rating: T for violence/gore

word count: 2000

fandom: homestuck post-game feferi-is-empress alternia (entirely original character focused)

your name is aaeren sindra, and you and yours have a job to do and fast to do it.  you've been given your pick of ships on the rapprochement (the fuck kind of name is that, anyway.  the empire's going so strange outside the ranks of the subjugglators and the history they continue to teach untouched by propaganda from her complacency's gentler reign).  it's not what you would prefer, but your ship's disabled for the minute and this is what you have until the rapprochement gets you back with your own.  and there's things to do as don't wait for what you'd like.

"that one," you say, pointing lazily at one of the warships in the upper deck with the iron bar held lazily in your fingers.  you can't say what drew your eye to that one, in particular, except that there's something familiar about it among the rest of these sterile spacefighting vessels. "tell whoever you need to, i need it crewed and ready to take us down to that planet sharpish," you say, and the big tealblood sort of squeaks in dismay in a way that cheers you right up.

"right on," you say, and clap him on the shoulder with the hand not idly stroking your pipe.  he stifles another squeak that has you snickering as you leave him to type orders and requisitions in on his little tablet and go to track down the rest of your cohort.  

it's not even an hour later you're pinged that the ship is ready for you, and when you wander on down there, there's a little indigo brother glaring up at you.  you're one of the shortest sisters of the blood you know and he's barely topping your collarbones.  no paint.  you think he probably has never seen the inside of a church vessel, from the feel of him, but his untrained power pulses and crackles at your horns and you see immediately why this ship felt familiar.  you bare your teeth at him in a welcoming grin.

he frowns back at all of you in unveiled distaste.

"all right," he says, icy-sharp.  "you have me, you have my ship, do i get to know why?"

"of course, brother," you say, and he bares fangs at you and hisses a little.  you can feel someone guffawing quietly behind you and you don't particular blame them, but you are vaguely getting your convince on that he might try to flay you if you showed it outright. as good a show as that might be, you don't have time for it right now.  

"found some people what we've been looking for, and here's the closest team to that planet right down there.  pretty handy, hmmm?"

there's a beat where his power screeches against yours, obviously unused to being brought to bear against another indigo.  then he relaxes the tiniest fraction.

"since you didn't say anything about 'motherfucking,' or 'miracles,' i'll accept it this once," he grumbles, not quite a growl.  "let's go."

he leads you onto the ship, where the inundation with his power is even more obvious.  irxiye and adniah make little noises of approval to each other.  he shoots them a suspicious look.  

"give your coordinates to xealle at the bridge if you've got them," is all he says, though.  eshagu nods and heads off to do so.

"he's not gonna get lost, is he?  because i'm not digging him out of the ductwork in a perigree."

"nah," irxiye says, "could follow the path to the bridge in here with eyes closed, brother."

"the fuck with that 'brother' shit, i'm not one of you.  it's maligner labrynth to all of you," he snaps.

"messiahs bless," irxiye and adniah chorus at him.  his 'voodoos shriek into the air again and you are hard-pressed to keep from cackling out loud at him and the look on their faces.  they're young and more vulnerable even to his untrained leaking.  he'd be a motherfucking holy terror if he'd been taught proper.

the ship buzzes to life around you and labrynth turns and stalks off towards the bridge.  you shrug at irxiye and adniah and follow him. they immediately go to join up with eshagu, looming over a deeply unimpressed cerulean who must be the navigator.  

labrynth doesn't say anything else to any of you until the planet is looming into the entirety of the viewport.  

"are you going to want ground troops?" he asks abruptly, showing up at your elbow fast enough to startle you.  

"wouldn't say no," you say, drawling it out like a purr that makes him glare up at you in some kind of annoyance.  messiahs help you but this guy is way too fun to tease.

you weren't quite aware that this ship was ground-troop trained.  most of the rapprochement doesn't seem to be.  but it does make your job a near sight easier.

"here," you add, and pull out your palmhusk from your sylladex to pull up the fugitives you're after.  "we need these four alive.  everyone else you find is fair game."

he grins at that, just the tiniest quirk of fangs, and you despair of this poor dumb little brother so far away from where he belongs.

"right. send me that," he says, taking your palmhusk and typing a string into the first open field.  

"hey," you say perfunctorily.  most trolls as try that move on you end up with their pan some kind of stoved in.  he just clicks angrily at you, apparently unconcerned with possible retaliation, and shoves the palmhusk back into your hands.  you send the information to the encoded address and something chimes in his sylladex.

"we'll be ready to deploy by the time we've broken atmo," labrynth says, and stalks off.

"aaeren," cingen, your quiet shadow for your first stint leading a squad, says.  "you bein' mighty sweet on that unbeliever."

"i'm an unbeliever, by most standards," you say, mildly.

"yeah, but you're different, sister.  you got your knowing and your care on, anyway.  he's as heretic as a blood brother can go."

"girl can't help herself," you say (admit).  "shit's downright hilarious."

cingen grins at that, his paint leering cheerfully.

"can't argue with that, i guess," he says.

===============================================

labrynth's troops are disciplined and silent, lined up behind you and your cohort.  they deploy at speed, eager and restless despite (or because of) the suddenness of their mission.  they get the garrison locked down and you lead your cohort in smashing through the doors in a storm of enthusiastic whooping and cackling.  trolls and the aliens they'd been sheltering here scatter like sand before the storm.

it's not until you've carved your way halfway to the inner sanctum that you realize your cohort is numbered six instead of five: labrynth has followed you into the thick of it, bloodlust running so high and feral you'd tuned yourself right along with it (cingen is the only one holding apart, you think.  fuck that is not gonna look too good on a report).  he's got a knife that's not quite a machete or a short sword, and a motherfucking sweet-ass cleaver, both greasy and dripping with multicolored gore just as your heavy pipes are.  there's a splash of blue across his face like a parody of paint.

then it ceases to matter, because you've flushed two of your prey, and your hunting call is echoed by your cohort and underlined by your tagalong's vicious, rattling growl.  

it's a good mission, all things told.

===============================================

you're still stuck on the rapprochement until you can rendezvous with your brethren's ships, though, and other than trading off guard duty on the prisoners, there's not a lot that admiral artiev will let you do.  he's pained and annoyed about the prisoners, but he's got no legal jurisdiction over them or you beyond his “absolutely no culling on my ship” demands.  

out of boredom, you spend an after-midnight tracking the sending address labrynth gave you on your palmhusk until you find his contact number.

-- deliriousExposition [DE] began trolling abstractedDiscord [AD] --

DE: hey little brother whAt's up

AD: ...

AD: Which th3 fuck on3 of you clown fucks is this.

DE: it's AAustere

AD: Okay that actually m3ans nothing to m3 sinc3 non3 of you actually introduc3d yours3lv3s.

DE: the short one with the long hAir!

AD: Of cours3.

AD: Fuck I thought I 3ncrypt3d that addr3ss.

DE: you did!  i just retrAced it bAck to you <:D  

AD: I hav3n't s33n an 3moticon that inan3 sinc3 asc3nsion.  How th3 fuck old ar3 you.

DE: 53 sweeps <:O

AD: Just my fucking luck.

DE: whAAAAAt how old Are you?

AD: I don't hav3 to t3ll you that.

DE: stingy!!! i just wAnt to know!

AD: What th3 h3ll kind of r3asoning is that.

AD: Why ar3 you trolling m3 anyway.

DE: i'm bored!  we're not Allowed to do Anything fun on this ship D,:>

AD: ...  All right.  If th3r3's nothing important th3n.

-- abstractedDiscord [AD] has blocked deliriousExposition [DE] --

we-e-elllll fuck! this guy is a downright difficult bastard and no mistake!

you trip like three different security protocols trying to look up major maligner labrynth's information (you are not the empire's best hacker, to understate the issue tastefully), but eventually you uncover his block location.  

a couple of warmbloods give you funny looks as you cross the ship, but none of them seem willing to start anything with your paint and the arrogant banner of your hair.  the respiteblock halls are marked with symbols in a variety of green-through-blue colors in yet another baffling display of progressiveness.  labrynth's stands out in a brazen near-purple shade of indigo, a complicated sun-and-upside-down-anvil looking sigil you don't know the name of.  

you knock on the door with your iron pipe, a gentle drumstick tat-a-tap-tap-tat, which you are three hundred percent capable of keeping up and racheting into an incessantly faster clanging crescendo, but the door swishes open long before that becomes necessary.  labrynth looks up at you with grudging confusion that dawns into grudging outrage.

"the fuck," he says.  it's weird seeing eyes that shade in an unpainted face.  makes him look all vulnerable and naked.  luckily, you delight in the vulnerability of others.

"you gonna let me in, little brother?" you ask with a wide, leering grin you learned straight from cingen, who maintains that he copied it off the old grand highblood himself.

the portal slams shut in you face, and you can't help yourself: you break down cackling in the hallway.  a couple doors open and then just as quickly shut when the occupants see you.  

"all right, all right, maligner," you conceed, touching the heel of your gloved hands carefully to your eyes to dry the tears of mirth without fucking up your paint.  

"the fuck do you want?" he demands through the door.  he's not leaking 'voodoos tonight, so either he really needed that little jaunt of most riotous bloodshed a couple nights back, or he's not really that annoyed with you.  maybe both?

"how old are you?" you try.

"fucking a hundred and sixty five, allright, what the fuck?"

"i'm booooorrredd," you whine, as sad and wrigglerish as you know how, fingers scratching at the crack in the portal.  it nearly catches your claws when it swooshes back open.

"what the everloving hell is your problem?" labrynth asks, glaring up at you again.

you shrug, scraping your pipe against the floor.  "I'm bored.  tell me about yourself."

"the fuck." he says.

then he pulls his cleaver and goes for your thorax.  

luckily, you happen to have your specibus already out, and an unholy screeching clang echoes down the hallway, followed by a little chorus of beeps and clicks as a lot of doors lock down.

well. this works, too, you decide as he strifes you down a deck and over half an entertainment hall.

[comic-voice-over2]

Joker vs. Phoenix (Chp 16)

It’s bird versus clown...with a bit of a magical monkey.

           Silence filled the X-Ray area, as Joker and Phoenix were standing around, swords in hand. The rest of Phoenix’s team may have continued their search for Arsenal—in hopes of Phoenix being alright—with the teenager preparing to lunge at Joker first.

           “What are you waiting for, freak? Come at me” he growls softly.

           “I’d like to but I think I’ll let you screw up first, so I can kill you off with ease” Joker laughs “And after that, I’ll kill off your boyfriend and the rest of the team!”

           Fueled by the rage, Phoenix yells as he tries to slash Joker with the sword, only for the clown to defend himself using Talia’s sword as a temporary shield. Doing so causes Phoenix to leap back, as he prepares to await for Joker’s next move.

           “Y’know Joker, I’ve been rather curious about you” Phoenix stated “Why you and Batman have such a long history together…”

           “Really now? I’m surprised you’ve actually cared” Joker replied, slashing at him “But if you really want to know about me, we could’ve thrown a little tea party instead”

           Though Phoenix isn’t that dumb enough to fall for that, knowing Joker would end up killing him anyway—especially if the tea itself is poisoned. The two continued the sword fighting, with either side not losing to one another. Joker then tried to thrust the sword at Phoenix, but he dodged it.

           “What I want to know is how come you’re not with your little friends?” Joker asked “Think they can’t find Roy without you?”

           “Oh, they can, but there’s just one little problem: You” he replies.

           Hearing that caused Joker to stand still, awaiting the explanation.

           “Why me?” he asked in suspicion.

           “Simple really. Even if we do find Roy in this hellhole, you’d still be around causing more trouble. Even so, you’d drag Roy to the point where you’d toss him off the island” he replied, adding “And I’m not dumb enough to not understand that”

           Angered by that remark, Joker lunges at Phoenix, sword in front Phoenix once again dodges, as he nearly got cut by the sword, but he pushes Joker back to give himself space. And with this going on, the rest of Team Phoenix presses on their search for where Roy’s being held.

           “My sensors are picking up his signals pretty good” Penny stated “Where did you manage to get this device, anyway?”

           “Oh, Mr. Wayne lent it to me, since it came from his father in the cave” Oxford replied “That little doodad is able to pick up body heat of any person of specific choice. Rather smashing tool, there”

           And as Oxford could say any more, Red Hood was busy shooting down any thugs who get in their way. Nightwing was busy doing his part, giving them the old shock treatment of his own.

           “We should be closer” he stated “Hope there’s not a scratch on him”

           “Ah, he should be fine. He is Arsenal after all” Red Hood pointed out.

           Luckily for them, the signal device was beeping rapidly, hinting that Roy is very near. When they got to an open room—the Control Room—they spot Roy sitting in a chair, albeit tied up and with a bruised face, thanks to Joker. The group got in with shocked looks on their face—save for Red Hood, who’s expression we can’t see due to his mask.

           “Roy, what the fuck happened?!” he asked in shock “Did Joker did this to you?”

           “Y-Yeah…all while knowing you guys would show up” Roy replied, his face stinging still “He said he was gonna kill me after he’d do the same to you…”

           When he looks up, he does see everyone else, with the exception of Phoenix, who he wonders if he didn’t show up. Red Hood stated that he is here, but he’s currently fighting Joker as he speaks, which got Roy shaken up. He said that he should go and help him, but Penny stops him from going.

           “But I must go and save him!” Roy tells her “I can’t let him die!”

           “But if you go in there, he won’t be the only one” Red Hood pointed out “He trusted us to go out and find you while he deals with Joker himself”

           Upset about this, Roy let out a sigh as he was being freed by Penny. Able to get up, but his face hurting still, he does agree to escape…but hopes that Phoenix will come out in one piece so the two can continue on with their lives in peace.

           Back at the room, Phoenix was still dealing with Joker, but felt that he’s losing a bit. The reason is that Joker has Talia’s sword—which, thanks to Talia’s spirit—has granted him some strength to make Phoenix get overtaken. The possessed clown lets out a few cackles as he pushes the teenager around.

           “I’m surprised that you’re still standing” he tells him “I bet your father’s pretty damn proud of you for that”

           “Of course he would be, besides, you’re his nemesis after all” Phoenix scoffed, as he gets back on his feet “What I wanna know is why you haven’t stayed dead?”

           Joker laughs as he pointed out that, even though he did die at the hands of Red Hood, Talia’s spirit managed to revive him—albeit in a possessed state—so he decided that with this, he’s able to get back at not only Red Hood, but for Batman as well, for personal reasons.

           “Likewise, I too planned revenge” came Talia’s voice “Because he let me get shot at the theatre from the asshole I’m controlling now”

           “You’re lucky this asshole here’s helping you, bitch” Joker snarled “Otherwise you’d have worse luck controlling some other meat sack around, like Scarecrow”

           This, of course, led to the two arguing with each other, much to Phoenix’s own irritation. And with the clown and spirit fussing, this gave Phoenix the chance to secretly attack Joker without him even knowing what hits them. And as he prepares himself, he dashes in, cutting Joker’s face using the sword. This, though, gets the clown enraged.

           “Are you even kidding me?!” he asked “Attacking me without my knowhow?”

           And for that, he dashes the sword at Phoenix, but he blocks it with the sword.

           “Well, you two were having such a lovely argument, I didn’t want to interrupt” Phoenix said with a chuckle “Besides, it was just the right time I needed”

           And from that remark, Joker wasted no time slashing Phoenix’s face with a sword, giving him a cut near his mouth. This caused the teenager to cry out in pain, as he tries to fight it. Joker kicks him to the floor, preventing him from making any sudden moves.

           “I’d say we’re even now” Joker cackles “Don’t you agree, Boy Blunder?”

           “Fuck…you…!” he snarled, his hand covered with some blood.

           “I’m more of a fighter than a lover, even your father understood that” Joker pointed out “Of course, putting you out of your misery should be one less of a problem…”

           And by the time Phoenix stumbles back on his feet, Joker slashes him again…this time at his left arm, causing the teenager to drop his sword to clench at the second fresh cut. Joker begins laughing as he realized he’s winning this battle; and although fighting Batman is far more entertaining, he figure this’ll whet his appetite a bit.

           I-I can’t lose now! Not like this, Phoenix thought, Joker’s…gotten stronger because of both mother and her sword…wait, that’s it!

           He realized that Joker’s winning because of Talia. But, if he can rid of the sword, there’s a slight chance that he may win, but with his face ‘n arm messed up, that’s a problem for him. Elsewhere, the rest of Phoenix’s team was on their way to find an escape route, but something wasn’t right…

           “G-Guys! We need to get Damian! He could be in trouble!” Roy pleaded.

           “Oh crap, I totally forgot about him!” Penny groaned “We were so busy searching for you, we figure he’d…hang on…Oxford…”

           They stopped and noticed that Oxford’s signal device was showing where Phoenix is currently located. However, it was showing a warning sign that he’s hurt from the possessed Joker, and that he could end up killed if not saved.

           “Oh shit, this isn’t good…” Red Hood stated.

           “It feels as if with Talia’s spirit controlling Joker, they’ll be able to defeat Mr. Wayne in no time” Oxford stated “We should hurry and get him!”

           The crew then realized that, if they managed to get to him, their chances of survival may be slim as well, since Talia’s spirit is in control of Joker for it. That’s when Penny decided that Oxford should go and help save Phoenix…along with dispelling Talia’s spirit out of Joker.

           “Wait, he can do that?” Nightwing asked.

           “Of course. He’s able to cast spirits out of possessed people before” Penny explains “It’s practically natural to him. So he should finish the job”

           “Well…if that’s what it takes to save D-Man…” Roy adds “Go on Oxford. Help him finish off Joker for good!”

           Oxford nods as he gives the tracking device to Penny, heading to the room to where they left Phoenix off. Back at the room, Phoenix himself was able to defend himself—the cuts on his face and left arm have stopped bleeding. Though He’s got a new cut on his right arm this time; he realized that this can’t be good at all.

           “Boy, this is so much easier than fighting your father” came Talia’s voice out of Joker “Of course, this’ll make you regret your decision of turning against me”

           “What’s to regret? You’re just evil…” he growled “Even father knew that. So what I had decided was my choosing…you couldn’t even deal with it…”

           But then Joker kicks Phoenix in the face, shutting him up. Talia’s voice was then furious, as she barks about how he wanted to get back at father and son for the longest…even at the point that he got killed by the Heretic at one time in his life. But since Batman brought him back, it pretty much changed his life, more or less.

           “Something tells me that I should’ve possessed him instead of this garbage heap” Talia groaned, regretting her decision of who to possess “He’d take you down within moments…”

           “And yet you were dumb enough to get at me, only because I shot you” Joker stated “Since who knows—or cares—where Heretic is…”

           And that’s when Oxford had shown up, witnessing the bickering of Joker and Talia…not to mention the bruised and cut-up Phoenix moreso. However, since the monkey did open the door, this caught Joker’s attention faster than Phoenix.

           “Well, looks like one of your friends managed to get back in one piece…which is a pity, since it should’ve been in pieces” Joker points out “Which should be no problem, with this trusty sword, I can make that happen!”

           “Guess again, circus act!” Oxford shouts, as he opens his tome.

           Seeing the monkey open the tome causes the possessed clown to stop in his tracks. Oxford then mutters out a spell as he soon casts it on Joker, which then summons a ring of light around the clown. This causes Joker to yell out in pain as the spell snags Talia’s spirit, taking her right out of Joker’s body. And after Talia’s spirit was dragged into the underworld, Joker’s body then collapses.

           “Is…Is he dead?” Phoenix asked softly.

           “Yes. I’ve summoned a spell to drag your mother’s soul back to the hell that she belongs” Oxford replies, kicking Joker’s now-soulless body aside “At the least, you won’t have to worry about her again”

           “Fair enough…now, are there any spells that can help heal these cuts?” he asked.

           Oxford nods as he goes up to Phoenix, asking the teenager to relax as he starts the healing process. As he gets to the pages to where the heal spells are, he summons a few onto Phoenix’s three cuts, which made him grunt in pain.

           “Do not worry, Mr. Wayne. These will take effect in no time. Though they won’t clean up the blood, though” Oxford pointed out “Trust me, I’ve done this before…”

           And during the healing, he asked how did he managed to be overtaken so easily? Phoenix stated that his mother’s spirit was making Joker oddly stronger, to where he was unable to fight him that much. That’s how he ended up getting more cuts than the clown did. Oxford then turns to see the cut that Phoenix did on Joker’s face…along with the bullet on his forehead.

           “Hmm, I can assume that the bullet hole was from Mr. Todd, correct?” Oxford asked.

           “Yeah. And boy, was he pissed” Phoenix stated “I was told he had to finish Joker off after what happened to Nightwing back at the Steel Mill. He kept his word about killing him”

           Oxford simply chuckled as the healing was complete. He then brings Phoenix back to his feet, telling him that the rest of the group is waiting down the hallway…or so he remembered, since he dashed in here so quickly.

           “I hope they haven’t ran off without us” Oxford muttered “Besides, Roy was desperate to get to you so badly…”

           And while the two were slowly making their way down, with Phoenix regaining his strength back, the pair has spotted the crew back around the control room where Roy was once held captive. Penny turns around to notice them firsthand, which the attention then caught on from the rest.

           “H-Hey, you’re not dead!” Red Hood calls out “Which is a good thing, really”

           “Yeah, though, I would be if not for him” Phoenix chuckled, pointing at Oxford “He came in at the right moment and did some crazy magic…which healed me afterwards…”

           And when Roy notices the areas that Phoenix got slashed by Joker, he goes up to hug him…though he had to lighten on the hug, which made the teenager winced in pain. He said that he’s so happy that neither of them are dead, and that they’re now free from Joker’s crazy plans.

           “If you’re wondering where his body is now, it’s not going anywhere” Oxford chuckled “It’s as cold as the asylum floors here”