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dathomirdumpsterfire · 30 days ago
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~~ Chapter 6: Pickles and Ice cream ~~
Read the prequel on Ao3, links at the bottom. Updates Tuesdays.
When Dryden had gotten a holocall ping at three in the morning, he knows there was only one person it could be. His organization, as a whole, knew not to interrupt his beauty sleep unless the consequences of waiting until morning were in the 'millions of credits' range, and that just didn't happen on a tight ship like his. With rare exception, of course.
So he dutifully gets up, puts on his nubian cashmere robe -the long one with the embossed gray lilies, not the short black number with cranes- and sends a servant to go fetch him caf. Then, he answers. 
"My lord," he smiles at the hooded holo form sleepily, "how may I be of service?" 
"Vos. Listen carefully: My Enemies have decided to try a new track. They have unleashed some kind of spell or device which-"
As soon as he hears 'my enemies', capital M, capital E, Dryden knows to get comfortable.
The sith lord starts in on one of his legendary rants, with all the effortless panache of a born thespian. Maul paces in the tight space allotted by the holocomm, throwing his entire body into the little performance. Facial expressions that tell entire stories. Sweeping gestures with fists and- ah, he’s grown out his claws. Lovely.
"-these… instances vary in length and frequency. The lack of discernible pattern tells me that-"
One of the staff drops off his caffuccino with extra whip and cinnamon, and the head of the Crimson Dawn sips on it while learning a fair amount about a variety of things. Who Darth Maul suspects is doing this, what they might be using to do it, when it started, where the technique might have come from, why they might be doing this, and how poorly holoprojections capture the infernal yellow glow of his eyes when Maul is pissed .
The complete story just isn't possible via holocall. A shame… his sith is ever so entrancing when furious.
"-so now you understand what we must be looking for. I suspect the line of Darth Morpic might have texts which-"
He's still going. Dryden snuggles with his caf and waits for his moment. 
"-then you will have to bring whatever resources you find here to me, on Dathomir. I will ensure the temple's defenses do not… impede you, also-"
Still going.
"-renovations to that area are a work in progress. Do not land on the east side of the cliffs. Leaving is not an option or I would-"
His caf is gone, but the moment is here. Opportunity sings to him. He stands to meet the zabrak’s energy, gesturing grandly with his empty caf mug.
"My lord, please! It would be an honor to visit your home, bringing you aid." Stage secured, Dryden sets a hand to his breast, leaning in toward the holoprojector's camera. "My collection of esoteric references is nowhere near as extensive as yours must be, but I will begin combing it immediately."
Maul looks pleased. Or, no, he looks faintly murderous, but he’s just blinked the way he does when something has pleased him. Dryden smiles, indulgent, and sweetly promises, "I will also have a team begin checking the usual auctions and private collections for additional resources. Whoever has dared to inconvenience us like this is very quickly going to discover the error of their ways, yes?"
By 'discover' he means 'die for', and by 'error' he means 'interrupting his business and keeping Maul away'. How dare they? His sith is a necessary feature to Dryden's routine. To the Dawn itself. 
Working under sithless conditions would be, well, possible , of course. Allowing their criminal empire to fall over such a loss would be inexcusably negligent on his part. No, the Dawn would come regardless of Maul’s involvement, but operating without his cold-blooded, yellow-eyed warlock would be so much more… unsatisfying. Dull. Dreary. 
Untenable!
"Very good," Maul says, haughty. "I will expect you."
"Of course," he simpers, bowing slightly.
Maul scowls and hangs up.
Dryden grins at the inactive holocomm. Dathomir! Finally, his patience is beginning to pay off. What knowledge, what power, a planet of such repute might hold. With the demise of the witches the only thing left to guard Dathomir’s secrets is the planet itself, and… well. If any one being is capable of protecting the wisdom of an entire culture, perhaps it is Lord Maul. 
But, oh, he has come to understand the sith like no other, earning more of him with each conversation. Maul could be a truly formidable obstacle, if he chose to be, between Dathomir's lost arts and the rest of the galaxy. But, with time, he will not be to Dryden Vos. 
Flushed with victory, the crime lord wanders to the small archive he has onboard, still in his night clothes. Most of his collection is on an unnamed ice moon in a vault -not on a ship that could get scuttled if his luck soured- but there were a few things here that might provide either answers, or something to whet the appetite. At least until more robust materials could be found. 
He makes a call to the caretakers on his private moon base, and sends them digging. Then, the near-human starts in on trawling the materials onboard.
"Fear not, my dear ," he tells the quiet stacks, "I shall find us answers."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
tag list: @ghostpeppercalamari
[If you want to be added to the tag list comment on the chapter.]
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lackadaisycal-art · 9 months ago
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I'm getting so sick of major female characters in historical media being incredibly feisty, outspoken and public defenders of women's rights with little to no realistic repercussions. Yes it feels like pandering, yes it's unrealistic and takes me out of the story, yes the dialogue almost always rings false - but beyond all that I think it does such a disservice to the women who lived during those periods. I'm not embarrassed of the women in history who didn't use every chance they had to Stick It To The Man. I'm not ashamed of women who were resigned to or enjoyed their lot in life. They weren't letting the side down by not having and representing modern gender ideals. It says a lot about how you view average ordinary women if the idea of one of your main characters behaving like one makes them seem lame and uninteresting to you.
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earfgoddesss · 3 months ago
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one of these is not like the other.
((also moots, who wanna be the one other zukaang fan with me??))
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shrimpwizards · 10 months ago
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i can be your angle or you devil...
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internetskiff · 6 months ago
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Brother rly went "so yeah about that beer :)" immediately followed by implying he had (and still has) to beat at least a couple of people to maintain his position in Civil Protection. Really creates way more questions than it answers. What did u do Barney Calhoun. Is beating people up all it takes? Is there innocent blood on his hands? Is there weight on his conscience? Despite everything, did he still partake in the perks the position offered, the better housing, the extra food? How trusted is he in the resistance, really? It's probably well known that he still has to participate in the Combine's oppressive system, right? They can't all possibly view it as a completely necessary evil. I mean, some rebels hate Odessa Cubbage and his only crime seems to be "being an idiot".
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Okay completely unrelated train of thought now but I wonder if he smuggles the melons Kleiner feeds to Lamarr. You can see some watermelons in a Civil Protection outpost/apartment so I assume that's one of the "better" foods the Combine provide to those that serve them. Goddd there's so much to this guy but it's all implication.. Wish he had more screentiiiiiiime I wanna see more of him. I wanna see what he's had to do to maintain cover, and what he's actually done to earn the Resistance's trust. How do the rebels feel, knowing that while they have to take shelter in the canal system, he's able to sleep in an actual apartment with an intact door?
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mikimeiko · 21 days ago
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L'amica geniale | Season 1 (2018), Saverio Costanzo
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slymanner · 15 days ago
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Look all I'm saying is if that a shadow game can work THAT well and be so well designed story wise and gameplay wise
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HE can work
#sonic#silver the hedgehog#sonic the hedgehog#silver right now is such a open canvas of a character#story wise and gameplay wise#he's been a side character for so long and in the one time he was a main character his whole story was basically axed from canon#he's definitely been explored since then but not to extent we've probably wanted with this character-#and I'm talking mostly game silver cause obviously in IDW and archie he got some LOVE there#even if we never saw idw silver actually explore his good future#which i still think is a shame but also apparently if sega doesn't want that to be explored in a comic and saved for the games then#THEY BETTER EXPLORE IT SOON#and honestly gameplay wise he needs another shot as well#like C'MON his psychic's just needed better...well...PSYCHIC'S TO WORK#can you imagine what cool and fun movement he'd have now that sega is now slowy understanding what kinda stuff they wanna do with#the sonic franchise again and how it should play#i don't know if i should fully expect a silver game at any point#but he should ATLEAST be a second main character in a new game so people can be reintroduced to him and they can cook with him#IM TIRED OF SEEING MY SON GETTING HATED ON OR CALLED LAME#I WANT PEOPLE TO BE REMINDED OR SHOWN HOW COOL AND FUN HE CAN BE WHEN GIVEN THE SPOTLIGHT#archie and idw are the best examples of him as a character#he is a lovable friend and ally#but serious when he can be character#and his powers are literally so COOL AND INHERENTLY UNIQUE AND POWERFUL COMPARED TO OTHER'S IN THE CAST#like when surge saw silver come in casually carrying a large object and she got nervous THAT'S WHAT IM TALKING ABOUT#THIS MAN CAN BE A THREAT.#okay rant over DHDNDNDB
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cryptcoop · 3 months ago
Note
re ur recent post:
dont stress too much! this is your blog and you can post whatever you want forever. people who dont leave can unfollow :)
im mega excited to see some oc art!! can you share some of your ocs that you want to start drawing more?
:-) I will share three. Something to keep in mind is I wont be sharing any bits of the story I deem too important to share (which is most of it) so most of what i share will be vague at best
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From left to right its:
Ripley Hampton, an ex district attorney from Seattle who abandoned her successful career after a mysterious set of circumstances causes her to reevaluate what makes her life meaningful.
Moira Fischer, one of Washington's leading surgeons, who loses her career after a devastating set back which leads to her life spiraling out of control in a desperate scramble to fix the mistakes she's made.
And Clover Haugen, who has recently moved to Washington to leave her life in Los Angeles behind her. After struggling to find work, she accepts a suspicious job offer to be Moira Fischer's intern. She's attempting to juggle keeping her life together whilst uncovering the mystery that's been weighing over the small town of Deluge for decades.
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draw-n-vent-with-imani · 3 months ago
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Something about Captain Barnacles being the biggest and strongest Octonaut tickles my brain
He's such a happy guy with hobbies out the wazoo
But he'd go through hell and back for his crew and probably play it off with a smile
he is a rock for the whole crew, and the crew is his rock
I'm still just in season 1, but he steals the show every time he comes on screen
Honestly I just love how well developed everyone is and how their dynamics blend so well. Barnacles strives to bring out the best in his crew and it's crazy how in the span of 23 episodes, he has had time to not just talk to but influence ALL the crew members.
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aroaceleovaldez · 4 months ago
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i would like to say my ideal PJO adaptation (if i was being physically forced against my will to have to pick a live action adaptation over an animated one for some reason) would be a combo like writing of the musical + casting of the show + visuals of the movies
BUT the show actually does have the playwright for the musical as one of the major writers for like three episodes and that did nothing for it. so...
#pjo#riordanverse#pjo tv crit#i do love the casting for the musical lots and lots though#it was really good#i do also have some nitpicks for show casting but they're largely inconsequential#like majority i very much enjoy and think are cast well#i only have one i'd say im actually disappointed with and that's Poseidon. idk he just feels. bland??? does that make sense?#like idk maybe it's the costuming but im not getting Sea God *or* Fishing Dad from him#like i think i kinda see what they were going for and i saw some gifs of him in another show where he plays a pirate and its like#okay. *little* bit better. but idk im just not getting Poseidon from it#in general most of the immortals in the show dont feel very Immortal(tm) but thats definitely mostly just the writing/show itself#not any reflection of the casting#my only other two are i would have liked plus sized Clarisse. i am VERY sad we didnt get that#Dior is a VERY good Clarisse though so i'm not too upset about it. i like her Clarisse energy. the yelling is fantastic.#my most controversial pjo tv take is im still meh on Walker. like he's fine. but like he's kind of Just Fine to me so far#its probably mostly the writing being bad but he hasnt grown on me as Percy yet. i can tell he has the energy though in interviews n stuff#and the main trio dynamic in interviews and stuff is *very* good. i just wish the show writing was better#because the casting IS very good but they have so little to work with. you can really tell theyre trying their best#i like to joke the show would be better if they just set the cast loose in the woods doing in-character improv#like its clear basically all of them know their characters SUPER well. id watch 8 episodes of in the woods pjo cosplay improv.
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kokorikopi · 6 months ago
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serasfanfiction · 6 months ago
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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3| Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15
"Lucy!"
Lucifer braced himself. Even with the preparation, Beelzebub hit him like a ton of bricks. He wrapped his arms around her neck, his wings coming out as she lifted them both off the ground and spun them around.
"You're here," she exclaimed, squeezing him tight enough that he could feel his ribs protesting. "You have missed so many parties! I thought we'd never see you again."
Lucifer giggled as her fur tickled his neck as she nuzzled his cheek. "Hiya, Bee." He instinctively tried to protect his neck from the cold, wet feeling of her nose as she snuffled his hair. "I, uh, had some things to work through."
Beelzebub bared her teeth, growling low in her chest. "I still can't believe she left! What a bitch!"
Lucifer wilted, Lilith's leaving a raw enough wound that all mentions of it making him want curl up and cry.
His sister paused, gauging his response. She brought them down to the ground, her hold turning into something more gentle. "I'm sorry, Lucy." She gave him a jostle. "You totally deserved better."
Lucifer didn't believe that for a moment, but he didn't want to spoil the mood anymore than he already had. Over his head, his siblings shared a glance. He hated they looked so worried, even as it soothed something along the jagged edges of his self-loathing.
"It's fine." It wasn't, but he was thoroughly subscribing to the delusion that if he said it enough times, it might make it true.
"You can talk to us if you need to." Beelzebub gave him another squeeze, almost as tight as the previous one. "You may be our big brother, but we're still your siblings."
Lucifer blinked, his eyes stinging. He looked up over the mass of her colorful hair to see Asmodeus watching them. It went without saying that the offer was extended from him as well. Lucifer couldn't bring himself to nod. The promise would feel disingenuous, as he was unsure if he was in a place to ever take them up on them offer. Sadness flickered across Asmodeus's face, knowing him too well.
Beelzebub seemed to understand as well. She pulled away, giving his shoulders one last squeeze before she let him go. She turned her sights on the sinner in the room, floating over to get a better view of him. By the time Lucifer was sure he'd blinked away any incriminating evidence of his emotional slip and was certain it was safe to turn around, Beelzebub had already reached her target.
"And who is this cute dear?" It was difficult to determine if she was using the endearment or the animal species name. With her, it could be either. She made a circuit around Alastor, coming up and over his head to hover at eye level with him. "Is this the guy you were talking about?"
Lucifer sputtered, dismayed. "Wait, what?" He spun around on Asmodeus, pointing at him. "When did you even talk about this? I heard that phone call!" It had done right in front of him! How did he miss that?
Fizzarolli held up his phone to show a series of text messages he couldn't read from this distance but could guess at their content. Judging from the smirk on his lover's face, it wasn't hard who had told him to do it.
Traitor! The whole lot of them!
Alastor turned on the charm, although unlike with Asmodeus and Fizz, it appeared to be at least somewhat genuine in this case. "Please, call me Alastor. It's a pleasure to meet you, your highness." If he was irritated with her fluttering around him, he didn't let it show. "From what I've heard, the famous Queen Bee's parties sound like all the rage!"
Beelzebub placed a finger to her chin, squinting her eyes as if racking her brain. "Alastor?" She said the name slowly, considering. She set herself down on the ground, studying him intently. Lucifer noted she had shrunk down in size to match the sinner's height. "The radio host?"
The redhead's demeanor became more amicable, his ego stroked, confirming jovially, "Why yes! It's an honor to hear someone such as yourself has heard of my show." He shot Lucifer a smug look, which in turn earned him a renewed glare.
The Sin of Gluttony waved her fingers at him. "I'm always looking for new music to play during parties." She danced to an imaginary beat, swaying her hips and doing a little twirl. She pointed in his general direction as she spun back around. "You've got good taste in music, if a little out of date."
Alastor wasn't offended by her critique, likely having heard it before. Perhaps emboldened by her positive engagement with him, he offered one of his own, "Perhaps, but music today sounds so..." He paused, searching for the right word. After a moments debate, he settle reluctantly on, "Repetitive."
From out of nowhere, a short clip of music played, emanating from Alastor's direction. The clip was followed by another clip, from a different song, and then a third one. They were all obviously different songs, but they did all sound remarkable the same.
"Wait." Beelzebub's eyes had widened. Alastor paused his flipping through channels on a random song. A male singer with the kind of voice that could make anyone swoon was singing about how he took his whiskey and coffee and how the subject of the song was 'too sweet' for him. She gave Alastor another circle around. "You can generate music yourself?" She clasped her hands together in delight.
The redhead cut off the music, amused by her response. He clarified, "I can act like a radio, my dear. I sadly can't produce music out of nowhere."
Beelzebub threw her older brother a grin over her shoulder. "Lucy, you don't mind if I steal your partner later, do you?"
Lucifer, who had been watching all of this with stiffly crossed arms and an ever darkening glare, scoffed. He just knew this was going to become an issue and already could see the headlines come the next morning. "He's not my anything, Bee. Really."
To Alastor's discernment, Beelzebub sniffed the air far too close to the sinner for her to be doing anything other than catching his scent. Vindictively, Lucifer couldn't help but smirk and think to himself that, yeah, it's not as much fun when someone does it to him, was it? Little taste of his own medicine.
Then she asked, "Then why is his scent all over you?"
Lucifer's hands flew to his hair, belatedly realizing how telling the movement was. He didn't care. What the hell? He'd not only cleaned up last night with magic, he'd even gone for a shower out of the desperate need to swath himself in the comforting smells of his favorite shampoo and body wash. Nothing of Alastor should have remained.
Alastor had that pleased as punch grin on his insufferable, punchable face.
Lucifer hissed like the snake everyone called him, angerly pointing a finger at the asshole. "Take him! I don't want him!"
"Now now, your Majesty, what would Charlie do without her business partner?" Alastor's tone was all sunshine and roses, as if anyone would believe that for an instant.
Behind him, Lucifer heard Fizzarolli whispering to Ozzie, almost (but not quite) too soft him to hear, "Stealing his daughter's business partner? That's ballsy."
Lucifer must have looked one wrong move away from setting the whole building on fire because Beelzebub came floating over to him, saying, "Lucy, why don't we get you that new top?" She placed her hands on his shoulders and directed him out of sight of the main source of all his current woes. "I've always wanted to try some outfits with you!"
"It still needs to be formal," he said, imagining all the outfits she'd worn over the years. They always managed to be both with the times while also being on the cutting edge of what was appropriate.
She pinched his cheek. "Yes, yes, because you're somehow covering up more rather than less." She didn't ask nor did she attempt to find out why. He was ridiculously grateful for it. She produced a slew of garments from her own personal subspace dimension.
Lucifer tried not to sweat over the sheer quantity of them.
Alastor hadn't been wrong when he'd said they had time before the main event, but they didn't have enough for the quantity Beelzebub had brought. Lucifer was able to eliminate roughly half based on the fact they they did fit his aesthetic. His sister didn't look surprised by the choices he outright eliminated, leading him to believe they were there simply because she would have found enjoyment out of seeing him wearing them.
He held up one top from his remaining pile. It was a two-piece top, consisting of a fancy button-up shirt with poofy sleeves and a sleeveless waistcoat that could be laced up at the waist for a more form-fitting look. It wasn't bad, he was so going to steal it for a later day, but there was something... boyish about it. He eyed his sister. "Are you trying to tell me something?" He shook the garment for emphasis.
Beelzebub wasn't even trying to look sheepish. "Only that you'd look adorable in it!"
No one had called him adorable since he'd still had an unbroken halo and a full set of white wings. To his face, anyway. "You do remember I'm not a doll for you to play dress up with, right?"
She picked up a top with a similar vibe to it. "But you're as pretty as one, so how could I resist?"
Alastor looked like he'd swallowed a lemon or one of Asmodeus's more phallic candies. Lucifer filed that thought away for another time.
He sent the top away to his wardrobe in his room at the hotel with a small spark of magic the moment Beelzebub wasn't looking. Listening to the conversations going on around him with only half an ear, he snagged another potential choice, only to toss it aside almost immediately. A knock at the door brought an issue for Asmodeus and Fizzarolli, calling them away with the promise they'd be back shortly.
Beelzebub and Alastor became engaged in a discussion about music, not quite arguing which time period was better. Beelzebub had all of human history to pull from, but it was quickly established she preferred anything someone could dance to.
Alastor had a soft spot for Jazz, as it was the music that followed him throughout his early adult years to the end of his life. He admitted to liking some of the music that evolved from Jazz, such as swing music.
He was down to the final two potential choices - a toss up between a very high neck coat that flared in the sleeves and a more form fitting, corseted, button up tailcoat - when he heard Beelzebub's delighted exclamation of: "You can tune into Earth stations? Have you heard of XM radio?"
The seraphim blinked up at them, as Alastor responded with, "But of course, your highness! Everyone loves a radio station without commercials!"
Lucifer wondered at the full extent of Alastor's reach. Hell was supposed to be cut off from Earth and Heaven, save for specific circumstances. It was one thing to use a crystal or spell to open a portal to Earth. To walk in the dreams of humans as they slept to communicate and influence them. It was another thing entirely to actively reach through that barrier as if it wasn't there to begin with, tuning into any radio station on Earth. Something Alastor could apparently do with ease, as demonstrated by the sound of dance music, something heavily remixed, filling the air.
Beelzebub made a noise that could only be called a squeal, her fingers twitching like she was ready to make off with the sinner the first chance she got.
So distracted by the display, Lucifer didn't immediately notice that one of his hands were empty. Fingers flexing around air, he narrowed his eyes when he found the tailcoat in the grasp of one of Alastor's shadows.
"You were taking so long to choose, your Majesty," Alastor explained innocently. "I thought I might help you choose."
Feeling spiteful, Lucifer snapped the fingers of his free hand, simultaneously sending the coat with the flared sleeves away to his wardrobe while replacing his cashmere roll neck with the tailcoat.
Alastor, the little shit, merely smirked at him. Lucifer didn't like the fact that he couldn't tell if he had done exactly what the sinner had wanted him to do or not.
The doors to the office opened, signaling the return of Asmodeus and Fizzarolli. Both of their shoulders slumped in relief when the door closed firmly behind them.
"Someone blow something up again?" Beelzebub asked, sympathetically.
"I swear, this group can't go one day without blowing something up!" Asmodeus sighed, deep and long suffering. "They didn't even have the excuse of it being a prototype."
Both of his siblings made consoling hums at him. Asmodeus' attention turned to his older brother, a smile breaking out on his face when he saw Lucifer had changed clothes. "Lucy! Marvelous choice!" He paused, tilting his head. "Not really the colors I would expect from you."
That was mostly because Lucifer hadn't had a chance to fiddle with it. He smiled back, waving a hand over the top. The original coat had been forest green, with black buckles, and silver buttons. Forest green bleed out into pure white. The corset center of the coat was now his favored pink, while the buttons and buckles took on a shiny golden hue. He pondered the length of the tail, unsure if he found it too long or not. Deciding to leave it for now, he conjured his hat and cane from his room, topping off his outfit as he placed his crown on his head.
Feeling more himself, despite the change in wardrobe, he grinned. "What do you think?"
Asmodeus, Beelzebub, and Fizzarolli all gave approving thumbs up.
Alastor gave him a once over, smirking and unimpressed. "I suppose it's a little better than that ringleader ensemble you're so obsessed with."
Lucifer's eyebrow twitched, stalking over to the sinner. "You're on thin ice, bitch," he said saccharine sweet through gritted teeth.
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Alastor watched him approach, his smirk a challenge.
Lucifer met it with one of his own. "Now I think it's your turn for a make over." He gave the sinner a lazy once over, pointedly lingering on the tattered ends of the redhead's coat. "Can't have my date in anything other than the best."
Alastor's expression darkened, almost imperceptivity. "I can't say I know what you mean, your Majesty. I always look my best." This last part was said with the undertone of a warning, not for an agreement, but to back off.
Lucifer considered the response. If anyone could recognize someone's pride having been slighted, it was the Sin of Pride himself. Alastor's pride had been poked at, but the seraphim wasn't immediately certain why. The sinner did indeed dress to impress every day, the haircut and the tattered ends of his coat too out of place not to be anything other than deliberate. So why was he upset?
The answer came from the depths he liked to keep the memories he acquired from reading one of his people's sins: the foundation of Alastor's public persona was one large middle finger to a world that had held him to a higher standard than everyone else around him, and yet, had still found him wanting at the end of the day. It was as much a defense as a way to gain a leg up against the people in power around him.
Lucifer took a step back, lessening the pressure of his approach. He asked, "Do you have anything for a formal occasion?"
A little of the tension left Alastor's stance, now that he didn't feel that he was potentially going to be accosted. "Events in Hell don't usually require a more ...formal dress attire." In other words: sinners dressed however they were going to dress and that was that. One was lucky if they chose to get dressed at all.
Still leaving all the choice in the redhead's court, the blond asked, "Can I make you a tuxedo? If you don't like it, I'll change it back." He paused, before tacking on, "I promise." It wasn't a formal deal, but he tried to keep his promises where he could.
Alastor seemed to be weighing his options, his fingers tapping against the top of his microphone. He could chose to take the offer or he could chose to go as he was, nothing more nothing less. The sinner approached on his own, pacing around his king, his gaze equal parts considering and lost in thought. "Something in my current colors," he finally responded. "If I don't like it, you change it."
Lucifer chose to be pleased that he was being given access to Alastor's person. When the redhead came to a stop in front of him, he raised his hand, keeping it in eye sight the whole time. Alastor picked up on his caution, something fond taking root in his expression. The moment Lucifer's fingers touched the helm of Alastor's sleeve, a golden flame sparked into existence.
Pure creation magic spread like a wave across the red suit, transforming it as it went along. Pin stripes were replaced by red wool of the same color, fine black thread woven into the fabric to cast the illusion that the fabric was darker from some angles. The lapels of the coat were folded back to reveal a completely black interior. A vest and pair of pants of similar design took shape. Underneath the vest, a pure white button up shirt stood out, bright and stark against the otherwise darker colors. The only thing Lucifer hadn't touched was Alastor's black bow tie.
He tiled his head, feeling there was something missing. An idea, born of random inspiration and the desire to uphold his promise to his daughter, took shape in Lucifer's mind. In one hand, a flame of creation magic appeared, raw and undirected. In the other, he formed a flame of pure hellfire. Holding the idea in his mind, he slammed his palms together. The two flames intermingled, eating at each other as they fought to either consume or transform the other. Lucifer bent the two forces to his will, forcing them to come together and take on the shape he desired: something wholly new.
When he opened his hands, sitting on his palms was a gem, one of a kind. As it tilted, the surface reflected back at him like black glass, until it settled to reveal a light within it, gleaming of hellfire. If one were to blow out all of the blue flames that lit the office, the gem would continue to give off a glow of its own. Most importantly, woven into the very fabric of the gem were powerful protection spells, ones that would protect the wearer from someone as strong as the Sins of the Goetia. It might even protect them from an archangel, although not for long.
If Alastor had been wearing this during the previous extermination, it would have likely given Adam a moment's pause. More than enough for the sinner to escape unscathed. Not that Alastor would have run, but still.
The sinner in question eyed the gem as the Devil raised it to his bowtie, securing it in place. Alastor shouldn't have the power necessary to tell what it really was. Some of the Goetia might. Anyone of them that did would know what kind of statement he was making by placing it there. It was a more physical reminder that this sinner was under his protection and he wouldn't take kindly to anyone trying to kill him.
Asmodeus and Beelzebub could tell what it was. The former was silently laughing at him, while the latter covered her mouth to hide her grin, for all the good it did.
Lucifer ignored them. He was merely keeping his promise, nothing more.
Alastor tapped the gem, the chime unlike anything he'd ever heard before. His hand traveled down his sleeve. "Wool?" There was a slight crease to his brows, unsure with the assessment.
Lucifer didn't have the slightest clue how he could tell, since the redhead was still wearing his gloves. Was Alastor pressing the cloth into his arms and could tell that way? The blonde took a step back, nodding. "Yes, vicuña wool, to be exact."
The sinner went still, his ears ramrod straight. "Vicuña wool?" His eyes were boring right into Lucifer's, something heavy in his gaze.
The blond found it difficult to tell if the reaction was a good one or a bad one. He'd chosen it because humans seemed to place great value on the wool for it's rareness and the quality of the fabric it produced. Once only for kings, only the wealthy could afford more than one garment. He largely only knew this because Asmodeus was a fan of the fabric and had raved about it on the odd occasion.
Lucifer waggled his eyebrows. "I said I'd dress you in the best, did I not?" He still felt there was something missing, not from Alastor's outfit this time, but his own. Hand aglow with his magic, he met the redhead's gaze and held it as he ran his hand down the center of the tailcoat, transforming the pink section into red.
The same red as Alastor's favored suit and current tuxedo.
The sinner huffed, the brewing conflict passing for something more possessive. He raised a hand, a single claw tapping the fabric that hid the mark he'd left. "Isn't matching color schemes as much a statement as this would have been?" His expression stated he thought Lucifer was a ridiculous creature, but he was bemused regardless.
Lucifer caught his wrist, holding on long enough to pull it away. "Didn't agree to be your property," he repeated, teeth bared in light warning.
Alastor wasn't affected, as always.
They were both startled by the loud clapping of someone's hands. All heads turned to Beelzebub, who was grinning brightly at them all. "Alright! Fashion crisis averted!" She slung her arm around her older brother's shoulders in a hug, squeezing tightly before releasing him just as quickly. "I will see all of you at the party! Got to get ready myself and then pick up the boyfriend and girlfriend!!"
She portalled out of the room before anyone could get any remark out. Lucifer mouthed 'boyfriend and girlfriend,' bewildered as to when that had happened.
Fizzarolli blinked after her. "Do you think she's going to bring anything fun with her?"
Asmodeus gave him a very light push, little more than a nudge. "Fizzy! We do not want everyone to get black out drunk in the first hour!"
The imp gave his partner a deadpan look. "Just because they can't hold their liquor doesn't mean the rest of us have to suffer."
Asmodeus chuckled as he made his way over to Alastor and Lucifer. "Lucy, brother, would you make a portal to our home?" He pulled out his cellphone. "By the time the limo arrives, we should be ready."
Fizzarolli snorted. "Speak for yourself." He dramatically pressed a hand to his forehead, demonstrating his flexibility as he swooned backwards over his partner's shoulder. "Some of us have to put a little effort into it to be this beautiful."
"Aw, Fizzy, baby, you look amazing no matter what you wear." Asmodeus followed this statement up by running a finger along the underside of the imp's chin, causing Fizzarolli to giggle.
Being the sin of Pride, Lucifer could sense the dual war in his little brother's chosen partner. Fizzarolli did indeed have his pride, he couldn't be a performer of his caliber without it. He knew his talent and his worth, but underneath it lay a wound so deep it threatened to overwhelm all of it. Asmodeus' words were an ongoing healing balm, like cool, clean water over a burn.
It was... sweet.
Lucifer swallowed the envy he felt watching them, missing the warmth that came from a loving relationship. Love looked good on Asmodeus and Fizzarolli was certainly flourishing from it as well.
He opened the portal, tempted to make a comment about them just using his own limo. It was practically Charlie's at this point for all that he ever used it. When one could just teleport or portal or simply fly to their destination, why wait to drive there? The suggestion died in his throat as Asmodeus passed him, pushing him along with them. The weight of his hand was heavy, as if he could keep his older brother there with him just by holding on to him.
Lucifer supposed he could stick around a little longer and ride with them. Leave the public guessing when he was going to pop up and from where.
He glanced over his shoulder to make certain Alastor was still with them. The sinner was stepping through the portal, taking in the new room they had travelled to. There wasn't anywhere truly 'safe' to jump to unannounced, if Asmodeus was at home, but he usually kept high traffic, potentially public areas clean of anything suggestible if he was going to work. Lucifer chose the kitchen because it was as safe as anywhere else, and he and Alastor would be able to get any snacks or drinks for themselves while they waited.
Not that Alastor was likely to have much of an appetite after his indulgence the day before.
It pleased Lucifer on a petty, vindictive level to see the taller figure in this particular setting. Everything was set up to be a comfortable height for someone as tall as Asmodeus. The counter tops likely were too tall for Fizzarolli to see over, if he never took advantage of his stretchy limbs to add on some height. Alastor's head and shoulders might clear the countertops, but there was no way he was reaching any of the top shelves without going full eldritch demon or without the assistance of his shadows.
What did the foot the redhead have on him matter when they were all lacking in height in this setting?
Lucifer closed the portal behind the sinner. Asmodeus and Fizzarolli wandered off deeper into the dwelling with the former telling them to "Make yourselves at home!" as they went off, likely to their bedroom. The king listened to their voices for as long as he could, keeping a watchful eye out as Alastor explored the new space.
He smirked upon seeing the exact moment the sinner realized the tips of his ears weren't on level with the bottom of the cabinets, the sinner lazily blinking at them like he found their placement ridiculous. He might have asked if Alastor needed any assistance, if not for the fact that even he could tell that would be walking right into a short joke. Instead, he simply conjured a pair of glasses as he settled in at the table taking up the center of the kitchen. "Care for anything to drink while we wait?" He filled his own with juice, waving the second empty one in invitation.
Alastor peered over at him from where he had moved on to inspecting a potted floral arrangement made up of one Lust Ring's indigenous flora, a plant with blue leaves tipped with purple. His eyes tracked the movement of the glass. "Wouldn't cake be more beneficial in this instance, sire?" His grin extended from ear to ear, teeth alight from within. "Wouldn't want to get any shorter, now would we?"
The reference almost went over his head. Of course he'd somehow find a way to throw in a short joke. Lucifer leaned an elbow on the table, crossing his legs. "Please, I'm hardly the white rabbit." He placed the glass on table. Alastor could take it or leave it. "And you're certainly no Alice."
Alastor abandoned the plant in favor of stalking over to Lucifer and the table. He tapped the lip of the glass, and then abandoned as just as uninteresting as the plant. The floor to ceiling window on the other side of the kitchen, however, seemed to catch his interest. "No," he agreed. Moving as if entranced, he made his way over to it. "I've always thought the Cheshire Cat suited be better."
He was certainly as annoying one, anyway.
Lucifer could only guess how different the blues and pinks of the Lust Ring must look after nearly a hundred years of the constant red of the Pride Ring. The radio host, in his own shades of red and black, stood out like a sore thumb, almost like a reminder of which of the rings he belonged to. His ears were completely forward, intent on catching the soft patter of the rain against the glass.
"Would his Majesty be willing to answer a little question?" Alastor met his gaze through his reflection against the glass.
Lucifer swirled his juice. His first impulse was to put stipulations on the exchange. Milking information out of the sinner usually cost something, why shouldn't getting information from the Devil cost the same? But Lucifer didn't have the energy to stoop to the sinner's level at the moment, so he decided to go with generous. "Depends on the question."
To a point.
He wasn't sure what he was expecting, but it wasn't for Alastor to ask, "Does it always rain in the Lust Ring?"
"Yes?" Lucifer was more than a little baffled over why such a thing might interest Alastor, until he remembered that the only rain in the Pride Ring was acid rain. It tainted the water until the only safe sources were those kept safe from any access to the open sky. Anyone unlucky enough to be out in it would likely receive some nasty burns. "Oh, it's not acid rain. Only the Pride Ring has acid rain." The Greed Ring was certainly working it's way towards it, though.
Black tipped, red ears twisted 90 degrees around, Alastor being more focused on the little king than the rain. "And what makes the Pride Ring so special?"
The blonde gave a low grumble of disapproval. "Seems like you have more than one question."
Alastor pointed the head of his staff out into the room, circling it around to showcase it's emptiness. "Would you prefer I poke around your little brother's kitchen to pass the time?" His tone suggested he would absolutely make sure to mess with something, just to be a nuisance.
Lucifer had half a mind to let him do it, just to see what would happen if he did. He sighed, put upon by choices that had led him to babysitting a sinner in his little brother's home. "Hell didn't look much like anything when we got here." He put his drink down, loosing all interest in it. "It wasn't originally meant to be our prison. It was just convenient to throw us into it."
It had been decided from the moment Eve had bitten into the apple that anyone who allowed themselves to be consumed by the Root of All Evil's influences would be tossed down to join her in her prison. Foreseeing it would get bad, God had decided that Lucifer's punishment was to be trapped with the worst of the worst, forced to watch all the ways his decision had gone terribly wrong.
"When my siblings and I recovered, we joined our powers together to create the other rings." He nodded to the window, more a nod to the Rings as a whole than just Lust in general. "Lilith and I stayed in Pride. She wanted to be with her people." He paused. Amended, albeit grudgingly, "Our people. My siblings each headed south and claimed a ring for themselves."
He was a bit fuzzy on the early details following their arrival in Hell. Lucifer had been terribly injured in the fight leading up to their imprisonment, and then further injured protecting Lilith from the Fall. His siblings, each dealing with their own injuries, hadn't been able to lend a helping hand. The moment Lucifer had been recovered enough to help with making their new home more comfortable, he'd proceeded to push too hard, too fast, creating the Seven Rings all at once rather than one at a time. They had tried to warn him to take it easy, to slow down, but he had been desperate to do something right by his family. Even with the added help of his siblings' power, he'd gone down hard.
By the time he regained consciousness, the first sinners had already begun to arrive and his siblings had already moved into their respective rings. Everything had been decided with very little impute from him. Considering how exhausted he'd been, both physically and emotionally, it had been easier to go with the flow. He hadn't cared either way, to be brutally honest about it.
Alastor looked like he could tell there was more to that story, but let it go. "And the Hellborn?"
Lucifer shrugged. "They were already here when we got here." Belphegor had speculated that the Hellborn were Roo's response to humanity, but she hadn't been able to prove it. As time passed, the natural flora and fauna of Hell had evolved and expanded exponentially with the introduction of different environments, until there were multiple different species of both. Earth evolved slowly over time, but Hell evolved in leaps and bounds. "We did start getting different types over time, though."
"And human's being delegated to the Pride Ring?" There was something about the tone that suggested that this had been the question Alastor had been working up to all along.
The blonde pushed back from the table, rising to his feet. He came over to stand behind his date for the night, just to the side enough to see out the window. "An agreement between Lilith and my siblings." He tapped the apple end of his cane against his chin. "It seemed like a good idea at the time."
Mostly to keep down the fighting between the Hellborn and the sinners. Humans were innovative creatures and putting the worse of the worse in one place together was always going to be a recipe for disaster. The Hellborn hadn't stood a chance. Now the sinners fought primarily with themselves, while the Hellborn lived lives as varied as humans did on Earth.
Alastor fell silent. For a while, they simply stood listening to the rain, lost in their own thoughts. Lucifer thought he might be content to mull over the new information he had received, when he broke the silence to ask, "The acid rain?"
"A present from Heaven." From behind them, Asmodeus answered before his brother could, his voice an unhappy rumble. Alastor turned to face the sin, while Lucifer left his back to his little brother. Asmodeus approached, setting his hand on Lucifer's shoulder. His hand was large enough it encompassed the blonde's shoulder and the upper part of his back. "Michael thought Lucy's kingdom was looking too nice."
"A nice way of saying Michael was still angry at me." Lucifer internally grimaced at the memory of his twin's face, distorted in anger, at the way Lilith was thriving. That Lucifer wasn't doing anything to curb it. As if he ever would. "He thought making Hell more difficult to survive would curb everyone's spirits." He snorted. "Jokes on him, because they only infected the Pride Ring and humanity is... stubborn."
It was an admirable quality, even if it often got them into trouble. It was something Lucifer could relate to.
Lucifer shook off the thoughts before they dragged him down into too much of a melancholic mood. He already had to deal with the public and it wouldn't do if he couldn't even last more than an hour with them. He stepped away, turning as he did so that he could get a look at his brother. Asmodeus had changed into a suit similar to his usual one. The colors were more vibrant and he had added a business coat over it.
Fizzarolli, notably, wasn't on his shoulder.
Noticing where Lucifer was looking, Asmodeus laughed. "Fizzy needs a little more time." He began to usher his older brother towards the door, Alastor following of his own violation least the sin decide to get the idea of getting handsy with him. "It's his first time out in public since giving Mammon the literal finger and he wants to put on his best." As they neared the main entrance to Asmodeus' home, the sin called out towards the bedroom, "Fizzy Frog! Babe! You picked out your outfit a week ago!"
From the bedroom came the shout of, "But Ozzie! It needs to be perfect!" Fizzarolli appeared a moment later. The imp was wearing a white laced jester styled outfit, fitted with a laced up bodice that was black on one side and red on the other. His hat matched his bodice, with the colors switched, while being white underneath. Similarly, the hearts adorning his shoulders and forehead alternated the red and black pattern. "I need to look badass."
Asmodeus could move fast for someone his height, when he wanted to. He cleared the room in nearly two strides, picking his partner up. "Fizz, you look amazing. No one is going to say other wise."
Fizzarolli didn't appear completely convinced. "I just don't want anyone to talk shit about you if I don't."
He received a pat to the nose with a single finger and a no nonsense tone from Asmodeus, "The only person you need to impress at this event is yourself." The blue and pink sin hugged him close. "No one else's opinions matter."
Fizzarolli took a deep breathe, his anxiety visibly calming. "You're right!" He grinned, his whole expression lighting up. "And if they don't like me, who cares? Because I don't need them!"
Asmodeus beamed at him. "Exactly!" He made his way over, ready to shuffle everyone out the door. "Now where is that limo?"
Right on cue, a horn blasted outside.
Lucifer allowed himself to be shuffled outside, casting a glance at Alastor as the human-turned-demon got his first feel of normal rain since he'd died. The sinner held out a hand, cupped it to catch the water. Nostalgia softened the sharp edges of his smile into a more real one. Lucifer turned away when Alastor stepped out fully, tilting his head back to enjoy the feel of the rain on his face.
Lucifer refused to admit that Alastor was actually kind of handsome, when he was being honest with himself and the world.
The ride through Lust and then up to Pride was filled with small talk and blessedly uneventful. Lucifer, Asmodeus, and Fizzarolli had all been through the various ways to travel the Rings, so they were more interested in their conversation than the sights. Having never left the Pride Ring before, Alastor was more absorbed with the sights than their attempts to include him. He gave off the distinct impression that even if the sights hadn't been more interesting, he likely wouldn't have engaged with them anyway.
Lucifer could feel the uptick in his nerves as they entered the Pride Ring and the closer they got to Stolas' manor. The crowd of people outside, wanting to catch any glimpse of Hell's royals were lined up a mile away, all climbing over each other on the slimmest chance they would catch a glimpse of someone. The paparazzi had managed to secure the area closest to the drop off point, ensuring they would get the first photographs of the arriving guests.
A weight settled on the nap of his neck, the prick of one of Alastor's claws just above his high collar stealing Lucifer's attention before he could begin to spiral and reminding him that he wasn't alone. The mix of gratefulness and frustration was a heady feeling in his gut, even as he leaned subtly back into that hand.
The wait until it was their turn to disembark was both far too short and far too long. A portion of the crowd was especially intent on following Asmodeus' limo, the reason made all too easy to sus out.
Lucifer squinted at the signs, pointing at a particularly graphic one. "Are those... fans?"
Fizzarolli was a equal mix of put upon and repulsed. "Yeah, Mammon isn't very big on keeping boundaries between his cash cows and the... fans."
Visible through the crowd, the same fan - fanatic, rather - proceeded to do something extremely lude and inappropriate with what appeared to be a doll version of the jester.
Heaven was very dull and boring, Lucifer would never tell anyone otherwise, but he sure did miss it at times like this.
tbc
Part 16
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atrophiedemotion · 4 months ago
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ivan & the weagein
i don't think that's how it's spelled but i'm taking it straight from patreon so
one of my favorite bits of ivan's character that i wish was talked about more is his relationship with the weagein at anakt garden. so i wanted to give my two cents on it and why i think he was fond of it & his reasons for staging the confrontation (as well as how his view of till was shaped by it).
why did ivan befriend the waegein?
when ivan was young, he had yet to create and adopt his effortlessly charming persona he uses in his later years. he likely didn't think it was worth it at that age especially when he was already planning to escape. he's largely silent, unapproachable, and generally a bit unnerving. ivan is different than his peers, doesn't experience emotion in the same way and can't understand why/how they feel things or how to communicate as efficiently.
i'm certain he's aware of this, and anyone in this situation (no matter how unaffected they may appear) would start to feel at least a bit like an outcast and like something was wrong with them. ivan did not fit in with the other kids at anakt, so it makes complete sense to me that he would see himself in the waegein.
a guard 'dog' that is only meant to scare other creatures. horrifying and monstrous. kept in a place for a single purpose and assumedly not given much autonomy. treated as lesser than creatures that are the same species as it.
i believe ivan saw himself in the waegein, and took comfort in its presence and existence because he felt a commonality with it that he doesn't feel with his peers. he felt he could be himself around it and not get judged for it. he grows close to it (in a way i imagine would be similar to slowly befriending a feral cat who bites) and bonds with it so well he can be physically close to it. i wouldn't be surprised if the waegein felt similarly seen, honestly.
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why did ivan stage till & mizi's confrontation with the waegein?
wellll i think there are a few reasons. these could exist separately, but i personally feel that it's a combination of the three.
ivan needed to show/prove to till that anakt garden is just as dangerous as the outside world.
he wanted to gauge other human's fear response and reaction in general to something they would consider dangerous/scary.
he wanted to test how till in particular would react to danger.
reason one - proving anakt was dangerous
ivan, presumably, knows from the beginning that anakt is not a safehaven or the ideal place for humans to be 'raised'. we can assume this from context clues and his charcter in general, but i think it's a safe assumption. he knows that there's a real world out there, somewhere with the real sun and the real stars and no aliens.
he wants to escape and he wants to take till with him, so he needs to show him that the world they're being forced to live in is just as dangerous and, worse- has hidden horrors as opposed to outright ones. the only way till would actually be willing to run away would be to show him firsthand how much danger they're in. telling him isn't enough, till has to experience it himself (till would never take ivan's word i think lmao).
reason two - gauging fear response/reaction
this one's pretty self explanatory- since ivan does not experience emotions in the way most people do, he learns via the reactions of the people around him so he can mirror them. life or death fear isn't something they're really faced with at anakt, so he needs to set up the situation himself. it's basically a science experiment lmfao
reason three - studying till
ivan is already interested in till at this point, since the timeline isn't exactly in the order shown to us. he's enraptured by till's explosive show of emotions and the way he essentially wears his heart on his sleeve, because that's not something ivan can even begin to comprehend. it would make sense that he'd want to see how till, another person he sees as different from their classmates but in the opposite way of himself, would react to something ivan doesn't blink twice at.
with all this being said, i feel like i can somewhat safely say that ivan is probably both confident in the fact that the waegein will not genuinely attack till & mizi and relatively uncaring if it does. the likelihood of them dying is low, ivan most likely had contingency plans in place, but i also don't think he feels remorse or guilt as much as he feels shame. (but that's for another day)
okay i was going to into how this event shaped the way ivan saw and felt about till & the correlation with the meteor shower but this is already very long so i will make a separate post talking about that and link it here when im done lmao
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sensitiveheartless · 2 years ago
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I feel like being in the Port Mafia was bad for Dazai in the same way that being in the bath house was a bad thing for No-Face in Spirited Away.
Like…that scene towards the end of the movie where Chihiro takes No-Face to see Zeniba, and No-Face calms down and starts spinning and knitting, entirely peaceful? And No-Face decides to stay with her because it’s a better environment for him, one which won’t encourage his worst tendencies? That’s kind of what the agency is for Dazai. Dazai tends to reflect the people around him just as much as No-Face does—which is why I think being around Fyodor 24/7 in the current arc has not been a good thing for him, mentally speaking. But in the agency Dazai is surrounded by kind people, and he changes and becomes a bit better, just like Oda thought he would.
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peach-pot · 9 months ago
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if you have an explanation for why please please share it!
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rmbunnie · 6 months ago
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Another little inconsequential red hood thing and I'll admit that I'm decently biased but it irks me to see the whole "Jason can't shut up about his death/he makes his death everyone else's problem" take really frequently because he simply does not do that enough for it to be a thing in like any actual Red Hood story.
It's a thing you see sometimes in modern annuals/comics with large casts, particularly if a writer doesn't seem super confident with writing all of the characters that they're working with or if he's just a background character in this one, because with comics it's quicker to reduce a character to recognizable landmarks than to try and work out a whole new complex voice if you don't really need to, so it's tire iron, Jane Austen, Joker, and death, and it's all written out in dialogue because every character in a group event can't have their own internal monologue, but like. That's pretty much it. UTRH is the establishing event for Jason Todd post death so of course a lot of it is about his death, although it's arguably about the lack of response to his death more than his death itself, and he certainly makes it Bruce's issue but one beef doesn't make a trend. Plus if his death is anyone's issue beyond his own Bruce and Joker are like the number one guys whose issue it is. He THINKS about his death a ton in Lost Days, but it doesn't really reflect externally on any of his interactions besides with Joker, which again, that's justified and relevant beef. Teen Titans 29 is more about his place in the hero community/feeling like he was an outsider even before the bomb/Tim being the new robin than about his death, and side note, that being counted as an attempt on Tim's life also bugs me. He beat him up and then left of his own volition. That's not an assassination attempt its called a fight, albeit a sneaky and unfair one. But anyways. I can't speak on Battle for the Cowl because i haven't read it, both that and Batman and Robin 2009 don't really compel me, but it's entirely possible that's an outlier to my point seeing as I kinda sorta haven't read it and don't care to lmao. Even New 52 (although HIGHLY unpopular) and Rebirth/Dawn of DC/Whatever we're doing now Red Hood content don't really have him talking to people about it besides the occasional little quips. He might make stances that were developed because of his death other people's problem, like in the Mia Dearden Green Arrow situation with the "getting involved in other people's business" issue, but acting like he makes specifically his death everyone else's problem is ignoring all of the perfectly valid actually canon things he makes other people's problem. Most of the unpleasant traits he brings to the table are a result of his death and the sense of abandonment and betrayal that came with it, but that doesn't mean he's bringing his death into it when he acts unpleasantly any more than he's bringing his birth into it when he shows up in the first place. The consequences do not equal the event. All this to say it's irritating when people say the character is grating because he doesn't stop whining about his death when that kinda just indicates to me that they're working off fanon based on fanon based on kinda mid batman annual.
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