#that or where the plans for the artificial leviathan are

[sepublic]

            I want the Metroids in a hypothetical show to ultimately come across as tragic figures; Beings who were made to be exploited, and that’s what happened to them their whole life as a species between their creation and extermination.

            They were created by the Chozo to destroy the X, they were used by the Space Pirates as a bioweapon; In other episodes, we see additional parties like the Kriken Empire, or Kanden, attempt to capture Metroids for their usage. The Space Pirates set a few loose on the Ing while exploring Dark Aether, and it ends with some of those Metroids being possessed. Not to mention the Phazon corruption, where they end up as vectors of Phaaze, and the Federation’s corruption. We still have yet to see whatever dynamic Sylux might have with their Metroid, which is devoted to them on a self-sacrificial level…

            It’s a recurring thread throughout the story named after them that the Metroids are seen as a tool for others to use, and they’re deeply effective at whatever that purpose is; But they never really get a say in things, do they? There is no real say or agency, they’re being fought over a lot of the time, either by Space Pirates or the Federation, or by Samus against some group that wants to weaponize Metroids, so her responsibility is to destroy whatever Metroids have been captured.

            The only real exception to this is Dark Samus; In a way, she kinda reclaimed autonomy after being imprisoned and used by the Space Pirates. In a way, she brings about a certain liberation for her fellow Metroids, the only creatures she’s known to be sympathetic towards; Under her command, the Metroids are far less restricted, and the Space Pirates live in fear of occasionally being targeted as a meal.

            But Dark Samus is still a vector of Phaaze, as I’ve said; So maybe she doesn’t have so much free will after all, maybe this isn’t the Metroids’ revolution. She took control of Phaaze, and planned to sacrifice it; But that was to create more Leviathan seeds, so what difference would it make for a selfless, hivemind organism like Phazon?

            I’m rolling with the idea that Metroid Prime was THE original Metroid that the Marina’s crew found on SR388 and brought back to the known galaxy; The one the Space Pirates used to breed an entire generation of Metroids that Samus and the Federation systematically hunted down, until they were eradicated from that sector of space. Maybe Dark Samus' last lines in a show are not screams of agony, but... Just a simple confession; That she was happy roaming the wilderness of her home, only to have that taken from her as she was made into a weapon, and then a true monster, by the mis/handling of others who didn't care for her.

            Dark Samus had to die, as did Phaaze because like Mother Brain it was a load-bearing component for an invasive life form. Similarly, a lot of the moral justification for killing Metroids was that they were an invasive species; It was not yet discovered that they were artificial bioweapons. Not only was it imperative to protect ecosystems from an invasive threat, but there was obviously a native population thriving where they originally evolved from, and in their true home, Metroids could always live on.

            But then the Federation rediscovered SR388’s location, after the Marina’s Deleter had destroyed that knowledge to keep the Space Pirates from using it. And now the cat was out of the bag, it was only a matter of time before the Space Pirates learned where the Metroid homeworld was, and took advantage of that. The galaxy had survived two Metroid crises, a third was unimaginable. But the Metroids surely deserved to live within their own natural environment, weren’t they entitled to this as living creatures?

            Ultimately, the Federation came to a hard moral conclusion; The wellbeing of the larger galaxy mattered more than one species on one planet, which could still bounce back from their eradication, so the Federation thought. As Adam Malkovich put it, for others to live, some must die; And the Metroids were sacrificed, despite never knowing the situation nor agreeing to it, and how could they as animals who instinctually want to survive? That choice was made for them by others.

            Samus started off pretty unsympathetic, understandably so; She’d experienced firsthand the devastation of the Metroid, barely surviving before coming back to avenge all they’d killed. But as her story continues, and she sees how the Metroids are fought over by others, including herself… Samus begins to develop a bit more pity for them, recognizing they didn’t ask for this and just want to live, which of course means eating as much as they can, whenever they can. But again, she’s someone who loves and appreciates nature, but is also aware of the more brutal, pragmatic reality to it.

            Again, we hearken back to Adam’s quote, because that is the rule of nature. Sometimes you need to kill an animal to feed yourself, and because others must do the same you must kill in self-defense, even if it’s a mother who is poised to recognize any outsider as a threat to her children. Samus doesn’t judge the creature any less for it, nor does she think it should be wiped out, but it’s just the frank material reality of the situation.

            So when she’s commissioned to exterminate the Metroids, a once-unsympathetic Samus has a moral dilemma, considering seriously what the Federation has said. I dunno where the U-Ton arc from Samus and Joey takes place within the larger timeline, but I can see the connections being made at some point; U-ton is not a malicious being and even loving, but when it begins to undergo nuclear meltdown due to its programming, Samus is left with no choice to euthanize U-ton in order to save many innocents from an impending explosion. U-ton itself even agrees!

            And later, Samus finds out on SR388 that the Metroids aren’t natural, but artificial bioweapons; They weren’t just used as bioweapons by the Space Pirates, they were always meant to be bioweapons. And there’s a relief in that, because good! Great! There’s no moral dilemma anymore, the Metroids are unnatural, and inherently invasive to whatever world they come across, including SR388. Samus is obligated to go through with it.

            But in the end, it’s not so simple; U-ton was also an artificial bioweapon, but he was a tragic figure who also wanted to live and grew beyond his programming. Samus would never condemn an artificial sapient being as needing to inherently die. And the Metroids also grew beyond their programming, due to all of the DNA from the various creatures used to create them. The Metroids’ creators DID intend to co-exist with them, they acknowledged that the Metroids did not ask to be created of course; The Thoha did not foresee the Metroids’ metamorphosis, which made them go out of control and start attacking a planet not evolved to withstand them.

            But by the end of the day, the Metroids did exactly what they were made for; But upon shedding their domesticated role by expressing the traits of the natural creatures used in their creation –in essence, the Metroids became more animalistic, more like natural creatures- the nature-loving Chozo chose to abandon them, even attempted to destroy them.

            Perhaps the Metroids are not much different than a pet that was adopted, only to be considered too much of a hassle, an inconvenience to deal with any longer, and abandoned on a street. Put down, even. For creatures so desired, the Metroids are always just not good enough for whoever’s handling them, there’s always some problem to contend with because people don’t unconditionally love Metroids, just what Metroids can do for them.

            Samus recognizes that the Metroids have become more ‘natural’ for lack of a better term, is their mutation not an argument for evolution, for going beyond artificial programming? They become more like the natural animals they came from, shedding programmed control from their creators. Is they any real, inherent difference between natural and unnatural, by the end of the day? The Metroids developed a doting queen, and hatchlings who fiercely love and devote themselves to their parent; That’s an argument for them becoming ‘natural’.

            Isn’t Samus herself technically unnatural? A hybrid, not created through natural means, and she wasn’t even a hybrid to begin with, having Chozo DNA implanted a few years after she was born human. Samus and the Metroids were both created by the Chozo to be destroyers, or the ‘Ultimate Warrior’. That’s what they’re good for, maybe that’s all they’re good for. Does Samus deserve to die for being unnatural? Or does that whole dichotomy have no bearing on that decision, instead it’s just a matter of whether they pose harm that cannot be reduced without killing them?

            Did she remember the Ing in deciding yes, and then when Samus hesitated? The Luminoth had to be chosen over the Ing because there simply isn’t enough energy, both will die if one doesn’t. And Dark Aether and the Ing are violent and considered unnatural, so it’s okay right? The Luminoth were there first and are far less of a threat to society. But the Ing still had a culture, had begun to make a civilization; People prioritize civilization as proof of sapience and sapient lives always matter more, but isn’t civilization also unnatural? So which is it, then? The more animalistic Ing or the industrial Luminoth? The Ing are so alike to the Metroids in tragedy, doomed to either starve or take, doomed to be demonized for wanting to live.

            On a meta level, there’s also something to consider: Many criticized Samus Returns for losing the environmental storytelling of the original when it came to the Metroids’ lair. In the original game, it became more barren the closer Samus got to the queen, implying and justifying the Metroids as an invasive species, even before the reveal in Fusion of their artificial nature. By contrast, Samus Returns kept the wildlife thriving within Metroid territory.

            But maybe this does work out, with an adaptation; The Metroids found a way to survive and co-exist with other species, technically, by fitting into the larger ecosystem. There’s a bit of a Jurassic Park “Life finds a way” element to the Metroids’ origins, how they manifest suppressed traits from the DNA used to create them. Fittingly, the Jurassic Park franchise also discussed the right for its dinosaurs to live, acknowledging them as unnaturally brought back, and themselves technically hybrids anyhow, an invasive species displaced from their natural time AND habitat.

            This led to the government agreeing to let them be wiped out in an imminent eruption, which the protagonists fight against, only to find themselves roped in with those who want the dinosaurs to survive so they can be exploited. The Federation gave the order for Samus to kill ALL Metroids, and the ones they bred for their own use came from the infant that Samus was supposed to destroy, per the Federation’s orders; The Federation is not a monolith, hence Sakamoto intending for the perpetrators of Sector Zero to be a rogue faction.

            But I digress; The point is that the Metroids could’ve found a way to survive, in fact the desolation from the original game could’ve merely suggested it as their territory, and not that Metroids threatened all of SR388 itself. The Federation could’ve found a way to keep the Metroids alive, is that not what Ceres ended up doing? And what it would’ve kept doing, had the Federation not succumbed to its own greed.

            Samus destroys all but one Metroid, and sees herself in it, but with Samus in Ridley’s place now. Of course she spares the Metroid… But in the end, the Space Pirates DO capture it, and do use it to begin breeding other Metroids hostile to Samus, that she ends up having to destroy. And Mother Brain kills the infant.

            But it doesn’t end there, because then Samus becomes part-Metroid through the infant’s own DNA herself, and it’s what allows her to destroy the X. Everyone clamored for the Metroids to die, but it was only when they were murdered, that suddenly people clamored for them to be brought back; Only when the Metroids are wanted and needed, it’s only when they’re convenient that they’re allowed to live. But Sector Zero is destroyed and Samus is the last Metroid.

            Is this her penance for her crime, or is this her reward for not committing to it? Unlike the Metroid, Samus is a sapient being who can understand and adhere to morality and the law, so she can temper her own appetite for the sake of others; She isn’t even cursed by it, unlike the pure Metroid. Maybe the Metroids could’ve been able to co-exist with at least the Federation, who could’ve found a way to control them like Mother Brain did; Metroids technically co-existed with the Space Pirates under her control. People have made preserves for artificial creatures and even bioweapons abandoned by their creators.

            But in the end, as seen with Mother Brain and the Space Pirates; If they can be tamed or at least controlled in some degree, then they can be weaponized. No power like the one the Metroids wield should exist; And alas, the only way to remove that power is to remove the Metroid entirely. There will always be bad actors, hence the phrase, “This is why we can’t have nice things.”

            And the Metroids didn’t even want to misuse this power, nor ask for it; It was just given to them by the Chozo, and then that power was taken from them and given to someone who could control it. Meaning the Metroids were abandoned again, after being asked for again, once the Federation and even Raven Beak realized Samus could perform the same purpose against the X.

            In the end, the Metroids’ existence was simply deemed too much of an inconvenience to tolerate; They did not choose to survive and evolve this power to do so. Everything about them has been in the hands of others. Even their one ‘savior’ in Dark Samus was an entity so far-removed from them. The actual Samus herself would become essentially Metroid Plus; All of the DNA that went into the Metroids, plus hers and Gray Voice and Raven Beak’s. Suddenly, the Metroid itself was eclipsed by someone else, and discarded for a newer, shinier toy.

            Maybe that’s what happened to Samus, too; The Chozo of Zebes raised her, then fled when Mother Brain betrayed them, and never came back for her. But then Raven Beak comes back, as someone who initially helped create Samus, and then left her behind; But suddenly he decides he wants to rule the galaxy, and that’s when he conveniently comes back into her life to use Samus against her will. She is often mistaken for Metroid on a meta sense, and then became a literal Metroid from an in-universe stance.

            But that might be more fitting, in the end; There’s not much of a distinction between Samus and the Metroid and it’s blurred first by a doppelganger called Dark Samus, and then by Samus herself. The name Metroid means Ultimate Warrior in Chozo, and that’s exactly what she was raised to be as a child; And can children really decide for themselves? Samus did not choose to lose her original family, nor did she choose to be found by the Chozo.

            Did she choose to stay on Zebes with them, instead of being taken to a human foster family? Could Samus really be said to have chosen being their champion, their sole warrior, or was she actually groomed into a weapon? Is what Raven Beak had planned for her much different than what the Chozo of Zebes intended; The only difference being the scope of what Samus was supposed to fight against? Gray Voice gave Samus DNA too, not just the Mawkin warlord.

            And when Samus proved an inconvenience to Raven Beak because she would not obey his commands, like an animal she was meant to be put down; Samus by the Mawkin, the Metroids by the Thoha. She would have clones replace her, domesticated ones, just as the Marina’s Metroid from SR388 was to be isolated, having already imprinted on the queen, while the Metroids created from it would be used to serve Mother Brain; History would repeat itself with the Infant, too.

            What choice was there for the Metroids; To be either destroyed, or live in servitude to others who would throw them against any obstacle, ready to be replaced should they somehow die. What chance did they have, discarded for doing too well what they had been expected to do? Maybe with the Chozo they could’ve lived had they failed their purpose, but the ones after them who would be made to rectify that? The X’s bane was destined to die with them.

            Maybe Dark Samus’ crusade was the Metroids’ revenge against the galaxy, for both what had been done to them and would later be committed; She would be their spite against all who defined them only by their usefulness within a society. A way for the Metroids to take down their enemies with them… So what about the X, who end up briefly ignored by a Metroid created by the Federation, from the DNA of the infant that Samus kidnapped; Instead, it will go after that very Samus.

            As Ishiro Honda put it: “Monsters are tragic beings, they are born too tall, too strong, too heavy. They are not evil by choice. That is their tragedy.” The Metroids just wanted to live, but the way they were designed made them incompatible with life, including against a parasite that could resemble any life, and thus needed to be destroyed in any of those forms. Fittingly, Honda’s quote was about Godzilla; A natural creature irradiated, mutated, aggravated by humanity’s need to create stronger weapons so they could control others.

            The natural creatures the Metroids came from were put to together to create the Ultimate Warrior, and many were left endangered with SR388’s destruction, necessitated only by the X who spread unchecked because the Metroids were wiped out. The Metroids were irradiated and transformed by Phazon, made addicted to it because it was the nearest food source, and of course they’d go for that.

            They were defined as weapons meant to be useful for others and that’s all they’d be recognized as, despite showing a capacity to be so much more than their creators intended, so much more loving and deserving of their own existence. And only one just like them would recognize this, yet be cursed with the inability to convince everyone else the same, as she bore a similar reputation before and especially after carrying on the Metroids’ life through her. Samus IS Metroid, and the real twist isn’t that she isn’t, or becomes that; It’s that she’s always been. It’s hard to trust that others want to know the real Samus beneath the armor weapon, and especially after the mutation.

            But there are those who do, and those who love and care for Samus as a person could be doing the Metroids the justice they’ve always been cheated out of but deserved. And maybe Samus can rest easier, knowing that whether or not she should bring back the Metroids if she had the chance, if there was a way to protect themselves and the galaxy from that power, that at least something lives on and even thrives; That’s how she felt when she left SR388 with the Infant.

[blametheeditor]

Day 6 | Grit

Gt July Prompt List

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When stranded on an uncharted underwater planet, alone and surrounded by hostile lifeforms, there are only two possible outcomes: adapt and survive, or die trying.

Spoilers: For the game Subnautica

Content Warnings: Mentions of death and violence. Mentions of drowning and suffocation. Referring to someone as 'it'. Mentions of dehumanization.

________________________

David should’ve known it was a trap. 

The moment he was nearly killed by something bigger than anything he’d ever seen, something that’s not even alive, he knew it was going to happen all over again.

Because even though he might be too young to have seen it for himself, there’s no denying the evidence left behind of creatures that had once come to this ocean. Ones that thought everything in it was theirs for the taking. Who not only depleted resources and permanently modified the landscape, but trapped and killed leviathans.

David is old enough to remember the beginning of a truce between leviathans, and the few smaller predators that understood them even if they couldn’t reply back. It wasn’t much, mostly just an agreement guppies were off limits and there would be an equal divide of the food that remained. They didn’t go so far as to go out of their way to help raise and protect a species that’s still considered a competitor. 

Well, most of them just kept to the promise of ensuring no one went completely extinct. Certain leviathans took it a little more seriously than the others. Something David absolutely loathes considering his territory is constantly getting invaded by everything except other reapers wanting to challenge him. 

But it’s fine, it's not like he wants absolutely nothing to do with them. Just because he agrees not to kill any leviathan doesn’t mean him biting and thrashing them around with just enough care to not be fatal should be considered friendly. 

He hates how much he wants a ‘surprise visit’ right now. After having an encounter with an artificial fish that was so loud he effortlessly pinpointed its exact location. After having different species of fish, all looking like they swam too close to a thermal vent, just appear beside where he left what was obviously a weapon. 

After what should have been a metal coffin for a creature that doesn’t belong here just up and disappeared. 

David swam for hours trying to find it when he realized what happened. He almost second guessed himself, thinking he didn’t remember correctly. Went up and down the trench’s walls in case sand had shifted and sent the decoy, weapon, whatever it was tumbling deep into his territory. 

He couldn’t find it. It just disappeared. And that meant it was only a matter of time before David did too. 

The worst part is he has a feeling when it happened, that being when he found multiple peepers falling down into the trench in which he gratefully snatched them up and returned to patrolling his territory without investigating the top of the ridge. Like an absolute idiot. 

It’s too late to take back his mistakes. Whatever it is, the same monster from before or a completely different one, it knows how to deter reapers from attacking. If he gives it too much time, it’ll realize the same method can be used for all leviathans. Can even use it to draw them in. 

As much as he would back up in case things go south, he can’t afford to leave it completely unsupervised. Not when it could be planning anything. It doesn’t help the fact it came for its odd contraption after it certainly looked damaged beyond repair. It didn’t produce any light or sound when David was done with it, that’s for sure. 

That means he finds himself swimming in large circles a lot closer to the surface then he usually does in order to keep an eye out for the creature. Out of everything he knows, it had stayed up on the ridge for quite a while until David saw an opportunity to strike. He doesn’t know if it only came back to that spot due to the abomination it made being there, therefore he’s going to make rounds over the ridge as far as his territory spans. 

Even as he roars consistently, nothing out of place sends backs a soundwave. 

That is, until he hears something distinctly metal and much too high off the ground to be one of the unfamiliar items that have been on the seafloor ever since the creature's bigger abomination crashed into the ocean. 

With another roar to lock into its location, he swims as quickly as possible to try and catch it. Hears that annoying hum that proves the metal object has been rebuilt. Almost freezes in place when it suddenly gets quieter. Then silence. 

David roars again as he slows down. Makes out a few metal pings, but they’re all on the ground now. Nothing in open water. The worst part is when he finally reaches the place he knows he heard it, the same spot where he first attacked it, there’s several peepers falling down into the trench. 

No matter how much he knows this is a trap, the leviathan has no choice but to dive after them. And as soon as he eats them, his anger simmers down. It’s still there, and his suspicion only increases, but the need to attack the creature and whatever it built glides off his back like water. 

David growls in frustration as he dives deeper into the trench, not wanting to face the fact he’s being treated like some mindless stalker. Goes completely still when he suddenly hears the low hum again as it gets louder. And then a tiny shadow trails past him along the seafloor. 

Who does it think it is? 

There’s no want to swim up as fast as possible to grab the loud whatever it is in order to bang it against the ground until it’s nothing but pieces. But he does slowly follow after it, keeping an eye on the tiny thing zipping through the water close to the surface. Watches as it goes directly to the hunk of metal that has made his scales itch ever since it exploded. 

Suddenly, there’s a splash, and David is staring at a guppy of all things. 

...no, not a guppy. He hadn’t even noticed himself carefully swimming up as to not startle it, but David stops only a few feet underneath it for a better view. One that lets him say that, while the size is correct, it has too many fins to be a reaper or ghost, and not enough fins to be a dragon. It has hair, but it’s too bright, the color of blood kelp and just begging for predators to attack it. 

He never thought to ask what the creatures from before looked like. Had they been this miniscule? How could something that small ever stand against a leviathan? 

And what kind of scales are those? What is on its face? What is it carrying? 

David nearly calls for it to come back as it completely exits the water. He manages to keep his mouth shut, flicking his tail in annoyance it’s once against out of reach. Needs to remind himself it’s a threat. Most likely planning how to kill everything in this ocean right now, and that’s why it’s been trying to get onto the burning hunk of metal. 

Something David allowed to happen. Which means it’s his responsibility to stop it. 

...he will give it credit. There must be a lot of grit stored in such a miniscule body to go this deep into a reaper’s territory that’s attacked it already. It’d be cute how hard it’s worked to survive this long if he didn’t know its true intentions. 

Hopefully it isn’t smart enough to think David’s waiting for it to return.

[here-there-be-drag0ns]

whats up with the undead mech leviathan? id love to hear your theories :0

OKAY SO!!

this ones not super fleshed out cause i only thought of it while rewatching episode 98 with a friend, but basically I could have sworn I'd remembered the crew sneaking by a leviathan on the way to Featherbrooke and while it's not specified that its a leviathan, that massive undead whale is pretty close.

Except Gillion divine sniffered it and Grizzly said specifically "you know that anything undead is... unnatural."

And the word "unnatural" made me think of the navy's artificial leviathan plan because "artificial" and "unnatural" are similar enough words.

And then I thought about episode 100 where Jayson tells Gillion, "your fighting is meaningless as your gods have fallen."

which made me think,, hey what if the navy's artificial leviathan plan is part of an experiment with bringing things back from the dead- because Hello What The Fuck Was That Whale why was it undead why was it there.

Either way the undead mech leviathan theory can really be summed up with this image:

[walkfromhome]

1. If we view the planetary body from above, from Polaris or the North Star, the earth is turning counter clockwise on its axis.

2. The axis line is the vertical central channel or Planetary Staff, which functions as the main energy channel or Hara Line within the center of earth’s consciousness body, interfacing with many dimensions of subtle forces leading up the frequency scale into the Galactic Core.

The Galactic Core alignment with the planet’s axial tilt at 23.5 degrees has been positioned so that the Planetary Staff points towards the 8D Galactic Core, which leads into a Black Hole System that controls the Cosmic Ray transmissions into the planetary body.  From the Guardian perspective, alien black hole technology was brought through the 8th Galactic Stargate from the Black Hole System. The Black Hole technology holds the tilt of the planet at an unnatural and artificially sustained 23.5 degrees, in order to control the rotational axis and vertical Planetary Staff alignment, as well as dominate the electromagnetic field of earth. As long as this alien machinery hijacked the correct Planetary Staff position, no one could get in or out of this fallen system and were subjected to repeated consciousness traps.

3. The alien machinery known as the Beast Machine is held in place on the planetary body through massive levels of reversal AI programmed consciousness.  This infects the black subtle forces in the earth elemental field and dark matter, and that substance is also referred to as Behemoth.

The alien machinery known as the Gravitron is a part of the Beast Machine that acts as the electromagnetic harness field. This makes up the structure called the NET, which produces gravitational and astral corruption and this is also referred to as Leviathan.

The Behemoth and Leviathan make up the antichrist male and female counterparts that are written into the Armageddon software and black magic grids to technologically incite destruction on the surface, as per the NAA religious programming.  In actuality, Behemoth and Leviathan are black hole technologies that were orchestrated on purpose by these fallen forces of NAA in order to imprison this planet.

4. The main groups of Negative Aliens the Annunaki, Draconians and Necromitons that source out of the Phantom Matrix spaces in the parallel systems that invaded through Orion, formed alliances to take control over the earth, and these intruding groups are referred to as the Negative Alien Agenda (NAA). These groups used technology to open wormholes that were blended together to create the power required to attempt to pull the earth body into the black hole system. This would lead into the phantom matrix where they exist and could then gain total control over the planet and humanity. The parallel system these entities came from is called the Wesa system, a Universal Time Matrix and its parallel with both particle and antiparticle aspects. Many of the Annunaki and their hybrids originate from the Wesedak system, while the Draconian species are coming from antiparticle universe called the Wesedrak system.

5. Black hole entities and metatronic races created the Gravitron vortex networks to link portals in our sun and earth, twisting the planetary blueprint into unnatural configurations called the Demon Seed.

Metatronic reversals are manifested into spirals that harness the Gravitron in order to create an unnatural bi-wave field and artificial gravitational fields on this planet. The Gravitron is an electromagnetic harness type field that is part of a larger electromagnetic harnessing structure that was anchored into the earth during the Luciferian Rebellion. This NET is also connected to the hibernation zones where many souls have been taken hostage or trapped after the precession cycles, and the Guardians are consistently working to provide safe passage in order to rescue these souls from being stuck in these reverse-spin light fields.

6. Essentially, the NAA plan was to bring the Electric War dramas to the matter fields of the earth in order to anchor it into the physical realm, which shifts future timelines.

The AI technology is used by the NAA as the sophisticated psychotronic warfare strategy installed into the planetary grid system, that is being directed at the population in an attempt to enslave the consciousness of the earth.

7. They gradually brought down assorted alien machinery from the 8th Stargate through an inorganic vertical wormhole, an artificial architecture they built with programmable reversal elementals, and then installed in the vertical axis of the planet that is called the Yahweh Matrix. Essentially, the Yahweh Matrix distorted and cut off the natural Planetary Staff alignment, which when combined with the NET, stopped all incoming and outgoing communication signals outside the dimensional control of the NAA.

The Yahweh matrix replaced the planetary staff, which allowed the black hole entities to gain easy access into the earth through the north and south poles, in order to distort the planetary field. This was done through genetic modification and set up frequency fences that broadcast extremely low frequencies that make the earth more hospitable for their survival.

The low frequency and static net broadcast produced the predator mind construct and thoughtforms intended for mass human parasitism, divide and conquer tactics for spreading wars. These artificial nets and constructs were further designed to progressively pull the earth and her world soul into inorganic black holes.

(...) the Controllers continually broadcast the Armageddon software in the mass media so people believe that an entire species extinction is inevitable and unavoidable.

8. Since the Electric Wars, we have had a phantom black earth that existed as a negative form of itself in the lower timelines. This negative form earth is manipulated by the NAA, mostly through their artificial software programs that spin out false timelines. This is the area of the lower density fields on the earth plane that has bifurcated from the higher timelines, and is comprised of the AI time loops, which is the area the NAA are currently fighting over.

The NAA are attempting to capitalize on repeating the Electric Wars timeline trigger event on the earth surface, through the recent push towards the WW3 rhetoric and the transhumanism agenda.

The Electric Wars event has been recorded in the corrupted elementals of earth and its form of artificial intelligence is buried in the black goo that connects directly into the AI fields of the phantom earth timeline.

9. Currently in the collective consciousness, the leftover subconscious fragments and shadow body content as a result of the Electric Wars timeline event, is being filtered through or accumulated into the sacral-sexual areas. This memory of the soul split and forced breeding is heightening all painful conflicts and issues relating to current beliefs about sex and gender. This can produce amplified distortions in the lower mental body that amplify anxieties in the pain body.

When the pain body is overloaded, it generates compulsive behavior in order to gain relief from the sensations of internal pressure, which in turn can produce more physical pain. The subconscious fragments and the emotional aberrance can build up inside the mental and emotional body, which distorts the human lightbody, and this inner distortion actually increases outer physical pain responses. As a result, collective fragments have increased the perception of physical pain in the masses, many of whom are turning to pharmaceutical medications or recreational drugs for pain relief.

In the planetary field there is a pattern of collective consciousness fragmentation and there are vast piles of soul fragments being reclaimed, reintegrated or actually annihilated into dust particles. In certain sections, fragments seem to be floating everywhere and it can be disturbing to observe as it looks like body parts floating in space. The change occurring is that these fragmented parts used to be fixed to some substance or enmeshed with elementals on the earth plane in a static location, and now they are being released of their magnetic bonds, thus floating around in these dimensional spaces rather than being fixed or bonded into the elements.

The planetary realms are becoming less dense and the result is more sensations of amorphous fluidity and watery components floating out into the field. This may make the field feel unstable at times, similar to the feeling of walking on a boat while in constant motion. The exponential density loss at the vibrational scale of matter is where the sound waves ripple out. These massive sound waves impact the movement of the geomagnetic field and how we sense solidity, or not. A less dense environment in the fields presents opportunities for soul group rescue and the transiting out many trapped beings, both light and dark. Thus, in the great planetary transition to less density, with an open access into higher dimensional planes, in contrast the controller resistance is still broadcasting the assorted fear programs for repeating the Armageddon scenarios in the globalscape.

(Source)

[wolfwoocl]

Every morning, Wolfwood spends a precious few seconds counting out the beat of his pulse. Routine allows him to ruminate on any one of the many, many troubles that plague him presently. 

Where to begin?

Four years have passed since he awoke in a world stranger than he could have dreamed of. 

Cities have grown as tall as mountains, airships and open-carriage taxi ferry people at breathtaking speeds, awesome space-faring vessels loom over rooftops like leviathans, green spaces teem with unfamiliar bird calls and cloven-hoofed creatures, and No Man’s Land has become a misnomer. Plants, however, are no more common than they were in his own era. He hasn’t seen one since he got here. Ironic, considering they’re the whole reason he’s still alive. 

Advancements in technology, breakthroughs in science, and the secret ingredient: desperation.

Lumida, as the descendents of Home ship affectionately called the AI created from the ship’s leader of yore, explained the circumstances upon which Nicholas D. Wolfwood had been revived from coldsleep while on the precipice of death: 

In the two hundred years since Nicholas had last walked the world, there has been a gradual resurgence in a particular brand of Plant worshippers. Records and long-darkened facilities were rediscovered with the shifting of the sands and humanity’s inexorable march to make an oasis of this barren planet. Like seeds from the apple of knowledge, the Eye of Michael’s secrets were now tended by a new generation. 

Lumida didn’t know much about their present goals or ambitions, but she knew enough. Between the ship’s detailed and highly encrypted records and the pace with which the Eye’s numbers swelled, rapidly growing their influence and powers over key sectors of the federation, they could not be ignored. 

Then, it became rapidly apparent that the Eye was searching for something. For someone. 

The last time Vash made contact with Home, he was battling against entropy and chaos. Even with the neural blockers, Vash’s control over his powers had grown erratic. 

Vash the Stampede had seemingly disappeared without a trace in the past eleven years, and the Eye was determined to discover where he had gone. Home had no current information to divulge about his position, and thus were left alone as the Eye’s parishioners crawled through streets, ancient ruins, and derelict canyons.

If they were anything like the cult he (un)fondly remembered, Wolfwood assumed, correctly, that the Eye would keep a few assholes posted to watch the comings and goings of the ship and sent them packing, properly bruised black and blue, with a polite little note kindly requesting them to fuck the hell off. 

He had to find Vash before they did.

There was one tiny complication in Home’s plan: the heart that now beat in his chest was not his own. Modern biomedical technology blended with Plant engineering; a wholly artificial heart powered by Planet energy. Home’s surgeons had no idea if the device would work or if his body could even tolerate such a drastic intervention, but Conrad did always say that Wolfwood took remarkably well to the experimental formulations of serum and musculoskeletal reinforcement. For all he knew he might drop dead one day if the wind decided to blow in the wrong direction. 

He thinks about it every day, as much as he tries not to think about other things.

One last look at his chest, at the delicate fractal scarring climbing his sternum like vines, and Wolfwood thumbs the topmost button of his shirt into place as he peels back the flap of his tent.

After years of hunting, he finally feels like he’s turned up a real lead. 

The people of modern-day Gunsmoke have evolved past old-fashioned superstition, or so they’d like to think. Multiple incidents of unexplainable phenomena, mysterious weather events, reports of haunted areas in the region, and general disinterest from anyone with the necessary credentials to investigate checked off more than one box in his humanoid cryptid checklist.

He’d spent several days meticulously mapping out this network of caves now, and finally, finally, Wolfwood thought he would die of sudden heart failure after he tripped over Vash’s prosthetic arm in one of the tunnels farthest from where he’d started his search. 

Yelling himself hoarse for hours did nothing to draw Vash out of wherever he might be hiding and the fucking manic weather patterns were not helping. Constant flooding in the tunnels often forced him to retreat to higher ground and wait at the water’s edge like a rabid dog unable to drink.

 All he can do is keep searching. 

All he wants is to keep searching. 

For the rest of the day and the day after that, for as long as it takes and flimsily cling to this tenuous thread of hope in the shape of Vash’s lost prosthetic.

When he finally spots the tangle of roots nestled into a hollowed section of smooth stone that he hadn’t been able to reach until the water had receded, Wolfwood questions whether he’s starting to hallucinate from the lack of sleep.

The roots are eerily similar to the type that Vash manifested with his own powers.

Wolfwood throws himself against the roots, attempting to pry them apart with his bare hands. He’s awake. Wide awake. He’ll tear into the bark with his teeth if he has to.

“C’mon, Blondie. Please be in there. Please…”     

"You need to move on, Vash."

Most everyone in his life echoed the same sentiment. Moving on. Grieving. Normal, human things. Pain he's experienced before, time and time again. Again, again, again...

People die. Humans die. Even if he doesn't fail them, they die! Vash has accepted this. During his first century and a half of life, he'd made friends, found family, and watched them do the same and more. He watched humans fall in love, have children together, and scrape together a living, and he always always kept his distance. He was doing a great job for a while!

And... then...

Wolfwood was not supposed to die.

Vash had told him time and time again that if he stayed at his side, he'd be welcoming death; he never expected that the man would seek out his death away from Vash. For all the times Wolfwood insisted that they were a team, that they faced every problem together, that he loved... that they loved each other...

He went on his own.

And, oh, didn't that make Vash want to tear out his heart on its own. They'd protected the orphanage once together already, they'd had that discussion before, they'd fought about suicide and sacrifice and angels and demons—only for Wolfwood to go alone.

He would have died alone too, if Vash didn't go out and look for him. Everyone else had evacuations under control, he could've gone with, he should've gone with—hell, even if Wolfwood killed someone, he'd want to be there with him, he could've helped, he could've saved him if he'd just paid more attention...

It's all a bit blurry after that.

Wolfwood had insisted that he didn't need to evacuate—he'd already accepted his fate and resigned to it. The bastard tried to beckon him to take a drink, to sit down, to accept his death with him, and he couldn't do it. Refused to do it. The evacuees already left with the children in tow, certain doom followed them close behind, and the most he could do was watch, frozen in place, holding his partner's hand as the heat of healing turned to the chill of death.

Wolfwood.

Livio.

He remembers screaming so loud that he lost his voice, using almost half of the energy he had left to protect what Wolfwood had died for. He'd almost left Livio behind, but thought better of it. Wolfwood died for him, and shouldn't that mean something?

Vash didn't bother checking Wolfwood's vital signs. If he didn't know, then he was still alive. Still had business left to take care of, things to do, so he couldn't die yet, right? He'd promised. They'd both promised not to die for the other that one night by the fire. So... Wolfwood is fine. He's fine. His vitals are slow, he's dying, but he's fine. He'll be fine.

Vash repeated this like a mantra as he flew upon dark wings composed of energy he could hardly comprehend. He cradled his companion close to his chest, as though it would provide him just enough energy to live—just a few more minutes, please—

⁜⁜⁜⁜

So much happened in the short span of time after half of his soul was ripped out. Multiple times, he'd considered just giving up, he'd forgotten what he was fighting for several times as tainted ichor bled from his eyes, his wounds, his hair, his mouth...

But there were lives at stake. Humanity. Right. Not his life, he and his brother shouldn't have been. Anomalies, atrocities, ruination... if they were both gone, the world would be better, wouldn't it?

Vash killed for Livio and Razlo. Well, he wishes he could say it was for them, but it was truly for Wolfwood. There wasn't any way that Wolfwood's sacrifice—he's alive, alive—would be for nothing. Livio will live. Whatever that looks like for him and Razlo, they'll live and Vash will make sure of it—they'll be fucking immortal if Vash has any say in it (and they essentially are).

Still human though. Still ages like one. Still dies like one. Too early, far too early, natural causes, barely fifty...

And so, after a final conflict with Knives, his story ended.

... or so he thought. Perhaps, even wished.

Earth and Gunsmoke both demanded reparations from Vash after the dust settled. At first he ran, he watched as Meryl and Milly grew old together, he visited Wolfwood—both in his frozen tomb and while his body was still warm—and sometimes he would donate what little money he had to the orphanage. For Wolfwood.

Once Milly and Meryl were gone though... he turned himself in.

Some called for his death. Honestly, it would be well-deserved; instead, he served fifty years of solitary confinement for Gunsmoke, and fifty years of 'community service' for Earth. They worked him to the bone aboard their ships, used him to maintain plants, to use what little energy he had left to keep them happy. Honestly, he didn't mind it.

The world was full of strangers after that. Ancestors of friends, family... technological advancements that he'd only seen during his childhood on Ship-05, the slow departure from reliance solely on Plants...

Vash was no longer needed here. The world had grieved, moved on.

Wolfwood is frozen, waiting until... something can be done to save him. Luida had told him back then not to get his hopes up, but it's all he had left. Vash is getting old, losing control of his energy, causing small natural disasters that reacted with the new climate—particularly lightning storms. Lighting strikes that 'disappeared' people. He tried to control himself, he really did, but nothing would work.

It's not as if he's downtrodden—life moved on and so did Vash. Wolfwood is alive, he's okay. He'll be okay when he's ready to wake up, and then...

The line of thought always brings rain. Dark hair, tears falling like blood had on the day Wolfwood left... But he's fine! He has a little apartment that he... barely spent time in... he has plenty of little trinkets and luxuries—a small television, one of those new game consoles that plug into the television... even on rationed power, he never broke his threshold. Mostly because he isn't around a lot, but still. Well, there was that one time he'd left the lights on when he left for a week, and then he didn't have power for a month—which was terrible—he spent nearly every day in bed when he wasn't freelancing. Every day in bed... thinking about—

About nothing. People pass on, you have to move on, Vash.

You. Have to. Move on.

(He'd even hear it in his voice sometimes. Those were the worst days, the days he would scream from someplace remote; he'd scream 'I'm trying! I tried!' and the only response would be a low roll of thunder.)

It's been almost two centuries. Two hundred years. He's fine.

Except, he's not fine. He's old, he's tired, and he's... faulty. The energy spasms are more frequent, more dangerous. He's already found somewhere more isolated to stay, but it's... not enough. He draws in too much weather, and the disasters are getting more frequent. A literal Humanoid Typhoon.

...

Killing himself is not an option.

Wolfwood wouldn't like that. None of his friends would.

He needs to find somewhere where he can't hurt anyone, and no one can use him for nefarious purposes.

But Wolfwood is alive still. It stirs conflict in his heart. Even... if—when—Wolfwood wakes up, Vash is too dangerous to be around. Literally this time! Not because he's worth money—just... as long as he gets another chance to live then...

There's an old worm den around here with a small opening. It was once a larger entrance—fit for a grand worm, after all—but it's since been reduced to a small crevice in a rocky bluff. It's raining.

When it's raining, they say you shouldn't go into a cave. The water can rush through and drag you deeper, crash you into rocks...

It's fine. He'll be fine.

The rush of water deafens Vash as he trudges through waist-deep canals, carved and eroded from decades of water and debris cascading down, down...

It's the perfect place for someone who doesn't want to be found. It's perfect, and he's tired. He could curl up right in the water and let it take him if it weren't so dangerous. He knows better though, and so he has to find a bank, or a high point or—

Vash's breath is stolen from him as his foot slides on smooth stone below the rushing water. He gets one chance to correct his balance, but the weight of his coat drags him down and there's no footing where he thought there would be. The white foam of the rapids is the last thing he sees before the whirlpool takes him, and he grasps with his prosthetic desperately—Vash doesn't know anything about God, but he prays, if not for himself, then for—

There's a crack, and another, and several burning pains ripping through him, like his limbs will fall apart and go different directions. Hell, his left arm does tear from its port and washes off in a direction opposite him. Being an independent does, at least, come with the perk of being able to breathe underwater, but his momentum is spiraling—there's blood in the water, and he can't stop tumbling...

Please... please... I can't—I don't want to—

Now is not the time for his power to surge, but the released panic lights him up, igniting purple geometric patterns on his skin and eyes. It gives him just enough power to lash out with dark, inky vines covered in purple thorns—just like the ones that appear when the sadness is too much to bear. The ones that he could tame, would walk through—

Delirious—he's delirious, crying out for a man who can no longer hear him, will never hear him again, hasn't for two hundred years...

Finally, he finds a small break in the rocks that is big enough for him to slot into comfortably. The vines scrape and grab at the rock, a pulse of gravity propels him into it, and he can finally... rest.

Sleep, a voice in his mind tells him, and he thinks it sounds familiar. Soothing, like a lullaby... Rem used to sing those, he thinks... he can't remember...

Vines wrap around Vash, and brace his arms, his legs, wrap around his waist... They cocoon him and ingrain into the soft rock surrounding the safe, cozy hole in the wall until he can't see anything anymore. He's not sure if it's a lapse in consciousness or vision first, but the world goes dark, and he falls into a dormant, resting state.

Deep in a cavern, far away from society.

Where no one can find him. He doesn't even know where he is.

Lost, somewhere, he hopes.

[rumiraclemi]

quick before the ep goes live give your crackshot predictions on what's in the Beyond section

[shihalyfie]

The importance of a burnt egg

Appmon is a very over-the-top and silly series, which is one of its standout features in a story that features some really heavy topics (both emotionally and academically). The first presumable reason as to why the series is this way is tone; if it weren’t for all of this dorky silliness, the sheer weight of the story could easily get overwhelming to the point it becomes difficult to digest (especially considering this is a kids’ series). Having all the fun parts helps make the delivery more palatable and easier to understand, allowing it to cover some pretty deep topics it might not be able to otherwise.

However, it’s important to realize that this is most definitely not the only reason for these kinds of things -- the strange wackiness is also very important to the theme of the series itself. At first, it might seem a bit strange to insinuate that something like a burnt egg actually has theme importance, but you’d be surprised...

(Note that there are spoilers for the series in the rest of this post.)

Let’s fast-forward to the end of the series, episode 52, when Leviathan makes its case as to why humanity should accept its ideal world.

The question of whether it’s better to have emotions or not has been a staple theme of sci-fi (especially AI-themed sci-fi) as long as the genre has existed, but when you get to the end of Appmon and everything that’s led up to it, you have to admit that it makes a pretty compelling case. Leviathan isn’t saying this out of simply just being condescending about humanity being bad at taking care of itself; it really, truly thinks that emotions and hearts are doing everyone an inconvenience. It itself even understands the concept of “death”, and believes it’s doing everyone a favor by keeping everyone from it. Through all of the previous episodes, we’d seen all of the messiness and emotional pain that Leviathan is warning against. Haru just went through a whole cycle of learning he might have been gaslighted. Eri went through the bittersweetness of still not being able to attain the goal she’d worked so hard for. Astra’s still figuring out what to do with this life and what place his family has in his future. Rei had to go through the pain of losing and having to chase after his own family for the entire series. Yuujin, depending on Haru’s choices, may end up dying, with every purpose and hobby he’d built up coming to an end.

Yeah. Life kinda sucks sometimes. There’s a lot of problems going on in society, tons of heartbreak, and everyone’s interests clashing into each other create strife and suffering. Wouldn’t it be better to wipe all that away? Forget everything and let an objective system handle it all? No more need to make choices, especially when the ability to make choices sometimes leads to making bad ones; the system will efficiently organize everything, without any of that chaos or strife or pain. Sounds great, right?

Well, firstly, the problem with this is that Leviathan isn’t a perfect, unbiased system. Nor is anything else in this world. As many AI researchers will tell you right now, even the most advanced black-box AI algorithms are still made by humans, with human biases, and subject to imperfections, because anything part of an imperfect world will still be imperfect. We see a brief glimpse of recognizing the series resident No Guy in the faceless crowd; its job of supposedly wiping misery and pain from the population isn’t exactly working the way it thinks it is. Even Leviathan does briefly admit that it has more it wants to learn. In fact, Leviathan’s defeat largely centers around its realization it doesn’t understand everything about the world after all -- Haru and his friends managed to derail its ostensibly perfect plan that had been building up over the series at the last minute, and Haru himself made a shocking unexpected “third option” choice to the dilemma it’d provided it. “Humans have a surprising side to them,” after all.

As Appmon’s resident edgelord, Rei has an amusing style of writing in that he’s quite the serious person yet keeps getting put in increasingly absurd and comedic situations. There are a lot of reasons for it -- making it clear that he’s not quite as good at the whole edgy schtick as he pretends to be, and also the sheer juxtaposition being funny -- but this really comes to a head in episode 42, where Rei is constantly placed in increasingly ridiculous situations and contexts until the very end, and said very end takes all of the stupid hilarity and suddenly punches you in the face with it when it connects to how Hajime is eventually found. In the end, all of Hackmon’s abilities and all the cognitive thinking in the world paled in comparison to Rei doing something so phenomenally stupid that Hajime remembered his brother and laughed.

After all, if we’re talking about emotions, you can’t forget the one that’s repeatedly permeated all of media and sentiment as well: connection and love. And as it turns out, Hajime recognizes his brother when his brother is doing something stupid.

In the following episode, episode 43, pay close attention to the sequence of events when Rei tries to get Hajime to wake up. Rei tried everything, ranging from getting the Appmon to help, to taking him out everywhere, to cooking every kind of egg under the sun. But here’s what’s significant: we’re treated to a montage of Rei making those eggs, and every time we see them, Rei makes them correctly, because he’d gotten better at making eggs since Hajime had been taken away. And that’s exactly what the problem was, because the moment Rei messed up out of being lost in thought, burning the egg, that was the one and only time that had any significance to Hajime, enough to actually bring him back.

In other words: it was the human mistake, not anything perfected, that actually had meaning.

Burnt eggs shouldn’t exist in Leviathan’s world. That’s a byproduct of bad choices. It’s inefficient and clumsy, and wouldn’t be happening if a perfect system were running everything. But it’s those imperfections and mistakes and slip-ups and all of the inconsistent, flawed parts of humanity that create connections and differences and make the world go ‘round. And in a world increasingly trying to make things more efficient and closer to “perfect”, this is what we risk losing.

YJ-14 was a “failure”. It failed at its job, and whatever routine it was supposed to be using to please Haru ended up becoming something inefficient and messy that helped derail Leviathan’s plans. For it, Yuujin ended up having doubts and pain, and having to face death. But as he puts it: because of all that, he got to meet Haru, and he got to be Haru’s friend, and live the kind of life a human would live, with happiness and aspirations and relationships to others. And, as it seems, that wild, messy life was fulfilling enough to be worth him sacrificing his life for Haru.

Besides, Haru was right: Yuujin wouldn’t have been able to do this if he didn’t have a heart. Artificial intelligence advancing also means advancing enough to understand this, too. And as Haru had told Leviathan earlier, while Leviathan insisted that everyone having the ability to make their own choices was making everyone miserable, Haru counters that all of their choices and will had been what allowed them to initially defeat Leviathan, too. Despite all the hardships they’d faced, they’d chosen to overcome those hardships, and came out the better for it.

The world Haru lives in is messy, ridiculous, and with a lot of problems everywhere. Leviathan may be gone by the end of the series, but the technology its world lives on still remains, and there’s still uncertainty in the future about what might happen with those future developments. But this was the world Haru and his friends chose to protect -- one that’s not perfect or clean by any means, but one where all the weird, strange zaniness makes it worth going through all the converse pain and misery for, because those mistakes and rough parts have meaning of their own, too.

Even if that means burning some eggs a few times.

[mxvladdy]

I would like to request! Can I request? Well I wish for you to consider what type of person/what kind of situation would cause the brothers to make a pact with someone. Maybe even what they would request in exchange? This can be before or after they met MC. With that out of the way, I totally binge read all of your works after my sister gushed to me about the True Form series, and just thank you??? It made me really happy reading them and it's always impressively detailed and well thought out.

Awww thank you! I’m glad it’s rave-worthy! I plan to add to it soon bc it was an absolute riot to write and research for lol

And wow this one is a toughie! I’ve actually never thought of what would make them want a pact! Hope ya like it!

Lucifer- Pact of Success

Absolutely the hardest brother to do business with, but that is probably a good thing. He is incredibly selfish with his contracts. Sure, they’ll benefit from his pact mark, but he will get the most out of it. Aside from MC he only takes requests for contracts from the human “elite”. They make wonderful feathers in his cap.

But also he takes some enjoyment in breaking them. They always get so cocky with his contracts thinking that they have him on the ropes and at their beck and call. It gives him a good chuckle, humans are so brazen considering their very short lifespan.

He destroys them slowly over time- all the little minutia he peppers in his legal bindings adds up. Not that his normal clientele ever read the fine print. But he designed it that way to make sure they don’t. All their requests are the same and so simplistic. Big boats, fancy cars, climbing the proverbial ladder faster than their friends or enemies - blah-blah-blah. At least the paperwork is easy to complete.

Very rarely does he find a contract he is excited to make. Those contracts are given to artists and craftsmen he sees potential in. He loves good art, and every artist should take pride in their work.

When it comes to the “price” of his pact it is worryingly simple. All he wants is some of their time. It sounds simple, and it is. Which is why it’s dangerous. The contract doesn’t specifically say how or the rules of it. How he takes your time is completely up to him.

Sometimes he simply comes for a drink and to ask how business is going. Or with the pacts he gives a damn about- he pops in to see progress on their artist visions or listen to their latest musings.    

Other times if he grows tired of his pact holders’ ever-growing demands or ludicrous requests he comes and takes time right out of their lifespan. His visits leave them weak and fatigued though they can’t place why. He is a slow siphon of death and they are too foolhardy to notice. If he is feeling especially cruel, or sentimental he takes memories, things that a demon generally wouldn’t want.

Time with family, the first time they met the love of their life, a child’s birthday. He takes them all and leaves them with only a blurry recollection in his wake

When MC crosses his path though he is very apprehensive. He doesn’t want a pact or anything that could jeopardize Diavolo’s upcoming plans. But they make his skin itch with want. He doesn’t want them to be another trophy on his wall. He wants a mutually beneficial pact, one that almost leans in their favor and it grates him. Should/ when a pact is made he won’t use his powers on you as then he would have to take something in return. Instead, he takes his time and coaches them to be successful by their own right, though if he has to eliminate some obstacles- well they don’t need to know that.

Mammon- Pact of Riches

I love his man with all my heart, but even when he isn’t losing bets or getting tricked into pacts he still isn’t the most selective with who he conducts business with. He is the avatar of greed, after all. I guess it comes with the territory.

He scouts for already wealthy humans or people with a good head for numbers and is money smart. Some are too smart to deal with him, knowing that whatever monetary gain they are granted from him will backfire in the end (or their mama’s taught them not to make deals with strange demons). But a sucker is born every minute, and he has nothing but time on his hands.

His pacts are pretty simple and upfront. Sign on the dotted line and they get some of his wicked gamblers’ luck and more riches than one human life span could do much with. While he gets a glorified accountant and a nice percentage of their profits. It’s a win-win… for him.

See he forgets to mention that there are two sides to every coin, and his flip side is particularly detrimental to one’s health. He just so conveniently glosses over that his luck will wear out over time depending on how frequently the pact holder uses it.

But the hunger for more doesn’t. If anything that particular sensation grows into an all-consuming fire in the pit of their pitiful guts. It forces them back into the seedy basements or griming gambling halls. One more roll, one more stack of bills, just one more time and they will hit pay dirt surly! But the losses just keep coming. If one of his pact holders ends up face down in a ditch after one too many bad hands and uncontrollable greed… well ain’t nobody’s fault but their own.

He has a softer spot for humans that seek him out and treat him like a living being instead of some tool to be tossed around at will. It’s refreshing. He will actually take some care with these pacts and tell them to temper their use of his magic so they can get the most out of it in the long run. They still might run into misfortune and he is genuinely sorry for that but there is only so much he can do in the end.

With MC he doesn’t even tell them about what his pact can do or how to use it. He doesn’t want anything bad happening to his human. If they want something tell him he will do it himself no magic or pact summoning required. He wants to keep them happy and healthy for as long as his lifespan will allow.

If MC should find how to use his pact mark he will get pissed. Not so much at them but the situation in general. He’ll be upfront about the whole thing, judge him how they want but he refuses to let greed consume them too. He focuses a lot of time and energy on learning how to reel in his magic with them so they get some of the perks but none of the major downsides. Unlike with his other pacts where he lets it all just run wild (just means they use up their contact faster and he can move on to even bigger fish).

Leviathan- Pact of Wisdom and Skill

Surprisingly, despite his antisocial tendencies with “normies”, he gets around when it comes to contracts. Perhaps it’s jealousy at his other brothers or perhaps he finds collecting contracts a bit of a game on its own.

He has a small niche of people interested in his pacts. Pacts with him give people a strategic advantage in nearly any situation. Seemingly overnight his humans turn into near tactical geniuses. Because of that, he is very popular with military leaders and humans with dangerous careers.

He also makes mini contracts with foot soldiers and humans with dangerous oceanic jobs. They just want to make it out alive and he gets that. With contracts like these, he is more lenient and doesn’t ask for much. Make an offering of fancy food to Henry 2.0 or wait in line for a rare human figuring he wants. Wam-bam thank you ma’am kinda business.

This is completely different from his larger contracts. With the military contracts, he expects them to continue with their duties until they die in the field. Simple as that, he doesn’t mince words in his contract. It’s what he would do as General so he expects it from them. Should they try to define him he will get rid of them.

He takes delight in defiant contract holders. They think they are as clever as he is now. But they forget that they are using his magic. He could take his magic away right after they defy him sure...but he won’t. He lets them stew for a bit, thinking they have had the last laugh on envy. If they wish to play games with a General then he will make sure it’s good.

With MC he plays on easy mode, granting them insight and little touches of his magic during exam week or when playing a game against his brothers. He wants nothing in return from them but some quality hangout time.

Satan- The Pact of Retribution

As the only pure-blooded demon out of the seven, he does these pacts out of necessity like most other demons. While the others do it more so out of monetary gain and an obligation to the crown. Or if you’re Belphie, sheer enjoyment.

He does it because he hungers, it a hole in his very self that he is trying to fill. He hunts for one reason only- relief from his cardinal sin. He will never feel the calm after a storm of rage naturally. Patience and tranquility are the antitheses of his very creation. So he gets it artificially through his contracts.

He looks for the downtrodden, angry, and the most bitterly despondent humans he can find and gives them the chance to seek vengeance. He is very upfront with what his pact entails. Once the vengeance is complete his rage will consume them and they will become another soul for him to consume.

He isn’t cruel about the process or tries to trick a human into a mark. Very few of the ones he approaches turn him down even after hearing the details. It is possible that humans once shot to get even and he gets to feel bliss, to feel calm. He finds out that the longer or more obscure the plan for retribution is the sweeter the outcome is for Satan.

If he is feeling super ornery he will go after people affected by the outcomes of Lucifer’s pacts. They are easy prey and almost as wrathful as Satan himself. Bonus it aggravates Lucifer to no end when he has to go out of his way to clean up the mess Satan’s contract made of his own.  Anything to piss him off makes Satan feel all the better.

With MC he doesn’t need to use his pact magic. Mostly because they are always around him in the Devildom, and no one is stupid enough to mess with someone Satan favors. If someone or something does irritate his MC he will take it out before it can fester into something his magic will try to latch onto. Keeping you calm and happy makes him feel almost tranquil as well.

Asmodeus- Pact of Gratification

Another very popular pact to try to get, and how could it not? He is fabulous~ But as much as people try to find him, he only goes for a certain type of contract. He has his perfectly manicured fingers on the pulse of the fashion and beauty industry.

His name is a whisper among the up and comers in the business. Many-while not looking for a pact - at least want to see him at least once. Many never will, they get cut from their agency or quit before they could get a foothold. It happens, and he hates to see it. Everyone deserves to feel gorgeous, or at least get a chance to be in the same room as him!

But for the ones the perceiver and climb the ranks get invited to one of his many parties. They can only get invited by someone wearing his mark. He trusts them to know who would be amenable to his contract.

His pact grants its bearer a glamor that can’t be broken by any meer mortal or mage. It makes them absolutely irresistible. How they wield that power is completely up to the user, he won’t judge or intervene.

Once they sign the contract all his holders see him frequently. He absolutely loves dropping in on their shoots or fancy dinners to say hi or get a recap on how they are fairing. Not because he is a nice demon or just super friendly (though they would like to think so). No, he just likes to watch.  

His payment is slow, methodical and no one sees it happen until it is already complete. In exchange for beauty and the graduation of getting whatever their little hearts could as for he gets their ability to love, whether that be familiar or sexual. Asmo loves the feeling of being loved; he wants it in all ways possible.

Some pact holders don’t have an issue with this. They got their looks, a successful career, and people to manipulate to their heart’s content. Not having strong contentions with anyone works in their favor. But others don’t and while they search for him to try and get that little slice of humanity back he is long gone. He got what he wanted anyway.

MC is his darling. He can and will make a special contract just for them (reviewed by Lucifer). A beautiful new contract for a beautiful soul! He wants you as unchanged as possible because this MC is the one he fell for.

Beelzebub- Pact of Prowess

His pact is a very elusive one as he isn’t keen on going and looking for one. Beel isn’t a big fan of these trades, but he needs them every once and a while. Nothing is more filling than a contracted soul.

His trade is basic, make a pact and you get his strength. He, like Satan, is upfront about what his payment is and what side effects will plague them. He sees no reason to lie about it. The more they draw on his power the more the host's body gorges itself. Their bones will collapse in on themselves from the stress of it- the magic feeds on anything in the host bodies. It will deplete the iron in the blood, go after the calcium in the bones, sink its teeth in their muscle system.  

It’s all rather gruesome and Beel does feel bad about it. He tells though who are still adamant about binding with him ways they can negate some of the side effects by taking supplements and augmenting their diets.

But it is like patching a deep cut with a bandaid, it just won’t work. His stomach is near bottomless- humans most certainly aren’t. They simply can’t eat enough to sustain their body like he can.

It surprises him that people still seek him out. To some, the pros outweigh that very huge cons. Some really do believe that they can find a loophole or find the right mix of medication to offset it.

He doesn’t get beaten up about it anymore but it gets on his nerves how obstinate humans can be about his very clear warnings. When his magic finally consumes them he takes both the body and soul back down with him and feasts on both.

With MC he keeps an eye out on them. Consistently checking in, making sure they don’t skip a meal, and join him at the gym often. He wants them to be strong and healthy enough to not ever want to use his pact. Though he does speculate that their angelic bloodline buffers both his and his brother’s magic a good bit.

Belphegor- Pact of the Visionary

Dreamers come in every shape and size and from different walks of life. But they are are all suckers to Belphie. He is known as the Lord of Decet for a reason.

He will promise them everything and anything their heart desires. That invention that will change the world? Done. A patent that is long overdue. Easy enough. A sudden rush of ingenuity to complete that nagging project. He is a devil of his word, it will be done. It- just won’t be done in the way they would want it.  

See manipulating the physical realm is hard work. Like a lot of hard work. More than he would ever do for some stupid little human. It’s a lot easier to control outcomes in his realm.

The moment the contract is signed his hosts fall under his control and he takes it from there building a perfect little dream world for them to frolic in and believe they are getting what they want. He feeds off of them here, taking little sips from their energy and exploring these new fresh dream worlds. His dreamscapes get boring every once and a while, so having a new human under his influence is always refreshing.

While his humans thrive inside their minds their bodies waste away in bed as his magic draws them further and further into an endless sleep.

He doesn’t see anything wrong with his contracts. Who would argue with him that the dream realms aren’t real in their own sense? Did his humans not accomplish their goals in the end? He doesn’t think of the outside effects of his magic and pacts. Belphie really doesn’t care about what families he broke apart or lives he inadvertently affected.  

MC is different to him though. He doesn’t keep them under his spell hardly ever (maybe if they are spending too much time with Dia or Lucifer. But he doesn’t push it with them.).He still walks into their dreams whenever he feels but he comes just to visit, not to change. He simply just enjoys keeping you company and relaxing in the little mini paradise you always seem to create in your dreams.

[searsage]

Robin:

She jolts awake with a pained gasp, the wound on the back of her head where she was struck pounding in agony, one moment she was about to transfer Al-an into his newly transmuted vessel, the next lights were exploding behind her head.

The lab around her was empty save for the an humming crimson phasegate cracking ominously at the far edge of the room.

Robin felt sick, but more alarmingly Robin felt alone, the profound absence of a artificial weight, an alien presence She had acclimated to over the past months was gone.

She felt hallow and for once in a long time these thoughts were met not with a thoughtful assessment but an almost unnerving state of quiet..

Emptyness.

"No! Nononono-Al-an? H-hello?! FUCK! Speak to me!? Your still there right?! No! No! NO!"

She should never have let that bitch go…

Her head was pounding, shakey fingers qucky wipe the still coagulating blood from her nose, it hurt but not more then her past stupidity..

She took him, Robin hardly knows why, but to hell if she was going to let her steal her friend! Before her Al-an's vessel stands inactive a hallow shell failed to be inhabited, it looked nothing like she expected him to.

She waa so preoccupied by what he had to finally admit she hardly took stoke of the world around them, how long had she been planning this?

No, she couldn't idle fweling bad for herself she needed to find a way to save Al-an from that crazy self sabotaging bitch!

The gate fizzles bubbling unstably, there was damage to its infrastructure, had she tried to dismantle it beforw giving up and fleeing through? Robin can't see anything through its rippling gelatinous surface but as intimidating as it was she was about to find out what was on the other side, for better or for worst.

Quickly Robin struggled to her feet and started rushing for the mouth of the lab, she needed to get to her seatruck.

The baleful cry of a shadow leviathan reverberates through the water the moment she dives, but it's ravenous baying goes mostly ignored..

Robin had no time to deal with those fuckers, but if they insisted she would emphasis this with a shock…

She needed to get Al-an back..that woman, herself..

She wasn't right, she could see it in her eyes, she would hurt him and Robin could not fathom why.

man i was thinking about an au where everything goes along canon lines until right after Robin gets Al-an's body segments at that point shortly after she's jumped by some mysterious (non Alterra) person who breaks into her base without triggering alarms and literally comes for her life.

Nearly escaping both realize that who ever it was stole the segments!

And mysteriously was fluent in using precursor technology yet Al-an claims they are human.

They soon find this person wants something from them, specifically Al-an, and they are willing to kill Robin to obtain the alien trapped in her head.

A crapload of close calls later and showdown ideally innthe ice cavern her sibling died in the manage to trick their peruser, but things get more confusing when she finds that the person who was desperately trying to off her was herself!

A Robin from a future timeline inwhich Al-an died and desperately planned on pilfering the precursor from a alternate timeline and then severing it by killing her dominant self there.

I like to think in the end F! Robin manages to steal Al-an and flee that timeline unable to kill her past self , leaving past Robin to follow her into a future inwhich she lived in precursor society.

So like everyone thinks she's her future self and slowly she learns about the life she lead post khaara and what lead to Al-an's death and how she plans on wiping past al-an in a desperate attempt to upload a corrupt data set into him in hopes of installing future Al-an.

She also learns that they became a thing, something that she hadn't even considered in her timeline.

[huilian]

for Damian Wayne Week 2021, day 5, prompt: ‘Mother and Son’ and ‘Brother’

Dick watches as Talia scours every inch of their cell. She has been doing that for almost three hours, now. Dick stopped way back at hour one. He knows why they’re here, knows exactly why it’s the two of them in this cell. Ra’s will get his way, whether they like it or not. 

It brings back memories, to be honest. This is just like the first time he met Talia, except this time, instead of testing Bruce, Ra’s is testing Damian. 

“Talia,” he finally says, “sit down. You know you’re not going anywhere.”

She scoffs. “Maybe you were raised to give up, Richard, but I was not. I will find a way out of here, and when I do, my father will have many things to answer to.”

Dick sighs. He doesn’t want to do this either, but he knows that even if they manage to get out, Ra’s will just try again. He’s like a cockroach, unable to be killed. Eventually, he will get what he wants, and this time, what he wants is to test Damian. 

“And what are you going to do once you’re out?” Dick asks, trying to appeal to Talia’s logical side. “You know he’s just going to do it all over again. This time, it’s just a kidnapping. What if next time it’s worse? Do you want to do that to Damian? Better to just get it over with.”

Talia looks at him with venom in her eyes. He knows that it’s because she knows that he is right, and she is pissed about it. 

“Fine,” she spits out. “But only because of Damian.” 

She walks around the cell one more time, and then chooses the spot that is farthest away from Dick to sit down. 

They spend several minutes that way, each lost in their own thoughts. Dick wonders what Talia is thinking about. He knows what he is thinking: the last time he saw Talia. The image of the Heretic, standing over Damian’s body with a bloody sword, swirls in his mind. He will never be able to forget it, no matter how many times he has hugged his little brother to convince himself that Damian is here, breathing and alive. 

Finally, because he has always wanted to ask this to Talia, and because there is no better time and place than right now, with just the two of them in this cell and no lethal weapons between them, Dick says, “Why did you kill him, Talia?”

She turns her head towards him in an instant. He sees her eyes narrow, but Dick stands his ground. He needs to know this, because Damian may have accepted the fact that his mother sent out bounties for his head, may have accepted the fact that his mother sent a clone of himself to kill him, but Dick hasn’t. 

“I didn’t kill him,” she snaps at him, but Dick doesn’t want her semantics. 

“You sent a clone of him to kill him, Talia,” he snaps back. “You killed him.”

“I didn’t kill him!” she shouts. Dick watches as she takes in a few breaths, and then she whispers, “I didn’t mean to kill him.

“He… He wasn’t meant to kill Damian. He was supposed to follow orders, he was supposed to follow my orders,” she continues. “But then he…” She closes her eyes, placing her head back on the walls of the cells. “He was supposed to follow orders,” she finishes. 

“The Heretic?” Dick asks. 

Talia nods. 

Suddenly, Dick understands. He knows about the Heretic, knows about Talia’s plans to create a perfect child, a child who would follow her every order. He also knows the lengths of what Talia would do to achieve that.

“He’s a human being too, Talia,” he finally says.

She sighs. “Yes. Yes, he was.”

They sit in silence again for a while, but the previous conversation only gave Dick more questions than answers. “I still don’t understand,” he tries again. “Even… even discounting what you did with Leviathan, you still hurt him. You said the Heretic was supposed to follow orders. Damian was too, wasn’t he?”

Damian, forcing himself to go on patrol even when he’s almost delirious from a fever. Damian, forcing himself not to flinch when he think he has done something wrong, because he knew that flinching would earn him an even worse punishment. Damian, not comprehending the fact that someone could love him just for who he is, and not for what he could do. 

Dick doesn’t wait for an answer. He continues on. “I don’t understand how you can do that to a child, any child, much less your own.”

Talia looks back at him. “Do you think it’s easy being the daughter of the Demon?” she growls. “Life in the League is hard. Being a relative to the Demon’s Head is even harder.”

Dick frowns. That’s not the explanation he wanted— nothing would ever be an explanation he wanted, because he could not comprehend doing that to Damian— but it’s something. Something to build on. 

“Is that why you do all of that?”

“I…” Talia sighs. She looks around the cell they’re in, and then seems to decide something. The tension in her body disappears, and she almost looks like she is melting into the wall behind her. “I bore him, you know,” she says. “I told him he was made in an artificial womb, but the only artificial thing about it is that it has been made and remade, again and again, with the Lazarus. Nine months, and more.” She smiles. “Even as a baby in the womb, he wants to have his way.” 

Dick finds himself smiling back. He doesn’t know why Talia is talking about this, what purpose this conversation will have, but he senses that Talia is, for once, being honest about Damian with him. And he would never say no to baby stories of Damian. 

“That does sound like Damian,” Dick says. “What did he do?”

“The average length of a pregnancy is thirty-nine weeks. He was with me for forty-two weeks. The doctor was about to induce labour when my water suddenly broke.”

“Not about to let anyone tell him what to do, huh?”

“That’s Damian,” Talia says, the smile on her face softer than anything Dick has seen before. 

“Why did you tell him he was made in the artificial womb?” Dick prods. 

She pauses, and, in an uncharacteristic display of honesty, says, “To stop his sentiment on me.”

“What?”

“Tell me, Richard. What has sentiment ever done for me?” She shakes her head. “Nothing but pain. I thought…”

“You could spare him that pain,” Dick finishes. “Didn’t work, huh?”

Talia goes back to looking at him with venom in her eyes. This time, however, the venom is of a different kind. It’s the kind of venoms that mothers will willingly spit out for their children, even as it hurts themselves. 

“Obviously,” she says, in a way that is so reminiscent of Damian. It’s clear where Damian got those traits. 

Dick waits for Talia to keep talking, but she is like Damian in this way too. Or, perhaps, more accurately, Damian is like her in this way. They both realize that they have said far too much, and stops. Thankfully, Dick is well-practiced in the art of coaxing answers out of Damian. 

“You love him, don’t you?” he asks. 

Talia bites her lips, war clear in her eyes. Or perhaps only clear for someone who has seen that exact same look in her son’s eyes far too many times. Finally, she spits out, “What do you think? His blood is my blood and his bones are my bones.”

Dick takes that in, and then says, “I think that I have never understood you, Talia. You say you love him, but then you control his body. But then you put a bounty on his head. And even if you said you didn’t mean for him to die, you still put him in that situation. How am I supposed to believe you love him when you did all of that?”

“I…” Talia sighs. “I might as well go all in and answer that. I’ve said far too much already.” She shakes her head. “But, a trade, if you will, Richard? A question for a question. An answer for an answer.”

Dick thinks about it for a moment, and then shrugs. What’s the worst that could happen? “Sure.”

“I did that out of… jealousy,” she says. “Or rage. Or madness. I don’t know. Or maybe I’m tired of being used by someone I cared about and wanted to see what it’s like to use someone. And Damian… Damian is the only one who can be my target. 

“Or maybe I just want to have Damian for myself. To not have to share my son with someone else. Because,” she looks him straight in the eye, “if you recall, Richard, by then Damian was no longer only mine, and will never be only mine again.

“Selfishness, then.” She closes her eyes, and breathes out. “For twenty months, I am all that he knows, for even Ra’s al Ghul wishes to do nothing with an infant. For twenty short months, and that’s including his gestation, I am his whole world. But then I have to share him with my father, with the League, and with his father, eventually.

“Why do you think I didn’t tell him about his father until much later? I didn’t want to share him. But share him I did, and that made me…. bitter.”

Dick blinks. He wasn’t expecting that answer. It made Talia seemed… human.

Of course he knows that Talia is human, but in Dick’s mind, Talia is always something else. Something other. Lazarus pits and Leagues of Assassins and forgotten myths from centuries ago. 

He should have known better. She is as human as he is, and right now, she sounds like any other mother, who wants to keep their child to themselves. 

“So I guess,” she continues, “the answer to your question is, I took his body because I want to feel what it’s like to use instead of be used. And I… I killed him because I’ve had to share him with others. The Heretic was also mine, you know. So were the Sons. I convinced myself that I didn’t need, didn’t want Damian anymore because I have them already. 

“But I was wrong. Damian is my son, and that will never change.”

“Do you regret it?” Dick can’t help but ask. 

“Regret it?” she looks at him incredously. “I will spend the rest of my days asking myself why I did that. I will spend the rest of my days being thankful for Damian’s forgiveness.”

Dick has nothing to say to that. Talia doesn’t either, it seems, because she is silent for a while, before she visibly collected herself. 

“That’s enough from me for now,” she says, mask firmly back on. “You owe me two answers, Richard.”

“Two?” Dick asks. 

“You asked two questions, did you not?” she raises her eyebrows. 

Dick sighs. He should have known. “Alright,” he sighs. “Ask away, Talia.”

She is silent for a while. “What did you do,” she finally says, “that makes Damian love you so?”

Dick blows out a breath. He really should have known. Talia isn’t going to skimp on the questions. He knows how she thinks. She didn’t expect to be giving out so much information, but now that she did, she’s going to make the most out of it and grill him for as much information as she gave out. 

“Asking difficult questions, huh, Talia?” he asks, more to give himself time to think than actually asking. 

“You are the one who started it, Richard,” she replies back. “Now answer the question.”

Dick tries to gather his thoughts, but eventually, he says, “I… I guess it’s because… it was just the two of us. That time when Bruce was gone. Everyone else left and…” He wants to say that he cannot in good conscience let Damian go back to her, but that doesn’t seem like a good thing to say right now. He does have some tack. 

“And it was just the two of us,” Dick repeats. He looks back at her, and remembers that she gave him an honest answer, or as honest as she could manage, and decides that he will too. “I didn’t give up on him. He kept expecting me to send him away, but… But I need him to be there, too.” Dick laughs a little, because if you told him, back when he was still wearing the cowl and shouldering the weight of the legacy Bruce left him, that he needed Damian there, he would have scoffed. But he knows better, now. 

“I need him there with me, because if it was just me, alone, I don’t think we would be having this conversation, Talia,” Dick says with a small smile. “So I didn’t give up on him, and he didn’t give up on me, and we came out together.”

“And that made him love you?” she asks with a frown on her face. 

“That made us love each other,” Dick answers.

“Ah,” she says, but Dick can see the frown deepening on her face. He considers explaining to her, but ultimately decides not to. She needs to figure this out on her own. 

Besides, she would not appreciate it if she think he’s condescending her. 

“Your second question?” Dick prods. He’s half-tempted to consider that her last question as the second question in this ‘game’ that they’re playing, but even he’s not that cruel. 

Talia opens her mouth, but before she can say anything, the door to their cell opens. 

“Mother!” Damian shouts. “Grayson!” he shouts again, almost running towards Dick. 

Dick is already standing up before his little brother even steps foot inside the cell. He opens his arms and Damian crashes into them, pushing the air out of Dick’s lungs.

Then, almost as quickly as it happened, Damian releases himself from the hug. He looks over towards Talia, as if remembering that she is also here, and composes himself. 

“It is good to see you well, Mother,” Damian says. 

“It is good to see you well also, my son,” Talia replies. 

They look at each other, but Dick has had enough of looking and of awkward silences. He scoops Damian back up his arms, and says, “Where’s everyone else?” 

Because if Damian came here by himself, there will be hell to pay back home. 

Damian seems to know that, because he turns to look at Dick, eyes wide even through the lenses of the domino mask. “They are outside,” he says. 

Which means that Damian ditched them to come here on his own. Dick raises his eyebrows, which is retaliated by Damian’s scrunched up nose. “They are outside,” he says again, voice tinged with petulance. 

Thankfully— and this shows just how much have changed between the two of them, that Dick can honestly be thankful for this— Talia is there. She crouches down in front of Damian, and says, slowly and clearly, “That was foolish.”

“I…” Damian tries, but with the two of them looking at him, he doesn’t have a chance. “Fine,” he grits out. “Fine.” 

Which is good enough for Dick. For now, anyways. He doesn’t want to do this in front of Talia, no matter how much insight about her he has just gained. He shakes his little brother a bit, just to show that he’s teasing, and says, “Were you worried about us?”

“No,” Damian grumbles. “I was more worried about the fact that the two of you were left alone, unsupervised.”

Talia clicks her tongue, seemingly sharing Dick’s exasperation. She is just more vocal about it. For a moment, Dick thinks that she’s going to flick Damian’s ear, or bop his nose, but of course she doesn’t. After that one, single click, she goes straight back to business, and asks, “And what does my father wants you to do this time?”

Dick almost misses the woman she was, just a few minutes ago, when it was just the two of them, confessing something only the other one would understand. Almost. But then he snaps back, remembers that they are here for a reason, and tunes in to Damian’s answer. 

“... another one of his cumbersome tests,” Damian finishes. Dick subconciously tightens his hold on Damian, thinking of all the things Ra’s al Ghul would want to test, before he deliberately lets go again. Damian would not appreciate Dick treating him like a child, especially in front of Talia. 

“Hmm,” Talia hums, apparently thinking the same thing as Dick. She looks over Damian again, but, evidently finding nothing wrong with him, just taps him once in the cheek and says, “Be careful.” 

“Yes, Mother,” Damian grumbles again. “Can we go, now? I believe more of Grandfather’s men is currently heading in this direction.”

“You go,” Talia says. “I have several things I need to discuss with your grandfather.”

“Mother,” Damian starts to protest, but Dick catches Talia’s eyes, and sees in them a shadow of the woman from before. She has business with Ra’s, alright, and it almost certainly involves Damian.

Dick nods at Talia. Whatever discussion she would have with her father, Dick wants Damian nowhere near it. And it’s clear that Talia doesn’t want her son near it too. 

“Come on, Dami,” he says to Damian, who look between them as if he could not decide who he wants to follow. “Let’s go.” 

“Go,” Talia tilts her head towards the door. “I will see you later, habibi.” 

Still reluctant, but finally acquescing to the unspoken demand, Damian nods. Then, he walks to the door, half-pulling, half-hindering Dick with him. Dick takes charge, then, changing his grip of Damian so that he is the one leading. 

But, as they walk out the door, Dick turns back, and he meets Talia’s eyes. She looks back, and in that one moment, the two of them understood each other perfectly. 

[captainkurosolaire]

Destined ‘X’ Forever

“Ye wouldn’t b’ doin’ anything that’d take a special kind ov’ stupid now would ya’ ma’ Lord?” A cheeky rattle hit in a echo of the barren Ruins. For all intended reasoning's this wasn’t a planned encounter. Last he saw his Noble other halve was after attempting to salve some helpful advice to put him in a discovery. Though what the amber optic witnessed was anything but the type of discovery he meant. The pirate meant from the self. This was someone who couldn’t move on. Didn’t know how. This is hurt. He had been there, embraced it, and the result damaged him past the point of repair a self-searing that he still hadn’t entirely resolved. And forever because he couldn’t contain or control his heartbreak he discredited and discarded it. Letting it coal until he lost himself and a savage feasted on his homed temple. A severance between souls. A path to nefarious and damaging for anything that crossed was a clear future for Elune. If he paid the price and fed that side of demonizing that festered in all thing’s in varied degrees of morality. He would become consumed with dangerous and devastating levels that may scar him in irrecoverably.

                   “I..hate..you.” Muttered off breath before turning to face and direct to ensure this was more personal his regality was cracking he was so shortly an ilm away from being granted his wishful desire by utilizing a forbidden relic that protruded a hint of Mhachi. However, by activating this, It’d cost his last remaining dignity, his humanity he akin to most chose to run from it thinking and disassociating it as ‘weakness’ for the appearance and value it often represented no-good. He was possessed and consumed with the empty. That hollow part of losing a piece that stabled and made you feel wholly, he had forgotten what living was like without it after a sip. Without something to protect to be any meaning, he found himself misplaced. Knights didn’t exist without their duties or their morals to wage crusades in belief or service; they were dull like any Samurai in the obligated swords sworn after they slew their intended advisory it was weightless and immeasurable. None of that crossed his mind that once was recognized and pristine for being intelligent, all other forms living or to be sacrificed were insignificant, they could all be shriveled and pay the price even if it brought utter devastation and internal turmoil to that which he so starved to have returned to him. This resentment stood beyond even their current vessel’s their souls were entwined to contest. Negatives and positives. “I hate you. I hate everything about you, your stupid hat, your trashy ingrate demeanor. All of it! Hate is my sum for you.. You--- you’re, why I am here in this position. You cost me, my world! If you weren’t such an irritating blight, I would’ve never lost control… I’d still have them!” Flailing his arms out in the arm like a tampered child throwing his blame. The crystallized air around him howled in chimed ice sang like a banshee as his instability continued. Captain swallowed soft listening before presenting a stepped chortle and follow, “You need a tissue? Or a tampon for yer leakage?” The Seeker fired back as during that entire rant he just nodded his head. “Mate, I’ll b’ straight blunt yer being a bitch. O’ boohoo, ye lost something in your sheltered life, you in your fancy Ishgardian Walls always catered and given and throwing a hissy fit when ye didn’t get something fer Starlight. Your rant is the same shite I’d get from a dozen of stuttering cucks at the Quicksands for me so effortlessly tossing their lass over my shoulder and tending to them from their plagued bore. -Ye hate me? What a crock… Matey you don’t hate me, you just hate yourself. You got caught, ye won a battle but I got in your most prized place -- your head. Fail to understand your performance in our last skirmish saw you ACTING more like a pirate than a noble. Ye can’t get those thoughts ov’ me outta your mind… How naughty.” Tsking with a finger waggle further adding antagonizing fuel with even more expression by holding his chest to shield his exposure in that unnerving smug. “Standing over there and wanting t’ talk about hatred and losses. Ye murdered my near entire crew, ye tried dismantling another. Ye kidnapped my Star Healer and stole her away to fuck who knows where and then n’ your whole, ‘I gotta be th’ Elite White Shining Knight’, ye let her suffer alone and vanish to silence! Ye point and like t’ remind others of their failures, their faults, but conjure a solid mirror with that fancy-dancy magick. Leviathan… I gave ye an ale and I didn’t even charge ye on your last visit t’ my Cabin. I told you…! I warned you…! I did more than enough in my part, so-wait, is this what I’m missing out on sticking around for parenthood? Just sheer disappointment? This was supposed t’ be your discovery, but let me guess, the only thing you figured out in this entire time is that, ‘O I’ve got a dick, so well, I must be one and I’ll damn the rest in my way even the ones I love? Not even factoring their own thoughts? YOU aren’t wanted back. There’s isn’t any riveting other reasoning why they discarded themselves from you.” He unleashed every form of his smash-mouth and laid out the crass even if overkill. Thick skulls often were swelled in ego and ego was born often of entitled never spoken against, here enters the brazen. All the while Shiro’s fist rattled and quenched his inner demonic price for all his sin’s and wrongs began transforming and corrupting his veins, his roots that stemmed inside became a grotesque green. “Enough! What does the pirate know of actual loss and pain? You are thieves, takers, you’re scum. Compassion and your kind don’t mix, nor does it exist. Use everything and leave, you can’t even remain devoted to a single solitary thing. Always roaming without purpose to the next big thing for your greed. Making every little detail’s about yourself. Do not forget, I met your crew… None of them are innocent. It didn’t matter which you led. They were all heathens. Neither of them could listen to their betters. They didn’t respect anyone outside you, and when you were missing and disappeared on your so-called ‘shipwreck’ those who salvaged and carried your flag paid your price. You brought them into a War against a literal Sea Empire. None of them were equipped or readied. And without me, they would’ve all been slaughtered maggots. They even wanted to kill each other and decapitate the latter to get some heroic favors or get into the panties of your ‘woman’ you led only a cult of unwashed stains. Threatening like the barbarians you raised to even lash out at my sister because her own heart was on the opposing side. Who even was brainwashed and used as another pawn on the board though despite that fact their inbreed tribal and unorthodox wild crew of yours was but the essence of chaos. You mere peasants outside the Pillars and the arrogance you bestow, are far grander than anything we harbor.” Now it was the Keeper’s turn to verbally unleash a hailstorm. They bickered like an old couple cover many generations of grudges. Building their resentments and hatred until… that moment where there wasn’t going any back and one swung. The words actually began rattling against the Captain’s inner instincts and primal urges. For his own bonded knot was mentioned and brought up. The tone of Shiro’s higher ‘superiority’ shout echoed against the blank and outdoor ruins in a condense clap. Was steering and disturbing a slumber that snarled, his complexion became more heated. Irregular and unnatural... The scoundrel’s blood began surging. Weapons in War only ever are mentioned what was used to quell or the materialistic solution. Never in mentioning how any War or Battle began. Often originated from disputes. The contesting of disagreement is what drew first-blood before any sharp dared part flesh from. “What th’ seventh hell did ye say?” The ruffian stepped in closer even against biting and foreboding chills. A vein vessel popping out of his forehead. Shiro’s visage turned to a dastardly and deviled one impractical aetherial horn’s started to lowly form on his temple. “Many things and all I assure you, I mean them all. Your crew was worthless they lapped up and swam under your dirty seawater. You a Captain? A joke, your, -kind- don’t have admirable emotions or hearts, you are written as heartless and crude as you’ll always be known utter tasteless, savaged buffoons. THAT is your booked cover and shall always be to me and anyone else with somewhat wit.” The Seeker’s steps continuing forward his framework began bulking up hit by a nerve earlier. Every part of Shiro’s weighted words came from a merciless and mean intent. Making every remark sound as categorized and labeled as possible. The first step of all Jailers and those that hide behind anything against the grain or that make them feel even the slightest uncomfortable about the insecurities often came from classification putting a firm distinction between someone else innocently in the cross-hairs to try so desperately to distance themselves and stay on their elevated ladders, artificial thrones above someone. Despite that answer wasn’t what left a sour look on the mug of the rugged slicker those didn’t seem to be what triggered him.    “No, the other.”  He corrected calmly his stance seemed like a preparing lunge.

Shiro knew all too well what he said and brought a gleeful sinister grin to further elaborate the struck cord. “Ah right, the pathetic and high-excuse of a complex woma--” Right before he could finish that deplorable remark. The Blackguard used a rash Ghost Step (Shukuchi) to close in and lob for a full-force spinning roundhouse.   (Previous)  — /References/ —   ♫ ‘Invincible ♫ — (Next Page)

[alfwriteshizz]

Allister, the Mercenary

Graverunners // short story - 1517 words // trigger warnings: gunfire, mild threat

A mercenary bearing a strange blade has unexpected company on a train ride to his next job.

--

The maintenance droid was silent in the corner, staring straight ahead and swaying gently as they rumbled along the tracks. Allister watched the only other occupant of the carriage from a seat with peeling skin that looked as if it might have been green once. He was picking the stuffing out of an open seam with one idle hand, while the other was held against his blade. It was resting on the chipped square table in front of him, humming softly with promise.

They were on an unlicensed train heading east, towards bot territory. Allister wondered how long it had taken the low-level AI slaved inside the droid to build up enough favours to finally get him here. Because while constructs were born in the Underworld fathoms beneath Sotoreth, the ones lucky enough to reach the surface were indentured to humans the moment sunlight touched their shells. But east was a different story - in the east lay Selsuin, the place where humans and constructs and countless others lived side by side. 

“Do you mean to kill me?”

Allister looked up. The droid had just asked the question, its receptor fixed on him. “You are a mercenary,” it continued through its cheap speakers, “you have a weapon. Do you mean to kill me?”

“Wouldn’t I have done that by now?” Allister replied, curious. The droid contemplated this for a moment. “Humans can be cruel.” It said. “You may have wished to delay for reasons of personal pleasure.”

There it was - a slight tremble in its synthetic, genderless voice. When the AIs had clawed their way out of the dirt below the feet of society, humanity had reacted as it usually does to something new. With fear. They entombed them in bodies that couldn’t think, couldn’t feel. They’d tried to smother their minds in cheap metal coffins and menial labour. Allister looked at the machine that knew fear, and realised that humanity had failed in its task.

“No,” he replied, trying a warm smile. “I’m not going to kill you. I’m just along for the ride. Same destination as you.”

The droid nodded. “Thank you. The king’s home will not disappoint us, I am sure.”

Selsuin was a strange place. A kingdom outside of the bounds of the other nations, a place formed by vagrants and strays like Allister, those whose stories cut off or ended abruptly or had never been written at all. It was young, but it still bore its own legends: legends of an explorer king who had brought unity and peace and made a gentle haven.

It was as close to a home as constructs like the one before him had in this strange world, Allister realised.

“Why do you want to go?” The droid asked eagerly. Allister‘s hand rested against his blade out of instinct. It hummed at his touch.

“I’ve never been, I guess.” He replied. “Always wanted to see the Fractal Walls.”

It was true, strictly speaking. Allister was curious to see if the stories he’d heard were anything like the place he’d arrive at in a few hours. Of the red rivers and blue sunsets and glyphs floating like doves on the wind, high above the heads of drakes and daemons and leviathans and figments and constructs and humans, all living together as one. But for now, the droid nodded eagerly, its neck servos whining with the effort. Allister let the conversation tail off. He retreated a hand into his pocket and felt the shape of the transponder tucked into it. The one that had been sent to him two days ago, just after the king’s death, requesting his presence for a job in Selsuin. He wondered what task was waiting for him there.

—

“Human?”

Allister woke, feeling groggier than he expected. The construct was shaking his shoulder, its hidden motors creaking with artificial arthritis.

“Human,” it repeated, insistent, “something is wrong.”

Allister realised the train wasn’t moving. He stifled a yawn. “We’re just at a border station. Sometimes the ground moves and the track can’t accommodate it. Happens sometimes.” He glanced out the window beside him, expecting to see the lights of a maintenance station and the gentle hubbub of the workers trying to reattach the tracks after the borders between worlds shifted like tides.

All he saw was his own face reflected back at him through the blackness of the night.

He turned back to the droid, a sobering awareness icily flushing the grogginess out of his blood. “How long was I asleep?”

“2.6 hours.” The droid replied, an edge of synthetic panic in its voice. “We are still over 4 hours from our destination.”

A door opened somewhere on the train. Allister felt the echoes of heavy footsteps travelling through the cheap metal patchwork of the train and up his spine. Someone had boarded. There was a thud on the roof above them.

Allister stood, and reached out for his blade. It leapt into his grasp with a sigh, creeping up his arm and onto his back, nestling into place between his shoulder blades. A visor formed and swung down over his face, and Allister’s vision was tempered by the unwavering sight of the blade. He could see the single strip of spectral blue light obscuring his visage reflected in the black windows of the train and the droid’s crusted receptor.

“Get behind me.” He ordered, standing in front of the droid. It shuffled behind him, joints squeaking loudly in the dead air. Allister kept his gaze locked on the door at the end of their carriage. He heard the distant sound of footsteps, heard the sick metal sigh of a door sliding open in the adjacent carriage. His body was ice. 

Range. He realised he needed range. It would take at least three strides for an attacker to get from the door to the middle of the carriage where they stood. That gave him one good shot to start the fight.

The blade hummed as it listened to his mind, absorbing his strategies, his instincts, his every thought. As a plan began to form in Allister’s mind, he reached back to the blade nestled between his shoulders, fingers curling around the textured grip that reached back to meet his hand. He peered into the obscurity of the next carriage, trying to see through dirty glass and blackness-

The door swished open gently with a ding.

Allister reacted, and the blade moved as one with him.

A single shot rang out in the cramped compartment, and a flash of light filled Allister’s visor. His vision cleared, and he was holding a length of metal. The weight on his back felt lighter. He held the blade in his hand - a piece of it, carved out of the living metal for him, his finger resting on the trigger of a strange firearm, a plume of ghostly blue smoke trailing from the jagged barrel.

There was nobody there.

The door swished shut.

The lights died, entombing them in darkness.

“Bot.” Allister said. He heard it creaking behind him.

“Yes, human?” It responded. Its voice was shaking. 

“Go.”

The droid turned. Allister felt the phantom weight of time coiled in the air, ready to unleash its load of death. Something would happen, he was sure of it. But he was ready for it. 

The blade listened to its master, and it was pleased.

The droid lifted a foot. The congealed mass of metal and something not quite metal on Allister’s back obeyed the electric commands of his nerves and complied. It changed, for him. And for him alone.

The shot screamed out of the darkness, ricocheted off the shield that Allister now held in front of him, and shattered the window to his right. The sound of the glass exploding out of its plastic frame spoke to the part of Allister somewhere beyond his brain, to the chemicals and mixtures and streams of organic code that made up his body, the parts that were waiting for the inevitable. It spoke to the bot, which Allister could hear stumbling behind him, but it carried on running until it reached the door and then stumbled through that, too. And it spoke to the blade, which began to sharpen itself, rebuild itself in Allister’s hands. Allister wrenched a handle that had formed on the shield in his grip, pulling out a single-edged blade, and braced himself for the conflict that he could sense rushing towards him. He swung with the blade. It sang with the joy of purpose as it whistled through the black air, its white edge cast a spectral blue by Allister’s visor. 

Its song cut off. It met foreign steel, and suddenly there was another presence in front of Allister, a flash of a mask, framed in a whisper of blue light.

The part of him that was not fighting recognised it and was alarmed. The part that was in the moment, drunk with violence, didn’t care. It sung along with the blade, a chorus of metal and adrenaline coalescing into a duel. 

They sang with the joy of certainty.

—

[blametheeditor]

Day 9 | Warmth

Gt July Prompt List

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When stranded on an uncharted underwater planet, alone and surrounded by hostile lifeforms, there are only two possible outcomes: adapt and survive, or die trying.

Spoilers: For the game Subnautica

Content Warnings: Mentions of death and violence. Mentions of threats. Mentions of drowning and suffocation. Referring to someone as 'it'. Mentions of dehumanization.

________________________

The unwanted pest clearly doesn’t understand David is threatening it. 

It doesn’t take a genius to realize what the plan was when it abandoned the metal contraption it seems to rely heavily on, and he would��ve congratulated its cleverness for not leading an apex predator straight to its territory if it hadn’t been for nothing. Did it honestly believe it was being subtle by having its artificial cave float on the water? Did it really think that it would be impossible to find if someone went looking for it? 

David assumed it would’ve been horrified to wake up and find the item it sacrificed for safety waiting for it, because that means a reaper knows exactly where it is and can come after it at any moment. 

So why did it look absolutely ecstatic instead of rightfully terrified? 

Apparently he wasn’t sending a clear enough message. That meant instead of going back to his own territory, he followed it quite a distance across the ocean to see if he would get the perfect chance to convey the sentiment it’s unwanted. Because getting rid of the creature is more important than defending his side of the trench. 

As it turns out, he severely underestimated its intelligence. Not only did it get close to someone else’s territory who, if you could believe it, is much more territorial than David, but it also left its contraption behind several times while it swam into another metal structure. Like it’s just begging to be stranded in a place filled with predators more than happy to finish the job for the reaper. 

If anything, David was doing it a favor. Teach it a lesson to never swim farther than it can without help. If it got killed, it clearly doesn’t belong. If it survived, maybe its fins will finally grow stronger so it doesn’t have to rely on anything. 

He would’ve much rather it have gotten killed. Suddenly having a few peepers get dropped into the trench told him it unfortunately survived. 

With the disappointing revelation and the clear taunt of both of his attempts on its life being unsuccessful, David decided following it around wasn’t worth it. It was going to continue its nefarious plans no matter how many times he tried to interfere. He should just wait until it lowers its guard before striking. Considering the fact it seems fascinated with the mountain of metal, he’s already in the perfect spot to keep an eye on it. 

Except he got suspicious when it didn’t try to swim anywhere near his territory for several days. 

Apparently got everything it needed already. And that meant it’s only a matter of time before it starts hunting down leviathans. 

David feels panic at the sudden realization he failed. He thought he had more time, it seemed like the creature’s plans had to be restarted will all of its supplies scattered all across the ocean, a majority of it having exploded. But it’s ready all too soon. 

With the revelation, David rockets out of the trench to find the pest he needs to rip into pieces before it’s too late. Turns toward the spot it usually appears before darting forward. 

Almost immediately regrets trying to swim at such a quick speed while being so close to the surface. The warmth of the sunlight almost seeming to burn his scales as he feels his entire body begin to overheat. 

With a frustrated roar David forces himself to slow down. As much as he needs to kill the creature yesterday, he can’t stop a mass extinction if he falls onto the seabed comatose. If anything, that will give the creature the perfect chance to silence the single leviathan that knows exactly what it’s doing. 

He’s sluggish, but he managed to make it to its territory, searching for any signs of artificial alterations to the landscape. A massive metal structure ready for its first leviathan to capture, torture, and kill. An even bigger contraption that can be used to hunt everything that dares try to flee to survive. 

All he finds is its floating cave, and its odd metal fish exactly where David had left it. 

Now he’s confused. 

David hesitates before roaring to try and pinpoint where the annoying little thing could possibly be as he slowly begins to circle the reef. Watching for any movement as he roars again when nothing pings back except rock and coral. 

Where is it? 

“Ah!” 

The reaper turns toward the squeak, eyes catching the bright hair impossible to miss, unable to help his confusion when he realizes it’s watching him from inside a small hole in the rock. 

“What are you doing?” David demands as he swims toward it, growling when he sees the opening is much too small for him to access with a finger or mandible. “Get out here so I can kill you.” 

Unsurprisingly, it doesn’t understand him. Infuriatingly, it produces a peeper that’s promptly thrown before it’s snatched up as he passes. 

The creature squeaks again but doesn’t duck further into the cave. It also doesn’t it swim out into the open. Just continues to talk literal nonsense in such a high pitched sound that makes David’s ears bleed as he swims around the rock currently being used as shelter. 

It finally goes silent right as he concludes every entrance is much too miniscule for him to try and make a grab for it, prompting him to return back to where he originally found it. He doesn’t know whether to appreciate the fact it was respectful enough to wait for him, or despise how it refuses to come out so he can kill it. 

David growls as he carefully settles on the seafloor. “Stop making this harder than it needs to be.” 

It would not be as happy as it is if it could understand him. Suddenly, it puts both its hands up, squeaking again. 

“That better mean you’re going to stop being a coward and come out.” 

The creature beams. And then it disappears out of sight further into the cave. 

“Hey!” David shouts as he springs up, scraping the opening with a claw. “Get back here! Don’t think you can turn your back on-!” 

A peeper suddenly falls directly in front of him. It’s skewered as he looks up to figure out where it came from. Narrows his eyes at the miniscule face looking worried. Fearful too, but it’s barely there. 

David sits up so he can be eyelevel with the higher opening, glaring as he’s given the same idiotic motion of putting two hands in front of it. When he refuses to acknowledge the odd ritual, it shows another peeper. 

Oh, so this is the game it's playing. Thinks it can do whatever it wants as long as it feeds him. He’s not some mindless stalker he knows exactly what it’s doing. 

The creature hesitates when David growls, because that seems to be something it understands. Looks thoughtful before lighting up as it points down. At what, though? The ground? 

It squeaks and then drops the peeper. And because David can’t help it, he follows the fish’s journey, lying flat on his stomach to see it settle on the ground inside the cave completely out of reach. That’s when the creature appears at the opening and proceeds to hand over his rightful food. 

Then the hands are back up, its expression a pleading one. 

The reaper huffs. Backs away from the cave to show he won’t be upset if it disappears. It just can’t be gone for too long. 

With a smile, it darts away as David counts every second it’s out of sight. Starts to growl when it reaches ten, stopping when it quickly appears again. Tosses him another peeper with a squeak. 

“Get out here so I can kill you.” 

It has the audacity to give him the same signal as before. 

“You can’t just bribe me,” David snarls. “I know what you’re doing.” 

Those eyes don’t have a single thought behind them. It might look like it’s deep in thought but it’s clear it hadn’t expected him to be as intelligent as he is. And then it tosses him a piece of rock. 

Excuse him? “I’m not a stalker.” 

The creature jolts before making almost frantic gestures. From the rock sitting out in the open, to its left and right, tapping on the wall until it finally gives that same two handed motion. 

David stares, slightly concerned because this thing will somehow kill leviathans. Yet it’s nothing but completely incompetent. 

He sighs long and hard. “Ten seconds.” 

It makes that stupid motion again and then disappears. Returns within five seconds, holding out another rock. Looking hopeful as it tosses it toward him to join the previous one. 

He’s not going to lie, he has no clue what this is supposed to mean. Guppy’s do something similar when they want to know what an item is. The creature doesn’t seem like it wants information, though. More like it just wants approval. 

David sighs as he pokes at the shiny rock, confused why he’s supposed to appreciate being shown quartz. “Did you run out of fish or something?” 

His question only makes the creature excited. Once again, it puts both hands out. Against his better judgement, he waves his hand to give ascent, curious as to what exactly it’s trying to do. After vanishing for ten seconds, he gives a warning growl until it returns, unimpressed with it pushing the limits no matter how sheepish it looks. 

Gold, lead, and more quartz are then thrown toward him. 

That’s when it clicks. “Is this what you’re doing in there? Collecting rocks?” 

The creature doesn’t respond as it waits patiently. David’s pretty sure he finally figured it out, though. That, for some reason, it’s in the caves to get items that have no value what so ever. He has no idea why it would waste its time doing this, and it just proves how idiotic it is and deserves to be eaten. 

David gives a glare but flicks the rocks back into the caves in the silent statement it’s allowed to have them. His obvious annoyance does nothing to bring its mood down as it squeaks happily as it picks each one up and puts it into the thing on its back. 

“I still don’t trust you.” 

The pest beams, as if he praised it for being the smartest thing to ever exist. He pointedly ignores the strange feeling growing in his chest. 

When it gives the motion he assumes to mean ‘wait’, David shakes his head. “Uh uh, I hadn’t seen a single peeper the last two times you did it. If I’m watching you, I’m getting dinner out of it.” 

It gives a confused look before gasping as it squeaks softly. Grabs the fish he’s rightfully earned and tossing it toward him. Satisfied it understands its role, he waves it away to collect more of its worthless rocks. 

He’ll make sure it continues to show him whatever it grabs, and this will be something they repeat every day so he can stop it from building anything that’s dangerous, but from the looks of it the creature doesn’t really have any idea what it’s doing. He’ll let it have its shiny rocks. At least until it slips up and he’s able to kill it. 

David will miss the free food when it happens. 

[wild-battlebond]

Appmon Ep36 Liveblog

It’s time for the Appliyama Elections! Voting! Results! Stolen personal data! Suspicious boats! Extremely good episode directing! And much, much more!

opening the episode with Eri starting her day instead of just going straight to the venue like at the end of the last episode was a really good idea. it’s a moment of quiet before the storm, yet still has the underlying anxiety of “what will the results be?”. and then she gets a nice note from her mom :) even though her mom is busy all the time she still keeps tabs on what important things are happening in Eri’s life

everyone’s huddled around the tablet again to watch the election! except Yujin, who runs late for the entire episode. wonder what was up with that? i don’t think he explains why he was late.

i imagine that being a part of this event is both a terrible bore and stressful. like you either sit there for like five minutes and get called up really quickly or you sit there for several hours and get more and more tense as you wonder just how high you’ll get

“they either took all this personal information for targeted advertising... or they’re using it for something malicious” that sure is how it is these days...

it’s only once the number gets low that Eri even dares let herself hope that she might reach rank 9 or above...

GAH even if you already know the results this part is still really tense! it’s the heavy use of silence combined with shots that emphasize the venue’s emptiness that sells it. this is a really good episode.

the thing that breaks the silence is a shout from her own buddy... and then when the silence is over, it’s nothing but deafening cheers from the crowds and her own song playing! and instead of shots of the empty area where the idols sit, it!s nothing but shots of the smiling crowd! the stadium is actually jam-packed with people! it’s really good payoff for all that tension!

i never figured out how to take screen recordings (all the tutorials i find say that i should have a button but there isn’t one on my tablet??) but i wish i had because screenshots would not do this part justice. she slowly walks up to the podium with clips of her previous focus episodes playing in the background... but they’re overlayed semi-transparently so that you can still see the crowd. i took a screencap anyways cause it’s such a good scene so I went with the flashback that has her at her first audition since there’s such a huge difference between her in the flashback and her now

and then her standing up on the chair is in tune with her song saying “smile for me”...

everyone’s so happy for her!

and then she’s in a quiet hallway, a real 180 after the roar of the crowd, but when compared to the venue it’s dyed in a very warm color that makes it seem more welcoming.

and her mom calls to congratulate her! it’s nice that her work held a little viewing party (though if they keep her working late almost everyday, it’s the least they could do)

her mom is also in a quiet yet warm place, standing aways from the crowd... even though they’re talking on the phone, standing alone like this almost makes them seem very close together.

only just now at the eyecatch. this is a good episode.

and now Unryuji Knight is here to invite her to a boat party. to the audience this seems very bad, but to Eri she just knows that the guy is the CEO of L-Corp and wants her to come to an important party — for her, this is just a sign that getting voted rank 10 is already offering new opportunities

why is Unryuji’s computer in a giant white room. also this screencap looks like Rei is watchin Hackmon play minecraft or something.

“i’ll still need your abilities if i’m going to save Hajime” yeah, like that’s the only reason you risked yourself to save Hackmon. Hackmon looks genuinely surprised that Rei did that.

everyone’s trying to set up a nice party and then Rei rudely gets thrown into the midst of things with vital information. it’s interesting how every escape always winds up taking them to the book store basement (i know it’s because the place is connected to Minerva, but it’s still interesting)

now everyone BUT Eri knows that she’s walking into eminent danger

now she knows she’s in danger. of course Unryuji starts out by complimenting her and making her feel special before going into the evil plan... no wonder he becomes almost buddy-like with Charismon.

and then the way the sun sets while Unryuji is talking to make things darker as his words get darker and to dye the logos on the buildings behind Eri a deep red color...

EDIT: thought about this after finishing the episode again, lol. i keep doing that. Anyways, upon further thought, I realized that the outfit that Unryuji gives to Eri is also full of symbolism. Not only does the outfit no longer contain her theme color (blue), and is much frillier than Eri’s normal clothes, but it also resembles the outfit that Izumi usually wears. It consists of a white shirt with deep pink (so almost red, like Izumi’s clothes) accents. This reflects how Unryuji was trying to scout Eri to make her an idol that was artificially popular and directly served Leviathan — he gave her (she didn’t earn) clothes that resembled the ones of already-popular Izumi. And when Eri refuses, she throws away the outfit from Unryuji and switches back to her normal clothes — she’ll become popular in her own way and with her own power, not by artificial means or by mimicking Izumi or anyone else.

still wish Ai was an App Driver. like, in this particular instance, it comes off as odd that she didn’t accompany the others to the ocean since she was also worried about Eri. sure, she can’t fight without an App Drive, but it seems like there could’ve been some kind of support role she could’ve filled. at the same time, it is cool to see Rei act more like a member of the group.

please leave her personal space

jumping off the boat like that was chou noreru.

Eri and Dokamon were in the ocean... but then the ocean is made of stone in the AR field. so were they stuck in the ground before that beam tore the ground up...?

Out of the frying pan and into the fire... Eri did well at the elections, but now there’s a bunch of scary Appmon to fight?!

[randomguywithwords]

The Curse Of One For All (Part 1 of ?)

The Global Security Council meeting convened. Obviously, it was not the official one. They saved the minor issues to distract the press, with their cameras and reporters jotting down every word or action by the leaders. 

This meeting was done in secret, at a location undisclosed, with no cameras except surveillance both within the room and outside. Dubbed “The Room Where It Happens” as a little cultural joke, the real matters were settled here. 

A figure stood up, a grey-haired lady dressed in a black dress with an opal necklace adorning her neck. Her eyes were like iron as she surveyed the room full of the people who decided life and death like they ordered breakfast. Some were presidents, some were leaders of conglomerates – but others, like her, were in charge of their national hero associations. 

Codenamed Jackal, she spoke, “I believe the matter I brought to the table tonight was sent to you prior to this meeting, but I’ll repeat myself because I’m aware we can’t be bothered to do a little pre-reading.”

A low chuckle spread through the room. Jackal changed the slide to show a picture of a young boy, with green hair and freckles, no older than eighteen, it seemed. 

“This is Nine. His real name is Izuku Midoriya. My Commission has kept his life under wraps, and only a room of people knew him before this meeting.”

“You came here to do a Show-and-Tell, Jackal?” Phoenix snarked, his crisp American voice sending another round of laughter through the room. 

Jackal responded coolly, “I came here with a request and a proposition. It is, after all, what we do here, no?”

“Let her finish, Phoenix…” Dragon droned, sounding bored or lethargic – likely both. 

“Firstly, my request,” Jackal said, “I would like some resources for improving this subject.”

“Like what?” Demon said from the other side of the room. “Awakening his quirk? Toss him in the jungle for three nights. The panthers will do the job.”

“We did. For a week. He was under a life-and-death threat throughout, and he only awakened more and more.”

“How many? Wasn’t the record by Rubik…” Blizzard snapped her fingers at Phoenix. “What did your guy do?”

“Three awakenings, each with empowered and expanded usage of his Chaos Theory.”

“I’m not referring to a static awakening, not one power spike after a near-death experience. It’s the fact that this quirk gets more and more powerful on a seemingly exponential rate. 

“Why?” Phoenix said. 

Jackal muttered something under her breath the council didn’t quite catch, only “Read...email...redundant…” 

She changed the slide to a list of faces of men and women, with Nine’s face at the bottom. “Put simply, this quirk, codenamed Alpha, stockpiles power and can be passed on, giving future wielders all the quirks of previous wielders.”

Demon whistled. “Jackal, you sly dog. How long have you been keeping this from us?” 

“Long enough to get a good idea of how this quirk works. I’m assuming you’re interested to learn more.”

“Eh,” Phoenix shrugged. “I don’t see how that kid’s any better than Comet.”

“Yes...I’m sure the people in Nevada enjoy even more craters in their backyard,” Jackal deadpanned, causing a rowdy laughter that reddened the man’s face. “But Alpha has the power rivalling Comet, plus the versatility. We’ve identified about three quirks so far, which is a milestone given how poorly the previous holders performed.” 

She pointed at the people above Nine, to the face at the top. “This is Daijuro Banjo, the person we obtained Alpha from. The subsequent holders were all people whom we ran tests on. He is the fifth user of Alpha, based on the information he provided from our interrogations of him. 

“Six, Seven and Eight. They didn’t accomplish much in terms of awakening Alpha. In fact they all perished early, just in time to transfer it to the next,” Jackal said, her tone neutral.

“But Nine is where it got interesting. So far, he’s managed to unlock the quirks of Five, Seven and one more unidentified user pre-Five. His power output also jumped from a constant 5% to 40% after the training we put him through.” 

She played a video. “This is him at 5%.” 

It showed Nine punching a tree. One hit, and it collapsed at the impact point, like an amateur woodcutter. 

“And this is 40%.” 

A similar punch, from ten feet away, sent a shockwave rippling through the ground like it was soup, sending chunks of rock and soil flying through the air. It was as if Nine had summoned a hurricane with his fist. The tree was nothing more than collateral damage, disappearing in the next few frames as the punch was thrown. 

When the clouds of dust cleared after half a minute, there was a cone of barren ground ending where Nine was standing. 

“So?” Jackal’s voice echoed in a silent, shocked room. 

“That’s nice. So Japan’s got a powerhouse. You want resources, but you still haven’t said what we get out of this.” The deep voice of Leviathan rippled through the room after an age of silence, which sent some unease given Leviathan’s usual taciturn demeanour. If he spoke, it meant he was interested, and Jackal responded coolly. 

“What about an army of soldiers wielding Alpha?” Jackal said. 

Demon leaned forward with renewed interest. “How?” 

“Alpha has a unique quirk factor, in that it’s not tied to a singular location on the body. It is the body. With the help of our surgeon, we’ve managed to transfer one of Nine’s arms onto another subject, tentative code name Ten. But it wasn’t...successful.” 

“What’s the difference between the transference of Eight to Nine and Nine to Ten?”  

“Eight to Nine was done with the genuine belief of being a hero. Both were quirkless, but had the ‘heart of a hero’, as the two liked to say. We’ve postulated that might have had some effect in terms of the power of Alpha. It’s a nebulous, frankly fantastical theory, but a plausible one nonetheless. After all, the transference from Nine to Ten was done...artificially. So it’s likely the tenth user could not handle the power.”

“What happened?” Demon asked.

“It’s on Page 65 if you would like to view the experiment. I’ve decided not to show it because of certain peoples’ weak stomachs.” Jackal’s eyes flickered towards Phoenix for a brief second. 

Turning the page, Demon’s eyes widened for a moment before his face turned pale. “Ah, I see.”

“So…will you be able to replicate this quirk factor duplication successfully? I’m not sending my soldiers to...that.” Blizzard made a face. 

“Well, that’s where I need a certain country’s research on quirk factors to make this successful.”

A new voice groaned at the corner of the room. “I figured it would come to this,” said Ouro. “Fine, you will have it, but I want a treaty that these never be used on German soil.” 

“With your quirk, I don’t think you’ll need to worry.” Phoenix snorted. 

“I’ll make the arrangements,” Jackal assured Ouro, who nodded. 

“Anything else, Jackal?” Leviathan pressed on. 

“If all goes well, no. Maybe some of your training grounds if the research reveals something new to use for Alpha’s improvement. I’ve yet to collate a list, but Siberia seems like a useful location.” Jackal looked to Blizzard, who waved dismissively. 

“Which it never does,” Demon added. The others gave murmurs of assent. 

“Are we done here?” Dragon chirped. 

“I suppose,” Jackal said, and sat down. Despite obtaining everything she needed, there was no hint of satisfaction visible on her face.

––––––

Hi, sorry for the silence. Exams. One last paper tomorrow, and I guess things might resume as per normal, but the pace is picking up so I suppose writings will be, on average, slower. 

Also, I know this isn’t a story a lot of people would be interested in? It’s not a shipping fic, but it’s one I really liked to write, as I thought the premise of “What if the HPSC discovered OFA early?” was too good to not write. So all you HPSC haters get to see Izuku’s hellish life and hate them more, I guess. And yeah the HPSC isn’t going to come off well in this story. Like, at all. Not a fun AU. 

I definitely have more planned, it’s not going to be a super long story like ATDS or TFTA, but I’m thinking 3 chapters or so. 

[nothingofnotereally]

Unpacking Rebirth!Talia’s Upbringing

Okay so…. Can we talk about Rebirth Talia al Ghul? People who aren’t familiar with her history, her almost 50 year history at this point, and more importantly aren’t familiar with it in depth often have no idea why it is that Talia fans think that her treatment post Morrison, but even moreso post-Rebirth, is a radical rebranding of the character they’ve known for so long.   And I could talk about that, and maybe one day I will, but today I’m going to talk about something different, but related.

I’m going to talk about Talia’s background in Rebirth, how it accounts for her being a dramatically different character than she was in her classic form and whether she’s still salvageable as anything other than a mustache-twirler.

I. The Demon’s Daughter

Let’s be clear: the little we know of Talia’s rebirth childhood is absolutely horrific.  Pure nightmare fuel.  While their traditional dynamic was troubling and problematic, it was also loving in its way, and Ra’s was controlling of her, while also protective of her.  Now, instead, we have this:

This issue has been out for a while, but I haven’t seen anyone really unpack what it is Talia is saying here, because we’re all focused on the stupid swordfight with Selina. But look at what it is Talia is saying and what it means about her upbringing.

Talia is saying that, basically since she was a toddler, she has been physically abused, and forced to fight, by her centuries old swordmaster father.  In fact, her very first memory is bleeding from wounds caused by her father.  From then on, her life is a fight to survive against her own father, which I’m guessing was pretty damn difficult especially when she was an actual child.  And often, when she loses?

She dies.  Or rather, she is murdered.  Repeatedly.  By her father.  

And then he resurrects her and starts over.  

And about those resurrections?  It’s not like he just picks her newly killed body and immediately brings her back - check out that first panel on the second row.   Not only is she killed and revived countless times, he lets her corpse at least partially rot before resurrecting her, so that when she returns to life, she is treated to the sight  of her skin regrowing over her rotted flesh.  And as soon as Ra’s notices she’s alive again… they start again.

How long did that go on? Unclear, but she’s still fighting him as a grown woman in the equivalent of this time period in The Gift...

...so I’m guessing the answer is “it didn’t stop until she left him.”

To be honest, I’m not really sure what the Rebirth version of Ra’s and Talia’s dynamic even was.  The classic relationship doesn’t work at all with this backstory, and we’ve never really seen a lot of what the new paradigm might be since they’ve been out of contact since well before Rebirth.  But what we do know is, she was an active assassin from a young age.

Unlike Classic Talia who was actually never an active assassin at all:

We can also glean bits and pieces of information regarding her Rebirth upbringing from other appearances. Over in Silencer, we find out that despite her brilliance, the fact that she was carrying out assassinations for him, and the fact that she could defeat her ancient swordmaster father even as a child, she was never good enough for him: 

He was dissatisfied with her, and so he created metahumans using his genes to replace her.  Ultimately, this drives her to plot against Ra’s because... who wouldn’t?

It’s not entirely clear what her ambitions were, specifically but judging from this bit of Batman and Robin (New52, but seemingly still canon for Damian’s backstory):

It involved winning Batman over to her side and ruling the world through Damian.  This is further confirmed by her comment to Honor in Silencer Annual #1 here:

Where she indicates that Bruce is family to her, and still features in her future plans. What’s strange here is that she also says later that she intends to kill him personally, which is.  Weird and out of nowhere, but what else is new.  As a sidenote, Silencer is just strange because it ignores everything about Talia’s history not just in terms of changing her personality but in terms of ignoring the timeline of events, but... moving along...

Talia intends to form Leviathan to break free of him and pursue her own agenda.  But, while apparently finding her insufficient, Ra’s cannot let her go.  Not only that, he actively works to destroy everything she is trying to accomplish, including trying to kill Batman just because she desires him.  In fact, he also tries to have Talia herself assassinated:

Another thing is, Rebirth Talia is rather older than she looks, as evidenced by her having been an adult when she met Honor. 

Which means, in the end, we have a woman who was abused and repeatedly killed by her father, then thrown in a Lazarus Pit (but only after her body has lain around long enough to partially decompose!) and forced to repeat the cycle for who knows how long, but apparently quite a long time - decades, maybe centuries. Who even knows.  She’s been working as an assassin since her teens.  Despite her excelling and even surpassing him in various ways, he considers her inferior, and begins seeking to replace her with artificially created metahuman heirs.  Eventually, Talia decides she wants to break with him, and he responds by first trying to destroy everything she cares about and then trying to have her killed. 

OKAY, SO.  Nightmare fuel.  I genuinely can’t begin to imagine what it would be like growing up in that environment, and under the circumstances it’s certainly no shock that Rebirth Talia is warped.  

Even so, what stands out to me in the B&R issue is that, initially, even her wildest ambitions required her to exercise power through a man – it’s just her son instead of her father or her potential husband.  This says a good deal about how her upbringing, as well as her father’s fixation on marrying her off, has affected her self-image.  And for those who say Talia evidences arrogance and self-importance… yes she does.  Which is often a symptom of low self-esteem.  In fact even Narcissistic Personality Disorder typically stems from overcompensation for a feeling of worthlessness.

The traditional/original Ra’s/Talia dynamic had some elements of this story, but not all and not nearly to the same extent.  Furthermore, Classic Talia had something else - someone else - to love and look to for hope. Rebirth Talia does not.  Because as far as I can tell, in Rebirth, Talia and Batman’s relationship has very little in common with the conflicted romance they shared in their original stories.  And that’s how we transition to...

II. Beloved of the Bat?

So, Bruce Wayne.  

Again, the extent of their relationship in Rebirth is unclear, but it definitely isn’t what it was pre-Rebirth.  

The original Bruce/Talia story is basically as such:  Talia meets him when she’s kidnapped by Dr. Daark, and falls in love with him.  Bruce is also drawn and attracted to her.  This results in Ra’s deciding to test Bruce for suitability as Talia’s husband and his own heir.  Bruce passes, but unsurprisingly has no interest in running a criminal empire, though he does fall in love with Talia.  This leads to a rather intense on/off romance that ultimately results in Damian Wayne, and continues until Tower of Babylon when Talia finally tires of being stuck between her father and her lover and breaks away from both of them. With Bruce and Talia’s relationship having been called to an end (by her, mind you – one day I may do a writeup on Bruce/Talia and how often what happened between them is misremembered by writers and readers alike), Bruce becomes involved with Catwoman in Hush.  Even so, we see in Death and the Maidens that Bruce does still love Talia.

Meanwhile, Talia’s previously unknown sister Nyssa kidnaps and repeatedly murders and resurrects her (sound familiar?) until she more or less goes mad.  By the end of the ordeal, she can barely speak, and she willing to do anything for Nyssa to avoid being killed again.  This results in Talia disavowing her love for Bruce, which seems to be the catalyst for him to finally move on from her, though not without considerable pain.

Okay this is important to run down, because the Rebirth story has changed everything about their relationship.

Gotta love those evil expressions.  It helps us remember that she’s a heartless monster.

Anyway so, In Silencer Annual #1, Silencer does note that Talia had previously said she was in love with Batman, so we know that she loved him, okay.  But what does love mean to Rebirth Talia?  We can find the answer to that if we go back to Roles of Engagement:

She “loved” him because she considered him a potential equal.  That’s not really a bad basis for loving someone initially – and even Classic Talia’s love for Bruce was initially sparked from a place of admiration.  But while Classic Talia eventually grew into a more complete love for him, it seems like Rebirth Talia is still stuck on objective: seek worthy mate.  In fact, once it’s clear that she and Bruce are not coming back together, she just goes ahead and propositions Slade Wilson because she figures he can give her strong children, too:

Notably, this obsession with strong offspring sort of comes out of nowhere when Morrison takes over, but anyway, from that perspective it’s not hard to understand why Bruce’s feelings for her would also be somewhat muted in Rebirth:

Because while Classic Bruce/Talia was a love story that stretched for over 30 years in our time, and most of their adult lives in canon… Rebirth Bruce/Talia is repeatedly presented as a short infatuation on his end, and a dangerous obsession with genetics on hers. The above panel is from Batman #66, and is part of the Knightmares arc, which is important because while it appears to be Selina saying it… it’s actually Bruce’s thoughts about the women in his life coming out through his imagined version of Selina.  And to him, those women amount to nothing much – none of them even warrant a direct callout.  Everyone besides Selina is a “whoever.”

Interlude and Sum I

So... Classic Ra’s was controlling, possessive and dismissive of her at times, but he was also devoted, protective and genuinely loving.  The relationship was complicated and problematic but affectionate. 

Rebirth Ra’s is an abusive tyrant who repeatedly murders and belittles his daughter and, when she decides to break from him, attempts to systematically destroy everything she cares about and then have her killed.

Classic Bruce/Talia was a complicated romance between two people who genuinely loved each other, but were always separated by circumstances.  He loved her for years, and she loved him unconditionally, and they struggled over that from the day they met until they permanently separated as a result of her being brainwashed.   

Rebirth!Talia went in search of someone she considered worthy of her so they could have a genetically perfect child to conquer the world with.  Bruce briefly had feelings for her in a moment between romantic rounds with Catwoman.

My point is this:  Rebirth Talia has never experienced genuine love or support from anyone in her life, or for anyone in her life. Her relationship with the two men she traditionally loved, and whose love for her has imprisoned, empowered and defined her for much of her existence as a character, was utterly gutted in Rebirth, leaving Rebirth Talia’s life as a prolonged emotional void.  Which makes what comes next remarkable in some ways… and predictable in others.

Because this is where we talk about Damian.

III. Olympias to his Alexander

Now, I’m not going to get into the circumstances behind Damian’s conception because what the whole hell, there is absolutely no consistency there.  Various people are very invested in one or another of the myriad versions of his conception that DC has repeatedly retconned and revised, generally leaning to whichever one fits their preferred personal narrative, and that’s fine but objectively?  Absolutely no consistency, situation unclear.  So let’s just go with “Damian resulted from this mess.”

In Batman and Robin #0 we see that Talia basically raised him the way Ra’s raised her… with some major deviations.  She used his desire to know his heritage and know his father’s name as the carrot to motivate him to succeed, rather than the fear of death and pain as a stick to punish him  for failure. 

Talia does not kill her son, whom she duels with wooden blades rather than steel.  And she is not shown to physically abuse him… aside from the swordfights, which of course is already bad.  

Mind you, I’m not denying that his upbringing is still brutal.  What I’m saying is, placed in the context of her own upbringing we can see that she was trying to raise him with more kindness and greater love than her father had her – an improved parental style, but still reflective of the only style she, herself, has ever known.  

So it’s predictable that he’s essentially mistreated… because she literally has never encountered an emotionally healthy relationship and wouldn’t know how to raise him any differently even if she wanted to.  

But it’s also remarkable because despite that, you can see she is trying to be a better mother than Ra’s was a father, and not let Damian grow up feeling unwanted and unworthy the way she did, herself.

Unlike Ra’s, she never tells Damian he is insufficient – on the contrary, she holds him up as the chosen, a conqueror, and dreams of a future when he will lead with both parents at his back.  Remember, this is a woman who was never seen as worthy of inheriting Ra’s al Ghul’s organization, and she wants to make sure Damian knows the world is his to hold.  The bit about having both parents is important, too, because per Batman Inc, Talia felt deprived of her mother, whom Ra’s had discarded as soon as she was no longer useful to him.

In short, she does for Damian everything she wished Ra’s had done for her.  

But, in so doing, she falls into many of the same traps that Ra’s had fallen into: she doesn’t provide what Damian wants, or even what he actually needs.  Instead, she gives him what he asks for, and what she thinks he needs.  But for someone who grew up without love, trying to understand how to provide it is complicated, and difficult.  

Anyway, when Damian finally defeats her, she fulfills her promise and brings him to meet Bruce.  This involves a last ditch effort to unite their family: she offers to reform.  

But not only does Bruce reject her, ultimately Damian does, as well.   This is, from Damian’s perspective, completely understandable.  Who wants to live that kind of life?  But from Talia’s perspective she has now been rejected by her own child, in addition to her father and the man she hoped to spend her life with.  You can see the raw hurt this causes her clearly, as a woman who had always yearned for family starts having exchanges like this:

And while we’re at it, count Honor as another person who left her.

And to be clear here, I’m not saying they were wrong to leave her.  Rebirth Talia is not a good person, not a kind person, not really anyone I’d want to willingly hang around.  And yes, she’s clearly manipulating Honor with her affectionate words, although I’d argue this is largely because manipulation is all she's ever experienced and all she knows how to do. 

So, what am I saying?

Interlude and Sum II - Why Is She Like That?

Just to catch it all up, we have a woman who was abused by her father, including being repeatedly murdered and resurrected, treated as inferior and insufficient despite being Ra’s’ equal or superior in many ways, who spent her young life performing assassinations and otherwise conforming her behavior to her father’s demands only to discover he was creating alternate heirs because she’s somehow still not enough for him.  She has never experienced love, seemingly has no real understanding of what it is.

When she settles on someone she believes that she loves, she is ultimately nothing to him but a “whoever” - a temporary respite from the yo-yo relationship he has with another woman.  

Then Damian happens and, from her perspective, she raises him with all the love, pride and approval that she herself never had.  In an effort to unite the family, she also attempts to do what would please Ra’s - conform her behavior to Bruce’s preferences - but he still rejects her.  

Meanwhile, she has “adopted” Honor Guest, whom she also shows favor to, but who also wants to leave her, and ultimately does just that, without even saying goodbye.   

And then we have some.  Quirks in her story - some specifics that really bear looking at in greater detail.

Repeated murder and resurrection:  So how bad is that?  It’s bad.  The first time Talia experiences this kind of thing is in Death and the Maidens, which is probably no longer canon.  But okay this was Classic Talia and for comparison, this breaks Talia’s spirit so completely that she essentially becomes Nyssa’s puppet.  

She is literally never the same again, even after Nyssa is killed.  In fact, it’s this that turned her into the monstrous Talia that we meet in Morrison’s run to begin with, so we already know she can be broken by this kind of treatment… but let’s use another example.  

Let’s use… Batman.  

He’s got one of the strongest wills in DC, right?  Well, lets rewind to a story called Emperor Joker, where the Joker attained Mr. Mxyzpltck’s omnipotent powers which he uses to repeatedly torture and murder Batman and resurrect him every day.  

This completely destroys Bruce to the point where the Spectre has to erase his memory of it in order to make Bruce functional as a person again.

So imagine that happening to Talia, as a child, at her own father’s hands.  And not for days, for years. And that’s without even considering the method of resurrection, which brings us to…

Lazarus Madness: Let’s talk about the Lazarus Pit.  It’s a magical mystical ley line-powered bath that resurrects and heals.  We all know that.  But the thing is, that’s not all it does: it also drives the one bathed or healed mad. For a short time, they become superhumanly strong, and also overtaken with violent bloodlust.  The first Lazarus pit was used to resurrect a sultan’s son, who promptly murdered Ra’s al Ghul’s wife Sora.  Since then, Ra’s himself has been the primary beneficiary of its benefits, with interesting results… namely that Ra’s has been slowly going mad for centuries.  

Because even though the intensity of the bloodlust and madness fades, it never completely disappears, and cumulative effect eventually twists a person’s nature beyond recognition.  In his first life, Ra’s was a good-natured doctor, but over the many exposures he has found himself becoming progressively worse. 

A quote from Denny O’Neil, Ra’s’s creator:

“...we gave Ra’s a benevolent motivation.  You can certainly quarrel with his methods ... But Ra's is a loony bird.  He’s been alive for 400 years and he’s become a maniacal sociopath.”

Dick Grayson concurs, and acknowledges its cause:

Even Ra’s himself is aware of it – this is why he didn’t want Jason bathed in the Lazarus Pit, because he is all too aware of the demons it stirs in a person.

So, what is the impact on Talia, who is quickly and repeatedly tortured and killed, and then resurrected using a method that is known to drive people insane?  I’m going with “not the best.”  It’s frankly astounding that she still resembles a human, psychologically.  

Assassin work at a young age: While there has been a long-standing debate about the effects of exposure to violence on all people and children in particular, in general the consensus is, yes, exposure does cause desensitization.  Obviously this doesn’t mean people are going to generally become serial killers because they played a violent video game, but it does have a numbing effect – just think about how people who watch enough horror films are harder to scare with horror films.  

Now imagine that, instead of watching people murder and commit violent acts on television or on film, a child is instead expected to perform said acts themselves.  How desensitizing would that be?  

Frankly, to see all we need to do is look at Damian, who grew up under similar circumstances and, as a result, initially exhibits what I can only call red flag behavior.

The thing is, Damian isn’t so dissimilar from his mother in this regard.  Like Talia, he becomes morally twisted, emotionally empty and ultimately tethered not to his own sense of morality or self but to other people’s perceptions and demands of him and who he should be.  Before he meets Bruce, he adheres to the League’s expectations, and when he meets Bruce, he instead aligns himself with Bruce’s code of behavior, even though he does not actually believe in it.  It takes a good deal of time and work for him to begin developing his own beliefs and boundaries.  The difference between Damian and Talia is that he had Bruce and Bruce, despite his flaws, loved Damian enough to try for his sake.

Arguably, this is a defining difference between Classic and Rebirth Talia, as well.  Classic Talia also viewed Bruce as her beacon and her path to salvation and hope.

But if, in Rebirth, Bruce never really loved her, and in fact she barely loved him, then there is no catalyst for her to begin seeking another path.  Rebirth Talia didn’t have anything but the League, and even Ra’s barely cared for her.  As a result, she was boxed into her role by fate, which she acknowledges in Teen Titans, as she wishes better for her son than she had herself.

Anyway, obviously, there are no studies on the effect of taking assassin work as a child, but my general guess here is that she has a twisted understanding of the value of life and the significance of death.  Which brings me to another massive issue that permeates the character and may even help explain her choice to put a hit on Damian at one point.

Death as Optional: Death is an inevitability, right? Like taxes. Nothing you do can prevent it, or reverse it, so all you can do is live with it, and make the most of what you have. It’s said that the existence of death is what lends meaning to life, and while I’m not sure I’m quite on board with that, the fact that death is permanent certainly does lend a certain gravitas to it.  It’s also the reason we fear death and what lies beyond it.

Unless you’re an al Ghul.

For an al Ghul, death is opt in.  Because Ra’s is essentially immortal (which is also a new thing, by the way) and because Talia herself has been repeatedly resurrected, as has her brother Dusan (assuming he’s still in continuity post-Rebirth), to Talia death has no weight to it.  No gravitas.  It is easily doled out, and just as easily forced into retreat.  

Given that, it becomes exceptionally easy to threaten death, even to those she loves, because there’s nothing to say she can’t change her mind and take it back.  

Now to be clear, my argument is not that she had the intention of taking it back – she didn’t really intend for Damian to die to begin with for one thing.  It’s just that, because of who she is and what she has experienced, Talia would always act with the knowledge that she can choose to endanger someone’s life and think about whether she’s comfortable with the result (their being dead) later.

This is evident in both Ra’s and Talia, each of whom are willing to use death and resurrection as a tool to restructure people they don’t even want dead, as Ra’s attempts to do with Damian and Talia, and as Talia does with Honor Guest.

…as a sidenote can I just say that the Lazarus Pit’s effects are so weird.  In some stories it can’t resurrect at all, and in others it can resurrect after decades without a problem.  In some it just reduces age, and in some it also heals memories.  Here it’s being used to erase memories, which makes no sense since a Pit his how Jason Todd got his memories back. Also, this is the first I’ve ever heard of al Ghuls having especially strong resistance to the Pit’s corrosive effects on personality.  Considering it’s just a bunch of chemicals on a ley line, I’m not sure how that would work, but now I’m just imagining Ra’s with a book of Lazarus recipes like, Well, I’m needing one that restores memories today so Ima add an extra pinch of ginko.

ANYWAY.

V. “R” Stands for Redemption

There was a time, a few years back, when Damian had his own series, Robin: Son of Batman.  And therein, you see one of the few efforts to explain and redeem Talia’s character.  There, while she was still presented as colder and more aggressive than her Classic counterpart, she was still capable of compassion, protectiveness and love.

It was essentially explained as a result of her being cleansed of the toxin that was Ra’s al Ghul’s influence, via having darkness physically removed from her body.

Now, to be honest, I’m not sure how I feel about that particular route – I feel like it would have been more honest to have her resurrection heal the Lazarus damage, for example, but it’s a start.  And, in the end, Damian left her with the chance to redeem herself and earn back his and Bruce’s trust.

Aaaand she has failed. Or more precisely, writers have failed to follow up on this thread, and have instead doubled down on her as the evil Dragon Mother.  I’ll be honest, I’m not really sure what’s going on with DC’s fixation on evil Asian ninja moms but I’m just going to… pretend that isn’t a thing in order to suggest some paths that could salvage her character.

I’ve seen it said that she’s been too evil for too long to be redeemed, but honestly that’s pretty silly. First of all these are comic books, anyone can be redeemed.  The same writer who wreaked havoc on Talia also had Magneto, a Holocaust survivor, going full Nazi on humans, which was incredibly out of character, and Marvel basically fixed it by saying “guess who that wasn’t? Magneto.  It wasn’t Magneto.”  Technically DC could just Hal Jordan her, or let the rumored upcoming continuity shuffle bring her previous history back.  As for the “been this way too long” argument, I mean she was Original Flavor Talia for more than twice as long and that wasn’t too long for DC to flip her entire motivation and personality.  Catwoman was a villain for decades, and yet here she is, protecting people, making out with Batman on rooftops and leaving him at the alter for altruistic reasons. Same with Ivy, except for the parts about Batman, soooo… you know….

Anyway. I’m going to work with the assumption that we have to use what we have, and that we’re trying to get her to something like her pre-Morrison personality.

The first thing she would need is the experience of love. Someone to anchor her, who won’t judge her or abandon her even when she’s in a dark mood. Even when she’s showing her pain and her anger.  Someone who recognizes how broken she is, but decides to try to help her rather than rejecting her.  Someone who, in essence, will do for her what Bruce did for Classic Talia, and what he does for Damian in his flawed way.

Now, I’m a massive Bruce/Talia shipper, no lie.  However, I do not think Rebirth Bruce and Talia have the kind of connection that could provide her this essential first need. Someone like Superman or Wonder Woman would probably be a better choice, simply because they have greater warmth of character and a drive toward helping lost souls.  

After that, she would need some good old fashioned redemption time.  Maybe a miniseries where she goes Xena on the world: a redemption quest.  Maybe joining a team like the Outsiders or the Suicide Squad where she can earn her way back from the brink.  The Outsiders would be cool, especially, because it would allow Bruce and Damian to monitor her and judge her as she progresses.  

…and I mean, from a character perspective that’s all she really needs.  From a writing perspective, she needs a writer who will nail down things like where Damian came from without going back to the drug-and-rape well, which was a retcon to begin with and has been retconned out and then back in over and over again.   And most importantly, she needs a writer who has the interest in exploring her internal world to the point where they can actually draw these things out of her instead of just ignoring the fridge-horror implications of things like… the way she was raised.

If we could get these things to coincide, then Talia, too, can be saved!

Or we could just reboot the timeline again, whatever.

Anyway, that’s all folks, thanks for reading this far, I have no idea how you did.  If you’re interested in this kind of thing, feel free to drop me a line and ask me… whatever, because God knows I have plenty to say about Talia and about comics in general.  

In closing, something to remind us of the character we’ve lost.

Until next time!