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bythehook · 3 years

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Part One: The Witch

There were plenty of birds on Neverland, but only four native breeds. There was the Talvey bird, named by a narcissist from Liverpool that had come and died on the island long ago; the Dung bird who gladly cleaned up foul droppings; the Duster birds found in the cacti in the scorching Neverland desert lands; and finally the rare Neverbird, whose bright plumage was as unmistakable as it was uncommon. Easy to spot, but devilishly hard to find these days.

As James ran the dull side of his hook along the ornate, gold cage, the Neverbird trembled. It was, in fact, a very young Neverbird. The fully grown fowl were a massive and mightier prey, building nests as wide as a room. Aside from the sorely needed bath in Tulip’s Bathhouse, this was what Hook had come to pick up from the port. Jukes had always been a collector of rare objects, and his plunder had grown tenfold with his brood of adopted brats. They found all sorts, and while most of their findings weren’t worth spit, they sometimes pulled treasures from the island.

Hook had heard tell that the children had discovered an abandoned Neverbird nest and had brought the baby bird home with them. Neverbirds only laid one egg every five years, and so it was a rare occurrence indeed. It was the type of find, Hook hoped, would buy him a cure, or at least an answer to the gory visions he’d been suffering.

His cabin had been scrubbed clean since his last visit to the shore, and incense had been buillowing fragrant smoke about the room all afternoon. James had taken supper in his room, appetite back with a vengeance. Cookson had prepared him a whole roasted hen, cooked apples, seeded bread and butter, rosemary carrots, and a hot johnny cake.

After consuming nearly half of everything, Hook washed his face and abled, comfortably full, to his bedchamber. He lit a lamp and moved forward into the dark, before a voice called out.

“That was quite an exuberant show,” a sickly-sweet voice crooned from his bed. Before Hook could take a defensive stance, a cool snap of the fingers caused all of the candles in the chamber to light.

Helena lay on Hook’s red duvet.

She wore a tattered black lace dress, long necklaces cascading down her breast, and her dozen bangles clacked as she raised her arm in greeting. Her blackened fingers seemed to extend into points, but this was only her black painted nails, and they wriggled like beetles when she waved.

“Hello, Hooky,” she murmured, a wicked smile playing about her lips. “Heard you were looking for me,” she told him, and spread her arms out. “Well, here I am.”

“Yes, I have been.”

“Tsk, liar. You’ve been nowhere near my woods. Afraid of the big, bad wolf, are we? Sending your men out for you?” Shame,” she sighed, leaning back into the down pillows. “I once thought you brave.”

James clenched his jaw together painfully, not wanting to say anything to anger this unpredictable force of a woman.

“Oh dear, I seem to have a struck a tender chord. Well, time is money, as they say. What do you want from me?” There was a look in her eye that hinted that she already knew.

“I believe you might be able to help me. I have been having visions.” James figured to get right to the point.

“What sort of visions?” Helena feigned interest, a cruel lilt in her voice.

It was in this moment that he realized that she, like Queenie appeared spotless. After a moment, a sharp laugh broke through her lips.

“Are they happy visions? Glimpses into the future perhaps?” She asked, a trickle of dark red blood dripping down her nose. “Or tales of the past?” A spider web crack of blue veins spread up her neck, and black liquid pooled around her lips. “Come on Jamie, spit it out!” She cried, almost gleefully. James looked away, repulsed.

“I don’t understand.”

“Don’t you though?”

Hook chanced a look to her, and started slightly as she was right in front of him now.

“Do you have these visions of everyone?” She asked, although like all of her questions, she seemed to know the answer.

Helena lifted his hook up, fondling it with care, and brought it to her cheek. Her other hand reached up his chest, running her fingers along the patterned vest.

James swallowed, looking away again.

“You do know. And you know how to get rid of them. Say it. Say the question you’ve been dying to ask.” She grinned, fingers tracing down the buttons of his vest to the top of his trousers. Here he grabbed her wrist to stop her from going any further.

“How many? How many do I have to kill to make them go away?” He asked through gritted teeth.

“Oooh!” Helena wrenched her arm away and clapped wildly. “So, you are clever! I had hoped you would work that out.” She grinned again; her face spotless once more.

The wild-haired witch stepped away, running her hands along the bureau, fingers dipping in and out of the lamps dancing flames.

“Only one,” she told him, face flickering with shadows in the candlelight.

James frowned; hadn’t he killed already. Noting the confusion on his face, Helena smirked.

“Oh, not just any one. Someone dear-to-you,” she singsonged the last three words.

Hook’s heart sank.

Queenie.

“Who?” he feigned ignorance, which drew another cold, sharp laugh from the woman.

“Oh, you sly man. You want to play games with Helena. That’s alright.” She hummed, watching him like a cat stalking a mouse. “Tresses of gold and eyes of blue before unseen; face so noble and regal she could be a... Queen?”

“No.” James said sharply, and shook himself. “She is not dear to me.”

“You can lie to all but me, for I know who lies in your heart and her name is Queenie.” Helena cackled her cruel poems, flopping back onto the bed. “I see all. All that was. All to come. I know what you will do.”

“I will not kill an innocent.”

“When has that ever stopped you from getting what you want, James Hook?” Helena snapped coldly. “Shall I list them for you? Odette Phillips, skipping down bonny old London Town; Adriana Stone, the bird you sent to heaven; Rufio the--”

“Stop. I know.”

“William Potter, Callum O’Brady, Therese Clare, Puddles and Mudsy, Skylights--”

“Please, stop.” His voice cracked at the names of the long dead and desperately forgotten.

“All innocent. All dead after meeting you. Oh, admit it. Admit what you are. Only a creature like you could kill as you have. What are you, Hook? What are you?”

“I’m a monster, okay? I know that! I know I’ll be damned to the deepest circle of hell when I take my last breath. I know that no savior would atone for my sins.” James was shaking now, unable to meet her golden eyes.

“So why not take one more life? To save your mind for however long you have left on this earth?”

“I won’t.”

“Perhaps you know what I already know,” she beamed, kicking her feet up. “That there is a hope starting in that shriveled, black, little heart of yours.”

“What else can stop them?” He spoke as one condemned, voice hoarse. If that was the only way out of these hellish visions, he’d just as soon take a pistol to his own head. If that was the only way, this whole meeting was pointless.

“Well, I could lift them, of course.” Helena stated casually, sitting at the end of the bed now.

James turned slowly to look at her, an anger bubbling up inside of him that he had not felt in some time. Here she was tearing him down, kicking any hopes at sanity away, only to say she’d been able to fix it all this time. He swallowed the rage and walked to her, bending down on one knee, humbling himself before her.

“What’s your price?” There’s always a price.

The witch grinned.

“What do you have for me?”

James sighed out in relief and stood, stepping into his study to retrieve the Neverbird. He took the cage off of its stand and turned, only to have Helena standing before him again. The start she caused him made the cage shake slightly, and the somber bird cooed in fright.

“The rare Neverbird. I can offer you this.”

Helena reached up and touched the soft feathers through the bars. Her approving smile gave James hope, but then she looked at him in amusement.

“This will pay for my visit,” she told him, reaching up to take the cage from his hook. “And if this is all you have to offer--”

“Anything. I’ll give you anything.”

Helena jumped up and down on the balls of her bare feet.

“Oh, I do love it when they say that,” she said in a giddy voice. “Okay, let’s see,” Helena mused, setting the bird down and began looking around the room. She was toying with him now, deliberating on different items, holding up books to smell, running her fingers across his desk chair. “Oh, I know,” she said suddenly, a glint in her eye.

“Name it.”

Helena’s eyes dragged down Hook’s cadaverous figure slowly, tongue pressed against her teeth.

“I want your baby.”

To be continued...

#okay hi #y'all ready?#closed #part one: the witch

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anti-tony-god · 5 years

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First part is just a couple of dos and don’ts that you can get into anytime since you’re probably all tuckered out from my long ass post before this. Bottom has the list of Asian characters.

First order of business: https://acapelladitty.tumblr.com/post/186500766628 be prepared to do some extreme blocking if you go into the batfam tag or follow their blogs. DC is retconned a lot, it’s almost not worth it to find out what the heck is going on. No matter what people say, don’t read RHATO (Jason has the *goes to mystical Asian place and is the chosen one* trope in *both* versions). Superman is boring (and loves the military) and so is Batman except Batman sucks too and is a bitch and an asshole and a creep and a bitch, Justice league is only not boring when Dr. Light and Vixen are there, at least to me. Dc Bombshells is legit how I found out I was bisexual, if you do it skip annual (bombshells is my favorite comic out of all of dc)

No one buys diversity, so diversity is not made. You’ll have to go to the 90s for that most of the time, at least if you want a main PoC character. Avoid new 52 (“is it that bad?” Go into the anti new 52 tag. Hard mode: find a character that isn’t being complained about.) Avoid Heroes in Crisis, even if your new fave is in it. I also think rebirth (current reboot) is bad but that’s up for debate I only read old shit and the rare good modern ones

YJ is cute! So is Teen Titans (older). I love Renee Montoya as The Question, you should check her out. There’s a Shazam comic, since you liked the movie. theres also Legion of Super-Heroes, wonder twins, and Batman beyond. I’m just listing them for options, if there’s any I say “go for first” it’s Blue Beetle 2011(Jaime is baby), or Birds of Prey 1999 (Oracle, Black Canary, and more)

Robin: Son of Batman is great, and so is Agent 37. A lot of people love Dick Grayson! He’s fun but remember: he’s Romani just white passing like Wanda & Pietro don’t let anyone tell you different. Vixen (sexi animal wife), black lightning, hellblazer (magic man), midnighter (gay Batman), poison ivy (plant babe), firestorm (jock & nerd), supergirl, green lanterns (Jessica & Simon are the dream team), and nightwing are great. If any of these pique your interest just ask about them and I’ll give you info n send a rec list.

I started out making a list of just Asians since there were no ethnicities listed in the thing I found, then I found a list of Asian superheroes by ethnicity on wiki & decided I’m not going to erase Grace Choi, Sin Lance, or Kimiyo Hoshi because that would be a sin, so I hope you don’t mind ://

Chinese: Batman, Superman, Flash, and wonderwoman (etc) of China, (I love Flash! Her name is Avery Ho), Grace Choi (asian amazon, big bicep bisexual, cute character), Dragonmage, Claw, Gloss, Great Ten (group), Jade Yifei, Jong Li, Kai-Ro, Cass Cain (my precious child Ms. Asskicker), Lady Shiva (LADY Asskicker literally all she wants to do is kick ass), Thunderlord, Wing, Sin Lance (MY BABY!!!!!)

Hong Kong: Ryan Choi (genius baby boi), Grunge, Striker Z,

Japanese: Blitzen, Bushido, Eiko Hasigawa (catwoman!!!!), Fuji, Kimiyo Hoshi (my wife Dr. Sassmaster), Katanna (sword lady!), Kayo, Kunoichi, Naiad (water lady), Ram, Rising Sun, Sunburst, Tsunami (and therefore her daughter, deep blue), Shado (woman Connor kissed), Emiko (Shado’s daughter & Connor’s AUNT), Sonia Sato (might check her out), Jiro Osamu (Japanese Batman)

Indian: Aruna, Jinx, Maya (!!!), Rama, Solstice (also baby!!)

Cambodian: Kevin Kho, Lilian Worth (and therefore her daughter, Rose Wilson)

Vietnamese. Artemis Crock, Cheshire (and therefore her daughter, Lian Harper who is A BABY!!!!!!)

Middle East: Nightrunner (French batman), Simon Baz (baby!!), Damian Wayne (bratty baby), Talia al-Ghul (did nothing wrong), Ra’s al-Ghul (did everything wrong), Taleb Beni Khalid, Super-Shayk, Seraph, Sandstorm, Osiris, III and I, Naïf al-Sheikh, Isis, Mohammed Ibn Bornu, Iron Butterfly, Ibis the invincible, archer of Arabia (Arab green arrow), Gim Alloy, Black Adam, Khalid Ben-Hassin and Khalid Nassour, and… Nightwing? Says he’s Iranian but he’s Romani???????? Idk they switch things around sometimes.

And last but not least Korean: :)

Connor Hawke (aaa!!! Babe!!!) Ahn Kwang-Jo Linda Park (and therefore her children, Jai and Irey West, I love them!!) Mystek Element Woman/Emily Sung Lucien Gates Xombi Ballistic

Some of these are super old or are only in like 1 thing I tried to avoid the racist ones but I don’t know all of them :/

Not sure: Eugene Choi, I looked it up and Choi is a Korean surname. I don’t read Shazam so I don’t know but the older actor is Chinese-Malaysian and the younger one is Taiwanese Gehenna Traci 13, never stated (she looks cool I’m gonna check her out too)

Anyway read DC Bombshells except skip annual (the only complaint I found was someone going “uhhhh lesbians didn’t exist then uhhhh not enough straighties” so I’m gong to hate-reread ITS SO GREAT)

–

Thank you sm!!! I’ll save this for later!

#dc #save #submission #long post

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asukaskerian · 6 years

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girl genius daemon AU - Agatha, Beetleburg

who’s a one trick pony, it meeeeee.

There MAY be more. idk yet but probably. i haven’t reread it yet, i just typed up all 6k of it right now and now i’m about to crash into bed. love me plz.

"We're late--"

"I know!"

"--What was that thing--"

"I don't know!"

"A clank? A clank with a -- ow!"

"Ow."

"... We're late!"

"You fly ahead then!" Agatha whimper-snapped, holding her head. Ricimer's talons tightened onto her shoulder; after a second he started preening at her hair, crooning his little rusty, broken song.

They were both so distracted they didn't see the man in the alley until Agatha collided with him straight on.

"--Oh, sorry!" she apologized, cringing with embarrassment. "Sorry, I didn't see--"

The man grabbed her elbow, smiled through his beard. He had on some military uniform and a massive brown rat on his shoulder, only a few inches from Ricimer. "Whoa, whoa there."

Agatha leaned back, blinking. He didn't let go.

"Why, I think my arm's right clean broken! Now who's going to pay for the doctor, huh, little Miss?"

... What -- oh.

There was another man behind him in the alley, flailing himself up with a bottle in hand, a terrier dog watching with her ears and tail up in hunting alertness.

Two soldiers. Predatory daemons.

Agatha and Ricimer knew what they saw, those men. They saw some kind of sad pheasant, some shaking game bird, without even the prettiness and elegance of any respectable cock's bright feathers. A prey animal to be hunted down and devoured.

"I don't have any money," she tried, eyes flitting around desperately.

The man with the rat only smiled wider.

"Aww, not even a bit of change?" the man with the dog wheedled.

She committed the mistake of turning to look at him -- and the other one slipped around her.

Then he tore her locket from her throat, crowing... something.

Something.

Ricimer screeched, taking flight; Agatha whirled, snatched the bottle from the other one's hand, swung --

Something flashed in the corner of her vision, a bright spark of light in the dim alley, and her first thought was the actinic blue of the odd apparition in the street a bare moment ago.

Then an impact to her face sent her whirling to the floor, stunned.

"Hey!" the other man shouted. "Hey, no, she's a civilian and she missed, drop it!"

"Oh, I'm going to drop something--"

"Do you remember what they do to criminals in this town? No. Let's just go already--"

No. Her locket. Her locket.

"Don't you dare," she said, rising to her knees, "take a single step from--"

The man with the rat was sneering at her, but the man with the dog was staring at Ricimer.

Good. Distracted, he would -- the bottle weighed different now -- oh, broken, well, that was alright, she could work with that.

"... Is your daemon smoking?"

"What's going to be smoking is your bones after you cook to death in Doctor Beetle's jars!" she snarled, jumping up to her feet, and swung. The men flinched away from the sharp edges aiming for their eyes. Good. They should fear her, they should--

And then Ricimer dove on the rat with claws and beak -- trailing little, unmistakeable, flames.

Agatha panicked.

Charging the man bodily, she shoved and scratched at his face, forgetting the bottle. Her daemon was on fire -- her daemon was on fire! She needed -- enemy, trapped -- needed to escape and save him and --

"Locket!" Ricimer screeched.

The locket glimmered brass and sunlight against the flames. Ricimer dove; snatched it off the ground -- and she snatched him with both hands and took off at a gallop right back up the alley. Cloth tore noisily but she yanked free -- fire -- people, safety -- fire!

"Fire!" she screamed as she burst at a gallop into the street; her sudden headache blinded her more than the sunlight. The morning crowd dodged away from her, daemons cowering; she tripped onto a street storyteller's tips jar, landed flat on her chest and stomach with her daemon still held up between her hands, and her elbows smarted.

"--Trough!" the panhandler yelped, pointing, and, nauseous, half-blind, Agatha heaved herself up on her knees and dunked her daemon in the horse through nearby.

Phew. She sobbed once, relieved, then she pulled him out. He blinked back at her in total confusion, drenched and ridiculous.

"Um. Agatha?"

"You were on fire. Ow. How did you not notice you were on fire? What -- what even caught you on fire?" Ooh. Ooh, wait. "Did they do something, did they have a lighter -- they dared, they caught you on fire -- I'm going to hunt them down and cook them in a giant pan!"

Held between her hands as she knelt by the trough, still dripping, Ricimer puffed his feathers up in echoing anger.

A cloud of smoke poofed free, and then the feathers of his crest sparked alight.

Agatha dunked him again.

"... Um."

"... Right."

That... wasn't possible. There was nothing on him that should ignite after being so wet. She carded her fingers through his crest, but there was no residue, and.

The feathers were whole. Their usual grey-brown, dull bristles, the paler shaft...

The lighter shaft. Dull but brightening as she stared, like a translucent syringe slowly filling with lava.

It seemed to pulse in rhythm with her headache.

"Miss? You okay?"

Right. The storyteller. "We can't stay here," Ricimer said, throwing glances at the crowd slowing down to watch them as it passed. "The men could--"

"Ricimer," she retorted, impatient and dizzy, "you caught on fire. You're still catching on fire."

He clacked his beak impatiently, shook her hands off his side and flapped his wings to get the water out. "Well then, better catch on fire in the forge, wouldn't you -- they're in the alley. We need to go."

He hopped out of the trough, one foot still clenched around the locket. Agatha didn't have time to fiddle with the links, so she shoved it in her pocket.

God. He was right. They were still watching. Were they going to follow? Oh no. Oh no, what to do.

"We could... Get to the university. Doctor Beetle would sort this out."

"Too far. They'd get us first."

There was one thing Agatha and Ricimer agreed on -- they didn't think Adam lost to Mister Tok in his ability to keep them safe from riffraff. "Alright. Home, then -- they we can get Adam to escort us to Doctor Beetle?"

"Sounds good," Ricimer said hesitantly, and perched on her shoulder.

Her sleeve on that side was half torn out. She fingered the gap dully, bleak with sudden exhaustion and helplessness.

"Right. Back home. Oh, Doctor Merlot will be so angry," she moaned, turning to retrace her path home. "I didn't even warn them. I'm going to be so, so late."

Ricimer huddled against the side of her head, neck craned to keep watch behind her, and tried to coo a soothing song.

It didn't really work. He'd always had the voice of a rusted-through weathercock.

Adam and Polly found her at the kitchen table, maybe a half-hour later, walking in from the forge to... Maybe get a drink, or a snack, or something. She was sitting with a salad bowl full of water in front of her, Ricimer sitting in it, surrounded by smoking, ember-holed newspaper. A trail of darkened holes lined the way from the front door.

Watching Adam wordlessly, she lifted her hand from the table. Under her palm was the locket. She didn't break eye contact as Ricimer started smoking again; after a few seconds the edge of his feathers lined with little yellow flames.

"Oh, Ricimer, chickling," Polly lowed mournfully, and pushed her way past Adam through the door. She lowered her head to nudge at him; flinched when a flame jumped from his crest to her nose.

"It doesn't burn Agatha, so it shouldn't burn you either," Ricimer informed her absently. "If it catches onto something else, though, that can burn her. I wonder if I can control that."

Adam and Polly traded a speaking look; then Polly nodded her huge, horned head and turned back to Agatha, looking as worried as a cow-bison could.

"Give Adam your locket, he'll fix it," she said urgently. "It'll be okay. Who saw? What happened? Tell us everything, please, we can fix this but it's of the utmost importance that we fix it fast -- oh, Lilith, Hector!" she called out suddenly over her shoulder. "Kitchen!"

"Polly," Agatha ground out, and massaged her temples with both hands. Her head still rang and pulsed with every flash of light, every louder sound.

It was duller now though, no longer the bright slice of being stabbed. Instead she just felt like she was getting kicked in the head. A clear improvement.

"Oh. Sorry, sweetheart."

Adam rested his big hand on her back. Agatha drew in a shuddering breath, rested her forehead in her palms.

She knew what would happen if she touched the locket again. She'd experimented. After the seventh times in a row it started not to feel like a coincidence at all.

It also started to feel worse every time, the see-sawing of bright nausea and dulled sleeplessness.

"Agatha? What are you doing here -- oh, no."

That instant horror in Lilith's voice. That immediate fluff of red and black feathers on Hector's whole body, the way his raptor eyes widened with shock, fixed on the flames dancing on Ricimer's crest.

"So I've learned a couple of things," Agatha started before they could. "The fire is of him, not on him."

"That... Yes."

"He's not a pheasant. He's a phoenix."

"... Yes."

"To be precise," Polly added gently, "he's a Carpathian Inferno Firebird. They escaped from the laboratory of Professor Agenor the Deranged a century ago and established a stable population in the Tepes volcano range, where they--"

Spark-made, construct daemons said a lot of varied things, but there was a single, absolute point of commonality.

"You knew."

Her head lanced with bright pain, a warning; she lifted her head anyway, met her mother's eyes, her father's. Ricimer stepped out of the salad bowl, dripping for all of two seconds before all the water poofed off him in white vapor.

"You knew I was going to be a spark, and you knew what the locket did to him, and it hurts every time I put it on and take it off and what does it do to me?!"

She slammed both hands down on the table, Ricimer hissing at her side with his wings spread low and his long tail pointing up, wafting heat and smoke.

"Agatha, sweetie--"

"Shut up, Polly! You won't--"

Lilith's rough palm tapped her cheek -- not hard enough to hurt, but stark enough to make noise, to shock her out of her building rage.

"Right," Lilith said dryly. "I'm sorry we didn't talk to you sooner, but this is urgent, Agatha. How many people saw you?"

"I--"

"Ricimer?" Hector asked, hopping down onto the table to groom Ricimer's long crest with his hooked kite's beak. He was so small next to Agatha's... Not a pheasant. God.

Ricimer wasn't a pheasant. They weren't a pheasant, a shy game bird who couldn't even fly that well, something that needed to run and hide, that...

They weren't that? But they were such a mousy, snotty mess.

"How many people, Agatha."

"I don't know, I walked back from... The butcher's shop, on Prince Mihail street? I -- I was attacked by soldiers, they tried to take my..."

Her hand lifted to her neck, clenched into a fist before it could touch the bared skin.

"I got it back--"

"I got it back," Ricimer interrupted, "but then she grabbed me and dunked me in a horse trough, so I'm pretty sure people are going to remember us. The street was busy. Why?"

"Right." Lilith worried at her thumbnail with her teeth, scowling at the floor. "So rumors will be spreading. You're staying in for now, we've got to get things ready. I'll go and see Doctor Beetle straight away. If he can't squash it we're going to have to leave town for a little bit."

"But why?!"

Agatha flinched by habit as she raised her voice, but the pain was weak, barely an afterthought. Lilith regarded her sadly, Hector still trying to groom at the coolest of Ricimer's feathers.

"Agatha... Girls with the spark just disappear. Villagers, Fifty Families -- they break through and then they're gone. Nobody knows why. You can't be out as a spark until you can keep yourself safe, and right now, you can't. So nobody can known. Do you understand?"

"... I guess. But how did you know...? I mean. The locket was... I was so young, Ricimer wasn't settled, how...?"

Lilith and Adam exchanged a look. "Well -- both of your parents were sparks, for starters. So was your Uncle Barry, and your mother's father..."

"Well, that's the first time I hear you even knew my mother even had a father," Agatha replied waspishly. "My grandfather was a spark?"

Polly flicked her ears nervously. "Well. Actually both of your grandfathers. Possibly your maternal grandmother as well. And one of your aunts on your mother's side--"

Her grandparents. Her aunts. She had aunts. Agatha had aunts--

"Are they alive," Ricimer hissed like talons on steel, smoking out great billows of black from under his wing feathers.

"... Probably one of your aunts, but not the good one. At least we never heard of her death -- oh, but your aunt Serpentina did die, oh, what was it, about twelve or fifteen years ago, but she and your mother were estranged which is rather too bad because by all accounts she was a good sort, it was barely a few months before your uncle Barry brought you to us--"

Lilith elbowed Polly in her bulging, well-muscled ribs. Agatha pretended she hadn't seen that blatant case of daemon-touching. She was well-used to it by now, no matter how discreet they thought they were being...

So ridiculously, so adorably in love, her parents still were. So touching, so safe.

They'd lied to her all her life.

She sank back into her chair, closed her eyes. "I've got family and I'm going to be a spark," she mumbled. Ricimer inserted himself between her arm and her face, nudged his head under her chin. She hugged him to her chest, pressed her face against his feathers. He ran hot now, smelled like smoke and sulphur.

Not like burned feathers, at least.

Agatha smothered a sob. "My head is ringing."

"It'll be better once you have the locket back on," Polly said gently, and gave Ricimer's crest a lick.

Agatha was out of her chair all at once, with her daemon (phoenix) flapping free. "Are you joking," she asked, eyes bugging out. "I just told you it hurts, and it makes me all, all slow and stupid -- I'm not putting it back on!"

"Agatha, I just told you girls with the spark disappear!" Lilith shouted back. "Do you really think we can hide a breakthrough in the middle of town?! No we can't!" She sighed out forcefully. "You should take a moment to calm down while Adam fixes it, and then the two of you can pack in case we need to leave tomorrow. I'm going to see Doctor Beetle. I love you, Agatha," she added quietly, and hugged her roughly. "I'm sorry it has to come out this way, but let's talk about it later, alright?"

Agatha made a sound that might have been taken as assent and watched her mother dodge around Polly's bulk and sweep out of the room, Hector taking flight to plunge through the window.

He was probably going to fly overheard, far past the limits of a normal daemon's range, and it was only now that Agatha figured out it was because that way he could act as a lookout.

Polly and Adam never were farther than a dozen meters from each other, but she knew they were constructs, patchworks, and that meant they must have the same unnatural range as well.

If Ricimer could fly off without her, she thought, shuddering. If he could -- then he probably wouldn't. What if could never find her again? Without that tether between them...

The tether around her neck was a different matter entirely. She didn't want to lose the pictures, and she liked the design of the locket, its comforting weight. But whatever it was doing to her head could burn.

"They'll have to solder it back on," she muttered to Ricimer as they went up the stairs. Ricimer snorted, throwing flecks of quickly dying fire onto the wooden steps.

"I'll just melt it back off. I can do that now."

She was about to mention the burns to her neck when she thought of the obvious, sheet of leather protection idea. Oh, or maybe she could coat her skin in a fire retardant solution! There were a lot of chemicals in Adam's forge -- lots of acids for etching and the like. Surely she could... why, it seemed so elegant...

She sat for five seconds in between piled-up clothes.

It seemed barely five minutes before Hector landed at her windowsill, rattling the glass from the last of the impact, and screeched her awake.

Five minutes to stuff a single backpack with clothes, money, a sewing set -- a hand-sized ray gun. To shove her feet into good solid boots and switch her thick greatcoat with the torn sleeve for three wooly pullovers and a granny's shawl.

Not a single book, not a memento. Not one of her little clank attempts, left spilled out on her working bench.

The old tunnels weren't dark, at least, not with Ricimer burning at the edge of every top feather. Adam hadn't had time to repair the locket's chain and now it sat in her skirt pocket, beating irregularly against her thigh as she jogged after Lilith.

"So you didn't even get to see doctor Beetle at all?" Ricimer asked from his perch on Polly's broad back.

"No," Lilith replied tersely. "He sent a runner."

"Because Baron Wulfenbach is in town?" Agatha asked slowly, to make sure she understood. "Why--"

"Because Baron Wulfenbach is not our friend, Agatha." She paused, tapped at the stones, nodded. "Here. Adam, your turn."

Agatha and her mother stepped away, pressing against the wall to let Adam and Polly through, and Ricimer flapped back to Agatha's shoulder.

A few testing taps of Adam's hand, and then he set his shoulder to the wall; Polly pressed her head against his flank, his waist between her horns, and together they shoved.

The wall crumbled in a shower of bricks, bouncing off Adam and his daemon. They waited a few seconds to see if the wall would hold, then Hector arrowed out. A few seconds later he whistled the all-clear and Lilith and Agatha followed.

They were out of the walls by at least a hundred meters -- nature still tame and feral experiments keeping well away, but Agatha couldn't help but shiver. The town defenses wouldn't cover them now if anything happened...

"Curse this whole day," Lilith muttered. "We didn't even have time to take blankets or food."

"We've got money, though?"

"And who are we going to buy things off out here," Lilith replied with a sigh. "At least we can hunt, but we're going to be cold."

"... Right," Agatha said, a little embarrassed. Her stomach had woken up in the tunnels; it was barely ten in the morning and already she felt ravenous.

"We've got a cart... Or we had one last year, but someone might have found -- ah, there, under the brambles."

Putting on his work gloves, Adam started tearing out the tangles of thorns, but it didn't go fast. Agatha frowned, opening her little pocket knife and eyeing the roots doubtfully. Then shrugging she tried anyway, and promptly got pricked bloody for her trouble. "--Ow!"

Glaring balefully at the wall of thorns, Ricimer and Agatha were suddenly very done.

"Right! We're burning it down. Move back, Adam!" Ricimer ordered, and flew up toward the higher point, dropping a shower of sparks onto the brambles.

... Which... didn't catch... because they were pretty damp... "More fire!" Agatha ordered.

"No!" three of her parents and assorted daemons yelled back, as Adam flailed his hands vigorously.

"... Agatha, the cart is also flammable."

"--Oh. Right. Yes. But it's -- what wood is it, it should be denser than brambles--"

"But it's damp, it won't catch and anyway how do I make myself hotter? I don't understand the mechanism yet--"

"Practice, you must practice, I'm sure you can, your temperature has been varying a lot, there must be a way to compensate for emotional instability--"

"Willpower? Will willpower alone be enough?"

"Let's find out," they echoed as one, and turned to face the brambles bush, which... Had already been yanked halfway out and now formed a tunnel into the decrepit hut that hid the cart.

Um.

"If you want to be boring," Agatha huffed as she climbed into the back, and pretended with haughty disdain not to see Lilith and Adam exchange fond smiles.

Polly slipped into the harness Adam had brought and started hauling them across the grass. Agatha found herself a seat that didn't shake too much and started daydreaming about shock absorbers for the wheels, and a retractable roof...

She didn't get to nap very long this time either.

"Alright, that's far enough!"

The cart bounced to a stop; Agatha, jarred awake, tumbled forward and against Adam's back. Ricimer flailed in shock.

When she pushed herself up on her knees to look over the side of the cart she saw monsters in a dozen different uniforms ghosting out of the trees; and before them on the wood path they'd been following was a young man, apparently alone but for his massive griffin daemon. A long leonine back and tail ending in a fan of feathers and a green and golden eagle's head, and wings, half-spread, that Agatha could tell would span the length of the cart, Polly included.

He smiled the polite smile of the man with the superior weapon, perfunctory and not fussed.

"You're surrounded, as you can see, so if you could step off the cart..."

Adam and Lilith exchanged wild looks. Agatha...

"Why in the name of little wingnuts should we?" she snapped, woozy from interrupted sleep and ravenously hungry. "Why are you even -- chasing us with, with, what type of construct even are you, wait, I'm sorry, I don't care!"

The young man blinked, nonplussed. "Ah. Well, you see, I'm Gilgamesh Wulfenbach. Baron Wulfenbach's son. He's really--"

Adam snapped the straps holding Polly harnessed, fished a handful of bolts from his belt pouch. Suddenly there were knives flying from Lilith's hand.

Agatha wasn't done gasping in shock when the griffin daemon flapped her wings and sent them all flying off course with the backdraft.

"Wait, wait," she gasped. "Why--"

"Unit commander!" the younger Wulfenbach was snapping toward one of the, were they jaegermonsters? She'd never seen one in real life, they were, oh god -- "Restrain--"

"Jorgi!" Lilith yelled over him. "Kill him!"

What? Who was Jorgi, who -- what -- he was her age, or barely over it -- her mother wanted him dead? The monsters surrounding them --

There was a jaegermonster perched on the side of the cart. She hadn't seen him until he was there, perched like he'd always been there, a gigantic maw and eyes lit up with feral glee, too-long arms and a back too slouched and --

"Back off!" she snarled, and swung her backpack right at his face.

She did not expect it to hit.

The monster landed on his back on the grass with an oomph. Agatha froze in confusion. "Ricimer...?"

"Oof," the monster muttered from the ground.

When she turned toward the -- the Wulfenbach, she saw...

Stand-off, but why? Everyone had frozen into position, no one moved -- what was bringing them all to a stop, putting that tense look on the young man's face? She couldn't make sense of it. Was this Jorgi a friend, then? Maybe hidden in the woods, still?

"They're not looking at the woods," Ricimer muttered, and landed on her shoulder.

Agatha stood. Looked around.

Not a single jaegermonster daemon looked at anything but her. Not even the sleek black dog holding one of the griffin's wings in his teeth, or the boar trying to climb onto her back to flatten her down on the ground.

Oh. A brown-skinned jaeger in a vibrantly green uniform had a long clawed hand around the Wulfenbach's neck. Well, that explained some things.

And gave her a hundred more questions, but.

"Mine apologies, sir," he was saying. "Just gotta check out sumtin. No harm done iffen ve iz wrong, jah?"

"Oh, do go ahead," the young man said with only a touch of sarcasm under his light tone. "Don't mind me."

"Jorgi," Lilith said urgently. "He can't know--"

The green-wearing jaegermonster waved his hand without looking. "Jah, jah, in a minute. Besnik?"

The jaegermonster she had knocked over waved a hand from the grass, where he still lay sprawled -- then in a single kick, he was back up onto his feet and grinning terrifyingly wide. He produced a pair of thumbs-up, his rangy wolf daemon wagging her tail enthusiastically.

Now everyone was looking at her, daemons and jaegermonsters, both Wulfenbachs, her parents--

"Vot iz it hyu vants done -- mistress?"

Her head pulsed with not-quite-pain, dizzy and hot inside, tingling. Ricimer caught on fire all over with a little whomp of displaced air.

"Don't put it on her," Lilith said with quiet intensity. "We can't afford for the Baron to know--"

"Why not?" the younger Wulfenbach asked, head tilted casually.

"--And he's planning something and the more we dither--"

"Enough!" Agatha shouted -- over her mother, over everyone, the jaegermonsters already eagerly converging on the griffin, over everyone and everything. "Enough, I can't think."

She stared at the young man. He stared back, singularly unafraid. Someone to be wary of, she thought, someone who believed himself dangerous. (Someone -- a spark -- with a flying, lion-sized raptor -- damn straight he was dangerous.)

Lilith thought he would hurt her, or his father.

The jaegers called her mistress.

She... couldn't think about it properly; her mind shied away from chasing the implications, remembering years of pain.

"Right," she said. "We're not talking about it here. Anyone got some good rope?"

"This is a little nostalgic," the Baron's son said when they loaded him and his well-trussed daemon into the cart. He seemed almost affable about the whole thing, his daemon lying quiet with her eyes heavy-lidded and her crest relaxed on her neck. Agatha threw them the side-eye and went to perch on the front bench.

"I'm glad it's not horrifying or anything," she replied, nonplussed. "Um. Herr Wulfenbach."

"So far no one has laid hands on my daemon or tried to marry me off to an underworlder," he replied, smiling genially, "so it's even going pretty well. Miss...?"

"Oh -- Clay. Agatha and Ricimer Clay" She massaged her forehead. "My apologies for... Things."

"Hmm." His griffin flicked her crest, gave a long catlike blink. "Not Heterodyne?"

Agatha gave him a long, unamused stare.

"Do I look like a Heterodyne to you."

"Are you saying you're not? Proof to the contrary--"

"I'm saying two hours ago I was an office clerk because I was too stupid to assist for the normal courses and now my pheasant daemon is a phoenix!"

Panting she glared down -- oh, she was standing. Right. Whatever. The cart swayed under her and she grabbed for the side of it, seething. The whole platoon of jaegermonsters jogged on all sides of the cart, looking alert and bright-eyed and every single mobile ear turned her way.

"That doesn't sound normal," Wulfenbach the Feathered said, blinking placidly. "Are you sure you were settled? Certainly it'd be odd for it to come so late, but there's been precedent..."

"I am sure," Ricimer hissed back, flaming.

"Agatha, please," Hector said in a quiet undertone. "Don't... Don't talk to him so much."

"Why, because we're going to have to execute him like bandits?" Gritting her teeth, she turned back to the young man. "We're not going to execute you like bandits. We're going to find you a nice cave or a roadside shelter and let you figure it out from there, I'm sure between her beak and your fingers you can manage something with the ropes, they're really insultingly basic..."

"Dey iz coated in dot rubber thingamajig dot meks it hard to cut," one of the jaegers informed her casually. "Else dey iz long gone already. Meester Gilgamesh iz a tricky one."

"--Oh. Is -- do you think he won't be able to cut it at all?" she asked, a little worried, as she leaned in to squint at the ropes.

Three different arms shot to pull her back -- Lilith's, Adam's and the green-wearing jaeger's.

"Mistress, he iz dangerous," he told her in a calm but firm undertone. "Und Hy vould not vorry, right now he iz mostly not getting free because he iz schtill in de middle ov de squadron."

"I wish you wouldn't call me mistress," she muttered. It felt odd. Not... Bad odd, but.

She was just a brain-damaged clerk who only got to attend university because Doctor Beetle had taken pity.

... Wasn't she.

... Why had he... Because she was...? But then... And why the locket -- uncle Barry.

Her uncle 'was a spark' indeed. Barry Heterodyne, half of the Heterodyne Boys, the other half being... being. Her grandfathers had been sparks. Hah. Maternal aunts. Mother.

Lilith and Adam were probably her father and uncle's creations. The famous Punch and Judy.

She was a spark.

The locket had been made to keep her doused.

She looked at her daemon. Ricimer met her eyes, wordless, for long seconds -- then he snorted like a sneeze, puffed up his feathers. They were going to have to get used to the smoke that came out whenever he did that.

"... Do you have any metal on you I can have," she asked the jaegers walking nearby. "Any... buckles you don't need, or -- medals, yes, thank you." (Her hands were rapidly filling.) "Any tools? Any pliers, or -- I don't need a screwdriver, a bad knife would do, I can just break the tip."

"What are you making?" Lilith asked her cautiously, eyeing the growing collection spilling into the bottom of the cart. Agatha shrugged.

"I have no idea, but apparently I'm a spark," she said, biting, "so I'm sure it's going to be interesting."

"I've got pliers," Herr Wulfenbach said, eyebrows up. "Also several other tools in my coat. And a couple of weapons, so be careful, but I don't mind if -- hey, whoa!"

One of the jaegers was... holding him upside-down by the feet and shaking. Um.

"Hyu tinks ve iz letting hyu trick de young mistress into putting her hands under hyu clothes," he growled, but almost lightly.

"Vait, idiot, nothing vill fall if hiz coat iz schtill buttoned up. Lemme just... Oh hey, hyu iz right, Mihail! Deeeere ve go, Mistress."

The waistcoat and cotton shirt flapped open in turn.

Another jaegermonster laughed, made a joke about... tools...

Agatha yelped, flushing. That was -- that was a lot of flat stomach. Adam looked over his shoulder, then did a double-take, and flung a huge hand in front of Agatha's face.

"No undressing the captive spark for the Mistress!" Polly bellowed, braking with all four hooves and tossing her horns menacingly. Agatha flushed some more, Ricimer smoldering all over, his head tucked under his wing.

"Andrea, you rebutton this young man right now," Lilith hissed.

"Jah, mebbe she vants to do de undressing herself--"

"No I don't," Agatha squeaked, "I am entirely alright not doing any undressing or having undressing done on my behalf at all. That is a very good waistcoat and I see no reason not.. to... Is that an adjustable three-dimensional Bohemian wrench?"

"Uh huh," Herr Wulfenbach said, still upside down and quite red in the face but slightly more buttoned up.

Her fingers paused just before the tool, still caught in its waistcoat loop. "May I...?"

"Uh huh."

"Great! Thank you." She rummaged through the dismantled knives and epaulettes decorations at her knees. Hadn't she seen...

Ah. A pocket watch.

A perfect, lovely, sublime watch and its perfect, lovely, sublime casing,and all its perfect, lovely, sublime, adorable little gears and springs...

She knocked it with the back of the Bohemian wrench. She didn't have a hammer, after all.

There. It was done.

She was faint with hunger, but it was done.

... Probably done.

"It's... not going to explode like the other ones... right?" Ricimer asked warily.

"I doubt it," Gilgamesh said, leaning in with interest. "It all seems very well-balanced." Agatha blinked up at him. Oh, right. he was still there.

She seemed to remember some pretty sound advice, too.

"Well, um. If... If you're sure."

She stared down at the little pocket-watch clank. It lay on its back, unmoving.

"Hyu won't know vot to fix iffen hyu never start it, Mistress," the green-wearing jaegermonster pointed out. His dobermann daemon nodded, ears pricked forward with hunting interest.

On the other side of it, Ricimer's beaked face and the griffin's massively bigger beak leaned down to peck cautiously at the legs. "Solid!"

"Good resonance. You kind of get a feel for the... The musicality of solid constructions after a while. Tap it again, see? A very clear chime."

"You guys want me to build you a carillon while I'm at it?" Agatha asked dryly, though she couldn't help but tilt her head into the sound, to hum quietly, trying to match the note.

"Oh, maybe afterwards?" the griffin said. Her face was all golden-tan, but the feathers toward her chest and long lynx ears were edged in emerald green. "So far I have to say this is the nicest breakthrough project I've ever seen, though."

Snorting, Agatha tapped the little clank awake.

It sprang up on spider legs, executed a sharp turn to take on the surroundings, and immediately let out a long teakettle whistle that had all the jaegers flinching.

Then it sprayed them in sewing needles. Agatha maybe shouldn't have brought along her sewing kit. Yelping, she reared back -- then realized not a single needle had touched her. The jaeger's arm was in the way; when she pulled it down and turned it to see his sleeve was pinned to his skin.

"Oh good little fishes, I'm sorry, let me -- is that sewed in."

"Vell, dot's not very bad," he said philosophically, even as she cringed.

"No, I'll just, I'll cut the thread and pull -- you roll back that measuring tape before I string you up with it and use you like a piñata."

The clank rolled back its measuring tape with a guilty little noise like schrllllzing.

"Still the nicest breakthrough project we've ever seen," Gilgamesh said, amused. "Does it have bone saws installed in?"

The little clank popped out a Spanish coin on a rod, made it rotate hopefully. Gilgamesh pinched his lips.

"... A good attempt. What, ah... What's the coin for?"

"Well I didn't have any circular saws, did I," Agatha said grumpily. "It can do the job if needed, it’ll just... take a while. And not be very neat. And be... kind of... Ugh. I really need to eat."

Five clawed hands produced seven skewers of varied grilled meats, mushrooms and wriggling centipedes. Four of those were slapped away by Lilith with a firm "Human stomachs!". The rest Agatha took without a single thought, suddenly so dizzy with hunger that her mind was blank of anything else.

She devoured one skewer after another, took replacements whenever handed to her, bit and tore and swallowed without chewing. There was no salt but there were herbs galore, and hints of smoke. Then when she was done she licked her fingers clean, and cracked a skewer with her teeth to separate into fibers and scrub meat out from between her teeth.

"Last vun for de road, Mistress?" a jaegermonster asked, still holding a skewer of wild onions and mushrooms over Ricimer's gently flaming tail.

Agatha blinked -- then took it. She wasn't really hungry anymore, finally, but it smelled delicious.

She fell asleep with it still in her mouth.

"... why are you still with us, knowing Klaus ... escaped a dozen times..."

"Well yes, but ... much more interesting here! ... sure my father won't miss me much..."

"Are you joking, he's probably on our trail this very moment, it doesn't matter that the jaegers are erasing it. ... don't know how he keeps finding..."

In the darkening sky, so far overhead it was like squinting at a spider's thread, something flickered faintly with sunset light.

"Wha's your father's daemon," she mumbled.

Gilgamesh blinked down at her, surrounded by cart planks and jaeger teeth. "Um. Dragon? That's fairly well-known."

"Mm. S'he ever been dead...?"

Gilgamesh stared down at her, brown hair tumbling around his face. Adam and Lilith exchanged a look, then swiftly looked up.

"--Ooh, curse it, I've been doing the exact same thing, why didn't I--"

"Kites fly lower," Ricimer said through a yawn. "Usedta lookin' down."

"S'okay, though," Agatha continued. "Bitty-stabby will... Mnh."

The next time she woke the cart had a shimmering canopy whose falling folds seemed to disappear whenever she caught a glimpse of the other side.

She was also missing one pullover, a sock, and her best handkerchief. Gilgamesh was shirtless under the waistcoat (oh, sweet lightning), and one of the jaegers was teary-eyed and hatless.

She patted his head awkwardly and promised as soon as she could convince Bitty-stabby it would make him the gaudiest, shimmeriest magic hat there ever was.

#asuka writes #girl genius #daemon AU

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alliepretends · 5 years

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After yesterday’s tiny tantrum I have decided to go for a truly joyful post today. Here are my top 10 DC characters (currently) and a little on why I love them.

1) Diana Prince - She is the icon. I knew who Wonder Woman was before I knew what DC was. I love that she champions peace and diplomacy and that she stands for love above all else. She is among the world’s greatest superheroes for a reason.

2) Dick Grayson - I love Dick’s unabashed skill. I love that he is widely regarded as a great leader and that his acrobatics set him apart from the rest of the Bat-family. I’m also a sucker for characters that seem purely altruistic and heroic but have a sort of hidden capacity for great cruelty and for characters that seem cruel and self-serving but have a sort of hidden capacity for great love. In my opinion, Dick’s idealism about superheroes and his self-sacrificing nature combined with his temper and irrational loyalty put him firmly in the first category.

3) Dinah Lance - Like Dick part of my love from her comes from her skill set. I love the symbolism of a woman whose greatest weapon is her voice. I also like that unlike many other meta superheroes she takes her fighting skills seriously beyond her superpowers. For her to be both a legendary martial artist and have a superpower is amazing. I also love where she stands in the pantheon of DC heroes. The best Justice League origin stories have her as a founding member. Her status as a well-respected member of the Justice League and a regular member of the Birds of Prey means that she helps bridge the gap between two generations of heroes.

4) Cassandra Cain - I, of course, love Cass’s journey. She overcomes not only her abusive child but the killer that abusive childhood tried to brainwash her into being. Her determination and commitment to her ideals is frankly awe-inspiring. It is never a secret that she has worked hard to get to where she is now. She embodies the ideals of Batman more than any of the other Wayne children and she deserves to take over the mantle of the bat. I would also be remiss if I didn’t say I love that she’s among the best fighters in the DC Universe.

This post probably exceeds the limits of what is polite not to put under a read more so here it is:

5) Jessica Cruz - I love how open she is. When she is excited about something she is adorably enthusiastic about it (she made a construct that was a unicorn with armor!). Unlike many heroes, she doesn’t hide her weaknesses or brush them under the rug. She talks openly about her anxiety and shares both her progress and her setbacks. She is completely unpretentious and cares deeply about those around her.

6) Zatanna Zatara - I adore the fact that not only does she not have a secret identity, but her superhero identity is actually the same as her stage identity. To me this one choice accomplishes 4 different things: it pays tribute to her father, it makes a bold statement (come and get me), it acknowledges that the role of a superhero is as performative as that of a stage magician, and it demands equal respect of her power across all platforms (whether that power is real magic or misdirection). I also love the way her magic works. The fact that her magic isn’t just about innate talent or knowledge, but concentration, quick thinking, and creativity is really compelling to me.

7) Donna Troy - This one is a bit of an unfair one, because the main reason I fell in love with her in the first place and the reason she’s so high on my list (it’s an actual list I did a character sort of my top 50 characters) is because of her relationships with other characters in my top 10. Her friendship with Dick might be my favorite relationship in comics and I adore her friendship(/shipability) with Kory. I also love her role as sister/heir apparent to Diana. But, I think the fact that these relationships aren’t just enough to make me love her but actually drag her into the top 10 speaks to just how good of a partner she is. Her ability to be empathetic and accepting while rarely letting anyone take advantage of her is inspiring and is what makes her such an incredible leader in her own right.

8) J’onn J’onzz - I am in love with his kindness and patience. The fact that he is often among the most levelheaded people in any discussion is incredible. I adore that he is respected as one of the greats by Superman, Wonder Woman, and Batman but is perfectly content to be on the Justice League when its most prominent members are Blue Beetle and Booster Gold. I love that despite feeling the loss of his world in a way that neither Clark nor Kara really do he still manages to find laughter and joy in little things and protect his adopted home with an intense ferocity.

9) Koriand’r - I love that there is nothing inauthentic about Kory. She does not fight because she is escaping her dark past (although she has one) she fights because she is a warrior defending what she loves. She never pretends that her time as a slave was anything but gruesome, degrading, and unimaginably painful, but it also does not taint the joy with which she lives her life. She is brilliant and powerful but also willing to not only care for and defend but be on teams led by those younger and less experienced than her so that she may offer her support to those still learning. I know Elseworlds haven’t agreed with me, but I think of all the characters in my top 10 she will be the best parent and is one of the leaders truly shaping the next generation of heroes.

10) Stephanie Brown - The thing I love most about Steph is her grit. From the moment she entered the field of superheroing she faced derision, sexism, and out-right cruelty from Batman and Robin. This despite the fact that she played by their rules, had noble intentions, and was eager to learn. She persevered through their criticisms to become a valued member of the Bat-family. In addition to seeing through her commitment to stopping her father and saving people, despite powerful opposition, Stephanie remains one of the funniest and most cheerful crimefighters around.

This may be too long for anyone but me to ever actually read, but I had a ton of fun doing it so I might make another one for my next 10 favorite characters. If not though here are the top 5 that just missed the list: Lois Lane, John Stewart, Amanda Waller, John Constantine, and Mera.

#dc comics #dcau #dctv #dceu #i considered doing an individual post for each character #but decided i liked it better as a list

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queer-things-and-stuff · 5 years

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KAL-EL CLARK KENT SUPERMAN SAVED ALL HUMANITY protects millions of people innocents CHAMPION AND HERO KRYPTONIAN AND TRUTH and tell me stupid that she poison ivy pamela isley eco-terrorist obessive by plants lesbian genocidal maniac and murderous bloodthirsty and kill all men is heroic eco-terrorist poison ivy kill the fastest in the world wally west flash booster gold michael carter and ted kord blue beetle and others and kill all men is right genocide for heroes in crisis eco-terrorist ?

I am really so fucking confused about what this means. It's rather unintelligible, but I'll do my best to decipher your seemingly angry ask. I mean this isn't even really a question, man damn.

So recently I've been rebloging Harley Quinn, Poison-Ivy, & Birds Of Prey stuff. I assume you don't like Poison-Ivy which, okay like whoever you want and dislike whoever you want Idc. I also assume you like Superman, which again, Is fine like I said Idc. What I don't get Is why you seem so angry rn. Like what is the question? Are you comparing the two and trying to put forth the message that Clark Kent Is better than Poison-Ivy because he's a hero?

I'm gonna be completely honest here and say that I never really (at all) followed Poison-Ivy's story line In comics or anything else like that, I like the relationship that I see portrayed between her and Harley Quinn (who I also never payed much attention to until Suicide Squad) In comics that I've only ever seen here on tumblr floating around on my dash.

Now on the topic of Superman, I really couldn't give less of a fuck about him and his life. I follow Supergirl, which only I started watching In the first place because I watched Melissa Benoist In Glee and wanted to see her again. I never cared about anything having to do with that part of DC (or really DC In general) up until I started watching Supergirl and even now with the 5th season coming up I still don't care about Superman, or Kal-El, or Clark Kent on any of the platforms he's been put out Into.

I like Supergirl much much more than him, I believe In her ideals more than I do his, and overall I have much more reason to like her In general. The only rendition of the DC universe that I know are the way things are portrayed In Supergirl, I've never been a die hard fan of the Kryptonian world, and I know quite alot about things now, but only the versions of thing's that I've seen In the show. The only things I know about the other parts of the DC universe are all the CW version, and I only really pay attention to, you guessed It, Supergirl !

So, If you want to defend Superman for whatever reason against Poison-Ivy than go ahead but I don't see the reason why you would do that to me. Find a more worthy opponent, buddy. Look for someone who's actually educated on Superman, and Gotham, and the DC universe overall.

This blog has never been and will never be about Superman, at the very least I've reblogged parallels of Supercorp and Clois, and a few things about Tyler Hoechlin who just seems like a nice guy. I reblogged Poison-Ivy because of Harley Quinn and the new Birds Of Prey movie, and I'm not going to stop because she's a villain and Superman Is a hero.

Anyways. Back to your regularly scheduled gay sadness and overposting.✌🏽

#ask #thanks for the ask i guess?

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anautisticdragon-blog · 7 years

Photo

"Strawberry" Wally

Hello to anyone who reads this. So, this is an interesting topic that continues to tie into the main thought thread I've had, lately. In this case, I want to have a good look at the tribes of Flash fans and why they like whomever it is they like. From my experiences, the reasons that fans of Wally West's Flash aren't fond of Barry is that Barry has consistently been a one-dimensional character. Even more troubling, the new and more charismatic New 52 Barry Allen only felt so because his writers -- to put it politely -- borrowed so many beats and notes from Wally West's character. If it feels hard to distinguish between Barry and Wally in Rebirth, that's why.

Barry was always a flat character, one-dimensional, the Upstanding Citizen, just your average, every day white picket fences Republican in a time where America had just started to spot the problems with the dominance of that archetype (the '60s). Now, why did Barry Allen fans hate Wally West? From what I've been able to find out... Well...

Did you know that redheaded people regularly experience a lot of prejudice? If you think that blond women have it bad, that's nothing. redheaded women have to deal with anyone who isn't a redhead thinking of them as an unintelligent, fiery slut. If a man has red hair, he's an angry idiot and just about as ugly as any 'White' person could be. Yes, folks, discrimination happens with hair colour as well. White people with brown, black, or blond hair have had it fairly easy. For redheads? Not so much.

You'll notice I'm not saying 'ginger,' here. That's because a lot of redheads have been so hurt by the prejudice that that's actually become a term of hate to them. It hurts them to be called that. "Stupid ginger. Angry ginger. Slutty ginger." It really sucks for them.

I think that a lot of Barry's popularity, frankly, comes from the simple fact that he embodies the Aryan ideology. If you're not familiar with what that is, then let me provide you with an explanation. I'll also show you why that's a problem. Furthermore, let me show that this was represented as an ideal by Nazi Germany. And finally, let me show you a picture of Barry Allen. Barry's the Aryan hero. This is so true that I'll sometimes trip over my own tongue and call him Barry Aryan.

What am I getting at, here?

Barry's a character designed to appeal to white supremacists. He's the Alt-Right hero, in so many ways. He's the ideal. He's the "Perfect White Male" to aspire to. And it's this very reason, I'd imagine, why the TV show went with a darker colour of hair for the Flash TV show. I'd imagine that it's for this same reason that the upcoming film-based Flash is played by Ezra Miller. Ezra doesn't exactly look like the prototypical Aryan that usually iconises Barry Allen, eh? I think that some parts of DC are intelligent enough to grasp why this is a problem. Others? Not so much. I know that Geoff Johns is a fan of Barry's Aryan status, which continues to disappoint me.

Wally, on the other hand, is always represented by groups who've suffered. Whether it's people of colour, or redheads, he's always been someone that a less fortunate person could relate to. Whereas, as I said, Barry (I almost wrote Aryan again) Allen tends to appeal to the whit supremacist. And this matters. It matters because, as I pointed out in my last post, you absolutely have to look at which group is projecting the most powerful sense of normalcy. Then you have to stamp that out.

This is all a continuation of how toxic normality is. Thanks to toxic normality, a completely one-dimensional character with no redeeming qualities to speak of, who's only character development is that he was selfish enough to screw over an entire timeline just to save his own mother? Yes, he's more popular than the redhead who recognises his flaws and makes a very, very real effort to be a good person.

Because prejudice. Because of the ideals of white supremacy.

This just gets to the crux of what bothers me about humanity, it really does.

"I don't like Barry Allen because he's kind of one-dimensional. There's not much to him. And he represents a troubling period of American history that America had already moved past in the '60s. He typifies a Nazi Germany ideal of the perfect human being, which DC comics has done nothing to fix. The only notable character development he's ever actually experienced comes from the utterly shameless appropriation of Wally West's personality."

"I don't want Wally West because he's never acted intelligently. I don't like the red hair of 'strawberry' Wally, either. He's kind of ugly, he's not even smart enough to be a police scientist. I want Barry!"

Unfortunately, these are the arguments. I'd say that one type of mind that's perhaps less prone to the idealising of normalcy and perverse perfection does tend to prefer Wally West. The other likes Barry Allen.

My problem continues to be that I can't pin down whose minds these are any more. I can't say that it's neurotypicals or extraverts who embody this, as that's not really true. I can’t ignore that I've seen people who're convinced they're autistic on the Alt-Right. So I can't deny the reality of my own past bias. However, that doesn't mean that prejudices don't exist. Nor does it mean that they don't all tend to trickle down from a certain point.

That was the very purpose of making the post before this one, to show that this does actually happen. That the most powerful and/or biggest groups are going to project the most perverse, depraved sense of normalcy for everyone else to follow. Since the most powerful group is straight, white, healthy, middle- to upper-class, and that's "normal?" That's what we get with Barry Allen. And I'm going to say that that's not healthy. We shouldn't pander to this.

Johns, DiDio, and others at DC comics do pander to white supremacy, sadly. And that bothers me. There's a lot they actually get right that Marvel doesn't. They don't tokenify ethnic minorities, the disabled, or women as gimmicks. They're very real characters, often written by someone of that consideration. Look at who writes Batgirl & the Birds of Prey, and look at who writes New Super-Man. That's glorious, and I celebrate DC comics for that. I truly do.

In fact, I give DC comics a harder time because I can see that -- for whatever reason -- they're actually trying harder than Marvel ever did. With Marvel, it always felt like a marketing stunt, a gimmick, or something equally tacky. It feels that there are people at DC comics who're actually, really, genuinely trying to make a difference, though. If a comic predominantly features a woman, they're going to try and get a woman writing it. If a comic predominantly features a Chinese person? Likewise.

Frankly, some of DC's side comics -- like Batgirl & the Birds of Prey, New Super-Man, the Blue Beetle, Green Arrow, Hellblazer, and so on -- are some of the most interesting mainstream comics I've had the pleasure of enjoying in quite some time. So I can't help but give them a hard time about how they're putting Barry (almost wrote Aryan again) Allen front and centre. It's against what they're trying to do to evolve DC comics and that makes me truly sad.

Frankly, DC was including women and minority characters more than contemporary Marvel is back in the '90s. Wally West was just one example of that as a redhead. Since redheads do -- I must stress this -- experience a lot of prejudice. They're detached from the powerful white person's ideal of what perfection is, that notion of the superior white state that's marred by those ugly redheads. It's nothing like what Jewish people or black people have endured, of course, but to undermine their suffering because others have suffered is wrong. Which any Jewish or black person would tell you, usually it's the very white, straight Alt-Righters who're playing with that 'logic.'

And who's overly represented in the Alt-Right? White, straight people who embody and love that Aryan ideal. Frankly, if DC keeps Barry Allen in the limelight, they might as well also make him part of the Alt-Right. You know, make it all nice and official. There's a reason that Barry was passed over by Wally in the first place, which DC then forgot thanks to the more toxic influences of the likes of DiDio and Johns.

DC? You can do better.

#dc comics #barry allen #wally west

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