The Bronx Zoo has just released Flaco's necropsy results.
He was not thriving, as the people championing the ideal of "freedom" claimed.
He was poisoned.
He was sick.
He was suffering.
"Freedom" would have eventually killed him. A building just happened to do it first.
"Postmortem testing has been completed for Flaco, the Eurasian eagle owl that was found down in the courtyard of a Manhattan building a little over a year after his enclosure at the Central Park Zoo was vandalized on February 2, 2023. Onlookers reported that Flaco had flown into a building on the Upper West Side of Manhattan on February 23, 2024, and acute trauma was found at necropsy.
Bronx Zoo veterinary pathologists determined that in addition to the traumatic injuries, Flaco had two significant underlying conditions. He had a severe pigeon herpesvirus from eating feral pigeons that had become part of his diet, and exposure to four different anticoagulant rodenticides that are commonly used for rat control in New York City. These factors would have been debilitating and ultimately fatal, even without a traumatic injury, and may have predisposed him to flying into or falling from the building.
The identified herpesvirus can be carried by healthy pigeons but may cause fatal disease in birds of prey including owls infected by eating pigeons. This virus has been previously found in New York City pigeons and owls. In Flaco’s case, the viral infection caused severe tissue damage and inflammation in many organs, including the spleen, liver, gastrointestinal tract, bone marrow, and brain.
No other contributing factors were identified through the extensive testing that was performed.
Flaco’s severe illness and death are ultimately attributed to a combination of factors—infectious disease, toxin exposures, and traumatic injuries—that underscore the hazards faced by wild birds, especially in an urban setting."
The naturalistic fallacy kills animals in horrible ways. The romanticism of what humans want to think of as a "free, wild, pure life" cannot be allowed supplant the reality of injury, sickness, and death. Releasing captive animals (or keeping them from being recaptured) because it's "better" for them to suffer untethered than live a healthy, safe, captive life is inhumane and horrific.
Flaco's life didn't have to end in pain, sickness, and suffering.
Flaco's death didn't have to be tragic.
But once the idea of "freedom" entered the chat, Flaco's fate was unavoidable.
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(DCxDP) The obligations of a rogue versus those of a parent (pt. 2)
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Tw: N/A
Will be crossposted to AO3 eventually
(Pt. 1 here) - (Pt. 3 here)
(Masterlist/subscription post)
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It was a beautiful morning. Somehow, against all odds, the sun was shining through the thick smog perpetually covering Gotham.
And Danny hated it.
He was in pain, he was exhausted, he was grieving, and all he wanted to do was sleep for at least a week.
In an act of celestial mockery, the sun shone regardless.
After around twenty minutes of tossing and turning in bed, trying to get back to sleep, Danny gave up and pried himself out of bed.
He stumbled through the hallway and into the living room, staring openly at every splash of color he saw in the small apartment. He hadn’t forgotten what color looked like in the time he was in the lab, but it was comforting to see.
Someone cleared their throat. Danny whipped his head around, eyes falling on a scrawny, gangly man sitting down in a worn armchair, hunched over a laptop. He was looking at him with a dull, bored expression.
Right. Scarecrow.
His escape.
The chase.
His mom.
“You look a lot less terrifying without the mask,” Danny blurted out, slapping his hand over his mouth. “I didn’t mean that.”
“Well, I certainly wouldn’t call my normal appearance frightening,” Scarecrow hummed, focusing his attention back onto the laptop, “that’s what the costume is for, after all.”
“Oh.”
After a brief moment of excruciating silence, Scarecrow spoke.
“You any good with computers, Danny? Hacking, and all that?”
Danny jolted. Scarecrow needed his help with something! This was great! Now, he’d have more of a reason not to get rid of him!
“Oh, uh, yeah! Not as good as my friend Tucker, but I think I’m pretty good.”
“And you’re familiar with the GiW’s systems specifically,” Scarecrow continued, beckoning him over. Danny complied, shuffling over awkwardly. “Right?”
“Well, I guess? My friends and I got into their stuff a couple of times before they…”
“Wonderful,” Scarecrow said, standing up with a stretch. He shoved the laptop into Danny’s hands and gestured for him to sit down on the couch. “Then you can hack into their system and extract whatever files you can find.”
Danny stared at the man like he’d lost his mind. He looked back at him expectantly.
Danny sat down.
“Yeah, I-I can do that. Tuck and I built a back door into their system ages ago,” he said, checking the screen. It was clear that for all the skills that Scarecrow had, hacking was definitely not one of them. “But, uh, don’t you have someone else that usually does this sort of thing for you? Not that I’m complaining!”
Scarecrow scowled, and Danny felt his heart fall into his ass.
“Usually, I do,” Scarecrow huffed, “but I chose to leave my most recent job with the Penguin early, so now there’s no way that he or Eddie will help me with anything until I make it up to them somehow.”
“Oh,” Danny said.
He had no clue whatsoever who Eddie was.
Danny got to work quickly, hoping that if he ignored the gangly man, he would leave him be. Luckily, he did just that, leaving to go work on something in another room.
Danny checked the laptop’s security before continuing Scarecrow’s progress, making sure that the GiW wouldn’t be able to grab their location.
It was…threateningly good. Whoever Eddie was, he had somehow crammed the functionality of a top-of-the-line PC into a tiny, beat-up old laptop. It almost reminded Danny of Tucker and his terrifying competence with his PDA.
Tucker.
Amity park.
Home.
Danny snapped himself out of his thoughts, tabbing back into the application Scarecrow had up and began to work his magic.
He had near full access to the entire GiW database within half an hour.
Mumbling out a quick thank-you to Tucker, he called Scarecrow over to appraise his work.
“Fixed up some food for you while you worked,” the rogue said, handing him a bowl of oatmeal, taking the laptop into his lap as he did so, “didn’t know how well you could eat, considering you’re recovering from… surgery, so I decided to stay on the safe side.”
Danny had no clue what this guy’s deal was.
He definitely did not tear up at the first genuine thoughtfulness he encountered in weeks, and he did not look away as he ate so that Scarecrow couldn’t see his face.
At least Scarecrow was too focused on the laptop to notice or care.
Or, maybe, he was just mercifully ignoring him.
Either way, Danny ate slowly, not wanting to make himself sick. He allowed himself to absentmindedly look around the room for the first time, taking everything in.
It was strangely homey. The space was filled with warm browns and yellows, a few splashes of color on the wall in the form of (obviously gifted) paintings. There was a beat-up bookshelf against the wall, clearly second-hand, filled to the brim with psychology books. On every available surface there was a different colored candle, all at different stages of use, clearly collected over the course of years.
Danny knew that the man next to him was a crazed, murderous criminal, but his home was oddly reminiscent of Jazz.
He was not about to cry.
“Danny,” Scarecrow hummed, snapping him out of his spiraling, “can you explain this to me?”
He looked over. The rogue was pointing to a new report, seemingly posted only a few hours ago.
Nodding, he took the computer into his lap, pouring over the contents.
He read the report again.
And again.
And again.
Danny swore loudly, crumpling like a wet paper bag, head in his hands.
“What?”
“It’s…” he swore again, glancing back at the laptop, “they…since you became liminal from synthetic ectoplasm, when we’re within about 500 meters of one another, our ectoplasm signatures resonate, and they can’t track us with any of their technology.”
“How is that a bad thing?”
“If we’re not that close to each other, they can track us down from anywhere in the world.”
Scarecrow went dead quiet. After what felt like the single longest minute of Danny’s life, he let out a truly exasperated sigh, slumping over in his seat.
“Yeah, me too,” Danny mumbled, utterly miserable.
“…I’ll have to move my plans back a little,” Scarecrow sighed, “I can’t drag an injured child with me when I attack the Gotham GiW base, you’ll just get in the way.”
“Oh come on,” Danny whined, “I can take care of myself just fine. Besides, Batman brings kids with him to do dangerous stuff all the time, and he’s fine!”
“Might I remind you that the second Robin died violently,” Scarecrow snapped, “and that Batman most likely has more traumatic brain injuries than all of the Gotham rogues combined. That really isn’t the winning argument you think it is.”
Danny paused, trying to think up some way to win the argument. Then, he realized what he had ignored before.
“Wait, Scarecrow, you’re gonna attack the GiW?”
“That’s the plan,” he nodded, “and call me Dr. Crane. I’m only Scarecrow when I’m in the mask.”
But,” Danny sputtered, “Sca—uh, Dr. Crane—that’s insane! The weapons they’ve got- they’ll rip you apart!”
“Not my first time,” Crane said, making Danny wince. “Besides, I have plenty of experience avoiding gunfire. I’ll live.”
“You…” Danny was silent for a while, trying to think of something to say, “fine, but you have to take me with you wherever you go. As soon as they see either of us on their radars, they’ll hunt us down.”
Dr. Crane sighed.
“…Fine. I need some time to plan anyways. Now, you’re going to help me download these files, properly format them, and send them out.”
“…Why?”
“Well, some of the other rogues might appreciate the heads up, and I’d quite like them to be indebted to me. Besides, I still need to pay back the Penguin for ditching him, and he loves knowing things that other people don’t.”
Danny paused.
“That’s an awful idea, no offense. If any of the rogues know our weaknesses, they—”
“Danny, we’re censoring everything. The only things they need to know about are the GiW specifically, and any sort of laws surrounding them.”
Danny snorted.
“You care about laws now?”
“Yes, because if we get taken to Arkham, they’ll hand us off to the GiW the moment they ask, and it’ll be completely legal.”
Oh. Danny had honestly forgotten that Arkham was an option.
“…Ok. I’ll help you. Who are we telling?”
“I don’t think you really need to know,” Dr. Crane said, the faintest shadow of an amused look on his face, “but I’ll humor you for now. We’re sending the files out to the Penguin, Riddler, Poison Ivy via Harley Quinn, Two-Face, and Red Hood.”
Danny nodded. He could live with that.
“Alright, then let’s get to work.”
—
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A Brothers Reunion
The small summoning circle lit up, casting a soft green glow, as two eyes watched it with weary hope.
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Two demons argued violently about a soul, and Danny sighed from his spot on the throne that fully claimed him a month ago. While he still found it hilarious how thoroughly this guy managed to swindle so many of the high ranking demons, it had started to cross into annoying territory. Danny was seriously considering making a whole office dedicated specifically to hold all the paperwork one ‘John Constantine’ was seemingly generating with his very presence. Suddenly, Danny felt a soft tug on his core, much gentler then the summoning rituals of all those crazy cultists that keep popping out of nowhere used. More like the circles he gave to Sam Tucker or Jazz. But he could feel the summoner’s emotions, and the poor guy on the other end felt like he was about to cry.
Danny mentally went through everyone he’s given his personal line to. Then, he shot up and called for Fright Knight to send the demons away while Danny quickly allowed himself to be pulled through the summoning circle to where his brother waited anxiously.
——————————————————
The circle flared, and a large eldrich like figure quickly crawled through. Then, a very familiar voice muttered
“Man I wish these things weren’t so dramatic. I already scared the shit out of the justice league because of it” as the being’s form shifted to the more familiar form he took when seeing Damian for the first time in a decade. His white hair looked a little longer now, and his eyes a less toxic green.
“Danyal” Damian said stiffly. Danny looked up, making eye contact with Damian before responding
“Damian” in response Damian lunged, pressing a blade to Danny’s neck before asking a question only Danny could answer.
“What’s the last story you told me?” Danny simply smiled nostalgically,
“There’s the Damian I know. I told you about Canis Minor 16 days before I died the first time.” Damian heasitated before putting away his weapon and paused before he quickly started to hug Danny, who returned the hug.
“… first time?” Damian asked, still in Danny’s arms.
“Mother didn’t tell you what happened to me after, did she?” Danny asked into his twins hair. Damian didn’t even bother to say anything and just turned his head to look at Danny balefully, before Danny sighed and said
“Of course she didn’t. I was dunked into the Lazarus pits, before mother dropped me off in the middle of nowhere America, where she forbade me from ever talking about my old life or ever attempting to contact you.” Damian paused to process this, before saying
“And the second time?” Danny sighed at that, his face set into a grimace. Damian started to move, bringing Danyal over to his bed, where Danny realized Damian had summoned Danny in his room. Damian sat them both onto his bed, and curled further into Danny’s arms, while gesturing to continue.
“I was adopted by a couple who claimed to be ‘ectobiologists’ who already had an older daughter named Jazz. She’s my sister.” Damian nodded solemnly at that, mentally adding ‘Jazz’ to his list of siblings. Danny pulled out his brick of a phone and started showing Damian pictures of his adoptive parents, his sister and everything else as he spoke about it. “They’d been working on a project in their lab since before they adopted me, longer then they’re had Jazz even. When I was fourteen, they finally tried to turn it on. It failed. It was a portal to what they called ‘The Ghost Zone’, but that realm is much more. The Infinite Realms are the glue that holds all universes together, and its a kind of afterlife. They didn’t know half of that, only that some souls of humans who died stay there, and even then, they thought that these ghosts were only a husk of their former selves, and couldn’t feel pain.” Damian started to connect the dots at that and asked
“You’re one of these ghosts?” It was almost a statement, but Damian wasn’t going to make many assumptions. Danny nodded before continuing
“I had two friends who convinced me to show them the failed portal. I walked inside of the portal we assumed was completely defunct, and I tripped over one of the many wires on the floor. When I tried to stabilize myself, I hit the on button.” Damian’s eyes widened, and he froze while Danny paused. After a moment, Danny continued, saying “My adoptive parents had connected the portal to the towns power grid, and the portal opened up on top of me. Electricity and ectoplasm, what ghosts and the Infinite Realms are made of, clashed inside my body, killing me and reviving me repeatedly until the portal finally spit me back out. I only half died that day.” Danny put his phone away and focused on playing with Damian’s hair. Damian reveled in his brothers affectionate touch like when they were small.
“Half?” Damian asks after a minute or two.
“Half. I technically have several ghost forms, and I have a human form” Damian looked up from Danyal’s arms, his eyes asking the obvious question he was a little afraid to ask, though he’d never admit it. Danny smiled at the unasked question, and rings of light formed around him, before dissipating and revealing a very much alive eighteen year old Danyal Nightingale. He grabbed one of Damian’s hands and pressed it against his neck, allowing Damian to revel in feeling his former dead brother’s pulse. Damian tested Danny’s wrist, and put his ear against Danny’s now warm chest.
Damian will deny the appearance of tears to his death, but Danny didn’t say anything, he just held Damian closer. After a while Danyal started to talk about the stars. Filling the silence with quiet but passionate rambling about stars and space. It was familiar. It was safe and warm and then Richard ruined the moment by slamming open Damian’s door yelling about a ‘Family Game Night’ and got a knife for his troubles. Of course he dodged with practiced ease, but then he realized Damian wasn’t alone in his room. Time seemed to freeze at the stand off. Dick had frozen, as the joy on his face seemed to leach away at the realization that there was an intruder.
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