now that i’m free to yap about 1-800-GOTHAM without my a/ns being ridiculously long, deep dive into why i wrote things the way i did! if people want, i can go even more in depth, but for now, a quick paragraph for each reblog.
first, scarecrow. i did my hardest to make him real scary and intimidating but almost in a clinical fashion, mainly since he's a psychologist. i know he typically targets specific fears someone might have, but let's just say he was going for a mass fear control situation. everyone is scared of suffocating, anyways.
i also had him purposely not use his fear toxin because i think it's not the most important part of his character. he's a psychologist, he's a genius of fear, and he's very intelligent. scarecrow is also my favourite rogue and it sucks to see him always sidelined, his fear gas being the only thing used. he's SCARY. i hope i did him justice.
I was watching a ghost hunter show where the ‘ghost’ could only use the machine to say pre-recorded words. And I had an idea. We know that technology can’t always work with ectoplasm. So what if ghost speak couldn’t be heard over the phone? And to call for help, the Amity Parkers had to get creative to get ahold of the Justice League when the GIW declares all out war on all the ghosts and liminal in town.
“Hello, you have reached the Justice League emergency hotline. What is the nature of your emergency?”
“Hello, hello. Emergency, hello. Justice League.” A distorted male voice answered back.
“Yes, I can hear you. Can you hear me? what is the nature of your emergency?” Green Lantern asked again.
“I can hear you, emergency. Hello Justice League. Hello emergency.”
“Do you need help? Can you hear me?”
“Help. Help. Can you hear me? Help.” The voice distorted again to something like static.
“Prank calls aren’t funny kid. This is an emergency line.” With an exasperated sigh, Green Lantern hung up.
“What was that about?”
“It’s just a prank call. Some kid using a voice mod thing.”
“Really? That’s annoying.”
“I know. But it’s not that unusual. Kids don’t have anything better to do during the summer.”
“I guess. What are you doing on hotline duty? You’re not scheduled for refresher training for another few months, right?”
“Food fight in the cafeteria. Batman added everyone involved to additional monitor or dispatch duty twice a week for the next month.”
“Yikes. Hate to be you. Who else got caught?”
“Flash, Plasticman, Vigilante, and Shining Knight.”
Zatanna raised an eyebrow. “Can’t imagine Sir Justin getting involved in a food fight.”
Hal shrugged with a good-humored smirk, “Vig took a salad bowl to the head, Sir Justin jumped in to cover his retreat. Right in time for Bats to break up the fun.”
Zatanna giggled, “Poor Sir Justin.”
“Poor Sir Justin?” Hal Jorden gasped dramatically, “What about me? I was just an innocent bystander.”
“I’m sure you were.”
“What are you doing here anyway?”
“Unlike you. I’m just here for one shift for refresher dispatch training.”
“Good for you. Well, have at it. The active-duty roster is on the big screen with who's suited up and available.”
Zatanna looked up at the large monitor with pinging dots in various locations around the world. “Alright. A bit better than the old system of scrolling for available heroes and asking where they are.”
“Yeah, Cyborg linked everyone’s com into the system so we can tell who is where, when their com is active.”
“Sounds good. Alright, Let’s do this.” Zatanna put headset on and clicked ‘available operator’ on the screen. Immediately her phone rang. “Hello, this is the Justice League Emergency Hotline. What is the nature of your emergency?”
“Emergency. Hello, Justice League. Emergency.” A female voice came through her headset. The connection was very poor. Interference and static came through.
“Can you hear me? This is the Justice League emergency Hotline. Do you need help?” Zatanna looked over at Hal. He was fiddling with his headset cord. He looked up at her and she gestured her head to the screen. It was the same number as his prank call.
“Hear me? Help. Justice League. Emergency Help.” The feminine voice sounded vaguely familiar. Zatanna ignored it to confront the prankster.
“Kid, this isn’t a joke. This is a serious line for actual emergencies. You can’t keep calling. I’m going to hang up now. Please don’t call back.”
“Isn’t a Joke. This isn’t a Joke. Please don’t. Hang up now. Actual Emergencies. Keep calling. Hotline. Justice League. Help. For actual emergencies.” The static under the female voice sharpened. Zatanna paused. Her finger was just hovering over the button to end the call when something stopped her. The tone of voice was sharp. Irritated. Also, strangely familiar. After a second it dawned on her. Hal was still looking at her, so she waved him over to listen into the call. Once he was listening with his own muted headset, she asked “Are you…? Are you repeating what I’m saying?”
“Repeating. Help. Isn’t a Joke. What I’m saying. Emergency. Help. Hello. Help. Emergency.”
Zatanna finally recognized the voice. “Is that my voice? Are you repeating with my voice?”
“Repeating. Voice. You. Emergency. Help. Isn’t a Joke. Help. Justice League. Don’t. Hang Up.”
“You’re using my voice to talk back to me? My words. And…You can only repeat what you hear… is that right?” Zatanna shared a glance with a horrified Hal. Him, just realizing he had hung up on an actual emergency. Not a kid playing a joke.
Zatanna’s own voice echoed staticky in her ear. “Right. Right. Can repeat. Only. Talk back. Using voice. Help. Emergency help.”
“Are you in danger?” She looked over at Hal who was typing on his own computer to trace the call origin. He looked back at her and shook his head. Weirdly, they can’t find where the signal is coming from.
“Danger. Emergency. Help Justice League. Help. In danger”
“I understand. I’m going to ask you where you are. Do you understand?” Zatanna was going to have to narrow this down. She pulled up a world map onto her screen.
“Understand. Help. Emergency.” The static in the voice softened slightly. Like relief.
“OK, we need to know where you are. What continent are you on? Asia? Africa? Australia? Europe? North America? South America?”
“North America. Help. Emergency.”
Zatanna clicked on the screen to enlarge the North American Continent. “OK, you’re in North America. Are you in Canada or America?”
“America. Help.”
Another click of the mouse to focus on the USA. “OK are you in the North, Northeast, Southeast, West, Southwest, or Midwest?”
“Midwest. Midwest. Help emergency. Help. America. Midwest.”
“OK I’m going to ask your state now. Do you know it?” Zatanna clicked on the Midwest region of the map to enlarge it more. Hal was standing up now. Anticipation making his body glow faintly green. He was texting something on his phone, but Zatanna ignored it to focus on her own echoing voice on the other end of the line.
“Know it. know it.” Her voice repeated back, “Ask.”
“Are you in North Dakota? Are you in Minnesota? Are you in South Dakota? Are you in Nebraska, Kansas, Iowa, Missouri, Wisconsin, Illinois, Michigan-“
The voice interrupted her. “Illinois. Illinois, Midwest America, Illinois. Help. Emergency. Justice League Help.”
“Do you know where in Illinois you are?”
“Yes, yes. Where Illinois. Emergency. Ask.”
Zatanna enlarged the map of the state infront of her. The closest hero was in Detroit Michigan and they didn’t’ have any abilities to help them get to Illinois quickly. She gestured to Hal to look at the screen. He nodded his understanding. “Do you know where in the state you are? what region or what county?
“County. Know. County.”
“OK I’m going to name a few counties. Tell me yes or no if you are there, okay?”
“Yes, yes. Tell me.”
Zatanna listed off the counties on the map. Her tongue slightly tangling over the midwestern words. “OK, Joe Durres, Steffensen, Winnebago, Boone, McHenry, Lake, Cook, Dupage, Kane, Dekalb, Ogle, Carroll, Whiteside, Lee-“
The voice interrupted again. “ Lake. County.”
“OK you’re in Lake County. is that right?” Zatanna clicked over the county and enlarged the map.
“Right. Right, help. Emergency. In Lake County.”
“OK I’m going to name off some cities in Lake County. Are you in a city? yes or no”
“City no. name cities. Yes.”
Zatanna paused for a second. “Do you mean you are not in a city, but you can name the closest one to you? yes or no?”
“Yes. Name. Closet one. Name. Closest. City. Emergency.”
“Okay. I understand. Are you in Gurney? are you in Libertyville, Grayslake, round lake, or round lake beach? Are you in Lake Forest, Zion, Vernon Hills, Highland Park, or north Chicago-“
The voice cut her off again. “Park.”
“Are you in Highland Park?”
“No. Park. In Park. Park. Park. Park. Emergency. In Park.” The tone of the voice did’t change but the words came faster, almost overlapping over themselves.
“OK calm down. Let me understand. Are you in a park or in a place called park?”
“In a place called Park. Help emergency. In place called park.”
Zatanna scanned the list of Illinois cities called ‘Park’ in the county. “OK are you in Round Lake Park or Beach Park, Deerfield Park, Park City, or Deer Park.”
“No. Place called Park. No city. place called park.”
“So you’re in a place called Park but it’s not a city is that right?”
“ Right. Place call park. Emergency. not city. Help.”
“OK, let's go down the list. Brook Park, Mill Park, Park Barrington, River Park, Park Township, VernonPark Hills, West Keegan Park, West Deerfield Park, Amity Park, Wheeling Park-“
“Amity. Amity Park. Emergency in Amity Park. Emergency in Amity Park. emergency help help emergency.”
“OK you're an Amity Park. Is that right?”
“Right. Right. In Amity Park”
Zatanna nodded to Hal who was still texting on his phone. He nodded back to her.
“OK, I know where you are now. Now we need to know what kind of emergency is it a natural disaster? is it a villain? is it an alien?”
“Villain. Emergency. villain villain villain.” The words came fast. Static was almost overwhelming.
“OK, calm down. I'm right here. Does the villain have powers or not.”
“Villian have. No. Powers. I'm here. Powers. Help. Natural- powers. Help. I'm. kind of. Natural. Help. Powers. We. Need help. OK?”
Zatanna paused. The sentences didn’t make sense. The villain did not have powers? But the caller said “I’m. Kind of. Natural.” She shared a look to Hal. Hal typed on his computer and a message appeared on her screen.
“I txted Flash. He can be there, but he needs to know what kind of situation he’s running into.” Zatanna read the message and nodded.
“OK. You need to give me more information. There are villains but they don’t have powers? Can you tell me what kind of natural powers you mean? Are they metagene powers? Are they magic? Are there weapons?”
“Magic. Weapons. Powers magic. I. powers. magic. Help. Can you help. Me?”
Zatanna felt a rush of fear. Magic powers. ‘Villains no powers. Weapons’ must mean that the villains don’t have any powers, but they have weapons that can affect the magic user who is calling. She looked over at Hal. He nodded. “Okay. I have magic too. I am going to Amity Park to help you. Can you tell me how many villains there are? Are there more than five or less than five?
“More than five. Villains. I have magic too. Villains. Weapons. more than we. I am going too. yes. Yes going. Help.”
So, the caller definitely needed magic backup. Zatanna gestured to Hal who began to send an all-notice message to any Magic using League hero. “Are the villains after your powers? is that right? the villains are attacking you for your powers?”
“Right. Right villains attacking for powers. Help emergency. More than me. Powers. Villains attacking. We need help. Amity park. Needs help.”
Zatanna froze. ‘We need help.’ More than me…powers. We need help. Oh god. “Is there more than one of you with magic? There’s a group of you with powers that the villains are attacking?” Zatanna asked. A group of magic users fighting villains? Maybe sending more magic users isn’t the best idea. They might need some heavy hitters for this.
“Group. with powers. Magic. Amity Park. Magic. Villains attacking. Disaster. Emergency help. Villains have. More than one of you. Of you. We. villains have. More than one. Of We.”
It took Zatanna only a second. By now she was standing up out of her chair. “Do The villains have hostages? With magic powers? How many?”
Hal had linked in the call with multiple coms. On the large monitor Zatanna could see multiple heroes dots shift slightly. All in the direction of Illinois. She was grateful to see Wonder Woman, Flash, and Captain Marvel all headed in that direction. “We’ve got hero’s coming your way. They will be there soon to help you and rescue the hostages.”
“Many hostages. Many magic in Amity Park. Weapons. Villains have. Weapons. We have. Magic. Villains have Hostages. Villains have. Soon. Powers. We need help. Heroes coming. Justice league. Help. Not villains. We not. Villains. Help we.”
Zatanna felt sick as she understood that message. ‘The villains have hostages and weapons. The caller and the others have powers. But then… villains have…soon…powers. Did that mean that the villains were taking powers away from whoever was calling? She paused at that last sentence. “You’re not the villains. what do you mean by that?
“We. Not. the Villains. Villains have hostages. Villains have weapons. Isn’t a joke. Isn’t. Isn’t Right. We. Not Villains. We Natural. We not weapons. We not villains. Help. Rescue hostages. Rescue. Me. Help Me. Help we have Powers. Help.”
“You’re not the villains, I know. You say you are natural. Do you mean that when the heroes get there, they might think you are the villains and get confused?” Zatanna knew that multiple heroes were silently listening to the call.
“We not the villains. Heroes might think. Powers. Are the. Weapons. We Amity Park. We need help. Justice league get here. Rescue Hostages.”
Hal messaged her again on her screen. Zatanna read off the message.
“We’ve alerted the Illinois National Guard as well. They’ll be there soon to help.”
“No. No. No. National Guard. No help. Villains. Guard villains. Help we. Help Amity Park.”
Zatanna looked confused. “What? No the national guard is coming there to help.”
“National Guard. The.Villains. They guard. The villains. No help. They’ll. Weapon. Amity Park. Powers. Justice League Rescue Amity Park. Help. Help. Help.” The static became so prevalent that Zatanna had to fight the impulse to rip the headset off. She tried to decipher the words.
“Okay. Okay we’ll help you. But we need to be able to find you. Are you in a house or a building? Can you get to a rooftop?”
“Building Rooftop. Heroes Find Me.”
“How can we find you? Can you wave a flag or give us a sign. Are you a woman or a man? What do you look like.”
There was a long pause. “I can. Wave. Kid. Kid. Woman. Kid woman.”
Zatanna wondered for a long moment where the word ‘kid’ came from before remembering when she first accused the caller of prank calling. She said ‘Kid, this isn’t a joke.’ The she felt bile flood her throat as she understood what they meant. “Are…are you a child?”
Zatanna’s own voice answered back. “Child. Kid. Woman child. Rooftop. Help Justice League. Find. Me. Help Hostages. Help. Amity Park.”
Flashes voice came over the com line. Muted from the call but clear in Zatanna’s other ear. “Oh my god. I’m here. It’s a war zone. There’s…We’re going to need back up. Medical units. There are tanks and fires everywhere. There’s been some kind of artillery shot at different buildings. It’s a war zone.”
There was a silent horrified moment as all the heroes listening absorbed the information. “I think I see our caller. It’s a little girl. Maybe eight or ten. White hair. She’s floating. She’s on the library roof with a giant phone. I think she sees me.”
In Zatanna’s other ear her own voice repeated. “Heroes find me. Rooftop. Help.”
“The man in red is called Flash. He’s there to help.”
“He’s there. Man In Red. Help. Flash. Find me.”
“I’m on my way too. Just stay with Flash and tell him what you need, okay sweetie?” Zatanna’s voice was infinitely softer now that she knew it was a child on the phone.
“Okay. Stay with Flash. Help. On. You. Way.”
The line shut off and Zatanna flinch at the sudden silence in her ear. She glanced over at Hal. “I’m going to Zeta down to Amity.”
“I’m right behind you. Flash said a war zone. I…I need to be there.”
Zatanna nodded at his guilty expression. “Right. Let’s hurry and get to Amity Park.”
i'm genuinely having so much fun writing a jock protagonist. can't believe i never tried this before. all these years i've been limiting myself needlessly
Bruce is reading the paper when the pour of Tim's coffee goes abruptly quiet. It would be hard to pinpoint why this is disturbing if it wasn't for the way the soft, tinny sound the vent system in the manor makes cuts out for the first time since being updated in the 90s. The pour, Bruce realizes, has not slowed to a trickle before stopping. It has simply stopped. And there is no overeager clack of a the mug against the marble counter or the uncouth first slurp (nor muttered apology at Alfred's scolding look) immediately following the end of the pour.
Bruce fights the instinct to use all of his senses to investigate, and instead keeps his eyes on the byline of the article detailing the latest set of microearthquakes to hit the midwest in the last week. Microearthquakes aren't an unusual occurrence and aren't noticeable by human standards, which is why this article is regulated to page seven, but from several hundred a day worldwide to several hundred a day solely in the East North Central States, seismologists are baffled.
Bruce had been considering sending Superman to investigate under the guise of a Daily Planet article requested by Bruce Wayne (Wayne Industries does have an offshoot factory in the area) when everything had stopped twenty seconds ago. That is what he assumes has happened (having not moved a muscle to confirm) in the amount of time he assumes has passed. His million dollar Rolex does not quite audibly tick but in the absolute silence it should be heard, which confirms the silence to be exactly that—absolute.
While Bruce can hold his breath with the best of the Olympian swimmers, he has never accounted for a need to remain without blinking without being able to move one's eyes. Rotating the eyeballs will maintain lubrication such that one could go without blinking for up to ten minutes. But staring at the byline fixedly, he estimates another twenty seconds before tears start to form.
These are the thoughts Bruce distracts himself with, because he doesn't dare consider how Tim and Alfred haven't made a (living) sound in the past forty-five seconds. About Damian, packing his bag upstairs for school after a morning walk with Titus that was "just pushing it, Master Damian".
There is a knife to his right, if memory serves (it does). In the next five seconds—
"Your wards and guardian are fine, Mr. Wayne," the deepest voice Bruce has ever heard intones. For a dizzying moment, it is hard to pinpoint the location of the voice, for it comes from everywhere—like the chiming of a clocktower whilst inside the tower, so overpowering he is cocooned in its volume.
But it is not spoken loudly, just calmly, and when he puts the paper down, folds it, and looks to his right, a blue man sits in Dick's chair.
He wears a three piece suit made entirely of hues of violet, tie included. He has a black brooch in the shape of a cogwheel pinned to his chest pocket, a simple chain clipped to his lapel. Black leather gloves delicately thumb Bruce's watch (no longer on his wrist, somewhere between second 45 and 46 it has stopped being on his wrist), admiring it.
"You'll forgive me," the man says with surety. "Clocks are rather my thing, and this is an impressive piece." He turns it over and reveals the 'M. Brando' roughly scratched into the silver back. He frowns.
"What a shame," he says, placing it face side up on the table.
"Most would consider that the watch's most valuable characteristic." Bruce says, voice steady, hands neatly folded before him. Two inches from the knife. To his left, there is an open doorway to the kitchen. If he turns his head, he might be able to get a glance of Tim or Alfred.
He doesn't look away from the man.
"It is the arrogance of man," the man says, raising red eyes (sclera and all) to Bruce, "to think they can make their mark on time."
"...Is that supposed to be considered so literally?" Bruce asks, with a light smile he does not mean.
The man smiles lightly back, eyes crinkling at the corners. He looks to be in his mid thirties, clean-shaven. His skin is a dull blue, his hair a shock of white, and a jagged scar runs through one eye and curving down the side of his cheek, an even darker, rawer shade of blue-purple.
The man turns the watch back over and taps at the engraving. "Let me ask you this," he says. "When we deface a work of art, does it become part of the art? Does it add to its intrinsic meaning?"
Bruce forces his shoulders to shrug. "It's arbitrary," he says. "A teenager inscribes his name on the wall of an Ancient Egyptian temple and his parents are forced to publicly apologize. But runic inscriptions are found on the Hagia Sophia that equate to an errant Viking guard having inscribed 'Halfdan was here' and we consider it an artifact of a time in which the Byzantine Empire had established an alliance with the Norse and converted vikings to Christianity."
"The vikings were as errant as the teenager," the man says, "in my experience." He leans back in his chair. "I suppose you could say the difference is time. When time passes, we start to think of things as artistic, or historical. We find the beauty in even the rubble, or at least we find necessity in the destruction..."
He offers Bruce the watch. After a moment, Bruce takes it.
"The problem, Mr. Wayne, is that time does not pass for me. I see it all as it was, as it is, as it ever will be, at all times. There is no refuge from the horror or comfort in that one day..." he closes his hand, the leather squeaking. And then his face smooths out, the brief severity gone. He regards Bruce calmly.
"You can look left, Mr. Wayne."
Bruce looks left. Framed by the doorway, Tim looks like a photograph caught in time. A stream of coffee escapes the spout of the stainless steel pot he prefers over the Breville in the name of expediency, frozen as it makes its way to the thermos proclaiming BITCH I MIGHTWING. Tim regards his task with a face of mindless concentration, mouth slack, lashes in dark relief against his pale skin as he looks down at the mug. Behind him, Bruce can see Alfred's hand outstretched towards the refrigerator handle, equally and terrifyingly still.
"My name is Clockwork," the man says. "I have other names, ones you undoubtedly know, but this one will be bestowed upon me from the mouth of a child I cherish, and so I favor it above all else. I am the Keeper of Time."
"What do you want from me?" Bruce asks, shedding Wayne for Batman in the time it takes to meet Clockwork's eyes. The man acknowledges the change with a greeting nod.
"In a few days time, you will send Superman to the Midwest to investigate the unusual seismic activity. By then, it will be too late, the activity will be gone. They will have already muzzled him."
"Him."
"There is a boy with the power to rule the realm I come from. Your government has been watching him. The day he turned 18, they took him from his family and hid him away. I want you to retrieve him. I want you to do it today."
"Why me?"
"His parents do not have the resources you do, both as Batman and Bruce Wayne. You will dismantle the organization that is keen on keeping him imprisoned, and you will offer him a scholarship to the local University. You and yours will keep him safe within Gotham until he is able to take his place as my King."
This is a lot of information to take in, even for Bruce. The idea that there could be a boy powerful enough to rule over this (god, his mind whispers) entity and that somehow, he has slipped under all of their radars is as frustrating as it is overwhelming. But although Clockwork has seemed willing to converse, he doesn't know how many more questions he will get.
"You have the power to stop time," he decides on, "why don't you rescue him? Would he not be better suited with you and your people?"
"Within every monarchy, there is a court," Clockwork. "Mine will be unhappy with the choice I have made," he looks at Bruce's watch, head cocked. "In different worlds, they call you the Dark Knight. This will be your chance to serve before a True King."
Bruce bristles. "I bow to no one."
"You'll all serve him, one day," Clockwork says, patiently. "He is the ruler of realms where all souls go, new and old. When you finally take refuge, he will be your sanctuary." He frowns. "But your government rejects the idea of gods. All they know is he is other. Not human. Not meta. A weapon."
"A weapon you want me to bring to my city."
"I believe you call one of your weapons 'Clark', do you not?" Clockwork asks idly. "But you misunderstand me. They seek to weaponize him. He is not restrained for your safety, but for their gain."
"And if I don't take him?" Bruce asks, because a) Clockwork has implied he will be at the very least impeded, at worst destroyed over this, and b) he never did quite learn not to poke the bear. "You won't be around if I decide he's better off with the government."
"You will," Clockwork says, with the same certainty he's wielded this entire conversation. "Not because he is a child, though he is, nor because you are good, though you are, nor even because it is better power be close at hand than afar.
"I have told you my court will be unhappy with me. In truth, there are others who also defend the King. Together we will destroy the access to our world not long after this conversation. The court will be unable to touch him, but neither will we as we face the repercussions for our actions. I am telling you this, because in a timeline where I do not, you think I will be there to protect him. And so when he is in danger, even subconsciously, you choose to save him last, or not at all. And that is the wrong choice.
"So cement it in your head, Bruce Wayne," the man says, "You will go to him because I tell you to. And you will keep him safe until he is ready to return to us. He will find no safety net in me. So you will make the right choice, no matter the cost."
"Or, when our worlds connect again, and they will," his voice now echoes in triplicate with the voices of the many, the young, the old, Tim, Bruce's mother, Barry Allen, Bruce's own voice, "I will not be the only one who comes for you."
"Now," he says, producing a Wayne Industries branded BIC pen. "I will tell you the location the boy is being kept, and then I would like my medallion back, please. In that order."
Bruce glances down and sees a golden talisman, attached to a black ribbon that is draped haphazardly around the neck of his bathrobe, so light (too light, he still should have—) he has not felt its weight until this moment.
Bruce flips the paper over, takes the pen, and jots down the coordinates the being rattles off over the face of a senator. By his calculation, they do correspond with a location in the midwest.
"You will find him on B6. Take a left down the hallway and he will be in the third room down, the one with a reinforced steel door. Take Mr. Kent and Mr. Grayson with you, and when you leave take the staircase at the end of the hallway, not the elevator."
The man gets up, dusts off his impeccably clean pants, and offers him a hand to shake.
"We will not meet again for some time, Mr. Wayne."
Bruce looks at the creature, stands, and shakes his hand. It feels like nothing. The Keeper of Time sighs, although nothing has been said.
"Ask your question, Mr. Wayne."
"I have more than one."
"You do," Clockwork says. "But I have heard them all, and so they are one. Please ask, or I will not be inclined to answer it."
"What does this boy mean for the future, that you are willing to sacrifice yourself for him?"
There is a pause.
"So that is the one," Clockwork says, after a time. "Yes. I see. I should resolve this, I suppose."
"Resolve what?"
"It is not his future I mean to protect," the man says. "It is his present."
"You want to keep him safe now..." Bruce says, but he's not sure what the being is trying to say.
"I am not inclined," Clockwork repeats, stops. His expression turns solemn, red eyes widening. In their reflection, Bruce can see something. A rush of movement too quick to make heads or tails of, like playing fast forward on a videotape. "Superman reports no signs of unusual seismic activity. With nothing further to look into, you let it go in favor of other investigative pursuits. You do not find him, as you are not meant to. He stays there. His family, his friends, they cannot find him. His captors tell him they have moved on. He does not believe them, until he does. He stays there. He stays there until he is strong enough to save himself."
Clockwork speaks stiffly, rattling off the chain of events as if reading a Justice League debrief. "He is King. He will always be King. He is strong, and good, and compassionate, and he is great for my people because yours have betrayed his trust beyond repair. He throws himself into being the best to ever Be, because there is nothing Left for him otherwise. We love him. We love him. We love him. My King. Forevermore."
The red film in his eyes stall out, and Bruce is forced to look away from how bright the image is, barely making out a silhouette before they dull back to their regular red.
"I am not inclined," Clockwork says slowly, "To this future."
"Because of what it means in the present," Bruce finishes for him. "They're not just imprisoning him, are they."
"They will have already muzzled him."
Clockworks is right in front of him faster than he can process, fist gripping the medallion at his neck so tight he now feels the ribbon digging into his skin.
"Unlike you, Mr. Wayne," and for the first time, the god is angry, and the image of it will haunt Bruce for the rest of his life, "I do not believe in building a better future on the back of a broken child."
"Find him," the deity orders, and yanks the necklace so hard the ribbon rips—
Clack!
"sluuuuurp!"
"Master Timothy, honestly!"
"Sorry Alfred!"
what the actual fuck. do conspiracy theorists actually think like this??
sorry to bother you, but you had mentioned a Percy/Rachel/Annabeth AU and I was wondering if you had any crumbs of it you would be willing to spare
My thought process is that Percrachelbeth gets together around September post-PJO, it's a touch odd for both Rachel and Annabeth since they were previously antagonistic, but Annabeth realizes she was also snappy because she also liked Rachel. Then Percy vanishes and Annabeth and Rachel get the time to bond and fall in love more, while Percy dreams about them (adorable). Everything happens in HOO, and TOA, and then Rachel's dad dies.
She's left in charge of the company, since he apparently had a fit of conscious and left it to her, but surprise! Lex Luthor wants something (a Mcguffin), and thinks Rachel will be easier to manipulate, unaware that Percy and Annabeth are completely down to ruin his life.
The comprehensive takedown of LexCorp begins, and they get an invite to the inauguration of Oliver Queen as Mayor of Star City, which Dick is also invited to.
This is basically more of a Green Arrow/Teen Titans with a splash of Lex Luthor x PJO fic, I'm thinking that Cissie might be a legacy of Apollo, I'm sticking to blonde Percy, but there will be jokes about Annabeth having Dick's taste in redheads which Rachel bears with dignity until she starts ominously predicting people's futures.
This is not a bother, please send me more asks, I love answering them!
What about the idea of lady Gotham adopting Danny? Like clearly (king or not) this is a baby ghost. He's basically fresh dead! She realizes she can't care for both of Danny's halfs but she has a knight just for that. Batman loves kids and he's going to love her little Danny.
The problem is Lady Gotham is a dotting mother. She loves her sons (Danny and Jason) and wants nothing more then to spend time with them but only Danny can see her and she makes it his problem.
She adjusts his clothing, scolds him for neglecting himself, every night she tucks him into bed. Still a little sad her knights haven't taken her other son in yet. Though she knows Tim is working on a file since she manipulates her city so Danny gets their attention in increasingly dangerous ways.
So far because she can't just bluntly tell Bruce to take in her son she has put Danny into 5 hostage situations this week and it's a Tuesday. He runs into the batfam day and night, masks on and off. So they know something is up with this kid but not what.
The real trouble is when Lady Gotham decides Danny needs to feed his ghostly side. He refuses to eat blog ghosts and her own extoplasm is... a little cursed. So she gets smart. In the middle of a scarecrow attack Danny is teleported to the main epicenter; and Lady Gotham is now just spoon feeding him fear Toxin until he eats on his own.
Danny is mortified because what the fuck this taste great and now he's just binging on the weird chemical concoction some rogue came up with. Until there is none left. So when the bats get there to shut it down Danny is just in food coma and Scarecrow is panicked because 'what is this kid?!'.
babe. I know we’re all going thru a lot rn but I just wanna give u the heads up that sesame streets future is in jeopardy. hbo has chosen not to renew it for new episodes (a series that has been going since 1969) and the residents of 123 Sesame Street no longer have a home :(
AHHHH ITS SO CUTEEEE
stop checking on them they don’t miss you
Ending 1. Holy shit.
Everyone: Happy birthday, Tim!!
Tim: what?? Holy shit i forgot it was my birthday!
Jason: yup and you’re 18 so you know what that means
Dick: jason no
Jason: i got you a pack of cigarettes for your birthday gift!
Tim: uhh, thanks but… i don’t really plan on taking up that habit
Jason: wow golly gee. That’s a real shame right there. Huh guess i have no choice but to enjoy these myself. Welp it’s the thought that counts right timbo
Tim: yeahh, thanks Jason…
Steph: anyyyway, i got a cake, your favorite!
Dick: no, gifts first!
Damian: indeed. Opening presents should be top priority.
Duke: I’m hungry and there are a lot of presents so I vote cake!
Cass: …cake would be… nice
Alfred: might we let master Tim decide? It is his special day after all
Bruce: Tim, cake or gifts first?
Tim: cake!!!
[Rolls out cake]
Tim: wow Alfred it looks great! But… and I’m not complaining it’s just… it says I’m 17
Alfred: ? Indeed you are master Tim
Tim: uhh, this is my 18th birthday. We already established that
Damian: -tt- what are you on about, Drake? Just blow out the candles
Tim: but… [sees the banner above that now reads happy “17th birthday” instead of “18th” birthday]
Tim: but… but…
Dick: r u feeling okay, Tim?
Tim: jason u know I’m 18 now right? You literally just tried to give me cigarettes for my birthday?
Dick: jason you did what??
Jason: i didn’t I swear! I got him a pair of socks, white and plain like him. Although thanks, Replacement, now i know what you want for next year i guess
Steph: tim… you’re 17…
Tim: no I’m not! Here I’ll get my drivers license… [looks at license]
Tim: but this says I was born in… no i was born a year earlier than this! Guys something is really wrong!
Duke: dude ur really starting to freak us out
Bruce: tim… i assure you that today is your 17th birthday
Tim: … today is my 17th birthday? Is… that can’t be… is today really my 17th?
Dick: yeah and congrats on turning 17, Tim! You’re finally a dancing queen!!
Duke: just think next year you’ll be an adult!
Tim: ha… yeah… next year… it’s just… i feel like I’ve heard that before
Tim: ha, must be tired. Oh well! [Blows out candles] happy 17th birthday for me, I guess
I need people to stop getting so precious about Clark "not letting" Bruce kill the Joker after Jason’s death post-Crisis. Everyone acts like it was like this:
But it was more:
So, we all know the story. Actually. Wait. Maybe we don't. So. The story beneath the cut.
Jason got benched as being Robin because he was not dealing well with his parents' deaths, felt like he was no longer wanted because he was adopted specifically to be Robin (and Bruce is shit at making his kids feel loved a lot of times). Jason discovered the woman who raised him was his step mother, not his bio mother. He goes looking for bio mom. Finds bio mom, she hugs him and tells him she's missed him so much, Bruce contemplates letting Jason live with his family if that would make him happier despite being obviously cut up about the idea of losing Jason. Bio mom is being extorted by the Joker to let him ship out Joker Venom disguised as medical supplies because he can't just steal the supplies and sell them. Bruce has to go stop the shipment of Joker Venom, his portable chopper is too small for two, so Jason is left behind. Jason is told to wait, but The Killing Joke just happened and his bio mom is alone with the Joker (who is insane, capricious and evil), so, obviously he has to save his mother and could not wait. Bio Mom is outside, no guards, Jason says, "Hey, I'm actually Robin, I'm here to save you from the Joker" and she says "Nah, he's actually gone, so I'm fine. But let's go inside so I can grab my things and we can leave." Her things turn out to be a gun to point at Jason after leading him to the Joker. Jason is too stunned to move. The Joker and his goons beat Jason up and then the Joker uses the crowbar to finish beating him to a presumed death. His bio mom at some point couldn't bear to watch it anymore and turns around to smoke a cigarette. Once Joker’s done, bio mom asks what they're going to do about Batman, and the Joker is all "oh. Yeah, lol. Probably was a bad idea to kill his kid. Whoops. My bad." And then ties up the bio mom to kill her and erase any evidence he brutally attacked/killed Jason. The Joker sets a bomb on a timer and leaves. Jason uses the last of his strength to untie his bio mom so she can escape. He can't see well enough to try and disarm the bomb. She tries to get them both out. The door is locked. Jason shields her as the bomb goes off, but she dies just as Batman comes up and tells him the Joker did it, calls Jason a hero, says he deserved a better mother (he did) but does not/is unable to own up to her part in Jason’s death before dying herself. Bruce finds Jason’s body and is fucking devastated.
So after that, Bruce chases the Joker down to the UN because the Joker lucked into being a diplomat for Iran and is now meeting at the UN assembly in New York. Bruce is 100% set on doing a premeditated murder of the Joker for Jason. The US government is aware of this. They hire Superman to grab Batman to try and talk him down because the Joker has diplomatic immunity for past crimes. It does not go well.
"That’s the law, not Justice." Batman is 100% still going to kill the Joker. Everyone knows. Superman knows. Superman says the stupid thing is putting vengeance above the interests of the country, not killing Joker.
Batman sneaks into the Joker’s room, and the Joker (forgetting his earlier desire to not get fucking killed by Batman) is like "oh man, I wish I could have seen your face when you found his body" and further needles Bruce with a "Or are you here to thank me for getting rid of him for you?" Making Bruce triple down on killing the Joker.
"Your confirming it makes what I have to do a lot easier."
Bruce manages to get in to observe the UN meeting as Bruce Wayne. Superman is disguised as a guard. Bruce is seething, watching the Joker, knowing that is the guy who killed Jason.
"I should have terminated his vile existence years ago. But I didn't. I couldn't. His insanity gained him a stay of execution. But no longer. ... Jason’s dead."
They both know the Joker is too stupid and lacks the impulse control needed to not attack the UN and immediately lose his immunity, which is the only thing keeping him alive. Joker releases Joker Venom to kill the delegates. Superman super breathes to inhale all the gas, which he's immune to because he's Superman and then says this as he leaves to go find a place to release the poison gas safely.
"Batman, he's all yours."
Superman basically says "You can kill him now" because he knows Batman’s mind has not changed, and Superman had not once tried to say "killing Joker would be wrong" just that it couldn't happen before the Joker acted in a way that lost him his immunity.
And Bruce does go to do just that. He chases the Joker down, intent to kill, and jumps onto the helicopter the Joker is using to escape. One of the guys fires at Batman. It shoots the pilot, hits the Joker in damn near his heart, if not his heart, and Batman realizes the helicopter is going down and decides to jump and leave the Joker behind. He intends for the Joker to die in the crash.
Okay? Bruce was 100% going to kill the Joker for killing Jason. Superman said "hang on. Let him get enough rope to hang himself first and then you can do it." And then Joker only survived because comic books. And Bruce is unhappy about having to wait. Superman did not try to talk Bruce out of killing the Joker at all ever, or scold him for wanting to kill the Joker. (Don't say he was rescuing the Joker in that last panel. The next panel is Superman fishing Batman, who is shot in the arm, from the harbor, and Batman telling Superman to go find the body. Find the body! And Superman does go to do just that, but is unable to).
Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.
what up, I’m mae, I’m 19 and I never fucking learned how to read | SHE/HER | AO3 FANATIChttps://maeswriting.carrd.co
436 posts