thearena | if you liked it then don't you dare put a ring on it

Entry tags:

if you liked it then don't you dare put a ring on it

WHO| Brainy and YOU. Open to all.
WHAT| Brainy being pissy as he prods around the gift shop
WHERE| Second Floor Gift Ship
WHEN| Thursday of Week 2, after he meets Lyle, before the electrical storm in the planetarium
WARNINGS| Brainy being his cranky self.

Brainiac 5 and Invisible Kid were Legionnaires and naturally they meant that were going to trust in each other's abilities enough to occasionally wander away separately. Still within frantic screaming distance, certainly, but separately.

Brainy was wandering through the gift shop right now, secure in the knowledge that if he screamed for help, Lyle would respond.

As he rooted through the assorted items there, he almost screamed anyway, and it wasn't because of fear.

Back home - back when they'd had a home - the Legion had been incredibly popular with the public, to the point the merchandising had gotten fairly out of control. They'd allowed any parties to create such merchandise so long as nothing harmful to the image of the Legion was declared as "official" in any way and as long as part of the proceeds were donated to charities. They'd been a little too busy fighting cosmic threats like Darkseid to care if someone was hawking a ten credit T-Shirt with their faces on it.

But one thing that every single one of the people creating the merchandise knew was that there was a single item they were not allowed to sell replicas of in any capacity, because of the meaning the real thing held to the members of the Legion.

Right now, Brainy was staring at a mass of them in several bins. Legion flight rings - cheap metal knock-offs, naturally, as he and Lyle's own Valorium rings had been confiscated and they'd been given replicas themselves. These were even cheaper and tackier.

He picked one up and stared at it with disdain.

It may have just been an object but it was one that had been on the hands of several Legionnaires as they'd died. James Cullen and Gim Allon had been buried with them. Candi's had been vaporized when she'd tried to reach out to Jan Arrah, after they'd discovered he was the genocidal enemy they'd been facing in the Second Galaxy. And Jan's had most likely rusted into dust as he'd floated alone in the void after getting the rest of them safely back inside the material universe, going insane as he'd watched stars blink into life and then blink out, as he'd died a death that wasn't a material one, and the being known as the Progenitor had been formed out of the shreds of who he'd once been.

He'd suffered that living death over billions of years for them. He'd been caught out alone in that endless darkness because of the L on his finger, because he'd given everything to save his friends.

Now that symbol was being sold three for an assi.

But then Brainy supposed it wasn't a surprise at all that these people had no respect for the sacred. Not when they'd been willing to sell the souls of children for even less.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Sandy had been lurking about trying to find more supplies, or someone for Pruna to kill. The gift shop invited her with it's big windows but as she peered inside she saw the boy and held back to study him.

The weight of the crowbar in her hand was little comfort that if things went badly she might stand a chance...maybe.

Brainy spotted her, his hand raising the modified laser pointer and then he stopped, pulling a face and giving her a skeptical look.

"It seems prudent to inform you that your crude bludgeon won't help you. If I wanted to kill you, you wouldn't be able to stop me."

It was suggested with absolute surety and there was a dangerous intensity in the gaze he gave her. The green skin wasn't the only thing that made him look alien. His eyes were sharp in a way that made it look as if he should be able to cut people down by just looking at them.

It was true, of course. A little girl with a crow bar wouldn't have stood a chance against him.

Which was exactly why he had to carefully suppress his expressions at the moment. His emotions weren't the placid, crystalline lake some might think they were. They were a river, sluggish at times and prone to burying things in the cold silt at the bottom, but capable of turning into rapids that could uproot trees and knock down bridges.

He had already known children had fought in the games before - and it was horrific - but children against adults were another thing entirely.

"For the record, I don't intend to kill you."

He wasn't overly fond of children. In many ways he didn't understand them. He hadn't ever played as a child himself (not that he'd been allowed any playmates his own age) and Coluans developed quickly naturally. He didn't know how to relate to them and generally found them highly irritating.

That still did nothing to stop the strange pangs of protective instinct he felt any time children fell under his protection - and they often did in situations involving civilian hostages because his shield powers made him a natural choice for ferrying them out of harm's way.

That's what he wanted to do now, grab this little girl, fling a shield around her, and rocket them out through the ceiling, but he wouldn't because he couldn't, and that meant that she was going to die - possibly for good.

Sandy wilted at how easily she'd been spotted. Every time she thought she was getting better at this stuff something like this would happen.

Lowering her crowbar she sighed "I've been in five arena's now and so far the only thing I've killed is a raptor. I probably couldn't kill you even if I wanted to...which I don't."

But now that that was out of the way she shuffled through the entranceway to have a look around, keeping an eye on Brainy of course.

Good girl. He didn't want to have to fight her.

"I'll admit to understanding why the Capitol has the Games but why they'd find children an entertaining choice for gladiatorial combat mystifies me. Especially when they're pitting you against adults."

It was sick.

"I don't think it's about entertainment." Sandy confessed coming around the corner and daring to inch closer to him so she wouldn't have to project her voice as much.

"I think it's a threat to the districts. We just got back from District 12 and...it was kind of depressing."

Only when she thought about it. The actual trip had been lovely but the time spent with Effie had given Sandy a stiff reminder of why the districts were so afraid of the Capitol.

As she inched closer, Brainy made sure not to make threatening movements - still keeping an eye on that crowbar all the while. Just because she was an innocent, it didn't mean she'd be nonviolent. She was in a dangerous situation and most likely felt threatened.

"I can't help but admire the elegance of it," said Brainy. "A threat to their children without enraging them by continuing to cause harm to their children."

It was a very creepy thing to say to a child, as if they were some sort of object, and that was exactly why he said it. But he didn't want her to be afraid and even amid his unpleasantness, he wanted to try to offer what little comfort he could.

"Of course, I'd imagine you're not really in a position to admire the artistry."

He gave her a look that was still just as cool and calculating but almost, maybe sympathetic.

Sandy gave him the driest look a preteen could muster.

"I know art is in the eye of the beholder." Because she'd heard that somewhere "But this? Is not art." At least she didn't want it to be. Art was cool. This was torture.

"And I thought elegance was for like...fancy dresses and stuffy parties." Effie liked elegant things.

My, that look she gave him was practically arid.

"Elegance also a word to describe the simplicity or grace of an action - it doesn't necessarily have to connote any beauty or moral decency."

He was pretending to be a bad guy, that didn't mean he had to act like a monster.

"I admire the...effectiveness of their tactics and the intelligence in what they do. Nothing more."

"Oh." Her face fell as so often with knowledge came some sadness.

"Right, because yeah it may be evil and horrible and soul crushing...but it's still really smart. They get done what they want with hardly any screw ups. The occasional bombing here. The network gets hacked there. Monsters escape from their labs...but look at them. Barely a scratch."

Injustice was apparently a subject that got her riled up.

"It's just not fair." She pouted in an appropriately childlike way.

"Seeing as it seems that no one has educated you on this fact: the universe is a capriciously hostile and inhospitable place where calamity and destruction are unending constants and everything you love can be destroyed in a day. That is to say: of course it's not fair."

Some of the bitterness in that statement was genuine, enough that it momentarily surprised Brainy. For a little while, he just stared at the fake Legion ring in his hand and the bins of them in front of him, his mind making a sudden strange connection. Images of similar rings on the hands of the Legionnaire Recruits - the ones that hadn't been with the main team during the end and thus had been lost - suddenly flashed at the forefront of his mind. For just a minute he could hear the echoes of their panicked voices over the comms as reality had folded and -

As dangerous as it was to close his eyes, he had to, pressing his fingertips against his eyelids.

Why had the Capitol made light of this of all things? Why couldn't they have left the rings alone?

Edited 2014-02-14 07:13 (UTC)

Barbara knew that the gift shop was a bad idea. After getting trapped on the rooftop, she’d learned her lesson about closed in spaces. Of course, this time, it was her standing between someone else and the exit. Funny how that didn’t make her feel any better about the sudden company.

Good going, Barbara; she’d come in to learn about the other tributes without actually talking to them. Was one day without worrying about knives to her face so much to ask?

Yes came to mind. She supposed she should cough or something? And watch out for weapons. Maybe this could be a friendly lack-of-stabbing experience.
Barbara knew that the gift shop was a bad idea. After getting trapped on the rooftop, she’d learned her lesson about closed in spaces. Of course, this time, it was her standing between someone else and the exit. Funny how that didn’t make her feel any better about the sudden company.

Good going, Barbara; she’d come in to learn about the other tributes without actually talking to them. Was one day without worrying about knives to her face so much to ask?

Yes came to mind. She supposed she should cough or something? And watch out for weapons. Maybe this could be a friendly lack-of-stabbing experience.

Another dry look. This guy really pushed her buttons.

"I know that! But that doesn't mean it shouldn't be fair! My dad used to tell me stories of people who gave everything they were to fight for fairness. Who stood up to people like the Capitol and protected everyone's rights and freedoms. Men and women, boys and girls. Some of them had amazing skills and powers! Others were just people who wanted to do the right thing."

After that little rant her shoulders slumped.

"The only people like that here all seem to get killed and go away."

"Of course they do. That's the problem with heroes: self-sacrifice, compassion, conviction - these are the qualities that occasionally overcome empires. Futile, of course, given that the cycle only continues anew and corruption eventually replaces corruption, but it's still bad luck for any of those in power who don't want to lose their power. They'll kill anyone they feel is a threat to the status quo."

Which was why he was hiding what he was.

"I suggest you don't attempt to follow in their footsteps, if you want any chance at surviving at all - or at least a chance of surviving longer. A quiet tongue and lack of altruistic intentions is a boon in a place like this."

Edited 2014-02-19 04:49 (UTC)

She wanted to ask what an altruistic intention was, but she figured the answer might just irritate her more.

"OK, well thanks for the advice on what not to do. Got any big words for how we can make things better other then giving up and doing what they want till they get bored of us?" Because while she had the revolutionary spirit Sandy was in no way a planner or a schemer. The extent of her abilities to plot seemed to come just short of preparing a surprise birthday party.

Advice for a child. What kind of advice did you give to a child? Especially one in a barbaric situation like this?

'Keep your chin up, sport, study hard, don't do drugs, and walk to the beat of your own drum'? He had no idea how talking to children worked.

All he had to fall back on was honesty. In all forms of social pioneering that he’d engaged in so far, it had been a faithful machete that had served him well, even if it had cut others almost as often as it had cleared the way.

"I have no advice for anyone else but I do have advice purely for you: leave it to the adults," he finally said. "Not that I plan to lift a finger against the Capitol but if anyone comes up with some magical plan to spirit everyone away from all this to safety, to our homes, leave it to them. You're not smart enough or clever enough to be able to do anything other than getting yourself killed, and that would only serve as a distraction to the people who might want to prevent it."

He added, "And I don't mean that as insult. You're a child. Even if you're a clever child, you're not as intelligent or clever as an intelligent or clever adult. You haven't had the experiences or education yet." When he spoke again it was with a certainty that could have only come from personal experience. "During some situations of helplessness and cruelty, sometimes it's a time to endure rather than to fight. That endurance isn't weakness or cowardice - it takes its own kind of strength."

Well that was...comforting? Was that the word?

Probably not. She didn't feel any better from his advice. Though she appreciated he at least took the effort to explain she wasn't stupid as far as kids go. Just not on the same level as adults.

"So if I just endure and you're not gonna lift a finger, who's gonna fix this mess? Dad always said if you want something done right you gotta do it yourself." A pause.

"Then again I doubt he ever figured I'd be in a place like this." Who could foresee that sort of crazy?

"Courageous idiots are ubiquitous in any setting, trust me. They spring up like Dryadian daisies in the face of injustice - they've foiled more than one of my plans in the past. Either someone will come along that's both altruistic enough and intelligent enough to help put a stop to all this, in which case you'll only benefit if you're still 0alive, or we're all doomed no matter what we do, in which case you'd be powerless to do anything to save yourself anyway."

He scratched his head, trying to figure out a way to make her understand without seeming too overtly fond of her because of his cover.

"I'll admit to the fact that I'm not overly fond of children but despite being part of a team of very bad people who do very bad things, I'm also not overly fond of seeing them harmed. We hurt people and have respect for those in places of power who are very talented at the same but we do have class. There are certain lines you don't cross - at least not for good reason."

He inhaled deeply through his nose.

"You, like every child, have promise. Don't waste it by trying to fix any of this yourself. Just be ready to act in all eventualities and be ready to accept your fate in the ones where it can't be changed, for your own emotional stability. That's your best chance. When you're as young as you are, there's no shame in being the one that's rescued rather than doing the rescuing."

That was probably the closest he'd gotten to the sort of inspirational speeches Sandy thrived on. She wasn't sure if that was sad or not.

She also seemed to understand what he meant about bad people doing bad things and offered a dark smile.

"I wish all villains were as reasonable as you and my dad then."

If her dad had been here she knew he'd have already gotten in too much trouble for trying to protect her. Probably punished harsher. Probably died alot.

That provoked a blink of surprise.

"At times, so do I," he said quietly. "Your father was a supervillain?"

He didn't even have to fake that the subject was of interest to him.

She rubbed her arm with a sudden twinge of anxiety but she opened this door so she might as well be honest about it.

"Formerly yeah. The Sandman. He could turn his body into different shapes, melting into sand and stuff. He'd rob banks and cause trouble and New York's greatest hero Spider-man would come and stop him. Eventually dad realized what he was doing was wrong and stopped, settled down and found my mom. But that wasn't good enough. The city came and took him away because even though he'd did his time for his crimes, super powers were against the law in New york."

She still remembered that day in a shadowy haze. They'd come for him in the early morning when they weren't expecting it.

What he said next was very stiff and not just because he was pretending to be a villain. This was a genuinely awkward subject for him, one he genuinely wanted to offer good will over without knowing how.

How could he when it was a subject that was the source of so much pain in the past?

"Was he a good father to you?"

That question was important to him. It was one that would tell him whether or not her father getting taken from her was a tragedy or the same blessing having his mother taken away had been for him.

There was no hesitation in her response.

"He was the best."

Memories drifted to the surface of her mind, fresh made French toast on cold dreary mornings. Splashing in puddles, having stories of heroes being told to her each night in bed.

She wondered if he'd be proud of everything she'd lived through till now.

"I...I did not have the good fortune of a supervillain parent that regarded her offspring any differently than her victims," he admitted slowly. "Yet in spite of that I was her favorite. Which was...hellish, is a good word for it."

But enough about his mother in specific.

"I suppose that was to be expected when villainy has been what you might call 'the family business' for the last five generations. I'm sure she didn't have something as advantageous as a caring parent during her upbringing either."

He drew himself up a little straighter. "Regardless, I...I can see the value of what your father was by virtue of not having had similar."

He inclined his head just slightly.

"Therefore, you have my condolences."

Edited 2014-02-28 08:53 (UTC)

Sandy listened and felt the weight settling in her gut as he explained his own connection to that sort of life.

"Thanks. I was lucky to have him for as long as I did." She nodded and took another deep breath letting it out.

"Mom didn't handle it so great when he left. I was basically on my own. Then I wound up here and well...clearly things can only get better."

"Unfortunately, you are probably going to die, most likely permanently," Brainy said bluntly. "Possibly horrifically."

That was a horrible thing to say to a child, of course, and even when pretending to be horrible he didn't have the heart to leave it there.

"That reality isn't the only possible reality, though. Take heart in the fact that those fools we talked about that try to change the cruel and inevitable do exist and sometimes they win."

He gave her a bitter smile.

"I'm not one of them and if anyone ever tries to change the circumstances we've found ourselves in, I sincerely doubt I'll be someone they try to save, but you might be. Don't do anything stupidly heroic - but try to be worth it. You shouldn't be ashamed the only thing you've killed is a nonsentient specimen of the family dromaeosauridae."

He turned to walk away, careful to look at her sidelong as he left to make sure she didn't try to crack him in the skull.

That was a very strange mix of comfort and painful honesty. She couldn't deny he was right, but his closing remarks gave her just a flicker of hope.

Maybe she could still get out of here with her soul in tact.

...

Or maybe she'll go crazy trying to hold onto that last sliver of who she was. Either way the odds were clearly not in her favor. She turned to leave the way she came. Time to get back to Pruna and a reality she understood. Pruna never said annoyingly complicated words like Dromaeosauridae.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

if you liked it then don't you dare put a ring on it

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Mind one of my famously late tags? (I've had this open for two weeks. 8U )

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject