Devil's Consultancy 44

Nygma, as he was not nearly as smart as he thought he was, took one of the options that Rhine put in front of him, instead of finding some clever third way around their threat. 

Instead of calling Rhine’s bluff, inviting violence upon himself in return for keeping his leverage… “I am bested in the arena of rhymes.” He said, which gave Rhine enough power to teleport away all remaining orchestra members, when combined with yet more of the energy created via Batman’s progress. The important part of the battle was done, now it was just a matter of securing the villains. “Instead, we shall duel in another battle of wits.” He said, confident enough that Rhine was pretty sure that his ‘evil plan’ was back on the tracks. “A simple game: Japanese checkers, also known as Go!”

Okay, calling Go ‘Japanese checkers’ was, while they could see where he’s coming from, was reductive to the point of deception. Fortunately, they’re quite familiar with the game. “If you seek to trounce a novice’s play, your plan will fail and you’ll surely pay.” Rhine said, accepting the challenge. “The stakes are clear: today from me you’ll not fear, if you win this game. If I win, your soul is my claim.” The stakes were incredibly unbalanced, but that tended to happen when you challenge someone to a board game so they won’t kill you. Or at least lightly maim you. 

“Perfect!” He said, and the magic he was using shoved Rhine away, and a series of lines on the floor, now glowing ominously, denoted the Go board. With a quick count, Rhine confirmed that the number of lines was correct. “You may go first.” He allowed, which was his second mistake. His first mistake was not giving himself a handicap. 

Immediately, Rhine gestured, and a silver stone materialized and fell onto the space they wanted it to, one of the hoshi points. Unsurprised at the play, despite it being in a spot that is a traditional first move, Nygma gestured as well and a green stone landed on another corner’s sanzan point. Interesting… more conservative than they expected… 

To the man’s credit, he had probably studied Go extensively to prepare for this contingency, but after the first few moves, he frowned as he realized that he was not facing a novice at all. Rhine placed their stones with absolute confidence, clearly plotting far enough ahead that they took less than a second to make their plays. Nygma wasn’t much slower, but that was probably because he cared more about winning, and was second-guessing his moves more as a result. 

Developing their enclosures, Rhine patiently waited for The Riddler to approach their positions, and initiated typical local sequences once he did. It was when they started to fight over the middle spaces that Batman dragged The Joker into the room, noting the distinct lack of living hostages. Peering down at the two dead ones, he growled. “Riddler.”

“The Joker did that, not me!” Nygma immediately protested. “Now I’ve almost won, give me a second!”

The game was frightfully even, to be honest, but Nygma was correct: he was winning by the thinnest of margins, typical of high end Go matches. They could maybe turn it around… but it’s not like Batman would approve if they won the man’s soul in a game, so Rhine lost gracefully by playing purely conventional moves that Nygma was able to close out without losing his small lead. 

“Ah ha!” He crowed, as the last stone was placed. “I’ve won!”

“What were the stakes?” Batman asked. 

“I can no longer harm or impede him.” Rhine explained, “For the day, I’m helpless to his whim.” Dramatically, they fell down, stumbling backwards a step to fall into the empty scuba diving instructional pool. 

A meaty thwack resounded as Batman knocked Nygma out with a single punch, and Rhine caught themselves in mid-air, taking out a high definition camera to document the crime scene. After the pictures were taken, a burst of magic defaced the magic circles, ruining anyone’s ability to copy them without the images they just took. They’ll figure out what they do later. 

Flying back up, Rhine stabbed The Joker a few times with the meriscorde, noting that it wasn’t quite enough to rip away his ghosts on its own, and an exertion of magic through the knife only managed to pry away a small fraction of them. 

Ugh, this’ll take weeks to get them all… and something tells them that Arkham wouldn’t exactly be accommodating when the request is to let them stab the clown. 

…They’ll see if Professor Blood can iterate upon the meriscorde with a bit more funding, give it a bit more magical heft. 

-----------------------

“What the hell is this shit?” Tanya asked, incredulous. Idly, she ate from the charcuterie board that Alfred had given them for snacks. 

“I like it!” Jason said, defensive. “It made me feel better about my shitty family.”

“Those people cannot be real.” Tanya said, “I mean, how do you have children with five different women? It’s not that hard to keep it in your pants!”

“Oprah’s show is a bit more optimistic, less focused on screwed up families.” Jason offered, “But she’s only on syndication now, her last show was earlier this year.”

Hm. She does remember hearing about that… “Have you seen the one we were on?” Tanya asked, curious. 

“Yeah.” Jason said, a little uncomfortable. “It’s, like, your only real television appearance when you were still a baby… pretending to be a baby?” He paused. “How did that work, anyway?”

The appearance was shortly after Mother kidnapped her for the first time, with Selina. It was the first major event where Selina was read into the deception, and you could tell, if you paid attention to her reactions to Tanya’s antics. “I was mostly pretending.” Tanya said, “I was a little scatterbrained for real, but that didn’t matter much.” Part of the fake story included relatively frequent cognitive tests, and Bruce wanted her to take them for real before she faked them. When comparing results between the first test, shortly after Bruce found her, and a test taken while assessing the condition of her second life’s body, there were notable differences, akin to a low level of intoxication. “My brain isn’t purely cosmetic, despite the continuity of identity. The smaller size of it mostly manifested in needing more rest than standard.” Not just naps, but also simply finding a lot more pleasure in activities that needed low mental effort. “All of that pretty much stopped when I turned four, though.” At least, the cognitive tests between her child, teenage, and demon forms seemed to even out. She never took one with her first life’s body. 

“I didn’t suspect a thing.” Jason said seriously, “My brain can’t even picture it anymore.”

Tanya chuckled, then smirked. “Oh? But…” She softened her expression, unfocusing her eyes, and shifted on the couch to lay backwards on Jason’s lap. She shifted her legs into clumsy angles, stared right into his eyes, and giggled while reaching out to touch his face. “-I wuv you, onii-chan…” She said teasingly.

Jason’s eyes widened as he shoved her off his lap, backing up and falling over the couch. Tanya brought on the water works, crying in a whiny, noisy manner after she hit the ground head-first. It was on a rug, though, so she was fine. “That was freaky!” Jason said after he stood up, before his face twisted in concern. “Aw, come on, don’t cry…” 

Tanya couldn’t resist any more and her fake sobs turned into a cackling laughter. Wiping her eyes, she sat up. “There’s a lot of little stuff you have to do to really sell it, but it’s really not that hard to do for short times.” The tricky part was keeping it up. She managed it for hours at a time, but she’d probably have gone insane if she did it without Bruce, Alfred, and eventually others as confidantes to allow her to break character. 

Jason offered his hand and she took it, allowing him to pull her up to her feet. “You think of going to Hollywood with those skills?” He asked, seemingly a genuine question. 

“Considered it.” Tanya replied honestly, using a quick bit of magic to remove the evidence of tears. “I’ll need to eventually start adopting more mature hobbies, and the stage does hold enough of an appeal that I’ll probably dabble a bit.” She hummed, looking Jason up and down. “You’d probably make a good lead, although whether that’s as a protagonist or antagonist would depend on the story…”

Jason looked thoughtful. “Hey, I have some books that I’d love to see turned into a movie, do you think…”

“We have the money for it.” Tanya said, “I looked into it, you could make a decent film with only seven figures, less if you’re skilled at the craft and use primarily profit sharing to pay everyone involved. That doesn’t describe us, though, so we’ll just have to pay the millions.”

“It’s still weird to hear the word million tossed around so casually.” Jason said. 

“Do I need to order another money bed?” Tanya asked. Bruce doesn’t let her keep them for long, they get dirty and it’s easier to deposit them into the bank than it is to clean them. “I’ll do it.”

“No, no, don’t.” Jason said, chuckling. “Being Robin is amazing, though. Even with all the weirdness.”

“Wanting to spend your nights beating up criminals instead of being comfortable in bed is weird.” Tanya retorted, “But the freedom to choose your path in life is one of the only things I hold sacred, so I won’t stop you. Only insist that you follow that path with proper preparation and caution.” It was also partly her fault for using mythical reinforcement… 

Jason seemed surprised. “Bruce said to avoid using words like sacred around you…” 

“He did?” Tanya asked, surprised and touched. “How thoughtful.”

“Yeah, he was kind of vague on why, though…” Jason said, “Except that it doesn’t burn you or anything.”

Tanya’s lips went into a line as she debated what exactly to say. “...I call him Being X, because when I first died, I refused to believe that he was actually God.”

“So you did meet God…” Jason said, awed. 

“Not the one for this universe.” Tanya clarified, “Near as I can tell, the local one’s a step up, for he provides mortals weapons and defenses against demonkind.” Which, given the information she has access to on historical actions taken by demons, was an unambiguous good. 

“Oh.” Jason said, his awe melting into disappointment. “I guess that’s cool.” He said, settling back down on the couch. “Commercials are over, sit back down.” 

Tanya settled onto the couch. Daytime TV was weird, but she wanted to get to know her new big brother better, so she watched it. 

-----------------------

Fawcett City was, as noted before, one of the outlying cities nearby Pittsburg. It was founded in the 1950s, and the art deco architecture reflected this, much like Gotham’s founding during the Gothic revival of the 19th century influenced its primary aesthetic, even down to the city’s name. Also much like Gotham, the city had a tendency to cling to that aesthetic instead of updating it with the times, which gave it a retro look that gave the city a small amount of tourism, with plenty of diners and similar businesses clinging to the theme. 

Tanya was a little unsure on the best way to approach Captain Marvel, as while calling him reclusive isn’t quite correct, he did avoid the Justice League when members appeared. The Flash managed to get in contact, but Wally wasn’t able to get him to talk about his situation out of costume: according to Wally, the man was quite adept at changing the subject and avoiding uncomfortable topics. 

She kind of disagreed, from her own experience, but he was rather quick to spot manipulation, so maybe he was just better at it when he had his guard up. 

In the end, she decided to visit the city for as long as she can manage in one day, then do so on three different days in different forms. First, she took to the skies in demon form, trying to sense whatever magical wellspring Captain Marvel’s benefactor was likely using to empower him. Rhine couldn’t find it. Oddly, even divinations failed, and in a way that caused Rhine to suspect active occlusion on the part of that benefactor. 

What was interesting, though, was what their refined magical sense could get from SivMana’s headquarters. It stank of soul manipulation, and Rhine seriously suspected some substantial foul play in the practices therein. Was Dr. Thaddeus Sivana the man behind Captain Marvel? It sounded like something the aged scientist would do: he was as arrogant as Lex Luthor, but he always struck Rhine as a bit more sadistic about it: Luthor wants power, yes, but he also wants adulation, making people not called Superman suffer was only done when it benefited him, although this did extend to dealing with potential threats instead of actual threats: His vendetta against Superman was all about that. 

Sivana, on the other hand, was more reclusive, he tended to avoid the spotlight. What few opportunities Rhine had to examine the man, usually in their role as CEO of ArcWayne, was that the part where trampling over others to achieve success was less a natural consequence of his rise, but instead a bonus that he got for seeking it. 

Needless to say, if the inquiries into his culpability over the Dr. Batson murders had ever progressed to a trial, then his lawyer would have a beast of a time making the man look innocent to a jury. 

“Hey.” Captain Marvel said as Rhine lingered near the SivMana based. “Are you supposed to be here?” He asked, crossing his arms. 

Ah, they were caught. “Nefarious deeds I caught a whiff, the stench of foul magics is what I sniff.” They said, tapping where a nose would be if they had a face. 

“What are you even doing here?” He asked firmly. 

“Your benefactor, the wizard friend.” Rhine explained. His slip towards that man’s existence was small, but key was his confusion as to the manifold titles for practitioners, so they know that’s the one used by their quarry. “An invitation I’d like to extend. If he’s as noble as you claim, then the League would in him find no shame.”

Captain Marvel never had any issues decrypting their rhymes, but the meaning of their words seemed to have given him pause. “Wait, you want to invite the Wizard instead of me? Why?” He whined. 

“Introductions would be required, naturally.” Rhine clarified, “I cannot admit members unilaterally.”

The Captain frowned. “He’s not gonna be interested.” He said, “He’s retired from hero-ing.”

Oho? “The more you speak, the more I seek; someone with wisdom to set down the cape? Now that sounds like a man I’d not let escape.”

“Hey, did you just call Batman and Superman stupid?” He asked, scandalized. 

“Each of them fools, breakers of rules.” Rhine replied, “Superman, perhaps, is one I’ll call wise, but Batman’s a seeker of his final prize.” If you looked at things from Clark’s point of view, becoming Superman was a lot more reasonable than it would be if he wasn’t constantly witnessing crime after crime. To him, plucking falling objects out of the sky and taking time to talk with roof jumpers was genuinely him just being neighborly. It was easy for him, and the problem might as well be right in front of him…

“Take that back!” Captain Marvel shouted, offended on Bruce’s behalf. 

“Only when he starts trying to survive!” Rhine shot back, “Who do you think has to keep him alive?” It was a bit of an exaggeration, but saving someone’s life only needed to happen once before it was a big deal. 

“Batman is amazing!” Captain Marvel retorted, “He doesn’t let things being hard get him down! He just keeps coming at it and never gives up!” That is what the propaganda cartoon says about him, yes… While also implying that he’s an incredibly skilled torturer. You’d be surprised what kind of stuff you can get away with on a children’s show. 

“Do not praise his stubborn pride, he gets enough men on his side.” Rhine huffed. 

Captain Marvel scowled. “I know you can turn human and talk normal!” He said petulantly. “Come on, I hate floating around near this place.” He floated down towards a nearby park. It had lots of children playing, so it didn’t seem like a particularly good place to do so. 

Wordlessly, Rhine flew off and landed on top of the water tower, a much more secluded location. Captain Marvel followed. After turning into her young adult form, wearing the Rhine suit, Tanya cleared her throat. “What I said before still applies, Captain. One of the services the Justice League provides is handling the processing for immigrants, no matter where they’re from. If you don’t have a legal identity, we can provide you one, but you have to work with us here.”

The Captain seemed confused, but connected the dots soon enough. “Wait. You think- Then what-”

Ah. “So you aren’t a dimensional refugee?” Tanya asked. “I came from another dimension myself, so I know how confusing it can be.” Admittedly, she got lucky, so that was a bit of a stretch. 

“You did?” He asked, “Wow, that’s so cool!” His eyes were practically sparkling in awe. “But I’m not- wait, does the Rock of Eternity count as another dimension?”

Wait. She knows that place. “The Rock of Eternity?” Tanya asked, “Site of the Nephilim Accords, ending the Fourth Apocolypse War and ushering in the Fifth Age? That Rock of Eternity?” The Captain looked baffled at her outlining of the importance of that particular rock. It was actually three rocks, one from Hell, one from Earth, and one from Heaven. “Why am I not surprised?” Tanya muttered. The Captain tended to get confused whenever she tried to speculate on his magic during the original meeting as well. “So you’re from there?”

“...Yes.” Captain Marvel lied. “Yes I am.” 

“I’ve seen gradeschoolers with better poker faces, Captain.” Tanya deadpanned. “Even Robin could lie better than that, and I knew him for a year before I saw him have a thought that didn’t immediately come out of his mouth.” An exaggeration, of course, but she had a solemn duty to give him a hard time. 

“So what?” Captain Marvel half-shouted. “Why do you need to know who I am to join the Justice League?”

“Several reasons.” Tanya said, which is exactly what she said before. “First, you don’t need to join the Justice League. We’re not some corrupt union, monopolistically insisting that you hero for us or not at all. This is more of a…” Professional association? PMC? Militia? Nothing seemed to fit… “-cool kid’s club, where the most impactful part of being a member is that you get to say you’re a member.” While there was a lot that the Justice League did for Earth, from the perspective of the member superheroes, that’s a lot of what it is. “As I said before, it’s not like you get paid. Sorry if that burst your bubble.”

“I have never wanted to be in the Justice League more than now.” Captain Marvel said, stars in his eyes. Then he seemed to come back to reality, and frowned. “Wait, why aren’t you a member if that’s all it is?” he asked. 

Tanya coughed. “Well, being a full member obligates you to certain commitments.” Tanya said, “You donate at least twenty hours of time per week to be assigned to handle things like disasters, reinforcing Titan’s initiative branches in emergencies, or just grunt work, shifts on call, PR events, things of that nature. Even Superman occasionally is tasked with lifting something heavy while the technicians work on it.” She gestured to Fawcett. “People who want to stay in their hometown, keeping it safe over bigger problems that are far away, don’t join the Justice League.”

“But don’t you do that anyway?” Captain Marvel asked.

“If I was a member, I would be at the mercy of whichever person was currently in charge of assigning duties. Instead, I can assist Batman and the League only in ways I desire.” Tanya chuckled. “One of the realities of organizations with duties is that there will always be things that need doing that no one wants to do. Unpleasant things. I’d rather stick to paperwork and HR meetings, if it’s all the same.” 

Captain Marvel was not fooled by her deflection. “What about that other membership you told me about?” he asked, “The associate member thing?”

“I don’t need it.” Tanya said, waving him off. “I already work for Batman, and I don’t consider myself a superhero anyway.” Unless she’s wearing the Witch Girl outfit. 

The man frowned. “...You’re pretty heroic from where I’m standing.” He said softly. “I’ve been being a real jerk about this, and you haven’t gotten mad once.” What? 

“You don’t want to share your identity.” Tanya corrected, “A position I can sympathize with. One of the main things that the Justice League does, perhaps its most important duty, is to be someone who can hold heroes accountable for their actions. We’re the only ones who can, in a lot of cases. Knowing who’s behind the mask is part of that.”

“You know, I asked the Flash if he had to tell you who he was.” Captain Marvel said, “He said he didn’t have to.”

“By that he meant we already knew. Batman knew who he was for longer than I’ve been on Earth.” Tanya said, “Cards on the table, Captain: I only ask because I couldn’t find you. Facial recognition is shot, your wizard friend is keeping magical divination and most kinds of electronic surveillance off of you, you never buy anything, the only thing left to do is to outright stalk you.”

“Hey!” Captain Marvel said, offended. “That’s illegal!”

“Vigilantism is illegal, Captain.” Tanya said bluntly. “Being a superhero is illegal. That’s the point! You’re flouting the rule of law to do what your moral compass tells you to do. Who can stop you? The police? No. Only the other superheroes stand a chance against someone with your abilities, Captain. That is why it matters. This isn’t a game.”

Captain Marvel, in another example of his mood swinging back and forth on a dime, looked like he was about to cry from that lecture. “I-I just want to help!” He said, the beginning of tears forming in his eyes. 

“You can.” Tanya said gently. “At this point, I think I’ve got an idea on why you’re being so tight-lipped. You think that, if we knew the truth, that we’d reject you.”

“You would.” Captain Marvel spat, rubbing at his eyes. 

“I know what that’s like.” Tanya said calmly. “It’s a terrible feeling.”

“So you’re saying I should just let it out?” Captain Marvel asked sarcastically. 

Tanya barked out a laugh. “No. I said I understood what it’s like, didn’t I?” Captain Marvel huffed in a half-laugh at her joke. “I’m a demon, remember? While I absolutely got sent to hell for reasons other than merit, that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t have been condemned if I was put before whatever the normal process is in this universe.”

Captain Marvel once again looked a bit lost. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve killed… a lot of people.” Tanya admitted, “They were in another universe, true, and it was during a war, every single one in full compliance with the laws of war… But that doesn’t mean there weren’t a few that could be considered… gratuitous. Unnecessary. Merciless. A small fraction of them, yes, but you could still fill a mass grave or two with them.” Tanya scoffed. “Do you think Batman knows about that?”

“...Yes?” Captain Marvel guessed. 

“He assumes.” Tanya clarified, “He knows that I’ve killed, he knows that I’ve killed a lot. But he doesn’t have… numbers. Details.” She explained, “It’s all still abstract to him, vague. If I had my way, I’d never have told him as much as I have!” Tanya paused, collecting herself. “Batman’s a bleeding heart. The fact that I regret my actions is enough for him to forgive me anything and everything. But that doesn’t mean I want to talk about it.” She stared at the hero, expression flat. “So yes, I know what it’s like to know that the truth will only condemn you.”

“So you’ll let me join?” He asked, hopeful. 

“Not without knowing who you are.” Tanya said immediately. “The rules are still the rules, and while the metaphorical ‘no kids allowed’ sign on the clubhouse door is more of an excuse to insist on learning that rather than an actual restriction, as there are many underage heroes who, despite not being official members, are still basically so,” Herself included, “-that doesn’t mean it is not followed.”

Captain Marvel growled in frustration. “...Good talk.” He said sullenly, before zooming off. 

Hm. Well, that went poorly.