Almost all of it. The power loss is new but otherwise it's not as much of a shock to me as it has been for others.
[ running water hitting glass, and the soft clunk of metal on metal. ]
The situation itself is outside of my usual remit. I don't tend to work on a human level - guns and abductions and political intrigue aren't my usual wheelhouse.
[ but the general skills have proven largely transferable. ]
People don't like to know there are otherworldly entities waiting just out of their observable surroundings to cross into their dimension and destroy reality as they know it. We tend to keep a low profile and leave the hero duties to the heroes.
[ there are two cups on the countertop. the bubbling is getting gradually more aggressive.
[ Kate. it's been a while since he's been in contact - it's a good reminder. easy to let people drop off the map sometimes, especially when they're adjacent to your universe but not represented in it. ]
No, ours neither. That's what myself and the other Masters are for. You have people responsible for that where you come from?
[ dealing with those impolite extra-dimensional intruders? being aware that they exist ought to imply some knowledge of how they're combated. ]
He's not... wrong. Zatanna, Constantine, Klarion and the rest were so painfully inept it nearly got them all killed. Damian tips his head back. ]
Well, they rarely keep things in check. [ plus ] Then there's the Gods, the scientific tampering between dimensions, the egotistical magic users that continually play with life and death.
it makes itself evident in a long, disgusted pause and then a slight raise of the volume of noise as he yanks the tea infusion out of its jar and stuffs it into a teapot. ]
Sounds like a blast.
[ what are these chumps doing!! Stephen nonchalantly threw Loki to Norway, scientific dimensional tampering has had a close eye kept and magic users are either on their books or off them and closely monitored/dealt with if they start causing trouble. none of these things should be problems. ugh. ]
Their carelessness let interlopers from another dimension in. That's what screwed us in the end. [ He's biased. ] Sounds like you might actually have a handle on it.
[ it's like nails down a chalkboard hearing about this. but then comes sounds like you might actually have a handle on it and - yes. most of the time.
that's not territory he needs to wander into right now. ]
We do.
[ the kettle's finished boiling and the water goes into the teapot goes onto the tray with the cups comes into the lounge. tray set down, Stephen slumps into a seat with more weight and less control than he might usually. is this what the sulk of a forty-something year old man looks like when he's forced to acknowledge that there are people in his field who are bad at their jobs to devastating effect and he'll never be ale to yell at them, let alone have them sued for gross negligence?
[ It'd be funny, if it wasn't because his world is a disaster. He sits up a little to take a cup to pour himself some tea, giving Stephen his time to sulk and contemplate the existential stupidity of alternate worlds. ]
[ Pulling back and putting both hands up, jeez fine. ]
If it makes you feel better, most of what happened was my old man's fault. [ Except maybe not, because Bruce isn't the least bit magical. ] He does that.
It doesn't. [ if he was a sorcerer, he should've done better. if he wasn't, that doesn't excuse the people with the ability to do so for their failure to put the world in order.
... but it is enough to alert Stephen to the fact that he's elsewhere and bring him back into focus. a lungful of air floods into his cheeks for a second then goes released in a heavy gust. okay. over it, he's over it. moving on.] Sorry.
[ Damian looks up. There's really no end to the bullshit that is his father in his eyes. ]
He spends most of his free time looking at the people around him to figure out their weaknesses, so he can strike those and force them to do what he wants. He shackled me to the floor of a windowless room and left me there for months, telling me he'd let me out if I'd fall back into line. I was fifteen.
[ at first, asshole seems like a good summary but the man still sounds like any old businessperson, exploitation being such a global industry. but then comes what follows, and any look of friendly agreement falls.
obviously some things had to have happened for Hafid to be the young man that he is, but Stephen had never really guessed at them. put it down to the life and times of a superhero made too young. which— yes, that's almost definitely part of it. helped along in no small part by a history of abuse and related trauma.
finally, after a few seconds of strained silence, a conclusion. ]
Asshole.
[ all the first thoughts (should've been reported to child services, did anyone call the cops) are too soft for this world of Hafid's, and absolutely no use to him now. so. asshole.
what he wouldn't give for a free trip to whatever fucking place Hafid was dragged in from. it needs some damn work. ]
[ There's always that satisfaction when someone agrees. When someone isn't blind to the glory of the Batman, and can see his failings for what they are. ]
My mother raised me to think for myself, despite all her other failings, and he never appreciated that trait.
Just as well she did. [ for all it regularly gets him into hot water, his capacity for independent thought is invaluable. it's also what makes him adaptable. and what gives him the ability to know an asshole when he's fathered by one.
speaking of hot water, the two full minutes might not quite be up but there has never been a more apt time for tea. Stephen gets up and crosses to pour, his own first to make sure Hafid's gets the longest possible brew time, and when they're both poured he sits himself down next to him on the couch rather than retreating back across the room. ]
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[ running water hitting glass, and the soft clunk of metal on metal. ]
The situation itself is outside of my usual remit. I don't tend to work on a human level - guns and abductions and political intrigue aren't my usual wheelhouse.
[ but the general skills have proven largely transferable. ]
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Heroes need to politicize eventually.
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Here, sure.
[ not so much at home where his work is only tangentially related to world affairs, but he can agree on this score.
ah, hark. bubbling water. ]
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[ Tilting his head back to see what he's even doing. ]
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[ there are two cups on the countertop. the bubbling is getting gradually more aggressive.
this time, there shall be tea. ]
I assume you've heard of the Avengers by now.
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but he won't. he will (reluctantly) get a little more comfortable. ]
Kate's mentioned them. [ "Kate" not "Bishop". ] Though I can't say the "entities" in my world share your sentiments on keeping their distance.
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No, ours neither. That's what myself and the other Masters are for. You have people responsible for that where you come from?
[ dealing with those impolite extra-dimensional intruders? being aware that they exist ought to imply some knowledge of how they're combated. ]
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[ And then they break the people who can actually keep the balance. ]
They leave most of the handling to the rest of us.
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There are people whose job it is to maintain the balance between your dimension and the rest and they just let things through?
[ incompetence!!! is not!! cute!!! ]
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He's not... wrong. Zatanna, Constantine, Klarion and the rest were so painfully inept it nearly got them all killed. Damian tips his head back. ]
Well, they rarely keep things in check. [ plus ] Then there's the Gods, the scientific tampering between dimensions, the egotistical magic users that continually play with life and death.
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mad about it
it makes itself evident in a long, disgusted pause and then a slight raise of the volume of noise as he yanks the tea infusion out of its jar and stuffs it into a teapot. ]
Sounds like a blast.
[ what are these chumps doing!! Stephen nonchalantly threw Loki to Norway, scientific dimensional tampering has had a close eye kept and magic users are either on their books or off them and closely monitored/dealt with if they start causing trouble. none of these things should be problems. ugh. ]
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But he's Doctor Fate and he's useless. ]
Their carelessness let interlopers from another dimension in. That's what screwed us in the end. [ He's biased. ] Sounds like you might actually have a handle on it.
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that's not territory he needs to wander into right now. ]
We do.
[ the kettle's finished boiling and the water goes into the teapot goes onto the tray with the cups comes into the lounge. tray set down, Stephen slumps into a seat with more weight and less control than he might usually. is this what the sulk of a forty-something year old man looks like when he's forced to acknowledge that there are people in his field who are bad at their jobs to devastating effect and he'll never be ale to yell at them, let alone have them sued for gross negligence?
judging by his expression, yes. ]
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[ spoken from within the rage bubble, expression not changing in the least, barely even glancing his way. instinctive reaction to poor tea habits.
don't fuck up the tea, hafid. we've come this far. ]
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If it makes you feel better, most of what happened was my old man's fault. [ Except maybe not, because Bruce isn't the least bit magical. ] He does that.
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... but it is enough to alert Stephen to the fact that he's elsewhere and bring him back into focus. a lungful of air floods into his cheeks for a second then goes released in a heavy gust. okay. over it, he's over it. moving on.] Sorry.
The tea'll only need a couple of minutes.
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... is this next line of questioning likely to bite him in the ass? sure. but there's an opening and the man's come up twice already today, so. ]
You don't seem to be the biggest fan of your father.
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[ It's not a dangerous topic, at least. His hatred for his father runs deeper than anything else. ]
He's an asshole.
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Okay.
[ "okay" and silence, the universal one word prompt to elaborate without pushing too hard. ]
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He spends most of his free time looking at the people around him to figure out their weaknesses, so he can strike those and force them to do what he wants. He shackled me to the floor of a windowless room and left me there for months, telling me he'd let me out if I'd fall back into line. I was fifteen.
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obviously some things had to have happened for Hafid to be the young man that he is, but Stephen had never really guessed at them. put it down to the life and times of a superhero made too young. which— yes, that's almost definitely part of it. helped along in no small part by a history of abuse and related trauma.
finally, after a few seconds of strained silence, a conclusion. ]
Asshole.
[ all the first thoughts (should've been reported to child services, did anyone call the cops) are too soft for this world of Hafid's, and absolutely no use to him now. so. asshole.
what he wouldn't give for a free trip to whatever fucking place Hafid was dragged in from. it needs some damn work. ]
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My mother raised me to think for myself, despite all her other failings, and he never appreciated that trait.
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speaking of hot water, the two full minutes might not quite be up but there has never been a more apt time for tea. Stephen gets up and crosses to pour, his own first to make sure Hafid's gets the longest possible brew time, and when they're both poured he sits himself down next to him on the couch rather than retreating back across the room. ]
Sounds like quite a childhood.
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