Well, that's probably going to get an "interesting" reaction from the Guardians. Also, out of curiosity, is there a source material basis for the Sinestro-in-a-ring or is it something Zoat came up with for this fic? Because seriously, SInestro Ring is amazingly amusing in its dialogue and a great idea.
With This Ring (Young Justice SI) (Thread Twelve)
- Thread starter Mr Zoat
- Start date
- Status
Well, that's probably going to get an "interesting" reaction from the Guardians. Also, out of curiosity, is there a source material basis for the Sinestro-in-a-ring or is it something Zoat came up with for this fic? Because seriously, SInestro Ring is amazingly amusing in its dialogue and a great idea.
- Location
- Hampden Park
There was an Elseworlds story where Scott Free transferred his consciousness into Barda's power ring. And Guy did have to fight Sinestro's shade for his yellow ring just prior to the Crisis.
- Location
- Oblivion
Meta answer given the question switches to who knows that?
From what I recall the Ritual itself wasn't known by anyone on Earth which suggests the potential risks of improperly preforming or slightly changing it's runic design should be unknown to the general magical community.
Yeah and they spend so much time talking to people
- Location
- Caladan
You're not exactly acting on your own volition if you are ordered to do something at gunpoint, for instance, even if you can technically refuse.
The oath was first and foremost about following Wonder Woman's (and later Batman's) orders, so he doesn't really have a choice in the matter. He either does it or faces those very consequences, so it's obvious that if he goes off-system under their orders and those orders aren't suicidal per se he isn't acting on his own and the travel restriction does not apply.
And because the oath was worded that way to avoid suffering those consequences in case he was forced to go off-system, which is exactly what such a situation would be, he would have no reason to believe that the very act of going off-system is suicidal, so he would have no excuse to refuse those orders.
There's no catch 22. The precedence of the clauses of his oath is pretty clear even if it's not explicitly stated, simply by making the escape condition of one of them much weaker than the other.
- Location
Dude, you don't want to go this route in a comic book universe, because the rules of normal humanity do not apply in a world where single persons are extinction level events.
Where the Great Man theory has empirical evidence supporting it.
There's law, and then there's realpolitik.
The Green Lantern Corps can be (uncharitably) characterized as a group of interplanetary enforcers armed with WMDs, who only answer to an unelected racially based group of administrators and have no requirement to consult the locals about their decisions.
Who consider the League of Shadows to be a legitimate part of Earth's political structure.
Whose progenitors unilaterally decided to remove magic from almost all of the universe.
Note that besides the remove magic bit, that same description fits the Reach and it's Infiltrators.
Yes we know the GLC mean well, but by your metrics they have no authority for doing what they do.
And it's not like Grayven/RenPaul doesn't have legal backing for his deeds; the planet of Apokolips acknowledge him as suzerain of Earth.
Hell, Diana is the champion of the Greek Gods, who were...well. Greek Gods.
'nuff said.
Umm. . . @uju32 I'm not saying Zoat's Guardian's are Inviolate's Guardians but I doubt everyone here is willing to grant that the little blue men mean well. Othewise, I agree, reluctantly because I have the same bad hardwiring, but know well enough to rise above it.
Edit:clarity
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- Location
- Oblivion
Wasn't Grayven's Nabu on his last legs of Sanity due to orange light forced subservience?
Nope, he doesn't retain self. He's a font of knowledge and power with the bare minimum of cognition.
He can be given tasks and hold a slow and very scattered conversation; that's about it. No sanity or insanity involved.
If he's similar to the Morrow construct (and there's no reason he shouldn't be). There's nothing in story that's not basically him going "I hear and obey." in funky writing.
He can be given tasks and hold a slow and very scattered conversation; that's about it. No sanity or insanity involved.
If he's similar to the Morrow construct (and there's no reason he shouldn't be). There's nothing in story that's not basically him going "I hear and obey." in funky writing.
Pretty sure this is wrong.
Orange Constructs retain self and personality; their free will can just be overriden by the wielder of the ring that assimilated them.
We see this with Teekl, and with Blume, and with Fatty.
There is no suggestion that Renegade!Nabu is any different here.
I think Renegade!Nabu may be a special case, he seems a lot more screwed up than other Assimilated beings. Teekl still acts like a cat and Morrow sounded much more normal; even Blume sounded more normal than Nabu.
Maybe some kind of compatibility conflict between Order and Avarice, grinding him between them? There was that odd "Not alone never alone" comment of his...
EDIT: Found the actual line.
Maybe some kind of compatibility conflict between Order and Avarice, grinding him between them? There was that odd "Not alone never alone" comment of his...
EDIT: Found the actual line.
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Silverias
Seeing is Believing
- Location
- Squiddy Places
Remember, Lords are linked to the plane, they're...projections. Zoat has specifically said that Nabu HATES Grayven. Used the word hate.
I think the assimilation isn't going to stick, because he didn't assimilate the whole of Nabu...and I think it's gonna lead to some...backlash.
Speaing of...can Zatarra continue using Nabu? By all rights, every spell he casts is a tacit approval from the league of what Grayven did.
Not gonna lie, when I read Renegade!Nabu's shuffle caps text, all I can think of is Torgo.
Empiricist2
Let's play doctor!
- Location
- Baton Rouge
I don't think it's a compatibility conflict, as avarice and order aren't really mutually exclusive. After all, Grayven noted that he could only assimilate Nabu because he had opened himself up to the idea of want.
I think it might be Grayven assimilated Nabu's mind, but wasnt able to assimilate the energy being that he draws power from. So there would be an avarice construct mind that's drawing order based power through it, yielding the 'corrupted' ankhs and things that Lantern Nabu uses.
I'm thinking more "compatibility conflict" in the sense that Lords of Order are about complete attunement to Order and assimilation is about being subsumed by Avarice; so you are talking about two things that in this situation are supposed to be pretty much pure elements jostling together for influence over the same being.
Black Reign (part 2)
- Location
- Hampden Park
12th March 2011
09:26 GMT
Rob squints towards where John is setting up the ritual. "You sure this'll work in the middle of the day?"
I shrug. "I don't know. I've read up on magic but I'd hardly call myself an expert. If John says it's okay then it's probably okay."
John looks around. "It's harder, but it'll make it easier to send him on his way if he's not happy about being woken up. Trevor, you ready?"
Mister Marrack Senior is standing next to one of the standing stones, his hands pressed against it and his eyes closed as he reconnects it to the local geomantic energy systems. I don't really know enough to say whether geomantic energy 'should' be channelled or left to run where it will. I do know which is more useful to my allies, though.
He steps away, blinking heavily. "This was a damn sight quicker than applying to English Heritage." He looks over to me. "Any chance you could find time to do the rest as well?"
I shrug. "Sure. Do you have time to align them all?"
He waves his right hand in the direction of his son. "Rob can do that over the summer holidays."
Rob sighs. "Cheers, Dad."
"It'll be good practice for you."
"'Cause it's not like I had plans or anything."
"It'll help with your magic." Rob slumps slightly in a very teenagery way. "Anyway, yes. I'd like to leave it for a bit just to make sure, but it should be ready to go now. What happens if it's not quite..?"
John nods. "If it's not, it won't make anything go wrong. The summoning just won't work."
"Right. Well then." Mister Marrack walks back towards where I put the stuff he brought with him.
"John, are you about ready?"
"Ready as I'm going to get." He exhales. "You sure I can't have a quick fag?"
"Graham Marrack was very anti-smoking. Said it polluted the air and harmed the lungs. And I'm sure -as a man who nearly died of lung cancer- you can appreciate where he's coming from."
Rob's eyes widen. "You had lung cancer? Was it, like, a little bit of lung cancer-?"
"He smokes twenty a day, what do you-?"
"I cut down afterwards. Fifteen a day at most." He takes one out of his pocket and sniffs it. "No. I had the malignant, coughing-up-blood-and-lumps-of-growth type lung cancer."
"You know, I can remove your nicotine addiction if you want. The trick you used to heal yourself wouldn't work again."
"What did you do?"
John grins. "Well, I-."
"He sold his soul simultaneously to the three joint rulers of Hell then killed himself. They had the choice of either putting him back together or fighting to the death for his soul."
He rolls his eyes at me. "Oh, suck all the friggin' fun out of it, why don't you?"
"Fortunately for John, the rulers of Hell were really stupid and it didn't occur to them to, say, cut off his arms and legs or rewire his central nervous system to put him in perpetual agony. Or create a new Lukhavim especially to possess him after first making his body invulnerable so he got a front row seat at the horror it would unleash on the world in his name."
John stops smiling. "Was a bit."
"Um, Rob? How's.. your uncle getting on?"
He shrugs. "'bout as well as you could expect. I don't know how Batman got him out that quick but I'm bloody glad he did. We're looking after him for the moment."
I nod. "If there's anything I can do to help…"
Mister Marrack returns, very carefully carrying an old fashioned travel case with him. "This has got Granddad's old uniform in it. Given all the time he spent wearing it, it should have the strongest specific link out of anything I've got."
John doesn't look sure about that. "You wouldn't have a bit of bone or something, would you? It'd be a lot easier."
Mister Marrack shakes his head. "He was cremated. His ashes got spread near here, that was why I thought this place would be best to try reaching him." He reverentially places the case in the middle of John's diagram within the stone circle, undoes the clasps and then retreats back towards Rob and I. Once he reaches us, he turns back to John. "Alright, over to you then. What's next?"
"You're on battery duty. When he tries to animate his uniform, he won't be able to draw power like he did when he was alive. You'll need to provide it."
Mister Marrack looks a little uncomfortable. "Do I need-?"
"You can do it from out there."
He nods, looking a little relieved. I suppose he really hasn't had that much exposure to the exotic parts of the magic world. Or maybe he's just nervous about being in the presence of his patrician grandfather?
John starts walking a circle inside the ring of stones. "In this sacred space we call out to the spirit of our departed forebear, Graham Marrack. We humbly request that he hear us and come to us that he might share his wisdom."
Nothing appears to happen. John continues walking. "I say again, in this sacred space we call out to the spirit of our departed forebear, Graham Marrack. We humbly request that he hear us and come to us that he might share his wisdom." He keeps going until he completes a circuit. "No?" He waits for a moment. "Alright then."
He looks over to Rob and Mister Marrack. They nod -Mister Marrack wincing slightly- and walk to the closest two stones. They each then take out a small knife, make a small incision on the palm of their left hands and press them against the stone.
"In this sacred space we call out to the spirit of our departed forebear, Graham Marrack. We humbly request that he hear us and come to us that he might-" The air above the case starts to get very misty. I have the ring track the moisture and it's being dragged in fast enough to create an appreciable draft. "-share his wisdom."
The mist thickens into proper 'can't-see-your-hand-in-front-of-your-face stuff'. A moment more and I can see lightning crackling inside it. Rob starts looking a little pale, but he and his father both keep their hands on the stones. The mist then appears to contract, as if being sucked into the case while the uniform is drawn upwards. It looks a bit like a pre-World War One army uniform, with the addition of a St Piran's Flag emblazoned across the chest. As I watch, it moves to a more upright position with the water vapour filling it up and taking the form of the areas that would be uncovered: hands and head. The area around the apparition is still misty, but nothing like as intense, and the lightning appears to be restricting itself to the interior of the figure. At first the face is only roughly Human, but as I watch distinct features appear.
It seems that we've got our man.
It fixes its attention on John. "You, sir, reek of the devil-herb tobacco."
John rolls his eyes. "Haven't had one for hours."
"Hmm. I heard the call of my kinsmen's blood. This had best be important."
The living Marracks release their stones and slowly walk towards him, Trevor Marrack taking the lead. "Grandfather."
"Trevor." The apparition regards him for a moment. "Is that it? Is that as strong as you have become?"
"Yes. I've done my best with what Dad taught me-"
"Hhhh. That boy!"
"-but my son wants to know more than I can teach him. We called you up to ask if you'd be willing to tutor him instead."
"Step forward, great grandson." Rob obeys, meeting his great grandfather eyeball to crackly mistball. "Hm. We might yet make something of you. What's your name, boy?"
"Robert Marrack, sir."
"What day is this?"
"The twelfth of Mar-."
"What day?"
"Saturday, sir."
"You attend school?"
"Yes, sir."
"Very well. I should be able to maintain myself for a further eight hours. We will begin at once. I will expect to see you here early each Saturday and I will expect you to practise between our sessions. In return, I will offer you everything I learned in a lifetime of arcane study and combat. Do we have an understanding?"
"Yes, sir."
09:26 GMT
Rob squints towards where John is setting up the ritual. "You sure this'll work in the middle of the day?"
I shrug. "I don't know. I've read up on magic but I'd hardly call myself an expert. If John says it's okay then it's probably okay."
John looks around. "It's harder, but it'll make it easier to send him on his way if he's not happy about being woken up. Trevor, you ready?"
Mister Marrack Senior is standing next to one of the standing stones, his hands pressed against it and his eyes closed as he reconnects it to the local geomantic energy systems. I don't really know enough to say whether geomantic energy 'should' be channelled or left to run where it will. I do know which is more useful to my allies, though.
He steps away, blinking heavily. "This was a damn sight quicker than applying to English Heritage." He looks over to me. "Any chance you could find time to do the rest as well?"
I shrug. "Sure. Do you have time to align them all?"
He waves his right hand in the direction of his son. "Rob can do that over the summer holidays."
Rob sighs. "Cheers, Dad."
"It'll be good practice for you."
"'Cause it's not like I had plans or anything."
"It'll help with your magic." Rob slumps slightly in a very teenagery way. "Anyway, yes. I'd like to leave it for a bit just to make sure, but it should be ready to go now. What happens if it's not quite..?"
John nods. "If it's not, it won't make anything go wrong. The summoning just won't work."
"Right. Well then." Mister Marrack walks back towards where I put the stuff he brought with him.
"John, are you about ready?"
"Ready as I'm going to get." He exhales. "You sure I can't have a quick fag?"
"Graham Marrack was very anti-smoking. Said it polluted the air and harmed the lungs. And I'm sure -as a man who nearly died of lung cancer- you can appreciate where he's coming from."
Rob's eyes widen. "You had lung cancer? Was it, like, a little bit of lung cancer-?"
"He smokes twenty a day, what do you-?"
"I cut down afterwards. Fifteen a day at most." He takes one out of his pocket and sniffs it. "No. I had the malignant, coughing-up-blood-and-lumps-of-growth type lung cancer."
"You know, I can remove your nicotine addiction if you want. The trick you used to heal yourself wouldn't work again."
"What did you do?"
John grins. "Well, I-."
"He sold his soul simultaneously to the three joint rulers of Hell then killed himself. They had the choice of either putting him back together or fighting to the death for his soul."
He rolls his eyes at me. "Oh, suck all the friggin' fun out of it, why don't you?"
"Fortunately for John, the rulers of Hell were really stupid and it didn't occur to them to, say, cut off his arms and legs or rewire his central nervous system to put him in perpetual agony. Or create a new Lukhavim especially to possess him after first making his body invulnerable so he got a front row seat at the horror it would unleash on the world in his name."
John stops smiling. "Was a bit."
"Um, Rob? How's.. your uncle getting on?"
He shrugs. "'bout as well as you could expect. I don't know how Batman got him out that quick but I'm bloody glad he did. We're looking after him for the moment."
I nod. "If there's anything I can do to help…"
Mister Marrack returns, very carefully carrying an old fashioned travel case with him. "This has got Granddad's old uniform in it. Given all the time he spent wearing it, it should have the strongest specific link out of anything I've got."
John doesn't look sure about that. "You wouldn't have a bit of bone or something, would you? It'd be a lot easier."
Mister Marrack shakes his head. "He was cremated. His ashes got spread near here, that was why I thought this place would be best to try reaching him." He reverentially places the case in the middle of John's diagram within the stone circle, undoes the clasps and then retreats back towards Rob and I. Once he reaches us, he turns back to John. "Alright, over to you then. What's next?"
"You're on battery duty. When he tries to animate his uniform, he won't be able to draw power like he did when he was alive. You'll need to provide it."
Mister Marrack looks a little uncomfortable. "Do I need-?"
"You can do it from out there."
He nods, looking a little relieved. I suppose he really hasn't had that much exposure to the exotic parts of the magic world. Or maybe he's just nervous about being in the presence of his patrician grandfather?
John starts walking a circle inside the ring of stones. "In this sacred space we call out to the spirit of our departed forebear, Graham Marrack. We humbly request that he hear us and come to us that he might share his wisdom."
Nothing appears to happen. John continues walking. "I say again, in this sacred space we call out to the spirit of our departed forebear, Graham Marrack. We humbly request that he hear us and come to us that he might share his wisdom." He keeps going until he completes a circuit. "No?" He waits for a moment. "Alright then."
He looks over to Rob and Mister Marrack. They nod -Mister Marrack wincing slightly- and walk to the closest two stones. They each then take out a small knife, make a small incision on the palm of their left hands and press them against the stone.
"In this sacred space we call out to the spirit of our departed forebear, Graham Marrack. We humbly request that he hear us and come to us that he might-" The air above the case starts to get very misty. I have the ring track the moisture and it's being dragged in fast enough to create an appreciable draft. "-share his wisdom."
The mist thickens into proper 'can't-see-your-hand-in-front-of-your-face stuff'. A moment more and I can see lightning crackling inside it. Rob starts looking a little pale, but he and his father both keep their hands on the stones. The mist then appears to contract, as if being sucked into the case while the uniform is drawn upwards. It looks a bit like a pre-World War One army uniform, with the addition of a St Piran's Flag emblazoned across the chest. As I watch, it moves to a more upright position with the water vapour filling it up and taking the form of the areas that would be uncovered: hands and head. The area around the apparition is still misty, but nothing like as intense, and the lightning appears to be restricting itself to the interior of the figure. At first the face is only roughly Human, but as I watch distinct features appear.
It seems that we've got our man.
It fixes its attention on John. "You, sir, reek of the devil-herb tobacco."
John rolls his eyes. "Haven't had one for hours."
"Hmm. I heard the call of my kinsmen's blood. This had best be important."
The living Marracks release their stones and slowly walk towards him, Trevor Marrack taking the lead. "Grandfather."
"Trevor." The apparition regards him for a moment. "Is that it? Is that as strong as you have become?"
"Yes. I've done my best with what Dad taught me-"
"Hhhh. That boy!"
"-but my son wants to know more than I can teach him. We called you up to ask if you'd be willing to tutor him instead."
"Step forward, great grandson." Rob obeys, meeting his great grandfather eyeball to crackly mistball. "Hm. We might yet make something of you. What's your name, boy?"
"Robert Marrack, sir."
"What day is this?"
"The twelfth of Mar-."
"What day?"
"Saturday, sir."
"You attend school?"
"Yes, sir."
"Very well. I should be able to maintain myself for a further eight hours. We will begin at once. I will expect to see you here early each Saturday and I will expect you to practise between our sessions. In return, I will offer you everything I learned in a lifetime of arcane study and combat. Do we have an understanding?"
"Yes, sir."
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- Location
- Chile
Which is it?
Silverias
Seeing is Believing
- Location
- Squiddy Places
Watch it turn out to be on purpose.
I agree. I always liked characters who cut to the damn chase. No flowing language or attempts at diplomacy.
'The hell you want?' Then it's either 'fudge off', or 'hell, let's get this shite started.'
As of now, the oldest Cornwall Man is like Merlin with testes.
- Location
- madison
now that is a very horrific point. He's lucky they were too busy going for each other's throats to realize they could still make john wish he was dead while they figured something out.
- Location
- Hampden Park
Oops. Let me just bend time and space for a moment.
- Status