@King crimson: Now that I think about it, how much progress would we need to make so creating Superboy and Galatea is even possible? I'm guessing getting Paul Westfield would help, if only for his genetics/biological knowledge.
Define "possible". Because theoretically just being able to clone a kryptonian would enable you to make your own assuming you were willing to wait for time to mature them.
If you are talking about what's necessary for them to exist as they generally do then it gets more complicated. Galatea requires cloning tech, knowledge of how to clone kryptonians, kryptonian DNA, a method of accelerating growth (either biologically or through temporal manipulation) and a way to implant knowledge/memories into the mind. Superboy requires cloning tech, knowledge of splicing, kryptonian DNA, human DNA (which you have), a method of accelerating growth (either biologically or through temporal manipulation) and a way to implant triggers into others minds.
Both of them are still relatively far off but can be reached (I don't see you developing the skills to make either of them until turn 28 at minimum but I could be wrong and you could surprise me).
@King crimson: We could always make a VR environment or something instead of implanting knowledge, that way we can couple it with temporal manipulation so from their perspective they really did have a childhood. Would using a VR environment cut down on the time needed?
@King crimson: We could always make a VR environment or something instead of implanting knowledge, that way we can couple it with temporal manipulation so from their perspective they really did have a childhood. Would using a VR environment cut down on the time needed?
Which I think was part of the Bart Allen Impulse's origin story, actually. He was raised entirely within a VR environment, and so one of the first things he learned was that life does in fact have a reset button.
Granted, this happened because he was aging super rapidly naturally and the VR was the only way to give him the knowledge he needed not to be screwed over by being a two year-old in a twelve year-old's body.
@King crimson: We could always make a VR environment or something instead of implanting knowledge, that way we can couple it with temporal manipulation so from their perspective they really did have a childhood. Would using a VR environment cut down on the time needed?
It would be possible but you'd need really good VR or you'd start getting side effects and even then some weirdness could occur. It's possible but by the time your VR gets so powerful it can create decades long unbroken, all sense encompassing, massive, complex illusions that can effectively fool a Kryptonian's senses your illusions are so good you could effectively use it for a lot more than just that.
@King crimson: Hmm, how about refining/improving Pheromone Control so that way we can program people? Like, we clearly need a lot of work, since Pamela's ability would just leave them drooling puppets if we tried programming a whole personality & backstory.
@King crimson: Hmm, how about refining/improving Pheromone Control so that way we can program people? Like, we clearly need a lot of work, since Pamela's ability would just leave them drooling puppets if we tried programming a whole personality & backstory.
It's very mixed. Like pheromone control to build a personality wouldn't work for a clone since the pheromones rely on language comprehension to work (if the person being affected doesn't understand the commands given it won't have any effect). Furthermore pheromone control wouldn't create true personality from scratch for the clones even if they could comprehend the spoken commands. Rather it would basically create a series of input-output reactions were the clone would automatically react to things as they were given. You'd have to meticulously explain every concept to get the reaction right, the clone wouldn't know how to respond to anything it doesn't comprehend (like if you didn't program the clone to have a way to deal with ostriches it would revert to an infants mentality when dealing with an ostrich and it would potentially begin to start acting extremely erratically as the presence of the ostrich would potentially interfere with autonomous processes of say shooting intruders if the ostrich gets in the way because the input-output system no longer functions with the available data) and it could potentially be heavily messed with (illusions could cause the programming to be turned against you incredibly fast). Anything with the mind of an infant is going to be next to impossible to influence effectively with pheromones beyond making it calm or making it angry.
Programming false personalities and backstories into people who already understand things and can communicate is possible but it has horrible moral implications and it can come crashing down if you leave contradictions or someone else messes with it.
And this interlude is now up. Hoo boy is it a doozy. A lot of work went into making this omake good (including some done by Simon Jester) so I hope you all enjoy. I'm very curious to see people's thoughts about this and about Lionel himself as a character. There is a lot to unpack here and a lot of this stuff sets up for things later down the line in Lionel's development.
Lion of Luthor Interlude: Little Lion
Lionel Luthor (Age 13)
Lionel knew that he was a failure in his mother's eyes. He'd never be good enough, smart enough, clever enough, or strong enough to be a success. His mother wouldn't love him, no matter what he did. If you stood up to her, tried to do anything against her will, she'd break you completely and utterly to get you under her control. She was always watching, always judging, always eager to undercut and undermine people so they ended up tied down and under her thumb. Lionel hated his mother, and he knew that if he wasn't careful, she'd have him destroyed and replaced, or broken down like she had done to every other person in his life.
Lionel hadn't always hated his mother. When he was a child, he wanted nothing more than for her to acknowledge him as good enough. He loved her and wanted to please her. He leapt into all of the countless pointless stupid tutors and lessons and activities his mother had arranged in order to groom him into what she wanted him to be. And yet no matter how hard he tried, he was never good enough. He'd go and read the Odyssey and tell his mother about it, and she'd snidely remark "That's rather nice, dear, but you really should try and read it in the original Greek. The translations miss so much of the context." He'd learn his multiplication tables and his mother would mockingly comment "Good, now what was it Grandpa Leo would have said to that when I was your age... hm, what's two thirds times three fifths?"
Over and over again he was never good enough, never fast enough, never smart enough. Mother always wanted more and more and more, letting Lionel know just how inferior he was to his mother when she was his age. It never ended and never stopped. Mother wouldn't let that happen because it interfered with her plans. Lionel remembered once when he was five when he asked one of his tutors why he wasn't allowed to play with other children his age instead of spending all his time learning. The tutor had responded by saying that his mother wouldn't approve of him being "lazy and indolent." And so he was cut off from all peers his age only ever interacting with them in "lessons" his mother approved of. This only made it easier for his mother to keep on dumping more work onto him because no one ever dared to truly stand up to her.
Eventually, Lionel had enough. He gave up. He'd never be as smart or as clever as his mother, so why ever bother? He began to skip lessons and ceased paying attention. His mother eventually confronted him about his behavior. He didn't remember much of the ensuing argument, but there was one moment that had stuck with him for years. He had complained about not being able to do things like a normal child and his mother had instantly turned cold. He remembered her harsh biting statement and the way her eyes grew dark at his insinuation that he should be treated like a normal child.
"You are my son" his mother coldly responded. "You are not a normal child, and I will not coddle you as though you were one. You are destined for bigger and better things than the common man".
It burned and stung. At the time Lionel hadn't fully resigned himself to it as he had now. Mother had already ensured that he never would be a normal child and to pretend otherwise was the height of folly. He was too good to be normal, but too much of a failure for his mother to ever be proud of him or love him. He knew this to be the truth. Back then, though, he was convinced that if he could show his mother that he was actually a normal child, she'd treat him like one. He'd been a fool and all of his efforts in ditching lessons and trying to behave like his mother always said common people did only made his mother angrier and more intolerant to his behavior.
The man he'd thought was his father was no help at all. Back then, he hadn't yet realized that the slimy lying creature was one of his mother's puppets. No, back then he had thought that the liar was his father and that he had cared about him. Sure, the man had never cared about Lionel's interests, he'd never been supportive of Lionel in the face of his mother, and he was never really around, but Lionel at age seven didn't know any better. Sure, he'd had an inkling that fathers were supposed to act differently, but that was never reality, and the bloated liar was always smiling when meeting with others, so surely he could be trusted not to be cruel. The liar that endlessly prevaricated and gave platitudes was supposed to be his father and as such, he'd thought that he could be trusted. Maybe the man his mother married, who could make her smile when Lionel couldn't, would be able to get her to let him do his own things and still love him despite not being good enough. So when he saw the liar, he'd asked him to help stand up against his mother and let him do what he wanted to. The man always sidestepped and avoided ever taking Lionel's side, always telling him "your mother knows best." He eventually asked the man why he and his mother didn't love him enough to ever listen to their only child. The liar, as always, evaded, never giving a straight answer. And then naturally the slimy rat ended up telling his mother about it, which caused her to confront him.
"Little Lion," His mother coldly stated, not knowing or not caring that Lionel hated that nickname. It made him feel weak and helpless and worthless, and he hated it. "Stop bothering Dennis with your foolish little temper tantrums. He has no business weighing in on how I raise my son. One day, you'll understand that everything I'm pushing you into is for your own good, when it's made you into the heir you ought to be."
Lionel knew then that the liar would always take his mother's side and would report things to her. He'd never take his side and couldn't be trusted with secrets.
Lionel still hadn't gotten any answers as to why those who should have cared for him the most cared nothing about him. And so he started listening in on conversations. Back when he was still on good terms with his mother's pet murderess, he had learned how to spy and pick locks. And so he began to investigate his mother and his so-called father, hoping that he would find the secret to getting those he thought were his parents to love him and accept him as good enough. He wanted to figure out the reason why they were never proud or interested in him. In the end, the truth came out when he started eavesdropping on his mother's conversations with her pet murderess. The conversation would end up forever seared into his brain.
"Millie," His mother groused. "Where did I go wrong with Lionel? He has the right pedigree and the right tutors and the right environment to be the perfect man! Why does he insist on squandering and spitting on all of my hard work to make sure everything would go smoothly for him?"
The murderess responded, in that drawling, lazy tone Lionel had since come to hate once he'd learned the truth about her. "Kids aren't dogs, Lor. They pick their own roads. Do you think I stopped to ask Mom and Dad's permission before..."
His mother snorted. "Don't be ridiculous, Millie, I know how to raise a child! I'm just wondering if I overlooked something in Lionel's father. Some sign that Lionel might grow up willful- pigheaded- unscholarly. Say what you will about Dennis, I'm pretty sure a son of his would have been more agreeable..."
The conversation likely continued onwards, but Lionel fled from his hiding spot trying to contain his shock. In the dark of his room, he mulled over what he had just learned. The man he thought was his father was not actually his father. He was just a liar acting according to what his mother wanted from him. The pain crystallized into understanding. Looking back, Lionel saw this as the first moment he became his own man. The liar wasn't his father and so Lionel shouldn't bother to expect anything from him. The corpulent creature was nothing more than an extension of his mother's design.
However, in the past he'd been certain that he could threaten the man into revealing who his real father was. In hindsight, it was stupid and boneheaded, but as a child, Lionel didn't know any better. He confronted the liar who once again ran away to hide behind his mother. His mother, though, revealed another painful truth to him.
"No, Dennis is not your father" she calmly admitted "But what makes you think that the man I chose to conceive you with cares about you at all?"
Lionel protested, insisting that because the man was his father, of course he had to care and love for him. And that he'd be happy to have him, unlike his mother who hated him for never being good enough.
"Little Lion," his mother softly intoned, "he's already given you away. He could hardly care less about you. Hardly ever writes, even. But me? I've kept you and raised you, warts and all, no matter how many little tantrums you throw. Think about that, when you think about who really loves you."
It hurt. It hurt so much knowing that one parent didn't love him enough to keep him or even see him, while the other only loved him as long as he was useful and fulfilled the purpose she had in mind for him. And he knew he'd never be good enough for his mother in the end. Lionel knew she thought of him as a failure. Lionel ran off, unable to meet his mother's knowing gaze and her condescending smirk, since she knew exactly how little anyone cared about Lionel.
Back then Lionel still had one person he could confide in. One person who cared for him as Lionel instead of as his mother's child. Uncle Leonidas was the one person who could take his side. As such he could confess what he had learned that day to his uncle and he would care about what Lionel thought.
Lionel regretted getting his uncle involved. He should have known that his mother would have sought to destroy any source of happiness and anything that kept him out of her control. It was his fault what ultimately happened to Uncle Leonidas. But back then, Lionel was much weaker than he was now. He still believed that people besides himself could protect him from his mother's vision.
Lionel had confessed what he learned to Uncle Leonidas and how he felt, and his uncle had taken his side. Lionel only heard of it second hand, but his uncle had apparently yelled at his mother about how she was mistreating Lionel and that she needed to rethink things. No one had ever done that for Lionel before. Uncle Leonidas began interrupting Lionel's lessons and took him outside to see the world. He taught Lionel how to play baseball and jacks and card games. He even took Lionel to see a baseball game for his eighth birthday. To this very day Lionel looked fondly on that time with Uncle Leonidas as the happiest period in his life. Of course mother sought to destroy it. And as always, nobody was strong enough to stop her.
Uncle Leonidas had always acted strange sometimes. Now he started to act stranger, and more often. He got angrier for no good reason and he wasn't able to spend as much time with Lionel anymore. He locked himself away from Lionel and told him to leave him alone. Lionel couldn't figure out what was going on, but from some of the looks on his mother's face, he knew she was behind this somehow. And yet he couldn't figure out how. He knew his uncle was sick, but he didn't figure out how that connected to his change in behavior.
It was only when he overheard his mother telling her pet, the woman he'd sometimes called Aunt Milly when he was younger and more innocent, to make sure that uncle Leonidas got his newest batch of medicine that he put it all together. His mother was poisoning his uncle and at least one of the Graves family was helping her to do it.
He attempted to approach his uncle to warn him about his mother's schemes, but it was too late. Leonidas had already ceded control to his mother and been utterly broken by her poisons and manipulations. When Lionel saw his normally vibrant and excitable uncle, who wasn't afraid to speak his mind, lying infirm and weak in bed, softly apologizing to him and telling him that his mother would take care of him, part of him broke. He'd always known his mother was a monster who was only happy if she got her own way, but this cemented it. This was how far his mother was willing to go to keep control and ensure everything unfolded according to her design.
Lionel was still stupid and bold and believed his mother would listen to him at the time, so he confronted his mother about what she did. His mother denied having poisoned his uncle, merely stating that she was helping to take care of him and ensure he made no more mistakes. His mother then made a comment that shook free the last cobwebs of apprehension- and faith in his mother- away from him.
"In fact, you're starting to remind me of him." his mother sighed. "Your uncle is a good boy at heart, but he needs someone keeping an eye on him, or he goes off the plot." She shook her head. "I raised you to be the rider, not the horse. Don't turn into your uncle, dear."
Lionel couldn't help but imagine himself in Uncle Leonidas's place, broken, weak, bowing and scraping to any and all demand of his mother. The thought terrified him. More terrifying was the fact that his mother would do such a thing to him. It didn't matter if she loved him or not, because she would destroy him and unmake him if he went against her plans. His mother was a monster.
Lionel made some excuses about how he understood his mother and apologized for his outburst and just trembled in terror and hoped desperately that his mother wouldn't see fit to break him next. His mother just smiled and dismissed him. Lionel fled from the room.
Home wasn't safe anymore. It never was safe, but Lionel had to leave if he wanted to be free. He could never live up to his mother's expectations and she'd eventually break him when he went off script. He had to run away. And so Lionel packed himself some clothes and some money and ran away from home in the middle of the night.
Lionel was proud of running away from home. While it, like every attempt to be free from his mother's designs, had failed, it had shown him what he could achieve and accomplish. It had shown him that he couldn't afford mediocrity and allowed him to see what might have been. It was that taste of freedom which drove him on even now.
At the time, though, he was unaware of what this would all mean to him. It was cold and dark and wet and Lionel didn't know where to go beyond getting as far away from home as possible. Eventually, though, he stumbled upon a circus. The people there took him in and helped him get on his feet. He spoke to them and got to know them and even made a few friends. Of particular note was Barney.
Barney was a knife thrower. He'd run away from home as well- to join the circus. He had an ugly face; numerous scars dotted his arms and face. He talked to Lionel a lot about his own home life and that it was okay to run away from home if his parents were hurting him. In turn Lionel felt like he could trust him and while he never spoke too much about his mother and the past, Lionel still spoke with him regularly about everything that caught his interest. The best thing about Barney was that he cared. He didn't understand everything Lionel talked about, but he cared about Lionel. That was more than anyone else had before. Sometimes Lionel liked to imagine that Barney was his father.
He spent about a month and a half at the circus, and learned various tricks and tips from the members there. It was freedom and Lionel loved it. Of course it all soon came crashing down.
To this day he didn't know how, but somehow his mother's pet murderess tracked him down and confronted him in the back of the circus.
"Your mom's been worried about you," the killer said. "She's been devastated since you ran away from home."
Lionel was not assuaged by this at all. He had to get away, and prevent his mother from taking him back. He was finally free; he wouldn't go back unless they dragged him back. He'd never end up broken like Uncle Leonidas.
A deep baritone voice cut in as Lionel was scrambling away from his mother's tool.
"What's going on in here?" The familiar voice of Barney called out. "You alright, kid?"
Lionel felt relieved. Barney was strong and tough and knew how to use knives. He could protect him from his mother. He wouldn't break like everyone else had. He nodded that he was fine. Barney smiled at him before turning to confront his mother's agent, fixing her with a glare.
"I'm here to return Lionel home." The murderess explained. "His mother's been very worried about him since he ran away."
"Kid, you wanna go home?" Barney asked. Lionel shook his head in an emphatic no. He never wanted to go back to where his mother could control him. "Then he's not going anywhere."
Miss Graves looked annoyed at Barney's declaration, as though he was a fool who didn't understand what was going on. In hindsight, Lionel knew that she was right about that, despite how much he wished that Barney had actually known what he was dealing with and chosen to protect him anyway.
"I don't know if he's told you, but he's Lionel Luthor. His mother's Lorelei Luthor. And she's been devastated by his absence." The killer explained. "Do you read the papers? About how much his mother misses him? Do yourself a favor. Get out of the way, before someone gets hurt. I'll even see to it you get the reward money."
Barney spat at the murderess.
"I don't care if his dad's the President of the United States, and the reward's all the tea in China." Barney growled. "If he doesn't want to go back home, he doesn't have to. I'm not letting you bring the kid back to his shitty excuse for parents."
The murderess tensed. Her voice went dead flat. Cold. Frightening in a way nothing had ever frightened Lionel before. "I'm not leaving here without him" She firmly stated.
"You're leaving," Barney said as he grabbed Miss Graves by the shoulder.
Or that's what Lionel thought Barney was doing. But she leaned back strangely, and fast, her foot sweeping out and slashing against his shin. Barney grunted, wobbling from having a leg almost kicked out from under him. He didn't try to grab her again. She took a quick step-and-a-half back.
"Don't touch me." the murderess hissed. "Don't make me do something we're all going to regret. Let me take Lionel home. Best for everyone."
Barney pulled out a knife. And stepped towards Miss Graves.
"I ran away from my shithead parents when I was his age," he growled menacingly, stepping towards her once slowly as she took one of those strange, almost floating steps back, then a second and third. "I'm not putting any kid through what I went through. Leave now, lady, or I'm going to have to hurt you."
"You want to do this?" Miss Graves raised an eyebrow incredulously.
"Someone needs to stick up for kids with shitty parents" He intoned, his voice half caught in his throat. "And if that means threatening goons like you, then yes, I'm threatening you. Don't make me cut your throat."
The murderess just sighed.
"Close your eyes Lionel" she whispered. Lionel didn't listen. Years later, he both did and didn't regret not listening.
The gun was in her hand and roaring before Lionel even saw her move. She shot Barney before he could react, then shot him twice more. Blood flowed, and the man dropped dead. The sight of his mother's tool murdering someone who had tried to protect him even after he had run away was forever etched into Lionel's brain. Even Barney, with his knife skills and his scars and his muscles and his stories about how he'd escaped his dad who beat him, had not been strong enough to stop his mother from getting what she wanted. In barely a second he lay bleeding on the floor, dying for having dared to interfere. Lionel was horrified.
"I'm sorry you saw that," the murderess quietly murmured. Lionel flinched as she stepped towards him. "Please don't make this harder than it needs to be."
Lionel gave in. He let her take him back home. If he tried to resist, more people would die. Maybe even Lionel himself would die. The killer could pretend to be a friend, could pretend to care about him, could pretend to be "Aunt Milly," but if his mother wanted it done, she'd kill him without a second thought.
When he arrived back home his mother hugged him. Lionel knew it was a lie, but he still couldn't help but have a tiny part of himself feel elation at the fact that his mother loved him. He buried that part of himself deep within himself. Such attachments and desires would only weaken Lionel. Wanting her to love him would only get him destroyed when he failed to live up to her standards because he just wasn't good enough.
There was an awkward silence for a bit before his mother felt the need to break it.
"So you did run away to join the circus- that plan could have used some work." His mother's sniffle had to be fake. Any sign of weakness on his mothers part was a lie, a trick to get him to lower his guard so she could start twisting him around until he was so tangled up in her strings he wouldn't know up from down. "But it shows you've got a spark to you. That's something, Little Lion, that's something." She gave another fake smile. Lionel hated how she used that nickname and how she always made him feel so small and sad and weak and pathetic. "Just listen, from now on. Trust me. I know you're angry right now, but you're still my baby boy..." Another fake sniffle, and some more words he didn't really hear, because the fact his mother was so obviously lying to him was making him angry.
It was a lie, and a stupid, insulting lie. Lorelei Luthor was a poisoner and a killer, and had probably never come close to crying in her life.
And why would she be sad? No, she had what she wanted. She was trying to make him follow the script. Play his part. Her baby boy. Hers. Never his own boy, let alone his own man.
Lionel just tersely said that he understood and left his mother, heading into his old room. He'd gone through the motions. He was once again an acceptable if inadequate heir.
However, his mother didn't know of the secret ambition he harbored deep within his heart. He'd take everything she'd give him and grow strong and powerful enough that he could break free from his mother. Then he'd be able to be his own man, and he'd unmake her. He'd destroy her utterly and leave her consigned to irrelevance, forced to meekly nod and accept his demands rather than the other way around. There were only two kinds of people in the world. Those who ruled and those who are ruled. His mother had taught him that. And so Lionel was going to ensure that he succeeded, and managed to control his own future.
At age thirteen he might still be a "little lion." No more threatening or in control than when he ran off to the circus, or when he still wanted his mother's approval, but one day he'd grow. And when the lion grew big and strong, it would devour and maim all those who had wronged it. Lionel could wait. He'd never be mother's perfect heir. He'd be the creature that destroyed all of her works and carefully crafted plans for the future before he consigned her to watch him succeed while she helplessly stood aside, unable to do anything on her own, much as she'd forced him to do for so long. Lionel would come out on top in the end, and his mother would regret thinking he wasn't good enough and not letting him do what he wanted.
I now desire to contact grandmama in the afterlife or bring her back to life, just to let her know that Lex has rebuilt the family legacy better than ever after Little Lion tried to destroy it.
I now desire to contact grandmama in the afterlife or bring her back to life, just to let her know that Lex has rebuilt the family legacy better than ever after Little Lion tried to destroy it.
She doesnt deserve that. She was the one who set the things in motion. She is petty foolish creature, And Killing another Luthor ? step over the line, Family is part of your legacy you dont just remove part of your legacy because you couldnt improve it.
I now desire to contact grandmama in the afterlife or bring her back to life, just to let her know that Lex has rebuilt the family legacy better than ever after Little Lion tried to destroy it.
To be fair, she really did screw up raising Lionel. Lionel's inner monologue is unfair to Dennis Barbe, and arguably to Mildred Graves.
But while Lorelei isn't quite the emotionless supreme Mastermind From Hell that Lionel makes her out to be... she's done enough of that that it's quite understandable that he thinks so.
She doesnt deserve that. She was the one who set the things in motion. She is petty foolish creature, And Killing another Luthor ? step over the line, Family is part of your legacy you dont just remove part of your legacy because you couldnt improve it.
Point of information: Leonidas Luthor didn't die of what Lorelei did to him during this omake. He was a very unhappy person for a while, but he didn't die, nor did Lorelei intend that he die.
The only person who died as part of the events discussed is Barney the very unfortunate circus knife-thrower.
I now desire to contact grandmama in the afterlife or bring her back to life, just to let her know that Lex has rebuilt the family legacy better than ever after Little Lion tried to destroy it.
Lionel didn't try to destroy the entire family legacy (just his mother's). He ran the family business well enough when Lorelei died. In fact despite his best wishes Lionel pretty much became incredibly similar to his mother towards the end of his life. He didn't destroy the family legacy but instead in many ways solidified it. Almost everything you see Lorelei do in the first two omakes of this series Lionel will go on to do himself in some manner.
She doesnt deserve that. She was the one who set the things in motion. She is petty foolish creature, And Killing another Luthor ? step over the line, Family is part of your legacy you dont just remove part of your legacy because you couldnt improve it.
You're not fully wrong in what you are saying but I don't think it's as simple as saying "person X" started it all. I spoke with Simon Jester a bit about the character and a lot of the things Lorelei did wrong initially were things her father did to her (emotionally neglecting a child and leaving him alone with nothing but a bunch of tutors was something he did to Lorelei and Leonidas). There's no clear cut good buys or bad guys here (note that Lionel's story ends with him getting killed by his own son). You can keep tracing back where the Luthor parenting went wrong but there is no single moment where you can say "this person is responsible for everything".
Hilariously (if your sense of humor runs really dark), the Lutor child with the best relationship with their parents in arguably the past five generations or so is the formerly mute adopted girl trained to be a living weapon.
Point of information: Leonidas Luthor didn't die of what Lorelei did to him during this omake. He was a very unhappy person for a while, but he didn't die, nor did Lorelei intend that he die.
What did end up happening to him isn't exactly great by any stretch of the imagination.
She wasn't trying to kill him but what she did end up doing wasn't a good thing at all. She wasn't trying to kill him but what happened to him wasn't something he wanted or needed.
You're not fully wrong in what you are saying but I don't think it's as simple as saying "person X" started it all. I spoke with Simon Jester a bit about the character and a lot of the things Lorelei did wrong initially were things her father did to her (emotionally neglecting a child and leaving him alone with nothing but a bunch of tutors was something he did to Lorelei and Leonidas).
I think that's a bit unfair to Louis Luthor, at least to some extent- I may not have explained things right- but it's true that Louis was on the distant side. Also that some of his more unsavory activities had fallout for his kids that impacted them in various ways- arguably more so than Lorelei's own supervillain moments did for Lionel.
What did end up happening to him isn't exactly great by any stretch of the imagination.
She wasn't trying to kill him but what she did end up doing wasn't a good thing at all. She wasn't trying to kill him but what happened to him wasn't something he wanted or needed.
Oh, absolutely not. Not for a moment denying it. She's just not specifically guilty of killing Leonidas Luthor, which is the thing I believe @Defiant Roar accused her of doing.
She's done plenty of other very bad things, including to members of her own family. She's just not specifically guilty of killing Leonidas Luthor.
I think that's a bit unfair to Louis Luthor, at least to some extent- I may not have explained things right- but it's true that Louis was on the distant side. Also that some of his more unsavory activities had fallout for his kids that impacted them in various ways- arguably more so than Lorelei's own supervillain moments did for Lionel.
Part of why it might be unfair is because I'm not fully aware of the circumstances surrounding him. However, I'm certain that if I wanted to I could find the mistakes that his parents made with him and see how they affected how he raised his children which in turn affected how Lorelei raised Lionel which in turn affected how Lionel raised Lex. The point is that every Luthor that was a parent made mistakes in raising their children that were often carried over to the next generation.
Part of why it might be unfair is because I'm not fully aware of the circumstances surrounding him. However, I'm certain that if I wanted to I could find the mistakes that his parents made with him and see how they affected how he raised his children which in turn affected how Lorelei raised Lionel which in turn affected how Lionel raised Lex. The point is that every Luthor that was a parent made mistakes in raising their children that were often carried over to the next generation.
Pretty much. You can honestly argue that Leland and Leonardo didn't really do anything all that wrong as fathers... but by that point you're literally 100 years in the past.
I now desire to contact grandmama in the afterlife or bring her back to life, just to let her know that Lex has rebuilt the family legacy better than ever after Little Lion tried to destroy it.
Hilariously (if your sense of humor runs really dark), the Lutor child with the best relationship with their parents in arguably the past five generations or so is the formerly mute adopted girl trained to be a living weapon.
That tracks. Lionel's childhood doesn't sound significantly different from Cassandra's (we might teach our kid personally more often than Lorelei did and she has Jinx for a friend, but overall Lionel's issues with how his mom raised him sound very familiar), but for Cassandra we're a significant improvement over what she had before while Lionel never had a before.
The train of abusive childhood backstories continues to ride on with no breaks.
While certainly explains the Luthor family's issues. Hopefully we will maintain being an improvement in the parental department compare to daddy dearest and granny (not that such a task is difficult).
That tracks. Lionel's childhood doesn't sound significantly different from Cassandra's (we might teach our kid personally more often than Lorelei did and she has Jinx for a friend, but overall Lionel's issues with how his mom raised him sound very familiar), but for Cassandra we're a significant improvement over what she had before while Lionel never had a before.
It's not just that Lex spends more time with Cass. Pam dotes on her. Cass also has time to pursue her own projects, otherwise that build a bomb thing probably wouldn't have gotten off the ground.
If she's really lacking anything that Lionel also lacked, it's probably peer socialization. Something we probably should look into doing at some point. Just got to make sure to keep things manageable, seeing as she hasn't had much opportunity to do so before now.
That would admittedly bother her and if we summon her ghost she will probably engage in spectral old lady antics pestering Lex about wanting biological great-grandkids.
Though it will be relatively affectionate pestering. She liked Lex. And Lex hasn't actually waited longer to have kids of his own (so to speak) than Lorelei did.
That tracks. Lionel's childhood doesn't sound significantly different from Cassandra's (we might teach our kid personally more often than Lorelei did and she has Jinx for a friend, but overall Lionel's issues with how his mom raised him sound very familiar), but for Cassandra we're a significant improvement over what she had before while Lionel never had a before.
The other reason is that Cassandra thrives on this kind of parenting a lot better than Lionel did.
To understand the generational dynamics here, it's important to bear in mind that Leonardo Luthor (Leland's son and Lorelei's grandfather) was a child prodigy and scientific genius of the first order- he didn't have Lex's skill at manipulation or intrigue, but he could probably have matched Lex in sheer scientific prowess if he'd been born in an age that permitted it.
Leonardo was quite frankly at least as nice a person as any Luthor born during the 20th century, arguably more so. And he married a rather kindly woman. And so his son Louis had a pretty decent childhood all things considered. There was something of a disconnect, though, because Louis was not a budding young scientific genius. His talents, like those of, say, Lucius or Linus before him, were more oriented towards business, intrigue, and negotiation. So while 'Leo' was kind to the boy, and Louis never felt any great ill will towards his father, Leonardo never really knew what to do with him. Louis Luthor just wasn't as much of a nerd as his father, or even his grandfather Leland, you see.
Leonidas and Lorelei were born in the 1910s and spent a great deal of time with their paternal grandparents in their early childhood. Leonidas, who is best understood as a slightly lesser version of his father Louis, simply had a good time, ate the cookies, grumbled about his Latin lessons, and played in the garden, much as his father had a few decades before.
Lorelei blossomed. She, like Leonardo and Lex, had the 'science prodigy' trait of the family lineage. And unlike most 19th century men Leonardo had absolutely no qualms giving a girl the beginnings of a scientific education. He learned to read and write from his aunt Liselle, later known as Liselle Sloane, the first American Nobel laureate, who earned the 1903 Prize for medicine thanks to her work on the vaccines for cholera and typhoid fever. So for a few years before Leonardo died, Lorelei got the same kind of education that someone like Lex or for that matter Cassandra would need to truly grow at full speed.
A large part of what Lorelei was trying (with limited if any success) to do while raising Lionel was to give him that same kind of 'education for prodigies.' She refused to admit to herself, for a long time, that it wasn't working and wasn't productive, because she was trying to force Lionel into the same mold that someone like Lex would have fitted into naturally.
It's not just that Lex spends more time with Cass. Pam dotes on her. Cass also has time to pursue her own projects, otherwise that build a bomb thing probably wouldn't have gotten off the ground.
If she's really lacking anything that Lionel also lacked, it's probably peer socialization. Something we probably should look into doing at some point. Just got to make sure to keep things manageable, seeing as she hasn't had much opportunity to do so before now.
It's not just what she lacks. What she doesn't lack is a whole lot of pressure to excel in order to follow in her father's footsteps. The real defining moment of her relationship with Lex, at least numerically and in my opinion also narratively, was him teaching her science and her soaking it up like a Luthor-designed supersponge. She does very well in that sort of environment, partly because she was already used to similar expectations more violently enforced and partly because that's just who she is, but the broad strokes are still the same as what Lionel had.
It's not just what she lacks. What she doesn't lack is a whole lot of pressure to excel in order to follow in her father's footsteps. The real defining moment of her relationship with Lex, at least numerically and in my opinion also narratively, was him teaching her science and her soaking it up like a Luthor-designed supersponge. She does very well in that sort of environment, partly because she was already used to similar expectations more violently enforced and partly because that's just who she is, but the broad strokes are still the same as what Lionel had.
Lorelei failed badly with Lionel in part due to the fact that he just plain wasn't the kind of mental mutant that Cassandra, Lex, and Lorelei herself are/were, to varying degrees. She would have known how to raise one of those, though she might very well have given up on Cassandra's speech impediment prematurely before thinking to explore magical solutions.
...
Of course, the best thing that could have happened to Lionel given the limitations of the people around him and the decisions they'd made before he was even conceived... Well, frankly, ahistorically early institutional acceptance gay marriage would have solved a LOT of his problems.
If Mildred Graves had been more directly involved in his upbringing from an early age, and if she'd had the position to more openly push back regarding how Lorelei was treating him, a lot of this could have been avoided. Plus, Lionel wouldn't have experienced the same level of paternity shock, which did a lot to alienate him in DCQU canon.
Based on what @King crimson has been batting back and forth with me, I'd say he was born in the late 1960s in this continuity. He was "in his early twenties" when the quest started in the very early 1990s. So, say, 1967-1970, somewhere in there.
After the Union Pacific's amazing "nine mile day" and the Central Pacific's staggering "eleven mile day," there was little enough in the way of tracklaying to be done, and no more room for heroic feats. This was true in the most literal sense possible. The two railheads were now only a few miles apart, with their final meeting place located midway between them.
Luthor faced a few inconveniences that would make their way into the memoirs of men around him- though he himself never wrote any. Particularly memorable was a budding labor strike over issues of back pay, which Luthor managed to disperse with a speech full of promises- and a roll of bills from his own pocket.
Like his counterparts, Leland Stanford of the Central Pacific Railroad and the other leading men of the Californian 'Big Four' who has masterminded their half of the project, Luthor was present on May 8, 1869, when a pair of 4-4-0 'Metropolitan' locomotives met at Promontory Point, Utah, where the UP and CP lines had finally connected. A delegation of politicians and senior leadership likewise met, to drive in the precious-metal spikes that would symbolically unite the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans.
Photograph: East and West Shaking Hands at Last Rail, taken by the famous Andrew J. Russell. Unfortunately, Mr. Luthor's face is largely obscured by the crowd and lighting conditions.
With a tremendous press of bodies around the two locomotives, the ceremony grew disorganized. Accounts differ as to who was present besides the principals of each railway, and of what was said. A story soon spread that when Leland Stanford proved unable to strike a proper blow against the final golden spike with the silver sledgehammer provided, Leland Luthor took the hammer and drove it in himself. This claim could not be substantiated and was strongly contested in California, but did add a certain spark to the benefits Luthor's reputation received from having been present.
Promontory Point, Utah
May 8, 1869
"Oh, give me that! Now Jack, reconnect the wires, I want this to go out over the telegraph- how do you expect it to work with the contacts this loose? Now, stand clear, stand clear, I'm swinging it back- one, two, three, UNH!"
The Heartland
The Fifth Summer Since The War
Few recover easily from being torn in half. You are finding it… difficult.
You lie there, prostrated in spirit- and for you, the body is the spirit, so you are bedridden in all truth.
Your battle with your distorted opposite, your equal in strength and almost your antithesis in nature, was long and brutal. At last you got the upper hand on him, but not without cost, not without spilling an ocean of your blood. And reabsorbing his substance has done little to heal your wounds. He is not gone, you can feel that which made him still within you, roiling, trying to change you back into him and reverse the verdict of your battle.
Absently, shoulders bowed, weak and weary, you dropped all the powerful weapons with which you finally struck down your mirror, your grim gray twin, your brother. The weapons were cunning things, but so very heavy, and you are so weary.
Best to sit down for a spell, you think.
Years pass, in which you sit, numb, weak, scarred.
Then the spell you awaited comes.
<click>
What is that? It's electrifying. It's electricity, itself, the faintest echo of a spirit of lightning. Good old Ben couldn't possibly have known the value his 'batteries' of Leyden jars would bring to the ritual in Philadelphia, but you're grateful for it now. Lightning in your veins helps bind you together. And perhaps… something is changing. Something that binds you.
<clang>
Yes, you can feel it. Sinews of iron and pulses of electricity, knitting you together in a way you never were before. The lassitude and weakness, and some of the pain, that you have felt these past four years and more, passes from you. A ceremony of connection, to combat the lingering scars of division.
<CLANG>
The reverberations of another hammer blow send shivers along your spine. You stand. You stretch your arms, spread your fingers, and with your left hand you dip your fingertips into the waters of the eastern sea, while with your right you dig up a handful of sand from the beaches of the uttermost west. Your senses clear. Your destiny clears. You resolve, some day, to fight down the remaining infection within yourself. It is cancer, but it is benign. You can, you believe, contain it. Some day, you will have the strength to end it.
Now what will you need, to make that happen?
Many things, and not all of them can happen fast. But for one, you're going to need an avatar. The minuteman isn't you anymore, isn't this century, and has been horribly perverted anyway. Shredded, almost, by the ritual in Montgomery.
You need a new avatar. You extend your senses, the stranger ones that no language you know can describe.
Somewhere out there a man is standing up to power, armed only with a pen… He is out there, waiting for you to become him. It won't be long. You will recover, and help those who must be helped. You will protect the ideas you were born from, and make your way, perhaps groping blindly in the dark if you must, to the future. The future that is still a misty outline in your mind, where the ideas you are destined to become beckon you. Your fathers could not have imagined them, might have feared them… But you know, on a level beneath thought and speech, that you will make your way there.
And one day, you will clean yourself of these evils and the scars of this division.
You as a thread/questgoer or Lex Luthor himself (cause those two things are different)?
Cause if we look at things Lex taught her some things (special people are meant to be turned to your side or destroyed, lying and manipulation is okay to do to non-Luthors so long as it gets you what you want and you don't get caught, you are more important than common people etc.) aren't exactly healthy things to teach a child.
On top of all of this stuff it's very easy to see where things went wrong with hindsight but not in the moment itself. You'll probably be able to point out a mistake that was made much later in the quest when Cassandra gains more independence from Lex.
After the Union Pacific's amazing "nine mile day" and the Central Pacific's staggering "eleven mile day," there was little enough in the way of tracklaying to be done, and no more room for heroic feats. This was true in the most literal sense possible. The two railheads were now only a few miles apart, with their final meeting place located midway between them.
Luthor faced a few inconveniences that would make their way into the memoirs of men around him- though he himself never wrote any. Particularly memorable was a budding labor strike over issues of back pay, which Luthor managed to disperse with a speech full of promises- and a roll of bills from his own pocket.
Like his counterparts, Leland Stanford of the Central Pacific Railroad and the other leading men of the Californian 'Big Four' who has masterminded their half of the project, Luthor was present on May 8, 1869, when a pair of 4-4-0 'Metropolitan' locomotives met at Promontory Point, Utah, where the UP and CP lines had finally connected. A delegation of politicians and senior leadership likewise met, to drive in the precious-metal spikes that would symbolically unite the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans.
Photograph: East and West Shaking Hands at Last Rail, taken by the famous Andrew J. Russell. Unfortunately, Mr. Luthor's face is largely obscured by the crowd and lighting conditions.
With a tremendous press of bodies around the two locomotives, the ceremony grew disorganized. Accounts differ as to who was present besides the principals of each railway, and of what was said. A story soon spread that when Leland Stanford proved unable to strike a proper blow against the final golden spike with the silver sledgehammer provided, Leland Luthor took the hammer and drove it in himself. This claim could not be substantiated and was strongly contested in California, but did add a certain spark to the benefits Luthor's reputation received from having been present.
Promontory Point, Utah
May 8, 1869
"Oh, give me that! Now Jack, reconnect the wires, I want this to go out over the telegraph- how do you expect it to work with the contacts this loose? Now, stand clear, stand clear, I'm swinging it back- one, two, three, UNH!"
The Heartland
The Fifth Summer Since The War
Few recover easily from being torn in half. You are finding it… difficult.
You lie there, prostrated in spirit- and for you, the body is the spirit, so you are bedridden in all truth.
Your battle with your distorted opposite, your equal in strength and almost your antithesis in nature, was long and brutal. At last you got the upper hand on him, but not without cost, not without spilling an ocean of your blood. And reabsorbing his substance has done little to heal your wounds. He is not gone, you can feel that which made him still within you, roiling, trying to change you back into him and reverse the verdict of your battle.
Absently, shoulders bowed, weak and weary, you dropped all the powerful weapons with which you finally struck down your mirror, your grim gray twin, your brother. The weapons were cunning things, but so very heavy, and you are so weary.
Best to sit down for a spell, you think.
Years pass, in which you sit, numb, weak, scarred.
Then the spell you awaited comes.
<click>
What is that? It's electrifying. It's electricity, itself, the faintest echo of a spirit of lightning. Good old Ben couldn't possibly have known the value his 'batteries' of Leyden jars would bring to the ritual in Philadelphia, but you're grateful for it now. Lightning in your veins helps bind you together. And perhaps… something is changing. Something that binds you.
<clang>
Yes, you can feel it. Sinews of iron and pulses of electricity, knitting you together in a way you never were before. The lassitude and weakness, and some of the pain, that you have felt these past four years and more, passes from you. A ceremony of connection, to combat the lingering scars of division.
<CLANG>
The reverberations of another hammer blow send shivers along your spine. You stand. You stretch your arms, spread your fingers, and with your left hand you dip your fingertips into the waters of the eastern sea, while with your right you dig up a handful of sand from the beaches of the uttermost west. Your senses clear. Your destiny clears. You resolve, some day, to fight down the remaining infection within yourself. It is cancer, but it is benign. You can, you believe, contain it. Some day, you will have the strength to end it.
Now what will you need, to make that happen?
Many things, and not all of them can happen fast. But for one, you're going to need an avatar. The minuteman isn't you anymore, isn't this century, and has been horribly perverted anyway. Shredded, almost, by the ritual in Montgomery.
You need a new avatar. You extend your senses, the stranger ones that no language you know can describe.
Somewhere out there a man is standing up to power, armed only with a pen… He is out there, waiting for you to become him. It won't be long. You will recover, and help those who must be helped. You will protect the ideas you were born from, and make your way, perhaps groping blindly in the dark if you must, to the future. The future that is still a misty outline in your mind, where the ideas you are destined to become beckon you. Your fathers could not have imagined them, might have feared them… But you know, on a level beneath thought and speech, that you will make your way there.
And one day, you will clean yourself of these evils and the scars of this division.
This is good. The ending is ominous and I'm not quite sure who the final POV is from (I wanted to guess the Telephone god but I'm not certain). I know Jack is a Graves but I'm really not sure what happened at the end with the evil opposite and such. The Morse code at the end saying DONE, is concerning and is a nice touch. I just wish the bits at the end made more sense to me because I feel like I'm missing something obvious.
