TOTAL ECLIPSO THE HEART [modplot/log]

[letsgolegion]

Who| Everyone who signed up
What| "Total Eclipso The Heart"
Where| Apokolips
When| The same time as "The Ninth Gate" and "The Gone-Away World"
Warnings/Notes| cw: suicide, due to the Catastrophists MO


Apokolips was intimidating enough when it was bleak and dead but now it's even more of a living nightmare. As Eclipso, Catastrophists, and monsters menace the defense garrison, screams cut through the air the way they used to back when Apokolips' old ruler was alive.

Catastrophists toss themselves into the firepits in droves and smoke starts to rise from them. Somehow their sacrificial bloodshed seems to be doing something to the core of the planet. It groans and strains and the ground shakes as machinery under the surface starts to slowly get stoked back to life.

Some of the Catastrophists even rise into the air while wearing winged uniforms and clash with garrison members capable of flight - Apokolips' old parademon troops, reborn in a new form.

This world is a death engine, and if they don't manage to stop it it from restarting, Chronoblivion's forces will have an entire world to make war from.

Comments

[truefaceofthelaw]

An Abstract Child flits closer to Rich, alarmingly close before it snatches back, giggling in the wind. Next time it lunges forward, it won't just be teasing.

"What, and you'd think I'd know any 'Happy Funtime Gymboree'?" Rico replies sardonically. Whatever the hell that means. "I don't know any lullabies! You think the Academy would allow me to hear that? So unless you want be part of a new finger painting, out with it!"

If it really comes down to it, Rico's already thinking of a tiny strain of music in the back of his head. A melody that he knows, that he caught on the Tri-D display in the Mega-Mega-Mall while he was on one of his jaunts. But he's not quite sure if that would count as a lullaby...

Just that second, an Abstract Child creeps just that little bit closer to Rico and tries to 'tag' him. Rico ducks under the attempt, but the next one scores a slash down his uniform despite him throwing himself to the side. He backs into Rich and snags his other arm, shouting into his ear.

"Try!"

[iamresponding]

Of course it's down to him. They've criminalized fun where Rico's from. With how much of a hot mess his and America's universe is, there's no way Rico's going to be able to find inner reserves of whimsy.

Shit shit shit.

"Uuuh. Rock-a-bye baby on the treetop," he sings, wildly out of tune. "When the wind blows, the cradle will rock. When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall. And down will come baby, cradle and all."

It's very obviously not working. One of the children darts forward and slices his thigh right through his uniform before he manages to blast it back.

He can't tell if it's because he can't sing for beans or ... wait. Wait, he knows what it is. The feeling's wrong. He can't just recite a lullaby at them like a spell, these creatures feel like...like they're made of ideas. And feelings. And even though these little monsters very obviously want to turn them inside out, they also want to be put to sleep the same way little kids do when they're the ones scared of monsters. He can't just shout musical words at them, he has to comfort them to sleep, like they're actual kids.

He has to comfort them as he puts them out of their misery.

The idea of that, that something made these twisted things so malformed that all they want is to be comforted to death, causes something to pang in his chest, and that feeling helps. It's a road that leads outside the soldier mentality, and that means something finally clicks, and he remembers. His mother'd never sung normal lullabies. She'd always sung lullabies from things like musicals, like stuff from the Sound of Music. Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens...

But this was the one that always made his heart ache a little, as if he somehow knew, even as a small child, that life would never get that simple again. The song is still a little out of tune but there's more feeling behind it and the more morose sound to it is something he can manage better.

"Summertime, and the livin' is easy
Fish are jumpin' and the cotton is high
Oh, your daddy's rich and your ma is good-lookin'
So hush, little baby, don't you cry..."

This seems to be working better. The little stick children slowing down and swaying in place as they listen.

"Hum with me," Rich says quickly under his breath. "It's the same melody every verse."

Hum if you want to live, Rico.

[truefaceofthelaw]

Rico has zero objections to that if it'll keep him alive. Even if he's acting as Nova's backup singer. Out of sheer self-preservation, he starts humming with him. He picks up the melody fairly quickly, and his voice isn't half bad, rumbling and gravel-deep as it is. But that isn't strictly the problem.

It's the feeling behind it. His involvement seems to make the Abstract Children agitated and restless again, some stirring from their half-slumber. It could be the sentiment behind it, grudging and only just technical. Rico notes this with some slight mental surprise, and starts humming harder. It doesn't help.

Drokk. What is it that Rider is doing that Rico isn't?

There's something undefinable in Rider's voice, in his expression, something Rico can't quite pin down. That must be it. The secret behind how he's doing it. But what is it? He rakes his mind as he quietly puzzles at it, staring at Rider with an intent focus, but suddenly something just clicks, shifts mental gears, and an entire world opens up for him. He gets it and it's right there like a diamond in a safe, bright and shining in his mind's eye, and he darts forward and snatches at it with eager hands.

And suddenly, whatever the hell Rider is feeling, Rico's feeling it too. There's his own ache in his chest (except it's not his - not really) that makes him feel horribly uncomfortable and strangely jealous, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling with unease. The ghost of the love that Rider's feeling settles badly in the hollow of his throat, but the melody manages to come out of him with genuine emotion even as his thoughts are jumbled and alarmed and confused.

As the lullaby progresses, some of the Abstract Children settle, and lie still.

They don't get back up.