it probably says something either sad or deeply unfortunate about me as a person, but I'm darkly amused to see some people react to the reveal of the ultimate permeability of souls in tlt as a triumphant thing -- the "you can't take 'loved' away!!!" side of it all -- when my first reaction was such an immediate wave of 'oh, oh so this is why this series is horror, I truly understand now' distress haha. ngl the final confirmation of the self not being inviolable in the deepest way freaks me the fuck out far more than any moment of body horror in the series has managed. (these two elements are of course the two sides of one thematic coin; it's about the horror of our bodies and minds and selves not being inviolable things, and about the effect of violence on them on so many different levels. violence psychological and interpersonal, physical, subtextually sexual, emotional, medical, political, a whole unlovely smörgåsbord of indignity and violation a person can be exposed to, and on a broader scale the spectrum of violence colonialism wields). The world and other people being capable of leaving indelible marks on us for good or ill through their presence in our lives is of course a pretty self-evident demonstrable truth in the real world, but somehow having it be proven metaphysically just uh. Fucks me up!
It also drives home to me just how perfectly Muir has captured the dilemma at the heart of human connection and intimacy: the fact that the thing that gives us life and meaning is also capable of harming us so deeply. the same thing that can be so beautiful — even in a bittersweet, violently transformative form like with the creation of Paul — when done mutually and consensually and compassionately, is the same process that means someone like John can touch someone else's soul and 'after he's put his fingers on something, you'll never find anyone else's fingerprints on it; too much noise'. I think the text itself — the whole series, because to me this is what it is ultimately about, this tension between individuation/self vs. love/connection/enmeshment — is far more ambivalent in its treatment of it than saying it’s inherently a good thing or inherently a bad thing. The only thing it says for sure is that it is always a thing, that thinking you’re ever getting away from it is the height of futility, and that through being alive (or even through being dead lol) it is something you have to engage with in some way no matter what. Contact with other people is deeply necessary — without it we sicken and die. it can be the most beautiful and meaningful thing in a human life, and the most unspeakably horrific. All of these people are searching for some way to be whole, whether in total self-contained sufficiency on their own or in melding with someone else as their ‘other half’, and stumbling around in the dark they reach for each other and score deep wounds into the thing they’re trying to touch even when they don’t mean to. Taken to horrific extremes with the form of lyctorhood John guided his disciples to when they were ‘children — playing in the reflections of stars in a pool of water, thinking it was space’, because while people hurt each other all the time with differing levels of intentionality behind it, what John did was deliberate. It weaponizes the misapprehension of what closeness must be and destroys everyone involved in the process… and all because it leaves John the one sun their ruined lives have left to orbit around, because that’s the closest thing his soul will allow to connection. He doesn’t understand that to truly touch something you have to truly let it touch you back, and then wonders why he’s never satisfied.
‘The horrors of love’ has been memed to death, I know, but… yeah. That is what it is, isn’t it.
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Ghost Blood
Bad things happen to good people
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The Justice League and the Justice League Dark had met to discuss something extremely important and confidential: the end of the world.
While this was something they faced on a weekly basis, this time it was different. It had started when the chaos lords found an ancient ritual to gain power, and multiple villains joined them to complete the requirements. Klarion, who had noticed that the spell was going to end the world sooner or later, informed the heroes.
The problem was that the spell was already underway, and it was a process that could not be stopped. They had a couple of hours left before all the known horrors in the universe would take an interest in Earth.
The Justice League Dark was overworked, all of them looked extremely exhausted. Even Deadman offered to help but there was little he could do. As they discussed how to proceed, Constantine grabbed an old spell book he was leafing through and angrily threw it to the ground, catching everyone's attention.
"Bloody hell" the Brit glared at the ground angrily "so fucking close".
His companions asked him what was going on, to which Constantine informed them that there was a solution to their current problem. Some sort of powerful cancelation spell that would solve their problems. He saw their hopeful faces and sighed, he supposed he should break their hopes sooner than later.
"We can't use it" the Hellbazer said wearily.
"Why not?" Wonder Woman looked at him frustrated "if it's the only option, surely we can-"
"We can't use it because one of the ingredients doesn't exist!" Constantine blurted out, furious. He had analyzed all the options and that was the only one that might work, but the essential ingredient was missing.
"The spell requires ghost blood" John commented after calming down, desperation could be heard in his voice "but ghosts don't have blood, their blood is ectoplasm, it's impossible!"
Deadman had suddenly gone silent.
"There would have to be a hybrid or something but clearly they don't exist, it's too unlikely."
The League, which had previously perked up at the possible solution, sank back in disappointment. Zatanna, however, noticed the ghost's reaction and watched him curiously.
"...What if it's possible?" Deadman's voice was heard in the silence. Constantine had made him visible to the others during the investigation but the ghost was not used to the attention.
"It's not, it's not possible to combine life and death, the balance would have been broken one way or another" Constantine denied.
"John, what if it's possible?" Deadman repeated "what if a hybrid exists?"
What if the hybrid is the balance?
"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" Constantine observed his friend. Ghost blood was a myth, mentioned in many books but never used.
"Don't get too excited" the ghost warned "there is a hybrid with that kind of blood but he's not-, he doesn't trust humans anymore, for a very good reason."
"However, he does exist" Wonder Woman said in disbelief "can you tell us more?"
Deadman looked around at the nearly destroyed dimension and begged the Ancients for forgiveness for what he was about to do.
"He was born by the Realms and for the Realms, he's a good boy" Deadman sighed, revealing the secret he was never supposed to mention "but as you well know, bad things happen to good people."
The ghost thought of the communique that had reached all the ghosts. On how the Ancients had taken in a child, how they had demanded that he needed to be left alone.
"It's not my place to say what happened" and he didn't have many details either, though gossip traveled fast "but he doesn't trust anyone beyond his guardians, he hates adults and he's scared of needles and other medical instruments, I don't think he'll be much help."
"We have to try, there's not much time left" Batman frowned. Something inside him stirred at the mention of an injured child "Can you tell us where he is?"
"The Infinite Realms" Constantine replied instantly, lighting a cigarette, his hands were shaking "But who are his guardians?"
"The Ancients" Deadman replied "and if you want their help, you really must come up with a plan."
It was obvious that only the Justice League Dark had understood the implications of all this, they were pale and looked scared. Even Dr. Fate and Marvel looked like the end of the world had been confirmed.
"I can take you there" the ghost said, nostalgic at the thought of visiting the dimension "time doesn't work the same there, so you won't spend much time even if it takes weeks to get close, but you can't all go, you'll scare him off"
"We'll go" Captain Marvel spoke up, overcoming his fear "if it's the only option, we'll go."
Little did they know that from the Infinite Realms the Master of Time was watching them with a raised eyebrow. The Ancient shook his head, knowing he should prepare for visitors before heading to the couch next to his screens. Danny was reclining there, sipping hot chocolate and bundled up in one of his cloaks.
The halfa greeted him looking relaxed but Clockwork wouldn't be fooled by that (he could still see the boy, his boy, with his chest wounded, crying for help), he reached over to stroke his protégé's hair affectionately, thinking of ways to get rid of his visitors. While Danny was likely to want to help, he couldn't care less about what happened to that dimension.
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