i. he who now is sov'reign.

‘     bourbon  ?     ’               without  a  moment’s  wait  ,     the warm liquor  glugged  from its bottleneck  ,     and into two glasses  .               ‘     i trust a  homely  kentucky mash’ll do you  .     i do hope the highlife hasn’t refined your   palette  ,     has it  ,     tony  ?     ’               setting the bottle aside  ,     he lifted the glasses  ,     handing one off to his conglomerative associate  .               ‘     now  ,     down to the  nitty - gritty  of the matter at hand  ,     i suppose  .     ’               he took a seat  ,   limply waving his hand off to the armchair beside his own  .   crossing one leg over the other  ,    he hummed a giggle  ,    sipping at his drink  .               ‘     but first  :     did you know that  yuri andropov  spent his  entire  term hooked up to a  dialysis machine  ?     apparently     .  .  .     he was the most switched - on  man in  moscow  .    ’

❝   TATERS ?   ❞     brows rise incredulously,   fingers clinging on to gelid bars  –  knuckles blanched an ever paler shade,  almost anticipating the electric sensation he’ll supply her with if she is deemed uncooperative.   ❝  nobody said anythin’ ‘bout taters.  take a good look, zuckerberg.  ain’t many privileges out here.     ❞    she eases into a bargain,   ❝   but’choo look like you’d be willin’ to grant me some.  you know,  ‘cause a big guy comin’ all the way in from metropolis doesn’t visit lil’ ol’ harley quinn without wantin’ in on the game.    ❞   reptilian,  she cants her head – digits drumming on to the bars before them, half swinging.    ❝   y’wanna cut to th’ chase,  big shot  ?   did’ja come here to play              or is the zoo back in metropolis closed  ?   ‘cause i know it definitely ain’t for the taters.     ❞

THREE  WEEKS.     three god damn weeks.     give or take.     a part of her   —-   the majority   —-  detests the humiliation of hanging like a slab of atrophying meat,      the other,     however,     is just grateful that she hasn’t had to deal with any broken bones or open wounds surpassing a few scratches.      truth be told,     she can handle it & starvation equally well,     MENTALLY,     but there’s little doubt in her mind that she would have been dead by now if she’d sustained the former.      a good sign,    then,    that her captor wants her ALIVE.      the bastard.     she hopes the next hired thug that brings her water brings her a steak to boot.       or at least something her weakened stomach won’t reject.      three weeks without food & with very little water,     it’s a surprise she can still think this straight.     the joints of her bound wrists ache with pressure & lack of use,      & the rest of her body has grown stiff in its straight hanging,     barely a dangle of a voluntary movement from it in days.       three weeks,     & not a single peep.     really,    she hopes mr. luthor hasn’t forgotten about her.

eyes that have grown accustomed to the darkness blink in shock & squeeze shut in pain as lights flare on,     illuminating the white washed & sound proof walls of the room she doesn’t remember even seeing before the first time she woke up shrouded in darkness.      she hears the metal door slide open,     & the steps of a single man  (  much lighter & more delicate than the usual thug )   following soon after.      she takes advantage of the time it takes for whoever it is to approach her to adjust her eyes,     slowly blinking them open though her head remains bowed.     it would be a lie to say she isn’t surprised by her own appearance,     as much as she was EXPECTING it.       her ribs are visible,     as are her hip bones,     & her stomach has begun its retreat to her spine.     she thinks,    with a certain sorrow not meant for herself,     how she hasn’t been this starving since  LENINGRAD. 

❝     well,    well.     if it isn’t the boy billionaire,     finally come back to play with the toy he forgot he was given for christmas.     ❞      her voice rasps with lack of use,     but her words come wit has much tired venom as she intends.      ❝     tell me,     what have you been up to all this time ?     it’s been awfully lonely in here.     not even your boys will touch me.    ❞     finally,     does she lift her head once her eyes have become accustomed to the light again.     & it is with a LAUGH,     baring teeth all the more feral due to her gauntness,     that she addresses her captor.     ❝     it’s not nice to leave a girl  HANGING  like this,     alexander.    ❞

/ &*    ALUTHOR

HE STAYED SILENT,     his delicate thumb held against his lips as he approached.  she was a curious pet project.  one that interested him to a limited extent,   and one that threatened him even less so.   but still,  she was curious.   her dossier expansive,   her notorieties considered,   the agent would prove a useful paper doll  ;   if,  of course,  she would not be crushed under the weight of her  ‘sharpening’.  though lex had faith in her ability to endure.     she was russian,   after all.

‘  NATASHA,       you don’t have to keep this up.    i’ve seen the records.    you don’t have to prove to me that you’re a warrior  ;   one that’s notorious for their quick wit and staunch bravado.  i’ve read it all before.  ’          his voice lacked its usual,   affected  gaiety,   the tone that settled uncertainties and wariness,   the tone that lulled business associates and governmental officials alike into a state of ease.    he’s just a kid.   some trust-funded prodigal with not enough experience to even foster ill intent.     it had proved itself to be a hugely useful prejudice.

‘  I THOUGHT WE COULD REMINISCE. i found a few home movies.  self reflection doth pave the way  to greatness,  hm?  ’          a remote,  the one that belonged to the projector beside her,  waggled between middle finger and thumb,  a smug and childish grin between his pressed lips.   turned on,  it spins the images into motion,  faster and faster until at their consistent speed.

            ‘ lex. ‘  his name, of course, but not the one she tends to call him by. a small change amid larger ones, a sort of knowing look in her eye. hands are threaded together, the pair gently resting atop crossed legs, gaze slanted upward at him from her sitting position.  ‘ sit, won’t you ?  i’m sure there’s a lot on your mind. ‘  

THIS  META  IS  MEANT  TO   highlight the significance of the philosophical and theological dilemma of the   ‘  inconsistent triad ;  ’   specifically in relation to the variation that symbolises the inconsistency of an all-powerful  ( omnipotent ),  all-loving/good  ( omnibenevolent ),  god existing alongside evil,  when concerned with the character lex luthor.    j. l. mackie,  an australian scholar,  drew attention to the idea that the   problem of evil   can be assessed using the triad. 

WHEN  LEX  STATES   that    ‘  if god is  all-powerful,  he cannot be  all-good.  and if he is  all-good,  then he cannot be  all-powerful,  ’    it is clear that he suggests this in relation to the triad.  applying the logic of god to superman,  lex argues that superman approaches evil in one of these three ways :   1. )   superman is both  all-powerful  and  all-good,  meaning that the existence of evil  is  an  impossibility,   which  is  evidently untrue,   2. )   superman is only  all-powerful  and,  due to his lack of  omnibenevolence,  allows evil / pain / suffering  to exist,  thus becoming  unworthy of worship,  or   3. )   he is only  all-good  and,  due to his lack of omnipotence,  he cannot prevent evil from existing,  and thus is not truly powerful enough to be called  god.

I BELIEVE THAT    lex  sought to  highlight  these deficiencies throughout the film,  namely  through  the situations he organised in superman’s name.  at the film’s start,  we see that the burning/murder of the villagers in nairomi is executed by anatoli knyazev and a number of other mercenaries hired by luthor to frame superman.  in presenting the massacre as if the villagers were murdered by superman,  whether  intentionally  or not,  both conclusions of the triad can be interpreted.  either   1. )   superman actively killed these people,  and  is  not all-good,  or   2. )   he could not do anything to prevent their death.   a second instance is seen in the middle of the film at the senate hearing.  having  organised  the  bomb  plot,  lex  once  more  raises  questions  regarding the  omnipotence of superman,  as he could do nothing to prevent the deaths of all those present.

        the dismissal does not escape HIS ATTENTION, but the file draws most of it; the photographs of carol - at work, with the kids at a park, getting out of her car - does nothing to make him want to squeeze this little fucker’s eyeballs out of his head any less, but it does draw up an interesting question. does luthor know it’s not phil he SHOULD BE AFRAID OF? ( there’s a small shred of satisfaction when lex neglects to say her name again. little victories. )    “   it’s funny you think threatening her is going to do anything to me. i’m just a man, pretty plain as they come. but carol? SHE CAN SWALLOW THE SUN. so good luck threatening her, big guy.  “   phil grins, satisfied, and makes for the door.

mindless  echoes  tessellate  a   grievous  ruin   ,   a  smattering  of  constellations  to  implode  around  a  constructed  facade   ,   hoping  -   praying   a  saviour  to  save  her  from  this  dreaded  confrontation   .   instead  she  turns  to  meet  a  seal  to  her  escape   ;   utterly  alone   ,   utterly  alone   .   yet  unknowingly  she  had  once  again  played  the  part   ,   with  an  innocent  tilt  of  the  head  and  the  softened  tone  of  a  morning  lark      (   was  she  to  fall  into  the   risk   and  his  trap  once  more   ?   )      :

                                                                         ❝      tony’s  type      ?    ❞       mindlessly  she  echoes   ,   a  foretelling  of  the  work  to  follow   ,   pray  she  only  had  the  adroited  skills  of  the  other   .

       PHIL SEETHED, on his feet in as long as it takes to suck in a hateful breath.       “  i’d suggest getting my wife’s name out from behind your teeth, or else i’m gonna kick them down your throat.  “      there’s no doubt in his eyes, either, a clear intent – it’s not empty. it’s plain fact.        “  and for the record, you’re not my SUPERIOR. you just happen to be flavour of the week.  “       this isn’t wise, but his blood is up now and rage boils under the surface only barely hidden. jumped up little shit.