A DISTANT FUTURE .

𝐝𝐜   /   𝐠𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐦   𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞   :   vidya sharma was a name that travelled on the lips of the wealthy and the well studied.   a painter,   renowned for her grand artwork internationally.   vidya was   a socialite   who had cropped up in gotham with little explanation or fanfare.   ever since anyone had known of the woman,  she had lived a quiet but luxurious life.   her riches were chalked up to the masterpieces she sold at infrequent auctions,  and the galleries that popped up in her name.   everyone who was anyone   in gotham had a custom painting made and hung in their living space and each art piece came with a story as vibrant as the piece itself.   although not a recluse,  vidya slinked through crowds without willingly drawing too much attention.   when asked where she had moved from,  there were inconsistencies within her stories.   it was hard to call the woman who greeted everyone with such warmth and hospitality a liar,  even when the facts stared them right in their face.   but she caused little trouble and spread light in a dark room,   so they paid her little mind.

a few years before vidya had made herself known to the public and begun selling her pieces,   talk spread of   a discreet seer   who had made their home in the depths of gotham city.   word spread like wildfire in   a city of secrets,   and many began searching for the one known to conjure visions of the future.   any who had gotten in touch with her spoke highly of the fortune teller.   the poor found wealth,  those struck with misfortune found their stroke of luck,    even rumours of law enforcement   recruiting her help to find convicted criminals had begun to spread.   they knew her as   nazar,   and there seemed to be only one way to get in touch with her.   nazar was a lover of the arts,   and at every other gallery there seemed to be a single painting that haunted its observer.   a dark canvas and a striking pair of eyes,   so lifelike it felt as though one was being watched from the shadows.   for those who wanted to contact the seer,  they would leave a note tucked behind the frame of the painting requesting her service with a simple code phrase   :   open my eyes.   twelve hours later,  the requester would receive a plain brown envelope and in it would be an address.   never the same,  the sender impossible to track.

when meeting nazar,  the requester would find themselves walking through a maze of dark rooms in usually spacious flats.   near pitch black,   they would be guided to a room in the back where she sat waiting for them.   a heavily embroidered veil draped around her head,  leaving nothing visible but her dark eyes.   her fingers adorned with gold jewelry that glinted in the sparsely spread candles in the room.   nazar’s readings were always short,  upwards of an hour at most.   the questions asked had to be   specific,   and she would only answer to her own psychic limits and to address the inquiry laid out before her.   nothing more,  nothing less.   like a shadow lurking in the city,  she watched over its people with neutrality.   never pulled into the atrocities and crime unless her services were asked for.   irregardless of who asked for them.

@bhavidya  asked  :  this  isn't  your  fight.  you  protected  me,  it's  my  turn  to  protect  you.

🌿                                                    “  𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭  𝐛𝐞  𝐚𝐛𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐝.  ”          the  word  sounds  wrong  in  the  drawl  of  her  accent,    too  human  and  not  at  all  divine,    too  mundane  for  the  daughter  of  a  god.      (    she  thinks  back  to  a  time  before  the  other,    when  she  might’ve  been  ashamed  or  embarrassed  of  such  a  human  trait  in  the  presence  of  someone  as  otherworldly  as  she  should  be.    but  her  world  is  not  other,    but  rather  the  one  they  stand  on.    she  can  feel  its  every  quiver  ;    andromeda  knows  she  is  not  otherworldly  in  the  slightest  –  she  is  more  this  earth  than  anyone  on  it  and  her  mother  made  it  so.    )      

      vidya’s  existential  tendencies  made  her  problems  feel  small  as  they  left  andromeda’s  mouth.    to  anyone  else,    they  might’ve  sounded  dire,    life  -  threatening  —  empousas  attacking  the  town,    ancient  automatons  setting  fire  to  the  woods  dangerously  close  to  the  farm,    skewering  rogue  harpies  from  the  clock  -  tower’s  roof  —  but  from  one  demigod  to  a  celestial,    from  one  late  teenager  to  an  immortal,    andromeda  supposes  such  complaints  must  sound  silly.      (    she  supposes  the  danger  must  seem  miniscule  as  well.    these  are  the  tales  she  spins  when  vidya  is  absent,    unable  to  narrate  her  view  otherwise.    )      by  comparison,    that  must  mean  this  problem’s  size  was  drastically  worse  than  anything  andromeda  had  seen  in  her  short  life.    the  earnesty  in  the  other’s  voice  makes  her  start  again  with  protest.

        “  no,    no.    i  don’t  go  lookin’  for  fights,    so  when  my  friends  bring  ‘em  to  my  door,    i  know  they’re  ones  worth  it.    can’t  i  help  ?    i  can  help  !  ”          a  sincere,    distraught  pout  settles  on  her  face.    disappointment,    fear,    an  itch  to  do  something  useful.          “  i  promise  i  can  help.  ”

meme.        

there’s  the  faint  throbbing  of  a  headache  forming  in  the  back  of  her  skull,  and it hammers until her entire head rings like the inside of a church bell.   the last thing she had expected,   for years to come,   was the return of deviants.   five hundred years ago,  she thought she had seen the last of them.   her visions had settled,  and she no longer saw images of the creatures lurking around corners or terrorizing innocent cities.   the world had moved on,   and other disasters lay in its path,  but none like the alien species that once had kept her small family together.   it had become a game of waiting for the last few centuries.   until they would be brought back to olympia where they could   celebrate their victory   and ease themselves into a life they so desperately yearned to go back to.   not all of them had hope that they would go back,    vidya being one of them.   while a small part of her dreamt of a day they would take off on the domo,  back outside of earth’s atmosphere,  the logical side of her knew the unlikeliness of the event.   they were   as much human   as they were celestial at that point.   had roamed the earth for so long that it had become their new home.   now,  with the reason for their mission rearing its ugly head,   there was no end in sight.

it tired her to know that their work had   come undone   with such ease.   it tired her even more to know that she would,   once again,   have to worry about the safety of loved ones.   there’s a hint of pity in the look she spared andromeda.   the girl of a god was meant for bigger things,   and vidya knew that she could feel it in her bones.   wrangling with a deviant was no easy task,  and vidya had heard rumours about what the young demigod could do.   she had chalked it up to talk between superheroes,  whispers among s.h.i.e.ld and other organizations that could never really grasp the   severity   of their situation.   it had taken her witnessing the girl taming the monster to understand where the rumours had stemmed from.   nonetheless,  she didn’t want to put andromeda in harm’s way.   ❝   i know you can,   ❞   her voice was soft in contrast to the strained tone of the younger.   vidya’s hands reached out to gently smooth her hair down,  resting her hands on her shoulders with a small smile.   ❝   and you have,   you’ve helped so much already.   without you telling me,  i might have never known they were back.   ❞