MOVED

no i do think about the implication--or rather, fact--that the new gods are huge. colossal, by comparison to earth. it was stated in a supergirl comic; but the reason why you need to go through boom/hush tubes to get to the fourth world is because there is a size manipulation that needs to take place as you pass into another reality to get there which makes you proportionate. otherwise, if you get to the fourth world any other way, you're going to be tiny. there's a likely implication that if a new god were to go to earth through a different method than a boom tube, they would be huge.

🤝 spaceguys

that time was different. this is worse.

" well— you know more in this case! " a lift of his head to scan around the scene, then turn back to the archer. he could get out of any situation, could escape anything—everything! and yet he couldn't do it without any knowledge; knowledge that he was bound to learn one way or another. but the new god had the flexibility of a motherbox, of being more than human in physiology. he could risk a few shots, he could risk being damaged. he wasn't so sure how durable his friend here was by comparison! and giving him motherbox wasn't currently an option.

there's no harm in a little kindness.

" ah hah! i agree with you—! " a low laugh echoing from his throat while the escape artist sat crouched in his own sort of workshop of technology. some advanced, some simply traps to escape from for the next show; others from apokolips—or new genesis. others just...things he picked up, or were gifted. old things of thaddeus; the original mister miracle. currently, however, scott sat with a piece of fabric from his constume splayed out with motherbox circuitry being meticulously stitched into it. he had been integrating the technology into his suit since...really before he was so invested! he figured he should do some more...especially with a possible change of scenery.

his laugh faded the more he thought of it; the less focused he was on what his hands were doing, pressing small tools against each piece and his attention split between clint and the quiet pingsof motherbox, giving little helpful tips and directions.

" —but where i was raised! oh the horrors of apokolips would consider even a little bit of kindness to be the equivalent of being hit by a megarod! or, i suppose, shot with a gun in the arm! blasphemy incarnate, really. straight to the x-pit! or the firepits, that was never fun... "

how he reminisced in a way that seemed almost like he was talking about his experience riding a bike as a kid, or going to some kind of summer house or camping. even if the context of his stories were less play and more torture. that was just how apokolips was, it was how the orphanages were. how they still are.