BEYOND YESTERDAYS KNIGHTS.

𝚆𝙾𝚁𝙻𝙳𝙱𝚄𝙸𝙻𝙳𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚆𝙸𝙻𝙻 𝙾𝙲𝙲𝚄𝚁 𝚃𝙷𝚁𝙾𝚄𝙶𝙷𝙾𝚄𝚃 𝙼𝚈 𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙸𝚅𝙸𝚃𝚈. 𝙸'𝙼 𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙸𝚅𝙴 𝚆𝙷𝙴𝙽 𝙸'𝙼 𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙸𝚅𝙴. PERSONAL/NON-RP BLOGS, DO NOT FOLLOW.

dark materials ahead that explore the following: family death, extreme violence, cannibalism (e.g., killer croc.), sensitive criminal cases, body horror, identity issues, religion, transhumanism, substance use (drug / alcohol.), identity + psychological issues (e.g., trauma, profiling, etc.), exploitation, and violation of bodily autonomy (e.g., medical abuse, human trafficking, etc.), corrupt governments (e.g., hypermilitarized police states, political assassination, genocide, etc.), and real-world history.

rules.

she was the first one he thought about when he was in juvie. every time he had a rough time adjusting to life on the inside, overhearing/watching the abuse of the other boys around him by the higher-ups, the face that helped him stay sane was dana's. she was his first childhood friend after charlie, the first to curse the name 'terrible tiny terry' and everything that kid stood for, and the first person to capture his heart and influence him to change.

she was supportive—his biggest cheerleader in fact, always there to whisk him away from bad thoughts and be a listening ear. if anyone taught him about patience and giving people a fair shot, it was her. he struggles with the latter in certain circumstances, but it's because of her kind soul that he tries.

when he returned to civilization, their relationship was almost like before, picking up where they left off two years prior. for a while, they did well. but then batman occupied his time. as they got older, their conversations started to take on a different tone—about scary things, about a future that teru wasn’t sure he could have, so he was never comfortable with even having them. the idea of having a family later, when they were both stable—or at least when he was—became a topic that traveled far ahead of what was happening in his life. teru was just trying to balance a second life, and the idea of 'children of his own' felt like something far off. the guilt was always bottled up and whenever it busted, it burned him up because he knew his desires didn't match hers. she spoke enthusiastically about their future, and he tried to match her energy, but deep down, he was conflicted. questions kept nagging at him.

what if something bad happened to him, leaving his child fatherless like his own father did to him? warren was a good man trying to do the right thing, and yet teru only got 17 years with him—matt, even less. how could he offer his own child a better future when the mcginnis brothers never had the past they deserved? he couldn't bear the thought of his child growing up with the same pain he deals with daily.

then there was the danger: teru's rogue gallery is more ruthless than the original batman's ever was. one big misstep, and that could be his kid's life. that misstep could cost him his soul and spiral him into a darkness he never known about himself. the thought haunted him.

then there is the condition he's inflicted with the splicing incident that left him genetically half-bat. could he even be a father? will his child look like a monster? will they even look human? how will that affect pregnancies? these questions came up more times than his thoughts on what he wanted for breakest at seventeen.

he passed his family studies class with flying colors, but he barely; he kept a computerized baby egg intact by the skin of his teeth. was his success in that class an honest reflection of his future? did making an advanced program of baby humpty dumpty happy as a kid in candy wonderland mean he could actually be a decent father? he didn't want to base his future on a school project, no matter what his teacher said about his success or dana's elation.

dana was, still is, someone he would've risked it all for, despite their on-again, off-again relationship over the years. he felt obligated to keep her safe and make her happy, even though he often fell short of that. he's open, even if it hurts, to letting go of dana too, because eventually, he realized how unfair it was to expect someone to wait around. he never demanded that she stay by his side, but with all the failed promises and the number of excuses that could replace the text in the bible, he might as well have. he took advantage of her without meaning to, stringing her along until the heartstrings popped and the pain was written all over her place.

does he love her? it might be unfair to say, but yes, he does. he will always have love for her, because without dana, the mcginnis family could have been a family of two instead of three. she's a rare soul in a city like neo gotham, and teru always wants to strive to help himself and others, because of her influence.

andrew koji as teru mcginnis. happy belated birthday, teru ( aug 18th. ).

 ❝ aww, had i known that, i woulda lugged the guy who did this with me.❞ he laughed, but winced immediately as the excruciating flare of pain hit, cutting his amusement short. the sharp, stinging stream of tears that welled up made it hard to keep his eyes open. if only my mind hadn't blipped out of orbit in the middle of the match, i'd have walked out with this pretty face intact, he lamented. but it was all part of the plan. kind of.

                  ❝ you would've loved everything about him. i got you on the next one... if you think you could hook me up with a fair discount? ya know, first-time customer—wink, wink? ❞ as he let the question hang in the air, his eyes wandered to the shelves, lined with a monopoly of medicines, most with hard-to-pronounce in different languages. ❝ i take it nothing here is american, doc? taste. my moms would love you. ❞

and a certain old man, but i wasn't going to divulge that.

 ❝ dont be such a twip, you had thirty,❞ teru mumbled, coolly prying the miswak he was chewing on from his mouth. he'd spent the past half hour chewing on the thick twig out of boredom while keeping an eye on his little brother in the privacy of the adjacent room, harping on him about his studies through the holovid. now, done with that, he wondered if tanaga-sensei's newest pupil was finally ready. she had called out for personal reasons, asking teru to fill in for her and test the latest person to join her dojo. what about them she wanted tested, he didn't know.

                  teru had turned his communication devices off, cutting off any distractions. he lifted his black belt from the tatami and fastened it around his waist, securing it tightly over his yellow gi. when teru emerged from beyond the shoji doors, he glanced at the drink he'd prepared for... taro, was that their name? ( you'd think i'd remember that. it's not too far off from my name.) the cup was still practically as full as he'd left it half an hour ago.

                  ❝ unless you want me to tell the hag that you're a three-day monk, what're you even here for, huh? ❞ kairi tanaga isn't the hand-holding type, and while teru isn't her, nor his first mentor, the old hermit, mr. wayne, he's close. ❝ c'mon, man, i don't think you want me to tell her that. drink up. it's only eel juice. in this heat? you'll perform like a machine. ❞ he stood there, arms crossed over his chest, staring at taro seriously, though he couldn't help but feel slightly amused by the thought of the torture he'd already prepped in his head.

batman hated complications—yes, it didn't take him to be sherlock holmes to realize he couldn't be 'the batman' without them, but when those complications turned into surprises that literally laughed in his face? it went without saying that it annoyed all proportions of reasonings out of him. he didn't like to be one-upped nor mocked for it, especially at the expense of lives. when he received word on the resurgence of a particular old pain in his ass, he was obligated to follow up on the tips he was handed after some 'persuasive negotiations'.

                  a part of him wish he hadn't.

                  the sight below must have sent a poisoned phantom fist straight through the belly of his armored layers—bypassing the complex web of reactive fibers that amplified his neuromuscular system—and rotted him with disgust. a knot tightened in his stomach, knocking around like someone was playing handball with it inside. jokerz, he thought. grimaldi gave clowns their first real stage, and the world hasn't been right since.

                  the density of mist obscured most of the shipyard's suspicious activities, blanketing the presence of the colorful dregs with a near-impenetrable void. from his high vantage point, the average naked eye could only perceive looming cranes and groaning hulls, half-swallowed by the ashen cloud.

                  but for batman, the haze was no hindrance. through the sleek, red devil-tinted visor of the batsuit, advanced filtration systems hummed lowly, parsing through the thick fog and peeling back the layers until he achieved picture-perfect clarity with the visual mode of his choice. thermal heat signatures by the hundreds bled around a blued-out backdrop of the shipyard. each living jitter-brained, clown-faced craplet's position was traced, and their conditions logged by the biofeedback sensors.

                  they were all too relaxed and jolly for his liking. it was as if the possibility of being hunted down by the winged black devil of the bright-eyed, soul-weary city was nothing to fret over. a once-frightening, albeit fleeting, thing of the past. they'd sorely be mistaken.

                  feeling slighted aside, he had to wonder beyond the decoded readings over their hearts' micro-fluctuations and investigate why they were so calm and composed, despite being so exposed, in the first place. what was filling them up with so much false sense of security that they felt bold enough to gather in droves, not thinking there'd be any consequence to their curious assclown convention? he had an uncomfortable itch in the back of his head, telling him that there was a nasty devil in the elaborated details in his tips, and he was led to this specific location on purpose.

                  slag it, it wouldn't be the first time i winged it through some stupid plot the bad guys dreamed up, he thought.

movement detected from above.

                  the hairs on the nape of his neck bristled as the a.i.'s voice sounded in his ear ( he made a mental note to check in with grayson later and see if the alfred voice change was available yet.). the batman's neck snapped to the sky, brandishing a pair of batarangs that slid smoothly to his fingers, as per his thought-driven commands of the suit's sophisticated system—his reaction time tuned exponentially past the best of nature's predators, courtesy of the micro-sensors and the neural interface's intimate engagement with his brain.

                  ❝ huh?! ❞ confused, he stared quizzically at the unexpected company descending to him. when he saw who it was, not only did he have more questions, his mind tricked him momentarily into thinking the electromagnetic pads on the soles of his feet ceased working and his legs turned into mushed noodles. obviously, he wouldn't have died if he somehow slipped off the hood of the batmobile, but he wouldn't have been saved from the embarrassment.

                  ❝ slow-pulse with the jump scares, 'queen'. i was almost too quick to give you a free haircut. not your schwayest look, but i think you could've pulled it off. ❞ he half-joked, lowering his arm by his side then. batman erected his posture and the muscles in his shoulders relaxed, but he still held fast to his batarangs. maybe it's the edge of old mentors rubbing off on him—that'd be a guess, and only a guess. personal experiences with heroes entering his city unannounced informed him it's healthy to remain guarded, even against the ones he liked. what was she doing here?

                  ❝ do you wanna know what? that now, i even have more reason to clean up my city's less-than-appealing tourist attractions? i didn't know i'd be playing host to a special guest tonight. you should've given me a ring so i could tidy up the place for you faster. ❞ more complications? just what i needed.

some his villains fucked around and ended up fucking themselves up for life. but teru... he... he just doesn't think about the ramifications that might have on their lives. he doesn't beat himself up with 'what if' questions, like 'what if i hadn't played it like that?', or play 'shoulda, coulda, woulda' when his life and others lives were at stake, and the bad guy screwed up by accidentally scarring/killing themselves. nah. if he's giving you a piggy-back ride, and you try to disrespectfully drop on your back from an elevated place, and batman moves (naturally), resulting in you being a wheelchair for life... well...

good habits:

sociable. he's easy to talk to and he's approachable. it's not difficult for him to make friends with any group, whether they're nerds, jocks, alternative, stoners, techies, outcasts, hustlers, gangstas, or whomever. although, he personally dislike hanging around the affluent crowds, he does have fun at exaggerating their social etiquette and watching them fall for his facade, when he's undercover.

listening (when he wants to) and studying. despite being a hothead who expressed the typical "bad boy" mannerisms when he was a teenager, you could never call him one-dimensional. just as he was street smart, he was book smart too. his studiousness could be attributed to his parents' strictness, but that'd be downplaying his natural penchant for building his understanding of subjects he's interested in. he's well-versed in interdisciplinary studies, including math, history, physics, materials/neuroscience, bio/neuromechanics, aerospace engineering, robotics/mechatronics, a.i., medical science, etc. under bruce's tutelage, he attained extensive knowledge on botany.

ambitious. piggy-backing off the above, while he has a fun with problem-solving, naturally in the detective field, teru desires to be a physician. he's good at crafting and working with non-western medicines.

regular workouts. before becoming batman, he was amazingly flexible and athletic. rigorous strength training, cardio, and frequent participation in various sports such as wrestling, baseball, swimming, diving, archery, and mountain climbing have been his therapy. if he wasn't so tunnel-visioned on medicine, then becoming a olympian would've had his heart.

protective. this seesaws over the borders of 'good' and 'bad' because while the first thought of possessing such a quality is appreciable, depending on the circumstances, he can be insufferable. it stems from all the losses he took in his life. the murder of his father, charlie's betrayal and untimely death, matt's near-permanent jokerization, working under dangerous corporate tyrants like derek powitz, the kidnappings of his loved ones, ace's abuse, and other life-changing events made him uncomfortable with his people involving themselves in a situations he believes he should be able to handle.

open-minded. for example, if he's seeing someone is willing to make an effort to change their life around, he's not above giving them a shot. the way he lived his own life years ago, there was a time he believed if it was possible he could make it to see twenty. he never liked talking about it, but if it helped him reach out to other troubled individals, he would (and has.).

humble. the city he protected sold him out and at times, have worked against him. it stung like hell, and it has added to the weight he carries in his soul, but to quote him, "small rewards are the best ones". if he helped at least one person live to see another day, and or was responsible for changing somebody's life around for the better, then he isn't looking for worship and public adoration.

bad habits:

emotional control. in his early batman days, it was his age, and traumatic experiences that affected his performance. it became progressively worse when his dna was spliced with vampire bat by dr. cuvier. while he has a better handle on it in presently as an adult, it's an affliction that keeps him mindful of his emotions.

judgmental. i mentioned earlier that he's openminded, he is, but there are still things out there he's biased against. first off all, jokerz. he understands how a problematic background can lead to dramatic and destructive decisions, but wearing clown makeup is... a choice. then, there's the chimera movement... i'll get more into this later.

vindictive. 'an eye for an eye can make the whole world blind', but teru will watch those who wronged him choke before his world goes black. he feels no remorse for the accidental killing of his father's murderer, nor for disfiguring mr. powers--the man who plotted it, in the first place. he doesn't shame himself for feeling absolved over the death of dr. abel cuvier, the geneticist responsible for teru's body and leaving him with an unchangeable condition.

vices. he's slowly weening off of cigarettes and caffeine consumption, and trying to tolerate the taste of miswaks and mushroom coffee to replace the need.

selfish. he's only human. sometimes he wants to tune out and get lost somewhere, far away from the expectations and drama. he may shut down, put his phone in vibrate, and decompress in whatever activity that gives him temporary joy.

disrespectful. he wasn't big on authority growing up. in his mind, there was no such thing as a good cop until he met barbara gordon. outside of his general opinion on law enforcement, he just has a mouth on him. it annoys people close to him and enemies alike.

argumentative. if he's passionate about a topic, the person on the other hand might be able to save themselves if they're able to come up with the most logical brain-busting response, it gives teru pause and a chance to reassess everything. it's not that he doesn't like to be wrong—he just believes in his heart.

i can go on, but stopping here for now.

an african game hunter who once attempted to poach him had fittingly dubbed batman ' the dark demon of the concrete jungle ' during their first encounter. he couldn't have been more right.

as the dark knight and teru, he navigates neo-gotham like he owns the night (and you couldn't tell him otherwise). he's a natural creature of the urban landscape, freely moving through the streets and uncovering new knowledge about her, with a passionate interest, despite the looming dangers. while it was impossible to see the stars at night, every corner blasted him with neon lights. and he felt the rush from the thrumming activity pumping life into his body. being caught up in the mix of a sleepless city was like having an extra heart that was being routinely overworked.

even when he was stealing bikes and traversing the highways at breakneck speed in his youth, he was captivated by the illuminated skyscrapers, never once sparing a thought about the skyglow that drowned out the imagination of the intergalactic marvels beyond the city.

his neo-gothic sandbox was strange, deranged, and religiously transformative, as though its technological metamorphosis was the work of a cult worshiping a technophilic death god. it was scary like that. but teru, having spent too much time in solitary confinement due to constant squabbles in juvie, couldn't stand the idea of being cooped up at home, living life like a homebody. the very thought was suffocating. he enjoys getting lost in neo-gotham's dark beauty, breathing in its oppressive air as he gradually learns about the burgeoning tech that's dominating the city's identity while carving out his role as its protector.

that being said, even neo-gotham, the home that he can easily get lost in, can feel limited and is. it was because of his nocturnal 'job' that he was granted more opportunities than he had fingers to see the outside world. he dreams of a long vacation in a warm, fragrant setting like tahiti or bora bora. neo-gotham had her beaches, but burying his bare toes and fingers in white sands and having the chance to inhale natural air, in front of the sight of crystal-clear waters was a golden dream of his. bungalows, idyllic shorelines, and waterfalls? he would like to see it.

teru imagined it would be the time he had a chance to spend quality time with dana tan (or verse-dependent love interest) without answering the call that seemed to make him feel less human and more robotic as time went on. he wanted to be positioned in a comfortable place where he no longer had to break his heart or hers. a rich tropical paradise that offered serenity and colors that starkly contrasted the artificial lights that lit up a cold, metallic world is possible for him—it has to be. because he refuses to let his life fall into doom and gloom, replicating his predecessor. he won't deny himself connections and the chance to enjoy the sun and actually see the stars with his loved ones.