Violeta Mallki | Wari

Violeta smiles wryly at hearing Batgirl continue to try to mix Spanish with her English.

"It's okay, you don't have to speak in Spanish for me. I want to practice my English more."

Now having been acquainted, the shaman turns back and squats once more, her fingers raking through the soil as she digs for more spoils of the earth.

Violeta hums as she considers Batgirl's gentle warning. It sounded more like advice than a hard rule in her head.

"Ah, don't worry! I don't just take. I give back, too."

Without looking up from the ground, she digs into her pockets and grabs a small handful of mixed seeds; all harvested and collected from other plants she's found around the city.

"What kind of person would I be if I didn't take without giving back?"

Considering the subject of her trespassing concluded, she moves on in conversation.

"Ahh... how should I put this..." she tries to formulate her words as she covers up the seeds in the disturbed patches of soil.

How could she put "the front line wasn't doing a good enough job in keeping up the boundaries between realms, so I had to leave my home to figure out what was going wrong and lend my help," without sounding condescending?

"My duty is both to the spirit and mortal realms. These past few years, I've been feeling... uneasy about the breaches of one into the other. The natural order wasn't being properly maintained... so I had to leave my home to make sure that things don't escalate in the future."

She thought it was a pretty polite way to say that the current magic front needed to do a better job.

"I go where my goddess takes me. She told me to hang around here for a while."

Violeta pats down the soil where the seeds were sown and casts a water spell to dampen the earth. She begins to gather her harvest, seemingly concluding her communion with this piece of land.

“Fair enough. English it is.”

A small smile tugs at my lips as I watch her scatter seeds back into the soil. Okay. That is definitely not the answer I was expecting. Most people justify trespassing. Most people don’t explain their ecological repayment system. I glance between the disturbed earth and the seeds she’s planting.

“You know, I was fully prepared to give you a lecture about property laws.”

I point at the ground.

“But that’s actually a surprisingly solid philosophy.”

My amusement fades into curiosity as she begins explaining why she’s in Gotham. The further she talks, the more my detective instincts start quietly lighting up. Spirit realm. Breaches. Natural order. A goddess. Under normal circumstances, those would be some pretty major red flags. The problem is that in Gotham, and especially in my line of work, those aren’t necessarily insane statements. I’ve personally dealt with enough magical disasters to know better than to dismiss them. So instead of laughing, I listen. Carefully. When she mentions being guided by her goddess, I fold my arms.

“That’s… a pretty big responsibility.”

My gaze follows the motion of her hands as she dampens the soil. I don’t visibly react to the spell. Mostly because I’ve learned that acting surprised around magic users only encourages them. Internally? Different story. Because that’s definitely magic. Not a trick. Not stagecraft. Actual magic. Of course Gotham attracts another one. I push off the fence.

“So let me see if I’ve got this right.”

I start counting on my fingers.

“You’re a shaman.”

One finger.

“You can apparently do real magic.”

Two.

“You’re concerned about supernatural breaches affecting both worlds.”

Three.

“And you’re following instructions from a goddess who specifically told you to come to Gotham.”

Four. I stare at my hand. Then at her. Then back at my hand.

“To be honest, I’ve heard worse introductions.”

A laugh escapes me. The city has done permanent damage to my standards. My expression softens after a moment.

“But if what you’re saying is true…”

I glance toward Gotham’s skyline in the distance.

“… then you’re not the first person who’s noticed something strange.”

That part isn’t a joke. Too many weird incidents. Too many magical disturbances. Too many cases that don’t fit neatly into any normal explanation. I’ve seen enough reports to know there’s a pattern, even if I can’t fully see the shape of it yet. My eyes return to her.

“So your goddess sends you here.”

I tilt my head.

“And what exactly did she tell you about Gotham?”

I pause for a moment.

“Because if the answer is ‘everything is fine’, then I think your goddess owes somebody a refund.”

Violeta follows Batgirl's gaze to the skyline, but looks back at the redhead when she fails to see something out of the ordinary. She can only blink at her line of questioning.

"I was told nothing about Gotham," she explains, shoving her gathered herbs into her pockets, "I was just told to be here."

Violeta walks to the fence and briefly shapeshifts into a snake to slither through the gap in the fence, retaking her human form once on the other side.

"Spirits don't always follow human logic or reasoning. They only provide just enough to get things where we need to be. Such is the way of the Universe," she muses with a casual shrug of her shoulders.

Wari was no more than an instrument of divine will. Who was she, a mortal girl, to question or doubt the will of the divine? As Wari, she knew well that not all humans could easily accept fate, especially if it were spelled out for them, so she understood it was better for everyone if she moved along with minimal information. Everything that she might ever need would be provided in due time. She didn't have to worry about a thing; she had faith.

"It was an honor to cross paths with you, Batgirl!" she waves cheerily, voice bright with genuine joy, "Keep up the great work!"

Violeta turns round and marches off, as if that were a fine conclusion to their interaction. Her strange approach to social situations and life had much to do with her philosophy, spirituality, and culture, all of which were deeply ingrained in her being. It might be easy to grow frustrated with her if she weren't so obviously good-natured and naive.

The shaman ambles down the road, humming a melody to herself when her eyes land on a patch of wild raspberries. Score! Without a second thought, she slips through another fence and happily begins harvesting the berries.

Violet takes a deep breath, letting the air fill her lungs and ground her. Both Halos and Arabella were still unsure and wary, which was natural when meeting someone new. Her first objective was to establish a friendship first.

"Que bacán, me parece una forma increíble de autoexpresión, Halos. Que lindo que tanto su hermano como usted sean tan áviles y creativos. Me da envidia."

She thought it was amazing to have such a lovely and personal shared interest with a brother. Violeta was an only child herself, but still treasured the memories she had of learning traditional medicine with her grandmother. Family was something she deeply valued.

"Thank you, Arabella. I did my best to make it comfortable. Please feel free to leave whenever you'd like; you're not obligated to stay here by any means." With that, she softly closes the door and strides into her living area.

"So it would seem you both have brothers then?"

She gestures for them to get comfortable in the space she prepared, whether it be on the couch or the nest of blankets and pillows she had on the floor. She briefly disappears into her kitchen to turn off the stovetop, then sits down on the floor herself.

"Your brother was very kind to let you borrow his clothes for tonight," she lightheartedly jabs at Arabella, knowing she probably took them without asking.

"Though I do have to confess, you both are much younger than what I was expecting... I sincerely apologize, but I cannot conduct an Ayahuasca ceremony with you two in good faith. It would go against my morals and values."

She bows her head and holds her hand over her heart as she earnestly apologizes and explains.

"You both came all this way... it was my mistake for assuming and not asking. I'm afraid I still have much to learn about the internet and modern society."

Maywa... this is boring. Why don't you mess with them a little?

The shaman ignores the goddess whispering in her ears.

"But, I don't want you two to have come here in vain. If you'd like, I could read your tarot cards? I could also fix you both a relaxing tea, or, if I don't bore you, we can just talk."

Violeta hopes she doesn't lose their interest, though she wouldn't blame them if she did. Tarot readings usually captured the imagination of most non-magicians, and it could be just the starter they needed to open a deeper conversation. She just didn't want to scare them off. She really wanted to help them.

At first, Arabella was ticked off at the rejection but the then apology made her soften ever so slightly. She could tell it was genuine. The woman was clearly new to Gotham. “It is alright. If anything I can admire that you stick to your values so clearly. It is… A good trait to have.”

She mulled Violeta’s words in her head. Something about the woman seemed off. The slight delay between her sentences that seemed fitting for another conversation. Or maybe Arabella herself was just too used to being around people with hallucinations and was projecting onto her. She wouldn’t put that outside the realm of possibility.

“I don’t mind tarot. I dun- I don’t know about Angel but I’m due for mine. My normal reader got arrested for something or other and I’ve hardly had time to bail her out. Either way, you’re hardly boring. If anything I find you highly interesting.”

The younger had a glint in her eyes. One that spoke of fascination and a thirst for knowledge. She wanted to understand Violeta, to uncover her secrets and hold them above her. A habit she had that she was trying to get rid of. But it was hard when the woman across seemed to have many.

"I'll stay and watch Arabella's reading if that's ok."

He cleared his throat trying to erase the accent that still lingered in his voice. He swallowed a bad feeling rising in his chest when Violeta mentioned the tea and..bowed the way she did. It reminded him of someone he didn't want to think about tonight. Not sober at least.

Arabella nudged Halos, giving him a small look and indicating with her fingers that after the evening they could go out and smoke something. She had rolled some joints earlier and had them in her bag.

“As for tea… What type is it? I’m rather picky with my tastes.”

The girl would stay. She would get Violeta comfortable and peel away the layers until she could uncover her secrets. Arabella hated not knowing and right now it felt like there was a lot she did not know.

Yet here in her apartment, with just these two, she could sense their deep guilt. She may have to do a protection spell for herself to keep herself from taking in too much of it. Adjusting the poncho draped over her shoulders, she grounds herself in the moment and does her best to press forward and be a decent host.

"I see. You're more than welcome to say and watch, Halos. And my condolences to your usual reader, Miss Arabella. I hope my divination is up to your standards."

With a playful glint in her eye, she summons two decks of cards that seemed appropriate enough for the occasion. The boxes come floating in from another room, and once in front of the shaman, they open, the cards fanning out and dancing in the air. Violeta manipulates the smoke rising from the ashes of the palo santo to swirl around the cards before returning the cards to neat piles to sit in front of her on the blanket. Zatanna taught her all about the importance of putting on a decent show.

"I'll assume you know the drill, then? What kind of reading would please you today, my lady?"

She smiles like she's inviting Arabella to play with her, despite Violeta being the one to offer a service. She winks at Halos, a cheeky bid for him to enjoy the show.

"On matters of tea... I believe a rose, passionflower, chamomile, and clover honey infusion would suit the occasion. Shall I prepare it now or after the reading?"

“As for the reading… How about love?” She smiled, observing every move of the woman. From the way she spoke to the way she held herself, Arabella carefully noted it down in her head. “I’ve been rather curious as to what I should do.” The girl accepted the invitation through a change in her demeanour, becoming less strict and postured and more playful herself.

“How about after for the tea? I’ll admit I’m fascinated by how you will conduct the reading, Violeta.”

She smiled and nodded at him. "It's a gift," she tells him mentally, testing her theory. She thought the black crystal would suit him well; it also had the bonus effect of grounding, transmuting negative vibrations, eliminating distractions, and helping the mind focus.

Returning her undivided attention to Arabella, she waves her hands, the cards forming a heart shape in the air as they revolve like a Ferris wheel.

"Love reading it is!"

She returns the cards to her hands, shuffling them one deck at a time.

"You know, I'm not the one who does the reading; the universe picks the cards. I'm just the interpreter." Three cards are produced from the first deck.

"I'm afraid I'm not the most experienced in matters of love." Two cards float out from the second.

"Interesting. The Lovers is at the very heart of this reading, yet all the other cards are in reversal."

Violeta hums as she studies and contemplates the cards.

"Love tries to find you, but it doesn't have a place to call home within your heart." Violeta takes a breath, focusing on the channeled messages.

"It's like... your heart is a sieve. It can only hold things for a second before it all slips through the cracks. I'm sorry you've suffered such heartbreak, Bella."

The last part came from the shaman herself, her eyes soft with not pity... understanding. Respect for what she's lived through.

"Indecision, stagnation, unrealized..." Violeta clears her throat, catching herself before an unintentional slip of the tongue.

"I am so sorry," she sighs, rubbing the back of her head, "but I have a rather insistent spirit who wishes to speak with you. They have a rather... strong personality."

She found it hard to focus and continue the reading with the presence pushing against her consciousness. "Would it be alright if I put them through? As in, I channel them so they can speak with you."

Did she mention she was also a medium? No? Well, she hoped it didn't freak them out.

He tried to move past it. There was no way Violeta clocked him that fast...but even if he'd never admit he knew she knew something.

His eyes flicked to Arabella almost immediately after the last thing Violeta said. He's been on trips with his brother who was...maybe something of a medium. It was complicated he didn't know enough to know the official title of whatever Hansin was but he knew he wasn't ok with this. The creator of the universe could be trying to speak to Arabella right now and he wouldn't care because Hansin wasn't here to make whatever it was talk. He gave Arabella a clear warning with his eyes alone and even if it didn't need words he still tried to communicate them. Even if his abilities weren't working well right now. Very clearly in his mind with his best ability to project it to Arabella. (He was sort of weak)

'Do not let her channel anything'

Her train of thought was stopped by the mention of a spirit and then Halos’ faint voice in her head. It was something she was used to by now but the faintness of his voice was different. He was hurting. She didn’t fully understand why he would tell her to reject the offer but she was sure it had to do with Hansin.

Despite everything, Arabella hated not knowing and was selfish at heart. Regardless of her friend’s feelings and experiences she already knew what she was going to say. “A spirit, hm?” With a tilt of her head and an intrigued look in her eye that spelled trouble she spoke again. “If they are so insistent then we should hardly keep them waiting.”

With a nod of acknowledgement, she gives permission for the spirit to use her as an avatar. "Alright, you heard the lady. You may speak. Inisitent lil bugger..."

She relaxes her body, and in a rather unclimactic way, she surrenders herself over to the spirit. Channeling wasn't very showy, and Violeta found it unnecessary to make it so. Adding extra steps could negatively affect the exchange.

Violeta's head perks up again, her eyes turned brown, face scrunched into a scowl. "When are you going to stop being so pathetic, Bella?"

An exasperated and annoyed voice that didn't quite sound like the shaman's carries through the room.

"You're such a baby, clinging to the past and what was or what you think is. get it through your dumb fucking skull that it's what- 2026 now? Get over yourself!"

The spirit glances at the cards again and scoffs.

"You know what, she was too much of a softie to say it, but I will. You're wasting your potential," the spirit pauses and rolls his eyes when Violeta insists on adding, "Not the kind of potential that's useful to others. The potential to cultivate and- ah, fuck off, lady."

Violeta was not kidding when she warned that the spirit had a strong personality.

"Christ, do you know how fucking maddening it is to watch you spend years doing fuck all? I bet watching grass grow is more exciting than watching over you. But I guess I'm stuck with ya."

The scowl softens a smidge, though annoyance is still generally present in their expression and tone, "I'm not going to tell you that you've got the potential to do great things, because you're not ready for that yet. But you've got to stop fucking running away from yourself. You're not a little kid anymore. Grown women have to actually face the music. You can have love if you want it. But I don't think you want it badly enough. Think about that."

Violeta's eyes shift back into their hazel hue, and the shaman takes a few deep breaths as she returns to herself.

"Hmph. That one's rather lacking in manners," they mutter quietly.

“You don’t say…” Arabella folded her arms. “You wouldn’t happen to know who that was, would you? Or what they meant by being ‘stuck with me’?”

That was the bit that stayed in her mind. The spirit was watching, and had been for a while apparently. Why?

He looked at Violeta and then Arabella as if to say 'Well you guys wanted to talk to it'. Then he looked at Arabella a little more stern with a look that said 'if something bad happens. I'm gonna make Hansin bring you back so I can say I told you so.' . Honestly he wasn't surprised that he spirit wasn't nice. He couldn't imagine himself wanting to be stuck with Arabella in the afterlife. He clears his throat a little speaking up against his better judgement.

"Sometimes spirits get attached because of something to do with unresolved trauma, emotional vulnerability.."

He pauses to bite his lip once before deciding against saying something.

"Or with high energy places...uh portals. Maybe visiting certain locations can increase the likelihood of it...or maybe unfinished business in a sense."

Fuck it. He's already involved.

"Muy bien, chico. Halos is correct, but that's just a small part of a bigger puzzle."

She readjusts, sitting back and leaning onto a propped arm, her body language relaxed and casual as could be.

"Reality is like a sandwich. Most of us exist here, in the physical realm, our spirits occupying our bodies for this lifetime. The spirit realm can be quite expansive, and it exists parallel to the physical one. Those with spiritual sensitivity can interact and exist within those layers of reality, almost like butterflies. Butterflies can see ultraviolet light, while human eyes are incapable of it."

She itched to go on and on about the particulars of the spirit realm, but out of consideration for her audience, she circled back to Arabella's question.

"In your case, Bella, the conditions that Halos listed do not apply. I would say that this spirit... is almost like a guardian angel of sorts, though they act far from it. Let's call them a guardian spirit."

Violeta's eyes gaze into space as she hums, like she were looking elsewhere while she gathered her words.

"He's definitely masculine. Human. Hm, not too far off from your age, apparently. Lanky. Boyish charm despite his audacity. Fiercly protective of you. Why am I getting fraternal vibes?"

Violeta closes her eyes and holds her chin to focus, but eventually sighs in defeat.

"I'm not getting much else. Well, regardless, though he said he's "stuck with you", he's choosing to be with you. He wishes to see you well, and watch you grow up to..." she sighs, repeating his words in a deadpan tone, "realize your potential."

Violeta didn't agree with the wording of it, but she could understand, by principle, why he was so adamant about expressing that. Arabella was clearly shooting herself in the foot with some sort of victim complex, unable to forgive herself and move on from whatever traumatized her. She had to cultivate the courage to retake the reins of her own life.

"I'm sorry I couldn't answer much more about this particular guardian. When spirits decide to be secretive, there's not really much more that can be done."

Well, unless you were John Constantine. Her mentor lived to break and bend the rules of the natural order. But Violeta was not like him. The shaman casts Halos a pleading glance, as if to ask him to keep that thought to himself. Messing with spirit business could get unpleasant very quickly.

"Well... if you consider this reading concluded, I'd be happy to brew and offer you both that tea now," she kindly offers, hoping to transition into a lighter mood.

Violet takes a deep breath, letting the air fill her lungs and ground her. Both Halos and Arabella were still unsure and wary, which was natural when meeting someone new. Her first objective was to establish a friendship first.

"Que bacán, me parece una forma increíble de autoexpresión, Halos. Que lindo que tanto su hermano como usted sean tan áviles y creativos. Me da envidia."

She thought it was amazing to have such a lovely and personal shared interest with a brother. Violeta was an only child herself, but still treasured the memories she had of learning traditional medicine with her grandmother. Family was something she deeply valued.

"Thank you, Arabella. I did my best to make it comfortable. Please feel free to leave whenever you'd like; you're not obligated to stay here by any means." With that, she softly closes the door and strides into her living area.

"So it would seem you both have brothers then?"

She gestures for them to get comfortable in the space she prepared, whether it be on the couch or the nest of blankets and pillows she had on the floor. She briefly disappears into her kitchen to turn off the stovetop, then sits down on the floor herself.

"Your brother was very kind to let you borrow his clothes for tonight," she lightheartedly jabs at Arabella, knowing she probably took them without asking.

"Though I do have to confess, you both are much younger than what I was expecting... I sincerely apologize, but I cannot conduct an Ayahuasca ceremony with you two in good faith. It would go against my morals and values."

She bows her head and holds her hand over her heart as she earnestly apologizes and explains.

"You both came all this way... it was my mistake for assuming and not asking. I'm afraid I still have much to learn about the internet and modern society."

Maywa... this is boring. Why don't you mess with them a little?

The shaman ignores the goddess whispering in her ears.

"But, I don't want you two to have come here in vain. If you'd like, I could read your tarot cards? I could also fix you both a relaxing tea, or, if I don't bore you, we can just talk."

Violeta hopes she doesn't lose their interest, though she wouldn't blame them if she did. Tarot readings usually captured the imagination of most non-magicians, and it could be just the starter they needed to open a deeper conversation. She just didn't want to scare them off. She really wanted to help them.

At first, Arabella was ticked off at the rejection but the then apology made her soften ever so slightly. She could tell it was genuine. The woman was clearly new to Gotham. “It is alright. If anything I can admire that you stick to your values so clearly. It is… A good trait to have.”

She mulled Violeta’s words in her head. Something about the woman seemed off. The slight delay between her sentences that seemed fitting for another conversation. Or maybe Arabella herself was just too used to being around people with hallucinations and was projecting onto her. She wouldn’t put that outside the realm of possibility.

“I don’t mind tarot. I dun- I don’t know about Angel but I’m due for mine. My normal reader got arrested for something or other and I’ve hardly had time to bail her out. Either way, you’re hardly boring. If anything I find you highly interesting.”

The younger had a glint in her eyes. One that spoke of fascination and a thirst for knowledge. She wanted to understand Violeta, to uncover her secrets and hold them above her. A habit she had that she was trying to get rid of. But it was hard when the woman across seemed to have many.

"I'll stay and watch Arabella's reading if that's ok."

He cleared his throat trying to erase the accent that still lingered in his voice. He swallowed a bad feeling rising in his chest when Violeta mentioned the tea and..bowed the way she did. It reminded him of someone he didn't want to think about tonight. Not sober at least.

Arabella nudged Halos, giving him a small look and indicating with her fingers that after the evening they could go out and smoke something. She had rolled some joints earlier and had them in her bag.

“As for tea… What type is it? I’m rather picky with my tastes.”

The girl would stay. She would get Violeta comfortable and peel away the layers until she could uncover her secrets. Arabella hated not knowing and right now it felt like there was a lot she did not know.

Yet here in her apartment, with just these two, she could sense their deep guilt. She may have to do a protection spell for herself to keep herself from taking in too much of it. Adjusting the poncho draped over her shoulders, she grounds herself in the moment and does her best to press forward and be a decent host.

"I see. You're more than welcome to say and watch, Halos. And my condolences to your usual reader, Miss Arabella. I hope my divination is up to your standards."

With a playful glint in her eye, she summons two decks of cards that seemed appropriate enough for the occasion. The boxes come floating in from another room, and once in front of the shaman, they open, the cards fanning out and dancing in the air. Violeta manipulates the smoke rising from the ashes of the palo santo to swirl around the cards before returning the cards to neat piles to sit in front of her on the blanket. Zatanna taught her all about the importance of putting on a decent show.

"I'll assume you know the drill, then? What kind of reading would please you today, my lady?"

She smiles like she's inviting Arabella to play with her, despite Violeta being the one to offer a service. She winks at Halos, a cheeky bid for him to enjoy the show.

"On matters of tea... I believe a rose, passionflower, chamomile, and clover honey infusion would suit the occasion. Shall I prepare it now or after the reading?"

“As for the reading… How about love?” She smiled, observing every move of the woman. From the way she spoke to the way she held herself, Arabella carefully noted it down in her head. “I’ve been rather curious as to what I should do.” The girl accepted the invitation through a change in her demeanour, becoming less strict and postured and more playful herself.

“How about after for the tea? I’ll admit I’m fascinated by how you will conduct the reading, Violeta.”

She smiled and nodded at him. "It's a gift," she tells him mentally, testing her theory. She thought the black crystal would suit him well; it also had the bonus effect of grounding, transmuting negative vibrations, eliminating distractions, and helping the mind focus.

Returning her undivided attention to Arabella, she waves her hands, the cards forming a heart shape in the air as they revolve like a Ferris wheel.

"Love reading it is!"

She returns the cards to her hands, shuffling them one deck at a time.

"You know, I'm not the one who does the reading; the universe picks the cards. I'm just the interpreter." Three cards are produced from the first deck.

"I'm afraid I'm not the most experienced in matters of love." Two cards float out from the second.

"Interesting. The Lovers is at the very heart of this reading, yet all the other cards are in reversal."

Violeta hums as she studies and contemplates the cards.

"Love tries to find you, but it doesn't have a place to call home within your heart." Violeta takes a breath, focusing on the channeled messages.

"It's like... your heart is a sieve. It can only hold things for a second before it all slips through the cracks. I'm sorry you've suffered such heartbreak, Bella."

The last part came from the shaman herself, her eyes soft with not pity... understanding. Respect for what she's lived through.

"Indecision, stagnation, unrealized..." Violeta clears her throat, catching herself before an unintentional slip of the tongue.

"I am so sorry," she sighs, rubbing the back of her head, "but I have a rather insistent spirit who wishes to speak with you. They have a rather... strong personality."

She found it hard to focus and continue the reading with the presence pushing against her consciousness. "Would it be alright if I put them through? As in, I channel them so they can speak with you."

Did she mention she was also a medium? No? Well, she hoped it didn't freak them out.

He tried to move past it. There was no way Violeta clocked him that fast...but even if he'd never admit he knew she knew something.

His eyes flicked to Arabella almost immediately after the last thing Violeta said. He's been on trips with his brother who was...maybe something of a medium. It was complicated he didn't know enough to know the official title of whatever Hansin was but he knew he wasn't ok with this. The creator of the universe could be trying to speak to Arabella right now and he wouldn't care because Hansin wasn't here to make whatever it was talk. He gave Arabella a clear warning with his eyes alone and even if it didn't need words he still tried to communicate them. Even if his abilities weren't working well right now. Very clearly in his mind with his best ability to project it to Arabella. (He was sort of weak)

'Do not let her channel anything'

Her train of thought was stopped by the mention of a spirit and then Halos’ faint voice in her head. It was something she was used to by now but the faintness of his voice was different. He was hurting. She didn’t fully understand why he would tell her to reject the offer but she was sure it had to do with Hansin.

Despite everything, Arabella hated not knowing and was selfish at heart. Regardless of her friend’s feelings and experiences she already knew what she was going to say. “A spirit, hm?” With a tilt of her head and an intrigued look in her eye that spelled trouble she spoke again. “If they are so insistent then we should hardly keep them waiting.”

With a nod of acknowledgement, she gives permission for the spirit to use her as an avatar. "Alright, you heard the lady. You may speak. Inisitent lil bugger..."

She relaxes her body, and in a rather unclimactic way, she surrenders herself over to the spirit. Channeling wasn't very showy, and Violeta found it unnecessary to make it so. Adding extra steps could negatively affect the exchange.

Violeta's head perks up again, her eyes turned brown, face scrunched into a scowl. "When are you going to stop being so pathetic, Bella?"

An exasperated and annoyed voice that didn't quite sound like the shaman's carries through the room.

"You're such a baby, clinging to the past and what was or what you think is. get it through your dumb fucking skull that it's what- 2026 now? Get over yourself!"

The spirit glances at the cards again and scoffs.

"You know what, she was too much of a softie to say it, but I will. You're wasting your potential," the spirit pauses and rolls his eyes when Violeta insists on adding, "Not the kind of potential that's useful to others. The potential to cultivate and- ah, fuck off, lady."

Violeta was not kidding when she warned that the spirit had a strong personality.

"Christ, do you know how fucking maddening it is to watch you spend years doing fuck all? I bet watching grass grow is more exciting than watching over you. But I guess I'm stuck with ya."

The scowl softens a smidge, though annoyance is still generally present in their expression and tone, "I'm not going to tell you that you've got the potential to do great things, because you're not ready for that yet. But you've got to stop fucking running away from yourself. You're not a little kid anymore. Grown women have to actually face the music. You can have love if you want it. But I don't think you want it badly enough. Think about that."

Violeta's eyes shift back into their hazel hue, and the shaman takes a few deep breaths as she returns to herself.

"Hmph. That one's rather lacking in manners," they mutter quietly.

Oh, I'm also being told to offer LexCorp's assistance in rebuilding your broadcasting center.

@greaterthansuperman

Hello Superboy! ☺️

Happy Pride Month 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️🌈

To be honest, it is a complex period for GBS News. But! On the bright side, all of our employees that were badged in the building during the attacks have now officially been accounted for.

Thanks to your intervention alongside first responders and other vigilantes, the casualties are quite low. Though of course, each loss is a great one and our thoughts go to the families of those who have passed.

As of currently, GBS News will be emitting from our antenna in Central City whilst the HQ building in Metropolis remains condemned, awaiting demolition. So rebuilding is not exactly in the cards yet. We will await the city's permits and ultimate decisions. Potentially look for a new building...

Thanks for reaching out Superboy, truly! Metropolis' finest for sure 😄

But hey. I'm really glad everyone's accounted for.

And listen, I know its a pretty know thing that I don't get how many things actually cost to get and fix and stuff but I know funerals and stuff is super expressive so if you know any of the families who lost someone, please tell 'em LexCorp's has a $6000 credit at any funeral service in Metropolis.

I'm relatively new to the whole "heroes" scene, but I've dedicated my life to helping those who are hurting. So, whether it be holistic/supplementary care, an extra volunteer, or a shoulder to cry on, @galaxycommunications and the people affected by this tragedy can count on another friendly face to help out in whatever they need.

I watched you evacuate dozens of people from the wreckage. You're quite an impressive hero! I really admire those who strive to do so much good for their community.

Violet takes a deep breath, letting the air fill her lungs and ground her. Both Halos and Arabella were still unsure and wary, which was natural when meeting someone new. Her first objective was to establish a friendship first.

"Que bacán, me parece una forma increíble de autoexpresión, Halos. Que lindo que tanto su hermano como usted sean tan áviles y creativos. Me da envidia."

She thought it was amazing to have such a lovely and personal shared interest with a brother. Violeta was an only child herself, but still treasured the memories she had of learning traditional medicine with her grandmother. Family was something she deeply valued.

"Thank you, Arabella. I did my best to make it comfortable. Please feel free to leave whenever you'd like; you're not obligated to stay here by any means." With that, she softly closes the door and strides into her living area.

"So it would seem you both have brothers then?"

She gestures for them to get comfortable in the space she prepared, whether it be on the couch or the nest of blankets and pillows she had on the floor. She briefly disappears into her kitchen to turn off the stovetop, then sits down on the floor herself.

"Your brother was very kind to let you borrow his clothes for tonight," she lightheartedly jabs at Arabella, knowing she probably took them without asking.

"Though I do have to confess, you both are much younger than what I was expecting... I sincerely apologize, but I cannot conduct an Ayahuasca ceremony with you two in good faith. It would go against my morals and values."

She bows her head and holds her hand over her heart as she earnestly apologizes and explains.

"You both came all this way... it was my mistake for assuming and not asking. I'm afraid I still have much to learn about the internet and modern society."

Maywa... this is boring. Why don't you mess with them a little?

The shaman ignores the goddess whispering in her ears.

"But, I don't want you two to have come here in vain. If you'd like, I could read your tarot cards? I could also fix you both a relaxing tea, or, if I don't bore you, we can just talk."

Violeta hopes she doesn't lose their interest, though she wouldn't blame them if she did. Tarot readings usually captured the imagination of most non-magicians, and it could be just the starter they needed to open a deeper conversation. She just didn't want to scare them off. She really wanted to help them.

At first, Arabella was ticked off at the rejection but the then apology made her soften ever so slightly. She could tell it was genuine. The woman was clearly new to Gotham. “It is alright. If anything I can admire that you stick to your values so clearly. It is… A good trait to have.”

She mulled Violeta’s words in her head. Something about the woman seemed off. The slight delay between her sentences that seemed fitting for another conversation. Or maybe Arabella herself was just too used to being around people with hallucinations and was projecting onto her. She wouldn’t put that outside the realm of possibility.

“I don’t mind tarot. I dun- I don’t know about Angel but I’m due for mine. My normal reader got arrested for something or other and I’ve hardly had time to bail her out. Either way, you’re hardly boring. If anything I find you highly interesting.”

The younger had a glint in her eyes. One that spoke of fascination and a thirst for knowledge. She wanted to understand Violeta, to uncover her secrets and hold them above her. A habit she had that she was trying to get rid of. But it was hard when the woman across seemed to have many.

"I'll stay and watch Arabella's reading if that's ok."

He cleared his throat trying to erase the accent that still lingered in his voice. He swallowed a bad feeling rising in his chest when Violeta mentioned the tea and..bowed the way she did. It reminded him of someone he didn't want to think about tonight. Not sober at least.

Arabella nudged Halos, giving him a small look and indicating with her fingers that after the evening they could go out and smoke something. She had rolled some joints earlier and had them in her bag.

“As for tea… What type is it? I’m rather picky with my tastes.”

The girl would stay. She would get Violeta comfortable and peel away the layers until she could uncover her secrets. Arabella hated not knowing and right now it felt like there was a lot she did not know.

Yet here in her apartment, with just these two, she could sense their deep guilt. She may have to do a protection spell for herself to keep herself from taking in too much of it. Adjusting the poncho draped over her shoulders, she grounds herself in the moment and does her best to press forward and be a decent host.

"I see. You're more than welcome to say and watch, Halos. And my condolences to your usual reader, Miss Arabella. I hope my divination is up to your standards."

With a playful glint in her eye, she summons two decks of cards that seemed appropriate enough for the occasion. The boxes come floating in from another room, and once in front of the shaman, they open, the cards fanning out and dancing in the air. Violeta manipulates the smoke rising from the ashes of the palo santo to swirl around the cards before returning the cards to neat piles to sit in front of her on the blanket. Zatanna taught her all about the importance of putting on a decent show.

"I'll assume you know the drill, then? What kind of reading would please you today, my lady?"

She smiles like she's inviting Arabella to play with her, despite Violeta being the one to offer a service. She winks at Halos, a cheeky bid for him to enjoy the show.

"On matters of tea... I believe a rose, passionflower, chamomile, and clover honey infusion would suit the occasion. Shall I prepare it now or after the reading?"

“As for the reading… How about love?” She smiled, observing every move of the woman. From the way she spoke to the way she held herself, Arabella carefully noted it down in her head. “I’ve been rather curious as to what I should do.” The girl accepted the invitation through a change in her demeanour, becoming less strict and postured and more playful herself.

“How about after for the tea? I’ll admit I’m fascinated by how you will conduct the reading, Violeta.”

She smiled and nodded at him. "It's a gift," she tells him mentally, testing her theory. She thought the black crystal would suit him well; it also had the bonus effect of grounding, transmuting negative vibrations, eliminating distractions, and helping the mind focus.

Returning her undivided attention to Arabella, she waves her hands, the cards forming a heart shape in the air as they revolve like a Ferris wheel.

"Love reading it is!"

She returns the cards to her hands, shuffling them one deck at a time.

"You know, I'm not the one who does the reading; the universe picks the cards. I'm just the interpreter." Three cards are produced from the first deck.

"I'm afraid I'm not the most experienced in matters of love." Two cards float out from the second.

"Interesting. The Lovers is at the very heart of this reading, yet all the other cards are in reversal."

Violeta hums as she studies and contemplates the cards.

"Love tries to find you, but it doesn't have a place to call home within your heart." Violeta takes a breath, focusing on the channeled messages.

"It's like... your heart is a sieve. It can only hold things for a second before it all slips through the cracks. I'm sorry you've suffered such heartbreak, Bella."

The last part came from the shaman herself, her eyes soft with not pity... understanding. Respect for what she's lived through.

"Indecision, stagnation, unrealized..." Violeta clears her throat, catching herself before an unintentional slip of the tongue.

"I am so sorry," she sighs, rubbing the back of her head, "but I have a rather insistent spirit who wishes to speak with you. They have a rather... strong personality."

She found it hard to focus and continue the reading with the presence pushing against her consciousness. "Would it be alright if I put them through? As in, I channel them so they can speak with you."

Did she mention she was also a medium? No? Well, she hoped it didn't freak them out.

NINGÚN SER HUMANO ES ILLEGAL!

¡ESTA TIERRA FUE ROBADA! ¡NOS PERTENECE A TODOS!

Silence in green

"Matt, for you."

The reporter took ahold of the phone, bringing his work cell to his hear. "M. Matthew Matheson speaking."

"You looked good on tv Matt. Real swell. Had all the necessary gravitas too." An electronic voice declared, obviously altered by a voice modulator.

"Why thank you. Always delighted to hear from a fan." The male flatly let out, not entirely new to threats over the phone. "How can I help you?"

"No, no no. I'm the one who'll help you actually. After all, I know where the gifts are hidden."

"Gifts? What gifts?" The reporter asked, features sobering to a serious expression as he sat straighter, brows now creased.

The modified voice chuckled. "Oh Matty, you know exactly the sort of gifts someone like me, would send to GBS News. The spectacular sort, that goes ka-boom!"

Matt chuckled dryly. "Another bomb threat. Right. Um, and how did you get the gifts in the building?"

"Well, we got rid of security and then walked right in."

"What? You're here now?" Matheson asked, standing up and leaving the TV studio.

"We're just about leaving actually. You understand, we wouldn't want to be in the building when it actually blows up."

"What?"

"Why so surprised, that's what you wanted, no?"

"What?" The news reporter repeated, stunned.

"Oh come on, it'll be good for the audience. We all get what we want this way."

"No, wait, wait, no," Matt grabbed the arm of an assistant that walked by. "Get security on the line." He mouthed to the employee who frowned but obeyed, making a call in their headset.

"Security is not responding at the moment." The employee informed, feeling Matheson's grip tighten around their arm before he let go, phone clattering to the ground as well. Without a single thought, M. Matthew Matheson, who'd been live minutes ago still was rushing through the GBS News redaction bullpen with a wild gaze.

"Hey Matt good-" The junior hire was entirely ignored by the man who raced through, to head for the nearest emergency exit stairs, making the remaining employee exchange confused looks. "Okay..." The blond woman let out.

Matt started to run to the floor below, where an annex of the security team was located for more reactivity. He rushed into the small control room, to find a man seating in front of the several screens. "Oh thank God." He let out, hand still gripping the door as he clutched his chest. Just a bad joke. Just another threat.

Except the security guard did not seem to acknowledge him. He didn't move at all. Just sat there, in his chair. Dread rising in his throat, the journalist reached for the back of the swivel chair, turning the man's body towards him and gasping when he saw that he had a bullet lodged in his forehead, blood dripping down his face. "No..."

Just then, the first detonation was heard on the floor above and Matheson clutched as his chest, stumbling backwards and falling on his ass.

After the first tremors passed, and the ground felt stable enough, the reporter got back on his feet, taking a few stumbling steps and catching himself on a nearby pillar.

[ 3 minutes earlier, Superboy had been belly-down on the asphalt, laughing through an army crawl race against Frank the firefighter. A crowd of kids circled them, shouting, cheering for the both of them. The whole point of the meet-and-greet was to prove neither heroes nor the firefighters in gear were something to be scared of when they showed up to help.

Then the tones dropped.

The PA crackled. The call came in sharp and fast. Explosions. Building collapse with victims inside. Kon heard it before the dispatcher finished, the shockwaves hit his ears like slamming doors, two seconds apart. He was up before his brain caught up, boots skidding on concrete. One look at the crew. One nod. The kids' laughter died in confusion as firefighters sprinted for turnouts and the engine roared to life.

Kon didn't wait. He was airborne before the truck even started up. As soon as he arrived he started reporting on the rescue channels. ]

Arrival on scene. Superboy to all units: building is unstable, repeat, unstable. Moving to exterior perimeter sweep.

[ He hovered at the fourth floor line, eyes tracking cracks racing up the façade. Smoke vented from three separate breach points. A chunk of the east wall was already missing, exposing rebar like broken ribs. ]

Superboy to Fire Command. Patch me into your tac channel. Over.

A burst of static, then a voice: Command to Superboy. You're up on Alpha 7. Go ahead.

Copy. Currently scanning for life signs. I have visual on multiple heat signatures. Do we have confirmed detonation of all explosive devices? Negative or affirmative?

Pause. Then: Command to Superboy. Negative. Origin unknown. Secondary devices possible. Do not engage interior until SCOPES is complete. Over.

[ Kon clenched his jaw. SCOPES. Size-up, Conditions, Occupancy, Probable rescue zones, Emergency resources, Structure stability. He knew the drill. He had to memorize it as part of LexCorp training. He was supposed to be able to work with any rescue team. Part of that was learning all the codes, procedures, and etiquette. But he also knew people were bleeding in there. Just as the fire team did. ]

Copy, Command. Holding exterior. Feeding you intel now.

[ He circled the building once, twice, three times, slow, methodical, hot zone by hot zone. ]

West wall, third floor, crack running full vertical. Do not commit weight there. Fourth floor, south corner, I count five, repeat five, human signatures. Two appear mobile. Three are not. Second floor, north stairwell, void space. I see two adults. One moving other not so much. First floor lobby multiple victims, unknown count. Debris covering most of the floor plate. But structure appears safe enough.

Command copies. Stand by for SCOPES clearance.

[ Kon waited though waiting made his skin crawl. He was ready he was so ready to run in there. It didn't take too long. ]

Superboy, Command. You are cleared to rescue. Maintain vocal contact. Use tag-and-evac protocol. Over.

Copy. Moving in.

[ He didn't use the doors. He pulled a section of blown-out window frame wider and slipped through, boots hovering an inch off the floor to distribute no weight. Dust choked the air. Somewhere below him, a support beam groaned like a dying animal. ]

Rescue call out! Make yourself known!

[ He didn't need them to answer. His ears already had them mapped by heartbeat. But the call wasn't for him, it was for the victims. A voice in the dark to not scare the shit out of them when he inevitably snuck up on them. ]

Rescue call out! Sound off if you can hear me!

[ First victim was a woman pinned under a collapsed filing cabinet. Kon lifted it one-handed, pulled her free, checked her airway and pulse in four seconds flat. Green tag. Conscious, breathing, no major injury. He lifted her gently, flew her to the medical triage zone outside, handed her off without landing, and turned back.

He went in again. And again. Each time: assess, tag, extract. No wasted motion. No hesitation. The fire crew hit the building from the east side with hose lines and irons, and Kon fed them real-time updates between trips. Working with rescue was helpful. They'd search and pull who they could and Kon pulled whoever they weren't sure they'd be able to get to safely. ]

Third floor victim count downgraded to four. One self-extracted. East stairwell is clear. West stairwell is compromised. Do not use, repeat, do not use.

[ That's where Kon was heading. Unlike humans, he didn't need to stand on unstable debris or worry about shit falling. Then he reached Matt. The man was buried deep in the back corner of the first floor, surrounded by collapsed walls that had created a tight pocket of void space that had once been a security office. Kon had to tunnel through a gap barely wider than his shoulders, moving sideways, feeling the building breathe around him. One wrong shift and the whole pocket would close.

He found Matt pinned supine under a steel beam. Not just any beam, one that had fallen at an angle, and now supported a second crumbling beam above it. A deadfall trap waiting for gravity to finish the job.

Kon dropped to a crouch beside him. Assessing him. ]

Still, the journalist tried to focus on the words spoken to him, blinking heavily to keep his sight on the recognizable face's lips, trying to read them in conjunction with his currently poor hearing and make sense of whatever was going on. "Please." The middle aged man beg, tears rolling down as he reached out for Superboy. "Please get me out of here." He forced out, words half-lost in his wheezy, whiny breathing, his pain and panic obvious, still blindly reaching out for Superboy's hand for comfort. "I don't want to die today. Not like him..." He added, shaking his head and squeezing his eyes shut as the vision of the security guard with a bullet lodged between his eyes haunting him.

[ Kon caught Matt's wrists as the man started clawing at his throat, desperate to prevent him from flailing. His hold was firm but careful, the way you'd handle someone who didn't know they were about to make everything possibly so much worse. Which Matt was. The guy was spiraling. Panic tremor in his hands, breath hitching, what little movement he did have desperately trying to pull even though the beam across his hips hadn't budged.

Thank the gods for that.

Kon was trying to prevent him from pulling. ]

You're going to be alright. I'm getting you out of here alive if I've got anything to say about it. But I need you to work with me. You hear me? Work with me.

[ Kon didn't ask about the bombs as the man babbled on. Didn't ask where they could have gotten his work phone or why he was singled out in particular. Most importantly he didn't judge him for running. The guy had panicked, tried to save himself, made a run for it, and the building came down on him anyway. That wasn't abnormal. Most folks would make the same split second decision. That was primal. A conversation for later, when later was guaranteed. ]

Hey, hey, it's alright. No one's going to blame you for this. Was anyone else in this room with you?

[ Kon swept the space. His voice didn't change when he spotted the security guard's body, cold, still, far beyond help. He filed the location away. Recover later. Living first. He checked into his comms ]

No other viable signatures in this quadrant.

[ He looked at the beam pinning Matt. Then the beam above it. Then the wall leaning into both like a drunk friend about to fall. ]

Command, Superboy. I have one victim, adult male, pinned under primary beam with secondary load transfer. Entrapment is complex. Requesting permission for micro-lift and stabilization before extraction. Over.

Command to Superboy. What's the risk to structural integrity?

If I lift clean and slow, minimal. If I don't lift..

[ Kon stared at the beams trying to see if theirs another safer option before clicking his tongue. ]

If I don't lift, he dies. Permission requested.

[ Silence. The kind that stretched years in a space that measured in seconds. Kon knew what they were doing. Command was checking in with other units to best determine the safest outcome but it still felt too long.

Kon dropped his focus to Matt. Kept his voice low. Even. The same tone Frank the firefighter used with scared kids at the meet-and-greet. ]

Hey. Listen to me. This is not your fault. You didn't do this. Extremists did. You hear me? Not. Your. Fault.

[ Matt's breathing stayed ragged, but his eyes locked on Kon's though the man still looked hazy. Kon just needed to keep him from. Passing out until he got him to medical. Actually it'd probably be best to get what he could right now. ]

Now. Do you think you can squeeze my hands? Just squeeze and let go. Show me you're with me.

[ Kon pressed Matt's palms against his own, warm, solid, alive. Assess while you wait. Keep them talking. Keep them breathing. ]

‘Work with him...’

Matt chuckled at the request, or well, more so the timing of it really. The man had been on national television barely hours earlier, arguing that perhaps we should question the goals of vigilantes and reconsider the amount of latitude we were willing to give them. Of course, being a seasoned journalist, the reporter had expected a vitriolic response. They whole redaction had. Which is why, they'd chosen to stand united even in the very studio. To show that this wasn't the voice of one person but GBS speaking as an organisation, to ask for vigilantes to actually have more consideration for the impact of their words, of their actions. As well intended as they might be, as funny as they might believe themselves in certain situation, it remained that they had civilians lives in their hands, that the population was at their mercy. And they couldn't take on the roles they had lightly. Not when they'd become symbols greater than themselves. Not when so many looked up to them. Method, mattered. Messaging, mattered.

"No one else with me. Just the dead. And you..."

Perhaps this was karma then, to be trapped with a superhero for sole hope. Or perhaps it was a reminder of what they first stood for, of what their ultimate mission was. Nothing, after all, compelled Superboy to show up and help. He chose to do so. Every day. Relentlessly. For as many people as he could manage.

Matt squeezed his eyes shut, tears rolling down quietly as he wheezed still, the guilt so overwhelming when told no one would blame him. Because maybe they should. Maybe they should... He'd gotten the call hadn't he? And instead of thinking clearly and rationally and ringing the alarm to usher people out, he'd chosen to run like a headless, unprepared chicken... All that to get trapped. Not exactly heroic, now, was it?

The reporter hadn't managed to register much of the words not addressed to him. But one sentence rang clearly in his ears: “If I don't lift, he dies.”

Oh. Of course. Sure. Karma then? Not his fault. Extremists' fault. Not his fault. The attackers did that. Not his fault? Not... His... Fault..? Really?

[ Kon let go of Matt's hands just in time to catch his head before it hit the debris. Shit. Shit. Shit. Passing out was not part of the plan. Medical assessment window had just slammed shut. He'd have to work off scans alone. ]

Command, Superboy. Victim has lost consciousness. Breathing is shallow. Repeat, shallow. Requesting immediate permission to lift.

[ He knew he was rushing Command. But his sweep of the building showed almost everyone else was out. It was impressive. They'd cleared the structure in under five minutes with his help. Now it was just Matt. One victim. One lift. One chance. ]

Command to Superboy. You're cleared for micro-lift. Command is pulling all personnel from your quadrant. You have sixty seconds. Make it clean.

[ Kon looked back at Matt. Unconscious. Breathing shallow but present. He repositioned the man as gently as he could, tactile telekinesis cushioning every movement. It didn't matter. The release of pressure alone was going to cause problems. Crush syndrome waited under that beam like a clock counting down. ]

Copy. Sixty seconds. Superboy out.

[ One hand on the beam. One hand on Matt's shoulder. ]

Alright. Here we go. On my count. Don't breathe until I tell you.

[ Kon knew Matt couldn't hear him. Didn't matter. You keep the victim informed. You keep them human. ]

One—

[ He lifted.

Not to fast. He was practically being surgical to not trap them both even more. Though Kon was sure he'd be able to protect the man even if the building did come down. The lower beam came up like it was made of glass. The upper beam settled onto Kon's shoulder instead of collapsing. Concrete dust rained down. The whole building sighed, like it had been holding its breath. Kon groaned as he took the weight. ]

Now. Move. Now.

[ He pulled Matt free in one smooth motion, beam still balanced across his back like a barbell. Cleared the pocket then gently letting the beam fall. Matt laid flat in the hallway. Two fingers to the neck. Pulse: thready but there.

Red tag. Unresponsive. Crush injury, possible internal. Needs rapid transport.

Kon placed the tag around his neck before scooping him into a rescue carry and launched for the exit. The beam crumbled and crashed behind him as he cleared the building's frame from his lift off. Sealing the pocket shut.

He landed at the triage tent as gently as he could. Paramedics swarmed Matt onto a stretcher before Kon's boots even settled. ]

Adult male, unconscious, shallow respirations. Pinned under primary load beam. Lift was clean but pressure release will trigger metabolic issues. Watch for hyperkalemia. No other obvious bleeders.

[ A paramedic nodded and the stretcher rolled.

Kon straightened up. Scanned the building again. No signatures. No movement. All clear. ]

Command, Superboy. Interior is zero. Repeat, zero viable signatures. Structure is secured by fire and police. I'm shifting to transport support. Over.

Command copies. Good work, Superboy.

[ Kon didn't wait for the praise. He was already moving toward the next stretcher, the next handhold, the next thing he could carry.

As above, so below.

The basic principle of magic. By healing the spirit self, the physical body would mend itself faster. She'd taken a leaf from John's book and cast a subtle spell to have the other first responders not think twice about her odd murmuring and hand movements.

The last living was rescued by a boy who could fly, a large red "S" on his chest. She heard the ground team refer to him as Superboy. His face did seem somewhat familiar. Maybe from a billboard? He did have that handsome model/celebrity look to him.

But she wasn't really paying attention to Superboy. There were injured. There were dead. Before Matthew even hit the stretcher, Wari was already conducting astral surgery. She grimaces, having to close her eyes to focus. This one was bad.

Once the man was on the stretcher, Wari laid her hands on his stomach, using magic to stitch and regenerate his damaged tissues. Just enough to ensure he'd make it; a little more to help him walk again after recovery.

It wasn't much, but she did what she could. She watches the other paramedics load him into the ambulance, sirens blaring as they pull out and rush towards the hospital.

Wari sighs, running a hand through her hair. Right. The worst of it was out of the way. Her gaze scanned the triage center one last time. When she was sure that the rest of the victims were all being cared for, she walked between an ambulance and a firetruck.

Machakuy.

A small brown serpent emerges, darting into the rubble.

Neither eyes nor thermal sensory would be useful to her on a mission like this. She had to rely on the guidance of the divine.

4 on this floor. More above.

The tiny ground snake navigates the rubble and crumbling structure. She's guided to the first body.

"Do not be afraid," her spirit calls. The ghost turns to her, confused and disoriented.

"What- what happened to me? Why- Oh God, am I dead?"

Wari smiles apologetically, her spirit self reaching and holding the hands of the deceased security guard. "Yes. I'm so sorry."

She doesn't have to turn. She knew Death's presence well, like an old friend. The deceased looks at the figure behind her warily.

"You shouldn't be scared. You can rest now. I can tell you've been through a lot."

The ghost bows their head, beginning to resign themselves from the mortal realm and transitioning to the hereafter.

"What's your name? I can relay a final message to your loved ones."

"My name is Anthony. Tell... tell my girlfriend, Erika... that she was the love of my life."

Wari nods, watching the spirit leave this realm for the next.

Wari's spirit returns to the snake; the serpent slithers and moves on to the next body. Then the next. With each body she found, she assisted their spirits in the transition to the afterlife. She remembered all of their names and would be sure to relay their final messages to their loved ones.

After several minutes, a butterfly floats out of the building, returning to the triage center.

Wari doesn't bother to disguise herself this time. With a brief 'invisibility' spell (she became hard to notice/pay attention to), she weaves through the crowd and grabs a clipboard. She writes the names of each and every dead person, helping the first responders by providing a complete list for recovery. Families deserved to know. She would allow the professionals to recover the remains for them.

SPICE. Cinnamon

WEATHER EVENT / NATURAL DISASTER. Thunderstorm

COLOR. Gold or dark blue

PLANT. Date Palm or Olive Tree

ANIMAL. Eagle

WEAPON. The Lasso of Hestia, followed by my Shield and the Sword of Athena, but fighting must be a last resort

SUBJECT /MAJOR. Double Major in Psychology and International Relations, double minor in Engineering and Philosophy

GEMSTONE / MINERAL. Carnelian and Amethyst

MAKEUP PRODUCT. Blush

CANDY. Hazelnut chocolate bar

FEAR. The world irreversibly succumbing to suffering and falsehoods

METHOD OF LONG DISTANCE TRAVEL. The Invisible Jet

ART STYLE. Classical and Hellenistic, carved marble, bronze, and stone statues, handmade pottery, and Amazonian armor and weapons on display

HISTORICAL PERIOD. Classical antiquity, where myths, magic, heroes and legends now lost to time are a daily reality

WOOD. Olive wood from an Amazonian ship

MYTHOLOGICAL CREATURE. I am an Amazon so technically, I am already a mythological creature

CELESTIAL BODY. The Divine Feminine light of the Moon

ROMCOM ARCHETYPE. The classic fish out of water

Tagged by: @zatannazee

WEATHER EVENT / NATURAL DISASTER. Thunderstorm: powerful, dramatic and illuminating the darkness.

COLOR. Yellow and black: they’re the colors people see when I arrive. And sometimes people need to see hope coming.

PLANT. Orchid: intelligent, resilient, elegant and requiring care and precision.

ANIMAL. Bat: bats are adaptable. They’re misunderstood. They navigate darkness without fear. They thrive where other creatures get lost. That sounds familiar.

WEAPON. Batarang: it’s versatile. Defensive when it needs to be, precise when it has to be. You don’t throw a batarang to overpower someone… you throw it to create an opening. That’s how I fight.

SUBJECT / MAJOR. Library Science.

GEMSTONE / MINERAL. Sapphire: strong, clear and associated with wisdom. It reminds me that intelligence isn’t about knowing everything, it’s about knowing what to do with what you know.

MAKEUP PRODUCT. Eyeliner: precise, practical and iconic for a vigilante aesthetic.

CANDY. Dark Chocolate Truffle: sophisticated rather than flashy.

FEAR. Helplessness: losing the ability to help others.

METHOD OF LONG-DISTANCE TRAVEL. Grapnel Gun: it’s fast, efficient and lets me choose my own route. Why sit in traffic when Gotham has rooftops?

ART STYLE. Art Deco: Gotham’s architecture and my blend of elegance and modernity.

HISTORICAL PERIOD. Women’s Liberation Movement (1960s–1970s): women were told what they could be for a long time. Then a lot of people decided not to listen anymore. I appreciate that. Every generation of women pushes the door open a little farther. I just happened to put on a cape while doing it.

WOOD. Ebony: dark, strong, refined and associated with craftsmanship.

MYTHOLOGICAL CREATURE. Pegasus: freedom, determination and refusing to stay grounded by what other people expect.

CELESTIAL BODY. The Moon: most of my work happens under it. It doesn’t generate its own light, it reflects it. Sometimes being a hero means helping people find theirs.

ROMCOM ARCHETYPE. The Brilliant Best Friend Who Becomes the Heroine: witty, competent and often the smartest person in the room.

Thanks for tagging me, @wonderwomangoddessoftruth

WEATHER EVENT/NATURAL DISASTER: A good downpour, cleansing, air refreshing and still capable of being destructive so rightfully feared though understated.

COLOR: Pastels honestly. Just rather soft and subdued but still colourful.

PLANT: Chrysanthemums. Pretty, rather unique-looking, come in vivid colours and have medicinal properties. What's not to like?

ANIMAL: African Elephant. Always saw myself as too big, too space occupying but really, social, endurant, loyal and a little dominating whilst being experienced and nurturing.

WEAPON: A gladius? Shorter thus less heavy than a full broadsword, easy enough to figure out and use, capable of harming sure, but in its scabbard it can remain more of a deterance tool.

SUBJECT/MAJOR: Journalism. Duh. With a side of social sciences/politics and a dash of criminology ahahah

GEMSTONE/MINERAL: Sand? Even though it's technically a mix, or perhaps because of it, I think it's good. Understated but pleasant ever present, takes well to time and gets polished by water. Me likey.

MAKEUP PRODUCT: Lip Oil. Some colour. Nurishing. Easy to transport and to use.

CANDY: Rainbow sour belts! Fizzy, fun, with the sweetness coming after, having to be earned a little bit.

FEAR: Not to amount to much, not to have an impact or be memorable.

METHOD OF LONG-DISTANCE TRAVEL: The... plane?

ART STYLE: Two wildly differents ones but Pastoralism and Action Painting are both very special, and speak to a wildly different but pleasant sort of escapism. One's about the scenery, one's about how freeing the medium can be.

HISTORICAL PERIOD: Now. It's easy to get the nostalgia goggles on and think of some romanticized yesterday where it was better, but truly, now, now is a plateau, if not a recession in some aspects, but still, the 21st century, the now, has seen so much progress and we have to keep fighting for those and for more. So now, to continue doing the work that needs to be done rather than rest on our laurels or mourn something that never truly was.

WOOD: Ash wood, I don't know? Seems versatile, stains well.

MYTHOLOGICAL CREATURE: A myrmeke or gold-digging ant just for fun. I admit, I am a little Riordan-pilled when it comes to myrmekes.

CELESTIAL BODY: Pluto :( Rejected little dwarf planet just because it hasn't cleared the neighborhoud around its orbit. So what if more than half of its volume is made of ice and its mass is 5 times smaller than our moon and also substantially less than the combined mass of the other objects in its orbit? It's still the 9th Planet to me!

ROMCOM ARCHETYPE: The black best friend / the token black friend 😬 It's changing, slowly, but yeahhhhh and there's this personal difficulty to figure out my own story/existence/goals, it's easier being a supportive character for others

Thank you for tagging me @batgirlspain

WEATHER EVENT / NATURAL DISASTER. Misting... it would always mist back home.

COLOR. Green.

PLANT. Passionfruit. I love the flowers and the fruit even more.

ANIMAL. Jaguar. Powerful, wise, mysterious, and omniscient.

WEAPON. Illusions. I refuse to cause harm to others as a healer. But association-wise... Longbow?

SUBJECT /MAJOR. If my life had lent itself to higher education, I would have loved to study ethnopharmacology, perhaps with a minor in public policy to better serve my village.

GEMSTONE / MINERAL. Green aventurine.

MAKEUP PRODUCT. Does... achiote face paint count? I make it myself...

CANDY. Melcocha.

FEAR. Samaykita. I guess... speedsters?

METHOD OF LONG DISTANCE TRAVEL. Ever since I've learned portal magic, I've never looked back.

ART STYLE. I love the art from my homeland: Ecuadorian indigenous art with saturated, vibrant colors. Look up: Collar Saraguro, tejidos de Otavalo, artesanías de tagua, & Guayasamin.

HISTORICAL PERIOD. Association-wise, the Spanish conquest of the New World. I wish I could have been there on the front lines protecting my ancestors from the white demons. Perhaps in that time, I would have picked up arms.

WOOD. Guayacán. It's my mother's favorite tree, incredibly resilient, and I love the seasonal displays of yellow flowers.

MYTHOLOGICAL CREATURE. Nagual. I strive to be connected to Spirit and free of man's ego as they are.

CELESTIAL BODY. Pachamama, our beloved Mother Earth.

ROMCOM ARCHETYPE. The clueless, friendly foreigner.

Tagged by: @mara-culous-lady-of-the-bog

Oh, I'm also being told to offer LexCorp's assistance in rebuilding your broadcasting center.

@greaterthansuperman

Hello Superboy! ☺️

Happy Pride Month 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️🌈

To be honest, it is a complex period for GBS News. But! On the bright side, all of our employees that were badged in the building during the attacks have now officially been accounted for.

Thanks to your intervention alongside first responders and other vigilantes, the casualties are quite low. Though of course, each loss is a great one and our thoughts go to the families of those who have passed.

As of currently, GBS News will be emitting from our antenna in Central City whilst the HQ building in Metropolis remains condemned, awaiting demolition. So rebuilding is not exactly in the cards yet. We will await the city's permits and ultimate decisions. Potentially look for a new building...

Thanks for reaching out Superboy, truly! Metropolis' finest for sure 😄

But hey. I'm really glad everyone's accounted for.

And listen, I know its a pretty know thing that I don't get how many things actually cost to get and fix and stuff but I know funerals and stuff is super expressive so if you know any of the families who lost someone, please tell 'em LexCorp's has a $6000 credit at any funeral service in Metropolis.

I'm relatively new to the whole "heroes" scene, but I've dedicated my life to helping those who are hurting. So, whether it be holistic/supplementary care, an extra volunteer, or a shoulder to cry on, @galaxycommunications and the people affected by this tragedy can count on another friendly face to help out in whatever they need.

Violet takes a deep breath, letting the air fill her lungs and ground her. Both Halos and Arabella were still unsure and wary, which was natural when meeting someone new. Her first objective was to establish a friendship first.

"Que bacán, me parece una forma increíble de autoexpresión, Halos. Que lindo que tanto su hermano como usted sean tan áviles y creativos. Me da envidia."

She thought it was amazing to have such a lovely and personal shared interest with a brother. Violeta was an only child herself, but still treasured the memories she had of learning traditional medicine with her grandmother. Family was something she deeply valued.

"Thank you, Arabella. I did my best to make it comfortable. Please feel free to leave whenever you'd like; you're not obligated to stay here by any means." With that, she softly closes the door and strides into her living area.

"So it would seem you both have brothers then?"

She gestures for them to get comfortable in the space she prepared, whether it be on the couch or the nest of blankets and pillows she had on the floor. She briefly disappears into her kitchen to turn off the stovetop, then sits down on the floor herself.

"Your brother was very kind to let you borrow his clothes for tonight," she lightheartedly jabs at Arabella, knowing she probably took them without asking.

"Though I do have to confess, you both are much younger than what I was expecting... I sincerely apologize, but I cannot conduct an Ayahuasca ceremony with you two in good faith. It would go against my morals and values."

She bows her head and holds her hand over her heart as she earnestly apologizes and explains.

"You both came all this way... it was my mistake for assuming and not asking. I'm afraid I still have much to learn about the internet and modern society."

Maywa... this is boring. Why don't you mess with them a little?

The shaman ignores the goddess whispering in her ears.

"But, I don't want you two to have come here in vain. If you'd like, I could read your tarot cards? I could also fix you both a relaxing tea, or, if I don't bore you, we can just talk."

Violeta hopes she doesn't lose their interest, though she wouldn't blame them if she did. Tarot readings usually captured the imagination of most non-magicians, and it could be just the starter they needed to open a deeper conversation. She just didn't want to scare them off. She really wanted to help them.

At first, Arabella was ticked off at the rejection but the then apology made her soften ever so slightly. She could tell it was genuine. The woman was clearly new to Gotham. “It is alright. If anything I can admire that you stick to your values so clearly. It is… A good trait to have.”

She mulled Violeta’s words in her head. Something about the woman seemed off. The slight delay between her sentences that seemed fitting for another conversation. Or maybe Arabella herself was just too used to being around people with hallucinations and was projecting onto her. She wouldn’t put that outside the realm of possibility.

“I don’t mind tarot. I dun- I don’t know about Angel but I’m due for mine. My normal reader got arrested for something or other and I’ve hardly had time to bail her out. Either way, you’re hardly boring. If anything I find you highly interesting.”

The younger had a glint in her eyes. One that spoke of fascination and a thirst for knowledge. She wanted to understand Violeta, to uncover her secrets and hold them above her. A habit she had that she was trying to get rid of. But it was hard when the woman across seemed to have many.

"I'll stay and watch Arabella's reading if that's ok."

He cleared his throat trying to erase the accent that still lingered in his voice. He swallowed a bad feeling rising in his chest when Violeta mentioned the tea and..bowed the way she did. It reminded him of someone he didn't want to think about tonight. Not sober at least.

Arabella nudged Halos, giving him a small look and indicating with her fingers that after the evening they could go out and smoke something. She had rolled some joints earlier and had them in her bag.

“As for tea… What type is it? I’m rather picky with my tastes.”

The girl would stay. She would get Violeta comfortable and peel away the layers until she could uncover her secrets. Arabella hated not knowing and right now it felt like there was a lot she did not know.

Yet here in her apartment, with just these two, she could sense their deep guilt. She may have to do a protection spell for herself to keep herself from taking in too much of it. Adjusting the poncho draped over her shoulders, she grounds herself in the moment and does her best to press forward and be a decent host.

"I see. You're more than welcome to say and watch, Halos. And my condolences to your usual reader, Miss Arabella. I hope my divination is up to your standards."

With a playful glint in her eye, she summons two decks of cards that seemed appropriate enough for the occasion. The boxes come floating in from another room, and once in front of the shaman, they open, the cards fanning out and dancing in the air. Violeta manipulates the smoke rising from the ashes of the palo santo to swirl around the cards before returning the cards to neat piles to sit in front of her on the blanket. Zatanna taught her all about the importance of putting on a decent show.

"I'll assume you know the drill, then? What kind of reading would please you today, my lady?"

She smiles like she's inviting Arabella to play with her, despite Violeta being the one to offer a service. She winks at Halos, a cheeky bid for him to enjoy the show.

"On matters of tea... I believe a rose, passionflower, chamomile, and clover honey infusion would suit the occasion. Shall I prepare it now or after the reading?"