Fic: Nothing Left to Lose - The Wind in the Will
This would've been posted closer to Hallows if RR3 hadn't kicked me into a fantrum XDDD But that's okay coz I have a special fic set aside for November Eve. However, I've pretty much caught up with myself so the next fic may be a little bit. But I have contingency plans if that happens, ie spare fic kicking around XD
No, Aleister Crowley didn't practice what he preached. At least not on this particular principle.
Previously on Nothing Left to Lose:
Prologue
Beside Myself
Boys Will Be Girls
Thorns
Title: The Wind in the Will
Author: Katzedecimal
Rating: G
Characters: Pied Piper, Green Lantern
Summary: Piper must endure a massive exposition attack from Dea ex Graveyard.
If anything, this Earth seemed even darker than his own. He'd spent some time wandering the city streets and the air of despair was thick. Now he was walking through another graveyard. He stepped carefully, watching the dark shadows on the moonlit ground. All he needed was a sprained ankle...
Light flared abruptly behind him, painting the cemetary in an emerald glow. "So you're the one."
Piper turned to see a masked woman in a cloak and long gown stepping out of the shadows. "I'm sorry," he said, "You were looking for me?"
"Not I; the Lantern was," she indicated the green lamp she held on its long staff, "You're not from around here."
"No. I'm just passing through. Just visiting."
"You've come a long way then."
You've no idea, Hartley thought, "Yeah. That's.. an interesting lantern you've got."
"The Green Lantern has the power to resurrect the dead, long enough to complete unfinished business," the woman sighed and looked down at a nearby grave, "Alas for Mary Marvel, it can only do so once. She was unable to complete her task before the Superman killed her again. But such was the nature of her mission."
"Superman?" Hartley said, puzzled, "The guy from Krypton? The big blue boyscout?"
The woman smiled, "Ah you are from that Earth? Or one of its mirrors. Ours is called the Tangent Earth, because events do not reflect here in quite the same way. For instance, I understand that on your Earth, the Joker is a vicious sociopath. Here," she waved a hand at the grave, "Mary Marvel was one of three women sharing the image of the Joker. She was an anarchist who used laughter and many clever gadgets to mock the establishment."
Hartley had to smile, "Sounds just like Trickster." He sighed sadly, "I wish your lantern could resurrect Trickster."
"Who is Trickster?"
"My friend, James Jesse. Giovanni Guiseppe, I guess, but he went by James. He was murdered, at the behest of some god from Apokalips."
"My sympathies," the woman said sincerely, "Even we have heard of the Gods of Apokalips; their cruelty is legendary across the multiverse. Which one was it?"
"I don't know. He never said his name," Hartley said. He went on to describe the god and the ordeal he'd put Hartley through. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to dump all this on you."
The woman glanced up at her lantern and shrugged. "Sounds like DeSaad," she said, "Chief Torturer of Apokalips."
"He's good at his job," Hartley said numbly, "Thing is, he did all of that to break me. He was after me. I still don't understand why..."
"Power."
"I figured that much out. He said my power came from this Anti-Life Equation. He said I channel through my music."
"Not just that. You've noticed the lantern; on your world, Green Lantern is quite a different nature, don't you think?"
"Yes," Hartley said, not quite seeing the connection, "They have power rings, they can shape the rings' energy into whatever they need. They have to be very strong-willed in order to use the rings..." He trailed off, suddenly seeing a connection, "The Anti-Life Equation destroys will... The... Green Lanterns channel it too?"
"Just the opposite: Liberty requires a strong will." Hartley nodded, understanding. The woman tilted her head, "And you have a very strong will."
Hartley had to smirk a little, "Yeah but I'm no Green Lantern."
"Then explain that?" the woman gestured towards Hartley's face.
His eyes. "...I can't. I have no idea what it is or where it came from. It wasn't there when I was younger."
"When did it start?"
"After I reformed. It's been getting stronger ever since. By the time I escaped from Iron Heights I had to wear the glasses all the time, to keep people from noticing. It's not just me though, it's in my rats too, and the people I take over when I play my flute. But that's recent, that never used to happen."
"Would you say that, when you reformed, you stopped controlling the will of others, and began instead to control the will of yourself?" Hartley was silent. "Your power, turned on yourself, building and feeding on itself and becoming self-control. And now, you are very powerful."
Hartley said nothing, digesting all of the implications. "So.. what are you saying?"
"Your power, their power, the power of the Anti-Life Equation -- all to do with will. Will power. The Green Lanterns can control their wills but not others; those with the Anti-Life Equation can control the wills of others but not their own. But you can do both, and if DeSaad could control you..."
"He tried to break me," Hartley whispered, "He nearly succeeded, but then I heard him say he'd killed Trickster, manipulated his death. I'd probably have an easier time accepting it if I didn't know that."
The woman's lantern sparked, startling both of them, and she reached up and smacked it. "Something wrong?" Hartley asked.
The woman shook her head, "It's acting weird lately."
"You've got a lantern that resurrects the dead and you say it's acting weird."
"Oh yeah." The lantern sputtered again and a large spark jumped from it, earthing itself into Hartley's flute. "...I have no idea what just happened."
Hartley inspected his flute but it appeared undamaged. He looked up, "Is your Pied Piper still alive?"
The woman tilted her head, "That would have been a Sea Devil named Garth Curry, called the Siren because of his hypnotic voice."
"That sounds about right," Hartley nodded, "It's a trend I've been noticing. In all the worlds I've been to, you could count the number of surviving Tricksters on one hand, and not many are intact, either. One's paralyzed, another is blind, one took the bullet in the shoulder, one yanked her Piper off the train. The number of surviving Pipers isn't much higher. It's probably a coincidence but it's so weird it stood out to me." Hartley looked up, knowing he sounded like a lunatic, "On worlds where both of them died, things seem to be really dark and bleak. The Anti-Life Equation's taken over, or the OMACs have rounded up all of the metas..."
"Or the Superman won," the woman nodded. Her lantern spit again and she smacked it.
"On worlds where one of them is still alive, things are struggling but not gone yet. And on worlds where both of them are alive, it's still an even match. The whole 'good versus evil' thing, I mean."
"Take a guess as to why?"
Hartley shook his head, "I haven't a clue. But it's one heck of a coincidence."
"Not a coincidence at all, as you've surmised," the woman said with a little smile, "The other two women of the Joker are still alive but they lost their power when they lost Mary. There's something about Mary -- you're right, she was a trickster. You know what a trickster is, right?"
"Are you talking the mythical kind? Like Loki? Coyote?"
"That's right. The thing about the tricksters is, whether their actions are right or wrong depends entirely on the point of view of who's judging them."
"Trickster didn't even have any powers."
"Neither did Mary. They didn't need to; they were the power. They had the power most feared by those who would control -- Anarchy."
Hartley looked up, "I get you. People think anarchy is lawlessness but it isn't, it's no need for law enforcement because people enforce themselves. Trickster pulled a lot of wacky stunts but he didn't hurt people and even the property damage was minimal. Mainly he was just a public nuisance."
"Exactly -- the Tricksters were living examples that anarchy can work. They were free will, liberty, no one can control them and they give no real need to be controlled. The authorities hate people like that."
"So, why are all the Tricksters dying?"
"There are forces acting throughout the multiverse that seek not to tip the balance of good and evil, but to destroy it. And to do that, they're eliminating the fulcrum that the balance rests on."
"And that's Trickster?" Hartley passed his hand over his face, "They're... hunting all the Tricksters, in all the universes, and the whole of good and evil crashes because of that? I'm sorry, I just can't believe that. Good, evil, love, will, fair play -- that stuff doesn't exist in nature. It's all human stuff, it's not real."
"It's real; it's the next step up. It's through sapient beings that the universe becomes aware of itself. There are evil forces destroying the balance but they're not the only power in the universes. The universes are trying to restore their natural equilibrium."
"How do you know all of this?"
"The lamp took its own trip through the multiverse. It learned things."
"This lamp that you say resurrects the dead, but it glows green."
"Oh yeah. The dead with unfinished business have a very strong will."
Hartley thought about that. "So... if Trickster's the fulcrum, where do I fit in? The Pied Pipers?"
"The Piper at the Gates of Dawn?"
Hartley was silent for a moment. "'This is the place of my song-dream, the place the music played to me,'" he whispered, as if in a trance. Then he glanced up, "There aren't many of us left either."
"What's missing most from your life, Mr. Piper? Be honest."
Hartley hesitated then looked away. The answer had jumped to mind immediately but it sounded so childish. "That's silly."
"So's a platypus," the woman said, kicking her sputtering lantern. The lamp flared and both of them gasped. "Wow! Now that's a strong will!"
"'Here, in this holy place, here if anywhere, surely we shall find him,'" Hartley whispered, "James!" He stared up at the ghostly apparition, followed the shining twist of light to his own wrist, and felt the pressure of tears, "Oh James... You're still bound to me?"
"Of course he is; he has to be. 'Do as thou will shall be the whole of the law,'" the woman quoted, "Most people forget about the second part. 'Love is the law, Love under Will.'"
Hartley was silent, staring at the green-glowing phantom of his friend. "But... we were never... We were friends, off and on, but that's all." "Not him, not now"..Oh James...
"It never even started, here. The Sea Devils are secretive; Mary Marvel barely even knew of Siren's existance. Our world's been botched for decades. After Mary and the Siren died, it just got worse."
Hartley stared up. "The best time of my life," he said softly, "I was in love, I had a steady boyfriend; Wally was my best friend; James and I were close and the world seemed a little brighter, despite the recession. You could still get justice, you could still find an honest cop... Listening to Bart chatter on about his Legion friends, the future held promise. Then James took that damned candle and it seems like that's when everything started to change. James changed, and it seems like he took everything down with him." Hartley shook his head, "You're saying that the world would be a happy shiny place just because Trickster and I are friends?"
"It's not quite that simple and you're not the only symptoms but... pretty much, yeah. The chances of it are a lot higher, anyways."
"But... it all sounds so ludicrous."
"So does a platypus."
He couldn't argue that; the platypus had to be the most ridiculous thing on the planet and even when you saw one, you still had trouble believing it was real. He shook his head, bewildered, "I just... We're just C-listers, maybe D-listers..."
"It's not so much who you are as what you represent. They say that self-control is the hardest of all... You have the power to make people do what you want; it must be very hard for you to resist using it. You could use it to make people into model citizens and create a utopia, as the Superman did."
Hartley shook his head, "But that's not any different. It sounds good but really, it isn't."
The woman gestured at the phantom of James Jesse then looked back at Hartley, "'Do as thou will shall be the whole of the law,' and the law is 'Love under Will.' That's the natural way, Mr. Piper, the way the universe wants to be. The people who love power tell us it's impossible, but the Trickster and the Piper show us that it's not. That's why you're such a threat." She looked back up at the phantasm. "'Do as thou will shall be the whole of the law,' and the law is 'Love under Will.' And when the two of you are supporting each other, watching each other's backs, you form a fulcrum."
Hartley sagged, defeated. "It's just... so hard to believe we could be that important..."
"You're seeing the evidence," the woman smiled, "Do you think it's a coincidence that you're here? You're travelling the multiverse and seeing what effects the relationship of Piper and Trickster has on the worlds."
"There's one," Hartley murmured, "Where they've been together since they met. Their world seems... right. There's no Iron Heights, Cold still follows his own rules and he's still fighting with Roscoe about Lisa because they're both still alive. It's not perfect, their Max Lord is trying to eliminate the metas and their OMACs carry the Anti-Life... but they're still holding their own, maybe even winning. There's still justice there, that can't be bought. People still smile there."
"There are evil forces destroying the balance but they're not the only power in the universes. The universes themselves are trying to restore their natural equilibrium."
"They say there are fifty-two worlds in the multiverse," Hartley murmured, "And the number of survivors is so small."
She gave him a sympathetic look, "I don't know what you're looking for, Mr. Piper, or where your journey will end, but it strikes me as a last-ditch effort by the multiverse to save the natural will."
* * * *
The flute tones echoed down the golden tunnel. He didn't really need it once it was opened, but he kept it for the sound.
The Piper at the Gates of Dawn.
Pan, the woodland god who played the syrinx flute, whose music could arouse inspiration, emotion, eroticism, and the special kind of fear called Pan-ic.
...who was the son of Hermes, god of inventors, travellors, thieves and orators, whom Homer described as 'blandly cunning, a robber, a cattle driver, a bringer of dreams, a watcher by night, a thief at the gates, one who was soon to show forth wonderful deeds among the deathless gods.' He even had the flying shoes.
The Celtic bard and filidh - poet, magician, musician, judge, lawgiver... Also critic, satirist whose scorn could raise boils on the face of the target, probably due to repeated face-palming. A protected position later taken by the Medieval jester.
Bragi, god of music, who saw Loki for what he was and challenged him, only to be mocked by him and the other gods.
Coyote, the archetypal trickster, and Crow, sometimes thought to cry 'law! law!,' who sang the eagle to sleep in order to steal the sun.
...some 'law' I am, though. Couldn't even bring down the Rogues properly. Couldn't even finish Trickster's work. Why did I let Cold get to me, when I had nothing left to lose?
He walked on through the vibrating tunnel. At least he understood what it was doing and he was starting to understand the how. He still didn't understand the why.
There were fifty two worlds in the multiverse and he'd travelled through fifty one. The boom tube opened with its characteristic utterance. Last stop, everybody off. He stepped out and looked up at the painted sky, to where the sun was just peeping over the horizon. The Piper, at the gates of dawn.
"My god!! Ratty?!?"
He turned then stepped back in surprise. The figure in the blue and white parka took off his goggles to stare at him, shock written all over his face. "Rathanial Hathaway?!"
My defense is that if DC can get away with premises even more ridiculous than this one, so can I >.
No, Aleister Crowley didn't practice what he preached. At least not on this particular principle.
Previously on Nothing Left to Lose:
Prologue
Beside Myself
Boys Will Be Girls
Thorns
Title: The Wind in the Will
Author: Katzedecimal
Rating: G
Characters: Pied Piper, Green Lantern
Summary: Piper must endure a massive exposition attack from Dea ex Graveyard.
If anything, this Earth seemed even darker than his own. He'd spent some time wandering the city streets and the air of despair was thick. Now he was walking through another graveyard. He stepped carefully, watching the dark shadows on the moonlit ground. All he needed was a sprained ankle...
Light flared abruptly behind him, painting the cemetary in an emerald glow. "So you're the one."
Piper turned to see a masked woman in a cloak and long gown stepping out of the shadows. "I'm sorry," he said, "You were looking for me?"
"Not I; the Lantern was," she indicated the green lamp she held on its long staff, "You're not from around here."
"No. I'm just passing through. Just visiting."
"You've come a long way then."
You've no idea, Hartley thought, "Yeah. That's.. an interesting lantern you've got."
"The Green Lantern has the power to resurrect the dead, long enough to complete unfinished business," the woman sighed and looked down at a nearby grave, "Alas for Mary Marvel, it can only do so once. She was unable to complete her task before the Superman killed her again. But such was the nature of her mission."
"Superman?" Hartley said, puzzled, "The guy from Krypton? The big blue boyscout?"
The woman smiled, "Ah you are from that Earth? Or one of its mirrors. Ours is called the Tangent Earth, because events do not reflect here in quite the same way. For instance, I understand that on your Earth, the Joker is a vicious sociopath. Here," she waved a hand at the grave, "Mary Marvel was one of three women sharing the image of the Joker. She was an anarchist who used laughter and many clever gadgets to mock the establishment."
Hartley had to smile, "Sounds just like Trickster." He sighed sadly, "I wish your lantern could resurrect Trickster."
"Who is Trickster?"
"My friend, James Jesse. Giovanni Guiseppe, I guess, but he went by James. He was murdered, at the behest of some god from Apokalips."
"My sympathies," the woman said sincerely, "Even we have heard of the Gods of Apokalips; their cruelty is legendary across the multiverse. Which one was it?"
"I don't know. He never said his name," Hartley said. He went on to describe the god and the ordeal he'd put Hartley through. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to dump all this on you."
The woman glanced up at her lantern and shrugged. "Sounds like DeSaad," she said, "Chief Torturer of Apokalips."
"He's good at his job," Hartley said numbly, "Thing is, he did all of that to break me. He was after me. I still don't understand why..."
"Power."
"I figured that much out. He said my power came from this Anti-Life Equation. He said I channel through my music."
"Not just that. You've noticed the lantern; on your world, Green Lantern is quite a different nature, don't you think?"
"Yes," Hartley said, not quite seeing the connection, "They have power rings, they can shape the rings' energy into whatever they need. They have to be very strong-willed in order to use the rings..." He trailed off, suddenly seeing a connection, "The Anti-Life Equation destroys will... The... Green Lanterns channel it too?"
"Just the opposite: Liberty requires a strong will." Hartley nodded, understanding. The woman tilted her head, "And you have a very strong will."
Hartley had to smirk a little, "Yeah but I'm no Green Lantern."
"Then explain that?" the woman gestured towards Hartley's face.
His eyes. "...I can't. I have no idea what it is or where it came from. It wasn't there when I was younger."
"When did it start?"
"After I reformed. It's been getting stronger ever since. By the time I escaped from Iron Heights I had to wear the glasses all the time, to keep people from noticing. It's not just me though, it's in my rats too, and the people I take over when I play my flute. But that's recent, that never used to happen."
"Would you say that, when you reformed, you stopped controlling the will of others, and began instead to control the will of yourself?" Hartley was silent. "Your power, turned on yourself, building and feeding on itself and becoming self-control. And now, you are very powerful."
Hartley said nothing, digesting all of the implications. "So.. what are you saying?"
"Your power, their power, the power of the Anti-Life Equation -- all to do with will. Will power. The Green Lanterns can control their wills but not others; those with the Anti-Life Equation can control the wills of others but not their own. But you can do both, and if DeSaad could control you..."
"He tried to break me," Hartley whispered, "He nearly succeeded, but then I heard him say he'd killed Trickster, manipulated his death. I'd probably have an easier time accepting it if I didn't know that."
The woman's lantern sparked, startling both of them, and she reached up and smacked it. "Something wrong?" Hartley asked.
The woman shook her head, "It's acting weird lately."
"You've got a lantern that resurrects the dead and you say it's acting weird."
"Oh yeah." The lantern sputtered again and a large spark jumped from it, earthing itself into Hartley's flute. "...I have no idea what just happened."
Hartley inspected his flute but it appeared undamaged. He looked up, "Is your Pied Piper still alive?"
The woman tilted her head, "That would have been a Sea Devil named Garth Curry, called the Siren because of his hypnotic voice."
"That sounds about right," Hartley nodded, "It's a trend I've been noticing. In all the worlds I've been to, you could count the number of surviving Tricksters on one hand, and not many are intact, either. One's paralyzed, another is blind, one took the bullet in the shoulder, one yanked her Piper off the train. The number of surviving Pipers isn't much higher. It's probably a coincidence but it's so weird it stood out to me." Hartley looked up, knowing he sounded like a lunatic, "On worlds where both of them died, things seem to be really dark and bleak. The Anti-Life Equation's taken over, or the OMACs have rounded up all of the metas..."
"Or the Superman won," the woman nodded. Her lantern spit again and she smacked it.
"On worlds where one of them is still alive, things are struggling but not gone yet. And on worlds where both of them are alive, it's still an even match. The whole 'good versus evil' thing, I mean."
"Take a guess as to why?"
Hartley shook his head, "I haven't a clue. But it's one heck of a coincidence."
"Not a coincidence at all, as you've surmised," the woman said with a little smile, "The other two women of the Joker are still alive but they lost their power when they lost Mary. There's something about Mary -- you're right, she was a trickster. You know what a trickster is, right?"
"Are you talking the mythical kind? Like Loki? Coyote?"
"That's right. The thing about the tricksters is, whether their actions are right or wrong depends entirely on the point of view of who's judging them."
"Trickster didn't even have any powers."
"Neither did Mary. They didn't need to; they were the power. They had the power most feared by those who would control -- Anarchy."
Hartley looked up, "I get you. People think anarchy is lawlessness but it isn't, it's no need for law enforcement because people enforce themselves. Trickster pulled a lot of wacky stunts but he didn't hurt people and even the property damage was minimal. Mainly he was just a public nuisance."
"Exactly -- the Tricksters were living examples that anarchy can work. They were free will, liberty, no one can control them and they give no real need to be controlled. The authorities hate people like that."
"So, why are all the Tricksters dying?"
"There are forces acting throughout the multiverse that seek not to tip the balance of good and evil, but to destroy it. And to do that, they're eliminating the fulcrum that the balance rests on."
"And that's Trickster?" Hartley passed his hand over his face, "They're... hunting all the Tricksters, in all the universes, and the whole of good and evil crashes because of that? I'm sorry, I just can't believe that. Good, evil, love, will, fair play -- that stuff doesn't exist in nature. It's all human stuff, it's not real."
"It's real; it's the next step up. It's through sapient beings that the universe becomes aware of itself. There are evil forces destroying the balance but they're not the only power in the universes. The universes are trying to restore their natural equilibrium."
"How do you know all of this?"
"The lamp took its own trip through the multiverse. It learned things."
"This lamp that you say resurrects the dead, but it glows green."
"Oh yeah. The dead with unfinished business have a very strong will."
Hartley thought about that. "So... if Trickster's the fulcrum, where do I fit in? The Pied Pipers?"
"The Piper at the Gates of Dawn?"
Hartley was silent for a moment. "'This is the place of my song-dream, the place the music played to me,'" he whispered, as if in a trance. Then he glanced up, "There aren't many of us left either."
"What's missing most from your life, Mr. Piper? Be honest."
Hartley hesitated then looked away. The answer had jumped to mind immediately but it sounded so childish. "That's silly."
"So's a platypus," the woman said, kicking her sputtering lantern. The lamp flared and both of them gasped. "Wow! Now that's a strong will!"
"'Here, in this holy place, here if anywhere, surely we shall find him,'" Hartley whispered, "James!" He stared up at the ghostly apparition, followed the shining twist of light to his own wrist, and felt the pressure of tears, "Oh James... You're still bound to me?"
"Of course he is; he has to be. 'Do as thou will shall be the whole of the law,'" the woman quoted, "Most people forget about the second part. 'Love is the law, Love under Will.'"
Hartley was silent, staring at the green-glowing phantom of his friend. "But... we were never... We were friends, off and on, but that's all." "Not him, not now"..Oh James...
"It never even started, here. The Sea Devils are secretive; Mary Marvel barely even knew of Siren's existance. Our world's been botched for decades. After Mary and the Siren died, it just got worse."
Hartley stared up. "The best time of my life," he said softly, "I was in love, I had a steady boyfriend; Wally was my best friend; James and I were close and the world seemed a little brighter, despite the recession. You could still get justice, you could still find an honest cop... Listening to Bart chatter on about his Legion friends, the future held promise. Then James took that damned candle and it seems like that's when everything started to change. James changed, and it seems like he took everything down with him." Hartley shook his head, "You're saying that the world would be a happy shiny place just because Trickster and I are friends?"
"It's not quite that simple and you're not the only symptoms but... pretty much, yeah. The chances of it are a lot higher, anyways."
"But... it all sounds so ludicrous."
"So does a platypus."
He couldn't argue that; the platypus had to be the most ridiculous thing on the planet and even when you saw one, you still had trouble believing it was real. He shook his head, bewildered, "I just... We're just C-listers, maybe D-listers..."
"It's not so much who you are as what you represent. They say that self-control is the hardest of all... You have the power to make people do what you want; it must be very hard for you to resist using it. You could use it to make people into model citizens and create a utopia, as the Superman did."
Hartley shook his head, "But that's not any different. It sounds good but really, it isn't."
The woman gestured at the phantom of James Jesse then looked back at Hartley, "'Do as thou will shall be the whole of the law,' and the law is 'Love under Will.' That's the natural way, Mr. Piper, the way the universe wants to be. The people who love power tell us it's impossible, but the Trickster and the Piper show us that it's not. That's why you're such a threat." She looked back up at the phantasm. "'Do as thou will shall be the whole of the law,' and the law is 'Love under Will.' And when the two of you are supporting each other, watching each other's backs, you form a fulcrum."
Hartley sagged, defeated. "It's just... so hard to believe we could be that important..."
"You're seeing the evidence," the woman smiled, "Do you think it's a coincidence that you're here? You're travelling the multiverse and seeing what effects the relationship of Piper and Trickster has on the worlds."
"There's one," Hartley murmured, "Where they've been together since they met. Their world seems... right. There's no Iron Heights, Cold still follows his own rules and he's still fighting with Roscoe about Lisa because they're both still alive. It's not perfect, their Max Lord is trying to eliminate the metas and their OMACs carry the Anti-Life... but they're still holding their own, maybe even winning. There's still justice there, that can't be bought. People still smile there."
"There are evil forces destroying the balance but they're not the only power in the universes. The universes themselves are trying to restore their natural equilibrium."
"They say there are fifty-two worlds in the multiverse," Hartley murmured, "And the number of survivors is so small."
She gave him a sympathetic look, "I don't know what you're looking for, Mr. Piper, or where your journey will end, but it strikes me as a last-ditch effort by the multiverse to save the natural will."
* * * *
The flute tones echoed down the golden tunnel. He didn't really need it once it was opened, but he kept it for the sound.
The Piper at the Gates of Dawn.
Pan, the woodland god who played the syrinx flute, whose music could arouse inspiration, emotion, eroticism, and the special kind of fear called Pan-ic.
...who was the son of Hermes, god of inventors, travellors, thieves and orators, whom Homer described as 'blandly cunning, a robber, a cattle driver, a bringer of dreams, a watcher by night, a thief at the gates, one who was soon to show forth wonderful deeds among the deathless gods.' He even had the flying shoes.
The Celtic bard and filidh - poet, magician, musician, judge, lawgiver... Also critic, satirist whose scorn could raise boils on the face of the target, probably due to repeated face-palming. A protected position later taken by the Medieval jester.
Bragi, god of music, who saw Loki for what he was and challenged him, only to be mocked by him and the other gods.
Coyote, the archetypal trickster, and Crow, sometimes thought to cry 'law! law!,' who sang the eagle to sleep in order to steal the sun.
...some 'law' I am, though. Couldn't even bring down the Rogues properly. Couldn't even finish Trickster's work. Why did I let Cold get to me, when I had nothing left to lose?
He walked on through the vibrating tunnel. At least he understood what it was doing and he was starting to understand the how. He still didn't understand the why.
There were fifty two worlds in the multiverse and he'd travelled through fifty one. The boom tube opened with its characteristic utterance. Last stop, everybody off. He stepped out and looked up at the painted sky, to where the sun was just peeping over the horizon. The Piper, at the gates of dawn.
"My god!! Ratty?!?"
He turned then stepped back in surprise. The figure in the blue and white parka took off his goggles to stare at him, shock written all over his face. "Rathanial Hathaway?!"
My defense is that if DC can get away with premises even more ridiculous than this one, so can I >.