All characters, settings etc associated with Young Justice and DC, and Kung Fu Hustle, are not owned by me. I merely own that which is unfamiliar and am not making any profit off this fiction venture.
Chapter Warning(s): coarse language, violence, discrimination via Purists, allusion to child abuse
Maelstrom
Sha'lain'a
"The foremost art of kings is the power to endure hatred."
Seneca
6
Shayeris, Atlantis : August 11, 2010 – 10:36 UTC-03
Calvin is perched behind the shop's counter and looking through the intel on the hard drive we had gotten from the Dashti incident. He succeeded in decrypting most of it; thanks mostly to the training David put him through after recognizing his affinity for computers. Since getting out Calvin has been keeping up with the advancements in technology and the changing society of the tech giants, coders and hackers. Besides helping out with the shop he's done some freelance computer work for a few local places.
He took on some extra work when Kalla was starting her military training, because while the bulk of it was paid for by the city-state there were some excess costs necessary due to her physiology. The development of her water-bearers, which allowed her to later on keep up a little better in the practical study of sorcery, was costly and unfortunately not something covered by the city-state. The additional medical check-ups she had to go through to be deemed strong enough to even be trained, much less advance, were covered thank goodness.
Taxes are getting worse, unfortunately. They were already decent, when one considers that they pay for our healthcare, military training, sorcery education and such, but both Calvin and I keep our eyes on the studies done that focus on taxes across Atlantis. They vary, of course. Tritonis, after the issue with the Sirens, may be growing but remains in a fiscally unfortunate place and could not afford the taxes those in Poseidonis pay. But there is a trend that favours the Pure Atlanteans, not only in taxes but also in simply getting jobs or being accepted into a number of advanced academic institutions.
Growing up, I never paid much attention to the financial differences between the Pure Atlanteans and Impure, and the Kordax Cursed Atlanteans and not. That is, I did not pay attention beyond the obvious fact that the wealthiest Atlanteans were Pure and, usually, not blonde. It became pretty obvious though when I was trying to get the shop started that the financial differences were some of the most crippling leftovers from the old systems of taxation and employment. They remain entrenched in Atlantis and resulted in my having to swim through more hoops than I otherwise would have if I was Pure or not blonde. I forged more documents trying to get this shop started than I ever forged at any other time.
Thankfully, all existence of Kor'dia'ax was effectively erased by my birth family out of their shame of being related to a Cursed One. A birth certificate for Sha'lain'a was simple to create, as were the death certificates for her parents, and all evidence of her education on the surface – something rare but not unheard of in Atlantis, and because of its rarity it was significantly more difficult to verify.
It was easy. I had learned the systems that governed Atlantis through years of observation and being thrown through the teeth of it. Once you knew those systems they were simple enough to exploit.
It was not until Kalladura'ham became Aqualass that anyone seriously confronted me with suspicions of my less-than-legal method of getting my shop started. Orin, naturally, was the one to confront me. He was sympathetic though, which led to him quietly providing me with legitimate documents that proved my existence as Sha'lain'a and triple-confirmed my right to own and operate my shop. Calvin knows of that exchange, but Kalla does not. I have no intentions on sharing the details of my more recent criminal activity with her. It would put her in an awkward position. She knows, broadly speaking, of my teenage years of crime, with David omitted of course, but all of those years were expunged on Orin's word during the same exchange that made me legally exist as Sha'lain'a of Shayeris.
I seem to have developed a pattern of exploiting the system. That is not surprising in the least.
"Might have something here," Calvin says, pulling me out of my musing as I reorganize a set of anklets.
"What is it?" I ask, moving to look over his shoulder.
"It's a collection of files on the League of Shadows-"
My eyebrows shoot up, "What?"
"You remember them?" he asks, glancing back at me.
"Of course," I nod, "David mentioned them once or twice, as did Gina. She seems to greatly dislike their leader, claims he 'took the easy way' in becoming immortal."
"These don't mention Gina or David. They do mention Cliff Caulder quite a bit though."
"The only Caulder that Kalla knew of was Niles Caulder."
"He doesn't have any brothers and I doubt someone who names their kid 'Niles' will name their other one 'Cliff'."
"It's possible."
"Doesn't have any cousins that I could find," Calvin adds. "Trying to follow the email trail got me nowhere. I have no idea, Sha'lain. You think there are more of those creatures Gina and Sean saw?"
"It's likely," I nod. "There was a team of them there, and Gina said they seemed to have gone through training of some sort. They could have a society we just don't know anything about yet."
"They must know English, or at least have a way to translate languages into one they understand," Calvin says, "that's the only way they'd be able to get enough information on the Doctor to justify targeting him. They could be using this name as an alias."
"Why though? It seems like an unnecessary amount of effort to get him to work with them through this Caulder name, then just kill him."
"He must have been doing something they didn't like, so they figured killing him was the way to get rid of the problem."
"I can understand that, but then what was he doing that he was so uncomfortable about?"
"Something with the League of Shadows, apparently," says Calvin. "I still have no idea what nanorobotics, gene transfer therapy, neurobiology, and magic have in common though."
"They're all disciplines that you need to study in-depth?"
"That's true of virtually everything though."
"I know," I sigh.
"Dashti wouldn't talk to you guys at all?"
"He would not say anything, not even to Sean. I even asked his wife and she didn't know anything. Whoever his enemies are must have threatened his family if he talked about anything."
"Or he thinks they did. Is he being protected?"
"He is reluctant to get anyone else involved. Sean and Gina are trying though, and Chevy sent two of her senior wolves down there to do some investigative work without the Doctor knowing. They are leaving the tech stuff to us though."
Calvin sighs, "I'm not sure Atlantean tech will be much help here."
"I did not think so."
Ring!
We look up to see a young Atlantean swimming into the shop. She's short, lacks any visible underwater adaptations, has her dark hair pulled back into a collection of braids which, when paired with her almond shaped brown eyes and light brown skin, makes me think of the natives of the area around Kolpos.
"Coci, it's 11 already?" I exclaim, darting forward.
The 20-year-old nods, looking alarmed. She fidgets with the blue wrap around her hips, straining the thin scars on her hands. Quickly, I get her settled at the front of the shop amidst the hair accessories.
She's a new hire. I had another employee have to leave, making the huge decision to leave Shayeris completely and go further north. Since the Gulf incident though I've been getting a number of displaced Gulf residents searching for jobs and I've managed to justify hiring two. Coci being the younger one who managed to get out of the spill area before getting hurt but wound up losing her job anyway. She said she had opted to not go with the other refugees to the city-states closer to Kolpos and instead went further, eventually winding up in Shayeris staying in one of its common homes and paying the owner with the jewellery she was wearing during the spill. She claimed that every other place she tried turned her down, but I have a difficult time believing that. A number of Shayeris residents have left, frightened by the influx of infection by the Kolpos and area refugees and the still not entirely collected oil spreading our way. There are jobs available so I do not know what she was doing until she applied here.
She was, like most Atlanteans, militarily trained, but left the military after her required years of service. She trained at the Conservatory of Sorcery as well and had managed to impress me with her knowledge of jewel charms so, seeing as I was short-staffed, I hired her.
There's something off about her though. Something I cannot pin down. As long as I can observe her in action though I figure that my anxiety about the oddness of her will wear off. If it does not then there is something genuinely odd about her that may or may not be a good thing.
With Aqualass as my daughter, and with my past and Calvin's past what it is, I can never be too careful.
Coci seems to sense my trepidation.
August 16, 2010 – 18:16 UTC-03
"He's working for the government?" Coci asks after seeing a customer to the door.
"Ah, yes, Calvin is using his technical skills to test the security of the systems the city-states' leaders use," I confirm.
Coci raises an eyebrow, "You mean he's trying to hack into King Arnis' computer?"
"Essentially."
"Impressive," she comments. "Has he done a lot of that type of work?"
"A bit," I say evasively, not wishing to comment on the similar work he did for David.
"Honestly, I would have pegged him as more of a poet-warrior type," Coci says, fixing a display of hair ornaments, "not a techie."
"A poet-warrior," I repeat. "I suppose that is an apt description as well. Why do you think so?"
"He has a scar on his arm," she explains, dragging her fingers up her left triceps and to her back, "it goes to his back, where I cannot see it anymore, but it is there. I do not think you get a scar like that by sitting behind a computer." She adds after a moment, nodding to me, "You have a few scars too. I doubt you got them from this shop."
"You are young. Most young people fail to realize that those older than them did have lives before them."
"Was it a bad mission?"
"I am not fond of the military."
Coci frowns, "Was it a bad mission for Calvin? An incident on the surface-world?"
"I would prefer to not speak of it."
She looks at me for a long moment then nods, "My apologies."
"It is well."
It turns out that it is not. The next day while we were making some protection necklaces she asks about how I learned how to make the charmed jewellery in the shop. I told her that I was self-taught, which is mostly true, and she comments on the fact that my sorcery is different from that of other Atlanteans she knows, drier. I attribute that to being self-taught.
It is alarming though, because while I was dominantly self-taught, people such as Joa on the surface-world also taught me. The methods for sorcery on the surface-world are different than those in Atlantis. I am both impressed that Coci caught them and alarmed because how does she even know the methods of surface-world sorcery? According ot her she has never been to the surface-world so how would hse know what their sorcery is like? That sort of information is rarely readily available in Atlantis even online, and it is far from something respectable to study.
Something is off. She asks too many questions.
August 18, 2010 – 08:56 UTC-03
"Poseidonis," the Atlantean with the pale blue scales answers.
I beam, "Poseidonis is such a beautiful city-state. It is no wonder that you lived there."
"You have been?" he asks, his blue eyes widening as his pale blue eyebrows rise.
"Quite often," I confirm, gesturing to the mosaic of Aqualass on the wall behind the counter.
"Ah, yes, Aqualass is there quite often," he says. "Many of her supporters visit Poseidonis, hoping to catch a sight of her or speak to her."
"I do visit to support her," I smile, realizing that he has no idea that I am half of the reason for Aqualass' existence. "Usually, she is happy to see me."
"You must be close."
"Raising someone generally has that effect, in one way or another."
He blinks. He raises his eyebrows, "I am afraid I…you raised her?" I just look at him and, after a moment, he exclaims, "You are Aqualass' matim?"
"Yes," I confirm. "And if you wish for me to confirm that my daughter would approve of your choice of armbands for your husband, I can do so."
"Celebrity endorsement?"
"She suggested it."
"Smart girl. That will not be necessary, but thank-you," he says, handing the armbands over the counter to me.
"You are very welcome."
"It would be nice if Aqualass were in Poseidonis now," he says forlornly, looking past me to the mosaic of my daughter in uniform.
I frown as I finish wrapping the armbands, "What do you mean?"
"We lived near the Conservatory," he explains, handing me his payment. "We moved because of some incidents occurring at the Conservatory."
"Incidents?"
He hesitates, looking around carefully. He leans forward, seeming to accept that no one in the room will object to what he says, and explains, "There have been attacks by the Purists. A Conservatory student was assaulted by them last week, he had an old slur against the so-called Impure carved into his back. He left shortly after. The Conservatory and Monarchy is keeping the incident quiet, but I was a regular guest speaker at the Conservatory and I knew the boy reasonably well. It happened, but no one wishes to speak of it."
"Surely Annex and Anassa are-"
"They are Pure," he points out. "They are Pure and they are supported by other Pure Atlanteans. Atlanteans such as A'estus, whom are suspected of being supporters of the Purists if not active Purists themselves, support their rule. While Annex Orin and Anassa Mera clearly see the value of Atlanteans such as yourself or myself, with the appointment of your daughter as Aqualass, who is to say that they were not forced into accepting her after the Pure candidate for his protégé declined the offer? Beyond that, acting against the Purists would make their Pure supporters furious."
"Kalladura'ham was made Aqualass because she had the ability and potential, not because she was a second choice and they had to make her Aquaman's protégé."
"Apologies, I did not intend to insult your daughter's skills," he says quickly. "Regardless, my family could not remain there, not with the Purists still controlling Poseidonis."
"I hope that giving this gift will help improve your day."
He smiles, taking the wrapped armbands, "I think so. Thank-you."
As soon as he leaves I sit down.
Shit.
If Purists are attacking Impure Conservatory students then Kalla's friends will be in danger. Tula and Garth will be fine, but Lori, Blubber, King Sha'ark, and her two adorable little fans, La'gaan and Topo, will be targeted. This is bad. This is really bad.
Orin and Mera did object to this violent discrimination. They had to. Have to. Keeping it quiet, I can understand that, they do not want Poseidonis or the Conservatory to explode with fear and fury, but not objecting completely is highly unlikely.
"What's wrong?" asks Calvin as he enters the main room.
"The Purists are apparently growing violent in Poseidonis," I answer. "A boy from the Conservatory was attacked, had a slur carved across his back by the Purists."
Calvin's eyes widen, "What is Orin doing?"
"I do not know," I say, raising my hands up in frustration. "I only heard of the incident from an Atlantean who just moved here from Poseidonis to get away from the Purists. The incident happened last week. I should have heard of it by now. The media should have told a story, or it should have gotten to Kalla by now, but it seems as though the incident is being kept quiet."
Calvin frowns.
"Which makes sense," I continue. "If the citizens of Poseidonis knew of the attack then the Impure would be terrified of leaving their homes, parents would be pulling their children out of the Conservatory in an instant, and all of the Purist supporters would be emerging, gleeful."
"Maybe," Calvin says. "What are the Purists doing? They've been violent before, but it's always been in, well, less powerful city-states, like Shayeris back before Kalla became Aqualass and it gained some more political clout, and Lemuria and Crastinus, and now Kolpos. They've never had the numbers or the organization to be active through violence in Poseidonis."
"They can do it in Nai'ada."
"That's just because their leader is a closet Purist and Orin can't afford to kick her out of power. Not with her connection to Klymene & Tethys and her involvement in the Northwest Passage debate."
"Fuck the Northwest Passage," I snap. "The Purists just attacked a child and no one knows about it! They are gaining a ton of power if they have the gall to do that in the first place, and that cannot happen."
"I know," Calvin nods. After a moment, he asks, "What are you going to do?"
"I know a few Purists."
"You're going to see them?"
"I need to find out what's happening in Poseidonis. How the Purists have the organization to do this without being publically known."
"How do you plan on doing that?"
"I will get Coci to come in today, she can deal with the shop today with Anima," I nod to the front of the room where one of my older hires is hovering, helping a woman pick out a bracelet for her daughter's seventeenth birthday.
"I can come with you."
"No. I will be fine by myself. I need you to stay here tonight though, look after everything," I request, beginning to pull my hair back into a thick braid.
He nods, "Okay. Call me when you get there." He kisses me lightly.
I smile as he pulls away, "Of course."
Lemuria, Atlantis : August 18, 2010 – 11:19 UTC-02
His eyes are still sharp and mean. Dark brown pools that scan the waters when he swims for an early lunch out of the Lemuria offices for Angelia Graphikos. The starburst scar on his forearm is faded slightly, but not much, and is joined by new scars on his knuckles. The man with him I recognize just as well.
The man is an Atlantean that appears Pure. His violet eyes, set against a light ochre complexion, are two of the meanest eyes I have ever known. He has a belly now and there are scars on his knuckles from broken skin – his skin and others, I have no doubt. Instinctively, my hand brushes across one of the scars on my hips.
'your patera said I could'
The memories mock me. I shut them down just as quickly as they rise up and I have to clench my hands into fists to keep from attacking both of the men then and there.
I remember violet eyes, big hands, and teeth that once-upon-a-time were sharp as a shark's. My childhood self did not realize that he had later filed his teeth down in an attempt to pass as Pure. The pointed teeth were the only visible suggestion of his "impurity" and now, I realize, he must have loathed them.
The two Atlanteans are old friends of one another. One who wanted to pass as Pure and the other who couldn't pass but always attached himself to those who were, to those in power. I still do not know if he did it in a ploy of 'keep your friends close and your enemies closer' or if he truly believed in what the powerful preached.
I follow the two into a small café with no one inside except the employees and a small family, where they sit at a table with their respective dishes. I order a snack, sushi how sushi is supposed to be made, not that silly surface-world stuff, and tell the woman behind the counter to get out of the café. I pause by the table with the small family and prompt them to leave as well. Finally, with the small family heading out of the café, looking alarmed, I take the third chair at the table of the two employees of Angelia Graphikos. They look at me, at the charmed belt at my waist with hesitant recognition. A frown crosses the face of Violet Eyes and confusion crosses the face of Brown Eyes.
"Hello Patera," I greet, fighting back the urge to escape and the equally as powerful urge to punch them both until their blood stains the water and they cease moving.
Recognition crosses the face of Brown Eyes – Patera – as his eyes flick to my charmed belt. He snarls, "You."
His hand snaps out to my throat. I grab his wrist instead and shoot up to twist it behind his back and slam his head against his dish, cracking the dish beneath his face.
"You-"
I throw Brown Eyes back to the floor and kick the table up, sending it crashing into Violet Eyes.
"Both of you are going to listen to me," I order, pressing my foot to the throat of Brown Eyes while I form a water-mace and hold it out to Violet Eyes. "You are going to answer my questions and when I am done you will leave here like none of this ever happened. Tell anyone of this, and I will end both of you."
"You Impure little-"
"You don't remember me, do you?" I taunt, glaring at Violet Eyes. "I will give you a hint: 'Your patera said I could'."
He frowns, "What in the name of Poseidon are you talking ab-"
"Kor-" Brown Eyes coughs. "She is Kor'dia'ax."
"Your demon spawn?" Violet Eyes gapes, looking back at me incredulously, appearing to be pale-skinned and brown-haired, far from the older version of the girl he once hurt.
"Kor'dia'ax has been reincarnated and is rather annoyed by the Purist attacks in Poseidonis," I state. "I know you both are with the Purists," I point down to Brown Eyes – Patera, horrible, awful Patera – "though you are on the fringes and you," I point to Violet Eyes – D'unar – "are low in their ranks, but you are both with them. You know something about the attacks."
"And you think that threatening us will make us tell you anything?" D'unar scoffs.
I kick Patera in the face, knocking him out.
"You are living up to your name, Kor'dia'ax, cursed one," D'unar taunts, unmoving. "It takes pure evil for a child to attack her own patera."
"When that patera did a terrible job at being one, then no, it does not take evil, it just takes guts, confidence, and a furious want to destroy everyone who tried to destroy you," I snap. I knee him in the gut. He buckles, gasping. I kick him in the back, sending him crashing to the floor. Apparently, he is only capable of defeating children, not a grown woman.
I kick him over then grab him by his collar and hiss, "And you are one of those people who tried to destroy me. I have no problem with destroying you as well."
"You will be imprisoned for assaulting an executive of Angelia Graph-"
His strangled explanation is cut off sharply as I slam him against the wall.
"D'unar," I hiss, leaning forward with my knuckles pressed against the soft flesh beneath his collar, "I have fucked one of the most dangerous men on the planet. I have made him buckle before me, worship me. I have given him a child who happens to be one of the most dangerous people on this planet, and I have succeeded in disappearing from him, from our so-called Mighty Ruler, from the entire Justice League, when necessary. There is not a prison in existence that can hold me, and clearly death cannot contain me. You though…well, you are just a nightmare from my childhood. You are no more threatening to me than the water around us."
His face is turning purple.
I loosen my hold, "I suggest you tell me what I want to know."
Five minutes later I am swimming from the scene, removing the glamour charmed belt from my person that made me appear to be a pale brunette, and disappearing.
I must tell Kalla of this.
oOoOo
Sender:sla_jc
Date:Wed, 18 August 2010 12:16:32 -0200
From:Sha'lain'a D
Organization:Angelia Graphikos
To:anassa.m
Subject:Were you aware of this?
Mera,
Something came up this morning that has me concerned.
A customer mentioned to me that there were some incidents at the Conservatory revolving around the Purists. A boy was attacked, had a slur against the so-called Impure carved across his back by Purists. Did you know of this?
I did not, so I questioned some people I know about it. They did not know much about that particular incident, but they did imply that some of the Purists were working for someone more powerful. I suspect Ocean Master. Ocean Master has always had a startling amount of access to some of the most heavily guarded areas in Atlantis and I suspect that due to that access the Purists are growing bolder. They have more than enough power now to become forces in Poseidonis and other powerful city-states.
Please, tell me you and Orin are doing something about this. This cannot continue. The Purists must be brought down, before they introduce a second Tritonis and rip a city-state to shreds as the Sirens did. Calvin and I are willing to help, but you must notify Kalla of this as well.
The apparent inaction of the Monarchy is beginning to be concerning. Someone needs to act, soon, and it should not be the Purists.
Stay well,
Sha'lain'a
Shayeris, Atlantis : September 6, 2010 – 07:26 UTC-03
After Kalladura'ham leaves with M'gann and Conner I turn to Calvin and question, "What happened to her?"
"She may not be permitted to tell us."
"More likely she does not want us to worry," I sigh. "That girl…"
It is always for the same reason that Kalla does not tell us something. She does not want us to worry. She does not wish to put us in any danger. She is trying to protect us by keeping her mouth shut. It is frustrating. Calvin and I are her parents, we are supposed to protect her, and we are perfectly capable of defending ourselves against her enemies. I took down more than a few individuals attempting to hurt her when she was a child. Calvin survived being one of Manta's agents and then escaping. There is very little that we cannot handle and the fact that she continually refuses to tell us the things that bother her out of a concern for our well-being is, while sweet, also infuriating.
"I could sense her anxiety, Calvin," I say, my voice softening. "She was scared of something, or had been recently."
"Of what?"
"I do not know. A mission likely went wrong."
"But the other two didn't seem worried."
"Then it went wrong in such a way that only she was aware."
"You are grasping at straws, sweetheart."
"I might be. I will email her, ask for an explanation."
"Wait," Calvin advises. "Wait for a day, she might contact us herself."
I shoot him an incredulous look, "She hates starting email conversations."
"Just wait."
"You are likely right," I sigh. "Very well, I will wait, but only for a few hours."
When Kalla finally responds to my emails a day later I have to fight the urge to go to the surface-world, grab her, and pull her back to Shayeris where I can keep an eye on her and take out anyone who makes her feel less valuable. At the moment, those people are her Team, Tula and Garth, and the Purists.
"I was right, she is scared," I say when I see her email on my day off.
Calvin immediately comes to my side, foregoing heading immediately to work on improving King Arnis' computer system. He sits next to me on the bed and I hand the tablet to him to read the email. I lean over, rubbing my temples with my hands.
"She is being kicked while she is down," I say after a long moment, "and I just know she's going to take the past events and just be alone with her mind fuelling her feelings of inadequacy."
"Lock herself in her room, again," Calvin says, remembering the time when Kalla first faced Ocean Master and after being released from the attention of the Healers went and somehow managed to lock herself inside the room she shared with Tula at the Conservatory. She blamed herself for the death of the soldier involved in the fight and did not know how to deal with that guilt. She has gotten better with that, but every-so-often the guilt or the feelings of inadequacy return and she gets quiet. Quiet and angry and sad. It's painful to watch, knowing that I cannot do anything to help her besides assure her that I love her.
It is one of the reasons for why I remain quietly sceptical of the League's decision to start training protégés barely in their teens – and in the case of Robin, not even a preteen when he began. The teenagers do not know how to deal with the issues that they face, the traumas. Their brains are not prepared for that. Throwing them into that world with nothing but a theoretical rope attached to their mentor seems like a bad idea, and it is left to those people closer to them than their mentors to pick up the pieces that should never have been chipped away in the first place.
I glance at the tablet and remark, "She will not listen to me if I tell her to call Roy and watch a film or something, or that Roy is likely not ignoring her he is just…doing what she does when she is frustrated, trying to stay away from people who can make her less frustrated."
"What if he is though? Ignoring her," prods Calvin.
I shake my head, "I do not believe that. He is her best surface-friend. She would give her life for him, and from what I have heard of him he would do the same. I do not think she realizes that, which makes sense. She just got hit by being forgotten or ignored by nearly all of her friends, the Purists telling her that she is worthless, and being helpless while in the middle of the desert. I would be surprised if her impression of her self-worth has not suffered. I do not think that right now she thinks she is worth much of anything to anyone beyond, perhaps, a good soldier." I can tell by Calvin's expression that he knows that feeling. I nod, "I know that feeling too."
He squeezes my hand. I return the gesture.
"We cannot go up there though," I remark. "She would just try to pretend that she is okay." I look up at him, "Do you want to type first or me?"
"Go ahead," he hands me the tablet.
I respond to Kalla's email first. Orin is second.
oOoOo
Sender:sla_jc
Date:Thurs, 9 September 2010 18:23:16 -0300
From:Sha'lain'a D
Organization:Angelia Graphikos
To:annex.o
Subject:You must be joking
Orin,
I just found out about the attack on Orm and the capture of Mera.
What the hell? He is a child, I understand that, but what the hell do you hope to accomplish by pardoning him?
Ronal and his fellow Purists attacked not only your brother and wife, but Kalladura'ham and her friends! That boy knew exactly what he was getting into when he joined the Purists. He knew he would be attacking the "Impure" and their allies. Pardoning him is just giving the Purists more room to act.
Sha'lain'a
oOoOo
Sender:annex.o
Date:Fri, 10 September 2010 10:18:16 -0300
From:Annex Orin
Organization:The Atlantean Monarchy
To:sla_jc
Subject: Re:You must be joking
Sha'lain'a,
I apologize. I understand your problems with my decision, but it is my decision. My people and I are doing everything we can to hunt down those who dared to attack my brother and your daughter, and capture my wife, and deal with them appropriately.
There are many individuals at play here, and a balance must be struck.
Mera mentioned that you had questioned some individuals about the first attack. Did those individuals happen to be in Lemuria?
-O
oOoOo
Sender:sla_jc
Date:Fri, 10 September 2010 17:02:19 -0300
From:Sha'lain'a D
Organization:Angelia Graphikos
To:annex.o
Subject: Re: Re: You must be joking
Orin,
That is unacceptable, Orin. "Striking a balance" is all well and good, but when "striking a balance" results in ignoring the crimes of Purists, of Atlanteans who have carved slurs into the flesh of others, then you need to look at that balance and seriously consider whether that balance is worth striking or not.
Did those individuals happen to be in Lemuria?
Yes. They were in Lemuria.
Sha'lain'a
oOoOo
Sender:annex.o
Date:Sat, 11 September 2010 09:58:22 -0300
From:Annex Orin
Organization:The Atlantean Monarchy
To:sla_jc
Subject: Re: Re: Re:You must be joking
The balance is not a particularly good one; I know that, I am aware of that. But it is the only one at the moment able to be "struck."
My options are limited right now.
Yes. They were in Lemuria.
You attacked two innocent Atlanteans. You must understand that I cannot overlook that.
-O
oOoOo
Sender:sla_jc
Date:Sat, 11 September 2010 12:22:46 -0300
From:Sha'lain'a D
Organization:Angelia Graphikos
To:annex.o
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: You must be joking
Then make them less limited.
Atlantis may be on an edge right now, it may be thrown by these recent Purist attacks, but right now I am ashamed of the lack of what you and Mera have done. I do not know what Kalla thinks of this, but I am certain she is not impressed with how the monarchy is handling this situation.
The Purist group here just attacked a woman this morning. They managed to carve into her arm half of the word Topo had carved into his chest. Thankfully, some others got there and managed to get the Purists away from her before they finished the word. An incident like that has not happened since Kalla was a child!
This needs to stop, Orin. I refuse to watch another child have her or his finger broken by a group of Purists.
You attacked two innocent Atlanteans.
Those two are not innocent. I confronted my Patera about his treatment of me, and I confronted the friend he gave permission to use me. I would do it again. Right now though, they have ins with the Purists and I will not let my hatred of them overcome the greater issue that is the Purists, of which I can learn more about and prepare for by having those two bigoted jackasses right where they currently are.
You must understand that I cannot overlook that.
Then do not overlook it, but also do not try to protect them. They can protect themselves. I have the scars to prove it. I will happily testify against both of them, with the assurance that I will not be dragged over spikes and ripped to shreds because of the transgressions of Kor'dia'ax's youth.
Sha'lain'a
Shayeris, Atlantis : September 11, 2010 – 15:27 UTC-02
The healing room is barren, but the woman who was attacked by Purists looks up as I enter and smiles. She sits up, handling her bandaged arm gingerly.
"Hello, Je'ria," I say, "I am Sha'lain'a."
"Your daughter looks like you," she says, a corner of her mouth twitching into a fond smile.
"Most do not connect me to her," I comment.
"You look similar, you and Aqualass - Kalla, I do not see why few would connect you to her."
"I suppose it is because she is usually in uniform and I tend to," I gesture down to my gauzy, flowing wrap skirt and the strip of fabric wound over my arms and clasped at my chest against my bandeau with one of my blue broaches, "well, wear less structured clothing. I am a little louder than her as well."
Je'ria smiles, "She is a teenager, uncertain at times I am sure. She will get louder."
"How is your daughter?" I question.
"My daughter, Ataxe, is worried for her matim," Je'ria responds, her smile not reaching her eyes. She glances down to her bandaged arm, "I will likely be permitted to leave tomorrow, once the healers are certain my gills," she gestures to the brace against her left gills, "can continue to support me. She is excited for that."
"They are not here now?"
"Her patera, Haxel, took her out earlier. She was growing anxious. She does not much like healing rooms, not since…since the oil."
My eyes flick to the faded dark stains mingling with the burn scars that twist across her hands.
"Understandable," I say. "I realize that you have likely been asked this many times but I was hoping you could tell me about the attack."
Je'ria tenses.
Her left eye is bruised, and matching dark purple blotches stretch around her throat in the shape of fingers. The brace against her left gills is an attempt to ensure the sliced gills heal properly and there is a similar brace on her left arm, against the bandages that cover the slur carved into her flesh. The fin on her left arm is effectively shredded thanks to the carving but once it heals some more thanks to the brace she may be able to get a prosthetic if adapting to only having a usable fin on her right arm proves to be more than a bit of a challenge. A less intensive brace is against her right arm fin, which looks to have been bent out of shape brutally in the same pattern as the bruises across her forearm shaped like a hand. Part of her right ear fin is missing, as is a chunk of her hair, and I am certain that she has new scars added to the collection of shrapnel ones all over her body.
She has every right to tense and refuse to answer.
"Is this to help your daughter, to help Aqualass, hunt them down?" Je'ria asks.
"No," I state. "It's to help me hunt them down."
Surprise crosses her face. She lowers her head, a smirk playing at her lips, "It is from you then that she got it," she lifts her head, "her warrior spirit and her refusal to stand by quietly when she knows she can do something to help those less fortunate than herself."
I do not respond.
Je'ria shakes her head, "I was attacked while returning…home from having picked up the medications my husband, Haxel, and Ataxe require."
"You are living here now?" I ask, sitting on the bed next to her.
"Temporarily, for now," she confirms. "The wounds our family has suffered due to the oil are…extensive. Ataxe and Haxel must be cared for, and that is where our funds must go."
"Do you remember anything of the attackers?"
"Pure, of course, the monsters," Je'ria spits. "There were four. Two held me down. One…" she shakes her head, trailing off.
I put a hand over hers. She grasps my hand tightly and continues, "T-Two held me down and another had her hand at my throat. I could not breathe. The last, he had the blade."
"Two men and two women or…"
"Yes, two men and two women. Pure and they wore crude robes."
"Crude?"
"They were not professionally made," Je'ria nods. "There were frayed edges."
"Self-made, perhaps?"
"Perhaps?"
"What were their complexions?"
"One had the same complexion as myself," she answers, staring down at her bandaged arm. "The rest were fairer. All had brown hair. I…I could not make out their features. My throat…"
"I understand. It's okay. This helps. Would you mind if I returned later, to visit?"
"I will help you as much as I can in ensuring those Purists do not hurt another as they hurt me," Je'ria promises.
I smile, "Thank-you."
A/N: In which Sha'lain'a will likely never be able to have a quiet life, and she doesn't particularly want one.
You have no idea how much I side-eyed the League during episode 17 when the therapy sessions were happening. Did it seriously not occur to them that this could be problematic? At least it occurred to Wonder Woman.
R&R