He twirls his pen very pointedly, despite the fact that he's written very little with it.
"The dream. There can't be many things that would make me that worried about your safety." There is, notably, no scepticism about the worry itself.
With a wry chuckle, And so quick to form attachments. Of course, part of that is his need to be your saviour, as the the rest of the world isn't burning.
"There are very, very few options for things that would be a threat to me."
Not even the other Gods, as far as he is concerned. Because his upbringing and cultivated interactions and curated remarks means that he considers them more than slightly inferior to Asmodeus.
Which means his thoughts are not traveling in a direction entirely different from Zerxus'.
Then maybe I should light one before his quest to 'save' me becomes the threat to me.
Actively distrustful of his father? Very much so, and he hasn't even cracked open a book, yet.
It's not a possibility that Zerxus knows how to broach, because he isn't assuming that Bruce will agree with him. Surely Asmodeus would at least offer the illusion that the son he chose was safe with him.
"Does anyone have a grudge? Against you, against Gotham?" Something had certainly felt...personal, about the transcendent violence he can almost remember. "Or...maybe they'd think they were saving it from you."
There's at least a rueful twist to that, because yes, that is basically why he's here. He's just not enough of a self-important idiot to think it's as simple as Kill Devil Save City.
It won't take much to distract him, or won't take much for him to become a threat to me...?
That one's rhetorical. The answer is likely both - though the second would take more. He is arrogant, yes, but he also sees the direction this is going and pretending that he cannot see the possibility being more than hinted at would require a level of obliviousness and stupidity he does not possess.
Besides, his father appears to be leading him in the direction of that conclusion.
He goes to the desk with his books and sits down, flips the first open and starts scanning pages... rapidly, looking for keywords, and only truly reading when he finds one. "The only credible threat to me or this city is my father. The people who live here are well aware their greatest protection from him is me." Zerxus is... so earnestly and endearingly backward. "You're very convinced your dream was prophetic of something."
The first keyword he'll find is clairvoyance; it goes on to describe that Ioun grants it to those followers she trusts the most. That can't be the answer here, of course - there may be gods who would bestow power in someone without their knoweldge or permission, but The Knowing Mistress isn't one of them. But it goes on to describe the groups formed by such seers, which could lead in a more plausible direction.
Meanwhile, Zerxus...opens his mouth, closes it, and counts to ten in Celestial.
"Well. Yes. I just wasn't - I didn't want to - isn't he supposed to lie about things?"
It's not a chuckle this time, there's an outright burst of laughter in Bruce's head.
Asmodeus had said 'followers of Ioun', not just the goddess herself. That's a very specific plausible direction to pursue.
He glances up briefly, though whether it's in response to the remark itself or the laughter, his expression is... exasperated but in a way that's almost fond. That's downright cute, Zerxus.
So much cute and endearingly and earnestly wrong that he isn't even remotely startled by the laughter.
"You're thinking like a paladin and operating under a false premise: these are the rules, and he follows them rigidly. If everything he said or did were a lie, there would be no element of deceit. You could simply reverse everything." Is he supposed to be spelling this out? Fuck if he knows, but there's a level of earnestly naive that apparently makes him say things. "And aside from that I am his son. If I were stupid enough to believe he was safe, he'd flay me and I'd deserve it."
There's outrage in his expression, of course, but - a grim sort of fascination, too. He can barely even imagine living like that, or dealing with it on a regular basis.
But isn't that what he wants, in the end? For all of them to just fucking stop, and choose to live on this world that they made together? If he's just angry, then he isn't learning anything. He isn't understanding anything.
That's not what the oath he took.
"...Then you learn more about what he chooses to be honest about and what he doesn't." His lips purse; it isn't quite a grimace, but only through force of will. "I can. See how that choice could be a gesture of respect, in his eyes."
It's certainly paining him, but I must admit, it's more of a concession than I expected. Of course, whether Asmodeus considers concession a sign of intelligence or weakness depends on a lot of factors.
He just cocks an eyebrow up at the expression on Zerxus' face. It's an oddly formal expression for a man wearing nothing but a pair of pajama pants, even if he's sitting behind a heavy desk in his own extensive library.
"It isn't a gesture. I'm not stupid, and I do respect him."
There's something in there about 'then you learn about-' that is sending up red flags about Zerxus' level of interest. Nothing he's chosen to do here feels safe. This feels much more dangerous, and much more telling about his potential motivation in being in Gotham.
I don't think it's exactly a concession. I think he's trying to understand you, and figure out how to predict you.
"No. I meant that his decision to be honest was respecting you." He looks like he's about to grind his teeth, before he just sighs and says, "Just to be clear, as a parent - as a man who chose his son - I am completely horrified."
This is probably the first time Bruce has ever seen a mortal identify with the Lord of the Hells, save maybe an unhinged warlock or two.
Only within the context of the pure stupidity of walking in here and choosing to stay!
Asmodeus getting most of the... mild snap that feeling somewhat stuck in the middle of something he doesn't want to be in the middle of and doesn't quite understand inspires? Apparently. This is why this is all a problem.
What does Zerxus want? Bruce is truly lost on motive, cannot come up with a single good reason for risking his life, his soul, his son continuing to have a parent. Not even understanding that mortals are idiots and this one is fascinating his father just due to his absolute conviction and arrogance in being able to --
What? Relate to him? His interest in Asmodeus? Sympathy for the devil?
"I have no idea what you find horrifying, but I'd suggest you not extend the comparison between the two of you-" Which, yes, is further ... concerning - "too far. How did you find your son?"
Careful, now. Asmodeus still sounds amused - warmly, even - but that can change in a heartbeat.
With a shrug that's far too nonchalant, "They made us what we are. People don't like to think about the fact that the Betrayers were just as much a part of that, in the beginning."
Which is its own parallel to parenthood, of course, in a more abstract and distant sort of way.
"...Elias was only a few months old, when I first saw him. Evandrin was on duty - he was sent to talk to me, about what I could do - but he didn't have anyone to watch him."
"They made you, period. That doesn't make them the same as you."
If ever there was a single doubt about just how 'complicated' Bruce's relationship with Asmodeus is, it comes in his reaction to that warm, amused warning. It makes him check his 'tone' and attitude, yes - because it's a warning that very much has teeth, and he knows better (by a lot) than to do anything but take it (very) seriously.
But because there is a warning and the warmth in the tone, makes him...almost grateful. For there being a warning, and also for warmth being there, at all. A thing that's been true since he was seven years old and while it's become more subtle? It hasn't vanished.
Of course. Not an apology, exactly but he definitely changes his tone to more respectful and gets the upset at being confused and feeling... cornered into a trap out of the way, at least.
"He was already Evandrin's? From a relationship your husband had had, or someone else?"
There's no answer in words, just a sensation of a warm hand clasping his shoulder.
"Someone he loved, and who gave him a son because of it. She wasn't interested in being a parent herself." Evandrin had never told him more than that, and he'd never pried. There's no trace of suspicion or jealousy in his voice, just another layer of mourning.
He'd never regretted not asking more questions, even after losing his husband - she could have approached herself, if she wanted, and he didn't want to put a burden of expectation on her otherwise. Not until Avalir was ashes, and almost all of its people with it.
If Elias ever asks him, all he'll be able to say is that his mother is probably gone.
Bruce's shoulders relax pretty visibly, and his expression... softens a touch, out of the calculated wariness. It's response to Asmodeus, yes, but it's also because there's a less... threatening discussion in front of him.
"Which of them did you choose first?" It is by far not the weirdest arrangement of building a family he's heard of.
The Lord of Hell adopted him and owns his soul. This is comparatively tame. Though he more than half assumes the woman involved was paid for her services. And that she's dead. The dead is unrelated to the paid.
"Hard to say." Judging by that soft, crooked little smile, Zerxus has entirely forgotten where he is and who he's with.
Or it would mean that, if he was a normal person.
"It would have been...a very different first impression, if Evandrin wasn't trying to hold a baby while knocking on my door." He'd been wary about the whole thing; there was a reason he didn't go with Nydas to Avalir in the first place.
He's still reading - or appears to be reading. In truth, it's some of both. Continuing to track down information without giving anything that is irrelevance any real attention. "Yes. While I'm certain he wasn't smart enough to do so, a baby in arms would convince most mortals to be helpful, very quickly."
It's taken some doing, but he seems to be on the right track now; the chapter began with the different ways oracles trained, before a very brief aside: the godless oracles of Avalir, who had learned to forge their own connection to divinity. Apparently, it was a calling of lifelong devotion and meditative seclusion.
"The word you're looking for is 'manipulative', and no, he wasn't."
"Everyone's manipulative, the only variation is in motive." That's an absent aside, though, because he frowns at the page, looks up and tilts his head at Zerxus, studying him intently.
A ripple of playful amusement is timed perfectly with the revelation.
"You only think that because you were raised in Hell." Which makes it extremely understandable but he still has to point it out. "...Not much. The fear, mostly. Being...frozen, I think, on the ground, with violence all around me."
He's frowning, now, leaning forward to get a better look at what exactly Bruce is reading. "I told you it didn't really mean anything - "
"No, I think that because everyone for various motives and by various methods is manipulative."
And yet, his response to Zerxus leaning forward is to light up the passage that he was reading, and that is of immediate relevance, like some sort of magical highlighter. Why? Because there's no reason not to.
That gets an eyeroll, but he does flip the book around to read. His first expression is baffled annoyance, before it shifts to stunned denial as he looks up.
"You think - ? No." That doesn't make any sense at all. "There are similarities, they helped me train as a paladin without a god, but I never - it says right here, you dedicate your entire life to making prophecies that way. No one just dreams about the future by accident."
"I do think. I more than think." He has no proof, but what is missing in the details of what should be possible does little more than explain Asmodeus' interest - and amusement. "Particularly as they helped you train." For a while, of some indeterminate amount of time. "The bigger question is if they knew and that is why they helped, or it was you subconsciously seeking them out."
He sounds very patient, calm, and composed.
He wants to shake Zerxus - or maybe just scream.
He does at least believe that Zerxus didn't know.
Though how he could have not is beyond Bruce. It seems obvious (from Bruce's position of mostly hindsight.)
He's shaking his head, but the nagging doubt is already clear in his eyes. "No, it - Evandrin sought me out to begin with because of what I could do. Avalir doesn't have many healers, and none of them are warriors."
That's the problem with a city of wizards. Some mages had access to healing - certain kinds of bards and sorcerers, mostly - but they were in the minority, and it wasn't a speciality for any of them. The vast majority of the city's defenders were eldritch knights; training to be fighters or barbarians gave them ways to prevent and withstand damage, but not to heal it.
"The oracles were clerics, in a way. They helped me understand my magic, how to hone it, how to extend it." He'd hit a bit of a wall, back home; so much of it was instinctive, but eventually he needed some kind of direction. "They knew about the nightmares, but they never - they would have said something - "
Wouldn't they? He hadn't trusted many people in Avalir, but the oracles had always seemed different. There wasn't the same smug superiority or naked hunger for power he saw in so many others; there wasn't even the constant clash of loyalties and expectations that even the best of them struggled with.
"Everyone is manipulative," he repeats. The only variation is in motive. Sometimes it's to protect someone, sometimes it's another prophesy, sometimes it's to use them as a means to an end. Everyone is manipulative.
Everyone.
He pulls the book back around, lets the lit up words fade and closes the book. Then pushes back in his chair, the chair away from the desk and stands, half sitting on the desk top, in a casually elegant way.
"So the question becomes: What are you going to do about it?"
"They really aren't." He sounds sure of that in the abstract, at least. When it comes to the oracles specifically -
It's been such a long time. Was he wrong, back then? Too young and naive to see what was really going on?
Zerxus sighs, closing his eyes as he reaches up to massage his temples. He's still got a bit of a headache. "What is there to do? Even if they do mean something, they're never - they don't make any sense, even when I can remember them."
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"The dream. There can't be many things that would make me that worried about your safety." There is, notably, no scepticism about the worry itself.
With a wry chuckle, And so quick to form attachments. Of course, part of that is his need to be your saviour, as the the rest of the world isn't burning.
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Not even the other Gods, as far as he is concerned. Because his upbringing and cultivated interactions and curated remarks means that he considers them more than slightly inferior to Asmodeus.
Which means his thoughts are not traveling in a direction entirely different from Zerxus'.
Then maybe I should light one before his quest to 'save' me becomes the threat to me.
Actively distrustful of his father? Very much so, and he hasn't even cracked open a book, yet.
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"Does anyone have a grudge? Against you, against Gotham?" Something had certainly felt...personal, about the transcendent violence he can almost remember. "Or...maybe they'd think they were saving it from you."
There's at least a rueful twist to that, because yes, that is basically why he's here. He's just not enough of a self-important idiot to think it's as simple as Kill Devil Save City.
It won't take much.
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That one's rhetorical. The answer is likely both - though the second would take more. He is arrogant, yes, but he also sees the direction this is going and pretending that he cannot see the possibility being more than hinted at would require a level of obliviousness and stupidity he does not possess.
Besides, his father appears to be leading him in the direction of that conclusion.
He goes to the desk with his books and sits down, flips the first open and starts scanning pages... rapidly, looking for keywords, and only truly reading when he finds one. "The only credible threat to me or this city is my father. The people who live here are well aware their greatest protection from him is me." Zerxus is... so earnestly and endearingly backward. "You're very convinced your dream was prophetic of something."
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Meanwhile, Zerxus...opens his mouth, closes it, and counts to ten in Celestial.
"Well. Yes. I just wasn't - I didn't want to - isn't he supposed to lie about things?"
It's not a chuckle this time, there's an outright burst of laughter in Bruce's head.
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He glances up briefly, though whether it's in response to the remark itself or the laughter, his expression is... exasperated but in a way that's almost fond. That's downright cute, Zerxus.
So much cute and endearingly and earnestly wrong that he isn't even remotely startled by the laughter.
"You're thinking like a paladin and operating under a false premise: these are the rules, and he follows them rigidly. If everything he said or did were a lie, there would be no element of deceit. You could simply reverse everything." Is he supposed to be spelling this out? Fuck if he knows, but there's a level of earnestly naive that apparently makes him say things. "And aside from that I am his son. If I were stupid enough to believe he was safe, he'd flay me and I'd deserve it."
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But isn't that what he wants, in the end? For all of them to just fucking stop, and choose to live on this world that they made together? If he's just angry, then he isn't learning anything. He isn't understanding anything.
That's not what the oath he took.
"...Then you learn more about what he chooses to be honest about and what he doesn't." His lips purse; it isn't quite a grimace, but only through force of will. "I can. See how that choice could be a gesture of respect, in his eyes."
It's certainly paining him, but I must admit, it's more of a concession than I expected. Of course, whether Asmodeus considers concession a sign of intelligence or weakness depends on a lot of factors.
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"It isn't a gesture. I'm not stupid, and I do respect him."
There's something in there about 'then you learn about-' that is sending up red flags about Zerxus' level of interest. Nothing he's chosen to do here feels safe. This feels much more dangerous, and much more telling about his potential motivation in being in Gotham.
I don't think it's exactly a concession. I think he's trying to understand you, and figure out how to predict you.
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"No. I meant that his decision to be honest was respecting you." He looks like he's about to grind his teeth, before he just sighs and says, "Just to be clear, as a parent - as a man who chose his son - I am completely horrified."
This is probably the first time Bruce has ever seen a mortal identify with the Lord of the Hells, save maybe an unhinged warlock or two.
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Asmodeus getting most of the... mild snap that feeling somewhat stuck in the middle of something he doesn't want to be in the middle of and doesn't quite understand inspires? Apparently. This is why this is all a problem.
What does Zerxus want? Bruce is truly lost on motive, cannot come up with a single good reason for risking his life, his soul, his son continuing to have a parent. Not even understanding that mortals are idiots and this one is fascinating his father just due to his absolute conviction and arrogance in being able to --
What? Relate to him? His interest in Asmodeus? Sympathy for the devil?
"I have no idea what you find horrifying, but I'd suggest you not extend the comparison between the two of you-" Which, yes, is further ... concerning - "too far. How did you find your son?"
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With a shrug that's far too nonchalant, "They made us what we are. People don't like to think about the fact that the Betrayers were just as much a part of that, in the beginning."
Which is its own parallel to parenthood, of course, in a more abstract and distant sort of way.
"...Elias was only a few months old, when I first saw him. Evandrin was on duty - he was sent to talk to me, about what I could do - but he didn't have anyone to watch him."
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If ever there was a single doubt about just how 'complicated' Bruce's relationship with Asmodeus is, it comes in his reaction to that warm, amused warning. It makes him check his 'tone' and attitude, yes - because it's a warning that very much has teeth, and he knows better (by a lot) than to do anything but take it (very) seriously.
But because there is a warning and the warmth in the tone, makes him...almost grateful. For there being a warning, and also for warmth being there, at all. A thing that's been true since he was seven years old and while it's become more subtle? It hasn't vanished.
Of course. Not an apology, exactly but he definitely changes his tone to more respectful and gets the upset at being confused and feeling... cornered into a trap out of the way, at least.
"He was already Evandrin's? From a relationship your husband had had, or someone else?"
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"Someone he loved, and who gave him a son because of it. She wasn't interested in being a parent herself." Evandrin had never told him more than that, and he'd never pried. There's no trace of suspicion or jealousy in his voice, just another layer of mourning.
He'd never regretted not asking more questions, even after losing his husband - she could have approached herself, if she wanted, and he didn't want to put a burden of expectation on her otherwise. Not until Avalir was ashes, and almost all of its people with it.
If Elias ever asks him, all he'll be able to say is that his mother is probably gone.
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"Which of them did you choose first?" It is by far not the weirdest arrangement of building a family he's heard of.
The Lord of Hell adopted him and owns his soul. This is comparatively tame. Though he more than half assumes the woman involved was paid for her services. And that she's dead. The dead is unrelated to the paid.
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Or it would mean that, if he was a normal person.
"It would have been...a very different first impression, if Evandrin wasn't trying to hold a baby while knocking on my door." He'd been wary about the whole thing; there was a reason he didn't go with Nydas to Avalir in the first place.
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"Yes. While I'm certain he wasn't smart enough to do so, a baby in arms would convince most mortals to be helpful, very quickly."
Because they're stupid.
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"The word you're looking for is 'manipulative', and no, he wasn't."
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"Everyone's manipulative, the only variation is in motive." That's an absent aside, though, because he frowns at the page, looks up and tilts his head at Zerxus, studying him intently.
"How much of your dream do you remember?"
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"You only think that because you were raised in Hell." Which makes it extremely understandable but he still has to point it out. "...Not much. The fear, mostly. Being...frozen, I think, on the ground, with violence all around me."
He's frowning, now, leaning forward to get a better look at what exactly Bruce is reading. "I told you it didn't really mean anything - "
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And yet, his response to Zerxus leaning forward is to light up the passage that he was reading, and that is of immediate relevance, like some sort of magical highlighter. Why? Because there's no reason not to.
And because he wants to watch Zerxus' reaction.
Doesn't mean anything his ass.
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"You think - ? No." That doesn't make any sense at all. "There are similarities, they helped me train as a paladin without a god, but I never - it says right here, you dedicate your entire life to making prophecies that way. No one just dreams about the future by accident."
They just don't.
They don't, right?
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He sounds very patient, calm, and composed.
He wants to shake Zerxus - or maybe just scream.
He does at least believe that Zerxus didn't know.
Though how he could have not is beyond Bruce. It seems obvious (from Bruce's position of mostly hindsight.)
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That's the problem with a city of wizards. Some mages had access to healing - certain kinds of bards and sorcerers, mostly - but they were in the minority, and it wasn't a speciality for any of them. The vast majority of the city's defenders were eldritch knights; training to be fighters or barbarians gave them ways to prevent and withstand damage, but not to heal it.
"The oracles were clerics, in a way. They helped me understand my magic, how to hone it, how to extend it." He'd hit a bit of a wall, back home; so much of it was instinctive, but eventually he needed some kind of direction. "They knew about the nightmares, but they never - they would have said something - "
Wouldn't they? He hadn't trusted many people in Avalir, but the oracles had always seemed different. There wasn't the same smug superiority or naked hunger for power he saw in so many others; there wasn't even the constant clash of loyalties and expectations that even the best of them struggled with.
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Everyone.
He pulls the book back around, lets the lit up words fade and closes the book. Then pushes back in his chair, the chair away from the desk and stands, half sitting on the desk top, in a casually elegant way.
"So the question becomes: What are you going to do about it?"
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It's been such a long time. Was he wrong, back then? Too young and naive to see what was really going on?
Zerxus sighs, closing his eyes as he reaches up to massage his temples. He's still got a bit of a headache. "What is there to do? Even if they do mean something, they're never - they don't make any sense, even when I can remember them."
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