Kevin Curry
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A young devil's consultancy
🕑 Added 2024-01-01 15:00:11 +0000 UTCOkay, so this was an idea that was proposed in the spacebattles youjo senki fic discussion thread a few months ago. I had something of a hard time deciding which of the many old ideas I was going to realize for this mystery box, but given how popular the one piece crossover has been, I figured it was a good time to use this similar idea.
To distinguish it from that one piece fic, though, I’ve fiddled with the details of the core idea to make it more like the comedy timeline from the one piece crossover’s omake, which was also generally liked. Given how vague the idea was to start, I think that the resulting dynamic will improve the resulting story, should this continue.
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They won. They didn't win as hard as they could have, but when you're a mortal soul against one that claims to be God, not losing was impressive on its own.
As expected, however, Being X didn't accept his loss graciously. “One of the more amusing inaccuracies in the mortal interpretation of My Word was that of Hell, eternal suffering outside of My Sight.” He had said, “It is not of my design. But… that doesn't mean such a place does not exist. Go, and trouble me no more.”
So now they were here, tied to a metal cross in a furey pit, continually burning from both the air and the red hot steel they were strapped to. They had begged for mercy rather quickly, with not a single taunt from that damnable God.
They were alone.
But they had always prided themselves on their ability to adapt, and as it turns out, firey torment was no different. They didn't know how long it took them to beg, how long they tried, or how long it took for them to gain some level of lucidity despite the pain, but after those timeless torments, they gained enough presence of mind to attempt to use magic.
When they were a soldier, the combat analgesic formula was always easy to have on hand to allow for fighting on after injuries. They preferred to use it before getting injured, as it gave them an edge that they desperately needed to live long enough to no longer need the edge, and by then it had become a habit, an ingrained mental button press they hit every time they were about to fight.
The button was there, but to extend the metaphor, it didn't do anything. The underlying electronics that was the computation orb was missing. The metaphorical case was empty.
It took an unknown amount of time to figure out how to replicate the effect. The underlying mathematics was not taught to the soldiery, and while they had picked up enough at Elenium Labs to understand how the program translated mana into activity… understanding the combat analgesic would require medical knowledge they just didn't have.
The key was obvious, in hindsight. They didn't have a body of flesh and blood, but of a more mutable substance that was just close enough to ensure suffering without their nerves dying from the trauma.
“I, who was condemned for crimes that brought me both pain and fame, have served my times and will be reborn in flame!”
While they weren’t… quite sure why they felt the need to invoke magic with a rhyming couplet,of all things, it worked. The substance of their body reformed into an angelic form with upside-down wings of flame, and the fires of the flaming pit bothered them no more. The familiar rush of the combat analgesic came with it, but after trying and failing to burst out of their confinement, the rush faded, although the acquired flame immunity remained. Well, with a clear head, fixing this issue is simplicity itself.
“My will shall never fade, my wings shall be my blade!”
Mage blades erupted on their wings of fire, severing the chains that bound them to the cross with ease. They looked at their wings curiously, marveling at the dozens of cutting spells now at their command. After a quick glance around the blasted hellscape, they walked towards a random stone and cut away the front, leaving a glossy obsidian surface. Not good enough…
“It is my wish to see this clearer, shape this stone into a mirror!”
Their body was a silvery tone, tarnished with red rust that resembled dried over blood. They were naked, but totally sexless. Their face was blank, and they were bald.
…They didn't know what they expected. They did, after a moment of wracking their brain, recall a few specific details of their previous bodies, even generalities, but for some reason had difficulty putting it all together into a coherent image. Maybe if they wrote it down…
Well, there wasn't much point to it unless they could decide which body they wanted to use, and there were upsides and downsides to each one. They'll need to think about it.
With an exertion of will and a flap of their wings of fire, they started to fly in a random direction. Luckily, the fact that their wings were upside down didn't seem to inhibit their mobility.
Now, were they completely alone here, it was there something to do?
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They never did get to find out if the hellscape they were trapped in had any other denizens.
At first, they assumed the force that gripped then was Being X again, insenced at their escape for their assigned torture. But it was not the same. Weaker, and without that burning anger they would expect, instead replaced with… a pleading feeling? Yes, it kind of felt like someone begging them for assistance, or mercy.
While they weren't entirely sure they had the strength to resist the pull, it wasn't like they had anything else to do, so they relaxed and allowed the force to take them away from the blasted wasteland they were stuck in.
At first, there was a feeling of eating something, which after so long, despite not possessing any form of mouth, was pure bliss. But then they realized that they were confined again in some kind of warm liquid, shrouded in darkness.
The next ten minutes was something they would never want to do again.
“She is here!” Shouted the doctor, who was dressed in a black robe for some damned reason. “The Forsaken One, the Enemy of God, Lilith!” He spoke English, in an American accent. Well, one of them. He lifted their newborn body up, and their vision sharpened, allowing them to see clearly.
More men and women in black robes bowed before their… they looked down. They bowed before her raised body.
So her new life is being raised by a cult as their dark messiah… lovely.
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Lilith’s life wasn't quite as she expected it would be from her first impressions.
Despite cults generally being both crazy and incompetent, this one, known as the Society of the Bat, knew what they were doing when it came to dark, blasphemous rituals.
Her birth, for example, was the result of three rituals. First, one to create life from the blood of a being and a willing host, which is just a way to make a baby from a mother and something that isn't sperm. They used material from a local… demon? Monster? They are unclear as to the nature of ‘The Bat Man', whose blood they used, but whatever he was, he was her father this time around.
The second ritual empowered the fetus, using living sacrifices to empower the soul of the unborn child, granting them magical power and, as a side effect, accelerating the pregnancy.
The third and final ritual was how she got here: by sacrificing the soul of a magically powerful fetus, they permanently bound a devil to the body, turning them into a hanyou. That soul was the thing she had inadvertently consumed on entry. This induced labor, as a side effect.
The only mistake they made was in their attempt to bind a specific devil to the body, that of the biblical Lilith. Instead, they got her. So they knew that she was no baby, even as she had no alternative but to drink from her mother’s breast, but assumed that she was thousands of years out of date, which meant that they expected to be able to control her ability to gain information about the world around her.
They were wrong. Their control over the flow of information was sloppy, and she was able to gain quite a bit as her body matured rapidly. For one, the city they were in was known as ‘Gotham’, one of the no doubt hundreds of large American cities she’s never heard of, and it was just past the turn of the millennium, a modern time period! It was exciting.
Supposedly, her role was to destroy their enemies, those who oppose the ‘Spirit of Gotham’s chosen champion, The Bat Man’. She supposed he was some sort of magician who made a pact with the city, or perhaps some kind of bat demon that claimed the city as their territory? She wasn’t quite clear on the geopolitics, her cult didn’t tend to speak plainly.
As it turned out, The Bat Man did not appreciate their initiative.
About six months into her new life, a man dressed as a comic book superhero, one of the edgy ones, like Owlman, burst into the cult’s compound and started beating up all of the cultists with his bare hands and a few ninja tools.
Ah, it wasn’t “The Bat Man”, but ‘The Batman’. Unfortunately for the cultists, their prowess at rituals aside, they didn’t have much in the way of combat magic. Correcting that deficiency was the whole point of creating the servant hanyou, after all.
What did she do? Clearly, her directives to ‘defend her masters’ and defeat the ‘enemies of the Batman’ were in conflict, so instead she used what little magic she could manage to sneakily fly out the way the Batman came in, hoping that she could find… there!
Promisingly, the Batman had a very expensive looking armored vehicle waiting outside, just waiting for a little stowaway. It was even unlocked! While she was a lot larger than a six month old had any right being, she was still able to squeeze into a space behind the passenger seat, which was cramped but surprisingly comfortable; he kept a trauma blanket here.
It took somewhat longer than she thought it would take for the Batman to return to his vehicle. He seemed frustrated, given how he immediately slammed his fist on something and let out some choice expletives. He started the car, and apparently made a call, because he started talking to someone, despite the passenger seat still being empty. “Alfred, “ He said, his voice colored by an affected growl that he didn’t use when swearing. Given how soft his voice sounded even while swearing, she understood why he’d do that; she did the same thing in the Imperial military. “The cult’s dealt with, the GCPD have arrived. But I ran out of time before I could find that little girl they were keeping.” What?
“A little girl, sir?” this ‘Alfred’ was a distinguished British gentleman, on the older side, from the voice. “I thought the reports were of a soul-eating demon.” Were they talking about her?
“Yeah, I thought so too.” Batman replied, “I’m not going to let them judge and extrajudicially execute anyone, even if they are criminals.” Ah. Yes, they were talking about her. “But this ‘Lilith’ had a room, and it looked like it was a nursery that had a child’s bed added recently enough that they haven’t removed the crib yet. Can’t be sure of the time frame without going through their computers, which I’ll do at the cave, but that’s nowhere near young enough to survive on the streets of Gotham, their delusions about her being a soul-eating demon notwithstanding.”
Well, that was good enough for her. She knocked on the passenger seat. After a moment, she tried again. After another moment, she changed tactics. “In a prison of my own design, I order this latch offline.” It was a bit weak of a rhyme, and whispering it weakened the spell further, but it worked. The passenger seat’s seal broke, and Tanya’s slight weight pushed it further. She quickly faked being asleep, cuddling deeper into the trauma blanket.
“-if we don’t find her, “ Batman was saying, before startling at her appearance. They were driving through a tunnel of some kind. “...nevermind.”
“Sir?” Alfred asked.
“Prepare a room for a… three year old girl.” Batman said, Yes! “She stowed away.”
“Of course, Master Bruce.” Alfred said. Jackpot!
Still, it would be best if she was actually asleep, so she murmured as quietly as possible: “When in need of rest, a quick nap is best.” Now, she’s never done this and that was one sloppy rhyme, so how-
Darkness.
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When she woke up, she was on a luxurious mattress, much larger than needed, with bars on them. They weren’t quite ‘this is a crib’ height, but they were a little taller than the ones on her child-sized bed at the compound.
Now, the morning checklist: Did she cause magical mayhem in her sleep again? Looking around… no. No burn marks, mysterious cuts, everything seems to be in a place where it could plausibly be placed… excellent. On the more mundane side, did her diaper leak? No, but she was wearing a different brand.
Next, she checked the sleeves of her night dress. Hm… looks the same. No growth spurt. She smelled her breath. Still smelled a little like the trenches, but not any more than usual. She checked her fingernails and toenails. Still human standard, except for the obsidian-black coloration. She ran her tongue carefully over her teeth… Same number of molars, good.
She went into the bathroom, stripping to check her skin over for any suspicious textures. Then, she realized this room had a full-length mirror. The cult were superstitious about mirrors for some reason, they were forbidden within the compound. Given their actual magical knowledge, there might have been a good reason behind this habit, but this was the first time she had been able to see her new face.
It looked… pretty much the same as it did in her second life. Her whole body did, really, although she had to compare herself at three years instead of six months, naturally. Fluffy hair, pale skin… not quite the same shade though, it had a bit of a gray tinge to it. The only real difference she could notice beyond that was also coloration: she had black hair, and her eyes were not quite the same shade of blue, instead a darker shade. Right, back to checking for mutations.
Argh, her thigh had a metallic patch. “A Devil I may be, but a human is what they’ll see.” She intoned, forcing her magic to fix the mutation. Her magic rebelled at the act, the sensation very much like someone slipping a picture of a disease-ridden abscess in between the pages of a pornagraphic doujinshi. It was the only time she had thrown the first punch at someone in her first life. It was sickening, and caused Tanya to vomit bile into the toilet, but it was a necessary step. She patted her thigh, finding only pale skin. Good.
“Are you alright, Miss Lilith?” Asked a concerned-sounding British voice.
She yelped in shock, leaping backwards into the bathtub and crouching behind the cover. Her hand flexed in the proper posture to fight with a mage-blade as she readied her legs to leap out from behind- wait.
The man in front of her, definitely the ‘Alfred’ that Batman had spoken with was clearly some kind of butler. She estimated his age as somewhere in his fifties, and he looked genuinely concerned, although he kept his distance, staying within one step of the door. “...I’m fine now.” She said, dismissing further inquiry while also acknowledging what he just witnessed.
“Hm. if you say so.” He said, skeptical but willing to let the matter slide, for now. “I suppose now would be a good time for a bath, then?”
“...Yes.” She said, turning to the faux crystal knob that, from appearances, controlled all facets of the bathtub.
“Wait, let me-” Alfred said before she guessed at the function and turned on the water. Steaming water immediately gushed out, splashing her with water that was likely not hot enough to cause any actual damage. She didn’t even flinch, it was nothing compared to hellfire.
“...is this knob actually made of diamond?” She asked incredulously. This was definitely not plastic.
“Yes, actually.” Alfred said, “It’s a bit gaudy, but it was installed before my time.” He looked at her a bit strangely. “The water isn’t too hot for you?”
“It’s nice.” She said truthfully. Even when fully human, she always had a bit of a masochistic streak when it came to hot baths. They liked hanging out with the old men at the bathhouse, and they always had good stories to those who were willing to listen respectfully. Still, Alfred had removed his suit jacket and was rolling up his sleeves, and she was still a small child, for now, so she just sat down and let him spare her the trouble of dealing with the full-sized bar of soap with her tiny hands. He poured some liquid soap at the front of the tub, causing an avalanche of soap bubbles to emerge as the tub filled.
Right around when the tub finished filling, Alfred decided to chat. “I must say, you’re remarkably well spoken for your age.”
“Technically, I’m six months old.” She replied, molding the mountains of bubbles idly as she waited. “Can’t be a hellspawned assassin if you take over a decade to become useful.” Honesty was a risk, but what was he going to do? Kill her? Laughable.
“Oh dear.” Alfred said as he started to scrub. “There will be none of that in this household, I can assure you that much.”
“Fantastic!” She said sincerely. “I’ve had enough killing for at least three lifetimes.”
“I know the feeling.” He said solemnly. Somehow, she believed him. He had a melancholy air to him that she knew very well. “How did it happen? Master Bruce will want to know, for his records.”
“It wasn’t here, it was during a war.” She clarified, “These hands have not taken any lives.”
Alfred hummed at her claim. “So the claim of… what was it… ‘binding a demon to a mortal form’ had merit?”
She shrugged, idly popping bubbles as she got washed. “They didn’t teach me enough demonology for me to know if I’m actually a demon or not.” She said, “I was mortal, once.” Does being summoned by demonologists mean she counts as one? She wasn’t sure. She tilted her head. “Do I count as a mortal now?”
“I would say so, Miss Lilith.” Alfred said. “So twice, then.”
“Thrice, actually.” She corrected, “Each time in a different world, and I know for a fact that this one isn’t connected to the other two.” She was fully free from Being X, as there was no way he would have left her alone like he had if he was capable of seeing that she had escaped. “...Also, I don’t like that name.” She said, “Don’t call me Lilith.”
“What would you prefer?” Alfred asked immediately.
“...I’m a girl this time, so Tanya will do.” Tanya said, “Plus whatever family name Batman has.”
Alfred huffed in amusement. “While I’m not disagreeing, that’s a bit presumptuous, isn’t it?” He asked.
“Oh, the cult used Batman’s genetic material in my creation. Blood, I'm pretty sure.” Tanya said flippantly. “He’s my biological father, although I’m curious if a DNA test would agree with me.”
Alfred was quiet as he processed that. “Close your eyes.” He said, and started washing Tanya’s hair. “If you’re so sure he’s your father, why wouldn’t a DNA test show that?”
“They had a magical ritual that could turn an arbitrary gene sample into viable sperm, and automatically achieve fertilization as a bonus.” Tanya deadpanned. “I’m trying not to assume they were just idiots who were sitting on a billion dollar fertility treatment and that there was some reason they didn’t commercialize it.”
“Well, the members of that particular cult included several wealthy patrons.” Alfred said, “According to the investigation. Perhaps money was just not a priority for them?”
Now that didn’t make any sense. “I’d rather believe they were just afraid of witch hunts.”
“That’s probably why.” Alfred said simply, taking the detachable shower head and rinsing Tanya’s head off. Once finished, he lifted her out and started drying her off with the softest towel Tanya had ever felt. “Now, given matters, I should ask: Will you be needing protection?” He asked, carrying her into the bedroom. She noticed that the ‘not-crib’ bed actually was a crib, but the bars could be partially raised to become a child’s bed. Handy. He gestured to what was clearly a diaper changing table, with a pack of diapers and training pants placed on top.
Tanya flushed. It was a legitimate question, but it was… embarrassing. “Yes… the cult didn't get around to potty training yet.” Besides, it's still not too late to turn her over to some kind of exorcist. Devils don’t have mortal foibles like needing to excrete, so a reminder of her human form would be useful. “I can start, though.”
“Very well.” Alfred said, before dressing her with speed borne of practice. She was not the first child this man has dealt with. “It’s time to go meet Master Bruce, then.”
Time to face the music.
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“Welcome to Gotham Lifestyle! I’m Gabby Gilder, and with me for lunch is the absolutely scrumptious Bruce Wayne!” Said the host of the talk show. Tanya shifted uncomfortably in her seat on the couch, anxiously checking her teeth again with her tongue. Even through the TV, she felt like she was there. She ate another one of the tiny slices of raw beef steak that Alfred had prepared for her off of the artfully arranged plate. She wasn't entirely sure to what degree she needed meat more than an ordinary human, but it probably wasn't ‘no extra meat'.
“It’s good to be here, Gabby.” Bruce said, smiling and without a trace of that growl that he used as Batman. “It’s always nice to spend a meal with a pretty young woman like yourself.”
“Oh Bruce, stop!” tittered the middle-aged talk show host. “Now, everyone’s talking about this mysterious daughter, the question is on everyone’s minds: who’s the mother?”
Bruce frowned. “Ah, let’s not talk about her. It’s an unpleasant story.”
“Well, at least talk about… Tanya, was it?” Gabby said, changing the subject.
“Certainly.” He said, all smiles once more. “Now, a guy like me gets women with black-haired blue-eyed children claiming I’m the father all the time.” He explained smoothly, drawing from what Tanya assumed to be truth to cloak the lies. “So we have a system, there’s a laboratory that has my DNA on file so we can just send over the comparison data and get an answer within two hours.” He actually has the equipment in his basement and the machine takes a mere half hour to exhaustively crosscheck the sample with the one on file.
“Now that’s a fun thing for a kid to hear after supposedly meeting their dad for the first time.” Gabby said jokingly. Tanya ate another slice of meat.
“Most of the time, the women reach out over the phone first, or through email, or through their lawyer who speaks to my lawyer.” Bruce explained. “I like having the test results in hand before meeting the child to avoid exactly that. The test is fast enough and simple enough by now that it’s easier to just run the test instead of going through the time and effort to dispute their claims.”
“But then you got a positive result.” Gabby said, finishing his story.
“Yes, but I’m afraid that this time was different in another way, too.” Bruce said sadly. “It was a hospital who contacted me on this matter, not the mother.” He moved his arms vaguely, as if to say ‘now what?’. Tanya ate two slices of meat at once. They were too thin to get a good chew going otherwise.
“Ah, so she’s… passed?” Gabby said dramatically, faking concern.
“A mental hospital, actually.” Bruce said, frowning. “No place to raise a child, surely.”
“Bet that spiced up the initial meeting, huh?” Gabby said with a puerile giggle.
“Funny story… no.” Bruce said, getting to the point. Her biology prevented this from ever being fully secret. “Tanya wasn’t conceived… naturally.”
Gabby gasped. “So she’s… a clone?”
“Sort of?” Bruce said, with his usual confidence completely absent, replaced with awkwardness. He was a fantastic actor. “I’m pretty sure it doesn’t count as cloning. I’m not a scientist. The details aren’t important.” Just enough truth to make the public’s imagination think of mad scientists doing unethical bioscience instead of demonologists. Well played.
“But you took her in anyway.” Gabby said,
“Well, she doesn’t exactly have anywhere else to go.” Bruce said, more firmly. “But more importantly, she needs very specialized care. Expensive care.” Tanya ate another slice of very expensive meat.
“Oh, you mean she’s…” Gabby looked around suspiciously, a very odd thing to do for something that was going to be broadcasted “Special?” She stage-whispered.
“Not that kind of care.” Bruce clarified. “She’s aging faster than she should. She looks three, but she’s actually six months old. As you can imagine, this creates… complications.”
“I can only imagine…” Gabby said, sounding heartbroken. “She won’t even live to become an adult at that pace…”
“Her prospects aren’t necessarily that grim.” Bruce countered, “Growing up and growing old aren’t the same thing, biologically.” After a beat, he added: “At least that’s what the doctors said.” Doctors which were utterly baffled as to her biology and sworn to secrecy. She should have starved, according to them. “-and she’s remarkably bright, already talking and walking. We’re optimistic that she'll at least make it to twenty-five, maybe even thirty.” The studio audience loudly expressed concern. “That's without fruitful treatments. She’ll outlive me if I have anything to say about it.”
“Truly an inspiration. It was very brave of you to tell everyone about this.” Gabby said, sucking up to the billionaire.
“Well, unless I keep her locked up in a tower or something, people are going to notice if she looks five by Christmas.” Bruce said, laughing. “Best to get it out of the way now. In the interests of keeping her privacy, I’d like to change topics.”
“Right, so does this mean the search for a stepmother for little Tanya has begun?” Gabby said, keenly interested.
Tanya turned off the oversized television. Well, people know now. As long as she plays dumb in public, toning down her grammar and acting childish, she can preserve Father’s cover story without needing to advertise her true nature. She can probably get away with it as long as she doesn’t act older than her apparent age, the mind following the body is one thing, but it’s quite another to be talking like a college graduate while still wearing diapers.
Should be fun, honestly. She does enjoy banter, after all. Being able to just point at people and say rude things because ‘she doesn’t know any better’ should be plenty amusing when the time comes to act her age. Being raised by strict nuns meant that essentially no part of childhood was actually enjoyable, but being raised by a billionaire in a modern world, without Being X hanging over her head… should be much more entertaining.
Speaking of the modern world… Tanya cackled as she started up her brand new gaming console. “Going around at the speed of sound, got places to go, gotta follow that rainbow!” She sang along with the game’s background music as she started the first level. She loved this series in her first life, but stopped playing it before the transition to 3D games, having outgrown them. Now she’ll be able to start again right where she left off.
Sure, the fact that her Father moonlights as a brutal vigilante without possessing superpowers is definitely going to get him killed… Ah shit. She’s going to need to help him, isn’t she? If she wants to keep all of this? He’d be a fool to leave her his entire fortune, given that she’s only technically his daughter, and more of a charity case…
Well, he was smart enough to steal the cult’s magical tomes on his way out as part of his general policy of confiscating dangerous materials before the cops got their corrupt hands on them, so she’ll just have to start there. She might be able to use her new magic to support him… but she’d feel better if she had more to go on than spouting rhymes while focusing real hard on changing reality.
Besides, there might be information in there about her nature as a hanyou. Mother did mention a ‘demon form’ that she should be able to assume…
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Okay, so from an omniscient perspective, Tanya’s a damned soul that transformed themselves into a Devil to permit escape from the torment that Being X imposed on her. From the DC perspective, she’s an amalgamation of Raven, Damien Wayne, Zatanna, and Etrigan.
The weird age situation may be controversial, but the idea was that between that and her concern over losing her meal ticket, Tanya feels obligated to help out on the Batman side of things instead of just staying out. Setting things up this way means that I can still have her develop enough to start contributing as a sidekick (backline only, until she discovers her devil form) without losing the opportunity to incorporate the comedy of Tanya acting childishly to troll people, as she did in the omake of the one piece fic. When she’s interacting with the Batman side of things, or in private, she can be mature and offer sage advice, learning more about magic and providing on-demand spells or magical gadgets for Batman to use. But when she’s interacting with the Bruce Wayne side of things, she’s instead acting even younger than she looks, and doing so in a way that’s entertaining for her. Bruce can’t complain, either, because he was the one who wanted to discourage people from discovering that he’s harboring a literal devil child.
Comments
Dragonin
This checks most of my boxes. Slice of life, protagonist gets to act both of their ages, op protagonist is still not biggest fish, uncanny valley present but not necessarily emphasized, Alfred being himself, Bruce totally not having an adoption problem. I look forward to seeing where this goes
