𝔇 -- ᵉ𝘈 𝕕 𝙴𝘠ᵉ

Deadeye,  is it?

@ONCECAPTAINS ♡(>ᴗ•)

girl shut up

@ONCECAPTAINS, * kissy face

Girl…

@ONCECAPTAINS, * leave me alone

aloisia martin aka lin dailu aka lisa lin aka the girl who was Death herself aka the deadeye  Welcome back  ♡

@jujishou         ❪B❫:           〃   (…)    I  never believed in a God.   Not for me,  at least.   In a way I believe in self.   I believe in the people.   I wouldn’t be able to entertain the question you ask me,  I’m sorry.  〃                BRUCE’S RESPONSE IS ABSOLUTE.    HE PARTIALLY FEELS GUILTY ABOUT HOW MECHANICAL HIS RESPONSE SOUNDS LIKE,    THE OTHER PART UNDERSTANDS THAT PROCESSING GRIEF REQUIRES ONE TO BE REALISTIC.       GOD IS A FLEETING THING,   IF HE WAS REAL HIS PARENTS WOULD STILL BE WALKING ON THE SAME GROUND HE STANDS ON.    …   JASON WOULD HAVE LIVED.    AND BRUCE WOULD BE ABLE TO BE WHOLE AGAIN.      BUT THAT’S LIFE,  IT WASN’T FAIR—     WHY WOULD A MAKER ALLOW SUCH PAIN TO ENSUE?     THERE IS NO MAKER.       YOU  WERE BETTER OFF INDULGING IN ALCOHOL,      DRUGS,   AND OTHER DANGEROUS VICES IN ORDER TO MAKE YOUR OWN HEAVEN.          OF COURSE,   HE DOESN’T TELL ALOISA THIS.     OTHERWISE HE’D BE INDULGING IN THE VERY THOUGHT.        ❪B❫:           〃   You were close to him.   I can see that.    Would this be the way you’d like him to remember you?     If God wasn’t your audience? 〃               HE QUESTIONS.    ORDERING ANOTHER ROUND GLASSES FOR HIS NEW FOUND COMPANY.    SHE’S DISTANCE.    A BROKEN THING,   DESPITE BEING HARDENED WITH SCARS SHE’S AS FRAGILE AS GLASS.     BRUCE KNOWS IT ALL TOO WELL.    HE WANT’S TO OFFER SUPPORT,   BUT HIS GOOD CONSCIOUS WOULDN’T ALLOW HIM TO DISCUSS HIS OWN STORY.     SO,   HE’LL WAIT.   LINGER.   ALLOW ALOISA TO QUESTION HIM LIKE HE’S HER OWN GOD FOR TONIGHT.

aloisia has a face kissed with scars that have accumulated over time, eyes deep in thought— the eyes of a woman who’s looked at death and found it staring right back at her. shoulders once stiff and tense relax and she takes a short sip of the whiskey. finally, she speaks.
            
            “WHAT DO YOU THINK WAITS FOR US HUMANS BEYOND THIS LIFE, HM? creatures of filth and greed. creatures of murder. does god, if there is one, treat us with the same kindness he treats a lamb when we meet him?      ( . . . )     i’ve found myself watching the light leave the eyes of countless men in my time and yet up until now i don’t think i’ve ever wondered where that light goes.”
            
            lisa lin in this very moment wonders two things:
            (1) ALOISIA WONDERS IF A GOD TRULY EXISTS. AND IF SO, SHE WONDERS IF HE’S EVER LOOKED DOWN UPON HIS CREATIONS AND FELT DISGUST FOR WHAT HE’S MADE.        (existence is cruel in and of itself, but existing without those meant to be by your side forever felt even more cruel. ten hundred blades finding their home within the vessel of your heart.)         (2) ALOISIA WONDERS WHAT LIES IN STORE FOR HERSELF WHEN DEATH FINALLY CATCHES UP TO HER IN THIS GAME OF CAT & MOUSE THEY’VE BEEN PLAYING. (2.5) AND SHE WONDERS IF RICK FLAG AND THE MANY OTHERS LOST ON THE WAY WILL BE THERE WHEN DEATH MAKES THAT FINAL STRIDE.          (she hopes death has treated her best friend kinder than how life had treated him. the weight of living and existence lingers in the air even weeks after the death of flag. the silence that hung itself up in the air in his final moments as his heart stopped ring like a held note on a piano. an ache in the ear that eventually becomes apart of our lives like a white noise of sorts. at some point that noise becomes replaced with the sounds of gunshots, sobs, and explosions. perhaps there’s reason for each and every sound that occurs moments after death and beyond that. to subdue the words unspoken and unsaid by the deceased that stay in the air.)

it’s sick. twisted.  the deadeye thinks to herself.
            
            she shifts in her seat when she hears the sound of a stool next to her moving. in an attempt to find scraps of peace to feast upon in the desolate land that is this world, lisa fails to do so in every crevice and inch of earth and soil that she crosses. making her way to gotham city of all places was a spur of the moment decision; something not ideal but still something at the end of the day— even then, she fails to set herself free from the ties of rick flag. lisa finds it’s not exactly easy to wash off over ten-something years of history just like that, no, it’d be much harder. simple things remind the dismayed soldier of what could’ve been had she been faster, better— maybe, just maybe, if she was a second faster she’d find flag sitting next to her at this very moment, cracking a joke and taking a swig from his own pint. a comfortable thought, an impossible reality. it’s like a message from god herself stating that still standing here today was punishment for lisa’s own sins committed in this lifetime (although, perhaps the devil was a more fitting name for someone like waller.). it’s awfully tragic, the woman who was known as the deadeye, feared and renowned across the world, faced by her true enemy; living.
            
            with can of iced coffee in hand (though, a majority of the ice had already melted by then), aloisia glances down, swishing around the final contents of the can one last time before deciding she’s done with the drink. she places the can onto the counter, sighing. it’s only then does she decide to spare her attention to the stranger who sits next to her. when she realizes the whiskey ordered by the man that’s found its way to her side, she takes a mental note to pay him back before she leaves. eyes squint and narrow at the man, as if peering into his soul.

“i did not bow down to you, i bowed down to all the suffering of humanity.”     chapter 24, pg. 279,    Фёдор Достоевский’s Crime and Punishment.