Humans were such a fickle and easily fooled species. No matter the realm, universe or the version of Earth he visited, it remained that Humans were the greediest of all species. Humans~ Always so quick to jump at the chance for more wealth, to conquer another, to sate their lust be it for flesh or blood. It amused Nyarlathotep especially when that foolish greed led to these idiotic mortals to approach him. Begging for help to further the own supposed grand destiny. Only to be driven mad by their own consuming greed as he laughs at their joyous screams.
And no matter how many times it happened, history would repeat itself in a never ending spiral of chaos of his own creation. Because human mortals were so, so very predictable.
He was Nyarlathotep, the Holder of Infinite Shapes and The Crawling Chaos. He had many masks and many names, for he was the Spirit and Mind of the Outer Gods and the most loyal servant Azathoth. His glorious and most joyous purpose was to exact their will upon the mortal realms, sowing as much chaos as he wished whilst doing so. There is no time, realm nor place he has not stepped and left his mark in the minds of those driven into insanity. The Great Old Ones entrusted him with the joyous responsibility to deliver their message to their followers and bring more mortals into the fold. To prepare the worlds for their awakening and bring forth the end of the reign of Humanity.
This Earth would be no different. Already he has set forth the end of a thousand different versions in other universes. This one shall be no different, for he already has the perfect plan in mind. For this Earth has mortal godlings whom think they are just as powerful as him and the Great Old Ones. Foolish greedy beings. But, perfect for his plan.
It's ridiculously easy to seduce the Greek upstart, Eris. A piece of his powers for a child born of their union. Silly child, thinking she can handle any form of his powers. He would revel in her eventual madness later. For now, Nyarlathotep must intercept a certain pair of human mortals.
He could already taste the chaos this child would unleash upon this mortal realm.
"You shall not fail me, my little prince," The Yellow King crooned molding the withering mass of black limbs and golden rings into the mortal husk that would act as it's shell and disguise. Before binding the two together as one by carving his sigil into the brow of the now screaming baby, which morphed into a faint scar in the shape of a ring of horns. Placing the newly disguised monstrosity into the crib, he smirked stroking the nearly invisible sigil, "Erýuniho'tep, my child, rest now and dream of your destiny."
Nyarlathotep had chosen well when he chose the Drakes to raise his eldritch spawn. In all the universe, the Drakes proved to be incompetent caretakers of their son in one way or another. Many times this lead that child down the path of evil, something the Yellow King was hinging his bets on. And he had already solved the problem of how to get the Drakes to raise Erýuniho'tep in place of their son, Timothy.
It was a rather simple fix actually. This world's Drakes' son died in his sleep whilst within the care of their new young nanny as the pair were off on some dig. Suffocated by the well meaning woman who thought the infant was lonely and placed an over abundance of plush animals within his crib to comfort him. In one reality, the young nanny finds the dead infant in the morning and calls the Drakes, who are more devastated over the lost of their investment then the child. But in this, the eldritch entity simply hollows out the child and places his spawn within the husk. Chuckling as the nearly formless mass melds and fuses with the human skin, incorporating his form into it's own and making it it's own. Devouring the infant's still developing soul and conscious as it does so.
The blue skin returning to it's healthy pale pink, the once still chest rising and falling as the child screamed back to life, uncaring of the sigil now drawn on his forehead. Erýuniho'tep was Timothy Jackson Drake, just as Timothy was the Golden/Horned Prince, Erýuniho'tep. They were one and the same now.
Nyarlathotep slithered back between the cracks of the realm just as the young nanny burst into the room to tend to her now hysterically crying charge. Yes, the Drakes were the best choice for raising Humanity's Downfall.
---
Really, if not for one small thing, Nyarlathotep's plan would have worked. The Drakes' cold demeanor towards their son, neglectful behavior and mixture of physical/verbal abuse would have driven Erýuniho'tep right down the path towards the World's destruction. Except for one little thing that derailed the deity's whole plan before it could bear fruit.
Erýuniho'tep, or Timothy as his mortal parent's called him, was a silent child who hardly ever spoke unless prompted. A cold logical/illogical being that gazed upon humanity with an indifferent, if childish, demeanor. His advanced intellect made it hard for him to connect with others his age or those older then him, and his cold, intense gaze made it hard for others to endure his presence. He had never seen or felt warmth before in his short, yet long, existence. Until one day, his mortal parents in a fit to be seen as a loving family, even if they were the farthest thing, dragged their son to a circus that had come to Gotham.
And here is where the Yellow King's plan failed.
A chance meeting of a boy who radiated sunshine and a hug that invoked a feeling of warmth within the young eldritch spawn, the feeling of hope and a spark of love. As this was the first sign of affection he had been shown in so long. And seeing how the sunshine boy was with his own parent's radiating love and happiness at being with each other, invoked another feeling within the strange silent child; longing. Longing for that kind of warmth for himself.
Little Timothy was drawn to that warmth, even after witnessing the fall of the Sun's parents and the Sun being swept off into the night by the Shade. Because he had felt the warmth of the Sun and craved to know more of what this spark was that bloomed within his cold chest, Little Timothy decided to follow the Sun and find more.
It was terribly easy to escape his home at night, especially for a four year old such as himself. After all, the Shadows were eager to help their master and happily allowed Timothy to walk through them into the InBetween as he crept after the Sun and the Shade. But the Sun had changed.. The happy brightness was now burning with Anger and that confused the young spawn. So, the child stayed in the Shadows as he watched over his heroes. Uncaring as he learned their true names and their identities. He only wished to watched and learn.
He had first came in order to find more of that spark, but as he watched the Duo he couldn't help but wonder. Why did they fight so hard to change such a cold, cruel and unforgiving world? Trying to understand Little Timothy continued to follow and watch, taking photos in order to study their behaviors and actions deeper later. He could not shake this need to learn and understand. Why did they wish to save these pitiful humans?
As the years went by, the Sun grew older and angrier...his flaring rage burning Timothy's eyes when ever the young spawn looked at him without his mortal sight. The Spawn wondering why the Sun raged against the Shade when it was clear both cared deeply for their small found family? A few months after the Sun ran from the protection of the Shade, Timothy found another spark of humanity.
He found a being that sparkled and shown with starlight, a Sun that was dimmed and cracked by the evils of the world surrounding it yet instead of extinguishing...formed into something new. A soft, gentle and distant light that shown even on the darkest nights. Something that filled Erýuniho'tep with a strange feeling he had never felt before. The feeling of Hope. That no matter how cruel the world around him seemed, there was Hope for a better tomorrow.
And it came in the form of a skinny, underfed boy, about three years his mortal senior with hair as dark as dried blood and eyes that glittered like broken sea glass. A being of gruff mannerisms and rough sort of charm that made Timothy feel safe and seen for the first time in such a long long time. Since the Sun had given him his first hug and that spark of affection.
"Just what is some tiny little shit like ya doing in Crime Alley?" Tan lips pulled back into a shit-eating grin revealing a missing tooth and a dimple as the Stars smiled.
"Watching." Came the quiet reply, whispered from the tiny, ghostly form hidden almost seamlessly within the shadows of the Batmobile.
"Well, little stalker, why don't ya watch for the Big Bat for me? Imma jack his tires. Show him why ya shouldn't leave something this expensive in fucking Crime Alley." Mischief and barely hidden hunger sparked in glittering sea glass, tire iron spinning in shaking hands. Desperation lead many to do stupid things, Timothy noted. Perhaps the Stars would be taken like the Sun. Hopefully for a better life and not consumed by anger.
G.I. was well loved by their family with the few years they had in their hands. G.I. does not remember these people.
When they were kidnapped, G.I. could not speak then, so they cried. Hungry? Cry. Tired? Cry.
"Is that G.I. again."
"Who else?"
"I swear to fucking god, I know they can't speak--"
When G.I. was barely 2 and finally understood language, the little consideration they received dissipated. G.I. struggled to understand this. Where was the warmth? They would take anything. Anything at all. G.I. does not understand this yearning either.
"Quit crying. Big kids don't cry. You're a big kid now, aren't you?"
G.I. still cries! It's something they haven't yet learned to stop. They aren't completely unable to express their emotions, it's just very difficult to control how they express it. Even if they put effort into it, people will always mistake their feelings as something else entirely. Sometimes even when they don't feel anything, they find themselves crying for no reason at all.
Anyway they grow to be very sure of their actions so it's all good, sometimes the handlers wonder if they were too kind to G.I. when they were still an impressionable toddler because of how often G.I. tends to disrupts class. They don't even know where their disruptive behavior stems from, or who they learned these ideas from.
Perfect Records - The sound of tomorrow Kygo's brand new song from the upcoming album Cloud nine. Fragile, featuring Labrinth! Follow Kygo http://kygomusic.c...
