They two came first: Day and Night. Light and Dark. The rolling Sun and eternal Void.
But others came after.
The stories that mortals told one another could spin a new god into being if enough minds believed - or add layers to ones that already existed. Faces they could change between, new names they answered to, sometimes an additional sphere of influence to command. Many deities folded these new personas into themselves, incorporating the added elements. Others kept each preserved, unique, and rotated between wildly different identities as needed.
And then there were those few who embraced a new aspect, only to discard it as soon as the relevant mortal culture and stories died away. Gods who did not bother to retain their old portfolios in favor of constant adaptation, changing with the times.
Some shook their heads and called the tactic a waste, a weakness. Those who engaged in it insisted they would not be weighed down by the past, spending pointless energy to keep the memory of lost civilizations alive within themselves.
The Night expressed no opinion. He only knew of the strategy thanks to the Moon changing her informal name every so often, and seeing as she never seemed ill affected by her choice, he remained indifferent to it.
(But perhaps that too would change.)
He stood upon the edge of a rooftop, a single point of perfect darkness, gazing out impassively across his city. And Gotham was, truly, his city at this point. Whispers of the Bat flowed through the backstreets and alleyways, making the criminals clutch at their weapons and more innocent souls breathe just a tad easier.
There were shrines popping up, too. Alfred had helped him create a small temple in the cavern beneath the Manor, something to anchor his power in Gotham, but shrines- Tucked away in corners, hidden in the shadowed nooks, each one served to spread his influence, catching and multiplying every bit of belief offered up to his name. To his symbol.
The outline of it still hummed against his chest. Simple curves and narrow points, nothing elaborate. Nothing flashy. But so far, it proved to be his best choice, out of all the new things pulled into his sphere of influence. People had begun to carve it into bricks, to spray paint it onto concrete and asphalt - each one a testament, not only to his growing influence, but to the good he was doing.
Someday, the overhanging layer of fear might just dissipate enough he could request the Patron of Hope make a proper visit to the city.
Caught up in the pride over his work, it took the god a moment longer than usual to notice the increasing glow around him. At first he tensed, alarmed that the Day had come to try and convince him of returning to the divine plane.
But the light didn’t brighten to obnoxious levels; it remained a soft, silvery color, rather than the overwhelming yellow of the sun. And that put a different sort of alarm into him.
“So I hear you’ve been getting into more trouble than usual,” a voice purred.
“Moon,” he rumbled, turning to face her. Rather than the elegant gowns or silver armor of days past, she approached him wearing a black bodysuit, equipment belt slung low around her hips, intense gaze hidden by a pair of goggles. “Selina,” he amended.
She hummed, looking his guise up and down. “And what should I be calling you these days, my Lord Night?”
Before, he wouldn’t have reacted to the mocking title beyond a stern grunt. Now, he grimaced at it, and turned back towards the roof’s edge. “Bat. Or Bruce.”
After a beat, her footsteps resumed their approach, muted like a feline padding across snow, or perhaps thick carpet. “How about Tiger?”
He twitched, eyeing her sidelong as she stepped right up alongside him. “No.”
“You sure? I’ve been saving that one for you. Could use Kitten instead, I suppose-”
“Selina,” he huffed.
“Cat,” she corrected, angling just enough to smile up at him. For once, it appeared genuine, instead of mocking. “If you’re the Bat, then I’m the Cat.”
“...alright,” he managed to say, more than a little taken aback. “What are you doing here, Cat?”
“Wonder’s looking for you. Apparently the Day has gone missing, and she wants your help to find him.”
And just like that, he could feel his walls pressing back in. “Then she can ask the Oracle. I’m busy.”
“Pretty sure she would, except Little Miss See-It-All is missing too.”
That- sounded alarming.
Bruce ended up bringing her as far as the rear gardens of the Manor.
Selina couldn’t come down into the caves with him - just as his empowered form required the cover of darkness to travel anywhere in the mortal realm, so too did Selina need to remain in places where her moonlight reached. They could, of course, fold down into purely mortal shells to escape the impediment, but-
But.
Being Bruce Wayne... he didn’t quite want to share that part of himself. Not yet. And for all that the Moon knew him best of anyone besides, perhaps, the Day- he didn’t think she wanted to really expose so much of herself to him either.
There were many eons of harsh words and curt dismissals to overcome first.
Still. She liked Alfred, when the man came out for an introduction. And he seemed a touch charmed in return, with the easy, teasing manner Selina liked to speak in, especially each time Bruce huffed an exasperated breath.
By the time Dawn began to paint the eastern sky, their garden possessed a new little bower, with silver flowers blessed by moonlight. “If you ever need a touch of divine help besides his,” Selina said, smirking in Bruce’s direction, “Pluck one of these off the vine, and I’ll come as soon as I can.”
“You are extremely generous, Miss Selina - perhaps, though, I might be able to do something else if there’s a cup of tea in need of sharing, rather than an emergency?”
The Goddess of the Moon laughed, already starting to fade back to the divine realm. “Just one petal, then, for social calls.”
Once she was gone, Bruce let his shadows fall away as well, returning to the much smaller and more visibly petulant form of an eight year old boy. “A cup of tea?”
“Well, if you won’t indulge in such rituals with me, Master Bruce...”
“Hmph.”
Back in her own domain, the Moon spent some time pondering, fingers tracing idly over her collections of precious gems and silver coins. Bat. Or Bruce. He’d never gone so far before. Not in all the eons they’d danced around one another.
She could feel that dance changing already - from the traditional, stifling steps, contained and repeated in an endless cycle, to something... different. New.
Interesting.
Restless, the Moon set aside her trinkets and went for a walk.
She didn’t take the usual pathways frequented by other gods going on visits or rambles; too easy. Rather, she slipped along narrow ledges, squeezed through impossibly small cracks and gaps, twisted between barriers of blazing light and hungering poison, leapt across voids deeper and more dangerous than even the Night’s domain. No ancient evil or slumbering titan so much as twitched when the Moon crept past their prisons; no spirit of sight or eternal watchdog noticed her passage through places she really shouldn’t have been able to get into.
But she played only by her own rules, and no one could truly keep out moonlight forever.
Eventually, she slid down a winding slope of sand, and with a flicker of will to keep herself dry, entered an underwater palace. The weight and wet bothered her more than they used to, before quite so many feline qualities slipped into her personality, but she still maintained an unbothered air through the quiet corridors.
...actually. Make that the silent corridors.
The Moon softened her steps even further, and checked around each corner. No guards, no servants, no lesser deities... But still a power lingered, and she moved unerringly towards it at the heart of the palace.
She’d never truly gotten on with the Ocean in all his vast overbearing power, but some lesser gods who embodied individual aspects of the greater whole could be quite fun in their own ways. And fortunately, the one she sought now was still present. Just- caught up in a truly disconsolate mood, the likes of which the Moon hadn’t seen since the last time she went and poked Misery. “Now what has got the Tide Queen so down in the dumps, hm?”
It took a moment for Mera to lift her crowned head and blink; another to recognize her guest and attempt a smile. “Hello, Moonglow.”
Throne or not, a chair was a chair, and she didn’t hesitate to go straight up and drape herself over a seashell-speckled armrest. “Hi. Did you hear my question or do I need to repeat it?”
The other goddess sighed. “I heard.” But she did not answer.
Concern going up another notch, Selina reached over to poke the top tip of that starfish crown. “And?”
“...my husband is not himself.” Ah.
“Neither is mine, at the moment,” she hummed. “Personally, I’m finding the change rather exciting.”
“Not all of us feel weighed down by our stories such as you, my friend.” Yet even as she said it, Mera’s form and flowing clothes flickered, skin and hair and fabric shifting, to Kimbazi, then Amphitrite, even Mazu, before settling back into the Atlantean personality Selina liked best. “Orin is calling himself Arthur, now. And every time I attempt to call him, he- ignores me.”
“Rude,” Selina promptly muttered, which made Mera crack a smile. “I’d offer my counsel, but somehow I think you already know exactly what I would say.”
“To quit wasting my time with calls, and go fetch him myself?” Mera’s tone came out dry, her words entirely correct. But after a moment she sighed again, shoulders slumping once more. “I fear attempting to do so would cause... more harm than I’d like.”
“Relationship-wise, or do you mean harm to whatever stretch of shoreline he’s hanging out on?”
“Yes.”
Selina’s turn to smile, then. She followed it up by tugging on a floating strand of long red hair. “Well... I hear mortal forms are all the rage, these days-”
Her friend interrupted, “I cannot. The power my husband and I imbue in these halls is all that keeps the memory of Atlantis alive - at least one of us must remain here at all times. I could send an avatar with basic orders, but not go myself.”
“Hmm.” That would prove trickier. Avatars did great at accomplishing simple tasks, with a great deal of power and unwavering dedication, but too many complicating factors or interventions from others tended to make them cranky. “Well... How about finding someone else to go knock sense into his head on your behalf?”
“Somehow, I doubt you are personally volunteering,” Mera said.
“And you are absolutely correct - however! I happen to know of someone who owes me a favor, and just so happens to be very talented in the art of knocking heads...”
Ironically, she found Wonder already in the mortal realm.
“Don’t you look impressive,” Selina purred, slipping into the taller woman’s personal space. The outfit wasn’t much to speak of (a plain white shirt, jean jacket, and beige slacks), but the body underneath that outfit easily attracted many an admiring gaze from passing pedestrians. Selina didn’t doubt she could pick up an annoying individual even without a touch of divine power, beefy arms barely straining.
For her part, Wonder only gave a bare twitch at the unexpected intrusion. “Selina?”
“Present,” she gave a little flutter of her fingers. “Night sends his regards, by the way. Or at least his version of regards. But that’s not why I’m here.” In brief, she laid out her visit with Mera, the lack of her partner putting the ocean goddess in a bad slump, and the need for someone to go deal out a little judicious common sense, preferably with a bit of physical violence for the bargain.
Selina honestly expected the patron of shock and awe to jump at her offered task; instead, Wonder’s face looked decidedly pinched by the end of her spiel. “I appreciate you bringing this to my attention, and I will help, but it needs to wait.”
Her expression didn’t waver, but Selina let a hard note step into her tone. “Oh?”
Then, it became her turn to listen to a tale, a more complete one than Wonder’s initial worry with Night, this time concerning over a dozen missing deities, some major, some minor, all of them likely trapped in mortal shells with no inkling of their true selves. By the end of it, Selina had lost her feigned nonchalance, fingers tapping against each folded arm.
Still. She made a promise to her friend. “How about a deal, Wonder. A Bargain.” The air around their little stretch of sidewalk hummed with faint power. “You go check to see if the Ocean is in this realm of his own accord, or if he’s been affected by this scheme to draw divine beings back into the mortal realm too.”
Wonder arched a brow. “And in return?”
Selina pulled her lips back in her sharpest, craftiest grin. “I’ll run back to Gotham, and not leave until I get Night to help you track down Day.”
