How Suo Foils Sakura As A Character

I get winded by the fact that Dick and Damian fully expected to spend their foreseeable futures as Batman and Robin only for Bruce to come back and have them separate early. It was just a year but also it was spending every day and night together for a decade that just. Didn't come. Instead, Dick will tell Damian he wanted to adopt him and give him his parents' trapeze bar or Damian will feel threatened by Dick potentially having another child and try to hold onto him with all his might. It's a never ending game of chicken, both of them constantly flinching towards a future they'd already accepted, but being so insecure of what they mean to each other now that it didn't happen that they can only ever talk around it. It's clawing at someone you lost but they haven't left you. It's 'you belong to me in a way that you can never belong to anyone else but you're not mine'.

Adeyemi tries to use Lawrence's words against him in saying they are seeking a pope who "sins, asks forgiveness, and carries on", but Adeyemi never gets to the second part. From the beginning, he insists that he has done nothing wrong, that he was not at fault on account of his age, that the child may not even be his! His tears aren't of guilt, he cries because he's disappointed he has lost. He's crying for the death of his ambition, his dreams.

In the same way, Tremblay denies his sins from beginning to the bitter end, even in the face of undeniable evidence. Tedesco finds nothing wrong with his fascist views.

How can there be forgiveness when the sinner will not even acknowledge the sin?

I feel bad for Lin Ling, but my brain demands angst. Or the horrors. Miss J said that Nice's fans have been waiting long enough for him to reach the top. And if for the public (for it's significant part at least) heroes are nothing more than spectacular characters, what if even after Lin Ling became his own hero, some fans would demand Nice's comeback. Like "yeeeah the OG is dead((( but the copy looks just like him! also he has new cool fighting techniques! and he genuinely loves Moon like Nice is supposed to! idk the commoner is just a downgrade in comparison :( i miss Nice's grace, commoner is just... meh". They would leave negative comments, spread their opinion, attract like-minded people. And no matter how hard Lin tries to move on from Nice, Nice would be forced upon him. The fans' will is no joke after all. Damage to his mental health (he finally became "himself", but there're people who prefer false identity other the real one and see him as a perfect mannequin) would be bearable, but then their desires pile up and start to affect his appearance again - everyday, looking at the mirror, he would notice more and more white strands. And distinct flecks of blue in his brown eyes... Sure, he has loyal fans ready to support The Commoner no matter what, but the consequences of "playing Nice" would haunt him. Because it's the fans who create the hero. And some fans have different plans for you. Teehee.

Consider: Post-canon Zuko wakes up in the body of his childhood self, the morning of That War Meeting. Would he still speak against the plans, knowing his fate? What do you think he would do differently the second time around?

"Turned away at the doors, Zuzu?"

"Shut up, Azula," her brother sulked. But sulked weirdly, after staring at her too long and too wide-eyed, not like she'd surprised him but--

But like he hadn't expected her to be there. At all.

He turned away. ...He turned back. "Hey, Lala? Do you think you could help me practice that one set?"

He didn't meet her eyes.

She narrowed hers. "Which set?"

"The one I'm bad at."

She scoffed. Pushed away from the wall she'd been leaning against. "That's all of them, Dum-Dum."

He didn't shout or stomp or yell about the nickname. His lips twitched.

"It's okay," he said. "If you're afraid you won't be a better teacher that my instructor..."

It was the most obvious manipulation ever.

Perhaps if he proved an adequate firebending student, she'd work on his courtly survival skills next. Honestly, it was good that not even Uncle Gets-Cousins-Killed had been fool enough to take Zuko into that war meeting. She could only imagine how terribly that could have gone.

"Keep up," she said, and turned her steps towards the training grounds.

He did. There, and during the katas she ran him through.

Azula kept her eyes narrowed.

"Hey," he asked, "do you know how to bend lightning yet?"

As if he could have missed it, if she'd been able to get more than sparks. "I will soon," she said.

"You will," he agreed, and flowed through his next set. The one she'd only just mastered.

Father didn't notice how weird Zuzu was being. Uncle never noticed anything. Zuko ate dinner and asked a servant for seconds and didn't stutter or flinch or lose his appetite when father asked, coolly, what he'd done with his day. Azula's shoulders tensed, because one mention of how she'd squandered her own training time teaching him--

"Azula hogged the training grounds. For hours," Zuzu scowled, exactly like a petulant thirteen year old.

Exactly like he hadn't been acting all day.

By the time Father was looking her way, Azula had her usual smirk in place. "I'm sure there would be room for both of us," she said, "you're not afraid of a little friendly fire, are you, brother?"

Zuko sulked. And ate his seconds, like he was enjoying each bite. There was something in his eyes, like a joke no one else was getting.

---

Father died that night. A heart attack. There were the faintest of burns to either side of the treacherous organ; the royal physician hypothesized that he'd grabbed at his chest, fingers burning hot in his final moments; so hot they'd only exacerbated the problem.

The royal physician would never have been brought any victims of lighting strikes. Those that occurred in the capital did not generally require a doctor in the aftermath.

Zuzu ate a hearty breakfast.

He didn't order seconds. Azula gave him points, at least, for not being tacky.

---

The sages named Iroh as regent.

They named Zuko as Fire Lord.

"No," the tiny Fire Lord in his perfectly miniaturized Fire Lord robes said, sitting at the head of his war council. "We're not doing that. And I'll be reviewing all recent battle plans, as well. What's this I hear about a division of new recruits being deployed to the front?"

He did not mention how he'd heard of the 41st Division. No one asked.

"Prince Iroh, surely--" one of the generals tried to appeal.

The young Fire Lord's regent was looking as startled as the rest of them, for a moment. Then he sipped his tea, and smiled.

"Your Fire Lord is correct, of course. A change in our leadership--a change the other nations may mistakenly view as weakness--will necessitate a change in our strategy."

"Now," said their lord, "what, exactly, is our overall objective in this war?"

War, the new Fire Lord decreed, was not an end unto itself.

---

The new Fire Lord continued to have time, to pretend to be trained by her. Azula watched him. Adjusted her footwork. Did not tolerate, and was not offered, any commentary on who was teaching who.

"What did you do with my brother?" she asked, as they flowed from one set to the next. As her hands, poised to throw fire, just so happened to be pointed his way.

He missed a step. It didn't look like an act.

"I'm, uh. Right here?"

She didn't bother to dignify that.

He didn't bother to look worried about her hands, one movement off from a true attack.

He looked around, then grabbed her sleeve, and tugged her further from any walls that may hide ears. The royal family's private training grounds were wonderfully large, and wonderfully open.

"It's me," he said. "It's still me. Just. More of me? Longer of me?"

She narrowed her eyes. A familiar expression, by this point. "Explain."

"...I found the Avatar," he said. "And this is definitely his fault, but--but I guess it started at a war meeting, when I was thirteen."

Azula listened. It was a very Dum-Dum story.

okay, so i've yapped a lot about how umemiya and kaji relate to sakura's character development as a leader and now i want to yap about how his personal growth is mirrored in nirei (+suo).

at the beginning of the series, sakura and nirei were functionally polar opposites: sakura was physically strong, but was out of touch with his social and emotional skills, whereas nirei had strength in social and emotional intelligence, but was physically weak.

when sakura first met nirei, he formed a negative opinion based on what he could see that he would soon retract. it's hard to see inner strength at a glance, just like how it's hard to track the growth of one's inner strength, especially in a fighting series.

what isn't hard to track in a series like wind breaker is physical strength, which is where nirei's arc comes in.

nirei's journey in becoming physically stronger is running parallel to sakura's journey to build his emotional strength, meaning that nirei's growth in physical strength is a direct, visual representation of sakura's growth in emotional strength.

and the person who is largely shepherding these two in their respective journeys? suo.

suo not only helps translate emotional/social situations to sakura (and also sakura's emotions to others) thus helping him navigate those conflicts, but he is also nirei's literal fighting instructor.

he also sometimes has to guide nirei on how to interact with sakura since they're so opposite from each other, which does suggest a personal familiarity with both sakura and nirei's mindsets. (we don't know much about suo yet, but if i had to wager a guess, i would say that he started out both physically and emotionally weak, which would be why he has such a deep understanding of sakura and nirei.)

from what i can see, these three are a really well-crafted trio and i'm excited to see where the series takes them.

Honestly, I’m exhausted by the discourse surrounding Aldo Bellini :)))

Why can’t we keep the canon intact and build on it, rather than bashing Aldo’s character to fit a different narrative? The depth of his relationship with Thomas, the weight of their history, the fact that they know each other too well—that’s what makes their story so rich. It doesn’t need to be rewritten, and Aldo doesn’t need to be cast aside to justify another interpretation...

What exactly has he done wrong? The way people project their own political views onto this fictional character—one who has the courage to say outright that he refuses to be anything other than what he is and what he believes in, in order to sway undecided voters, even at the cost of the papacy—is ridiculous. The fact that he’s a liberal figure shouldn’t make him more politically skewed than the literal fascist in the film.

Yes, he stops speaking when the nuns enter the auditorium—who wouldn’t? They’re organizing a campaign in his name, one he never asked for.

Yes, he doesn’t address the women directly in the film as Benítez or Lawrence do. That does not make him a hypocrite regarding his views. The film is from Lawrence’s POV—we don’t see everything that happens outside of that lens.

He stands up to Tedesco, even if it’s short-lived, not because he’s weak, but because he’s done it countless times before, and it has changed nothing. It’s habitual—he has defended the late pope’s legacy against Tedesco before. As he himself mentioned, the smears, the leaks to the press—he faced the Venetian Patriarch again and again, likely alone, as one of the highest-ranking officials in the Vatican, shielding a dying pope who could no longer shield himself.

And Tedesco knew that. Canonically, he knew. Because he has eyes and ears everywhere in the Vatican. That’s why the last months of the late pope’s papacy were so brutal. Why the attacks against his leadership and his vision were so savage.

But Aldo still speaks up. He does. Thomas doesn’t. No one else in that room does—except Aldo and Vincent. And yes, Vincent articulates it better. He is more forceful, more impassioned, more genuine. Because this is his first time in the Curia, and he is stunned by the hypocrisy, by the blatant power-hunger of it all.

Aldo isn’t stunned. He can’t be. He has lived in it for too long, fought too many battles that went nowhere. He knows the game better than anyone, and he knows that fighting with everything he has won’t change the fact that the system has been built to withstand men like him. So does he still push back? Yes. Does he still try? Yes. But he no longer expects it to make a difference. Because it probably never has.

The idea that he is somehow spineless, or merely a foil to Vincent Benítez, while the actual deplorable men in the film go unchallenged by the fandom, is frustrating.

It ignores the central theme of Conclave: these are flawed, human men, all of them, shaped by faith, experience, and immense pressure. None of them are “better” than the others—they are all navigating their faith, their responsibilities, their mistakes, their choices.

Yes, Aldo later chooses a moderate candidate, Tremblay, rather than pushing for himself—but that’s what they’ve been reduced to by that point. Maybe if Aldo had been in the lead from the beginning, he would have fought harder. But it's one thing to be expected to win and another to be faced with the reality that he does not have enough support. And crucially, he has no idea that Tremblay only made it into the race because he bribed their brothers. Aldo isn’t playing politics for personal gain—he is choosing the lesser evil to salvage what he fumbled, to protect 40 years of progress, the legacy of the late Holy Father—progress that he personally fought for.

And we never know if Aldo actually accepted Tremblay’s offer to continue as Secretary of State if Tremblay won. We don’t even know if the offer was made. But even if it was—even if Aldo had accepted—it would not make him a bad person. It would not make him corrupt. It would make him pragmatic. It would make him someone willing to do what he could to keep his work alive, to preserve some of the progress of the Church, even in the face of his own failures. Accepting his shortcomings and trying to fix what he would be allowed to fix is not weakness. It is not cowardice. It is a man doing his best with what he has left.

Yes, in the book, he casts an early vote for someone who stands no chance, and then for Lawrence, who in his eyes is just as unlikely.

But imagine what it must be like to be so brilliant, so well-versed in theology, and so skilled in Vatican realpolitik, only to realize that those very traits make you unworthy of the papacy—because the papacy should be the result of divine intervention, not a media campaign that crowned him as the next pontiff before the conclave even began.

He knows the late pope betrayed Thomas’s trust by confiding in Aldo about Thomas’s struggles with prayer. And so he chooses to betray their late friend in return—not out of malice, but to ease Thomas’s burden, to tell him that even the pope had doubts too. To make sure Thomas understands that maybe the Church is what’s wrong—not Thomas, not him, not his faith.

Even in their worst moments, Aldo and Thomas do not let go of each other. They still sit next to each other, even after arguments. They still walk side by side. They still seek each other’s gaze, even in disapproval.

The core of Aldo and Thomas’s relationship—and I am only speaking about what we explicitly see—is that they know each other too well. So well that it’s uncomfortable. Their bond is deep, intimate, and painful because it forces them to confront parts of themselves they might otherwise ignore.

Thomas is right to call Aldo a coward in the moment that he does, but that doesn’t make him one—it means he was trapped by circumstance, by months of mounting pressure, by the expectation that he would step into the late pope’s shoes despite feeling unworthy. And Thomas knows that, too. That’s why he doesn’t make a sweeping judgment about Aldo’s character—he doesn’t mark him as faulty, doesn’t condemn him as lesser. He simply states that Aldo lacks the courage to become pope. Because at that moment, it’s true. But it isn’t about Aldo as a person—it’s about Thomas realizing, too late, that he backed the wrong candidate. That Aldo had been telling him from the beginning. That Aldo never wanted it. That he knew Aldo never wanted it and he finally accepted the truth of it.

And Aldo is right about Thomas’s ambition before Thomas even admits it to himself—before he confesses that he already has a papal name chosen.

Aldo—despite his anger—protects Thomas. He tells him to save his precious doubts for his prayers, but only after checking the corridor to make sure no one is listening, to make sure no one can use this to destroy his friend. Even when they lash out, even when they misunderstand each other, they still protect each other. Because the reality is, they are both exhausted, both distressed, both making mistakes. And that’s okay.

But this is not one-sided. They are very much equals. Aldo downplays Thomas’s doubts, yes, but Thomas does the exact same thing to Aldo. When Aldo tells Thomas he doesn’t believe he is worthy of being pope, Thomas laughs. He treats it like a joke because to him, Aldo is worthy.

But their friendship will not fall apart because of it.

The most important thing? They recover. Their closeness is neither a flaw nor a weakness. It is terrifying to be fully known by someone, but it is also a profoundly beautiful thing. They don’t doubt each other—they give their votes to each other through it all. They doubt themselves because the other sees too much, unearths too much. Their story is about tension, about recognition, about the pain of seeing and being seen—but ultimately, it is also about growth.

Aldo Bellini actively recognizes his mistakes, apologizes, and takes tangible steps to make things right—all in a single day—to fix the hurt he caused his dearest friend.

Aldo is the one who takes the first step. He is the one who acknowledges his own failings, and in doing so, he gives Thomas the space to admit his own. They were both right about each other. Not just Thomas being right about Aldo—Thomas could have sat with that, could have enjoyed the sense of superiority in the moment. But he doesn’t. Instead, he levels them. Because Aldo was brave. Because Aldo chose to be honest. Because it was unfair to dismiss him as a coward, while Thomas himself holds the truth of his ambition back.

And Aldo? He is genuinely happy when Vincent Benítez is elected. He claps, he stands, he moves on. He doesn’t dwell on the fact that he was the heir presumptive, that his dear late friend beat him in chess one last time. That the late pope was, once again, eight moves ahead. Because he doesn’t mind. He never wanted the papacy out of ambition—only out of necessity. That’s why he positioned himself as a foil to Tedesco’s views, not as a person. So, of course, he is relieved that a man with morals and principles was chosen instead, a person, not a politician.

Read the book. Read the script. Watch the film again.

These men don’t have to sacrifice their friendship just because a “new, better, shinier” person sits in the Vatican now. Because guess what? Vincent Benítez isn’t perfect either. He has struggled with his faith. He has experienced traumas that shaped him. This is a man who has faced warlords, mafias, criminals both petty and powerful. He is no stranger to being stripped of his vestments and forced to exist as nothing but a man. Even he, in the book, the script, the film, does not always act rationally. He throws Aldo’s arrogance about returning to Rome and potentially having to stay right back at him—and honestly, he isn’t wrong, neither is Aldo. Vincent is stubborn. He is not innocent, despite the name he chose. He needs Thomas’s acknowledgment of his anatomy for a reason. He has doubts, too. And doubts are not a bad thing. Just as Aldo seeks Thomas’s approval before taking the chessboard, before opening up, before allowing himself to grieve.

Aldo and Vincent are not foils—they are the same in their love, just as Aldo and Thomas are united in their pain, just as Aldo and Tedesco are the two sides of the same coin in their intellect and ideological strength. They are men. What they do is what sets them apart—and what brings them together.

And if you’re going to tell me that a stupid BuzzFeed quiz calling Aldo Bellini “spineless” months ago is still driving this entire discourse? Then maybe it’s time to admit you never understood him nor the source material in the first place.

zoro unlocking conquerors/supreme king haki while having a flashback about luffy, explaining him as the reason he did so, was insane narratively.

zoro’s devotion is as unquestioned as humans’ need for oxygen, his loyalty is as sure as the need for ground beneath our feet. but to place luffy at the center of even his willpower and ambition, that’s something.

supreme king haki is an unteachable, one in a million power that’s tied with having ‘kingly’ qualities. but zoro doesn’t want to be a leader, he relishes in following. he states, with a picture of luffy in his mind, luffy commenting that he needs no less than the world’s greatest swordsman, that he made a promise. his promise to kuina and luffy is at foundation of his drive.

zoro’s supreme king haki does not stem from the ambition of a king, it comes from wanting to be his king’s very best soldier. he wants to be the greatest, and he wants to be no less than that for luffy. a king, sure, but in the way that a king would answer to a god.

when asked “so you intend to be a king, then?” zoro’s initial instinct was simple, “what?” because that had never even crossed his mind. but he agrees shortly after, with the image of luffy in his mind, “that’s right.” and he became the king of hell, serving a god of the sun.

zoro doesn’t have ambition to conquer, not in the same way luffy does, but he wants to conquer whatever stands in luffy’s way. his ‘kingly’ attributes are accelerated by devotion, like a king would devote his life to his country, his everything. while becoming the world’s greatest swordsman is a convoluted example of a king, sitting atop a throne of symbolic power, i think it’s more accurate to call what zoro unlocked ‘supreme soldier’ haki. ‘conquerors’ haki in the way a marshal would lead an army for his king, and not the king himself. conquering the battlefield as a victory for not only himself, his ambition interconnected with others (those he loves).

i don’t mean to diminish zoro’s ambition, to be the world’s greatest swordsman is a king in itself and that should be recognised. but nothing can detract from the fact that as he unlocked this power, the power of ultimate will, his mind was full of luffy and his smiling face. luffy has always and will always be at the base of zoro’s goal, since the day he met him. becoming the world’s greatest swordsman was no longer solely tied to kuina but now equally his captain, who could have no less than the world’s greatest swordsman.

and what an interesting development we saw happen in front of us. comparatively, the reason for every strawhat’s dream is born from their past, but we witnessed the reason behind zoro’s dream evolve in present time. he no longer strives for kuina alone. he will be a king, because it is what luffy needs as well. he will be the world’s greatest swordsman because he’s got a promise to keep to his captain and his best friend.

a one in a million power, unlocked as a result of a promise. zoro’s devotion is indescribable, his loyalty and his love is quite literally one in a million. if not even rarer as we have never seen an instance of supreme king be activated for someone else. i cannot articulate the beauty of it

Trying something new, would love feedback/comments?

Nightwing belonged to the Graysons and to Haly’s and to the NTT and to Clark! Nightwing is a Kryptonian mantle that Clark gave Dick - to the person Dick Grayson; to a man he’d know since he was a kid, who Clark trusted with his life, with his son’s life. To Clark’s ‘multiverse constant’, who said Clark taught him ‘the meaning of selflessness and heroism’. Who would always love Clark, Clark who grieved Dick’s death even after JokerSuperman  in jest killed his soul, Clark who was overjoyed to discover Dick’s death fakedundone, who hugged Dick after his Ultra-ego hurtkilled him, Clark, who gave love that didn’t hurt to receive. Nightwing belongs to Donna, to Kid Flash, to Roy and Garth, to Lilith and Raven and Victor and Gar and Joey, to a top heavy tower and life amidst budding gods. Nightwing belongs to Kori, to open skies, and freedom heavily sought and fiercely guarded. To Dick Grayson.

Nightwing, God of Rebirth, belonged to the kid who built a life from broken bodies and a strange, cold city, who picked himself up after countless arguments and a door afist slammed in his face, who re-opened the door and blamed himself for noticing the dent. Who smiled when he heard whispered, half awed, half bitter, ‘he will not bend; his will exceeds his reason’ because if his death meant his team would be safe, how could that be anything but good? Nightwing belong to the boy who loved his teamfriendsfamily with everything in him, who scrounged together the last vestiges of himself to hold off the grim reaper while they lay captive in its path. It belonged to the boy who was replaced, who got back to his feet after losing the love of his life to duty and misfortune, who shouldered the blame as easily as he flew.

Nightwing was the man whose other half died for him; who broke, whose friendsfamily scattered to the winds, whose brotherinarms loved him enough to creating a new teamnotfamily. The man who, when the Gods disappeared, lead the Titans to bring them back. Who rose to his feet each time: when his past burned down, and his present exploded for having known him; who fell on a sword meant for another, and tarnished, brought together a corrupt, thankless city only for it to be snatchedexploded at the very last second by a man he considered foereluctantallyfrie-FOE. Who considered giving in, only to be saved by care finally returned. Who found the love in harshness, and saw the love in duty and under a stiffquiveringatthestateofhisgrandsonsoncharge upper lip. Who rose just as the ground disappeared from under him. Who pulled on a cowl hateddreaded, stepping into the hole in the cave; who smiled under a barage of hissed insults from a childbrother? and avoided the friendsbrotherssisters he yearned so dearly for. Who tried not to cry when the hole in his life refilled only to tear wider with brother gone.  Who looked into the mirror, face creased by loved ones lost and lost love, lined with guilt and grief, and saw a straight back, unbowed shoulders and bright eyes.

Nightwing IS Dick Grayson. No one else.

Controversial opinion, but I don't think I like good dad Bruce Wayne.

Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not saying I don't like Bruce being a good dad, but it is hard for me to enjoy it when he's like that all the time. When he suddenly knows how to communicate, or what to do when there's an emotional issue, or that he's now smiling and reassuring his children so easily.

Is just too abrupt after what we've seen so far of him as a parent.

I can't buy this new version of Bruce without any deserved development or previous arc that triggered this drastic change in the way he acts, specially towards his kids. And I get it's usually like an alternative self, and he's always been like that in that kind of universes, but it just feels too easy.

Is like working so hard for something only to be given it without a chance of showing off all the work you've done to get there. Is not fulfilling or satisfying (to me).

And I get the hype, I do, but there's also so much history of the characters that wouldn't have happened had Bruce been truly that great and supportive dad that some portray. It erases too much for me to fully like it.

So, yeah, good dad Bruce I can only enjoy when he's had the proper growth as a character that doesn't erase everything he's done before and instead shows the long journey he had to go through as a person to get to that point.

One of Dick's greatest strengths is his ability to manipulate every single person in existence.

Genuinely I think this makes him the smartest person in the room. Not only is he a brilliant detective, but the fact that he's able to outmaneuver and control virtually everyone including other geniuses and masterminds makes him the most terrifying. There's a reason why his enemies have give up using intelligence against him and simply resorting to brute force.

Now hold your horses before you bring your crowbars and let me explain.

Dick once said, "On an even playing field, I always win."

And it's true. But how do you even the field if your enemies are geniuses, detectives, or metas?

"Well, if you don't like how the table is it, turn over the table."

And that's exactly what Dick does.

Let's begin from his younger years. Dick is 19, newly out of Batman's wing and in no position to take on a skilled mercenary on by himself. But the mercenary isn't going to stop just because he says please. So.

DEATHSTROKE WAS CLEARLY NOT EXPECTING TO GET OUTPLAYED BY A 19 YEAR OLD.

"You're right Slade, he's not a fool so choose a dumber kidnapping victim next time."

Ofcourse this is the least of his abilities.

This cover is perfect because it shows how two of them are literally in a constant game of chess. And evidence of Dick's tactical expertise was never more obvious than the bombing of Bludhaven.

By all means Dick had won.

And he's right. Dick is incredibly intelligent, and he has to be given how he maneuvered the entirety of the world to save him city. Not just the heroes and villains, but everyone - the heroes, the villains, the government, the civilians, the organized crime - everyone. He ruled the freaking world at that moment.

@haroldhighballjordan actually made a post about this that explains this scene so well

But yeah Slade knew he lost so in his petty vengeance what he basically did was set the whole fucking chessboard on fire.

The perfection to which Dick had calculated and moved millions of people to force Slade into abandoning their game and leave him shrieking and seething in rage over his loss. Another reminder that this game only happened because Dick manipulated Rose away from her father, away from his control to a better life.

Spyral is one of my favorite comics because it shows just how good of a manipulator Dick Grayson is.

One of Dick's coldest traits is his ability to manipulate a situation to fit his needs.

In the beginning Dick wanted to calm the meta down and take him in but the second his opponent let out the slightest hint of weakness, look how fast he flips his words. This man is brilliant.

And his planning came to fruition as the meta wore himself out, allowing Dick to take control of the situation and the opponent with no harm to himself-a quick, two second exit. He can manipulate emotions, thoughts, and people to get what he wants like he's playing chess with a child.

But it's not just other people- he can completely change himself to become a whole new person. In the earlier chapters, Dick is learning how to shoot a gun for the agency.

Dick's a terrible shot. Not a single bullet lands in the center of the target-there's no way he's ever going to shoot well....or atleast that's what he wants you to think-

"Yeah, well, that's what spies do."

"We lie."

He's a puppet master and the final boss.

part 2