So Danny is just a bunch of good that takes a humanoid shape, and we've seen him stretch and warp himself. What is sometimes he just leaves bits of himself behind. He has restoration so he can heal himself and others so when he realizes he left a foot behind he just grows a new one.
Batman: We've found more of the meta, 3 left feet all genetically identical, either were dealing with a cloning operation or someone using a regenerative meta as an organ farm. The most recent finds washed up between Gotham and metropolis.
Meanwhile Danny: I've gotta visit Dani more Madrid was beautiful can't wait to show Jazz the photos, tried to land and eats it, Damn it I though I fixed this!
Danny loves his new power- he likes to call it "Play-Boo" as a pun on playdough because it allows him to shift and change his body as he sees fit.
It was hard to mentally change his appearance as his core was tied to his idea of himself. Still, he can make his hair longer at will, shift to a younger or older version of himself, and even slightly change his coloration, though that takes a bit more concentration.
Danny is sadly unable to shape-shift into someone else. He thinks being able to regenerate is an okay trade-off. Especially when Danny accidentally leaves bits of himself behind with his new warping technique.
It's not the kind of warping he would like- seeing as he could only go a few yards from his original spot- but he hopes with time and practice, he will be able to fling himself from one side of the country to the other, much like opening portals.
But unlike the portals, he won't have to step into the ghost zone as a layaway.
One day, he'll be able to think, "Star City!" and bam will be there without having to destabilize his whole body or lose limbs. Or some internal organs. Like his left kidney.
Which was currently somewhere in Gotham as his warping has developed to the point that he can send himself to the area within eyesight, and he had traveled to metropolis in this method instead of flying to try to perfect it.
"Shoot," He grumbles, falling into a booth across from Dani. She had asked that he visit the big city with her, do a few sights, and then the two would fly downstate to check out some national parks.
"Lost something again?" She asks, sipping the soda she had ordered while waiting for him. Dani had been in the city for about three days and had fallen in love with the diner they were eating at.
She insisted they meet up there just so Danny could try some of their roast beef sandwiches. The favorite food of the two siblings.
"My left Kidney." He sighs, patting his side. Thank goodness his Play-Boo allowed him to not feel pain. He hated to have to feel every time he lost one of his body parts. "I need to eat my troubles away until a new one grows back."
"I'm not paying for your meal."
"But Dani! I'm down a kidney!"
She snorts. "It'll grow back by the time we leave, and you know it. But fine, you big baby, I'll pay for lunch. You have to cover the diner."
Satisfied, he lets her call over a waitress who quickly takes their orders and vanishes to the back, where the cook will likely make "the best damn roast beef" for him. He leans back, asking Dani about her travels.
She eagerly starts talking about the local art she has taken pictures of. At one point, her travels had turned into photo albums, documenting everything she saw and experienced.
She made some money this way, selling some of her photos, but mostly, Dani preferred to keep them for herself or the family.
As she talked about the light reflecting on some large News building- the daily planet- and the great lengths she had to go to get close enough to capture the sunlight, the door to the dinner chimed.
Two men in suits ushered in, one wearing a dark blue that seemed far cheaper than the deep black of his companion. Danny instinctively turned towards the sound, but he quickly looked away as the two men found a seat in a booth furthest away from him.
"I met this guy, Jimmy, who promised to have my photos submitted for a junior photographer contest. It's to help promote tourism, so it's based on the "Metropolis' beauty," but first place is five hundred!" Dani eagerly tells him, her eyes sparkling.
"I know you'll win. You'll make a name for yourself in no time as the best photographer of our era." Danny smiles at his little sister. He lowers his voice "Maybe with that money you win we won't have to sell my organs for a while."
She laughs, adding to the joke like it's second nature, "But you're so fun to harvest! Side's it's not like Vlad will allow you to walk away from the operation. He already has two more kidney orders from Gotham waiting for you."
Danny grimces. "I just lost one this morning. Why does he overbook me so much."
"I can do it if you-"
"Not on your life. I can regerate. You can only cry."
Dani kicks him hard in the shin. She waves her coffee spoon at him like a wizard banishing a wand. "Are you calling me a crybaby?"
"Well, I'm not calling you a cry-lady." He laughs as she scoffs. She opens her mouth to say something when her eyes lock with something over his shoulder. Her face closes down at once, hardening into someone who has traveled through the roughest parts of cities and towns.
Danny used to be worried that her instance of traveling alone at such a young age would ruin her childlike wonder and innocence, but he knew it would be worse to keep her at home.
Even with Vlad finally getting the much-needed help, the fact that Dani has existed for two years now didn't mean she was comfortable with being tied down.
Twisting around, he doesn't see anything out of the ordinary. The two men are casually eating their meals by the far window- too far for them to hear, the waitress is sitting behind the counter flipping through a magazine, and the chef can be seen through a little window making something at his gril.
What had alarmed Dani so much?
"We have to go," She hisses in ghost speech, eyes never leaving the man in the blue suit. Was it him? He seems to unthreatening with his big bulky glasses and easy smile. "I don't know why, but I don't like that guy's vibe."
Well, he won't argue with her about her gut feelings. Those were never important to ignore. "Let's take the rest of this to go."
She raises her hand, calling over the waitress, flipping open her wallet to leave enough to cover their bill and leave a generous tip. Danny quickly gathers their food in take-home boxes, keeping his body in front of Dani to block the men's view of her.
He's grateful that he had pulled on his hood, as his ears had gotten cold from the warping. With the fact he never turned around once since they walked in and his trusty hood, his face has been kept hidden from the men.
A small victory.
Hopefully, he won't see them again after this.
"Come on." He tells Dani, as she quickly gathers her stuff. "Vlad is going to have my arms and legs if we late meet him. I don't want to be just a torso again."
"I mean, it's your fault for trying to run away." She sighs. "You know how he gets. At least you didn't have to entertain his guests."
"Yeah laying in a dark room hoping to regrow my limbs is much better than letting those freaks touch me." Danny agrees thinking back to the big gala Vlad had invited them to.
To show goodwill and try to move past their hostility, the Fentons' children- Jazz, Dan, Danny, and Dani- had all agreed to go with him, under the condition that they be on their best behavior.
Danny had been running late due to a ghost attack and had chosen to use his wrapping far past the agreed limitation his parents, and Vlad had set for him.
He got to Vlad's castle but none of his limbs had followed him. Mom had been so outraged by his reckless behavior he's been grounded staying in one of the guest rooms without tv to "think about what could have happened!"
Dad and Vlad had merely nodded to their wife's punishment for their child. (And he was still getting used to the idea of Vlad being married to his parents.)
Jazz, Dan, and Dani were left to the gala, where Jazz had intellectual conversations with college professors Vlad was funding or where Dan was talking up some pretty men and women with a drink in hand, Dani as the youngest was left to affluent old ladies pinching her cheeks and giving her backhand compliments on being a "lady."
The Dannies hated being touched by strangers, and those higher-class old ladies had no concept of personal space.
"Don't worry, I'm almost too old soon." Dani chirps, holding the door open for him. "Soon Vlad will have to find other kids to flaunt in front of rich people."
"That would be the day." The two exit the dinner, switching the conversation to the idea of dessert- deciding to search on their phones a local frozen yogurt place.
Neither notice the two men- one whose fork has crumbled in his grip and another who is clicking away on his phone with a look of outer disgust on his face
"Bruce?"
"I'm already messaging Babs. She's following them with the city cameras as we speak. Don't worry, Clark, this "Vlad" isn't going to get away with it."
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Another reason I dislike Les Mis adaptations that make Jean Valjean constantly openly angry/violent is because they miss that Jean Valjean is not allowed to be angry. The fact he is forbidden from expressing anger is, I argue, actually a very important part of his character in the novel!
One of the subtler political messages of the story is that some people are given freedom to express anger, while others are forced to be excessively meek and conciliatory in order to survive.
Wealthy conservatives like Monsieur Gillenormand can “fly into rages” every five minutes and have it treated as an endearing quirk. Poor characters like Fantine or Jean Valjean must be constantly polite and ingratiating to “their superiors” at all times, even in the face of mockery and violence, or else they will be subjected to punishment. If Gillenormand beats his child with a stick, it’s a silly quirk; if Fantine beats a man harassing her, she is sentenced to months in prison.
(Thenardier and Javert are interesting examples of this too. Thenardier acts superficially polite and ingratiating to his wealthy “superiors” while insulting them behind their backs. Javert, meanwhile, is completely earnest in his mindless bootlicking. But I could write an entire other post on this.)
The point is that….Jean Valjean has to be submissive and self-effacing, or he puts himself in danger. He can’t afford to be angry and make scenes, or he will be punished. The only barrier between himself and prison is his ability to be so “courteous” that no one bothers to pry into his past.
Jean Valjean is excessively polite to people, in the way that you’re excessively polite to an armed cop who pulls you over for speeding when you secretly have a few illegal grams of marijuana in the your car trunk. XD It’s politeness built on fear, is what I mean. It’s politeness built on a desperation to make a powerful person avoid looking too closely at you.
It’s politeness at gunpoint.
Jean Valjean has also spent nineteen years living in an environment where any expression of anger could be punished with severe violence. That trauma is reflected in the overly cautious reserved way he often speaks with people (even people who are kind and would never actually hurt him.)
So adaptations that have Jean Valjean boldly having shouting matches with people in public and beating cops half to death without worrying about the repercussions just make go like “???”
Because that’s part of what’s fascinating about Jean Valjean to me? On one hand, he is a genuinely kind compassionate person, who cares deeply about other people and behaves kindly out of altruism. But on the other hand, he was also “beaten into submission” by prison, and forced into adopting conciliatory bootlicking behaviors in order to survive. And it can sometimes be hard to tell when he is being kind vs. when he is being “polite” — when he is speaking and acting out of earnest compassion vs. when he is speaking and acting out of fear.
The TL;DR is that I think it’s important that even though Jean Valjean is very (justifiably) angry about the injustice that was inflicted on him, his anger is harshly policed at all times— by other people, and by himself. He has been told his anger is wrong/selfish so often that he believes it. His anger takes weirder more unhealthy forms because he has no safe outlet for it. His rage at society becomes a possessiveness towards Cosette and silent hatred of Marius, but primarily it becomes useless self-destructive constant hatred of himself. And while I might be phrasing this wrong, I think that’s what’s interesting about Jean Valjean’s relationship with anger— the way his justified fury at his own mistreatment gets warped into more and more unhealthy forms by the way he’s forced to constantly repress it.
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