#are hiding things

[bafflement]

Deaged Oz AU - Rumors Out Of Atlas

Have the next Tipverse bit, set just after that news article... the one where Ironwood slipped up. He's not that good at handling the media in this, and it comes back to bite him a little bit. Warning, Vale's council, or at least certain members thereof, are really not very nice.

"Did you hear the news? Apparently they found one of the kidnap victims..." The man saying that sounded strangely amused, a doubting light in his eye. But then, there were always rumors out of the other kingdoms, and with Atlas on lockdown, that meant that anything they heard was likely to be highly spurious, at best.

"... what kidnap victims?" his companion asked, sounding curious. But then they were quite a lot younger than the other man, and neither of them were in Atlas at the moment, it stood to reason that he wouldn’t know the story. Kidnapping happened all the time, and Oak had the sinking impression that he hadn’t actually specified the kidnapping victims in question.

It was hard sometimes, though, to remember that those of his friends that hadn’t actually grown up in Atlas were far less likely to have heard of it. Everybody there knew about the snatched children, it had been far too public to be hidden after the first few vanished. It had quickly gotten far too high profile to keep much of a lid on, anyway. Some of those snatched… well…

“The kidnap victims. You know, the ones out of Atlas? The Winchester girl, that Arc brat… one of the Schnees?”

“One of the Schnees was kidnapped?” They sounded genuinely confused and slightly hurt by the look of disgust Oak shot them at the question. Oak was a big enough person to acknowledge that he wasn’t really being fair to them, but he wasn’t in the mood to try to explain. He’d known one of the victims, at least slightly. They’d been something along the lines of a friend of a friend… maybe with a few other friends in between, but it wasn’t like he had absolutely no connection to the case! Not like some people. If he concentrated, he could almost remember their face…

“Not one of the current ones. Look, look it up, would ya? I don’t have time to explain.” Oak stood up, gulping down the other half of his whiskey in one. His slight wince was the only sign that he’d noticed the burn, but he needed to be somewhere else. Maybe finding a few of his older friends would make sense right now? They might be more understanding than these young puppies were. He didn’t miss Atlas, not really… but it was so hard to judge just what people in Mistral would really care about. He couldn’t be the only one, but he’d been expecting to hear more about it by now. If it was even real, with Atlas, you could never really tell…

The dark skinned woman scoffed to herself as she leant on a wall, listening. It was always interesting just how much gossip could be learned, if only you listened for it. But then, Headmaster Theodore had been strangely careless as to his reaction to this particular piece of news. That it had come to him meant that it was more than likely actually legitimate, but she couldn’t really work out just what was so important about finding a kidnap victim. She was only just old enough to remember the news of the ring when it had broken originally, but surely the fact that it had taken them a quarter of a century to find whoever this was meant that nobody was really looking too hard? She’d been to Atlas before, she knew just how meticulous they were about identifying visitors. Especially right now, with whatever bee had gotten into Ironwood’s bonnet. But then, what had happened to Beacon had probably shaken him, it had shaken most of them. She’d actually liked Ozpin, why couldn’t it have been Ironwood that had died? Nobody would really miss him…

That was probably a bit mean of her, but nobody she knew could really stand the man at the best of times, and whatever was happening in Atlas right now was certainly not that. There had been a few defectors, and the tales they told of just how strict things had gotten? Well, they were welcome here in Vacuo. Anybody fleeing what was starting to sound more like a regime than a kingdom always was.

She wondered if that was why Theo had locked himself away in his office for a few days, or if there were other reasons. It could well just be coincidence, or even something else Ironwood had done that had annoyed him, it was never that easy to tell. It still surprised her at times, that nobody had killed Ironwood yet, but that was out of her hands. Vacuo was too far from Atlas to sent an assassin, and besides, Theo would be terribly disappointed in them if that was to happen.

It wasn’t really that important right now anyway, she mused, listening to the students talk. They’d already changed the subject, not that she could really blame them. If it was long ago to her, what must it be to them? Their parents might have cared more, but then again, probably not. Especially since one of those snatched had been a Schnee… not Jacques’ kid, though. At least she didn’t think that hey had been? Eh, probably didn’t really matter. Hopefully, whoever they’d found might still have a family waiting for them.

She sighed again and stalked off towards her classroom. Rumors or not, these lessons weren’t going to teach themselves.

There were a few members of Vale’s council that were rather less than impressed when the news broke that Atlas had recovered one of the kidnapping victims. It had been so long ago that most of them merely felt happy for them, almost hopeful. Kidnapping wasn’t exactly an Atlas only problem, and all four kingdoms had lost people over the years. The hope in all bar three of their member’s faces seemed to blind them to the turmoil brewing in the exceptions.

All three were old guard, had been on the council for at least thirty years. Had worked hard to make themselves so indispensable that it would have been unthinkable to replace them. Had been voted in, time after time, on the loyalty of those they catered to. Had hoped, independently of each other, that Atlas might have forgotten the lost children.

That Atlas had supposedly found one lit no warm fires in any of their hearts, especially with the heavy implication that it was one of the Atlas four. While none of them much cared if they had located Reuben Arc or Liliana Ironwood, the same couldn’t be said for the other two. It was vaguely possible that a lot of their control had slipped through their fingers when Beacon fell. Nobody had actually found Ozpin’s body  and while none of them ever spoke of it, they all knew who he had once been.

Wren Winchester was also a possibility, but they rather thought she would have reacted by now, made her displeasure known if nothing else. It was so galling, to have to pay her all the money they hadn’t paid Ozpin over the years. They’d gotten so used to padding their pockets, knowing that he was too cowed to really complain about their treatment of him. They’d raised him, shaped him… surely nobody would begrudge them profiting from it?

But now, now Atlas knew… something. They weren’t really certain what that something was, but things were changing. They just hoped it really was Reuben Arc, he would be far easier dealt with than Ozpin would.

If he was alive. If Atlas had somehow found out about at least part of the deception. If. There was no way to know, though. Reaching out to the other kingdom would be highly suspicious at best, tantamount to an admittance at worst. All of them had seen the mess that battle had made of Beacon though. If Ozpin lived, surely he’d be injured, unable to hide?

No, they couldn’t have actually found Winter Schnee… surely they’d know by now?

[crabussy]

slightly furious reminder that fish do in fact feel pain and do in fact experience fear and distress when in pain since people seem to love spreading the myth that fish don't feel pain. what is it with people assuming a creature is incapable of feeling pain or emotion just because it doesn't have complex facial muscles. come on gang

[marypsue]

One of the worst feelings in the world: when you are just desperate, like claw-your-own-skin-off desperate, to create, but the only thing that even vaguely appeals to you to work on is a nebulous half-feeling that might be dreamily related to some half-formed notion of a concept. I must! Make! No thing! Only make!

[thisdudedoesntexist]

I had a fic idea but don't know where to go with it, so if you want to expand on anything feel free.

So, Danny's finally an adult who's off to college at Gotham (the STEM there is crazy for how many supervillains have doctorates). Since Vlad actually took the time to heal and grow past his issues and turned into the crazy Bi uncle he was supposed to be, Danny's got his college paid for.

In the form of $50,000 and an kinda ok motel near the upper west side.

He tried asking his former nemesis why he's done this but Vlad just told him it's so he has some "pocket change and experience".

Danny's been spending the past few weeks aceing his his STEM middling at literature and upgrading the motel into something actually decent.

His business seem to be attracting the strangest living too. That's saying something since he's got ghostly and living guests. Danny knew this place was cursed but still feels surprised every time they show up.

1st: A nice lesbian couple came on the first night cause one with green-ish skin named Pam according to the pale lady named Harley felt the vegetation get really excited when he came. He had about an hour of questioning on Ectology and who Undergrowth was.

2nd: A 10ft tall crocodile man named Waylon came in cause of Harley's recommendation, he looked like he'd run any moment. That night he made sure his staff wouldn't mistreat people like him and by the time croc left there was a glowing sign by the door about how different guests are to be treated with respect no matter how they look.

3rd: THE Red hood showed up asking about a kid who worked there. Her name's Zoe and when her parents reaction to their kid being trans was to kick her out of the house at 17. She biked to the motel to get some rest before catching the bus out of Gotham, got a job checking people in instead and has since found an actual family with the help of Amorpho a social worker Danny met a few years ago.

4th: the most recent event was when Gotham's play boy prince and his cousin Kate Kane stumbled in during his shift at the front desk. Mr. Wayne was pretending extremely well to be drunk while his cousin was wrangling him awkwardly. If Danny didn't have super senses he wouldn't have noticed he was acting, or the tracker added to his cuff when he was semi-forced to shake "Bruce, just Bruce. Everyone's always so stiff." Hand. The tracker had little legs and crawled under his shirt, creepy and fascinating.

[akanemnon]

So THAT'S how they did it! I'm sure that will have no major implications at AAAAALLLLLL...

FIRST - PREVIOUS - NEXT

MASTERPOST (for the full series / FAQ / reference sheets)

[westerberg]

Okay and I’m gonna totally sound like my mom for a second here but it’s interesting that soooooooo many women in entertainment have careers based on “embracing their sexuality” but the vast majority of men in entertainment base their careers on like … being people…. and like maybe there’s a reason most men don’t seem to find going on stage in underwear “empowering”…? Bc it’s not…?

[sunsestart]

Did this super fast yesterday cause I needed to get the idea out my head

I miss him

Papyrus is many thing but he's not quiet...

[stealingpotatoes]

Like... Do people realise JynCassian isn't explicitly canon? They're not romantically involved directly in the movie. It's fine to love a non-canon ship, people! The existence of the BixCassian baby doesn't take away from it!

and hONESTLY I THINK IT CAN MAKE REBELCAPTAIN MORE INTERESTING. BIX AND CASSIAN WEREN'T EVEN TALKING BY ROGUE ONE AND CO-PARENTING IS A THING. WHY ARE WE SHYING AWAY FROM THIS IT COULD BE SO FUN

(commission info // tip jar!)

[chiangyorange]

the chain but on a scale of who says hooray yippee and wahoo

is this anything.

[cryptidmickle]

looking like i will be making that comic of my purefount idea, so im trying to get a handle on my fount design!

[sunnyrmrez]

The skeleton fam to me

[adobe-outdesign]

I want all non-Neopets players to know that the latest site news is that the Neo-Super Bowl got cancelled because everyone became too depressed to play

[demaparbat-hp]

Here I am, pushing the Jian Li (Akai Kotou! Zuko) = Jinshi (The Apothecary Diaries) agenda.

[willosword]

Fake, facsimile, forgery.

[inkskinned]

you know, you know. no gods, no masters, no kings on pedestals. everyone is fallible. death of the author. you know! you are balanced about your intake of media - you allow the wiggle room, the grace, the gratitude, the skepticism. nobody above criticism.

but still. a weird gut-punch feeling, something akin to betrayal. you read the article. surprise! an author you love is actually: a serial fucking predator.

well, shit. what now. no, you knew he was a person (all people are), but now you're wondering - what have i overlooked by accident? what messages have i internalized that are strange and cruel? and also, like, what the fuck?

his actions lay a thick glaze on top of everything. like each place is now ruined, opaque in a new way. but okay, fine, you've done this before. you knew better, right? you've been betrayed by many a cherished childhood author.

still, this stickiness. fuck. can you pick up that book again. will you read it to your children. you've recommended it to others - will you ever do that again? and of course, of course, no parasocial relationships. you were theoretically above this kind of sentiment. but the artist informs the art, right.

so it's not something as clear-cut as feeling he owed you, specifically (a stranger) better behavior - just that you kind of, in a distant and odd way... sort of trusted him to do better. it's not like a real trust or something speakable, just the faint hope that the product (good books) was a thin representation of the soul. now it feels like the product (good? books?) was a mask. in some small or insignificant way, your previous support of this person lent them power. your money and your time and your laughter.

and the thing is - you have this terrible, echoing sensation. how many times will this happen? over and over. you find out that the singer you love is actually a predator. you learn over drinks that your favorite high school english teacher is in jail for what he did to her. you listen to the news idly and suddenly discover that a woman you used to idolize has been abusing her kids for an actual eon.

what can you touch without the static melting off. you can't even really complain about it too much (you were supposed to know better, and besides, you don't want the same re-split "it's not your fault, love what you love" basic advice), but now it's here. somehow, it feels like - you let him into your life.

it's not that things need to be pure or an artist has to be like, endlessly perfect, mindful. demure. it's more just this terrible truth that has been replayed through your veins so often it feels criminally vain. power corrupts, absolute power corrupts absolutely. did you want any one person to be worth that power?

it's just that he wrote books where he seemed to understand that. he seemed to know about hierarchies and unfair systems and bigotry and privilege. you thought they were books about what it means to struggle. you thought they were about having power and still using it for good rather than for control. he spooned you a narrative of being a good guy, a kind soul. you fucking bought what that fucking monster sold.

maybe that's why they were fantasies, after all.

[feelingtheaster99]

It is completely in character for Percy to say he has some dumb questions, then ask incredibly valid questions that no one has brought up till now