#Bruce is internally have Inc. the time of his life

[iguessthisisanewobsession]

Bruce Wayne Says ‘Never Too Old For Uppies’

Darling billionaire and former Gotham heartthrob turn DILF Bruce Wayne was spotted at his latest Gala wearing the latest season’s top designer suit.

This is of its self wasn’t surprising but the scene that unfolded sure was!

Now it isn’t a surprise for anyone who has been keeping track of the posts and polls about the most attractive men in America that Mr. Winner of 3 years in a row is quite ripped under all those layers he usually wears and when asked why he exercises to such a degree that it could rival the big bat, Mr. Wayne seemed to fumble for a bit before responding with a dazzling smile that he does so that he could carry all of his children.

Another reporter made comment about how all of his children were well past the age of being picked up.

Mr. Wayne proceed to state quite seriously to the reporter,

“They’re never too old for uppies.”

Apparently Mr. Wayne’s two eldest sons had heard their father’s statement as they shared a look before taking a running leap towards their dad with Dick Grayson Wayne bellowing “uppies!” In response.

Mr. Wayne, despite his well known clumsiness, caught both of his sons with a spin before calmly stating to the reporters that he had guests to talk to and then walked away with one boy sitting on each hip.

And let us remind our readers that neither men Mr. Wayne caught weigh less than an estimated 170 lbs!

The rest of the gala had our reporters spotting Mr. Wayne carrying his various children in various ways.

Message was well received, Kids are never too old for uppies, just too heavy!

But nothing less can be expected from the dad of the year.

Though, he may have competition here in Gotham, as eye witnesses have stated that they had seen our own Big Bat taking after our resident rich man.

But who can say? Maybe the two have a closer relationship than we know.

It had been stated that both Bruce Wayne and Batman have a similar physique to each-other with Batman being just slightly larger in size.

Maybe they share a workout routine?

We can only speculate.

What we can be sure of, is that Bruce loves his kids and would be willing to do anything to make them smile.

As always I am Vicky Vale.

*there are two photos shown along with the article. One of Bruce Wayne carting a staggering number of his children. With Cassandra and Damian Wayne on his shoulders, Dick Grayson Wayne and Jason Todd under each arm and Tim Drake Wayne clinging onto his front like a koala. It is noted that Duke Thomas is to the side seemingly recording the entire scene.

The second photo is of Batman with an annoyed Red Hood slung over his shoulder, trying to get loose.”

[heypapipromotions]

Who is Shawn Papi?

Shawn Papi was local celebrity club promoter and now is a Christian promoter sharing the gospel with Christian faith-based events and church services around the world. He is a connector, servant, promoter, evangelist, and Brother in Christ. These are just a few words that describe Shawn Hay also known as Shawn Papi, founder of the Hey Papi Promotions Network.

With over 15 years of experience in promoting events and participating in community service activities all over the country and experience traveling all over the world, Shawn has made many relationships and is a great connector of people.

Since 1994, Shawn has been well known for promoting nightclubs, college parties, community activities, and celebrity rapper events. During this time Shawn became one of the top promoters in the Maryland, Virginia, and Washington, DC metropolitan area.

On New Year's Eve 1999, Shawn heard his calling from the Lord to give up the secular promotions and to use his God-given gift to spread the Gospel through promotions and entertainment serving God.

Within a short period of time, Shawn established a Christian Marketing & Advertising Agency called Hey Papi Promotions®. He decided to keep his old secular name Hey Papi Promotions because he wanted it to be a testimony to show others that they can change from a worldly lifestyle to one that praises Jesus Christ.

In 2008, he established the Hey Papi Promotions Network, a Christian, faith-based social media network website that now has registered members all over the world. The Hey Papi Promotions Network was created to keep people updated on Christian, faith-based events and community service activities across the world. The Hey Papi Promotions Network is centered around a community of professional people that are Pastors, Ministers, Entrepreneurs, Promoters, Gospel Artists, and Media.

In addition to his entrepreneurial endeavors, he has received many community service accolades including being awarded the Radio One 93.9 WKYS Young African American Top 30 Under 30 of Washington DC-Maryland-Virginia, nominated for top 100 Minority Business Enterprise, International Worship Center Partner of the Year, MARY Magazine Man of The Month Award, a celebrity guest judge for Sheila Stewart's Annual High School Gospel Choir Competition, Kenmoor Middle School Career Day Outstanding Performance & Dedication Award and The Sasha Bruce Youthwork's College Tour Info Night in conjunction with Phi Beta Sigma Fraternity, Inc., Certificate of Appreciation, the City of District Heights Mayoral Citation for outstanding service with the first Miss District Heights Pageant, and most recently received the Certificate of Special Recognition Award by United States Senator Benjamin L. Cardin for participation with the Prince George's County Drug Policy, Incorporated 8th Annual Empowering Future Leaders Scholarship Breakfast 2019.

He has promoted and sponsored major events such as the Red Zone National Men's Conference, Mid-Atlantic Jazz Festival Gospel Matinee featuring Kirk Whalum & Kim Burrell, Praize In The City, Richard Smallwood Life Time Achievement Awards, St. Jude Hospital Fundraiser Radiothon, First Baptist Church of Glenarden & Greater Mt. Calvary Holy Church New Years Revival, Stellar Awards, World Wide Community Church Childhood Obesity Health Fair, The Jokes Jams & Jesus Tour, The Together 2016 & 2018, The JAA Foundation's Empowerment Brunch with Vivica A. Fox and most recently the GMA Dove Awards.

Shawn Hay is dedicated to uplifting and bringing out the best in others, so that they may go out into the world as beacons of light and hope through Jesus Christ.

Shawn can be booked for speaking engagements, consulting, community service, and mentoring, etc.

"It is not about how many followers you have but how many lost souls you bring to Christ!" - Shawn Papi

To read more about Shawn Papi, please visit the website at https://heypapipromotions.com/founder

[hbhughes]

Jonathan Lacey Whipple

Jonathan Lacey Whipple, 37, son of Karen and the late John Whipple, passed peacefully at his home in St. Petersburg, Florida on March 16, 2023. He was born on April 1, 1985 in Leesburg, VA. Formerly a resident of Swoyersville and a 2003 graduate of Wyoming Valley West High School, Jon had an inquisitive mind and developed many passions in life. From a young age he nurtured a love of sciences, developing a keen interest in astronomy and atmospheric weather phenomenon, and a profound respect for history. Following the path of his interest in the past, Jon became an enthusiastic member of the Civil Air Patrol and developed an avid interest in World War II history and memorabilia. One of his favorite pastimes was listening to stories of the war from his grandfathers and a neighbor who served in the Army in Korea.

However, his first true love was music. Jon was known to most for his passionate exploration of all things relating to music. He loved all forms and styles from Jazz to Ska, Classical to Motown, Oldies to Punk, and introduced everyone who knew him to a style they would have never experienced without him. He was one of those rare individuals who could pick up any instrument and, in a short time, be able to play them; and play them he did – saxophone, baritone saxophone, trombone, acoustic guitar, electric guitar, piano, and organ. As he became proficient in instruments, he also branched out into composing and audio engineering, a pastime that remained a constant in his life.

After graduation, Jon became interested in the culinary arts. As with his other interests, he gave it his all. He worked in several local restaurants as a sous chef, honing his skills, but when the opportunity arose, he moved to Florida to attend the International Academy of Design and Technology which he graduated from in 2011 with a degree in Music Production. He refurbished a 1985 Volkswagen “hippie van,” and set off to establish his new life in the south with his constant companion of 17-years, Nola, a Carolina dog. He spent his recent years traveling and hiking with Nola and friends sharing his dedication and passion with a new community.

Although his time with us was not long enough, Jon’s greatest legacy lies in the way he made people feel. He was a man who loved to learn, and found joy in sharing that knowledge with others, and people often found themselves better off for having known him. His friendships were legendary, with many remaining rock-solid for over 25 years. His big heart made him the most fun person to be with in any room and he will be missed by all those friends and family who were lucky enough to have known him.

Jon loved many people in his life and will be sorely missed by all: his mother Karen, sisters Samantha Whipple and Genel Whipple Depuysselier, her husband Pete and children Dillion, Denise, Ryan, Mary, and Zack; partner Erin Peterson; daughter Chrystine Locascio, and son Julian Whipple. He is wished a peaceful rest by his aunts, uncles, and cousins: Tom and Pauline Whipple; Sue and Ken Hopkins, Josh and Kerie Hopkins and their children Dean and Eliza; Sarah Hopkins; Alan Shiplett and his son Alan Shiplett Jr; Bruce Shiplett; Tim and Tracey Shiplett and their children Emily, Lauren, and Matthew; Jennifer and Eric Murphy and their children Mia and Collin, Jake Honoosic. Jon now joins his father John Whipple, paternal grandparents Lester and Genevieve Whipple, maternal grandparents Herman and Joyce Shiplett, Uncle Steve Shiplett, and his beloved Nola. Rest in Peace, gentle soul – your journey is complete.

Family and friends are invited on Saturday, April 15th from 12:30 to 2 PM at Church of Christ Uniting, 190 S. Sprague Ave., Kingston, PA 18704. Memorial service will start at 2 PM, with Rev. Jane Pykus, officiating. Funeral arrangements are entrusted to Hugh B. Hughes & Son, Inc. Funeral Home, Forty Fort.

In lieu of flowers, memorial donations may be made to SavetheMusic.org, SavingCarolinaDogs.com, RailstoTrails.org, or a charity of your choice.

[lifeexperience]

Maribat March 2021 - Half time

In my AO3 account I am also updating the 'A playboy billionaire, an ambassador and the secret love-child' title, and sometimes I add(ed) commentary why I write something the way I do.

Masterlist

From the last fifty days here is all the plus note:

First day

In Red Robin (2009-2011) comics Vicki Vale was a little bit too noisy for her own good, that's why I used her personal annoyance against Bruce Wayne in this story.

Third day

Vanessa Rios was an assistant district attorney in Gotham in the Robin (1993-2009) run. Here I am using her as the Wayne's legal team head. Tamara Fox, Lucius Fox's daughter, is friends with Tim Drake in Red Robin (2009-2011) comics and here too. Also she is an intern with the HR department who knows about the BatFam alteregos.

Fifth day

In the comics, Alfred always followed Bruce to his 'trips' (in 'Batman and Son' to London, 'Batman & Robin Annual' to an scavenger hunt, in 'Batman Inc.' to every country where they found representatives...) However because of Damian's unpredictable behaviour he stayed at the manor with the children in this story.

Sixth day

So Young Justice thing is a little complicated to me if I dare to say something about it. There was the 'Young Justice: The Secret' and its sequels. Then there were 'The New52' and 'DC Rebirth' era, plus the animation show. And they all are kind of okay..ish, furthermore I wanted to keep the principles like the main members (Tim Drake, Connor Kent, Bart Allen and Cassie Sandsmark), however I never liked their too childish behavior in some of the works (and the mixing with 'The Titans). So in this story, here, they are more adult..ish, but more relaxed and cheerful than 'The Titans' ever was (like in comics, not in the shows).

Eighth day

In the 'Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir' show they showed Lila as a manipulator without any remorse, which got me to think she has antisocial personality disorder (ASPD). I am not a doctor but I had some basic lesson in psychology, and I have a natural curiosity about things so I always research everything. With diagnosed ASPD the person has to be older then 18, however I read its symptoms can show up in childhood, and it can lead to an earlier diagnosis like 14-15 years old early.

In the case of Lila she deceives people and uses them (✓). Don't makes long term plans or thinking through about her behavior (✓), however has a set on some goal she wants to achieve (✓). She has a sense of superiority above of her classmates and adults in her environment (✓), nevertheless does't have any remorse or guilt to mistreat them (✓). Uses charisma and her fake charming persona to get something or someone (✓), however didn't value them more than tools or prizes (✓).

I didn't see any real aggressive behavior from Lila beside akumatizations (✓), but on its own I think it's enough evidence, that she has this disorder (and not the many that she claimed). In normal aggressive way Lila didn't show herself (like physical violence, loud angry outbursts, big fits in front of everyone) yet, rather she uses Akumatization to hide that kind of behavior (when Adrien tried to stand up she became willingly Chameleon, or the Heroe's Day, or Oni-Chan). So her Akumatised forms and helping to Hawkmoth are the evidences that she has aggressive behavior, however they are not the classic forms (but we also can remember the threatening in the bathroom, but I think that was more intimidation and showing her superiority then pure aggressiveness).

And I wanted that recreate and strengthen this 'fact' a little bit so it would be more obvious than in the show.

Ninth day

In the comics there are so many take on Bruce Wayne it's kind of hard to count it. We could list the Batman persona, when he kind of let his children do what they want within his no-kill-rule (like living alone at fourteen with bunch of other teenager - 'Teen Titans' or 'Young Justice' or as it looks like to go rough - Robin, Red Hood). And there is the obvious martyr-parent take, when he has to know everything about his children, but he is always silent about the important things ('Death of the family' - 'Batman and Robin: Born to kill' - 'The Hunt for Robin'). And one of my favorites the worried-tired father take, when he is kind of showing his emotions and trying to love his kids ('Super Sons' - 'Robin Rises' - 'Prelude to the Wedding: Nightwing vs. Hush' ...).

And I decided to use the last with a more active take from the first (like he lets everyone do their thing but he is monitoring them within reasons). In the comics there are many accusations about being someones father (with Julie Madison or Mariah Shelley), and here in my take he is trying to be responsible (for the sake of his children, mainly for Damian and Jason) and checks every claim out personally (so they also can do DNS test).

Tenth day

Alya Césaire is a complicated someone in the show. At first she is portrayed as a fierce helper for the protagonist, Marinette. She is stubborn and reckless, but royal to her best friends.

Then came Lila and the makers sharpened her stubborn tunnel vision. This I saw it first at the 'Lady Wifi' episode, when she clearly didn't remember about the first day, when Ladybug saved Chloé (or ignored it). After that she always fixated on 'Adrienette' (or everything else if it's interesting - Dark Cupid) when the girl, herself had other things to do (Princess Fragrance, Puppeteer 2, Reflektdoll 2, Timebreaker). So it was not that big surprise when her tunnel vision turned to Lila, and she (and everybody in her class) forgot about that they all met Jagged Stone and with his crocodile already.

Yeah, it's all true, however unlike Lila, Alya didn't show any other big social flaw. And she is 14 years old and middle child, which is kind of important in someone personality. She has to be a mature figure and a little child at the same time in her sibling's eyes. She has to compete attention in their parents eyes and be smart about it.

Moreover if we look at the Collège Françoise Dupont's students, they are all spoiled, not just Chloé or Lila or Adrien. Yes, they are not that bad like the three, but they are all sheltered to a certain degree. Their family don't have financial problems (famous chef, designers, mayor, famous bakery, curator in the most famous museum, police officer, famous pantomime, ...), plus they are all in a prestigious school where they can't meet people with everyday problems (and rich spoiled kid is not an everyday occurrence in my country). And beside some vision problems (Max, Sabrina) they are all healthy and the first time to meet a disability is when Lila arrived. So it's natural if they don't really know how to interact right with her (putting aside that whole lie thing).

And I think they, especial Alya, need first a little life experience, before they could be called responsible about their acts. And here I am trying to write it this kind of way, where they are all flawed, but they can learn from it.

Human being can be shallow and not perfect. These children only heard one perspective from Lila, and another from Marinette. In the show the makers not exactly specified about how well the classmates know Marinette and how depth Marinette and Alya friendship is, so there is already some trust issue.

Like yeah all of they are going to concerts, cinema, each others, however they didn't show so far any serious conservation between them (maybe the only exception is Adrien-Marinette combo). Until this year when Adrien and Alya got transferred in the class, the classmates don't even help Marinette with Chloé bullying. And one year friendship - how beautiful is it tho - is not that depth and stable, especially with that many secrets they have. And Lila 'charming' personality came into this still fragile relationship at the right time to prove this.

I am not saying that the makers is doing good to simplifies the relationships. Because rather they missed so many ziccers for the sake of promote new hero designs and the overwritten romantic scene, it's physical hurting me. But they are right that we are talking sheltered-traumatized-too naive kids, who sometimes had unearned magic powers (looking at Chloé, Alya, Kim).

And I didn't ever going the length of mentioning the adult characters. It's an other kind of wormhole.

Marinette was the only one who openly disobeyed Lila's wants. She stands up against her lies in the public so she is a real obstacle for Lila. While Adrien is only trying in the background without any witness (I don't say it's bad, because with some case it's better, but not here), and the boy is too valuable to Lila.

Lila already showed in the series she didn't stop with the lies and she is brave enough to ruin someone carrier with them (Marinette - 'Ladybug', Nathalie and Gorilla - 'Oni-Chan', Alya - 'Volpina'). And Adrien watched all of it in the front seat, and he kind of knows that Lila's main target here to discredit and broke Marinette/Ladybug (and Adrien, himself also, but it's his perspective and he is very sheltered and naive about it).

And this story she got another one to ruin. Bruce Wayne, himself. And as her fake charming side melts away in her anger as she is focusing more and more on her targets.

Eleventh day

Speed Force is one of the Seven Forces of the Universe. It grants the power of the speedsters. And some of them merged with it (for example Barry Allen). Speed Force has a direct connection to the time flow and with the Multiverse (or now Omniverse). The biggest event of it is the Flashpoint (2011) which started the New52 era. And Batman doesn't want to mix this kind of force with a really mysterious ancient magic.

Nightrunner's first appearance was in 2011 in Detective Comics Annual #12. Within the Batman Incorporated line Bruce recruited Bilal Asselah, French-Algerian citizen to represent Batman in Paris. Here he is a mentor/background assistant to the Team Miraculous and a representative of Batman Inc.

Fourteenth day

Wang Fu is not the most mature character in the show and I think it says it all. Being an 186 years old is the Great Guardian after he accidentally destroyed the temple, he is kind of shameful and amateur. And if we contrasted him with Batman... yeah. Batman is NOT happy and takes the control from the old master.

Fifteenth day

I know Cyborg, alias Victor Stone is currently shown as a founding member of the Justice League (since 2011), however I am prefer him more in the Titans. And it's not just because of the animation show form 2003, but also in the comics he is more himself with the first Titans then with the -all mighty- Justice League. And I also wanted him to have a little cameo in this story because in the Super Sons (2017-) he was kind of like a babysitter for the boys. And to me it's kind of funny how many times the bats short circuited him (Robin Rises, Super Sons: Parent Trap, ...).

Sixteenth day

Damian Wayne is a complicated character. For ten years he was teached to kill. He only learnt about his mother at eight. He only learnt about his father at ten. Thalia used him for anything from power play to plotting someone death. Bruce loves him, but he is so moronic about his own emotions it's kind of painful to read sometimes. And there is the thing where Damian is never enough, his mother cloned him (Heretic), his father has other wards (mainly Red Robin). Dick Grayson went incognito spying when the boy had finally a healthier relationship (Grayson: The Superspy). His best friend, Jon Kent was suddenly older then him (2018 Superman #16). Alfred was killed in front of him (2016 Batman #77). Yeah, Damian is a jerk, but he has every right to be a jerk in my opinion. And I wanted that recreate here as Lila is a liar and threatening his 'only' position as a blood son. His only weapon to prevent it to have a fit and doing what was teached to him.

Fulltime

[ace-t-fic]

This a Peter si fic I started (its purely 'feel good' no eye roll moments) but never found out what I wanted to do with it. This hasn't been grammar checked ethier.

The yearly trip to science industries (after the fiasco concerning OC labs) was heavily guarded by the gpa efficiency minimum and it was usually 123 Seniors at Midtown high each year. That only left less than 30 who had the gpa needed in order to attend the field trip. But with detentions and tardies that often brought it down to 25 added in with the people who actually turned in their permission slips drop that number down to a solid 13. That usually  meant the whole decathlon team, one jock, the Sat acres and people with tiger parents. 

So when the paper was only passed to Peter and Flash in their homeroom he wasn’t surprised who qualified for the field trip. 

Last year's field trip the students all got to go to Tesla and returned the day after. Liz said it was a fun experience and even one of the kids was later offered an internship available to him after their graduation. Liz herself wasn’t all that interested in the company herself but she said the experience was an enjoyable one. So Peter would have been lying if he said he wasn’t practically buzzed for when his senior year trip came. 

He wondered if they would be able to tour the new labs Wakanda had set up. He wanted to go for a while but their outside personnel was strictly limited to certified personnel and those with names that ended with Stark or Banner or Avengers. But the name staring back at him was just laughing at him, “congratulations, you have qualified for this year's exclusive Senior trip to SI inc.” an all paid expense to visit his work. Now instead of taking the City bus he could just catch a ride on a big ugly yellow one. 

Not that this was a let down it was still an amazing opportunity many would kill for. He thought gazing behind him to stare at Flash who fist bumped the air. The attention caught his attention and he made brief eye contact with Peter with a smug little smile on his face. Peter only flashed back his before the flash rolled his eyes and no longer paid him attention. 

Flash still didn’t partially believe Peter's internship-neither did anyone else really- but flash was the most put out about it. He would be lying if he says he wasn’t rooting for Peter the night of his junior year party. He even helped Diana, the maid clean and dust just in case Spiderman really did show up. And when he didn’t show up he told Peter exactly how he felt about it with a new string of nicknames. Added on to the occasional passive agressive shoulder shove but nothing more or less beyond that. Sure he was a dick but he wasn’t a good fighter, just richer than Parker he was beating him in the fight of life. 

Peter only rolled his eyes back, shoving the paper into the back of his class notebook. 

The minutes ticked by steadily as Peter waited to meet Ned at his locker. He’s almost deadly positive Ned received one too and is waiting to shake the life out of his shoulders. Peter may work at Si but Ned’s never been and the experience in itself is quite entertaining. Things are always different when best friends are involved. 

“Anyone who received a field trip paper will have to have it signed and returned to me, the office, or Mrs. Meyers up to five days before the date of the field trip. Other than that we will continue on with the stock market Tomorrow!” The teacher screamed over the rustling papers and scraping chairs as he let them out a minute early, if you ask anyone on campus that made him the cool teacher.

Petter grabbed his folders, having lost another backpack he was sure laid webbed to the building and exited the room. He easily made it to his locker before Ned did and even got to close it before he was approached

. 

“Dude you can show me your lab.” he whispered to peter. 

“Actually I can’t, my lab is Tony’s and that's only because Bucky has been keeping him away from the lab.” Peter announced before he got his hopes up. “We’re probably gonna tour below mid level, I don't think they allow anyone without a permanent badge into any of the labs.” 

“Do we get to meet any of the avengers?” 

“Probably Bruce, he’s usually chilling with all the other scientists. It’ll be cool though you know i haven’t actually met him? The dude has to be dumb smart, you know Tony scraps ideas if he can’t get Bruce to sign off on them.” Peter gushes, before an arm is roughly swung around his shoulder. “Ow-no.”

Flashes pffts, “give me a break i hate this as much as you but apparently since I’m friends with idiots i have to slum it with you and- I’m sorry what's your-”

“Ned”

“Yeah Ned, that sounds familiar for the trip. I asked more about it and this might be a good time to turn in our submissions for the upcoming Intern conference. We get in ahead and we can probably impress him enough for our stuff to actually be looked at. Peter, I know your tech smart, I do numbers and possibilities and Ned we’ve been in coding since middle school together so we can definitely do that.” Flash rambles.

“What are you talking about?”

“We’ve been coding together for 6 years and you just barely remembered my name?”

“What I’m talking about-Peter is welcome to the winning team. Listen your smart parker you may or may not have an internship although its kinda sketchy that out of nowhere you a loser 17 year old defies all social laws and pops on the popularity chart” Understandable he still cursed Ned for saying anything right before he asked Mary jane to prom god that was embarrassing. 

You know that fancy stuff doesn’t bother me Peter. If I wanted to solely date you for your internship I’d hope someone would’ve knocked sense into you to get over me. 

“But I honestly feel as if we wow at least one impressionable person. They'll seek us an audience with Stark before the rest of the crowd.”  Flash continues. 

“You know that honestly doesn’t sound bad?” Ned finishes unsure over the look of alarm on Peter's face. Because yeah it’s not a bad idea and that expo meant the world to the real science losers around the GLOBE. And Ned really did want to be involved beyond the guy in the chair way before Peter turned into Spiderman. Peter would probably still be hands deep in his theories if he hadn’t gotten bit by some escaped lab spider. This expo at one point in his life -sophomore year- was the only thing that was gonna get Aunt May out of the nearly slumps. 

And flash…. Well he’s just a fucking nerd to put it lightly he was just rich, and since he was rich and gushes this much about being a intern of all things meant he might’ve been worse then both Peter and Ned when they first envisioned running coffee for Tony stark. 

Plus it would be kinda unfair to see if he could pull strings for Ned instead of proving that he was capable of it far more on his own. “Fiiiinn-”

“Whoop! You might actually not be so bad penis.” and with a clap on his shoulder disappearing with the ringing of the bell. 

Peter clenched his jaw shooting a ‘why’ look at Ned, “Oh don’t give me that look, you think I want to work with him. He has money and resources and he is good at real numbers not technical of coding, look you're an spaceship mechanic, he does the landing the thrust or whatever they do and I’m the guy who counts down which is honestly better then both of those jobs-” 

“Please Ned you're embarrassing me '' Peter laughed as he and Ned made their way through the day. 2 months until the field trip that was more than enough time for three geniuses to at least come up with a concept and a prototype for something cool. 

Scrap that they’re screwed. 

“I almost died.” Ned said, sitting in a shock of foam. “You guys just sat there, you were gonna watch me die.”

“Don’t be dramatic.” Ned reared back at Flash's comment, “Dramatic! I just went up in flames!” 

“Hey, it was your boy Peter who made it. Plus maybe if he didn’t bail early last  Monday we could’ve caught that our numbers weren’t matching up with his” Maybe if some assholes weren't trying to rob F.E.A.S.T after their charity event he wouldn’t have had too. 

“I told you things happen Flash, I do in fact have a life.”

“MJ tell you that”

“-oo burn”

“Ned!- ok listen in order for this hoverboard to work we have to make sure everything is matched up. It shouldn’t have done that so something else must’ve gone wrong too.” Peter explained grabbing the notebooks and tossing them on the Flashes workbench. Hoverboard and back to future stickers on the covers.

“Might be the fact that it isn’t Hovering. But that's just me.”

[elatedmarvel]

Fallingwater

Steve Rogers x reader

Summary: A whirlwind romance takes you on a roller coaster of emotions. 

Word Count: 2,555

AN: I know it’s NYE and I should post a story about NYE but this was due and I’m so proud of it. This is for @nacho-bucky​‘s writing challenge! Thank you so much for hosting Cait, I had so much fun writing this. My prompt was the song Fallingwater by Maggie Rogers (one of my favs songs ever, it was number 2 on my 2019 most listened). I legit did about 5 outlines before i realized I hated them all, and then listened to the song on repeat for a day before coming up with this. Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Slightly angsty and mention of sexy times. 

“The moment I set eyes on her, I knew she was the one. I thought I was doing so well, but then I met her and it was like everything was under a spell.”

It was probably too early to be doing shots, but you couldn’t care. You slurred your way through a speech, how hard you worked, how much you sacrificed to become the Director of R and D at Stark Inc. Your friends cheered loudly, some whooping, before you tilted your head back and let the alcohol burn its way down your throat. 

Your face hurt, but you couldn’t stop smiling. Everything you had worked for just came true, and now you were the youngest co-Director of R and D in the company’s history. Drinks with the girls seemed like the only fitting way to celebrate. 

Your friend, Natasha, was letting everyone know how much you deserved this promotion when your eyes caught his. Suddenly, every word Natasha said was drowned out, and the whole bar became fuzzy expect for him. 

His full lips formed into a smile, and he tilted his beer your way. Quickly he turned to his friend before sliding off his chair and walking towards you. Somehow you managed to meet him in the middle, not even sure when your legs had moved.

“Hi” you breathed. 

“Hey, you’re the new co-director or R and D at Stark’s right?” and his charming smiled almost laid you flat on the floor.

“Yeah... that’s me” surprised he recognized you.

“Sorry, I just realized how creepy that must have sounded, I just work there too. Name’s Steve, I’m the director of graphic design. Tony and Bruce were gushing about you at our meeting today.” he chuckled to himself. “I have to say, you’re a very impressive person.” 

“Thank you! It’s been amazing to work at Stark Inc and I still can’t believe I got promoted. It feels like a dream, to be honest.” 

“Trust me, from what they told me, they would be crazy not to promote you.” 

The moment of silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable. You took the time to really get a good look at him. Dimples, blond fluffy hair, and a jawline that could cut through pizza. Meeting his eyes again, you blushed at being caught. 

“Do you wanna dance?” he asks, hopeful. All you can do is nod. 

The night passes by fast. One moment your dancing and laughing at the bar, and the next, your kissing his luscious lips and pulling off your own shirt. 

Rolling over the next morning, you were met with the glorious sight of a naked and sleeping Steve Rogers. His hair was fanned out, and the sunlight peaking in hit him in all the right spots. It was torture getting out of bed and putting on your clothes, you wanted to stay and trace his freckles all day. 

The sound of the front door clicking shut woke him up. Squinting from the intrusive light, he blindly felt the bed for your soft figure, wanting to curl up with you and fall back asleep. The paper on the pillow pulled his attention and he opened the note enough to read. 

Thanks for the magical night! Call me sometime XXX-XXX-XXXX.

“She’s the light in the dark places in my life. No one could compare to her.”

Just like that, you’re hooked. 

The next time you meet is at your first meeting with the rest of the Directors at Stark Inc. Excited to be formally introduced, and wanting to make a good impression, you had arrived early with bagels and coffee for the meeting. 

You’re busy thanking Peter, the intern, for helping you, when he waltzes in. The navy suit he’s wearing does nothing for what you know is underneath. Most things don’t do him justice, it’s like he was carved by Michelangelo himself. And just like that, you’re brought back to Friday night, sweaty bodies and sultry kisses played in your mind. 

You jump slightly as Bruce comes in and begins to chat with you. He’s already talking about making improvements to the new AI you’re building, but you’ve zoned out too long to really catch what he’s saying, so you simply nod along

Steve’s eyes flicker to yours, and you can see the mirth behind his smile. Busted. You hope the office lighting washes out your blush. And just as Bruce segways into another project, Tony Stark himself waltzes into the room, officially saving your ass. 

Everyone takes a seat, and the meeting commences, but you’re far less energetic about it now. You try to focus on what Tony is saying, you really do, but you can’t stop thinking about the blue eyed man sitting on the opposite side of the table. It’s hard not to look at him, even his profile is drool worthy. 

Hoping to god your bsing skills are up to par, you ohh, ahh and nod at the right times. Chancing another glance Steve, you find he’s already looking at you. The smile comes easy to your face before you hear Tony clear his throat. 

Looking around, you realize that everyone was looking at you, and you’re racking your brain to see if you remembered to put on deodorant this morning. 

“Y/N, do you want to introduce yourself, or do you want to keep ogling Steve there?” Tony asks, and you’ve never wanted the ground to swallow you more than you have in this moment. 

Clearing your throat and sneaking a sip of water, you gather your wits quickly and introduce yourself, and also give a brief overview of the projects you have and are working on. 15 minutes later, you’re pretty sure everyone had forgotten about Tony’s snide remark as you give the floor back to your boss to wrap up the meeting. 

Everyone takes turns coming up to you and congratulating you, shaking your hands and other pleasantries that you really don’t care for. Of course, Steve is the last person to approach and your heart skips a beat as he pulls you in for a hug. God he smells amazing. 

“You were great! I really can’t wait to work with you.” he states earnestly. You give a weak smile, and chastise yourself for being so smitten with someone you just met.  

“Thank you, I had a lot of great mentors.” you say, cursing your voice for breaking at the end. 

Steve’s hand falls to the small of your back, and guides you out of the conference room. 

“I’m really impressed with the latest model vibranium shield, looks like it could really be useful to someone in combat.” the mention of one of your projects has you lighting up, and chatting up a storm as you enter the elevator

“Yes! Bruce told me you were the one to sketch the design first, and I have to say that it inspired us to go sleek and lightweight. We really wanted--” but you don’t get to finish because his lips are on yours. It takes you a moment to process, but then you kiss back with as much fervor as you can manage. 

His hands find your waist, and work their way up, while yours find his hair and neck. Anything you both could do to get closer, full on making out like high schoolers in the elevator. 

The ding alerts you that the door is about to open, and you break apart. Your struggling for breath, and your lips feel swollen. The women that entered the elevator takes a moment to take in your ragged breathing and Steve’s messy hair before smirking. “I’ll take the next one.”

The moment the doors close, you both burst into laughter. 

“Well, she sure won’t be forgetting us” you giggle. Steve hums in agreement before taking a step towards you and kissing your forehead.  

“10 bucks says that Tony’ll know before lunch” he chuckles. 

“Oh, I’m sure he already knows.” you states, pointing up to the security camera in the corner. 

Steve groans before burying his head in your neck. “Worth it” you hear him murmur. 

The following weeks follow much the same.

Stolen kisses and little notes are passed between the two of you in the halls. Flowers show up more in your office, and Steve has never had as many baked goods in his life as he does now. 

You make a point to keep it casual, not referring as dates, no staying over at each other’s places. It’s supposed to be light and breezy.

Take out when one person is working late, breaks in each other’s office to rant or feel each other up, bubbles baths after a stressful day. It all falls into place and becomes domestic, and you never even realized the moment it had stopped being casual. 

It’s a whirlwind that becomes too much when you hear three words from Steve. 

“I love you” 

“It feels like I’m stuck upstream without her.”

You’re still panting, and you can feel it in your bones. His skin is glistening with sweat, and you both revel in the afterglow. You know the moment can’t last forever, but you hope to stretch it as long as possible. 

You sigh before pressing one last kiss to his lips and throwing the covers off your legs. You can feel his eyes staring at your back as you gather your clothes from the floor, cursing yourself for so carelessly throwing your bra somewhere you can’t find. 

“Stay” he states, and you’ve never wanted anything more. 

“You know I can’t” you say as you pull up your pants and button them, ignoring the way your hands shake.

“It’s getting late, just stay the night.” he begs, sliding from the bed to pull you into an embrace. He knows how to play dirty.

“I need to go Steve.” you state more firmly, his arms dropping from around you as he takes a step back to study you. After his gaze feels too strong, you start to throw on the rest of your clothes, hoping to leave before doing something you’ll regret. 

“Is this because I told you I love you?” he asks, and your heart leaps into your throat. The feeling of panic begins to ebb into your bones, the same feeling you had when the words left his mouth the first time. 

You had gotten ice cream stuck in your hair. He was helping you get the liquid out of your hair while you lamented about good ice cream going to waste. It was so quiet and inconspicuous that if it weren’t for the panic forming, you would have missed them. 

Laughing nervously, you thanked him for his help and made some dumb excuse to go home as fast as possible. The week that followed was so normal that you were sure he forgot the incident. 

Apparently not.

“No, I just need to go home” voice shaking. “Why are you ignoring this?” he asks. 

“I’m not.”

“Stop denying it! I’m sorry that this freaks you out, but I’m not sorry for you knowing how I feel about you!”

“You can’t actually feel that way! We’ve known each other for 2 months!” you yell back.

“It doesn’t matter how long we’ve known each other because I know how I feel. I love you!” he shouts back, arms gesticulating wildly, it would be funny if you weren’t drowning in the moment.

“What do you want me to do?”

“Say how you feel, say you love me or that you don’t. But say something!” and now he’s pacing back and forth, hands running through his hair. You can tell he’s frustrated, but you can’t seem to feel anything but cold. It’s moving too fast and starting to spiral, and you just want it to stop for a moment. 

“You always tell me just what I’m supposed to say, as if it could be any other way.” you say quietly. It’s not true, you know it’s not, but in the heat of the moment, it’s all you could do to defend yourself.

It’s silent for a moment, he’s stopped pacing and you just stare at each other.  

The stand still is getting to you, and you can’t bare it another second. Grabbing your bag from the chair, you practically run to his door and throw it open. 

The sound of the door shutting feels more like a knife severing your relationship. 

“So, to most amazing woman in the world, I love you Pepper, and I will never stop.”

The applause brings you back to the moment, Tony and Pepper’s wedding reception. Tears you didn’t notice slide down your face, and you dab them away quickly, hoping no one noticed.

Since that fateful night one month ago, you’ve replayed your relationship multiple times. Every time you see him in the halls, you recall a night of passion. Meetings were spent thinking about jokes that you and Steve would have passed back and forth. Laying in bed, you thought of all the things you wish you had said on that final night. 

You excuse yourself from the table, feeling claustrophobic, and make your way towards the bar. You had already seen Steve at the wedding, and if he was going to look so gorgeous, you were going to get drunk enough to forget. 

An arm catches you on the way, and the way goosebumps rise on your skin, you know it’s him. Turning to face him, you could cry at how much better he looks up close. He had grown a slight beard, and the black suit fit him like a glove. You were sure everyone would be staring at him. 

“Hi, dance with me?” he asks, so simple, so loaded. 

You think for a moment before nodding. He gently sweeps you into his embrace, and you melt into him. It feels right, like everything before was unknowingly wrong. 

“I miss you” you breathe, not wanting to disturb the moment. 

“Me too” He hums, the vibrations tickling where your forehead meets his cheek. “I think about you all the time. Life is much more boring without you by my side.”

You both continue to sway, to content to do much else. There hasn’t been a moment that felt as warm and safe as this, this was home. It’s where you wanted to be for the rest of your life, and you’re not scared anymore. 

“I never meant anything I said that night, I was terrified Steve. It was all happening so fast and it was overwhelming. I never loved you fully in the way I could.” tears welling up in your eyes. 

He pulls his head back far enough to look at you before bringing his thumb to wipe the tears that escaped down your cheek. 

“I pushed too hard. I didn’t think about how you felt. I was scared of losing you, and I thought that fighting for you was the way to go instead of catching you.” 

You shake your head and let out a laugh, “we were both idiots.” His arms wrap around you tighter, pressing a kiss to your forehead, he laughs along with you. 

“I’m not scared anymore.” you state. Before you know it, his soft lips are back on his. 

Breaking apart, you know you have the biggest grin on your face.

“I’m like fallingwater.”

~~~

Thank you so much for reading! Feedback is always welcome!

[huilian]

chapter one of my court of owls rewrite AU!

***

Dick stands near the podium, watching Bruce give his speech. He already knows that the speech is about looking forward to the future to create a better Gotham, instead of focusing on the city’s grim present and past. However, Dick finds himself thinking about the city as it was and still is, despite the point of Bruce’s entire speech is for people to not do so.

Dick can’t help it. Bruce starts the speech with stories of his connection to Gotham, and Dick finds himself remembering his own association with the city, and all that entails. 

He wishes he could say he hasn’t thought of the Court for years, but that would be a lie. 

Without Dick realizing it, Bruce has finished his speech. The socialites and elites of Gotham lap it up, of course. Dick knows that a lot of them don’t really believe in what Bruce is saying: invest in Gotham’s future and we can make Gotham a better place--and Dick has his suspicions about which of them actually wants to make a better Gotham, considering what he knows about them--, but they take it anyway. That’s Gotham’s elites for you. 

Dick waits until Bruce has done his cursory thank-yous before putting himself next to Bruce’s elbow. He knows how much these rich people hate it when he interrupts their conversations with their beloved Brucie, but that makes him do it more often. 

Spite. What a powerful motivator.

“Are you sure about this?” Dick starts signing, not really caring who sees. It’s not like any  of the people surrounding Bruce knows ASL anyway. They never care enough to learn. 

“Yes,” Bruce signs back. 

“Don’t you have enough to do with Batman Inc.?” Dick can’t say how much he loves that he can actually talk about Batman in public. He just has to slide everything under the blanket of Batman Inc.. After all, it’s public knowledge that Bruce Wayne is funding Batman Inc. No more searching for increasingly ridiculous excuses.

Plus, it is not like anyone around them knows what they’re saying. Like Dick said before, they don’t care enough to learn. But it’s always good to be safe.

“Actually, I’m thinking of spending more time in Gotham.” The people surrounding Bruce start to disperse, grumbling and whispering to themselves and each other, after it becomes clear that Bruce is not going to translate his conversation with Dick to the people surrounding him. Honestly, by now, they should know already. It’s not like this hasn’t occurred many, many times before. “I-”

Dick stops Bruce with a hand. With the crowd surrounding them, or more precisely, surrounding Bruce, clearing, Dick can see Commissioner Gordon, standing near a window as he talks to his phone. While the sight is not something out of the ordinary, especially in an event like this,the words that Dick can read from his lips, however, are unusual. 

… stab wounds… I’ll be there…

Well, maybe even that is not something new. It’s Gotham, after all. Despite Bruce’s, and lately Dick’s, efforts, victims of stabbings are still common. What’s extraordinary is the fact that the GCPD is calling the commissioner about a stabbing, when they know perfectly well he’s attending a function. 

Not a regular crime then. 

Bruce, noticing that Dick’s focus is now on the Commissioner, moves his attention to him. 

They both watched Jim Gordon for a while, and when the Commissioner hangs up, Bruce signs, “Are you going out?”

Dick nods. He’s already thinking of excuses, and whether or not he should take Damian. A stabbing doesn’t sound like a case Dick would keep away from him, but if they’re calling the Commissioner about it…

“Want me to come with?”

No, Dick’s not going to bring Damian. If they’re calling the Commissioner because of some mystery surrounding the stabbing, then he’ll involve Damian later. The kid needs more detectiving practice. But if it’s something else, something more horrible than just a mystery, then he’ll work the case alone. Damian doesn’t need more violence in his life. 

At least not more than what he usually sees on a daily basis. 

“No,” Dick signs. “I’ll go alone. It’s your party, you should be here. Keep an eye on Damian.” Dick watches as Bruce’s eyes go distant--the way they did when he doesn’t understand something--at the sign name Dick has given for Damian, index finger up, palm facing outwards, which is then continued by the palm turning, while touching the chest with the middle finger. The letter D, moving onto a modified sign for heart. Dick has been meaning to have that conversation with Bruce for a long time, now, about what Damian means to him and how they will navigate that now that Bruce is back, but they never seem to have the time. Maybe Bruce being in Gotham more will be good for them. For all of them “Make sure he’s not putting anything on fire,” Dick finishes, teasing a bit. 

Bruce eyes him warily. Dick knows he’s not sure whether Dick is joking about the fire bit or not Dick just smiles as he tries to figure it out. 

Maybe Damian will put something on fire. And with both Tim and Cass in attendance, chaos will still reign even if Damian doesn’t light anything up. Tim and Damian are bad enough, but Dick has learned recently that putting all three of them in close proximity to each other for a prolonged period of time will only result in chaos. 

It’ll be fun to watch Bruce handle that for a change.

Bruce sighs. “I’ll be on standby as back-up, then.”

“You just want to ditch the party.”

Bruce flicks Dick’s nose. For a moment, Dick is transported to years ago, having a conversation very similar to this one. Only this time, Dick is the one who’s going out and Bruce is the back-up. It startles him a bit, knowing how far he’s come since those unsure Robin days, shoulders heavy with the need to redeem his mother’s name for him, and always, always scared of the possibility of hitting too hard, of going too far. 

Him and Damian are so much more alike than the kid can possibly think. 

Dick’s shoulders are still heavy now, but it’s a different name he’s bearing, with a different parent behind it. 

No. The mission first. Dick can do his maudlin reflections later. He shakes his head a bit, just to clear it, then signs, “I’m going to call Tim or Cass if I need back-up. This is your party, and you’ll stay until the very end of this stupid thing.”

Bruce flicks his nose again. Or, well, he tries to. Dick ducks down, leaving Bruce’s fingers to flick air. 

“Brat,” Bruce says, huffing with exasperation. Then, his expression turns serious, and he signs, “Be careful.”

Dick smiles. “Always.”

***

The cape no longer drags him with its weight. It’s still heavy, it’s still weird and constricting, but it no longer pulls him down. Dick wonders what that says about him. 

Since he left Damian back at the party, with plenty of protests from the boy, Batman is flying solo tonight. Dick takes the opportunity to play around a bit, since no Robin means he doesn’t have to be a good example. 

It’s not strictly professional, but it keeps the mythos going. Besides, Bruce used to do it all the time. Still does. 

Dick lands at the crime scene silently, searching for the officer in charge to spook. 

The officer in question is Sergeant Harvey Bullock. Dick sighs internally. No chance of spooking, then. Bullock has been in the game for far too long to be startled by the Bat anymore, whether it is him or Bruce.

“Sergeant Bullock,” Batman says. Dick hates doing it, hates forcing the words out of his mouth, hates the memories that come with it, but unlike Nightwing, Batman cannot be mute. 

It’s bad enough that Commissioner Gordon and a lot of the Rogues know he’s not the original one. He doesn’t need to advertise it. 

“Batman.” Bullock nods at him. “Come on. Let’s go look at some art.”

Sergeant Bullock leads him inside, to where a man is pinned to the wall by knives. 

“The landlord found him on a routine rent run. He went by the name Sam Strigs…,” Bullock says as Dick listens with half an ear. There’s something familiar about the knives. 

Dick moves closer. 

An owl. On the handle of the knives. 

Dick’s breathing stops for a second. He can feel his hands curling around phantom knives, much like these ones. His neck tingles with the sense of being watched. 

No. Dick takes a breath. Bruce said the Court is gone. Bruce said he has run the Court to the ground and burned them himself. 

Dick glances at Bullock. He’s still talking, oblivious to the fact that Dick’s mind had gone somewhere else. Good. It won’t do to have people know that the Batman is scared of the Court. 

There will be riots. No one will take Batman seriously ever again. Dick can’t do that to Bruce.

But then… an owl. The Court is powerful. It’s possible that Bruce hasn’t burnt them all, that they have been hiding, biding their time, waiting for their chance to strike. But, that brings its own sets of questions. The most prevalent one is, why now?

“... has anything to do with the old wive’s tale-”

“I know what you mean,” Batman says. Dick knows. He knows all about the Court of Owls. There’s no need for Bullock to start saying their name out loud. Speak not a whispered word of them. Better not to tempt fate. 

He also says that because he can excuse that with Batman’s general sullenness and know-it-all behaviour. The Batman is not scared of the Court of Owls. He just can’t be bothered to listen to their name. 

Dick pulls his eyes away from the knives, surveying the rest of the room. The smell of paint thinner hits his nose, blocking even the stench of the body. 

Why is he smelling paint thinner?

Oh. Maybe. Dick pulls out a lighter from his belt, then starts walking around the room, trying to find where the smell is strongest. 

The smell is strongest on the wall right opposite of Sam Strig’s body. Dick observes the wall. He doesn’t see anything that will give him clues, but paint thinner does leave no trace on this kind of wall. Dick flicks the lighter on and approaches the wall. He hopes he’s not wrong, because if he is, then he’ll be burning the crime scene down.

“Hey! What are you doing?” Bullock shouts, but it’s too late. The fire has caught. 

It illuminates the room. Well, the good news is, Dick is not burning anything down. 

The bad news is, the fire writes, RICHARD GRAYSON WILL DIE TOMORROW.

Well. Dick has had his share of death threats over the years, but none so… dramatic as this. 

“Tomorrow?” Bullock says. “Our time of death is a week ago, so the ‘tomorrow’ Strigs thought of already came and went. This Grayson boy should be in the clear.”

“Unless he knew when he’d be found,” Batman says. 

Bullock narrows his eyes, then grimaces. “The landlord says he always comes on the second Friday of the month. Maybe our victim knows he’s going to die and be found today, and left a warning for this Grayson boy.” Bullock snorts. “Then good luck to that killer. Grayson’s Wayne’s adopted son, and Wayne’s security has security. I’m guessing you know the boy? What with Wayne being your-”

Batman grunts. Why would a dying man leave a warning message for his killer’s next victim? Unless…, unless the one writing the message is not Sam Strigs. 

If it’s a Talon writing that message, if it’s the Court who’s sending that message…

“I’ll be seeing you, Bullock,” and with that, Dick is gone before Bullock can answer. He has a murderer to catch. 

***

“Are you insane?” Bruce says. Other people will say that Bruce is completely unaffected. Dick knows better. He’s speaking to Dick. “The Court is back in Gotham, they’re threatening you, and you’re telling me to leave?”

Dick sighs. He would also like to be stressed about this, but when he comes back to the Bunker and tells Bruce about the situation, he sees that Bruce is actually panicking over this. He decides then that he’s going to be calm and collected. No sense in having two Batmans that are panicking, after all.

“We don’t know if it’s the Court or not. It could be a copycat.”

“I’m not leaving, Dick. You should have called me the moment you have any indication that it’s the Court instead of letting me play billionaire in a party all night.”

And that’s the thing, isn’t it? Even if this is the Court, Bruce has been protecting Dick against them for so long now. It’s Dick’s problem, and it’s past time he handled it. 

“I can handle it,” Dick signs, perfectly calm and collected. He’s not, not really, but Bruce wouldn’t even consider going if Dick isn’t the picture of serenity. 

He loves Bruce for that, but Bruce shouldn’t be worrying about Dick anymore. Not when he has so much more to worry about. 

Bruce pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m… I’m not saying you can’t handle it, Dick. I…”

Dick laughs a little bit. Even with the threat of the Court swirling at the back of his mind, it’s always fun to see Bruce getting flustered with emotions, instead of locking them down and playing the unfeeling Batman. 

Dick taps Bruce’s fingers, forcing the man to pay attention to him, then signs, “You can’t say it, can you? I’m worried.”

“Dick,” Bruce says. “It’s the Court.” 

Dick changes his demeanour instantly. “I know,” he signs. “It’s time I faced them.”

A look passes between them. A thousand unsaid things and a thousand unspoken emotions. 

There’s no evidence it’s the Court, Dick’s look says.

They’re smart enough to conceal it, Bruce counters.

Even if it is, I can handle it.

It’s my job to protect you, the set of Bruce’s mouth says.

I can protect myself just fine.

Bruce takes a breath. Then, in the rise of his eyebrows, he asks, Are you sure about this?

And Dick, answering in kind, raises his own eyebrows. Yes, I’m sure.

“Alright,” Bruce breathes out, “but call for back-up the moment you need it, Dick. I’m serious.”

“And by back-up you mean you, right?” because Bruce is nothing if not paranoid and controlling. He won’t even be in Gotham by early tomorrow morning. The Batman of Tokyo needs his help, and so Bruce is flying out first thing tomorrow. He can’t seriously think that he is going to be Dick’s first point of contact. 

Nowadays, Gotham is not lacking in protectors, and so Dick is not lacking in back-ups. Babs is here, Stephanie is here, Tim is here. Cass is back, and even Jason can be persuaded to give them back-ups once in a blue moon. Dick is not lacking in back-ups.

“None of them have faced the Court before.”

“I have.”

“Dick,” Bruce growls.

Dick sighs. “I promise to call for back-up, but I’m not promising to call you. Tokyo needs you much more than we do. We can handle this.”

Another thousand unsaid things. Another thousand unspoken emotions. 

“Fine,” Bruce sighs.. 

Dick smiles at him. He turns to go to the lockers to change out of his suit, but before he steps out of the room, Bruce adds, “You know that the mission is not more important than you, right?”

He is gone before Dick can answer.

***

“How much longer do I have to endure this, Grayson?”

“You love it,” Dick teases. 

Damian scoffs. “I repeat, how much longer do I have to endure this, Grayson?”

Dick laughs. Damian glares at him, but he doesn’t stop stirring the sauce, despite all his complaints in the last twenty three minutes. Dick tries to stop laughing, but one look at Damian’s glare gets him starting again. 

It warms Dick’s heart, to see his little brother stirring the sauce next to him. The Damian from months ago would have stabbed him with a kitchen knife before deigning to accompany Dick in cooking. The sight even manages to push the threat on his life to the very back of his mind. 

Dick takes a few deep breaths to calm himself. Damian won’t appreciate it if he keeps laughing at him. Then, Dick walks over and ruffles Damian’s hair before taking over the spatula. Only Damian can make stirring pasta sauce sounds like torture. 

“Give me the tomatoes,” Dick signs. 

“Yes, I know, Grayson,” Damian grumbles, handing Dick a plate of chopped tomatoes. “And stop signing while you’re stirring. We don’t want a repeat of last Thursday.”

Dick stops stirring, then gives Damian his best conspiring look. “Nothing happened last Thursday.”

Damian snorts. “Keep telling yourself that. I will break the moment Pennyworth asks me about it. I do not wish to incur his wrath. Again.”

“The mighty Damian falls under Alfred’s wrath, huh?”

“It would be prudent to do so,” Damian says. “And stop signing.”

Dick laughs again. It’s fun, actually, being in the Penthouse’s kitchen, cooking dinner with his little brother, despite the complaints from Damian. It also serves to give Alfred a break every once in a while. God knows the man needs it. 

The sunlight glints on the countertop, unhindered by anything. It’s almost sunset already. Dick knows that the Court can strike just as well, if not better, at night, but the sight of the sun setting calms Dick’s beating heart somewhat. At night they are Batman and Robin, not Dick and Damian. At night Dick can protect his brother more. 

It’s ironic, that Dick likes Damian to be on the streets better than at home, but on the streets, he can lead any attempts on Dick’s life away from Damian. He can’t do that here. 

Dick is perfectly fine with the Court threatening him, but he cannot bear it if his family is in danger. Never mind that all of their lives are at risk every time they put on a mask. 

But they can handle those dangers. They have for years now. The Court though. The Court is something else. The Court is Dick’s problem. 

A shadow appears over the countertop. And from its angle, whatever it is is perching on the windows. Too big to be a bird, and anything else won’t perch on the window. 

No. No. Not now, not when he’s so close to getting through the day unscathed. 

Not when Damian is so close to getting through the day unharmed. 

Down, Dick signs with the field signals, ones that only his family and his Titans know. Ones that Damian is trained to recognize and obey instantly.

He does, thank god. Damian puts down the basil he’s been chopping and takes cover behind the kitchen counter.

Not a moment too late, because once Damian’s head went out of sight, the window breaks. The windows at Wayne Tower are supposed to be unbreakable, but…

It’s a Talon. It’s a Talon standing inside Dick’s kitchen, in very close proximity to Damian. 

So it is the Court. 

And they have sent a Talon for Dick’s head. 

Dick moves into his stance. From the uniform, Dick knows that the Talon in front of him is his great-grandfather, William Cobb. That’s both good news and bad news, because Dick knows how Cobb fights, but Cobb also knows how Dick fights. After all, he’s the one who trained Dick all those years ago. 

He’s also a damn good fighter.

But Dick has spent the years since their last encounter training with other people and he’s guessing that Cobb hasn’t. He throws the pan filled with hot pasta towards Cobb, trying to buy some time. 

As Dick had expected, the pasta didn't hurt Cobb,but it did give him time to take a knife from the knife block on the counter. Distantly, Dick remembers Damian holding a knife before he took cover, and wonders where that knife is, but Dick pushes that thought out for later. 

Dick has batarangs on his person, as always, but he’s not sure whether the Court already knows that tidbit of information, so he doesn’t dare pull them out. 

Cobb throws his own knife. Dick ducks and rolls towards Cobb. Another knife, this one aimed downwards. Dick leaps up. 

Cobb may be good, but Dick is right. Cobb’s skills, although impressive, hasn’t improved in the years since their last meeting. 

Dick’s has increased exponentially. 

But he’s in civvies, with only the one knife as a weapon. Cobb is in his full Talon regalia, with dozens of knives, two swords, throwing darts, and possibly several grenades. He also has regenerative abilities. Dick does not. 

Dick aims a kick towards Cobb’s eyes. Cobb evades it, but that’s okay. It is supposed to be a feint anyway. Dick knows what move Cobb will use to evade the kick and he makes use of that by slashing at Cobb’s back. 

It hits, but Dick knows the cut will heal soon enough. Dick has to be fast. He trips Cobb’s legs and strikes at his neck. 

Dick used enough force to shatter a normal person’s trachea, but Cobb is a Talon, and so even that is not hard enough. Cobb takes the hit, but still manages to land one of his knives into Dick’s arm. 

Dick does not have regenerative abilities. 

Dick rolls away, protecting his injured arm. Cobb does not have the same qualms. He starts to say, “Richard Grayson. The Court of Owls has-”

His words are cut off by a knife to the spine. Damian. What is he doing, staying here? He’s supposed to be out and safe. 

The knife did give Dick the opportunity to kick Cobb out of the window. He doesn’t even twitch, because Damian apparently had lodged his knife deep into Cobb’s spine. Not even a Talon can heal with a knife still embedded there. 

That done, Dick turns towards Damian, hands already moving. 

Damian doesn’t even blink. He just says, “You’re hurt,” like that’s all there is to be said. 

Dick begs to differ. “What are you doing? You could’ve gotten hurt!”

“So you would have me leave you?” 

“Yes!”Dick signs that with more force than the sign actually needs. “When I tell you to leave, you leave.”

“You didn’t tell me to leave,” Damian protests. “You told me to go down. And I did.”

Dick starts to sign again, before he looks at Damian. The kid meant well, and Dick can see that Damian is shaken up by the attack. He’s just trying to help. And Dick can’t really fault that logic. But still…

“You know what I meant. Don’t do that again.”

“Tt,” Damian clicks his tongue. He stops for a moment, and Dick lets him. Sometimes Damian needed more time to gather his thoughts, and Dick is more than happy to oblige him. “Are you not going to reprimand me about the knife?”

Oh. Damian didn’t know. 

“You didn’t know about the healing abilities?”

“No. I suspected, based on the way he paid no mind on your attack on his trachea. Anyways, it wouldn’t have killed even a normal human being. It would only paralyze them.”

Dick sighs. He really shouldn’t encourage the violence, but the kid did save him. And Dick owes him an explanation. 

“Don’t do that to a normal human being. Otherwise, good job.” Dick ruffles Damian’s hair again, with his uninjured arm. Then, he sobers up, and signs, “That’s a Talon.” Dick doesn’t elaborate. The kid knows about the Court already. 

Damian’s face turned dangerous. Dick will have to watch out for that. Damian opens his mouth.

“No,” Dick signs, stopping Damian before he even starts. “We’re not going to go after them now. Go get Alfred, then get packing.”

“Packing?” Damian asks, perplexed.

“This place is compromised already. We’re moving to the Manor.”

***

[milliondollarbaby87]

From Gotham’s White Knight to Two-Face

“You either die a hero, or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain”

This was something uttered by the new Gotham district attorney not long after he had begun to get involved with the true low life and scum of the city. Predicting his very own future something that he probably wouldn’t have even believed himself. Happy with his life and how everything just seemed to be falling into place for his professional and personal life. Although his turn to become the villain would not be well known and his death was used to highlight the good side and not the monster that he had become. Rachel’s death pushed him to a very dark place very quickly, going from the incredible hero making such a difference to then going about avenging her death with the traitors within the police force to the mob and more importantly to The Joker.

I have watched The Dark Knight many times now and on a recent cinema trip to eventually witness it in all the IMAX glory it got me thinking about Harvey Dent. Thinking about how we don’t really talk about him that much when discussing The Dark Knight. I mean we all know why because Heath Ledger’s Joker is utterly breathtaking and scene stealing. But that is not meant to take away anything from Aaron Eckhart and the marvellous performance he puts in as Harvey Dent and then later Two-Face. I would even go as far saying it is one of the most impressive turns from good to evil as a character within Nolan’s trilogy. While some characters are walking a fine line between the good side of them and the bad side of them. Dent completely goes from one extreme to the other in dramatic fashion.

Batman highlights to Jim Gordon that Dent was the very best of them and that was the reason why The Joker wanted to bring him down. The toughest target and to prove the point that everyone could be corrupted and changed if you managed to push them far enough. Obviously Dent had no idea that Bruce Wayne was Batman, so the link with Rachel was rather awkward for Wayne. Immediately Dent wanted to get to meet Batman and when the press conference is called he did not actually want the man behind the mask to step forward. Sacrificing himself in hope that Batman would indeed to the right thing in saving him.

A small joke made by Rachel about how terrified Harvey was of the trust fund brigade, but this was very interesting to see unfold when he could not cope with Bruce Wayne and his pals. The fundraiser that was thrown in his honour was something that he did not really want to do or attend. Which shows his character in different situations as he was quite happy going up against the mob and criminals of Gotham even having a gun pointed at him in court not effecting him as much as the rich socialites of the city.

The panic of trying to free himself from being tied up whilst also talking to his love Rachel was never going to end well. A very cruel technique used as they both left with people they trusted and woke up tied up, with a timer and being able to speak to each other. Having to try and reassure the other that everything was going to be ok. That was far from the truth as Batman and Gordon attempted to get the locations of the pair. Falling into oil drums and being stuck on the floor with the oil, mixed with fire was never going to be a good combination, especially as he also had to say goodbye to Rachel.

The build up to seeing him physically injured from the incident was rather impressive, as we see that his nickname given when he was working internal affairs was about to become very true. He really had become Two-Faced. But while visually we can see he has changed the important thing to really focus on is that as a person his spirit was well and truly broken. So much so that he would never be the same again, especially when it comes to the choices he makes when seeking revenge. I also feel it is possible that his new outlook on life links with how he looks, so with his features being destroyed by the oil people will expect him to be a monster.

We instantly see him become the villain when waking up with his face melted off basically, then seeing his coin on the bedside table knowing that Rachel was not saved. She had his double headed coin, something that she did not realise to begin with when he loved leaving things to chance. Now though the coin would also become a symbol of his new dark side, one side of the coin had been burnt. This was one of his trademarks of leaving things to chance, although in his lighter days he always said heads for what he wanted the outcome to be knowing that was the only option. Now it would become a sinister game and first used with none other than The Joker, something he certainly likes very much!

In that very sense The Joker had already won, he took Gotham’s real hero with a face and proud to represent and be changing the city, not needing a mask like Batman and destroyed everything about him. Taking away someone you love being the worst possible thing to happen. That is what he cannot deal with at all, after the encounter with The Joker and managing to escape the hospital before it was blown up he sets on his way to find the people responsible and involved in Rachel’s death. Picking them off one by one and letting the coin decide, as soon as he makes the first kill it is sure that he will never be the white knight again.

The turning on Jim Gordon and forcing him to lie to his family, holding his young son at gun point. That really is one very dark turn right? Especially when Batman seems to take forever to arrive. Anyway the final scene and moments with Dent really show that he had become the evil monster, the villain that he predicted right at the start of the film. Although Batman was not going to allow the world to know about Harvey Dent becoming the villain, he was symbol in a different way to the dark knight and everyone just needed to continue the good work he started.

The Dark Knight: The Rise and Fall of Harvey Dent From Gotham’s White Knight to Two-Face “You either die a hero, or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain”

[jasontoddiefor]

More thoughts about the Secretary Catherine Todd AU

Jason is roughly 4 nearly 5 when Bruce almost bleeds out in the Todd’s living room

Catherine becomes responsible for the Wayne Enterprises Interns

She always kept cookies around for Jason but then she starts handing them out to stressed college students as well and they all love her

She drinks coffee most of the time but do not disturb when she’s drinking herbal Tea bc that means she’s actually stressed

Listen, Bruce says Batman Inc was his idea but Catherine complained very loudly very often about how much easier it would be to hide Batman’s cash if he were legal

Bruce Wayne and his ward-turned-adopted-son regularly attend Jason’s theatre group’s plays. People stopped wondering and asking. They always bring scones.

Once Catherine gets the job, she moves into a new apartment and sets up a savings account for Jason - even before she sets out to buy new clothes or anything. Her baby will go to college and fulfill all dreams he might ever have

When Jason is 6, Willis gets out of jail and Catherine finally gets the divorce she should have filled for years ago

Jason is kept out of it to the best of everyone’s ability. Dick teaches him how to cartwheel. He bakes with Bruce and cooks with Alfred.

Catherine needs some friends. A chance meeting with Crystal Brown might be pushing it, but Lucius Fox, Selina Kyle and Lois Lane are totally reasonable.

Diana just shows up one day.

Catherine doesn’t know how this is her life but there’s a Non-Hero-Family members support group and she attends the monthly meet-ups even before Jason becomes Robin

Bruce is her boss and then her best friend and nothing’s quite as much fun as doing present shopping with him and despair over which tea to buy for Alfred’s Maybe-Maybe-Not-Birthday

[thedeaditeslayer]

Q&A with Bruce Campbell: He’ll host his ‘Last Fan Standing’ at ECON on Saturday.

Here’s an interview from last week that we here at TDS recommend to Bruce Campbell and Evil Dead fans.

The fourth-ever EUCON: Eugene Comic Con is just around the corner, and this year it’s going to be bigger than ever, full of fresh programming and infused with new direction and energy, says artistic director Zachary Davis.

The pop-culture convention is under new management from Davis and his team at Imagination International, Inc., and they’ve wrangled a host of local, indie and big-name artists and celebrities, including actor, writer and director Bruce Campbell and his traveling game show, “Last Fan Standing.” Campbell is best known for his character Ash Williams in Sam Raimi’s “The Evil Dead” movie series, which thrust him onto the Hollywood scene in 1981.

“I want to see what Eugene’s all about as far as comic cons go. It’ll be a whole new experience,” Campbell told The Register-Guard. “I’ve only done Portland. Comic cons are the new rage now.”

Ash and “The Evil Dead” have garnered a cult following, and Campbell’s lengthy career has taken him from B-horror movies and Syfy channel movies, to recurring roles in popular ’90s TV series such as “Hercules: The Legendary Journey” and “Xena: Warrior Princess,” to roles in all three of Raimi’s blockbuster “Spiderman” movies, and a co-starring role in USA’s seven-season TV show, “Burn Notice.” He’s authored three books and is now hosting a pop-culture trivia game show, which will be played on Saturday at EUCON.

The Register-Guard interviewed Campbell by phone Tuesday from his home in Jacksonville about life in the Oregon countryside, finally laying to rest his Ash character with the cancellation of TV series “Ash v. Evil Dead,” and his pursuits as a writer, a game show host and actor. The interview has been edited for clarity and length.

Register-Guard: Can you tell me about your connection to Oregon? You’ve lived here for quite some time.

Bruce Campbell: Twenty years this year. My primary residence has been Oregon for 20 years — not that I was here that much, but when I’m home this is it.

RG: Why did you choose Oregon?

B.C.: A lot of reasons. My mother dabbled in real estate in this area — she sort of retired with her husband in this area, and so I came up to visit and she faxed me some places to look around — back in the day of faxes — and this is about the third, fourth place we saw out in the country, and just the hair on the back of my neck stood on end.

It’s mountain scenery and isolation and quiet. You don’t get that when you live in Los Angeles, you know. You go to work, everything’s crazy and noisy, and then you come back to L.A. everything’s crazy and noisy — there was no break. When I look out my window here, there’s nothing. There’s no lights on the mountain. There’s no noise, there’s no traffic.

We’ve been invaded by the pot growers now. We’ve gone from beer and meth as the local standbys, to weed and wine. So we’re stepping up. People with weed and wine have cash, and they tend to stimulate the local economy more than people who drink beer and do meth, with all due respect to our meth heads. Stoners don’t tend to go out and beat people up.

RG: Do you have any weird or strange stories to share about living in the country?

BC: Of course. The best reference I can tell you is my third book, “Hail to the Chin, the Further Confessions.” There’s chapters all about moving from L.A. to here — there’s all kinds of car crashes and drama and serving on jury duty. It’s a lot of simple pleasures.

’Cause my daughter is a California kid — born in Michigan, but raised in California — she came up here to visit. We did some errands, and we park at the bank, right in the lot. Go inside, there’s two guys in line — hey Joe, hey Ken — saying hi to the tellers, no ghetto glass — go outside, you gotta go to ... a place that’s usually busy, park right out front, go in, get our stuff and leave. She’s like, “So is that how it works in this town — you just sort of do stuff, and it happens?” It’s like “Yeah,” because when you’re not completely and utterly overcrowded, this is what life can be like. It’s kinda nice.

So I’ll actually never go back to civilization. Because my idea of civilization is the 24-hour available little toilets in my little town of Jacksonville. That’s how you know your town is livable. When they trust their citizens enough to have (those public bathrooms). Jacksonville is my last stop before I head out into the country, and sometimes those bathrooms are really handy. You know, lousy weather and strange times of night, you stop in there, heated, that tells me that the town trusts me enough to not totally destroy it every time I use.

But now Portland, I don’t think they have those.

RG: Now that “Ash v. Evil Dead” is officially cancelled, how do you feel about finally letting Ash go?

BC: Good. I’ve retired him. I’ve officially retired from playing that role — never done that with a character before. It feels great because it’s time to move on. I physically kind of got to the point where I can’t do that guy anymore. Hamstrings tear and they stretch, your eyes go your hearing goes, everything goes eventually. So I think it’s time to do game shows, you know? Time to put the chainsaw down — I’m a 60 year old man.

RG: Can you tell me a little bit about your game show?

BC: It is “Last Fan Standing” It is a game show for geeks. We’re going to ask how much does Thor’s hammer weigh? It’s not about history or geography, you don’t have to add a “what is” to the beginning of your answer. You just answer. And everybody plays. Everybody who walks in that door can take it on because they’re each given a voting device. (There’s) about 15 early questions ... and they vote. At the end we tally who’s got the best scores, we pick that clicker number and they’re up and running. We do two rounds of that, cook it down to two winners of each round, and then we do a seven question sort of battle to the death and somebody walks out of there with an amazing gift, which I can’t reveal. It’s too amazing.

RG: Why do you like being the host? Is it fun for you? Is it work? Is it both?

BC: No, I like tormenting people! You find out where they’re from, what these people do. We’ve had school teachers, students, college professors, tattoo artists. It’s really anybody from any walk of life, men, women, we’ve had some younger folks, so it’s been really fun taking it around to conventions and testing it out. So what we started doing this year was booking it in an actual theater like a performance arts venue, 400 or 500 seats and just doing it that way, like it’s an evening show. It’s a two-hour evening show, people realize they can have a lot of fun they can interact they can shout and holler because if our panelist can’t get the question — you’d be surprised how often they can’t even though they got up there — we throw ’em out to the audience, and I give out autographed “Bruce Bucks,” that’s fake dollar bills. Fake hundreds. So they still play, everybody plays. We’ve had some people come up, they got in the second round too. So it’s kinda crazy.

There’s come-from-behind wins the way it’s structured. My partner Steve Sellery, he’s the guy that first introduced me to this format, but ... he was doing it for military bases, it was all military trivia. I went to host a show for him so I said, “Hey, this format could work in my world.” It was really fun, these soldiers were all shouting at each other, and it was very competitive. I thought, “Man, you could do the same thing.” Three years ago, Steve called me up to see if I would host this charity show for the troops at the Fort Sam Houston base in San Antonio, Texas. And it was great. We had 600 soldiers, forced attendance, all in uniform. And this game just blew the doors off — these guys were acting like regular civilians by the end.

So we experimented there and I thought it could be taken elsewhere, and so we’ve been shopping it around, and eventually I’m going to try to get it made as an actual real TV show.

RG: So we might actually see it on air someday?

BC: That’s my goal. We’ve been honing it and refining it and tweaking it so we’re going to finish this run of performances. I’ve got three or four other cities to go, and then we’re done.

RG: So Eugeneans will have the chance to come out and see this before it really gets started?

BC: That’s right. Play it now while you still can!

RG: I heard that you consider yourself selectively retired, is that true?

BC: Selective — that’s a good way to put it. I’m not retired, it just takes more to get me off the mountaintop now.

RG: What kind of projects besides this game show project are you working on?

BC: “Lodge 49,” a new show for AMC, I just did that for their first season. I just did three episodes of that, and they’re back for another season. I’m not sure about my character, he’s mostly dead by the end of it. But you know, I’m looking for quality stuff. Paul Giamatti, he’s one of the producers, the writing was great, they just had really good people working on this show, and that’s kind of what I’m looking for. I’m not really looking for more movies for the Syfy channel.

RG: No more of those, huh?

BC: I think I’m good. I think I’ve done with my last “Alien Apocalypse.”

RG: What are some of the things you actually pay attention to and are interested in as far as pop culture, since we’re going to be at comic con. What are some things that grab your attention?

BC: Not much. I’m an entertainer. My job is to entertain. I don’t have to know what the answers to these questions are, and I don’t. I don’t know the answers to them. I watched very mainstream stuff as a kid. My buddy Sam Raimi actually read “Spiderman” comics. I read a comic called “Sad Sack.” The guy was a loser grunt in WWII. He was always peeling potatoes. That’s what I was more interested in, the stories of the average schmoe, which is why Ash appealed to me, because he had no special skills. He was just his guy who worked at S-Mart.

That’s what appealed to me, playing real characters and, you know, acting in modern day movies is a very special skill, it’s very technical, and I got tired of looking at tennis balls on sticks. There’s the monster! Now it’s over here — OK 3-2-1 — shake the camera and blow the thing and hit the blood! You know, none of it is just letting a scene play out. Whenever you have any kind of monster fighting or special effects, you go shot by shot, not scene by scene, and it can be very disconcerting. You don’t know where you are in the piece of this big puzzle. It gets a little boring.

RG: One of my favorite films I think I’ve seen you in is “Bubba Ho-Tep.”

BC: Yeah it’s a cool little movie.

RG: What is one of your favorite roles acting?

BC: Well that’s more for the pundits but Bubba was top five, “Evil Dead” movies top 5, like the Hercules and Xena character, Autolycus, King of Thieves... a lot of kids spent their Saturdays watching those shows. “The Adventures of Brisco County Jr.” was a very brief one-off but really cool, ahead of its time, kind of steampunk western, so there’s been some fun stuff.

The longer you hang around, good stuff shows up. And you learn what not to look for anymore. And you learn the warning signs of trouble. Like when you make a couple of bad movies, you log in the back of your mind, why they were so bad, even yourself included, and you say to yourself, “OK, how do we avoid that?” But as a young actor you just say yes to everything. So it’s just a matter of being pickier now. Way pickier.

RG: What is the worst movie experience you’ve had?

BC: Well, it’s no fun pointing those out, but I would just say that it’s usually a combination... I’ll give you one example where I said no and I’m glad I did. Sci-fi script comes in. Tons of effects. Tons of action. You know, this, that and the other thing. So I say to myself, “OK yeah, you’re going to really need a journeyman director, that’s a lot of moving parts, to pull this off.” OK, who’s directing? It’s a first-time guy who wrote the script. Right there the bells go off. And you go, “First-time guy, who’s going to handle this...?” As my own director, I go, this would be challenging to someone with experience. And writers generally, in my opinion, make terrible directors because they have no sense of how a set works and they’re not great communicators because they sit in front of a frickin’ monitor all day long. ... Then I go, “OK, First-Time Guy, I get it. How long is this shoot?” And I know from knowing production what is a long shoot, what is a medium shoot and what is a short shoot, and they go, “Three weeks.” I’m like, “I’m out.” ... Because the producers now, now I blame the producers, they need to give this guy the most amount of time he possibly has. So that combo platter right there, I went “Pass. Just pass. Not interested.” So that’s what you learn. Years ago I’d say yes and then you go, “Geez what a ... fight that was,” you know what I mean?

RG: Do you think Ash’s ‘everyman’ qualities have maintained the popularity of the “Evil Dead” series?

BC: Yeah. Because people are shouting at the screen “You idiot, what are you doing?” You know he makes horrible mistakes because it’s not his job, he’s not a superhero, wasn’t born to it even though, in some ancient books, his picture is in it. So, it was fun to play the normal guy but then know that there were spiritual undertones, which is kind of cool. Because he is there to save the world. He’s been foretold as ‘The Guy.’ We were glad to be able to go back and revisit it with more experience, because the irony of my life is that I’m best known for the role of Ash in the first “Evil Dead” movie where I had no experience. So it’s nice to go back and go, “OK ... it’s 25 years later, I got some skills now. Now let’s take on this character and try and blow him into a three-dimensional character out of a two-dimensional situation.” So that’s what it was fun about it. But it was difficult because we’re older. Things tear.

RG: Well, it’s a very high-action TV show.

BC: Very much so, I had the hardest-working stuntman in show business, Raicho Vasilev.

RG: And you got to work with Lucy Lawless, how was that?

BC: Well it’s always great, always has been, for 20 years I’ve worked with her. She’s one of the good ones, as they say. Lee Majors as my dad? Who can top that? Frickin’ Bionic Man is my dad.

RG: What is it like having this celebrity status attributed to you as one of the most popular B-movie actors, what do you think about that?

BC: It’s impossible for me to quantify it. It’s not for me to say. It’s always nice to not wallow in obscurity — I didn’t get into the business to do that. But you don’t know where it’s going to go. That’s why you’ve got to be mellow about the whole thing. I have no idea what’s going to happen tomorrow in this industry, and it’s changing all the time: the way they make movies, the way they deliver them, the types of movies they’re making. I think I’m just going to enter into the game show phase of my career and see where it goes.

RG: What do you think it is about you that has built such a loyal fanbase, especially with the “Evil Dead?”

BC: Just relatable characters. You’ve got to have a character people will relate to. There’s some actors who will remain nameless who — they don’t let you in. Their performance won’t let you into their world. They’re putting up a sheen. And I think it’s all fine and pretty to look at, but you know, you got to have more. There’s got to be more to it, even an idiot like Ash. You’ve got to have more to it. That’s why we introduced Ash’s daughter. We meet his family, we start to play on a little bit bigger reason why he’s here, what his purpose is. When you look at someone on screen I think you want to go, “Wow, God, I’d love to have a beer with that guy,” or if it’s a woman, “Man, what a great girlfriend she would be.” Stuff like that. It’s just a personal thing too, and every actor evolves into whoever they are by a certain set of circumstances. Some good, some bad.

RG: In the latest phase of your career you’ve turned to writing books. Why become a writer? What is it about writing that you like?

BC: I love books because there’s no shifts. You make a movie, and especially a high-price movie, there’s a lot of people with opinions who are very bossy all the time. And they will hound you about the smallest little things, little changes, and they have to justify their positions as assistant this or executive this or sub-pseudo-quasi this. And when you write a book, you know, I get on the phone with my editor, and they go, “Hey this one chapter, you sound a little pissed off, was that what you want?” I go, “Yeah, I can tone that down.” And I’d tone it down, it’d take about 20 minutes and then I’m done and we never have another word.

I spent more time with my lawyer than my editor because of the (crap) that they care about. But the process is really great, it’s really rewarding creatively, and financially they don’t (mess) around. They know how to add and subtract in publishing. For some reason in movies they’ve forgotten the ability to add and subtract. It’s a much more straightforward — you call someone in publishing, they call you back. You call someone in movies, you know it’s like their assistant will get back to you a week later, and they’ll run by three dates of where they could have a conversation. You know, just call me back. So I like the old-school nature of publishing. It’s getting pretty modern, but the people involved are very straightforward. They’re in it for the literature, not for the limousines....

RG: So do you write at your Oregon home?

BC: Yes. I have an office that’s just about completed. I’m so excited it’s just about impossible to be patient. It’s a brand-new setup where I can get busy in 2019. There’s going to be a lot of writing in 2019.

RG: What can we look forward to?

BC: New book. I’m going to tour in 2020, it’s a book of essays, it’ll be something a little different. If you want to be a real writer you can’t just talk about the wacky times you got dumped with blood on a film set.

RG: Well that was probably a pretty good starting point, they say write what you know about.

BC: Now I’m going to write what I don’t know about.

[newstfionline]

Gen Z Is Coming to Your Office

By Janet Adamy, WSJ, Sept. 6, 2018

Sean McKeon was 11 years old when the 2008 financial crisis shot anxiety through his life in Hudson, Ohio. He remembers his father coming home stressed after the Federal Deposit Insurance Corp. took over the bank where he worked. A teacher asked classmates if their parents cut back that Christmas. They all said yes.

That unsettling time shaped the job plans he hatched in high school. “I needed to work really hard and find a career that’s recession-proof,” says Mr. McKeon, now 21. He set his sights on a Big Four accounting firm. He interned at EY in Cleveland and will become an auditor there after graduating from Miami University in Oxford, Ohio, next year.

About 17 million members of Generation Z are now adults and starting to enter the U.S. workforce, and employers haven’t seen a generation like this since the Great Depression. They came of age during recessions, financial crises, war, terror threats, school shootings and under the constant glare of technology and social media. The broad result is a scarred generation, cautious and hardened by economic and social turbulence.

Gen Z totals about 67 million, including those born roughly beginning in 1997 up until a few years ago. Its members are more eager to get rich than the past three generations but are less interested in owning their own businesses, according to surveys. As teenagers many postponed risk-taking rites of passage such as sex, drinking and getting driver’s licenses. Now they are eschewing student debt, having seen prior generations drive it to records, and trying to forge careers that can withstand economic crisis.

Early signs suggest Gen Z workers are more competitive and pragmatic, but also more anxious and reserved, than millennials, the generation of 72 million born from 1981 to 1996, according to executives, managers, generational consultants and multidecade studies of young people. Gen Zers are also the most racially diverse generation in American history: Almost half are a race other than non-Hispanic white.

With the generation of baby boomers retiring and unemployment at historic lows, Gen Z is filling immense gaps in the workforce. Employers, plagued by worker shortages, are trying to adapt.

LinkedIn Corp. and Intuit Inc. have eased requirements that certain hires hold bachelor’s degrees to reach young adults who couldn’t afford college. At campus recruiting events, EY is raffling off computer tablets because competition for top talent is intense.

Companies are reworking training so it replicates YouTube-style videos that appeal to Gen Z workers reared on smartphones.

“They learn new information much more quickly than their predecessors,” says Ray Blanchette, CEO of Ruby Tuesday Inc., which introduced phone videos to teach young workers to grill burgers and slow-cook ribs. Growing up immersed in mobile technology also means “it’s not natural or comfortable for them necessarily to interact one-on-one,” he says.

Demographers see parallels with the Silent Generation, a parsimonious batch born between 1928 and 1945 that carried the economic scars of the Great Depression and World War II into adulthood while reaping the rewards of a booming postwar economy in the 1950s and 1960s. Gen Z is setting out in the workplace at one of the most opportune times in decades, with an unemployment rate of 4%.

“They’re more like children of the 1930s, if children of the 1930s had learned to think, learn and communicate while attached to hand-held supercomputers,” says Bruce Tulgan, a management consultant at RainmakerThinking in Whitneyville, Conn.

Gen Z’s attitudes about work reflect a craving for financial security. The share of college freshmen nationwide who prioritize becoming well off rose to around 82% when Gen Z began entering college a few years ago, according to the University of California, Los Angeles. That is the highest level since the school began surveying the subject in 1966. The lowest point was 36% in 1970.

The oldest Gen Zers also are more interested in making work a central part of their lives and are more willing to work overtime than most millennials, according to the University of Michigan’s annual survey of teens.

“They have a stronger work ethic,” says Jean Twenge, a San Diego State University psychology professor whose book “iGen” analyzes the group. “They’re really scared that they’re not going to get the good job that everybody says they need to make it.”

Just 30% of 12th-graders wanted to be self-employed in 2016, according to the Michigan survey, which has measured teen attitudes and behaviors since the mid-1970s. That is a lower rate than baby boomers, Gen X, the group born between 1965 and 1980, and most millennials when they were high-school seniors. Gen Z’s name follows Gen X and Gen Y, an early moniker for the millennial generation.

College Works Painting, which hires about 1,600 college students a year to run small painting businesses across the country, is having difficulty hiring branch managers because few applicants have entrepreneurial skills, says Matt Stewart, the Irvine, Calif., company’s co-founder.

“Your risk is failure, and I do think people are more afraid of failure than they used to be,” he says.

A few years ago Mr. Stewart noticed that Gen Z hires behaved differently than their predecessors. When the company launched a project to support branch managers, millennials excitedly teamed up and worked together. Gen Z workers wanted individual recognition and extra pay. The company introduced bonuses of up to $3,000 to encourage them to participate.

After seeing their millennial predecessors drown in student debt, Gen Z is trying to avoid that fate. The share of freshmen who used loans to pay for college peaked in 2009 at 53% and has declined almost every year since, falling to 47% in 2016, according to the UCLA survey.

Denise Villa, chief executive of the Center for Generational Kinetics in Austin, says focus groups show some Gen Z members are choosing less-expensive, lower-status colleges to lessen debt loads. Federal Reserve Bank of New York data show that nationwide, overall student loan balances have grown at an average annual rate of 6% in the past four years, down sharply from a 16% annual growth rate in the previous decade.

Lana Demelo, a 20-year-old in San Jose, Calif., saw her older sister take on debt when she became the first person in their family to attend college. “I just watched her go through all those pressures and I felt like me personally, I didn’t want to go through them,” says Ms. Demelo. She enrolled in Year Up, a work training program that places low-income high-school graduates in internships, got hired as a project coordinator at LinkedIn and attends De Anza College in Cupertino part-time.

Gen Z is literally sober. Data from the Michigan survey and federal statistics show they were less likely to have tried alcohol, gotten their driver’s licenses, had sex or gone out regularly without their parents than teens of the previous two or three generations, Ms. Twenge, the San Diego State professor, found.

They grew up trusting adults, and Gen Z employees want managers who will step in to help them handle uncomfortable situations like conflicts with co-workers and provide granular feedback, says Mr. Tulgan, the management consultant.

When Mr. Tulgan’s company surveyed thousands of Gen Z members about what mattered most to them at work, he heard repeatedly that they wanted a “safe environment.” He is advising clients to create small work teams so managers have time to nurture them.

“I was in no rush to get a driver’s license,” says Joshua Berja, a 21-year-old San Francisco resident who waited until he turned 18 to get one. He lives with his parents to save money, runs errands for his mother and picks his father up from work.

Gen Z is reporting higher levels of anxiety and depression as teens and young adults than previous generations. About one in eight college freshmen felt depressed frequently in 2016, the highest level since UCLA began tracking it more than three decades ago.

That is one reason EY three years ago launched a program originally called “are u ok?”--now called “We Care”--a companywide mental health program that includes a hotline for struggling workers.

Mr. Stewart, of College Works Painting, says he wasn’t aware of any depressed employees 15 years ago but now deals frequently with workers battling mental-health issues. He says he has two workers with bipolar disorder that the company wants to promote but can’t “because they’ll disappear for a week at a time on the down cycle.”

Smartphones may be partly to blame. Much of Gen Z’s socializing takes place via text messages and social media platforms--a shift that has eroded natural interactions and allowed bullying to play out in front of wider audiences.

In the small town of Conneaut Lake, Penn., Corrina Del Greco and her friends joined Snapchat and Instagram in middle school. Ms. Del Greco, 19, checked them every hour and fended off requests for prurient photos from boys. She shut down her social media accounts after deciding they “had a little too much power over my self-esteem,” she said.

That has helped her focus on studying at Embry-Riddle Aeronautical University in Daytona Beach, Fla., to become a software engineer, a career she sees as recession-proof. When the last downturn hit, she remembers cutting back on gas and eating out because her parents’ music-lesson business softened.

“I learned a lot about the value of money,” she says. “I’ve always wanted to have a very secure lifestyle, secure income.”

She says the negative experience with social media made her want a professional LinkedIn page, and she took a seminar at college to learn how to do that.

The flip side of being digital natives is that Gen Z is even more adept with technology than millennials. Natasha Stough, Americas campus recruiting director at EY in Chicago, was wowed by a young hire who created a bot to answer questions on the company’s Facebook careers page.

To lure more Gen Z workers, EY rolled out video technology that allows job candidates to record answers to interview questions and submit them electronically.

Getting employees comfortable with face-to-face interactions takes work, Ms. Stough says. “We do have to coach our interns, ‘If you’re sitting five seats away from the client and they’re around the corner, go talk to them.’”

Mr. McKeon, the Ohio student, sees a silver lining growing up during tumultuous times. He used money from his grandfather and jobs at McDonald’s and a house painting company to build a stock portfolio now worth about $5,000. He took school more seriously knowing that “the world’s gotten a lot more competitive.”

“With any hardship that people endure in life, they either get stronger or it paralyzes them,” Mr. McKeon says. “These hardships have offered a great opportunity for us to get stronger.”

[thingr1]

Focus on the Fallout (2/2)

Rating: T

Warnings: Depression, suicidal thoughts, past suicide attempt.

Characters: Tim Drake, Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson, basically entire Batfam.

Preview: *See first chapter*

Cross posted: FFN and AO3 (6-16-17). (A/N found on both sites)

Prequels: Of Milkshakes and Marathons (recommended, but not necessary) and Weighing One’s Worth (essential to understanding story.)

First Chapter: Here

It wasn't hard to tell that something was wrong.

The family—this dysfunctional, emotionally constipated family—was acting strange. More distant than normal.

Whispered conversations that ended the moment Tim crossed the threshold. Flashes of emotion caught by the corners of his eyes every time Tim glanced away. Shadows of footprints outside the door of whatever room Tim happened to be slouched in. Flutters of movement and spots of color (black, blue, red) in the darkness, tailing him as he patrolled.

That had been Tim’s reality for the past two weeks.

Everyone trying to pretend everything was normal, yet side eying Tim like something fragile, something broken, when they thought he was looking the other way.

There was only one possible explanation for this collectively strange behavior.

They knew. Every single one. And if it wasn't for the fact that he was probably (definitely) under tight surveillance at the moment, he would seriously consider another bullet to his brain from shame. Maybe jump off the roof. That is, if embarrassment itself didn't beat him to the punch.

Sinking back against the mattress of his too-big bed, Tim sighed to the blank white ceiling.

Why? Dick's big mouth... Just, why?

Tim knew Dick was only trying to help. But the thing was, they weren't Dick's secrets to share. Heck, even Damian betrayed him in the end—to the loosest jaw of the Wayne bunch, no less—when push came to shove. Which…actually wasn’t that surprising.

He felt like he was walking on eggshells. Like an outsider—no, a pretender in his own home. As if he'd ever really called Wayne Manor his home in the first place...

Tim hated feeling this exposed, baring his soul to the world. This was going to come back to bite him, someone was going to take advantage of him all over again. And Tim didn’t think he could take it.

Because at the heart of it all, that was his problem, wasn’t it? Whenever he let anyone in, they either died or threw him away; in each sense, they betrayed him. And he was so so tired of it all. Which was a much more selfish admission than he usually allowed himself. (Then again, Tim had tried to kill himself a week ago, which kind of took the cake.)

But yet…at the same time…why did it feel like a huge weight had been taken off his shoulders? He shouldn’t be this relieved to have just unloaded his truckload of problems onto Dick Grayson’s shoulders.

Dick Grayson.

Who had taken Robin from him without even asking. Who had, how many years later, apologized for it. Had stopped pretending that everything between them was right as rain and outright admitted he was in the wrong.

It was mortifying.

Tim had failed somewhere. He had to’ve.

It probably had something to do with the fact he’d tried to off himself in the middle of the Manor, the one place where all the Bats could come and go as they pleased. The one place where there were eyes everywhere. It was careless of Tim to even think of attempting what he had in such a public place.

Unless…

Had…had he wanted someone to find him? Maybe…maybe that was why…

Tim shook his head violently, turning his face into his pillow in embarrassment.

No. He wasn’t going to psychoanalyze himself now. He’d tried to kill himself. It didn’t take. Now it was just a question of moving on.

…Which would have been so much simpler if his family’s actions didn’t make it that much more impossible to compartmentalize the self-destructive feelings back into a deep, dark corner of Tim’s mind that life usually kept him too busy to explore.

And yet, Tim couldn’t help the faint glow of hope that was slowly eating away at the darkness in his core. Maybe…maybe this time Dick would come through. Maybe this time would be different; maybe they could heal. If only that feeling wasn’t so often crushed by the realities of life. Then maybe Tim could bear to give it a chance.

No, he decided. Better to forget. Better to forget than to give his family the opportunity to screw up enough so Tim would have to juggle forgiving them (again) on top of it all, too. He’d figure this out on his own. Like he always did.

Without warning, his door slammed back on its hinges.

Tim’s skin prickled, muscles seizing, panic shredding through every inch of his flesh in the form of adrenaline as he whirled, wild-eyed, to face the intruder.

Damian stood in the doorway, arms crossed over he chest, giving Tim a strange sense of déjà vu.

"Your presence is required downstairs, Drake,” the child reported, pompous as always.

Tim glared. (Internal terror revealing itself in a rather Jason Todd style: Anger.) “For what? An interrogation?”

Damian snorted. "Nothing so crude. It is…” The boy’s nose wrinkled in disgust. “‘Family Bonding,’ Grayson is calling it. Everyone is required to attend.”

"And why should I trust you?” The words spilled out before Tim could stop them.

The former assassin’s eyes narrowed. Assessing.

After a moment, Damian’s jaw set, cobalt eyes almost glaring in their intensity. "I swear to you that no one is judging you for your moment of weakness. In fact, if I see so much as a pitying glance, I will mash that person’s nose into their face myself. Just…come downstairs. Please.”

Which was…actually half-decent as far as politeness went for the demon child.

Tim…hesitated. A trap. It had to be… No.

Those eyes so like his father’s screamed sincerity, even though Damian’s features remained studiously blank. Though he was many things, Damian Wayne was not a liar. Something Tim both hated and respected about the fifth Robin.

And after…that night…something between the two of them had changed. For the first time since they’d met, they understood each other; they’d caught a glimpse of who they were behind the masks and facades. Their insecurities exposed to the person they hated most.

It was…freeing somehow.

(Dick had always told him that all Damian wanted was acceptance; and for the first time, Tim might just believe it.)

No. Damian wouldn’t betray him like this. (Not again, anyway.) The others, on the other hand…

“Promise?” The word slipped out before Tim could stop it; small. Shaky. Weak.

Damian inclined his head. “You have my word.” Solemn. Straightforward. (So unlike his father.)

Tim sucked in a breath. Bit his lip. Squared his shoulders. “Fine.”

He was going to regret this.

The journey downstairs seemed to pass far too quickly. And yet, at the same time, it stretched long enough that Tim had far too much time to think.

Tim couldn't...shouldn't...didn't want to face his family. Didn’t want to see the looks on their faces at the realization that their toy soldier was broken; unusable.

…Was he broken? Wasn’t that the question of a lifetime. One that Tim really didn’t care to answer; now, or ever.

Moving on.

(Why’d he even bother with a gun? His own brain was going to be the death of him.)

With a blink, Tim jerked back into reality as Damian slid into the lit doorway on the right of the hallway that Tim recognized as the living room without looking back. Clearly expecting Tim to follow.

Tim sucked in a breath. No. Don’t think about it.

Do this. He could do this.

Breath huffing in an almost sigh, Tim stepped around the doorframe and…

Everyone was looking at him.

And when he said everyone, he meant everyone. Dick, Damian, Alfred, Barbara, Steph, Cass, Jason, Titus.

Bruce.

The whole gang was here.

And they were staring.

Heat barely had time to brush Tim’s cheeks before the whole room erupted.

“Timmy!”

“Tim.”

“So good of you to join us, Master Tim.”

“‘Bout time you got here, the popcorn’s almost cold!”

“Hey, mind breaking the tie for us? We’ve narrowed it down to Monsters Inc. or Frozen…”

“Frozen?! Who said Frozen? I voted Inside Out!”

Through the cacophony of sound, lights, and general confusion, Cass materialized at his side, squeezing him in a hug, whispering “Love you,” and guiding him through the mass of people, popcorn, soda cans, pillows (from the bedrooms?), and movie cases to the couch before Tim could fully process what was happening.

And then Jason was wedged on the cushion next to him, throwing an arm over his shoulders. “Come on, Baby Bird, help me out here. Inside Out or Frozen?”

Tim blinked. Still in shock. “Tangled.”

Jason scowled. “Wow. You’re helpful.” Then, serious, poking Tim none too gently in the ribs, he hissed: “Bullets have more calories than milkshakes, y'know. Talk about hard to work off."

Tim flushed, a combination anger and embarrassment snapping him from his reverie. “That bar was a one time thing, Jay! I swear, is this going to keep coming up in every conversation?"

Jason raised an eyebrow. “Just so long as I never catch you at it again.” Then, in a low mutter Tim almost had to strain to hear: ”Call someone next time you start feeling self-destructive, 'kay, Baby Bird? We’ve all been there. We can help.“

Tim ducked his head; mortified (touched). "O...okay. Yeah."

Jason slapped Tim's shoulder with his free hand, reeling him in so Tim’s face smashed into him in a…a hug. "Good. We're marathoning Harry Potter next."

And...Tim's lips quirked upward. "Haven't seen those in awhile."

"Exactly, Tim. Exactly."

Dick Grayson’s voice suddenly erupted in his ear, causing Tim to jump: “Tim! Timmy! You voted Frozen, right?”

Jason stared, stiffening under Tim’s weight. “So you’re the one.”

Dick’s eyes widened. “Uh. No?”

The second Robin growled, reverberating through his chest where Tim’s face was still half smushed. “What did I tell you about Frozen?”

Dick’s eyes twinkled with the mischievous light that always preceded a particularly self-endangering statement: “That I need to ‘let it go’?”

There was a moment of pure, icy silence. Two. Three.

Broken by a laugh.

A laugh.

From Tim’s own mouth.

Another burst from his mouth without his consent. Then another. Suddenly, Tim was gripping his sides, tears welling in his eyes, shaking from the force of his own laughter.

Everyone was staring at Tim again, this time in open surprise; joy, fondness, maybe mixed with some concern for his mental health.

And for once, Tim didn’t mind it. Still chuckling, he snagged the pillow from the couch arm and rammed it into the nearest face: Dick Grayson’s. “Stuff that in your big mouth, Dick!”

There was a pause.

Then a mad cackle rent the air as Jason Todd hefted another pillow over his head. “You deserved that, Dickie!” Slammed the stunned man’s face with the makeshift weapon so hard, the seams burst. Tim almost winced.

Almost.

“Pillow fight!” Steph screamed gleefully, swiping an ancient throw pillow and slinging it into Jason in the same instant as Damian slung a blanket into the man’s abdomen. “For Arendelle!”

The room devolved into chaos as the rest of the family joined in; pillows flying, blankets cracking like whips, popcorn scattering.

And as the feathers swirled in the air around them, laughter carrying them to the ceiling, Tim realized that maybe—just maybe—he could stand to call this crazy mess of a family (life) his own after all.

[aion-rsa]

New Batman Coming from Fan-Favorite Marvel Writer

https://ift.tt/nVY50um

A new era begins for Batman and DC Comics in July. Comic Book has revealed that beloved Marvel writer Chip Zdarsky and Jorge Jimenez, one of the best artists working at DC Comics today, are teaming up as the new creative team of the main Batman series. Their run begins with Batman #125, an oversized issue that kicks off the “Failsafe” arc, which Zdarsky described in his newsletter as “Batman’s Doomsday. It’s non-stop action and puts Batman in a very different place by the end of it.”

According to Comic Book, “Failsafe” begins with Bruce suffering from nightmares of a future he thinks may come to pass, and he may not live long enough to stop it. The arc will feature a “startling enemy from Batman’s past” who intends to kill Batman once and for all.

“When DC approached me to write Batman, I immediately thought about things that could really challenge the character mentally, physically, and in terms of his relationships,” Zdarsky told Comic Book.

But Batman won’t have to face this new challenge alone. He’ll have former Boy Wonder and longtime partner Tim Drake by his side.

“The past few years have had a lot of Batman on his own, with so many (SO MANY) Robins, etc. in his orbit,” Zdarsky said. “But I wanted to really highlight the ‘Batman & Robin’ aspect of the characters while still maintaining the darker feel we’re going for. Tim Drake is a favorite of mine and being able to highlight him here has been a lot of fun.”

You can see the first piece of art featuring Zdarsky and Jimenez’s Batman and Robin below:

Zdarsky, who is best known for his celebrated run on Daredevil and Spider-Man: Life Story for Marvel, has actually been writing Batman stories for a little while now. He’s contributed stories to the Batman: Urban Legends anthology and is currently writing Batman: The Knight, which explores the early days of Bruce’s training to become the Caped Crusader. It remains to be seen if the events of The Knight will have any bearing on Zdarsky’s upcoming Batman run.

In his newsletter, Zdarksy confirmed that he’ll be staying on as the writer of Daredevil at Marvel as well, joking that this “could open up a ‘gritty-ninjaesque-white-dude-with-stubble-and-tragedy-on-a-gargoyle-in-the-rain’ wormhole in the space-time continuum and destroy all of reality.”

Zdarsky continued, “At least we know who is first in line for a Batman/Daredevil crossover now.” He’s kidding. (Although I’d really like to see that.)

Meanwhile, Jimenez has quickly become one of the most exciting Batman artists of DC’s Rebirth and Infinite Frontier eras, making a big splash in Scott Snyder’s Justice League before moving on to Batman with James Tynion IV. His horror-tinged work on “The Cowardly Lot” and “Fear State” arcs are must-reads for Batman fans, and it’s great to see him back on the book so soon.

“We talked about going darker with the book and he’s been all aboard, with some really stunning pages that showcase the tone,” Zdarsky said of partnering with Jimenez. “I honestly can’t say enough good things about Jorge. He creates beauty at an amazing speed.”

The creative team shake-up does come as a little bit of a surprise considering another DC all-star, Joshua Williamson, only just jumped on Batman last November with issue #118. He’s currently in the middle of his apparently six-issue run with artist Jorge Morales. The current Batman arc, titled “Abyss,” sees Bruce leave Gotham after the events of Tynion’s “Fear State” for an international adventure with Batman Inc. Williamson will follow up “Abyss” with the crossover event “Shadow War,” which will bring his Batman, Robin, and Deathstroke Inc. books together for a fight with Talia al Ghul and the League of Shadows. With several notable Batman stories already under his belt, including the very fun Batman-Flash crossovers he co-wrote with Tom King a few years ago, it’s a bit of a shame to see Williamson’s run on Batman end so soon.

“Very excited for what Zdarsky and Jimenez are doing with Batman starting at #125! Two amazing creators who are kicking ass and having fun. It’s awesome,” Williamson wrote on Twitter after the announcement, teasing that his days in Gotham aren’t completely over. “This was ALWAYS the plan. I’m done writing this Batman story, but I’m not done with Batman…”

Very excited for what @zdarsky and @JorgeJimenezArt are doing with BATMAN starting at #125! Two amazing creators who are kicking ass and having fun. It’s awesome. This was ALWAYS the plan. I’m done writing this Batman story, but I’m not done with Batman… pic.twitter.com/a7Z2AntcSD

— Joshua Williamson (@Williamson_Josh) February 24, 2022

Williamson is also writing this summer’s big Dark Crisis event that is expected to bring big changes to the entire DC line. Dark Crisis #0 arrives on May 7.

Batman #125, written by Zdarsky and drawn by Jimenez, is out on July 5.

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The post New Batman Coming from Fan-Favorite Marvel Writer appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Comics – Den of Geek https://ift.tt/dhIamlR

[redrobinfection]

Timmy in the Well

AN: TW for traumatic injury; see below for further notes. Many thanks to @chibinightowl for beta reading this for me!

"R-Red? Red Robin? Is that really you down there?"

The Red Hood squints down at the dark blob at the bottom of the old well then pulls out a small flashlight to double check. He's dropped his cowl and looks white as a sheet but, yeah, that is the current Red Robin, Timothy Drake.

"Ti-timbo, watcha doin' down there, buddy?" Jason chokes out, trying his hardest not to laugh at the literally downed man.

Tim glares up at him, squinting at the harsh light. "I fell. Why else would I be sitting at the bottom of a dry well?"

Jason can’t stop himself anymore and bursts out laughing. He yanks off his hood so he can wipe tears of mirth away from the corners of his eyes. "H-H-holy shit, Timmy, you fell down the well." He clutches at his sides. "Help, help, little Timmy is in the well! Somebody call Lassie!" He teases in a squeaky falsetto.

"You better not call Dick or I will make your life a living hell as soon as I get out of here," Tim threatens with the ghost of a grin, setting him off laughing all over again.

"Oh-oh-oh man…" Jason breathes, leaning into the well once he's caught his breath again, "I needed that laugh. Dick as Lassie, huh? I can totally see that. Is that why you called me instead of him, so he wouldn't call in the big B and maybe even the fire brigade, all to get little Timmy out of the well?"

Tim scowls but otherwise doesn’t deign to respond.

Jason clears his throat and tries to adopt a more serious tone. "I guess the better question is why you're still at the bottom of that well? You lose 'grappler one', 'spare grappler one', 'grappler two', 'spare grappler two' and-"

"Fuck you! I only have two grapplers, thank you very much," Tim bites back heatedly. "I'm sorry I'm not a suicidal maniac like you, only carrying the one."

Jason chortles because it’s half true. "So, what, did you lose both of them or something? I would have expected you to have at least started trying to climb out by now."

The younger man glares and then moves for the first time Jason can recall since he had arrived, raising a shaky hand to flip him off. Tim coughs with a wince and Jason sobers up quickly as he studies his replacement a little more carefully.

"What's the story, Pretender?" Jason asks, sweeping the flashlight around to try to see more. Tim turns his head away as if he were now trying to ignore the older vigilante, so Jason waves the flashlight around until the cramped space started to resemble some sort of impromptu rave.

"Ugh, stop it! Fuck! Why would I call you out - call anyone out at all - if I could climb out of this by myself?" Tim asks in a quavering tone, retching at the end of the hypothetical question. Jason freezes the light on him, getting a sinking feeling as he watches what he is now sure are the unintended side effects of his homemade strobe light. The kid probably has a concussion, at the very least.

"Replacement? Speak up, I can't hear you. Why're you still down there?"

"Fuck. You," Tim gasps, coughing. "I fucking fell okay? And now… I think…" - he blanches and swallows - "I think I shattered my right leg. I tried to move after I fell, but I must have blacked out because the next thing I knew it was an hour later and I was still at the bottom of this damn hole." He coughs again and sways, sending Jason into high alert. He does a quick tally of Tim’s injuries: definite broken leg, a probable concussion, and maybe a few cracked ribs - cracked if he is lucky; fully-fractured and puncturing a lung if he isn’t. Multiple sites of internal bleeding if Tim is truly down on his luck. Considering the circumstances, he doesn’t trust Tim’s luck. He raises a hand to activate his hardly-used comm, then pauses when Tim continues.

"I called you because I don't think I can get out of this on my own, as much as it pains me to admit," Tim explains with a weak grin. Jason shakes his head in disapproval at the poorly timed joke.

"No shit, Babybird. But why did you call me?" It was a legitimate question, and one he knew he needed to phrase carefully if he wanted an honest answer. "If you have a shattered leg you're probably gonna need that fire brigade. Why didn't you call Batman or the other Batman or even Batgirl?"

"What, so they could bring Robin along to finish me off? Or so my ex could freak out and call them all in to make a big deal over it? Jason. Please. No. I called you because I don't want to make a big deal out of this. I'm not Batman - I have friends - but I'm still trying to work through a lot of stuff right now and I don't need B or Dick trying to tell me to 'come home' or 'take some time' or whatever else they wanna say to me right now."

Jason blinks at the flood of words then shakes his head, commiserating but uncertain. "Tim, man, I hate to break it to you but this is kind of a big deal - the whole 'shattering a limb' thing, ya know - and you will, probably, need to, uhh, 'take some time'." He sighs and runs a hand through his sweat-damp hair. "Man, I don't even think I can get you out of this hole on my own without causing you some serious pain and possibly inflicting further damage. And can you imagine what Alfie's gonna say when he finds out you needed help and didn't turn to the family? Didn't turn to him?"

Tim blinks up at him with a deeply weary expression - Jason knows that feeling, totally feels him on that - and shakes his head in return, refusing to accept to the realities of his situation. They’ve reached an impasse and neither man seems willing to give, but Jason has the high ground - in more ways than one - and knows it. He crosses his arms on the coping of the well and waits. They stare at each other for a long minute before Tim finally sighs and gives in.

"I know. It's just… I just…" His eyes bore into Jason and Jason knows what he is going to say before the words cross his lips. "I just can't."

Jason gets that - he really, really gets that. ‘Been there, done that’ and all that jazz. He scrubs a hand over his face, groaning internally at what he doesn’t want, but can’t help but say next.

"Fine. If that's how you want to do this, then, sure, Replacement, just this once, I will haul you out of that well and I won't say a fucking word to the Batclan about any of this. But you better be ready for the flight of your life if you plan on concealing your injury from them entirely, or for the fight of your life if you intend on fending off Alfred once he finds out."

Jason tries to ignore the badly concealed look of relief on his replacement's face and also tries to suppress the voices screaming 'bad idea' and 'really, really bad idea' in his head as he begins rappelling down to the downed bird. He only said he'd haul him out of the well, but Jason knows he won't stop at that - there is no way Tim is getting home on his own and how the hell did he plan to set his own bones, anyway?

Tim is probably going to need at least one surgery, if not more, to correct and stabilize the bones, if he was right about how shattered his leg was. There is no way this was going to be a swift, easy fix. Not to mention all the other injuries he’s probably racked up. There is definitely no way in hell he is going to be able to avoid the family on this one.

Jason knows all that and mulls over it as he suspends himself over Tim and prepares to move him, but Jason knows it doesn't matter that he knows. He knows it won't even matter that he plans to tell Tim all about what he knows, sure as sugar, once Tim wakes up again (because he also knows Tim isn't gonna stay conscious for the move, even if he manages to dodge the sedative Jason plans to hit him with).

The truth won't matter until Tim accepts it too, so, for the time being, Jason resigns himself to wait. Resigns himself to wait and watch over another broken Robin until this one decides it's time to come home too.

AN: This set vaguely after the events of the pre-new 52 Red Robin series (2009-2011), in a Gotham in which Tim is still connected to, but distant from the Batfamily and Batman Inc. Bruce and Tim… aren't necessarily seeing eye-to-eye right now. Dick is still Batman, Damian is his Robin, Stephanie is Batgirl, and Bruce is the other Batman who is more concerned with Batman Inc than Gotham for the moment. Jason is the Red Hood and he is "reconciled" with the batfam, but, word of warning, he and Tim are not friends in this setting. Jason is still working out his feelings toward the "family"  and his "replacement". This work wasn't directly inspired by this, but my favorite headcanon for how Jason would feel during this period and how he would eventually reconcile to the batfam is laid out beautifully in All Roofs of Uncertainty by Kieron_ODuibhir; I highly recommend the work.

[sassasquashedgrapes]

Another Story: A Glee x Kissed by the Baddest Bidder Cross-over

It’s me again! Your friendly neighborhood, Squashed Grape.  

It’s been a while since I got into the fanfic (or any literal stuff) and decided to do some fan service today.  This is an old post but a goodie.  You see, I’ve been a fan of Glee during the early days and was also a huge Otome player (lol. the closest to player I’ll ever be).  And made this fanfic cross-over of sorts inspired from the Voltage Inc story, Kissed by the Baddest Bidder.  Actually I *might* have switched the names a bit and the plot line is from the intro except for a few tweaks.  Anyway, I just wanna lay it all down there so nobody starts yelling bloody murder.  

After all, wasn’t 50 Shades like some fan service to Twilight, so haters can just move along now, Nothing to see.  

So without much further ado, a short story cross-over for y’all!!

By the way, be prepared for a series of long fanfics of Glee coming at your way. This is only just the beginning of the Hargreave brothers.

click below

Another Story: Kissed By The Baddest Bidder/Glee Fanfic.

I’ve always been a huge fan of the otome game and the delicious notion of having someone used up for bidding, using the Glee characters seemed absolutely too good to resist.  How could I? So shall we? Elian “Ian” Hargreave – Eisuke Ichinomiya Mike Chang – Soryu Oh, the cool mobster Noah Puckerman – Mitsunari Baba, the philandering theif Kurt Hummel – Ota Kisaki , the artist. Lol I know, Ota doesn’t swing that way but I always pegged Ota as a closet anyway. Cooper Anderson – Mamuro Kishi, the lazy detective and of course: Lucy Quinn Fabray – MC

Quinn Fabray is different in this storyline.  I made a parallel universe of sorts, changing a bit of her past to make her come to her present future.  So instead of moving to McKinley High, Lucy Q. Fabray’s father, Russel, dies of a heart attack and thus her mother remarries another man who worked as a hotel concierge manager in one of the most prestigious hotels in New York, the fictional hotel/casino Wyndham, (loosely based on the Waldorf Astoria) which is owned by then the family of Elian Hargreave’s grandfather who eventually takes over the hotel after graduating from high school.  Quinn has grown up in the hotel, pretty much understanding and loving every detail and aspect of it, treating it as if it were her own family since she pretty much lead a lonely life in New York, being a small town girl from Ohio who turned out to grow into a beautiful young woman.  This storyline is inspired by the Otome route of Eisuke Ichinomiya, whom I think was the best storyline for someone like her.  I’m way too biased that I don’t think I want to share Soryu Oh with her, hahaha.  Fast forward to the present, Quinn just graduated from Yale, but is now working he as a chambermaid in the hotel to earn extra cash at the same time pay for her college loans while she looks for a job.  

Prologue: As I feel a trickle of sweat behind my back while being in the middle of the spotlight, I start to wonder as I stare into the crowd facing me “how on earth did I ever come to this?”

12 hours earlier

“Good morning,” I greet cheerfully as I swing open the door in locker room of the female changing hall as if I’ve done so many times over.  I’m working during the summer as a maid at a hotel owned by the Hargreave Group, which is a large company that owns banks, trading companies, locally and overseas.  

“Good morning, Lucy,” greets Marley, one of the maids who also works part-time in the hotel.  I know for a fact that she looks old enough to still be in highschool, but I’ve never bothered to pry into matters like gossip. As long as they keep to their business, I keep to mine.  But despite it, I feel like I could confide in her because she seems so open and nice.

“The VIP convention starts today.  I am super excited,” Marley grins as she mentions one of the annual big events the hotel/casino throws.  

“I’ll bet you’d be way too busy to get excited since you’ll be working at the casino floor,” I grin back thinking how exhausted I’m going to be once this convention is over.  I’ve been living in the Wyndham since I was 15 after my dad died and my mother remarried.  I’d come to love it as if it were my own family and was familiar with its daily routine until 4 years ago when it underwent a massive renovation into becoming the first hotel/casino in New York.  It had been quite a scandal at first, with government officials opposing the idea of bringing “Las Vegas” to the metropolis, but the whole issue died down after a while and for the last two years, the Wyndham, became New York’s first legal casino and hotel.

“Don’t you wish you could work at the IVC?” Marley was referring to the International VIP Convention, one of the newly annual conventions frequented by Hollywood A-list stars, World leaders, socialites and big time businessmen who gathered once a year to play at the casinos and have a go into dabbling in a world of glamour

“Yeah, that would be great.” I agreed quietly.

“Well, that’s the goal of everyone who works here.” Marley sighed as she hunkered on the bench and rested her elbow on her knee as she propped her head on her hand.  “I’ve been dreaming about it ever since I saw it on TV. Seeing movie stars, top athletes, and other super famous people all over the world gathered here in this party.  I even heard Perez Hilton was so pissed that he didn’t get an invite.”  She pursed her lips conspiratorially.

“You know, when I applied for this job a few months ago, I didn’t think I was going to be hired that I thought I was dreaming when I actually did.” Marley grinned happily.  I smiled feeling how infectious her mood was, she was so upbeat by the whole thing, I didn’t want to look like a kill joy so I agreed.

“Oh my god.” She stopped suddenly as if she had thought of something of real importance.  “What if some rich, famous guy falls in love with me at first sight?” I hope he knows you’re barely 18, I mentally think and almost utter it out loud but I stop myself and….

“Haha, keep dreaming.” I just say instead.  

Whew, that was close. Our VIP guests are important, but I also value working for our regular guests, too.  I had just graduated in a Marketing degree at Yale, but with the recession, jobs were scarcely handed and I didn’t feel the need to dabble in doing freebies as an Intern in a big corporation, when I could be earning much more doing it here in Wyndham.  It really isn’t so bad.  I really didn’t care that much about image anyway since moving to New York.  Somehow the anonymity of it all had liberated me from the confines of the shallowness that I had experienced living in Lima, Ohio that I didn’t give a damn anymore.

I thought about the IVC, the International VIP Convention, Wyndham’s largest annual event is today and the international publicity with the media hanging around the area was totally insane. Unlike Marley, I had actually dreaded this more because I knew things were busier and a lot more tense than usual.  My step-father, Charlie was one of the managers of the hotel and was in charge of the VIP guests lounge and had direct connections to the owner, Mr. Elian Hargreave.  I heard a lot about the new owner, how accomplished he was despite his young age. He was featured in Forbes magazine as the most successful businessman under 40 years of age (rumors had it that he couldn’t be more than 30 years old.)  He reminded me of a true-to-life Bruce Wayne, ridiculously handsome in a dark, mysterious way and was always surrounded by beautiful women.  I knew my sister, Fran was crushing on him big time that she even begged Charlie for an introduction, but to no avail.

As we left the locker room and head to the hotel lobby, where a crowd of reporters and onlookers gathered, people whom I’ve only seen on TV or on a movie screen started appearing, strutting as if they were meant to walk down the red carpet and enter the magnificent lobby as if it were from a Hollywood movie scene.

“Oh. My God.” Marley’s mouth literally hung wide open.  “Look who just got out of that limo.”

I crane my neck and look around thinking that she just saw the famous TV actress who was in a popular teen show.  What was her name again?  Elena Davenport?  She was famous for being in this TV show about a love triangle between a vampire and a cyborg.  It was insane how people were shouting her name as if it were part of her entourage. She looked stunning with her black hair and her golden skin that had obviously seen the tropics recently.  She was then accompanied by an equally handsome young man who stood well over six feet tall and had a shock of black brown hair.

“That guy’s always on the VIP list.  They call him the King,” Marley whispers as if we’re in church.

“I thought that was Elvis,” I quipped chuckling at her disgruntled look.  I knew what she meant.  I wasn’t one to get caught up in celebrity gossip, but that King she was referring to was no other than the owner of the Wyndham, Mr. Hargreave.  He gallantly bowed offering his arm to Elena who gave him a dazzling smile as she took his arm.  Hanging on the other side of his arm was also someone famous.  I heard she was the new Broadway superstar and her name was Rachel Berry.  Behind him was another famous model who often graced those ads in Vogue and a famous British reality show actress.  

All the women around him are famous, I think dully as I look down in my frumpy uniform.  For some odd feeling I felt a pang of something that I couldn’t understand wash over me.  Before I had time to even think about it, Marley again interrupted my thoughts by whispering again on my ear.

“He’s been living in the penthouse suite for a while now.” “Of course he does, he owns the hotel.”

“But it costs tens and thousands of dollars to stay there for the night.” Marley argued.

“Maybe it’s a lot more convenient to keep tabs of work here than living on Park Avenue or at the East Side.” I shrugged watching as Mr. Hargreave pays no attention to the huge crowd and walks straight ahead.

I realize that I can’t take my eyes off him.  I’ve heard the how the female hotel staff would gush about how hot he was, but seeing him in the flesh just took my breath away.

“Aaaah!!!  Over here, Elian!!!” one of the women from the mass crowd screams holding a phone camera hoping to get a picture of him.

Suddenly, a group of women, thinking about doing the same thing start running towards him and bump into me and I feel myself being pushed right into the crowd and on to the red carpet.

SMACK!

I feel like I just hit a wall and close my eyes bracing myself for the pain to follow after the impact. Instead I feel a band of steel arms hold me close, as if to steady me from the madness.  I then pry my eyes open and find myself staring into a pair of steel gray blue eyes that were placed like jewels on a handsome chiseled face.

Mr. Hargreave!!

“Aah, I- I’m so sorry,” I stammered, feeling the rush of blood flow straight at my face and into my brain as I continue to look at him, almost mesmerized yet horrified by what had just transpired.  I still feel his arms around me and I could just tell that this multibillionaire really does work out because he’s practically hugging me right now.

“What do you think you’re doing?” a haughty voice belonging to the new Broadway ingénue pipes up beside Mr. Hargreave.  She sounds almost disgusted by the sight of me.  I can see from the corner of my peripheral vision that Elena Davenport was smirking as if amused by what was happening.  God, I didn’t think she was such a bitch until now.

But instead of voicing that sentiment out, I knew I had a job at stake and right now it was totally hanging in the balance.  I had just publicly humiliated myself in front of the owner of the hotel and his guests and was drawing unnecessary attention right now and it was more than I could honestly bear. I swallow and gather myself before bitchy Quinn Fabray comes out and try to mutter an apology again but am cut short by a curt, masculine and surprisingly sexy voice.

“Get out of the way,” Mr. Hargreave says as he suddenly pulls away from me, and pushes me not quite gently aside.

“What?” I mutter in disbelief as I lose my balance and fall flat on my butt to the ground.

Owwwww..

I look at slight disdain at the man who apparently was also my boss, but his muscular, tapered back was the only thing that could see that look on my face as I watch walk further away. He brushes off his suit as if he had just encountered a speck of dust and before I thought he had finally dismissed me, turns his head and shoots me a glare and then suddenly disappears into the casino hall.

I suddenly realize with a shock that I still had that look of displeasure on my face and grimaced as I rubbed my lower back, trying yet again to stead myself as the crowd disappeared into where Mr. Hargreave and his entourage were headed.  Marley quickly comes rushing over to my side.

“Are you okay, Luce?” She asks me, totally concerned as she called me by my nickname.  I haven’t been called Lucy for a while, I had been using Quinn since I had come to New York, but somehow there was a comfort in still being known as Lucy while here in the confines of the Wyndham.

“Yeah, my butt and my pride are fine,” I say.  

“Oh my God.  Mr. Hargreave caught you in his arms.  I am so totally jealous!  Did he smell nice?  Was he really as buff underneath that suit as they say?” Marley was acting like a puppy dog fawning over that jerk.

“I don’t know, I don’t even r-remember,” I lied because I had just mentally scratched Elian Hargreave off as a completely cold, aloof, unfeeling human being.  The nerve of that man!  He didn’t even bother to defend me while I, one of his staff members, was berated by that Broadway bitch Berry.

Hmm.  That had a nice ring to it.  I feel tons better knowing that the girl could have used a plastic surgeon as good as the one who did my nose.  

Come to think of it, Elian Hargreave was actually pretty frightening.  I’ve seen how New Yorkers glare sometimes, but that cold look was totally at subzero levels worthy of the Artic.

I smooth out my clothes and hear the click clack of high heels behind me.

“Just what were you thinking, making a fool out of yourself?” a cold, voice tinged with an Italian accent snapped me back to reality.  “And in front of such important guests and even the owner of this hotel?”

“Miss Thelma, “ I say coolly plastering a smile at one of the hotel managers.  Thelma Caparano has been on my ass since the day I started working at the Wyndham when she found out I graduated with honors on my Marketing degree from Yale.  Perhaps it was that and because I’m Charlie’s kid that she thinks I deserve to be more ill-treated than a worn-out mule from a third world country.  She stands imposingly before me, all dressed up in her expertly tailored uniform as she clacked impatiently on her Prada heels waiting for me to answer her.

“I’m sorry, Ma’am.  It was an accident…”

“You are at fault for not paying attention to what’s going on around you,” she clucked her tongue at me, looking at me disapprovingly under those heavy glasses that framed her would-have-been pretty-if-she-wasn’t-such-a-bitch face.  She was probably a few years older than me, but the harshness of her demeanor just made her look like petulant and almost bratty for a woman in her mid-thirties.

“Aren’t you in charge of the regular guests, Fabray?” She asks with a smirk on her face.  

Oh boy, she does enjoy torturing me.  

“You have no business even being here in the lobby.  Not unless you get promoted to handling the VIP guests.  But you won’t get that chance, would you?  Not even if you begged your stepfather.” She laughed as if she had just thought of that joke and it was funny.

Ugh.  I am totally so close to slapping her but instead I reply setting my gaze downcast hoping that she won’t see me seething as I meekly reply “Yes, Miss Thelma.”

“Well, since you’re here,” she motions to one of her hotel assistants who was following her like a dog who hands over a box as she shoves it towards me. “Go to every floor and drop off these announcement letters while you’re at it.  These are for the guests who wish to avail of the spa promo package we are having in honor of the IVC.”

“Okay,” I say since arguing about doing a herculean task is going to go nowhere anyway since this angry vampire is out for my blood.  She’s always been a bully and since I would never dared complain of this to Charlie even though I could have, I decide I might as well just shut up and deal with it. I turn and nod to Marley, saying my goodbyes and head towards the elevators.  

As I walk by, I see a man, about my age arguing with a young woman about something in front of the elevator. The woman is wearing a dress that looks like something from the recent Fashion Week runway as she throws a mask at the man at the same time spewing a litany of curses in fluent French.

“Connard!!  Baise toi!” she screamed as the man looked back in her as if in shock.  “You lying, cheating scum!  I never want to see you again.”  With that, she gave him a resonant slap in the face for added effect before she walked out of the hotel.

This is awkward.  I turn my attention instead to the mask that looked as if it were something one wore to a masquerade ball.  I suddenly got an image of 50 shades of Grey and find myself  staring at the mask lying on the floor.  I was about to pick it up when the man who was slapped earlier moves quicker than I could and in a blink of an eye was brushing it off as if were the only precious thing that mattered to him.

Wow, his hands were fast like those of a magician.  I turn to look at him and realize that he wasn’t bad looking either.  He was of above average height and was muscularly built, but a bit thicker than Mr. Hargreave.  He also had dark hair and had the most dazzling pair of emerald green eyes I’ve ever seen.  I couldn’t tell what his hair was like underneath that Fedora hat that just made him look like the epitome of 1920’s gangster cool in a modern way.

Fedora Hat sighs dramatically.  “Great, now I don’t have a date.”  He says as if talking to himself then realizes I’m watching him.  When our eyes meet, I quickly look away self-consciously because I didn’t want him to know that I had been caught staring at him.  I try to act cool despite the awkward tension but know that he saw me witness the whole thing.

“You saw that, didn’t you?” He smirks, as if reading my mind.

“Yeah.  I-I’m really sorry.”  I backed away slowly as if avoiding being pounced by some agitated animal.

“Aw, come on. Don’t run away,” Fedora Hat laughs as he gently takes my arm as he leads me towards the elevator, completely ignoring the fact that I’m in the hotel maid’s uniform with a box of undelivered fliers on the other arm. “I’ll explain everything when we get there.”

“S-Sir?”

Before I know it, the man ignores my protests and continues to guide me, half-dragging me into the elevator with him.  We’re alone in the elevator and to be honest, this is the first time I’ve been to the basement area.  I’m surprised that the basment’s elevator looks just as elegant as the regular floor elevators.  It sort of reminded me of going into a secret lair of some evil villain but at the same time being cooped inside a glass bird cage of sorts.  I tried to avert my attention to the man beside me and look instead at the buttons of the elevator as the blinking lights affirmed our descent to the unknown.

“Whew!  I’m lucky I found you,” Fedora Hat grins at me, still holding onto my arm having no intention of letting me go.  His grip isn’t painful nor in any way gentle, but it’s firm enough to hold me into place.  As if wanting to distract me from thinking of it, he adds “coz there’s no way I could go to the party without a beautiful woman on my arm.  That would be a total buzzkill.”

Buzzkill?  Who says that sort of thing these days?

“Party?  You mean, the IVC?”

“The One and Only. Isn’t it obvious how I’m dressed?” He opens one free arm to show his expensive Italian cut suit.  Definitely Armani now that I got a closer look. And definitely custom made as it fits him perfectly.

“I-I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean that you—“

“Hahaha.  I’m kidding, babe. Man, you’re kinda uptight for a pretty thing.  Were you raised in some Christian Bible thumping school or something?”

“Uh, that’s because I work at this hotel,” I say slowly almost as if trying to hint that I’m still in my maid’s uniform, completely ignoring the fact that he’s actually right about me being Christian.  “So technically, I can’t go with you to the party as your date, sir.”

“What are you talking about? The reason why that woman earlier left was so you could be my date, Lucy.” He smiles in the most seductive, sexiest way possible as he finally noticed the name plate on my uniform.

Whoa, this one’s pretty dangerous.  And a hopeless flirt as well.  I try not to show my fear when grabs my chin and lifts it up to meet his face as he peers down, bringing it closer to mine.  I can feel his breath grazing against me as he looks into my eyes.

“Definitely my type. Angel blonde hair, mesmerizing green eyes, and luscious lips…” he trails on softly as I sort of feel his face coming closer.  He moves way to fast and I try to squirm away, backing off thinking now I understood perfectly why he got dumped in the first place.

DING! Saved by the bell of the basement floor. The elevator arrives at a full stop at the ballroom and Fedora Hat quickly backs off  and casually straightens himself as if nothing of importance was about to take place.  He could even care less whether he kissed me or not.  Jeez.

“Let’s rock and roll, Princess.” He  announces and gives off a broad smile as if putting on a game face.  And contrary to his calm demeanor, he drags me out into the ballroom before I can protest as I’m lead into the glamorous ballroom that reminded me from a scene of a Hollywood movie.

I gaped in awestruck fascination, marveling how I could have possibly missed out the new renovations at the Wyndham.  The renovations had still managed to maintain some of the old architecture, paying detail to preserving its original Art Deco state, but added with contemporary minimalist design, it’s mixture was astounding and beyond words.  I had no means of any background in architecture, but this was like walking into the Hall of Fame on architectural immortality. I was shocked that everyone present were almost nonchalant of the genius behind the design and how lavishly decorated the ballroom was to the point that even the catering was handled in the most A-list of ways.  I turn my attention to the gorgeous Swarovski crystals that were adorning the chandeliers that were hanging from the high ceiling.  

The entire floor was jam-packed with the rich and famous that I wasn’t even sure if I was hallucinating because it was too much sensory overload to be true.  I turn my head and notice Cristian Renaldi, the famous World cup soccer player from Spain to my right.  And that’s the famous Hollywood actress, Julie Moore.  And even the former President of the United States is over there?  I feel like Alice in Wonderland being wrapped around the surrealness of it all being around these celebrities that it takes me a moment to get back to earth and finally notice that Fedora Hat who had dragged me here in the first place was gone.

Huh?  Where’d he go?

Suddenly, I hear a womanly voice from behind me.

“Hey, do you have any champagne?” I turn around and am surprised that it wasn’t a woman, but a young man with an angelic face whose skin was as flawless as fine bone china. He had soft, brown hair and bright blue eyes.  He looked so familiar because his face was on the cover of this month’s issue of People Magazine being tagged as one of the 25the most beautiful People of the World of this year.

“K-Kurt Hummel!!!” I gasp, recognizing the mega hyphenate National artist/ Pulitizer prize winning Children’s Novelist/ Socialite.

“Oh, you know who I am.” He smiles brightly, happy to have been recognized in a sea of famous faces. “Thanks!”

“I-I’m sorry, I’ll look for the champagne now.” I mumble apolitically frantically looking for a bottle of Dom Perignon and Mr. Hummel chuckles behind me, as if thoroughly amused.

“You sure you work here, Alice?”

“P-Pardon?”

“You remind me of Alice in Wonderland when she fell down the rabbit hole and stumbled into the Mad Hatter’s party.” He moves away from me and reaches over the table behind me and lifts a bottle of Moet et Chandon and pours himself a glass.  He then thrusts his newly refilled glass towards me nudging me to take a drink.

“Here. You could use one more than me,” he grins.  I was about to protest but there was something harsh in his eyes telling me not to defy him as I emptied my glass.

“T-Thanks,” I was about to take the bottle and refill his glass for him when he shakes his head and takes the glass from my hands and pours himself another.

“Now, go on to doing whatever it was and I hope you get back home safely, Alice,” was all he says as he raises his champagne glass, giving me a wink of good luck for whatever it was I was about to partake.  He leaves with a wave.

He definitely was spot on about what I was feeling right at that moment.

I should definitely get out of here before I cause any more trouble.

But before I do, another man stops me from my tracks.  He’s over fifty, overweight, and perhaps a bit slightly drunk as he grins at me and grabs my hand. Ugh, he also seems really sleazy. “Aren’t you a pretty one?” He slurs and I inwardly flinch from the smell of alcohol and sweat coming from him.  “You wanna come with me and give me room service? I’ll make it worth your while and give you a big tip afterwards.

Ewww.  His head is shaped like an egg and his pock-marked face is flushed as he looks me up and down.

“I’m sorry, sir but we don’t offer that kind of service here.” I answer politely, knowing that we had been trained beforehand on how to deal with rude perverts like this guest.

He completely ignores me and starts going on how rich he is and how much is net worth is.

To be honest, it wasn’t really much.

He then slips his arm around my waist and is about to pull me towards him when…

“This party just got really trashy.” A familiar masculine voice announced icily.  I turn my head towards my savoir and realize that it’s Mr. Hargreave.  He ignores my gasp of surprise and scowls at the sleaze holding me.

“I’d rather appreciate it, sir, if you kept your attention from the hotel staff and settle instead for the bevy of beauties surrounding you,” Elian Hargreave  grinned sardonically nodding his head towards a group of runway models who flirtly waved back.  And just when I thought he couldn’t intimidate the sleazebag, he looked at me as if I were a piece of trash marring the ambience and added cruelly. “Besides, you could totally do better than THAT.  This one’s hardly a raving beauty.”  

“I-I’m really sorry, Mr. Hargreave, sir!  Pardon me!!!” Sleazebag bows apologetically quickly letting go of me as if he had been burned and kept his distance from me like I was infected with Ebola or something. He furiously wipes away his sweat and runs off.

“T-Thank you, Mr. Hargreave,” I say, totally ignoring the pain that he had brushed me off as a ugly and unattractive.  But then again, men like him are probably used to just dating models that even ingénues were all blasé for him.  

“Let’s go, Elian,” one of the pretty models whom he nodded to a while back approached him and casually hooked her arm around his, totally ignoring me.

“I can’t stand people who don’t know their place,” another one of those long legged giraffes piped in hooking her arm around his other free one as if she were about to die in a desert and he was her oasis.

As if he didn’t even acknowledge my existence and hadn’t even heard me, he turned his back as if nothing had ever happened a few minutes ago before being led away by the Amazonian Brazilian bimbos.  He starts walking still surrounded by women and I’m completely overwhelmed as I watch him walk away.  I suddenly notice a purple handkerchief on the floor behind him.  I remember this being a part of his suit and realize that he dropped it.

Almost without thinking, I picked it up and started going after him.

“Uhm, sir! Excuse me, I think you dropped this—“  I try to chase after Mr. Hargreave but he gets lost in the crowd and I can’t seem to find him.

Oh, wait!  There he is!!

I make my way through the crowd and follow him as he makes an exit to the far end of the ballroom.  

A long, deserted hallway stretches out behind the door that Mr. Hargreave enters.

“Wait.  Where did he go?”

There are several doors on either side of the hallway and I didn’t catch up with him in time to even know which doors did he enter.  However, I hear voices coming from the far end.  But somehow, as I strain to hear from the distance I get the feeling the conversation wasn’t even in English.  I shake my head, thinking that I really have to return this handkerchief back to Mr. Hargreave, I strengthen my resolve and make my way towards the door where the voices were coming from.  I note the door is slightly ajar, which explains why I could hear them.  I peek through the gap and see several briefcases lying on a table surrounded with guns and large sums of money being packed by three Asian looking men dressed in all black discussing where to put the money in perfect Cantonese and before I could see more, I feel a large hand grab me by the shoulder and roughly pulls me away, swinging me around and forces me up against a wall…

Fear and surprise of being caught seeing something I shouldn’t have take over that I feel like I just might have suffered my first heart attack.

But unfortunately, that doesn’t happen.

Instead, my heart starts pounding again in fear as I’m facing a tall, Asian man of slim, yet muscular build with broad shoulders and powerful muscles who is now glaring at me and asks in in slightly cold, yet scarily threatening voice.  His hair is slicked back and even though I know he’s actually quite good looking, I’m paralyzed with fear to hardly even notice.

“What are you doing here?” He demands as he pins me against the wall as his sharp eyes look at me.  

Oh dear, God.

It happened so suddenly my body starts to tremble as I start to realize that maybe he is one of those gun men and those men aren’t just hotel guests.  But Mafia?  Triad?

What on earth should I do?

I breathe and swallow but it’s way too hard to even do so.  Instead I focus on his face and answer.

“I-I- w-w-ork h-he---“ He completely ignores me and says instead, “you’ve got give seconds to walk away, disappear and forget everything you just saw. Got it?  Otherwise, I’d hate to think what would happen to you after.” He also said it in a way that sounded like he was talking to a five-year old.  A not very bright one at that too.

I nod wordlessly over and over, desperate to get away and he immediately lets me go.  I run so fast my legs get tangled up with each other at first and don’t even think of where I’m headed.  I just run to the point of exhaustion and find myself at the basement storage room. I close the door behind me and try to catch my breath, relieved with the fact that I have just barely escaped with my life as I offer a silent prayer and make the sign of the cross in complete gratitude that the scary Asian Mafia guy just let me go.

I ruminate over the thought of how it was possible for the Triad, one of the notorious Asian Mafias could be tied up to an event like the IVC? Were those guys even part of the Triad? Maybe they weren’t even mafia.

Get a hold of yourself, Fabray.  Keep it together.   I have just realized right at this moment I had actually lost the box of flyers I was holding earlier.  I wasn’t sure if I had lost somewhere from that struggle between me and Fedora Hat, or that Mad Hatter encounter with Kurt Hummel, or even with the Middle Aged Sleazebag .  I try again to get my body to function properly as I compose myself thinking over again where I had last left it and realized that it was on the table where I had been with Mr. Hummel.  

Just as I swing the door open, I hear a loud crashing THUD.

The door I just swung had collided into something and I could hear a group of men scream “Watch out!!!”

I see two mean-looking men peeking at the other end of the door looking helplessly as the box they were carrying drops to the ground.

“Shit!  That was the Winged Victorian Angel!”

Oh no.  I remember from the news that this 300 year old museum artifact was meant to be raffled off as the grand prize at the IVC.  It had been shipped all the way from the Louvre in Paris as a gift from the newly elected French President to the United States. The proceeds of the IVC’s funding and the raffle were meant to help the victims of Typhoon Haiyan somewhere in the Philippines.

I quickly open the crate box and find the statue was broken in half and my heart just drops to my stomach in nameless shock.

I am way too shocked to even mutter an apology.  Not only did I just destroy what might have been a National Treasure, millions of homeless Filipino children were going to starve and suffer.

“Hey, this was a very important piece that was going to be auctioned off.”  The slim mean-looking guy barks at me, ignoring my shocked state. Did he just say auctioned?  Didn’t he mean it was going to be raffled?

“How are you gonna pay for this?” Asks the Fat Meanie beside him.

“Uh…..Sorry?”

“You think an apology is gonna cut it?  You owe us, bitch!”  

The men reach out to me and….

 ……………..

 And I find myself being auctioned off.  The host of the eveing had just announce d that the next bid was me, a healthy fit young Caucasian American.

 Is this even legal?  I think as I swallow in fear hearing the bids knock from $2 million to higher.  I got put up in place of that Winged Victory Angel.

The mere fact that someone just started the bid off at $2 million was unreal.

I could barely make through the crowd as everyone was wearing masks similar to the masquerade mask Fedora Hat had with him when his date dumped him.  But somehow I felt with a sinking dread that the person who placed the initial bid was the Middle Aged Creep from before.  Oh crap, is he really going to buy me?  I definitely do NOT want that at all.

“$2 million, going once……going twice……”

I heard the announcer say that I’d be a slave, or a toy, or……God knows.  This is horrible.  I try to shake myself off this nightmare, but I know what I’m going through right now was just as real as everything that partook 12 hours ago.

Oh God, how did I get to this?  I fall to my knees, hang my head in shame as I feel the tears well in my eyes start to overflow.

I start praying hoping that Charlie, or my Mom or Fran could find me before it’s too late…..

Just then….

The auction hall suddenly buzzes with commotion as the announcer stops from closing the deal.

“Seat number 100 with a bid for $20 million cash.”

The crowd is drawn into complete silence.  

I peer through the gates to look for 100, but whoever was bidding was not in the crowd.  All I could do was stare up at the sum of the winning bid, completely dumbfounded as a  bell sounds, calling the auction to a close.

“Sold to Seat Number 100 for $20 million.  Thank you!!”

Someone bought me for twenty million US dollars?

My cage is carried over to the edge of the stage.  As I get off, I’m greeted by two masked men.  They weren’t the mean jerks from earlier but something about them looks vaguely familiar.  One of them looked to be wearing a Fedora Hat.

Fedora Hat bought me? Before I even get the chance to ask, Fedora Hat in the mask grabs my arm and says” This way….”

Wait, what the heck am I being so nervous for?  At least it’s Fedora Hat who bought me and not that Middle Aged Creep.  But where are they going to take me now?

And who bought me?

I feel totally numb from this crazy situation that I don’t even notice that I’m brought up into the penthouse.

I gasp in marvel looking at my surroundings, knowing that out of all the hotel employees, only Charlie and a few other managers were ever allowed to come up here.

Wait, speaking of Charlie, does he even know about those weird auctions happening at the basement?

“We brought her, boss.” Fedora Hat announces to the man in the immaculate tux seated on one of the elegant sofas.  Like Fedora Hat and the other man,  he was also wearing a mask, but something about him looked made me sense that I’ve also encountered this man before.  Even the other man seated beside him also with a shock of black hair was also wearing a mask also seemed vaguely familiar.

“Wait.  You’re----“

“We bought you,” Mr. Hargreave says indifferently, removing his mask as if he didn’t even hear what I was about to say.  The other man beside him followed suit.

“Guess we did end up seeing each other again,” the Asian Mafia guy remarks in the same casual, yet cold tone.

“You know this woman, Mike?” Hargreave raises his eyebrow almost as if in disbelief.

“You can say that.” He shrugs, not really giving a toss.

“Wait.  You bought me?  In that auction”  I stammer, trying to still make sense of it all.

“He means WE won you, Alice.” Kurt Hummel corrects as I turn around in disbelief as he removes his mask as well.

“For $20 million, Princess. The boss must have it bad.” Fedora Hat grins as he casually throws his mask and lays it on the next empty sofa.

“M-Mr. Hummel?” I squeak, not sure if I was asking if Fedora Hat was referring him as ‘the boss’ or if I was just asking a reaffirmation that I knew at least another familiar but friendly face.

“Pffft!!! She doesn’t even know you’re name, Puck.”  Kurt laughs.

“That because I didn’t have the time to tell her,” the man named Puck crosses his arms as if he were a pouting kid who wasn’t included in a game of tag.

“Isn’t this some form of human trafficking?  I shouldn’t have even been up for that stupid auction in the first place.”

“Hey, anything and everything’s for sale at that auction.” Puck grins matter-of-factly, completely oblivious to the fact that I had stated it being against my own free will.

“Absolutely,” Kurt agrees. “You can buy almost anything there. Like stolen art, government secrets, and even hire a hitman!”

“That was last year, wasn’t it?” Puck asked as I noticed that he and Kurt were the only chatty ones in the group while the other two men watched silently.

“Anyway, this was the first time anyone was sold off in the manner of fashion you had earlier,” Kurt says tilting his head as if trying to understand what was really going on. “You must have done something really bad to put yourself up there, huh?”

“Well…….I accidentally broke the Winged Victory Angel….” My voice trails off and I realized that something wasn’t right here.  Wait a minute, weren’t they just talking about selling black market things in a legal casino that by the way just happens to be in a highly publicized area? Was this even legal at all?  “Who in the world would approve of these things?   Do the police even know?”

“Well, to answer question number one.  I did approve of it.” Mr. Hargreave says as if bored by this whole conversation.

“What?”

“If it’s worth anything, it’s here.” Hargreave scoffs and laughs coldly.

“Reckless as always,” Mike shakes his head.  “This woman isn’t even worth anything.”

“Think about it for a moment,” Hargreave looks at me up and down as he folds his arms looking at me as if he were the predator toying with his prey.  “Won’t it be fun coming up with ways to use her?”

“What gives you the right to decide that?”  I ask exasperated.

“Who gave you permission to speak?” Hargreave asks coldly, merely raising an eyebrow.

“Huh?”

“Not another word unless I. SAY. SO.” Hargreave says, savoring the last three words, enunciating them slowly as if threatening me to not disobey him.

“If you’ve got a problem, we could always send you back to be auctioned off.” Mike sneers as if finding this even more amusing.

These guys are so scary. I’d rather die first than be sold off again.

I shake my head looking at both men, pleading them that I won’t disobey.

“Come on Boss……Mike……You two should be nice to the girls,” Puck quips, trying to lighten the mood, but honestly it fell a bit flat.  Not that I’d feel better either way.

“We need to figure out who gets to keep her,” Kurt says, as if now he’s the one who was bored by the whole turn of the conversation.  Though he acts as if he wants everything finalized, I get the feeling that he’s not entirely happy with the idea of having me for a slave.  In fact, he looks rather…….reluctant.   I’ve heard rumors that Mr. Hummel was gay, but I didn’t think now would have been the best times to actually confirm that.  So instead I ask the second question that’s been nagging me.

“What do you mean, who gets to keep me?  Didn’t you all buy me?”

“Yes, that’s true. But that’s really not your concern now.” Puck says.  “If I were you, I’d choose me.  I’m the only good guy here, so you can rest easy.”

“Says the world-famous thief and con-artist,” Elian Hargreave snorts derisively.

“Now, now Elian, you’re just trying to make Puck look bad.” Kurt says as if coming to his friends defense. “You’ve already got tons of groupies, why don’t you just play with one of them and let the rest of us have our fun?”

And to think I thought Kurt Hummel was safe because I assumed he was gay.

Guess again, batman.

“Mike Chang’s the one who could have his pick,” Hargreave threw a smirk towards the cool Asian mobster guy’s direction.  “Women would do anything to be the lover of a Hong Kong mobster.”

So he really was part of the Mafia.

Who ARE these people? I’m speechless but I try to pull myself together and try to shake some last-minute common sense in them.

“Human trafficking IS illegal, you know.  I’m going to report this to the police and I don’t care who you are.”

“You see a cop anywhere?” Elian Hargreave throws his head as if calling out to no one in particular. I follow his gaze and see a worn-out looking man standing by the window smoking a cigarette.  He looks to be the older of the bunch, probably around 35 in age. Rather good-looking, in fact he sort of reminds me of that guy who plays a thief on TV except that he looks disheveled and hasn’t shaved in a week.

“Damn it, don’t just blow my cover like that,” he groans as if he didn’t even want to be a part of this conversation.

“Better now than later, right Detective Cooper?” Kurt giggles as if enjoying himself.

“Shut up, Hummel.”

“Oh, don’t be so mean. Just because I’m dating your brother doesn’t mean you have to be so rude.”

“Wait, you’re a cop?” I ask incredulously, ignoring the fact that Kurt Hummel just confirmed he was openly gay.

“Yup.”  Apparently, the Detective spoke the fewest words possible.

I seriously CAN NOT believe that even the police are in on this.

“Well, it looks like we’re not going to reach a decision any time soon.” Kurt announces, really emphasizing on the obvious.

“Well Boss, at times like these….” Puck begins but Elian Hargreave cuts him off immediately.

“Right. I don’t want to waste anymore time.” Hargreave nods and stands up with Mike Chang following suit. All the men except for the Detective stand up and saunter over to me with Mr. Hargreave standing in the center of the group with his arms crossed looking down at me with cold eyes.

“Make a decision,” he says. “I’ll let you choose who buys you.”

---END---

Elian Hargreave.  Be ready to hear more of another Hargreave, Elian was just the prototype of my OC in the next series of fanfics.