#about purple war

[ghostyv]

I saw the tags - I wanna know about your ocs! 👀 how many you got? Which ones your fav? Got a specific pairing (romantic or platonic)?

*deep breath* THANK YOU AAAAAA-

Okay. So. For starters, there’s Lauren Caster. She’s gone through many names bc she’s basically my self insert and I can’t seem to pick a name for myself so she’s been cycled through the name box—but she started out as Lauren caster so we stick with that(she’s also a character for a book my best friend and I are writing called Purple War, so)

Then we have Nes and Noah Caster(from the same book) They’re twin brothers who while still in the womb were cursed. Basically long story short, Lauren Caster was cursed by this woman with the intention of harming the children but it didn’t work. The boys ended up with purple(see what I did there?) splotches on their faces. Well—Nes ended up with large splotches somewhat mimicking vitiligo, and Noah ended up with millions of tiny freckles all over his face and neck and shoulders/arms(Nes is still bitter about it💀). They reside in a world where two sisters, the red queen and the blue queen, were at odds. The red queen was defeated years ago and her spirit was magically entombed in the ceiling above her throne. To summarize the book, Nes goes to steal from the royal vault, meets princess Atari(my bestie’s character. yes their names are a play on the game systems, that’s an even longer story if you wanna hear that too. It’s really really funny.) after being thrown in the dungeon, was let out and they begin to fall in love but while the two were snooping around the blue and red connected castles meant for the two queens to rule a purple kingdom together, they found the red queen’s throne room. Atari sat on it and was possessed. Where Noah comes in is he was the royal cook and helps Nes with pulling the red queen’s spirit out of atari(we haven’t completely ironed out the details of how).

The next character is also from the Purple War universe as well, and I actually have a picture of her if you scroll down to a tag game I was in, it’s on my blog. Her name is Aisling Bohdi. She’s a Dragonborn woman who’s parents were killed by a town they used to live on the outskirts on. Aisling was about 14ish when it happened, and she’d been out running errands and such in the next town over. When she returned she was chased by the townsfolk up a mountain trail and into a cave, where she lost the mob and resided for another roughly 7ish years. When she finally exited the cave, she met a man named Malek Bruce, the son of a lawyer and he actually practiced law as well, but in a falling out with his father, quit. He acts dumber than he is, and he’s got some major detective skills. Together the two end up going on a few adventures and wind up teaming up with nes, Noah and Atari to ultimately defeat the red queen in(get ready to come full circle) the Purple War(whoaaa!)

Now for someone not from purple war. Honeybee Vega. I’m extremely proud of her—and I had some art somewhere but apparently I deleted it in my desperately needed camera roll purge(I had over 65k in there dude, my storage was begging for it’s life constantly). Honeybee came from my dream smp phase(I’m aware of how cringe it is, but it got me through the hardest year of my life). She’s a humanoid honeybee with one human eye and one giant complex eye(the eyes visible on the sides of bees heads. Quick detour for a bee anatomy lesson bc they’re my favorite animals—they have two large complex eyes on the sides of their heads which humans who aren’t insane like me and love bees perceive to be their only eyes but depending on the type of bee, they can have more eyes on the top of their heads called simple eyes that are used to assist bees with sun orientation so they can navigate during the day.) anyway, she has a complex eye as well as a human one so her eyesight is very bad, bless her. I adore her, she’s one of my more visually complex characters. She also has wings, and used to be able to fly but during a war one of those wings were slashed and she was stabbed and almost died, had it not been for a friend saving her.

And that’s it! Those are my major ocs :) if I think of more I’ll add onto it.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Flower Empowered.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[keldabekush]

uhh rex and 42 if you want

[CAPTAIN REX would like it noted on record that this was not what he agreed to when he said he would babysit COMMANDER TANO.]

[COMMANDER TANO would like it noted on record that CAPTAIN REX was the one who suggested they attend this concert.]

[COMMANDER TANO would like it further noted that CAPTAIN REX seemed to know an awful lot of lyrics for someone who, quote, doesn’t like music for sulky adolescents, unquote.]

[CAPTAIN REX requests previous comment be expunged from the record. He additionally requests that COMMANDER TANO be noted as a Liar and a Snitch.]

Ashoka and Rex see Space Three Days Grace on coruscant and they wear so much clip on jewellery. She just ended up in the sketch somehow

[redbean-nom]

Bacara's horrible Fullfall ensemble

inspired by @thefoundationproject, @lumateranlibrarian, and @evilkillerpoptarts!

[tenderjock]

outstanding leadership, extraordinary initiative, & steadfast devotion to duty

Daniel&Jack&Peggy, and medals earned in wartime.

"You ever notice that Thompson doesn't talk about the Navy Cross?"

Peggy froze in the middle of adding milk to her tea. After a moment, she put the bottle down and stirred carefully, thoughts racing. Without turning to Daniel or letting her surprise inflect her voice, she said, "What do you mean?"

Daniel shrugged, a little jerkily. "I don't know. Everything's always bigger and better with him, you know? He'll tell you how much he earns or how long his - ah, you know, he'll brag. But he changes the topic every time it comes up."

She tapped the spoon against the side of her cup. "Perhaps he -" She broke off, struggling for the words that would turn Daniel's attention away from the issue. "Perhaps he simply doesn't like to talk about things that happened over there. We've all been there; it's never anything like the medals or newsreels seem to say it was."

"Yeah, sure," Daniel said. "It just doesn't seem like Thompson to not tell everyone he knows about it."

"You don't talk about your Purple Heart," Peggy pointed out, not ungently. Daniel stiffened.

"That's different."

"It is," Peggy agreed. "It's different for all of us."

A pair of familiar footsteps joined them at the office commissary before Daniel could respond. Peggy glanced back down into her cup and added a generous spoonful of sugar.

"I see my top agents are spending their workday productively," Jack remarked, his smirk a sharp line in his face.

Peggy shot him a rather arch look. "I see Chief Thompson is having an equally productive day," she said. "Have you admitted defeat yet?"

Jack made a face. He'd been fighting, along with Agent Faut and some rather obnoxious pencil-pushers, to balance the New York SSR's budget for the better part of the week. Most of his morning had been spent in a meeting with the senator's aide.

"I got 'em on the ropes," he said. Daniel clears his throat, rather judgementally.

Peggy isn't quite sure who he's been more upset with recently: Jack, for taking the promotion, or her, for not being bothered by it.

His attitude was a bit annoying, to be honest. Frankly, she was never going to receive a Medal of Honor or the position as New York Chief, no matter who advocated for her or what evidence was presented to the U.S. government. Daniel had to know that, too; the man wasn't stupid. And he had to realize that having Jack in charge, where they could keep an eye on him, was better than any alternative.

"We were discussing wartime medals," Peggy said instead of all that. Jack stiffened; Daniel noticed; Peggy rolled her eyes. "I once knew a man who earned an Order of the Bath for strategic actions in battle." She considered the memory. "He had terrible teeth."

"Order of the Bath?" Jack said, disbelieving.

"For conspicuous heroism taking place in a sauna," Daniel said. Both men laughed. Peggy sniffed. They had no respect, these Americans.

"What about Carter?" Jack asked, still laughing.

Peggy blinked at him. "What about me?" she said.

"What kind of awards did Agent Peggy Carter deign to accept?"

"I didn't earn any," Peggy said stiffly. "Women aren't combatants."

That's a bit of an oversimplification, she will admit in the privacy of her own mind. There were a few medals she could have theoretically earned, from the Americans and her own government, had circumstances regarding her service not been so, well, unique.

Some Englishwomen had received medals, but their service had been different than hers - usually as pilots or somesuch, not the covert missions she had in occupied France and Nazi Germany.

She may have qualified from the U.S. Women's Army Corps Service Medal, although it perhaps would have required Colonel Phillips to pull a few strings. Peggy had occupied a strange place in the war: a woman, first of all, and therefore not allowed in combat or eligible to receive medals for heroism under fire. But she had also been a spy, someone who technically didn't exist; and a British operative working for the Americans. Both sides had simply sort of - cut her loose, after victory was obtained and she was no longer useful.

It was only due to Colonel Phillips' recommendation that she had this job in the first place. Peggy pursed her lips, then shook herself out of her thoughts.

Only to find the two men staring at her like they had just been dunked in ice water. It was a bit unsettling. She took a sip of tea.

"Anyway," she said. "I actually do have work to do. Daniel, try to keep in mind what I was saying."

Jack was frowning at her. Daniel was frowning, too, but his gaze flicked to Jack once when she spoke, before he nodded.

"Sure thing," he said, and shifted on his crutch out of her way to let her back to her desk.

: :

Peggy frequently found herself the last person in the office, nowadays, with the possible exceptions being Daniel and Jack. Right now, Daniel's dark head of curls was bent over his desk and Jack's light was still on in his office, although the blinds were drawn.

They've all been working in a companionable silence for the last two hours. Daniel was eating something that smelled hot and spiced at his desk; little noises kept coming from the Chief's office, the sound of a file cabinet being opened or the desk chair being pushed back.

For Peggy's part, she's been combing through reports of gun sales to women matching Dottie's description in the tri-state area. She has found three that warrant a closer look, and was just about to get herself another cup of tea and really settle in when Jack's door opened and he slouched out.

He stopped in front of her desk. She looked up at him and raised an eyebrow. He stared at her for a second, looking troubled.

"Yes?" she ventured, when it became clear he wasn't going to say anything to her.

"Can I talk to you?" he asked, rather abruptly.

Daniel was looking at them now. Peggy drummed her fingernails on her desk, then nodded and followed Jack into his office, where he shut the door behind them.

He then proceeded to stand at his desk, hands braced against the wood, staring blankly. Peggy was honestly starting to get worried, not that she thought letting Jack know that was a good idea.

"Chief Thompson?" she said. She didn't touch his arm, but it was a close thing.

Jack opened his desk drawer and pulled out a box. It looked like a large jewelry box and was made of navy blue leather, with gold detailing. Peggy didn't need to ask what was inside it - even if it hadn't had the name of the medal printed on it in little gold letters, she would have known.

"You should have it," Jack said. His face was grim and set.

"Jack!" Peggy said, shocked.

"You should have it," he insisted. "I don't - it shouldn't be me, anyway. And you deserve it, Peggy. We both know that." Jack glanced at her, then glanced away. "I was going to put it out on my desk but - I couldn't. I can't. You should have it."

Peggy stared at him, feeling like her heart was in her throat. Jack Thompson was a liar, and a fraud, and a self-serving, arrogant pain-in-the-arse to work with, but sometimes he still surprised her.

And, anyway, it would do no one any favors to make this into a bigger deal than it already was. She nodded, and carefully took the box and tucked it under one arm.

"I'll keep it safe," she said quietly. Then, more briskly, "Do you want me to brief you on the progress I've made in the Underwood case?"

"Christ," Jack said, rubbing his eyes. He laughed, a little wetly. "Yeah, that'd be great. Tell me you got something."

They talked for a few minutes. Jack agreed with her that there was meat in the rumor of a bank robbery being planned, although neither of them could fathom why a notorious Communist would want to rob a bank. When Peggy left his office with the Navy Cross in hand, Jack was pouring himself a Scotch, looking exhausted and like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

Daniel looked up as Peggy fastened the clasps of her purse and got her coat. "You leaving?" he asked, and then considered her more closely. "Are you okay, Peggy?"

"Yes," she said. "Just, you know." She looked at Jack's office door and clutched the rectangular shape in her purse tighter. "I need to get home."

"I'll walk you out," Daniel said, still watching her. "I'm just about done here anyway."

Peggy waited while he grabbed his coat, hat, and briefcase. She had to watch her pace a bit when she's walking with Daniel, but the company was usually worth it. Tonight, she was tired and a little shaken and a bit too reflective, and she appreciated the distraction of having to make small talk with Daniel as they walked to the subway station together.

As they were waiting for her train - hers was due in four minutes; Daniel's, in six - Daniel said, apropos of nothing, "I guess I just never expect Thompson to care enough about anything to feel, I don't know." He looked across the platform blankly. "Shame or guilt or, or loss. Or anything."

Peggy looked at him. "I know what you mean," she said.

"You know why he doesn't talk about the Navy Cross." It wasn't a question. Daniel wasn't looking at her.

Peggy tucked her heavy purse tighter to her torso and breathed out slowly. "Yes," she said. Just yes, and nothing else.

Daniel nodded, still staring across the empty platform. "Is it something I should know about?"

She gave that some thought. "It's not something I'm going to tell you," she said finally. "Not without Jack's permission, which I don't think he'd give. But it doesn't change who he is, not really. It might explain some of what he's done, recently." Then, because she wanted to be honest with Daniel: "Although you may not like the explanation."

He dipped his chin to his chest. "Alright," he said, then again, quieter, "Alright."

Her train arrived, and Peggy boarded, wishing Daniel a good night. Peggy observed him through the car's dirty, cracked window, a dark figure braced on his crutch, looking down at the concrete beneath his shoes. Peggy put one hand into her purse, pressing her palm against Jack's medal as she watched him.

As the train pulled away from the platform, Daniel seemed to shake himself and turned toward the opposite tracks, where his train going the other direction was arriving.

[wanipiece]

im jiang cheng stans.

[mutable-manifestation]

Summer Vacation Summoning Shenanigans 2

idk when the batcave gets a Laz pit but the answer here is ‘not yet’ bc reasons

***

By the time Danny’s duplicate returns to him, Robin has finished - very thoroughly - tying up his captive ninja. And was now staring him down.

Red had moved to texting someone after ensuring Danny was belted in and putting the plane on some kind of autopilot - which, very cool.

He hadn’t been bored, though, looking over the plane interior with glee. 

While the exterior design was…a bit much, the inside was sleek and high-tech. It was no rocketship, but going over which controls were similar and which differed and trying to guess what they all did was plenty entertaining.

He was less than half-way through them when he re-merged with his duplicate. 

Luckily, Red and Robin were still occupied by that point, giving him time to focus on sifting through the memories.

He tries to stifle his laughter, disguising an escaped snort by pretending to cough into his fist.

Red apparently chooses that moment to be done with his phone (and damn, he sent some poor sob a book).

“Sorry about that; I had to update Batman.”

Danny let himself laugh at that.

“Bat-man? Not, like, Birdman or something?”

“Nope, the bat himself. Speaking of which; I was hoping you’d be willing to answer some questions?”

Robin chose that moment to plop into the seat next to Danny, who looked at him in askance.

“His vitals have stabilized; the tranquilizer has fully kicked in. There is no more need to worry about a surprise escape; by the time he awakes we will be back in Gotham.”

Danny hummed.

“So like, are you just dropping him off first? Or was the ‘taking me home’ thing a play on words that actually just meant ‘kidnapping me take 2: electric boogaloo?’ I mean, you don’t even know where I live; my place could be closer to here than to Gotham.”

“Your accent resembles nothing of Nanda Parbat,” Robin says.

Red picks up after him. 

“No, no, we’re taking you back to your home,” he clarifies, shaking his head and x-ing his arms. “You’re from somewhere in the mid-western United States, right? Gotham is the first US city we’d hit flying this path.”

“Illinois,” he answers, squinting in thought as he searches his memory for a ‘Gotham’ or a ‘Nanda Parbat,’ which, ha, ‘Par-bat.’ “I take it we’re somewhere in, like, Europe or something?”

The Robins share a look.

“Where is the last place you remember being before you were kidnapped?” Red asks.

“Illinois,” Danny shrugs, settling back in his seat. “Anyway, you can just drop me near Chicago or something and I’ll take it from there.”

Red huffs a laugh. “No need for that. I gave Batman your name and description; he’ll have coordinates to where you need to go in no time.”

“Well, that’s…” ‘Inconvenient,’ he thinks to himself, hoping for the first time that this is actually a different universe so he doesn’t have to come up with an explanation to cover for how he somehow ended up abroad without including the whole ‘being summoned’ thing.

The last thing he needs is to give them a reason to put him through the Ghost Catcher.

“...nice,” he settles on. Unconvincingly.

“Do you know why you were taken?” Robin presses.

Danny opens his mouth to answer, but pauses.

“Yep!” he concludes, eyes crinkling with his smile. “I’ll even answer that question if you answer one of mine first.”

The smaller Robin narrows his eyes suspiciously, Red asking “What question?”

He turns away from Normal Robin to look at Red Robin.

“What’s up with the ‘flying things’ theme?”

Red slow blinks, Danny can practically hear the dial-up noise.

He was probably expecting worse in exchange for ‘hey what does the murder club want?’

The smaller Robin answers while he is collecting himself.

“The Robin title is inherited, passed down from the first. It is a reference to the costume colors. Batman chose his name and costume as a symbol of fear, to intimidate the criminals of Gotham.”

“Oooooh, so it’s like a gang thing!”

Red Robin makes a choking noise.

“What!? NO! I- that- we’re heroes! Batman is a founding member of the Justice League!” He manages, face painted in disbelief. 

Robin, for his part, remains silent - though a brief glance out of the corner of his eyes reveals a pinched expression.

“Oh, right,” he nods along, deciding he is definitely not still in the same universe. Sweet, no worries about hiding the ghost powers then, especially since heroes were apparently enough of a thing to have some kind of support group or something.

“So does that mean you have bird-powers?”

“No,” Robin says. “And you haven’t answered my question yet.”

“Ah, right, Ra’s’ thing. He said he was trying to summon the ‘Lord of the Dead,’” Danny does air quotes along with the far-too-pretentious-title. Honestly, ‘Ghost King’ was bad enough.

“The ‘Lord of the Dead?’” Red echoes. “Summon? As in, with circles and blood-sacrifices and magic.”

“Yep,” Danny pops the p. “I wouldn’t worry too much though. He’ll probably be distracted trying to un-kidnap this guy and deal with whatever had his other guys running around like chickens with their heads cut off for a while yet.”

---------------------

Tim had left a call open to the batcave so the rest could listen in, and after Danny’s incredibly alarming answers about Ra’s’ current goal it was no doubt exploding with texts and suggestions in the groupchat. Good thing he muted it fully.

He feels a bit bad interrogating the guy, but time and memory don’t go well together. People often dismiss as unimportant things that are actually the key to breaking a case; the more thorough their questions, the more likely they prompted a memory that would give them the answers they needed.

Unfortunately, Danny didn’t seem to know much.

“Did Ra’s say anything about who this ‘Lord of the Dead’ is? Or why they were trying to summon him?”

“Nope!” Danny smiled. “Nothing about - who aside from the title, of course - or why, just that they did want to summon him. If you guys don’t have bird powers, what powers do you have?”

“We are not enhanced beyond what the average healthy human could achieve, though we are all highly trained in combat - some more than others - and skilled in detective work. We rely on skill, research, and preparation.”

And on and on; Danny giving uninformative answers then asking a question for each they’d asked on their ‘turn,’ and them giving carefully vague answers of their own.

One consolation is that he didn’t seem bored. 

For someone who claimed to have woken up less than an hour ago on the wrong side of the planet he’s just…relaxed. Calm. Seemingly unaffected, down to his microexpressions.

No signs of shock.

Of course, he’d treated the Lazarus Pit as a kiddie pool. 

And despite his words, he’d shown no recognition at the mention of the Justice League, and around half of his questions thus far had been about them.

Clearly something was up with him; whatever it was would probably explain the self-assurance.

He’d escaped from the League before they’d even known he was kidnapped, afterall. Tim and Damian really only solved the final hurdle for him. Even with most of LoA distracted with something, it was still impressive that he’d manage to slip whatever restraints and guard they’d undoubtedly had him under.

Which is, of course, when Damian asks.

“How did you manage to escape?”

Danny shrugs.

“Have you ever seen that thing that coyotes do where they get their leg stuck in a beartrap or something and they gnaw it off to escape?” he says, expression unmoved.

“You are a meta, then,” Damian concludes while Tim just stares at Danny in horror.

At that, Danny’s expression changes. 

“A what?” he squints, uncomprehending.

“A meta - or metahuman - is someone with a meta-gene, which grants them superpowers. Like how Flash is so fast: that’s his meta ability,” Tim says. “You still had all your limbs when you…dove into-”

“Wait, wait, back up,” Danny interrupts. “To be clear: I did not gnaw off a limb. That was meant to be a joke. So Flash is a ‘meta.’ Is that, like, common?”

Tim was beginning to suspect this guy either had memory loss, was an unlucky alien who only landed recently - just in time to get kidnapped by the League of Assholes - or was just really sheltered.

He’d also suspect some kind of Pit demon, given where and how they found him, but he has so far been nothing but polite and cooperative - if a bit…chaotic. In terms of questions he’s asked.

“I’m kind of surprised they bothered to form a group if there are so few people with powers,” Danny mused after Damian filled him in on the statistics. “Especially if most of them are as minor as you said.”

“Even just one person with strong powers can spell disaster if left unchecked - the League aids response times in that regard. Besides, it’s not like metas are all there is to pay attention to - there are plenty of villains without meta abilities, intergalactic politics to deal with-”

“Intergalactic? Are you guys doing things in space!?”

Danny was suddenly very close, nose just a hair's breadth from touching Tim’s own.

He swallows quietly.

“Ah, occasionally? G-green Lantern is. A Green Lantern. They’re basically space cops, so that’s…more his thing. Though a previous Robin did have to deal with a Gordanian-Tamaranean conflict affecting a Tamaranean ally - Starfire.”

Danny leans away - just a bit - as he speaks, seemingly basking in the information like a cat in a sunbeam.

“You’re allies with an alien? Ancients,” he breathes. “There are aliens. So cool.”

“Tch, of course there are. I already informed you of Superman,” Damian huffs, causing Danny to whip towards him.

“Superman is an alien!?”

They’d also mention Batman and Superman being close allies, which apparently inspired Danny to let loose the sea of questions he’d been holding back.

“What’s his species called? Is Superman a translation of his actual alien name? You never showed me a picture; does he look human or is he totally different? What’s his planet like? Have you been there? Is he comfortable in Earth’s atmosphere or does he have to use environment-adjusting equipment? Or is it well suited to him? Is that why he has powers, actually? Because the difference in planet allows him to thrive? Or are they an inherent trait in his species? What’s his culture like? You said Green Lantern was ‘A Green Lantern;’ is he an alien too? Or is that the space cops’ names? Are most space cops aliens? What about the Tamaranean person - Starfire? And the Gordanians? Where are they all from are they all from the Milky Way or are some extra-galactic do they allhaveenvironmentalneedssimilartoorlessthanhumanscantheysurviveinthevacuumofSPACE-”

---------------------

Once they get Danny to pause for breath - which takes an impressively long time - they promise to answer his questions with a gentle reminder that they’re supposed to take turns asking things.

If Danny was cooperative before, he’s downright eager now. He listens with near-religious awe to every answer they gave.

When it’s their turn to ask a question he becomes unnervingly still and stares with an intensity that has Tim half-concerned they’ll catch on fire for every second they aren’t talking - though luckily between himself and Damian the pauses are minimal.

His answers are both more detailed and more focused. 

If they ask if he saw any information about the summoning ritual, he only mentions catching a glimpse of ‘the summoning room.’ Asking what the room looked like nets a description of the columns’ styles and the general vibes, asking what things he saw in the room got them an exhaustive list, but if they wanted further detail they had to ask specifically about the item in question.

He had an awful lot of details for a guy who only ‘caught a glimpse.’

He also refused to give them details about what the circle looked like because ‘for all I know you could be lying about everything you’ve said so far and planning to use me in your own ritual as a sacrifice to summon the Lord of the Dead.’

He and Damian spend a few of their turns opening the internet on the batplane’s front window and showing him some articles and videos about themselves, Batman, Gotham, and the JL to get them to trust him.

He eventually says he’ll describe the circle to them if he can meet an alien. 

Appealing to his sense of self-preservation by explaining the information would increase their odds of stopping Ra’s does not help, nor does appealing to his sense of ‘helping others.’ 

It’s an introduction or the highway.

Not the worst outcome, given how many aliens they know.

The rest of the flight is spent like this.

---------------------

Danny is having quite possibly the best day of his half-life - and life, if he’s being honest.

Aliens! The universe he’s in has aliens! And he gets to meet one! Probably!

If Ra’s requests something that isn’t outright evil he’s honestly, genuinely considering granting it (in exchange for something, of course. Having a cool home universe is enough for maybe a deal, not for a freebie. Maybe he can ask for a regularly scheduled summoning to talk to the aliens? And all of the information Ra’s has and will ever have on aliens? Ooooh).

Not that he’s going to make it easy on him, of course.

And wow he is loving the information exchange with the Robins - they’re telling him about aliens and he just has to, what, describe a chandelier? A book? His opinion on the pool?

They ask a surprising number of questions about the pool. 

He gets twin dead-eyed stares when he asks if they’re thinking of installing a bird bath - yeah it cost him an alien question but there are only so many pool-related questions he can answer while ignoring the joke hanging right there. 

He had to.

When they finally land and exit into what looks like the inside of a high-tech barn, he can’t help but think they might just be sour that they didn’t think of it first.

“Not to be judgy, or anything, but I’m not really getting cave vibes here,” he comments as he descends the final step from plane to floor, looking up once he’s clear to watch the roof finish folding closed over their heads.

“Because this isn’t the cave,” an unfamiliar voice says, melting out of the shadows in a corner to reveal a purple-cloaked woman.

“Wait, let me guess: Purple Robin? Purple Bat? Peafowl?”

Purple snorts good-naturedly and shakes her head. 

“All good guesses, space cadet, but wayyy off base. It’s Spoiler, non-flying thing name haver extraordinaire.” She dips into a dramatic bow, eyes crinkled in what, even without her mouth visible, was obviously a grin.

“Ehhhh…” Danny tilts a hand side-to-side. “Spoilers can technically fly if you crash a car hard enough.”

“By that logic everything can be considered a flying thing,” Robin frowned.

“Well the Earth is hurtling through space at around half a million miles per hour chasing the sun through an endless void with no ‘ground’ in sight….”

“Well!” Red Robin ends the brief silence that had inspired. “We should probably head to the batcave, but for security reasons we can’t let you see how we get there-”

“Hey, does this smell funny to you?” Spoiler asks, holding up a bottle of what was almost definitely chloroform.

He can see Red and Robins’ mask eyes widening (somehow) and makes the split second decision to lean forward and take a deep breath of the bottle being held just high enough for him to stick his nose over it.

“Citrusy,” he says before pretending to fall unconscious.

***

*Timmy Turner’s Dad’s voice* “I’m respecting reality by acknowledging that chloroform doesn’t work like that but asserting my authority as The Author by making it work like that anyway”

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Sorry if I missed anybody anyway here's part 2!

[punkrogue]

some fucking idiot: when we say "magneto was right" we're saying he's right about society and shit not supporting his terrorist actions

me: don't lump in with your cowardly ass i'm in full throated support of his terrorism. sentinels, purifiers, the mardies etc are all real and exist and want mutants dead and literally no one gives a single shit. they'd rather pass the mutant registration act and make "scaly lives matter" jokes on twitter then help stop the genocide of mutants. it's a good thing actually he's blowing shit up and he should do more of it actually.

[soath]

"exu: calamity should be done by the studio that animated arcane" okay, sure, easy pull. EYE think that downfall can only be properly handled by cartoon saloon. no one else knows how to capture space and break the bounds of dimensionality and perspective like they do. no other animation studio can do the interplay of horrific modern dystopia vs. ancient magics long suppressed. no one else could correctly pull off a sequences that's just Shapes and Light. no one else can be trusted to deploy a tactical symbolic halo. imagine panning out to see all of aeor from a raven's eye or ten-thousand rats', a city flattened into mere brutalist squares against the sky. imagine the artwork becoming something more abstract, more stylized, like an illuminated manuscript or papercut art laid over the background world as mortality fades and the gods take over.

[xx-maemae-xx]

Give Mae a purple lightsaber…and, no, not just for aesthetic purposes.

[deadrlngers]

AEMOND TARGARYEN + memorable lines from season 1 (and a bonus)

[deuyr4]

artfight attack for break

[scalproie]

bitch just jumped

[morsartis]

hi idk if you like to hear other peoples headcanons so if you dont pls ignore but i want to talk to SOMEONE about my silly purpleblood headcanon

-

alright so; face paint. i dont particularly like the "every purpleblood is a clown" thing (but if you do then hell yeah go off love is real) as it kinda limits the character variety of that caste, but i DO like the face paint as a detail so ive settled with this: i headcanon that the face paint purples are prone to wear is not a Clown thing nor a Cult thing, but a cultural thing. all (or most) purplebloods wear a coat of face paint to symbolically conceal themselves. showing your bare face to someone youre not close/in a quadrant with is seen as a taboo in purpleblood cultures. additionally, letting a quadantmate/close friend see ones face is probably the biggest sign of trust a purple can do (depending on how they feel about the tradition). and having them HELP WASH IT OFF??? ough, now thats /tender/.

I need you to understand that I am ABSOLUTELY FERAL over this idea and it goes perfect with an older headcanon thing I did a while back

Here: https://www.tumblr.com/morsartis/639719797773549568/hey-your-writing-was-awesome-ive-just?source=share

AND LISTEN- LISTEN-

NEVER APOLOGIZE FOR SENDING ME YOUR OWN HEADCANONS I LOVE THAT SHIT.

God okay but like, the TENDERNESS??? Of washing off your big purples paint??? The damn SWEETNESS and TRUST of being allowed to help them apply it in the mornings???

NO ONE TOUCH ME IM NOT OKAY

EDIT: YES! Yes I love talking about other peoples headcanons! TALK TO ME ABOUT THE HEAD CANONS-

[martianbugsbunny]

IT'S REALLY GIVING KALLUZEB

now go read the rest of the poem because believe or not the whole thing gives Kalluzeb 🫰

[notcatherinemorland]

ESSEK UPDATE: we got a whole shadowhand namedrop... tears in my fucking eyes MY BOY LIVES ON... essek nation I am weeping with you all tonight!!!!