#also it's very possible that they do trick or treating in the hidden city

[tizeline]

Sorry, he's an only child, he never learned how to share </3

[wheelsup]

the taming of the shrew | two

if i be waspish, best beware my sting

after some setbacks, penelope is willing to do anything to get you back on board. but has spencer already ruined things?

A/N: hello! im so sorry that this posting schedule is super inconsistent. the more i thought about this chapter, the less i liked the more technical aspects of it. but! i hope you enjoy to plot aspect of it nonetheless <3 thanks for reading!

category: fluff, slow burn series, spencer reid x fem!reader

wc: 4.4k

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Since that phone call with Penelope, she’d been over nearly every night for a week with plates of treats and onslaughts of apologies. Each time she came knocking, you told her there was no amount of persuasion that could change your mind. And yet the following night, she’d be there, a new type of pastry in hand and a new set of reasons why Spencer was worth the trouble.

First, she brought blueberry muffins and reasoned that deep below that prickly exterior, he really was everything she promised –– sweet and caring. But that must be deep, deep down. Like, The Lost City of Atlantis, deep down, because you didn’t expect it to surface any time soon. 

Then, she brought fudge brownies and explained that his behavior wasn’t personal –– he was getting snippy with everyone lately. And while you maintained that anybody would have a hard time getting along with Spencer, you were absolutely positive that it was now impossible for you. 

Quite frankly, it wasn’t just Spencer who was unwilling to play nice. You hated him. More than you’ve ever hated a stranger. 

You wished him a lifetime riddled with minor inconveniences that would drive him to the edge of insanity. You wanted him to miss all his trains by just a quarter of a minute; close enough so that he could see it leave the platform, knowing he almost made it on. You wanted him to constantly feel like he was about to sneeze. You wanted his socks to be perpetually wet, and if he should happen to put on a dry pair? You hoped he stepped in a puddle.

That was all you could think about as you laid out on your couch, munching on one of Penelope’s lemon bars while she paced around your apartment. She kept going on and on advertising Spencer to you. As annoying as it was, she was also saving you a ton on groceries that week. 

For the most part, you filtered her out. Not a single word that came out of her mouth was believable anymore, especially not when she was talking about Spencer. Despite what Penelope thought of him, you saw in him what she refused to accept. 

As her speech came to a close, she looked at you like she expected a response to dignify her prattling. 

“Give it a rest, Penelope. He’s a lost cause,” you laughed dryly. “He doesn’t need –– nor does he want –– anyone in his life.” At the very least, he definitely didn’t want you. 

“Yes, that’s the problem!” If you’d been listening to her, you would’ve heard her saying the same thing. “He doesn’t want to date!” 

Your head just about exploded when she said that. 

There had been countless, fruitless conversations about this, and all along she saw the gaping hole in her supposedly airtight plan?

“If he doesn’t want to DATE, then WHAT was the point of this?!” Your fingers pressed the bridge of your nose; you suddenly felt a headache coming on. Funny how it always happened around the time of day that Penelope came to visit.

Penelope stopped pacing. She stalked over to your couch, picked your legs up by your ankle, and moved them to make space for herself. You begrudgingly sat upright as she took her place beside you. 

“Because he’s not himself anymore. He’s not open like he used to be. Not to the people who care about him the most, and certainly not to the world.”  

Penelope toyed with the hem of her dress, distracting herself from her quivering lip before pressing on, “Spencer Reid has always wanted love. And it’s not right that he no longer believes he can have it.” 

You hadn’t seen Penelope look so desperate until now. It was concerning. Because what could make her look so hopeless? What could make Spencer so hopeless? 

“Penelope, I don’t know what’s wrong with your little friend, but… there’s a lot more bubbling inside him than you’re letting on.” 

She chewed up the insides of her cheeks, wincing to herself at your incredibly accurate claim. 

“You are hiding something, aren’t you?” You narrowed your eyes on her. You were no detective, or whatever exactly her team did, but she was just awful at concealing her thoughts.

“It’s not my story to tell,” she murmured. 

She could already feel herself about to give it away and doubled down her mental defenses against it. Focusing extra hard on keeping Spencer’s privacy intact. If only you knew her track record with secrets, you’d be proud of her for staying quiet this long.

“What isn’t your story?” 

“That his girlfriend died last year.” 

She spilled it before she even realized what she was saying. You’d just asked so nonchalantly that she forgot she was talking aloud. Penelope turned purple, terrified now that the whole truth was out there. 

You couldn’t even take satisfaction in the fact that your trick worked. You were just as mortified as Penelope, and if you weren’t already sitting down, you knew you’d need to. You assumed there was something deeper going on with him, you didn’t think it was a dead girlfriend. That was some Nicholas Sparks shit. 

“He pretends like he’s fine but I know he’s not. And if he found a way to move on, maybe he’d start feeling as okay as he claims to be,” she sniffled before snot could run from her nose, tears lining the rims of her eyes. “I know I should’ve given you the full picture, but I didn’t think you’d go for it if you knew…” 

You were too floored to process it all right away. This added a whole new layer of complicated to an already uneasy arrangement.

“Well, I know you’re right about one thing. I would’ve said no.” 

She gave you a set of pleading eyes, praying you’d see where she was coming from. 

“I know,” she whispered defeatedly. “But maybe... now that you know, you can understand why he acts out the way he does.”

“Penelope, I can’t just… make someone move on, or –– or get them to believe in love! Especially when it’s fake.”

How on Earth did she expect you to pull that off? Did that guy from A Walk to Remember move on when Mandy Moore died? You hadn’t seen the ending of the movie, but you assumed not. 

“I’m sorry, this is just… a lot bigger than the favor I thought it was ––”

“What if I could return it?” she cut in. The gears in her head started to turn, figuring ways to patch up the holes she made. 

“There’s nothing I need from you.” 

That couldn’t be true. Penelope looked around the room and it didn’t take her long to think of it.

“I can help you sell your art,” she tempted, gesturing to the scattered canvases. “You make all your income from this, right?” 

You didn’t want to give any fuel to her fire, but you nodded. “What if… what if you didn’t have to settle for local buyers? What if I told you that you could make way more money selling them to the whole world?”

You chortled at her idea. 

You were a local artist, through and through. Your art got put in local galleries and sold to local buyers. Nothing more, and that was fine with you. You realized it a long time ago that it was just a pipe dream to think you’d be more. 

“I’m serious! You could get a separate painting studio, and stop living in one? Huh?” She wrapped her hand around your shoulder, waving the other in the air, urging you to picture it with her. “Imagine this: a kitchen that’s separate from your living room. A bed, inside it’s own four walls, and more than twelve feet from where you cook your meals.”

Pushing aside her so blatantly insulting your apartment, if that were a possibility, you’d want nothing more. But it already sounded foolish and you hadn’t even heard how she planned to pull it off. 

“Penelope, I’m fine where I am. I make the money I need, and that’s... it’s fine.”

She gave you a pointed look. “You know, I can hack all search engine results to make sure you are what comes up first anytime someone enters the word ‘painting’, right?

An airy chuckle left your lips. Of course she could. You patted her thigh twice and stood up, prompting her to follow you to your door –– hopefully, so she can show herself to the other side of it. “Still no, Pen.” 

“Just take some time to think about it!” Her voice carried through the wood as you shut it on her.

*

There was this one bench in Kenilworth Park – the one that overlooks the crystal clear pond – that you’d always been able to rely on to fix any problem.

There was hidden magic in the bushes that sprawled out from the edges of the water, surrounded by spiky green blades of overgrown grass. A simplicity you loved in baby ducklings paddling into the tiny body of water, swimming close together so they don’t get lost in, what seems to them, a whole ocean. And clarity provided by the freshest air in the world, under the shade of the big oak trees on a late summer afternoon.

But at the present, none of that came close to being enough.

The artist’s block started off as a minor inconvenience, but without your permission, had stretched into weeks of steadily declining motivation. Each new idea felt even worse than the last, and you were acutely aware that there would come a point where you’d officially hit maximum capacity for how awful they could get.

Still, that didn’t seem to light a fire under you. You happily coexisted with the blank pages of your sketchbook. Staring down at them, laying open on your lap in their stark-white glory, you felt like you were playing a waiting game. If you stared long and hard enough, maybe they’d flinch. 

Unfortunately, you never got to find out who won, because your phone rang inside your pocket. As if the caller had interrupted an incredible genius at work (which couldn’t be farther from the truth), you hastily raised the phone to your ear, slamming your sketchbook shut.

“Hello?” Your voice wasn’t as kind as it could be for someone with nothing better to be doing. Two seconds later, you learned who was calling and came to regret it.

“Hi, This is Rebecca from District Arts, calling with a message from Andre ––”

“Oh, hi!” you tried to walk back your previous tone, straightening up in your seat and pitching your voice higher, “Yeah, I’ve been waiting to hear from him!” 

While Rebecca intimidated you, Andre happened to be your closest friend at the gallery. He worked closely with the artists to curate their collection and help them make sales. 

“Does he want to sort out what to set the opening bid prices at for my new pieces?” A handful of days ago, you sent him pictures of your new work and were waiting to hear his thoughts. You’d always been able to trust his opinion, and a vote of confidence from him might be just the thing to inspire you.

“Uhm…” There was a criminally long pause on the other side of the line, ended by Rebecca’s weary inhale. “Unfortunately, we’re calling to inform you that your pieces will not be included in the next rotation.”

For a minute, you weren’t sure what to make of what she said. You’d never heard those words before.

“What – what do you mean?” you laughed nervously. She probably misspoke. Perks of friendship aside, Andre always included you in sets. 

“Ugh, let me just get him…” her voice faded away as she put the phone down. 

That wasn’t exactly the reassuring statement you were looking for. In the time it took for the call to switch hands, your confusion finally melted in. And then quickly boiled into anger.

The District Arts gallery changed their entire collection every two months. The pieces shown accepted rolling bids throughout the full eight weeks, finally selling at the end of term to their highest offer. After that, the pieces got taken down, sent to happy new owners, and the entire gallery reset with entirely new works. 

So if you missed one rotation, that meant waiting two months to get back in.

“Andre, how am I just cut from the gallery!” you barked before he could get a word in. If he didn’t like your work, he could’ve just said so. 

“No one said that ––”

“Okay, let me rephrase.” You pinched the bridge of your nose, something you found yourself doing quite frequently lately, and took a deep breath in and out. It was seemingly just for show because it did absolutely nothing to calm you down. “Why wouldn’t you put me in the next set? I’m in all of them!”

“I know you are!” He sounded just as upset. “It’s just that… we give you the biggest space we have, because you always manage to fill it up. But this time… I’m not so sure you can.”

“That’s ridiculous,” you scoffed. “What makes you say that?” You asked that, but you knew.

“You’ve only finished three pieces… I’m worried how you’ll deliver seven more before we set up.”

“But… it’s four weeks away, I could do ––”

“And it took you four weeks to make what you have... I’m sorry. We couldn’t take that gamble.” 

He took your silence as an opportunity to turn off the work talk and speak, just friend to friend. 

“You know that I trust you and I’d hold that spot if I could. But, I also know what you’re going through right now, and… I don’t know, maybe letting yourself rest would be a good thing?” 

Your heart paused. By, “knowing what you’re going through”, you assumed he didn’t mean the little artist’s block.

“If you’re implying that I can’t do my job because of what happened with Cyrus –”

“I’m not, I’m not....” he backtracked as quickly as he could. “But take another look at the paintings you showed me and tell me if they feel like you.”

Even if he was right, you wanted to fight him. You wanted to cry. You wanted to beg that you didn’t need that big space; you were willing to downsize and just turn in the three that you had. Even if they got shoved into the corner where hardly anybody bothered to look. You just couldn’t afford to go two months without the income. 

But even with tears beading up, you realized that the gallery couldn’t afford it either. They needed to bring in money and you couldn’t do that for them this time. So they were right to go to someone who can.

“Right,” you sniffled, recollecting yourself so he can’t hear the shakiness in your voice. “I understand. It’s a big risk, like you said… It’s for the better.”

Andre tried to thank you for being understanding and spewed some sort of encouragement. The words flew over your head. You managed to toss in a few ‘mhmm’s and ‘sure’s at the right places to coast you along until the call finally ended. 

As soon as it went dead, you dropped your phone to the side and brought your hands to your face, rubbing them furiously over your cheeks. Your fingertips pressed hard into your eyelids, trying to forcibly reabsorb the tears threatening to spill. 

It almost worked, until you tried to breathe. 

A full sob escaped in that one gulp of air and you succumbed to it. But the loud crunching noise of some pedestrian walking over the falling leaves destroyed your sense of privacy, and you quickly wiped away all signs of your breakdown. The crunching stopped just short of your bench and on instinct you flicked your eyes up to see who the intruder was.

You did a double take. It was him. That fucking asshole.

He was standing there, looking dumber than you could even remember, with his hands in his coat pockets and a curious look on his face as he watched you cry. Tucking your sketchbook under your arm in haste, you made it a point to stand up with as much aggression as possible, rolling your eyes at him.

“Don’t worry, I’m leaving,” you barked. “No need to yell at me this time.”

You bristled past him, barely refraining yourself from checking his shoulder as payback. You wanted to believe you were better than him, but it did sound incredibly tempting. He stood there for a moment before turning on his heel and following you.

“Wait,” he groaned.

You didn’t listen, neither stopping nor slowing down.

“I said wait,” he huffed as he caught up to you, popping up at your side and jogging along as you kept going.

“Yeah, because I need to listen to a guy who yells at strangers in bookstores.” 

Now that you’d brought up the elephant in the room, your feet started moving even faster, working double time to get you away from him.

Damn the fact that he had those long legs. He didn’t even break a sweat trying to keep up. He was inescapable.

“Well, if you waited like I asked, you would’ve gotten an apology for the ––”

“Gee, thanks!” you yelled, stopping for only a second to turn to him and give him a mocking bow of your head, hands clasped together like you were praising at his altar. “I was waiting with bated breath for that! Thank you, kind sir, for now my life can go on.”

“Look, I’m actually sorry,” he snapped. Then in realizing the irony, softened his voice, “I’m sorry for being rude. I was having a bad day… not that that’s an excuse.”

You stared at him blankly, just watching his mouth moving quickly and waiting until it finally stopped. 

“Did you need something?” 

“Did you… did you not hear what I just said?!” 

“No, sorry,” you smiled, voice sweet like sugar. “My ears filter bullshit. Wanna try again?”

He scoffed, looking away like he couldn’t believe you before stepping even closer. “What’s your problem?”

“Me!? The fuck –– what the fuck is your problem?” You turned and stormed off again, seething at his audacity. Spencer just couldn’t relent his annoying tendencies and followed yet again.

“My problem is that I’m trying to be nice, and you’re not letting me!”

You got a good, hard laugh out of that. “Okay, first of all, having to apologize for yelling at me and pushing me isn’t exactly the best starting point for the journey of becoming a nice person.”

“Like I said, I was having a bad day.” 

Under your breath, you muttered, “Well, I hope this one’s even worse.”

“Why are you such a ––” He stopped himself from finishing that thought. Even in his worst mood, he wouldn’t cross that line. 

But he didn’t need to finish it, you knew exactly where he wanted to take it. The soles of your shoes scraped against the loose gravel as you came to a grinding halt, ears ringing.

“A what?” You turned to face him, a sarcastic smile on your face growing wider as he started to shrink more and more. You got up close in his face, daring him to say what he really wanted to. So he could reinforce your belief in exactly the type of person he was. “A what?” 

Spencer pursed his lips and shook his head, refusing to say it no matter how much you challenged him. If he wasn’t going to have the balls to say it, you decided to take it upon yourself.

“Tell you what, you keep thinking about it and get back to me the next time you’re in a cunty mood.” 

The word he was thinking of was probably not as bad, but you had a habit of escalating things. Even if you took this one too far, you didn’t care. 

Before you tried to take off again, Spencer’s hand flew to your elbow. He tugged you back, forcing you to turn around and face him. He didn’t know his own strength; without any resistance, you came stumbling into his chest, at risk of falling over if it weren’t for his tight grip on your arm.

It took you a beat to push him away with both your hands on his chest, vocalizing your disgust for being so close to him. 

“Can you stop trying to disagree with me for a second? I’m trying to tell you that you’re right, I was being a… well, you know…” He avoided the word. Apparently ‘cunt’ was where he drew the line. “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve it.” 

Your nostrils were still flared and blood hot as ever, but he made you pause. He looked sincere, if not a little tinged with guilt as well. You were suspicious of it.

“You saw me crying and felt bad, didn’t you?”

He laughed darkly. “Well, I saw you, yes. Did I feel bad? No.” 

“Oh, my God,” you growled, berating yourself for getting close to believing he might be capable of decency. 

“I’m joking! I’m joking.” He squeezed your elbow twice in earnest. “I did feel bad, but that’s not why I wanted to say it.”

“Okay.” You weren’t ready to give him a real smile, so you flattened your lips into a thin line and nodded once slowly, and left it at that. 

You still weren’t a fan, but the apology did dampen some of the resentment. Maybe he wasn’t the worst person alive. You’d settle for saying top ten most annoying, instead.

Minutes later, you came to the startling realization that he was still on the path, just two paces behind you. You flinched when you saw him out of the corner of your eye, not expecting him to still be here. 

“Uhm. Where are you… why are you still following me?” 

“I’m not. My car’s that way,” he gestured to the parking lot at the end of the long walkway. “I forgot my loaf for the ducks.” He didn’t mean to offer that information up, it just slipped out. He could practically see your smug expression coming before it even got there.

“You’re not supposed to feed bread to the ducks. It’s bad for them.”

“I don’t.” He didn’t care to explain this to you, but he couldn’t have you thinking he was any less competent than he really was. “It’s a special bread made from water and seeds that were ground into flour. It’s duck-safe.” 

“They make duck-safe bread?” Now that was something you’d never heard before. 

“No… I make duck-safe bread,” he said softly under his breath. 

You didn’t know how else you were supposed to react to that besides laughing wildly. 

“You make it?” He nodded like you were the crazy one here. As if he wasn’t the one spending his spare time grinding up seeds and baking loaves of bread for ducks, donning a frilly pink apron and oven mitts as he did so. At least that’s how you imagined it. “Why not just feed them the seeds?”

“Because, loose seeds will sink in the water and can potentially clog waterbeds and cause foreign bacteria growth in the pond.” 

“So you… hand-make the seeds into a little loaf of bread so it doesn't do that?”

He confirmed. You pondered silently for a moment, then absolutely had to ask, “You ever eaten the duck bread before?”

Spencer was caught off guard by that question. His cheeks deepened to a rosy color.

“Yeah, well, it was the house so…” he laughed nervously and stared at his sneakers. “It’s actually not too bad.”

You weren’t entirely surprised by that. You remembered what his grocery basket looked like, and given those same options, you probably would’ve tried the duck bread too. Still, you cracked the smallest of grins at knowing he makes bread for ducks. The one, sole redeeming fact you’ve learned about Spencer. 

You reached your car first, and Spencer stopped in front of it with you. 

“I’m actually sorry, you know,” he whispered once more, hand resting at the top of your car door as you opened it. He wasn’t talking about the incident at the bookstore.

“Yeah…” For a while you were so busy being angry at Spencer that you forgot about your own problems. 

He noticed your nose was still red around the edges, eyes still a little bleary. “Are you okay, by the way?” His voice was too soft, too genuine.

You shook your head no.

“Is there anything I can do?” You shook your head again. And then you had an awful thought.

You knew he was just offering to help just to say it, because that’s how people react when you say you’re not okay even if they don’t care. But there actually was something he could do for you… Something that Penelope could do.

“Uh, no but…” you fixed your hair and tucked it behind your ear, seamlessly switching to a flirtier voice. “If you still feel bad about the other day, you’re welcome to make it up to me.”

Spencer cocked his head to the side, unsure of how he could do that. 

“Hang out with me sometime.”

“H-hang out?” You could tell that it flustered him, even if he tried to play it off. He swallowed thickly, nose twitching and brows scrunched together.

“Relax, I really do just mean hang out.” You were lying through your teeth. He didn’t need to know that. 

As if he didn’t want to think about it for a second longer and just get out of this conversation as quickly as possible, he agreed without thinking it through. He didn’t even ask why an almost complete stranger would want to hang out with him. 

You stuck your hand out, expecting him to hand over his cell so you could put your contact into it. He rocked on the balls of his feet, watching as you input your contact and sent yourself a text on his phone.

“Hi, this is…” you read out your message as you typed, pausing at just the right place. “What’s your name by the way?”

“Oh-uh, I’m Spencer.” 

A devilish grin took over your face, hidden from his view while you were looking down at the screen. He was going to be easy to fool.

-

-

agh! im still not in love with how this chapter is turning out, but it came to a point where i just had to stop fiddling with it and just post it. any feedback or comments about this story is very much appreciated 💕

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[gayregis]

what's a witcher headcanon you have but has literally nothing to back it up?

like i know eskel would be scary good at estimating times for a microwave and milva would be a god at jenga. why/how do i know this? who's to say

i can actually somewhat explain both of those headcanons. eskel either can cook (correct, wholesome headcanon) or can’t (wrong, stereotypical canon) and both of these possibilities mean he has to know how to use a microwave really really well. as for milva, butches love construction, jenga is practically the science of building houses but as a game.

as for my own... hm kind of difficult because a lot of my headcanons are based in canon so... some of these are more connected to canon than others, but they’re closer to my own uniqueness rather than sapkowski’s work:

dandelion

dandelion’s family (the de lettenhoves) paid for his college education in exchange that he would never use his true name and titles when he published his works, because they are a family largely involved in governmental appointments, and did not want any horrible saucy love poetry (most of what he wrote when he was nineteen) being linked back to them. to this day they’ve disowned him, he lost his lands, and he is forbidden from coming back to any of their estates if not undercover. it’s all very hush-hush. they tricked him into thinking that it was for his own good, telling him that his real name was far too famous, even more famous that he would be soon...

dandelion’s father died when he was young, which led his mother to guide his childhood (basically instructing the servants to raise him) in a strict and masculine direction... this obviously did not work out as planned. but it’s largely why dandelion is regarded as a disappointment by his family, because he was expected to follow in his father’s footsteps to stay at the estates (ha!) and marry (ha!) to create an alliance with another noble family.

dandelion and essi’s entire backstory that i’ve planned out: essi enrolled as a student at oxenfurt and as a first year she was appointed by the department to be under dandelion’s guidance. they hit it off on the wrong foot at first (essi thought dandelion was lazy and slovenly, dandelion thought she was prissy and stuckup). but dandelion quickly recognized that essi was extremely talented and had a gift for music, so he asked her why in hell was she directed for further guidance? she admitted that she had stage fright... horrible stage fright. he laughed, thinking she was joking. she wasn’t. the story that follows then is that essi’s stage fright was symbolized by her iconic hair which fell over one eye, which was mocked by her peers - dandelion advised her to own it instead and turn it into a persona - much like what he did when he was her age, his peers called him dandelion (buttercup) on account of his blonde hair that has a tendancy to fan out like petals, and he adopted it as his persona.

on a similar note, what dandelion’s office at oxenfurt looks like: it’s basically treated as a walk-in closet for outfits he’s purchased but doesn’t have a permanent space elsewhere for. other valuables that can’t be kept on his person or in his saddlebags are kept here too. it’s much less of an office to do work and way more of a storage room. the desk has many finished bottles of alcoholic drinks and a lot of manuscripts stored inside (his own, because of the works he admires, he can recall from memory precisely what was written in them)

milva (sorry all of them are about her being a lesbian)

the dryads of brokilon adore milva more than they would ever let on. they find her very interesting because she’s a human, but she’s also one of them, but she also works with the scoia’tel. when milva comes back to brokilon after a journey, she finds herself crowded by dryads asking her how she is doing and what happened on her trip. because of this, milva’s quite good at storytelling, in her own colloquialisms and manners of speech. the dryads are captured by her stories of the world beyond brokilon, and very much enjoy her company, though milva was unaware of exactly how much they enjoyed it (if you get what i’m saying). 

milva realizes she’s a lesbian in toussaint because of her encounter with the baron de trastamara, in which she rebuked his marriage proposal and cried at the kitchen table and in the stables. she appreciated the baron’s friendship more than his romantic advances, and she was crying because she was upset that she couldn’t find true romance in her heart for him. angouleme states at the kitchen table that the hunting trip was overnight, suggesting that the baron asked milva for sex. i headcanon that he did, and milva couldn’t find it in herself to say yes. when the baron became upset at this and pestered her a little to find out why she refused his advances, she had an emotional outburst at him and left at once, for she herself didn’t really know.

additionally, many of the women shopkeepers in toussaint flirted with milva but she didn’t understand their advances. particularly a fishmonger and a fletcher, both of which are OCs... it wasn’t until angouleme (not giving milva an option on whether to accept her company or not) followed milva around on errands one day that she witnessed their interactions and then (in a very annoying little sister manner) bugged milva about how cute of a couple they would be, to which milva took shock and offense. but this got milva thinking about the subject.

regis

regis took on a variety of ridiculous titles when he was younger. “the prince of darkness” and things like this. it added to his already quite-long name. it sounded as stupid as it does with me explaining it.

regis has never paid rent or taxes. he acquired the house and shop in dilingen because he came to the city after he had rehabilitated himself, and found it in a state of disrepair and abandonment. he fixed it up very nicely (perhaps much like as he did with himself... symbolism!) and grew flowers in the windowsills. when city officials came to investigate, accusing him of taking up residence illegally, he simply placed them under a vampire’s spell and told them: “nonsense, i’ve always lived here!” to which they replied, “oh, of course you have, master barber-surgeon! apologies for bothering you!”

in his house and shop in dilingen, the layout is like this: the first floor is the shop, which carries a variety of medicaments, herbal remedies, and also has a setup for surgery. behind a hidden door is the stash of mandrake brew that only select customers know to request (regis only tells them about it if he has vetted them beforehand - i.e., known them well and known them well enough that he knows he will not start an addiction for them, i.e., he doesn’t sell to the young and stupid, or horribly depressed and afraid, but just those looking to enjoy life). the second floor is his house, which is decorated sparsely much like his cottage nearby fen carn. it’s nicer, with furnishings sourced from around the city, but is still humble. the attic is the setup for barber-surgery, but for birds - mostly corvids but other urban birds as well, that have injured themselves or are having other troubles. he welcomes them to roost and come to him with any problems they may be having.

angouleme

angouleme’s biological mother was young(ish) when she had her, which also pressured her into giving her up to relatives - she was an unmarried maiden, and being a noble, that is significant for making political alliances with other noble families. they pretended she was a virgin so she could remarry and bear children in marriage; however, because she and the other nobility of cintra were slaughtered, caught right in the crossfire of the nilfgaardian massacre of cintra, she didn’t survive into her first pregnancy, so angouleme has no bioligical half-siblings.

angouleme is trans and likes dressing femininely, but on account of her situation was never able to on the road, until she got to toussaint and had not only the safety but the finances to do so. somewhat based on canon that she was happy to get out of riding pants in lady of the lake, the narration calls her a “pretty girl”... it’s just nice to imagine her happy and with gender euphoria instead of dysphoria

regis is a good mentor and guardian to her in toussaint. it started as them both being up late in the kitchen and regis (as he does) giving advice, without suggesting any shame or judgement. after a while, angouleme trusted him enough to ask him for help when she got into trouble with local banditry. thens he invited him to help her on heists. he was hesitant at first but agreed, citing that she needed supervision for such activities. he brings a book to read while she does whatever she needs to do, but perhaps is more involved than he would admit - pointing out hidden safes and such in the darkness with his vision.

i didn’t do any for cahir or geralt because i feel like canon’s already gotten them enough? 

[higuchimon]

[fanfic] Extra Training

"Where are you going?"  Ryouga wanted to know.  Iris tucked her D-Gazer into her pocket, checked on her deck, and shrugged.

"To the movies with Haruto,"  she told him.  Like she did every weekend.  It was something to do that wasn't dueling - not that she disliked dueling, there wasn't really any way that she could, not with having grown up in a household of duelists.  But it wasn't the be-all and end-all of her existence, and she only carried the deck around because Vector would start handing out knives if she didn't. 

Not that Iris had anything against knives, either, but the way Ryouga and Rio both stared at Vector when he offered her extra lessons told her quickly they didn't need to know how good she was with them, even without Vector's help.  Uncle Michael gave her sword-fighting lessons every weekend after all.  Edged weapons were as useful a tool as a dueling deck, and one that most people were less likely to think an eighteen year old might use against them.

Iris far preferred to handle her own problems.  The last time she'd complained about someone being annoying, everyone in the family plus a few extras - such as Uncles Michael, Thomas, and Chris, as well as Uncle Yuuma and Uncle Kaito, came down on the offender like the proverbial ton of bricks.  It took months> for anyone to ever talk to her again at school.

At least she didn't have to worry about that with Haruto.  They all liked Haruto and he knew how not to get on their bad sides.  Plus, he'd learned more than a few things that his brother didn't know about, so he kept her secrets about what she could do that her elders didn't know.

And he was a fantastic sparring partner.

Ryouga regarded her thoughtfully, then nodded.  "Enjoy yourself,"  was all he said.  Iris knew what that meant - don't murder someone without one heck of a good reason.  She was fine with that.  Rio had taught her what a good reason was.  So far she hadn't had to kill anyone and she didn't really want to.  She liked learning dueling and fighting for reasons aside from blood-lust, no matter what Vector swore by. 

So she headed out of the mansion and to the center of town, where Haruto sat outside of Heartland Tower and waited for her, kicking his feel lazily in a fountain.  She vaguely remembered that he'd been a bit sickly and weak when they were children.  Most of that had been before she'd come to this world, so she'd heard of it mostly as stories from Ryouga and Uncle Kaito, or from Haruto himself.  When she'd first met him, he'd been getting better, and she'd helped him improve over the years.

Now one couldn't tell that he'd ever been at risk of dying at all.  He leaped to his feet as soon as he caught sight of her and waved, eyes bright with joy.

"Ready?"  He wanted to know as she drew closer.  Iris smiled; she did enjoy spending time with him.  And she enjoyed what they were about to do just as much.  Maybe even a bit more.

"Ready."  She nodded, one hand dropping down to where she kept her duel disk - and the little secret hidden inside the same pocket.  Haruto nodded as well, and the two of them headed off.  Both of them knew very well that Omoid - oldest offspring of Obomi and Orbital 7 - followed them.  Omoid followed Haruto anywhere he went and did anything he could in order to help him. 

Haruto had had to do a little reprogramming as he got older to make sure Omoid kept certain things he and Iris did a secret, but as long as they came home without any major injuries, most things could be hidden from the eye of elder siblings.  Iris did wonder how much Uncle Kaito really knew.  He didn't seem like the type of person who would easily be deceived. Yet if he did know what they did - not every lesson they had from Uncle Michael was sanctioned - he said nothing at all about it.

They arrived at the Arclight mansion relatively quickly.  This wasn't their original home, or so Iris had been told.  They moved to Heartland on a regular basis a few years earlier and set up residence.  That was fine with her.  She liked spending time with all of them.

Though she wasn't ever going to forget the day that Uncle Thomas and Uncle Vector both ended up baby-sitting her at the same time.  Three fire trucks, five police cars, and she still didn't know how they'd avoided being arrested.  Ryouga didn't like to talk about it.

Michael welcomed them there as soon as they entered, guiding them to the familiar sparring grounds. 

"It's just us today,"  he told them.  "Chris is working with Kaito and Mizael helping out Father."  His lips twitched.  "I'm not quite certain where Thomas is, though.

That was fine with Iris, and apparently Haruto to.  She'd known about them being busy anyway.  She slipped her duel disk out, flipped open the hidden slot in the back, and her sword hilt dropped into her hand. 

"I'm ready for training!"  She declared, and Haruto matched her motions with his own.  Michael chuckled.

"I didn't expect anything less," he told them, and the three of them settled down to the business of sparring together.  Iris snapped the hilt, hitting the hidden button, and the blade itself unfolded.  This was new technology, spurred on by various companies in the city, and Michael had given each of them one of these as a surprise present.  It certainly made keeping these lessons secret from the rest of the family a lot easier.

She took the lead, approaching quickly, and striking.  They didn't often work with live steel first, but Michael's point of view on the matter was that one, they needed to use it as often as possible, and two, they needed to be careful. Using wooden or foam bats wouldn't teach caution. He knew how to take care of virtually any injury they could inflict on each other, and after five years of learning, they both knew how not to hurt the other.  Michael promised that they would be able to hurt other people if the time ever came.

Iris wasn't so sure if she wanted that, but she also knew the first lesson he'd taught her - never to pick up a weapon of any kind, be it a sword or a duel disk, unless you were both willing and capable of using it.  The Numbers War was long over, but who knew when something else might happen and she might be one of those called to arms.  Better to be ready and never need it, than need it and not be able to do anything.  Ryouga and Rio absolutely agreed on that, at least.

So she sparred and she learned, and Haruto fought her with all of his strength.  She pushed back, struck down carefully, judging her strength and where she aimed, and pushed him back.  He twisted his blade, making an attempt to disarm her, and she stepped back, getting out of the clinch and taking a different angle for her counterattack.  As time ticked by, Iris could not contain the pure joy that came from being able to do this at all.

She remembered her life in the past very clearly, and how she'd died.  She might not want to attack other people, but she would always want to be able to defend herself.  That was one of the reasons her clothes were specially made to be just shy of being actual armor.  Ryouga had insisted on that after they'd all come back from the trip to the Astral-Barian World.  She'd never been there, but she kind of wanted to, one of these days.

Metal clattered against metal, ringing loudly, but they could still hear Michael's firm voice instructing them on what to do.  Eventually he called a halt - both of them dripped sweat, and Iris wanted something to drink.  She slipped her sword's blade back into the hilt and started to turn around for the exit.

In the exit there stood Ryouga.  No, not Ryouga - Nasch. Her king.  His eyes stern and his lips not smiling at all.  Iris swallowed and essayed a smile of her own.

"This isn't a movie,"  he said quietly.  "This is very much not a movie."

"I know."  Iris agreed.  It wasn't as if she could argue that.  She would keep the secret, but he clearly already knew it.  She'd never been able to argue with him when he looked at her like that.  She worried at her lip, then mentally shrugged.  "It's just extra lessons, that's all."

Nasch nodded faintly.  "How long have you been doing this?"

"A while now,"  she answered.  Neither Haruto or Michael said anything else.  She suspected Michael was a little annoyed, if only because Nasch had entered without - she guessed - asking permission. 

"I can guess."  He crossed his arms, regarding her thoughtfully.  "Have you been hurt?"

"Nothing bad."  Iris shrugged.  "I can hold my own.  We're good at this."

His eyes softened ever so lightly and she began to breathe easily.  Or at least easier. "I noticed.  Did you relay think I believed you were going to the movies?  That you like them that much?"

Iris ducked her head.  "I hoped?"  Didn't most teenagers go to movies with friends?   She didn't think she was that out of touch.  Sure, she didn't have that many friends at school she could open up to, but she'd heard them all talking about movies and going on dates.  She did like movies, but going to see them every week just seemed boring.  She would have far preferred going to the ocean or up to the mountains.  The few times she'd hung out with Yamikawa at the Duel Lodge had been very instructive. 

"I think it's going to be a couple of weeks before you do this again,"  he told her quietly.  "And if you want to do it again, then I want to know about it before you go.  Understand?"

"Got it."  Iris knew she was getting off easy.  Ryouga nodded slightly before he looked at Haruto.  "Kaito's probably going to say the same thing to you."

"Kaito-sama already knows,"  Omoid piped up. "I told him after their firsts unofficial lesson."

Haruto blinked.  "I thought I reprogrammed you so you wouldn't do that."

"You did."  Kaito stepped up next to Nasch.  "I reprogrammed him back." 

Iris could see the pride in Kaito's eyes regardless of his words.  Whatever else he felt, he was glad Haruto could do these things.  If Kaito had really objected, then they would have known it long before this.

Ryouga gestured to her, and she started over.  She knew that she wasn't going to be seriously grounded - he'd let up on the punishments and let her make her own mistakes for a while now.  He wouldn't be that upset about extra lessons.  If anything, what had to have upset him was that she'd not told him the truth.  He'd get over it. 

Just to prove it, she glanced over to Michael and to Haruto.  "I'll see you next week,"  she addressed Michael first, then Haruto.  "Tomorrow?"

"Sure,"  Haruto agreed calmly, with Michael nodded.  He was clearly having trouble keeping himself from laughing.  Kaito and Ryouga both snorted, but Iris knew what they sounded like when they were upset, and this wasn't it.  Everything was fine. 

Together they all headed out.  Iris couldn't have been more satisfied with what happened.  She'd had a great workout and she didn't have to hide her extra trips from the others anymore.  She'd more or less wanted to tell them from the beginning; events just hadn't fallen out that way.  Being older did come with some advantages. 

Ryouga still made her wear her helmet on the way home. 

The End

Notes: One day I might write more about Omoid and Haruto. You really think Kaito wouldn’t have one of those little bots assigned to keep an eye on his brother?

Ryouga was probably a lot angrier than he let on, but Iris is eighteen. She can make her own decisions, and Rio probably lectured him on that. Maybe I will write that side piece eventually.

[trash-muse]

Ask Meme: What Would You Know About Love?

WHO: John Constantine, Zatanna and Asmodel @dark-musngs - with special guests Adam Constantine and Lyla Rose WHAT: Ask Meme - [forehead touch] your muse rests their forehead against my muse’s WHERE: Various places WHEN: Various WARNINGS: None. Trying something a little different - with time jumps.

2040 - Star City

“What would you know about love, Constantine?”

The bar was full of rowdy patrons, all drinking their fill and creating a constant hum of noise so loud that one could barely hear themselves think. But Adam Constantine heard the woman sitting across from him just fine. She eyeballed him impatiently, lips pursed ready to demand an answer.

Lyla Rose was one of Adam’s nearest and dearest friends. She was also quite possibly the bane of his existence. Well, maybe her and his boyfriend were tied for that title. Sorry... ex-boyfriend.

Every time Adam thought things would finally work out, his ex would find some other reason why they couldn’t be together. However, like fools they would fall back into one another again. It was like they were stuck on the old carousel horses. Up, down. Round and round.

But then, it was like his Dad said...

“Love is complicated.”

2020 - Central City

The morning sun streamed through the point where the curtains met, sending a warm beam of light across the bed. Adam stirred, shifting and freeing a hand to try and rub the offending light out of his eyes. It took a few moments, but after opening his bright blue eyes, Adam realised it was morning.

Hopping out of bed, Adam shuffled over to his bedroom door, yawning as he opened it and exited out into the hallway. He could hear voices in the kitchen - the accented baritone of his Daddy’s voice and the slightly lower octave of Azzie’s were easily recognisable. They sounded soft as they chatted away, making breakfast, and Adam knew they hadn’t realised he was awake yet.

He didn’t know what made him stop and watch them for a moment. Why he didn’t just join them with a good morning hug. But with head tilted slightly, Adam paused at the end of the hallway and just watched the private moment between John and Azzie.

“... Zatanna would have stayed if you asked her to.” Azzie seemed to continue an earlier conversation as he brought three plates over to the stove. His Daddy was making bacon and eggs. Adam could smell the delicious smell filling the apartment.

“She has her own place, Az.” John replied, using the spatula to turn the food. He was such a good cook, especially breakfast foods. “And they’ve fixed it up real nice too after what happened. Don’t blame her for going back. It makes this place look utter rubbish.”

“John...” Azzie sounded like he didn’t agree. He put the plates down and moved closer to John, hugging him from behind and resting a chin on his shoulder. Adam had seen them cuddle like that a number of times. He liked to imagine that is wasn’t just Azzie’s arms wrapping around his Daddy but his wings too. Of course, Azzie didn’t have wings in that moment. But if they were there, Adam was sure his imagination was right.

His dad put down the spatula and turned toward Azzie, which Azzie responded to with dropping his head forward and resting his forehead against John’s. It was a tender moment Adam thought nothing of at the time but would later no doubt recall the love between them.

“You love her.” Azzie so low that if Adam hadn’t of crept closer he wouldn’t have been able to hear it.

John sighed and didn’t deny it. But he didn’t exactly admit it either. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Why not?” Azzie didn’t sound like he was going to be convinced. A bit like the time Adam tried to lie and say he had brushed his teeth and he hadn’t. Azzie was very good at picking up on lies.

“Because love is complicated.”

“It’s not with us.” Azzie moved closer still, hands moving over John’s back. In turn, John hooked his arms over Azzie’s shoulders and the food sizzled away in the silent pauses.

“Not now. Hasn’t always been this easy.” His Daddy must have smiled because Azzie smiled back. They kissed gently and hugged tighter, not a gap between them. “Besides, Z doesn’t feel the same.” John jumped back to talking about Zatanna. Adam loved her too and wished she had stayed, but he guessed she wanted to go home. He was allow to visit but it wasn’t the same. “There’s too much that’s happened.”

“What happened?” Adam piped up before he could stop himself. Seeing no point in remaining hidden, he moved out into the kitchen, casting a curious looking in his dad’s direction.

Two sets of eyes shot toward him but Azzie was quicker to recover. “Don’t worry about it, kid.” He said, peeling away from his dad and coming over and picking him up. Adam giggled, he always loved being scooped up and hugged by Azzie. Maybe that’s why his Daddy loved him. Azzie gave the best hugs.

2040 - Star City

“Love is complicated. Love hurts. Blah, blah, you’ve said this all before, Constantine. Still doesn’t explain why you’re holding out for a bloke that won’t commit. That won’t share all his secrets until they show up and punch you in the gut.” Lyla wasn’t giving up and certainly wasn’t taking his answer without further explanation. Adam knew a certain white clad canary that had treated his dad with that same brash demand for less bullshit and more answers.

Adam rubbed a spot just below his ribs, right where his ex’s secret little half sister had punched him and winded him before he could ask her what she was doing in his apartment. His ex’s apartment. Adam didn’t blame her for the reaction. She had thought she was coming to an empty safe house. Adam thought he was surprising his boyfriend by coming home early. It was all a misunderstanding. Still it hurt that his ex had kept a secret sister and hid his involvement in the Canaries movement from him.

But, despite the hurt and the lies, Adam loved him. There would never be a moment he wouldn’t love him. The secrets hurt but Adam understood the reason for them. It was for protection. Still didn’t stop the words he lashed out with in anger. Didn’t stop him from walking out and seeking his best friend to go drown his stupidity and sorrows at the pub.

Maybe it was like what his Mum said...

“Love is forgiveness.”

2021 - Central City

The Van Geld Opera House in Central City wasn’t just host to the opera but a many number of stage performances. It was here the great magician, Zatanna Zatara, wooed her audiences with dazzling illusions and mesmerizing tricks. All eyes were captivated by her performance but none more so than the little blonde boy waiting in the wings.

As the red velvet curtains dropped and the crowd cheered, Zatanna rose from her bow and smiled at the little boy, giving him a wink that sent him scampering off backstage with a giggle. She waved off any stage hands and assistants that approached her with polite gratitude, and followed the sounds of childlike joy back to her dressing room.

“If I had known you wanted to bring Adam to see a show, I would have given you tickets.” Zatanna half scolded the man lounging on the dressing room sofa.

John took the mild chastisement with a smirk and a shrug, not put off that he might have been in trouble. “It was a last minute decision, love. You were all sold out.” He replied, watching Zatanna as she made her way to the vanity and placed her hat on the table.

“Mumma, are you mad?” Adam turned his bright blue eyes toward her, looking like he was ready to apologise for doing something wrong.

Zatanna laughed and shook her head, taking the few short steps back across the room to Adam and crouching to his level. “No, my little one, I could never be mad at you.” She offered a hug which Adam accepted eagerly. He really was a mumma’s boy. “I was just surprised by your visit, that’s all.” She rested her forehead against Adam’s, like she was sharing a secret with him. “Even if I was mad, I’d forgive you. Because love is forgiveness. And I love you so much.”

Adam giggled at the extra squeeze in the hug he was given, completely unaware of the look exchanged between his parents. The one that knew that message of forgiveness ran so much deeper. That if they hadn’t sorted out the complicated between them and forgiven their mistakes - mostly John’s mistakes, but who’s keeping score - then this family moment wouldn’t exist.

John watched the pair with unrestrained love in his eyes. Those before him plus the angel waiting for them back home - it was the family he had been missing and secretly craving all his life. “Besides, you still got a good view of Z pulling a rabbit out of a hat, right kid?” He asked with a chuckle.

“No Daddy!” Adam spoke up, excited once more and speaking a hundred mile a minute. “It was elephants. They were floating then PFFFT... they disappeared.”

“Wow, elephants, really?” John asked his son with the slightly false amazement a parent takes on to share in their wonder.

“Alright, boys. Home time.” Zatanna interrupted before the pair would go off on another tangent. She loved seeing their interactions - fatherhood really suited John - but she didn’t think they’d want to spend all night chatting. It was after Adam’s bedtime, after all.

2040 - Star City

“Love is forgiveness?” There was the ever present scoff in that question. The one that said Lyla thought he was off his rocker. “So what? He lied to you and you’re just going to forgive him?”

“I hope so.” A new voice approached the table.

“Will.” Adam looked up, noting the fact his ex looked more insecure and awkward in that moment then he had ever been in Adam’s presence. And Adam had bared witness to his poor attempts at flirting.

William Clayton stood rocking onto his toes with his hands shoved into his trouser pockets, looking extremely out of place and uncomfortable in the seedy bar. “Can we talk? ... In private.”

Adam nodded and rose from his seat, leading Will outside and into the side alley. They stood there, watching each other for a few moments before suddenly both speaking at the same time.

“I shouldn’t have gone off at you like that.”

“I should have told you from the start.”

Both men chuckled before Adam made a gesture for Will to say his bit first. Will nodded in thanks, wanting to get what he had to say off his chest.

“Adam, I should have told you from the start.” Will repeated, sounding utterly sorry. “I only just found out about Mia recently and thought it was safer to keep as many people in the dark about her as possible. I should have told you about her. I should have told her about you. I just... I was scared. I’ve already lost my family once. I didn’t want to lose it again.” He paused with a sigh, still standing out of arm’s reach. “But all I’ve managed to do is tear it apart anyway."

Adam looked at Will with a somewhat dumbfounded expression. Will, in his roundabout way had just admitted he thought they were family. That level of commitment was light years beyond what Will had expressed before. Maybe Mia had knocked some sense into him as well.

“I really hope you meant what you said about love being forgiveness.” Will continued, finally stepping closer and taking his hand out of his pockets. He reached out, hesitating to take hold of Adam’s hand. “I forgive you. And I love you so much.”

Adam drew in a long breath, unaware he was holding it until he heard those words. It was the first time Will admitted that he loved him. “I forgive you. And I love you too, Will.“ Adam replied, closing the gap between them and pulling Will into a kiss. “Love is complicated. But, I think we can work it out together.”

[thebridgehqs]

One day, there is blinding sunshine and you can’t spend an hour outside without getting a bit burnt in the heat. The next, the rain has come back with a bitterly cold wind that gets into your bones. The seasons have changed, and with it, Halloween is quickly approaching. All over the city, things are happening, and not all of them can be explained.

See under the cut for a list of Halloween events that are running, some all month, and others just for the spookiest night of the year.

ooc information: 

Threads can start any time, but we ask that people do not post event starters past Friday the 13th of November, to bookend the spooky season. Of course, you can take as long as you’d like to continue threads after that.  

Please tag any open starters with thebridge: halloween and the location of the starter to make it easier for other players. 

CBD:

Platinum Cinema is airing a different scary movie every day of the month and offers a five percent discount on concessions for anyone dressed up. That discount goes up to ten percent if you are dressed as a character from the movie you’re seeing. Don’t ask how they got movies that weren’t made in this time, that’s not a question you want answered.

The Jolly Roger is offering pirate cruises around the harbour. The crew are all pirates – some of them even real pirates – and they’ll teach you how to swordfight if you ask nicely. If you cause trouble, you’ll really walk the plank, so don’t wear a costume that might weigh you down. If you have a little magic to spare, the captain might even arrange for a flight cruise over the city itself.

The Rocks:

Ghost tours are running every night of the month, starting through the Rocks but leading through other parts of the city to showcase the true and often horrifying history of the city. The thing is, the tour guides, they don’t seem to be real, exactly, and you’ll come away wondering where the ghosts really were. 

The Roadhouse is not the type of place ghosts are welcome. You’ll notice the tour guides stay well away from it, but for any people who do go in, there is a chance for a free drink. If you can tell a scary story that impresses owner Jo Harvelle, your next round is free. But fair warning, she does expect realism. 

Want a stunning costume and a guarantee you won’t look exactly like someone else? Marinette Dupain-Cheng has rented out a room here in the Rocks and offers a cheap tailoring service if you’ve bought a costume that doesn’t quite fit, and a more exclusive costume design service where she’ll make you a one of a kind costume.

Darling Point:

Crimson Rooftop is well known for being a classy place, and Halloween is no exception. On the night of Halloween itself, they are offering a free drink with dinner to guests who are dressed as classic characters, nothing gaudy or foolish. There are also rumours that the meals might even just magically appear on your plate.

Harry Osborn has issued an open invitation to a masquerade party at his manor on Halloween night. It is hardly the only party going on that night, even in Darling Point as well, but it will be a fancy night for all guests.

King’s Cross:

Ember’s Club has decorated appropriately for the month, and the dancers have changed costumes for the month to get into the spirit – absolutely no pun intended, no matter what you might see around the place.

On Halloween, Club Loophole will be exclusive to Arcadia members for the night, with the mysterious leader hosting a party for only the gang itself. Costumes are optional but highly encouraged, and everyone knows better that to disappoint the leader.

In contrast to their well-known rivals, The Phantom is opening their doors to everyone, and making a point of it. They’ll also be holding a costume competition – the person with the best costume in the club at midnight will get their tab paid off, meaning they drink free.  

The Whiskey Chef is offering thematic drinks with their meals all month, and on Halloween, they’re offering a lucky raffle. If your name is called out, you’ll dine free.

If you want to party and you’re okay with the odd displays of magic, but don’t want to go somewhere too crazy, then why not stop by Magnus Bane’s party? Please dress up, whether that means just dressing nicely or in a costume, but a good time is guaranteed to be had – if you don’t drink the wrong thing.

Newtown:

One street, popular with university students, is running a series of haunted houses. Some of these are exactly what you’d expected from a bunch of students, while others are more innovative and use creative technology for bigger scares. And if it so happens that maybe some Weirdsister students got involved in the fun to make their house the spookiest, well, it’s all in good fun.

On the night known by most as Halloween, the university campus will find it much harder to deny the allegations that there is a secret magical campus hidden within the school. To fit the actual season of the southern hemisphere, a Beltane feast will be held on the 30th, and it’ll magically appear on the university grounds for all to enjoy. There will be many traditional events surrounding the feast, such as a bonfire, and it will last from sunset on the 30th to sunset on the 31st, where all traces will magically disappear again.

Ever wanted to learn your future? Ron Weasley is offering the chance for you to find out. If you can find him in the haunted houses in the whole week leading Halloween, he’ll take you aside and tell your future. He doesn’t guarantee you’ll like what he tells you, or that it’ll make sense, but it will be true.

Bondi:

Over the weekend before Halloween itself, Bondi will host a series of competitions during the sunny days of the weekend. To enter, you must compete in a costume the entire time. For each competition, you are scored, and the winner of each round gets a free dinner for two at the Beach House, located right on the waterfront, and the ultimate winner gets $1000. The competition includes: a 5km race, surfing, a 5km swim, weightlifting, and long jump. It is possible to just compete in one round and not the whole thing, but you’d lose the chance of the final prize.

It’s not strictly allowed to host parties on the beach, not that it stops smaller gatherings which go ignored. However, it’ll be impossible to ignore the fantastic display put on by Rose Weasley. With fireworks, bonfires, and plenty of alcohol, this party is sure to end up with more than a little trouble by the time it’s over. 

Balmain:

Interested in something family friendly? Well, Balmain is closing off several streets to make a safe zone for children to go trick or treating without worrying about traffic. Each house along those streets will have appropriate décor – nothing too scary for the little ones – and plenty of candy to give away.

One street will also be holding a street party on All Hallows Eve, where everyone is invited. It’s potluck, so consider bringing something to share. There’ll also be dancing, but the party will be over by 1am.

Parramatta:

Just outside Parramatta, a large field has been turned into a drive-in theatre. Every day of the month, they’re showing family friendly Halloween movies, and after sunset, the movies are truly horror movies. It doesn’t matter if the movies are from another time, or if characters see their stories played out on the screen, it’s free and it’s fun.

Also just outside Parramatta, Rohirrim Stables is offering spooky horse rides, led by owner Eowyn. Bring a picnic lunch or dinner, depending what time you come by, if you dare to eat in the middle of the woods. 

Liverpool:

One farm just outside Liverpool has been turned into a delightfully spooky maze. There are some people who come out of it saying that there are impossible creatures inside the maze, but… at least they got to leave the maze.

Inspired by a legend of a nearby suburb, Liverpool is holding a festival. There will be performers entertaining the crowds, a couple of rides that should certainly not exist in the 20’s, and a parade of spooky costumes. It’s family friendly, and also very popular for daredevils who want to go on the rides.

Note: if you want your muse to win any of the competitions running at any of the locations, please message Admin Mac. You can also message Admin Mac if you want to add any events that are open to muses, whether at someone’s home or their business.

[fraink5-writes]

From Darkness Into the Lantern Light - Chapter 12

Ooohhh, we’re almost at the end, boys! If anyone sees this, I made a “limited-time” invitation on Ao3 for anyone who wants to be my Genshin friend, so I might as well extend it to y’all too.

@leio13​ is the best for editing this

Summary: Once upon a time, there was a cold-hearted queen. Although the Tsaritsa, as she was called, possessed her own divinity, she coveted the powers of the other Archons. Aiming to steal the Geo Archon’s gnosis, she sent her strongest warriors to Liyue Harbor. But just when Rex Lapis was almost defeated, he escaped to another vessel, that of a powerless baby, and was swept away to a hidden tower for his protection.

Many years after the great fight, the young and ambitious Harbinger, Childe, arrives in Liyue to grant the Tsaritsa’s desire, but, on his search for the Geo Archon’s gnosis, he ends up tangled in a mysterious man’s dreams to see Liyue Harbor’s Lantern Rite.

This chapter can also be found on Ao3 here. Without further ado, please enjoy!

Ajax woke up to a widespread ache and the cold sting of shackles on his wrists and ankles. He had been chained to the far wall in a small cell—undoubtedly in a Liyue prison. Although this was the first time he had been incarcerated, he accepted the fact with a simple sigh; it was about time karma had caught up with him. No amount of diplomacy (if any would even be attempted) would be able to free him from this confinement. While he would have preferred death in battle, that fact made imprisonment all the more suitable a punishment. He would be stripped of all his worldly joys just as he had done to countless people in the past.

Still, Ajax did have some selfish regrets. He wished to see his family. Before, he had tried to content himself with sending them frequent letters and gifts, but, having been deprived of even that, he wanted nothing more than to see their faces. Nevertheless, he would have to settle for his imagination. Even if it were possible, Ajax would not be brave enough to face them. How could he tell his family—especially his younger siblings who admired him as the greatest toy seller—of his crimes?

As for Ajax’s other regret, he wanted to see Zhongli again although he had lost any right to do so. He had told Zhongli that he would stay by his side, but he had left him again and again, and this time, the gap created could not be amended. Nor should it be. As a Harbinger, he could only bring harm to Zhongli by being with him. It was too late to play games of ignorance about each other and live in artificial harmony. If betrayal was the only possible ending for them, then perhaps they should have never met in that tower to begin with.

But, no. Ajax shook all the complacent, self-pity from his mind. He couldn’t leave Zhongli in that tower. Not alone and especially not with her—la Signora. She had trapped Zhongli in her cozy web of malice and had been playing a decades-long waiting game. But soon, she would consume him. Ajax had to stop her. Even if it were an impossibility, even if the story could only be a tragedy, he had sworn to himself to be Zhongli’s hero. 

Ajax attempted to stand, but he was held down by his chains. Even still, he writhed violently, until the sore wounds from his fight with la Signora defeated him, and he lay still on the floor. 

In the end, all this power I’ve accumulated is useless for protecting anyone. 

As Ajax waited for the announcement of his sentence, he watched the subtle shift of shadows on the stone floor. Finally, a voice called from outside the cell. “Is that how a Harbinger keeps himself in jail?”

“Without the diplomacy, you’re pretty pathetic, huh?” Another voice chimed in. Perhaps, this wasn’t his sentence after all. Ajax glanced up to see a group of four familiar faces in black, white and red—definitely not the Milllelith. 

Ajax sat up to face the band of sailors. “What are you guys doing here?”

“We’re here to break you out,” the leader, Juza, answered, a ring of keys dangling in his hand, which he used to open the barred gate. “Suling forged a master key for this place. There should be one for your cuffs too.” Sure enough, he flipped through the keys and found one that could be inserted into the shackles, unlocking them one by one.

“I don’t understand. Why?”

“Shh, don’t make a fuss.” Yinxing chided Ajax. “Let me examine you. On your back.” With no room for complaint, Ajax silently followed the surgeon’s instructions. “You’ve taken quite a beating. Surely, the guards didn’t do this to you?”

“Then, we’d be in deep trouble.” Xu Liushi chuckled nervously.

“No, la Signora, eighth of the Harbingers....”

The fleet exchanged glances before Juza resumed, “Anyway, if you can walk, we need to get out of here quickly.”

The group crept out of the cell and down the hall, but it wasn’t long before they spotted their first guard at the corner.

“Ugh, already?” Furong whined. 

“I’ll take care of it,” Xu Liushi volunteered. “I can manage something.” With that he staggered sinuously down the hallway. 

“What are you doing here?” The guard barked.

“Haahhhh?? I work ‘ere.” Xu Liushi turned around woozily. “Izznt dis de harbor?”

“No.” The guard could barely stifle his laughter. “Wait, I know you—aren’t you the guy who got drunk at Third-Round Knockout?”

“Yess.” 

“Still drinking? I guess you haven’t changed.”

“Not true! I downed four bowls this time!”

“Alright.” The guard condescended. “I’ll show you to the harbor, but I’m not sure how happy they’ll be to see you.” 

Xu Liushi shot Ajax’s group a look with a slight scowl before the guard grabbed his arm and escorted him from the building.

“Well, that’s one taken care of.” Furong brushed her hands together in satisfaction.

“Poor guy…” Yinxing sighed. “He’s been sober for so many years…”

“We have to keep going,” Juza cut in. “We can meet him again at the harbor.”

When they encountered the next pair of guards, Yinxing was the one to volunteer. She meekly approached one of the Millelith. “Excuse me, sir. I am a doctor who was called here to check on the inmates, but I can’t help but notice that you seem a little unwell yourself.”

“Really?” The guard shrugged. “I feel fine.”

“I’ve never seen someone with such a concerning complexion...”

“He looks like that every day,” the other guard chimed in.

Yinxing gasped, covering her gaping mouth with her hands. “Oh no.”

“What? Is that bad?” The first guard’s laugh faltered.

“Oh, this could be very grave.” Yinxing’s eyes flittered side to side. “Could I ask you a few questions?”

“Sure, I guess?”

“Does your heart beat really fast and loudly after physical exercise?”

“...Yeah…?” The guard began fidgeting in place.

“Do you get random headaches?”

“Yeah, I guess, sometimes.”

“Do you ever feel cold and start trembling violently all over?”

“Yeah, in fact, I think it’s increased recently.”

“It’s increased? Oh dear... Oh no…”

“What is it, Doctor?”

“You could have a rare but life-threatening condition called homoios stasis. You don’t have much longer. You must get treated immediately.” She turned to the other guard. “Quick. Take him to Bubu Pharmacy. They will have the proper treatment.”

“I don’t wanna die,” the first guard whimpered as the other escorted him away.

“Well, how was that?” Yinxing returned with a smile. “He’ll be fine, by the way—except maybe a bit annoyed.”

“Let’s not linger to find out,” Juza ushered the group along. But as they sprinted towards the exit, their path was blocked by a large guard with his spear drawn.

“Doesn’t look like we can trick this guy,” Juza sighed.

“I’ll fight him.” Ajax reached for his daggers.

“Don’t be an idiot,” Furong scoffed. “We’re trying to break you out of jail. Can’t have you creating even more trouble.”

“But—”

“She’s right.” Yinxing interjected. “Besides, you are still injured. You’re going to need to gather all your strength for later.”

“I’ll go.” Furong winked at Ajax before stepping forward. “Looking for someone to fight, big guy?”

“I won’t let you guys go.”

“Oh no, of course—you have your job. But ya see, we have our own job from our boss. So, I propose a duel.”

“Call it what you want, but once I defeat all of you, I’m locking you all up.”

“Alright, fine. I never liked negotiations that much either.” With a shrug, Furong charged at the guard. Seeing she was unarmed, he loosened his guard—right before she slammed her fist into his abdomen. When he stumbled back, she landed another blow under his chin.

Ajax was enthralled by the fight, but Juza dragged him away. “She’ll catch up shortly.”

Sure enough, Furong had rejoined the group within minutes, and they met Xu Liushi at the harbor, where they boarded the Alcor.

Only when the ship had departed from the port was Ajax able to pose his preoccupying question. “Why are you guys helping me?”

“Certainly not because we like you. Captain Beidou made us,” Furong remarked offhandedly.

“Where is the Captain?”

“She’s still in the city dealing with the more… political matters,” Juza responded. “Zhongli is in danger, isn’t he? That’s why you need to deal with it.”

Zhongli? “How did you...?”

“We docked in the city around the same day as you,” the bookkeeper expounded, “and we have eyes all over the country, you know?”

Ajax thought of those adorable kids playing on the pier; were those kids ‘eyes’ too?

The helmswoman, Huixing, interrupted his train of thought. “Where to?”

“Sal Terrae.”

As the Alcor sped up north, Ajax alternated from playing with little Yue and more “appointments” with Yinxing, yet his mind never drifted far from Zhongli. Hang on just a bit more. I’ll be there soon, and then, I promise, I won’t leave you.

As the sun began taking on an orange hue, the ship anchored at Sal Terrae. From then, it was Ajax’s responsibility. He would correct and atone for his mistakes.

“Zhongli!” Ajax shouted from the base of the tower. With his many injuries, he would be unable to climb to the window. Unless Zhongli helped him. 

“Zhongli!” More than anything, Ajax just wanted a confirmation that Zhongli was still alright. “Let down your hair!”

In the ensuing moments, even Ajax's heart was silent. Finally, Zhongli's hair unfurled from the window.

[the-queer-dungeoneer]

Not Alone (Crowley x Fem! Reader) - Ch. 3/?

Previous / Next

Characters: Reader, Crowley, Aziraphale, Gabriel and likely more once we get into the thick of it.

Relationships: Crowley x Reader, Aziraphale x Reader, Aziraphale x Crowley

POV: First-person

Warnings: Death of a family friend

Tags: @curse-brekker​, @oopstheregoesmysoul13​

*gif is not mine and neither are any of the characters or source material!

Y/N = your name

Y/N/N = your nickname

Y/L/N = your last name

H/C = Hair color

E/C = Eye color

F/C = Favorite color

A/N: Chapter three is here, my loves! Yay for relationship development! Honetly, I think being close friends with Aziraphale would be such a wonderful experience. I hope you enjoy!

Thank you to my lovely editor @aka-ellie ❤️

Lots of love! - TQD

October, 2018

We went to a small Indian restaurant about half a mile from the shop. The food was impeccable, but it was shoved into second place by the lovely conversation.

This time he seemed much more interested in my upbringing. I told him about how I’d grown up with my grandparents, and how I still called my grams every day. I talked about how I had grown up in art and theatre classes, which had helped me with my anxiety and depression. I also explained that this was my motivation for working towards arts as a form of healthcare. I had experienced the benefits upfront, and they could be so helpful for so many people. I left a lot of the more unsavory details of my childhood out because it didn’t seem like the time to bear my uglier scars.

He asked me all kinds of questions about growing up in Seattle. He wanted to know all about if the seafood there was as good as he’d heard (I hate seafood, so I was the wrong person to ask about that) and I told him that I thought it might be. We talked about the interesting bookshops around the city, and I gushed that his was far better than any of them, which made him grin like a schoolboy.  

I was content wandering arm in arm with Aziraphale. I hadn’t had a meal that delicious or filling in weeks. I’d been subsisting off peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and instant noodles because of my limited budget. It was great to not feel hungry, and even better to not feel lonely. I was smiling despite myself, and there are few memories I treasure more than that one.

He walked me to my apartment and cordially held the door open once I’d buzzed myself in. His gentlemanly demeanor never seemed patronizing, always completely genuine. It was sweet.

“Would you like to come in? I have coffee and tea.”

“Oh goodness dear, it’s rather late. I do not want to take up any more of your evening,” he responded. We seemed to be caught in a dance of wanting to spend time together, but not impose. The best part was, it wasn’t just me.

“Really, Aziraphale, it’s no trouble. I stay up this late all the time. If it sweetens the deal at all, I can dig out some hot cocoa? Oh! You can even meet my bunny!”

“Well you didn’t tell me that you have a rabbit! That is all the convincing I need.” He giggled happily and followed me up the stairs.

My living space was quaint, and by quaint, I mean incredibly small. But it was all the space I could possibly need. After all, it was just me and Penelope, and I wasn’t entertaining much.

Penelope had a small hutch with a litter box and a bed, but I never closed the door. She hopped about the apartment most all day and night. I did lock her up when I was sleeping though. I had this nagging fear that she would hop into bed with me and I’d suffocate her by accident. Dark, I know, but real. Also, locking her up at night and covering the cage with a blanket meant she slept when I did, so we were on relatively the same schedule. It made life easier. Penelope had been my best friend for two years. She was a graduation present from my grandfather when I finished high school. I had hidden her in my dorm room secretly during freshman year, and against my family's wishes, I had paid the extra fees to have her travel with me all the way to London. She was more companion than pet. I read her all my papers and textbooks, I let her pee on the papers I’d gotten bad grades on, she cuddled with me on bad days and hopped around my feet in celebratory dance parties. We were inseparable.

I smiled unlocking my little red front door. The number fourteen was crooked. I should have told the landlord by now, but it added character, so I didn’t really mind.

“Where’s my little fluffernutter?” I called in a sing-song voice. I was answered with the skittering sound of bunny feet and Penelope made her way into the kitchen and slid across the tiles to greet me. She jumped straight into my arms and nuzzled against my chest. She often acted more like a dog than a rabbit. I wasn’t sure who was more co-dependent, but I didn’t care. It was nice to be needed. “Oh, hello darling! Mama missed you so much!”

“My goodness! That is the most affectionate rabbit I have ever seen! What is her name?”

“Oh, where are my manners? Aziraphale, this is Penelope,” I said hiking the small furball into the crook of my elbow, “And Penelope, this is Aziraphale,” I finished, grabbing a hold of her paw and extending it in a mock-introductory handshake.”

Aziraphale went right along with my dorky antics and shook Penelope’s paw. “It is lovely to meet such a refined lady as yourself Miss Penelope, I marvel at the pleasure.”

I couldn’t hold back my giggles. I knew I could laugh freely with Aziraphale. However, when I inadvertently snorted I stopped short and my cheeks flushed red.

“Oh well that was simply adorable,” Aziraphale giggled. “Don’t go getting all embarrassed, I have heard centuries worth of embarrassing laughs, and yours doesn’t even come close.”

I exhaled and continued my giggling fit. As I made my way into the apartment kitchen. I slid my shoes off and left them to the right of the door before padding across the outdated linoleum tiles the grab a few mugs. My kitchen, while small, was lovely. The cabinets were all a shade of robin’s egg blue and the countertops were a subtle white tile. It was the first thing when you saw when you entered and added a calming air to the room. It wrapped around into a small bar with matching blue bar stools to the left, and the rest of my studio sprawled out behind that. There was a large window facing north, which my couch (also my bed) sat underneath on the far wall. I had photos and cards from my family and friends back home as well as art pieces I’d collected over the years hung up all around. The coffee table perched in front of my couch/bed - we’ll call it my bouch - was covered in textbooks, papers and highlighters as well as a few empty bowls and a smattering of silverware. Across from the bouch was my television on top of my bookshelf. I didn’t watch much TV, but I had a Gamecube that I liked to play occasionally, to relax. At the far end of the apartment from the kitchen was my small bathroom. It was decorated all in lime green. Definitely a product of the 70’s when these apartments went up. Penelope’s hutch sat on the wall next to the bathroom door. It was just a basic black wire hutch with a hidey hole, a water bottle, food bowl and wood shavings.

I only had enough serving ware for two people, thankfully I had done most of the dishes. Usually, two-people’s-worth just meant I could eat another bowl of soup before I actually had to consider pulling out a sponge. I busied myself with tea while Aziraphale settled down on one of the barstools watching the odd dance I did to prepare everything with one arm occupied by my small rodent best friend. When she got squirmy, I set her down.

“I know it’s past your bedtime you little monster. Give me one second.” I huffed before walking over and grabbing her small blanket from the ground next to the couch. I laid it out in the hutch under the hidey hole cover where she liked to sleep and gestured at it with playful annoyance. “How’s that, your majesty?”

Apparently, it was fine because she hopped right in. I gently latched the door and flipped down the quilt that was folded on top of the hutch. She’d likely be asleep in minutes. She, like her human, loved to sleep. Naps were only second to food.

The kettle started to whistle, causing me to whip around and slide back to the kitchen. I had become an expert in the Olympic sport of sock-on-tile skating in my time, though I did smack my hip on the oven handle during my graceful finish.

“Oh, dear! Are you alright?” Aziraphale winced.

“Yeah, yeah! I am a bit of a klutz. I do stupid stuff all the time. Now! Your tea, sir. Be careful, it’s hot.” I smiled, placing a mug on the counter.

“Oh, thank you! Your apartment is beautiful. You’ve made it very welcoming. There is a lot of love in here.”

I settled down on the barstool next to him, and he started asking about all of my pictures. I pulled one of my favorites off the wall, a glossy 5x7 of myself and my grams in matching skeleton costumes. I was seven, and we went trick-or-treating around the police station where my grandpa worked. One of the officers picked me up shouting “Who left this skeleton out on the floor?! All human remains should be sealed in the evidence locker!” He tossed me over his shoulder and carried me all around the precinct. I laughed until I couldn’t breathe. He slapped an evidence sticker across my forehead and gave me a full-sized Twix bar.

Officer Peterson was a good man. He had passed away in the line of duty two years later. I was too young to really understand that. I remembered though, my grandpa had sat me down and talked to me for a long time about death and how it worked. He told me it wasn’t something bad. A lot of times it meant people weren’t hurting or scared anymore. Grandpa never backed away from the hard conversations. I was lucky for that.

This is how the evening went on. Each picture had so many memories and smiles attached. Aziraphale never ran out of questions to ask. He was so curious, as though domestic life was the most interesting thing in the world. I don’t know when three o’clock rolled around, but that didn’t stop anything. Neither of us considered wrapping things up until well after the sun started to peak through the window and Penelope started to stir in her hutch.

[x5red]

Five frequently asked Supergirl CW questions...

...and possible answers from the comics

Check social media. Read the forums. Scroll through the Subreddits. There are some questions that just refuse to go away. Time and time again fans of the CW’s Supergirl show keep asking the same old questions: How does she hide her costume? Who is stronger? Why does nobody recognise her?

Likely the questions will continue to be asked long after Melissa Benoist has hung up her cape on the final episode, but just for fun it might be interesting to take a meander through the 60+ years of Supergirl’s adventures in print, to see how successful the comics were at addressing the tv show’s most quizzed quirks.

Covered herein:

How does Supergirl fit her costume under her everyday clothes?

Why does nobody recognise that Kara Danvers is just Supergirl with glasses?

Is Supergirl more powerful than Superman?

How did Kara get her ears pierced?

How come nobody connects the name Kara Danvers with Kara Zor-El?

It’s roughly a ten minute read, peppered with interesting Supergirl pictures. Enjoy...

#1 -- How does Supergirl fit her costume under her everyday clothes?

The modern tv incarnation of Supergirl seems uncertain as to whether Supergirl’s costume uses a futuristic (and budget depleting) nano-tech solution, or a classic (and cheap) costume-under-clothes trick. Traditionally, with the exception of Matrix’s brief shape-shifting stint in the job, the comicbook Supergirl has tended to favour the latter tactic, prompting fans to ask how her costume fits under her street clothes. The first such query to reach the DC letters pages was from reader Helen Silberman of Irvington NY. In Action Comic #263 (March 1960), Helen wrote:

Dear Editor, I like SUPERGIRL very much. She is my favorite feature. But I often wonder how she conceals the long sleeves on her costume when she wears a short~sleeved dress as Linda Lee.

Acknowledging that this was a common question, editor Mort Weisinger explained that Supergirl’s super costume is super flexible.: “She merely keeps the sleeves rolled up.” This was confirmed inside the strip itself when Action Comics #342 (Oct 1966) saw Linda referencing the costume hidden under her t-shirt, and an editorial caption handily adds “Linda has rolled up the long sleeves of her super-flexible costume.”

But, respond the fans, what about her boots?

Since the Silver Age, Superman has adopted the practice of stashing his Clark Kent attire as a super-compressed parcel inside a hidden pocket in the inner lining of his cape. Various stories confirm that Supergirl does the same, and visual proof of this came in The Daring New Adventures of Superman #5 (May 1983), when she is seen reclaiming her dress from the pocket. Presumably the same pouch could hide her boots when dressed in her everyday identity?

Okay, so the boots are super-compressed inside the cape, but what about the cape itself?

This is where things start to get a little problematic.

There’s plenty of mid-transformation frames stretching back as far as Supergirl’s early Silver Age antics depicting her wearing her cape underneath her regular clothes. How she does this seems never to be explained, so we probably have to chalk this one up to a comicbook trope that readers (and now the tv viewers) just have to accept.

#2 -- Why does nobody recognise that Kara Danvers is just Supergirl with glasses?

Supergirl has adopted various means of masking her true identity down the years. The tv Supergirl hides behind a pair of glasses; her comicbook counterparts have variously used wigs, special molecule-rearranging hair dyes, shape-shifting, and advanced DEO technologies. None of these, with the exception of Matrix’s ability to shape-shift into Linda Danvers, really stands the real-world credibility test.

The problem here is that the comicbook superhero genre has its origins in a more simplistic storytelling age, were the application of just a pair of glasses, or a wig, or a fake moustache, was sufficient to create a false identity. There’s countless examples from Superman’s early decades of Lois Lane fooling the Man of Steel with just the application of a wig, and indeed the epic Silver Age tale that first revealed Supergirl’s existence to the world hangs on evil Kandorian scientist, Lesla Lar,successfully fooling Superman into believing she is Kara Zor-El by just rearranging her hair.

One can argue that Kara’s use of a wig is potentially a better disguise than Kal-El’s glasses and change of posture, but ultimately both methods have severe limitations. Research conducted by the universities of York and Huddersfield (UK) suggested that while some disguises (makeup, wigs, etc.) are effective at hiding a person’s identity, the effectiveness drops if the subject is known to the person doing the identifying. As such, in the real world, neither Clark nor Kara would stand a chance of fooling their friends and colleagues.

In Superman #330 (Dec 1978) there was a half-hearted attempt to address the problem by suggesting that the Kryptonian glass used in Clark’s eye-wear boosts a subconscious super-hypnotises power, projecting an image of Clark as feeble, but this created more problems than it solved. What happened when Clark anchored the WGBS News on tv; and how did Linda Danvers get by without any Kryptonian face furniture? So, sadly, the comics don’t really provide much of an answer -- we must write the problem off as a relic from a bygone storytelling era, that modern audiences just have to accept as part of the established baggage that comes with superheroes.

#3 -- Is Supergirl more powerful than Superman?

Although both Superman and Supergirl have Kryptonian origins, their route to Earth was markedly different. Kal-El arrived as an infant, while Kara didn’t arrive until her teenage years. Fans (at least those who have wont to obsess over such matters) have therefore speculated about how this affected their power levels.

When Supergirl first appeared in comics it became clear early on that Kal-El and Kara Zor-El had identical superpowers. There isn’t a direct comparison of the two cousins -- they never went head to head -- but DC’s writers certainly seemed to adopt the principle that any super-feats that Superman could do, Supergirl could do just as well.

That said, during Supergirl’s long history there have been periods when the power balance has clearly shifted. For example, it is reasonable to assume that the Matrix Supergirl (both pre and post merger with Linda Danvers in Volume 4) was less powerful than the Man of Steel. Indeed in the latter part of Volume 4 -- the period when Supergirl sported a white t-shirt and gloves -- she was significantly de-powered, even losing the ability to fly.

Likewise from Adventure Comics #402 to #423 (Feb 1971 to Sep 1972) the Girl of Steel had intermittent issues with her superpowers, thanks to the effects of a drug concocted by super-villain Starfire. At inopportune moments her powers would fail her entirely, resulting in Kara relying on various gadgets developed in the Bottle City of Kandor as a backup.

But wait a moment... because the balance of power hasn’t always shifted in favour of Superman.

During this Bronze Age period Superman also had issues with his powers. As part of a shake-up of the character, editor Julius Schwartz instigated a story running across Superman #240 to #242 (July to Sept 1971) that saw Superman lose a third of his power levels... permanently(!!) This was part of Schwartz’s plan to curb some of the silly excesses of Silver Age. Some fans have noted, however, that the Girl of Steel’s power loss was only intermittent, and eventually the effects of Starfire’s drug wore off entirely, so in September 1972 she technically became 50% more powerful than her cousin.

#4 -- How did Kara get her ears pierced?

Since the tv show began fans have been asking about how Kara could have pierced her earlobes of steel. It is clear from the opening moments of the pilot episode that Malina Weissman’s young Kara doesn’t appear to have any piercings when departing the dying Krypton, yet when the episode skips forward a decade to Melissa Benoist’s twenty-something Kara, she clearly does.

Show creator and producer, Ali Adler, responded to a fan’s tweeted question by suggesting that Kara had her ears done “At the mall on #krypton”, which is a fun answer, but doesn’t seem to concur with the pilot. So is there an explanation from deep within comicbook lore?

Yes. (Probably!)

The most likely explanation is that Kara used her heat vision and a mirror to burn the holes into her own earlobes. Since the early Golden Age era it has been established that Superman is strong enough to piece his own skin with his fingernails, allowing him to give a blood sample. Editors initially responded to inquiries about how Superman shaved or cut his hair and nails by suggesting that these parts of his anatomy didn’t grow under Earth’s sun. But eventually, as Superman spent more time on alien planets, they devised more creative solutions -- the heat vision haircut was one of them.

In the comics, Injustice 2 #21 (May, 2018) finally let readers see Supergirl (at least a version of Supergirl) using heat vision to cut her hair. Meanwhile the tv show had already treated viewers to Kara giving a super-trim to Mon-El’s mop in episode 2x05 - “Crossfire” (okay, so he was a Daxamite not a Kryptonian, but hey, same difference!) This suggests that Kara’s invulnerability can be defeated by her own powers in the tv universe, just like the comics, so a piercing blast from her eyes rather than a trip to the mall is probably the most satisfying answer.

#5 -- How come nobody connects the name Kara Danvers with Kara Zor-El?

It may be a small problem, but it’s one that clearly bugs some viewers. Kara Danvers not only has the same first name as Kara Zor-El, but she also pronounces it in the same distinctively European way -- “Kar-ah” not “Care-ah” (despite what Cat Grant may want us to think.)

How does she get away with this?

In the comics this generally hasn’t been a problem. Prior to the Melissa Benoist tv show, Supergirl had been known as Linda (Linda Lee, Linda Lang, Linda Danvers), or as Mae (short for Matrix), or briefly as Claire Connor. Only Kara Kent, the Supergirl of the cartoon show, Superman: the Animated Series (1996), had stuck with her Kryptonian first name. This changed in 2016, however, when DC adopted many of the tv Supergirl elements into its comicbooks, including the Kara Danvers secret identity.

Up until the tv show’s fourth season it could be argued that Benoist’s Supergirl had been very careful never to make her birth-name public, so there was little opportunity for anyone to link her two personas. But that changed in episode 4x14 - “Stand and Deliver”, when Kara can clearly be heard announcing herself as “Kara Zor-El, citizen of Earth” at a public protest, as a crowd watches. So very likely, after that incident, the Maid of Might’s Kryptonian name was plastered all over social media, and given Kara Danvers’ high profile as an award-winning journalist, we’re no closer to explaining why an army of armchair sleuths on Facebook or Reddit haven’t connected the two women.

Sadly the comics can’t really answer this Kara conundrum, because it is a problem largely of the tv show’s own making. Perhaps the only solution is to ignore episode 4x14 and assume that everyone in National City (aside from the regular cast) live in blissful ignorance of Supergirl’s Krypton name.

Conclusion

So it’s a mixed bag of success and failure. The comics provide answers to some problems, but come up empty handed for others. But perhaps we shouldn’t be too disheartened. Sure, it may be fun to devise answers to the quirks and oddities of the tv show, but ultimately it won’t stop fans from asking the same questions time and time again. The sillier aspects of superheroes are part of the genre’s charm, and trying to devise clever ways of explaining away the wackier elements is all part of the fun.

Hopefully you found the above an entertaining and informative read, but the five proffered answers shouldn’t discourage anyone from dreaming up their own explanations -- after all, these questions aren’t really properly answered until the tv show’s writers choose to answer them.

Until then, we can all have fun speculating.

[dearheartwitcher]

ocs masterpost

for ease of access! in-depth descriptions of all my favorite ocs, all in one post. you can find even more of my ocs (brief descriptions + reference images) over on my art fight page! (you have to be logged in to view!)

[[MORE]]

DnD Characters:

note: for some of these, i have to omit large portions of info as i am either actively playing them, or saving them for a future campaign, and i dont want anyone im playing with to see and accidentally spoil themselves

Fennryn Autumntide—

They were separated from their parents as a baby, and instead raised by an older dwarven woman named Rhiannon Autumntide (AKA Anna). They lived in the forest on the mountain together. She taught them how to fend for themself, and a basic respect for nature and other living things. Their relationship was very teacher/student, but as the years went by they saw each other as family. Fenn solidified this by taking Anna’s last name when they were of age. Eventually, Anna passed away, and Fenn was left in the woods alone.

Fearful of dying alone without ever having experienced life off of the mountain, Fenn sets out to find an adventure. And they find one, alongside a younger tiefling man named Finn. Finn is an experienced pirate, but he is vulnerable. Finn and Fenn trust each other explicitly, and after some time, they fall in love.

Fenn is tall, muscular, and an older elf. They’re around middle aged.

Alistair—

Alistair is a mystery. They are a bizarre-looking half-elf, with a wicked grin, and glowing cyan eyes that lack pupils. They are seemingly fairly young, despite their hair beginning to grow white at the roots.

Alistair is extremely curious, and values sating that curiosity above most things. They spend much of their time exploring and researching. They also have a complete lack of respect for personal boundaries, and love to study and inspect whoever they can get their hands on. (They’re good with a pair of pliers, if you’re willing to let them pull a tooth. They’d be happy to show you their collection.)

Alistair also thrives on positive attention, especially from people who don’t give it easily. Perhaps that’s why they insist on hanging off of Frey as much as they do. Frey Matthias Wolfe is a rich bastard. He’s a man of study as well, but he’s a real mean bitch. And Alistair loves him.

Alistair’s patron... Is a whole other story. One that will remain secret, for now.

Jesse—

Jesse was spawned from the thought “I should make a mean nerd for everyone to bully!” And the execution, imo, was flawless. A 24 year old human man. Jesse is a bard, and he hates it. He has been traveling on his own for a while, and finished his bard college education a couple years ago. He’s pretty studious, and he’s determined to learn everything related to magic that he can.

Despite being a jackass, and kind of a stick in the mud, he does have some semblance of a sense of humor. He also likes to use his intelligence and skill to feel superior to the people around him as often as possible. He is visibly extremely disturbed by corpses.

Jesse is very vague about his past and his reasons for traveling alone.

Ford—

Ford is my newest character! He is a firbolg cowboy. Extremely tall (approaching 8’), with a powerful build. I can’t say much about him yet! He is seemingly very friendly and happy to lend a helping hand whenever he can. He has a sister, named Clementine, who owns a small grocery store.

Cressida:

(note: cressida city + the world its a part of belongs to my boyfriend @ghost-gore ! all the characters that mine know belong to him as well. warning for gore on his blog.)

Ellis—

Ellis is a demon who works in limbo under a man named Crow. Ellis is technically speaking, pretty old, but he looks just as much the young man he was when he died. He keeps his long hair back in a ponytail, and can’t seem to ever wear his suit properly.

Ellis’ powers allow him to see and alter people’s memories. Limbo, as it works out, is a mess of memories. He is always very busy keeping things in order. He’s no stranger to making mistakes, but he has a knack for fixing them to make up for it. When he has a moment to himself, he likes to slip into the dreams of humans. He thinks they’re interesting! (But he keeps accidentally bringing them nightmares...oops. Don’t worry, he can fix it!)

Ellis is in love with his boss, and has been for over a century. He has a hard time keeping it subtle, but fortunately(??) Crow is oblivious. But a century is a long time... And things have gotten intimate between them more than once.

He is also good friends with a much older demon, named Cordia. They like to meet up for drinks, and bond over funny cat pictures.

Rosier—

Rosier is an old, powerful demon. He was once a high-ranking officer in “Hell”’s military. He was charming, and an excellent strategist. (Having a powerful beast form also helps.)

However, something triggered him severely. In a frenzied panic, he shifted into his beast form and flew off.

As a beast, he has large red eyes, long antennae, sharp claws, and huge black wings. Years passed as he isolated himself, and legends spread of the Mothman. Rosier lost himself more and more, until he lost the ability to speak. He stopped seeing any people as the apocalypse happened all around him.

Later, living in the ruins outside of Cressida, he is found by a young hero named Ghost. Ghost is initially intimidated by Rosier, and treats him as an enemy. They fight a few times, before Ghost realizes that Rosier isn’t necessarily a foe— he’s just defending himself. Ghost then begins to treat Rosier almost as a pet.

After some time rehabilitating Rosier, Ghost brings him back to Orion HQ, where they work for Cordia. Cordia is one of very few demons old enough to recognize Rosier.

Eventually, Rosier is able to read, speak, and transform back into a more human shape. He still retains a few of his moth form’s traits, including fully red eyes, fur here and there, and limbs that fade to near-black at the tips.

Cyrus Darcy—

Cyrus is a rich bitch whore. He cares about three things ONLY: wine, sex, and himself. Money is power and he has more than enough of it. His parents passed away when he was a teenager, and they left him a fortune.

Cyrus always gets what he wants. If money can’t get it for him, he has another trick up his sleeve that can. Cyrus is a celestial, meaning a human born with supernatural powers. Cyrus has the power of suggestion, meaning that he can give anyone a short command that they are compelled to follow.

Cyrus has all the makings of a villain, but in actuality he is very neutral. He just wants to have a good time unbothered. He uses his powers mostly to get randos to leave him alone. (Randos like Arley and Kier, who are sent by Cordia to recruit Cyrus for Orion. It takes a while.)

Evelyn—

Evelyn (AKA Evie) was born in the Victorian Era, to a rich father. With money and good looks, she was often pursued by men wishing to court and marry her. She was disinterested in all of them. She preferred to spend her time reading and studying. Evelyn loved to learn, but she also loved a good romance or fantasy to sweep her off her feet.

Enter Cordia, who spent her Victorian days posing as a man. They had a passionate love affair, until Cordia made a sudden exit from Evelyn’s life.

Many years later, Evelyn awakens in the afterlife as an angel. When she and Cordia meet again, it is as equals and business partners.

She is now working as a librarian/an archivist. She also boxes, because she likes to feel strong.

Marcy—

Marcy is a thotty rave twink. They love music, they love neons, and they love to flirt. Marcy is very enthusiastic, and they are a little bit in love with basically everyone. They flirt constantly, and are not shy with physical affection. They like to do drugs and make out and they’re happy to do that with pretty much anyone who’s willing.

Marcy is also a celestial. Their powers allow them to control their personal gravity. They can jump really high, and come down hard, among other things! They mostly use it to help themself go fast. They used to be in roller derby! And they still love to skate.

(ps they have thighs for days and an ass that wont quit. thank u)

Other:

Bonnie Briary—

My newest oc! She belongs to a world where monsters are real, but hidden. Monsters aren’t super common, and they generally avoid integration with human society. (The setting is also a blend of modern + victorian fantasy. Think Lemony Snicket ambiguity.)

Bonnie is shy, sweet, and curious. She likes to study plants in particular. Her style of choice is cottagecore/fairycore blend. She has a garden that she loves very much.

Faust (belongs to tovomiel on ig), is a trash punk gargoyle monster, who for some reason has decided he likes Bonnie. He teases her relentlessly and loooooves to make her flustered. The catch is, he’s too shy to make a move beyond teasing and the occasional kiss. Bonnie, sweet as she is, is dying for him to stop leaving her hanging. Shenanigans ensue.

[nenestansunsthings]

Do you have any old OCs you haven’t used in a while?

... yes.

there are only really two that i think count since most of my characters, like blackbox and A. and english and the like are all just canon characters that i've twisted until they're unrecohnizable. their names are sol "phosphor" and matthew gallows. their backstory is very, very long and i WILL rant about it for paragraphs at a time so it's all goin under a cut thanks.

also please be careful because of, uh... child abuse, acts of violence, murder of parents, cannibalism, attempted fratricide, and just generally monstrous stuff that i really should not have been telling as a bedtime story. please don't read this if it sounds too violent. i'm a little scared of the things i came up with too.

[[MORE]]

so! sol's the first one! basics: they're a reality bender and they're genderfluid and adhd as fuck. they're made of stardust and sight and the shattered debris of a dead world and they're the child of life and death. they're in the psych department because i love the psych department with my whole heart. and they're absolutely terrifying when they're not trying to be nice.

they were also an asshole. they're getting better.

the absolute mess that was their life started pretty much the moment they were born. they were. they were the second oldest child in the thorne family. their oldest brother was named lepur thorne and he was pretty much their parents' views of perfect.

little baby sol started out trying to imitate lepur as much as they could. they were trying to be as close to him as possible and did their best to match his personality and actions. but it did not work. even when their younger siblings were created and the family started getting less focused on lepur they were still hated and thought of as a pale imitation of everything good. so around when they turned thirteen they went right in the other direction. and then they became an absolute nightmare.

the problem was that they were a reality bender. so things started getting literally nightmarish. they were, of course, around fourteen and also immortal, so they had little to no impulse control and no sense of consequences. thankfully for their immediate surroundings, their whole family was also terrifying and mostly immortal. so. the consequences at least weren't permanent.

sol's parents responded as all reasonable parents do. they launched the equivalent of a smear campaign against their child and made every single other child they created fear them.

sol quit after that. disowned themself and left at seventeen to make a better life for themself. only they'd lived with a violent and very murder-happy family for so long that they'd pretty solidly cemented arson, blackmail, psychological warfare, and homicide as very fun hobbies to indulge in.

they carved a bloody path across universes and made themself a thousand different titles and names. king. overlord. all-seeing. the bright sun. starburst and master and the demon of pride and every other thing they wanted to be. if they were going to be a nightmare, they were going to be one of their own making.

and this is where matthew comes in.

matthew was born william lavenza in a city no-one but sol remembers the name of after he'd destroyed the world it was on. his parents treated him like a slave and hated him with every inch of their being when he wasn't doing what they asked. even when still in preschool he knew this very, very well.

he met sol one day when he was seven. more specifically, he saw sol, physically six years old and wanting to live a life they'd never had as a child, order a spider to die for funsies and watched with great, great interest as it dropped dead.

he was hesitant to start talking to sol, but very quickly the both of them became friends. and it was the best thing both of them had ever experienced.

sol, however, had a very vindictive streak when it came to asshole parents. and they swiftly started to uncover matthew's as well. they made each other worse and worse and worse until one day, nine years old and very, very angry, matthew killed his parents where they stood.

and the blood sang to him.

not literally, of course. all blood can do is pool. but he felt the call of it like it had. he felt it as strongly as sol felt for the sun and the feel of drying someone to dust under their power. and he didn't want to hold back. so matthew, ah... got rid of the bodies.

he learned a taste for human flesh after that.

sol and matthew became terrifying. they left that universe and made it die together and travelled the multiverse to do it again and again and again. they lived a million lifetimes as monsters and nightmares and the terrors that thrived in the day and the night.

they stopped being alone partway through it, too. that didn't bode well for whatever world they found themselves in, but they had fun with it. they were joined by mike cinder and jeremy fen, a boy who'd become a flame demon and a water spirit barely passing as human. mike was tiny and constantly furious and loved harassing people until they snapped and he could hit back. jeremy was lazy and had a rivalry with matthew and treated mike like a little brother he could throw at people who annoyed him. they shared secrets and played games with one another and created the most reviled friendship group in the known universes: the chaos brigade.

(somewhere, in a universe with a number i can never remember, this group is filed scp-1799.)

they start getting complacent, though. comfortable, in their power and in their place and in their roles with each other. they start to forget there could be anything but this. they start to forget there could be anything less.

and then sol finds their younger brother, gabriel, and all bets are off.

sol goes on a sibling hunt. they're a little bored, really, of only having three people to be with day by day. they wouldn't give up matthew for the world, of course, but the other two? there's only so much that they can do. so sol finds some more people to add to their little brigade. gabriel, first, a nervous mess of a man who's got a heart both made of and desperate for gold. then his son dio. and coraline toragay and otome megumi. and then lepur.

... lepur thorne, while being fancy and rich and smiley and polite, is also a hedonistic prick who likes watching interpersonal drama. especially drama he's caused. and he absolutely hates sol, because sol's particular brand of drama is explosive and bright and violent, and by god is he going to destroy them.

he plays nice at first, of course. pretends to warm up to his sibling and get a place in the group. he even brings in a member of his own, one adam milton, an agent of the foundation sent to contain him who he seduced into switching sides. things are stable a little longer.

then he plants doubt.

it's already hard for mike and jeremy, since their quartet's suddenly been drastically expanded and they both just hate other people. coraline and otome drop out almost immediately when they realize lepur's starting shit. gabriel falls far too easily for lepur's tricks and gets distrustful on his own. and sol gets retaliative.

they start a fight.

it's on an empty world, thank god, but they and lepur just fucking go for it. try to tear out each other's eyes and hearts and magic and souls as painfully and destructively as possible. it's a rush of magic and snapped reality and gunfire and assault and it only ends when lepur pulls out one last resort.

see, the thorne family is only mostly immortal. mostly. there is only one way to kill them. and that is an invocation, kept hidden away and unfindable in death's own deepest dungeons. an invocation that lepur memorized.

so sol dies.

... almost.

lepur leaves a little early. and matthew finds them just in time.

and matthew is furious.

matthew, at this point, is powerful. and he's attached. and he's married to sol, too, for extra points to the rage meter. and even past that sol's the first friend he's ever had, the only person he wants to be with forever. he'd tear down worlds if it would help them.

that wouldn't help them, though, so he does the only thing he can do. he threatens to murder death with his own two hands if death doesn't fix this immediately.

death only agrees because he knows matthew would do it.

he doesn't fix it completely, though. because he'd much prefer sol dead, too. death is honestly just a terrible father here. so sol's left to fix the cracks in their magic and the psychological trauma on their own.

... they leave for another world. one they haven't burned and salted yet. matthew follows. they both let the multiverse believe that they're finally dead and try to make a life for themselves after everything they've destroyed.

and then o5-6 finds them. and they decide the foundation's a worthwhile place to start doing that.

[dcarevu]

Batman TAS: Dreams in Darkness

“Isn’t that why I’m here? Because I’m…disturbed?”

Episode: 28 Robin: Yes (Hallucination) Writers: Judith Reeves-Stevens and Garfield Reeves-Stevens Director: Frank Paur Animator: Studio Junio Airdate: November 3, 1992 Grade: A

Arkham Asylum sucks, doesn’t it. BTAS makes it pretty unclear whether criminals escape or get released most of the time (legally or illegally). But sometimes we are given an x-ray of the inner-workings, and it pushes away any hope that Gotham City has a way of cleaning up its reputation. The last time we had an episode featuring the Scarecrow, we found out that the Scarecrow was supposed to be contained, but a sketchy guard was hiding the fact that he actually was not in his cell. I’m not sure how long that charade could have been kept up, but for the Scarecrow, I doubt that mattered too much, right? Ironically, though, you would think the last thing an escaped patient would want to do would be to wear their infamous costume, stay in the same city, and cause a lot of recognizable trouble in an area as public as a college campus, but we are not exactly dealing with the sane here… This time, only a few episodes later, Scarecrow has somehow gotten out of captivity again. But instead of going all trick-or-treat at sports games, he opts to keep his activities hidden in the shadows below Arkham. There is an old George Carlin routine where he explains how theoretically, living next to a prison ought to be fairly safe. After all, an escaped prisoners are certainly not about to hang around, they’re going to get as far away as possible! Scarecrow may be crazy, but he also seems to be quite intelligent. He was a college professor as some evidence. He probably knows that one of the last places the police would look for him would be under the floor boards. And even here, he hides in the dark, giving orders from the void we so often see cloaking our characters on this show. On top of this, he speaks with a much more menacing voice than before, and at first I thought it was a different voice actor. But no, it is still Henry Polic II. Andrea Romano must have figured out how to actually make the master of fear the least bit intimidating, and it’s about time. Scarecrow for some reason took a while for them to figure out, with him being incredibly goofy in his first appearance, merely spooky in his second, and now incredibly sinister-seeming. Even his mask-design is ever-so-slightly different, although the difference in effect is negligible. What I appreciate more is the difference in his body and posture. Nothing to Fear portrayed him as moving in a very floppy, bouncy fashion, like a Scarecrow might in a little kid’s “Happy Halloween” cartoon special. His body now is angled quite nicely, and he almost stands the way a living corpse would. I’m glad Scarecrow went out on a high note, for the most part (as this is his last major appearance in Batman TAS). Don’t worry, that does not mean that this was his last major appearance in the DCAU!

When the episode starts, we do not know that the Scarecrow will be involved. We get a shot of some Arkham employees talking about a “new patient” who was experiencing some hallucinations. When the cell door is opened and the lights are turned on, we see that it is Batman of all people! When you are not even a minute in, and this is what the episode brings us, it’s like, “Wait. What the hell happened off screen before the show started exactly??” The show immediately plays with our expectations, setting up a mystery and leaving us unsure of whom to trust. We’ve been with Batman for 28 episodes now (plus a pilot), but we also know that he is perhaps not all mentally there, much like so many of his foes. Witnessing him bound in a straight jacket and being treated by doctors is hardly outside the realm of realistic possibilities! But we also know that something screwy is certainly going on, and the way the doctors talk, it’s harder to trust them then it is Batman.

Batman desperately attempts to explain what is going on to the doctors, and asks them if they contacted the people they were supposed to contact, but all he gets as a response is, “He needs more time. See that he’s not disturbed.” GAAAHHHHHH. Pet peeve! I hated as a kid when I would try to explain something, yet no one would take me seriously. It’s infuriating! The doctors act like they care and they are there to help, but ultimately, them listening to what Batman is saying is all an act! They are not hearing the supposedly sane words that they want to hear, so Batman’s garble is meaningless. That has got to be so frustrating, especially given the fact that Batman is trying to save the city from an underground threat!

After this scene, we get some narration done by Batman himself, and this subtly lets us know that, no, we didn’t miss anything, and that it will all be explained by the end of the episode. Batman narrating is also super badass. It would have been real easy to make it cheesy, but Kevin Conroy knows how to deliver. The narration also assures us that Batman is not the crazy one, because his words sound confident (despite showing deep distress) and they make sense. He isn’t talking like a crazy person would talk. We are about to do something that those doctors were not willing to do, and that is hear him out. The narration leads us to a flashback scene (with an awesome music score) where Batman attempts to stop some thugs from messing with the Health Spring Spa’s drinking-water supply, but he ends up being exposed to this red gas that the thugs were going to pump into the pipes. A voice on the thugs’ communication unit also mentions that Batman is “right on schedule”, so we know that this gas was all-too deliberate. This hear helps us piece together the puzzle of why Batman could be locked away. It obviously has to do with the chemicals that he inhaled, but what are the details? And who is behind it? It becomes more obvious as Batman looks up at his screen during a flashback and sees the reflection of the Joker walking toward him. Turning around, he realizes that it is actually Alfred who was approaching. Obviously concerned, he sneaks into a doctor’s office and allows Dr Wu to examine his blood. Apparently the hallucinations are set to get much, much worse, putting him in a state of psychosis. This is where he understand Batman’s intensity earlier in the episode when talking to the Arkham employees. Not only does he need to stop Gotham’s entire water supply from being poisoned by this gas, but he has limited time before he himself goes completely off the deep end. And that brings us to perhaps the greatest thing about this episode.

In Nothing to Fear, we got some fear-hallucinations, triggered by Scarecrow’s toxin. And they were, well, nothing to fear, honestly. We got the image of Bruce’s father’s floating head, telling him that he disgraced the family name for a couple of seconds. It served the plot of the episode, but the weight of it wasn’t exactly felt. We got another one where Bruce’s father turned into a skeleton-like figure, but again, it didn’t do a lot for me. The hallucinations seen in Fear of Victory were a lot better, but they still weren’t the best of the best. Dreams in Darkness, though, this is the Pink Elephants episode. It’s the peyote-in-the-desert episode. It’s the Squidward in Clarinetland episode. The hallucinations that Batman experiences are incredibly intense for a show appropriate for children, the most intense one being the giant pistol that goes off, representing the murder of Bruce’s parents. This is accompanied by bloodcurdling scream from Batman that gives goosebumps. The sequence is incredible well-done, but there are several more that we get to experience. If you are into bizarro sequences in animation, this is the episode where BTAS did a bunch of them, and I would say it is worth checking out just for that. But add in some other great things like a good mystery, the Scarecrow at his best, some awesome atmosphere, etc, and it is extremely worth checking out.

The episode even managed to fool me at one point, despite having seen it before. There is a point where the doctors inject something into Batman to sedate him. I was thinking we were gonna figure out that the stuff being injected was actually more fear-toxin, and that they were working for the Scarecrow. But no, as far as I can tell, they were legitimate doctors, even if their competence wasn’t that high. Hell, they question why Batman would think that Scarecrow might have escaped, when just four episodes ago that very thing happened. Jeez, guys. Even if they were new doctors to the place, you’d think they’d be informed that Scarecrow is a slippery one. How can anyone have confidence that Arkham Asylum is a safe place for criminals to go?

The episode of course ends with Batman facing his fears and defeating Scarecrow. Scarecrow is no match for Batman in a physical fight, and it probably brings him back to the glory days of high school where jocks beat the shit out of the nerds (that’s a joke, I was a huge nerd/geek in high school who stood no fighting chance against anyone). I loved how every time Batman would suffer a hallucination or face a new, scary challenge, he would simply keep on trucking. He would get done going through something absolutely terrifying, then stand up and calmly move forward. It was a situation where Batman knew that he had no choice, and that if he didn’t do this, then it wouldn’t matter anyway. Gotham would be up the creek without a paddle. At least until the military got involved. He even put off his own treatment (which would put him out of commission for a couple days) until after the Scarecrow problem was solved.

Check it out if you haven’t! Of course, my words can only do the show so much justice, so take a look at this episode’s screenshots! Is this an excuse to stop writing? Maybe… I’m just tired of being behind on these blogs… I’m gonna try to bust out a few of them tomorrow. It’ll put a lot less stress on me…

Had to use the Blu Ray footage this episode. But it all looks pretty nice, so enjoy some high def!

A twist beginning can be just as powerful as a twist ending. We also don’t often see Batman in such a powerless situation. Like Bugs Bunny (but with a completely different approach), he always exudes a sense of control.

How do animators get this blur effect? When the camera shifts focus?

The lighting from the window is angled gorgeously. It’s also a shot that makes you wonder how the hell Batman is ever going to escape (Char gave me this insight).

It’s not every family cartoon where you see someone about to be drilled through the chest.

As the Joker suddenly appears as a reflection on the screen, we don’t get an dramatic music or anything. So when we see that it’s actually Alfred, it makes us feel almost as silly as Batman for worrying. 

A pretty good shot of Batman’s face, but the rest of his body seems off to me. Also, this is our first time seeing Batman in-costume getting help from a professional like a doctor. 

Well animated crash sequence, ending in a shot of the asylum as two doctors sprint out, heading for the crash sight. Great transition.

So as Batman talks to the doctors, I noticed that one of them refers to the Joker as Jack Napier. Is that his actual name in this show? Or is it merely an alias (and one of many?). No spoilers, I wanna find out through the episodes and comics!

Here is what the Scarecrow is looking like this time. Compare this to his last appearance:

His design is certainly shifting toward the more angular, streamlined look of future DCAU shows.

Is that sweat or a tear, Batman????

One of the hallucination-sequences that was so powerfully sad and ctreative (Char). Instead of simply leaving the gunshot to our ears, we see the tunnel they enter morph into a giant gun, and blood runs out of it. I don’t want to quite call this personification, but it is a very warped interpretation of what happened last night and it gives us somethin far more interesting than anything offered in Nothing to Fear where it was much more straight forward.

Scarecrow’s clock is very cute. 

I like how they both look at each other after missing Batman with a traguilizer dart. Like, “Good going, Frank.”

Batman was trapped in a mental hospital where most of his arch nemeses are also being held. That has to keep a guy on edge. No wonder he’s having these particular visions. Robin and Alfred’s voice actors do a great job here sounding like evil versions of their normal selves. It’s all quite unsettling.

Look how great he looks!!!

This batarang moment was dope. Look at those two stills. This is Studio Junio, the same ones who animated The Underdwellers. 

That’s all for this episode! 

This show has the ability to make so many viewers feel young again. It’s no demetrite, but it gets the job done... Join us next time!

Char’s grade: A Next time: Eternal Youth

Full episode list here!

[juniemunie]

MY SKULLGIRLS OC!!

((This OC is heavily lore inspired around the Living Weapons are Lobotomized Parasites theory, it was really interesting so I tried to make my own ways on how that would go around if it was canon in the Skullgirls Universe!))

Personal Info

Name

Bethany "Bluesette" Wiley

Nicknames

Bluesette (her pseudonym/tag as a graffiti artist)

Beth (Umbrella/Tallow)

Age

15

Birthday

May 12

Blood Type

AB

Height

5'6"

Weight

118 lbs.

Measurements

20A-19-25

Likes

Blues, Jazz, Information about Parasites and Hosts, doodling in class, painting, doing tasks on her own, sugar-free bubblegum, the smell of spray paint, any big surface space to draw on, Tallow, Roller skating, Smack talk, Living Weapons, Aunt Cerise

Dislikes

Empty paint buckets and spray cans, Authority figures, School, being lied to, anything slow moving, prejudice against Parasites and Hosts, being told what to do, proper etiquette, Aunt Cerise

Backstory/Biography:

A well-known graffiti artist in New Meridian, Bluesette skates around the streets, painting and spraying walls, windows, whatever surface she can get her hands on- with crude yet colorful artwork, which frequently gets her in trouble with the cops and the owners of the property she's defacing. She manages to escape those tricky situations with the help of her Living Weapon, she named Tallow.

When she's not defacing every single surface she sees, she's your average schoolgirl delinquent, causing mayhem in school as much as she does in the streets. However having Cerise Flannery, a well-known master weapon smith and patron to the Renoir Family- as her legal guardian often forces her to be cooped up at home or placed in many formal situations that she absolutely hates.

She soon finds that Tallow has the unique ability to think and speak, albeit is forgetful and often naive. When Tallow suddenly gains glimpses of memories of what he believes is his past life, they both try to find a way to regain them, and accidentally uncover a disgusting secret about the creation of Living Weapons...And how her Aunt Cerise is connected to it.

Goals

Wants to learn more about Parasites and Hosts and the Skullheart's relation to them, finding a way to regain Tallow's memories possibly through the Skullheart.

__________________

Relationships/Friends:

Tallow

Her partner in crime and the closest to a friend she's got. Ever since the two properly met they've been close and thick as thieves, Tallow often giving her many ideas in art tips, tricks and techniques that she has never thought before, making her respect the Living Weapon and unconsciously hold him in a higher tier and treats him more "human" than the rest of the Living Weapons who can't speak. She still patronizes him often due to his naivetés.

(of course, this changes when she finds out he's a parasite and every other living weapon is)

Aunt Cerise Flannery

Her Aunt, and legal guardian, she has been with her ever since she was a child. Her strict, uptight nature contrasts Bethany's carefree nature, which causes them to butt heads and argue more often. She however holds a begrudging sort of respect to her Aunt as she was always amazed at her skills to create beautiful Living Weapons and secretly wants to do the same, just not her way. Bethany has kept her street artist identity well hidden from her Aunt, but it also seems Aunt Cerise is hiding something from her as well.

Umbrella

Princess of the Canopy Kingdom and awesome hang out buddy, these two met during one of Aunt Cerise's visits to the castle, and both bonded to not being able to join the action and staying cooped up in their respective houses. They always eagerly wait for the other to show up when they are forced to join in meetings, Umbrella dragging Bethany all around the castle to join in on her making mayhem. Bethany sometimes brings Umbrella with her to the city when she's in her street artist identity to buy her ice cream and hang out.

(Maybe she could like, join in on Umbrella's storymode fighting the Skullgirl idk just speculation.)

__________________

Combat Info

Tallow and Bluesette

Bluesette is very quick in her movements thanks to her roller skates and could probably do attacks and combos on ground while still able to move. She can use paint brushes, paintguns, spray cans to stun or hit the enemy. (Weapons probably hidden inside Tallow?)

For Tallow, other than the ability to speak and think, he is a goopy Living Weapon with a weird liquidy substance that he can manipulate to have different abilities at will, he can make himself expand into a large size or smaller. He can also make himself and the splashes he leaves behind to either be slippery or sticky, to surprise or immobilize opponents.

Aaaand that's basically all I currently have on them that are display worthy atm! The comic is still "ongoing", and I may add quotes during battle, doodles, what her attacks look like etc soon!

[tiramisiyu]

Tears of Themis: Main Story 4-3 Translation

Translated parts:

Chapter 4 – Heart’s Fire: 4-1 / 4-3 / 4-5 / 4-6 / 4-8 / 4-9 / 4-11 / 4-12 / 4-13 / 4-15 / 4-17 / 4-18

Translation Masterlist: here

Video: https://www.bilibili.com/video/BV1s5411b7Yu?p=2

Zuo Ran’s Office

Cui Yuan, the suspect of Huang Haochu’s murder, is right now in custody at the police station. Lu Jinghe had reserved to meet him at 9:00 AM tomorrow.

I returned to the law firm, planning to check the archives for this case’s file. Plus, I also had to discuss adjusting my work hours with Zuo Ran.

I told Zuo Ran about the situation regarding how I was going to meet with Lu Jinghe. After listening, Zuo Ran had a hard-to-describe expression…

Zuo Ran: …

MC: Lawyer Zuo, does this case… have problems?

Zuo Ran: Lu Jinghe’s reasoning was that having the Lu family’s lawyers appear would cause trouble?

MC: That’s right.

MC: He actually did seem to be very embarrassed. On the surface, the lives of wealthy people seem to have no bounds, but the difficulties and sadnesses they face are hard to be experienced by outsiders.

Zuo Ran: …

Zuo Ran looked like he wanted to say something, but in the end, he just sighed.

MC: …?

Zuo Ran: You can try taking over for this case. Huang Haochu’s murder case is one of the cases in X-Note.

Zuo Ran: Its number is NXX-1036. Its priority ranking is not that high. It’s considered a mental disorder case.

MC: Mental disorder?! Does this refer to… Huang Haochu’s depression?

Zuo Ran: That’s right. Because of the pressure of public opinion, Huang Haochu suffered from depression.

Zuo Ran: After receiving treatment, though it can’t be said that he got better, but he also shouldn’t have had a tendency to want to commit suicide. 

Zuo Ran: But the police maintain that Cui Yuan assisted Huang Haochu in his suicide.  In this explanation, there should be something hidden.  

As Zuo Ran said this, he opened the file for Case 1036 and projected it on the workbench. 

MC: The murder weapon of Huang Haochu’s murder is Cui Yuan’s tie. 

MC: Plus, based on the monitor at his house’s main door, the only one who came in and out was also only Cui Yuan.

MC: When Huang Haochu was discovered, the sofa cushion beside his hand was scratched until it was worn out. This shows that it was caused by suffocation. 

MC: The police inferred from this that Huang Haochu was willing to die, so they arrived at the conclusion that Cui Yuan assisted in Huang Haochu’s suicide. 

Zuo Ran: This is just one of the bases. The forensic report has even more detailed evidence. 

Zuo Ran: Additionally, police found cyanide in Huang Haochu’s book table drawer. It confirms that Huang Haochu did consider suicide. 

MC: Cyanide?

MC: Such a highly poisonous drug can’t be obtained by normal methods. 

I continued to flip through the NXX-1036 records. In the timeline for Huang Haochu’s depression, I noticed a new name - Yuan Ting. 

MC: This Yuan Ting was… Huang Haochu’s care worker?

Zuo Ran: In treatment of depression, a family member or friend is needed to accompany them.  But Huang Haochu did not marry - he was always single. 

Zuo Ran: So after his sickness, Cui Yuan found a professional care worker for him to accompany him by having conversations and relieving boredom.

MC: Cui Yuan so meticulously cared for Huang Haochu’s life. He definitely would not do as the media stated as truth (?) and let Huang Haochu be the scapegoat.

MC: The way he treated Huang Haochu is also full of contradictions.

Zuo Ran: Huang Haochu had the identity of being a partner of the auction house.  No matter if it’s him or Cui Yuan, neither could confess to swapping the auctioned items. 

Zuo Ran: Otherwise, the loss caused to Leinster would be unbearable.

Zuo Ran: But at that time, Huang Haochu was already being watched by the media.  Having all fingers pointed to one person is at least better than both people being condemned to eternal damnation. 

MC: Cui Yuan just wanted to save whatever was possible, but who would’ve thought that in the end, it would even result in one’s death…

MC: Right, this Yuan Ting - where did he go when the crime happened?

Zuo Ran: Taking a day off. He went on vacation to the neighbouring province. 

Zuo Ran: Forensics concluded, Huang Haochu’s murder was at last year, November 12th, between 6PM to 12AM. 

Zuo Ran: Huang Haochu’s death was discovered on November 13th early morning, around 7AM.

Zuo Ran: The worker who has long been dispatched to deliver fresh produce deliveries for the Huang house knew that Huang Haochu had depression.

Zuo Ran: He noticed no one was at home, and he couldn’t get through to Huang Haochu’s phone, so he called police out of vigilance.

Zuo Ran:  Yuan Ting returned in advance after receiving the police’s contact.

X-Note’s records were consistent with the archives in the police’s big data centre. 

Thus, under this situation where no new evidence came out, Cui Yuan really could not avoid suspicion. The murder weapon, the murder timing, all of it pointed to him. 

As for the motive of committing the crime, whether it was from a quarrel as the media said, or as the police concluded - assisted suicide, either explanation made sense. 

Lu Jinghe wanting to overturn the police’s conclusion in such a short time, is way too hard…

MC: Right, Lu Jinghe, he…

Could he be a member of the NXX investigation group?

I wanted to ask Zuo Ran, but after seeing his probing eyes, I hesitated.

I haven’t yet agreed to be added by Zuo Ran into the investigation group yet. Asking this kind of thing… probably wasn’t quite right?

Zuo Ran: You wanted to ask, is Lu Jinghe a member of the investigation team?

At the end, I still got seen through by Zuo Ran. I embarrassedly nodded.

MC: I know this isn’t something I should ask. Lawyer Zuo, you don’t have to tell me. 

Zuo Ran: Why guess at Lu Jinghe's identity? Just because he’s the executive CEO of Pax?

MC: At the beginning I thought - Pax funding the establishment of NXX was something that Lu Jinghe could not have been unaware of. 

MC: But when he reached out about this case 1036, if Lu Jinghe was a member of the investigation team, then his behaviour would make even more sense.

MC: He was eager to investigate, which was likely due to being afraid that clues would be lost after a sentence was announced for the case. 

MC: Not using the power of the Lu family was because NXX’s investigations are a secret. 

Zuo Ran: Just now, I was even worried that your occasional simpleness would make it easy for you to suffer losses.  Now I see that it wasn’t necessary.

MC: Eh? Lawyer Zuo, earlier you didn’t look so good - was it because you were worried about me? 

Zuo Ran very unnaturally turned away his line of sight…

Zuo Ran:...

MC: (Lawyer Zuo really is a very considerate senior, he’s just not very good at showing it.)

MC: Don’t worry. Basically because I haven’t yet been added into NXX, Lu Jinghe hasn’t said clearly that we’re investigating 1036. He wasn’t hiding it on purpose. 

MC: Besides, his sad expression… no matter how you look at it, it doesn’t look like he’s acting. 

Though I had a certain answer in my heart, Lu Jinghe’s identity still made me feel that it wasn’t quite true. 

He could be a relaxed artist, an unrestrainable rich family’s young master - not a single bit was like that of a member of a secret investigation group.

MC: Lawyer Zuo, have some confidence in me. If i were really stupid, always getting tricked and suffering losses, how could I have been your partner?

Zuo Ran: Sheesh, you…

Zuo Ran: Have you finished considering that thing? Will or won’t you join NXX?

MC: If I can prove that X03A wasn’t just one case with Gong Cheng, but it was instead it was with Heirson, as well as more businesses related to the production of illegal drugs.

MC: Even if it’s dangerous, I hope that Lawyer Zuo can allow me to enter NXX.

MC: I want to help more people like Qiao Qiao. I want to prevent Qiao Qiao’s tragedy from repeating. 

Zuo Ran: Very good. I didn’t find the wrong person.

Zuo Ran: X03A has already been sent to Pax for a chemical assay. We’ll be able to get a detailed report after a bit of time. 

Zuo Ran: Before that happens, if you want to look through more information, I can give you authorization to access internal data for NXX.

Zuo Ran: Find a time for me to bring you to the base, to input your identification info. 

MC: That’s great.

MC: Right, Lawyer Zuo, does Stellis City really have so many case files? The case numbers have already reached four digits. 

I’d wanted to ask this question ever since I saw the identification number 1036. 

Stellis City’s law and order system was one of the best in the country. Not even considering murder cases, just public security cases were significantly lower in number compared to other cities.

Zuo Ran: Not necessarily. I mostly organize missing persons cases; their identification numbers are all three digits. 

Zuo Ran: Cases relating to mental disorders are for another person to organize. He uses four digits for their identification numbers. 

MC: So it’s like this...that’s good. 

MC: Though I’m a lawyer, I still hope that this world will have no strife in it.

MC: Though I would be unemployed, this would be a happy thing.

Zuo Ran: Sheesh, you - your head is full of naive thoughts.

MC: Though it can’t be done, can’t I still think about it - Lawyer Zuo, you’re too strict.

Zuo Ran: Of course you can think about it. Plus… I quite like this way of thinking that you have.

Zuo Ran: “The direction that we lawyers drive towards every day, is towards the day where we will one day be unemployed.”

Zuo Ran: He also said these kinds of words before…

Zuo Ran’s faintly smiling expression showed significant feelings and memories. 

A name suddenly flashed in my mind - Nie Qiu. 

Could Professor Nie, Zuo Ran’s teacher, be the “he” that Zuo Ran just mentioned?

[allisondraste]

Convalescence (1/5)

Chapter 1: Worst Person in the World

Summary: It has been four months since the Blight ended, and four months since Alistair and Lucia have seen each other. Relationships are hard, especially when there is no certainty that one still exists. (Sequel to "Let Me Go") 

Pairings: Alistair x F!Amell, Alistair x F!Non-Warden Cousland, Nathaniel Howe x F!Non-Warden Cousland

[AO3 LINK]

The darkspawn had all but vanished from the Fereldan countryside, their retreat harkened by the defeat of the archdemon months earlier.  Only straggler bands remained, cropping up on the roads from time to time, terrifying travelers. Even in smaller groups than the massive horde that had swarmed to the surface during the Blight, they were ruthless and deadly.  That did not even account for the pale eyes, skin that looked as if it were too loose, and the breath that would put a mabari to shame. Alistair observed the latter as he finished off the last of group of genlocks that had been plaguing one of the main roads leading into Denerim.  It laughed maliciously, baring a mouthful of pointed teeth, even as he sank his blade deep into its chest. Disgusting .

It wasn’t the most enjoyable job, but it was something to keep his hands - and more importantly, his mind - busy.  For a time, he had been able to focus on cleaning up the mess that had been Denerim in the aftermath of the battle.  However, the city had more or less returned to normal, and he was left with little to do except think about all the ways in which his life was worse since the Blight had ended.  Sure, he wasn’t out in the fray of things, risking his life on a daily basis, but without the distraction he felt restless and empty. Peace wasn’t as great as everyone made it out to be.

As he returned to Denerim, the comforting bustle of midday surrounded him.  There was a sense of contentment and comfort that he had only noticed in the past few weeks.  It seemed that peace was only disappointing to him, as the people of Denerim thrived in the absence of battle and hardship. Of course they did.  Only crazy people like him longed for conflict. It was all he knew, after all. Alistair laughed bitterly and headed toward the palace district.

Queen Anora had so graciously allowed him to stay in the palace, even after he had made a fool of himself demanding that her father be executed.  Of course, that had not happened, and the former Teyrn was spending his days in the dungeons now. It was a fair compromise, and one that Alistair was grateful had happened after the fact.  Killing Loghain wouldn’t have brought back Duncan or the other wardens, no matter how much he blamed the man for their deaths. Lucia had been right, as she usually was.

Lucia. His chest tightened and ached at the thought of her.  He longed for the day he could think about her without that happening, if it were even possible. If it weren’t, well… then, he would just have to stop thinking about her.  Simple. Right?

Prepared to descend into the dark places where he kept thoughts of their relationship, such as it was, Alistair reached the palace.  As he pushed through the heavy wooden doors, he was torn from his thoughts by a voice, shouting from across the large, open hall. He looked up to see a beautiful woman with long, red-blonde hair, braided loosely over her shoulder waving and walking in his direction.   Elissa Cousland .

“Hey! You’re back,” she remarked cheerfully, her silvery voice echoing in his ears, “How fare the darkspawn?”

“Oh, you know, same old, same old.  They were very upset that you never write them anymore.” He laughed and raised his eyebrows, a playful gesture.

“Well, we didn’t exactly leave things on good terms, did we? What with the Blight and all.”  She crossed her arms and shifted her weight from one hip to the other, not that he was paying attention to her hips, or anything like that.

“That’s what I tried to tell them, but they weren’t having it, so...I had to kill them,” he answered with a shrug, watching her large, brown eyes search his face for something, though he didn’t know what she hoped to find.  It certainly wouldn’t be the sadness he had hidden away behind the jokes. That was an expertise of his, honed over twenty-one years of pretending he wasn’t falling apart on the inside. Still, he mentally wished her luck.

“Seriously, though, did it go smoothly,” she asked, when she was reasonably satisfied that he wasn’t hiding a frown somewhere. “Are you all right?” Her voice was heavy with concern, and she began to scan his body for injuries.  It was more flattering than it was uncomfortable, though he still wished she would stop.

“Pfft, a few darkspawn hurt me?” He tilted his head upward and crossed his arms in feigned offense. “Never.”

“Oh really?” A sharp pain burned in his forearm as she tugged at it. “Then what is this?”  He looked down to see an large gash across his arm. There was only a trickle of blood, however, it seemed that the genlock had used a blade coated with poison, as there were green burns around the wound’s edges.  Fabric clung to the wound, effectively stopping most of the bleeding. Damn, that was going to hurt later. How had he not noticed that one?

“Oh that?  Just a scratch,” he laughed it off, pretending it didn’t bother him that he hadn’t even been able to keep his thoughts straight long enough to look down at his own arm.   Duncan would have scolded him. Lucia would have scolded him.  Part of him hoped that Elissa would scold him too.

“You’ll think ‘just a scratch’ when that poison rots half your arm off,” she lectured, almost as if on cue.  “We need to get you to the nurse.”

“If you insist,” he answered, as she all but dragged him down the hall toward the castle’s infirmary.  She was stronger than he would have guessed.

Elissa, or “Liss” as she insisted he call her, had been staying in the palace for nearly as long as he had.  As the youngest of the Cousland children, she had taken it upon herself to work in Denerim to repair the political damage dealt by Howe and Loghain, while her brother served as Teyrn of Highever.  She was warm, witty, and smarter than him - everything he would have expected a Fereldan noblewoman to be without the sharp edges and annoying formality. She and Alistair had developed a friendship in the few months that she had been in the city.  She listened to him and made him laugh at a time when he strongly considered throwing himself into the nearest lake on a daily basis. Her company was comforting, and at moments she made him forget that his world had fallen apart.

Cringing as pieces of the shirt that had served as an unwanted bandage were cut and peeled away, Alistair hissed a handful of curses that apparently offended the Andrastian nurse, causing her to work more roughly.  Liss stood beside him, her hand resting casually on his shoulder, an attempt to comfort him that would have worked better if she were not also stifling laughter that was undoubtedly in response to the swearing. He didn’t even use the worst one’s he knew.  Those were for special occasions.

“So Liss, you’re from Highever,” he spoke while the nurse continued to work, crushing the ingredients of an antidote into one of those bowls apothecaries used.  The name escaped him at the moment, but he remembered watching Lucia use one. He would ask her questions about the ingredients, and she would explain. She always hated when he said it,  but she would have been a wonderful mentor had she stayed at the Circle. He shook his head, remembering he had started a conversation and that he needed to listen.

“What gave it away: The last name or the fact that my brother is the Teyrn?”

“You know what I mean.” A grunt escaped him when the dark green antidote touched his open wound.

“Yes, I happen to be quite familiar with Highever,” she stated proudly, “What of it?”

“I’ve just been meaning to go for a while now,” Alistair explained, relief washing over him when the nurse began to bandage the wound.  It was almost over. “My friend Duncan was from there. He died in the battle at Ostagar, and I want to make a trip to honor him.

“I remember Duncan.  He visited from time to time looking for recruits,” Liss explained, a wistful sound to her voice, “I begged to leave with him the last time he came by, but Papa wouldn’t have it.”

“Probably for the best.” He offered her an apologetic smile before looking down at his feet.

“Probably so.”

There was a long and heavy pause in the conversation, made only slightly less uncomfortable by the sound of the nurse’s humming.  She tied the bandage so tightly that Alistair’s heartbeat throbbed underneath it.

“There you go, young man,” the nurse announced suddenly, and Alistair jumped slightly, “That should do the trick.  Try not to move it around too much until the antidote dries.”

He nodded and stood, thanking her for her time, to which she replied with a good-natured smile before walking away to tend to a guard who entered with a broken arm.   Liss moved to examine the wrappings as if she did not trust the nurse’s work, but she did not appear to find fault with them.

“You’ll also want to keep it clean,” she asserted, her gaze soft under serious eyebrows, “You wouldn’t want it to get infected.”

“I know how to tend a wound, thank you very much ,” he snapped, uncomfortable with her concern for him.  Although, he figured she would assume he was annoyed.

“I just-,” she began, but threw her hands up in frustration, “Nevermind.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, making sure to smile and meet her gaze to show he was sincere, “ I know you’re just worried about me… I appreciate it. Really.”  He bent over to pick up his glove and leather bracer the nurse had removed as she treated him. He examined the corroded cut in the leather and sighed.  They were his favorite pair, but he would hate to see what his arm would have looked like had he not worn them.

Alistair and Liss exited the infirmary and walked down the hallway in less-than-comfortable silence.  He had learned from experience that sometimes silence was better than trying to force words, especially when those words made him look like and idiot, an arse, or both.  

Liss surprised him by speaking first.  That never happened to him.

“You know, I could got to Highever with you… if you wanted.” She looked down at the ground, a self-conscious gesture he had yet to see from the typically confident woman, “I haven’t seen Fergus in a while.  I’d like to meet that new woman of his and see if she’s up to my exceptionally high standards.”

He froze, flashes of a conversation with Lucia just days after Ostagar.  She barely knew him at the time, but offered to make the trip to Highever with him anyway.  Duncan had been important to her, too. It felt wrong to go without her, let alone to take someone else instead.  Then again, Lucia wasn’t there, was she? She had been gone for almost four months, and she hadn’t even written. Not once.  He didn’t know if she was safe or even alive, at this point. Considering the way she left, he didn’t even know if she still cared about him.   It wasn’t her fault that she had literal demons to deal with, but that didn’t ease the pain. It was a strange mix of heartache and anger that made his chest collapse in on itself.   He loved her more than he ever thought it was possible to love another person, but he wasn’t sure that he could continue to hold out hope that she would come back to him. It would hurt so much less if he could move on.

“You okay, Ali?”  Liss’ soft voice broke though his daze. He blinked his eyes a few times, focusing his vision, and hummed in response.  “You’ve been staring off into the distance and scowling for a while now. Far past the minute I usually allow you when I ask you a question.”

“Very funny,” he quipped and pushed her away playfully in an attempt to recover the shield of humor he liked to hide behind, only to decide that deflection was a lost cause at this point, ”But, uh, yes.  I’m fine. I was just...well, I was -.” He broke off, not sure what to say next.

“What is it?” Her eyebrows pressed together in concern and she touched his shoulders gently.  “Is something wrong?”

“Have I told you about Lucia?”  He laughed nervously and tried to look anywhere but her eyes. “I don’t think I have.”  He knew he hadn’t. Not talking about her was an active decision on his part.

“Lucia, the Hero of Ferelden? That Lucia?” Liss seemed offended that he assumed she did not know who the Hero of Ferelden was, but that wasn’t what he meant.

“Yes, uh, that would be be the one.”  He paused, gathering his thoughts. “She and I, well, we had planned to go to Highever together a long time ago, but obviously she’s not here now.”

“Where is she?”

“ Amaranthine .”

“Ah.” The bitterness must have stuck to his words because Liss’ tone changed. “I don’t have to go if it upsets you.  I just thought I would offer.”

“I- no.  You should come,” he answered, words leaving his lips before he had time to think about them.  Still, he didn’t want to go alone, and he refused to let guilt dictate his decision.

“I don’t want to spoil your trip,” Liss answered in a mix of concern and excitement.

“You?  Spoil something? Never,” he insisted, “Please come.  I could use the company.”

“Are you absolutely sure?”  Her caution was probably warranted considering his erratic behavior.

“Of course,” he assured her, “Want to leave first thing in the morning?”

“Well,” she began, tapping a finger to her chin in thought, “That doesn’t leave me much time for my beauty sleep.”  A mischievous grin spread across her face, her eyes glittering with amusement.

“Well, you don’t need it anyway.”   Sweet maker , what was wrong with him?  He scolded himself for his indiscreet tongue.  Perhaps he would have to cut it out, devote himself to Astyth the Grey.  That would be a first for the Silent Sisters. He pinched the bridge of his nose and looked up at Liss.  Her eyes were wider than usual and she blushed.

“I, uh, guess I will… see you in the morning, then.”  

“Yeah, I guess so.” He smiled politely, and then turned to head to his room, cursing himself with each step.  He looked back over his shoulder to see Liss still standing there, watching him walk away. She was lovely, and he was the worst person in the world.

[bookramblings]

The City of Brass

Author: S.A. Chakraborty

Published by: Harper Collins

Pages: 534

Format: Paperback

My Rating ★★★★★

In the markets of eighteenth century Cairo, thieves, tricksters, con artists and outcasts eke out a living swindling rich nobles and foreign invaders alike.

But alongside this new world, the old stories linger. Tales of djinn and spirits, of cities hidden among the swirling sands of the desert – full of enchantment, desire and riches – where magic pours down every street, hanging in the air like dust.

Many wish their lives could be filled with wonder, but not Nahri. She knows the trades she uses to get by are just tricks and sleights of hand: there’s nothing magical about her. She only wishes to one day leave Cairo, but as the saying goes…

Be careful what you wish for.

My thoughts:

The City of Brass is unlike any fantasy novel I’ve read before, and I loved it. This debut novel is easily one of the best books I’ve read recently, and I’m so glad I decided to give it a go.It is the first book in a Muslim fantasy series, and the action switches back and forth between two different points of view.

One point of view is a girl in her early twenties, who remembers nothing of her childhood, and is living near Cairo, Egypt. Her name is Nahri and she is a street healer by day, and a con-woman and thief by night. She is a wonderful and highly intelligent character with a great backstory and lots of personality to make her even more interesting as the plot develops. Nahri has a natural skill for healing people, and can magically see what the problem is. These skills enable her to stay alive and earn money as she gets hired to cleanse and heal people throughout Cairo.

The real story truly begins at one of these ceremonies where Nahri is helping to heal someone, and as she does so she really is putting on a good show to get paid at the end of the night. This night, however, things get far more complicated, and she accidentally unlocks some magic beyond her control.

After a turn of events, Nahri ends up in a cemetery where she begins to pray and accidentally summons a daeva warrior from another world.  The warrior, Dara, soon realizes that Nahri isn’t entirely human, and that trouble will soon come to both of them. In order to keep them both safe, the daeva leads Nahri to a magical city that is hidden behind brass walls. As we begin to learn more about this city, we are introduced to the second point of view, which comes from a young Prince living in the city, named Ali. In Daevabad Ali’s brother, Muntadhir, is the promised king, and Ali lives in the palace with his family, training to become a more influential role alongside the other royals. Ali will never marry or have children, but will be groomed to serve and protect Muntadhir with his life. He is completely dedicated to God, and cares deeply for his family.

The city of Daevabad is home to all kinds of people. When Nahri decides to enter this world, she learns that true power is fierce and brutal. That magic cannot shield her from the dangerous web of court politics. That even the cleverest of schemes can have deadly consequences.

In this world, the citizens can use magic, including humans, even though there are various ways in which they are able to do so. Even though thisis undoubtedly a fantasy novel, it also ties in with our real world, and this makes humans a key part of this story.

I absolutely lived all the vibrancy and complexity within the walls of the City, and how with all these beings, different powers and abilities are explored. I loved the fantastical elements and the level of detail included by the author created a really vivid fascinating world to get lost in.

At the heart of the book is arguably a story about oppression, and what it means to believe that your blood is more pure than other people’s. This is demonstated again and again in how the mixed bloods in this world, shafits, are treated cruelly and without a second thought. They are killed for crimes they don’t commit, just to make the pure bloods feel safer. They lead extremely different lives to the pure bloods, and suffer on a daily basis. Their children are stolen and sold away, most are forced to work as slaves or pleasure slaves. This story can feel so very real at times and, in my opinion, these themes gave the book so much more depth than I was expecting. It really is very powerful.  

I felt the story was fantastic, the characters are wonderful, the prose is exceptional, and the messages and representation within are so important in achieving such an absorbing and unique read. This book is heartfelt and powerful. I can’t wait to get started on the second part of this fantasy trilogy! I found this book such an addictive and highly entertaining read, so of course I’m heading straight out to buy the sequel as soon as possible.

Overall reaction: