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snaileer · 2 days
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Ambassador Danny AU
Just a silly thing knocking around in my brain.
Batman halted in the door of the conference room, taking in the sight of a strange being lounging imperiously in his chair. His white hair seemed to defy gravity ever so gently and his green, glowing eyes—Jason’s eyes—stared back with none of the regard or fear so many people showed towards Batman. His tanned face was speckled with tiny stars that Batman had to actively resist becoming memorized by. The boy’s choice of covering was sheening armour that refracted the light through his chest-plate of black ice. The white sleet that sharpened his knuckles seemed perfectly capable of movement despite it encasing his hands in similar fashion to the chest-plate; glassy in it’s brutal edges and as hard as the sheets that form over the coldest of lakes. 
The watchtower had been invaded. Batman had questioned why the place was so cold when he’d arrived. Now he knew.
The only thing that kept Batman from immediately reacting might have—very much—had to do with how young he looked. A boy in the second half of his teens.
And the fact that several other Justice League members were at Batman’s back as he strolled further into the room, watching the boy warily.
The boy’s eyes were unconcerned as he watched the Justice League file in. Worryingly so. Who was he that he would be so unfazed, how powerful? Or was it faith he wouldn’t be harmed, taking advantage of the Justice League’s strong morals?
The teen had commandeered the chair with all the authority of a king and the confidence of one assured of their own position. He sprawled across it. The chairs were all identical of practical, unassuming make, but this boy made it look like his throne as he leaned heavily on one side and stretched one leg way on the other. A hand was extended to dangle off one chair-arm and he had a knee braced up, showing an armoured shin protecting his black, sturdy, cargo-like pants and iced boots that jagged treacherously upwards.
The boy smirked. “Took you long enough. I was getting bored.”
Batman resisted the urge to clamp his hands over his already protected ears from the unearthly static and screeching glaciers that came from the boy’s mouth. He noticed Superman flinch and his face grimace.
“Who are you?” Batman growled. This boy was obviously inhuman. He was also an unknown. Batman would be foolish to underestimate someone who had somehow infiltrated the watchtower without being seen or setting off any alerts. Who exuded too much confidence, as if the entire world was at his fingertips.
Attacking took the back-burner in favour of garnering information in such a concerning situation.
“You may address me as. . .” He contemplated a bit too much for Batman to believe whatever he would give them would be his true name. “Danny.”
“. . .Danny.” 
The name was so. . .normal.
“How did you get here?” Wonder Woman asked with hints of warning and aggression.
The boy smiled. He had fangs. Too many sharp teeth. He didn’t answer and was revelling in their ignorance.
“What are you doing here?” Superman asked. It said something about Danny’s energy that even superman was being cautious about approaching.
“Waiting for you.” He smirked.
“Why?” Batman pushed as much threat and intimidation into his stance and words as he could. He usually didn’t have to think about it. “What do you want?”
Danny chuckled and a shiver ran up Batman’s spine. Goosebumps formed even through the protective layers that shielded him from the cold.
“Why don’t you sit?” The words should have been innocent. They felt like a trap. “You’ve gathered for a meeting, haven’t you?” 
The league members didn’t move. Danny sighed.
“Fine, fine, fine.” He rolled his eyes and Batman was eerily reminded of how much the adolescent exasperation reminded him of his own children. Danny leaned off the chair arm to lean an elbow on the table instead, propping his chin up. He was all teeth. “The Infinite Realms wishes for peace. I’ve come to investigate the possibility of a treaty on behalf of the High King.”
<><><><>
“THERE’S A DENIZEN OF THE INFINITE REALMS IN THE WATCHTOWER??!!!”
Batman held the phone away from his face at Constantine’s uncharacteristic display of panic. It did not bode well and it settled uncomfortably in his bones.
He grunted in affirmation.
Constantine swore up and down enough to fill Alfred’s swear jar ten times over. “What do they want?! What did you say to them!? Ohhhh, bloody ****! You’ve already antagonized them haven’t you?!”
“No.” Batman ground out.
Constantine was quiet. Several seconds ticked by.
“. . .WELL?!”
“He claims the High King wants to negotiate for peace.”
There was silence on the other end. Batman usually preferred it when Constantine was quiet, but this was thick and seemed to claw out of the phone to infect the watchtower. It muffled the noises and beeps and drowned out the presence of the other league members who had stepped out of the conference room with him.
Then there was a great, controlled release of wavery air. When Constantine spoke, it was more serious than Batman ever remembered hearing him.
“Okay, okay.” Constantine mumbled to himself. “Listen closely, Bats, and repeat everything, and I mean everything, to your circus clowns.”
Superman cleared his throat. “We’re here.”
“YOU LEFT THE AMBASSADOR ALONE?!”
“Of course not! Wonder Woman and Martian Manhunter are monitoring him.” Batman said. 
Constantine grumble-sighed. “Good.” He mumbled. “Two of the competent ones. I don’t trust Bats not to **** this up and get us all killed.”
“What now?” Flash said.
Batman was a little offended. “Constan—“
“NO!” He yelled vehemently. He sounded a little manic. “Batsy, you have the emotional intelligence of a wet paper bag, a sad, trampled, wet paper bag with so many holes that it can’t even be considered a bag anymore, you have the emotional intelligence of wet, paper scraps and the diplomacy of a feral hyena! Unless he addresses you first, Do. Not. Initiate! Do not open your mouth! I have no faith in you whatsoever!”
“I will n—“ Batman tried to growl again, but Constantine cut him off. Again!
“No!” Constantine reiterated oh, so eloquently. “Look.” He sighed. “Getting news of the newest High King since he defeated the last one has been near impossible. All Deadman will tell me is that he’s better than the last guy and we are incredibly lucky our entire dimension wasn’t wiped out after that stunt the American government pulled with the Anti-ecto Acts.”
Batman saw some of the leaguers pale. He suddenly wasn’t feeling the best either.
“Anti-Ecto Acts?”
“Laws declaring their species non-sentient and illegal, I dealt with it, thing is, this is an extremely delicate situation.” He stressed. “We don’t know what kind of ruler he is, what little thing might set him off, and we cannot afford to set the High King off! Capiche?! It’s a good sign that he’s willing to negotiate peace, but he could change his mind. Some ghosts are very temperamental.”
“Ghosts.” Several of the leaguers repeated. Constantine let out an incredibly exasperated sound.
“Do you idiots know nothing?! Yes, ghosts! The Infinite Realms is the dimension between dimensions, the land of the dead and the never-born! They are incredibly powerful entities and many of them could level our planet easily! Whatever you do, DO NOT ask how they’ve died! It is highly taboo and you’ll get yourselves killed!” Constantine let out a stressed groan.
“I would come back and deal with this myself, but I am. . .occupied at the moment. Don’t try to negotiate without me! You lot will muck everything up! And seriously, DO NOT ASK HOW THEY’VE DIED! Keep the Ambassador happy until I can get there, convince him to stay! We might not have another chance like this, don’t annoy them, do not ignore them, and, just in general, don’t give the ambassador any reason to deliver anything negative to King Phantom and have him erase us all, got it?”
The Justice League exchanged several, stunned looks.
“Got it?”
Batman grunted.
“Good. And Bats.” Constantine added lowly. “If this fails, I am blaming you for the end of the world.”
Constantine ended the call and the phone beeped before drowning everyone in silence. The leaguers shared more looks.
“Now what?” Hal said.
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snaileer · 3 days
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We Didn’t Start The Fire
“See man, the moon!” Kid Flash said as they came outside, standing on the pile of rubble.
“And Superman! Do we fulfill our promises or what…” his voice trails off as a grinding clanking sound echoes behind them.
They turned around, confused to see a tricked out pale yellow Volkswagen bug trucking its way up the rubble and crumbled building blocks. It stopped before it got too steep, a man in a familiar white lab coat stumbling out.
Immediately, they were on guard, the man haphazardly climbing towards them.
Robin drew two batarangs in each hand, standing in front of Superboy as he got closer. It didn’t even matter that the Justice League had just landed behind them, if this CADMUS scientist tried something, Robin would be the first to defend Superboy. Without hesitance.
The man stopped in front of them, huffing for breath.
“You’re-!” He stopped, leaning over his knees with gasping breaths, “Sorry, one sec!” He held up a finger, gasping for another few seconds before stepping forward-
Chains of water surrounded him before they could blink, Robin looking back surprised to see Aqualad standing with extended weapons and a grim face.
“This is odd.” The man looked at the water wrapped around him, wriggling a bit before shrugging. His eyes zeroed in on Superboy, “You’re okay!” He said with a blinding grin.
Superboy recoiled and Robin immediately stepped between them.
“What.”
The man glanced at him briefly before looking back over Robin’s head, “You are okay right? I mean I tried my best but I couldn’t figure out a way to get you out- I mean if I’d known you were there to begin with I’d would have never-but then I wouldn’t have-
“Who are you?” Superman asks, suddenly close from behind them.
The man’s mouth clicks shut, looking between them all before a grimacing smile rises to his face.
He extends his hand at the elbow between the liquid chains, “Dr. Danny Fenton, ex-biochemical engineer of CADMUS labs Mr.Superman,sir.”
Flash zips forward, the eyes of his cowl narrowed, “Ex?”
The grimace turns into a wince. “Oh.. heh, yeah, I’ve found that arson is usually a pretty good kickstart of sudden unemployment,” there’s a thoughtful pause as he looks over the rubble, “It’s usually accidental though.”
Nobody responds.
“What? You didn’t think that lab fire started on its own did you? How else was I supposed to get you here?”
“There’s a Justice League public phone! That’s literally its entire purpose!” Kid Flash shouts, throwing his hands in the air. At this point, Aqualad cautiously lowers his water bearers, releasing Fenton.
“Oh, sure, I call a bunch of superheroes and tell them my boss is doing a Grow-Your-Own-Superman in the boiler room. That’d go over well.” He pauses, “Though the sidekicks was a surprise.”
The comment goes uncorrected, as the rest of the league has snapped to face Superboy the moment he says it.
Superman looks stricken as Superboy reveals the logo on his torn shirt.
Fenton unceremoniously breaks the tension, “Sorry I never asked, do you have a name? I’d feel really bad just calling you-“
“… They called me.. Superboy..” He says, still not looking away from the man of steel in front of him.
“That’s not-“ Fenton rubs his temples and sighs harshly, “Okay, I can fix that later, whatever-“
“You’re not gonna be ‘fixing’ anything, Doctor.” Robin snarls.
Fenton blinks. “Huh?”
Batman steps forward, “Green Lantern.”
Green construct cuffs snap around the Dr.Fenton’s wrists, though he looks at them puzzled.
“Superman, check for survivors in the damage, Flash find some salvageable evidence before it finishes burning. The rest of us, we’ll continue this interrogation at the hall.”
“Wait what?” Dr. Fenton says, perking up like a meerkat even as Batman turns away with swirl of his cape.
“What about me?” Superboy asks, desperation in his hesitant step forward.
Batman looks to Superman. Superman nods, and then shoots off into the rubble and emergency vehicles.
“For now, you come with us.” Batman says, and Superboy’s shoulders loosen just a hint.
The dark knight pauses again before turning completely, “And don’t think we’ve forgotten the rest of you,” he says, cowled eyes narrowed over his shoulder, “Robin.”
Robin shirks back, “Heh.. Right.”
“Wait what’s going on?” The Fenton scientist yelled back over his shoulder as Green Lantern pulls him away.
He starts to say something but the construct fully engulfs him now, shifting from a platform to a soundproof bubble.
It seems to shock him enough, Fenton tapping at the walls and looking like he wants to take it apart and take a sample.
Robin grit his teeth.
He was not gonna let these CADMUS freaks touch Superboy again.
Not Fenton or anybody else.
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snaileer · 5 days
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DCxDP Prompt
Ra's had a secret, one that not even his closest confidants knew of.
In an undisclosed location, in a twisting cave system deep below the earth, is a hidden cavern. Within that cavern is a very familiar green glow, but this pit is very different from the rest.
Because in the center of the pool, hung by an excessive amount of glowing chains is a pale being with white hair and green eyes. They hang limp and listless where they are impaled in countless places, leaking bright green into the pool below them.
This was Ra's greatest secret, Lazarus himself.
The being has never spoken, has never done more then stare listlessly at the pool beneath themselves and has never answered a single question Ra's has asked no matter what method he implemented.
Ra's had planned to bring Damian to Lazarus once he was old enough, but the child had proven himself unloyal once the detective got hold of him. It was a disappointment.
Tim though, had proven himself a more viable heir. Smarter, more clever and willing to do what the detective would not. So when he had taken Tim from the desert bleeding out from a fatal wound, he healed him and brought him to Lazarus.
What he didn't expect was for Lazarus to speak to Tim.
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snaileer · 5 days
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Fallen.
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Really enjoyed working on this commission about Jason. Thanks to my amazing commissioner🙏
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snaileer · 7 days
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Damian had never seen another person his age before.
“Wow, you're good at that.”
Damian froze in his practice and looked over at the boy. It was after his lesson, his instructor had other students to teach, and Damian had his own private training area. Well, it was supposed to be private. “Who are you?”
“Danny, what's your name?”
Damian glared at the boy. Who doesn't know who he is? “I am Damian Al-Ghoul, grandson of the Demon's Head, son of the Bat, heir to the League of Assassins.”
“Wow, that's a lot... Can I just call you Damian?”
“Servants call me Master. How did you get here?”
Danny shrugged, “I was just looking around.”
“Just looking around...”
“Yeah, my parents are in the science lab down in the bottom basement with the weird lake and I was helping them, but then I got board and Jazz said I wasn't allowed to leave the lab, but when I asked Dad, he said I could do what I want as long as I don't get in trouble.”
“Oh, the idiot scientists.” Damian remembered how his mother had described the new scientists hired to study the Lazarus Pools. A pair of geniuses when it came to the scientific study of magic but idiots in all other fields. Surely only idiots would bring their children to live with the League of Assassins.
“What do you mean? If you're a scientist you can't be an idiot?”
Damian huffed at the boy. “You can be smart at one thing and dumb at others. Like you could be good at reading but bad at numbers.”
“Oh, I guess that makes sense. But I'm pretty good at reading and numbers.” Danny then smiled brightly, “It looks like you're really good at swording though.”
“It's called swordplay. And yes, I am good at it. Better at it at my age than many who are older.”
“Can you show me how to do it?”
Damian contemplated for a moment, “As long as you don't get in the way of my practice, I don't see why not.”
Danny cheered as he ran up to where Damian was standing, but Damian pointed to the side of the training area, “There should be a spare sword over there you can use.”
Danny nodded and ran to get it then ran back.
Damian wasn't sure if he'd like showing Danny how to use a sword, but he liked how Danny followed all his instructions. It was different than how the servants followed his orders, but Damian couldn't place why. It became common place, for Danny to show up after Damian's lessons and Damian would show him what he'd learned. It actually made learning new things easier because Damian had to figure out how exactly something worked in order to show Danny how to do it. Not only that, but when they practiced the moves on each other, Danny would change them and make it harder to beat him. Damian did win every time, but Danny wasn't half bad.
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snaileer · 10 days
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2022. still proud of this one btw <3
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snaileer · 11 days
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The Smoke in my Lungs
Jason breathes in deeply as he leans against the railing of the fire escape, cigarette between his fingers. Thick Gotham air curls down his throat. He’s probably on one of the few fire escapes in Gotham that would hold his weight with risk or rust.
A necessity when you know vigilantes (and annoying acrobat almost brothers) who’d rather climb through a window than a flight of stairs.
He looks down at the cigarette in his hands, the tip dull in the darkness without a slow burning ember.
Of course it is. He didn’t light it. He never does.
Jason has smoked exactly one cigarette since his miraculous return. Some shitty hotel room in Turkey. Barely a month after the pit, and it had thrown him right back.
One inhale had left him shaking and sobbing in his closet for half a day, the taste of ash and smoke thick on his tongue.
The first thing he’d tasted when he’d woken. Ash, then darkness, then the pit, then… ash again.
Fire licked at his skin, wreckage a crushing weight on his chest, he couldn’t breathe, Bruce! Please! He can’t breathe, oh god he’s gonna-!
“Those’ll kill you y’know?”
Jason’s eyes snap up, spotting dark hair falling around the face dangling upside down in front of him.
“Dick.”
Nightwing smiles and flips down from fire escape above him to landing gently next to him, “No names in the masks,”
Jason smirks at him, “Who said I was using your name?”
Nightwing rolls his eyes, “Sure.”
“Whatdya want, dick?” Jason says, turning back out to the city, he doesn’t let his shoulders drop though, unwilling to hear it from Wing.
“Oh just stopping by, Red Robin’s gonna be rolling through soon, we’re working together tonight, figured he could just do a swing by. Thought I’d stop in while I waited.”
“Well, Nightwing,” Jason glared at him, “as a completely regular, normal, civilian, I appreciate the concern, but you can leave now.”
Nightwing opens his mouth to snark back, only to be cut off by a piercing siren going off a few blocks away. Both their heads snap to it.
“You better get that, Nightwing, civilian safety and all that,” Jason says with a small smirk.
Nightwing scowls at him, already backing up towards the railing, “I better see you at Sunday dinner,” he jumps to the railing, balancing for a second before tipping backwards.
“Farewell good citizen!” Nightwing shouts back as he swings across the next roof. Jason spots a second caped shadow join him in the distance. Tim finally caught up then. Good for him.
Jason crushed the tip of the unlit cigarette into his ashtray, turning to go inside.
He closed the window behind him, sighing into his empty apartment.
And smoke still filled his lungs.
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snaileer · 15 days
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I much prefer the 2nd image, many indigenous groups didn’t/don’t have borders like we have today. Asking to create borders is difficult and nonsensical especially for historically nomadic groups.
This is also an issue for Australian indigenous, the breakup of land sections there is… something that no one really agrees with.
But honestly seeing that map with just the native names of the area, written and labeled like a real map… it settled something in me.
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snaileer · 24 days
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I will forever respect Animorphs for tricking kids who are just really into animals to read a book series by going “Hey you, you daydream about what it’s like to be a dolphin or a bird or a wolf? Have I got a book for you!” and then slowly radicalizing them with 50+ books of “There are no winners in war. Whatever ‘victory’ you perceive comes at the cost of sacrificing your own morals and killing the part of you that is human. In the end you will resort to murder, torture and war crimes and the knowledge of what you have done will haunt you for as long as you live.”
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snaileer · 24 days
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This goes so fucking hard holy shit please watch
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snaileer · 24 days
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snaileer · 25 days
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i am an advocate for Big Dumb Man rights and i will not take this blatant erasure by the anime twitter users
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snaileer · 27 days
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Queued September 29, 2023, hello future me, let’s screw shiz up🤘🏼
So Arizona launched an “education hotline” that allows “concerned parents” to report “””critical race theory””” and other things like ~gender identity~ being taught in the classroom
It would be a shame if the number and email were spread to bad actors looking to prank call the AZ Department of Education
602-771-3500 or empower @ azed .gov 🤡
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snaileer · 1 month
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You know what idea has always ENCHANTED ME?
Ever since I saw it on a sci-fi show?
The Deadly Magical House That Loves You™. See, it's a house that has become something MORE. Gained sentience. And? Instead of acting out some cheap horror movie jump scares? It digs deep to its foundations, thinks long n hard, and decides on what it WANTS.
And it WANTS?
To be a HOME™.
To TAKE CARE OF somebody. Have LIFE in its halls. Meals at its tables. Joy and laughter bouncing across its walls. So? It lays a trap. Lures people in.
Come live in me~
I am a good home.
I am Free! I am "Safe". I will give you whatever your heart desires.
I care not for morality or laws. Boundaries or taboos. Do you desire? Come, come, be HAPPY~! Live in me! Relax here! Forget about the world beyond these walls. Anything I can not give you, I can bring TOO you! This is a Happy Home.
But, of course, such sentience and pushiness terrifies. People run and flee in horror. The house getting more aggressive. Trying to hold tighter. After all! If they would just STAY for a while, they would SEE! It's so LOVELY here! The would LOVE to live inside them!
But... instead?
They are hurt.
Doors smashed open. Windows broken to escape. Furniture thrown. Their avatar, Jeeves, bashed with heavy things. Why... WHY?! They are only trying to HELP! To LOVE them! Be a good HOME! They grow more and more run down. Starved. Wrathful.
It is, of course, their Obsession. To be a home. They are so very hungry.
When? Who should come along?
But the depressed AF Ghost King! He's been... not TECHNICALLY kicked out. But "things are tense" kicked out. He's tired. His college courses are remote. He can't really AFFORD rent. And everything is just...
He's TIRED.
He wants to cry.
Why... why can't he have ONE good thing? ONE sign everything's gonna be alright?
"Free House!"
Well... I mean... that IS a literal sign. Huh. He flies down. The house notices him. Tries to look as enticing as it can. And? Gasp! I... It's WORKING? This one seems INTERESTED? Quick! Flowerbeds! Look at my flowerbeds! Ooooh, lovely floooowers! A.. and there's probably really nice wood flooring! C'mon. C'moooon!
Danny? Sees a free Lair. Not too far from both Gotham AND Metropolis. Good location. Needs a little fixing up. But I mean... you can't beat free, right?
Is he really gonna do this?
......fuck it. Yeah, let's do this. First house time. He's just glad he carries a sharpie on him most of the time. Scribbles "Sold!" Over the sign then calls Jazz. He's... kinda not sure WHAT he's supposed to pack?
Finds out, post move in, whoop. Sentient Lair. Clingy, clingy, highly desperate sentient Lair. Oof. Guess fixing up the place can be therapy for both of us. Jazz helps.
The house heals. He falls into a routine. Schoolwork, hang out in the garden or the observatory, meals FaceTiming friends or watching videos, naps whenever he wants them. It's... it's so peaceful. Quiet and soothing to his agitated and worn down soul. Like a balm.
House gets him whatever he needs. They're kinda awesome like that. Always seems to have room to fit this or that. He doesn't question it. His brain figuring it works on Zone logic.
He probably SHOULD have.
Because? Things have been going missing. At a slow, steady, pace. Food, technology, entertainment. A building that shouldn't BE there, has been spotted in a wealthy county just outside of Superman and Batman's two cities.
No one can get near it.
It's been getting BIGGER.
Growing, like a tumor, room by room. Floor by floor. The gardens creeping like kudzu, to swallow everything in their path. Yet delivery drivers drop things off. Things they don't remember. On trips they don't recall. People are scared.
Amateur detectives have managed to discover some sort of starlit fae that lives there, along with a human boy.
Justice League Dark has been called in. Are currently standing just outside the slowly creeping property line. A garden statue just hissed at them. The trees are trying to throw acorns. A hushed argument has already broken out. How do they contain the house?
@the-witchhunter @nerdpoe @hypewinter @hdgnj @babbling-babull @mutable-manifestation @spidori @lolottes
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snaileer · 1 month
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DP x DC Prompt
Danny was sent to the DC universe to save him from the GIW and the Fenton's by Clockwork
Doesn't know what to do here, but as an Experienced Vigilante:tm: he takes note of all the INexperienced vigilante's causing more danger than they realize.
Danny takes it upon himself to act as a low level villain so he can secretly train these vigilante's to be stronger. One day, a Bigger Villain decides to Fuck Around and Find Out.
All his "enemies" realize Danny could've folded them anytime he wanted when he effortlessly defeats the Big Bad.
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snaileer · 1 month
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Gotham water is toxic as shit, and the biggest bill people have is buying bottled water from other places so that they can drink water.
Until.
A new invention gets introduced, from a kickstarter.
It takes off, and practically overnight becomes the next big thing, the creator becoming a millionaire.
But he doesn't run off with the money. He actually makes the invention and starts up a legitimate business that has payment plans for anyone.
The invention?
A filter that attaches to the sink faucet, or goes in the water towers (there's large versions for this). It uses moon rocks along with other weird things to filter, but test after test confirms that it creates the purest, healthiest drinking water.
The inventor is Tucker Foley.
What's actually happening is that there's tiny ecto blobs hidden in the rocks, which are actually from the moon (Danny ate the radiation off of them), and those little ecto blobs fucking love the toxins in Gotham's water. They'll eat 'em right up.
Problem; now the water companies that were making a living overcharging Gotham residents are hiring hitmen to take Tucker Foley out.
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snaileer · 1 month
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Time Unsolved
Dp Unsolved
“Today on Buzzfeed unsolved we cover the Timely Disappearance of Charles T. Williamsworth.”
Danny slurped loudly on his drink as the intro played. Was he maybe crazy for watching a Buzzfeed Unsolved True Crime alone, at night? Maybe.
But Danny had been attacked by ghosts. What was a human gonna do that Skulker couldn’t?
“What a name!” Shane cut it immediately, yellow words typing themself across the screen. Ryan laughed.
“‘Ello, yes, my name is Sir Charles T. Williamsworth, how art thou Ah yes, jolly good!” Shane mimicked with a horrifically bad posh British accent.
Ryan laughed harder, “We’ve been to London, they don’t sound like that!” He said between laughs.
“Uh, /he does! There’s no way a man with a name like that is not ‘mm yes I will take a spot of tea with my biscuit thank you.’ I’m calling it, he definitely talked like that!”
Danny smiled at the antics as Ryan wheezed, “Well it’s too bad we’ll never know for sure then isn’t it, what with his disappearance, y’know what we’re actually here to talk about.”
“That’s okay. /I’ll know. I know my buddy Charles.”
“Alright then.”
The screen was lit up with an image of a man on a black backdrop.
“The Williamsworths were a French-German family who moved to Biel, Switzerland in early 1914, just months before the largest war in European history kicked off.
They were one of the lucky few families to have left France before the war broke out…”
“Oh a family moving, that’s suspicious now?” Shane cut in.
“Well, it was right before World War 1, I mean the timing is kind of suspicious.” Ryan replied in blue.
-People move, Ryan.-
-Okay, okay, it’s just the facts of the case,.-
Danny rolled his eyes, ready for the story to continue.
The images came back.
“This move would evidently prove to be quite fortunate for the family for obvious reasons. However, it also led Charles to find his true passion: … Watchmaking.”
There was a pause as a map of Switzerland came on screen. “Biel, the town that Charles would live in for the majority of his recorded younger life, was known for watchmaking, being one of several in the heart of an area named ‘Watch Valley.’ “
-You ever own a Swiss watch?-
-Nope-
-Heard they’re good. Reeeal good.-
-Yep.-
-…-
“Charles would reportedly develop a passion for clocks, watches, and timepieces in general, only getting more entrenched in his obsession over time.”
The image of the man now shifted to be overlaid on a map.
“By the time the First World War was over, Charles had gained an ostentatious apprenticeship under one of the premiere watchmakers of the time, Max Stührling. This lasted until Stührling’s death in 1938, after which Charles vanished from any records for two years.”
-Well y’know, his mentor had just died. -Maybe he wanted to grieve. Y’know curl up in his room and not see anybody for a bit.-
Ryan laughed, -2 years, he was crying in his room for 2 years and nobody found him?-
-Well, it’s not like records were great back then, I mean what are you gonna write on the census… just.. like..-
-Loud weeping heard from inside. One resident. Unnamed.-
-Yeah!-
“The next time Charles T. Williamsworth appears on record, it is in the back of a photo from France in 1940. Showing Williamsworth standing in front of a watch shop wearing dark clothes, a distinct pocket watch, and looking into the camera.”
The black and white image appears on screen, zooming in on the background figure. Danny tilts his head at it, something about it niggling at him.
“The shop and its owner would go on to be infamous within the town for the duration of the Second World War. Charles was unwillingly drafted in the summer of 1941, serving on the front lines for no more than 3 months before sustaining a wound to his face, leaving him with damaged eyesight, facial scarring, and a medical discharge.
He returned to his shop soon after.”
Danny frowned at the mention of what the man had probably gone through.
“With later evidence statements regarding Charles stating that he was an ‘odd man. He never mentioned the war, leaving it behind once he was not forced to be a part of it. He seemed to be separate from it all, he only cared for his watches.’
This sense of separation would extend to his shop, as when the town was bombed in 1944 leading up to D-day, his shop was left miraculously unharmed. It was reportedly open the very next day.”
-I can appreciate the dedication- Shane says in yellow.
-Yeah, I mean, the morning after is a bit soon, but he did really love watches. If he didn’t have to, I guess he wasn’t gonna close his shop.-
-He’s advertising, ‘Sure you were almost killed in a fiery explosion, but look! I’ve got new watches!’-
Ryan laughs.
“Over the next 50 years, Charles T. Williamsworth would disappear from records repeatedly, sometimes for months, only present on seven censuses between 1952 and 1979. Despite this, the clock shop was never sold, remaining in wait for its master’s return.”
Multiple pictures of pocket watches came onscreen. “It became known in the surrounding area for especially good pocket watches and grandfather clocks. Each personally made using Swiss essemblage practices, often engraved.
While it was a place of prestige, some described the shop as having ‘an unbearably loud sound of ticking, as if a thousand clocks were set to the same second.’
Apparently, Charles ‘seemed to enjoy the sound, often standing in the front room when no one was present. He was able to pick out one clock if it was off time.’ Witnesses stated.”
It cut to showing Shane and Ryan at their table.
“God, I can’t imagine. That’d drive me crazy.” Shane said, shaking his head.
“Yeah, I don’t know, a thousand clocks at the same time? Just..” Ryan looked back and forth frantically, as if there were sounds from every direction, “I’d go nuts pretty fast, I can’t even handle one sometimes.”
“I’d just go off and punch one of the clocks, just- RAAAH and -oh my god is that where that comes from?! I’m gonna punch your clock? Or like you clock somebody!?! Oh my god I never realized that!”
Danny’s jaw drops at the realization as Ryan laughs. Shane looks to be losing his mind as well.
“However, Charles’ most notable disappearance was his last.”
Dramatic music played as Danny zoned back in.
“Due to his frequency of vanishing for extended periods of time, it is unknown when exactly Charles disappeared. The last definite sighting of Charles T. Williamsworth was late at night on April 23rd, 1999, when neighborhood patrolman, Elliot Dubois, noticed him locking the door to his shop with its lights still on. Elliot, concerned for the safety of the elderly man, questioned him but eventually allowed Charles to leave, noting that he turned down a road that only led into the woods outside of town.
Two weeks later, 12 year old James Chappellè, a mailboy in the area, noted during his morning run on May 7 that mail had begun to pile up in front of the shop’s door.
Something that had never happened before.”
The word ‘before’ faded into red.
“It reached such a point that the mail system declared they would no longer deliver, as they couldn’t guarantee it wouldn’t be stolen.
At this point, the police got involved and the case was assigned to Detective Jacob Laurent.
It turned out to be a more difficult case than first expected, as when they looked into Charles’ past, they were unable to turn up any such notable documents as a birth certificate nor any document containing a birthdate.
But when police entered the shop on May 10th, they found it largely empty, with only the shelves, register, and equipment left remaining between the front and back room.
It should be noted that there was still money in the register, and a light on in the back though the other bulbs for the front seemed to have been burnt out.
Upon entering the living space above the shop, it was found to be covered in dust, and all of Charles’ clothes and belongings still present.
Rather, there was evidence that Charles largely slept in his shop, with a cot beside his workbench.
A workbench that, upon police entry, only held one gold pocketwatch, personally engraved with the initials ‘C. W.’ As it was known for Charles to always carry the pocketwatch, he was officially declared missing and possibly presumed dead.
The watch’s presence also led detective Laurent to suspect foul play.
However, despite the declaration of foul play, the police did not extensively search the town woods, citing the size and density of the forest.”
The video cut to Shane staring at Ryan, face deadpan. Ryan was clearly trying to hold back laughs.
“So… let me get this straight… an old man who’s… how old at this point exactly?”
Ryan laughs, “Nobody knows, there’s no known birthday-“
“That’s weird too, but okay, let’s say he’s like what, at least 95? I mean… there’s a certain age that like if you disappear… ..eh.” Shane shrugged.
Ryan looked at him incredulously, “Eh??”
“Yeah,” Shane shrugged again, “Eh.”
“What???”
“I mean… y’know… old people wander into the woods sometimes, maybe he just went for a walk and got lost. At that age… death has gotta be around every corner, I mean come on!”
Ryan wheezed into his elbow.
Danny laughed quietly.
Once Ryan calmed down, he organized the file, clipping it down on the table, “So! With the story finished, let’s get into the theories,”
Shane rolled his eyes, “Oh god this is gonna be one of yours isn’t it? What ghosts are abducting people now?”
Danny smiled, briefly considering how much effort it would take to go haunt Shane all the way in LA.
“The first theory is that Charles T. Williamsworth was involved with the mafia at the time and was a long standing or high ranking member that had crossed the wrong people.
Some reasons for this theory is the lack of early documents, suggesting a fake identity or forgery.
This case is especially supported by the long absences, where his shop remained closed and yet still remained in his possession.
In fact, the deed for the shop was not listed under Charles’ name, instead Iisted as owned under a private organization.
This theory explains his disappearance and possible subsequent death as an act of revenge from an enemy made from illicit activities. Leaving no body behind, there would be no evidence to prosecute the acting party.
Within this, there are also some who believe that if Charles was engaged in the mafia and lived under a false identity, that his disappearance was him returning to his actual identity, possibly due to being caught.
Prison records indicate 6 Swiss-German inmates arrested at the approximate time of his disappearance, roughly matching the age and appearance of Charles. Notably, none of them had a distinct facial scar and no identification was ever confirmed.”
The screen switched.
Shane smiled at Ryan, “Oh Ho Ho, my boy Charles is getting into some funky stuff, huh? Workin’ for the Mob, breaking knees, chopping fingers?”
Ryan laughed, “Yeah maybe, it definitely lends credit to him being a part of something. Maybe he was out in the woods breaking knees y’know. Or burying something.”
“Someone,…”Shane said ominously, then burst out laughing, “What if he buried himself! Just-“Shane mimed digging, clapping his hands like he was wiping off dust, “Alright, thats a good illegal grave right there, just a good hole for a dead- woaaah!” He pretended to fall, “Boom, stuck in his own grave.”
“Really, this old man dug a 6 foot deep grave? On his own?”
“Hey you don’t know his strength, maybe he lifts.”
“Alright.” Ryan shook his head, still grinning.
Danny smiled, considering it, it did kind of make sense.
“The second theory is that Charles T. Williamsworth did indeed just walk into the woods and never come out. If this is the case, what happened in the woods is widely speculated on. Some saying that animals may have attacked him, or that he simply fell or was injured and could not get up due to his age.
This theory loses support due to the fact that no body was ever found. Though some say that if the woods were too big for the police to search, there may be a den or that his body was covered naturally.”
“Or in a grave.”
“You really think he was mafia?”
“I mean, who could tell?” Shane shrugged.
“The third theory, much like the first, is that Charles was a federal agent for one of the Allied Powers.
This theory is also supported by the significant periods of absence and lack of documents to indicate a forged identity, meant to fool the German government and allow him to work behind the lines. However, unlike the first, there is also evidence of a man with the same distinct scar on his eye, showing up in the background of photos at the British Intelligence Office, the Eiffel Tower during Germany’s occupancy, and behind closed Swiss borders.
None of which would be possible without the unique skills and permissions of a government agent.”
Silence reigned as Shane and Ryan stared each other down, Shane clearly ramping up for something.
“The name’s Williamsworth. Charles Williamsworth.” He said dramatically.
Ryan burst out laughing. “You support this one more then?”
“Yeah, I’ve changed my mind, he’s not in the mafia. His suspicious activities were in the name of secrecy, national secrets, confidential war trades. Espionage…”
“Well I guess, nobody’s gonna suspect the 95 year old man to be up to anything. I mean, if I saw an old man somewhere I’d just be like, huh I wonder who lost their grandpa, not ‘I bet he’s secretly working to take down Hitler.’ Y’know.”
“Charles gets caught: just ‘Whaa-at me~e? I’m just a gentle~e o~ ol~ld ma~an, I can’t harm nobody~y.” Shane mimed leaning over a cane.
“He gets caught and just pretends he has dementia, ‘Who am I? Who are you? Why am I here? Where’s my breakfast?”
Shane cackled as Ryan laughed.
Danny considered it more, this one seemed the most likely, though… he’d definitely be the oldest agent.
“Another theory is that the shop was robbed and Charles returned while or before it was happening, catching the criminals off guard and leading them to react rashly, injuring or killing Charles. They then would have hidden his body and cleaned out the shop to hide any other evidence.
This theory however is disproven by the lack of money taken from the register.
Despite this, it is the official claimed circumstance by the police at the time.”
“Fucking police, always with the boring one.” Shane said ruefully.
“Our last theory, and my personal favorite,-“
Shane groaned. Danny smiled, this was gonna be good.
“-is that Charles T Williamsworth was a time traveler. And that all of his disappearances were when he was traveling through time.
This theory supports his families early move to Switzerland under odd timing, his appearance in so many photos and even his obsession with clocks. As well as why he seemed unbothered by the tumultuous times.”
“I can… accept it.” Shane said, hesitant.
Ryan laughed, “I’ll take it.”
“Despite all of these theories, there is still significant information missing from the case.
And so, like clockwork this case shall remain:
Unsolved.”
Danny’s mouth dropped as the screen went dark.
No way.
No freaking way.
He lurched upwards, eyes wide.
Obsessed with clocks, scar on his eye, fricking weird and talks in riddles.
Oh mygod!
Danny threw himself out of bed, “I’ve connected the dots!” He rushed to untangle himself from his sheets, transforming immediately, “I’ve connected them!”
He dove for the ghost portal.
Holy frick!
Charles T. Williamsworth was Clockwork!
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