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caseoftheblues · 3 years

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i will fight you on this but jason can definitely play guitar. fuck you.

he has an old acoustic that his mom used to play before the drugs, and it's one of his only keepsakes from her. he takes it with him everywhere. he also has a shiny electric that bruce bought him a year after arriving at the wayne household that jason now refuses to play because the sheer principle of the thing.

(he totally plays it all the time, and bruce totally knows. he sounds wonderful.)

so he writes songs sometimes, sue him! its, dare he say it, therapeutic. and kinda fun. (not that he's willing to admit it.)

and then there's damian, who's an absolute god on the violin and piano. they're seriously so good. dick totally cries when they win a competition or two at school.

and they've been trying to get along better with their brothers, even if they're total assholes sometimes. (damian's an asshole back, they suppose, so it all evens out.) so when damian hears jason playing guitar in one of the manors libraries, they quickly grab their violin and join in.

it's quiet at first, and damian's pretty sure that this song is one that jason wrote, so they kinda nightwing it, but it works, surprisingly. and then duke passes by, and starts making a simple beat on the table, and- beatboxing? some a capella thing that damian doesn't know the name of and- holy shit. they all sound good.

and as the music slowly peters out in a harmonious cacaphony, jason says we should start a band, only half joking, when damian-

"that is not the worst idea you've ever had, todd."

and if damian shows interest in something, no matter how well (not) they cover it up, well. you have to do it.

jason sighs. "you in, goldie?"

"sure, why not," duke shrugs. "making music with you guys isn't the worst thing that i could do."

and if duke's agreeing? jason's really in for it now.

and so they make a small album, maybe five, ten songs, under the band name-

("we are not calling it the dead robin's club, todd. one, it is way two obvious, and two-"

"i haven't even died yet!"

"thomas hasn't even died. plus, brown would be upset, and her singing voice is atrocious. you know how she gets."

"fine, jesus! what do you want to call it, then, demon spawn?"

"we-"

"war on songbirds?")

-war on songbirds, as decided by duke. (they call the album robin war, in refrence to when they really got to know eachother. and they totally have a song called the dead robins club. it was too good to pass up.)

it's an eclectic mix for sure, a strange combination of classical, pop punk and something not unlike rap, but it's pretty good. they alternate who sings the songs, based on who wrote them or feels the most kinship with it.

(damian writes/sings songs based in fiction, as their emotional outlet is art. they have only one song that they sing on the album, which is a beautiful classical folksy song about a bird committing arson. it's weird, and beautiful, and so fucking damian that jason and duke laugh good heartedly when they hear it. it's a wonderful, if morbid, song. they also drew the album cover with duke, which is a beautiful mix of hyperrealism and street art, perfectly reflecting the theme of the album.)

(duke is a mix of the two. his songs are more punkish rap, based heavily on his parents; accepting their death and still loving them as well as the other family he was blessed with. he wrote and sang two of the songs, the other being a wonderful piece about found family, as well as the album cover i mentioned above. his songs are favorites of orphans and other like people struggling to love their parents and not let that undermine the people who are helping them.)

(jason, predictably, went the pop punk/rock route. his songs are heavy, but have a strangely- almost peppy melody, reflecting the masks he wore. the lyrics are based on all the trials he went through. there is emphasis on betryal, trust issues, and manipulation so subtle you don't know it's happening until you're too far gone. (this is of course about talia and his time with the league) that song is a particular favorite of harley quinn. there's also a happy song about reconciliation with family, which he loves.)

but let's be honest for a second. they didn't expect it go go anywhere. they didn't expect it to get famous. it was such a weird and unprecedented style with heavy, morbid lyrics and they didn't think anyone would like it.

but of course, this is gotham. it would be an understatement to say that it caught on.

it exploded.

but the absolute the worst thing about this whole business? (that isn't to say that they weren't excited that they got popular. they were. it's nice to have people validate your trauma via song) was their family.

the bats loved it.

how could they not? it's got trauma, found family, dead parents, and a little bit of morbid fun to distract from it all. just like them. even bruce listened to it, and he hardly ever likes music.

it was mortifying. if they were found out? they would never live it down. thankfully, no one seemed to notice, despite the lyrics being fairly obvious to those in-the-know. ("greatest detectives my ass.")

but they didn't think about cass. no one did, in these situations. until, of course, it was too late.

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sapphiics · 3 years

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last day of august so let’s talk my top hits for the month!!

book(s) read: your heart is a muscle the size of a first by sunil yapa. only one because i’m still trying to get back into reading regularly but it’s a 4.9/5 for me. super descriptive, almost to the point of being annoying but i like being able to picture the scene in as much detail as possible. brutal and touching all in one, and a perfect last line that ties it all together. living really is all about love and care for humanity which is such an important theme in the novel. not a 5/5 because a white activist woman had locks :/

movies: only one movie I watched this month like. mattered (😐) and that was mosquita y mari by Aurora Guerrero on netflix ! i got sick of seeing the same white gay films on every wlw rec list, and this film is more of a coming of age and the intricacies of girlhood, but that damn couch scene😭 that couch scene fundamentally changed my core being. sadly, the movie feels very unfinished, and it’s a shame the director hasn’t been able to make a second movie.

albums: as someone who’s not much of an album listener, i did find one i really enjoyed this month. Vagabond Lullabies by Po’ Girl is folksy and soothing, with slower songs and background music that relies heavily on acoustic guitar and banjos. I’ve Got Time is one of the prettiest songs i’ve ever heard

songs: august ‘twas a very good month for my ever improving music taste, and it’s brought me some of my favorite songs! teen angel by mark dinning, superlover by birds of chicago, 49 ceiling tiles by schaefer llana (thanks to @longleggedsocialist ‘s music recs 😋) disenchanted by my chemical romance, natalie portman 2002 by Jason Is and cognac queen by eternal crush miss megan thee stallion!

video essays/podcasts: I only listen to one podcast, and that is the drama queens oth podcast! i’m a diehard tree hill fan and i love hearing the women take back the show and make it theirs. i only started watching video essays like three days ago 😛 but i watched two and thoroughly enjoyed them

a history of disney channel original movies

how drivers license by olivia rodrigo captures suburban sadness

can’t wait to see my dash flood with september poems for the next week <333

#long post #monthly highlights #<—- new tag for this #nobody asked for this but i wanted to so there’s that #p

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queen-of-the-trash-planet-tm · 4 years

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Daminette December Day 5: Fire (Continues from day 4’s prompt of gaming)

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Damian Wayne Al Gul was never known for backing out from challenges. So when the opportunity came to “unmask” Ladybug, you best believe he was determined to seeing that to completion. A game plan began brewing in his head, “How am I going to get a Parisian streamer/designer to come to the states?” He muttered to himself, “There need to be a reason.”

‘What could make her want to come?’ Damian thought. There in his room, you could smell the oil and hear the gears turning inside his head. He brought his fingers to his temples, completely lost to the world at the momment. And then, it hit him. “I’ve got it!” He almost screamed, “I could make it into a sponsorship!”

“Hey, Demon-Spawn!” Jason barged into the room. A kunai flew passed his head, “Do- Watch it! Anyway Brucie wants us in the living room.”

Damian scowled. His plans would have to wait for now. This had better be good. As he made his way to the living room, Damian didn’t have the slightest clue that old Brucie Boy was about to make his job a hell of lot easier.

*Line Break*

On the other side of the world, our favorite girl had just finished “Tim Drake’s” commission. The client didn’t give much detail into what they wanted, all they said was to make them a suit and mask for the masquerade. Marinette had full creative liberty over the suit and mask. She wanted to go over the top, but on the off chance it was actually Timothy Drake himself it needed the right amount of subtlety to be functional.

(A/N: I’m not really good at describing clothes, but I couldn’t find anything that looks like I have in my head. Sorry!)

Marinette doesn’t do themes often, but she decided this design would become the newest part of her “Elements” collection. The suit jacket itself was a dark green, almost gray, color with multicolored leaves hand stitched into the material. Marinette had barely made it visible, but if one looked close enough it was definitely there. The pocket square was olive green with brown undertones as was the bow tie. The suit’s pants were the the same color as the jacket. The mask, however, the mask made the piece come together. The mask itself was brown, but the small details on the mask were lined with gold thread. Everything about this look screamed nature.

It had taken her a week to complete, and boy was it worth it. Marintte was relieved it was over, but loved the finished result. She packaged the suit and mask duo and placed her handwritten thank you note inside. The note read, “Dear Mr. Drake, Thank you for commissioning me for your gala. I do not know if it is the real Tim Drake and if it’s not please remember you do not have have to lie to get my attention. But if it is in fact Timothy Drake, himself, I want to thank you for this opportunity. I hope everything is up to your standards. Please continue to commission me for anything! Thank you for shopping at “Miss Fortune” Bug our! Signed, Ladybug” Marinette went straight to the post office to ship it to the American adress and returned home shortly after.

The next day at school would have Marinette begging for someone to put her out of her misery. It was announced that the class had won the Wayne scholarship to visit Gotham. And while Marinette was happy her hard work had seen results, it meant more work would be piled onto her. Ms. Bustier had cut her train of thought off, “Oh, and before I forget, we are invited to the Wayne’s annual Christmas charity gala. And Alya, there is absolutely no recording or interviews. If you fail to adhere to these rules, you will be bard from any and all other activities involving the Wayne family.”

Alya looked deflated by that fact. Lila was going to cook up some lie about knowing the Wayne’s, but once again Ms. Bustier had opened her mouth again, “Lila, we all know about your condition to lie uncontrollably. That being said, if you feel compelled to lie about knowing the Wayne family I would keep your mouth shut. Gotham is known as the city with the highest crime rate in the world. The Waynes have been known targets of Gotham’s villains, we wouldn’t want to be put in danger.”

Marinette had smirked at that comment and Lila eye had twitched, “Of course Ms. Bustier!”

The only thought that was going through Marinette’s head after that was, ‘What am I going to wear?’

*Line Break*

A month had passed and the trip to Gotham was tomorrow. Marinette decided to tell her followers on her twitch why there would be no more streams for another two weeks or so, “Today I just want to let you guys know that I will not be going live for like two weeks. I’ll be in America with my school for a trip. We’ll be attending a very important event there! I hope you guys won’t forget about when I’m gone!”

The comments and donations came in hordes. Most claiming that they could never forget about a gaming goddess. There where some asking about where in America she was headed to, “Well, usually I wouldn’t say anything. Buuuut, this is a very large city! We are headed to Gotham city!”

At 3:28 pm Damian Wayne, felt his heart stop. Ladybug would be in Gotham because of her Parisian class for an important event. There was only one Parisian class that had won if he remembered correctly, he’d have to ask Tim. Damian grabbed his phone in a attempt to see if Marinette would answer this frantic texting.

Her phone dings on stream, “Wow, I’m sorry guys I thought I had that on silent,” Marinette silences her phone but pays no attention to the contents on it. Her phone continues to buzz, “I’m so popular today,” she giggled, “To Damian, who I know is watching, can you please stop texting me when I’m live? Please and thank you. And before you heathens ask, no Damian does not know who I am so do go snooping to try and find out who he is,” She said in her heavily accented English.

Damian decided he would talk to her later, lest she be angry at him. The stream was relatively short today, only an hour and a half. Marinette had to go so that she would “actually be alive in the morning” as she put it. And when the cat is away, the birds go and play. Damian donned his Robin persona as he took it upon himself to continue his mission in uncovering Ladybug.

As he suspected, only one class from Paris had won the scholarship. The class president’s name had also just so happened to be none other than Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Damian then deduced that Marinette Dupain-Cheng and Ladybug are the same person. Oh, what fun this was going to be.

During the Parisian class’s time in Gotham, they had left Marinette behind 5 times. Let me repeat that. Caline Bustier, an educator and chaperone, had left one of her students in one of the world’s most dangerous cities not once, not twice, not even thrice, but five times. Thankfully on her first time she had ran into a young Arabic man named Damian. Marinette laughed at how much this Damian had reminded her of her client. He wasn’t wearing her designs though so she couldn’t tell if they were one and the same, spoiler alert: they were!

The night of the gala had arrived and Damian asked to accompany her as her date. Marinette would have normally said “no, thank you” but Damian and Marinette had gotten to know each other over the course of her adventures in Gotham. So instead she said, “Yes!”

Marinette had spent a month on her newest creation. The purpose for this gala and this one alone. It would make its debut in her “Elements” collection, after the trip. Marinette was particularly proud of this one, this time the theme was fire and boy was there going to be one. The mask she wore was lined with blue to symbolize one of the hottest flames there are.

(A/N: As stated earlier I’m not good at describing clothing, so here’s a picture of what I’m talking about. Also this is not mine and kudos to whoever did make it because I want this for myself.)

Damian waited patiently for his date to arrive. He was dressed in the exact opposite way. Cool blues and slivers donned his suit. His mask was white with red linning to contrast Marinette’s blue. None of what he was wearing was of “Miss Fortune” though. There wasn’t enough time for him to ask.

When Marinette exited the elevator, Damian had the wind knocked out of him. She looked like ethereal and in that momment Damian wasn’t sure if she really existed. He had seen the dress on her streams while she was making it, but this was the first time he had seen Marinette wearing it. Marinette was the epitome of regality.

But when Marinette saw Damian dressed like the prince she’d known him to be, Marinette almost fainted. Together they looked like gods gracing mortals with their presence. Anyone who saw them, assumed such as well. They’d stop and stare at Adonis and his Aphrodite.

They walked the red carpet and at that moment Marinette realized three things, one: She would have to reveal herself as Ladybug, two: she would have to explain herself to her followers, and three: Damian is that Damian Wayne???

“Surprise?” He said with a raising of his shoulders.

“We’ll talk later,” she said lowly.

Together they passed the reporters to enter and Marinette made her big reveal, “Miss! Miss! Who are you wearing? It’s gorgeous!”

“I’m wearing my own design! I run a website called Miss Fortune. You would probably recognize me as Ladybug on Twitch though,” she giggled.

Before she could answer anymore questions, Damian pulled her inside to the actual Gala. He couldn’t wait to see the looks on his brother’s faces when they relized who he had on his side. And by the sound of the shriek that ran throughout the halls, Tim and Dick had just found out. They raced over in an attempt to introduce themselves to her.

Marinette noticed that Tim was wearing the suit she had made back in November. She paled when she remembered accusing him of lying in her note, “You are wearing my design. You weren’t lying to me!”

Marinette was apologizing and Tim didn’t need it. She had every right to be suspicious whenever someone claimed to know or be part of the Wayne crew. Jason had a Batcow when he noticed the angel of a girl on the arm of a demon. And then freaked out even more once, he heard who she was.

The rest of the night went off without a hitch. Well... that was before Alya and Lila were escorted out for recording and lying on the Wayne Family name. Oh, boy legal was going to have so much fun with them.

Bruce Wayne seen four of his children huddled around a small French-Asian woman. He thought he should introduce himself. Unknown to Marinette Bruce was also wearing her work. Apparently Damian had commissioned that suit for Bruce’s birthday. Marinette almost fainted for the second time that evening.

As the party came to a close, Damian and Marinette stepped out to chat alone, “I know this is kind of forward, but would you like to accompany me on a date soon?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Marinette smiled as she rested her head on Damian’s shoulder while staring at the sky.

Fire is volatile. It can burn, destroy, and even kill. But fire is also rebirth, warmth, and passion. Marinette is the fire to Damian’s ice. Complete opposites that complete each other, just as it should be.

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A/N: So the two shot is over!!!! Did you all like it? I think this one is my favorite so far. In any case thank you for all the notes, comments, and reblogs on the last part. I really appreciate it! If you want to be tagged let me know in the comments!

@daminette-december2019 @persephonebutkore @gingerdaile @seraphichana @mystery-5-5 @krispydefendorpolice @jardimazul @royalchaoticfangirl @theoryfan205 @goblinwhoships @emeraldpuffguide @spicybelladonna

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adventurepunks · 4 years

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𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑨𝑪𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑺𝑯𝑬𝑬𝑻. repost, don’t reblog !

𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐬.

FULL NAME …. Roy Harper NICKNAME …. Speedy, Red Arrow, Arsenal GENDER …. Male SIZE …. 5 ft 11 AGE …. mid to late twenties (mainverse) ZODIAC …. Scorpio SPOKEN LANGUAGES …. English, and some broken fragments of others/

𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬.

HAIR COLOR …. Red EYE COLOR …. Green SKIN TONE …. Pale BODY TYPE …. Lean muscle VOICE …. mid range DOMINANT HAND …. right POSTURE …. Awful SCARS …. Multiple TATTOOS …. on both arms , lookie here BIRTHMARKS …. nope MOST NOTICEABLE FEATURE(S) …. red hair

𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝.

PLACE OF BIRTH …. Seattle HOMETOWN ….Star City SIBLINGS …. Bird (adoptive father) PARENTS …. Roy Harper Sr (deasead father), Brave Bow (adoptive father),Oliver Queen (adoptive/foster father)

𝐚𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞.

OCCUPATION …. Goverment agent, vigilante, mercenary (depending on verse) CURRENT RESIDENCE(S) … New York CLOSE FRIENDS …. Jason Todd, Kory Anders,Donna Troy, Teen Titans, Titans RELATIONSHIP STATUS …. single FINANCIAL STATUS …. poor /working class DRIVER’S LICENSE …. Yes CRIMINAL RECORD ….Yes VICES …. Alcohol , recovered drug addict

𝐬𝐞𝐱 & 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞.

SEXUAL ORIENTATION …. Bisexual, leans heavily towards women PREFERRED EMOTIONAL ROLE . pff feelings are for suckers *please hold me* PREFERRED SEXUAL ROLE …. Often TURN ONS …. confidence, strength,playful personality TURN OFFS .. prudishness ,snobbishness, anything that has to go with the Elite LOVE LANGUAGE …. acts of service, RELATIONSHIP TENDENCIES …. sore subject

𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬.

CHARACTER’S THEME SONG …. pass HOBBIES TO PASS TIME …. skating, movies, music MENTAL ILLNESSES …. eek check headcanon tag LEFT OR RIGHT BRAINED …. Right PHOBIAS …. being abandoned, losing his loved ones, an irrational feat of a cockroach laying eggs in his ear. SELF CONFIDENCE LEVEL …. 8/10

tagged by : @titanofthemoon <3

tagging : YOU SEEING THIS AND WANTING TO DO THIS

#;;roy harper hc #;;roy harper sheet

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supernaturallied · 5 years

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Character Sheet

Tagged By: @mxlprxctice

Tagging: @werewclved , @unreflectd , @talesofives (Max)

𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐬 !

FULL NAME. Robert Charles Wilson

NICKNAME. Rob, Bob, Charlie, Bobbie, Bobblehead, Willy, Wilson

GENDER. Male

HEIGHT. 5′ 9″

AGE. 67

ZODIAC. Sagittarius

SPOKEN LANGUAGES. English, some French, some Latin

𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬 !

HAIR COLOR. Greying Brown

EYE COLOR. Brown

SKIN TONE. Fair, borders on pale due to age and is covered in freckles and sunspots in some places

BODY TYPE. Falls somewhere between ecto and endomorph. He’s definitely got a bit of chub on him due to weight gain from his age, but it’s also plenty easy to see Wilson’s collarbones and ribs. His arms and legs are also muscly and strong from the kind of work he does, if a bit cushy from the fat buildup on them.

VOICE. Canonically Peter Weller

DOMINANT HAND. Mixed-handed (not ambidextrous)

POSTURE. He has good, if a bit rigid, posture. He stands and sits up straight and refrains from slouching, though it is harder to relax after all. Generally his posture is very attentive and a good portion of the time, it’s closer rather than open- arms crossed, hands on hips, etc.

SCARS. Many. His most prominent ones are the one one on the side of his head right by his brow, a very faded one along the bridge of his nose, and the surgery scar running diagonally across his chest. But they litter all over his body really.

TATTOOS. None.

BIRTHMARKS. He has a few dark birthmarks on him that could easily pass as freckles. But his most prominent ones are a dark patch on his left side by his last rib (it looks vaguely like a bird in his mind) and on the popliteal area of his right leg that looks like a scratch.

MOST NOTICEABLE FEATURE(S). Heavy set eyes, the deep wrinkles on his face, and his 5 o’clock shadow most likely.

𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 !

PLACE OF BIRTH. New Jersey

HOMETOWN NEIGHBORHOOD. —

SIBLINGS. William Herman Wilson

PARENTS. Meredith Wilson, Turner Wilson (both deceased)

𝐚𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 !

OCCUPATION. Shop Owner, mechanical repair expert and retired veteran

CURRENT RESIDENCE. His childhood home inherited from his parents, located out in a nice suburban almost rural area. Nice neighbors, plenty of woodlands, and a big yard.

CLOSE FRIENDS. Bela Belascó, Elsa Wolcott, Kurt Mosby

RELATIONSHIP STATUS. Widower

FINANCIAL STATUS. Middle Class

DRIVER’S LICENSE. Yes

CRIMINAL RECORD. None. Although Wilson would definitely have been charged with lying to a government official and some type of obstruction for lying so William would not have to go to war.

VICES. None

𝐬𝐞𝐱 & 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 !

SEXUAL ORIENTATION. Bisexual

PREFERRED EMOTIONAL ROLE. submissive | dominant | switch

PREFERRED SEXUAL ROLE. submissive | dominant | switch

LIBIDO. Fairly low (varies by verse)

TURN ONS. Constant close contact (like dancing), flirting, heavy petting, nipping or body kisses, touches to his sensitive areas and face

TURN OFFS. Conflict, loud noises at close proximity, the risk of getting caught (depends on the partner)

LOVE LANGUAGE. Wilson as a partner is very romantic and relies heavily on touch, gestures, and speech to convey his feelings. He loves physical contact, loves being close, and will never forget to remind his partner how much he loves them. Pet names and sweet talk are his favorite way of talking. He’s not quite Shakespeare, but his gifts make up for it.

RELATIONSHIP TENDENCIES. Be prepared for plenty of forehead presses, kisses, surprise hugs, and a whole lot of fuzzy nuzzling. Wilson can’t keep his hands off of his partner, though he’ll pull back if they ask to avoid making them uncomfy. His determination to move heaven and earth for someone falters only with his obsessive compulsions and need to make things perfect. He needs someone who can gently tell him if he’s being smothering, and who can handle him when he’s not himself.

𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬 !

CHARACTER’S THEME SONG(S). Burn It Down - Fitz and the Tantrums, Echo - Jason Walker, Gives You Hell - AAR, I’ll Never Love Again - Lady Gaga, Moves Like Jagger - Maroon 5

HOBBIES TO PASS TIME. Reading books, doing crosswords or any other kind of puzzle, building little trinkets, doing little DIY projects around the house, making toys for his niece, starmapping, going for hikes in the woods, swimming

LEFT OR RIGHT BRAINED. Left-brained; he’s a smarticle particle, loves to think logically, follow plans and schedules, and carry out things methodically- though often he does have a bit of creative flair he thrown into the mix.

PHOBIAS. Entomophobia (fear of bugs), nychtophobia (fear of the dark), Automatonophobia (fear of stuffed toys, mannequins, and dolls)

SELF CONFIDENCE LEVEL. Overall it’s pretty average- though it often fluctuates depending on the day. Usually Wilson’s not too proud of the things he accomplishes, he just gets them done and sees them as completed tasks he was supposed to do. On his bad days, his confidence tanks as his self-doubt rises.

VULNERABILITIES. While he is physically tough as nails, Wilson is still very vulnerable psychologically. He experiences nightmares and insomnia from his PTSD, his depression often renders him lethargic and unable to move for days, his hypervigilance makes it difficult to concentrate or relax, and his obsessive compulsions often manifest themselves into delusions where he’ll overwork or just straight up disappear for periods of time. The man struggles with himself, and Boris doesn’t make it any easier.

#‘’ doesn’t seem like the best time for this ‘’ // tagged #talesofives #‘’ so good to see a kind face again ‘’ // mutual #‘’ some things are best left forgotten ‘’ // about wilson

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redjaybathood · 5 years

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So, what I’m going to need from season 2 of Titans, is the bird-themed superhero team-up: Hawk, Dove and Robin.

1) they all birds, it’s appropriate, alright?

2) they actually could have a lot in common.

It’s heavily implied in the comics that Jason was a victim of CSA, maybe underage prostitution, too. And he certainly dealt with abuse against him and his mother from his father, like Dawn. And we saw the child-like enthusiasm Hank and Don had when they were taping their first attempt at vigilantism, it mirrors the emotions Jason displayed talking about it with Dick.

Also, maybe Jason would remind Hank of his brother (maybe Don didn’t like trouble, per se, but boy did he had a temper) or Dawn of her sister (Dawn’s sister was acting out in her younger years, shoplifting). And in turn, well. Dawn and Hank’s relationships are not great right now? Hank is insecure and jealous, Dawn doubts herself and tired of Hank’s attitude. They kinda need someone to focus on and not get in each other business all the time. Having a third person around could help.

Also, with all Hank’s mental problems, he still doesn’t feel as brutal in a fight as Jason. Yes, even if he’s probably killed the coach. Because his anger-fueled rage is all emotional. Jason, when he fights, still looks pretty much rational. He knows what he’s doing, even if he doesn’t have a clue what the fuck is he doing, you know what I mean?

So, one look at him, and it’s a good wake-up call for Hank. More than Dick was. Because, boy, does that kid needs help or what. You don’t want to end up like him, Hank.

#jason todd #robin #hank hall #hawk #dawn granger #dove #titans #send me any probable team names for those three #because i haven't the slightest idea

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bioticgoddess · 6 years

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Songbirds and Baby Bats (I)

Series Summary: Jason Todd returns from the dead and, after the events of Under the Red Hood,he goes from Gotham to Bludhaven in search of himself...and an old friend. But getting your life back is never easy and Black Mask has enlisted the aid of Gotham’s other Crime Families as well as a few ghosts of Batman’s past. He’s coming for the Red Hood and everyone of his allies.

I may have saved a bunch of the pictures for the Red Hood Fan Series from https://cd828studios.wixsite.com/redhood ‘s website. Expect more of these as covers for my Red Hood stuff. --- Part I:

Nightwing regarded the two men, unconscious and propped up against one another on the rooftop, “Did you really have to dial up the voltage on those things?”

“Oy, at least it’s not so bad as those gloves Electrocutioner wears,” Wren snipped at him, clicking the tasers in her gloves off. She knelt beside one of the men, they were both wearing Joker’s colors. “Since when did this prick leave Gotham,” she asked, changing subject and tossing the clown’s card, extricated from the breast pocket of the man closest to her, across to Nightwing.

Her partner caught it before the heavy sharpened steel playing card struck him. “Don’t get any ideas little bird,” he cautioned, turning the Joker card over in his hands. “I got a bad feeling about this.” Joker didn’t usually stray outside Gotham, except for the occasional trip to Metropolis- but that was usually tied to something he already had in the works elsewhere. Hell, anything that pulled the psychotic clown from his home had something to do with Gotham. Or Batman – at the very least it was tied to their former mentor.

“Where he’s concerned it’s always bad,” she added, using a couple sets of flex cuffs to secure the unconscious men’s wrists. For added measure she overlapped their cuffs so they couldn't wander off independent of one another. Unbidden, the image of Jason Todd’s bloody body flashed in her mind. Squeezing her eyes closed like she was fighting some kind of pain, Wren muttered, “Always.”

Nightwing rested a hand on her shoulder. He knew her well enough to know what that hesitation meant. “You should go see him – Jason, I mean.” What he meant was Jason’s grave at Wayne Manor, not the actual boy. “Take a few days,” he continued, waving his free hand nonchalantly as he talked, “I’ll do the leg work on this one.”

Since his successor’s death, five years prior, Nightwing Dick Grayson had tried his best to keep the young woman away from anything involving Joker. Kept her far from Gotham, and away from Bruce, for good measure. In the wake of Jason’s death all of them had kept out of Bruce and Joker’s gravity.

“No,” she countered, shrugging off his hand as she stood, “I mean. I’ll go see Jason, but I’m not staying out of this case. Whatever that basterd’s up to, it’s in our city Grayson.” Sighing heavily, she added, “Besides, he’d want me to do what he can’t.” Wren was far away from the skyscraper’s roof when she talked about Jason, he knew why almost better than anyone. After what Joker had done to Barbara a year or so earlier, he had a better understanding of the grief she felt over Jason’s death. Thankfully, the former Batgirl had survived.

Their moment of contemplation was shattered.

“Well aren’t you two cute,” an augmented voice mocked, followed by a warning shot fired through the space between the pair. On instinct, the former sidekicks dove for cover. The industrial HVAC machines and protruding vents providing temporary shielding from whoever had fired at them. “How close you’ve become over the years,” he chuckled mockingly, “Almost makes me sick.”

Wren turned the charges back on in her gloves, one hand coming to rest on one of the batons strapped to her thigh. “Bloody wonderful,” she murmured.

Nightwing taunted back, making a series of hand motions to Wren from his hiding place, “Family thing, you wouldn’t get it.” He went high, she went low. Popping up like a jack-in-the box, he threw his bird shaped shuriken at the man. Simultaneously, Wren moved outside and close to the roof, flanking their attacker.

A series of shots rang out, shattering the flying blades.

Taking a deep breath, Wren wheeled out from behind an HVAC unit to the left of their assailant. Using the machine as leverage, she landed with one hand planted firmly on the man’s shoulder. The electric charge that should have stunned him at least partially absorbed in his body armor and dark-brown leather jacket.

He grunted and doubled over momentarily. Despite the obviously cramped and convulsing muscles in his body, he brought back an elbow that caught Wren hard in the solar plexus. She gasped as he growled at her from behind his red helmet, “Stay out of this.” A second later he charged towards Nightwing. His long strides and intensity matching the former Robin’s own.

“Bloody hell,” she sucked in a sharp breath, dropping to one knee. The boys grappled. It was like watching Dick and Tim spar. Their general moves and fighting styles eerily similar. This guy knew when to duck; when to block; even when it would be opportune to throw his own punches. What he didn’t notice, however, was Nightwing pushing him back towards Wren. The acrobat was taking ground from the gunslinger, inch by inch.

One cargo pantsed leg extend behind him. The attempt at bracing was within Wren’s reach. The light gravel on the rooftop slid and crunched under her feet as the Irish girl dove. Both hands clasped around his leg and the electrical charge in her gloves surging up through the outstretched limb. It brought him down to both knees, groaning and cursing in sharp hisses between what sounded like clenched teeth.

The charge fully released, she scrambled to her feet. “Fuck! Irish gimme a break,” the man barked behind his crimson helmet. The nickname...his nickname froze her in her tracks.

Even Nightwing stopped.

Only one person had ever called her that. Only one person could get away with it and he was five years dead. Buried. Wren flushed, reaching out the grab the side of one of the tall metal vents. One word was all it had taken and it felt like gravity had been turned off in her world.

“Can’t be,” Nightwing whispered, his defensive stance relaxing as he visibly had the same thought she did. That heartbeat was when he got a good look at the guy. He was taller, broader in the shoulders, and just..bigger...than Dick. His outfit: the dark brown leather jacket, the black cargo pants tucked into heavy matching combat boots, and the black armor (not unlike his own) - made him twice as imposing as either Nightwing or Wren. The focal point, a red bat-symbol emblazoned across chest felt like an insult. It was salt in a wound Dick didn’t know he had.

Half a dozen glib comments shot through the acrobat’s head, pushed to the side by reflex and tactical calculus as the other man came at him again. This time he had a knife. Escrima sticks or not, he was good enough to get in under Dick’s defenses. Slashing at and grazing the armor. God bless that Wayne Tech titanium-tri weave that made up their combat suits.

The startled shout that came from Nightwing snapped Wren back to her senses. Without thinking, as she was prone to, the Irish girl picked herself. Pushing off the metal vent she shot forward. Arms locking around the man’s midsection. Forward momentum sent them off balance and forced him to his knees then face first into the roof. The knife clattering across the asphalt and gravel.

Training kicked in before her shoulder ground into the roof and Wren rolled forward twice more. She spun around on one knee to face him.

Winded he pushed himself up off his stomach, “Well this wasn’t my smartest plan.” Face pointed at the roof, he missed Nightwing yanking Wren behind cover. Voice lowered he grumbled, “Well, you did have a few extra years of his training big bird.”

A knot formed in Wren’s stomach. This was a gamble that could land her with a bullet through her head. But it was a gamble she had to take. Popping around and into the open before Nightwing could react found her with one of the firearms pointed directly at her chest. “Jason, stop,” her voice was low, heart hammering almost in her ears.

“Wren, what are you doing,” Nightwing demanded, still tucked behind the HVAC unit, his shuriken ready to fly if this gambit of hers failed.

She acknowledged her partner’s comment with a wave of her hand – silencing him as well. “It’s you isn’t it,” nearly tripping over her words as she went, brow furrowed behind her domino mask, “I don’t know how, but it’s you.” The man she presumed to be Jason stood steadfast, a kill shot still trained on Wren. Then, when she was convinced he’d shoot her, he pulled his arm back, clicking the safety in place with his thumb. His index finger slipping off the trigger and to the guard.

Holstering the weapon he chuckled behind the red helmet. It was becoming a theme. “Jason,” she called his name again, reaching out reflexively. Palm pressed against his chest, just over the bat symbol; he stepped back. The entire exchange was uncomfortable, enough that none of them moved.

The man laughed, a heavy nervous belly laugh and reached up to his helmet. At least someone thought this whole situation was hilarious. The wind picked up and whipped around them on the roof. Pulling the helmet clear of his head, the man praised Wren, “Clever little bird.” The joy was sucked out of his face and voice as quickly as it appeared. Looking over to the pair he snapped derisively, “I see you two got on just fine without me.” It was sharp, angry.

“Jason,” Wren’s Hail Mary had paid off. “What the bloody hell are you on about?” The Irish was coming out in her voice as emotion peaked. Relieved...no,elated as she was to see him. If he was going to accuse her of anything other than breathing then she might clock him. Besides, if anyone was going to get an ass chewing tonight it was him - for being alive and not telling her. For picking a fight with and using what looked like lethal, even if it was half-assed, force against she and Dick. Arm falling to her side, she balled both of her hands into fists.

It was Nightwing who answered the charge laid against them, “Fine? You think we were fine without you?” The outrage in his voice startling Jason more than anything. His eyes went wide behind the red domino mask he’d worn under his helmet. “Hah! I lost a brother and she – you’re fucking blind if you think she was fine.” The eldest of Bruce’s adoptive sons was practically seething.

Wren was too busy wrestling with the contrary urges to wrap her arms around or beat the crap out of Jason to bother interrupting or correcting Dick.

Looking between them, Jason snapped, “So why’s the clown alive? Why are you both in Bludhaven!” Neither of them answered. “That’s what I thought,” he snapped again. Jason clenched his jaw, obviously ready to attack again.

Wren - Amy - spoke fist. Hesitant, like she was unsure of the words coming out of her mouth or if she should even share the information with him. “Bruce nearly kill him. We still don’t know why he didn’t. Maybe he realized revenge wouldn’t bring you back. Til now we’ve all believed you gone, buried.” Her eyes were on Jason’s boots. Chewing her lip for a moment, Amy continued, “Losing you about killed me. If Dick hadn’t offered me a place in Bludhaven, it might well have. Gotham’s...a good place to get yourself killed on vengeance.”

That sent the color from Jason’s face. He reached out, arm stopping half way between himself and Amy. “Dick, go,” Jason requested, eyes flitting over to his adoptive brother. “Sounds like you took care of her, so I owe you.”

When he didn’t move, Wren turned around and nodded to him. She mouthed “I’ll be fine”. Unwilling to leave but not with much of a choice, unless he wanted to continue fighting with Jason and his guns, Dick sighed. Walking past them he patted a hand on Jason’s shoulder, squeezing it in an attempt to be the overprotective sibling, “Don’t you dare hurt her.”

“You know I won’t,” Jason’s face and eyes softened briefly.

Exasperatedly, Nightwing walked off past the two Joker Gang members they’d dealt with earlier. Both were blissfully unconscious, a small blessing considering how they’d thrown each other’s real names around. Casting a final look over his shoulder at the pair, Nightwing disappeared over the edge of the rooftop.

The second he heard the scraping of boots against the roof’s edge and the soft explosion of grappling gun propellant, Jason wrapped his arms tightly around Wren’s waist – dropping his helmet to the rooftop. Her own arms encircled his wais. Eyes squeezed closed, he buried his face in her hair. It had been too long and he felt that lost time constrict his chest.

“Let’s go somewhere else,” she suggested, his smell of leather and gunpowder strangely comforting in the moment. She’d all but forgotten about the two unconscious men she and Nightwing had apprehended.

Jason nodded, brushing some stray hairs back into her braid before stepping back and collecting his helmet. Inhaling deeply, Wren tapped out an alert via her communication gauntlet for the Bludhaven police. “You’ll need to explain all that,” She pointed at the helmet and red bat symbol on his combat suit, starting towards the opposite corner of the roof.

He spun on his heel and putting an arm around her shoulders fell in lockstep with the girl. The wail of sirens coming ever closer. “This,” he said, “You know anyone who’s earned it more than me?” It was a rhetorical question, the smirk and wink he flashed made that much clear.

Rolling her eyes, Amy shot him another exhausted look before shooting her grappling hook to the next building over. Jason was still the same smartass she remembered. The cable went taught before the mechanisms in the grappling gun yanked her through the air. The air rushing past her, past them both, was freedom. As they continued across roofs, deploying and re-deploying their grappling guns, Jason called behind her, “I’ll explain when we get wherever you’re leading,” there was a smile in his voice. He sounded...relaxed. Or relieved? She wasn’t sure which and neither was Jason.

Inevitably, they came to the roof of her condominium complex. The balcony of Amy’s top floor unit like beacon of hope below their feet, which dangled from the top of the roof’s overhang. The pair straddled the barrier, facing one another. Jason’s helmet sat between his legs, his dark hair cropped shorter than she remembered. He sighed heavily, voice echoing the exhaustion drawing at his face. Looking down at the red metal and plastic egg of a helmet he asked, “What happened after I…died.”

The question hung in the air. Amy pursed her lips, reaching up to peel off her domino mask. It took a fair portion of the eye-black and adhesive with it. Anxiously she ran her thumbs back and forth along the stick back of the mask.

“The abridge version,” Her words were carefully measured. “We buried you. Or, at least thought we buried you. Far as any of us knew, you were in that coffin. Um...because of what happened, Bruce didn’t request an autopsy. It was closed casket. Your obituary read you died in a hit and run. I cried for a week, or at least until it hurt to cry. Dick...um...he caught me trying to go after Joker on my own and dragged me back to the Manor. Made me the offer to come to Bludhaven. I think I knew that killing Joker wouldn’t make anything better, even if it could’ve brought you back. So here we are, five years later.” She nodded rhythmically to herself as she finished the account.

He snorted, shaking his head, “Well, that lines up with the conversation I had with Bruce and Alfred.”

Brow furrowed at him, head cocked to the side quizzically, Amy invited, “Your turn then?”

Swinging his legs over the edge of the roof, Jason sighed, “You’ll want to be comfortable. It’s…complicated…” A second later he dropped the half dozen feet down to her balcony. Really he just didn’t want her to attack him when he relayed the account of what had transpired in Gotham. It was apparent that at least she hadn’t spoken with Bruce or Alfred. If Dick knew, he’d let nothing on during their brief conversation on the roof across town. He caught the handle of sliding door as Amy dropped behind him onto the balcony. He was almost relieved that she left her balcony door unlocked. After all, what were the odds a normal person would bother climbing up to the fifteenth floor of a high-rise building to break in.

They slipped inside and he took a look around what Amy called home. A table littered with pieces of electronics and other tools of the vigilante trade lined the wall of what was likely meant to be a dinning area. A big couch sat just off-center in the main portion of the room, facing a television. Save for her work area, the only place that looked used was the kitchen. Of course it did, Amy had always had a habit of disappearing into the one at Wayne Manor when she was stressed. Innumerable kitchen injuries aside, it always yielded something edible. He smiled at the amalgam of memory and slid out of his jacket.

“Here,” she patted the back of a dining room chair, her utility belt and gloves slung over the back of one beside it. “I’ll make some tea, you get comfortable.” It was an order more than anything, one he was pleased to follow.

Sighing he sank into the couch and started reaching for his boots. Only stopping when he touched the laces and heard her Amy click on the electric kettle. His brain, survival instincts, and slight paranoia from the five years that had passed crashing over him like a wave. They weren’t the same people, they’d been before. Not by a long shot. Releasing the still-tied laces of his combat boots Jason sat up straight again. He wasn’t shutting down but he was suddenly uncomfortable and fought to keep it hidden. That intimacy from earlier feeling far away and out of reach. “Do you still take it with honey and lemon,” she called, making him jump. “Jay?”

“Yes and don’t worry about it,” he tried not to sound as tense as he suddenly found himself. When Amy finally sat on the sofa beside him, Jason sighed heavily. The mug of tea he took from her was warm in his hands. Focusing on that, he looked at her out of the corner of his eye, his own red domino mask still on, “Ra’s pulled me out of that coffin before it ended up in Bruce’s hands. You said it was closed casket?” She nodded, re-confirming the account. “Well, I took a swim – so to speak – in a Lazarus Pit and here I am. Took a while to get my head on straight, to get back to the States. I actually had Gotham Crime down for a while there,” that got Amy’s attention and she set her cup down, sitting square to Jason. “Yea…I got Black Mask’s men to flip on him. They stopped dealing to kids, it was working. I was doing what Batman didn’t, wouldn’t! Almost killed the Joker while I was at it,” he said hurriedly, shaking his head and staring down into the citrusy green tea, “Got a building dropped on me in the process. Y’know, my usual shit.”

All of the emotions she’d held in check the last several years finally boiled over thanks to his nonchalance. She snapped, “What the bloody hell Jason! You’ve been alive this whole fecking time! Instead of coming to me or Dick or ALFRED you went off and..and..started in on Bruce and bloody well about got yourself killed again! AGAIN!” Overwhelmed was an understatement. Tears had welled up, spotting the corners of her eyes and running open streams through what remained of the eye black. “You fecking ass!”

Jason leaned back warily, setting the cup down on her coffee table as his back hit the arm of the couch. Being as nonchalant as he had was a poor choice. He should’ve known better. She’d leaned forward slightly with the weight of it all and let out a frustrated cry. “You’re cute when you’re angry,” He teased gently, hoping it wouldn’t blow up in his face.

His hands found their way to her biceps. “Ass,” she grumbled, fighting the urge to collapse forward into him.

“I’m sorry Irish,” he swallowed, hard. “I’m sorry.”

---

Footnotes: For the purposes of this story, the ages of the Robins and the OC are as follows -- Jason and Amy are 22; Dick is 25; Tim is 16.

Apologies for any spelling or grammar errors I missed.

#jason todd #red hood #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd x oc #red hood x oc #dc comics imagines #dc imagines #nightwing #batman imagine #jason todd imagine #red hood imagine

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oncecaitlinsmith · 4 years

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Themes shown in Classic Literature

After reading the extract on Jason and Medea from The Voyage of Argo, I decided to explore some other classic literature from around the world to see what they have in common and if the themes of Greek literature (tragedy and comedy) align with the themes of international classic literatures. The main themes I found prominent in the Argonautica were tragedy but also with some romance shown, especially between Jason and Medea.

The Odyssey is likely the most famous piece of Greek literature, following the voyage of Odysseus the war hero as he battles against the gods and creatures of the Aegean sea. Written by Homer in 675-725 bce, the epic was likely the inspiration for the Argonautica and heavily featured tragic themes as Odysseus suffered incident after incident, however it also showed romantic sub themes as Odysseus’ wife drove him to return home.

“Homer, author of the Odyssey”

Dante’s Inferno was written by Dante Alighieri, a Christian Italian man who wrote the poem in the 14th century, themed as a divine comedy which he used to insult his political enemies and reaffirm his believes. The story tells the tale of Dante himself as he is granted access to the three realms of the afterlife, Hell, Purgatory and Heaven. As he passes through the 7 rings of hell he sees many of his enemies being punished in hell and led by the poet Virgil, taken on the journey to put him back on the path of Christianity and showed what path would wait for him if he strayed. Dante Alighieri believed he had truly gone on this journey and at the time his vivid imagery won over lots of believers.

Although the original author of Sindbad the Sailor is unknown, the first appearance of the now famous character was in the 17th century in 1001 Arabian Nights, a large collection of stories. He was first introduced in “Sindbad the Porter and Sindbad the Sailor” where we are briefly introduced the adventurous young sailor. After the introduction we travel along side him through 7 short stories, each a new adventure. The stories take many themes and ideas from myths and legends such as cannibalistic giants similarly to the cyclops in the Odyssey and huge predatory birds named Rocs from middle eastern mythology. The themes are mainly adventure and tragedy as Sindbad commonly ends up ship wrecked.

Overall many classic pieces of literature contain similar themes, mainly tragedy and comedy, almost always accompanied by romantic sections throughout. I quite enjoy researching classic literature as they often hold interesting subjects and ideas that inspire many of my personal works.

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dickie-gayson · 6 years

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CHAPTER 4: COUNTING BODIES LIKE SHEEP

Summary:

Characters: Dick Grayson, Jason Todd

Genre: Horror

Length: 4k+

Other: Arkham Knight!Jason, Talon!Dick. this is The Worst Chapter - the Remix

Find It On: Ao3 Fanfiction

Counting Bodies Like Sheep

"I was hung from a tree made of tongues of the weak The branches, the bones of the liars, the thieves Rise up above it, high up above and see One night of the hunter, one day I will get revenge"

Jason's heart thumped an almost painfully quick pace in his chest as he lay on the dusty floor. He stared wide-eyed and unseeing at the ceiling as if it held the answers to his problems. Talon hovered over him, looking far too much like a leopard waiting to feast for Jason's liking. Still, he did not move. The weight of his predicament and new revelations seemed to keep him tied down and helpless. He certainly felt helpless. The assassin watched with a morbid sort of fascination as the resignation killed what little light had sparked in Jason's eyes.

With no warning, Talon rose on graceful feet and turned from the downed man. It was clear he viewed Jason as no threat just in the relaxed way he moved. There was no line of tension drawing up his shoulders. No hint of wariness in his posture. It was equal parts humiliating and irritating to be thought so little of. Jason watched the killer's soft steps closely, still on edge from the earlier assault. Every shift set his teeth on edge. Talon was unpredictable with his temper, making him a troubling foe.

He seemed to stop before a spot of blank, peeling wall just out of Jason's view and stare. It seemed to be a recurring theme with the new Dick Grayson. He stared far more than before and it was downright creepy. There was something he couldn't quite place in those gleaming eyes that made him want to crawl out of his skin. Jason saw pure evil, was face-to-face with it on a daily basis for a year, yet this was something completely different. It left the astringent taste of fear lingering like bile on his tongue. It kept his pulse pounding despite his best efforts to keep it calm. Yes, there was something completely different about this thing and all the demons Jason faced in his life.

Cautiously, he rose to his feet. His efforts to mask his movements were rendered useless as Talon heard him. The slight cocking of his head in Jason's direction was a dead giveaway of that. He had to resist the intense urge to try and brutalize the assassin who faced away from him. It wouldn't end well, he knew that much. The small amount of satisfaction he'd gain from landing a few hits wouldn't outweigh whatever the repercussions would be. Personally, Jason would prefer to be stabbed but Talon seemed to have a fondness for causing mental and emotional wounds. That was something he had no desire to endure at all.

Jason noticed that the only exit that wasn't boarded over was right beside Talon. Of course. He doubted that was a coincidence. Sure, he could try to make a break for it but he highly doubted he'd make it out before being dragged back in. To make matters worse, Jason was still missing his arsenal of weapons and tools that had been stripped of him while unconscious. He flexed his hands, sorely wishing for a gun or something to defend himself with, no matter how useless. This feeling of being totally exposed and helpless was something Jason absolutely loathed. No matter what he's gone through, the horrors he's triumphed and training he went through, he was still the victim. It was driving the man completely insane.

There was a fury in his steely gaze that he was positive Dick could feel. If looks could kill, his captor would most assuredly be nothing but ashes from the glare penetrating his back. It was with a certain degree of reluctance that Jason turned that angered glare from the black-clad man to sweep over the room in a more meticulous examination. Letting the crazed killer out of his sight wasn't something he was particularly keen on doing. However, he needed to find his gear and he couldn't exactly do that while trying to burn a hole through the back of the other man's skull.

Now that he wasn't panicking he was able to take note of a few more key details. All the windows but one had been boarded up, the lighting was purposefully dim to the point of near blackness, and there was an array of vicious looking blades of many forms lining the tops of boxes near Talon's little nest. What had appeared to be brown blankets were in reality white blankets completely covered in stains. It didn't take the world's greatest detective to guess where those brownish stains came from. The thought of just how many bodies it took to get that much residual blood was baffling. The analytical side of him was legitimately curious just how many DNA samples he could get from one swipe across the cloth.

He spotted his weapons and belt sitting out in the open on a weathered desk near Talon. Jason was mentally weighing whether or not he really needed those items or if he should take his chances. It was a short-lived thought, as he knew Talon had very purposefully placed them where he could see but not quite reach without getting near the assassin. All these false little windows of opportunity only added to Jason's growing resentment. That asshole was toying with him to see if he'd fall for those traps. Jason clenched his jaw in frustration as he swiped his now scratched helmet from the floor. Just as he was about to slide it back on, Talon's quiet voice cut through the air.

"Don't."

Jason paused, helm above his head, and stared at the assassin. Then, he took notice of the piercing yellow eyes in the dim reflection of a mirror so grimy it could almost pass as part of the wall. Had it not been for the tell-tale golden glow he wouldn't have even noticed that Talon was watching him. He'd been watching this whole time. Jason locked eyes through the dirtied reflection and gave a defiant sneer before forcefully putting the helmet on. All systems blinked on as the suit reconnected with its missing piece. There was a somewhat entertained look on the killer's otherwise blank features.

"Robins never were very good at following orders."

That made Jason's lips twist in an irritated scowl. He hated that Dick kept bringing it back to that. Robin. The argument 'I'm not Robin' sat heavy on his tongue, waiting to come out again. It was useless. To this bastard he'd always be Robin. Once a bird, always a bird. Jason could almost swear that the carved R on his chest was mocking him. He stomped heavily toward Talon, who still faced the wall but tracked him through the mirror. Jason wasn't quite sure whether he was drawing closer to punch the frustrating man, to grab his gear, or just try to jump out the window. Perhaps a daring combination of all three, though not quite in that order.

He came to a slow halt as his eyes landed on the section of wall Talon was covering. All thoughts of escape and his supplies left his head. Carved crudely into the wood was a long list of names; some were already scratched out. Jason read the list and recognized quite a few, if not only from word of mouth. He knew what this list was but the thought that Dick made a hit list, no matter how demonic he's become, was almost unfathomable. It just didn't quite connect. He found himself questioning it without thinking.

"What the hell is this?"

He mentally facepalmed for asking the stupidly obvious. Truthfully, he half expected to hear a witty 'my shopping list, obviously' or something equally dumb. Instead, that ravenous stare was back on him full-blast. There was no response at first, just an uncomfortable silence. Then, Dick spoke in that unsettling arctic whisper.

"The damned."

Had it been the old times, when Dick was still Nightwing and Jason was Robin, Jason would have snarked back about Bruce's melodramatics rubbing off on the older boy. But these weren't the old times and those soft words left his gut churning. It wasn't what he said but how he said it that got under Jason's skin. There was such unmistakable malignance in his tone that even Batman would be chilled to the core. Rather than linger on the discomfort, he kept reading the list. There was one break in the names, a section that looked like it'd been hacked at. There was no hope of reading what name had been there. The curiosity ate at Jason, but he continued on. It was a varied list, going from super villains to people Jason would have marked as average Joes. His eyebrows rose once he hit one name in particular.

"Slade Wilson. You're gonna try to kill Deathstroke?"

That unsettling stare turned sharp, nearly vicious, at the surprise in Jason's voice. He almost backtracked from that look alone.

"He wronged me. I will kill him."

Jason let out a low whistle at the sheer level of spite in his words. He knew all about the feud between his brother and the super-assassin. Who didn't? The fights between the two, particularly when Dick had been Robin, were something of legends among teen heroes. Now that Dick was turned into this, he almost pitied Slade. Almost. Whatever Hell he brought upon himself was completely deserved. As his eyes swept back to the list, he couldn't help but wonder just what the rest had done to deserve it as well. 'Catalina Flores, where have I heard that name before?'

"If this is everyone that wronged you, I gotta say I'm surprised the list ain't bigger."

Making enemies in their line of work, well, previous line of work was laughably easy. What hero didn't have their scars? It was meant as a joke, but the look he got in return made the light tone wither on his lips.

"It was."

Talon pushed a box that was sitting on a table. Jason's gaze fell onto the now exposed portion of the wall and that sickening feeling returned. Names lined the paneling, all scratched out. Many were from Gotham's elite that Jason never bothered to look into. He hardly pegged them as criminals. Then there were others; Elaine Marsh-Morton - otherwise known as Lady Vic or Lady Victim, and Tom and Tad Trigger - The Trigger Twins, Dudley Soames, Shrike, Guillermo Barrera, Randy Hanrahan, Giz, Mouse. All noted criminals and assassins. All crossed out. The list of scratched out names went on and on. It flooded to the next panel and ended at the next target: Harvey Dent. It wasn't too surprising, given how the madman had tortured Dick when he was Robin.

He was impressed by the body count Talon was able to rack up without drawing attention to himself. Hell, Jason was part of the underground scene and he never heard so much as a whisper of someone murdering others left and right. Sure, he heard word that some of the more notable people, like Lady Vic, were dead but nothing else on the topic. No one ever connected them together. To find out it was all Dick fucking Grayson that killed them? He's pretty sure his brain shorted out for a few moments trying to process it.

"I almost added you."

Jason had to force himself not to jump at the unexpected words. While he'd been focused on piecing everything together, Talon had slipped uncomfortably close. He was all but looming at this point. If Jason's armor didn't cover him so completely, he's pretty sure he'd be able to feel Talon's breath on his neck. Then, what Talon said caught up with him. He resisted the urge to step away from the eerie assassin. Dick seemed to notice this hesitation and spoke again.

"But I don't want you dead."

There was an unspoken 'yet' at the end of his sentence, Jason could feel it. He couldn't decide whether those words were meant to be comforting or a warning.

"Y'know, that's not as reassuring as a 'But I couldn't kill you'."

Again, it was meant as a joke, and again that look was all too serious. No matter how familiar the voice, he had to remember this wasn't the man he knew. It was a monster, as was evident by the cold stare he got in return. The silence that greeted his words was all he needed to know. This...this shadow of Dick Grayson could kill him and not feel an ounce of remorse. Jason promptly ignored all the reasons that hurt. He could still feel that heartless gaze on him as he returned to staring at the list. There were names Jason expected to see but didn't. In fact, it infuriated him just a bit that a certain name wasn't on his brother's list.

"I don't see Joker here."

There was no hiding the ire in his words. All these names and Joker - fucking Joker - wasn't deemed worthy of Talon's time. It pissed him off more than just a little bit. His fists clenched tight as he tried to reign in his temper; his hurt. There was another beat of silence before Talon spoke.

"Not mine to kill, not mine to add."

He then pointed at the section of wall that looked like it'd been hacked at. It was clear now that it had been Joker's name on the wall. Any response Jason had came to a halt as he was presented with a wicked looking knife. He got a pointed look from the assassin, making his intentions very clear. It was to be Jason's vengeance and so Jason should carve his name. He stared at the blade in surprise while Talon continued on.

"I was going to torture him. Drag out every last inch of his life then slaughter him like the swine he is. ...Then, I found out you still lived."

That rage fizzled out under the confusing assortment of bewilderment and, as much as he'd deny it, happiness. Despite the frigid, impersonal tone and former treatment, Jason couldn't help but be a little pleased someone was going to avenge him. He didn't doubt the assassin's words in the slightest. Given his possessiveness up until this point, it'd align just right for him to seek out the one who killed 'his Little Wing'. Jason took the blade and traced his free hand over a blank spot on the wall. He let out a slow breath then dug the dagger in. Each stroke of the blade was slow and deliberate. A bit of hate flowed into every line. As that hate and anger mounted, the gouges grew deeper. When the name was complete, it was cut further into the wood than any other. He had to yank out the blade at the end of the 'R'.

Teal eyes glared at the name and the dagger trembled in his grip. This must be why Dick chose to carve the names rather than write them down. It was much more intimate; made one really remember why they were on the list. In a spur of rage, Jason sliced yet another name into the wall beneath Joker. He could remember her high pitched laughter and nasally voice just as well as the Jokers. She was as guilty as him and she'd pay. 'HARLEY QUINN'. He grit his teeth as he glared at the names. His fury was evident in the growing choppiness of the lettering. It was less meticulous in style and fueled by his emotions. The memories dredged up brought with them the familiar heat of wrath and hate. It caused him to quake from the sudden onslaught. He all but snarled as he slammed the dagger back into the wood, carving even more names. Everyone that hurt him would feel his pain tenfold.

All the while, Talon watched silently. He was curious as to who would be sentenced to death by his little brother next. There were names he didn't recognize and names he did, like Sal Maroni. The list was not nearly as extensive as his own, but the sheer resentment that went into each stroke and letter could almost even the gap. As reluctant as Jason had been to cooperate in the beginning, Talon knew they could work well together on this. They would.

Jason took a step back from the wall and let out a low breath. The animosity still poisoned his veins, but he felt a little lighter marking those names down. It'd feel even better once those names had lines through them, he just knew it. It would calm some of his inner demons to rid the world of those scum. With Talon's help, he knew they'd all fall. So, why did it feel like he just made a pact with the Devil?

There was still one name he's yet to mark down. It would have been two, but he doubted Talon would appreciate his attempts to add Tim Drake to the list of the damned. That thought made his temper flare just a bit more. Having to spare his replacement just because Dick was obscenely possessive sent spikes of frustration through his nerves. He ground his teeth and gripped the handle of the dagger a little firmer. Then, he started to add that last name, the hardest one to write. The one that he would have given his life for and almost had. The one that failed him. Bruce Wayne. Jason didn't get further than 'BRUCE' before his forearm was caught in an unforgiving grip.

"No."

He looked at Talon with something akin to betrayal at being stopped. Tim he could understand. He didn't like it, but he understood. Bruce though?

"What the hell, Dick? After everything that's happened to us you're just going to let him go?! He deserves to be on this damn list! He needs to pay for his failures!"

The words were spat out with such venom, it was nearly enough to hide the pain that lingered under the surface. The slight crack in his tone near the end didn't help his situation. There was still no reaction to his torment or anger. Then, Dick calmly moved his hand to cover Jason's own hold on the hilt.

"Death isn't justice. It isn't vengeance. It's solace. Justice and vengeance? They come before death."

The way he spoke, so soft yet so unbelievably vicious, caused a chill to run down Jason's spine. Then, he moved the dagger under both their command and began to carve a new name.

"You want Bruce to suffer? He will suffer."

'B'

"He will beg and plead for the children he forsook."

'A'

"He will be reminded how he failed. Every. Single. Day."

'T'

"We will face him but we will not offer forgiveness."

'M'

"We will break him but we will not offer solace."

'A'

"Death would be kind, Jason."

'N'

"I am not kind."

Jason stood enraptured by his voice, envisioning what he spoke of. There was a dark, damning promise to his words that filled the younger man with a sick sort of glee. Originally, he wanted to just end Bruce's life for leaving him in the caverns of Arkham but this? This would be so much better. The utter iciness of Talon's hate contrasted so wildly against the searing heat of Jason's own animosity. Combined, the two could surely bring ruin to anyone and anything in their path. The plan he had started shifting to accommodate the ideas now planted in his head. Jason spoke low and slow, voicing the thoughts as they formed.

"We kill the bat and leave the man."

Bruce is his real mask, not the cowl. To be left with only 'Brucie' would certainly be a hell of his own making. And to know it's all because of the sons he forgot and replaced? That would definitely destroy him. 'If he even cares at all.' The invasive thought couldn't help but crop up. Jason was still utterly convinced Bruce felt nothing for them other than their shelf life and how useful they could be. Being forced to live every single day seeing the weapons he cultivated turned against him would be so delicious. Yes, Jason could see the merit of Talon's plan on leaving him alive.

The assassin watched the thoughts rolling through his brother's head with interest. He gave a slight nod at Jason's words. It was what he intended on doing. Destroy the legend of Batman, leave nothing but ashes in their wake. It would torment their 'father'. He could hardly live without the cowl and cape. They would strip him down, hollow him out and leave him cold, just like he left them to be.

"He'll know the pain of being left with a face that isn't truly his."

Talon's tone was acrid in its loathing. The two looked at each other, taking note of the disfigurations that marred the other, making them almost strangers. Dick's distortions were far more severe, but Jason was marked so cruelly by his tormenter that he could hardly stomach his own reflection on good days. What happened to the two was tragic. What they planned to do to Bruce will be anathema. A cruel smirk curled up Jason's lips. The day of reckoning was drawing near and he couldn't wait to watch them all burn.

He was drawn from his musings by Dick taking his dagger back. Why he needed all those knives on him, Jason still didn't know. He was a living weapon with fucking claws. Then again, he liked to pack an excessive amount of weapons himself. Maybe it was a comfort to feel that much more protected. Though if he were being truthful, Talon gave off a vibe that it was just to have more ways to kill people. Really, he had no room to judge.

The assassin then handed Jason his equipment back. It was a bit of a shock but he quietly took the peace offering. At least, that's how Jason thought Talon was offering them to him. A sort of olive branch. He woke up here despising Talon and would leave here feeling something close to camaraderie with the killer. Those cold, cruel words still echoed in the back of his mind, warning him not to become complacent near Dick. 'By my name you lived, Little Wing. By my name, you'll die.'

Jason holstered his guns and clipped on his belt, feeling safer in his full Arkham Knight regalia. When Talon placed a guiding hand on his shoulder, it felt like the cold hand of death gripping him. He motioned toward the window and gave an almost feral look.

"The sun is setting. We have hunting to do."

He didn't miss the fact that Talon didn't ask if he wanted to hunt with him, but rather issued it like a command. Jason gave a sigh as he checked his comms and messages. His men were a bit frantic that he went missing, especially after receiving such a grotesque 'gift'. He radioed over to Bax to let the man know their commander was fine. Then, he turned his attention to the waiting assassin. Talon was perched on the window sill staring at him, owl mask firmly in place. His pose was almost achingly similar to how Dick used to perch at the edge of ledges, just on the balls of his feet and teetering dangerously. It was yet another reminder that no matter how heinously different he was now, there were still some Grayson mannerisms left in the man.

"I've got to get back to base. My men are freaking out since some people can't talk to others without kidnapping them."

He took a cautious step toward the window, testing the waters. Jason wasn't sure how this crueler version of Dick would take his disobedience. If Talon let him out, then that'd be great. It'd mean he wasn't as freakishly controlling as Jason was led to believe. If he didn't let him out? Well, there wasn't too much he could do about that but follow his previous orders, was there? He was mentally rooting for the former but expecting the latter. Talon gave that strange little head tilt and made no effort to move from the sill. Jason was forced to come to a halt before the assassin. A frustrated noise rumbled in his throat at the lack of cooperation from Dick.

"Seriously, I need to go. We can 'hunt' some other time. I have shit I need to do."

What was meant to be forceful came out a little closer to a plea than he would have liked. There was a beat of silence and neither moved. Then, Talon grabbed him by his armor and yanked him forward with more force than Jason was expecting. He was only just able to choke back the startled noise from slipping out as he steadied himself. In reflex, he grabbed for his weapons but didn't fully unholster them. No need to rile up the crazy undead killing machine after they just got on friendly-ish terms. Dick pulled him so close, their masks nearly touched. The vicious, almost ravenous edge to his voice had Jason swallowing in fear.

"Go. Settle your business. Look at the flash drive. After that, we will hunt."

There was no room left for argument in those selfish, hellish words. He found himself nodding in agreement with the terms. Jason could deal with a compromise. It was honestly more than he was expecting from Dick at this point. Talon shoved him away with the same amount of force, nearly causing Jason to trip over his own feet. Then, he leapt from the window with the same enviable grace that left all who saw in awe of the last of the Flying Graysons.

A shaky breath came from Jason as he attempted to calm his spiking nerves. This had not gone like he planned at all. After one last look around the room with a pause to re-read the names, Jason made his own escape. It was going to be a long night, that was for sure. He had to figure out what the hell to do about Scarecrow now that Talon threw himself into the mix. That could wait until the more immediate problems were addressed, though. There were men to sort out, orders to give, and, most importantly, a flash drive to examine.

#Me and the Devil Verse #Talon!Dick #Arkham Knight!Jason #The Arkham Knight #Jason Todd #Dick Grayson #My Writing #fuck me this is Bad #o well i tried ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

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whothefuckisdickgrayson · 7 years

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Secret Origins #13

It’s time for an origin establishment! While many books did continue where they left off (including New Teen Titans), a lot of fact dropping and origin retellings happened as a lot of changes were happening to characters due to the Crisis.

So things like ages and backstories were lampshaded heavily, and origins were retold to establish them in the new continuity.

This is the first of Dick’s origins in Post-Crisis, superseding any information we had from Pre-Crisis where a contradiction occurs. It will not be the last, but later ones are considered retcons, while this one is more accurately an establishment of his Post-Crisis origin. Parts of it will be retconned very soon in Batman during Jason Todd’s new origin.

We open with Dick and Joey, after Dick chases a flying alien monkey into the sky for metaphorical and symbolism reasons. This takes place on Dick’s 20th birthday, so back around New Teen Titans 18 or 19. Dick and Joey are good friends and Joey is super sweet, so Dick’s going to tell him his entire origin.

So, uh, apparently ages 0-4 are when nets are appropriate for small children and one you’re 5 you’re old enough to endanger your life. Good to know. Personally, I now understand why young Dick Grayson wasn’t at all weirded out by his new guardian Bruce Wayne chucking him in front of guns.

In his Post-Crisis origin, Dick is confirmed to have just turned 10 when his parents die. A later retcon might make him even older, but this is the original Post-Crisis establishment and I believe the youngest Dick can be said to have been in Post-Crisis. So if you’re taking notes for continuity and fic purposes, 10 is the youngest you can go.

Note that this origin lampshades Dick’s temper and rage, implying it started here and that Bruce’s intervention and the origin of Robin is an outlet for that kind of rage.

The Original Angry Bird - 3

Robin’s debut was just before he turned 11, giving him a solid number of months just in training. Note that at this point Robin is a name that Batman came up with, not Dick himself. One thing later retcons loved to do with Bruce and Dick was really break their relationship and make things bad between them, even though the softer version of their break is honestly perfectly understandable and natural.

Despite their similarities, Dick really doesn’t want to be just like Bruce

Apple Flew Away - 1

It’s a theme that Dick really doesn’t want to be like Bruce, and will get ridiculously defensive if his friends call him out for acting just like Bruce. He does at times deliberately do things because he’s trying not to become him. This tracker is for when attention is called to his attempts, no matter how successful or unsuccessful they end up being.

Follow the Leader - 3

Dick reaches the Titans, and from his retelling it’s apparent that Dick saw early on that being a leader and operating separately from Batman was something that fulfilled him. He values his friends and friendships a lot and even if we didn’t know that Dick was going to grow up and away from Bruce, we would suspect just from the way he talks about his time with them.

In this origin, Dick’s natural growth and independence is the reason that he and Bruce broke apart. Bruce’s expectations for Dick and the implications that Dick is his son and heir are very strong in the issue. 80s Batdad is also pretty strict and his reaction to Dick deciding that he wasn’t ready for college is, uh, pretty overbearing dad-like.

You’re underselling his reaction a little there, Dickie boy.

Dick basically says that he wasn’t ready for college, his focus was very much on Robin and because he didn’t need to get a degree and earn a living (Bruce has obviously set him up with money and Dick’s probably on his will as his heir at this point, lbr) he has no driving motivation to do it. Dick admits it freely himself, so it’s an interesting perspective on how growing up in Bruce’s household obviously impacted him. He recognizes that he’s fairly privileged and admits it freely. As someone who values his independence and freedom it’s given him the opportunity to do what he loves and remain untethered to things that would limit his freedom.

Flying Free - 1

As this is his first Post-Crisis origin, this tracker is to keep track of this strong theme and motivation where Dick places primary importance in his life on his independence and freedom, and actively resists being tethered down or someone attempting to override or decide things for him.

Dick lampshades that the Titans are his true calling. Working solo isn’t the be all and end all, it’s really working in a team environment. Dick is a natural leader and people person who gets fulfillment out of working with others, more than he ever would just running around solo. This is the basis of this character’s growth since Pre-Crisis and the popular flagship Titans runs. It’s is going to be an interesting contrast to see how later writers justify his relative isolation in his solo run in Bludhaven.

Anyway this is just very sweet and establishes Dick’s romance with Kory and the reason he’s in love with her, which has little to do with her stunning beauty and everything to do with how she lives life. I’m a little choked up. The New Teen Titans really did do a great romance between these two. Dick also hangs a lampshade once again on freedom, on a more metaphorical level, so this is also another example of:

Flying Free - 2

At this point Dick’s origin is a pretty standard re-telling of Pre-Crisis, with tweaks mostly to his age as opposed to actual events. Jason Todd’s origin is coming up very soon, where the Batwriters will slaughter Dick and Bruce’s relationship in the name of drama, as they apparently didn’t like the New Teen Titans’ version, which essentially boiled down to ‘Dick grew up’. Considering the mess that the Batwriters made, I wouldn’t consider their version an improvement.

#long post #dick grayson #New Teen Titans era #chronology reference: age #the original angry bird #apple flew away #follow the leader #flying free

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drgoddamndmt · 7 years

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new project

THE BACARDI FIVE-HUNDRED by TWP Outline CH 1: Tuesday Night; Chilling w/ the girls & some strange news. A frantic & fulfilling Race Home. CH 2: Thursday Night; Race to score liquor & drugs before pre-game ritual: Bonfire w/ friends. CH 3: Awkward Arrival of a Shorthaired White Girl; Painful dining experience @ Steak n’ Shake in the early AM. Then Home for final preparations. Yakira’s neediness preyed upon… Pack my bags & sleep on the couch… CH 4: Friday Morning Race to Bank & Store after waking up late; Get cleaned up & load the car. Smoke a bowl, have a shot, then hit the road, onto FL-417 North. CH 5: Party On the Road; Maps out, music blasting, blunts, & Bacardi from the canteen. Zach & I each eat one Adderall and two mushroom caps. Good times. Finally enter Daytona. Arrive early @ La Quinta Inn & now we wait. 21st Century Fox is fashionably late & every one wonders what James is doing here… CH 6: Check In & the Nightmare of Parking; Off on foot for quiet, awkward lunch. Weird scenes on the Boardwalk: Doomsday Preachers, hobo street performers, witches. @ Ocean Deck Bar & Grill, some bad vibes, & an acoustic revival. Then back to Hotel. CH 7: Git’ Down; Rolling blunts & mixing drinks, rushing off to ICE machine. Out on balcony, Race to catch the buzz before dusk. Down to pool & hot tub. Swirling whirlpool foursome in Jacuzzi. “Dead Cats, Dead Rats!” Josh takes Meghan to bed. Jackson, James, & Yakira help make sure she’s okay. Me & Zach stay downstairs. What now? Cocaine… CH 8: Neon & Noise; the remaining five of us roam on foot down Main St and Boardwalk theme park district. Go Karts. We race around, but not for very long. Me & Jackson eat some shrooms. Tilt-a-Whirl, then Sling-Shot, & finally photo booth. Singing drinking songs walking back. Waiting @ Domino’s for James’ food, me & her finally get to talk. Having a good time, glad you’re here. Back @ Hotel, more blunts on balcony before Ocelot wants food, TV & sleep. Jackson abides (?!?!?!) & now all beds are occupied. Still wired, what comes next..? CH 9: Night Alive; A messy exit, across street & down block to Yakira’s Corolla. Knew Jackson would snoop thru my bags, so I snuck out drugs & her present. @ Waffle House for another painful dining experience, and some horrible music. Paranoia, angst & hijacking the juke-box. Bad vibes. Madly laughing, “sympathy for the rooster…” Escape. CH 10: Race back to Hotel; Collect liquor & towels. Down to beach. Tequila, & The Black Angels on the dark shore. We split up… Naked run into ocean, cold swim. See something and return, witch going thru my belongings. She says hi. I say hi. In the distance, hear familiar voices & see lights of security carts. The witch was gone. Nervously dressed. Zach & Yakira return. Race back to Hotel… CH 11: Drunk Nostalgia on the Balcony; Three of us reflect on how much we’ve grown up & changed. Talk about the drugs we’ve done, the ones we haven’t & the ones we want to try. Eventually discuss sleeping arrangements & call it a night. Alone on the balcony, I reflect heavily on my journey w/ Jackson & what the future might hold. Heavy thoughts on a heavy night. Hear a party next door or downstairs but don’t care. Lay down w/ pillow & blanket, listening to laughter & sea birds… CH 12: Dreamlike Witch Encounter; Strange girl from beach woke me & invited me to party next door. Inside, there were 100 Corona bottles & a pound of ditch weed. Three other dudes, & the Witch. Balcony, shrooms, coke, weed, beer. Then we find ourselves talking about fulfilling our dreams, & the witch starts asking how willing/ determined we are… She started making strange promises in return for drugs & booze. I never gave her anything. Before dawn, I went over the rails & returned to my own balcony & slept. CH 13: Jackson’s Laughter Woke Me; Stood & saw her in hot tub, pale luscious & GD sexy… I saw James tho & calmed down. “Good morning, Crazy!” She laughed. Changed, grabbed stogies, and joined them. Got to sit alone w/ her half naked in day light hot tub. Shortly followed by Meghan & josh, only 2 minutes alone. I see the dudes from last night staring @ us from their balcony. They wave. I ignore. We all go upstairs to pack. Jackson tells me to clean up balcony, & trash talks. We stare each other down & watch each other’s hearts break. Alone, the dudes ask me what’s up w/ Jackson, & can they get w/ her. Dude, No. She’s my ex, & that’s her baby daddy. Leave her alone. Move cars, load up. Missing gift & key- card scene, was it the witch? EJ tells me don’t worry. Drive confusedly back to boardwalk theme park area. Get turnt & go out… CH 14: Johnny Rock n Roll’s Gift Shop on Main St; lots of amazing sights, beach stuff, Woodstock & Grateful Dead memorabilia. Biker chic, stoner chic, Veteran, Hippie, beatnik chic… Onto Boot Hill Cemetery, & a bad time taking photos, Jackson & James always bickering. Browse thru more gift shops, & I realize James is only here to buy Jackson anything she wants… CH 15: Boardwalk Gauntlet; Sling-shot, liquor, blunt roaches, & tilt a whirl. Philosophies of adrenaline junkies. Split up for taffies, Frisbees, kites & beer. Regroup on beach for full contact free throw Frisbee. Down to the ocean for a quick swim, & a tender moment w/ my woman. After her kite won’t fly, Meghan hears about the go kart track near by, & wants to check it out. CH 16: The Bacardi 500; We bribed some workers @ the track to let us all Race together. It would be three rounds, of five laps each. It was a brutal, unforgiving trial to weed out the worst drivers, & we were all drunk and stoned. Nearly an hour of high speed curving & passing, shit talking screaming, shouting, singing. Hearing anthems like L.A. Woman & Going the Distance in my head… There was no clear winner & the techs had no idea, so it was highly debated, but in the end, I didn’t care. CH 17: Last Look @ the Deep Blue Sea; Another round of drinks, Frisbee, & swimming before the rain clouds form. I finally tell her happy birthday. We head back to the cars… It was time to go. Jackson & her band had more places to stop & things to do before returning to Lake County. The three of us had to get back to Orlando while we still could… We said our good byes & hit the road. We followed her at first, until FL-400, then onto I-4, and finally, FL-417… CH 18: The Stormy Road Home; Still drinking & smoking, Yakira plays some music & suddenly they are venting, talking mad shit about Jackson, her attitude, the way she made everything a downer. I stood up for her but they chewed me out. Heavy music to cope w/ heavy thoughts. Silent breakdown. Finally Zach changes music & everything is better temporarily. We Race Home @ great time, less that an hour. But bad vibes soon return. Arguing & fighting upon return. CH 19: Angry Night Home; I brood & dwell on negative thoughts while Zach & Yakira waste all the hot water. Found the lost q in the backyard & salvaged it. Zach maintained his shitty mood & had to leave for work. Yakira & I went to the gas station & got more beer & cigarettes. Got turnt & made dinner @ the house. Ma came home, & Yakira talked her ear off. Eventually her & I crashed in the living room watching TV & I fell asleep. After two AM Zach came home. They woke me up giggling in the shower & I didn’t go easily back to sleep. CH 20: Sunday, February 19th, Jackson’s 21st Birthday; More ugly bickering w/ Zach. Both of us dope sick, he talks major shit & I break a glass pipe. He threatens to slug me. I punch myself & get a bloody black eye. He leaves w/ Jason to score more weed. Yakira asks if I’m okay, then leaves. Jackson never comes & alone @ the house I reflect heavily on the trip & her scornful words on the balcony. I decide to clean up. Then chill & drink w/ Jorge from work. CH 21: Strange Days; Jackson finally comes on Monday. I take her to get ice cream, then gift her card & an eighth. We talk. Neither of us seem very happy… Don’t hear from her for several days. Back @ the Hardware Store the owners are losing their grip w/ sanity, but I get closer w/ Jordan & Rachael & Shannon. Continue chilling w/ Jorge, Yakira & Yesse P. The next times I hear from Jackson is to buy weed & rush home. Sometimes she brings James, or somebody else… After I angrily speak my mind about it, she stops responding to my calls, texts, or snaps… Temporarily concluded that she hates me & it’s time for me to really move on & let her go. Have the epiphany that happiness comes not from others, but from within myself. EPILOGUE: The Uncertain Future; About a week later, Yakira wanted me & Zach to join her at the fair. We agreed. She came to the house & we chilled. Then she revealed Jackson was coming too. We went in two separate cars & the two of us talked everything out & felt much better. Ate some shrooms @ the carnival & staggered thru the fun house & rode all the attractions. Yakira & Zach got sick after all intense whiplash from the rides. They sat it out while me & Jackson shared a close moment on an incredibly dangerous ride. After everything was over, we had to part ways & go home. She had school & her child. I had work & hustling bags. But as we parted, we did knowing we’d always have each other there, as long as I stayed careful not to fuck it up…

#bacardi500 drgoddamndmt newstory #novel #poetry #adventure

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oselatra · 7 years

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48 hours in Fayetteville

More than just Woo-Pig.

48 HOURS

FayettevillE

More Than Just Woo-Pig.

The Hogs will forever reign supreme up on the hill in Fayetteville — even when the football and basketball teams are in shambles. But say, "Who pig?" and plan your visit on a weekend when there's not a big game. You might want to bring a bike and use the Razorback Regional Greenway to pedal around town and all the way north to Bentonville. That would help you burn off all the calories you're going to pile on touring Fayetteville's fantastic food and bar scene.

Day 1:

Start with a burger in a basement

"Housed in a cellar location straight out of a Beat poem, it's the kind of place that'll make even an oldster feel like the clock has been wound back to the glory days the minute you walk in the door," the Arkansas Times once wrote in a review of Hugo's (25 1/2 N. Block Ave.), a Fayetteville institution since 1977. Most of the decor appears not to have changed since then. Hugo's will hopefully forever be a bit dingy. That's the way we like it. There's no better place in Fayetteville to grab a burger and a beer.

Buy books, records

The best book shopping in Arkansas is in Fayetteville. Dickson Street Bookshop (325 W. Dickson St.), where used and out-of-print books are bought and sold ("where good books go to good people" is the store's motto), is a rabbit warren of literary delights in which bibliophiles can happily lose an hour or two. Nightbird Books (205 W. Dickson St.) sells a smart and broad collection of new books for adults and children. It's got everything an indie bookstore fan could want: pet birds to admire, an in-store coffee shop and comfy chairs. Block Street Records (17 N. Block Ave.) is the record shop every college town should have now that the kids are buying vinyl again. It's got a wide selection of obscure as well as popular new and used albums, a knowledgeable staff, and it's open daily with hours that stretch to 9 p.m. on Friday and Saturday nights.

You need nature

And Lake Fayetteville and the Botanical Garden of the Ozarks will provide. You didn't bring a boat, of course, but no worry: Lake Fayetteville will rent you one for its calm, no-wake waters. Or climb back on your mountain bike and check out the surrounding area. The 6.9-mile nature trail is a destination for bird watchers and others who like to walk in the woods, and it goes right by the Botanical Garden. There's a $7 ticket, but you'll see 12 themed gardens, a butterfly house and learn about bats or succulents or tea — whatever is being offered in the garden's educational program.

Grab a drink and some nostalgia

Maxine Miller sits at the head of the table of the Arkansas Bar Hall of Fame (which does not, but should, exist!). As a 24-year-old single woman in 1950, she opened Maxine's Tap Room at 107 N. Block Ave. For more than 50 years, Miller presided over the smoky shotgun bar, perched on the only green stool in a line of a red ones, sipping coffee and playing dominos, while generations of students stopped in for cold beer, a beloved jukebox and a try on an arcade bowling game known as "Ding Ding." In her later years, Miller sold T-shirts that read, "It was your parents' bar. Now it's yours." When Miller died in 2006, her family kept the bar open, but a fire forced it to close for a year, among other setbacks. But in 2013, the owners of nearby Block Avenue businesses The Little Bread Co., Terra Tots and Hammer & Chisel stepped in to operate the bar. They gave it a update, stripping out drop ceilings and peeling back some of the bric-brac, and introducing a smart, classic cocktail menu. It remains one of the best bars in Arkansas. Bonus points: Former Arkansas Times arts and entertainment editor and professional music nerd Robert Bell often DJs there.

Head south to the Mill District

Restaurateurs Jerrmy Gawthrop and Clayton Suttle have made South Fayetteville a food and drink destination. In 2006, they opened Greenhouse Grille (418 S. School Ave.), a "new American" restaurant that specializes in innovative takes on comfort food and relies heavily on local ingredients. Naturally, it's vegetarian and vegan friendly, though you can also get beef tenderloin served with bleu cheese butter. In 2014, Gawthrop and Suttle opened Wood Stone Craft Pizza + Bar just to the south of Greenhouse Grille (557 S. School Ave.). It's a similar formula to Greenhouse, with lots of local ingredients inventively combined, but on pizza cooked in a wood oven. You'll also find a happening bar scene, with a wide selection of Arkansas craft beers and craft cocktails; there's boozy root beer and dreamsicle floats, too. Both restaurants are easily accessible for bikers or walkers on the Frisco Trail, part of the Razorback Regional Greenway.

Stay downtown ... or on the outskirts

The former Cosmopolitan Hotel underwent a complete redesign and renovation, which included replacing and updating furniture, fixtures, plumbing and electrical systems, before reopening in 2012 as The Chancellor (70 N. East Ave.), a boutique hotel with 92 rooms and 15 suites, modern decor and an affordable price point (rooms start at $99). It's downtown near the square and within walking distance of campus and many of our recommendations for food, drink and fun. Or stay at the Inn at the Mill (3906 Johnson Mill Blvd.) just outside of town, in Johnson, near Arvest Park, where the Northwest Arkansas Naturals play. The late Fayetteville architect James Lambeth restored the Johnson Mill, part of which dates back before the Civil War (some of it was burned after the battle of Pea Ridge and reconstructed after the war), in the 1990s and constructed the inn around it. His daughter, Courtney James, and her husband, Miles James, ran it and the restaurant James at the Mill. The Jameses sold the property earlier this year and the new owners plan to turn the restaurant into additional space for lodging. In the meantime, what's there has been recently renovated.

Day 2:

Grab breakfast or brunch or toast at Arsaga's

Cary and Cindy Arsaga opened the first location of Arsaga Coffee Co. in 1992. Since then, the Arsaga family has become near synonymous with coffee in Fayetteville, adding new locations and its own warehouse roastery. In 2012, they transformed a long dilapidated freight train building into what became Arsaga's at the Depot (548 W. Dickson St.), an all-day restaurant that specializes in crepes, but also does sandwiches, salads, loaded fries and big breakfast plates. It's got a big outdoor porch that overlooks the Frisco Trail. In 2016, the family opened Arsaga's Church & Center (200 W. Center), nicknamed "Toast," because the shop only sells coffee and other drinks and loaded thick-cut toasts — like the Boss Hog (smoked pork, pimento cheese, pickled carrot, parsley and mojo verde on multigrain bread) or the Toast Shop Crunch (buttered and sugared sourdough topped with sweet maple cream and fresh fruit).

Art and architecture

The stomping grounds of E. Fay Jones and Edward Durrell Stone ought to have some architecture to look at, right? Stone designed the Fine Arts Center building on the UA campus, the Sigma Nu house and other buildings. Jones, the famed creator of Thorncrown Chapel in Eureka Springs, who taught at the UA, which named its architecture school for him, designed many of the fabulous mid-century homes you see tucked into Fayetteville's hills. In fact, Fayetteville is lousy with architectural firms and exciting 21st century designs by the DeMx, Marlon Blackwell, David McKee firms and others. If it's old you're into, Fayetteville has that in spades, too: In 1853, a century before Jones was bringing his version of Prairie-style works to town, Col. Tebbets built his place at 118 E. Dickson St. It's now the home of the Washington County Historical Society. Even earlier, in 1845, Judge David Walker built a home at 207 Center St.; it's one of the few properties, like the Col. Tebbets house, to survive the Civil War; now called the Walker-Stone House, it hosts exhibits of fine art. The oldest standing building in Fayetteville is the Ridge House, a portion of which dates to 1830.

Like Fort Smith, Fayetteville has joined the mural movement, with the Green Candy public art project. Check out "Owl" on the east side of the former Mountain Inn building; it's a three-story work by Puerto Rican artist Alexis Diaz. There's a timely eclipse mural by Argentinian street artist Marina Zumi on the west side of Hog Haus Brewing Co. And Fayetteville artist Jason Jones is the creator of the gas-masked rabbit at 545 W. Center St.

After you've seen what's outside, go indoors to see what's on the walls at the Walton Arts Center's Joy Pratt Markham Gallery. Before the renovation of the UA Fine Arts Center — part of the $120 million, Walton-family-supported School of Art that will be built during the next five years — see what's up in the gallery there. Ride your bike there; you'll never find a place to park.

Too much culture for you?

If you like your fun with a big helping of nostalgia, the Arkadia Retrocade (1478 N. College Ave.) is the place to get your fix on Asteroids, Galaga, Donkey Kong and other classic arcade games for one low entry fee.

Refresh in style ... or waste the afternoon and evening at adult playland

The restored Carnall Hall, the turn-of-the-century women's dorm that has been transformed into luxe lodging, has a terrific dark and cozy bar called the Lambeth Lounge. It's got that swank, intellectual Algonquin Round Table feel. And if you pull a Dorothy Parker and have one too many, no matter: Ella's Restaurant is in Carnall Hall, too, and it's a white-tablecloth, crab cakes and tenderloin kind of place.

On the other hand, JJ's Beer Garden & Brewing Co. (3615 N. Steel Blvd.), owned by JJ's Grill restaurateur Jody Thornton, is a 12,000-square-foot brewpub that has it all: beer brewed on location, a huge menu of pub grub and an outdoor barbecue food truck, and a massive outdoor patio and play area with a 16-by-19-foot TV, shuffleboard, cornhole, ping pong, bocce ball, sand volleyball and even a wading pool. You can imagine that things get a little crazy here on game days.

48 hours in Fayetteville

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Batman #21 Proudly (and Effectively) Displays its Watchmen Influences

SPOILER WARNING: This article contains major spoilers for “Batman” #21, on sale now.

Tom King and Jason Fabok’s “Batman” #21 marks the beginning of the Dark Knight’s anticipated crossover with the Flash, first teased in “DC Universe: Rebirth,” that will unveil many of the mysteries of the current DCU — including (possibly) the mastermind behind the New 52 universe, which excised five years from our heroes’ lives. “The Button, Part One” leans hard into the “Watchmen” themes that have permeated multiple titles since Rebirth, drawing heavy inspiration from Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons’ classic story.

RELATED: Watchmen’s Comedian Button Is Crucial for [SPOILER]’s Return In Batman

Last year’s “DC Universe: Rebirth” one-shot by Geoff Johns, Ethan Van Sciver, Ivan Reis and Gary Frank, which re-introduced former Flash Wally West into the current continuity, immediately began the unraveling of some elements of the New 52 reality. The story strongly implied that Dr. Manhattan, the clockwork demigod of “Watchmen,” had altered the bonds of the DCU’s reality for some unknown purpose, while another character called Mr. Oz, whom some have speculated is Moore and Gibbons’ antagonist Ozymandias, has since been seen operating behind the scenes, working toward some obscure stratagem, faking the death of Tim Drake (aka Red Robin) to take him off the board.

“The Button” represents the overdue team-up between the two heroes most invested in this universal struggle, and those most likely to unearth its mysteries. In the “Rebirth” special, Batman discovered, embedded in the walls of the Batcave, the iconic, blood-stained smiley button Rorschach recovered after the Comedian’s murder. Wally West’s return showed current Flash Barry Allen that core pieces of his life had been ripped away, and illustrated how Wally’s role in changing reality in “Flashpoint” weighs heavily on his shoulders.

Now, Batman is finally getting around to investigating that smiley button. And King and Fabok are showing off their “Watchmen” chops, enhancing their story in a way that holds all manner of Easter eggs for fans immersed in Moore and Gibbons’ book, but is simultaneously entirely accessible for those who haven’t read it.

On the Grid

“Watchmen” was noted, among other things, for its strict employment of the nine-panel grid, a device artist Dave Gibbons used masterfully for the story’s rhythmic pacing. Tom King previously wrote for the grid in “Omega Men,” illustrated to perfection by Barnaby Bagenda. He does so once again in “Batman” #21, which adheres almost entirely to the grid, though it does break for a single page as Batman’s time runs out in his fight against the Reverse Flash (more on this in a bit).

The device isn’t necessarily apparent in the first few pages — pages 1 and 2 are each three panels, three rows with a single panel each, while page 3 is a splash. Further, the first two don’t immediately call “Watchmen” to mind, focusing as they do on a scene at Arkham Asylum, where the semi-amnesiac Saturn Girl watches a hockey game she knows will end in tragedy. (There is a quick nod to Moore and Gibbons’ work in the background, though, in the form of a smiley face-emblazoned poster declaring “Arkhman is for Healing.”)

But from page 4 on, which divides into a full nine panels, it’s clear that what’s preceded has also adhered to the grid, combining the left, center and right panels on each tier for pages 1-2, and all of the panels for the page 3 splash, much as Gibbons modified the grid in “Watchmen” to create specific pacing effects. Fabok and King use less variety here than did Gibbons and Moore — “Watchmen” layouts would switch up the selection of combined panels, whereas this issue trades primarily in full-nines, horizontal threes, and splashes. Whether this is by design and will play into the story’s upcoming chapters remains to be seen.

Iconography

The bloodied smiley button, perhaps the most recognized emblem of “Watchmen,” hardly needs its significance explained. But King and Fabok make many subtle nods to the imagery of Moore and Gibbons’ dystopia, beginning right on page one.

Varying perspective, such as an extreme close-up of an object followed by a view of the same object from further back, was a recurring feature of “Watchmen” from its opening pages, where the view pulled directly up from a smiley button in a puddle of blood all the way up to the to the top floors of a high-rise. In “Batman” #21, we begin on a close up of center ice at a hockey game, viewed through a TV screen. In panel 2, when we pull back, a player’s stick has landed, evoking another bit of “Watchmen” iconography — the clock face. If that’s the minute hand, it’s pointed to around ten minutes to the hour. Not a lot of time, and deliberately similar as well, in fact, to the orientation of the blood spatter on the button.

Shortly after, in a scene Bat-fans have seen any number of times before, the Dark Knight stands before a massive wall of monitors in the Batcave. But in the context of such a “Watchmen”-heavy issue, the image evokes Ozymandias observing the world from his own headquarters. In this case, however, every screen is filled with the smiley face, save for four central monitors, one of which is tuned the hockey game.

The smileys overwhelm the image, giving an immediate impression that Batman is simply obsessed with this mystery, but with a moment’s thought this becomes a very strange scene. One of the smiley monitors displays a double helix overlay, suggesting Bruce is running tests on the button’s blood splatter, perhaps conveying that each monitor is devoted to a different experiment or set of data. But with only four remaining screens to keep an eye on Gotham — one shows firefighters at work, another appears to be a news program, a third looks like a bird’s-eye view of the city — why is one devoted to the hockey game? Is this what the Batman’s tests on the button are telling him is important, was he aware of Saturn Girl’s breakdown at Arkham, or is the Dark Knight simply a fan of the sport?

After rotating the button several times over his hand, all while he takes in the game, Batman tosses the button aside, causing it to come into contact with the Psycho Pirate’s mask. The Pirate, of course, was a major figure from “Crisis on Infinite Earths,” DC’s first major universe-altering event; so important that when the dust settled and a new universe was born, Psycho Pirate was the only person to remember the original continuity. Here, a spark passes between the mask and the button, and Batman sees a brief vision of the “Flashpoint” Batman, his father Thomas Wayne.

Batman phones up the Flash to help with this new mystery, and Barry Allen promises to be at the cave… in one minute.

“I saw God”

In that minute, though, the revitalized Reverse Flash attacks, taking revenge for his own death in “Flashpoint” at the hands of Thomas Wayne upon his son, this reality’s Batman. Bats actually holds his own pretty well against against a villain who can move at the speed of thought, taking each punch and even landing a solid hit by momentarily pinning Thawne’s foot to the floor with a Batarang. As the seconds tick down — another motif seen throughout “Watchmen” — Batman knows all he has to do is run out the clock until help arrives.

But the Flash is late.

This is the scene that breaks the grid; the clock runs out and the anticipated event fails to materialize. On the three-panel page, two tall panels split what would be the grid’s center panel, and Reverse Flash lands his knock-out punch in a full-width panel that is slightly taller than the grid’s third tier.

Thawne picks up the badge, which instantly transports him… somewhere; a moment later, he’s back, much as Dr. Manhattan would disappear and immediately reappear throughout Moore and Gibbons’ epic. But when the Reverse Flash returns — in a burst of blue light — his body is burnt and ruined, similar to how Barry’s was when he ran to save the universe in “Crisis.” Thawne’s final words before his seeming death are, “I saw God.”

The World’s Greatest Detective, The Fastest Man Alive

DC has made no secret of the fact that the “Watchmen” characters are central to the “Rebirth” mystery. Now that Batman and the Flash are attacking the problem head on, it shouldn’t be surprising, then, that that the influence of “Watchmen” grows ever stronger. But what’s also notable is how King and Fabok aren’t just using “Watchmen’s” characters and objects like the button, but also studying the storytelling elements that landed Moore and Gibbons’ book not only in the pantheon of comics but also earned it a spot on many literary “best of” lists. The result is not at all academic; they’ve enhanced their own story by using effective techniques, devices with a particular pedigree that enrich the sense of weight and import that the “Watchmen” characters’ arrival portends.

Most importantly, if you don’t know any of this, if you couldn’t care less about the science of comics storytelling. Even if you’ve never read “Watchmen,” you’ve still got a rock-solid story about the Flash and Batman teaming up to solve a mystery and stop a powerful villain. It’s a damn fine superhero action adventure, and really, isn’t that what matters most?

The post Batman #21 Proudly (and Effectively) Displays its Watchmen Influences appeared first on CBR.

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