Webseries Moodboards: Cap’n “Gravy” Davy Crowbones, Headless: A Sleepy Hollow Story
“Avast, ye shoddy bilge-rats! Tis I, Cap’n ‘Gravy’ Davy Crowbones, scourge of the Hudson Harbor...” “...Architect of the San Juan Swizzle... lover of Juniper Labouffe, Lady of a Thousand Sapphiressss...” *passes out*
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Posting this now because I don't know exactly how to start the next bit and I feel like this sits pretty nicely ("nice" being a loose term) on its own for a while.
So, thanks @nerfherdingteleporter for that lovely list of questions, I WILL answer them all, even if not all with full stories but "How did Jason and Tim get caught?" caught my eye
So let's start there :)
He was sore and achy everywhere which... Was a significant improvement over the last time he could recall. He'd been...
———
Jason woke up slowly, clawing through the foggy, muddled feeling in his mind.
Oh.
Oh...
Jason's next breath came out shaking as flashes of memory came back to him.
His mother's face as he was dragged away
The beating
Hitting his head as he was tossed to the ground
The beating
The stabbing fluorescent lights above him, piercing into his aching head
The beating
That horrible laughter, never ending throughout the endless, constant,
Beating.
It must have lasted hours, days, even. He'd lost track. All he knew was that it hurt.
It had hurt so much.
It should have killed him. It may have if it hadn't been for the- for his horrible sense of drama.
Jason whimpered quietly as more pieces began to slot together in his exhausted mind.
The clock. The big, red, glowing, digital countdown.
Bomb.
He'd been conscious. Maybe miraculously.
Maybe unfortunately.
It had hurt so much, dragging himself across the concrete, fighting his broken body to reach the door.
But he'd made it. He must have.
He couldn't remember picking the lock or pulling himself out and away from that nightmare building but, he must have.
The next thing he remembered was collapsing on hard pavement. Outside. Away. Free.
And then also... A vehicle. Coming towards him.
Bruce.
It must have been Bruce, there was no other option that made sense. After all, who else would be all the way out by an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of Gotham at ass-o'clock in the morning but his dad, looking for him.
Jason relaxed as everything started to make sense. Bruce had come. He'd found him. Saved him.
He hadn't been able to bring him home yet, he reasoned, as the sterile white room around him started to process.
They'd had to go to a hospital then. That made sense.
The distant aches in place of horrible pain made sense too. He must be on a lot of pain killers. It wasn't his preference, generally he'd rather not take any drugs at all. But Bruce wouldn't let anyone do anything bad to him.
So as he drifted back off to sleep, he figured that everything must be alright.
He was safe.
-–—–-
Bruce stared, unfeeling, at the results. It was... Impossible. There had to be something else, some other proof that...
But there wasn't.
They'd spent nearly 14 hours searching, all hands on deck, and all signs had pointed towards that god awful warehouse.
That godawful pile of rubble now.
The DNA match wasn't perfect. Less than fifty percent, but they couldn't have expected much more with his... With the body so ruined.
He didn't want to believe it. Wished and hoped desperately that there was any other way but... All the evidence was there. There was no one else in that wearhouse when the bomb went. And besides, he'd had so little biological family. The body simply couldn't BE anyone else.
There was no other option anymore. They had to stop looking.
He... Jason. His baby was dead.
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Me, after forgetting to cut the top off an onion before dicing it: “Aw dammit”
The Gordon Ramsey that lives in my head: “Don’t worry there, this mistake isn’t going to ruin anything. No need to be too hard on yourself”
Me: “Wow, that’s…not what I was expecting”
Gordon: “Of course, you ought to know by now that I don’t shout at cooks just to do so. I do it because the people in hit television show Kitchen Nightmares are putting their services out into the public and claim to be good enough to have the title of head chef. You’re just some guy in your twenties making beef stroganoff for yourself and your roommate. I’m kind of a dick, yeah, but I’m not gonna scream at you for a minor mistake like this”
Me: “Oh….well…thanks”
Gordon: “You’re welcome…cunt…”
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VERY IMPORTANT a dam in the Netherlands, the weerdsluis lock, is directly on a migratory path for spawning fish. They have a worker stationed there to open the door for the fish, but they can take a while to open it. So to keep the fish from getting preyed on by birds they installed a doorbell. Only, the fish don't have hands to ring the doorbell. If you go to their website, they have a LIVE CAMERA AND A DOORBELL that YOU RING FOR THE FISH when they're waiting, and then the dam worker opens the door for them! I can't express how obsessed I am with this. look at this shit. oh my god.
Please check on the fish doorbell once in a while :)
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