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droughtofapathy · 4 months

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The Gilded Age's Broadway Divas: Agnes van Rhijn (Christine Baranski)

Christine Baranski plays the curmudgeonly head of the van Rhijn household who always has a sharp word for everything. A bastion of Old New York, Agnes detests change and challenges to tradition.

In contrast, Christine Baranski has had a long and illustrious career in the theatre, even before earning mainstream recognition in movie musicals such as Chicago (2002 - a delight), Mamma Mia (2008 - an icon), and Into the Woods (2014 - the highlight in a dismal movie). In the theatre, she has taken on seven of Sondheim's finest works to much better success, including the original pre-Broadway workshop of Sunday in the Park with George (Clarisse, later named Yvonne), regional productions of Sweeney Todd (Mrs. Lovett), and the exquisite Encores! production of Follies (Carlotta) alongside Donna Murphy, our Mrs. Astor at large.

Christine is a two-time Tony winner for Best Featured Actress in a Play for The Real Thing and Rumors. We all know her iconic Tanya Chesham-Leigh of the Mamma Mia cinematic universe, so you'll forgive me if I neglect those performances in this list.

#1: "A Little Priest," Sweeney Todd (1999)

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With Sweeney Todd raking in over $1.7 million weekly, let's start with one of many Sweeney Todd productions that's just so much better than what they've got going on at the Lunt-Fontanne Theatre these days.

The act one closer is considered by many as Sondheim at his lyrical best. A comedic killer of a number, nailing the intricate lyrics would give even the strongest theatre veteran anxiety (I have seen many a delightful disaster and brutal butchery of this number), but Christine does so with aplomb.

This performance alongside Kelsey Grammar as Sweeney is from the 1999 Reprise! L.A. 20th anniversary concert production at the Ahmanson Theatre. Three years later, Christine would go on to reprise her role as Mrs. Lovett at The Kennedy Center opposite Broadway's leading man Brian Stokes Mitchell. Also featured in this production is another Gilded Age actress, but more on that later.

#2: "Everybody Wants to Do a Musical," Nick & Nora (1991)

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Based on the book/film/tv Nick and Nora Charles, this musical is infamous for being one of the most notorious flops in Broadway history. It had a then-record breaking preview period of 71 shows, and closed after just nine performances, proving not even an all-star cast (including Joanna Gleason, Chris Sarandon, Debra Monk, and Faith Prince) and creative team can make a hit.

Here, Christine plays Tracy Gardner, a fading starlet whose comeback is threatened by an untimely murder. There's really not much that can be said about the plot, but if anyone wants me to recite an oral history of everything I know about this flop, DM me.

It's a miracle we even have a cast album to commemorate this...special show. A full bootleg can be found HERE on youtube, if you want to see this masterpiece for yourself. I can't imagine why you'd want to though.

#3: "A Fact Can Be a Beautiful Thing," Promises, Promises (1997)

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Once again proving her comedic chops, here Christine plays a one-scene wonder barfly named Marge MacDougall in the 1997 Encores! production of Promises, Promises opposite Martin Short. The height difference really elevates the comedy. Her character shows up for one scene (and a half) and in every production, has stolen the show. You can see why. The number really has no plot value, but it's perfect in every way.

A note: Encores! for those unfamiliar, is a series of limited run concert-style productions put on by New York City Center. It was originally conceived 30 years ago to highlight hidden gems and forgotten pieces, but has included more mainstream shows in recent years (y'know, to keep the lights on).

Incidentally, Christine is not the only Gilded Age actress to take on this role to great success. The other actress has a...wildly different approach to the role. But more on that later...

#4: "I'm Still Here," Follies (2007)

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I love Follies. I would commit atrocities you cannot fathom to have seen the 2007 Encores! production of Follies, starring fellow Gilded Ager Donna Murphy as Phyllis, Victoria Clark as Sally, and featuring Christine Baranski as Carlotta. Here, singing one of Sondheim's greatest hits, Christine plays an aged former Follies girl whose big number was cut, but is happy to serenade her audience with it now. My kingdom for a high quality bootleg of this show, please someone must have it.

Full disclosure: this is not my favorite rendition. That honor goes to Elaine Stritch in the Sondheim 80th Birthday Concert. But this one is damn good, now that I'm reviewing it. It showcases Christine's fantastic vocal and acting abilities, and that's Sondheim for you.

In 2015, Christine would go on to play Phyllis in the Royal Albert Hall production of Follies. And I love you, Christine, but you are a Carlotta through and through.

#5: "Welcome to the Theatre," Applause - Kennedy Center Honors (1997)

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This past week, Christine Baranski honored opera diva Renee Fleming at the Kennedy Center Honors, but that was not only time. In 1997, she was one of three mega talents honoring the gorgeous, the glamorous, the golden girl from the Golden Age of Hollywood, Lauren Bacall.

She opened the tribute with a song from Bacall's Tony-winning Applause, a musical based on All About Eve. Side note: people have divisive opinions on Lauren Bacall's singing voice. I love it.

While Christine's isolated performance can be found, I elected to link to the full tribute so you can all enjoy this delight. Following Christine is my beloved Bebe Neuwirth, and the late Ann Reinking (singing songs unrelated to Lauren Bacall, but fuck it). The final trio of all three women is the stuff of my dreams. I need you to witness it too.

Bonus: "Hot for Howie"

Nothing I can say will add to this. I'll just let the song speak for itself.

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LINK TO MASTERPOST

#the gilded age #agnes van rhijn #christine baranski #sweeney todd #nick & nora #follies #promises promises #applause #broadway #musical theatre

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spartanguard · 7 months

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Rules: Go to your published works on AO3 and list the first fic you ever published there, the last fic you published, any fic that you wrote for a fandom/ship only once, your favorite fic you wrote in the fandom/ship that has the most works, the fic you wish more people read, the fic you agonized over the most, the fic that sprang fully formed from your mind without any effort, and a work you are proud of—for whatever reason. <3

Tagged by @shireness-says (thank you, darling Dev!!!)

First fic: Drunk Dial (okay, it's not actually my first fic on AO3, but I posted it on tumblr first). It's exactly the kind of silliness I was into at the time.

Last fic: I'll be posting the final chapter of Sons of Love and Death tomorrow (though I highly doubt it will be my "last"--as in final--fic; just need the muse to focus on something)

Only once: All my fics have been for OUAT, and the vast majority Captain Swan, but I wrote two fics for crackships: A Pair of Barflies (Captain Beauty) and True Love is Like a Beard: It Grows (Captain Charming--romantic, which I need to specify because there are quite a few brotp fics in there).

Favorite fic from the fandom I’ve written in most: You mean I have to pick? I usually say Savage Garden, but it might be overtaken by Sons of Love and Death...but probably only because it's more recent.

Fic I wish more people read: All of them, haha. But particularly Sons of Love and Death and Most Wanted. They were both a lot of fun to play with different kinds of magic and worldbuilding.

Fic I agonized over: Sons of Love and Death started from a tumblr prompt sent to me in September 2015 and didn't see the light of day until July 2023. So definitely that one. (But let's be real, just about all of my MC fics.) Shoutout also goes to Two Booksellers of Storybrooke because I had to brush up on Shakespeare a LOT.

Fic that sprang fully formed: A good number of one-shots--particularly the ones inspired by songs (which I will be adding to soon)--but also Partners, because binge-watching SVU does that to a person.

Work(s) I’m proud of: SEVERAL! All of the above, for starters, but here's a few more:

A Tall Tail: My first MC/'verse (because it ended up expanding from there) and what got me any kind of following as a writer. I'd never tackled anything like that--let alone being new to fanfic writing--so that I was able to pull it off still amazes me.

Something In The Water: aka Mermaid Killian 2. Because pulling that off in a modern setting was incredibly fun.

Spinning Together: I just love that I was able to put together CS and colorguard (my other passion).

It's Getting Hard to be Someone: This was an idea that had been floating around forever and I'm really happy with the way it turned out when I finally got to write it.

I could keep going but I'd be here a while. But we all know that when we write something, we usually put a part of us into it, so it's hard not to have a fondness for all of them!

Tagging: @optomisticgirl @initiala @ohmightydevviepuu @kmomof4 and whoever else wants to do this!

#tumblr tagging games #fanfic

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ajoytobeheld · 6 months

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Gig milestones

April 28th, 2009

I’ve wanted to work this out for my own amusement for a while. It might be worth publishing. My Mum and Dad will definitely find it interesting at least.

(This, obviously, doesn’t include instores, acoustic things and radio sessions, because mostly they suck)

First off, here is a photograph of us before (I think) we had ever even played a gig (it’s scary how young we look):

NB. I’m wearing a tie because I had just come from some awards thing. Not because I wanted to be in the Strokes.

* * * * *

GIGS PER YEAR OF LC! EXISTENCE:

2006 – 17 2007 – 59 2008 – 109 2009 – 43 (and counting)

Total = 228

MILESTONES:

Number 1 – First Gig (Cardiff ‘Fun Factory’, May 8, 2006) Number 6 – First Headline Show (Cardiff Barfly, June 16 2006) Number 8 – First Gig Outside Of Wales (Water Rats, London, September 11 2006) Number 9 – First Gig Not In A Capital City/First Gig With Sky Larkin (Love Apple, Bradford, September 13 2006) Number 18 – First Gig With Johnny Foreigner (The Social, Nottingham, March 1 2007) Number 21 – First Gig In Scotland (Capitol, Glasgow, March 3 2007) Number 28 – First Festival Gig (Leeds Wireless, June 16 2007) Number 30 – First Show Outside Of The UK (Razzmatazz, Barcelona, June 29 2007) Number 32 – First US Gig (Lollapalooza, Chicago, August 5 2007) Number 37 – First Ireland Gig (Whelans, Dublin, Oct 2 2007)

FIFTIETH GIG – Cockpit, Leeds (October 19 2007)

Number 61 – Start Of First European Tour (London Calling Festival, Amsterdam, Nov 3 2007) Number 69 – First West Coast Show (Echo Lounge, LA, November 27 2007) Number 76 – First Japan Show (British Anthems, Tokyo, December 9 2007) Number 85 – First Time Supporting Kula Shaker (Haldern Pop, Haldern, March 1 2008) Number 89 – First SXSW (Emo Jrs, March 13 2008)

ONE-HUNDREDTH GIG – Jailhouse, Hereford (April 16 2008)

Number 105 – Start Of First Support Tour (w/ the Go! Team, Le 106, Rouen, April 25 2008) Number 109 – First ATP Gig (Camber Sands, May 9 2008) Number 199 – First Show In Mexico (Lunario Nacional, Mexico City, March 6 2009)

TWO-HUNDREDTH GIG – Teatro Estudio Cavaret, Guadalajara (March 7 2009)

Number 216 – First South American Show (La Trastienda Club, Buenos Aires, April 21 2009)

* * * * *

I think our 250th gig might be in the UK. Let’s do something special to celebrate, yeh?

#2009 #lc!blog #lc!image

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jacksonjb · 7 months

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Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds - Do You Love Me Technical Analysis

Coverage, Shots and Takes

The song is compiled with a mix of shots from live stage performances in bars, orchestrated, spotlighted film sets and actual live footage from around Sao Paulo, Brazil, as announced through a freeze framed title card at the start of the music video. Each of the scenes filmed have been used to gather coverage - raw footage that allows the editor to make an effective cut. A number of different shots need to be taken to be able to make this work, and a lot of random footage of the members of the band playing instruments is required to be able to sync up music with footage of the band playing in time.

Scene 1

Scenes in which Nick Cave is walking through the streets of Sao Paulo, and into a bar, are all filmed in one segment. They are compiled together and intercut with a separate scenario of the whole band playing together.

Following the establishing of the setting, and a sweep through the streets and vistas of Sao Paulo, we come to rest on the bar that the rest of the music video seems to be located in.

The camera swoops and glides through the bar like some animated barfly, stopping to freeze frame on certain denizens of the establishment. And finally coming to rest on the band leader, Nick Cave himself.

The culmination of the montage of names on the leader, at the end of all the other people make it so that the audience feels he has some significance amongst them, or suggesting that he should hold some significance in the eye of the audience. Through this rather liberal use of staging actors and blocking, we get a rather loosely crafted feeling from the video, adding to a feel of authenticity not just in the direction, but in the band themselves.

Scene 2

From the previous shot of the 'Nick' freeze frame, a pan to the left reveals that same nick on stage, belting out the chorus in a fitting white suit, a stark change from his previous attire of glasses and suave bar shirt. These shots are initially a close up, so when we get this next wide shot:

It thus becomes a reveal in which the audiences can see that the band, and the singer, are now performing on stage in the same bar we saw earlier. A Mid-shot shows the band in the background, not entirely the focus of the shot given that now we are away from the glitzy background that was seen in the close ups, but the denizens and frequenters of the bar are in the foreground, obscuring the staging, and the stage of the band, perhaps a tongue-in-cheek, subversive shot meant to draw attention away from the band and to the crowd, the audience.

Scene 3

The final use of coverage used is entirely separate from the previous two locations - it takes place in an entirely dark room, and seems to be an abstraction of the song taking place through wide shots, mid shots and close ups, blurring the line between the audience and the band by showing previous bar denizens intermingling with the band, the camera showing no bias to either party.

Conclusion:

This technical analysis provides an overview of what coverage is, and how it is used with visual reference. Coverage allows for music video directors to have a wide range of clips for use to match up and sync audio with visuals, allowing for seamless presentation of artists and their music.

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dontcallmebymyusername · 1 year

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Part 2 of the series in which we get to find out what the phrase "It's all part of the job" means to Jack. 😉 - in collaboration with @anni-yanni

Senior Detective Inspector Jack Robinson is a very good police officer and a very talented investigator. And sometimes he likes to personalize his modus operandi. In other words, he does it the Jack Robinson style.

2/? Wooing the witness for information (part 2)

Senior Detective Inspector Jack Robinson is sent on a mission by Miss Fisher. And that is to woo for information... scratch that... to deal with Angela Lombard a.k.a. "the bombshell". And he was so good at it, that she confessed. Everything. Besides, he even helped her out of her dress as a reward. Did I mention that it's all in the line of duty?

Music and clip bits in this video:

1. Aloe Blacc - My Way (original mix)

2. Marilyn Monroe - I Wanna Be Loved By You

3. Jonathan Frakes telling you you're wrong for 47 seconds (YouTube) (audio clip)

4. Some Like It Hot (1959)

5. Gilda (1946)

6. SpongeBob SquarePants time cards number 142, 51

7. Videojug - How to undress a woman with your teeth (YouTube)

8. Shawn Mendes, Camila Cabello - Señorita

9. Barfly (1987)

10. To Have And Have Not (1944)

11. Star (Season 3) - All To Myself (full song) (original mix)

Fun fact: Did you know that one can upload up to 500 Mb to Tumblr? Since the video is larger than that, I can only upload the compressed version, so the quality of the video is kind of low. So, here's the link to the video on YouTube:

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badjokesbyjeff · 3 years

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An infinite number of mathematicians walk into a bar

The first mathematician orders a beer

The second orders half a beer

"I don't serve half-beers" the bartender replies

"Excuse me?" Asks mathematician #2

"What kind of bar serves half-beers?" The bartender remarks. "That's ridiculous."

"Oh c'mon" says mathematician #1 "do you know how hard it is to collect an infinite number of us? Just play along"

"There are very strict laws on how I can serve drinks. I couldn't serve you half a beer even if I wanted to."

"But that's not a problem" mathematician #3 chimes in "at the end of the joke you serve us a whole number of beers. You see, when you take the sum of a continuously halving function-"

"I know how limits work" interjects the bartender "Oh, alright then. I didn't want to assume a bartender would be familiar with such advanced mathematics"

"Are you kidding me?" The bartender replies, "you learn limits in like, 9th grade! What kind of mathematician thinks limits are advanced mathematics?"

"HE'S ON TO US" mathematician #1 screeches

Simultaneously, every mathematician opens their mouth and out pours a cloud of multicolored mosquitoes. Each mathematician is bellowing insects of a different shade. The mosquitoes form into a singular, polychromatic swarm. "FOOLS" it booms in unison, "I WILL INFECT EVERY BEING ON THIS PATHETIC PLANET WITH MALARIA"

The bartender stands fearless against the technicolor hoard. "But wait" he inturrupts, thinking fast, "if you do that, politicians will use the catastrophe as an excuse to implement free healthcare. Think of how much that will hurt the taxpayers!"

The mosquitoes fall silent for a brief moment. "My God, you're right. We didn't think about the economy! Very well, we will not attack this dimension. FOR THE TAXPAYERS!" and with that, they vanish.

A nearby barfly stumbles over to the bartender. "How did you know that that would work?"

"It's simple really" the bartender says. "I saw that the vectors formed a gradient, and therefore must be conservative."

#funny #humor #jokes #lol #comedy

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pascalls · 4 years

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Hi! I'd love to learn more about Charlie 😊 I've seen you mention that he was an employee of Burns' - what happened to him for him to become a hybrid? I'm also really interested to know how that affected his personality, and his outlook on things, and whether the way people interact with him has changed since. And has he always lived in Springfield? Apologies if that's too many questions (I really love learning about people's OCs 😊)!

You’ve presented me with an opportunity to go into the lore of my OC and now you have NO ESCAPE. WATCH OUT THIS IS GONNA BE LONG.

Charlie has always lived in Springfield, most likely, and is the result of wealthy parents having absolutely no interest in their own child beyond using him as a bargaining chip, attempting to marry him off to another marginally wealthy family so that they can combine wealth and continue to be rich bitches. He was arranged to marry the daughter of the other family, but unfortunately, he’s primarily gay (he has some women exceptions to the rule, but they’re few and far in between). So an arranged marriage would’ve been miserable and terrible. In an attempt to prepare himself for married life, he has a one-night stand with a woman named Carla who accidentally births a little boy, affectionately named Connor.

Charlie wants to be present for the boy, but urges Carla to keep his parenthood a secret. Their general incompatibility, Charlie’s pre-arranged commitment, and Carla’s eventual disgust for Charlie’s homosexual tendencies keep her from allowing Charlie to truly act as a parent, though she doesn’t waste time in dropping the child off for days at a time for him to look after. Connor grows up knowing his father, but he isn’t very empowered by his mother. As a result, Connor is a bit of a fearful and quiet kid and both Charlie and Carla are at odds. Charlie considered fighting for custody, but did not, for fear that it would throw his whole arranged marriage deal into chaos. Connor remained a secret from Charlie’s parents throughout his childhood.

He got a job at the plant in his thirties so he could at least attempt to learn some sort of independence before being married off (and perhaps learn how to be a provider for Connor without relying on his own parents’ wealth), but with a penchant for numbers, he just ended up being another pencil pushing accountant. Faced with depression, lack of guidance in his own life, his inability to see his son on the regular, and being enormously closeted, he sort of just lived day by day. (Of course, there were some experiments, like his VERY brief one night stand with a particular lawyer, but that ended in a bitter, catty rivalry that carries on to the day.)

Anyway, my guess is that Burns had it in mind to use some of the plant workers as an attempt to harness the radioactivity that just kind of FLOATS around there to combine animal DNA with human DNA and create super-workers that would be much more efficient and trainable, but would complain less about health benefits. Charlie was just the unlucky first pick for guinea pig. He disappeared at the plant for several weeks while his genetic code got all sorts of messed up and only escaped with the help of the other idiot plant workers that didn’t do their due diligence at locking up the section of the plant that Burns had him tucked away in. But now he looked like a horrible mutant - in his opinion - and he holed up in somewhere in the woods until nightfall.

Once night came around - it was raining too, which didn’t help - he made a break for it to try and hide out somewhere in the town. Unfortunately, a certain reverend decided to accidentally plow into Charlie with his car and had to drag him home to his basement because 1) he couldn’t tell the cops that he’d just killed someone, if Charlie ended up dead 2) this thing isn’t human. When Charlie eventually came to in Lovejoy’s basement, he decided that this was the opportunity he had to live a new life. Be someone entirely different (though why he didn’t change his name is his own particular brand of stupidity, but luckily, Burns’ little pet project was soon forgotten by the man himself and Smithers is reluctant to give Charlie away because he’s not that invested).

So he let his hair grow, let himself be more open about his sexuality, and took up smoking and drinking (and a number of drugs to cope with the trauma of having your entire body changed without your consent), and now is the over-the-top, sometimes wildly inappropriate gay lizard you now see today, though he still does his best for his son, whose mother is only marginally aware of anything that happens in town. His parents were told that he had died in a tragic accident and seem to be just fine with that. They’ve not made any attempts to find him themselves and his previously arranged fiance found another man to wed.

BUT HIS NEW LIFE IS STILL NOT WITHOUT ITS STRUGGLES. He falls in love with the stupid sardonic nature of Reverend Lovejoy and constantly works to undermine the man’s religion (though he’s marginally careful about boundaries, i.e.: he would never disparage Helen, nor would he take it upon himself to sabotage their marriage), but he’s relatively unsuccessful. He falls deeper and deeper, further complicating things when he dons a hokey Halloween costume so he can go out and live a life free of persecution because of his non-human nature. He takes on the role of a new-age plague doctor (despite knowing next to nothing about medicine), and gets a job at Springfield Elementary as the school nurse (despite not having any credentials, but who does).

He regularly attends church - just for the sake of being present in town - and finds an enemy in Ned Flanders who takes up far too much of Lovejoy’s time for Charlie’s envious nature to be satisfied with - and bounces wildly between pining for a man he can’t have and trying to keep himself from constantly throwing hands with Flanders (who has a suspicion that Charlie is some kind of demon presence put on Earth to turn the reverend away from God, which incidentally, might not be that inaccurate).

Most people in Springfield never knew his name before, and thus don’t make the connection between who he is now and who he was before, but he is careful with divulging too much personal information to anyone. Despite that, he regularly explores intimacy with other men because of his desire to be appreciated, loved, and doted on (which he is most certainly not getting from Lovejoy), including several nights spent with Smithers who becomes a bit of a confidante. On that note, while he does his best to maintain his secret, there are a number of people who know that he is not human, including Marge (a mother-figure to him, despite them being the same age, but she gives him good advice), Lisa (because she isn’t dumb), Superintendent Chalmers and Principal Skinner (both involved in some shenanigans that need a lot more context to get into lmaoo), and eventually, Sam the barfly.

As he is now, Charlie is constantly looking for some kind of reassurance in the form of affection, but is increasingly frustrated by Lovejoy’s insistence that there is nothing between them, despite evidence to the contrary and heavily influenced by the man’s (and his own internalized) apparent homophobia. (I made an animatic with them several weeks ago and it very much embodies their dynamic.) He buries himself in drinking and drugs to chase away his feeling of inadequacy and his fears of being a good parent, as well as his realization that his parents never truly cared, how he is slated to be relatively alone for the rest of his life, and the fear that he will never be normal again. But he combats this deep depression with his over-the-top personality, at times, and his smarmy, self-absorbed facade of confidence that would shatter if anyone poked a little too hard at it.

AND THAT’S WHERE HE IS NOW.

Thanks for coming to my TED Talk.

#tj talk #oc #simpsona #LONG POST #thetransverseprocess

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rixvio · 11 months

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Grayson Harper

Aspiration : Life of the Party

Traits : Music Lover / Active / Barfly / Determined / Slow To Warm Up

Genetics

Face Overlay 1 | Face Overlay 2 | Skintone | Skin Overlay | Eyelashes

Hairline | Hair | Eyebrows (Number 45) | Face Overlays | Face Details

Face Details 2 | Nose Shader | Face Shine (Highlight Number 9) |

Eyes | Sclera | Freckles | Face Contour | Face Contour 2

Face Contour 3 | Lips | Blush | Catchlight | Tattoos

Presets

Body Preset | Head Preset

Accessories

Plugs | Headphones | Nails

Clothes

Top | Top Print | Bottom | Tied Shirt | Shoes

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

Make sure you download the sliders I use here, otherwise the sims will look different.

Credits to all CC creators. :)

#ts4 #sims 4 #cc links #maxis mix #male sim

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is-it-art-tho · 3 years

Link

This is Chapter 3!

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Summary: Jason will not let this happen again. He can't. But what if he's already too late?

Jason hated Halloween.

It didn’t used to be that way. There was a period, a lifetime ago, when he loved trick or treating.

Even now, he could still feel the bulky zombie teeth in his mouth, could hear the sound of miniature candies rattling around a plastic pumpkin bucket. Years of practice covering Bruce’s own bruises and scars had turned the older man into a savant with a palette and latex, and Jason could still picture the depths of Bruce’s eyes as he hovered practically nose to nose with the younger boy, skillfully crafting gruesome wounds and sutures across his face.

Back then, Halloween had been one of the few times a year when Jason and Bruce got to dress up for fun rather than battle or ritzy, soul-sucking fundraisers. It was a day when blades were made of plastic and Styrofoam rather than steel, and the things that lurked in the shadows were not deadly adversaries but friends and neighbors. A time when they moved with their feet planted firmly on the ground instead of along rooftops or soaring through the air, and the coming of night did not bring with it danger or violence.

On Halloween, blood tasted like food coloring and corn syrup. The bruises on Bruce’s face were bright and fake, and his scowl, usually menacing, was little more than a poorly disguised grin.

“No, you gotta be scary!” Jason had complained once after glancing up to find a wide smile on Bruce’s blotchy green face.

And Bruce had laughed, a full-throated sound from deep in his chest before promising, “Okay, okay, I’ll try.”

But that was then, and dwelling on those times now was an exercise in masochism.

These days, Halloween was easier to get through from inside a bar or holed up in his apartment. While miniature witches and cartoon characters trickled into the streets, he intended to spend the night plastered, eating too much food, watching mind-numbing TV, and praying the “No Candy” sign on his door would be enough to deter any would-be sugar gremlins.

As he kicked up his feet in nothing but his boxers and started scrolling through a selection of movies on the TV, though, he couldn’t quite manage to sink into the blissful detachment he so desperately craved. He shifted on the couch and glared at a movie synopsis without taking in any of the words there, a growing sense of frustration twisting through him.

It had already been two weeks and still his stomach was in knots, and he found himself swinging wildly from fits of aimless rage to bouts of queasy silence as Dick’s words reverberated through his head. Or rather, not his words, but his quiet.

And Jason hated himself for it because hadn’t he wanted this all along? To be free from the shadow of the bat? To assert himself as his own being with his own code? Hadn’t he personally waged war against them; wanted them dead?

How stupid to think a year and change of tenuous comradery might change any of that, might undo years of animus and at times outright violence between them.

They were right to keep him at arm’s length and expect him to be exactly what he had shown himself to be – a killer. It didn’t matter that it was because of them – because of Bruce’s inane code – that he hadn’t killed anyone in almost two years. Some things could not be undone. If anyone understood that, it ought to be him.

He glanced towards the linen closet in the hall where a duffel bag was crammed behind a couple towels and bed sheets. Inside was the new body armor he’d had Harper help him create. It was almost identical to what he usually wore, except this edition featured a brilliant red bat insignia across the chest. He’d been planning to start wearing soon.

He scoffed at himself.

He shouldn’t have been surprised. And maybe he wasn’t. But damn, if this didn’t still suck.

A ringtone went off, and Jason hopped up and made his way to the drawer in his kitchen where he kept his burners. He fumbled around before finding the dinky flip phone with a new message that simply said:

He’s out.

Jason sprinted into his room and emerged again in his Red Hood gear – the classic all black version – leaving a box of takeout and a scrolling screensaver on his TV as he slipped out the door.

The thick tires of his bike squealed against the asphalt as he tore around corners and down the still-sleeping streets of Gotham. Slowly, the store fronts, overpriced apartments, and new construction crumbled to ruins around him. Windows were replaced with graffitied plywood, buildings stood gaping and abandoned, some blackened with decades-old fire damage, others missing all together, just piles of rubble and garbage and overgrown weeds in empty spaces that reminded Jason of missing teeth. Even with the harvest moon drenching the city in pale light, these few blocks remained in shadow as if some invisible force hung overhead, blocking out the light.

Hood was headed for The Yards, a rougher part of town that reminded him of his old stomping grounds in Crime Alley. There were no trick or treaters out here. The few folks that walked the streets were mostly junkies and barflies and scantily clad girls. They noted him and offered nods of acknowledgement, unafraid.

He’d spent enough time in these parts now, that people who might typically shy away from cops knew that as long as they weren’t hurting anybody, he wasn’t going to bother them. It was a point of pride for him, that his reputation preceded him in that way; it made it easier for him to help the people who needed it most.

He pulled up in front of a defunct pizza shop and sauntered in through the boarded-up door, past the grimy tables and yawning brick oven, through the kitchen, and out the back door to the small alcove behind the restaurant lined with dumpsters and buzzing with the sounds of rodents and pests scurrying through trash.

A kid was sitting with his back against one of the dumpsters, a collection of glass bottles beside him. On the brick wall opposite him, Hood noted splatter stains over a glittering pile of broken glass. As if on cue, the kid picked up a bottle and flung it into the wall where it exploded in a spray of old beer and golden-brown shards.

Hood slipped off his helmet and tucked it under his arm so that he was only in his domino. A lot of the kids around here preferred when he stayed in the helmet. Some thought it was cool, but others, he could tell, found him easier to talk to that way. It was the eyes, he thought. There were certain things that were easier to admit aloud when you weren’t looking someone in the eyes.

This kid, though, was not one of them.

“Yo,” Hood said, walking over to slide down the side of the dumpster so that they were sitting side by side. Not touching, but close enough that a shift in weight, an adjusted leg could easily result in contact. This was another thing that not all kids around here liked – the physical closeness.

“Hey.” The boy didn’t look at him right away, instead waving his fingers over the bottles as he hunted for the next one to throw. He landed on a retro Coke and weighed the thick glass in his scrawny hands.

Hood watched him chuck it at the wall and grin at the explosion before asking, “How are things with you?”

Fry – that was what everyone called the kid around here; Hood had no idea why – shrugged, and his grin faded. Not into a frown, but a careful absence of expression. An absence that managed to say I’m fine and Please ask me what’s wrong and Please help all at once. It was the kind of look that Hood recognized too well; one he’d practiced in a mirror on more than one occasion when he was a kid, hoping someone would see it and understand.

They never did.

“Henry’s back,” Fry answered.

Hood already knew this. He had little informants all over this area; it was what the text had been about. But still he said, “Already? What about the trial?”

“He got bail.” Fry toyed with the neck of a new bottle, still not looking Hood in the eyes.

“And?”

Fry shrugged again, and Hood inwardly cursed the whole goddamn police department. It was a song he’d heard too many times before. Scumbag gets put away, makes bail, goes straight home, takes it out on the family, GCPD is nowhere to be found.

Stopping bank robbers and metas was easy. Those guys were loud and when they went away, they went away for a while. But this stuff, the villains who masqueraded as family men, as loving fathers and husbands – those were the real monsters. The masks they wore were more effective than any cowl or secret identity Hood had ever seen.

And it seemed that no matter how much time he spent talking with the kids in this area, working with them, trying clumsily to help them understand what to expect from social services and offering them numbers to some of his burners, he still felt like he wasn’t doing enough. There weren’t enough hours in the day, there wasn’t enough of him to singlehandedly pick up the pieces where the entire system was letting these kids – these families – down.

And God was it letting them down.

He wanted to get up right then. Every instinct in his body was screaming for justice, for revenge, and he wanted to go straight to Fry’s place and then to the GCPD to tell them to do their damn jobs and where they could find Henry’s body.

And maybe he should do that. It would be easier and more effective than anything the cops would do, and he felt now like he suddenly didn’t have anything to prove anymore. He was who he was, and if that made him the bad guy then so be it. A small price to pay in the grand scheme if that’s what it took to get things done.

As the rage swelled and Hood got ready to stand, he felt a small hand wrap around his. He looked, but Fry was staring away, his cheeks glistening in the orange glow from the light mounted above them on the brick wall.

And just like that, all of his restless fury melted into something dull and simmering, and Hood took a breath and tilted his head back against the grimy dumpster. “I’m sorry,” he sighed.

Fry shrugged again and sniffled. “What are you doing here anyway?” he asked, letting go of Hood’s hand to wipe his face.

“I can’t just come hang out with the coolest kid I know?”

Fry offered a shaky laugh. “Wanna try one?” He offered another Coke bottle and Hood took it.

With a quick flick of his wrist, he sent the bottle careening into the wall. Something about the motion reminded him of throwing a batarang – like muscle memory.

“Whoa!” Fry shouted. “That was a good one! Do it again!”

Fry shoved another bottle at Hood, and Hood chuckled as he launched it at the wall, the sharp crash mixing with the Fry’s delighted whoops.

And though Fry was now openly elated, there was still something in his face, a deep, unwavering kind of hurt.

It was the kind of pain that Hood knew would stay with the kid even if he managed to set Fry up with the best family in the best city tonight. Even if Hood made sure nothing bad ever happened to him again for the rest of his life, that wounded shadow would cling there, if only barely.

It was the mark of a kid who had experienced too much too soon, during those formative years. A kind of broken that could not be fixed, but instead was lived with, grown into, like a childhood birthmark or a scar.

It wasn’t the debilitating kind. He’d seen those kids too, the ones who were already so far gone, the scars so numerous and deep that it would take a miracle to reach them. Fry wasn’t there yet, and Hood just hoped he’d be able to help before he got there.

“So, no trick or treating, huh?” Hood asked. “What? Too good for candy or something?”

“Don’t have a costume. My mom said she would make me one but then…” His voice trailed off and he shrugged again.

Hood stared at him for a while then popped up, saying, “Wait right there,” before jogging back through the restaurant. He returned holding a leather jacket. This one was more casual than the one he wore on patrols; it lacked the sewn-in armor and additional slots for concealed weapons, but it matched his Red Hood jacket close enough.

“Stand up,” he said, and Fry obeyed, eyes wide. “Turn around.”

Fry turned and Hood slipped the jacket onto Fry’s small frame. It dangled off of him like a cloak and must have been fairly heavy judging by the slouch in Fry’s shoulders, but when he turned back around, he was beaming.

“Yeah,” Hood said, smiling and looking him up and down. “Now we’re getting somewhere. Oh–” He reached into his own jacket and pulled out a spare domino. “Put this on.”

Fry put it on, and the way his smile grew to encompass his entire face was almost cartoonish.

“Nice,” Hood said with a grin.

“I’m the Red Hood…?” he whispered. Then he looked up into Hood’s eyes. “I’m you?”

“Looks like it.” Hood breathed through the ache in his chest that made him want to change his mind and urge Fry to be somebody – anybody – else. A voice in his head moaned:

You don’t want to be me.

“So now for candy,” Hood continued. “I’m guessing there’s not much around here to work with.”

Fry shook his head.

“If you want, I can take you to one of the rich neighborhoods where they give out the good stuff. I’m talking king-sized name brands.”

“You’ll let me ride on your motorcycle?” Fry’s voice edged toward an eager shriek.

“Yeah, long as you promise not to make that sound again,” Hood laughed. “And that you won’t fall off,” he added.

Fry nodded vigorously as Hood clapped him on the back and steered him back through the kitchen saying, “Then let’s blow this joint.”

After they’d gotten on the bike and Fry had securely wrapped his arms around Hood’s mid-section, he asked, “Um, Hood…?”

“Yeah?”

“Will you… walk with me, too?”

Hood went still for a moment. His grip tightened on the handlebars as he turned around to smile, saying, “Well, duh. You think I’m gonna let you get all that candy to yourself?”

And Fry smiled, squeezing Hood’s torso even tighter and burying his face in the young man’s back as they roared down the street – slower, of course, than usual.

#batman fanfic #nightwing #jason todd #dick grayson #red hood #dick grayson and jason todd #dick grayson & jason todd #batman fanfiction

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