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scaryscarecrows · 3 years

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Are there alternative POVs to your Whumotober chapter 5, Where do you Think You're Going? I'd love to see what Bruce, Dick, or Jim had going through their head at the time.

Took some digging, but I found a little bit. Maybe one day I'll finish it...

Bruce, in true Bruce fashion, hears ‘Joker’s escaped’ and hurtles off into the night without so much as an ‘I’ll keep in touch’. Because he won’t. Because Batman is above such petty things as ‘communication’.

Dick’s not bitter at all. He promises.

Whatever. Bruce’s Bruce-ness means that Dick’s the one hanging around the asylum to deal with that fallout when Gordon’s voice goes panicked and he spits out, “Dove, you have to get outta there--”

Okay, that’s weird. One, Dove Marquis (that’s gotta be who’s on the other line, right) is usually at work, and Penguin’s been...quiet...lately. Dick needs to drop in on him, poke him a little for fun. But two, Dove’s usually not, like, in the line of fire. She does her job and goes home and minds her own business. If this is Joker-related (probably), there is literally no reason for him to be interested in her. Dove, like every other person with half a brain, avoids the clown at all costs.

“But--Dove. Dove, listen. Joker is out, he murdered his way out earlier tonight and that’s probably why, you need to go.”

Dick has never been more confused.

“For--fine. Fine. I’ll have someone over there as soon as possible, just--dammit.”

Gordon snaps his phone shut, looks around, and marches over to Dick.

“Nightwing,” he says, voice still freaked, “we may have a lead.”

“Commissioner?”

“I need you to go over to Dove Marquis’s apartment. Do you know where that is?”

Either he ruins the Bat-reputation of knowing everything, or he admits they’re all stalkers. There’s no winning here.

“Yes. Why?”

“Dove found Robin.”

The ground pitches under his feet. Jason’s been missing for months, and Joker...Joker’s been chatty about it. Dick had snapped the bastard’s arm the first time he started cackling about ‘so pretty when he screams’, but that hadn’t stopped him. Not even close.

Oh, God, Jay.

“You’re sure?” he demands, because he can’t do this, he can’t take many more false leads. “You’re positive?”

“That’s what she said, and I doubt there’s that many kids running around in a cape. Said she found him here--she had business for Penguin, I guess--”

“Robin?” Bullock’s suddenly there too, toothpick stilled between his teeth. “Dove’s got the kid?”

Dove. Jason. Joker.

Okay. Okay, okay. If he takes the bike off the island to the edge of town, he can take two shortcuts on the rooftops and be there in fifteen minutes, easy. Maybe even less, if he can catch the train.

* * *

The first thing he sees is the crowd in the street. The second thing he sees is the mangled corpse they’re gawking at. Paper-white skin, purple clothes, that godawful grin splitting the face even in death. The mask says he’s been shot several times, and when Dick looks up, he zeros in on a shattered window.

Jason--

“Batman,” he barks out, already firing his grapnel gun at the balcony he wants, “get to my location now.”

“What--”

He signs off. He does not need Bruce yapping in his ear, not right this minute. Joker’s dead. He’s just hoping Jason isn’t.

Mask says two people, one armed. Two alive people, though, and the unarmed one is small. So Dick throws manners out the window and bursts out of the bedroom.

Jay. He’s not. He…

Christ, he looks bad. Cut and bruised and broken and desperately thin, like he was at the start. But he’s alive, he’s breathing, and honestly, Dick had started to think…

He’s asleep, half on the couch and half on Dove, and wrapped in a big yellow comforter. She’s clearly cleaned him up at least some; that gash on his nose looks like it bled something awful.

“Nightwing.” Dove’s voice is rough. “Been a bit, kid.”

Yeah, he...hasn’t seen her since...geeze, since he got a haircut, at least. It’s been a while, all right.

“Did you…”

“Thought he had a gun. He was gonna come through the glass.” Jason shifts, shivering under the comforter. “His ankle’s messed up, an’ he’s sick.”

Better sick than dead.

“I. I’m just.” Keep it together, Dickie. “Little Wing?” He wants desperately to use his brother’s name; Robin is too...it’s too impersonal, right now. “Wake up.”

Jason, ever the stubborn little brat, does not. Dove moves and Dick catches the glint of a handgun. Little thing. If that’s what killed Joker--and he’s sure it is--it belongs in a museum.

Who knows. Maybe Penguin will do exactly that.

“Nightwing’s here to pick ya up, kiddo,” Dove’s saying now. “Wake up.”

Finally, finally, Jason’s eyes flutter open and he mumbles, “‘Wing?”

Oh, thank God.

“Hey, brat,” he says, crouches down to reach out to brush his fingers against Jason’s head. He is warm, but he’s real and here and alive. Everything else can come later. “Ready to go home?”

“Mm.”

“C’mon, I’m gonna pick you up. Please don’t bite me.”

It’s a valid concern. Last time Dick tried to pick up a sleepy Jason, he’d been chomped on hard enough to leave indents in his shoulder.

“Was one time. An’ you scared me.”

There is no biting when Dick carefully gets Jason into his arms and stands up. He’s lighter than he has any right to be, and now, up close, Dick can see new things. Track marks and finger-shaped bruises and evidence of broken things that haven’t healed right, or at all.

He’s only fifteen.

He looks so much younger.

“Thank you,” he says, and means it. If Joker...if he’d gotten him back, that would have been the end. They’d have found him, all right, dead. Dick’s been dealing with the Joker only a year and a half less than Bruce. He knows what he’s capable of, what he would have done. “Thank you for...for all of this.”

Now that he looks, she doesn’t look right, either. Her eyes are very far away.

“Get him home,” she says, and her voice is strong and solid. “It’s late. Jim’ll be here soon.”

Batman, too. Which is great, because Dick’s not balancing Jason on the bike. That’s just asking for trouble.

#ficlet #asks #jason todd #dick grayson #alternate pov

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longitudinalwaveme · 3 years

Text

Power Outage

The Flash stars in: Power Outage

Dramatis Personae

The Flash (Jay Garrick), the wise, benevolent hero of Central City

Joan Garrick, Jay’s intelligent, charming wife

Captain Cold, the earthy, practical leader of the Rogues and Central City’s worst villain

Golden Glider, a thrill-seeking, deceptively charming thief and little sister of the above

Weather Wizard, a lazy, dimwitted crook who works with Captain Cold

Script

Act I

(Enter Jay and Joan)

Joan: Honey, I’m worried about you.

Jay: Why? Any particular reason?

Joan: I don’t like how you’ve decided to protect Central City all by yourself while Barry and Wally go on vacation together for two weeks. You’re not as young as you used to be, you know, and I don’t want you to get hurt chasing down supervillains who are half your age.

Jay: Why didn’t you tell me that earlier, honey?

Joan: Well, Barry and Wally seemed so excited to be able to get away for awhile, and you seemed so happy to have a chance to come out of retirement, so I was afraid I would disappoint you if I said anything about it.

Jay: Joan, you know me better than that. Sure, I do love a little crime fighting, but that’s not nearly as important to me as you are. If I’d known that you were that worried about me, I would never have agreed to come out of retirement.

Joan: Well, it’s too late for you to change your mind now-Barry and Wally are already halfway to England, and you can’t leave the city unprotected.

Jay: I’ll be careful, Joan.

Joan: Oh, I know you will, dear. You couldn’t have survived this long as a hero if you hadn’t.

Jay: And you’re sure you’re okay if I go out?

Joan: I suppose. I just worry about you.

Jay: I know, and that’s why I’m so careful. I know that you’re waiting for me, so I can’t take any unnecessary risks. I can’t bear the idea of my dying and leaving you all alone.

Joan: Oh, Jay, I don’t worry about you because I don’t want to be alone-I worry about you because I don’t want you to be hurt.

Jay: Every hero risks that, Joan. It’s part of the job.

Joan: I know, but you’re just so athletic and you love to run. I’d hate to see you get injured and lose your ability to exercise.

Jay: Have I ever mentioned that I’m blessed to have you for my wife?

Joan: Every day, dear, every day-and I’m blessed to have you for my husband.

Jay: Thank you, darling. I love you so much.

Joan: I love you, too.

(Jay and Joan kiss, then Jay’s phone rings and he pulls it out)

Jay: Hello? Hello, Commissioner. Yes, I am filling in for Barry and Wally while they’re on vacation. Yes, I’ll be at work protecting the city soon. Mmm-hmm. Uh-huh. Yes, I’m sure I’m still up to the task. I may be old, but I’m as fast as ever. Oh, it’s no problem, Commissioner. I love Central City-I certainly don’t mind protecting it. Thanks, but that won’t be necessary. I don’t need any money. Mmm-hmm. Uh-huh. Tell your wife happy birthday for me. I’ll be sending her flowers soon. And send Officer Johnson my condolences. No one should lose their wife that way. Mm-hmm. Uh-huh. All right, Commissioner. I’ll be watching for them. Okay. Okay. Good-bye. (Jay puts phone away)

Joan: What did the Commissioner tell you?

Jay: He was just checking to make sure that I was ready to protect the city-and to warn me that Captain Cold broke the Golden Glider out of jail, and that they and the Weather Wizard are on the loose.

Joan: Captain Cold and Weather Wizard I remember, but who is Golden Glider?

Jay: If I recall correctly, her name is Lisa Snart. She’s a former ice skater who apparently got bored with her career and decided to turn to crime-and she’s Captain Cold’s little sister.

Joan: A supervillain who’s a woman? Why, I never!

Jay: Villany isn’t exclusively the department of men, you know.

Joan: I suppose that’s true. How dangerous are they?

Jay: It’s hard to say, but since Captain Cold likes to avoid attention, they’re unlikely to try anything too diabolical.

Joan: Well, that’s one good thing, I suppose.

Jay: Agreed. (Pause) Well, I’d better get going. Love you, Joan.

Joan: I love you, Jay. Good luck!

Jay: Thank you. Good-bye, dear.

Joan: Good-bye, darling. (Exit Jay) I hope Jay knows what he’s getting into. He’s been retired for a long time, and those villains are young enough to be our children. If he gets himself into trouble, I’ll never forgive myself. (Pause) Well, standing around here and worrying isn’t going to change a thing, so I might as well start making some plans of my own!

Act II

(Enter Captain Cold and Golden Glider. Weather Wizard is asleep onstage, and a doll and a large necklace are sitting next to him)

Cold: Stop trying to peek, sis. You’ll ruin the surprise!

Glider: I’m not peeking!

Cold: Oh, what the heck, go ahead and look.

Glider: (Sees presents) Oh my gosh! Lenny, you didn’t!

Cold: Happy birthday, sis.

Glider: (grabs the necklace) How did you afford this? It’s beautiful!

Cold: Uh….about that….

Glider: You stole it for me, didn’t you?

Cold: No! I robbed a bank and used the money to buy it.

Glider: How come the Flash didn’t stop you?

Cold: I got lucky, I guess.

Glider: (Picks up doll) And what would this be? Cold: You don’t recognize that?

Glider: No. Am I supposed to?

Cold: Seriously? You asked for that for your birthday and Christmas like every year!

Glider: I did?

Cold: Uh-huh. Don’t you remember? When I couldn’t find it for your sixth birthday, you cried for like ten minutes and then Lewis beat the living daylights out of both of us because you woke him up.

Glider: Lewis beat the living daylights out of us on like every one of my birthdays. That doesn’t narrow things down much.

Cold: It’s still got the tag on it. Maybe that’ll help you remember.

Glider: (Reads) “Lucy”. (Pause; laughs) Lucy? The doll I was obsessed with as a kid? But she went off the shelves when I was eight years old. How did you find this one?

Cold: Well, I’ve been scouring garage sales and thrift stores and stuff for the thing around your birthday every year since you were eight. The odds were in favor of me finding one eventually, especially given how popular the thing was when you were little, and I finally found this one two weeks ago at that creepy Goodwill downtown.

Glider: Are you telling me that you’ve been trying to find this doll for me for 25 years ?

Cold: Of course. Given how much misery the stupid thing caused for both of us, I couldn’t’ve lived with myself if I hadn’t.

Glider: So even though, in the same general time period, you’ve given me 4 different cars, several dozen necklaces, and several thousand dollars in cash, you still felt obligated to get me a doll that I wanted when I was eight just because you couldn’t get me it then?

Cold: Well, yeah. Don’t you remember that I promised you I would get it for you someday?

Glider: Vaguely.

Cold: Well, I finally did! Don’t you like it?

Glider: No. (Cold looks upset, then she hugs him) But I do like you, Lenny. I’m glad you think so much about me. You’re the best big brother in the world.

Cold: Okay, enough with the mushy stuff. I didn’t break you out of prison just to celebrate your birthday, you know.

Glider: Ooh, do you have a heist planned?

Cold: You’d better believe it, sis.

Glider: Hurrah! This day just keeps getting better and better! What’s the angle?

Cold: I’ll tell you as soon as I wake up Mardon.

Glider: What’s he doing here? Didn’t he win the lottery or something?

Cold: He did, but now he’s broke-again-and needs a place to stay. Again.

Glider: There’s a shock.

Cold: (To Wizard) Yo, Mardon, look alive! We’ve got a job to pull! (Wizard doesn’t respond. Cold throws a pillow at his head)

Wizard: What time is it?

Cold: It’s two in the afternoon, you lazy bum. Get up- we’ve got a job to do.

Wizard: But I’m still tired, Cold! I just spent two weeks without a roof over my head!

Cold: Yeah, because you spent all your cash on parties, gambling, and cars you couldn’t afford. Again.

Wizard: I was doing it to impress my new friends!

Cold: The friends who skipped town as soon as you ran out of money?

Wizard: Yeah.

Cold: I rest my case. Honestly, Mardon, why I bother to keep you around is beyond me.

Wizard: Because of my charming personality and dashing good looks?

Glider: Definitely not that.

Cold: It’s because you have a wand that can control the weather, you doofus!

Wizard: Uh, about that. I may have accidentally kind of broken the wand a couple days ago.

Cold: HOW?

Wizard: Well, I was robbing a gas station when the thunderstorm I created to short out the power grid got a little out of control. I got struck by my own lightning, and the wand flew out of my hand and into a tree and snapped in half. And, uh, I didn’t even actually manage to rob the gas station, because when the wand broke, the thunderstorm cleared up before it could take out the power. Well, that and I was still recovering from the whole getting struck by lightning thing. So yeah. No more weather powers.

Cold: Can’t you just-you know-fix the wand?

Wizard: No. I don’t know how it works!

Cold: What do you mean you don’t know how it works? You’ve been using it for like 14 years!

Wizard: I stole it from Clyde, remember? He’s the one who built it! I don’t have a clue how he made it or how it actually produces its effects- I just know it works. Er, worked.

Cold: Clyde?

Wizard: You know, Clyde! My older brother who was better than me at everything!

Cold: Okay, then we’ll just ask him to fix it.

Wizard: We can’t. He’s dead, and he was kind of a recluse, so it’s not like he had any partners who were watching him build the thing.

Cold: Are you telling me that your wand is permanently broken?

Wizard: Yeah, that’s what I’m telling you.

Cold: Well, that’s just great. Now I’m going to have to change my plans, and it’s all because the man who had the most powerful weapon in the world was enough of a brain-dead moron to both never learn how the thing worked and to break it!

Glider: And on his little sister’s birthday, too!

Cold: Yeah, and on her birthday, too!

Wizard: Sorry?

Cold: You know what? If you don’t have your wand, then you’re useless to me.

Wizard: You’re kicking me out?

Cold: Not yet. You’re one of us, after all-but you aren’t getting a cent from our heists until you figure out a way to either fix the wand or provide some other asset to them, and if you can’t do that in a month, then you’ll have to find someone else’s basement to live in. I ain’t running no charity here, Mardon.

Wizard: Are you saying I’m not a good thief without my wand?

Cold: No, I’m saying that you were a mediocre thief with the wand and that you are a terrible one without it. Powers or no powers, you’re pathetic.

Wizard: Nobody talks to the Weather Wizard like that! Nobody! (Punches at Cold. Cold catches his punch, and then Glider knees Wizard in the abdomen. Wizard falls to the ground and Cold “freezes” his left leg to the ground with his gun.)

Cold: Well, maybe no one talks to the Weather Wizard like that, but until or if you fix the wand, you aren’t the Weather Wizard, you’re just Mark Mardon.

Glider: And we can talk to an idiot like Mark like that all we want.

Cold: See you after the heist, loser.

(Exit both)

Wizard: (Breaks ice on leg and sits up) How can this be happening to me? A month ago, I was a millionaire and the most powerful crook in the world, and now look at me. I’m broke and my wand is broke and now Cold says I ain’t even the Weather Wizard anymore. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was right about me bein’ a pathetic idiot. (Pause) Oh, who am I kidding? They’re right. Without the wand, I’m nothin’ more than stupid, pathetic Mark Mardon. (Pause) I need a drink or something. Anything would be better than sitting around thinking about how bad my luck’s been lately-or working to try and fix the wand!

Act III

(Wizard is sitting at the bar of a restaurant. Enter Joan)

Joan: Nothing like a nice cup of coffee to take my mind off my worries. (To Weather Wizard) Excuse me, sir, but is this seat taken?

Wizard: Huh?

Joan: I was wondering if this seat was taken.

Wizard: It’s not.

Joan: All right, then. (Sits down next to him) I’m Joan Garrick. Who are you?

Wizard: Name’s Mark. Mark Mardon.

Joan: Are you here by yourself?

Wizard: Yeah. You?

Joan: Well, I normally come here with my husband, but today I’m alone, too.

Wizard: Why? You have a fight with him or something?

Joan: No. He’s just filling in for some friends at work today.

Wizard: Are all your other friends busy, too?

Joan: No. As a matter of fact, after I eat lunch here, I’m going to my friend Betsy’s house to help her sew some clothing for her latest grandchild.

Wizard: Boy or girl?

Joan: Girl. Her name is Maria, and she’s only a month old.

Wizard: Is she cute?

Joan: All babies are cute, Mr. Mardon-just like all brides are beautiful.

Wizard: Not according to my baby pictures!

Joan: Oh, hush! (Pause) So, why are you here alone?

Wizard: Trust me, it’s not by choice. I can’t stand being alone without my power.

Joan: Have you fallen on hard times, then?

Wizard: Yeah. I’m pretty much broke, and my friends have made it pretty clear that they won’t give me any money until I can help them, which I can’t.

Joan: Are you sure these people are your friends?

Wizard: (Shrugs) They haven’t kicked me to the curb yet.

Joan: Don’t you have your own home?

Wizard: Not any more!

Joan: Oh, dear, you are in a mess, aren’t you?

Wizard: No duh, lady.

Joan: Is there anything I can do to help?

Wizard: Not unless you’re a millionaire.

Joan: No such luck, I’m afraid.

Wizard: Too bad. I could use that money. (Pause) You always start conversations with random strangers in restaurants?

Joan: No. You just seemed to need some company, and since I was alone, I decided to provide it.

Wizard: Why? There’s nothing all that special about me-at least not the way I am now.

Joan: Because I know how it feels to be lonely. My husband is wonderful, but he’s also very busy, so I spent a lot of time by myself before he retired.

Wizard: Why do you love him so much if he spends so much time away from you?

Joan: Because he’s a good man who sacrifices himself for me. The least I can do is make sacrifices for him in return. After all, a big part of love is being willing to sacrifice your own desires for the people that you love.

Wizard: That sounds like an awful lot of work, lady.

Joan: Sometimes it can feel like it, I’m afraid-but it’s worth it to experience genuine love.

Wizard: I think I’ll pass.

Joan: How can you say that? Haven’t you ever loved anyone?

Wizard: No-and no one’s ever loved me, either, except maybe my older brother, Clyde-and that was only ‘cause he felt bad for me.

Joan: Felt bad for you-why?

Wizard: Because I was a lazy bum right from the start, that’s why. No ambition-not that there would’ve been much of a point in trying, what with Clyde bein’ a genius and a great athlete and all. Even if I had decided to try, Mom and Pop would’ve liked him better, ‘cause I never coulda been as good as he was. The only thing I was ever good at was getting lucky.

Joan: You sound almost proud of yourself for that!

Wizard: Well, it beats feeling terrible about myself.

Joan: Not if it keeps you from improving yourself.

Wizard: Now you sound like Clyde.

Joan: Well, in that case, I would suggest that you listen to your brother on occasion.

Wizard: I can’t. He’s dead now.

Joan: Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.

Wizard: Don’t be. It was a while ago, and I was never real close to him anyway. He was too perfect.

Joan: Aren’t you close to anyone?

Wizard: No one I don’t work with.

Joan: Well, if you don’t mind, I plan to fix that.

Wizard: But you don’t know anything about me!

Joan: I know that you have a dead brother, some questionable friends, and a somewhat self-destructive lifestyle.

Wizard: Oh, believe me, you don’t know the half of it.

Joan: And I won’t pry. Are you up for continuing the conversation?

Wizard: I guess. (Pause) You are the weirdest woman I’ve ever met.

Joan: I know-but I’d like to think I make decent company anyway.

Wizard: You’re better company than my partners, at least.

Joan: That’s always nice to hear. So, is there anything you particularly like to eat?

Act IV

(Enter Cold and Glider)

Cold: Okay, sis, I’ve taken out the alarms. Are you ready for the biggest heist of our career?

Glider: You bet, Lenny! This is so exciting!

Cold: And you’re sure you’re not mad about us doing this on your birthday?

Glider: Of course not! In fact, I can’t think of a way I’d rather be spending my day.

Cold: (Aside) I could think of several ways I’d rather see her spending her day, but if this makes her happy, I can’t refuse her. (To Glider) I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself. Now let’s move!

(Enter Jay Garrick)

Jay: Stop in the name of the law!

Cold: Well, well, well. Look who it is. It’s Grandpa Flash. Aren’t you retired?

Jay: As long as criminals like you are roaming the streets, I’ll never be truly retired.

Glider: Wow. You sound like a really bad Saturday morning cartoon show.

Jay: Perhaps that line was a bit hackneyed, but then again, so are supervillainous bank robberies. It’s not like the two of you invented that idea, you know.

Glider: No, we just perfected it.

Jay: I’ll give you one chance to surrender peacefully.

Cold: And I’ll give you the same chance, Grandpa Flash. I don’t particularly want to beat up an old man like you.

Jay: Old or not, I would never surrender to a criminal.

Glider: Okay then, Grandpa-let’s dance!

(Starts “skating” around him)

Jay: (Knocks her down) I don’t dance with anyone but Joan, miss.

Cold: Leave her alone, old man! (Shoots at Jay and misses)

Jay: You’re good, son. It’s quite a pity you decided to waste your talents on crime.

Cold: Don’t call me son! (Shoots wildly and misses badly)

Glider: (Gets back on her feet and tries to hit Jay from behind, but he catches her punch) Let me go, you old geezer!

Jay: Sorry, daughter. I’m afraid that’s a no can do. You’ve violated the laws of our fair nation, and you must pay the penalty for your actions.

Glider: (Aside) Is this guy for real? (Breaks Jay’s hold) Only if you can keep ahold of me! (Captain Cold finally manages to hit Jay while Jay is attempting to recapture his sister)

Jay: Nice try, son, but I’ve gotten out of worse traps than this before! (He breaks free)

Cold: DON’T CALL ME SON! (Starts shooting wildly again as Glider begins to enter the bank)

Jay: (Dodges Cold’s blasts and grabs Glider) Oh, no, you don’t, child.

Glider: (Steps on his foot; Jay screams and releases her) Oh, yes, I do.

Jay: (Aside) As much as I hate to admit it, Joan’s worries may be more valid than I wanted to admit. These younger villains are wearing me down pretty well. (Manages to grab the Glider again, only for both to be hit by a wild shot from Cold, who runs over and smashes the ice around his sister. Jay vibrates free a few seconds later, but both villains have moved out of his way in the meantime)

Glider: (Aside to Cold) How is it possible that this old guy is harder to fight than the other two?

Cold: (Aside to Glider) Never mind that-just get into the bank! (He starts shooting again and Glider moves towards the bank, only to be stopped for the second time by our hero. Cold stops shooting when this happens to avoid hitting his sister again)

Glider: We’ve got to stop meeting like this, Grandpa.

Jay: Well, if all goes as planned, child, you won’t be meeting me for several years.

Glider: Why do you keep calling me child? I’m your enemy, not some dopey little kid.

Jay: Force of habit, I’m afraid. After all, you and your brother are young enough to be my children-though I would have raised my children to have better manners.

Cold: SHUT UP, FLASH! (He rushes at Jay, who dodges him, manages to keep a hold on Glider, and then handcuffs both of them)

Glider: Well, this is turning out to be a lousy birthday!

Jay: It’s your birthday?

Glider: Yeah.

Jay: Then I am sorry that you and your brother were foolish enough to break the law on it, child.

Cold: Stop calling her that.

Jay: Why? It’s not an insult.

Cold: It’s what Lewis used to call her. If that’s not an insult, I don’t know what is.

Jay: Who?

Cold: Our “father”. He treated us like trash. If that’s being someone’s child, I’d rather die.

Jay: (Aside) So that’s why he kept-pardon the horrible pun-losing his cool. When I called him son, it seems I was bringing back some ugly memories. (To Cold) Very well, then. I’ll stop calling her child.

Cold: Good. No one upsets my baby sister.

Glider: Before you take me away, old man, would you mind bringing me something real quick? It was the best birthday present I’ve ever gotten.

Jay: I’m afraid I don’t trust you two enough to leave you alone here. If you want to see it, I’ll have to take you with me.

Glider: (Aside) Well, it was worth a shot- and I do want to see it. (To Jay) Okay, that works. The gift’s in our hideout on Seventh and Main.

(Cut to hideout)

Jay: Which one is it?

Glider: The doll. (Jay hands it to her)

Cold: But I thought you said you didn’t like it!

Glider: Lenny, she isn’t the present-the fact that you spent 25 years looking for her is. Having a brother like you was the best present of all.

Cold: Aww, shucks. It was nothing, sis.

Jay: Now who sounds like a bad TV show?

Glider: It’s still you, gramps.

Jay: Unfortunately for the two of you, you still have quite a debt to pay to society. Let’s get you back where you belong.

Act V

(Joan and Wizard are still sitting at the counter. Joan has a cup of coffee now)

Wizard: And then I got a concussion.

Joan: (Aside) Well, one thing’s for sure: this fellow wasn’t kidding when he said that I didn’t know the half of his self-destructive lifestyle! In fact, I’m slightly surprised he’s still alive. (To Wizard) And this was before you dropped out of high school?

Wizard: Two weeks after, actually.

Joan: I’m starting to think you might need more help than I can give you, Mr. Mardon.

Wizard: Told you. (Pause) And just call me Mark.

Joan: Well, Mark, have you ever considered seeing a counselor?

Wizard: You mean a shrink? No way, lady. I’m stupid, not crazy.

Joan: Going to a counselor doesn’t mean you’re crazy. In fact, a lot of the time, it means that you’re smart enough to realize that you need help to change.

Wizard: Who said I wanted to change?

Joan: No one-but by your own testimony, you’re responsible for the mess you’re in right now, and nothing will get better for you until you decide to change your life.

Wizard: Seriously, are you sure you never met Clyde? Because you sound just like him.

(Enter Jay)

Jay: Hello, Joan.

Joan: Hello, sweetheart. What a pleasant surprise!

Jay: Well, I already recaptured Captain Cold and the Golden Glider, so I decided to stop by and visit my lovely wife.

Joan: Oh, Jay, stop flattering me.

Wizard: Your husband is the Flash?

Joan: Oh, I can’t believe I forgot to mention that! Mark, this is my husband, Jay Garrick, the first Flash. Jay, this is Mark Mardon. He and I have been having a little chat.

Jay: Joan, get away from him-now!

Joan: Why? He’s not bothering me.

Jay: Joan, Mark Mardon is the Weather Wizard!

Joan: You’re a supervillain?

Wizard: Yeah.

Joan: When were you planning on mentioning that fact?

Wizard: Well, I wasn’t planning on mentioning it at all, because I assumed that you knew who I was. Although, now that I think about it, your not knowing would explain why you didn’t freak out when you saw me. (Pause) No hard feelings, right?

Joan: I’m not sure what I’m feeling, honestly.

Jay: How long have you been here together?

Joan: About an hour, I think.

Jay: And you never recognized him?

Wizard: Well, in her defense, I’m out of costume and you and I haven’t fought much. There wasn’t all that much of a reason for her to recognize me without my gear.

Jay: And you didn’t realize that she was my wife?

Wizard: Nope. In fact, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen her before.

Jay: Son, if I find out that you’re lying about that and this was a plan to kidnap her or something, you will regret it.

Wizard: Kidnap her? Why? I don’t hate you nearly enough to do something like that-and besides, I’d have to be crazy to kidnap her now. My wand’s been broken for a week, and I can’t fix it, so I’d have to have a death wish to make you angry at me.

Jay: You can’t control the weather any more?

Wizard: Sadly, no-and that means that you won’t be hearing from the Weather Wizard again. Without the wand, I don’t have the talent to be a supervillain, and if word got out that one of the Rogues was back to picking pockets, I’d be the joke of the underworld. I’d rather quit crime than go through that sort of humiliation.

Joan: Well, while I certainly don’t admire your reasoning, I’d say that quitting crime is the best life decision you’ve ever made, Mark. At the very least, it’ll certainly make the city safer.

Wizard: Okay, so now what happens?

Jay: I don’t know. That would depend on whether you’ve committed a crime since you got out on parole four months ago.

Wizard: Why would I tell you if I had?

Joan: Because if you do, he’ll be a lot less angry than if you lie to him and he finds out later.

Wizard: You make a good point, lady. (To Jay) I tried to rob a gas station by knocking out the power, but before I could actually knock out the power or do anything, I got struck by lightning and my wand broke, so I didn’t actually try to steal anything. Is that attempted robbery?

Jay: I’m afraid we’ll have to let a jury decide that, son.

Wizard: And since I don’t have my weather wand, I ain’t about to get humiliated by trying to escape from a guy with super speed and then failing.

Joan: You know, for a man with such limited common sense, it’s amazing how practical you can be when it helps you save face.

Wizard: Well, considering I already lost a million dollars and my powers, I’ve kinda had my fill of being laughed at and called an idiot for the year.

Joan: So, you can change after all.

Wizard: (Shakes head) Lady, you’re something else. I’m not sure if it’s a good something else or a stupid something else, but you’re something else.

Jay: All right, son, time to go.

Wizard: (To Joan) See you around, lady. It was nice talking to you.

Joan: I suppose I’m glad you appreciated it. Good-bye, Mark.

(Jay exits with Wizard, then returns)

Jay: Are you alright, Joan?

Joan: Yes, I’m fine. He didn’t really do anything to hurt me, after all.

Jay: Oh, thank goodness. If he’d hurt you, I’d never forgive myself.

Joan: See, now you know how I feel!

Jay: Why, Joan, I think you’re right!

Joan: Have I ever mentioned that I love you?

Jay: I’m not sure. You know how our memories get at our age.

Joan: (Laughs) Well, then, Jay, I love you more than you can imagine.

Jay: And I love you to the moon and back.

(They kiss)

Joan: Oh, that reminds me-I need to go to Betsy’s house! My, I can’t imagine what she’ll think when I tell her that I had coffee with a supervillain!

Jay: The same thing that I do: that you’re the bravest, kindest woman on the face of the Earth. (Pause) Do you want me to take you to her house before I go back on patrol?

Joan: Oh, of course!

Jay: Then your chariot awaits you, my lady.

Joan: Oh, Jay, that’s so cheesy!

#jay garrick #flash rogues #dc comics #fanfic

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theimpossiblescheme · 5 years

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“Where do you come from, where do you go? What is your scene, baby, we just gotta know!”

I said I was gonna make an appreciation post for Yvonne Craig’s ’66 Batgirl, so… here she is, Barbara Gordon, that Dominoed Dare-Doll out to strike at the heart of crime!

The network wanted to introduce Barbara Gordon to the show almost immediately after her “Million-Dollar Debut” in the comics, and being renewed for a third season gave them the perfect opportunity. After airing a short presentation to introduce the character, featuring Babs in a much pointier mask fighting off Killer Moth and his goons, they were given the green light to properly usher her into the show. The rest, of course, is network television history; and while a lot of people can agree that the third season of the show was largely a series of missteps, Batgirl was definitely not one of them.

What makes Babs so interesting in this show is that she’s the perfect demonstration of how femininity and badassery don’t have to be mutually exclusive. She’s naturally a very warm, charming, and eminently helpful person who goes out of her way to look after her family and her community. She’s a bookworm who works at the Gotham City library and studied almost every subject. She’s very much a daddy’s girl who almost never fights with her father and regularly invites him over to watch TV with her. She loves to cook and entertain guests. She loves classical music and museums of all kinds. She dresses like Jackie Kennedy at a thrift shop. She loves to surf and swim and has a thing for charming jocks. She keeps a gorgeous apartment full of trinkets and vintage furniture with a little parakeet named Charlie to keep her company. And she visibly wears striking eye makeup even under her Batgirl cowl.

For God’s sake, her Batgirl motorcycle has ruffles on it!

But absolutely none of that takes away from what a devastatingly competent crimefighter she is. In fact, she uses her reputation as an underestimated Girly-Girl ™ to her best advantage, similar to the way Babs does in Batgirl: Year One. People tend to not pay her any mind because she’s a girl who can’t possibly do anything interesting in her spare time? Gives her plenty of time to build her own Batgirl Cave in the back room of her apartment, complete with a revolving wall for ease of access to her costume station, an early computer and switchboard with a Lucite screen, a forensic chemistry set, and an elevator lift for her motorcycle!

People expect her to be soft and meek? Perfect opportunity to take people by surprise by scaring them out of her apartment, even out of costume, and fully turn the tables on them as Batgirl, the fierce bruiser who loves nothing more than a sharp verbal takedown followed by a good scrap! Punching isn’t a ladylike thing to do? No rule saying you can’t ballet-kick their noses up into their brains and grab the nearest blunt object to use as an improvised weapon!

Woman crimefighters aren’t expected to be as clever as the Dynamic Duo? Time to surprise everyone by using common sense and book smarts to solve cases instead of Bat-Deduction and breaking out of deathtraps by being genuinely resourceful rather than relying on deus ex machina (she does get the occasional assist, but this girl freed herself from self-tightening garotte wire. That counts for something.)!

Every time someone on the show tries to sell her short, she gets around to proving them wrong within seconds, and it’s the most satisfying thing to see. Her biggest flaws as Batgirl were that she could be a little too rough and sometimes unintentionally cruel (such as the time she sprayed Louie the Lilac with sentient rot because she thought he was just bluffing). But with time and experience she learned better and continued to improve as Gotham’s newest protector—a job she took very seriously, but still had a sense of humor about.

Interestingly, in her first couple of appearances, Babs seemed to be very aware of the fact that people were going to end up comparing her to Batman and Robin, and it manifested in a rather competitive spirit. She constantly kept secrets from them, even ones that pertained to the case they were working on, and she would even hide evidence from them so she could have the satisfaction of busting the bad guy first. They didn’t seem to trust her on principle at first, especially Batman, who believed that it was in women’s nature to try to outdo men in everything (holy sexism, ya douchecanoe); and she apparently decided that it wasn’t worth the effort to change their minds. When they asked her about where she got her information, she would be deliberately vague and mention things like tarot cards and tea leaves—“all part of a woman crimefighter’s arsenal”—as a sort of Take That against them. And at the end of almost every episode, she would disappear without a trace while their backs were turned, making them wonder where the hell she could have gone. Eventually the three came to trust each other much more and fall into an easier and more cheerful rapport, but she would still disappear on them when the job was done.

One of the biggest shakeups on the show was that the member of the original “Batfamily” she was closest to was none other than Alfred! He was the first to stumble upon her secret identity, and she made him swear to secrecy “as a gentleman’s gentleman.” And he kept his word and continued to serve as her confidante, meeting with her in secret when she didn’t know if she could trust Batman. Every opportunity there was to help Babs, Alfred took it, no matter what, whether it was freeing her from a particularly tricky trap or helping her track a criminal across Gotham. The two of them quickly developed a really adorable familial relationship based on mutual trust and affection, and you could tell how fond of each other Yvonne Craig and Alan Napier must have been.

The one vastly different addition you could possibly quibble with about this Babs is that there’s this rather aggressive effort to try to pair her up with Bruce. Her father is very in favor of the idea of the two settling down together (even though Babs is fresh out of college and Bruce is at least in his late thirties). And while Babs thinks Bruce is a nice enough guy, all of their “dates” end up being rather awkward since Bruce is a colossal dork out of costume, and she honestly just finds him a bit boring. Besides, “he’s no Batman.” She has a rather thinly disguised hero-crush on Batman and often wonders who he is under the mask—one can only imagine her reaction to finding out it’s the same guy who would rather watch the news in the back of his limo than talk to her. The attempt at shipping is there, but it never really goes anywhere, so… dodged a bullet there.

And in case anyone is wondering about her and Dick, while they aren’t romantically interested in each other at all, they do make a fantastic team and seem to view each other as brother and sister or at least good friends. There are entire subplots of episodes where the two team up to save Batman’s bacon, and it’s glorious.

All in all, Yvonne Craig—once a dancer for the Ballet Russe and then a character actress who’d performed opposite Perry Mason and Elvis Presley—gave the world one of the defining heroines of the 1960s. One who never stayed a damsel in distress for long and was spunky, witty, rebellious, kindhearted, determined, free-spirited, and more than capable of holding her own with the boys. If anyone remembers anything about the third season of Batman, it’s Batgirl in all her purple glory, and her legacy has endured for so long that even Gail Simone has gone on record saying that when she writes Barbara Gordon, it’s Craig’s voice she imagines.

Unfortunately, Batman’s third season would be its last; even with hopes for a fourth season on the horizon, the destruction of the sets meant that the Terrific Trio would never set forth again on the small screen. Fortunately, though, this wouldn’t be the end of this Batgirl—she was given another chance in cartoon and comic book form!

In The New Adventures of Batman, she takes on Catwoman to clear her own name from the taint of crime, singlehandedly rescues Robin from both the Joker’s and the Riddler’s henchmen with nothing but brute force, and adds a whole new passel of gadgets to her utility belt, including her own grappling hook gun and a makeup compact that conceals pocket sand she can use to blind her assailants.

In the recent Batman ’66 standalone comics, she gets to help Batman face off against Lord Death Man in Japan, takes on the Joker and Catwoman multiple times, helps free her father from Bane’s clutches, outwits all of the Big Four through simple office politics out of costume, and singlehandedly fends off the Bookworm and Queen Cleopatra with ingenuity and a good pimp slap respectively.

In Batman ’66 Meets the Man From U.N.C.L.E., she battles Poison Ivy’s plant goons (accidentally decapitating one of them with a single kick) travels with the Dynamic Duo, Napolean, and Illya to Monte Carlo to face off against Hugo Strange and his new international crime syndicate, and almost throws hands with Strange all by herself.

In Batman ’66 Meets Wonder Woman ’77, she graduates from Batgirl to Batwoman (Kate Kane’s initial appearance never caught on, it would seem) and takes her place as the new police commissioner of Gotham City after her father retires.

And most recently, in Archie Meets Batman ’66, she and Dick Grayson go undercover as transfer students to help flush out the new supervillain threat plaguing Riverdale and its students, facing off against the Joker and Catwoman in particular so far while dealing with the rabid crushes Archie and Betty have on them.

And as long as people still show an interest in this iteration of Babs, there will probably be more content still to come. Not gonna lie, this is my favorite version of Barbara Gordon in any medium—I love her personality, her approach to challenges, her fighting style, her relationships with the rest of the cast, and even her costume. Maybe one day, in a new Batman ’66 comic, we’ll get to see more of a supporting cast for her—bring in Cassandra Cain, Stephanie Brown, Frankie Charles, Jason Bard, and all of the characters we’ve come to know and love from the greater DC canon! Hell, even better, give her a chance to become Oracle and pave the way for new Batgirls inspired by the good she’s done for Gotham! But for now, we should all take the opportunity to appreciate the most iconic Barbara Gordon and the legacy she left behind.

Before I go, I thought I’d leave you guys with a snippet from the Man From U.N.C.L.E. crossover comic that I think best encapsulates this Batgirl and why she does what she does. If ever Barbara Gordon had a mission statement, this is it, and I can never commend the comics enough for recognizing what makes her so special.

#dc #batman 66 #barbara gordon #the schemer speaks #I had this in me for a long time and I had to get it out.#I love her so much you guys have no idea--you could not ask for a more perfect Barbara Gordon outside of 'Birds of Prey.' <3

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burning-up-ao3 · 5 years

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20 Penguins Thoughts: Teammates' concern for Patric Hornqvist is real

January 15, 2019 8:17 AMBy Jason Mackey / Pittsburgh Post-Gazette

SAN JOSE, Calif. — It’s a text message that Kris Letang doesn’t want to send.

Not because he doesn’t care — he does.

More how he knows it’ll be received.

But like many Penguins who’ve experienced multiple concussions, Letang knows exactly what Patric Hornqvist, who’s had five of them since December 2014, is going through. And Letang, while he cares an awful lot, doesn’t want to be burdensome.

“I’ve been through that,” Letang said. “The last thing I wanted was everybody texting me. That’s why I try to leave him alone. If you’re too [in his face], he might feel like he has to come back quicker. He might not make a good decision.”

Injuries in contact sports are inevitable. Even ones to your brain.

“It’s part of our sport,” Letang said. “We know what we signed up for.”

But with yet another one happening to Hornqvist, something has become clear when discussing the situation with his teammates: This isn’t the same as someone recovering from a knee injury or even his first or second concussion; Penguins players are genuinely concerned about Hornqvist’s head.

“When it’s a good friend and someone we all love and is important to us, you worry about it,” Matt Cullen said. “The positive is we have some pretty good people in place as far as taking your time off and allowing things to heal up and doing the best you can to control those things. Aside from that, we all just hope he’s alright.”

2. Hornqvist, who was concussed last Tuesday against the Panthers, has been skating on his own back in Pittsburgh, which is obviously a good sign.

While the Penguins look forward to getting Hornqvist back, they also don’t want him to rush anything, for fear that he comes back too soon and jeopardizes his long-term health.

“You have to be careful,” Sidney Crosby said. “He has to make sure he’s ready when he comes back.

“He’s been smart about it, though. Especially the way he plays and how tough he plays, he has to make sure he’s feeling good.”

There’s a pretty good reason Hornqvist should take this slow, too.

Actually a couple of them.

“He’s got a family and kids (daughters Isabella and Vendela),” Cullen said. “That’s the first thing that you worry about for him. … Our thoughts are all with him, that’s for sure.”

Mostly, the Penguins just want Hornqvist to be able to be himself again.

“He’s a heart-and-soul guy,” Cullen said. “He’s one of the most important guys in this room as far as keeping the team on the right track. He just brings so much life and energy to our group. He’s one of those guys that makes it really fun for all of us. It’s a lot different when he’s not here.”

3. The other thing area of concern — and this is probably more outside of the Penguins dressing room than inside of it — is Hornqvist’s style of play.

The same rough-and-tumble style that has made Hornqvist so good at what he does — enough for 20 or more goals in every full season he’s played and a $5.3-million-a-year contract through 2023 — is the same one that doesn’t age well.

When Hornqvist does come back, it’s easy to say that he should change. For his own health and career, sure, but also for his family. But can he? Crosby thinks that will be tough.

“You can’t adjust to a puck in the face,” Crosby said, referencing what caused Hornqvist’s latest concussion. “What are you going to do? He had one off his head in warmup. They’re fluke things.”

Which, again, is why Crosby doesn’t think Hornqvist can or will change his game whenever he does get back.

“He only knows one way to play,” Crosby said. “That’s the way he plays the game. Sometimes those things can happen. The way he competes and the way he plays, I don’t see him changing that.”

4. Hornqvist has said repeatedly that he’s not going to change his game, often reasoning that he can’t or he’ll be out of the league.

It sounds harsh, but Letang understands where Hornqvist is coming from.

The Penguins asked Letang to change his game last season — OK, tweak — to take fewer dangerous hits, but it wound up being one of the things that contributed to an off-year for him in 2017-18.

“You can’t really change your game, honestly,” Letang said. “Certain players have played their whole life like that. That’s why they have those contracts and why they’ve had so much success. If you change that, you might become ineffective.”

5. I hope Hornqvist can do something. For his health and for his family.

Staying objective as a reporter is one thing, but you root for everybody — player or not — to avoid serious brain injuries.

As Cullen said on concussions, “There’s still so much we don’t know.” He’s right. But we do know this: They’re scary. Especially when they occur with the frequency that they have with Hornqvist.

“I feel for him,” Matt Murray said. “It’s a tough situation. It’s not an injury that’s fun to deal with, obviously. I can’t speak to how he’s feeling or anything like that. I just wish him all the best, like the rest of us here. Personally, not anything to do with hockey, you wish that he’s feeling good.”

6. The NHL and NHLPA met recently to discuss the current CBA, which runs through 2022, although the league and players have the option to terminate it this September (to be made effective Sept. 15, 2020).

From the league’s perspective, commissioner Gary Bettman would seemingly like to hold another World Cup of Hockey in 2020, and that could play a part in whether or not there’s labor peace through 2020 and beyond.

While Crosby said he didn’t want to comment specifically on negotiations “because it can change so many times,” he said he would be in favor of another World Cup. Crosby also would love to play in the 2022 Beijing Games.

“I’m good with both,” Crosby said. “I’ve had good experiences in both. I don’t know about the timing of it and how it fits in with everything. They did a great job in Toronto [in 2016]. Definitely the two Olympics I’ve been involved with, I thought they were awesome. We’ll see what happens.”

7. Crosby said much must still be determined with how the event would be structured — he brought up the possibility of another Team Europe and the under-23 squad as variables — in addition to the length of time it would require out of players.

But Crosby did really enjoy the last World Cup, held in Toronto in 2016, and would be all for doing it again. Maybe both, if the NHL and NHLPA could swing it.

“I think it was a big thing,” Crosby said. “We’ll have to see how it works out. I don’t know if it’s going to be the same format or how that’s going to shake out. The length of time, too, and when they do it. It’s something they have to figure out. I think they’re both [meaning the Olympics, too] are pretty good events.”

8. My two cents: I think the NHL is more in favor of the World Cup, while the players would probably rather go to the Olympics. They see the latter as a bigger stage, and they’re probably right.

Bettman has said before he worries about the disruption to the NHL season, but with the 2022 Games being in Beijing, that’s a major business opportunity for the league.

Would it be the worst thing if they did both? As long as the players would be on board, I don’t see an issue. I think it could be a lot of fun.

9. With Washington’s Alex Ovechkin set to pass Sergei Fedorov in career points by a Russian-born player — he’s six away after Monday’s game — I thought it would be a good time to ask Malkin about hockey in his home country and sort of the state of the Russian player.

Malkin said he’s “proud” of what some of his countrymen have been able to do, name-checking Ovechkin (on pace for an eighth season of 50 or more goals) and Tampa Bay forward Nikita Kucherov (NHL-best 75 points in 46 games).

There’s also other highly skilled players in Artemi Panarin, Evgeny Kuznetsov and Vladimir Tarasenko, plus some solid defensemen (Ivan Provorov and Dmitry Orlov spring to mind) and a pair of Vezina Trophy winners/finalists in Sergei Bobrovsky and Andrei Vasilevskiy.

“Russia loves hockey, first of all,” Malkin said. “When the national team plays, everyone watches on TV. Russia has always had so many good players — Fedorov, [Igor] Larionov. Lots of huge names.”

10. Malkin also lobbied for Russian players to come to the NHL and stay, believing it’s the best league in the world.

“If you have a chance, you need to come to NHL and try,” Malkin said. “It doesn’t matter if you’re 20 years old or 25. Just try. It’s No. 1, for sure. Every best player plays here, for sure.

“If you [want] to be better and you want a challenge against the best players, you be here. Be better every day, play against good teams. Of course I’m proud of Ovechkin and Kucherov are doing right now.”

11. I dug into some recent numbers of current Russian NHL players, and it’s roughly the same this season as it has been for the past couple years. Maybe a tad better.

Thirty-eight Russian-born players have played at least one game in the NHL this season. That number was 39 in 2017-18 and 42 and 41 in the two years before that.

Last year actually saw Russian players produce more offense than they have in quite some time, with those 39 players combining to score 428 goals and register 1,048 points.

This season, Russian-born skaters should meet or exceed those numbers. Russian players currently have 204 goals and 586 points a handful of games past the halfway point of the NHL season.

12. In talking to Malkin, I realized that I had ever asked him who he idolized while growing up in Magnitogorsk.

He cited watching Detroit and the Russian Five in the late 1990s — Fedorov, Larionov, Slava Fetisov, Vyacheslav Kozlov and Vladimir Konstantinov.

“I don’t know. It’s a hard question,” Malkin said with a smile. “I watched Detroit, Russian Five. You always hear, ‘Russian Five, Russian Five.’

“My style is more [like] Fedorov. Best player so far. He plays center. He plays wing. He can do everything. He’s a really, really smart guy and a smart player.”

13. Ever wonder why they call Marcus Pettersson “Dragon?”

Yes, seriously, that’s his nickname dating back to his time in Anaheim.

On Friday, before Pettersson played his first game at Honda Center since being traded to Pittsburgh, I asked him where the nickname came from.

Turns out it originated in Sweden. Pettersson had a high school basketball coach that called him and another kid “Dragons.” For no apparent reason, either.

Then one day in Anaheim, and perhaps because he’s tall and lanky, someone asked Pettersson if he ever played hoops.

Pettersson has always been kind of so-so on the sport but relayed the story from his home country.

“I just told the story as a joke, and they thought it was hilarious,” Pettersson said.

14. Turns out Derek Grant, a teammate of Pettersson’s in Anaheim who was there for the original story, retold it in Pittsburgh, and the nickname has remerged.

“I didn’t think it would stick,” Pettersson said. “Somehow it did.”

15. I talked to goaltending coach Mike Buckley about a few things in Anaheim, most notably what has helped Matt Murray get right again after returning from injury.

He brought up the team’s overall play and the emergence of Casey DeSmith as reasons why — the latter because he’s been able to shoulder some of the load and also the competitive environment it has helped create with Murray.

One of the things that outsiders have brought up relative to Murray is how he’s been taller in his net. Buckley said no tactical adjustment has been made, though he does think it may be at least a little bit true.

“He’s more confident,” Buckley said, smiling and standing up straight.

16. Another thing Buckley should get credit for this season is the emergence of DeSmith.

Both are New Hampshire guys and, like Murray, have a pretty good history together.

The biggest thing that has led to DeSmith’s breakout year, Buckley said, is how much better he’s been able to read the game. It’s similar to what has made Murray so successful.

“That’s where he’s made the biggest jump,” Buckley said. “He’s always been a pretty good play-reader and has anticipated well. But to catch up with how quickly it happens at this level, that was a big jump for him. I think he’s really adapted well with that.”

17. I also asked Buckley how the Penguins plan to manage the dynamic of Murray and DeSmith and what that might mean for each guy if both are playing as well as they have recently.

“I think it’s one game at a time,” Buckley said. “I think that healthy competition … keep that going right up until playoffs.”

If DeSmith can get this out of Murray simply by playing well, I think it makes his new extension — worth $1.25 million per season — even more of a bargain.

18. I don’t think it will take until Feb. 10 for Justin Schultz to come back.

That would be his original target date given the four-month timeline we were originally given, but the fact that he skated in full equipment for the first time last Friday likely bodes well for him joining the team soon.

The only complicating factor here is that, after this road trip, the Penguins have another week off because of their bye week and the All-Star Game.

Hard to imagine Schultz not being back with the team out of the break, if not before.

19. What will Jim Rutherford do at the trade deadline? Let’s use some deductive reasoning.

I have a tough time seeing Rutherford letting this deadline pass and not combining a good young goalie (Tristan Jarry) and a defenseman (they have nine) and doing something to help the NHL club. Rutherford is in win-now mode. He has a terrific opportunity to improve his team.

What needs to be better? Easy: third-line center. Their wings are fine. Defense has been good, too, and it’s about to get much better. They’re set at goalie, and they have three fourth-line centers.

It’s literally the only piece of this team that’s incomplete. I just don’t see how Rutherford can look at Tampa, Toronto and Washington and think the Penguins are getting enough from that position.

20. San Jose is my absolutely favorite road city. We get asked this question a lot — where do you like to go on the road? Well, here. And north of here.

Heaven for me came Wednesday. As soon as I landed in San Jose, I hopped onto a train bound for San Francisco and eventually wound up at Haight-Ashbury, the Grateful Dead/hippie Mecca.

Spent the afternoon and evening walking around and listening to music, doing some shopping and had dinner at Magnolia Brewery … just an amazing time.

If you’re a fan of the Dead’s music, or just a different-looking scene, I can’t recommend the Haight enough. And San Francisco, in general. What an awesome place.

Jason Mackey: [email protected] and Twitter @JMackeyPG.

First Published January 15, 2019 8:00 AM

#Jason Mackey #Pittsburgh Post-Gazette #pittsburgh penguins #20 Penguins Thoughts

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aftermathdb · 6 years

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DEATH BATTLE Review: Nightwing vs. Daredevil.

The ninety ninth battle. It’s been what?- Almost eight years, and we’ve come this far. This episode is just… full of a lot of firsts. Like it being the very first Live-Action Battle. Two acrobats, fighting it out in the arena. One will live, and the other……… will be resurrected because let’s face it, this is comic books.

Nightwing′s Preview.

Nightwing: The first Robin, and the first one to leave the nest… Er, cave, as it were. We know how this goes, we see some background and a quick overview of his stats.

We get a rundown of some of the things he’s done, and some of the feats he has. We also get the backstory as to him falling out with Batman, and his graduation to become Nightwing.

Especially since we also get to see how Bruce failed a second time to keep a Robin by his side…

(Red Hood vs. Winter Soldier confirmed?)

Nightwing’s arsenal also gets a page, much like many other previous characters.

By the looks of it, only the variants in the Wing-Dings will give Nightwing an edge at all.

And Nightwing’s feats put him ahead of the game. These are quite impressive for just a regular human with intense acrobatic and martial arts training.

(I’m starting to get the feeling that being able to sneak around Superman is becoming less and less of an impressive feat. But sneaking around Batman is an impressive feat. Give that guy a taste of what he give Commissioner Gordon for a change!)

Overall, Nightwing seems very primed for this battle. It honestly feels like a great way to introduce the character, and unlike his mentor, Nightwing actually possesses a sense of humor and (to me, personally) a lot more likable.

The end line is from when he introduced himself to Starfire after she got flung into the future. Remember that episode?- Man, I miss that show.

Daredevil′s Preview.

Daredevil has an edge or two right off the bat. As a kid who trained to be like his father, he was a pretty good acrobat and fighter. Plus, he’s got a good Netflix show. And thanks to that, I’m sure we all know his backstory. Boxing dad, chemicals in the eyes, superpowers, rigged match gone awry, and dead parents. Because what’s a superhero without dead parents?

(What do comic book creators have against parents?)

But anyways, on to the more kick-ass stuff.

Matt’s overall stats gives him an edge in height and weight. But that’s not going to mean much unless he has some abilities and skills to back him up.

So by the looks of it, they’re both equal in terms of being at peak human physique, and are fairly even in martial arts skills. Daredevil’s radar sense seems to also let him have a perfect detection of his surroundings, and we even get a comparison on how it works.

Overall, his arsenal is what would really set him apart.

Considering that this isn’t as versatile as Nightwing’s arsenal, it says a lot about how much Daredevil relies on his powers and skills to win fights.

And his feats are quite something to be impressed about.

(So they’ve both broken concrete. Good to know).

End line is something from his series. At least, I think so… It’s been a while since I last watched it.

The Battle Itself.

There is no animator for this Live-Action battle. Nightwing will be portrayed by Danny Shepard while Daredevil will be portrayed by Tyler Tackett. This is also a co-lab with ismahawk, who made a five-part Nightwing fan series. So, look out for references to that. Devil of the Night is composed by Brandon Yates.

So, for this being the first live-action battle, there’s a lot of firsts. And the battle opens with Nightwing trying to sneak up on Daredevil, but it not working because… it’s Daredevil.

The primary reason for the fight starting is because they’re both after a briefcase that is important to a case they’re both working.

(Honda: If you hit the trunk, it’ll open).

We get a staredown, and then the action starts.

So, both of them seem to be fairly evenly matched at the start. And the acrobatic work is pretty good too.

Now, you’ll have to excuse me, because I am not exactly an aficionado in live-action fights like this. I’ve been spoiled by the high-budget movies, and high-budget CGI, so I might not be the greatest expert here. Since these sort of live-action comic shows are typically more story-driven than action-driven, it feels a bit… slow.

an aspect about the fight that I don’t really like is that the battle has pauses for brief moments. While I get that it’s so that the actors can catch their breath, it feels out of place here. Had this been a gun fight, where the combatants would be taking cover behind different objects, there would be a better justification. But here… it feels really out of place.

(At least we get some flips. Every Death Battle needs at least two good flips to feel real (Dammit Torrian, you’ve spoiled us viewers with your choreography and flips)).

And Nightwing’s tech gives him something to figure out about DD. He’s got some sort of anomaly in his brain, and he [Nightwing] is about to formulate a hypothesis. Because he has been trained by Batman.

The little wrestling portion seems to have dislocated Daredevil’s shoulder, but true to Daredevil fashion, he just fixes it himself. What a boss.

Anyways, Nightwing seems to be eager to test his hypothesis by rendering the arena completely dark. And neither fighter is hindered a bit. Daredevil’s super senses and Nightwing’s nightvision tech essentially make the darkness moot.

And just as Nightwing is about to attack, Daredevil deflects the weapons, just like how it was mentioned that he could do back in his rundown.

(The wing-dings landed in a car’s door)

The battle rages on until it Daredevil pins Nightwing down and is ready for a finishing blow in

5…

4…

3…

2…

1…

Nightwing uses the sonic wing-dings from before and overloads Daredevil’s senses before taking him down.

By the way, that last shot there is a reference to the Nightwing series by ismahawk (I told you to look out for references)

(Jeez, Dick. You just killed a blind guy).

Verdict + Explanation.

So, overall, most of the fight was dead even. Nightwing took strength thanks to several of his feats like keeping the jaw of a shark closing in on him, and Daredevil took speed thanks to his bullet deflection narrowly outpacing Nightwing dodging gunfire.

And in terms of arsenal and equipment, they were also pretty even. Neither suit would be hindered by electricity, and both were very durable.

But much like Spider-Man vs. Batman, only one of them had something that would stop the other in their tracks. Much like how Spider-Man’s spider-sense renders Batman’s stealth useless, Nightwing’s sonic wing-dings would cause a sensory overload on Daredevil’s end.

And the way that Nightwing could deduce it also plays a minor factor. As he is a smart cookie, and his mask sensor would let him know something was up.

Some notecards also indicate that Nightwing could also take advantage of other aspects of Daredevil’s powers, and turn them against him. Effectively reducing Daredevil to just sonar, smell, and other senses outside of his ultra-sensitive touch.

In the end, both fighters were very even, making really feel as if it could go either way, but Nightwing’s detective skills and varied arsenal ended this bout.

Overall impression.

Overall, it feels like a big factor was a variant of the “He’s Batman” argument, but after going back and listening to the explanation a few more times, it became a lot more clear that between the two of them, fifty-five times out of a hundred, Nightwing would come out on top.- At least, that’s how it came off to me.

The pauses in the fight didn’t really feel appropriate, but for a first live-action battle, it was really great. Overall, I’d say that it earns a good 8.6/10. It doesn’t have the same feel as other battles, and I feel that it would take some getting used to. So really, 8.6/10, with some room to grow.

Next Time…

To be honest, I wasn’t sold on battle 100. I was honestly expecting something like Samus vs. Master Chief, Galactus vs. Unicron, Darkseid vs. Thanos, Ruby vs. Maka, or even Wario vs. Rouge. Heck! I was also expecting something like Jaune vs. Tucker, or Danny Phantom vs. Jake Long! But this… This was unexpected. It took a comment on the site to really sell me on it, and even then, I’m still a bit hesitant.

So yeah. Mario vs. Sonic. It’s happening again. While I’m more looking forward to seeing Wiz and Boomstick, it took this comment to really make me see this as not being a waste of time:

So, while I can understand why they tried to hype it up, it took some convincing.

Is there a fight that you want me to review? - Send an ask/request, and I’ll look into it!

Do you want to read my fanfic based around DEATH BATTLE itself? click here!

Thank you for reading, and I hope to see you next time for…

A new rematch.

#Deathbattle #Death Battle #screwattack #review

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chronicbatfictioner · 6 years

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A Real Boy - Chapter 7

The 'dungeon', thankfully, was not a literal dungeon. Or as Dick explained, it was once upon a time planned to be one; "but then the Salem Witch Trials happened, and the Wayne grandpa - or was it great-grandpa? I can't remember.. Anyway, he was so distraught by the blatant misogyny and stupid; he cancelled the building of witch-proof dungeon and instead built a wizard-safe laboratory of some sort like this. And by 'safe' I mean we can do things in here that no one beyond these walls would know, notice, or otherwise sense. Lo and behold!"

The last part of his story was emphasized by a sliding door that was hidden behind a grandfather clock. If Tim didn't see him pressing his hand on a panel nearby, he would have thought that the door was opened by magick. Behind the door was a dark, long set of stairs. Or maybe it wasn't that long, it just seemed like it because it was dark.

"Bruce will join us in a bit. Come on!" Dick prompted. "The light would come in after you're on step three..." he showed by going in. A single light lit up above his head. "See? Come on!"

"Hoookay..." Tim breathed. Jason has long since disappearing with Alfred to go elsewhere - presumably the library. Tim knew that there was the same amount of hexes and protection spells behind the clock - he could feel them, but did not feel threatened by them. "If I scream, Jason might pummel your face, just so you know." he reminded Dick, who waited patiently on the fifth stair.

"Oh, I know. He looks nonchalant, but inside he's actually very, very chalant." Dick remarked, straight-faced.

"What?" Tim nearly stumbled onto him when the lights behind him switched off and he rushed to catch up.

"You know, the opposite of 'non'-chalant?" Dick replied.

Tim rolled his eyes. "Really." he said dryly. "There's no such word..."

"Who's to say that? Language is fluid, Timber, I can create words today; and tomorrow, it'll be in the dictionary." Dick announced.

Tim managed to not roll his eyes, simply by realizing that if he does it again, he would stumble to the bottom of the stairs that was still long and dark and only illuminated as Dick stepped on the next concurrent steps. Dick eventually picked up speed and the lights got brighter until they reached the end of the tunnel to another door.

"Might want to shield your eyes. Babs hates darkness." Dick warned.

"Who's--" before Tim could ask who 'Babs' was, the door opened and light flooded the tunnel. Tim had to wince and squint to allow his eyes to adjust to the light.

Once his eyes adjusted, he gasped at the sight. There were rows and rows of servers, and if Tim didn't know better, he would have thought that he was in the server room of a corporate bank or something. But there were something about those servers that felt foreboding to him, as if they were using a different kind of electricity to power them, and Tim did not feel like they came from solar power or anything else he'd known to generate electricity.

"How..." he croaked, cleared his throat, and continued. "...how are these powered?" he asked, unconsciously glad that Dick seemed to see his uneasiness and remained within arm's reach.

"Oh, that's Babs' secret. You might want to ask her." Dick smiled. Tim honestly hoped that 'Babs' was a human being and not... some sort of ethereal or otherwise supernatural creature, e.g. a dragon who provided the electricity with its breath or something like that. Hey, he hasn't seen a lot of dragons. But nobody ever told him that dragons can't spit out electricity. If they can spit out fire out with their stomach acid, who's to say they couldn't spit out electricity? The general principle of electricity is consistent accumulation and friction of protons and electrons, after all. Even a small cat could accumulate static electricity... why can't a big dragon?

But said little voice that hoped for an electricity-spittin' dragon was squashed when they rounded a corner and found, among the massive set of monitors that stretched from approximately waist-high all the way to the ceiling, a chair and a keyboard on a desk, complete with coffee mugs and jars of snacks and several personal items. To his surprise, the chair was not actually a common computer chair, but a wheelchair.

"Babs?" Dick called. A voice called back from somewhere among the monitors that - frankly - fueled Tim's imagination of some sort of imp that fixes monitors or computers by physically going through it.

"Here, just a second." said the voice. After a few seconds, a red-haired person rolled out from under the desk. "Oh, hi, didn't know we had company!"

Tim blinked. Not only the person was 'regular' - as in non-magickal at all, she was also a familiar face. Barbara Gordon, the daughter of Police Commissioner, James Gordon. Barbara was a beautifully enigmatic, scary smart person with eidetic memory who could give Tim's brain an inferiority complex; and the proprietor of several renewable-energy initiatives that are being implemented by the city which, sadly, did not include dragon-based electricity.

"Was there an actual dragon-based electricity?" Tim's mouth blurted out before his manners could catch up. He promptly cringed and added, "I'm-- sorry. I'm... Hi, I'm Tim Drake." he introduced himself.

Barbara smiled and extended a hand. "Not as far as I've heard, but if you can find a dragon that can generate electricity and willing to do it for a small fee - preferably ones that don't include live creatures; do let me know!" she replied. "Also, if you can't hold up while I pull myself up to the chair, let me know. I don't want to pull you and we both stumble back to the ground." she added.

"Oh, no, I can... I think I can hold on." Tim replied and readied his stance as he accepted Barbara's hand. She apparently only needed Tim's arm as a hoisting point, because she pulled herself off the ground easily and maneuvered back into her wheelchair with such amazing ease that showed her upper body strength.

Tim was not surprised, really. He had seen interviews with Barbara that was taken after the incident that left her paralyzed from waist down. A former ballerina and martial artist, Barbara had patiently explained in the interview why she had the handles on the back of her wheelchair removed. She was not one who could handle pity and does not like to be pushed around without her explicit consent, she'd said, and Tim agreed. He might have never been physically disabled, but he knew how pity worked - and how many people have tried to pile it on him when his mother had died and dad got paralyzed. The 'pushing around' part, too, resonated aloud within Tim.

"Okay," Barbara remarked once she was seated. "Didn't tell me you were going to bring guests, Dick. But nice to meet you, Tim Drake. Do you guys need something?"

"Bruce is going to explain what we do to Tim here and his familiar - if he can drag said familiar from the library." Dick told her, and then turned to Tim. "Barbara here is our personal Oracle, literally and figuratively," he explained.

And then Tim realized that Barbara was wearing a nearly invisible tiara. A magickal invisible tiara that emanated strong old-magick that made Tim's heart flutter all of the sudden. "Goddesses... you're literally the Oracle of Delphi!" he exclaimed. The tiara, he knew, was an artifact. His father had found it - or rather, his mother did and his father was the one who took the credit. He knew it well, because mother was not happy at the credit, and his dad kept claiming that she had found it accidentally, so it didn't count.

It took Tim his powers manifesting, along with mother's death, to realize that the discovery was not incidental at all. It should have been stored in the Gotham Museum, like everything else they had discovered from the dig. Tim knew it as a definite fact, because he was there - it was one of the very rare few times that his parents had brought him along to an event.

Tim's expression must have revealed his thoughts - somebody in Bruce Wayne's team must have somewhat 'repossess' the tiara and gave it to Barbara; because she suddenly gasped and commented, "Oh my, he can see-- you can see the tiara, can't you?"

Tim nodded slowly, his eyes still didn't leave Barbara's tiara. "It should've been in the museum." he stated darkly. "Why do you have it."

Barbara smiled, "I've had it for a while now, Tim. I didn't steal it, if that's what you're insinuating without even intoning." she said. "Your mother... Dick, did you know whose son he is when you got him here?" she suddenly turned to Dick.

Dick shrugged. "Sure, Jack Drake's son."

"Jack and Janet Drake's son. Jan's son!" her eyes was glistening when she turned back to Tim. "She was... Tim, your mother was a hero."

Tim shrugged, this time. "I know, she saved dad's life..."

"Oh no, no, no..." Barbara waved her hand. "Oh goodness... That was just... while saving your father's life is not less heroic, regardless of the result of her demise; that's not what I meant. Jan... Janet was one of us. But she always knew that she would not be around long enough to watch her son grow up.

"She gave me this tiara right after they discovered it, almost three years ago. The one at Gotham Museum is a fake that she'd glamoured - so that any magickal person who'd seen it would think it's the real deal. It's been... how many times now that it's been 'stolen'? Four?" she mused. "But I didn't steal it. She said I should use it to focus my sensitivity and that it will help me focus it. Here--" she turned toward the computer console and keyboards. "...I'm sorry if this would hurt you, but I've got the feeling that you won't let this go without solid evidence."

"Oh man, Babs, you sure...? It wasn't... I mean, I flipped whenever I see mine, even like, just a photograph. Why..." Dick sighed, protesting.

"He's not like you, Dick. He's Jan's son." Barbara cut him off and skimmed through a whole list of folders, and then opened a video file. "You can see here," she pointed to a monitor and handed him a set of headphones.

The video began playing, and Barbara fast-forward it to a certain set of time. It generally showed her in an office building that Tim didn't recognize. She was already in the wheelchair, and by that, Tim could tell that it was after her incident a year before his mother's death. He knew, from Barbara's hint and Dick's reaction, what to expect. But still, he gasped when his mother walked into the room and toward Barbara. It was a brief exchange, showing his mother handing something toward Barbara, saying the exact thing Barbara said earlier, "this should help with your sensitivity. Now that you're not going out too much, your senses would go all haywire, and this will help you focus it."

Whatever it is Barbara said, Tim stopped caring as he focused on his mother. Even in a video, her features have started to be out blurry and out of focus, as it would with other full-blooded fae when they have died. Tim knew that he shouldn't try to remember her face. The books said that when a fae was killed, they would only fully get the freedom of the body and the choice of whether or not they would want to return to the realm of the living once their descendants forget about their previous appearances.

"Why did you show him that?" Jason was suddenly beside him, covering Tim with his arms and wings and all. "and for goddess' sake, what the hell is it with the clock?? I had to wait for Alfred to open the thing!" he added, snarling toward Dick.

"Oh wow, he's... he must be--" Barbara gasped.

"...the familiar. Yeah. That's actually what I meant by not making him distressed. He kind of got a very protective familiar." Dick added. "Babs was just showing Tim how she'd gotten something from his mother." he explained to Jason.

"I'm al--" Tim's voice sounded a little too small, even for him. So he cleared his throat. "I'm alright, Jason. Just-- Sorry... I didn't think that seeing her again..." he blinked rapidly, trying to settle the tears that were starting to burn his eyes. "We're supposed to forget so she can be free, right? I'm... I couldn't even remember what she smelled like." A big droplet of tears stubbornly refused to get back in and fell onto Tim's cheek.

Jason hugged him tight, but his wings were starting to disappear. "I'm sorry," he said.

"Why?" Barbara asked curiously. "What does he mean by having to forget?"

"A fae would make everyone forget them once their physical self died." Jason explained. "And by 'everyone', I mean their descendants. Once they are fully and truly forgotten, then they would have the option to return again to a human life, or other things."

"Does that mean there aren't faes who are... Mexican, then?" Dick wanted to know, and then cringed. "Ugh, I sounded racist. Sorry."

Jason scoffed. "There are... just not the... recent ones with clear photos, I guess. They just need to kind of 'forget' the actual appearance. Like, if you have a mole on your left cheek and your great-great grandkid doesn't know it because your photo was taken as a right-side profile, you're good to go." he explained. "And yes, you sounded racist, jerk."

"He's... delightful. And a bit possessive of his Magi, huh?" Barbara observed. "I'm Barbara, do you have a name?" she asked Jason.

"Jason." Jason replied shortly, even without looking Tim knew that his eyes were fixated on Barbara's tiara. "Well, it's pretty rare to see someone who has control of the Phythia's crown." he commented. "Does it require a modern-day fog a.k.a. hallucinogens to work?"

Dick gasped and Barbara coughed a laugh. "Oh my, he's..." Barbara remarked.

"Salty, I was about to warn you that. Was that you or you?" Dick asked, pointing alternately between Jason and Tim.

"Both," they chorused, and Tim promptly cringed. "Sorry, it's just... history believed that the Phythias used some hallucinogens. I just want to make sure..."

"The earlier ones didn't," Jason replied. "The latter ones... let's just say they weren't blessed with the channel for Apollo's foreseeing abilities and were trying to not make the empire collapse."

"'Try' being the operative word, I presume..." Barbara quipped.

"Yeeeah, well... the tiara was lost after a while. Presumably hidden." Jason replied.

"Presumed correctly to be hidden. My mom didn't find that in Delphi or even near Delphi." Tim said. A thought randomly came to his mind and he took a single step away from Jason, out of his embrace. "By the way, is there an electricity-generating dragon?"

Jason glared at him. "Of all the exciting things you could ask while being in the inner sanctum of the modern-day Oracle, that's what you want to know?" he scowled.

"Yes." Tim replied, surprised to hear his 'yes' echoed by both Dick and Barbara.

Jason sighed exasperatedly. "Yes there is. Don't ask me if I can get to them or how to contact them, --do not ask how I know or if they still exist. Just-- can we focus on whatever this thing is Bruce wanted to show us and-or-you?" he snapped.

Barbara snickered. "Okay, then... I think Bruce is coming down in a bit, he's a bit surprised at you zipping past him down the hallway and was checking on us. But let's start over, shall we?" she told them as she wheeled her chair to the center of the room. And then she turned and stated enigmatically, "Gentlemen, welcome to the Oracle's Lair. How can I help?"

Bruce, who had just rounded the corner, intoned; "how do we stop the Untitled?"

#Tim Drake #Jason Todd #no-capeAU #Dick Grayson #Barbara Gordon #Bruce Wayne #alfred pennyworth #Magi!AU

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minichicclothing · 3 years

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Don't Stop Believing Para Christmas Hat T Shirt From AllezyGo

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TEARYand WAS VERY EAGER TO CAST ASIDE DANNY BECAUSE SHE WAS PRESENTING HERSELF AS A AS A FIGURE OF DESTINYand NOW BETH IS QUITE EAGER TO HITCH HIS WAGON TO ANOTHER PERSON WHO IS PRESENTING HIMSELF AS A FIGURE OF DESTINY ABSOLUTELY ABSOLUTELYand HE BASICALLY PRESENTED WITH SOME LINE ABOUT PARADISE SAYS ABOUT DANNY WORRIES LIKE NOW SHE’S GOT HER WHEN SHE KILLED HARRISON TO GET A MEAL YOU COULD MAKE THE ARGUMENT MY TRAVELING OUT OF COLORADO BUT IT IS KIND OF CONFOUNDING WORDS LIKE BRAND IS NOW ALL OF A SUDDEN LIKE TO FIND A DRAGON COULD YOU FOUND THE DRAGON DECREASE GOING HE DIED WE DON’T KNOW THE ANSWER WAS THE BIGGER PROBLEM THAN WHAT THE ANSWER ACTUALLY IS A CRUCIALand IS SOMETHING WE TALK ABOUT MILLION TIMES BINGE MODE IS THAT IT AN INABILITY OR AN UNWILLINGNESS TO WRITE REALLY REALLY ENGAGE WITH THE FANTASY ELEMENTS BECAUSE WHAT’S IMPORTANT ABOUT THAT KIND OF WORLD BUILDING IS EXPLAINING HOW IT WORKS WE HAVE TO ADDRESS ME IN UNDERSTANDING ABOUT HOW THE RULES WORK FOR US WHAT YOU GET IS LIKE A DEUS EX MACHINA WHERE CHARACTER CAN JUST DO ENTERING THIS IS WHERE LEVELING OUTand WEAR ANYTHING NOW WITH BRENDA’S RULER STATING TO NOT KNOW HOW HIS POWERS WERE OR WHAT HE USES HIS RESPONSIBILITY IN THE WAY WE SAID SO MUCH TIME HEADING INTO THE SEASON TALK ABOUT THE ROLE OF THE 300and ENDED UP GETTING A LINE A SINGLE LINE HEADING INTO THE AREA WITH HER FATHER PLANNING FORand ABOUT HOW HE WAS THE PROTECTOR OF MEMORY OKAY SOand THE IDEA OF SOMEBODY IN CHARGE OF JERRYand HONESTLY TRY TO VOICE THIS A COUPLE TIMES WHO HAS UNDERSTANDING OF HISTORYand THUS AN UNDERSTANDING OF MISTAKESand THUS BY EXTENSION LOGICALLY HOPEFULLY HOW TO AVOID THEM OKAY MIKE MOORE DOES BRAND OF THE FUTURE BECAUSE I THERE IS AMPLE CANONICAL EVIDENCE OF THE ANSWER THAT QUESTION IS YES YOU WHENand BEFORE YOU TRAIN TO BE 300and BRAND IS A GREEN SERIES ON THE SCENE COME TO WINTER FELL THAT WAS THE SAYS OUT LOUD MY DREAMS COME TRUE HE SAW THE SHADOW OF THE DRAGON OVER THE ROWS OF KING’S LANDING SEESAW THE SO I DON’T WANT THE PERSON IN CHARGE OF MY LIFE TO KNOW MY FUTURE BECAUSE THEN NOTHING THAT I DO MATTERS MORE IS OLDEST ABOUT POSITIONING TOGETHER THAT’S A WITH ARIANAand WE ALL REALLY WERE VERY PRO RAID FOR BUT THAT WAS THAT NAGGING QUESTION THE BACK OF OUR MINDS WILL SHE ALWAYS GOING TO BECAUSE BRENT HANDED HER THE RIGHT NOW IS GET ONand GET DOWN WE’RE TALKING ABOUT THE GAME THE EPISODE IS THAT THE ONE OF THE MOST BELOVED EPISODES OF THIS ENTIRE SERIES IS WHEN WHERE IT’S WERE YOU KNOW WE STILL IN THE GARAGE ON INand THERE IS NEVER REALLY A MOMENT WHERE THAT REGARDLESS OF WHETHER OR NOT BREAKand EXPRESS HIMSELF EMOTIONALLY OR NOT IS NOT ACTUALLY EVER LIKE YOU WERE STORY WAS IMPORTANT TO THIS ENDING BECAUSE LIKE WE SHOULD LET STAND AT THE NEXT SCENE IS ESSENTIALLY LIKE JOHN GETS FARMED OUT THE NIGHTWATCH I MEAN WE SHOULD TALK ABOUT I THINK I SENSE OF THE WAY THEY PRESENT THAT FINAL SCENE WITH BRENDA’S KINGand IN WITH HIS SMALL COUNCIL I THINK THAT IS REALLY ILLUSTRATIVE AS IT IN MINIATURE OF THE WAY BRAIN IS POSITIONED WITHIN THE SERIESand KIND OF LIKE THE FLAWS IF YOU WANT TO SAY OF HOW COME THIS STORY OF HOW THIS STORYLINE FINISHEDand WHICH IS WHY I THINK A MORE CHARITABLE READING OF THIS IS REALLY LIKE TERRYand RUNNING THE REALM YOU Iand MY A WEEK CAN YOU CAN MAKE AN ARGUMENT THAT THE WORD ABOUT THE CHAIR RIGHT IS DOESN’T ACCOUNT FOR BRAND SAYING YEAH IT’S ME YOUR BOY I AGREE WITH YOU BUT I THINK THAT THAT LOOK AT THE WAY THAT SCENE PLAYS OUT IT STARTS WITH TEARY POSITIONING THE CHAIRS RIGHT OBVIOUSLY LIKE A METAPHOR FOR HIM TWEAKINGand CONTROLLING THE ROUND WHILE THE COMMITTEE MEMORIZE THE ANSWERS THEY WERE ARRANGING THE CHAIRS COMES IN THEY TALK ABOUT SELF BRAIN COMES IN FOR TWO SECONDS BLAH BLAH BLAH I’LL LOOK FOR THE DRAGON AMOUNTand THEN WE GET THAT SCENE OF THEM HAGGLING ABOUT COINSand CHIPSand SOFTand THAT SOFT PULLBACK AS IF ANand WHAT ARE WE WHAT ARE WE LEFT WITH THIS IS WHERE THE ROUNDS CAN BE CONTROLLED FROM THIS IS WHAT THE GOVERNANCE IS GONNA BE LIKE A KIND OF AS IT ALWAYS WASand BRAND IS NOT GOING TO BE INVOLVED HE WENT WAY TO GO DO STUFF HERE’S MY COUNTERPOINT THEY DIDN’T GIVE A SANITIZED VERSION OF THE STORY BECAUSE TERRY NEVER HAD A HAD A PROBLEM THE SMARTEST ONE IN THE ROOM IS TO SHINE THE CASE FOR AN WHAT IS HE SAYING IS SO DON’T NOTICE ME ACTUALLY I JUST KEEP MAKING BAD CHOICES BUT ACTUALLY YOU FOR YOUR MISTAKES BY SERVING THE HEAD OF THE KING FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE THE THING THAT I WANTED THOUGH WAS AN EXCHANGE WHEN TIERNAN JOHN SIEGE OF THE BEFORE JOHN WAS THE NIGHTWATCH IS THIS IDEAS OF LIKE OKAY SO THAT WHAT WAS WITH THE TRANSACTION HERE THAT YOU’RE YOU’RE THE HAND OF THE KING NOWand I’M NEVER TO HAVE A WIFEand I GO BACK TO WHICH HONESTLY IF TORMENT HAD BEEN LIKE M WRIGHT WANT TO START DOING THIS YOU CAN IT WAS LATER TOLD ME IT WAS MY DESTINY TO BECAUSE I WAS THE VERSION OF LIKE MY SITTING ON THE ARTS ROAD WITH THE THING THAT THE NARROWSand ALWAYS PROMISED THIS BENEVOLENT PERSON WHO WAS GONNA TRYand PROTECT PEOPLEand THEY DON’T EVEN DISCUSS IT AS EASILY GOTTEN OFF DUTY I FEELING I GOT MULTIPLE WATCHES TEARYand SYRIANSand IS A LOT MORE COMPLEX I THINK THEN ON FIRST BLANCH PLUMBING DANNY LISA JUST FINE WHEN WE GET OTHERWISE IS A SERIES OF CHARACTER CODERS YOU BREANNE WRITES JAMIE STORYand THE OTHERS I WILL SAY TO YOU HOW HAITI WILL BE REMEMBERED RIGHT LIKE NO I LIKED IT BUT IT’S LIKE THIS IN JUST A BASIC HUMAN LEVEL WHAT WOULD YOUR ASK WHO YOU LEFT RIGHT ABOUT YOU ON ANYTHING LIKE IT’S GREAT THAT SHE WROTE ALL THE NICE STUFF BUT IT’S KIND OF ALSO RINGS A LITTLE FALSE THAT SHE WASN’T LIKEand WAS AN ASS HOLE WHO LEFT ME LIKE BLAH BUT I DON’T AGREE I THINK THAT ULTIMATELY BRAND IS ONE OF THE CHARACTERS IN THE ENTIRE STORY WHO WE CAN LOOK TO AS LIKE SOMEBODY WHO REALLY UNDERSTANDS WHO SHE ISand THAT WE CAN FIND A LOT THERE TO ADMIREand TYPE SO WHEN PEOPLE AFTER EPISODE FOR LIKE OH MY GOD THEY DISLIKE REDUCE BRAND TO AUNT SALLY CRYING IS WHAT IS TO THINK THAT ALL BUT YOU CAN BE A STRONG WOMANand YOU CAN HAVE A LOTION JUST LIKE SHE COULD BE DEVASTATED THAT JAMIE LOVES HERand STILL WANT TO HONOR HER SAY HER SACRED PRINCIPLE IS NOTHINGS MORE PAINFUL THAN FAILING TO PROTECT WHEN YOU LOVEand SHE’S PROTECTING JAMIE’S I ADDITIONAL SECRET I I JUST IT’S LIKE I WOULD’VE LIKED SOME EMOTION FROM I GUESS IT’S YOU KNOW IT’S THAT THING OF LIKE SHE CAN BE BOTH STRONGand ALSO LIKE THIS THAT THIS HAPPENEDand INSTEAD SHE’S JUST A LIKE OUR OUTRAGEOUS HISTORY OR JAMIE WANDERING WALL OKAY SO BREANNE IS CLEARLY COMMANDER THE KING’S GUARD WHICH IS GREAT BUT WHAT ABOUT THE VARIOUS BRANDSand KINGSLAND NON CATHOLICS CHILDREN I GUESS THAT’S THE BUT THAT’S NOT REALLY RUTH RATE IS LIKE THERE’S NO COMMERCE I’D LOVE TO SEE THE CONVERSATION REMBRANDT SIGNS ARE WHEN THEY DECIDE CAN ACTUALLY RAIN TOGETHER PLAZA PROBABLY NEEDS A GUARD TO IT WOULD ALSO BE HAVE SAUNDERS AGREE TO THE NORTH ARIANA GOES WEST TO FIND OUT WHAT’S WEST OF WEST ROSE NOTHING RETURNS THE WALL GO SEE NORMAN SEES GOES IN THE LITTLE COUNSEL TO DISCUSS DIFFERENT PUBLIC WORKS TO DOand THEN THERE IS A MONTAGE OF THE START OF THE SEARCH ESSENTIALLY PEOPLE SALUTING GONZO WITHOUT THE CROWN DOESN’T OR YOU’LL MAILING THE MAIN CROWNand JOHN WRITING OUT I SEEM TO ESCORT THE WILD WINGS BACK OUT TO THEIR TO THEIR HOMELANDS IT ALWAYS FEELS LIKE HE’S WITH THEM WITH THEMand IT’S THAT IT WILL END THE SHOP WAS A VERY INTERESTING SO JOHN IS GOING TO LEAVE THE NICE LUNCH AGAIN WHAT HE IS RENDERING I GUESS I YEAH I THINK DELIBERATELY OPEN TO INTERPRETATIONand YOU KNOW HE MAY BE NO LINE IN THE IN THE EPISODE BETTER SUMMED UP THE LIKE THEY’LL FIGURE IT OUT NATURE OF THIS EPISODE IN THE SEASON THAN TERRYand SANG ARE NUKING DOESN’T SEND YOU THE NIGHTWATCH JOHN SAYING THERE STILL A NICE WATCHand HEARand SAVE THE WORLD WILL ALWAYS THE HOME FOR PASTORSand BROKEN MAN OKAY AGAIN ON THE ONE HAND THERE’S IDEAS ARE ESSENTIAL TO THE SHOW ON THE OTHER HAND LITERALLY WHY IS THE NIGHTWATCH AREA I WAS WAITING FOR LIKE SOCIAL I DON’T OCCUR SOMETHING I FIND IT I FOUND IT VERY I FOUND THE OUTLINE FASCINATING BECAUSE A LOT OF THE TENSION IN BETWEEN JOHNand TEARYand IN SEASON ONE IS JOHN’S NAIVETY IN BELIEVING THAT THE NIGHTWATCH WAS THIS NOBLE PROFESSION STANDING BETWEEN THE REALMS OF MANand WILD WINGSand EVIL ETC

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txskax · 6 years

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All interview questions for Eliseo

Eliseo replies and turns to his mun with concern.

- What is your Full name? Include any maiden names, aliases, or nicknames. Eliseo Matteo Lee, I usually go by Eli for close friends and family members

- When is your birthday? Do you know where you were born and at what time? April 17, 1982, I was born in Italy, province Bari.

- What is your star sign? Do you know your Chinese Zodiac too? I believe that I am an Aries and my Chinese Zodiac is the dog

- What is your earliest memory that you can remember? I remembered the summer of 1986 in Bari my father taught me how to catch my first fish, best summer day spent that year.

- Where was your childhood home? Was it more urban or rural? With the buildings and such, it was kind of a cross in between, but it is more urban than it would be rural. We had not much land and hour home was like a townhouse type of deal, but it was beautifully set cliff side to look over the ocean

- How was your childhood in general? Did your parents treat you well? Did you have a lot of friends? I had a very fulfilling childhood until I reached the year of our accident, my parents were the most loving and understanding couple you could meet, they would always greet you with open arms and warmth. I did have some friends but they all left my side when I became blind and then I ended up moving to Korea and basically no one befriends me, perhaps because they can only pity me so much.

- How was/is school? What is your favorite and least favorite subjects? What were your grades on average? School was a blast in the elementary years, then high school and university was just a horrible freak show, I never thought that the smallest thing on this earth would be human kindness but what else could I expect. Least favorite subject were the sciences and my most favorite was mathematics. My grades are above average, not exceptional.

- Did you have a best friend growing up? What was their name? Are you still in touch? I had a friend named Dario, he was close to me for a very long while but when we moved on to grade 11 he had moved to another province in Italy. In general I have lost contact with him.

- Were you in any cliques? No.

- Best childhood memory you can recall? Being told that was going to be a big brother, when my mother was pregnant with her third child.

- Worst childhood memory you can recall? I do not know what was worse, being told that my eye sight will get worse and possibly permanently gone or the fact that my mother died in the accident along with my sibling inside of her. Both had me devastated.

- Name an event in your childhood that has shaped you into the person you are today. I became a spokesperson for people against drunk driving due to my accident. I am the outcome of this circumstance, but due to this I learn there are many more values in life that we must cherish, and these things are crucial. Things cannot be taken for granted and that with whatever is happening around us, do not forget to be thankful for everything we have already.

- What is the dumbest thing you have ever done to impress someone? Were they impressed or was it all for naught?I have never shown off or have done anything to get people to fancy me. I don’t work that way.

- Did you ever have any sweethearts or lovers? Do you have a boy/girlfriend? I liked a girl back in grade 5 but I was a naive kid, what did I know about love? But no, I have never dated anyone, I have never held hands with anyone in that romantic manner either.

- Are you a virgin? Considerably yes? (to be discussed lol)

- Do you ever plan on getting married in your life? Do you want kids? Oh yes I am growing older, I do want to settle very much and I would love to have kids, I just adore them.. but I fear of being a burden t my spouse and my children so I distance myself a lot

- Would you rather have your own kids or adopt? How many kids would you want? Adopt or not they will be loved and cherished as my kids, and they will have the highest quality of life. I would prefer one girl and one boy, but if nature happens, it happens.

- Do you think you'd be a protective parent or a relaxed parent? I think I am a good healthy in between, I do not like spoiled kids but I do not believe emotionally scarred kids are good either, I like to balance out my love and my discipline for the.

- How would you prefer to pass away? Surrounded by loved ones and at peace, or while doing something heroic? I would prefer to die with loved ones around me but dying at least feeling I did my best for the world around me.

- Generally, how healthy are you? Do you get sick or injured easily or are you fit? I have physiotherapy to help me, I am not healthy 100% but I am not too ill, I have respiratory issues and sometimes my legs could give out but I am doing my best on working out

- Have you ever been badly injured before? Yes.

- What is the worst injury you have ever gotten? What was it and how did it happen? Were you ever close to death? Like I said my blindness is part of my injuries, alongside with broken ribs and slight internal trauma. A drunk truck driver has slammed into our family car, my mother passed, my father fell unconscious I sparred my sister with her only having a broken arm and I have suffered head trauma and such.

- How many times have you been to the hospital/doctor's? I cannot count but I have kept all of my paperwork

- Have you ever had a concussion or brain injury? Have you ever had amnesia? -- please read the other info

- What was the worst illness you ever contacted? Do you know what it was? How long were you sick? stitching infection? after they patched up my chest the stitching had a slight infection and I have gotten the worst fever ever experienced.

- Ever had any extended hospital stays? What for? Yes.

- Have you ever had to give yourself or someone else emergency first aid? What happened? Yes, that is disclosed information.

- Are you employed? Where do you work and who do you work for? What do you do? I am a professional artist and commissioner. I am self employed with my own studio and gallery/store, I can take commission requests from clients or sell my current art works to the public.

- Are you happy with your current job? Yes

- Did you have any previous jobs? What were they and what did you do? None

- Most dangerous thing you have ever done? Tried to cross the street during traffic just to kill myself

- Do you consider yourself a more active person or a more relaxed person? Perhaps more relaxed

- What is your dream come true? How about your worst nightmare? Well I had a dream to be the greatest artist and that is a come true for sure. My worst nightmare is not being able to help my father and sister.

- What is the biggest and most important goal you have set for yourself? Find good quality happiness and keep it. Do not settle for anything less than happy.

- How persistent would you say you are? How much does it take to get you to give up on a task? I will push as mush as I can to get the results I want, I am not rude about it but i don’t believe in early give ups. To get me to stop early is to pretty much hurt me with you saying no.

- Would you surrender yourself to your enemies or fight to the very end? Fight to the very end

- When do you usually do your shopping? What is currently on your shopping list? I usually stand to hold the cart my sister determines what to buy but I usually request pepero to be first

- Top three things on your wishlist? nothing as of now

- Currently, what is something you want but do not need? A lover hahahaha

- Do you like shopping? What is your favorite thing to shop for? Honestly, I can’t see things to be desiring materialistic things. But I do like art supply shopping, its a guilty pleasure

- What is the most expensive thing you have purchased? Was it worth it? Specialized paints with braille, and YES

- What would you do if you were suddenly given one billion dollars out of the blue? I will donate half to charities I like, and the rest will be to my family. I keep nothing.

- What would you describe your style of clothing as? I am mostly painting through the day so something dark and simple so it is easy to clean or dispose.

- Do you have any hobbies? Name all of them if you can. Painting, singing, reading, swim?

- Do you like and appreciate art? What is your favorite piece of artwork? YES of course!! Jean - Michel Basquiat, his works are controversial, meaningful, despite its raw and childish form he is a man with proper anatomy and art education that uses his form of art style to convey a rather complex yet simple message to the viewer. I also have a major crush on him too from when i was young

- Do you like music? What is your favorite style of music? I listen to classical music mostly, I like myself some Chopin, or if I want opera-esque then probably I will go for Georgy Sviridov

- Have you ever seen any musicals? What is your favorite?Eh no

- What are your top three favorite animals? What would you say your "Patronus" or "Spirit Animal" is? Dogs, deers, BEARS. And I am not sure, maybe a bear

- What are your top three favorite colors? Reds, Beiges/neutrals, and Pink

- What is your favorite season? Do you prefer hotter or colder weather? Do you like snow at all? I love autumn, the time that is not too chilly or not too hot, the beautiful colors and smells of fresh spices and rain.

- What kind of flavors do you prefer: Sweet, Sour, Bitter, Spicy, Dry, or Umami (savory meat taste)? I like sweet or sour things

- Can you cook at all? I can but not recommended for my to do things alone

- What is your favorite dish? Can you prepare it? Do you have the recipe handy? I like all types of soups, I can make congee yes and I definitely don’t need a recipe for it

- What is your favorite fruit and vegetable? I like peaches and squash

- What is your favorite dessert? What is your favorite type of candy/treat? I love Ice cream, a cooling sweet treat that I love to eat any time of the year

- What is the best thing you have ever had the opportunity to eat? What is the worst? I fell in love with sushi but I regret goat meat, that stuff stinks

- Do you like to drink tea or coffee? Any favorite flavors? Both and I like my coffee plain as a dark brew but tea my favorite is Green tea

- Describe your sense of humor. Dry and basically dark, or considerably no sense

- What is one thing you are justly proud of? My sister, like she is thriving and living happily, I am very happy to be her older brother

- Do you have any religious beliefs? If not, have you ever been to a church service? I am catholic by birth, I had beliefs but now I thinks its all bologna and just stupid

- What would you say is the worst thing someone has done to you? What is the meanest thing someone has ever said to you? Lie to me about their feelings towards me? like my hopes were brought up really high when I hear that someone is interested in me but just the next day it waivers.

- What is the worst thing you have done to someone? What is the meanest thing you have said to anyone? Reciprocate feelings? I would never do anything physically to hurt someone but sometimes my words and thoughts can be harsh

- Share the latest entry in your diary/journal. That.. is confidential

- What is the most precious thing you own? Is it valuable at all? A pendant left by my mother, the only thing of her that I have brought with me from the beginning and now until my end.

- Talk about someone you know. It can be someone you either like or dislike. My mother, I can start that she is the most beautiful woman I had in my life (besides my sister) and I an not talking about just her visuals, her heart was like a bucket of warm gold, she worked hard and shared every moment she had with those around her. Despite her not having enough things for herself she always made sure her neighbors would always have a share too. My mother is intelligent, strong, courageous. She may not be the prettiest of women to some people but she is my mom.. and no one else could replace her from my heart and mind.

#eli;rp #replies #((mun is out of breaf))#Anonymous

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cloakedsparrow · 7 years

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WTF brain?

My sleep disorder and illness decided to strike simultaneously last night, so I couldn’t sleep but couldn't get anything productive done in my new-found awake time. I got the idea for a Bat Family AU, even though I’ve never been willing to write Bat Family fanfiction. I guess I thought maybe an AU would be easier to start with?

Anyway, I jotted down the outline, but then started working it into something resembling the start of a story. Today, I look at what I wrote and this was it. The breaks are where there’s apparently going to be actual plot development/story.

Eventually, I will finish shaping this into a proper story. Feel free to use any concepts if you like them though. I’d appreciated it if you’d link me so I can read them.

Half-assed plotline below the cut.

Bat Family Multiverse AU

Bruce was helping Wonder Woman on a case when he came into contact with a strange artifact. He awoke back in Gotham, in a world where the Waynes never died and there is no Batman. Bruce doesn’t know if he’s been sent to an alternate reality or if the world around him has actually changed. Before he figures it out, he needs to find out where his children are.

Dick’s parents were killed just the same in this world, but without Bruce there to take him in, he was sent to an orphanage. Rumors of bullying and abuse abound, but before anyone ever bothered to look into it, Dick had had enough. He ran away and seemingly fell off the face of the earth for ten years. Then an eighteen year old Dick, mute and scarred, showed up at Haley’s Circus.

Dick’s still kind and intelligent, but not the friendly and flirty son Bruce raised. He helps out and stands up for those around him when necessary, but otherwise keeps to himself. He’s never told anyone anything about those ten years, but his skills as an acrobat are more impressive than ever. He performs under the name Robin, and wears a costume with colors that honor of his fallen parents.

There’s another costume hidden in a trunk in Dick’s trailer. One that’s less bright and designed to protect the wearer a little better than a leotard. One that once instilled fear into the hearts of mobsters and child killers across the US East coast, when a vigilante referred to as Robin Redbreast captured many violent offenders and left them in a nest of evidence for the police to find over the course of three years. No one knows where the vigilante came from or where he disappeared to, but he’s rarely seen or heard from these days.

It all makes Bruce want to take Dick in all over again and show him who he could be.

After a robbery gone wrong that led to stint in juvenile hall, Jason Todd was taken in by a boys home in Gotham run by a kindly priest and funded in part by donations from Thomas Wayne. There the boy learned patience, mercifulness and how to funnel his inborn rage into passion for good. Now he runs a homeless shelter and soup kitchen with the allowance he receives as the guardian of an orphaned billionaire child. Some would find a stranger taking in an unrelated boy suspicious, especially when there was so much money attached to the child, but anyone who has actually seen Jason interact with Tim Drake can honestly say that they adore each other.

Tim Drake was lonely for most of his childhood. His parents were always off working or schmoozing with the rest of the Gotham elite. Eventually, he was old enough to suggest going with them when they headed off to a charity fund raiser, which meant he was with his parents during the attack that killed them. Tim himself was injured, losing his spleen, a small length of intestines, and the lower half of his left leg. After a couple shady individuals showed interest in taking in the heir, Jason Todd (who had met the boy during his usual visits to the Gotham Hospital children’s ward) fought for -and won- custody. Despite his tragic childhood, Tim appears quite content. With Jason, he has the love and sense of belonging he never received from his parents and all he ever wanted was a family that loved him, wanted him.

Jason and Tim also moonlight as a vigilante detective known as Bluejay. They follow crimes in Gotham (and elsewhere, if the crime is big and mysterious enough to catch their attention) -Tim hacks all sorts of data bases and security footage and Jason gets information from assorted street types who would never talk to the police- and then send the proof they collect to whatever authority or superhero will be able to use it. They never get involved physically and always take precautions to never get too close to a case.

Bruce can’t help but wonder if this is the path Jason and Tim would have followed if he hadn’t intervened in their lives. The two are closer than any of his children have ever been and seem happy, at peace, as though all they needed was love and a real home. It hurts and shames Bruce to think that he didn’t give them that.

Cassandra was raised by her father, but after her first few kills, Bluejay tracked her down and sent Lady Shiva proof of her heritage and whereabouts. Lady Shiva handled Cain and reclaimed her daughter. After a couple years together, Cassandra left her mother’s side (with her blessings) to pursue her own path. After receiving a few anonymous communications from Bluejay that led to Cassandra stopping several costumed villains and even a terrorist plot, she decided that vigilantism was her true calling. She does not have a brand or specific city she haunts. She is more brutal and frightening than Batman ever was. Criminals all around the world know her, and fear her, as The Rook.

Bruce can only hope that Lady Shiva is half as proud of Cassandra as he is. He wishes someone had been there to remover her from the situation earlier, as he had done in his own world (timeline?). He also wishes that she wasn’t so alone.

Without his Batman persona and the internal darkness from which it was born, Bruce Wayne was not intriguing enough to catch Talia Al Ghul’s interest. As such, Damian was never conceived.

Bruce isn’t sure how he feels about that.

But he does know that without the Batcomputer and the connections he forged as Batman, he’s going to need help if he’s going to figure out where he is, how he got here, and how to set things right.

The Justice League doesn’t exist in this world. Superman does, so does Green Arrow and Black Canary. Some photos and descriptions on assorted alien conspiracy sites lead Bruce to believe that the Green Lantern Corps does as well but aren’t known to Earth. He can’t find anything concrete on Wonder Woman or Aquaman. He chooses to believe that they exist but have remained hidden and he’ll leave them that way. Barry Allen and Barbara Gordon are police detectives in their respective cities without any alternate identities as far as Bruce can tell.

He has no way to get in touch with Oliver, Dinah or any of the Green Lanterns. Bruce would rather avoid bringing in Clark until he knows more about the situation and who exactly <i>this</i> Clark is. Barry, Barbara and Commissioner Gordon would likely write him off as eccentric if he tried telling them what was going on.

He didn’t want to disrupt their lives in this world, but he’s going to need his children’s help to solve this case.

Jason and Tim were the only ones currently in Gotham and they would be the easiest to approach in any case. Bruce could just walk into the soup kitchen and ask to speak with Jason about expanding or contributing to his charity. They’d also be able to locate Cassandra while Bruce went to see Dick at Haly’s.

-------

“I can’t take the risk. If I got caught, they’d take Timmy away from me. If I got killed, I’d be leaving him all alone. I made a promise when I took him in, to be there for him. I won’t break that promise. I won’t do anything to hurt him.

“Besides, he’s my responsibility. I don’t take that lightly. And I love him too much to put him at risk.” Jason offered a kind smile. “Maybe one day you’ll have kids. Then, you’ll understand.”

Bruce couldn’t tell Jason that he actually had five kids, including him. Wouldn’t tell him that’s he’d just unintentionally schooled him on his failures as a parent.

-------

Bruce leaves them together, a new formed family. And goes to reunite his own.

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fanfic-inator795 · 7 years

Text

Lego Batman Oneshot: Songbird

Plot: Being a crime fighter can sometimes be a balancing act. But every once in a while, things do manage to work out.

((I've got another one! ^v^ Hope you guys enjoy!))

Batman glanced down at the screen. Just above the map that was displayed on it, the digital clock read 7:25 PM. He scowled slightly. Sure, he was used to busy nights, but usually they didn’t really get going until later, usually around midnight. “Ugh...” Of course tonight of all nights had to be the rare exception-

“Dad! He’s-!”

“I’ve got it!” Slamming his foot on the gas, Batman flew passed the alleyway that their target had just turned into, deciding to instead take a sharp turn onto the street just a few buildings ahead of it. And, thanks to the Bat-Mobile’s speed and Batman’s skillful driving skills, they made it to the other side of the alleyway, just as the fiend was coming out of it.

The car screeched to a halt in front of the alley, causing the villain to freeze in his tracks. “There’s nowhere to run, Condiment King!” Batman told him, both he and Dick giving the pickle-headed man a stern glare.

But Condiment King sneered back at him. “Hmph, that’s what you think, Brät-Man!” As strange (and lame) as he was, the Condiment King certainly wasn’t about to go down without a fight! With that, he turned and tried to run back down the alley.

Unfortunately, after no more than a few steps forward, he felt something grab onto the back of his haul (Gotham’s entire supply of hotdog carts stuffed into a shipping container with wheels on it), trying to pull it away from him. But before he could try to pull it out of their grip, the villain then felt the hit of a well-aimed bat-a-rang sweeping him off his feet.

“Got it!” Dick grinned, pulling the container away while Batman just smirked. Another victory for the father-son dynamic duo, and since the cops probably knew what had happened and would be there soon, at least they wouldn’t have to spend too much longer there.

“You’ll regret stopping me!” Condiment King insisted as the dark knight tied his wrists to a nearby lamppost, wanting to keep him place until the police arrived, “Anyone could see that those carts were an abomination! I mean, what kind of hotdog cart only has ketchup and mustard?! No pickles? No onions? No sauerkraut?!”

“Uh, doesn’t sauerkraut usually go on bratwurst?” Dick questioned, which earned in him another glare from the villain.

“It can be put on hotdogs too! See, people like you just don’t understand the importance of good condi-!”

“Yeah yeah,” Batman interrupted, rolling his eyes, “I’m sure they’ve got plenty of condiments in prison. So, enjoy!” With that, the two heroes started to head back towards their car, but stopped when the sound of an alarm rang out. “What the-?”

“Look!” Dick pointed towards a shop just across the street from where they were standing. A pawn shop, to be specific, with plenty of valuables inside. With the alarm still blaring, a trio of criminals rushed outside - and froze when they saw the infamous Batman and Robin staring right at them.

Batman however, just gave them a flat look. “...Really, guys?”

Of course, the criminals didn’t reply. They just made a ran for it as fast as they could.

Dick wasn’t discouraged however. “Come on, Padre! Let’s get them-!”

“Wait.”

The boy stopped, giving his father a curious look. “I’ll get them,” Batman told him, “while you get going.”

“Huh? Wait, but-” “Hey Condiments, what time is it?” Batman asked, turning to look at the villain.

“Uh-” Condiment King twisted his wrist a bit to take a look at his watch. “7:40? Wh-?”

“Exactly,” Batman nodded, looking back at Dick, “You don’t have as much time to get there as I do. Didn’t they say they wanted you there early?”

“Well yeah, but...” Dick frowned. As much as he knew that his father was right, he still didn’t want to just leave him. They were a team, after all. He didn’t want to miss out on any of the crime-fighting fun, nor did he want his father to fight alone...

Batman’s gaze softened a bit. “Look, they’re just a few thieves, alright? So it’s not like you’ll be missing out on much. I’ll just grab them, get back whatever they stole, and then I’ll be on my way, okay? Promise.”

“...” Slowly, Dick gave a small, slightly reluctant smile. “Okay...”

"Good,” Batman nodded, handing him his Bat-Grappling Hook.

“Good luck!” Dick told him before launching the hook upwards, It hooked onto a high-up corner of a building, and within seconds he was rising up into the air (giving a small “Wee!” as he did so). As for Batman, he stayed just long enough to make sure his son had reached the top alright before racing across the street.

Even with three criminals on the run from him, it hadn’t been too much of a challenge - especially since they hadn’t been smart enough to split up. Once he found their trail, it was just a matter of catching up to them - which was pretty easy, despite the thieves getting a head start. ’Heh, who needs super speed when you’re Batman?’ the hero thought to himself.

A quick chase and a few more bat-a-rangs and punches later, and it was all over. It had been just as easy as Batman had predicted, and by the time he dragged the thieves back to the pawn shop, the police were already there, looking over the damage to the shop and arresting a ranting Condiment King.

Accepting their thanks as quickly as he could, he handed the criminals over and jumped back into the Bat-Mobile. ...Where the Bat-Phone was already ringing. Groaning, Batman reluctantly answered it. “Whaaaaat?”

“...Um, Sir?” a familiar voice answered after a moment.

“Oh. ...Uh, hey Alfred,” Batman replied, “What is it?”

“Well, Commissioner Barbara and I are here, as well as Master Dick, who just arrived a couple minutes ago. Though, he told us that you would be held up for a bit, and I just wanted to make sure that-”

“Don’t worry Alfred, it’s cool,” Batman insisted as he started up his car, “I just had to stop a few extra criminals, no big deal.” He looked at the digital clock again. 8:02 PM. He smiled. “I can get there in ten min-!”

Suddenly, a loud explosion in the distance interrupted him. Turning around, he could see a huge cloud of colorful smoke from several blocks behind him. There was only one villain around that could make their explosions that colorful... However, rather than being concerned, Batman just scowled. “Seriously?!” he shouted, as if his enemy could hear him.

“Master Bruce?”

Remembering he was still on the phone, the annoyed hero sat back down. “Ugh... Maybe you should add an extra five minutes onto that. Just, save me a seat, alright?!”

“Will do, Sir...” Not wanting to waste a second, Batman hung up the phone and slammed on the gas, making a quick U-Turn and speeding towards downtown. It didn’t take him long to hear that familiar laugh...

“Ah, nothing like adding a bit of color to our dull lives!” the Joker grinned as he launched another paint cannonball at a building. Along with covering it in a huge splatter, it managed to knock off several pieces, nearly causing it to collapse. “Or rather, to MY city!”

“And to think, I thought nothing could be more fun than smashing stuff,” Harley added as she skated around with her paint-ball bazooka, hitting nearly everything in-sight, “But smashing WHILE coloring is the best!”

The Joker giggled. “Of course it is! Buuuut-” He could hear the familiar sound of speeding tires and roaring rocket-engines coming towards them. “I have a feeling the real fun’s about to begin~”

Sure enough, the Bat-Mobile soon made its way onto the scene, its driver managing to dodge every single drop of paint that flew towards it. Of course, the Joker wasn’t discouraged.

“I really was hoping you’d join us,” he started to say as soon as Batman jumped out of the car (landing in a traditional superhero pose, of course), “I mean, after hearing that you had to chase down ol’ Ketchup and Mustard for Brains earlier, I just thought that I’d come in and give you a REAL fight~!”

“Listen-” Batman started to say, but the Joker just kept talking.

“And you know, Bats, while the yellow definitely isn’t bad, you really could use some more color-”

“Joker-”

“-Your birdy sidekick’s definitely got the right idea! Buuuut knowing you, you’ll want to stick to your dull, boring, no-fun black. Though-” Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out one of many paint bombs he had and brought his arm back, “I’m sure I could ‘help’ persuade yo-”

“JOKER!” Batman shouted, giving the clown a hard glare and not flinching at the weapon pointed at him whatsoever.

“...” Slowly, the Joker’s manic expression turned to one of annoyance. “What?” he asked, lowering the bomb.

“Look. Can we just... do this later?” the dark knight slowly asked, “Maybe just, wait until tomorrow night?”

The Joker gaped at him. “ExCUSE ME?” he asked, clearly offended, “Evil and creative masterminds don’t just postpone their amazing crimes just because their hero isn’t in the mood!” He lifted his arm again, taking aim, but his enemy remained persistent.

“It’s nothing personal!” Batman argued back at him, “I just have somewhere I need to be! So, from your greatest enemy to my greatest enemy-” The Joker paused, lowering his weapon a bit. That definitely caught his attention. “-could you just leave quietly and wait until tomorrow to continue this? And if you do that, I can promise you that tomorrow, I’ll give you an all-in, completely focused and one hundred percent epic fight! One that we’ll always remember!”

“...” The Joker hummed, biting his lip slightly. Honestly, that DID sound pretty tempting, but even so... “Just what is this other thing you have to be at that’s just soooo important?”

Batman sighed slightly, knowing fully well the Joker wouldn’t back down if he didn’t tell him. So, he gave him an honest answer.

...And honestly, the Joker didn’t really know what to say to it. “Oh, wow... Uh, well-” At least he wasn’t going off to fight another villain instead. And, really, even as a villain, the Joker could still sort of understand. “Well... I GUESS I can wait until tomorrow to continue all this. Maybe take some extra time to make sure I’ve got plenty of toys for you to play with. And I guess it’s for the best, since fighting you while you’re all distracted and just trying to rush through it would be the worst.”

“Right,” Batman said simply, giving the clown a small nod in an attempt to show just a bit of appreciation.

“So, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow night. Just make sure you don’t disappoint. And don’t be expecting me to do stuff like this all the time, Batsy!” the Joker scowled, “Greatest enemies aren’t usually this nice! You’re just lucky that I have some standards!”

“Hmph, got it,” Batman nodded again, smiling slightly. Despite everything, the Joker smiled back while Harley reluctantly skated towards their car to put away her bazooka.

Seeing that they weren’t going to try anything funny (no pun intended), Batman got back into the car, and- “Gasp!” It was already 8:19 PM?! “’Puter, enter into Autopilot Mode and get us to the Gotham Concert Hall ASAP!” he ordered.

“Yes Sir,” the computer answered. Tires screeching, the Bat-Mobile turned back around and shot forward as it morphed into it’s jet-plane form. As this was being done, Batman got into the back seat and started to change outfits as quickly as he could.

By the time they landed and the Bat-Mobile morphed into it’s ‘civilian mode’, Batman had changed into his usual white tux and was ready to go! Though, before he got out, he quickly realized that he still had his cowl on. “Ugh, right.”

Not wanting to waste anymore time, he simply pulled it off and tossed it onto the floor of the car before making a run for it. His hair popped back into place just as he reached the front door, and when he arrived at the volunteer-ran ticket table, he simply put down a huge stack of bills.

“Keep the change,” he said simply, taking a moment to flash his infamously charming Bruce Wayne smile. The woman at the table, while clearly surprised, still smiled back at him as he handed him the ticket. “Thanks!” he told her before racing into the theater. “Okay, now where-”

“Oh, Master Bruce!” “There he is, finally!”

Thankfully, it didn’t take him long to spot Alfred and Barbara waving him over to their seats. “You were almost late,” Barbara told him.

“I know I know, I’m sorry,” Bruce replied, “But, hey, I still got here in time.” He made it, just like he said he would. And in his opinion, that was all that mattered.

And, as it turned out, he had made it with just a couple seconds to spare. The moment he sat down, the lights dimmed and the curtain in front of them opened up, revealing the Gotham City Children's Choir - consisting mostly of orphans, with all of the kids wearing baby-blue suits and dresses.

Of course, it was pretty easy to spot Dick among them, and while the boy started off with a bit of a frown, as soon as he saw all three members of his family in the audience smiling at him, there was nothing he could do to stop himself from grinning.

The piano started playing, and after a couple seconds, the kids happily began to sing.

()()()()()()()()()

“So did you all like it?” Dick asked.

“Of course we did!” Barbara told him, giving the boy a quick hug.

“It was a very lovely concert, Master Dick,” Alfred added, “And you should be very proud of your performance.”

“Yeah,” Bruce smiled, patting his son’s shoulder, “Great job, kid.”

Dick smiled back at them, giggling a bit. “Thanks guys! You’re the best! And, thanks again for coming.” As much as he always liked singing in front of others, it was nice to have actual family in the audience.

“No problem. So, how’s about we get you some ice cream for a job - er, concert - well done?”

“Yeah!” Dick cheered. Though, after a moment, he added, “Hey Dad? Afterwards, do you think maybe we could go out on patrol again for a couple hours?” Knowing Gotham, it wouldn’t stay quiet and peaceful for long. The city would need its heroes again soon enough.

But despite knowing this fact as well, Bruce couldn’t help but be a bit surprised at the fact that Dick was the one suggesting it. “Wait, really? Even after-?”

“Yeah!” his son nodded, still smiling brightly, “Why wouldn’t I want to?”

“...Heh.” Bruce gave a soft smirk. “Good point...” Even with the occasional frustrations sometimes involved with it, it looked like Dick had the same passion for crime fighting and saving the day (and night) that he did. And, while it maybe wasn’t the best thing to encourage a child to do, Bruce still couldn’t help but find it a bit comforting.

“Hey, it’s really not that late,” Barbara spoke up, giving a small smirk herself, “So maybe we could even join you guys? Four heroes are better than one, after all.”

Of course, Dick had no objections to that, and neither did Bruce. “Sounds good to me. But ice cream first,” he told them as he started walking forward.

“Heh, yeah!” His son agreed, “With some whipped cream on it, maybe?”

“Ooh yeah. And if you’re going to have whipped cream, you might as well add chocolate syrup.” “Right! And caramel!” “And chocolate chips.” “And-!”

“Don’t make yourselves sick,” Barbara told them, though her concern didn’t stop her from looking amused at the whole conversation.

“Yes,” Alfred added, “trying to fight on a full stomach could be, erm, disastrous...”

“Don’t worry, we’ll be fine!” Bruce insisted as he opened the theater lobby door, “It’ll take more than some sweets to bring us down!” “If you say so...”

As the family of four exited the building, none of them noticed the tiny drone watching from a corner...

“It is sorta cute to see, don’cha think?” Harley asked, still smiling at the tablet screen.

“Eh, I guess,” the Joker shrugged, trying to seem indifferent even if he was smiling slightly as well. Honestly, he had only flown in a drone just to see what all the fuss was about. And, while he still understood why Batman had chosen it over him, he still couldn’t exactly call it a ‘good’ choice.

“Those kids though, they should really try to liven up their song list,” he told her, rolling his eyes a bit, “I mean, a couple of them were alright but, where’s the silly and fun songs? The nonsensical songs? The songs that sound innocent but are actually dark when you think about the lyrics too much? You know, the laughs!”

“Aw well. I guess not everyone’s as good of a showman as you are, Mister J,” Harley told him.

The Joker chuckled. “That’s definitely true... And speaking of which-” He stood up from his chair. “Come on, Harley, we should get preparing for tomorrow’s show~”

Sure, the night had admittedly been fairly disappointing, but that was now the past. It was time to look to the future, the Joker was going to make sure that the following night would be a real hoot! But really though, there wasn’t much doubt in the clown’s mind that their postponed battle would be just as great his enemy insisted it would be.

After all, Batman always keeps his promises.

THE END

((I like the idea of Dick still being in that choir that we saw at Commissioner Gordon’s gala, even if he’s not an orphan anymore. He just seems like the kind of kid who would still enjoy being in it ^v^ Anyway, hope you guys liked this! And also, thanks again for all the likes and reblogs on my last two Lego Batman fics. You guys are awesome!))

#lego batman movie #lego batman #lego robin #lego joker #dick grayson #my writing #oneshot #fanfiction

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trancowboy · 7 years

Note

love your works so much, if you are still taking prompts/suggestions... SuperSterek AU, pretty please? thank you!

I’ve been dying to write some more superhero AUs, so I should be the one thanking you, sweet anon.♥

[ Also on AO3. ]

Metropolis.

Population of approximately eleven million people,overseen by mayor Fleming – all previous mayors dead or corrupted,some both. Jury’s still out on this one. Home of the MetropolisSpartans and the United States’ favorite alien and most belovedsuperhero, Superman.

When Superman came to Earth, Stiles had watched inawe and wonder as the news and media went haywire over his arrival.He had been back in Beacon Hills, California back then, watching andholding his breath along with the rest of the world as the previouslyunknown alien showed himself to be good. To be a hero, continuously.

Growing up, Stiles had been just like any other kid;fascinated by superheroes and dressing up like one at any givenopportunity, wearing blankets over his shoulders and running aroundin his house and in the backyard and up and down the street,pretending to be the kind of hero he read about.

So when a real life superhero – an alien, but itcounted – came to Earth and saved people and was the hero he, as akid, had pretended to be, Stiles wanted nothing more than to watch ithappen up close.

He worked his ass off at the police academy and saidhis farewells to the little town of Beacon Hills, when he got a jobat Metropolis’ police department, excited and happy and nervous to bemoving to the home town of the famous superhero.

It had now been a good four months since he hadmoved there, and Stiles found it utterly and completely … boring.

“You can’t be serious,” Erica Reyes – hispartner on the force and first friend in Metropolis – said flatly.

“I’m completely serious,” retorted Stiles, as hedid yet another spin in his office chair, the chair he was laid outon, head tilted back against the headrest and a pencil balancedbetween his upper lip and nose. “I’m so bored, this,” hegestured to himself pointedly, “is what I’ve come to forentertainment.”

Erica snorted, and Stiles glanced her way. She wasstill sitting by her own desk, phone in hand and thumb movingabsently over the screen. Her eyes were on him though, watching himwith amusement.

The police station was as loud as it always was;phones ringing and officers talking among each other, and Stiles hadbeen spinning around in his chair and had resorted to findentertainment from his desk utensils for the past hour.

It was, to say it nicely, absolute hell.

Boredom, however, was bound to come to an end inMetropolis. For at least a little while.

Stiles was on his hundredth spin in his chair, aball of paper falling back into his hands, when commissioner Corporoncame stalking out of his office and said, with his voice booming likeit did every day, “Stilinski! Reyes! Bank robbery in New Town.Handle it.”

Stiles flew out of his chair in the wink of an eye,only just yelling out, “Finally!” before he stormed out of thestation, leaving Erica to gather a few other officers with a roll ofher eyes.

Truth to be told though, he didn’t just rush out ofthere because boredom was eating away at his brain. That was onlyhalf the reason. The other half was the exact same reason he hadmoved to Metropolis in the first place, the reason his job had becomeboring rather than exciting like he had thought and hoped it wouldbe.

Superman.

Stiles only just got a foot out of the policecruiser when Erica slammed on the breaks by the bank currently beingrobbed, before there was a sudden rush of air flying past him, and hespotted a red cape flapping in the wind and disappearing into thebuilding.

Hand on the gun by his hip, he turned to look atErica, assuming she was on her way out of the other side of thecruiser. She wasn’t. Instead, she was still in her seat and lookedunbothered and completely disinterested.

“Seriously?” he questioned, giving her a look ofdisbelief. “You’re just gonna sit there and let that jackass do allthe work for you?”

Without taking her eyes off of her phone she hadfished out of her pocket, Erica said, “Yep,” pooping the p.

Stiles groaned and rolled his eyes. With a shake ofhis head, he rushed toward the bank entrance, gun in his hands eventhough the alarm had stopped and there were no sounds of fighting orgunfire anymore. He knew what had happened, of course. He had seenSuperman fly in there after all, but he was still going to do hisdamn job.

Even if lately, there hadn’t been much of a job todo. Not for him, at least.

Because Superman was always there to save the day,no matter how big or how small the amount of trouble he was in was.And apparently, Stiles was the only one at the station who couldn’tdo his job. Apparently, Superman didn’t go around saving every otherofficer in Metropolis, just him. Always him.

Frankly, it was annoying, and Stiles was gettingreal tired of it.

Appreciated it, sure, but he didn’t go throughmonths of hard work at the academy to just have some superhero do hisjob for him every. single. time. Honestly, didn’t the guy havesomething better to do, like fight other aliens or meta humans orthrow some punches with the bat over in Gotham?

And surprise, surprise. Just like every other time,Superman had managed to knock out the criminals and was walking backoutside by the time Stiles had taken maybe ten steps toward theentrance. Stiles sighed heavily as he shoved his gun back in itsholster.

“Saved the day again, huh,” he said, not eventrying to keep the annoyance out of his voice or off of his face thistime. Not that Superman seemed to notice anyway, because he just sendhim that stupidly kind smile, that had Stiles’ knees going weak andhis fanboy heart pounding the first few weeks of this.

Now, he just glared in return.

“Looks like it, yeah,” said Superman, the smilenot faltering as he turned to watch the other officers – Ericaincluded, the smirking bastard – rush into the bank with handcuffsready.

Stiles hummed noncommittally. He turned, ready tofollow his partner into the bank, but then Superman spoke up again.

“So,” he said, stepped closer. The smile wassofter now. “What have you been up to lately?”

Lately, Stiles guessed, meant the last seventeenhours where they hadn’t seen each other. Seventeen hours since thelast call that Superman had saved Stiles from. Or rather, interruptedhim in the middle of.

“Oh, you know,” Stiles said with a shrug, tryingto be as obvious as he possibly could be that he was done with theconversation via body language. Superman was an alien, though, and heprobably didn’t catch on. Scratch that, he definitely didn’t. “Justthe usual. Becoming a pro paper ball player. Managed to dunk it inthe trashcan from my desk on only the seventh try. New record.”

Superman laughed and opened his mouth to saysomething else, probably something flirty because that was what hedid occasionally, but in the wink of an eye, his entire face changed.His jaw clenched as his head whipped around, shoulders tense andhands curling into fists.

After months of this, Stiles was able to recognizethat look. It was the look Superman always had whenever he heardsomething Stiles’ human ears would never be able to pick up.

“I have to go,” Superman announced. He bend downin his knees and then jumped, flying up into the air and leavingStiles to watch him soar across the city.

Stiles only watched after him for a second too long,before he scoffed, muttered, “Dick,” to himself, and headed forthe bank to help his fellow officers.

It wasn’t all bad in Metropolis, if Stiles was beingcompletely honest. He had a great partner, lived in a decently sizedapartment on a somewhat quiet street, had a few acquaintances hereand there, and, of course, the dorky reporter that had taken claim ofhis heart the second Stiles had laid eyes on him.

Derek Hale, reporter at Daily Planet. He was by farthe best part of all of Metropolis, and Stiles was completely andutterly smitten with him and his dorky glasses and nerdy personalityand social awkwardness and tendency to blush at pretty mucheverything Stiles said to him.

There was just one problem; Erica was Derek’s bestfriend, and Stiles wasn’t sure if that was a blessing or a curse.

It was a blessing because Derek visited her at thestation a lot, which meant Stiles got to see him too, and there was anearly daily opportunity for the flirtations that Stiles seized towhenever he could. Just to see that adorable flush Derek always did,the way he stammered out an uncertain response, and the way he almostalways nearly bumped into something or someone on his way back out.

A blessing because Erica was an insight to Derek,but a curse because Stiles was definitely not subtle about his crush.He knew Erica knew and if Erica and Derek were anything like Stilesand his best friend, then they told each other everything.

Which meant Derek most likely knew how he felt. Andconsidering the lack of flirting back, that meant he wasn’tinterested or he was taken. Or straight, but god, Stiles reallyfucking hoped not.

That would just be typical though, wouldn’t it? Moveto a new place, fall for a straight boy. Perfect.

Worst of all, Erica refused – always refused,no matter how much he begged and bribed and pleaded – to tell himanything about Derek.

Case and point; exactly one hour after they hadreturned from the scene of the crime back at the bank, the criminalsbehind locked bars.

“Heads up,” Erica called out, pulling Stiles outof his report writing zone. She stood up from her desk with a grin onher lips and her brows waggling in a teasing and suggestive way. “Theman of your heart is about to be here, and you look like you’ve justrolled out of bed.” She turned toward the front of the station,calling out over her shoulder, “And not in the sexy way!”

Stiles scrambled, the pen immediately flying out ofhis hand. His hands flew to his head, and he tried to fix hissupposed bedhead as quickly as he could. Quickly, because he couldsee Derek coming in through the front doors, already smiling at Ericaand shifting his messenger bag out of the way to greet her with ahug.

By the time Derek and Erica stepped fully into thestation, Stiles was leaning back on his chair and tried to look ascasual as he possibly could. Which, judging by Erica’s quirked andjudgmental brow, wasn’t actually working. Not even a little bit.

“'Sup, Derek,” he greeted him, grinning lightlywhen Derek met his eyes and blushed just a little, ears going red.“Looking good today.”

And he did. With his pale plaid shirt perfectlyfitted across his chest – honestly, how could a person this big ofa nerd be this well in shape, Stiles would never be able tounderstand it, but he very much appreciated it – and dorky glassesin place and that dumb messenger bag he always carried with him.

He was adorable, and Stiles threw a wink after hisstatement, beaming in delight when he saw Derek’s ears burn brightred.

“Hey, Stiles,” Derek greeted back and fidgetedslightly with the strap of his bag.

Erica looked between the two of them for a second,then rolled her eyes and sighed heavily as she moved back to herdesk. “You two are ridiculous,” she muttered quietly.

Stiles only just heard her because she was closer tohim now, and apparently Derek heard her too because he ducked hishead and his ears burned.

“Fuck,” Stiles let out in a lowered breath, eyesfirmly glued to Derek. And when Derek looked back at him through hislashes, Stiles cleared his throat and looked down at his report.

“Anyway,” he heard Erica say, her chair whiningas she spun around. “Derek, you wanted that statement, right?”

Stiles immediately snapped his eyes back up to seeDerek nodding and moving over to Erica’s desk. “Oh, you’re writinga section on the robbery?”

Derek looked at him and said, “Yeah, boss wouldusually have me writing the sports section and put Jimmy on theSuperman front, but Jimmy’s taking a trip to National City, so I gotput on it.”

“Well,” Stiles drawled, turning his chairslightly. “If you want, I’ve got my report right here,” hepointed down at it. “You could take a look at it, and I can tellyou all about it.”

Derek smiled at him and slowly shuffled over. “Yeah?Thank you, Stiles.”

“Anytime, Derek,” Stiles replied easily,returning his smile.

Derek stood and took notes, as he intently listenedto Stiles going over the robbery and how Superman saved the day,again. He tried not to let it slip that he found it a littlebit (read: a lot) annoying, but it just, y'know, slipped, and Derekfrowned at him for a second, before he continued to take notes.

When he was done and finished, Derek left with ahalf hug from Erica, and Stiles sighed dreamily after him.

He was silent for all of two seconds, before heturned to Erica and asked, “Dude, is he single? And very notstraight?”

The snort that escaped from Erica was stupidlyridiculous and long and, honestly, gross, and the snort developedinto a loud laughter, as she rose from her seat and sauntered away.

“That’s not an answer, Reyes!” Stiles yelledafter her, and her laughter only got louder.

“Fuck,” Stiles grunted as his back slammedagainst the concrete wall. His gun was tightly clenched in his hands,and gunfire sounded all around him.

He looked to his left where two officers coweredfurther to one side, bullets ricocheting off of the other side. Helooked to his right, where Erica was flinching each time a bulletwent anywhere near her, and he cursed quietly to himself three timesin a row.

What had been a seemingly simple store robbery hadbecome a shootout the second they had showed up to interrupt therobbers, and they were pinned down. The robbers were bound to run outof bullets sometime, but a lot could happen until then.

For instance, they could get away and Stiles wasn’thaving that. This was the first time it looked like he was going tobe able to do his job in months, after all, and he’d be damned if hewasn’t going to do it right.

Panting, Stiles reached for his radio and brought itto his lips. “211, requesting backup!” he yelled over thegunfire. He opened his mouth to repeat it, when there was a rustle ofwind and something- someone landing to his immediate right.

“Okay, never mind,” he breathed into the radio,eyes on Superman giving him a reassuring smile.

Stiles watched as Superman turned to the robbers,bullet ricocheting off of his chest and landing on the ground aroundhis feet, and he watched as Superman’s eyes shot lasers at therobbers. He watched as Superman took in a deep, deep breath and blewa massive amount of wind toward the robbers, and he listened as theshooting stopped and the robbers yelped and were knocked out asbodies thumped against concrete.

Heaving a sigh, Stiles slumped against the wall andlowered his gun, while Erica and the other officers stormed out fromtheir cover spots and ran to the knocked out robbers. Meanwhile,Stiles took a second to breathe before he stood up and turned toSuperman, who was giving him that stupidly perfect smile.

“Thanks, Supes,” he said, keeping his expressioncarefully displeased. “Really saved our asses right there.”

But Superman’s smile just widened as he nodded andsaid, “I’m just here to help, officer Stilinski.”

“Yeah,” Stiles said, and even to his own ears hesounded bitter. Just a little bit. “You sure did.”

The thing was, Stiles suddenly didn’t find Supermanthat annoying anymore. The guy did just save their lives, after all,but he also prevented him from doing his goddamn job yet again, sono. Stiles wasn’t going to be like the rest of the damn city and kisshis ass or drop to his knees in thanks.

Guy wasn’t all bad, though.

Superman smiled at him, looked over at the otherofficers, and then flew off. And Stiles looked after him for a fewseconds too long, before Erica pointedly cleared her throat.

Stiles rubbed his hands together and grinned down atthe sandwich laying on the plate in front of him. “Fuck, you guys,I am starving,” he told his lunch companions, before he reacheddown and wrapped his hands around the sandwich, carefully picking itup.

Erica snorted to his left, while Derek huffed to hisright, but he paid them no attention and just started devouring thesandwich. His teeth sunk into it and he practically moaned as thefirst bite landed in his mouth. He knew he heard Derek clear histhroat, saw him squirming in his seat, and Stiles probably havegrinned widely and winked at him, but he was a little preoccupied.

“Fuck,” he moaned as he chewed. “I’m gonnacream my pants, this is so fucking delicious.”

“Do we need to leave you and the sandwich alonefor a minute?” Erica teasingly asked, and Stiles glanced at her.She was grinning widely back at him.

Snorting, he said, “Please. I don’t finish in aminute. I’d need, like, a whole day to make sweet, sweet love to thisone.” Except his words were muffled by the huge bite of sandwich hehad taken a second ago, and what he said was barely audible.

That didn’t stop him from looking at Derek andthrowing him a wink, though.

Derek flushed and rolled his eyes at him, shakinghis head lightly. “Doubt you’ve got the stamina for that,” hemuttered quietly, almost too quietly, but Stiles caught it.

Stiles turned to him and gaped, uncaring of thechewed sandwich bite still in his mouth. Erica called him gross, andStiles said, “You are a fucking asshole, Hale,” but there was agrin on his lips and amusement in his voice. “Be careful or youmight taint your perfect Good Guy image.”

“Maybe it could use a little tainting,” saidDerek, and Stiles could have sworn there was a bit of flirtation inhis voice. The look Derek was giving him, however? That wasdefinitely flirting.

Stiles sunk his front teeth into his bottom lip andlooked back, sandwich momentarily forgotten. Derek was so much betterthan an orgasmic sandwich, anyway.

Erica clearing her throat pointedly startled theboth of them out of their prolonged eye contact. “So Stiles,” shesaid with a sweet smile when they both turned to look at her. “Whatare your thoughts on Superman?”

If Stiles had looked at Derek, he would see himglaring daggers at Erica, silently telling her to shut up. But he waslooking at Erica, so he didn’t see.

He groaned loudly and threw his head back for amoment. “Oh my God, he’s so annoying!” he complained loudly. “Andhe’s so boring too. Like, the dude’s too perfect, ya know? He’simpenetrable and immune to everything, I’m guessing. He’s superstrong and has fucking laser beams for eyes and can make a hurricanewith his mouth and fucking fly and all that crap, and itjust,” he shrugged, “it gets so boring, doesn’t it?”

Erica hummed noncommittally, Derek was quiet, andStiles continued. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, Superman’s probablya super nice guy, but it’s infuriating! He’s so flawless, it’sannoying. The bat in Gotham, though? That guy is interesting.”

Erica hummed again and asked, “So you don’t likeSuperman?”

Stiles lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “He’sokay, I guess. Just really annoying, that he constantly swoops in andsaves the day. I haven’t been able to do my job in months! I didn’twork my ass of at the academy to have some alien asshole do it forme,” he finished and leaned forward in his seat with a huff.

He picked his sandwich up and moved to take a bite,when his eyes moved to his right and saw Derek frowning down at hislunch. Which was when it hit him.

“Oh shit,” said Stiles, lowering his sandwichand looking apologetically at Derek. “Fuck, I just totally insultedyour hero. I’m so sorry, Derek, I’m sure he’s a nice guy and all-”

“He’s not my hero,” Derek said sharply,interrupting whatever Stiles was going to say next. Without lookingup, he stood up and grabbed his messenger bag. “I’m gonna go backto work,” he said and left before Stiles could utter a single word.

A worried crease appeared between Stiles’ brows ashe watched Derek storm off. He really fucked up there, didn’t he?

“Shit,” he muttered quietly to himself, thenturned to Erica. She was frowning too, looking after Derek with aworried look in her eyes. “Did I just hurt his feelings?”

Erica looked at him, took a second, then shrugged.She said nothing though, and Stiles was left feeling like the totalasshole he probably was.

Balancing the plastic tray over-filled out withtake-out coffee cups, Stiles slowly pried the door to the policestation open and slipped inside. He was careful not to spill thecoffee, flashbacks to the time he actually did and ended up scoldinghimself and another officer playing in his mind on repeat.

“Careful,” he muttered quietly to himself andlet go of the door after it closed, so he could grab the tray withboth hands. The tip of his tongue stuck out between his slightlyparted lips, as he maneuvered further into the station, eyes firmlyon the tray as he walked.

Which, retrospectively, probably wasn’t a good idea.He should probably be looking where he was going, but he didn’t.

He did, however, make it inside without trippingover himself and his own dumb feet or bumping into anyone or spillingthe coffees, so he took it as a win either way.

It was when he was just ten small steps into thestation, that he lifted his gaze and looked up, instantly spottingDerek standing by Erica’s desk. The two of the were talking in hushedvoices, and Derek looked nervous or maybe scared or maybe both, whileErica was fixing him the You’re An Idiot look, that she had givenStiles plenty of times in the past.

Slowly, Stiles walked closer and caught the tail-endof their conversation.

“Honestly, you should just tell him,” saidErica.

“Are you insane?” Derek almost exclaimed, but ina hushed voice. “I can’t just tell him, he’d hate me!”

Curiosity got the best of Stiles right then andthere, and he walked over and interrupted with, “Tell who what?”

Immediately, the atmosphere changed. Derek’s faceclosed off as he stood back up after having hunched down to thehushed conversation, and Erica shot him only a quick look, before shereached out for her coffee.

“Nothing,” was Derek’s quick reply. He scratchedthe back of his neck – a nervous habit that Stiles had noticed –and his eyes flickered around almost nervously. “I, uh… I’m gonnaget back to work,” he decided with a nod.

Stiles frowned, just slightly. “Are you sure? Imean, you’re not still mad at me for thinking Superman is lame, areyou?”

Erica huffed into her coffee, and Derek shook hishead, a little smile tugging at his lips. “No, I was never mad atyou for that, Stiles. I should get back to work, though. I’ve got asports section to take care of.”

Stiles nodded, a quick few bops of his head. “Yeah,okay,” he said with a half shrug. “See you around, then.”

Derek nodded back at him, shared a look with Ericathat Stiles guessed was significant and probably a silentconversation, and then he left. But not before nearly bumping into anofficer coming walking past him, and Stiles smiled fondly.

There was the Derek he knew and liked so much.

“What was that about?” Stiles found himselfasking, as he turned to Erica.

Erica glanced his way only momentarily, before shesighed and said, “It’s not my thing to tell, Stiles. If he wantsyou to know, he’ll tell you eventually.”

She turned away then and sat down at her desk,taking a sip of her coffee. Stiles frowned, confused and worried thatwhatever Derek wasn’t telling him was something bad. But he shook itoff and moved around to sit at his own desk, turning to Erica.

“So hey, guess what,” he started, putting on acrooked grin. “You know how Superman always shows up to do my job,right?” Erica looked up, interested. “I finally figured out why.Well, at least I think so.”

“Oh really?” she drawled and leaned forward. “Dotell.”

“Isn’t it obvious? He’s got a crush one me!”

Erica was mid-sip when he said it, and she chokedand spluttered, coffee going everywhere on her desk. And splutteringand coughing turned into laughing – a laughing that just would notstop, tears prickling at her eyes.

“What’s so funny?” Stiles asked in a raisedvoice, because her laughter was just so loud. “I’m being serious!”

“Oh God, stop,” she wheezed, waving a hand infront of her. “You’re gonna kill me.”

“Stop laughing at me, I’m serious!”

Her laughter subsided just a little, and she wipedcarefully under her eyes. “God,” she let out in a chucklingbreath. “I know you’re serious, that’s what’s funny.”

“What, so you don’t think Superman has a crush onme?”

And the laughter started again, and Stiles threw hishands up.

Days off were both a blessing and a curse.

A blessing because Stiles got to laze around in hissweatpants and baggy tees, skip his shower and morning run. Ablessing because he could catch up on the sleep he had been missingfor the past couple of months since his last full day off, and catchup on shows he had been putting off watching and been avoidingspoilers like the plague about.

But days off were a curse, because he so often gotbored with just lazing around and doing nothing.

Not this time, though. No, this time he didn’t getout of bed until ten am, ate cereal in his underwear on the couchwhile watching children’s cartoons, and then spend the rest of theday not moving his ass from the couch.

Only for a few minutes to put on some sweatpants,brush his teeth, and get some more food.

There was a bowl half filled with cooling pasta andsauce on the coffee table and Stiles was spread out on his two personcouch, when there was a series of rapid and determined knocks on hisdoor. Craning his head around, he glanced at the door, then sighedand threw his head onto the arm of the couch.

The knocks came again a minute after, and Stilesfinally pulled himself up from his laze position with a groan. “I’mcoming!” he called out, when there were another few knocks, softerthis time.

He stretched his arms over his head on his way overto the door, back and shoulders popping and a groan escaping him.Being on the couch all day; not such a good idea, after all. Thoughtwas good, but reality? Not so much.

Rolling his shoulders once or twice, he reached outfor the handle and opened the door, faltering only slightly when hesaw who was on the other side.

“Derek,” he said, offering said reporter aslightly hesitant smile. “Hey. What are you doing here?”

Derek’s face was hard and guarded, not an expressionStiles had ever seen on him. His brows were furrowed and only justpopped up behind the frame of his glasses, his eyes full of…something. Nerves? Yeah, the guy looked nervous as all hell, soStiles said nothing and waited.

“I have something to tell you,” Derek finallysaid, chest rising and falling as his breath quickened.

Stiles nodded and stepped aside, gesturing for himto come inside, which Derek did. There was no dumb, nerdy messengerbag slung over his shoulders, but the outfit was still the same as italways was. Nerdy and dorky and so Derek, that his facial expressioncompletely threw Stiles off.

“So, what’s up?” Stiles asked and closed thedoor behind them, before he followed Derek further into the smallapartment. There really wasn’t much to it. The kitchen and livingroom were between the same walls, and it were only the bedroom andbathroom that got their own doors. At least it had nice lighting andgood wi-fi.

“Well,” Derek started with a heavy sigh, hishead ducked down slightly but eyes on Stiles. Bashful. “There’s noeasy way to say this, so I’m just going to get straight to thepoint.”

“Okay,” said Stiles slowly, nerves spiking inhim as well.

A silence followed, before Derek took in a deepbreath and said, “I’m Superman.”

Stiles blinked. Then blinked again. “Um, what?”

Derek ducked his head, clearly hesitated, thenbrought his hands up and slid off his glasses. And when he lookedback at up, he repeated himself, and Stiles stopped breathing andstarted gaping, eyes widening.

“Holy shit,” he let out in a rush of a breath.“You’re Superman.”

Panic replaced the nerves that had previous rushedthrough him. Not because he was afraid of Superman, but because-

“I insulted you!” Stiles exclaimed in a squeak,hands flailing. “To your face! Multiple times!”

Derek’s face went from guarded and hard to fallinginto an almost sad one, and he lifted a shoulder in a half shrug.“You didn’t know.” He paused for a moment, taking in a deepbreath. “But now you do, so I’ll just leave you alone from now on.”

Derek made it exactly three steps past Stiles,before Stiles flew out of his freaked out state, grabbed his elbow,and pulled him back. His hands flew to his glasses-free face, and hehauled him in to kiss him. Square on the mouth, no hesitation.

And Derek, after letting out a surprised noise,kissed him back, arms circling around Stiles’ middle as their lipsslid together.

The kiss was great, almost exactly how he imaginedkissing Derek would be, and Stiles sighed into it. It was great butshort lived, when Derek pulled back and said, “Wait, wait.”

Stiles whined and leaned in to kiss him again, butDerek just leaned further back. “You don’t hate me?” he asked,brows furrowed with confusion but eyes shining with happiness.

Stiles rolled his eyes and snorted. “No, dumbass.”He leaned in, pecking Derek’s lips quickly. “But you really need tolet me do my damn job, or else this isn’t going to work. At all.”

Derek’s smile was almost blinding. “Okay,” hesaid in a lowered voice, then leaned in to kiss him again, and Stileskissed him back.

It wasn’t for long this time either, however,because then Derek’s arms tightened around Stiles and Stiles wasreminded of his inhuman strength.

“Oh my God,” he breathed as he pulled back, eyeswide and lips pulled back in a wide grin. “You could totally justpick me up and fuck me against a wall, couldn’t you?”

Derek laughed and shook his head fondly. “Babysteps, Stiles.”

#eternalsterek #sterek #supersterek #otp: you need me to survive #prompts #look i'm writing #anonymous #answered

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jamikaheffner · 5 years

Text

My Survivor Story

About three weeks ago on Instagram, I shared something that not only healed me but also changed my world.

On October 16th, I shared a post and seriously thought about deleting it. I was scared that people didn’t believe me. This fear runs deep, because my parents didn’t. Growing up and into adulthood, I learned that being silent was the best way. But this silence ate me up. I was smiling on the outside, but inside I felt trapped, scared, and alone.

After sharing that post, I couldn’t stop writing. I wanted to share the truth. Post 2 was the hardest, because I felt like I was in court again. After posting it, I felt nauseous and anxious. And again retracted to the thought of deleting it. A reader messaged me and said… you can’t delete your posts because our stories are on it too now. You’re deleting our truths as well. Her comment completely changed my perspective.

I want to share my story here as well, because I want you to know that you’re not alone. To all survivors out there, my heart is forever with you.

Part 1 – October 16, 2018

I wanted to post this photo for weeks now, but kept on pushing it back. I think my fear was that if I post it, it would be real. And the reality is that I don’t remember this little girl. I don’t remember when the photos were taken (it’s me on the top row and my brother on the bottom). I don’t remember much of my childhood. My earliest clear memory was probably when I was 8. I do have blurry memories of when I was 5 or so. And they’re not really memories, they’re more like burn marks seared in my brain. I remember my cousin laying on top of me and saying ‘don’t tell grandma’. I remember the floor tiles feeling cold and I remember just staring straight ahead. This was not the last time this happened.

Part 2 – October 17, 2018

The abuse didn’t stop at 5. I thought I escaped it when I left Vietnam. When we got to America, we didn’t have much. For my parents to cover some of the bills, they rented out one of the bedrooms to another cousin. And the sexual abuse started again when he moved in. I was 12. He told me… if you tell your parents about this, they won’t love you anymore. I believed him and I didn’t say a single word. But inside, I felt like dying. And I did. I tried to kill myself by shallowing pills at 14. Another cousin intervened and stopped me before I could finish the bottle. The first cousin moved out and this cousin who intervened moved in taking over his room.

I thought the nightmare was over. The second cousin ended up abusing me from 14 to 15. At 15 years old, I knew I couldn’t live this way. I told my parents and the first cousin was right… in a way, my fear came true. They didn’t believe me. I called my friend’s mother, who happened to be a teacher and she took me away. I ended up being placed in foster care (my foster sisters and foster mother in the photos above). We went to trial, and in the end, the first cousin got 6 years in prison and the second one got community service. The irony is that the one who got the prison sentence was a correction officer.

They combined got 6 years and I’m still struggling with my pain. I’ve been through talk therapy, cognitive behavioral therapy, EMDR, physical therapy, was diagnosed with PTSD and depression, my pelvic area has been damaged from the trauma and I struggle with managing my PTSD and depression to this day. His prison was bars and cement walls, my prison is the echo chambers of my own mind reliving the events. But by sharing my story, I’m closer to feeling free than ever before.

Part 3 – October 18, 2018

There’s a reason why I’m sharing all of this [part 1/3 and part 2/3] now. In about two weeks, I’m going to see my parents and relatives. The last time I saw most of them was in court 20 years ago. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

I don’t have a relationship with my parents to this day. What hurt me the most was that in court, they sat on his side, they were his character witnesses, and they defended him. The last conversation I had with my mother was over the phone and I asked… if you saw it, why didn’t you stop him? She hung up on me. The scars from my cousins are deep, but to be honest with you, the scars from my parents not believing me and not being there for me run deeper. I grew up fearing my parents. But deep down, I always thought they’d be there for me. When they weren’t, my world fell apart. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

My brother is getting married in less than 3 weeks (he and I are in the photo above) on November 3rd and they’re coming. My brother and I are very close. I’m helping him with the wedding, I wrote my speeches months ago, and I’m officiating the wedding. But now that it’s less than a month away, the depression, anxiety, and PTSD are hitting me like a semi truck. The memories, the shame, the fear, are flooding back. For so many years, I thought I was safe because I’d never have to see them again. But now in order to be in the same room as them, I have to set myself free. And I want to be free so badly! So this is it… this is my truth, my release, my story. And unlike last time when I was alone in court, this time I have my brother, Colin, and women from all over the world standing right next to me.

After November 3, 2018

I wish I had a traditional happy ending to share, but to be honest with you, this is probably the best ending I could ask for. When the ceremony started, I got up there with my officiant script and waited for the procession. My mother and my brother were the first to come down. That was the first time I saw her in about 20 years. She looked at me for maybe two seconds and immediately looked down at the ground as she walked up to her seat. My father and my youngest brother (I have two brothers) were next. My father didn’t make eye contact with me at all as he made his way to his seat. I stood up there smiling, because it was a happy wedding day, and secondly because I was honestly happy to see my parents again. The little girl in me wanted to run to them.

After the ceremony and during the breaks, my parents stayed with my relatives. During my best man (or ma’am) speech, they sat with their backs toward me and we didn’t make eye contact either. They along with my relatives left early.

Growing up, I feared my parents and relatives. And maybe as a child and in the courtroom, everything and everyone looked so tall and big. When I was standing up there officiating, a huge reality hit me. They didn’t look as tall or monumental as I remembered. Both physically and figuratively. I don’t know if it was that I literally grew taller over the years or that I was standing on shoulders of so many women who endured the same pain. Whatever it was, for the first time in my life, I didn’t feel invisible. I wasn’t hiding anymore, and moreover, I felt I had purpose.

My Journey

A friend of mine asked me one time… if I had a life re-do, would I change anything. And my honest answer was and still to this day, no. I would never wish it on anyone but I would never take it out of my journey, because it made me who I am today. Every time I read a sexual abuse story, I get so angry. And I’m learning to channel my angry into ambition. I met with a Police Commissioner to learn about crime and safety earlier this month, I’m meeting with community leaders in LA to discuss survivor support in December and will be in DC to speak with Congress members about policy in January.

I thought I needed my parents to tell me that they love me for my healing to start, but in reality, my healing journey started when other people shared their stories. I never ever imagined in my wildest dream that those posts started a wave of stories and sharing. I’ve received countless messages that start with, I have never told anyone this before. Even though we are strangers connected by pixels on a screen, please know that I stand with you, please know that your story matters.

Thank you for being on this journey with me. Words can not describe how thankful I am for your love and support.

The post My Survivor Story appeared first on Wendy's Lookbook.

from Wendy's Lookbookhttps://www.wendyslookbook.com/2018/11/my-survivor-story/

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