#BANSCHIVS

[bittwitchy]

CS: Samara Weaving and Robert Pattinson.

[consultingsister-a5]

continued from here -- @banschivs

"Being able to trace your family back to the Middle Ages isn't that uncommon in England. It's not as brand-spanking-new as America." However, most families don't have well-kept biographies of them. Cee seriously considered the questions, flicking back in her memory for names of note that weren't horrendous people. Maybe that was the issue; it wasn't that her family didn't produce anyone nice; it was just that they weren't interesting enough to write about. Who wants to read about a mother who loves her children in a nice, normal manner? But you would like to read about the woman who killed off all of her daughters because she didn't want anyone outshining her. Ah, great-great-great aunt Opal, one of the only women of power and wealth to be burned as a witch. But really, if you turn up to church covered in blood you are asking for trouble. Even Cee has the good sense to behave in the house of God.

"We're supposed to be cursed. It is at least based on facts. The daughter of a landowner becomes the mistress of the King. When she falls pregnant, she sells her soul to the devil so that her child will be male; handsome, clever, and so on. The Holmes are descended from an illegitimate son of a King. And more often than not, more often than is biologically likely, the firstborn children of the firstborn children are male. The name has never died out in eight hundred years. That's pretty impressive. And we're all pretty and clever and mad and evil." She shrugs, and it's hard to tell by her look if she puts much stock into the story. She didn't used to.

"How much do you know about your family tree?"

[videoartiste]

“ they want someone to love but they want someone to hate. and they want it easy. “

“mm,” she murmurs in agreement; sara can (and will) raise a drink to that, before tipping her bottle back to her lips. it’s not exactly professional of her, but her night has been long and hard, and goddamn it she just wants to chip away some of her woes. one beer will hardly compromise her integrity.

“i had a very different perception of what it’d be like to be in the public eye.” sara admits, her gaze wavering halfway between nix and the table.

“i didn’t think the talk would get to me, but some of it … it’s like i’m not even a person.” but it’s what you wanted, a voice reminds her. sara cannot bring herself to argue with it, much as she’d like to.

“it fucking sucks, sometimes.”

[consultingsister]

i'm not good or bad. i'm just practical as hell.

a meme, probably -- @banschivs

"Nix, no one on the fucking planet has ever described you as practical. Look at your shoes right now." To be fair, if Nix was a stripper by night and also an assassin (also by night), the pink sparkly heels with spikes coming out of every side would be pretty practical. But alas, for a school run, they just don't scream practical.

"Anyway, there is no good or bad; there is only what is fashionably moral and immoral at the time. You are however, very fashionably, immoral. But I like that."

[chloromanci]

Did anyone tell you what happened?

Over a year later and the city’s still half underwater. The effects still flood the streets and keep people out of damaged property and all the while Gotham moves on. Gotham moves on and Gotham wallows. Something to be said about a city that holds a grudge as readily as it picks itself back up. Some people can’t even multitask so well. Maybe even most people. Daniel can’t relate to that though. He’s got his fingers in too many pies not to hoist his baggage everywhere he goes. Seems birds of a feather flock together.

“Nah.” Newspaper so wet it could make a paste sticks itself to the bottom of one of his shoes. Daniel half leans against the closest building to pick some of it out of the rubber grooves in the sole and flick it back whence it came. The sidewalk is splattered like a Jackson Pollock painting. “Heard about it in the news. Like anybody else. What’s it say about a guy that he hears about a city being blown up and thinks to himself, ‘Y’know what? Seems like a sensible place to raise my kid in’?”

Daniel’s smile is wide and crooked when he straightens upright again. Easy, easy. Even scraping shit off the bottom of his shoe doesn’t put him off. “You get fucked over from it much? Or were you safe uptown?”

🌱 STILL BORN. (for @banschivs)

[carbondated]

With a name like iceberg, she half expected the drinks to be watered down. It was usually how things operated, wasn't it? Bar owners were like magicians, a little slight of hand, distracting lights here, loud music there and before you knew it everything in your wallet was gone .... she was pleasantly surprised to find that this was not the case here.

One hand firmly grasping her third whiskey of the night, River reclined in her seat, frowning slightly. Yes, Gotham city certainly was unique. ❝ No. Sorry, I can't wrap my head around it, he dresses as a bat, to fight crime? ❞ A glance at her glass, brow arched. @banschivs ❤'d // accepting

[queenwolf]

❝ Men just say whatever they want and everyone believes them. ❞

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ—ㅤA STUDY IN DROWNING. (accepting!)

The  new  and  improved  Iceberg  Lounge  may  or  may  not  boast  a  true  chill,    but  the  cold  clings  to  Allison’s  bones  regardless.    Swatched  in  a  night  sky  silky  sheath  from  décolletage  to  ankle,    the  fabric  frothy  where  it  falls  in  sleeves  down  her  slender  arms,    Allison  sits  every  inch  the  heiress  to  a  grand  fortune.    She  nurses  a  drink  that’s  so  pink,    it  no  doubt  would  set  off  EMF  sensors,    and  feigns  disinterest  in  the  crowd.    Really,    she’s  had  passive  eyes  on  the  bar  all  evening.

Amusement  excavates  one  dimple.    When  she  swings  her  gaze  around  to  @banschivs,    it’s  a  deep  pock  of  knowing  as  obvious  as  the  glint  in  her  dark  eyes.    Starlight  there  turns  purple  from  the  LEDs  around  them.    ❝    Preaching  to  the  choir.    ❞  It’s  funny  that  the  Argents  boasted  of  a  matriarchal  hierarchy  after  keeping  Allison  so  long  in  the  dark.    That  was  two  men  behind  that  decision;    she  doesn’t  like  to  think  about  her  mother’s  role–  in  her  life,    period.

❝    You  know,    the  worst  part  is  that  they  all  feed  into  each  other.    ❞  Allison  tosses  pin  -  straight  hair,    made  so  by  way  of  direct  heat,    over  a  shoulder  raised  in  gooseflesh.    ❝    I  try  not  to  find  myself  in  situations  where  more  than  one  man  can  talk  at  a  time when I'm around. If at all.    Hearing  them  speak  to  each  other  is  just  as  bad  as  hearing  them  speak  to  me.    ❞

[bittwitchy]

in a thousand languages a word for this desire

for loving you for loving you loving you (insp.)

[batgeance]

Happy Birthday, Rio!! 🎂I hope you have a wonderful day doing things you love with people you love!! ✨ mwah ! xoxo

ABIGAIL!!!!!!! thank you so very much, i adore you!! i got my face stabbed TWICE today as a gift to myself <3 thank you for your kind wishes, i feel the warmth from across the pond <3

[consultingsister-a5]

STARTER CALL -- @banschivs

"Can I ask you a serious question?"

A good rule of thumb with Cecelia is that 'can I ask you a serious question' is rarely followed up with a serious question. Her lips, working hard not to smile, are giving her away. If it were serious, and who has time for that these days, she would just come out and ask it. Instead, she'll lull you into a false sense of urgency.

"Is your dad single?"

[felinives]

that could have been worse.

The city is hungry and feral and waiting for any sign of weakness. It’s not much different from Selina and maybe that’s why she’s dragged herself back in spite of her recent taste for freedom. Gotham is an opposing force in that it is everything brutal about humanity and so inspires avoidance but there’s something delicious about that violence that sucks you right in. Well. Maybe that’s just her.

Because the truth is it’s not just that you want to leave, it’s that you can’t. Not really. Not once you’re in this deep.

Selina’s already pocketed a very lovely bracelet from a woman who won’t notice it’s missing for hours. It sits warmly in a zippered pouch in the waistband of her pants and will definitely not be forgotten. Not when you’re hungry. Not when you’re brutal. People who aren’t either of those things wouldn’t notice the loss because they can afford it. They’re too full of everything else that’s awful.

“I’m pretty sure you shouldn’t say stuff like that.” Selina is hyperaware of her surroundings now. Even with a teasing tone it’s hard not to feel superstitious here. The shadows are sentient in Gotham and the ears that can hear you are not the ears you want attuned to your location. “Shit’s gonna hit the fan any minute now and I’ll throw you to the sharks. It’s only fair. Since you said it.”

☾ CAN WE TALK ABOUT WHAT HAPPENED?

[taitropa]

do you think there's more out there?

Inej is crouched in such a position that one knee drives into the cracked sternum of the bogey pinned beneath her. He’s three times her size but she felled him with the swift delivery of the heel of her hand to his nose, splicing the cartilage straight through his brow. She would have left him thusly incapacitated, satisfied with the blood all over his face and one less opponent, but the moment he’d wrapped his hands around her waist and dragged her down with him she’d simply dispelled any option that didn’t include his timely end.

She can still feel his grip on her with his meaty fingers and his slick palms even through her multiple layers. Like he was warm enough to the touch to melt straight through her clothes and find her skin and bones. Inej is half dazed when she pulls Sankta Lizabeta from the soft tissue between his ribs where his heart no longer beats. There is a pallor to her skin that’s unnaturally ashen and gives the appearance of someone who’d stuck their head in a fire pit.

Sankta Lizabeta is etched with roses and now painted fittingly with blood. It trembles where Inej grips the hilt in her right hand as she finally stands and glints in the alley around them only because the murky streetlight at the end of the cavern flickers and isn’t wrapped in shadows like the rest of her. She can’t make out Nix’s face in the dark back here but she knows it well enough to picture those shiny canines matching her knife when she speaks. It’s enough to pull her from the fog so that she can tilt her head and listen. Gotham is noisy even when it isn’t.

“Do you want to stay and find out?” Inej avoids looking at the man dead at her feet. She avoids looking at whoever Nix took out too. “Are you hurt? There’s a–” Kaz is going to have her head on a pike. “–safehouse not far from here. Can you climb?”

🔪 MORE QUESTION PROMPTS.

[yaburnae]

you're blunt as a butter knife. (but nix is happy about it - for pearl pls!)

Pearl  stalks  the  perimeter  of  her  shop  with  more  prowess  than  the  old,    rattled  cage  of  her  body  should  afford  her.    Clutched  in  her  yellowed  left  hand  is  a  handmade  besom,    adorned  with  crow  feathers  and  what  looks  suspiciously  like  a  string  of  tiny  little  molars  threaded  through  a  hole  at  the  grip  clutched  in  her  fingers.    Her  one  eye  is  tracing  the  path  that  she  walks  backwards  slowly.    If  she  cares  that  her  customer  has  been  waiting,    she  doesn’t  appear  it  in  the  slightest.

All  at  once,    she  shouts  non - verbally  and  brings  her  broom  down  on  the  ground  with  a  sharp  cut  through  the  air.    The  strength  she  uses  is  incredible.    Pearl  thwacks  the  broom  on  the  ground  once  more,    and  then  proceeds  to  chortle.    Whatever  she  says  to  the  flat  of  the  twigs  at  her  feet,    it’s  a  language  only  she  understands  now,    with flutterings  of  Ukrainian  interlaced  with  her  ramblings.

When  she  emerges  from  the  aisle  she’d  been  hunting  along,    her  broom’s  hoisted  over  her  shoulder  and  a  fat  dead rat  is  clutched  by  the  tail  between  her  knobby  fingers.    It’s  young,    hardly  yet  super  -  sized  like  the  population  of  its  kind  in  this  wretched  city,    but  Pearl  holds  it  proudly  and  waves  it  in  Nix’s  direction  as  she  rounds  her  and  the  back  counter with hobbled gait.    Cheered by  her  victory,    she  tosses  it  between  them  with pomp  and  simply says,    ❝    Dinner.    ❞  Her  eyes  glitter.    ❝    Ah.    And  you,    sharp  as  butcher.    ❞  The  shopkeep  wags  a  now  -  freed  finger  at  Nix,    squinting  her  eye  and  analyzing  what  she  can  make  of  that  stiff  posture.    Then,    she  abruptly  turns  to  the  bead  -  draped  door  behind her to  the  back  room  and  does  not  wait.    ❝    Come  here,    заюшка.    I  have  something  for  you.    ❞

— @banschivs / A SLIVER OF DARKNESS.

[thefixeraa]

there’s  a  chill  in  the  night  air  as  weather  plummets  to  an  astounding  fifty - two  degrees  ...     in  the  middle  of  the  winter  months     (  where  it’s  supposed  to  be  nearing  the  high  twenties  to  the  low  thirties .  )  ��  it  is  meant  to  be  cold ,     a  bitterness  to  the  air  that  is  unrelenting  and  unforgiving .     the  world  warms  as  the  days  go  on ,     and  though  she’s  heard  a  few  people  say  they’re  happy  for  the  warmer  weather .     it’s  a  damn  shame  everything  else ,     AND  EVERYONE  ...     is  going  to  burn  for  it .     mia  shoves  her  hands  into  the  pockets  of  her  leather  jacket .     blood  had  pooled  slightly  out  in  front  of  her ,     it’s  the  smell  of  metal  that  makes  her  nose  scrunch  up .     “  REALLY  ?  ”     she  responds  as  body  goes  to  lean  against  a  brick  wall .    

“  life  really  caught  up  with  this  one  ...     how  many  bullets  did  you  think  he  needed  to  ingest ,     for  you  to  know  that  he  was  dead  ?  ”     hazel  eyes  make  a  slow  path  downward ,     following  the  red  stained  clothes  and  ended  in  the  crotch  area .     [  now  that  seems  personal  ]     she  thinks  to  herself ,     noting  the  wet  stained  jeans .     lips  pucker  for a  moment  before  her  attention  returns  to  nix .     “  ya’  know  what  ?     no  need  to  answer  that .  ”     it’s  already  pretty  damn  clear  to  her  anyway .

    gone  girl ,   prompt :   “  that’s  life ,   baby .  ”                                                     sent  by ,   @banschivs​               ...

[arkhampsych]

@banschivs, 𝐏𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝟑. 𝐓.𝐒. 𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐓, 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖 𝐌𝐄𝐍.

𝘵𝘸𝘰 - 𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘵 - 𝘧𝘪𝘷𝘦 ounces of 𝘵𝘦𝘯 - 𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘮 lemborexant tablets, 𝘵𝘸𝘰 - 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘥 - 𝘢𝘯𝘥 - 𝘧𝘪𝘧𝘵𝘺 - 𝘴𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘥𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘴. Crane silently cursed Arkham for staging up dispensary security. He rolled the top of a brown paper bag down, concealing a receipt stapled to its side as he exited The Pharmacy’s back entrance. It was much easier to lift medication under The Asylum’s idle vigilance than exhaust his professionalism exploiting a common pharmacy — in no world would he consider paying for quality sleep appropriate.

He strode past a stark red car. In his periphery it’s violent hue appeared almost surreal — perhaps because of it’s bold colour or displacement in broad 𝘥𝘢𝘺𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵. Crane checked his watch. He’d taken much longer than he would’ve liked. He meant to arrive at Arkham before the skyline was washed in dawn’s deep blue haze. Now, his watch’s silver hands — along with the sun’s lively tangerine rays — indicated that it was almost seven.

The Doctor picked up his pace, making a more fervent effort to arrive at his office before the monotonies of his clinical practice demanded his attention. As he approached his car, parked at the end of the side street, he caught a glimpse of a face. One that frequented The Media and many underground outlets …

𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘦 … 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘰𝘸.

He recognized at once the object of Joker’s fascination. Though she was certainly no shadow of his, It was made evident by their relationship‘s cult - following, and The Comedian’s habit of mentioning her in passing, just how heavily Nix lingered at the forefront and the in - between of his shifting conscious.

Crane placed the brown bag under his arm, keys hung idly from his finger as he observed her. He’d gotten to know her deeds by word of mouth, It wasn’t until now that he’d chanced upon the opportunity to acquaint himself with her, in person. “ I trust the delivery of your newest offspring went off without a hitch … ” he called out, opening his door and tossing the bag of pills towards his center console.

[bittwitchy]

CS(iblings): Joaquin Phoenix and Robert Pattinson.