#Brienna

[kaz-uie]

Decided to make a new character, meet Brienna! She came to Skyrim after marrying a Nord merchant, but found herself widowed right as the civil war started brewing

Having no deep roots in Skyrim, and growing up in a cosmopolitan city to the southwest, she decided despite her age to “do her part” and join the Legion because empire good…right?

(I’ve never done the civil war quest nor played the sword-and-board heavy armor type very much so a lot of the RP is functional but I think Brienna has cool stories to come, we’ll see :3)

[vexic929]

Only With the Falling of the Dusk

Chapter 1

Warnings: graphic description of a corpse

info on Ricki and Brie here and here

"Units needed above the Chelsea tunnel near Coventry and North Madison; Caucasian woman, mid-30s, unresponsive." The familiar voice of the dispatcher rattled over the radio just as Ricki cracked open the ginseng water she'd purchased at the convenience store. Lin, her partner for the evening, groaned.

"God, I'd like five seconds to take at least one bite of my sandwich." Lin grumbled, shifting in her seat and putting her seatbelt back on as she started the ambulance up.

"That's Gotham's side of the tunnel." Ricki commented, brow furrowing as she took a sip before placing the bottle in the cup holder.

Lin shrugged, putting the vehicle in gear. "Closed off too, we'll have to go around. I'd bet anything they're swamped over there if they're calling us. My money's on Freeze or Scarecrow."

Ricki hummed noncommittally. The ambulance weaved through the evening traffic, sirens blaring as Lin navigated the familiar streets. Ricki stared out the window, her mind already racing through possible scenarios. Trouble in Gotham often came with complications and a tunnel closed for months for construction and legal red tape meant possible gang activity. She didn't bother responding to Lin's guess; it didn't matter who was responsible, the scene was going to be a mess either way.

They were the first on the scene, Ricki assumed because Lin was right and the GCPD had their hands full, but they didn't need the police presence to lay out the crime scene.

"Holy shit..." Lin gasped, leaning over the steering wheel and craning her neck to see the grisly scene clearly.

Hundreds of feet above them hung the body, suspended like a grotesque marionette from the side of the scaffolding. The victim's arms were stretched wide, pinned in place by long, thick knives embedded deep into the steel beams. Ricki climbed out of the cab on autopilot as she processed her initial look at the scene.

"How the hell are we gonna get her down?" Lin asked, voice shaky, as she came around to join Ricki at the back of the ambulance.

Ricki didn't answer Lin immediately. The knives, each one gleaming in the dim light, were driven into the victim's hands with a precision that sent a shiver down her spine. Whoever did this knew what they were doing and hadn't encountered much resistance.

"Don't worry about that yet," Ricki said finally, her voice cool and measured. She grabbed her medical bag and started toward the scaffolding, her steps purposeful and steady.

Lin hesitated, glancing up at the body, "'unresponsive'. Yeah, no shit." Lin muttered as she grabbed her own medical bag and followed.

When they reached the base of the scaffolding, Ricki knelt down, examining the ground around it. Deep claw marks marred the concrete, as if some wild animal had torn through the area in a frenzy. Ricki frowned, tracing one of the marks with her gloved fingers. The width and depth suggested something large - too small to be Killer Croc but definitely too big to be a dog - maybe an animal from Gotham Zoo?

"What the fuck?" Lin whispered. "What the fuck left those?"

Ricki pushed herself up to her feet again, turning her attention back to the body. "Dunno, bobcat maybe?"

"What if it's still here? It could be in the tunnel!" Lin hissed and Ricki fought not to roll her eyes.

Ricki's eyes narrowed as she took in the scene. The claw marks didn't fit with the precision of the knives. It was as if two different entities had come together to create this macabre display. She scanned the surrounding area, taking note of the darkened corners and shadows that could easily hide a lurking predator. She needed a closer look, ideally before GCPD arrived.

"I'm going up."

"Ricki-" Lin started to protest but Ricki had already hauled herself up several feet of scaffolding and concrete with her bare hands. "Be careful!"

Ricki took a moment to perch herself less precariously on the beams once she'd reached the victim, inhaling the familiar cold, damp air of the Gotham night. She examined the wounds with a practiced gaze, taking note of the discoloration around the entry points. It wasn't just blood; the flesh had an unnatural grayish hue, as though it had begun necrotizing before death. There were more claw marks through the concrete and steel beams in a way that suggested the creature had had no trouble scaling the sheer wall - though, it didn't look like the creature had actually injured the victim at all, at least not from what was currently visible.

Ricki leaned in closer, examining the smallest knife, lodged in the victim's décolletage through the collar of her coat. Its blade was short and wide but honed to a razor's edge that gleamed under the flickering work lights above. The handle, dark and smooth, was curved to fit comfortably in the palm of the hand, angled for stabbing; near the base, a ring was carved into the steel, allowing for a solid grip.

Etched into the blade was an owl's face, stylized and eerie, its hollow eyes seeming to follow Ricki as the dim light caught them. These knives were clearly custom, meticulous and detailed. Part of a wealthy connoisseur's collection or maybe someone's expensive hobby. Regardless, the culprit was probably part of Gotham's Elite...not that that narrowed it down considerably.

The toxin didn’t kill outright, meaning it was either meant to prolong suffering or weaken the victim to the point where resistance was futile - Ricki assumed the latter if not both judging by the location of her body. Whoever did this wanted their victim alive long enough to experience the agony of being pinned like a macabre butterfly. It seemed like a punishment or warning, a message of some kind...but to whom? And why?

The hem of the victim's designer dress and coat flapped into the corner of Ricki's vision with the wind, pulling her out of her thoughts and into action. She pressed two fingers to the side of the woman's neck to confirm what was already obvious.

"No pulse." Ricki called down to Lin. "Looks like she's been dead for a while."

"I'll call it in, can we go?" Lin asked and Ricki shifted slightly.

"Not yet."

Lin, who had been pacing nervously at the base of the scaffolding, finally snapped. "Ricki, come on! This is way above our pay grade, this isn't even our city, let the GCPD handle it!"

Ricki ignored Lin, adjusting her footing to get a closer look at the other blades. They were embedded deep but she could tell the shape resembled that of a kukri; the blade sleek with a sharp curve.

The wind picked up, biting through her uniform and carrying the stench of death to her nose along with an additional peculiar, sweet smell. Some sort of candy? No, anise. The poison probably but she couldn't place it.

"Damn it, Ricki, this isn't our job! We're supposed to stabilize and transport, not play detective! If there's no one to stabilize, we're done here! Get down, please!" Lin's voice was a mix of fear and frustration, but Ricki didn't waver, clicking on her pen light and pulling out a scalpel and sample bag.

She carefully scraped a small amount of residue from the blade into the sample bag, then sealed it and tucked it securely into her medical bag. She took one last look at the scene, her eyes sweeping over the woman's lifeless form, the intricate knives, and the claw marks below.

Ricki descended the scaffolding swiftly, her movements fluid and controlled. She landed lightly beside Lin, who was visibly relieved to see her back on solid ground.

"You should've gone into law enforcement if you wanna be that up close and personal. Come on, I already radio'd it in."

Ricki didn't respond to Lin's comment, but the hint of annoyance in her eyes was clear as she made her way back to the ambulance. Lin followed closely behind, muttering under her breath, as the first GCPD cruiser pulled up.

"Holy shit." Detective Montoya muttered as he stepped out, echoing Lin's earlier sentiment. Ricki ignored him as well, climbing into the passenger side of the ambulance and closing the door with an audible thud.

Inside the ambulance, Ricki pulled out her notebook and began to jot down observations. Her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, piecing together the evidence she had gathered. She knew one of Gotham's own vigilantes would probably be looking into it themselves, but her curiosity wouldn't let her rest until she had some answers.

Lin slammed her door shut, shaking her head. "Grayson, I swear, you're gonna get yourself killed one of these days with all this extracurricular BS."

"She pissed the wrong people off." Ricki commented, glancing back up at the body as Lin was directed by another officer to take a detour back to Blüdhaven, away from the road they were in the process of closing off. "Whoever they are, they used her as a warning. She won't be the last victim like this."

"I know you're from Gotham but do you have to be so damn cryptic? It's creepy."

Ricki remained focused on her notes. She was used to Lin's complaints and she knew her own single-minded approach often put her at odds with her colleagues. She didn't care much about being liked though, she cared about getting the job done.

The drive back to Blüdhaven was quiet, the air heavy with the weight of what they'd seen. Ricki's mind continued to churn, replaying the details of the scene over and over. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the Bat-signal appear over Gotham in the side-view mirror.

"They should've just called Batwoman from the start, would've saved us a trip. Think we can get GCPD to compensate the gas mileage?"

Lin's attempt at lightening the mood with a joke fell flat. Ricki didn't even glance at her, too engrossed in the scene playing out in her mind. Lin sighed, shaking her head slightly, and focused on the road ahead, leaving Ricki to her thoughts.

The rest of the drive was silent, the tension between them like a physical barrier, and Ricki wasted no time lingering at the hospital longer than it took to fill out the paperwork for the evening. She entered her apartment in Blüdhaven at half past one, the quiet darkness welcoming her like an old friend. Haly, her three-legged pitbull puppy, greeted her with a happy wag of his tail and a nuzzle against her leg.

Ricki dropped her bag by the door, crouching down to scratch behind Haly's ears. "Hey, buddy," she murmured, a warm smile spreading across her face as the puppy's tail thumped against the floor. "Sorry I'm late. We'll get you fed and then go for a walk, okay?"

Haly's paws, still too big for his body, made a soft, clumsy sound as he trotted to his food bowl. Ricki moved to the kitchen, grabbing the dog food and pouring it in. Haly didn't waste any time, Ricki watched him fondly for a moment before straightening up.

She moved around the small apartment with ease, the television playing an old sitcom - left on to keep Haly company. The low murmur of voices filled the space, a soft hum in the background as she pulled off her uniform and tugged her dark hair free of the ponytail she'd worn all shift, crossing the room to her bedroom and ensuite bath.

Ricki splashed cold water on her face, the coolness a welcome wake-up. Her reflection in the mirror was careworn, her thoughts still on the scene she’d just left. The ornate knives, the poison, the claw marks - it all pointed to something far more sinister than a random act of violence. She needed to talk to Batwoman, but that was easier said than done. Their last conversation had ended with Ricki storming off, and they hadn’t spoken since. A low growl of frustration escaped her lips as she dried her face with a towel.

"Damn it, Brie…" she muttered under her breath, knowing full well that their estrangement was only making things more complicated. Haly barked from the sitting room, pulling Ricki out of her thoughts. She sighed and tossed the towel onto the counter, moving quickly to the spartan living area. Haly's bark was insistent, an impatient reminder that he was ready for their walk.

"Alright, alright, I'm coming," she called out, grabbing his leash from the hook by the door. She clipped it onto Haly's collar and gave him a gentle ruffle on the head. "Let's get some fresh air, huh?"

[taffingspy]

tfw you meet a morytanian cutie and you want to impress him but it backfires

[hyenagurl]

im gonna have to draw some asoiaf girlies at some point arent i

[andreai04]

Is it only blood that makes a House? Or is it beliefs? What holds people together more? The red in their veins or the fire in their hearts?

[rebe-p-arts]

The youngest in the party also happens to be the biggest little shit

[lokigodofsex]

Just had a crazy fun DnD session!

Our party is the best!

[callmepad]

Ernst & Greet are enjoying their new pregnancy. They are both hoping that this time it will be a girl. Ernest is still dealing with the loss of Brienna.

Griet feels that it won't be long before the baby is born.

[linalinsims]

Olivia Brown

She/her | 21 y.o.

Perfectionist • Snob • Ambitious

Olivia was born and raised in San Myshuno and lived there with her parents until she lost them in a terrible car accident a few years ago. After the accident, she moved to Brindleton Bay to live with her aunt Brienna and cousin Georgia, who is a year older than her.

She always loved to study and excelled in all classes, so it was no surprise that she was chosen as valedictorian at high school graduation. Her aunt Bri and Gigi were so proud of her, and she knew in her heart that her parents were proud too.

Liv is an aspiring academic, and at the moment, she is a 3rd year student majoring in psychology at Foxbury University.

She rents a house near university with her cousin, Gigi, who also studies at Foxbury but in a different major, and with a fellow classmate, Kira Hashimoto. Throughout the years, their trio became inseparable, and having these girls by her side means a lot lo Liv.

Spotted: Kira, Liv, and Gigi at Foxbury University's 150th Anniversary Gala.

thank you for the challenge to @fruitysimsy @hellohopesims and Brooklyn 🖤

next

[vexic929]

Only With the Falling of the Dusk

Chapter 3

Chapter 1: link

Previous: link

Warnings: spooky scary skeletons, canon typical violence

Ricki's next conscious thought was a haze of disjointed sensations: the muffled sound of voices speaking around her, a cold surface pressing against her back, and a dull ache spreading through her limbs. Shadowy figures wearing porcelain white masks surrounded her, their cold, expressionless faces standing out eerily in the dim light and contrasting oddly with the medical scrubs they wore. She tried to move, to defend herself, but her muscles felt like they were encased in lead. She aimed a punch at the nearest person but her arm was caught easily and instead, she felt a needle slide into the crook of her arm and then...

She blinked and the people were gone, the voices quiet. The hard, uneven ground beneath her and the faint echo of dripping water told her she was no longer above ground. Everything still felt distant and hazy, her thoughts jumbled. The air was damp and cold, carrying the faint scent of decay and earth. She pushed herself upright, her limbs trembling with the effort, and immediately doubled over as a wave of nausea hit her. She forced herself to breathe slowly, leaning her head on her knees until the sensation passed.

"Oracle, can you hear me?" She asked, activating her comms. Nothing but silence greeted her. She cursed under her breath, realizing she was truly alone. "Enable logging mode to send as soon as possible."

She paused, the faint sound of something scraping over the rocks catching her attention. It was probably just a rat but...she needed to get moving just in case. Ricki pushed herself unsteadily to her feet, swaying slightly, and stumbled forward, using the cave wall as a guide.

"It was a setup. I was drugged with chloroform, maybe something else." Ricki continued, tripping as her feet crossed in front of each other. "Shit. It's wearing off but I have no idea how long it's been." Pretty long, she imagined, considering they'd managed to get her down here.

The caverns could have stretched for miles or mere feet, Ricki wasn't sure, all she knew was that each new hallway seemed only to lead to another dead end. She rounded another corner and froze, squinting in the dark at what appeared to be fabric walls rather than stone. A circus tent?

Ricki's heart pounded in her chest as she blinked hard, trying to clear her vision. The fabric walls of the tent rippled lightly, as if caught by a breeze that didn't exist. Her breathing quickened, the tightness in her chest growing. The tent was an impossibility; she knew it wasn't real, couldn't be real, but her senses were telling her otherwise. Her legs moved on their own, carrying her towards the center ring, knowing already what she would find.

"I don't want to relive this..." Ricki whispered, her eyes glued to the broken trapeze swaying above her.

Ricki's heart hammered against her ribs, her breath coming in shallow, rapid bursts as she stood frozen beneath the ghostly trapeze. The phantom tent loomed around her, its colorful fabric faded and tattered, like an old photograph. Every fiber of her being screamed at her to turn away, to run, but her legs refused to obey. They had somehow dragged her here, back to the place where everything had gone wrong.

The trapeze swayed gently, taunting her with the memory. She could see them now - her mother, graceful and strong; her father, full of confidence. They moved in perfect synchrony, like they always had, their performance flawless - until the moment it wasn't.

The snap of the rope, the gasps of the crowd, and then the sickening thud that had haunted her nightmares ever since. It had been so final, so quick, so instantaneous; it never felt right that it had happened so fast and yet every time Ricki saw it again it was in slow motion.

She clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms through her gloves as she forced herself to look away. This wasn't real. It was a hallucination, a side effect of whatever they had drugged her with. She took a deep, shuddering breath and tried to focus on what she knew was real - the scent of earth, the dripping of water, the feel of stone beneath her feet.

Ricki pressed forward, rounding another corner, sending something small and hard skittering with her foot as she nearly tripped again. On closer inspection, the object appeared to be an old digital camera, similar to something she'd carried around in middle school. The screen was cracked, the lens shattered, and the paint scuffed but, miraculously, it still turned on.

The small screen flickered to life, casting a faint, ghostly glow that barely illuminated the surrounding darkness. The battery icon flashed red, warning her it didn't have much time left. She held her breath as she navigated to the last recorded video.

The footage was shaky, the timestamp at the bottom corner indicating it was nearly twenty years old. The image showed a man, maybe in his early thirties, his face pale and eyes wide with terror. His voice was a hushed, frantic whisper, barely audible over the distorted background noise.

"They're not human," the man hissed, glancing over his shoulder as if expecting something to leap out of the shadows. "They're not- these things! I warned them, I told them- they're a crime against nature! Against God and man! They don't stop, they don't sleep, they're always hunting-" He froze, face paling somehow even further at a scraping sound a high-pitched hiss. "No- no! Please!"

The view fell from the man's grasp, clattering to the ground as the horrible hissing sound rattled through the speakers along with the man's final agonized screams that cut short much too quickly. The video had hours left but the battery warning flashed once more before Ricki was left in silent darkness again.

Ricki's fingers tightened around the camera, the last remnants of the video replaying in her mind, the man's terrified expression seared into her thoughts. A shiver ran down her spine as the hissing from the video seemed to echo around her.

She needed to move but her body was still sluggish, the lingering effects of the drugs making her feel as though she were wading through thick mud. Every step she took was heavy and deliberate, as she fought to stay alert. She pocketed the camera and trudged on, determined to find an escape.

The sound of hissing grew louder, more distinct. The hair on the back of Ricki's neck stood on end but she forced herself to continue at a steady pace, certain that running would only alert the creature (creatures?) to her presence. She took a deep breath, feeling some of the fog clear finally from her mind.

The scraping of claws and another hiss from directly in front of her had Ricki freezing in place, eyes scanning the path and wall. The creature emerged slowly, its glowing eyes piercing through the darkness; she could just make out the shape - humanoid but in a way that felt...wrong, its limbs long and thin, bent at slightly unnatural angles. Ricki's eyes widened as the thing crawled out of an old sewage pipe high in the wall, its movements inhumanly fluid and quick. The creature was wrapped in filthy, tattered bandages, its skin almost entirely hidden beneath the layers of cloth - what skin was visible was pale and leathery with a grey tinge. It twisted its head at an odd angle, goggles reflecting a sickly yellow-green light as it hissed at her, the sound somewhere between a screech and a growl.

Ricki reached behind her for her escrima sticks, immediately sinking into a defensive pose. The creature crawled down the wall effortlessly like a spider, setting all of Ricki's nerves on edge. She let out a slow breath, her grip on her escrima sticks tightening.

"Alright, ugly, let's dance."

The creature's hissing grew louder as it lunged at her, faster than she'd anticipated. Ricki barely had time to dodge, backflipping out of reach and spinning her left escrima stick, adjusting her grip to activate the electricity.

"Easy now." Ricki crooned to the creature, almost mirroring its animalistic crouch as it stalked around her.

The creature didn't respond to her words, its gaze fixed on her with a single-minded intensity that sent a cold shiver down her spine. It moved with a jerky, disjointed grace, like a puppet controlled by invisible strings, its glowing gaze never leaving her.

Ricki circled with it, keeping her breathing steady, her movements fluid, waiting for the creature to strike again.

The creature lunged once more, a blur of bandages and claws. Ricki flipped sideways, swinging one of her escrima sticks to connect with its side. The impact sent a jolt through the creature, causing it to convulse and emit an ear-piercing screech that echoed through the cavern. But it wasn't enough to stop it.

The creature hissed again, recovering from the electric shock faster than she expected. It scrambled back up the wall, its movements erratic, as if the electricity had only made it more agitated.

Ricki took a deep breath, flinging one of her escrima sticks at the creature. It dodged, as she anticipated, but the stick ricocheted off the wall and struck the creature from behind, knocking it to the ground again and disorienting it just long enough for her to close the distance.

Ricki threw herself at the creature with all the force she could muster, tackling it to the ground. She pinned it down, using her remaining escrima stick to press its neck against the cold stone floor. The creature thrashed beneath her, its talons swiping wildly, but she held firm.

"Stay...down..." Ricki hissed through gritted teeth.

The creature screeched one more time before finally going limp. Ricki remained on top of the creature for a moment longer, her breaths ragged and heavy as she waited for any sign of movement. The cavern was silent save for the echo of her breathing and the distant dripping of water. Slowly she lifted the escrima stick, her hand trembling as the adrenaline that had fueled her began to ebb away. Up close, the creature only seemed more disturbing. Its fingers were unnervingly long, each ending in a sharp, almost metallic point, and they glistened in the faint light.

Ricki wiped the sweat from her brow, her skin sticky and clammy from the fight. This place felt like it was closing in on her, the air thick and heavy. She needed to keep moving. If this one had found her, others would follow soon enough.

Ricki stepped over the lifeless creature, her stomach twisting at the unnatural bend of its limbs, and retrieved her other escrima stick before pressing forward, one hand on the cave wall to guide her. The corridor narrowed into a cramped tunnel, barely tall enough for Ricki to stand upright. She pushed herself forward, half stumbling, until the narrow tunnel opened into a vast cavern. She stopped short, her breath catching in her throat.

The room stretched endlessly before her, the floor littered with a scattered mosaic of what could only be the skeletal remains of hundreds, maybe thousands of bodies. She stepped forward carefully, her boots crunching over bone fragments, the sound unnervingly loud in the otherwise still air. The cavern felt colder here and Ricki shivered, rubbing her arms as she took in the scope of the scene. To her right, a gaping chasm revealed a giant incinerator at the bottom, faint embers still glowing faintly, the faint scent of burnt flesh lingering despite the years that must have passed since it had last been used.

"What the hell happened here?" Ricki muttered, bending to inspect the remnants of clothing. There wasn't much left but she could make out the designer tag of a fashion line that hadn't produced a new item since 1911.

Ricki's eyes narrowed as she scanned the cavern, her mind racing. It wasn't just a mass grave - it was a mass execution site. The incinerator likely held hundreds more victims, nothing but ash now. The thought made her faintly ill.

"Oracle, I hope you're seeing this," Ricki said, scanning the area thoroughly with the camera in her mask as she searched for a way out.

Far across the cavern, Ricki finally spotted what looked like a ladder, though it was rusted and worn, clearly having seen better days. It led up to what might have been a door, partially obscured by shadows and webbing. Her heart skipped a beat. An exit.

"Just a little further," she murmured to herself, using the mantra to keep her legs moving as she trudged forward. The chill in the air made her shiver, and the exhaustion from the fight with the creature gnawed at her muscles, but she refused to stop now.

As she approached the base of the ladder, Ricki hesitated, inspecting the structure. It was bolted into the rock wall, but the rust had eaten away at most of the bolts, leaving it precarious. She clenched her jaw, knowing she didn’t have the luxury of time. Behind her, the soft, echoing scrape of claws against stone reminded her that the creature she had fought wasn't alone.

"One step at a time," she whispered, gripping the cold metal with both hands. It flaked beneath her fingers, and she could feel the rungs groan under her weight as she began to climb. Each movement was careful, deliberate, and she kept her gaze fixed upward, refusing to look down into the darkness below.

Halfway up, the ladder shifted with a metallic screech and Ricki froze, pressing herself against the wall, her heart hammering in her chest. She held her breath, every muscle tense as she waited for the inevitable collapse, but the ladder held - barely.

"Come on, come on," she muttered through gritted teeth and resumed her climb. It felt like an eternity before her hand reached the top, her fingers brushing against the rough, cold stone floor of what she hoped was the exit. With a final heave, she pulled herself up, collapsing onto the marble surface, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she gasped for breath.

The air was different here - stale but not as oppressive as the cave below. As she lay there, catching her breath, she took in her surroundings.

The room was small, circular, and empty save for a large bronze owl statue slightly off to the side, the center of the room little more than a hole that she suspected closed at one time like a trap door. Three small doorways surrounded the room however, it seemed two of them had been blocked off.

Ricki pushed herself to her feet, muscles groaning in protest. "Alright, let's see what's behind door number 3."

Ricki's steps were slow and deliberate as she moved toward the one open doorway, the soft echo of her boots against the marble floor the only sound in the eerie silence. Her senses were on high alert, every nerve humming with the possibility of danger as she stepped over the threshold and into what could only be described as a grand hallway.

Dim light filtered in through cracked windows, illuminating intricate carvings of owls that lined the walls, their eyes following her as she moved. The corridor was lined with faded paintings depicting scenes of figures in the same porcelain masks she'd seen on her captors - some kind of ritual or ceremony, she guessed. It gave the space an almost church-like feel, though the atmosphere was anything but holy.

The following room was massive and though it had fallen into disuse, there were still hints of the wealth that had gone into its construction. More marble floors stretched in front of her, dusty but uncracked, and towering bookshelves lined the walls, reaching up to a domed ceiling that disappeared into darkness. Ricki's eyes roved over the space, taking in the grandiose fireplace on one side and the elegant furniture and grand piano on the other.

She approached the fireplace, her footsteps echoing against the marble. The stone mantel was chipped but there were still clear ornate carvings of owls perched along the edges, their eyes watching her with unsettling intensity. Ricki ran her fingers over the carvings, noting how the grooves were smooth from wear, likely touched by countless others over the years.

Barty's voice crackled into her comms so suddenly she jumped, still on high alert for more of those creatures.

"Ni---w-ng? ---- signal is-"

Ricki froze for a moment, pressing a hand to her comms. "Oracle, you're cutting out. Say again?"

"Are --- safe?" The comms buzzed loudly, cutting out anything else Barty said until, "tracking your ----tion. St-- there."

Ricki sighed in relief, though her heart still raced. She wasn't alone anymore; Barty was monitoring her progress and that reassurance gave her the strength to push forward. Her eyes shifted back to the room as she moved past the fireplace and toward the shelves. It was clear whoever had inhabited this place had an obsession with owls - and it was unsettling how much thought had been put into even the smallest of details. She let her fingers glide over the spines of the dusty books, all bearing the same emblem of the owl’s face stamped into the leather.

"Bit flashy if you ask me," Ricki commented, feeling much lighter somehow now that she had Barty on comms. It was familiar and something she hadn't realized she'd missed.

Barty's voice rattled through the comms again though not a syllable was coherent.

"Say again?" Ricki asked, pressing a hand to her comms again as though that could fix it. Moments later, Barty's voice was finally clear.

"You're in The Powers Club. In Gotham."

Ricki froze at Barty's words. The Powers Club? How the hell had she ended up there?

"That's not possible," she muttered, running her fingers through her hair, catching a few stray curls that had worked their way free from her ponytail during the struggle. "There's no way there's a tunnel that stretches from Gotham to fucking Blüdhaven. We'd know about it, B knows the caves better than her own name."

"Maybe you weren't taken there directly," Barty suggested, his voice clearer now but still tinged with static. "You've been out of commission for hours, Ricki."

"Hours?" Ricki echoed. "How many?"

"Six," Barty's voice crackled through the comms, sending a chill down Ricki's spine. "We lost your signal in Lin's apartment. I've been trying to trace you ever since."

"Six hours..." Ricki muttered under her breath, her mind racing. That was enough time to drag her all over Gotham and Blüdhaven if they were efficient. She cast one more glance around the library, the dim light from the cracked windows barely illuminating the rows of dusty shelves and peeling wallpaper.

"Stay put," Barty instructed, the urgency in his tone clear. "I'm sending backup."

"Oracle, I swear if you-" Ricki started but Barty interrupted her.

"Batwoman's already on her way. Stay there."

"Oh, fuck off."

[rmelster]

—𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒.

CHAPTER THREE: BREAKFAST AMONG LEPERS.

The morning found the Pemberton brothers intertwined in each other's arms.

Lawrance woke up first, barely stretching as he pushed aside the warm coverlets and his brother's heavy body. He did not keep many memories of the previous night, after that strange evening to the love of the fire with the strange student with pale, weary eyes; he remembered the echo of the storm rumbling against his bones and a knot in his stomach, a long, terrible, terrible dream and a moment of feverish lucidity, followed by him fleeing his bed jumping into Washington’s welcoming arms. Slipping between the sheets and anchored to his brother in a tight hug, Lawrance had fleetingly recalled those distant days of his childhood in which both used to do the same with his mother and father. Abandoning it he comfort of his brother's embrace was like being a child cruelly torn from his mother's lap. It did not took him long, however, to take a pillow and throw it against the sleeping Washington's face.

"Up."

He bend over the discarded travel suitcases and took a crinkly packet from them as his brother groaned and lamented being awake in such a cold and damp room. He lazily unwrapped the brown paper that wrapped their uniforms and, once this was done, he could not help but wrinkle his nose in contempt, as his eyes were faced with a suit that would have suited much better two stiff-necked orphans from the Mayflower than the lively brothers of that room.

"How ugly," he heard his brother murmur in a sleepy voice behind him, as he rubbed his eyes, like he tried to chase away the still present heaviness of the slumber that lingered upon them.

"Well, imagine wearing this every day for the next three and a half months," Lawrance agreed, pulling down his coarse wool socks and placing them on the metal bars of the bed, “I just hope the food is not as monastical as the clothes.”

Dressing was an act as mundane as it was intimate. Washington always forgot to fix the collar of his jacket, and Lawrance had always been more skilled at tying sailor knots than silk ties. Once done with the tying and the fixing, both of the brothers stood proud in front of the small mirror that adorned the dressing table.

“Do you think mr. Lucas is making supper for Emmett and Father right now, back home?” Washington asked, almost shyly, as he fastened the tiny button of his sleeve. Lawrance’s plump lips formed a vacuous smile.

“I doubt it. The hour changes depending of the point, fool, and it may be still be night there. He must be at bed with his wife. And Emmett too, snoring like an old horse. And Father…” but he said no more.

Sheathed in a uniform so black and austere in adornment that anyone would have mistaken them for young funeral pomp helpers, the Pemberton brothers seemed even more different than they already were, as if no drop of shared blood runners in their veins. It would have been impossible to guess that they were brothers. The mild and blond Washington, with his benign, plump face and his green and clear eyes, devoid of cunning or evil; and Lawrance, with his dark face, the wry, mocking curve of his smile and his laughing cat eyes, half-hidden turquoise fire between the black pikes of his lashes.

"Here we stand, Lawrance and Washington Pemberton, illustrious and invincible both: About to conquer the world and eat this miserable boarding school whole," he said, triumphantly.

"Or about to see the boarding school to eat us…" he heard Washington murmur, almost to himself.

As I promised, this is dedicated to @marianadecarlos

This chapter has three parts. This is the first one. As always, your Satanic Majesty @lordbettany AND my bestest friend @Brienna

[worm-food09]

hello fren!

i just relized that ive just been calling you platypuss so is there any name that you would prefer?

Heyo :) anything really is good, but if you’re wondering, my irl friends call me Brienna or Bri (although I’ve been thinking about changing my name and/or username lol) thanks for da clarification :):):)

[andreai04]

We are ready because of sisterhood, because our bonds go deeper than blood. We rise for the queens of our past, and for the queens to come.

[jacaela]

They: Rhaenyra is very arrogant, rude, no one loves her, so everyone turns away from her, kingdom won't accept her as a queen, "The Realm's delight is a mockery just like Brienna is the most beautiful woman and blah-blah"...

The author:

At the center of the merriment, cherished and adored by all, was their only surviving child, Princess Rhaenyra, the little girl the court singers dubbed “the Realm’s Delight.” Though only six when her father came to the Iron Throne, Rhaenyra Targaryen was a precocious child, bright and bold and beautiful as only one of dragon’s blood can be beautiful. At seven, she became a dragonrider, taking to the sky on the young dragon she named Syrax, after a goddess of old Valyria. At eight, the princess was placed into service as a cupbearer…but for her own father, the king. At table, at tourney, and at court, King Viserys thereafter was seldom seen without his daughter by his side.

His daughter was his life’s great joy, he often said, but a brother is a brother.

When Prince Daemon sent forth his call to arms, they rose up all along the rivers, knights and men-at-arms and humble peasants who yet remembered the Realm’s Delight, so beloved of her father, and the way she smiled and charmed them as she made her progress through the riverlands in her youth. Hundreds and then thousands buckled on their swordbelts and donned their mail, or grabbed a pitchfork or a hoe and a crude wooden shield, and began to make their way to Harrenhal to fight for Viserys’s little girl.

From the Twins rode Ser Forrest Frey, the very same “Fool Frey” who had once begged for Rhaenyra’s hand, now grown into a most puissant knight. Lord Samwell Blackwood, who had once lost a duel for her favor, raised her banners over Raventree. (Ser Amos Bracken, who had won that duel, followed his lord father when House Bracken declared for Aegon.)

Yet queen's men had remained, even after the queen herself was dead, and "Aegon is reduced to bones and ashes.

[monthgirl]

“all men are fools, and all men are knights, where women are concerned.” - knights of the seven kingdoms G.R.R Martians 

read the hedge knight series everyone. its amazing. Egg is the best Targaryen and that is a hill I will die on. dunk is pure himbo energy and is Tyrion Lannister in reverse: where tyrion is small, dunk is tall, where Tyrion is smart, dunk is dumb, where Tyrion is a lordling and rich, dunk is base born and poor, where Tyrion is morally divisive, dunk is lawful good. also he's Brienna's great grandfather.

[callmepad]

If Brienna had survived childbirth, she would now be 15 years old. 😞💔