#Cowl Replica

[comicchannel]

DC Multiverse DC Direct Batman Classic TV Series (1966) Cowl Replica - McFarlane Toys

Link para compra BR: *Possível importar pelo Link abaixo

Buy here: https://amzn.to/4d0Djo2

[firewireblog-blog]

McFarlane Toys - DC Direct Batman (1989) Cowl Replica

Having witnessed his parents’ brutal murder as a child, millionaire philanthropist Bruce Wayne fights crime in Gotham City disguised as Batman, a costumed hero who strikes fear into the hearts of villains. But when a deformed madman who calls himself The Joker seizes control of Gotham City’s criminal underworld, Batman must face his most ruthless nemesis ever while protecting both his identity…

[batmannotes]

Batman 1:3 Scale Cowl Replicas by McFarlane Toys

McFarlane Toys - DC Direct Batman (1966) Cowl Replica 1:3 Scale

1:3 SCALE COWL REPLICA based on the BATMAN 1966 Television Show

Stands approximately 6.79″ tall

Includes display stand

Collect all McFarlane Toys DC Direct Replica Cowls

Preorder here.

McFarlane Toys - DC Direct Batman (1989) Cowl Replica 1:3 Scale

1:3 SCALE COWL REPLICA based on the BATMAN 1989 movie

Stands approximately 7″ tall

Includes display stand

Collect all McFarlane Toys DC Direct Replica Cowls

Preorder here.

McFarlane Toys - DC Direct Batman (Knightfall) Cowl Replica 1:3 Scale

1:3 SCALE COWL REPLICA based on the BATMAN from the BATMAN: KNIGHTFALL comic series

Stands approximately 7.6″ tall

Includes display stand

Collect all McFarlane Toys DC Direct Replica Cowls

Preorder here.

[felicitysmoaksx]

Hi all! Man, I really need to stop getting ideas when I dog/house-sit for people. However, I will say this was originally an idea I had for my Arrow/Chicago Med/Titans crossover. I just wasn't meant to post or write anything for it until the first fic in this series was posted and honestly, I'm not sure if this is the way Team Arrow (And Team Flash) finds out about Sarah. So here's a quick little two-shot of a what-if scenario.

Rating: Mature

Summary: Mockingbird was a memory. Mockingbird was her past. A ghost that lingered from Gotham and Bruce. A ghost that was ash and soot now. So why was it staring her in the face now?

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: Inaccurate medical procedures, and implied/references a canonical character death and canonical typical violence mentioned but doesn't go in depth

Read On AO3 | Fic Playlist

The Same Little Breaks in Your Soul

Sarah stared mutely at her reflection as it paced the length of her cell in the pipeline of Star Labs in Central City. Only the term reflection wasn’t quite accurate either because Sarah-the one that wasn’t locked up-was alert and awake. Nor did she have the jagged scar that ran down the length of the other Sarah’s face. 

“What do you call her?” She wasn’t even sure who she was talking to; there were too many people in the lab. But her gaze found Clark’s. Then she found Connor’s-her boyfriend, not Superboy. He had slipped off the bloody gloves and washed his hands, but the brunette could still see the other Sarah’s blood on his hands from where he had to sew the stab wound in her stomach. 

 It was Barry Allen, still in his Flash suit, who answered her though.  “Like we explained before the universe is actually a multiverse and there are-”

“Fifty-two Earths. Yeah, I got that.” Sarah held up a hand to stop the lengthy explanation, “But what do you call her? Because she isn’t me.” 

Yet, the woman pacing around her cell was Sarah Athena Grayson. Same as she was. She could tell from the way the other Sarah held herself. The way she shifted her weight from foot to foot. The downward turn of her lips and the way she wrinkled her forehead. But the faraway look in her eyes? That was all Bruce. If she was being honest though, maybe she was just seeing that look because of the bat-suit and cowl she wore. An exact replica of the one Bruce had made and unveiled on hers and Dick’s eighteenth birthday. A suit she’d rather burn than wear. 

Too bad she hadn’t been able to make it to Gotham the night she burned her Mockingbird suit.

“Doppelgängers,” it was Barry again, “They’re us, but just different versions of us.” 

Sarah fell silent. Nodding once more, before her eyes shifted to study the other versions of her little brothers: Jason, Tim, and Damien. This was confirmed by three phone calls she made earlier. Her Jason Todd and Tim Drake were in Gotham while Damien Wayne was still in San Francisco with Dick.

Connor was still staring at her; she could tell from her peripheral vision, with that same guarded expression he had been wearing since he saw her dodge a punch Superman and Superboy came at her with and blew kryptonite dust that she kept on hand because old habits die hard, in their faces, before she backflipped and rounded a kick into the younger kryptonian’s chest while launched a punch at Superman. 

“How did they get here, if they’re from another Earth?” 

“They had to breach here somehow. But another question to ask is why are they here?” Cisco Ramon answered, typing on a keyboard and the footage of the doppelgängers disappeared and was replaced by some kind of security video. 

In the video, it was dark and quiet. Nothing had happened yet. Then a large orb-like portal appeared. A second later, Sarah stiffened at the sight of The Joker. He laughed maniacally before he threw something sharp into the portal. Then he took off in a run as the other version of herself fell through the portal. She was clutching her stomach where a dark red maroon spot was forming.  She fell. Her prone form on the asphalt of the alleyway.

“Turn it off,” Sarah flinched, even though she knew the other woman would be alright. She, Connor, and Dr. Snow would make sure of it. “Please.”

The footage instantly vanished and it was back to the sight of her reflection pacing the length of her cell once more. 

“They were chasing the Joker.” Cal-El slurred his words a little, probably still feeling dizzy from the effects of the kryptonite dust she blew at him and Superboy. She nodded before glancing at the crowd around her, “How closely do these other Earths resemble ours?” 

“It varies from Earth to Earth but there is no true way of knowing unless we talk to them.” Barry answered again, “Why?” 

“Because Joker is dead on our Earth. Batman killed him after an…emotional breakdown.” 

“Are you sure about that?” Oliver asked. He sounded skeptical. Sarah shot him a look, but he didn’t waver in his question or his stare. It was easy to see through his playboy facade now and in its place was something darker. 

The Green Arrow and Connor’s brother was The Magician, Information she was given as they rushed to Central City to help save the other Sarah Grayson. (Though no one knew that at the time. All they knew was the call Cisco made to Tommy requesting for his brother because “Caitlin says she needs help with the surgery. She’s never done one.”) Two people who like her, were wearing a version of themselves as a mask. It made her wonder how she missed it. When she didn’t answer, he added: “It’s been my experience that unless you see a body yourself, there is always a chance that the person is still alive.”

The brunette knew the tone and had heard Bruce use it many times before. It was a hard tone that scared people off. Made people not want to question him with an air of finality. But Sarah had grown up with Bruce Wayne as Batman since she was thirteen. She didn’t get scared as easily as some people. 

Folding her arms, the brunette stood up straighter and walked a few steps forward so she was directly in front of Oliver. 

“Besides the fact that every news outlet in Gotham did a story about it, body included by the way or what was left of it anyways. Batman left my-” she started icily before she caught herself almost revealing Dick’s identity, “-the original Robin with a bloody crowbar. It was filled with the Joker’s blood. Too much blood to be surviveable. So yeah, Oliver. I’m sure.”

“What are you?” 

“Excuse me?” Sarah questioned hotly. Connor stepped forward, inserting himself between the two of them.“Oliver. Enough. Come on, it’s already been a rough day.” 

“No, it’s not enough. Because she knows way too much about Batman, who’s an urban legend by the way for a normal person. She blew kryptonite dust, something she had on hand, on Clark and his kid with Clark’s disguise in place. Not to mention the way she rounded that kick and made that punch perfectly as if she had been trained to do that. Then you have her.” Oliver pointed a finger at the screen to where the other Sarah was still pacing, “Wearing a suit looking like a Batwoman.” 

“Oliver, maybe Connor’s right-” Tommy stepped forward now, keeping a hand between his twin brother and best friend. 

“Batman,” Sarah interrupted before she could think about it because Kate deserved that recognition. “There’s already a Batwoman. Both of whom, are not urban legends. Ask the Man of Steel or The Heir to the Demon if you don’t want to believe me.” 

Now the Merlyn twin brothers both turned to look at her with the same guarded expression Connor wore earlier in both of their eyes. But it was Tommy who asked quietly, “How do you know about the league?”

“I’m telling you something isn’t adding up about her,” Oliver told them with his voice low and menacing as he shook his head, his gaze narrowing on her. As if the single look would force her to tell him.

“Oliver,” Clark stood up and moved, probably to stop the fight that was brewing between Green Arrow and her. “It’s okay, I can vouch for-”

“She’s the Mockingbird.” Nyssa Al Ghul announced to the room and up until this point she had been ignoring Damien’s aunt, until now Sarah turned to glare at the other woman. 

“Al Ghul shut your mouth-” Sarah warned in a snarl, but she knew the damage done. The Fucking League. She hated them almost as much as she hated ninjas.

“Mockingbird as in Batman, Robin, and Mockingbird?” Barry asked, looking from Sarah to Nyssa. His gaze slightly lit up as he eyed Sarah with a renewed interest. But Sarah got the sense it was more of a fanboy moment than lust in his gaze.

“Yes, Mr. Allen.” The heir of the demon inclined her head to the man in the flash suit as she continued to speak. “And Batman’s chosen successor to the cowl but she never accepted the honor of taking the mantle.”

The honor of taking the mantle…More like horror.

“But I thought…Mockingbird was dead? Because they only found the charred remains of her suit in San Francisco five years ago.” Felicity questioned softly as her eyes turned on her. 

Sarah flinched again and stepped back from the prying eyes. Yet that didn’t help. She still felt like…like before. Like she was drowning and no matter how hard she swam or tried to keep her head above water, a weight kept weighing her down. Like when her parents died or she put on the suit for the last time. 

“You could be a better Batman than me.” Bruce with all of his expectations. The Titans broke up after Garth was killed and…now this other Sarah wearing the Bat cowl.

She was getting sucked back into this world of masks, superheroes and vigilantes. She could feel it. Helping out Dick sporadically over the last few years was only the tipping point back into the world. 

“Air,” she muttered to no one in particular because she needed to do something, anything to get away from this drowning feeling weighing her down, “I need air.”

Then, before anyone could say anything to her, Sarah darted out of the laboratory.

[donnahinkleystaceytroy]

Lot #55: BATMAN & ROBIN (1997) - Batgirl's (Alicia Silverstone) Ice Armour Costume

Batgirl's (Alicia Silverstone) ice armour costume from Joel Schumacher's Batman & Robin. Batgirl donned her ice armour costume to aid Batman (George Clooney) and Robin (Chris O'Donnell) in saving Gotham City from Mr. Freeze (Arnold Schwarzenegger), Poison Ivy (Uma Thurman), and Bane (Jeep Swenson) in the film's finale. The film had the third-highest opening weekend gross of 1997 and, at the time, the seventh-highest non-holiday opening weekend of all time.

Designed by Ingrid Ferrin, Robert Turturice, and Bob Ringwood with components sculpted by Jose Fernandez, this leather and foam latex costume consists of a dark blue foam cowl with pointed ears, a matching bodysuit with a zippered back and a silver-colour bat insignia on the chest, a matching leather corset with a lace-up back, a scalloped leatherette cape with resin shoulder clips, dark blue leather gloves with silver-colour resin fins, a silver-colour rubber belt with a simulated buckle featuring a bat insignia, and a pair of thigh-length high-heeled leather boots with silver-colour bat insignias near the tops. The gloves and boots are replicas added to complete the costume. The entire costume has been mounted to a mannequin display made in Silverstone's likeness featuring green eyes, eyelashes, blonde hair, and painted details in the skin and lips. The arms are removable. The costume exhibits wear from use and age, including cracking in the foam elements, most notably in the shoulders and the bridge of the cowl's nose. Dimensions: (displayed) 43.25 cm x 61 cm x 183 cm (17" x 24" x 72")

Special shipping required; see notice in the Buyer's Guide.

Estimate: £10,000 - 20,000 US https://tinyurl.com/yc5v6mrh

[amaurotine-daydreaming]

XXIII. Suit

“Milord.” Lyna snapped her feet together, straightened her back, and braced her arms in a Crystarium salute.

Under his cowl, a broad smile spread across the Exarch’s face. “At ease, Lyna. Allow me to offer my congratulations on your induction into the Crystarium Guard.”

Even at sixteen summers, Lyna was now more than a full head taller than her guardian. She relaxed her stance and allowed herself a small smile down at him.

“I do not wish to keep you from your duties,” said the Exarch, “but if you have a moment, I have prepared a gift for you to mark the occasion.”

Lyna crossed her arms, turning wry. “Favoritism, my lord?”

He shrugged, still smiling. “I pray you will humor my indulgence as a proud guardian, just this once.”

She unfolded her arms, feeling the slightest bit the proud daughter despite herself. “Very well.”

—

There were years–about ten, precious years–in Lyna’s childhood where the Exarch had seen her express herself without reservation, years in which she allowed herself the carefree joy and open curiosity to which all children should be granted.

But the outside world gradually crept in, as the outside world is wont to do. He had always sought to give her as peaceful a young life as possible in the protective embrace of the Crystarium, without hiding her from the realities of this Light-drowned world. The Twelve knew she had suffered tragedy at the hands of the Light young, as so many did.

Then Lyna reached adolescence, and the Exarch watched as she withdrew into herself more. With his own quietude and painstakingly crafted persona of stoicism, he supposed he had not helped.

He did not begrudge her this change, but neither would he deny the joy he felt seeing pride in her eyes at the induction ceremony, and again standing before him; she hid it well, but he knew she was moved that he thought to mark the occasion with a gift.

“You will be familiar with this room,” the Exarch said, unlocking one of the nigh countless chambers of the Tower. Within was an armory stocked with racks upon racks of weaponry: bows, polearms, staves, swords…

Lyna’s lips parted with awe. “This room…I do not remember how I managed to find it the first time, and I never could again.”

“Which was just as well, for it is no place for a child,” the Exarch said, with a chastened laugh. “I fear I am at fault for it having been accessible in the first place.

“With your induction to the Guard, I wanted to give you the opportunity to consider the specialty you wish to pursue.” He swept his hand in a broad arc. “Whichever you feel suits you, I will have a replica commissioned.”

“I…do not know what to say,” Lyna breathed, looking around at the widest array of armaments that probably existed anywhere in Norvrandt. Some of them she didn’t even recognize. “Or, for that matter, where to begin.”

“Any choice you make need not be permanent.”

She turned to look over her shoulder. “But you, milord…you have mastered more than one art.”

“I also have had many more years to hone my skills,” he reminded her. “And even with the benefit of that time, a jack of all trades is, as they say, the master of none. There was even a time I wielded a bow, but I found my true calling in the arcane.”

Lyna ran her hand down the length of a compound bow. He had once been an archer? Or perhaps even a bard. But she did not ask, not anymore–instead she tucked away this new, treasured detail in her heart for safekeeping.

The Exarch glanced over his shoulder at the staff he carried ever near at hand. “Even when I turn to other arts as necessary, they derive from spellcraft–armaments crafted from aether, not steel. Otherwise I would not have the strength to wield them.” He smiled. “I couldn’t help but notice, however, that spellcraft does not seem to be in your area of interest.”

“No, milord,” Lyna admitted. “I find more comfort in the weight of steel.”

“Let us put aside spellcasting, then.” The Exarch walked further into the room, beyond the staves and scepters and battered leather grimoires. Lyna followed.

“I see that you are considering the bow,” he said. “Archery can be a prudent choice in your encounters with sin eaters. You will have the ability to strike them down before they can reach you, or if they are in flight. It will also allow you to aid someone if you are too far away to reach them on foot. However, I need not tell you that you will be at a disadvantage should their ranks close in around you.”

He stopped–they had reached a section of exclusively martial weapons. Lyna scanned through a variety of spiked horas, claws, and short blades. She tested the weight of a dagger in her hand, then carefully set it down again. The Exarch had intuited correctly, she realized: she wanted to be able to help her comrades-in-arms, no matter where she stood on the battlefield. Her chest tightened to think that her choice of weapon could cost lives–even her own–simply because she hadn’t been able to choose an appropriate weapon to master for her role….

The Exarch, it seemed, knew her better than she knew herself. And yet here she was, more than dozen summers in his care and still hoarding what little she knew of him like a starveling finding breadcrumbs. Her shoulders fell in a sigh.

“Lyna? Is something amiss?”

“No, my lord. It is simply…a lot of choices.”

Lyna moved on to a double-headed battle axe and stopped to gaze up at it. 

“Ah, the labrys,” said the Exarch, with a note of wistfulness. “I once knew a woman who….” He stopped and shook his head. “My apologies, that is neither here nor there. What you should know is that in practiced hands, it can become a cyclone of steel, a nigh-impenetrable wall of both offense and defense. As well it should be, since it would be your only defense.” 

“May I take it down?”

“Of course. See how it feels, and mind the weight of it.”

Grasping the labrys’s haft with both hands, Lyna gingerly lifted it from the rack…and staggered slightly under its weight. Her cheeks burned, but she managed not to drop the weapon. 

“Rest the haft and blade horizontally and spread your hands apart to distribute the weight, or keep your hands closer to the base and use your shoulder as a rest.”

Lyna heaved the weapon up and, in an effort not to accidentally take off part of her ear, dropped the haft so close to the edge of her shoulder she nearly toppled. The Exarch instinctively went to steady her, but she was quick to balance herself and he respectfully stood back. 

“Quite intimidating, if I do say so myself.”

Lyna rolled her eyes, embarrassed. 

“It is a bit heavy,” she admitted. “I will adjust to it in time, I am sure, but…” She frowned, shifting her weight and looking up at it. “Such weight feels counterproductive to mobility.”

She gingerly tilted the labrys forward. Its weight fell off her shoulder and the haft landed in her waiting palm.

“I am coming closer to a decision,” she stated, and replaced the axe on the rack. She was grateful the Exarch was never a man to laugh at someone else’s struggles, because putting the weapon back did not turn out to be as graceful an act as she would’ve liked. But she managed.

On the next rack were a selection of swords and shields, and further down from that were lances. Lyna walked over to the lances first. These were much easier to pick up, and she examined her choice up and down.

“This one I am partial to,” she said. “It has range and mobility, and…what is this?” She pointed to the top of the lance, where splitting from the simple metal point was a curved head, almost like a sickle, as well as a few barbs.

“Ah, the guisarme,” said the Exarch, smiling. “It’s specialized to hook and trip as well as impale.”

That sounded quite useful. But… Lyna ran her fingers along the wood haft.

“There is a danger of it breaking, yes. ‘Tis a risk to all weapons, of course, but for this one the drawback is more pronounced. However, it would be more than possible for the artisans of the Mean to fashion a more durable haft made from an alloy.”

Lyna hummed thoughtfully, frowning to herself. She replaced the guisarme on the rack for the moment and glanced back over at the swords and shields.

“Armaments of choice for some of the earliest and most storied heroes,” said the Exarch, looking over them with admiration fair glowing in his voice. “With one hand you may drive back the enemy, and with the other be a bulwark for yourself and innocents.” 

“You sound like you’re enjoying this, my lord.”

The Exarch chuckled. “As you well know, I have a tendency towards nostalgia for the stories of eld.”

“And these?” Hanging nearby was a pair of disc-shaped blades. With her height Lyna easily reached them, and was careful to loop her fingers along the inner edges as she lifted them from their pegs. Even with gloves on, the gleam of the sharp metal served as ample warning of the cut it was capable of.

“Chakrams,” stated the Exarch, although in holding them Lyna now recognized them. They were an uncommon choice of weapon, but not an unheard of one. “An excellent weapon for mobility and range without sacrificing the sharpness of steel. With a simple attunement to your aether, you will be able to recall them without risk of injury.”

Lyna tested their weight. Of all of the weapons she had tried so far, this one felt the closest to right. Except…

She made a face. 

“Ah,” said the Exarch, understanding. “Are you concerned about its associations?”

Lyna nodded curtly. Chakrams were sometimes used in twirling dances alongside sword-swallowers and other street performers. She did not want to introduce herself to the Guard’s ranks with a weapon that called to mind entertainment before aught else. 

“I would encourage you not to dismiss them out-of-hand, as it were,” said the Exarch. “If you worry about the respect of your fellows, I believe that will come sooner than you think.”

She eyed him. “You will not intervene on my behalf in that, I trust?”

The Exarch put a hand over his heart, shaking his head. “On my word, I will not. I am simply stating my confidence in your abilities to inspire your comrades in the days to come.

“And I know you are not one to allow pride to lead you to forsake a weapon that may best suit you.”

Lyna looked down, humbled. “You are right, of course.” 

With a chakram securely in each hand Lyna stretched her arms out, crossed them in front of her and then drew them back–a stretch in slow motion. Sharp. Lightweight. Mobile.

“Yes,” she said, holding one up to examine it more carefully in the light. “I believe these will suit me.”

[mae-dwrites]

Rue - Chatper 3

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Usually, the night wasn't this clear nor could you see the stars, but tonight seemed to be special on its own. This side of Gotham was much darker and quiet than it typically was during summer and especially after a holiday. The most light being thrown out was from street lamps and door lights. You'd only be able to vaguely spot a stray cat, if you looked up at the sky you could just make out some stars, winking at anyone who could spot them.

A subtle gust of wind came through making Spector's coat flutter a bit where he stood, his last stop as it was he was finishing up patrol for the night. He grunted as he landed on the fire escape and made his way down. He dropped down into the alley next to a garbage disposal, he removed the tarp revealing his motorcycle behind a semi-tall mountain of boxes. He backed out from beside the wall of boxes and sped out into the night.

The lights became neon strips, the wind screamed as it bit his face. The buildings seemed to melt together, only separating when making turns. He finally came to the Trigate Bridge, he weaved his way through the cars and trucks of Gotham civilians and foreigners.

He turned down a road that led into one of the more rural side of New Jersey. No more was their neon strips as he drove. The deep green shade of a blur, beyond the first few trunks darkness not many would be able to see through. If it weren't for the air still screaming in Spector's ears perhaps he would the few animals that were awake; the hooting of an owl; the sound of a twig snapping under the pressure of an opossum; the quick sound of a stray-awake fox looking for a midnight snack. Perhaps if he had been walking, on a stroll this night he would have caught the beady eyes of a raccoon watching him go by.

The Spector turned down a graveling trail, not a trail to those with dull eyes. About a mile down this trail it became a more solid, paved rock road. Head down a ways more you go through a tunnel leading to the Batcave. And to think if it had been any other motorcycle, he would have sounded like a radiator had caught a bad cough with 'VVVERRRWWRRR'.

"Anything to report," Batman grumbled.

"Other than an attempted mugging nothing else. It was a rather calm night," Spector responded. Batman frowned, "You made a detour from your route at 11:28. Why."

Spector made a frown alike if not a replica of Batman's. He may know Bruce to be paranoid but the man could stand to trust him more. But then again he did leave him at one point, what made him think he wouldn't leave Bruce again. Or at least Batman again.

"He found a stray cat and her fresh litter Bruce. Nothing to worry about," Barbara said rolling back in. Batman simply grunted in response, while he didn't like the reason he couldn't blame his son for going off to help some animals. He had always had a soft spot for them. He left to change out of his cowl.

Babs rolled in front of the Batcomputer with a small smile to herself as she did a quick run-through of Gotham. Spector leaned against the back of the chair next to Barbara, he gave an aggressive sigh and took off his mask.

Barbara's typing slowed for a moment before she continued at her regular speed, "Just say your thoughts, Damian."

Damian's lips became a thin line, contemplating whether to take the offer or wait to speak to his preferred associates. Most of them were most likely asleep but they would wake up at a moment's notice if necessary. But Barbara, like the rest of his family, knew how Bruce could be.

"Father still doesn't trust me." Damian finally said and stared at his mask. He felt as though a weight was pushing him down, it was an uneasy feeling, not one he was as familiar with.

"He's worried about you Damian. Yes, he is paranoid, we all know he is paranoid. He trusts all of us, even you. He's just hard-headed," Barbara turned to him," much like you." Damian frowned at her, while yes she was right that didn't mean he had to like it.

"You left Damian, only communicating with us only when you needed some papers signed. Just enough to let us know you're alive. You only came back for just a year before you left again." Damian glanced away from her some of his undesired guilt floating back up. While usually, he could not care less about how his actions left others when he was so sure of his decisions. But sometimes he second-guessed his decision from his youth.

"We didn't expect you to move to a different city for two years. It put everyone on edge at best." Barbara's eyes narrowed at Damian, "We had to figure out how to fill in the void of you leaving."

"The void of Robin leaving," Damian growled his anger coming up. Barbara rubbed her temple while Damian gripped his mask. Damian took moment to center himself, "I am sorry Gordon, I shouldn't direct my anger at you. It will not happen again."

"We both know it's not so simple." Barbara smiled and squeezed Damian's arm, "Your apology is accepted."

"I'm going to bed," was all he said and he stocked off from the red-haired woman. Barbara sighed as Damian's silent footsteps went away.

☾•☽

"Little D you need to spread your wings," Dick said pointing a fork at Damian.

Damian glanced up at his brother with a bored face. "Richard I believe I have already done my fair share of "spreading my wings" as you put it. I am content with where I am at the moment." Damian continued to eat as Dick frowned at him, "You should get a roommate."

Damian rolled his eyes, "Not this ridiculous ideology again."

"He doesn't really need a roommate Dick," Tim said, looking over some papers.

"I think it would be fun if you got a roommate Uncle Dame," Mar'i said from across the table. "Also perhaps you could use it as practice."

Damian turned to the girl, "In what regard do you mean Mar'i?"

"Like research, background checks, y'know? When was the last time you did an actual background check?" Mar'i glanced at her dad before dropping a sausage for Benson. Damian gave her a frown for that, she simply smiled innocently at him. Benson nudged Mar'i for another piece.

"Also!" Mar'i exclaimed before Damian could say anything to get her father's attention, "I could help." She smiled at Damian, her green eyes pleading with him. "It would not only be beneficial for you but for me!"

Damian knew she was trying to use this as an excuse to get out of being grounded, or at least to enjoy it. She didn't get to join her mother in going to Tamaran this summer as a part of her grounding. That was Kori's part of the grounding, Dick's was her restrictions on their nightly activities and who she was allowed to go with, and for her civilian life she could only go if Dick "approved."

Dick was frowning and as he opened his mouth Damian sighed, "You may help for the sake of practice if I ever decided to go with this ludicrous idea."

Dick had a feeling that it wouldn't be very soon that Damian would change his mind. So instead of disagreeing with the arrangement he ignored it. By the time Damian decided to have one it wouldn't be anytime this year most likely. Damian is calculating, he doesn't take risks. Yes sometimes he was still impulsive but he would not simply jump to just anything, let alone something like this.

Not that Dick knew he would be wrong, oh well.

-

Friendly reminder I will tag you if you’d like!

Also, I’ve started another fic! It’s called “Taking Flight,” it's a Maribat and Adrienette. Please check it out at least! Have a wonderful 3 am!

[flyguy]

🔔New Batman @mcfarlanetoys 7" tall Batman '89, '66 & Knightfall Cowl replicas pre-order now live ➡️ https://bit.ly/newdcdirect 🔗LINK IN BIO LINKTREE https://linktr.ee/FLYGUYtoys #imbatman #ad #batman1966 #batman1989 #batmanknightfall #dcdirect

[comicchannel]

DC Multiverse DC Direct Batman (1989) Cowl Replica - McFarlane Toys

Link para compra BR: *Possível importar pelo Link abaixo

Buy here: https://amzn.to/3zmBUtW

[aviationflyzone]

Elevate Your Space: Designing an Aviation-Inspired Sanctuary

For aviation enthusiasts, creating a room that captures the essence of flight can be an exhilarating project. From the sleek lines of modern jets to the nostalgic charm of WWII model airplanes, there are countless ways to infuse your living space with the spirit of aviation. Let's explore how to transform your room into a haven for flight aficionados.

Setting the Scene with Color and Texture

Begin by choosing a color palette that evokes the sky and aircraft. Soft blues paired with crisp whites can create a sense of soaring through clouds, while deeper navy tones with metallic accents might remind you of classic airplane exteriors. Consider incorporating textures that mimic aircraft materials - smooth leather reminiscent of pilot seats or brushed aluminum finishes that recall airplane fuselages.

Showcasing Model Airplanes

No aviation-themed room is complete without a carefully curated collection of airplane models. From sleek commercial jets to intricate WW2 aircraft models, these miniature marvels can serve as captivating focal points. Create a dramatic ceiling display by suspending model airplanes at varying heights, simulating flight patterns. Alternatively, dedicate a wall to floating shelves where you can showcase your prized WWII model airplanes, each telling its own story of aerial combat and heroism.

Incorporating Aviation Heritage

Embrace the rich history of flight by integrating vintage aviation elements. Frame authentic aircraft blueprints or display replica propellers as wall art. For a touch of wartime nostalgia, consider showcasing posters featuring iconic WWII aircraft alongside your WW2 aircraft models. These elements not only add visual interest but also serve as conversation starters for fellow aviation enthusiasts.

Functional Decor with an Aviator's Touch

Blend form and function by selecting furniture and accessories that complement your aviation theme. A desk fashioned from an airplane wing or a coffee table made from a repurposed aircraft door can serve as stunning centerpieces. Illuminate your space with lighting fixtures inspired by runway lights or vintage aircraft searchlights. For seating, consider leather armchairs reminiscent of pilot seats, complete with side tables crafted from engine cowlings.

The Final Boarding Call

As you put the finishing touches on your aviation-inspired room, remember that personalization is key. Whether you're passionate about modern commercial jets or have a soft spot for classic warbirds, let your interests guide your design choices. By thoughtfully combining color, texture, model airplanes, and aviation-inspired decor, you'll create a space that not only showcases your love for flight but also provides a unique retreat where your imagination can truly take wing.

[batmannotes]

McFarlane Toys: Batman 1:1 Scale Cowl Replica

Based on the one Michael Keaton wore in the 1989 film, this collectible stands approximately 24.5" high and includes a display stand.

Preordering launches tomorrow.

[darius-cordell-custom-dresses]

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[flyguy]

New Batman @mcfarlanetoys 7" tall Batman '89, '66 & Knightfall Cowl replicas pre-order 📅 TODAY ⏰ Noon ET ➡️ https://bit.ly/newdcdirect #imbatman #ad #batman1966 #batman1989 #batmanknightfall #dcdirect

[comicchannel]

DC Multiverse DC Direct Batman Knightfall (1993) Cowl Replica - McFarlane Toys

Link para compra BR: *Possível importar pelo Link abaixo

Buy here: https://amzn.to/3XDaiKo

[internationalrealestatenews]

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[chivalrain]

𓆰 masked, show your true self [The Wanderer & Xingqiu]

Starter for @hxllowedpuppet

[SUMERU]: During the previous reign of the Great Sages, many festivities and celebrations were banned in the pursuit of complete control and knowledge. As such, it’s about time we revive and create some new special events to be held. One bright student at the Akademiya read about ancient parties held where people would disguise themselves as monsters to ward off lingering evil energies. While dressing up as a Hilichurl or a slime may not be the hip thing amongst the newer generation, the point still stands that you are hereby invited to the first ever Sumeru Akademiya Costume Party Extravaganza!!! Held in the Rtawahist main hall. Snacks will be provided. :)

It was not how he'd planned to visit Akademiya, but there was no way he'd pass up the chance to see the great institution in person. News of the revived festival had managed to spread even to Liyue, and Xingqiu had pulled a few strings to get a perfect costume ready in time.

Too perfect.

He could hold his own, though he didn't want to against fellow travelers and the people of Sumeru. However, he wasn't fond of the idea of taking his costume off either. For what felt like the tenth time, he waved his gloved hands pacifyingly at a terrified civilian.

"Listen," he said, under the full covering of his Abyss Mage mask and cowl. "I mean you no harm! I am not a real Abyss Mage. Surely you can hear my voice doesn't match that of those troublesome rogues. Could you please direct me towards Akademiya?"

He had to admit, it was funny.

Directed towards the main hall, he made his way there in full costume, stopping behind a stranger near the hall. He couldn't tell what this person was dressed as, but surely he would be attending, right? Xingqiu tapped him on the shoulder, smile hidden behind his mask.

"Boo!" He spread his arms wide, striking a pose while holding a replica of an Abyss Mage staff proudly.

With that out of the way,

"What's your costume? Surely you are joining us in this ancient celebration."