#Epistemophiliac : Bookworm

[who-is-muses]

[ stealing this not-RPC meme dw about it ]

Why is your OC named what they're named? Is there a different reason in-universe than out-of-universe?

Antonio da Vinci

In-universe: he was abandoned at the orphanage with his full name (Luca Antonio Nicolò Bellissima) written on a piece of parchment tucked into his swaddle. He (much) later added the "da Vinci" piece on himself, both to mock his father and fuel his own ego.

Out-of-universe: I wanted him to have a period appropriate name with matching syllables to Leonardo- but at the same time, this fictionalized version of Leonardo would absolutely give a kid two first names and two middle names regardless if it was even heard of at the time.

Bookworm

In-universe: after his father got to name their first three children, Edwin's mother insisted on naming their youngest. There is no family meaning behind his first name or two middle names (Langdon Cassius), she just liked them.

Out-of-universe: in the '66 Batman show, Bookworm was given the name I.N. Kingor- but I wanted to play even more to the similarities with the Riddler to make it all the funnier that they have zero influence on each other before Edwin returned to Gotham, thus needed an Ed- name and have always liked the name Edwin. I have him two new middle names with different initials because "E.L.C. Kingor" sounds better than "E.N. Kingor" to me.

Goswin

In-universe: it's the name of xis not-quite-dead-but-definitely-not-alive mortal lover xe stole from him to try and save his life (it's a long story.) Though it isn't xis real name, most fae are reluctant if not outright adverse to giving that out, thus xe has taken to using it as a default in his memory.

Out-of-universe: I wanted an old Germanic name for xem to emphasize the fact it's not his actual name- being an English-Irishman reborn as a Celtic mythical creature- and the fact Goswin means "friend of the Goths" won me over. It's in reference to the North Germanic tribe of people not the global subculture, but still.

Habeas Corpus

In-universe: their birth-name Caziiz has debated meaning, but undeniably religious origins and connotations. Arriving on Earth and beginning to consume whatever literature they could find, they were particularly infatuated with the Latin language- and quite liked the idea of bastardizing the writ they took their new name from.

Out-of-universe: Habeas Corpus is just one of those words or phrases that scratches my brain, and I really wanted to think up a kidnapping, cult-leading, eldritch monster to use it as a name/title for. Additionally, there is no h or s in Habeas' mother-tongue- only ch- and z- noises where they would be- but that was decided after giving them the name.

The Ichor

In-universe: their birth-name Athanasios didn't really have any special meaning beyond the name's etymology- essentially "without death"- their parents prone to eclectic, slightly outdated names. Their Killer title was actually one of the few not devised by a Survivor but another Killer- specifically Talbot, using the name as a descriptor in a report to the Entity.

Out-of-universe: as mentioned, the name Athanasios means "without death" or, more simply, "immortal"- and it was a bid for immortality that they were transformed against their will. Their surname Tavoularis means "literary assistant," essentially "scribe" or "secretary." As for their Killer title, the substance ichor was originally used in Ancient Greece and Rome to describe what flowed through the veins of the gods and some demigods- but also took on the meaning of the serum excreting from wounds while healing as well as the plasma found in blood.

Thoth

In-universe: initially- and for several centuries after- the deity eventually called Thoth didn't have a name, and coyly refused to provide one to be called by. Getting fed up with this, Ra fashioned the ibis birds with their beaks curving like a stylus and provided him a name derived from them- Djehuty, or "he who is like the ibis." Millennia later, Egypt was invaded and conquered by the Greeks, and many of the resident deities were forcefully given new Hellenized names- Djehuty becoming Thoth, this being the name that spread most and is most common (but least powerful.)

Out-of-universe: historically speaking, the deity has been given a handul of different names and countless different spellings of each- I really just picked which were most common. Additionally, to my knowledge, there is no myth surrounding the creation of ibises one way or another- so the idea they were crafted for him specifically is an idea I thought up for Echoes.

[once-was-muses]

@guardian-of-gotham | Continued

"Right. Edwin," Bruce corrected himself with a nod. He was far more interested in the name the impish bookbinder used on any nighttime outings, though. The personality, the dedication to his craft, the attention to detail... Everything seemed a perfect fit for the bibliophilic rogue, Bookworm.

Such thoughts plagued Bruce's mind until, suddenly, his entire mind went blank for a moment. Heat and a reddish hue overtook his face, starting with the spot on his cheek where he'd just been kissed. He wasn't quite sure what to make of the action, his mind not fully processing it yet, but eventually, he simply elected to focus on his investigation. "I, um-" he started before shaking his head a bit to compose himself. "Is there, ah, anything else you're skilled at?" He was hoping to get an answer that might tie Edwin to Bookworm's gadget-building; although, he likely could've phrased the question better if he weren't so flustered.

The logic center of Edwin’s brain is screaming at him, but his face can't help donning a less composed smile. With another giggle, he automatically answers, "oh, plenty of things, Mr. Wayne."

There are times he'd kick himself if he could. Like right now, this is a perfect example.

Nevertheless, the sensible part of his mind is overshadowed by the sensual. Turning on his heels to face Bruce, the shorter man back leans against the table and looks up at him through his lashes.

(Oh god, don't let him be able to hear your heart pounding-)

"If you'd like," he continues, honeyed, fingers reaching to play with the other's lapel, "I could be convinced to show you a few... Free of charge, even."

[once-was-muses]

@knightlier

maybe the real benefit was the friendship itself

what about all the sex we had along the way

[who-is-muses]

@distant-wcrlds | Send me ‘Shipping and Handling’ for romance advice regarding my muse(s)! [ ACCEPTING ]

Shipping and Handling for Winnie, Jon, and Bro'Dee?

[ adding in the Misters Dent from your other ask :^) ]

While Edwin tries to not be that shallow, he truly does grow bored and even frustrated in dealing with people that aren't on the same intellectual level as him. Ego aside, his brilliance really is a curse sometimes, having been one reason he was alienated at various points in his life. So someone that not only isn't intimidated by his smarts, but can also understand him in full nerd-talk (or at least can ask the right questions to understand) is definitely going to catch his attention.

Edwin is case in point for the saying "the quickest way to a man's heart is through his stomach-" alongside books and small machinery, good food is one of his biggest passions. However, he himself is a disaster in the kitchen, so a man that can cook and/or bake is extra attractive to him.

This could be called a non-answer, but Edwin is a sucker for romance. All the cheesy, tooth-rotting classics; flowers, picnic dates, even things simple as opening and holding doors for him. It makes him feel special, of course, but moreso it plays into his longstanding fantasy of a fantastical courting, like something out of a fairytale.

It's absolutely a common theme of most muses here, but patience is so extremely important for Jon. He's an incredibly difficult man that already both distrusts people and doesn't think himself worthy of love. Proving him wrong, refusing to let him chase you off will at the very least (eventually) make him second guess not believing you about loving him. But keep in mind it will take longer still before he actually lets you in.

Check on him, force him to put whatever he's working on down and take care of himself. It doesn't matter how close you are, he will bitch and moan, hem and haw about it as long as he feels necessary- but ultimately, he does appreciate it. Especially if you make it clear you aren't interrupting him for your own personal needs- besides him not working himself to death.

Do not try to force him to do anywhere or do anything- but invite him to accompany you on outings or to keep you company on errands, even if it's something he obviously can't agree to for whatever reason. As silly as it is- and he absolutely scolds himself for it- he's genuinely touched whenever someone expresses an honest desire for his company. (Although, again, it will take time before he believes that it's honest.)

Bro'Dee is an absolute sap, especially when he's in a romantic relationship. Tell him you love him, even for no other reason just to say it, and he'll be in awe every single time. He'll return it as well, of course, it just might take a second or two for his brain to let go of you saying it and catch up.

Presents are a large part of a traditional Astonian romance- but nothing expensive or even necessarily grand. In yet another bizarre similarity to Earth, gifting someone a particular species of flower was customary in asking them to become one's partner. It was also typical for couples consisting of at least one walker (the traveling holy profession Bro'Dee had before Astonia was destroyed, hence the surname) to trade small trinkets at a journey's beginning and when they were reunited at its conclusion. Sometimes these were handcrafted trinkets, other times they were interesting small pieces of nature discovered and kept as a surprise.

The reverse of Edwin, Bro'Dee simply adores cooking for people. This one is also kind of a cop-out because one doesn't necessarily need to be romantically involved with him for Bro'Dee to get fulfillment out of it, but they certainly aren't excluded.

It goes without saying, but one treating Harv just the same as they treat Harvey matters immensely. Even just being friendly with Harv- they share a body and head, so it's nice to be able to agree on at least one thing. Especially if that's a person one of them cares about.

Though it gets downplayed a lot (and I admit the stylization of my icons doesn't help), their scars are extensive and horrific. Both understand being shocked when one discovers just how far the scars reach, but it still hurts after all this time when someone recoils every time they lay eyes on them. This doesn't mean you need to prove how unphased you are by them by touching all over their scarring- some places are completely dead nerve-endings wise, others are extra sensitive. Just learn to accept all them, and that the scars are part of that all.

On a related note, make sure they're taking care of themselves. Both of the Dents are gifted in self negligence, and while Harv is decent at remembering- he can’t remind Harvey to moisturize their wounds if he's just as fixated on something.

[who-is-muses]

Edwin owns a fair number of trick jewellery, many pieces of which he had specially commissioned. They're mostly "fashionable yet useful" in the likes of spy gadgets, such as a pinky ring with a hidden letter opener, a pair of cufflinks each with a micro-USB, and a tie clip that's actually an eyeglass screwdriver.

He does also own a few puzzle and fidget rings for something to anxious stim with other than wringing his hands past the point of hurting.

[once-was-muses]

Edwin is listening to the two hroos' conversation, obviously slightly concerned. (Arguably not as much as he should be.)

[once-was-muses]

There's a small groan of annoyance from Edwin, but he obeys- or, at least, he attempts to. Instead, he winds up half-falling against Zsasz in the process of readjusting himself. Too tired to feel particularly bad about it- he didn't mean to- Edwin nuzzles his cheek against the other's shoulder.

Never mind the fact that makes getting any of the soup into his mouth extremely difficult. His need for food is battling with his need to be cozy, and favor has shifted towards the latter.

At least for now, ntil the aroma changes the tides yet again.

e-l-c-kingor​:

Edwin groans, obviously distressed by the prospect of being abandoned as he’d no doubt describe it. He attempts to make some statement to appease Zsasz, only for it to come out a garbled mush of words, Edwin rolling his head to the side to follow the other man as he leaves.

However timely he may be, Edwin’s pout is soon lost as his exhaustion creeps in again, eyes beginning to droop. He tries to fight it, he really does, but his bed is so soft, and there’s still some residual warmth of Zsasz next to him…

He makes an undignified snort upon Zsasz reentering the room, trying to simultaneously sit himself up and figure out what he asked. “Always,” he answers automatically once he does, holding his trembling hands out expectantly. As if he could anything steady right now.

Victor surprises himself. He doesn’t laugh. Philosophize how he might about his awakened, human state, feelings like empathy and, god forbid, care have a way of surprising him, unnerving him even.

He shakes his head at Edwin’s outstretched hands, returning to his seat on the bed. “Not with that tremor, unless you feel like wearing this.” He can’t quite look at him as he twists the spoon handle in his fingers. “Sit back against the headboard, and I’ll…” He gestures, vague. The confidence gone out of his movement, Victor looked almost tentative, as if the upper hand he was so used to relishing had slipped out of his fingers. “So you won’t choke. Or spill, or…”

[once-was-muses]

@distant-wcrlds | headcanon memes inspired by things i like

💥🥀⚰️ for Jon, Edwin, and Walker? Either in that order or all 3 for all 3

[ 💥 ] is your muse protective of those they care for? if so, how do they show it?

Extremely so. Jonathan appears to be aloof and uncaring on the surface, but deep inside is a fiercely loyal and arguably overprotective man. He's been known to stalk those that manage to make it into his well guarded heart, following them on potentially dangerous excursions so that he's close by should things go south.

[ 🥀 ] what are your muse’s standards for a romantic partner? are they realistic? why do they have these standards?

Edwin likes to think himself hard to get- a luxury few can afford- but is really so desperate for romantic companionship and company in general that his standards are dismally low. Combined with his questionable taste in men, it's unsurprising this has landed him in hot water in the past.

[ ⚰️ ] does your muse believe in an afterlife? if so, what do they believe the afterlife would look like?

Very much so- though "afterlife" may not be the most accurate. Reincarnation is closer to the Astonian concept of what happens after death, but even then isn't quite accurate. In their religion, the Astonian people were created when their Moon Gods touched the oceans, crafting them out of seafoam and moonbeams; when they die, their spirit returns to this union, taking a piece of the ocean with them to the heavens as a star, the close company and acolytes of the Moons. Each star is the memory of an Astonian, entirely conscious- until they choose to return from the heavens in another form, perhaps a great tree or newly hatched infant, signaled by a shooting star.

Without a planet to return to, Bro'Dee has taken to thinking of shooting stars less as returning spirits but instead symbolic of the ancestors traveling the universe, seeing its many wonders and checking on their children scattered throughout. His family is of course amongst them, a bittersweet notion.

[once-was-muses]

@mcnomaniametus | Send my muse some flowers and they'll react to their meaning

Begonia, iris, and viscaria makes up the small vase of flowers Jonathan shoves at Edwin. - for Bookworm :)

The gods of hand-eye-coordination seeming to take pity on him just this once, Edwin manages to stop the vase from tipping over. It takes him a moment of admiring the striking, unusual yet appealing arrangement- the iris being one of his favorites- before the subtextual meaning of flower bouquets computes in that brilliant brain of his.

Ever shameless, he acknowledges the warning and outright disobeys it, linking his other arm with the taller man’s. Surprisingly without so much as a single word at Jon's expense, but the impish smirk on his face is just as obnoxious.

[once-was-muses]

@envychosen | In honor of SPOTIFY WRAPPED,  send me a number 1-100 and I’ll write you a starter based on the song.

spotify wrapped no. 96, dealer's muse choice, drabble ok too

At My Most Beautiful - R.E.M.

When asked to describe Edwin L.C. Kingor, the majority of people can't be faulted for using words like 'friendly,' 'outgoing,' 'gregarious'- he's spent many years training the extrovert part of being an extroverted introvert. He can play the part with the same poise and practice as any other role, so long as he has ample time to psych himself up for it.

Another descriptive which far less people would use for him is 'procrastinator,' but it's nevertheless accurate. He was meant to make this business call a month ago, then two weeks ago, then last Wednesday- He can pretend he's not quite as neurotic in face to face conversation, where he can watch the other party and react to them. Phone calls require him to fly quite literally blind. Damn his list of diagnoses.

When he punches in the number (bought off a fellow information trader), Edwin jumps in his seat when the phone begins to ring rather than inform him the line is busy or completely nonexistent. Quickly straightening his posture in his chair, checking his appearance in the reflection off his filing cabinet, he does his best to keep the anxious shrieking inside his head. As it turns out, he really didn't need to worry, because his heart leaps up into his throat as soon as a voice comes out of the speaker.

Struggling past the lump in his throat, Edwin stammers out, "y-yes, hi- Hello! Um, good e-evening. Is- Is this Dr. Sivana perchance?"

[once-was-muses]

Fortunately for Elise, Edwin has always been on the heavier side of sleepers- albeit with a habit for unconscious mumbling. Especially with the adrenaline rapidly draining from his system now, so utterly exhausted he didn't have a chance to try staying awake.

The man receiving the call, however, is very much on the opposite end. Jonathan hadn't even realized he'd dozed off until the sudden ringtone makes him jump, the sudden action combined with being awkwardly hunched over his desk causing something in his back to pop. Grunting at the stab of pain, he levels a withering glare at the device next to him before picking it up to answer.

He hardly has the time to get out a single, irritated syllable before a voice most certainly not belonging to Edwin comes over the line. Immediately assuming the worst, he snaps, demands, "where is he?"

Moved to Beta editor from; Here

Edwin himself is next to nod, punctuated by a small, incoherent noise. “Sleep sounds nice.” A yawn is his body voicing its agreement.

Somewhere in his gradually silencing mind, he feels guilty about Jonathan learning about this, and the inevitable stress that’ll bring him. He feels bad for bringing this onto Elise, too, regardless of the fact he had absolutely no control over the situation. He doesn’t care much for being a nuisance.

Almost unintelligible, he mumbles, “’m sorry…”

Now it was her turn to nod, agreeing that sleep would do him good. Her fingers continued trailing their pattern on his back, hoping to lull him into a steady sleep.

While his words did not go past her, Elise didn't respond. There was nothing for him to be sorry for. He was her friend; of course, she would help, and even if he wasn't, she still would have. Healing was her job. When his breathing evened out, she began untangling herself without waking him. It was slow progress as she stopped whenever he stirred too much, but eventually, she managed. Next was locating a phone of sorts. Glancing around, her eyes settled on his pockets, noticing...something. Taking a chance, the mage removed what turned out to be a phone, a cellphone, of the modern kind. Frowning, she turned it over, trying to find the button to light it up. Trying one with no luck; her fingers brushed over the screen only for it to come to life, showing a code was needed.

Right... 1, 2, 3, 4. Despite the silly attempt, the mage was slightly disappointed when the phone refused to unlock. What code would Edwin use? What code would Edwin use? Something smart, no doubt, but what was smart? Turning the phone over again as if hoping for a clue, Elise was happily surprised when she noticed an unremarkable but familiar type of button. Very smart. Gingerly placing one of Edwin's fingers against the button a happy click confirmed the phone had unlocked.

Quickly she searched through it, and after ten minutes, found the number pad. Leaving the room as she typed in Jonathan's number, she waited for the sound of the phone call getting accepted. Once it did Elise began speaking.

"Yes, hello Jonathan. This is not Edwin... It's Elise. Are you sitting down?"

( @who-is-muses )

[once-was-muses]

@the-arkham-librarian | Misc. Asks

Eliza slinks in Edwin and Jon's shared home, drops her bag on the floor, and sits on the couch next to Edwin.

To say Edwin is surprised by Jonathan’s lack of reaction to their front door suddenly opening wouldn’t be inaccurate, if an understatement- But immediately recognizing their red and green, self invited guest, he puts the pieces together and relaxes immediately.

(For all of Jonathan’s posturing as an aloof misanthrope, he is quick to learn the habits of those people deemed worth remembering, their pattern of footsteps and choices of fragrance to identify them at a distance, no sight necessary. Such a mind for minor details.)

Untucking his legs from under himself to give Eliza more room on the couch, Edwin counteracts that as soon as her weight joins the cushions, switching the direction he leans to set his head against his dear friend. Eyes still trained on the lines of his book, of course, but a smile playing at his lips.

"To what do we owe such a marvelous surprise visitor as you?"

[once-was-muses]

"Good morning! Today is a certain Dr. Crane's birthday. He's currently hiding in his lab, but I already took the day off from the Assemblage. Neither the keurig nor the coffee pot have been used yet, so it's only a matter of time."

[once-was-muses]

His immediate instinct is to follow after Jonathan- to make himself seem useful, be ready to catch any breaking pieces, mother trained him well- but again, Edwin resists. Crowding him won't do any good.

And Edwin has to accept that sometimes, there isn't anything he can do to help but just be present.

His palms itch at the idea, as if his hands themselves are distressed by not having a way to fix things immediately, beginning to wring them without noticing. A nervous habit, just like his eyes bouncing from Jonathan to the floor when he turns back to face him, then looking back at him, then the opposite wall, then the floor again, then- The othor rogue doesn't need to have any kind of psychology knowledge to detect the anxiety positively radiating out of the small body.

"Right- A staging area," he echoes, somehow just that little bit more freaked out saying it aloud.

Staging area for what exactly? What does he have in mind? How much of a part do I play? Oh god, please don't make me blow someone up-

"Are there any... Types of staging you have in mind?"

@who-is-muses | continued from x

A twitch of the eye. Edwin isn't understanding.

His brown eyes fall to his wrist, the one the Bookworm had been about to grasp. No, he isn't stupid, and neither is Edwin. Grabbing his wrist could have served multiple purposes. Skinship, to promote positive feelings, affection, a momentary lapse in judgement and the recognition of the bond the two of them shared as friends. Disabling, to grasp Crane in a way that made it so he couldn't escape or attack, a method that would have been more effective had Edwin moved to grab Crane's prosthetic instead. A throw, using the force of Edwin's own mass and speed combined with Crane's naturally acrobatic and light form to throw him into something and possibly knock him out.

Instead, Edwin chose none of these things. No manipulation, no meshing, no manslaughter. He chooses the absence of these things, and Crane realizes that his potential victim is still trying to do the right thing.

His gaze softens and shame sours his expression. "...you never told them. I don't know why I would ever think you did, nor why I thought you would be sloppy enough to let them know. No... this was my fault."

He moves to distance himself from the shorter man, shame burning him alive. "And I was ready to kill you for my own damn mistake." It's a horrified whisper. A disgusting realization.

"...no. I will not hide. I will not give them the satisfaction. I will fight." His gaze turns to the foyer and he sighs. This would be one big fucking mess to clean up. "I cashed in many favors to get these explosives from Sionis. They will not be wasted... but they will not be used tonight." His gaze turns to Edwin. "We will need a staging area, from which to carry out our war against Quorum."

[once-was-muses]

[ An important (to me) thing about Edwin is while he is a vain, egotistical cunt- he will use his ego to boost his loved ones' with statements like 'the only person I like as much as myself-' 'the only person as interesting as I am-' 'very few people are as enjoyable to talk about as myself and-' ]

[once-was-muses]

what kind of villain are you?

dubiously evil

you do what you have to. to some, what you're doing is wrong, and to others, it is undeniably right. despite this, you continue. even if you don't enjoy it, you'll continue. when you die, you most likely feel one of two ways. disappointed, if you couldn't reach your goal. was all this for nothing? and, on the other hand, proud and relieved. this is a burden you've carried for far too long, and now it's one you can let go. you don't fight it either way.

Tagged by: @king-crane

Tagging: @ me again but with Red Lantern Walker