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doctor-badadvice · 1 year ago

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This man has not updated his wardrobe since 1947

There's already a few posts discussing outfits and symbolism and while I found them very interesting, I'm a person of strong opinions now writing two characters with chess related names. So here's my two cents (or should I say, nickels) about Bishop's appearance throughout the 2003 show and what tells us about the specific moment of his life that's being portrayed. The focus will be mainly on the palette, but also on whatever influences are behind the designs.

So let's get started!

1815 — Battle of New Orleans

Here's the first disclaimer. I know next to nothing about US history past what little school required me to learn and generically speaking, I've never been interested in the nuances of how people come together to kill each other. History classes were far more interesting to me when we talked about society and culture. So take what I'll say with a grain of salt. My military expertise here is a couple Wikipedia pages.

As far as Bishop's uniform goes, I have no idea what's going on. I read that uniforms were supposedly mainly blue with whatever color corresponded to what the unit's duty was, with the exception of musicians who had their colors swapped. If that's true, Bishop here could have been a musician having a not so great day at work. But the field medics later in the flashback are wearing the same color so it's probably just a choice to keep the color palette consistent.

Other than that, the belt would suggest he had some kind of rank. Though I don't think they were trying to be accurate past the bare minimum. I'm not going to guess what Bishop was up to in his mortal days.

Also, a special mention goes to Bishop's facial hair. He must have been popular in his time.

1870 — Creation of EPF

This is where colors start being relevant but first, another disclaimer. I appreciate the work wiki editors do, but it would be nice to have sources to whatever's stated on a given page, especially if you're providing estimated dates. I can't say I disagree, but it'd be nice to know where the information comes from.

So the wiki says that Bishop was supposedly born in 1776. It means that at the time of EPF's foundation he was nearing his hundredth birthday. No wonder he's dressing in all black. The average life expectancy at the time was about 40 years old. It's very possible Bishop had already outlived most, if not everyone he knew and it's probably something one would struggle to come to terms with.

Design wise, turtlenecks were nothing new at the time. Medieval knights wore garments in a similar shape under their armors well before the 15th century. And yes, I guess that's more of a coat than the average tactical turtleneck, but it still gives him a hitman, or even hunter vibe which is more or less what he was up to at the time.

1947 Roswell. New Mexico/present times

I can finally explain the title now. But first, let’s take a step back!

Bishop’s default outfit is the secret agent outfit™ we’re all well accustomed to. Specifically, I think the closest he takes inspiration from is Agent Smith from the Matrix movies (as I previously mentioned here). Guy in a black suit with shades, apparently impeccable self control and a distinctive way of talking that compels you to listen to him.

There’s so much to say about motivations and themes these two share, but let's focus on the aesthetic side.

These two fools are men in black. Yes, like the movies. The whole trope originates from some old conspiracy theories about the US government hiding aliens. These theories date all the way back to 1947 from some guy named Harold Dahl claiming a man in a dark suit told him not to tell anyone about some UFO sightings. Various fellow ufologists made similar claims over the years, making it a staple of their general paranoia.

Because of the second flashback, it’s possible that Bishop himself was one of these men in black, if not the one the rumors started from. It's a funny thought and I feel like Bishop would also find it amusing to watch people lose their minds about his fashion choices for decades.

Color wise, white has been added to the mix. It’s been a while now since the creation of EPF and Bishop has found some kind of balance in his life. He’s still dead set in his hatred for aliens and clearly enjoys inflicting pain on creatures he sees as undeserving of basic human decency, but he now has some purpose other than looking at the sky for something to shoot down. He leads an elite task force with men and funding devoted to developing a proper defense of the planet. He’s a foe not to be underestimated and a formidable fighter who can and will take on multiple opponents. But he’s also a very scared man who doesn’t wish what happened to him on anyone.

I often praise the show because Bishop can survive getting impaled but he still remains human. He will react with sheer violence to aggression and reform his ways when shown kindness. He will happily stick his hands in turtle soup for some DNA, but also be the best man at his friend's wedding and even attempt dressing up for the occasion despite having been deprived of normal human interactions for more than a century.

(I know it's a little cluttered in this point but I can't just leave out Casual Friday Bishop)

Design wise, I like just how an otherwise elegant attire works during the fight scenes and this detail specifically.

This man’s power is stored in the leggy.

Interlude

So this pic above is me right now.

For context, I usually consider the episodes of the staged alien invasion to the outbreak as part of the same arc. The entire situation is absolutely absurd from Bishop dragging the president into his fanfiction in response to budget cuts, to Baxter's bodily misadventures, to Bishop making a deal with a random ghost over the phone while New York is turning into yet another Umbrella Corp mishap.

But anyways we're here to judge this man's fashion taste and we have two outfits to talk about.

First off, a special mention goes to the catsuit and this pose specifically.

The sass is off the charts.

Though I find this one kind of depressing. There isn't a lot to read in it either other than Baxter grabbing the most generic tactical turtleneck for the sake of keeping Bishop from walking around bare chested (and the scene before this pic clearly shows Bishop isn't afraid to show some titty). But seeing him in all black right after moving to a new body kinda points out that Agent Bishop, leader of the EPF, is kinda on par with a piece of military equipment (and the president probably sees him as much to an extent). He's the mold for an army of supersoldiers for crying out loud.

But he switches back to the usual suit afterwards and what matters here is the supersuit.

S3 onward

Imagine being an alien, member of the starfleet of your planet and senior officer of the invading force tasked with taking over Earth. You have trained hard, wargamed the whole operation a bunch of times and concluded that it will be piss easy to conquer this underdeveloped planet.

You reach the surface, get into formation and then this nerd rolls up.

The best way to describe this suit is "hostile". It's hostile to the animators and to whoever has to stare at this eyesore before Bishop shoots at them.

And I love it. There's nothing quite like a black and red suit of armor with various cybernetics and lights to say that you mean business. It goes very well with how the stakes just start steadily rising from this point of the show onwards and seeing as the suit was ready during the staged invasion, we know that Bishop never really planned to retire after unleashing his army of clones.

It adds that extra bit of cyberpunk that I like to see and it shows that Bishop never truly gives up on anything since we have actually seen this design before.

Bishop was so proud of his Slayer he just stuck with him in spirit.

Couple that with a new coat to take off for extra dramatic effect and— maybe the president was right about not trusting him with unlimited budget.

2105 — New York apparently

Another century has passed and Bishop is still alive and kicking. Well, he doesn't kick as much anymore as it would be unbecoming if the beloved president of the Pan-Galactic Alliance were to go around kicking alien butt.

Jokes aside, you can disagree with Bishop's portrayal in Fast Forward, but they were still trying to do something meaningful with him. The idea of the turtles having to work with him when they were trying to kill each other just the other day is surprisingly deep for a season that felt the need to have the most unfunny robobutler ever.

They were clearly attempting a chess joke switching the palette to white with black streaks. Bishop has completely turned his life around and it even shows in the way he presents himself. It's nice to see just how much he managed to accomplish as well, even though it would have been very interesting to see him have a gradual change of mind, rather than selling us the concept through timeskip magic.

Does the design still hold up then?

Well, Bishop is clearly making an effort to look the least intimidating. He is fairly more patient when others don't immediately do as he says, even asking for help rather than blackmailing, and is still commendably dedicated to his job. He still asserts dominance by showing leggy (seriously, Mr President, that slit doesn't have to go this hard) and he's still deep down, at all times, ready to throw hands.

That's Bishop alright and it's no coincidence that he starts running around shooting aliens the second Baxter shows up in his life again. I'm not much of a fan of his new armor though. I think they were going for a futuristic design but it's the blandest they could think of. It reminds me of Obi-Wan Kenobi's armor in The Clone Wars but it just kinda comes out of nowhere. It would have been cooler if his tunic turned into a set of armor kinda like what the turtles got.

In any case, if you really want to see reformed Bishop really shine, you should check out @adenthemage / @violetvulpini 's art. You will not be disappointed.

#tmnt 2003 #agent bishop #oof #this was one hell of a ride #I haven't discussed anything in this length since uni #Tumblr also decided to complain about the number of pics I was adding #hopefully it won't be as much of a pain when I come around to talk about his fighting style

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dailyanarchistposts · 17 days ago

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Harold Barclay

I am very pleased to have received some substantial comments from Harold Barclay: professor emeritus in anthropology at the University of Alberta and author of The State, Buurri al Lamaab: A Suburban Village in the Sudan, Culture: The Human Way, The Role of the Horse in Man’s Culture, People without Government: An Anthropology of Anarchy, Culture and Anarchism, and Longing for Arcadia: Memoirs of an Anarcho-Cynicalist Anthropologist.

Thanks for sending me your essay on the Iroquois, It appears to be a very good piece of research, although I am not an Iroquois specialist. I have the following comments: First, one has to be extremely careful in using myths and oral traditions as data. Too often they are polished up to fit a contemporary view of propriety or someones idea of correctness. Second, and more important I suspect that you have greatly overestimated the density of population. The density you report as 200 per acre refers only to the inhabitants of the towns and does not encompass the surrounding garden area or hunting grounds. Iroquois depended entirely on wild game for meat and this would require a large area around any town. for hunting (Hunter gatherers — non gardeners- usually require 5–10 square miles per person. It would be more dense for horticulturalists but not enormously more). Then if they had, as reported, a million bushels of corn in reserves this would require 5000 acres in addition to all the other corn grown as well as squash and beans. I suspect that this ultimately means clearly less than 50 per square mile- a figure which could still make Iroquois a more densely populated area than others although one should not forget fishing specialists such as the New England Coast or the West Coast of Canada and the Alaskan Panhandle, nor the horticultural and cattle herding stateless societies in Africa. Third, I have found little mention of the role of Mothers brother in the Iroquois literature. In Matrilineal societies with which I am most familiar the Mother’s Brother has a considerable amount of authority and.power. Indeed in several African Matrilineal (and avunculocal) societies he is the boss. Malinowski, of course, used the MB in matrilineal Trobriand society as an argument against Freud and his claims for an Oedipus Complex. Fourth, on Indians and anarchism: Clearly a sort of state structure with elected chiefs and councils has been imposed upon most Indian groups and they appear to now accept this as only proper. I suppose they may be embarrased if you point out that they once had an anarchistic arrangement. Dene of the Canadian NWT have as I understand it at least achieved in some ways a consensual arrangement in their political system. Fifth, Iroquois may be viewed as stateless by some and as a proto-state by others ( perhaps the latter are thinking in terms of unilineal evolution from savagery to state). In any case it is difficult to find a more densely populated(urbanized) group who are not state ridden. In my book, The State, I suggested that state development would be more unlikely in a complex society in which property, hierarchy, and an ideology supportive of these were not stressed.(p.92). A recent book, Ancient Middle Niger: Urbanism and the Self-Organizing Landscape by Roderick J. McIntosh, suggests statelessness in an urban setting. I however have found the book difficult to read.

My response to Harold Barclay

The oral traditions on the foundation of the league are inconsistent in a number of ways and vary from nation to nation, speaker to speaker—as might be expected. I think this is a point that Bonaparte makes very well with his “Living History”. Bonaparte even acknowledges that the study of Iroquois culture by anthropologists/ethnographers has likely had an effect on the oral tradition. He has a very funny quip about every modern traditionalist having a dog-eared copy of Arthur Parker’s work.

To me, what was not so fascinating was not so much whether Tekanawí:ta was of a virgin birth, came across the lake on a stone canoe, or that he combed the serpents from the sorcerer Thatotáhrho’s hair. Rather it was the political metaphors that are shared across the confederation. This seems to be consistent and also corresponds with the historical record. While it would be nice to have several historical records about the formation of the Rotinonshón:ni, we can only go on oral tradition, historical transcription of earlier oral tradition, archeology and some linguistics to get an idea. Among the many controversies about the formation of the Rotinonshón:ni is when it happened. That’s a debate I didn’t address in my article, for this article it was more important that it did happen and before large degree (if any) of European contact.

Also, I think it is also interesting in terms of the modern Rotinonshón:ni, to look at what narrative they use today, and what meaning that has; regardless of the actual events some 400–1000 years ago.

I agree with your comments on population density. The population density estimate I used was Daniel Richter’s from Ordeal of the Longhouse. If I had space in the article, I would have liked to have liked to have gone into more detail about their economy, and how extensive their use of the land was. I would have preferred to have listed population estimates from pre-contact; but that is quite difficult do the their periodic village relocations, their reliance on wooden architecture, and that population estimates during the colonial period are based on the estimated number of warriors and that is after those communities were devastated by diseases of European orgin and warfare. There are high counters and low counters in terms of population. The number of people living in a particular Iroquois town, however, was a more solid estimate. I also would have preferred to have had estimates on the quantity of agricultural production before the small pox and the Beaver Wars, but I haven’t seen anything as solid as the historical estimates made during the Sullivan campaign almost two hundreds years after contact.

You make an excellent point about mother’s brothers and something I would like to explore further. The roiá:ner (sachem) were selected by the iakoiá:ner (clan mothers) from their matrilineal line (their brothers, uncles and sons). The exact role of husbands seems very murky to me except that society was matrilocal. Among the other requirements for Roiá:ner was that they were to have been fathers. So how would this work? A wolf clan brother who would then marry into the bear clan, have children with his bear clan wife, but then could later be chosen as a wolf clan roiá:ner while still living in the bear clan long house?

Given the different modes of food production and the segregation of duties by gender, it seems that men would often spend many months away from the towns in villages—engaged in fishing, hunting, trapping, trade, diplomacy and warfare. Among the customs of cohabitation were husbands and wives sleeping on opposite sides of the fire from each other, and sleeping feet to feet rather than side by side. If you are interested in some of the psychology around the Iroquois traditional culture... I found Anthony F.C. Wallace’s The Death and Rebirth of the Seneca to be very informative.

The matrilocal residency was probably disrupted by disease, war and mass adoptions. With as many as 2/3rds of the community being adoptees in many cases. This would have been an aberration in the traditional culture. The european born diseases and changes in warfare would have been an unprecedented calamity to Iroquois society. I think it is very notable about how well that culture was able to survive with even a remnant of their traditional polity, to have blocked French expansion and held their own in the face of English colonization for so long.

Also, the matrilocal situation was disrupted first by conversion to Christianity, and later Handsome Lake’s religious teachings that emphasized patrilocal living and the husband-wife bond over the matrilineal clan. There was also a change in living arrangements from the colonial period from long houses to single family cabins.

On your point concerning anarchism and contemporary state structures of elected chiefs and councils among indigenous communities; I’m sure it might cause some embarrassment to some statists. While I cautiously avoided addressing the contemporary political situation among the Iroquois, this tension between statists and anti-statists (and positions in between) is very much part of the political discourse, though the terms they use are sometimes different. Something for them to figure out. As someone with anarchist (or at least libertarian socialist) sensibilities... I find the traditional polity of the Iroquois fascinating and... close enough—it’s as good an example of a way of living as any others that anarchists point to. Though one could argue that the break down in their consensual politics lead to a lack of unity and their division and fragmentation due to the U.S., British and Canadian governments.

I was actually fairly careful in having contemporary Iroquois like Taiaiake Alfred make that connection between the traditional polity and anarchism; as well as having folks like Teiowí:sonte Thomas Deer explicitly reject it. However, I suspect that Teiowí:sonte is far more sympathetic to an anti-authoritarian socialism than that quotation reveals. I imagine someone like Ray Halbritter, the National Representative of the Onedia Nation and Chief Executive Officer of Oneida Nation Enterprises, will just flat out reject such an idea. If my article generates any discussion among Iroquois about such things, I’ll regard that as a welcome but unintended consequence. I saw my article as an anarchists examination of the traditional Iroquois polity, not a polemic for neo-traditionalist Iroquois to adopt anarchism as an ideology.

I actually haven’t read your book The State yet. Only People without Government and Culture and Anarchism. I see it was just published in 2003, so that’s definitely going on my list. Right now, I’m wading through Pierre Clastres’ Society Against the State, but I find the language a bit difficult and I also lack the academic background in anthropology and philosophy. I think I’ll try your book before I tackle McIntosh.

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opalescence-wolph · 2 months ago

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Greetings everyone here on Tumblr. My name is Opalescence Wolph, but you may call me Opal if you so desire. I am a...tragically cursed angel who was forced to fall due to said curse. I will not be disclosing who cursed me as I do not wish to talk about it.

Ahem...little about me: I was a kaiju slayer in my youth...well, technically I'm still young given I died when I was 20 and that happened 4 years ago now so I am now 24. Yes, I am technically dead, tragic I know.

I go by he/him pronouns and I am bisexual

'Tags':

Posts: messenger scrolls

Reblogs: angel blessings

Favorites: wing feathers

Interactions with other 'RP' blogs: benevolent spirits

Interactions with Popcross fans: dove wings

Answers to 'Asks': angel's wisdom

[OOC tags: ooc posts, popcross rp, mvt rp, rp blog]

I was informed that there are blogs similar to my own that I will try to list out, if I miss anyone by mistake, please notify me. Ahem...

Professor Dresden Oakland @prof-d-oakland

Sir Jackson Bright @sir-bright

Their son Samuel Sparks...or Bright? Oakland? @thelaststarstriker

Samuel's boyfriend Jackie Blaze @rockandfire

Charlie the Biomech @charlie-the-biomech

Ylthar the dragon overseer @yltharthedragon

Harold the Herald...quite the interesting title @stickyhandscowboy

Alexis Jones the Reaper @thenewreaper

The last survivor of dimension B133 Dilwyn...does he have a last name? @dilwynlives

Clayton Costas the demon hunter @beefyglowstick

Jasper Morgan the cowboy @foundations-cowboy

His boss James Aaron Siegel @founders-faith

And...quite a few "archons" as they're called

Eldrorrok the horror archon @eldrorrok

Fantorrel the fantasy archon @fantorreli

Psychoperdelicth the psychological thriller archon who is...apparently dead? @psychoperdelicth

And apparently the child of Romillacect the romance archon is on here, her daughter Amara @amarathemoth

I believe that is everyone but let me know if I missed anyone...my my, there's a lot of people to keep track of on this site.

Anyways, feel free to ask me any questions, and I'll answer them as honestly as possible. Thank you reading, and have a good day or night

#mvt rp #popcross rp #messenger scrolls #introduction post

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nyskateboarding · 3 years ago

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Harold Hunter Weekend 14 Schedule Announced (2021)

Harold Hunter Weekend – NYC’s biggest annual skate event returns this year presented by DC Shoes. View the full schedule of events below.

View On WordPress

#DC Shoes #Harold Hunter Foundation #Harold Hunter Weekend

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pansyinchains · 3 years ago

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harold hunter day

#new york #nyc #skateboarding #harold hunter #harold hunter day #harold hunter foundation #lower east side

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bobbydigital407 · 4 years ago

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#HUF #HUF Worldwide #Harold Hunter #Harold Hunter Foundation

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brujas-nyc · 7 years ago

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BRUJAS WOODWARD 2K17 EDIT [ 4 Harold ]

#brujas skate #skate brujas #brujas #arianna gil #orlando gil #harold hunter #harold hunter foundation #legends never die #mobb deep #lofty 305

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kicksaddictny · 3 years ago

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HUF x Harold Hunter Foundation capsule

The Harold legacy continues with this year’s HUF x Harold Hunter Foundation capsule, finding inspiration from Harold’s larger than life personality and featuring an iconic HH image shot by Ari Marcopoulos. The three-piece capsule comes finished with a “Legends Never Die” graphic made up of lettering from heritage NYC institutions and is set to release this Thursday, September 9th , 2021.

Formed in Harold’s memory in 2007, the Harold Hunter Foundation (HHF) is a non-profit, grassroots, skateboard community-based organization that provides support, opportunity, and advocacy for skateboarders in NYC and beyond, so they can reach their full potential as skateboarders and as people.

The HUF x HHF collection releases Thursday, September 9th on www.hufworldwide.com, HUF flagship stores, and select retailers.

#huf #collection #kicksaddict #clothing

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nightmare-grass · 5 years ago

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So I’m officially Spidersona trash

Here I have compiled the main characters, their abilities and personalities, and their relationships within the story I am currently working on and have been working on ever since the Spidersona movement of 2018.

1. My personal OC

- Name: Nora Weaver

- Age: 19

- Alias: Jumper

- Based on the Bold Jumping Spider

- Quirky, inventive, sneaky, caring, impatient, smart, and kinda egotistical

- Saw the Prowler fighting Prism on tv one time and thought, ‘hey, those rocket-boot things are pretty cool’

- Later on she made her own rocket boots for a college science fair (it’s a high school science fair, tbh, but colleges scout for talented students to give scholarships to), she promotes them as footwear for rescue efforts and stuff like that

- At this science fair another kid was doing experiments on spiders and one escaped and bit Nora, giving her spider powers

- Since Nora’s thing is mechanics, she got her more chemistry-inclined older sister to help make her web fluid

- Sister’s name is Amelia

- She eventually designed her own suit and was from then on known as Jumper

- Only her sister knows her true identity

- She has arachnophobia (coincidentally)

- She’s adopted and it turns out her biological father is Dr. Octopus

- Her birth mother is a woman named Mary Alice Anders (Otto and Mary split up in Otto’s tragic villain backstory)

- She gets scrap and parts from an auto body shop and the son of the guy who owns the shop is really cute and Nora has a crush on him. His name is Dominic Mazzetti.

- One humid summer day Nora drops down in an alley in her spider suit and peels the spandex off to sit at her waist, having been wearing a tank top underneath, in order to cool off. She realizes too late that she’s right next to the auto body shop when Dominic comes around the corner, looking to take a shortcut, and sees her. She webs him up, jumps onto the rooftop with him, and starts freaking out, but she makes him promise not to tell anyone her secret. From then on they work together more closely.

- Gwen Stacy is kind of the designated bully, seeing her as a rival for good grades, so she mockingly call her “Snora” since Nora falls asleep in class quite a bit due to her hero work

- Eventually Gwen and Nora become friends

- Nemesis: Doctor Octopus

- Recurring Villain: Screwball

“Alright, lets start at the beginning one last time. My name is Nora Weaver. I built some rocket boots, was bitten by a radioactive spider, and for the last year and a half I’ve been one of a few spider-themed heroes in my city. I call myself Jumper. I’m pretty sure you can figure out the rest. I saved some people, joined a spider hero team, graduated, started college, nearly dropped out, and now I’m in the process of saving the city again. By the way, I was in the middle of that. Catch ya later!”

2. Peter Parker Gender-bend

- Name: Penelope Parker

- Age: 18

- Alias: Ladybird

- Based on the Ladybug Mimic Spider

- She was the one with the spider science project

- when one of her spiders bit her, it momentarily distracted her and she let two more escape, one biting Nora, another biting Skylar

- Wears glasses

- When they get to community college Penelope meets Harry Osborn and after a while of being friends they start dating. This will not end well.

- Nemesis: Green Goblin

- Recurring Villain: Black Cat

“Alrighty then! I guess we can start at the beginning one more time. My name is Penelope Parker, and for the past year and a half I’ve been the hero known as Ladybird. I was experimenting with some spiders and radioactive elements when three of them got out and bit me and two of my now best friends, and so we decided to form a superhero team. I figure you know the rest; we saved the city, started college, I got an internship that ended up being a trap, my aunt May died, and now we’re trying to save the city again. Yeah, it hasn’t been great.”

“AGH, Harry is such a dreamboat!” Penelope twirled around gaily and flopped onto her bed with a sigh. “I don’t deserve him,” she murmured with a smile.

Nora rolled her eyes. “Of course you deserve him, Pen! In my eyes, you deserve the world,” Nora said matter-of-factly.

3. OC

- Name: Skylar Tran

- Age: 19

- Alias: Spider-Shine

- Based on the Mirror Spider

- Non-binary, they/them pronouns

- Black hair dyed blue

- Filipino

- Reflective/shiny skin (yes, like the Twilight vamps, get over it)

- Cocky, flamboyant, funny, millennial humor, depressed but doesn’t wanna show it, being a superhero gives them something to live for

- Has scars from depression on their arms

- Very much an anime fan

- Starts out as a “Hero for Hire” where they got paid for rescuing people but quit that as soon as they found out about Tombstone and how he scares the people of NYC into paying him so he doesn’t let worse things happen to them

- Nemesis: Tombstone

- Recurring Villain: The Tinkerer

4. Symbiotesona

- Name: Amber Herald

- Age: 31

- Alias: Prism

- Symbiote

- Bonded with Prism when she was 23 and working for the Life Foundation

- They’re lesbians, Harold.

- Prism’s thing is light refraction, so she can turn invisible

- She’s an established hero when the three newbies get bit

- Their origin story is kinda like the Venom movie except they don’t take down a big bad corporation or stop an alien invasion

- Prism is a forced spawn of Venom

- Life Foundation captured Venom to make more Symbiotes but Prism was one of the few Symbiotes that escaped with a host

- Dreamcasting Idina Menzel as Amber

- Nemesis: Any evil Symbiotes that happen to pop up.

- Recurring Villains: Prowler and Kraven the Hunter

Side Characters

1. Harry Osborn

- Son of Norman Osborn

- Has a degenerative disease that Norman tries to fix with experimental science

- Goes mad, becomes Green Goblin

- Before he’s the Goblin, he and Penelope start dating

2. Gwen Stacy

- daughter of Police Captain, George Stacy

- Gifted in biochemistry

- Wants to become a forensic scientist for the NYPD, following in the footsteps of her father but in her own way

- On weekends she is the drummer for MJ’s band

- Sees Nora and Penelope as her academic rivals and sometimes bullies them

- Loves music

- Is a lesbian and has a crush on MJ but she’s still in the closet

- If I ever want to make her into Spider-Gwen, I could kill off Amber and have Prism bond with Gwen

3. Mary Jane “MJ” Watson

- Intern/reporter for the Daily Bugle

- Sometimes self-absorbed, mostly self-assured and witty

- Has a band called The Mary Janes where she’s the lead singer and lead guitarist

- Keyboard player is Glory Grant

- Drummer is Gwen Stacy

- She’s bisexual and she has a crush on Gwen

- With her hot temper and Gwen’s bull headed stubbornness, they have quite a few disagreements

4. Felicia Hardy

- becomes Black Cat, an antihero

- Her dad used to develop tech for Oscorp when he was found “stealing” some of the tech he worked on and was laid off

- Her dad used the tech he’d developed to aid him in cat burglary because he couldn’t find a job and had to support he and his daughter but he was caught stealing from one of Kingpin’s businesses

- Felicia used her dad’s tech to steal enough money to pay for his bail but kept stealing afterward

- Takes up a Robin Hood-like role where she steals from rich assholes like Kingpin and Norman Osborn and gives back to the homeless of NYC

- She’s really quiet as a civilian, almost unnerving, but that’s because she spends all day coming up with cat-related quips and catchphrases to use when she goes out as Black Cat

5. Screwball

- I want to add more to her character, really dig deep and find the person behind the vlogger/criminal nut job

- Her crimes are just stunts and dangerous pranks on important figures

- She live-streams every crime

- Started off with a prank channel on YouTube but when she started drawing the attention of Jumper and the bunch for her dangerous stunts, her videos started to get more views, so she just scaled up her pranks to draw the attention of the heroes even more

- Expert Gymnast and Media Influencer

- Some of her fans are so rabid for her that they’ll commit murder at her slightest suggestion

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thiswaycomessomethingwicked · 5 years ago

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"😓A misunderstood character is ostracized, perhaps even threatened, for their peculiar habits, interests, or studies" - this is gonna be v specific but like.... Drabble where vetinari and downey giggle about people gossiping about vetinari being a vampire? Perhaps? Pls?

Thank you so much for the ask! i’m not sure if this is quite what you were hoping for, but I hope you enjoy.

Midnight and Downey hears clicking so he’s half-awake, then fully awake and thinking there’s someone in the room with him. He can’t see them but knows a presence when it is felt, only: he can’t move. The clicking increases, an insect-noise, as something prowls near his head and he does not wish to look over but does, because he can’t help it, and there sits a monstrous creature poised with stinger above his face and the weight on his chest holding him down reminds him of that one poor man accused of witchcraft, or was it being vampire?, all those hundreds of years ago who was pressed to death in the main square. The rocks they put on his chest were later used to build the base of the Brass Bridge. When you walk over them you walk over his ghost.

And now Downey is awake. Awake and sitting upright, which means he can move, but he’s still seeing the insect so there remains whispers of the dream. It is a dream, he reminds himself, because he has had such before and, more importantly, he knows all the insects on the Disc and the one he imagined next to him is not one of them. If he is going to go and discover a new species it won’t be whilst half-asleep in the middle of the city.

He rubs eyes, looks to pillow beside him and finds it empty.

Sinking back into bed he pulls the eiderdown up around his head and burrows in an attempt to reclaim even a shred of disturbed sleep.

But it’s gone. His mind is already going fast-fast-fast there are so many things he must do as Term moves into exam season and holiday festivities must be planned and budgeted for and rooms prepped for new students joining them for Winter term after Hogswatch. Then there’s City Council matters and Guild matters and three jobs lined up, hasn’t he already decided he’s too busy, tired and old for this?, and then there’s the never ending social calendar. Which he enjoys. But, it can be a bit much.

Bedroom silence is as maddening as his racing mind. He’s staring at the thin pool of moonlight on the floor. It’s autumn, so skies are a perpetual grey with only a weak sun to splash watery gold and pink across horizon at morning and evening. The grey continues into the night obscuring stars. So everything is a shadow of its summertime self.

He is restless. His nerves are up. He has spooked himself and remains half-convinced there’s someone in the room with him. The presence, he repeats to himself, was the dream and the dream was made of stress.

He rolls around for a bit. Then, out of a sense of paranoia, he retrieves a blade from between mattress and headboard, and prowls about his room but finds nothing and neither do Alsace nor Harold. He ought to be content if not pleased.

Fear is an anathema to him. One of the first rules of performing assassin is knowing that you are the most dangerous thing that walks the streets. And if you don’t know it in yourself, for certain, then at least exude it to others. Smoke and mirrors &tc.

One autumn, as a boy of seven, he developed a deep fear of vampires. They can turn into mist, slide into bedrooms through keyholes and hide under the bed or in the closet. They drink your blood and make you one of them whether you wish it or not.

The fear left him as he grew up. At first, because he learned how to kill them. Then, later, he met a few, became friends or an approximation of friends, with a few. Olivia Hunter, one example, said, it’s being damned for a sin you’ve no part in. People look and say ‘We know your kind’ when they know nothing of anything. What is my kind? Genuan? Black? Woman? Secretary? Vampire? Omnian?

And that’s a sentiment he understands, was raised to understand, for his grandmother would talk about the bad old days in Brindisi when she was a girl and they had to leave, which happens sometimes, because people decide they know your kind and whatever it is, it’s unwanted.

He dresses. Alsace and Harold become very excited at this sudden change in events. As always, he takes a circuitous route through the city to the palace. He weaves through alleys, up and down stairs and closes, trots this way and that across streets. For a time, he loiters on the Brass Bridge and peers at different stones. The foundation stone’s date has worn away with time so when you trace fingers over it there is only the merest indentation. Was this the stone that finally killed that man all those years ago? He’s never seen a witch stoning and has no desire to. There are some violences and brutalities that go too far.

The palace is shades of moth-wing grey. Downey slips in between shadows and up to the patrician’s bedroom where, as expected, Vetinari is up. The man is seated at his desk half-dressed with robe wrapped around him and a blanket over shoulders.

‘Have you considered a brazier?’ Downey asks upon entrance. Vetinari flicks a look at him. ‘It would help with your consistent lack of heating.’

‘I am quite content, Downey. If the temperature was comfortable people might wish to stay.’

Downey feigns offence. He drapes himself across the bed and stares up at canopy. Alsace and Harold make themselves at home by the meager fire next to Mr. Fusspot who remains unphased by the sudden presence of dogs easily three times his size. He snores on in peaceful slumber.

‘May I be of assistance?’ Vetinari’s voice drifts over coupled with the ruffle of paper.

‘Oh no, you’re fine.’

‘Is there a reason you’re here?’

‘Must there always be a motive for my coming? I had a desire to be mildly chilled and to stare up at your canopy.’

Vetinari makes a noise, a scoff or snort. Downey smiles at the fabric above him.

‘We didn’t have plans,’ Vetinari says, quietly, to himself and his desk. Downey does not respond. Vetinari’s penchant for exact order crops up time to time. They are both men with strong affinity for order, but applied in very different areas of their lives.

Downey orders butterflies and beetles and natural and manmade poisons. He also orders accounts, aligns the debit-credit column of the guild, his wardrobe, his drinks cabinet. He does not order his personal life. He doesn’t need to, Vetinari orders it for him.

‘You know,’ Downey drawls as a thought occurs. ‘Your desire to have cold rooms and no creature comforts is probably why people think you’re a vampire.’

A cough from the direction of the window.

Downey props himself up and looks over. ‘Tolerant of extreme temperatures? Lack of expected, human reactions to circumstances? Patience of a rock? Never seen sleeping?’

‘You have seen me sleep.’ A lofty, disinterested expression, ‘and you can attest to my ability to react appropriately in certain, ah, circumstances.’

It’s a lascivious grin on Downey’s face. Vetinari tells him that he is being lewd. Downey replies that he is not being lewd at all. Vetinari says, ‘very well, your face is making lewd insinuations.’ Downey begs his pardon with great animation, delighting in the other man’s long suffering sigh. He delights in most things Vetinari does, including his more obsessive ticks. It’s a pleasure to know there’s someone who won’t judge you for talking to your plants and will understand the extreme stress of holding one’s tongue when someone is wrong about biology in public. Which happens with great regularity.

A huff, Vetinari decants from his desk to the bed where Downey, who has pried boots off and deposited cloak, scarf, hat, gloves, frock, and so on, on the floor, happily scoots beneath covers.

‘And you have very cold hands,’ Downey continues.

Vetinari snorts, ‘the people of this great city really have nothing better to do than speculate upon my supposed inhumanity?’

‘I think it’s an improvement over their wildly inaccurate speculations about your manhood.’

Vetinari’s face is a portrait. Downey kisses it.

He continues, ‘I would correct them, of course. But that would cause more grief than it’s worth. Now, you as a vampire on the other hand, I can see their reasoning.’

‘I’ve eaten food in public. I drink…wine.’

Downey snorts, ‘Mr. Warrender at the Cloak and Dagger believes it all to be an elaborate ruse.’

‘I see,’

‘He was going on about this the other night,’ Downey begins plucking at Vetinari’s robe which he considers an affront as it is another layer of clothing to take off. ‘I think he managed to make a few converts to his cause. He says that he’s never seen you handle coin before therefore you’re avoiding silver. You don’t attend religious ceremonies because of holy ground. Your robe is annoying me deeply. And you rarely go out, uncovered, in daylight due to discomfort in the sun.’

‘I’m not sure Mr. Warrender would have any opinion on my robe. Downey, I’m quite busy tonight.’

‘Yes, I’m here now. Your metaphorical dance card is full for the remainder of the evening.’

Vetinari stares. Downey stares back. Vetinari opens his mouth to reply, apparently reconsiders it, and sighs. Downey kisses him again as it seems the right course of action.

Downey rolls Vetinari over to his back, snaking a hand beneath robe, down, pulling up nightshift beneath. Vetinari liftst hips to allow the clothes to be hitched up, ‘why are you here, Downey?’

Downey raises an eyebrow. Looks down at their bodies then back up.

‘That’s not why you’re here. This is a symptom, not the cause.’

‘I dislike that. Being associated with disease isn’t something I enjoy, but I’ll save my annoyance for tomorrow. I was awake and restless.’

‘Right.’ A beat. ‘My apologies.’

‘Thank you,’ Downey hums. He cannot think how to explain: I had a dream and spooked myself. So he chooses not to. He continues with vague answers and determined exploration of Vetinari’s body, a boney, you’re-a-bit-of-a-shut-in sort of experience. Being opposites in most regards, Vetinari has nothing spare, all strung together with skin and only the amount of muscle needed to operate a body compared to Downey’s more, as he puts it to himself, comfortable, frame.

As teenagers, therefore posturing with great energy and determination, Vetinari once said: I’m an aesthete. Downey hadn’t been entirely sure what an aesthete was so made some general scag-dog-botherer related insult and went off to ask Ludo what it meant. Ludo explained asceticism with a wry expression. Downey then spent the remainder of the day mocking Vetinari for being a nerdy prat.

Downey thinks that to be fair to sixteen-year-old Vetinari the young man hadn’t been wrong. He was, and is, very much an aesthete. But, Downey adds on, he was also a nerdy prat.

Not that he, himself, was a joy and pleasure to be around at that age. Eleven to five-and-twenty, he thinks, those are terrible years where no one is at their best.

Vetinari scoops an arm around Downey’s neck and leans up, pressing their mouths together. ‘Would you still be here if I was a vampire?’

‘Yes. Though, there’d be very strict boundaries.’

‘Naturally.’

‘’I’ve no desire for immortality. The one thing I wonder is,’ Downey settles on his side. ‘Would you still be you if you were one? It’s a rude question so I haven’t asked anyone I know.’

Vetinari shrugs. How does never dying change a person? How does not tasting, not needing sleep, not bodily changing, shape an individual? Would that change be any different from the normal changes all people go through as life forms them forever into something new?

Neither choose to answer the questions. Downey figures they were rhetorical more than anything. But even if they weren’t, he has no answer. He likes his humanity. He’s content with being merely mortal. There is a thrill to life that he thinks wouldn’t be there if you knew you weren’t going to die. Pleasures would lose their meaning. He likes luscious fox fur, richly patterned cambric, heavy brocades because he knows they are his but for a limited time. When he dies they’ll be of no use save to cover the body until it’s cremated. But doesn’t that limitation of enjoyment make it all the sweeter? There will be a finite end to champagne and oysters and music and dancing and gold and silver.

But as a vampire, at least with regards to the clothing and objects, you would have it forever. One fades, buy another.

Perhaps they find meaning in other things less worldly than clothes and beautiful things.

What a terrible concept.

‘You had a mistress who was one, didn’t you?’ Downey asks.

‘Mistress,’ Vetinari’s bemused by the word. ‘I wouldn’t go that far.’

‘What was her view?’

‘On how she was before? She didn’t speak of it much, but I think she takes the long view of things. So time is both fast and slow. She said that because relations with humans are so fleeting she found them more precious.’

Downey pulls a face. See, finding meaning in less worldly things. Vetinari flashes a smile, returns to his usual impassive self.

‘I don’t think it’s life that would suit you, Downey.’

‘I’d have to become philosophical, which is a horror. I would be required to place value in things other than material wealth. Absolutely terrible.’

Vetinari props himself up on an elbow and takes to considering Downey’s face with great intent. Downey looks away. He frets that Vetinari is going to say something about him being more than what he intends himself to be. Which Vetinari tends to do because he enjoys telling Downey home-truths.

Life delivers. Vetinari says, ‘I think you hold things beyond material wealth as important. A limited amount,’ he amends. ‘Perhaps a very limited amount. But nonetheless, they exist.’

This is too much, Downey can feel a flush crawling up his chest and neck so leans up, gives a messy kiss, then rolls over in search of his clothes. He says he should go back to the Guild. It’s late, he has much to do in the morning. Vetinari sits up and watches him dress. Downey swans about, makes it a bit of a theatrical moment, then the final flourish, he places his hat on.

‘I will see you tomorrow,’ Downey says.

‘You will. Or today, as the case may be. We are well into the small hours.’

At the door Downey pauses. Behind him is the sound of Vetinari dressing. The shift of linens, bare feet on soft, wooden floors.

‘I don’t think it would be a life that suits you either,’ Downey says to the doorframe. His palm rests flat against it, a profile to Vetinari’s line of sight.

‘Immortality, or vampirism in particular?’

‘Both.’ Or maybe, Downey doesn’t think, he wishes to believe that for his own sake. He doesn’t like to think of Vetinari going on, existing as some lonesome, grey rock in the midst of human life for any longer than he already has.

‘Possibly. Quite possibly you’re very right.’

Downey sucks in a breath through teeth then, because he enjoys hurdling head first off cliffs from time to time, ‘I’m glad things are working out, you know. Between us. Despite the fact that you’re a nerdy prat, Dog-botherer.’

He’s gone before Vetinari can reply though he imagines he heard a soft exhale of a laugh. One of those dry ones Vetinari gives when amused but feeling many things at the same time. It’s a ghost of a sound and follows Downey through streets homeward. He wishes to remember it forever.

#lord downey #vetinari #writing #ask #reply #gothic prompt

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