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#I think this is from the Batman novel Fear Itself
lisaplant4 · 1 year
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"Fear, you must understand, is more than an obstacle. Fear is a teacher, the first one you ever had. It’s hard-wired into our brains, part of our chemical make-up like the sensation of pain and the urge to procreate. It is foolish to dismiss fear as a mere emotion, or, worse yet, as an uncontrolled and transitory reflex. Fear is a religion. Not the one we preach – the one about the Golden Rule – but the one we live, day-to-day, dollar-to-dollar. The unspoken conviction that there’s not enough of anything in this world, and that no one’s got your back. The utter moral certainty that you’ve got no choice but to watch out for numero uno, because it’s a dog-eat-dog world out there, and only the fittest survive. Fear of starvation is what first prompted you to smile at your mother. Fear of social ostracism is what first made you desperate to please your father. Humans are gregarious, group-orientated animals by nature. Instinctively, we know that we cannot survive on our own. More than anything, we fear isolation and social exclusion. Fear of failure, you see, is fear of social embarrassment – you might get laughed at. But fear of success is fear of social ascendancy – you might be perceived as a threat and expelled from your group. None of this is conscious, of course. We don’t wake up thinking about these things, or discuss them at dinner parties. But we know the fear in our guts, all of us. And, oh, how these times embrace it! Today our government feeds us on fear. It’s our national diet. Cereal and a spoonful of fear! Beer and a fear chaser! Hamburger with an order of super sized fear on the side! And really, why shouldn’t we be afraid? In case you haven’t heard, life is terminal. Cigarettes will kill you. So will your cell phone. Your microwave, the power lines, the squirming germs that raw meat leaves behind on your kitchen counter and the chemical cleansers you neutralize them with... All potentially lethal. Your car is a deadly weapon, alcohol a quiet killer. Too much fat, too much sugar, too much exercise or not enough... Don’t lick the lead-based paint on your windowsills, don’t lick the back of that postage stamp, and don’t lick any strangers, oh, that can take you down quickly, indeed! Don’t drink the water and don’t drink less than eight glasses a day. Hold your breath in traffic, off-gas your furniture, stock up on duct-tape! Don’t talk to strangers, and if you’re female, don’t go home – you’re more likely to be a victim of domestic violence than of burglary, mugging, or any other type of physical assault combined. Your environment is toxic, your natural resources are dwindling, your days are numbered, but whatever you do, don’t panic! The stress, don’t you know, will kill ya.” – Professor Jonathan Crane AKA Scarecrow.
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j0kers-light · 1 year
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His Lighthouse: Push and Pull (LedgerJoker x f!reader)
Push and Pull
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series summary:  
Y/n is an aspiring writer living in Gotham City and struggling to find her next muse. Her recent novel is getting all the buzz, earning her far more attention than she signed up for. But when a chance encounter results in her nursing The Joker back to health, will she find the time to write another best seller or will her own story become front page of the Gotham Gazette?
chapter summary:
With the official girl’s night over Y/n finds herself in unknown territory with a low social battery. As night’s events are revealed how will Joker talk himself out of this one?
author’s note:
The level of research I had to put in for this update was. Phew! If you wanna know the exact jet used here, it’s a Learjet 45. I even listened to airport tower communications and mapped out the flight plan like an idiot. And what for? Just because. If you want to know the exact house Y/n and Joker stays at.. well! Zillow to the rescue! Link in the story below! 
I want to thank everyone who sent out messages and words of encouragement when I was struggling with my writer’s block. I feel so much better and I hope you enjoy the chapter. It’s an important one. Think of it as the calm before the storm.
Taglist!
@blackreaderatrisk   @twinkledinkle @clemdango04 @l3ejm @tears-of-amber @what-an-angell @kaidennnnn @darthjokerisyourfather @thatsnoteii @dollster @cheetahspy​
Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!  
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The room was calm despite the tense situation. The hour was growing later by the minute but no clues had presented itself towards their goal.
Jim thought the entire interaction was pointless but if Batman was entertaining the Clown's story, who was he to voice an opinion? They had already let Joker out of the straightjacket he wore so he could drink properly.
Probably not the best idea since any more freedom would be an open invitation for Joker to escape the precinct altogether. Give him an inch, he'll take a mile however this version of Joker was definitely off kilter and could care less.
Everything about today wasn't normal but Jim decided to keep quiet and wait things out. Maybe Batman saw something in between the lines of Joker's elaborate story.
Their main concern was for the mysterious girl captured in the blurry Polaroid, yet the longer Joker talked, it seemed she was beyond saving.
For what sane girl would willingly let Joker into her home and bed? It didn't make any sense how this woman went from fearing Joker in her own home to having public sex with him in a span of weeks. It was obvious that Joker was omitting pertinent information since the course of events were too spaced out but if it were true, that was even more concerning. At this point he was bragging or worse, wasting everyone's time to bid him enough to escape.
Either way, nothing was gained during this lengthy tell all and her whereabouts were still unknown.
Jim looked up hearing the cowl's modified voice speak. "I don't believe this."
Batman always kept a levelheaded no matter how dicey the situation but even his world renown patience had worn thin. He looked ready to resort to violence to get the answers he sought if not for Joker's exaggerated sigh echoing out in the interrogation room.
Joker was ready for all of this to end. "...and why... not?" He sighed.
"You? Capable of love? Don't fool yourself."
That quip made Joker sit up in his chair. Batsy never took things face value. It was all so tiresome.
"Whyyy is it so hard for you to believe that? Is it because you haven't experienced the emotion yourself? Oh and how could you? Not too many girls can handle the late nights and endless secrets. Trust meee. I know. At first I didn't ~believe~ either until my Light came along and made me see. Her sweet smile and infinite warmth washed over me and I..."
Joker stopped short and smiled to himself, scaring almost everyone watching the live feed. It wasn't his normal jester-like grin. This smile was genuine. Forlorn. Remorseful, but it was gone before anyone could study it further.
Jade eyes flickered back to their sworn enemy. "I fought soooo hard but I learned to accept it. To accept her. To uh.. trust.. and fall."
Gordon scoffed in the corner. He had been quiet for so long Joker almost forgot he was in the room. Almost.
"Fall where? Into madness? Or maybe into another vat of chemicals?" Jim teased. Hearing a nutjob like Joker ramble on about love was disturbing.
"RighT... into her arms. Loving her is the best decision I've ever made. She's perfect."
"If she's still alive, why won't you tell us where she is?" Gordon shouted. He was letting his emotions and lack of sleep get the better of him.
It's what they wanted to know all day. When booking found that picture on Joker, the clock started ticking. She could already be dead but closure would do her family some good– but if she were still alive? Then she was a treasure trove of knowledge. She could answer the age old question as to who the man behind the makeup was.
And Joker knew that. His enemies knew that too which ultimately made you a target and his greatest weakness. It was one of the reasons he turned himself in; to save you. He would always protect you even if the outcome broke your heart. He was protecting you now by only telling them necessary bits and pieces to keep this charade going.
Like Joker would ever tell them who you are. If Batsy and Commissioner Mustache wanted to know your identity so badly, they better find out elsewhere.
He was doing his best at retelling the last few months spent with you using a pseudonym but he was running out of vague stories. Everything after the trip to Atlanta was personal accounts that couldn't be fabricated no matter how much he twisted the truth to keep you anonymous.
They would know who you were if he continued. So he had to get crafty. Batman was playing checkers; Joker was playing chess. He just needed a little more time..
"Aht aht ahttt, Commissioner. If you're following along then you should have an idea by now. Anyways. Where was I?"
"Euphoria." Batman's raspy voice mentioned.
Joker spun around and grinned at his bestie. "See! Someone's keeping track around here! Hmm.. Euphoria. I got her into some trouble that weekend.."
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The sunlight peeking through the open curtains roused you awake.
You grumbled and tried rolling over but the sheets were too entangled around your body for you to complete the motion. It made you feel trapped and you shot up wide awake to escape its clutches.
You looked down at crisp white hotel sheets holding your body hostage. They were the least of your concerns. You began to question where you were. The last thing you could remember was the finance office at the club, not a lavish hotel room with a missing lover. That part wasn't concerning. Joker never woke up in bed with you. It was a habit you were learning to accept. He left you alone more times than you'd care to admit.
Not knowing your surroundings was the bigger issue here. The foreign room was spacious and stylish, unlike any hotel you've ever seen, granted you rarely stayed at any.
This one had hardwood floors and it honestly looked more like a luxury apartment than a hotel. Past the big windows a breathtaking view stole your attention. The view of Midtown Atlanta was fast paced even this early in the day but nothing like Gotham.
The noise level was vastly different.
You set about to explore the place but quickly noticed you were naked. You remembered Joker cut your dress last night and it sparked a thought; what did you wear out of the club to get here. The possibilities had you rolling your e/c eyes.
Right as you were about to leave the bed, you heard a low beep and a door closing somewhere in the suite.
Even though you were in a completely different city your hackles raised, assuming the worst. You couldn't find anything to use as a weapon but braced yourself to fight should someone try and kidnap you again.
When Florence strolled through the doorway wearing a white hotel robe you relaxed but not for long. She looked like a woman on a mission and you were her sole target.
"Okay hear me out!" She began, "I know I got drunkity drunk last night and did some very.. very questionable things—" Flo shuddered, as if remembering whatever deplorable acts she did all over again. "I know what I saw!"
You weren't surprised by her drunk morning after regret, however her words made your anxiety skyrocket. "W-Which is?" You tried to stay calm and discreetly cover yourself to no avail.
Hungover Florence was just as perceptive as sober Flo. She immediately noticed your lack of attire and it only fueled her ire.
"I saw you creep up those stairs last night, Y/n! Neo told me there's only some office n' seedy sex rooms up there. So tell me what's good? Wait, wrong question. Was he good?"
You went pale like a ghost. "WHAT kind of rooms?"
"Stop deflecting whore." She clapped her hands after each word and immediately regretted it the moment her head began to pound worse.
She whined when you raised your voice. "You can't drop sex rooms in a conversation and not expect me to react! I-I got lost and... an employee guided me out after the club closed."
These little white lies have got to stop, Y/n. Your angel on your shoulder whispered.
You'd debate with your subconscious later. Right now you had to deal with an angry Florence.
"Bull__t. Then how you end up naked in a hotel room if you just 'got lost'?"
The devil on your other shoulder snickered. Good question, I'd like to know too. "I uh..."
Florence massaged her temples, sighing. "Ohhh my god. Just admit you had sex with someone! Was it that waiter from earlier?" Your entire body froze thinking she somehow remembered Joker.
"Listen, he was cute, but why isn't he here providing aftercare and s__t? Pause. You've been acting real sus lately. Red and I have been patient trying to deal with your weird behavior but this?" She waved her long acrylic nails at you. "This is totally unlike you."
You filed her comment about Joker being cute away for another day. She was opening up a can of worms that should've been left alone.
"Ohh okay so I'm not allowed to be flown out and dicked down by random men?" It took her a minute to get the insult but when she did, Flo blinked rapidly and scoffed.
"Neo isn't some random guy, Y/n!"
"You're right, my bad. He's a 'client.' You braid his hair a few times and suddenly you know him! C'mon Flo. You're trying to scold me but all I see is the pot trying to scorn the kettle!"
You don't know where this argument came from but you refused to back down and apologize. She could do anything with no judgment, but the moment you took a risk and had fun it was bad? Florence was a hypocrite if she didn't see how she was treating you right now.
Unfortunately she waved your speculations away like a pesky gnat.
"I'm built different! You're.. well you're you! You sit around the house and do boring s__t. I'm supposed to be the reckless and irresponsible one out of the group!"
Her reply rang loudly in the hotel room. You let her words fill the space before carefully choosing your own.
"So.. I'm not allowed to have fun?" You mumbled. You ducked your head, already starting to overthink things. Your mood bar automatically set itself to self-doubt.
Florence instantly sobered up. She cursed after realizing what she said.
"What? No. Wait! I mean.. ugh! Yes! Yes you're allowed to have fun, Y/n! It's just, not that kind of fun?" Flo's reply faded off into a question as she racked her brain for the right words. "What I'm trying to say is—"
Your eyes stung hearing the truth. Your dry, empty laugh cut her off.
"Hm, just like high school huh? Boring book nerd stuck being second best to her cheerleader friend. Glad to know things never change."
Florence cringed. "Y/n..."
Neo walked in with his annoying swagger and lofty demeanor; you were saved by the bell. He was dressed for the day despite it being bright and early. He quickly read the room. "Everything aight in here?"
Neither of you spoke. He noticed your teary eyes and somber mood and wisely took your side.
He didn't take his eyes off of you when he replied to Florence. "Ayyy Ma, I ordered room service. Go eat ya hangover away."
Flo being the independent woman she was spun around to protest; however, she was immediately shot down by Neo's hazel gaze.
You watched in awe as she backed down without further preamble. Florence always had the last word in an argument. Neo's gaze lingered on her as she left the room and eventually your suite. The door closed with a soft click leaving you alone with the 'club owner.'
If Florence was more sober, she never would have left you alone with him and she would've questioned how he got into your room without a key.
A shame you knew more about Neo than Florence ever would. He didn't need a key to come and go as he pleased. It wouldn't phase you if Joker owned the hotel behind the scenes. Your mind was already a storm of negative thoughts. You decided not to think about the finer details at present.
At least Neo kept his distance, sensing your sour mood. It was one less thing to worry about.
"You good.?" He asked.
"Like you care." You bit back. You yanked the sheets around you tighter. If he noticed he didn't comment on it.
"I don't– but I'd rather not have my neck snapped if Boss comes back and finds you crying and thinks I'm to blame." He made a valid point that dried your tears.
Joker wouldn't hesitate resorting to violence if you were in distress. No need to give him an excuse for murder. "Where is he by the way?" You changed the subject.
Neo chuckled and leaned against the grey dresser. "Damage control. Boss and Frost are out destroying any potential evidence of him being here last night. He is a wanted fugitive after all."
He didn't want to tell you the truth just yet until they came back with the all clear. Thankfully you didn't pry into it. It seemed like you had enough on your plate as is.
"I keep forgetting that. He makes it so easy to forget." You shifted on the bed causing Neo to respectfully look away when he saw a flash of bare skin.
Again, he didn't want to end up dead if Joker came back and assumed he was making a pass on you. It didn't help that Neo flirted with you the first time the two of you met.
Joker hadn't forgotten. The clown was hyper territorial over you, bordering on being yandere when it came to people eyeing his Bunny. They traveled nine hundred miles just because Joker was overprotective.
Frost tagged along to make sure Joker didn't start a killing spree simply because someone stared at you for too long. It turned into quite the daunting task after your racy performance with Florence. Too many people almost died trying to dance with you if Frost hadn't intervened.
Frost had enough of preventing blood on the dance floor after the nth person tried approaching you. He gave up and suggested that Joker just take you away. No murders to cover up and everyone had fun. Crisis averted.
Joker wanted to tease you a bit longer before heading back to the hotel but your friend showed up and thwarted his plans.
He forgot he wasn't supposed to be here when Neo called your group of friends up to the private lounge. Apparently this was Neo's original plans that he refused to cancel back at the laundromat. It all worked out with some... setbacks. Neo hoped it would be resolved quickly before it became an actual problem.
He returned to the present to toss a duffel bag on the bed that you failed to notice until now. You squeaked when it landed in your lap. He smiled at your icy glare and said nothing as you unzipped the compartment to look inside.
Much to your surprise, your favorite toiletries and a few other basic essentials were inside. "Where..."
Neo stood to leave. "You're welcome to join Florence for breakfast if you want. I won't force you after whatever happened here." He waved in general at the little spat you had with your Haitian friend. "She's on the twenty third floor. Room ten."
"Wait!" He stopped to raise an eyebrow at you. "What room am I in?" You asked.
He flicked the hotel keycard in your direction that he pickpocketed from Florence. You answered your own question by reading the room number printed on the back.
The Ritz- Carlton. No wonder everything was dripping with opulence. Of all the hotels in Atlanta, Joker would choose a high profile one.
Did he even care about being recaptured anymore? The best way to blend in was to act normal. It gave you more questions than answers for your already over processed brain. "Hey Neo, does Joker–?" You looked up but he was already gone.
"They come and go so quickly in Oz." Your stomach decided it wanted attention and growled in the now silent room. "Yeah, yeah pipe down. I'll feed you sheesh."
You pulled with all your might to detach the bed sheets from their corner prisons and then walked into the luxury bathroom to relieve yourself.
The room was gorgeous with a walk-in rain shower, real marble countertops, and an adjacent soaker tub. It was nothing like your custom built bathroom back home but it made you question how much a night here cost. With your WHB royalties you could afford it, but that didn't mean you wanted to foot the bill.
You found a complimentary robe identical to the one Florence wore in a separate closet and shrugged it on after washing your hands. It smelled like fresh linen with a hint of vanilla. It would have to do since you didn't have any clothes to change into.
All thanks to Joker. He must have some kind of grudge against your clothes. You knew it needed to end. At this rate you'd actually need all those clothes Bruce bought you..
You slipped your hotel keycard into the robe pocket and slid into the complimentary hotel slippers to ride the elevator down to Florence's suite. Just because it was on a lower floor didn't mean the amenities were lesser than. It was still classy and screamed of wealth.
You rasped your knuckles on the door and patiently waited. It opened to the sight of Florence wearing clothes that Neo provided for her trip back home. You wished your man would give you clothes instead of running them.
She took one look at you and opened her mouth to reply but you weren't here to socialize. You were socially drained and your stomach growling louder by the second was your only priority.
This wouldn't be the first time you shut Florence out and it wouldn't be the last. She'd get over it sooner rather than later.
Neo wasn't kidding when he said he ordered room service. It was straight out of a movie with a rolling tray, silver dome serving dishes and fine china. You opened one and steam hit your face from the fresh array of food. You picked up a plate and proceeded to load it up with your choices.
"Are you seriously gonna snub me for the rest of the day?" Florence asked behind you.
Your silent treatment was notorious and it hit hard knowing you could go days without talking. Living alone for so many years gave you lots of practice.
She rushed over and fixed her own plate before sitting down at the formal dining table across from you. You were busy going through the motions and didn't notice Florence was trying to get your attention. You silently ate your food, lost in a sea of thoughts.
Florence was still pushing her food around when you finished your portion. She panicked when you wiped your mouth clean and stood to leave. "Y/n wait!"
Neo came out of the bedroom, raising an eyebrow at the tense air in the room. What was up with the two of you this early in the morning?
Then you spoke up startling them both with your monotone voice. It was safe to say you were dead inside. "Enjoy your flight back to Gotham."
"What? Y/n what are you talking about? We're flying back together.. N-Neo already bought us tickets!" Florence cried out and begged him to intervene with exaggerated mannerisms. He chose not to get involved.
You sighed and looked away. "No thanks. I'll find my own way back."
"Y/n, don't be reckless." She winced when her choice of words sank in.
"Can't. That's your job, remember?" You padded over to the door and stepped back into your slippers. You patted your pocket, making sure your room key was still inside.
Florence was calling your name but the door was already slamming shut behind you as you headed back to the elevator. You needed some time alone.
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The hotel suite was much colder when you returned. It looked nearly identical to Florence's but a few well placed details distinguished the two rooms to the trained eye.
It didn't matter to you. Your next stop was the bed and it would be the same no matter where you went. Your social battery was at negative zero percent and Joker still being M.I.A didn't help things. You strolled past the kitchenette and dining room in the suite to the bedroom but you screamed at seeing an intruder.
Joker laying spread eagle on the bed was not what you were expecting.
His jet black shirt and slacks was a stark contrast against the pristine white sheets. Last night he blended in with the club's shadows but during the day he looked far more intimidating, like a devilish businessman ready to crush a company with a single phone call.
His disguises were uncanny. His green hair ruined the illusion though. It was currently shielding his eyes from your view but when he lifted his head after hearing your startled cry, they were sharper than any knife boring into your soul.
"Nice robe Bunny." Joker grinned and eyed you from head to toe.
"T-Thank you. Some idiot destroyed my dress last night." You said in between catching your breath.
"Watch it..." He didn't take kindly to your word of choice but pressed forward. "I couldn't resist."
You said nothing as you prepared to walk back out but Joker rushed over and plucked you from the air like you weighed nothing and threw you on the bed. The wind was knocked out of your chest upon impact and Joker used your shock to his advantage to begin untying your robe.
His intentions were clear as day. The man was insatiable.
You blinked in shock and parted your lips to tell him off but Joker saw it as an invitation to kiss you senseless. Your hands flew to his shoulders as he devoured your mind and soul with one kiss. As much as you wanted to pour the same sentiments into the exchange, your heart wasn't in it today yet you knew not to deny Joker.
However the clown was anything but attentive. He parted for air and frowned at your listless gaze staring back at him.
You blinked owlishly at his emerald orbs. When the hue became too much to bear, you averted your gaze but Joker would have none of it. He saw a different kind of desire in your eye and sought to fulfill it.
"Where do ya wanna go?" He sighed. He brushed a stubborn curl off your forehead.
You weren't expecting such a sweet gesture from him. "Huh?"
Joker rolled his eyes and lied down next to you, resting his cheek in his palm. "When it's you against them, you run. I can seeee iT in your eyes, Bunny. You can't physically escape so your mind does."
He tapped your temple with his knuckle. It caught you off guard how easily he identified your dissociation. Florence didn't notice and she knew you for years.
Mindful of your mood, Joker chose to pick up your dainty hand in his much larger one. He stopped to admire your brown skin against his pale complexion and grinned at the contrast.
The two of you were so different, but blended so well together.
"Sooooo. Where. Do. You. Wanna. Go?" He kissed each of your fingers while keeping eye contact with you.
The romantic gestures, Joker acknowledging your meltdown and his devout patience through it, brought tears to your eyes. You felt trapped. Florence's words struck a nerve and you wanted out but you were miles away from your sanctuary. You would have to settle for the next best thing.
You curled up to Joker's chest with a wet sob.
"I want.. I want to get away. S-Somewhere quiet and peaceful."
Joker was at a loss seeing this version of you. Was this how you acted when you disappeared into your room? If so, you were a pathetic sight. A sight he wanted to dote on and protect.
He knew you were vulnerable and sensitive right now. He didn't know if you needed space or affection. He rested his hand on your head despite his uncertainty. You didn't shy away from it.
He surmised you were burnt out from partying last night and from what Neo explained to him, you also had an argument this morning with Florence.
Joker knew with your current mental exhaustion, you would lash out at anyone just to get away. He would have to tread carefully to not upset you. He didn't want to be iced out either. Joker had to curb his own selfish desires and be the mediator for once. He never had to calm someone down before. He didn't know how to comfort others.
So far he was doing good just by holding you close. You were dozing off in Joker's embrace when he asked you again.
"Mm sorry. Can we go to the beach?" You glanced up at his profile.
His scars were on full display from this angle but they didn't scare you. Waiting for his response did. It sent millions of butterflies swarming in your gut. As the minutes ticked by in silence you anticipated his rejection.
He mulled it over completely unaware that stalling was causing you more pain. Joker wanted to try lifting your spirits with a pop culture reference but it took him a minute to remember the quote correctly.
"You wanna go outside? Why Y/n look at you, as fragile as a flower!"
He rolled over to hide the infectious grin taking over his face but you didn't see it that way. Joker turning his back on you felt like a hard no. Your first reaction was to break down completely, but then your mind processed his poor attempt at a joke, forcing you to backtrack.
He felt you climb on his back and turned his head your way. There was a dangerous gleam in Joker's eye making it luminescent. "Ah, careful there Princess."
You flushed at the position you were in. The nickname and warning sent a chill down your spine but you shook it away.
"I'm going to ignore the fact you watched a Disney movie to know that quote— but I'm serious, Joker. Just you and me. Please?"
The moment you said the word serious he was all ears. You let him shift your weight around so he could lay on his back with you straddling him proper.
His hands found their natural place on your hips and he smacked his lips before gazing up at you. Your adorable pout could ruin him. He liked when you smiled, not all sad and abysmal. He really had to fix this mood of yours before he took you back to Gotham.
"You forget... I'm a want-ed criminal." He tapped your thigh peeking out from the robe in some Morse code that you couldn't decipher.
"That hasn't stopped you before. Plus, I wanna go to the beach at night." You explained. His eyebrow dipped in confusion.
"At night?" He echoed back.
"Yes. I wanna hear the dark ocean waves crashing onto the shore and feel the stillness of the night embrace me." You closed your eyes and held yourself while swaying with a dreamy smile on your face.
Joker watched you fondly, picturing it himself.
"Hmm. Have I ever told you you're goood with words?" He grabbed the back of your neck to drag you down for a kiss.
For the first time this morning you laughed. Joker relished in the sound and let it wash over him. He could listen to its twinkling bells and never tire of it.
"I think once or twice." You kissed his cheek, knowing the skin there was sensitive. "Can we though?"
Joker winced at the affectionate touch and retaliated by pushing your robe off your shoulders to pool around your waist. You shivered from being exposed but let Joker do whatever.
"Can we.. whaT?" Joker sat up to kiss your neck, trying to get you in the mood.
It wasn't working and you tried rolling away but he kept you perched on his lap with his strong grip. You weren't going anywhere he didn't want you to.
"Nope. Nooo more running away from meee. Yeah sand and salty water. That sounds.. relaxing. You sure about this?" Joker sighed after a while.
He finally undid your robe and bared you fully to his gaze. The canvas of your body was painted with splotches of eggplant and indigo, the after work of Joker's possessives— ranging from love bites to his heavy handprints. Two days worth of lovemaking was imprinted on your skin and he brushed each mark with the tips of his fingers in morbid fascination.
His favorite? The ones on the dips of your hips.
He loved grabbing you by the waist and keeping you close so the bruises there never seemed to heal. You wore them proudly. If anything, they tickled whenever Joker pressed down on the dark blemishes like he was right now.
"Y-Yeah. Let's.. mmm, let's make the whole day of it. We can stay at ahh... at a hotel on the coast and f-finish what you're trying to start." You breathed out.
Joker leaned back so he could see your face. A dusting of red took over your features although he could tell you were still emotionally drained.
"Why don't you wanna do it here? I bet, you're uh, weT already Bun–"
"I-I've never been to a beach before." You confessed. Joker saw you look away. Your entire demeanor was closed off again. Sex wouldn't fix your mood so he stopped trying.
"Well. That? That's gonna change today, doll. Every city girl needs to uhh, experience a day at the beach!" He mimicked your uncertain nod with his enthusiastic one.
You were closing him out again and he didn't like you all melancholic. Joker liked his Bunny in high spirits so he decided to go all out to make you happy again. He smacked your bum to get you off of him. "Go get ready."
When you didn't move, he tossed you on the bed and started patting his pockets for his burner phone.
You were left trying to stabilize your balance before you bounced clean off the bed. Joker's mood came and went so quickly, it was hard to tell when he would be affectionate or apathetic.
You watched as he called up Frost, dismissing you completely, until he turned and snapped his fingers at you in warning. "I won'T say it again, doll."
You didn't need to be told twice. Paired with Joker's sultry dom tone and his dark business attire, you quickly obeyed. His sharp green eyes followed you as you grabbed the toiletries bag Neo brought and scurried into the bathroom with your discarded robe.
Unfortunately you tripped halfway there and caught yourself, quoting some kind of Blüdhaven phrase he heard once or twice. Joker smirked at your quirky personality slowly creeping back up to the surface.
By the day's end he hoped you were fully back to normal. Well, your definition of normal at least. His focus shifted back to his phone when Frost repeated himself to get his Boss's attention.
"Great idea Frosty! She'll love that.."
The bathroom door clicking close transported you to a different state of mind. All was quiet here amongst the marble and bright lights. The big mirror in front of you beckoned you over and you did, to take in the state of your hair.
You determined your curls could last another day despite Joker constantly pulling on them all last night and then going to sleep without a bonnet on. It was a miracle you would gladly take since you had no other way to fix them. You peeked into the duffel bag provided to you and debated on taking a shower or a quick wash up.
Joker was busy on the phone and he didn't specify how much time you had so with a grin you grabbed the loofah and the bottle of shower gel and approached the shower with glee.
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Joker was still in the bedroom ironing out the itinerary for the day when Frost brought up a very good question.
"Which one she wanting to go to?"
Joker hummed out loud. Wasn't every beach the same? Same sand, same water, just on a different coast. So did it really matter which one? He was good with geography and racked his brain for the nearest shoreline in Georgia but stopped short.
This was about you. If he picked a random beach and you didn't like it, then what was the point? His Bunny had particular tastes so he would honor them.
Luckily you didn't lock the bathroom door. Joker burst through it on the hunt for his squeeze. You weren't near the sink and a peek in the tub— you hadn't drowned yourself, that's good to know. The only place left was.. there.
You saw the glass door slide open and turned to face Joker. You were rinsing off and dashed to cover yourself as he stared in awe.
"Mmm I don't see the point, doll. I've seen.. every.. single inch of ya. Tasted it too." He licked his lips, remembering.
You shielded yourself out of habit. "W-Whatever. What do you want?"
Joker arched an eyebrow at your tone. You were still defensive. "Do ya care which one Bunny?"
He watched a trickle of water trail down your legs and barely heard your request for him to clarify.
"I'll be more clearER then." He stepped into the shower and tactfully avoided getting wet while keeping the phone in his hand dry as well. "Which beach?" He slurred his words on purpose to provoke you.
Your mouth quivered trying to think while Joker eyed you like that. You couldn't avoid his ardent gaze no matter how hard you tried. In the end you rambled off the first shore on your mind.
"I a-always wanted to go to Martha's Vineyard. There's a pier there with the most picturesque view I've seen online. I think it's called Aquinnah Cliffs or something like that."
Joker blinked at you, holding the phone. He knew exactly where it was. "That's in Massachusetts."
"So?" You tucked a few stray curls back under your shower cap and spun around to finish up. You made your choice. The conversation was over.
Frost couldn't believe what he was hearing and snickered on his end of the phone.
Yeah, you had Joker wrapped around your finger. No one ever talked to the Boss like that and survived, let alone dismissed him so flippantly. Frost would have paid good money to see Joker's face right about now. In the meantime, he made himself useful and checked to see if there was a house in the area that the gang owned and spoke up.
"I'll contact our operations nearby and get things sorted out." Frost said in farewell.
Joker glanced at the phone in shock. He didn't agree to this! And much to his irritation, Frost had already hung up. Who was running things around here? He heard the shower come to a stop and he narrowed his eyes when you stepped out like the Birth of Venus with steam curling around your body.
You were a true goddess indeed. You hesitated at the entrance with a sheepish look. "I didn't grab a towel."
Or maybe just a ditzy mortal wench sent to drive him even more insane.
Joker exhaled through his nose and stood his ground. A tense stand-off occurred with you dripping wet and him eyeing you expressionless. "Joker.. I'm creating a puddle on the floor. Can you please hand me a towel?"
So what if you ordered him around a bit? He was still in charge. Your pretty white teeth biting down on your lips was oh so worth bending to your will. And so was the award winning smile you gave him.
He grumbled but grabbed a towel and all but threw it at you. "Thank you." You smiled again when you caught it and began to dry off.
You bent over to dry your legs and he groaned at the arch in your back.
Since when was drying off sexy or was it simply because you were doing it? His sex drive was nonexistent before he met you but now everything about you aroused him. Did you drug him with something? Was it healthy to be this attracted to someone?
You straightened back up and patted your arms, blissfully unaware of your alluring prowess. "Hey. What was Frost talking about on the phone? Do you have an operation in Massachusetts?"
You were under the impression that Joker only terrorized Gotham City. You yanked your shower cap off and shook your curls back to life in the mirror. You saw Joker walk up behind you in the reflection but continued grooming yourself.
"They're still pretty, Sugar." Your hands froze. Joker and his infinite nicknames for you. It never fails.
You cleared your throat and went to grab your lotion off the counter. "You didn't answer my question."
Joker smacked your hands away and started lotioning you up himself. He began with your shoulders and locked eyes with you in the mirror.
"You reallyyyy think I would limit my fun to just Gotham? Pffft. Come on, Bunny! I'm a national threat." He nipped your neck and massaged the lotion down your back.
You let that sink in as Joker moisturized your body. You thought of all the suffering he caused so many people yet when he was with you, Joker was anything but kind. He treated you with the utmost respect and went out his way to be nice. Sure, he was still The Joker and at times his words were like a double edged sword, but he always kissed the wounds and made them better in the end.
You glanced down at the faded cuts on your hands he gave you weeks ago.
It was almost fully healed but the mental reminder was permanent. You craned your neck in the mirror and saw the endless love bites and scratches that adorned your skin. Joker was sour and then sweet but could you overlook how he treated others?
He could love on you endlessly but once these months spent together passed, he would return to his terror across the country. Could you live with knowing the man whom you considered a lover enjoyed murder and destruction? What would your mother think if she knew the company her daughter kept?
You could see your father's disapproving head shake now. If he hated your high school boyfriends, what would he think of Joker? Absolutely the worst. Mom would try to convince me to move back home and Dad would get himself killed trying to threaten Joker somehow. You thought.
You let out a shaky sigh and failed to see Joker finishing up with his task. He said your name but your eyes were unfocused, staring ahead beyond this bathroom. Where did your mind go, he wondered? Somewhere he could not follow. He called your name again to no avail so he used his last resort. Fear.
The bottle slamming loudly on the sink scared you out of your rabbit hole. Joker's frown greeted you in the mirror.
"When you're done uh, float-ing, there's a dress for you on the bed." He walked towards the door leaving you bereft. "Be ready to go by 1pm."
Then you were left all alone and more unsure of this fragile relationship than you ever been.
By the time you splashed some water on your face, Joker was gone. You clutched the robe tighter around you as you searched the suite for him. With a heavy heart you trudged back to the bedroom but stopped short seeing a flash of color on the white sheets.
A ruffled floral dress was carefully laid out on a wooden hanger. At the foot of the bed, a pair of pink ribbon stilettos brought the whole outfit together. You walked over to inspect it closer.
You knew your closet like the back of your hand. Seeing a piece from your most recent summer haul put a smile on your face.
"And he says he doesn't plan things." You sighed. Joker made it hard to hate him when he did things like this. Maybe you could overlook his flaws after all.
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You were twirling around in your maxi dress when three loud knocks sounded from the hotel door.
"J-Just a second!" You had already packed the duffel bag Neo gave you and zipped your evening bag inside of it. Besides that, you had nothing to your name. You were just waiting around for Joker to return.
You looked through the peephole to see the back of Neo's braids and rushed to open the door. "Aren't you supposed to be flying back to Gotham with Florence?"
A glance at the clock in the room put that day around noon.
He scoffed. "Business first. Pleasure later. Walk down to the lobby, you're already checked out. There's a car waiting to take you to the airport. Be discreet." You nodded and heaved your bag onto your shoulder, ready to walk out the door if not for Neo grabbing your arm.
"I'll take care of Florence but call her later tonight if you can. She's blaming herself for your sh__ty attitude."
In that moment you viewed Neo a lot more differently. It seemed like he actually cared about your friend, which baffled you. You knew his stereotype well. Neo was all about himself, however he was proving your assumptions dead wrong.
"I will and thanks, Neo. I mean it." Your smile was faint but it still made him flustered.
He faltered with his response and let his grip on you fall. Who knew getting on your good side would be so easy? He nodded his head towards the elevator down the hall and off you went, following his instructions to the letter.
You blended in with the posh hotel guests filling the lobby and no one stopped you when you walked straight out the door. A sleek black town car with the correct license plate was waiting for you. You half expected Sebastian to be your driver but when you opened the door you were thoroughly disappointed to see an unknown female at the wheel. She kept her head straight ahead when you said hello.
Based on her demeanor you knew she was either under Joker's employ or threatened to keep her mouth shut. Definitely the latter. He wasn't joking when he said he had pull outside of Gotham.
Just how dangerous was Joker? A part of you didn't want to find out.
The fifteen minute drive to the airport was anticlimactic but you still entertained yourself with your phone, catching up on last night's group chat and answering a few social media messages. Morgana and Barbara made it back to Gotham safely and Florence's departure time was scheduled for 4:15pm.
You were reaching your own method of transportation if Atlanta traffic would allow. The chaotic mess that was the international airport tacked on another thirty minutes to the travel time.
Oddly enough your driver turned onto a different section of the airport that looked restricted to the public. "Hey.. where are we going?" You asked her.
She kept quiet as she pulled the town car up to a private tarmac near a small jet. The car shifted to park and she idled in silence, waiting for you to leave.
"Okay.. since you're not talking. Thanks for the ride, I guess." You rolled your eyes and grabbed your things but stopped when she finally spoke.
"Be careful."
Your hand wavered on the door handle. Her warning shook you up a bit. It was like she knew something you didn't. You left without a response.
The charter jet looked big on the outside but once you stepped aboard it only had eight seats. You placed your duffel bag on the nearest one and heaved a sigh until you heard someone behind you.
"D__n, Bunny. Don't yoooou look..." Joker leaned on a seat and openly checked you out.
When he saw that dress hanging up in the guest bedroom closet, he needed to see you wearing it. He found matching shoes still in their original box in the back and instantly fell in love.
He didn't know what compelled him to bring a change of clothes for you. Maybe a part of him wanted to spend more time with you outside Gotham city limits. Seeing you now he was glad he brought a few things.
Too bad he didn't have access to your jewelry collection; you needed some gold on to truly complete the look. Joker rounded the seat and you got to see another one of his disguises.
"Oh." You never seen Joker look so casual before. Sure, he wore t-shirts and sweats around the penthouse but that was loungewear and you two weren't out in public. This was better than any tailored suit he could wear.
Joker wore a tight white tee over distressed grey ripped jeans. He hid his dyed hair under a baseball cap, turned backwards of course, and you saw a flash of silver hanging around his neck. He tied the ensemble together with crisp white sneakers and his mischievous grin. You followed a prominent vein on his forearm up to his biceps that were on full display in his tee. This man could make anything look good, it was illegal.
He bent down to push your jaw closed with his finger. "Like what ya see?"
You nodded mutely. Joker smiled wide before walking towards the cockpit. That made you sober up fast. You jumped to your feet to follow after him.
"Joker! Wait! Did you steal this plane?" He said nothing as he sat down and started messing with the controls. You looked on in horror when the dash lit up in an array of lights and controls.
"Noooo silly. I'm.. borrowing it!" He flipped on the main engine switch and you panicked further, hearing it whirl to life. "Excuse me... what is you doing?!"
He snorted at your improper use of grammar. It meant you were nervous. He'd take any emotion rather than the lack thereof.
"Starting the engine. We can't fly without any power dear. Or fuel. Lots of that.." He chuckled to himself as if this was all another joke.
"I'd buckle in if I were you." He tossed your way. You were still standing by the cockpit door.
Joker sighed when you failed to move. He grabbed your wrist and dragged you down into the co-pilot seat and handed you a headset. You took it with shaky, sweaty hands. He fastened your seatbelt for you but everything was happening way too fast for you to comprehend.
The only thing that did make sense was the plane's cabin door closing with just you and Joker inside.
"Where's our pilot, Joker?!!"
He smacked his lips, ignoring your hysterics in favor of contacting ATC. "Atlanta Center this is.. uh, L0LJK holding short of Runway 26 Romeo, to MVY."
It all sounded like Chinese to you but some gut instinct told you to keep quiet.
There was a period of silence as Joker continued messing with the controls but finally Frost's voice came over the radio. "Just go."
You heard a scuffle on his end before the feed went dead yet Joker paid it no mind. He checked to see if you were secure, (you were way too quiet for his liking) before responding back via protocol.
"Cleared for takeoff. Runway 26 Romeo L0LJK." It was his official signal to start moving the plane. You glanced over at his giddy smile and erratic behavior. A madman was your pilot. A literal madman. You were gonna be sick.
You looked out the window as the plane taxied to its designated strip and started gaining more and more speed. It was such a common thing on a commercial flight but alone with Joker you felt each bump on the runway as you barreled down it. He was running out of tarmac and the plane was still on the ground.
That snapped you out of your stupor. "I-I-I c-changed my m-mind! I don't wanna go!! Let's stay h-here in Atlanta for the w-weekend!"
"A bit too late for that sweetheart." He chuckled lowly. The end of the runway inched closer and closer.
"JOKER I'M SERIOUS!"
"So am I." He whispered. He jerked the yoke up, pulling the plane into the sky at the last minute. Your screams filled the cabin along with Joker's maniacal laugh. Your head lolled back in your seat as you fainted.
The skies were clear and Joker followed procedures to get the jet to its average cruising altitude. It didn't take long but he couldn't afford to glance over and check on you during his checklists. He heard your body startle awake thirty minutes into the flight, and he breathed a bit easier knowing you were okay.
Once things were steady, he finally stole a gander at you.
"Y/n? Talk to me, doll." He clicked his tongue at your lack of reply and waited for you to fully come to. Your eyes were still closed and your breath in short, quick pants.
"W-Where? Oh. H-How? When did you learn how to fly?" You mumbled out. Joker shook his head at your broken sentences as you struggled to get your bearings straight.
"There's a– loT you don't know about me, Bunny. It's bet-ter that way."
You eyed him sideways after that cryptic response. You had to admit while you lost your marbles, Joker looked so at ease up here hitting buttons and navigating the skies almost... like..
You remembered the flash of silver you saw around his neck and decided to keep your theories to yourself. Joker eyed you out of the corner of his eye. He knew your mind could operate faster than the speed of light when you were lost in thought. There was no such thing as wishful thinking with you.
Things were calm and he felt confident enough to switch the controls over to autopilot to free up his hands.
You heard his seatbelt click loose and your e/c eyes darted over to him bending at the knee to unbuckle you. "No! What're you–"
Joker covered your clammy hands with his own. "Calm.. down, Y/n. It's safe ok? I joke around but I would neverrrrr risk your life like.. this. You trust me, hmm?"
Trust. Such a precious gift easily broken. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath before drowning yourself into pools of emerald.
Joker's eyes were so clear as he tried to convince you. He knew you were more guarded than ever due to your lackluster mood. He could only hope that you actually trusted him when you finally gave him a hesitant nod. "O-Okay."
Joker repeated it back to you and rested his hand on your knee. It was shaking uncontrollably. You didn't notice.
"It'll take us four hourss to get to the, uh, Vineyard. You want something to drinK?"
"I didn't see a galley onboard." In fact, you only saw a single door at the end of the plane, most likely the lavatory, and the standard row of seats.
This jet was obviously for short business trips, nothing more. Your head nodded against your will. Joker didn't move, he was reading your body language to better understand your thoughts.
"Sweetheart. You thought I would starve you for four looong hours? I brought our own drinks and snacks." He smiled and went to grab them from his bag.
You snorted at his antics. "But you don't make plans."
"I don't!" He laughed from the back of the plane.
The initial shock must've worn off since you were talking more however; you were still somber and socially withdrawn. That would change once the plane landed. He would make sure of it.
Speaking of. Landing was less stressful since you knew Joker was more than capable of operating the plane.
He gave you some (insert favorite snack) and a bottle of water about halfway to the island and you looked on in amusement as he inhaled four Frosted blueberry PopTarts straight from the box. You hoped whoever flew the plane next didn't care about crumbs and fruit filling smudged all over the controls.
Joker contacted the Vineyard's airport tower requesting permission to land and kept things professional using the plane's actual call sign this time. Apparently he knew when to be serious. Within minutes, the Ground granted access and Joker landed the plane at the island's main airport.
He went through the final post flight procedures to power off the plane before rounding on you.
"Listen carefully Y/n." He didn't stutter or enunciate any words differently; he meant business so you kept quiet and listened. "From now on until we leave, don't say my name in public."
"But.. how am I supposed to address you?" You asked. He unbuckled your seatbelt and helped you out of your seat.
Such a gentleman. He yanked your co-pilot headset off your head, pulling your hair with it. When he wants to be. You mused.
"I'm your bodyguard. Your shadow. People don't talk to their shadows now do they? I do, but I'm far from normal, doll " He led you past the row of seats towards the cabin door. "If you need to address me, look me in the eye."
He pushed the door open and the afternoon sunlight entered the jet. You could smell the saltwater in the air but his request had you turning around. "How will you–"
Oh. Your eyes instantly met Joker's. The intensity of it threatened to burn you alive.
"I'm always lookin' at you, Y/n." He swept his arms down the stairs. "Ladies first."
Your heart swooned.
You ducked your head so he couldn't see the flush spreading on your cheeks and took the stairs one at a time in your pink Louboutin's. You stepped onto the concrete tarmac and placed a hand in your hair when a strong gust of wind blew.
It danced in your hair and played with the helm of your dress. To Joker, you were exquisite. He almost dropped the bags he carried down the stairs overwhelmed by your natural beauty. You were so unaware of it.
No one was around but that wouldn't last. Joker was sans makeup so he quickly donned sunglasses and his face mask from his back pocket to cover up. And right on time. He watched the car he had Frost call ahead pull up next to you.
You backed away from the unmarked Mercedes SUV even when the driver rolled the window down and recited a code to Joker. He responded back in kind and dumped the luggage in the trunk. Thankfully you hadn't noticed it yet.
He spotted you still standing off to the side and grinned. "Good girl. Never assume everything is under my control."
You did a double take at his concealed face. You didn't know how to respond so you just thanked him for holding the passenger door open for you.
He closed it and rounded the vehicle to speak to his henchmen. They exchanged a few words and to your confusion, they handed Joker a box of sorts before jogging up the plane's stairs.
They automatically retracted, closing the unknown goon inside.
Joker hopped in the car, narrowly avoiding hitting you when he tossed the parcel into the backseat and buckled in. You stole a peek at it, an unmarked recyclable brown box with clear tape. You heard the impact as it landed on the floor. It had weight to it.
"What's that?" Joker pushed the gear shift into drive and spared you a, don't ask, type of look.
"Okay..." You dropped it.
He jerked the car into motion and you quickly came to the conclusion that Joker was a reckless driver. You briefly considered offering to drive but you didn't know where to go. You rarely traveled outside of Gotham City since you moved there from Blüdhaven, but Joker drove the SUV around like he lived in Martha's Vineyard his entire life.
The bustling city portion of the island quickly turned into lush forests and two lane streets the further he drove. It was only a twenty minute drive but the ride was all scenic and you sat in the passenger seat in awe of the most affluent island in the East Coast. It truly lived up to its grandeur.
The pavement soon gave way to smooth gravel as Joker maneuvered the vehicle onto a private driveway. Nothing but greenery lined the long drive and it felt like the path was carved straight from nature. Just as you thought he turned down the wrong road, a house emerged from the foliage.
"Woah.." The acreage was massive.
Joker purposefully slowed down so you could take in the sight of the two story cottage style home peeking through the tree line. You saw the detached house and itched to explore.
You didn't waste any time and bolted from the SUV the second it rolled into park. The lawn was manicured and stretched into the surrounding forest but your feet carried you up to the front door, not caring about how it was already unlocked, to check the place out.
The main house was jaw dropping. Original wood beams lined the high ceilings and each big window offered up natural light and a taste of the picturesque landscape outside.
The kitchen was beautiful and distinctively vintage with its Robin's egg blue accents and natural wood finishes. Everything was polished and fresh to your senses. Someone obviously cleaned up in preparation for your arrival. By the time Joker caught up, you had already explored the main floor and terrace and kicked off your heels somewhere along the way.
The grass stained the soles of your feet as you took in a deep breath of serenity. This is what you needed. Just a moment away from the city and all of its heavy bog. You were still breathing in the fresh air when a pair of arms wrapped around you from behind.
Joker said nothing as he held you close and you leaned back on this broad chest, sighing. "How long can we stay here?"
A gust of wind blew and tousled your curls again. Joker tightened his grip on you lest you float away.
"Peak season hasn't started yeT. The current population is under thirty thousand ish, sooo we got all the, uhh, privacy in the world. At least for the weekend. Buuuut I can't stay away any longer from my errr, operations, doll."
You giggled at his exaggerated words and played with one of his hands wrapped around your middle. "Why not? You don't trust Frost to run the show for a few days?"
He lowered his voice in your ear. "Ex-act-ly."
You got the feeling that Joker never lowered his guard and had fun— and not his twisted version that involved murder. Did he ever stop and smell the roses? He was way too tense standing behind you; like something was gonna jump out and attack any moment.
"You never relax, do you?" You turned in his arms and cradled his cheek so he could look down at you.
With your heels off, Joker easily towered over you and the height difference made you feel safe. His words from earlier stuck with you.
"I'm your bodyguard." He was doing a fine job at it. Your e/c eyes dropped down to the mask he still wore and slipped it off of him. It was just you and Joker here; no need to hide.
He couldn't help licking his lips, now free to your gaze. "Never." He mumbled. "Except... when I'm with you."
Your creative mind took his confession and spun a narrative. Of course his brand of relaxation was removing his identity at the end of the day.
You doubted he removed his signature makeup before you two met like he does now. He explained he could go weeks at a time, just touching up the paint as needed, to keep up appearances. Now Joker went days without applying and it was definitely liberating.
Although the same man remained, Joker could finally relax and be himself.
He would have never shopped in a grocery store in broad daylight or entered a club of his own accord before he met you. You freed him in more ways than you'd ever know. He could let go and just be a man falling in lo—-
Joker sneered and pushed you away.
It wasn't like you two were having a moment or anything. You wrote it off as another one of Joker's unpredictable mood swings and caught your balance in the grass with no hard feelings. Joker had his back to you but you could hear him mumbling to himself about what to do with you.
Now who's the one distancing themselves? You thought wryly.
You knew he would need some time and turned back around to catch the afternoon sun sitting on the horizon. Everything felt more simple out here and you wished this could be the norm. In a few more days you would have to leave and return to Gotham and deal with book deadlines, the upcoming GothCon, and countless other matters again.
But for now, in this rare moment, you were simply Y/n enjoying a slice of paradise.
"Food. I gotta feed my Bunny. Yeah, food is a good idea." Joker nodded to himself before addressing you. "So whaddya say we grab a bite and uh.. go from there? Hey. Y/n?"
He stumbled down a mental rabbit hole but now you were lost in one of your own.
He kept quiet and studied you instead. Your eyes were closed and the golden sun reflected off of your skin in the best way, but Joker couldn't think so freely. Not after he almost said that word.
His emotions almost got the better of him. You almost made him fall. He couldn't afford to think like that, especially considering the circumstances. Five months. You can't get attached to her. He vowed to himself.
But he already was. Just one look and he couldn't resist your magnetic pull. He said your name and you instantly gave him your undivided attention. He looked at you expectantly.
"Oh! Okay y-yeah let's go then. Don't forget I wanna visit the pier once it gets dark."
Like he could forget the sole reason he flew four hours. The things he did for you. You walked up to him with a faint smile on your lips.
The day wasn't over yet and you were almost back in good spirits. Maybe this trip was exactly what you needed after all.
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Dinner with Joker was straight out of a romance novel.
The restaurant was busy even during pre-season and it forced Joker to fall back as you requested a table for two with extra private seating on the balcony.
GCN broadcasted Joker still being at large daily and you didn't know if that coverage made it to the other states or not. Regardless, it made you paranoid to have him out in public but he brushed off your concern with an eye roll. He was in full disguise in a completely different state.
He was more concerned about Two Face hunting you down than Batman catching him. There was a time and place for that concern and it wasn't here at the dinner table with you.
The food was delicious, fresh seafood caught from down the road and the service was beyond excellent (even if you knew Joker somehow bribed them beforehand).
Sometime after the appetizer was ordered, he took off his mask and acknowledged your presence. He would turn his head away anytime a server came to the table but swiftly returned his focus back on you once they left.
Joker lived up to his name and kept you laughing well until the sun began to set. From his point of view, you were absolutely stunning, backlit by the sunset with your natural curls dancing in the sea breeze and that dazzling smile of yours shining brighter than the twinkling lights overhead.
Any negative thoughts that originally poisoned your mood were long gone. You were back to being the awkward, yet joyful Y/n that he knew and lov—
Sigh.
You made it so easy for him to let go! Joker tried so hard to pretend he wasn't out wine and dining the most beautiful woman in the world and making her laugh at his stupid jokes. He tried so hard.
He couldn't fall into this fantasy where things were perfect and normal with you. It would only hurt in the end when he had to leave, but it felt so right to (for once) be a normal guy out enjoying a girl's company.
No madness, no crime; just you and him.
You slid your hand across the table into Joker's. "What happened next? You gotta tell me!" You asked, still laughing.
He almost forgot the end of the story after hearing your bell-like voice tinkling in his ear. What was he saying? "I uh..
"Hold that thought, the check is here." You expressed your gratitude to the waiter who came by with the bill. You were about to open it when Joker snatched it out of your hand.
"J—" You slapped a hand over your mouth for almost saying his name aloud. He arched an eyebrow and kept the check out of your reach. "G-give that back."
He glanced at the bill and reached into his back pocket to grab a wad of money.
You looked on in bewilderment as he rounded to the nearest dollar and shoved the total inside along with a hefty tip. You didn't know he was carrying cash and.. so much at that. Your poor debit card felt useless sitting in your purse now.
"You uhh wanted to see the beach?" He asked out of the blue. A glance at your phone put the time around nine o'clock. "Yeah, but it's still early." You replied.
"What time are ya planning this nightly escapade of yours hmm?"
Good question. You brought a finger to your chin in thought. Joker groaned out loud at your lack of foresight.
"By the time we get there it'll be dark Y/n. We should go back to the house so you can ahh.. change. Can't visit the beach dressed like that."
He wiggled his fingers in your direction and you looked down at your attire in confusion. "Like what?"
"Like a fuc— ahem. Li-ke a doll." He sucked in a breath, "The heels.. the heels can stay."
You scoffed and sat further back in your chair. "Just the heels huh? You got a foot fetish I need to know about?"
He stared at your dainty feet wrapped up like a literal present in your designer shoes. "If it's your feet thennnn, yes."
You laughed outright. His logic was so elementary at times it was ridiculous. "Unbelievable."
Joker caught himself smiling along. He had no shame making another joke at his own expense.
"What can I say? I'm a man of.. distinguished taste. And I loveee sweets." He made a show of licking his lips and eyeing your body.
The innuendo made you flush garnet red. There wasn't a quick comeback queued up in your brain so you dug your own grave saying, "Why don't you order dessert then?"
"Oh I did, Bunny. I'm taking it to-go." He took one last sip of his drink (sighing loudly of course) before standing up and offering you his hand. "Are ya ready to go?"
Smooth. Real smooth.
You chuckled lowkey to yourself but let Joker be a gentleman and help you up. You heard him curse when you bent down to grab your bag that you purposefully dropped on the floor.
Joker wasn't the only one who could be a tease. He was onto your schemes by the time you straightened up with a coy smile. Yeah, you were back to normal.
Riling Joker up was like waiting for a bomb to go off. You knew it would blow, you just didn't know how massive the explosion would be. Or when the timer would hit zero.
He put his mask back on and walked with you to the entrance to retrieve the SUV from the valet. He didn't give them a chance to hold your door open, that was his job thank you very much!
"Your chariot awaits, Princess."
He said it so loud almost everyone outside heard but it was a mere whisper to how loudly Joker smacked your behind.
The motion helped you up into the vehicle with an adorable flush to your complexion. Joker winked at the speechless valet attendant before getting in the car as well.
Provoking Joker was definitely worth the risk. Too bad his bomb was far more destructive than what you anticipated.
Joker teased you the entire ride back to the house. He held your thigh, squeezing way too close to your heat that it ached and he used both hands to turn the wheel right as you whimpered in need. The lingering heat from his hands burned more than anything.
He didn't spare you at stop signs either. He would call your name (and like an idiot) you faced him, only to have his lips faintly brush against yours in a phantom kiss. By the time you tried leaning in to claim your prize, he would abruptly accelerate and laugh at you scrambling in the passenger seat.
You slowly acclimated yourself to his horrid driving skills. At least it wasn't as terrifying like Frost's. Did they learn how to drive together? You shuddered at the thought.
Joker saw you shudder and wondered what you were thinking about but kept quiet as he turned down the house's private driveway.
"You're seriously forcing me to change. Into what? I don't have any clothes because someone didn't tell me I was spending the weekend out of town!" You yelled after he turned the car off.
He raked a hand through his hair, a clear sign of his irritation yet you stood your ground. All of the island's stores and boutiques were closed, leaving you no other choice but to keep what you had on.
He had enough and turned to face you. "When you twist your uhh ankle? I don't wanna hear you complaining' mkay? And I'm not carrying you." He added before you could open your mouth. "I mean it." He growled.
The low baritone sent shivers down your spine. "F-Fine! You wanted me to keep the heels on anyway. It's a win-win situation all around." You tapped the clock on the dashboard. "It's getting late. I want to see the pier now."
You were asking for it now. Joker cracked his neck and turned the SUV back on to drive you to the beach. He'd fix your bratty attitude later. Who wanted to visit a beach at night anyways? And people thought he was crazy. You bounced in your seat as if proving his point further.
When he finally arrived at the Moshup trail parking lot, you could hear the ocean crashing onto the rocky shore louder than ever. You wanted to see it for yourself and moved to open the door when it auto locked. "Joker.."
"Look at me." You heard that voice before. Assertive, serious, and a bit scary if you were being completely honest.
Joker didn't mess around whenever his voice lowered the way it did. You felt his hands tremble as he cupped your face. "I... I reallly don't want you hurtin' yourself okay Bunny?"
You could barely see his green eyes pleading with you with the car lights off. Just like on the plane earlier, Joker was serious and it scared you with how desperate he sounded.
Your safety really mattered to him. You nodded slowly. "Okay. I-I'll be careful."
Ten minutes later...
Joker sighed to himself watching you prance around the beach while holding your long discarded pink heels in his hands. After you tripped on a rock, he ripped them off your feet in anger, going on about you never following his instructions.
Whatever. You were now free to run as you pleased. Not a single person was around due to the late hour but you wouldn't have it any other way.
The moon was the only natural source of light save for the rotating beam atop the lighthouse a few yards away. It stood proudly amidst the cliffs, a true beacon in the night. It was the exact scene you described to Joker back in Atlanta. The rocky cliffs, the pitch black ocean crashing every odd minute or so against it, and the briny taste on the breeze. He stood by as you spun in circles and tossed sand in the air like a freaking kid.
He could get used to this.. to seeing you happy. Joker looked away for a mere second but his eyes immediately found you when he heard your loud peal of laughter. You were dancing in the moonlight to music only you could hear and he was totally transfixed by it. You looked so carefree, so innocent; he wanted a piece of this to remember him by.
He was glad he brought the Polaroid camera he found in the house here. It was the perfect tool for the job. Joker called out your name over the waves. You turned to face him the exact second he took the picture.
You shied away from the delayed flash and jogged over to his side. "Joker, what are you up to now?"
He waited until the photo printed and shook it a bit to help speed up the development process. It was grainy and incredibly dark, but the nearby lighthouse did well to highlight your frame enough.
In short, Joker captured the ultimate moody photo of you.
He could make out your wild curls framing your face and a hint of your eyes staring straight into the camera if the photo were more clearer. But your smile was and that's all that mattered to Joker.
You didn't know what to expect when you nuzzled into his side but a dark dud wasn't it. "Aww it didn't come out that good." You tapped the pic.
"No. No.. it's perfect." He hadn't looked up from it yet.
"Uhh.. don't you think it's way too dark?" You critiqued. That wasn't what Joker saw but he couldn't summarize it better himself. He finally looked at you with a crazed gleam in his eye.
"That.. haha! That's the point, Y/n! The beach is dark but only you stood out. Just you. You're.. you're glowing.. from within. You're. You. Only you.."
Joker's speech was slurred as if he were drunk. He dropped the camera unexpectedly to kiss you. You gasped in shock but knocked Joker's hat off so you could bury your hands into his brownish green locks. You stumbled back in the sand as Joker pushed forward in his fervent pursuit.
Joker's kisses were always electric however you felt every fiber of his being— morphing with yours, here and now. You felt his desperation, his primal need to have you close, in this messy clash of lips and tongue. Moans and short whines escaped you as Joker swallowed them up to claim your lips with his own.
He broke away with a guttural groan. "You're the light in the darkness." He mumbled on your lips. "My light."
You were speechless. Your ears heard his confession loud and clear but your heart was lagging far behind.
Joker sounded so sincere as he held you tight, (almost too tight), while his forehead rested on yours. You never heard him so out of breath before but sure enough he was struggling in more ways than one.
He muttered something under his breath and dropped to his knees right there on the sand. It took you ages to process that action for what it was.
"J-Joker what are you... mmfph!" He shoved your dress up and bathed your midsection with affection.
"I ahh.. I don't think w-we should um d-do this here." Despite the uncertainty in your voice, your hips bucked into his touch even as you glanced around for any prying eyes.
He knew your reservations and chuckled. "It's a private.. beach.. Y/n." He teeth grazed your hip bone before he glanced up at you. "Baby doll.. look at me." You felt his nails dig into your inner thighs begging for attention.
No one was around. You had to trust him. You looked down and all you saw was a kaleidoscope of green staring at you with utter devotion. From Joker's perspective all he saw was a goddess bathed in light, blessing him with everything and nothing.
"You're the light. My.. light. Mine. So beautiful and all mine." He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder and tugged your panties down with his teeth.
He had to be high or something. Maybe his dinner was spiked because there was no other explanation for Joker's sudden behavior. He was acting like a sinner reborn between your legs and kept chanting your name along with variants of 'his Light' in between hot, airy moans.
You had seconds to grab ahold of Joker's shoulders before he sucked your clit like a man starved. It took every ounce of your strength to stay upright as Joker worshiped your body and doused your soul in desire.
As the dark ocean waves crashed against the shore; so did you in like manner.
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Flashbacks from the night danced across your mind as steady, lulling arms carried you into the house.
You were in and out of consciousness, between the past and the present, but you could still see a pair of eyes darker than pine hovering above you. The urge to touch, to feel his skin pressed against yours outweighed the fact he was pining your wrist into the sand.
Indescribable pleasure possessed your body and your lover's grip tightened as a result. Over the roaring waves you could hear his broken voice straining in your ear, desperately pleading with you to understand his decree.
"My light, all mine.. You... you complete me.."
You prayed he was telling the truth.
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Joker pushed the bedroom door open with his foot, mindful not to jostle you too much and wake you up.
You were out for the count yet you never looked more breathtaking. Cheeks still flush from your orgasm and hair askew, his eyes roamed your features as he gently laid you down on the bed.
Joker could admit that he went overboard this time but something in the air clouded his senses and he couldn't stop once he started. You tasted so sweet and your screams of pleasure were like music to his ears. He took great care not to ruin your dress, (he loved it wayy too much) and used it as a blanket of sorts against the grainy sand. You were too precious to damage, he knew that now.
Something changed between you and Joker on that beach. Something catastrophic.
Joker made sure you were tucked into bed and this time, he remembered to put your bonnet on but found himself tracing your parted lips with his thumb.
He drew back when you moaned his name in your sleep. Your hot breath on his skin stirred up his desire for you again. He chose to creep away to make a phone call and allow you to rest. The original plan was to spend the night here and fly back to Gotham the following morning, but after his.. revelation, he couldn't leave. Not now.
There were things that needed to be addressed here. Joker couldn't leave until you and him talked it out. No more running away. He had to redraw his boundaries and reset his ground rules with you in the equation. And that would take some time.
The phone picked up on the third ring and for once Joker let Frost speak first. "Did something happen?"
"No. You see, there's been a uh... change of plansss. Keep the others from, uhh, killing each other? I'll be back on Monday."
Frost began pitching a fit right as Joker hung the phone and turned it off for good measure.
Frost could hold things down for three days. This would be the perfect exercise to test Frost's leadership skills! Joker considered it a vacation, long overdue.
Once his contact with the outside world was officially cut off, Joker stripped down bare and crawled into bed with his ray of Light.
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wyrmfedgrave · 4 months
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Pics: Celebrating Lovecraftian folks & places.
1 & 2. General guides to Howard's monstrous world of alien things & their victims.
3. Is this a reflex creation to Batman's HPL inspired Arkham Asylum?
The only Arkham institution that I still remember is Arkham University!
4. Truly weird 'living' wall?
Interestingly enough, DC's New Gods' world space has a similar creation.
The Source Wall, that imprisoned a lot of power hungry Gods (in an immobile stasis) from crossing the final frontier to - ?!!
Though at least 1 God from Apokalips did break out - Darkseid's dad!! - for a short while.
Darkseid himself would later accomplish this same deed.
5. Ahh... Innsmouth, perhaps HPL's most famous cityscape...
Certainly 1 of the most 'visited' by later writers.
6 & 7. Want a vacay suggestion?
Well, don't visit this part of the Antarctic continent.
Unless you like being a lab subject...
Addendum: Letter of Comment 2.
Having given his opinion on Tarzan & the Mars series of E.R. Burroughs, Lovecraft turned his attention to other pulp writers.
Howard also criticized the magazine itself!
And, managed to shoehorn the KKK into a letter of literary criticism...
"W.P. White('s) Sands of Life... shows... the very spirit of the Spanish Main (in a story) worthy of... publication as a book."
In the domain of the weird & bizarre, L. Robinet... furnished us (with) The 2nd Man. (With an) atmosphere (that's) sustained thruout (a) story of (a) 2nd Eden - (whose) exact location (remains undisclosed)..."
"I... hope... you added P.P. Sheehan... to your staff, for... I have seen his work elsewhere & was... captivated by (his) grim short story... "His Ancestor's Head."
"W.T. Eldridge set... a (high) standard for himself in "The Forest Reaper." It seems... a pity for him to (also) be the author of "The Tormentor" & "Cowards All."
"W.L. Curtiss tells (the) homely yet exciting... tale which experts upon the reader a curious fascination - "Shanty House."
"D.F. McGrew, 1 of the 'red blooded' school of writers, describes the Philippine(s)... & the army there, with an ease of long residence (&) military service on the scene..."
"I hardly need mention... "A Columbus of Space" further than to say that I have... every published work by G.P. Serviss(, a noted astronomer)."
"The merry crew of humorous writers, such as T. Bell, J. Brandt, F. Condon & D.A. Khan, though light & sometimes silly, are... distinctly amusing."
"Khan is especially clever in drawing (out) the characters of callow college youths."
"I hesitate to criticize... such an excellent magazine, but since my censure falls upon so small a part of it, I think I may express myself... without giving offense."
"I fear that a faint shadow from the black cloud of vileness now darkening our literature, has lately fallen upon a few pages of The All-Story."
"The Souls of Men" by M.M. Stanley was (a) disagreeable tale, but "Pilgrims of Love" by De Lysle Ferre is... disgusting (&) nauseating."
"Mr. G.W.S. of Chicago has written that Cass "diplomatically handles a very difficult subject - Oriental Love."
"We do not care for subjects so... allied to vulgarity... We prefer a more idealized Orient to read about... As in the beautiful romance of Prince Imbecile by C.M. Savage or The Invisible Empire by S. Chalmers."
"Speaking of the last novel, is not (it's) title somewhat misleading? In the U.S. the... "Invisible Empire" is... associated with (the) 'noble' but... 'maligned' Southerners who protected their homes against the diabolical... freed Blacks & Northern adventurers... just after the Civil War - the dreaded Ku-Klux-Klan."
"The... editorial policy... is making (The All-Story) of note (in a) merely local American publication."
"But, a bond of common interest between the... various British colonies cannot too heartily be commended."
"... We are all Englishmen & need... a leveler of political barriers... to remind us of our common origin. Let the London reader reflect, that... nearly everywhere else, his racial kindred are perusing the same stirring stories that delight them."
"America may have 'withdrawn' from the British government, but thanks to such magazines..., (the U.S.) must re- main an... important part of the great universal empire of British thought & literature."
"... The All-Story Magazine... stands alone in its class,... (&) I hold this publication in the highest esteem... Deriving much pleasure from its pages. What I... said in criticism (was done) with friendly intent believing that... humble opinions... may prove... acceptable to you."
"But, (before) I grow more tedious..., let me close this... (long letter) with the best wishes for the future of The All-Story..."
Comments:
1. This letter seems to be a little known piece by the Great Olde Writer which gives us a glimpse of HPL - as an early fan of the genre that he would later revolutionize.
Letters such as his encouraged the Munsey chain to continue printing these 'different' kind of stories.
All this literary activity would lead to the founding of Weird Tales 9 years later.
Lovecraft would never know that, 1 day, his own ability - as a Weird Tales author! - would outrank the men that he was now praising...
2. Lovecraft was familiar with ERB's works - enough for it to influence him as a writer.
Howard must have been impressed by Burroughs' Pellucidar stories - as they appeared in All-Story.
They are a likely source of 1 of his main themes - that Man wasn't the 1st intelligent ruler of the Earth.
Nor was Man likely to retain his dominant position in the future.
Lovecraft liked to confront his human characters with aliens far more powerful & intelligent than Man - emphasizing human inferiority.
Many of HPL's recurring elements are similar to 1s used thruout Burroughs' works - especially in the Pellucidar tales.
Such as Howard's lizard race, the subterranean tunnels, an eternal day in the Earth's interior, ancient cities, prehistoric creatures, the superior "Old Ones" (winged web-footed scholars) who control "Shoggoths" & use men as cattle...
Other clues concern Randolph Carter having an out-of-body experience in a mystical cave, a British nobleman who's the descendant of apes & a white African civilization, advanced earth drilling machines, cavern tunnels & a multitude of fantasy worlds all have ties back to ERB.
Burroughs was a major influence on the popular cultures of fantasy & sci-fi for most of the last century & his legacy was a springboard for the tales that only Lovecraft could write.
(< ERBzine 1137: "Lovecraft, a Burroughs Fan.")
End.
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argentumcor · 6 months
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Reasons I Think Gotham Knights Started Out as an Arkham Knight Sequel at Some Point
It clearly isn't an Arkhamverse game. For one, the tone is that of a contemporary Young Adult novel...or a CW show, like one maybe called Gotham Knights. The Arkhamverse is BTAS with a higher rating. But there's a lot of reason to think the concept started out as a sequel to Arkham Knight game somewhere.
I'm not watching any of the marketing stuff about this because games marketing is full of it and cannot be trusted. This is stuff about the game itself. Spoilers ahead.
I'll get to the list, but I'll start by pointing out that the Batfam is niche while Batman has much broader recognition and, yes, appeal (not the 'brainwash son with fear toxin for his own good' comics Batman, I mean the movie, cartoon, and game Batman). Triple-A titles are very expensive endeavors and there is no reason to pour that cash into a title about a niche set of side characters instead of the very popular main character...unless that title is a part of a very successful and popular game series. We know that Suicide Squad Kill the Justice League is only part of the Arkhamverse as a marketing tactic, the same reason all the characterizations line up more with the Suicide Squad movies than with the Arkham ones. Selling the Gotham Knights concept as a follow-on to the Arkham games was probably a viable way to get the project off the ground. What happened from there? I have guesses and I'll get to them.
After that, there is:
The cast. We've got Dick, Jason, Tim, and Barbara. That's the Batfam from the end of Arkham Knight, but not the Batfam that makes the most sense necessarily; Orphan instead of one of the boys (Jason, probably, grumble) would even out the sex ratio and she'd fit in with the story. But if this started as a sequel to AK, this would be your cast.
The way Jason feels like everyone treats him like he's a bomb about go off despite the fact they don't. It seems like Jason's recently back, but everyone seems to be trying hard to include him and there's no sign of what he complains about. A post-AK Jason, though, would be very much treated like that because of the whole...alliance with Scarecrow, fear toxin, invasion thing.
Freeze seems to have lost Nora and is on a nihilistic rampage. We know that Nora is dying after In From the Cold. While I prefer to assume Freeze left his suit and they died in each other's arms, because I'm a sap, her dying and him not could feasibly result in him doing what he does in GK. It's cynical as hell, but it's a not terrible way to bring him back as a villain. Normally, Nora is his main motivation and GK is the first time in a long time where she isn't, he just hates everything.
No Joker, no Two-Face, no Black Mask. Joker seems to be dead in GK as he is in Arkham. Tim fought Two-face in a DLC after he broke out of jail and committed quite a bit more crime, so he's probably still in, plus if they didn't want to revisit villains, he'd be written out. Jason killed Black Mask in his DLC and the name Sionis isn't even mentioned in GK.
Penguin is now an ex-con out and about. Penguin wasn't a direct fight in AK or a DLC, but Dick kept him from breaking out in another DLC, which meant he went to prison and could have served his time in total as he did in GK. He's also characterized as a crime lord instead of a kook like he was in the Arkham games.
Harley is around, starts out in jail, and is a villain. Harley was a monster in the Arkhamverse, a child-murderer and torturer. In GK, she's still terrible, if a temporary asset (not even ally) to the Batfam, and later tormenting and killing civilians for fun. It isn't very popular these days to have Harley just be evil even without the Joker, but GK did, just as the Arkhamverse did. At most she was to be pitied, but she was definitely a villain. You'd assume given GK's tone it would not go that way but it does without hesitation- one of the things I really like about it. She was very probably taken to jail after AK where she was originally captive in one of Batman's hideouts.
Batman is dead but not really/permanently. AS far as the Arkham Batfam knows at the end of AK, Bruce is dead. He isn't- if they ever found out, they would be so mad, because his plan is clearly not doing much for stopping crime in Gotham, as Tim and Barb have to leave their honeymoon to do that- but they think he is. If you were to do an Arkham GK, finding out Bruce isn't dead would be a rather major plot point...and in the GK we got, finding Bruce brought back to life is a rather major plot point.
Talia as major villain. AK hinted at Talia having been resurrected by the League and given the way the Pits are in that game- both in their mentally debilitating effects especially if impure and in the fact that Bruce destroys the last pure one in AK- her coming back crazy and evil would make total sense and be good setup for an Arkham GK main villain- especially if you wanted to have Damian as a plot point. Low and behold, Talia is the real big bad of GK, though it doesn't seem like she necessarily got resurrected.
I have no way of knowing if GK started out as an Arkham sequel and probably never will. I know Rocksteady did at least concept art of a Batman Beyond Arkham sequel that would use Damian in place of Terry, but obviously that didn't happen. I am assuming Rocksteady never touch GK at any point, but so many things line up that I feel like there was some outline or treatment for a Batfam Arkham game that got used to Gotham Knights.
It may have been that WB wanted this game to be used to market that ridiculous CW show of the same name, or vice versa, but that seems insane. The demographics for the two don't have that much crossover. The content is only alike in tone and that Batman dies at the start. But it is a boneheaded ivory tower executive sort of decision to make.
Honesty, looking at GK and at its marketing and at the way its budget seemed to be allocated- I think Jason's model rig is just Bruce's, kind of cheap to do for two major characters you see a lot of- it's almost like it got a pity greenlight. It's so odd to have two games, Gotham Knights and Suicide Squad: Kill the Justice League, both about Batman adjacent characters, with the same basic gameplay loop even, come out within a year or so of each other.
I don't like Gotham Knights, I don't like the art style, I don't like the way most everyone interacts and how...sanitized and therapy talk and 'relevant issues' much of the writing is... but it has all these little disconnects between that kind of writing and other parts that line up more with the Arkham games that it's bizarre, like someone took the superstructure of an Arkham Batfam game and stuck this brightly colored marshmallow thing around it to make the Gotham Knights we got. It's cool if you like it, it's not my kind of thing, no hard feelings, etc.- I come from the days of the old internet, when you could do say stuff like that and then admire that awesome Mora Jason Todd cover together. I do find the weird links between Gotham Knights and the Arkhamverse fascinatingly bizarre though.
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maxwell-grant · 3 years
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Speaking of Tod Slaughter... any thoughts on Grand Guignol theater..?
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Looking back on it, the first time I encountered the term Grand-Guignol was also the first time I looked at Fantomas, when I picked up the book above titled The Theater of Grand Guignol, which is all too fitting as Fantomas is Grand-Guignol to it's core. It's also a term that I've seen applied a couple of times to The Spider as well as some darker fan reinterpretations of Batman. Like film noir and sword-and-sorcery, it's a term for a type of storytelling that's associated with dime novels and pulps, influenced and was influenced by them in return, but isn't really the same thing and is, in fact, a separate "genre" (not quite the right term).
Indeed, if the common cultural association of pulp is that of something trashy and violent and darker than it's contemporary culture, one can see Grand-Guignol as perhaps the darkest of it's adjecent family, the Dario Argento to pulp's John Carpenter, the cracked mirror to all that exists.
Short and full-length plays were based on the hot topics unseen onstage at this extent before, from graphic scenes of murders, tortures, sexual violence to psychological thrills like resurrections of the dead, incest, suicide, characters being hypnotized, trapped or guilty of their loved one’s deaths. In most cases, it was a combination of several of those themes in one piece, which of course, multiplied shows’ popularity - AngryFishTheatre's article
‘At one performance, six people passed out when an actress, whose eyeball was just gouged out, re-entered the stage, revealing a gooey, blood-encrusted hole in her skull. Backstage, the actors themselves calculated their success according to the evening’s faintings. During one play that ended with a realistic blood transfusion, a record was set: fifteen playgoers had lost consciousness. Between sketches, the cobble-stoned alley outside the theatre was frequented by hyperventilating couples and vomiting individuals.’
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Despite of its scandalous nature, for France Grand Guignol was more than a theatre: it was a tradition, an institution, and an attraction like the Eiffel Tower or the Folies Bergères, and Maxim’s... It was then highly fashionable. Celebrities of the day, South American millionaires and errant royalty went there assiduously to be scared out of their wits.
Going to the Grand-Guignol was less a social act than a private one and certain audience members preferred not to be seen. Some witnesses reported that the iron-grilled boxes in the back of the theater encouraged a certain ‘extremism.’
The cleaning staff would often find the seats stained - — Mel Gordon, The Grand Guignol: theatre of fear and terror.
It lasted almost the exact same time period as the American pulp era (from the late 1880s to 1950s), and even in it's origin, as the theater itself was built out of the ruins of a church, and it would attain fame and legacy as the shadow opposite to Moulin Rouge's glamour and spectacle. It's original intent on being focused on naturalistic theater led to breakthroughs of horror that made it the whole selling point, and much like the pulp lords of terror I talk about, their staged and spectacled terrors were still no match for the horrors of reality that followed.
“We could never equal Buchenwald,” the Grand Guignol’s final director, Charles Nonon, told TIME magazine that year. “Before the war, everyone felt that what was happening onstage was impossible. Now we know that these things, and worse, are possible in reality.”
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And of course it goes without saying that the Grand-Guignol's influence on storytellers long transcended it's original lifespan. Gore for gore's sake is hardly something I enjoy, but I've definitely enjoyed many, many films that reached to extremes of horror and violence and gore for horror and comedy alike. I would not claim the Grand-Guignol started this because I could very well be missing out on something, but they are undeniably a huge part of the history of horror as we know it, along with the German Expressionist works of the 1910s that were as well both inspired by, as well as influential, on the Grand-Guignol.
Time and time again we see the pattern emerge, of creators or outlets or mediums that emerge as cheaper and less critically-reputable alternatives to the mainstream attain extraordinary and influential success both in their circles as well as those who would never admit to looking at them for inspiration otherwise. In fact, you could very well argue that it’s alive not just through films and comics and so forth, but in newfound forms of media created by people with all the freedom to put together whatever their imaginations and limited resources and lack of restraints can create.
Like Youtube Poop.
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Now maybe I'm biased here because I grew up with YTP, but really, the main intent behind every YTP is to twist the media it's using to provoke a new reaction from you, every YTP is varying levels of a rollercoaster of jokes and edits and little narratives stacking up and flowing together, references and poop jokes and murder jokes and slurs and parody and criticism and SuS and literally anything the creator thinks is gonna get a reaction that wasn't in the original material. And it doesn't even have to be exclusively about jokes, there's a lot of YTPs that are centered on horror or drama or even are just completely original narratives using the assets at hand, sometimes even clocking in at almost movie-length.
There's no filter or censors or teams making sure it's tested to the audience, it's just as much chaos as someone with video editing skills can manage to create, and more so than anything else nowadays, it's the medium that abides and amplifies the same principle that ruled and defined Grand-Guignol: "The Hot and Cold Shower"
Grand Guignol, was not the inventor of this concept, but probably the first performing arts company that used it as its main programming principle. Every evening at the theatre was programmed with plays heavily contrasting in their nature. In the 6 plays presented on a regular night, every 2 horror plays were followed by a light comedy and the light comedy by another horror play or two. Using this contrast the creators aimed to give their audiences a fuller range of emotions. They called it a "hot and cold shower".
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You could also make a similar argument for creators that used Garry's Mod or Source Filmmaker to create Youtube content, many of whom either followed the styles of YTP or created their own which ended up influencing others in return, and you can definitely see how YTP as well as these have influenced our current generation's taste in comedy as well as the editing styles of many prominent creators. It even seemed for quite a while that GMOD and SFM content of this type was dead, but it definitely seems like it's gotten a revival recently, and really just never went away. Likewise, a lot of people think YTP died circa 2012 or 2015, which is completely false, it just changed a bit, as things tend to do if they are to stick around.
The entire approach of extreme hot and cold, extreme horror and comedy shuffling per second and extreme absurdity overriding is something you definitely get nowadays a lot more out of these newer forms of media than anything that film and television's capable of giving, and just as Grand-Guignol started out relatively ordinary (focused mainly on naturalistic horror) before it completely spiraled into a perpetual race for excess, we've gotten so desensitized so quickly to surprises that you can see in real time the growing needs for content that's faster and more chaotic and funnier and more dramatic and more absurd and more well-produced but also worse produced and, yeah.
I definitely wonder how we may see future filmmakers and cartoonists and creators be influenced by, not just the above, but also the rapidly changing landscapes of meme culture and social media and the gradually less-funny theater of the absurd that reality's become. I definitely imagine we'll be in for some interesting times.
Y'know, if we make it that far.
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Alternatively you could also argue Jackass is also a modern Grand Guignol and they just cut out the narrative middleman to get straight to the "people getting fucked up for your amusement" part, but at this point I'd just be inviting a retread of all the "Is -X- pulp" questions I got for "Is -X- Grand Guignol", and I may have stepped straight into a rake with this one.
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Why I Like Superman
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This is a post I’ve been going over and over in my head, trying to suss out my feelings. The simple fact is I love Superman, and I have for as long as I can remember. I wore Superman pajamas as a kid. I watched cartoons like Superman: The Animated Series, Justice League, Legion of Superheroes, and was hyped as hell when he showed up on The Batman cartoon. I drew variations of the S-shield all over the sides of my school notebooks, and I tied a towel around my neck and pretended I could fly.
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One of my favorite Xbox games to play was the Superman Returns tie-in game (remember those?), because it was the only game I could play that let me fly around, shooting off heat vision and freezing people with arctic breath. I still remember the opening that had you destroy asteroids, and being absolutely wowed as a kid by the big finale which had you slam into the largest asteroid at supersonic speed to destroy it. Took me forever to beat the Warworld arena level though because I didn’t know how to block.
Because there were no local comic shops near my home for me to go buy issues at (not that I even knew what a local comic shop was at the time), I kept up with his, and the rest of my favorite DC heroes adventures, via reading the DC wiki. I spent so much of my time waiting for my mom to get off the computer so I could go online and catch up that my parents installed parental blocks because they were worried about what I was doing.
In short he’s been a constant favorite of mine throughout childhood, through my teenage years, and straight on into adulthood. I never developed the dislike or distaste for him that some people did, and he never dropped out of the top spot for me like he did for others. There were times when he shared the top spot for me with Batman and Spider-Man, until One More Day wrecked my relationship with Spidey and I grew bored of the endless cycles of Batman being a dick to the Batfamily and then learning he needs them. But even throughout his lowest points (and God have there been so many of those in the last decade), he’s remained the top guy for me.
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But why? I think it’s in part because of the type of genre he embodies. He is of course The Superhero, and he lives in the genre he founded, but he also lives in a type of optimistic science fiction genre that’s downright extinct nowadays. As a kid I was a massive science fiction fan, and my dad was friends with a guy who was also hugely into science fiction. This guy had a basement full of science fiction books written from the Golden Age of Science Fiction, up until the cyberpunk era kicked off in the 1980s. He was happy to hand novels off to me, and his private library beat the hell out of our public one. I devoured stories of fearless heroes in space exploring new worlds, first contact with alien races, mindbending new technologies that seemed like magic, about transcending our mortal flesh and becoming part of a universal, transcendental whole, stories that didn’t just talk about technology but about the human condition. Stories that while sometimes bleak, painted a positive picture of the human ability to overcome our inherent flaws and be a powerful force for good. And ultimately Superman speaks from the same source.
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It’s not just about the powers, although those who completely dismiss their appeal are making a mistake I believe. It’s about humanity, about our ability to transcend our base natures, reflected in this Strange Visitor from Another Planet, who embodies our virtues and our vices, who is torn between the fear of doing too much and the fear of doing too little. Who hides his true self behind a pair of glasses because he craves the fellowship of humanity more than any amount of glory or riches. His no-kill rule a firm affirmation of the value of life, all life everywhere no matter it’s form. His greatest love, Lois Lane, is his co-worker and greatest rival as a reporter, who has everyone’s number in her phone, be they crime lord or living saint. His greatest friend, Jimmy Olsen, is the guy everyone else ignores or bosses around, but is a rich kid weirdo who gets up to all sorts of bizarre adventures that keep the Daily Planet afloat. His childhood friends are superheroes from the future, his home City of Metropolis is 10 years ahead of everyone else in terms of technology, his dog can shatter concrete via barking at it, his home den is a ice crystal castle situated at the North Pole, like Santa’s Workshop. In short his life is one where even the mundane corners hide fantastical attributes. By living among us, he helps to elevate us, to make our daily grind interesting by seeing through the lens of his life. As others have said, we walk our dogs around the block, he walks his around the solar system.
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But it would be a mistake to assume that Superman doesn’t tackle the darker sides of life too. Even the most optimistic sci-fi novels that I read as a kid had dystopic elements in them, intended or not. His home planet of Krypton was our technological superior, yet ignored the warnings of it’s chief scientist, and died a victim of it’s own greed and arrogance with Kal-El as the Last Son. His birth parents died in the fires of self-perpetuated genocide, his adopted parents the Kents often fall to mundane heart diseases or accidents, which even his power can not save them from. His greatest enemy Lex Luthor, is the one person who can understand his loneliness, his need for the public’s approval and acceptance, and yet the shared enmity between the two has ruined any chance of them forming a friendship that could have been. The shining City of Metropolis venerates Luthor as well as Clark, reflecting the greed, selfishness, and callousness of it’s other favorite child. Suicide Slum stands as a testament to the limits of how much Superman can improve life. The Phantom Zone is a spinechilling example of the inhumane treatment of prisoners. His foes ran the gauntlet from greedy businessmen out for money at any cost, to victims who have suffered at humanity’s hands and seek revenge, to sociopaths who treat other peoples pain and lives as a source of amusement, to murderers who care not from where the blood flows, only that it does, to tyrants who seek to crush all resistance underneath their heel, to gods who wish the elimination of free will itself. Each of them force Superman to confront the fallibility of human nature and wrestle with whether or not his faith in both them and himself is justified.
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In a sentence? I love Superman because he’s a character you can do almost anything with, from comedic hijinks, to serious dramas, to distributing horror stories, to exciting adventure stories. He reminds me of the best type of science fiction stories, ones that explore people and existence from all sorts of angles, that never lose sight of the emotional human core at the heart of all the high concept existential concepts. He’s made me laugh, cry, think, get motivated, get angry, and sometimes just get writing. He brings the big ideas and the human emotions that keep me reading comics throughout all the Big 2′s bullshit. He still believes in the human capacity for good, in spite of our flaws, in spite of how few of us seem to believe in that capacity ourselves, and he shows us that it’s still there by touching our hearts through his stories. That’s why I like Superman, and why he’s my favorite superhero.
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Writebr Intro
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Writeblr Intro Time!
Hiya! This is so overdue and I apologize for that lol. I’ve been meaning to write this but school seems to always be getting in the way of just that. Writing. But here I am finally writing this! And yes my username is a pun of my own last name but I just couldn’t resist.
So basically, I really want to surround myself with other writers and have stumbled across tons of writeblr’s (I think that’s what they’re called lol). Instantly I was in love and wanted more of what the community had to offer. I’ve been a self-proclaimed “author” or writer since my early years of grade school. I was that child in the back of the class with ADHD that couldn’t sit still (the cliche bouncing leg and always chewed down nails) and had what my mother called an “overactive imagination”. My notebooks in high school were often filled with wild stories about “galaxies far far away” or dystopias with cruel governments ruled by dictators. Now I’m in my second year of college swamped with classes about the Psychology of criminals (or I like to call the science of murder), and trying to find time to write a novel. So the struggle is real my dudes.
A little about Me:
Hana
20
She/Her
Pisces
Asexual
Forensic Psychology Major and English with a concentration in Writing Minor
Book hoarder
Dog Mom
Vintage AF
Low Key Emo Punk because I’m no average white girl!
History nerd (Love learning about the old wars and cultures)
Movie nerd (There’s an endless stack of DVDs in my house)
Fandoms:
The Mandolorian (or the ManDADolorian)
Star Trek
Star Wars
Hannibal
X-Files
King Falls Am
Welcome to Nightvale
Transformers (Obviously not the bad movies lol. Bumblebee is baby and must be protected always.)
Good Omens
Sherlock
Lord of the Rings
Marvel (There are so many shows and movies in this category we would be here all day if I tried to list them.)
Timeless (Not sure if the fandom is still alive after what the writers did to one of our ships lol)
DC (I’m a huge Batman geek and adore Wonderwoman, but I take the good with the bad when it comes to this fandom. Especially movie-wise anymore.)
And there’s probably more but my memory isn’t working currently.
Goals?. . . maybe:
Get my novel finished (This has literally been on my To-Do List for who knows how long.)
Meet more writers/new writers.
Improve my poetry (I suck at poetry so I bad I never let it see the light of day, so I need to work on it.)
Start my bullet journal.
Wips:
Okay by now you all know I have at least 1 Wip because I mentioned getting a freaking novel done, but just as a precaution as to what I mean by Wip or Wips. I get distracted quite easily, for some odd reason my brain absolutely loves to jump from one idea to another for no absolute reason. Like WTF dude we already have an idea we’re working on why do you keep bringing all these new ones to me like stray dogs. And like any good dog Mom or distracted writer, I want to keep all the ideas/stray dogs. So, when I say Wip I mean “Look at this cool idea I came up with” and I’ll make sure to specify which one is hogging most of my time.
Renegade: Dystopian, Thriller, Post-Apocalypse, and Science Fiction.
This is my baby. Most of my free time is dedicated to adjusting plotlines, character arc’s, fixing freaking plot holes, and other important stuff other than just plain writing. I’m hoping to finish this also monster of a story by 2020 and get it published. So big stuff!  
“So tell me little wolf do you want to punish those who have wronged you?” An assassin known as the Crimson Ghost makes their way through the corrupt city-state of Ashton completing a job given to them by the Black Rose. What is a seemingly normal job though turns into something far more complicated when they stumble upon the fractions of an abandoned notebook from the past. A past the Republic is trying to desperately hide and bury no matter what. On the other side of the world in the Republic’s capital Eshar, plainly referred to as “The Prodigy” or “machine” by his superiors,  Eric Coalwood has built a life upon the ashes of his family, striving to meet the high expectations set before him by his mentor General Wolfheart. However, his life falls out of its normal day to day routine when the unexpected is asked of him. Command a task force made up of the Republic’s most wanted or his life is over. Eric doesn’t need reasons for why he must do what he has to, all he needs are orders and the Republic is more than happy to give them. Either way the clock is ticking for both the Crimson Ghost and the Republic’s prodigy and with time running out they both have two options. Either get over their different beliefs concerning the Republic or allow the world to once again succumb to war but this time nobody is going to survive it. “Legends are slippery things. For the glory that coats them hides the pain, suffering and death that created them.”
The Trouville Files: Dystopian, Thriller, Post-Apocalypse, and Science Fiction.
Not my biggest priority but definitely one of them considering the plot of this story. I mainly use this wip as a reference for Renegade because it’s actually the prequel to it. Also, it’s great to use as writing practice when I’m plagued with writer’s block for Renegade or frustrated with a plot hole. So this is my double-edged sword that does a lot of good.
“Death in these black days is neither kind nor quick.” The year is 2153, the world we know is nothing more than a wasteland strewn with the dead and a sky being choked by their ashes, not glorious and thriving but desolate and starving. The Red Death, a pandemic with a steady progression and a gruesome countdown to the demise of those infected. No one outruns it or survives it. “United we stand, divided we fall.” The Allied Nations, a totalitarian superpower, promised a united people but all they gave this world was more death and destruction. The Red Death isn’t the only thing slowly killing humanity anymore, we are in the form of the War of Broken Pacts. The spark of revolution is lit, but if it will remain so is a question asked by everyone. Does it stand a chance against the iron-fisted government holding the people in shackles? “Rebel with a cause.” Genius Medical Officer for The People’s Republic, Cyprus Ramiro works day and night in search of a cure for the Red Death exterminating hundreds, at least before this war kills him first. But he is also a man on the run and the rebellion can only shelter him for so long. “Duty over pain.” Cunning Spy and Soldier, Orion Ultor is ordered by the Allied Nations to infiltrate and gather information on the ever-growing People’s Republic. In bold letters is Search and Destroy; make a ruin of the rebellion and ensure the Allied Nations remains as it should -- unquestionably in power. No matter the cost unless he wants to suffer the consequences again. “If we fall we shall rise from the ashes like a phoenix.” They should have never met, battlefields don't make good friends. It wasn't fate, it wasn't destiny, only war throwing people together.  The Allied Nations is trying to stamp out something they fear, but can they before the Red Plague? Or will humanity find itself extinct.
Beyond his point is where I house my stray dogs/ideas
Hiraeth: Paranormal, Horror, Mystery, and Thriller.
Scooby-doo who?
Hiraeth means a homesickness for a home which you cannot return. That is how Arcane feels like she’ll never be home no matter how hard she tries to connect with her family. The closest she feels to being home is with her friends and in the worn leather seats of the van they all pitched in to buy. It all started out as a way to pass time and for all of them to escape their families because to be honest parents never understand, but it all turned sideways when a simple “ghost hunting trip” stirred something that was meant to remain buried. The truth never remains buried though, not really, somehow it will always creep back in ugly and twisted. Arcane has never felt “at home” but she’ll do whatever it takes to keep what she considers her family safe.
Sweet Dreams: Historical Fiction, Thriller, and Romance.
A literal dream turned into story plot and no I’m not kidding.
The Red String of Fate, The Lovers, and War. These are the three elements intertwined within the plot of Sweet Dreams but before anyone makes any assumptions this isn’t some chummy rom-com. There will be tears and heart strings may get yanked clean out because the angst is real. War and love never mix well, it leaves a sour taste in ones mouth and makes the mind question things it shouldn’t. Like is the woman in his dreams the same woman he sees in all his dreams? Constantly he somehow ends up spotting that same ruby red lipstick, honey golden eyes, and brunette hair laying in perfect curls. She’s everywhere except in his actual life. They say you and your soulmate share dreams, living proof of how intertwined souls are. She doesn’t believe in love or the idea of souls, not with the monsters roaming around the countryside and battlefield carrying assault rifles. Society tells her where her place is, but she disagrees and rather create her own destiny.
The Prophet: Paranormal, Thriller, Post-Apocalypse, and Science Fiction.  
A short story I can’t seem to let go or it doesn’t want to let me go, but either way, this story has the makings for something great. It also at times seems strikingly similar to Good Omens, so don’t be surprised.
There’s no anti-christ in this story, he already has a book about himself so let’s not make another one besides there are other stories that need to be told. Such as, have you ever heard of modern day prophets and I’m not talking about those people with cardboard signs saying “the end is near!” or giant churches with people preaching about the end times. No, I’m talking about a kid with messy hair and dark circles under their eyes because sleep is no longer a choice due to migraines that plague them every night. Migraines that bring weird cryptic messages that make one question their own sanity. And what happens when strange people start asking about said migraines and messages?
Virago: Fantasy, Thriller, Historical Fiction, and Romance.
I’m not a huge fantasy reader, for some reason I can’t stay invested in them, but here I am with a fantasy story in my wips. It has mages, knights, assasination plots, and one super badass general who takes zero shit from her king. That’s right women empowerment, my dudes! I don’t really have much of a synopsis inline or a plot because this is only of those wips I let rattle around in my brain from time to time. But I will say it does give me that LOTR vibe but also Game of Thrones.  
Don’t be surprised if you see my stray doggos from time to time because I will admit I love to play around with storyboards. Even if I don’t have a fully planned out plot put together for it.
And that concludes this what was supposed to be short Writeblr Intro. I hope I have peaked some of your guys’ interests because the community definitely got a hold of minee. Feel free to send me a message about anything I mentioned (even if it’s just fandom shit I don’t care) and don’t be shy. I’m a huge introvert but somehow love talking, so don’t worry it won’t be awkward and odds are I’m equally nervous about conversation lol. Also, feel free to add me to any taglist and reblog/like if you’re active and would like more Writeblr mutuals!
Happy Writing,
Writings-from-the-Hart
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ty-talks-comics · 5 years
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Best of DC: Week of September 25th, 2019
Best of this Week: Harleen #1 - Stjepan Šejić and Gabriela Downie
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Hindsight is 20/20.
Looking back through the history of Harley Quinn, you’d be a fool to think that she hasn’t taken a strong look back at her life before she became the psychotic Clown Princess of Crime at The Joker’s side. We’ve seen the story told many a time in movies, comics and cartoons, but there’s just something so inviting about the way Šejić presented this absolutely tragic origin story, at least for the first issue. As Harleen describes it, "it felt like one of those cheesy romance novels."
Harleen separates itself from the other Harley Quinn origin stories by taking that cheesy romance and turning it into a long form car wreck centered entirely around Dr. Quinzel’s point of view and her early interactions with The Joker and the other criminals of Arkham Asylum. If I had to level a complaint at the book, it would have to be that, at least initially, everything is quite flowery and light. To counteract that point, it makes sense for the story to be told in this manner to show the often manipulative nature of abusive relationships like Harley Quinn’s and how ultimately, they don’t end well.
The book opens with Harleen in a dream sequence taking place in a distorted Gotham City. The style here is very reminiscent of Šejić’s work on Death Vigil with dark cityscapes, many shining lights and gothic imagery throughout. Dr. Quinzel walks down a winding road, expecting the same nightmare that she’s had many times before, but there’s something different about this particular dream. Instead of being eaten by an unknown monster, she’s met with the arrival of a bat monster and a pale man with green hair that’s being attacked by him and she chooses to intervene, smiling back at the pale man as he smiles at her. With the narration of this book, it’s easy to assume that this dream sequence takes place a little while after her relationship with the Joker is fully formed as she even acknowledges that smiling back was the biggest mistake of her life.
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We get a beautiful page of Joker and Harley dancing and looking happy with each other as Harley’s future transformation occurs in the panels behind them. As beautiful as these shots are, the way that Šejić draws these panels, looking like glass shattering in the background is very telling of what we’re to expect in these future issues. Things transition to a little bit before Harleen meets Joker for the first time as she interviews a veteran who tells her about his “one bad day.” He describes how he and one of his Battle Buddies had each other’s backs until the other guy got his throat slit by a woman in a local bar during their deployment. The veteran describes how he just snapped in that moment and we have something that will be called back to in later pages.
A few years later, Doctor Quinzel presents her interview and findings to a Scientific Symposium in Gotham and it appears to be going badly. She shows her research notes and tells the crowd that the veteran then shot up a hospital full of injured kids and that her research, if implemented, would help decrease the recidivism rate of crime in Gotham by identifying what exactly made them go bad in the first place. She starts to flub her words and get nervous as some in the crowd check their watches, look disinterested or just leave altogether.
Harleen and her friend Shondra go to get drinks and talk about how the good doctor thought she nuked her presentation, they leave separately and it's almost as if fate was just waiting to kick down the door when an explosion rings out and Harleen faces down the barrel of The Joker's gun.
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This moment is when I fell in love with this book. In a beautiful double page spread, Harleen looks on in abject horror as The Joker aims his gun directly in her face with a wide, toothy grin. The most disturbing part of this is how he's framed as still being a sexy bad boy. He's tall, slim with medium length hair and gives off a sickening charm. He's very distinctly a Sějić Joker and his art style lends well to that. 
In an instant, however, he sets the entire tone for how their relationship will be in the future - threatening her life, but pulling back after seeing her face full of cold fear. In the background we see her life flash before her eyes. From her childhood of uncertain career choices, to her adulthood of being attracted to people that she's not supposed to be, like one of her professors and eventually her current job as a criminal psychologist.
Through this we see exactly what kind of roller coaster her life had been and how, from an early age she just wanted to help people. It's the very definition of "the road to hell is paved with good intentions" which is one of the central themes of this story.
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Joker let's her go after savoring her fear before he is stopped by the Batman. This action sequence is fairly standard Batman faire, but from Harleen's point of view it becomes something more. She is absolutely terrified, not just because she almost died, but because she's found herself interested and immersed in the Joker and Batman's struggle. Everything in her mind is telling her to run away, but as Batman catches an escaping Joker and pummels the tar out of him, she follows and can't look away.
She hears the others in the crowd and feels that there's something wrong. The panels are arranged into a deranged smile of blood as Batman holds Joker by his collar and the sounds of his punches are replaced with the rabid howls of bloodthirst. She feels a bit of sympathy and the agony of post trauma nightmares over the next few days. After coming in to work soon after, one of her bitchy coworkers asks who she slept with to "get it," and she soon finds out that her research has been funded by the Wayne Foundation as she is met by Lucius Fox. 
During their conversation we see more of her own pre-crisis personality come forth. Finding her nervous, insecure and initially unsure as to why she was called into her bosses office in the first place gives us perfect insight as to how the Joker will be able to manipulate her in the manner that he does. She not dumb or naive by any means, but she appears to lack a serious emotional strength. Sejic is good at writing characters like these as seen in his work on Sunstone and Switch and it gives her a good flaw in her personality.
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Fox tells her that she’ll soon be transferred to Arkham Asylum to talk to the worst that Gotham has to offer and this last third of the book is rife with on the nose symbolism. As soon as she arrives at Arkham, the shadow behind her morphs from Harleen Quinzel into the form of Harley Quinn and the shadow of Arkham's ominous gate sign becomes the perspective of someone on the inside looking out.
Within her first few days, she meets people that will be very close to her in the future such as Pamela Isley and Killer Croc to real headcases like Victor Zsasz and The Riddler. She's also met with the disrespect of having her name mispronounced numerous times by the Arkham staff, outright dismissal of her theories by Dr. Hugo Strange and pushback from Gotham District Attorney, Harvey Dent.
Harvey in particular is most interesting because of his firmness in his ideals. He doesn't believe there's any rehabilitation for the residents of Arkham and that they should be sent to Blackgate Penitentiary instead. Harleen is steadfast in her beliefs that there's more to each of these patients than simple violence and crime. Harvey notes that Arkham has a breakout rate so high that it might as well install a revolving door.
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Throughout their argument, half of Harvey’s face is covered in shadow, specifically the half that would later become the deranged side of Dent’s future alter ego, Two Face. This is intriguing because in many ways this meeting feels like a shakedown, a foreshadowing of the man that he would soon become. In one instance he remarks of the beauty of Gotham City and in the next he just flat out tells her what he wants, almost threateningly while rolling his coin over his fingers. His moralizing is betrayed by his furrowed brow and eyes of fury over the sheer thought of Gotham having criminals like Zsasz freed because lawyers blame his mental illness for his horrid actions. 
Harleen, infuriated that Dent would ask her to end her research and refuse the Wayne grant so smugly, found herself driven to conduct the one interview that she had been avoiding after going through the likes of Mad Hatter, Killer Croc and The Riddler. The night before her meeting with Harvey, Harleen had gone through all of the Joker’s interview tapes. One thing that stood out to her was Joker’s propensity to retell his “troubled” past in a variety of different ways, Šejić’s own take on the Multiple Choice origin story of the Clown. She felt mildly annoyed by how underwhelming they all were until she found a tape of Joker being arrested and him speaking the way that he did the night that they first met, saying that Gotham is full of civilized monsters and all they needed was a push to send them over the edge.
Just like the veteran in the beginning.
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Harley needed a full nights rest to get the courage to interview The Joker and tried a multitude of methods from horse tranquilizers, to a chiropractor, to just simple drinking, but it was Dent that gave her what she needed to go. When Joker and Harleen meet face to face again, he doesn’t recognize her until a sudden SLAM on the glass brings back her look of shock and terror, allowing the Joker to remember her. 
With their pleasantries exchanged, he asks her to refer to him as Jay and we jump into the inferno.
Stjepan Šejić is an amazing artist and writer with a knack for writing fun and silly characters. He can also delve into dak territories and themes when he needs to and while this issue is more comedic and funny, it does hide some very dark bits of story underneath. The best way to describe it would have to be...a calm before the storm. Everything in Harleen’s life is at a perfect place. She’s got the dream job that she’s wanted for her research, she’s found very interesting subjects and one in particular that might be the break that she’s been looking for. But we all know what’s on the horizon for her.
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The problem I can see people having with this is the common, “this story is going to glorify the abusive relationship between Joker and Harley!" I don't see it turning out that way. I think it's very clear to Dr. Quinzel and the reader that The Joker is wearing a mask. His charm is an ugly façade worn to hide the monster underneath, but she just can't turn away, especially since he's been the subject of her dark dreams for a while.
I think that the next issue will show just how the cupcake stage of their relationship with the dark underpinnings slowly transforms her from a reasonable psychologist into a sympathetic beauty that's found her beast. Šejić only showed us a small part of his writing and art powers and since the second issues of these Black Label books tend to be the best issues, I have no doubt that the next Harleen will be amazing. High recommend
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kolbisneat · 5 years
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MONTHLY MEDIA: October 2019
The spoooooooooookiest time of year is wrapping up but I’m not ready for it to go! Time to pop in A Nightmare before Christmas. Also this is how I spent the month of October.
……….FILM……….
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Hotel Transylvania (2012) & Hotel Transylvania 2 (2015) Both are fun movies with killer animation and those music/pop culture jokes that immediately date them. I wish these were a little more evergreen, but I do appreciate how much further the animation was pushed in the sequel. It also does the dance-number thing that I’m just too old for.
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Hocus Pocus (1993) It’s been yeeeeeeears since I watched this and I don’t hold much childhood fondness for it (Billy Butcherson was peak fear for me) so it was nice to find that this holds up well! The musical number, the animated cat, the jokes, they’re all far better than they have any right to be for a roughly 25 year old film. 
JOKER (2019) I’d read enough glowing and scathing reviews going into this that I really wasn’t expecting much. The cinematography and soundtrack are both excellent, and it really got the spirit of the character in the third act. It really did follow the origin story format and while it’s new to see this be applied to a villain, I’m not sure I needed it in my life. I also really just want a fun Batman movie, you know?
……….TELEVISION……….
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GLOW (Episode 3.04 to 3.10) Another fantastic season. It struck a good balance of tying up loose threads while still having a clear vision for the final season. Just such a good character drama. I’m interested to see if there’s more wrestling again next season, but I really wouldn’t mind either way.
American Horror Story: 1984 (Episode 9.01 to 9.06) Okay so I’m only half watching this while my partner watches it (I play my Switch beside her and accidentally look up at the goriest moments). The aesthetic is great and the music is fun. The plot also seems to be fairly coherent so far, even if I’m only half paying attention.
……….READING……….
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Tea With a Black Dragon by R. A. MacAvoy (Complete) I picked this up from a thrift store knowing very little about it. It was super light on fantasy but was a fun, albeit dated, technology-based mystery.
The Children’s Home by Charles Lambert (Complete) It’s tricky describing this book. It’s almost surreal and the story feels secondary to the prose. It’s not the type of novel I typically pick up but I’m glad I did. It follows a recluse as he takes in children that start appearing in and around his home. I think it’ll be one of those books that I didn’t love reading, but will stay with me for a long time. 
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The One Hundred Nights of Hero by Isabel Greenberg (Complete) Simply wonderful. The story follows two lovers and the stories one tells to protect the other. It’s romantic and heartbreaking and each short story has that fairytale vibe (charming yet full of danger). The art is equally fantastic and really I can’t recommend it enough. 
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: The IDW Collection Vol. 7 by Kevin Eastman, Bobby Curnow, Tom Waltz, and so many more (Complete) I think it would’ve been bold to wrap up the series after volume 6 but I understand the nature of the beast. With that said, I appreciate it took a little time to get to where it wants to go and it’s still a fun world. It also continues to really bog itself down with the plight of humans and I appreciate it grounds the world but ho boy are April’s family boring when compared to mutants, demons, and aliens.
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Paper Girls Vol. 4 & 5 by Brian K. Vaughan, Cliff Chiang, Matt Wilson, and Jared K. Fletcher (Complete) Reading two volumes in quicker succession turned out to be a good decision. If anything I’d recommend waiting until all 6 volumes are collected and read that, if you can. It’s been such a wild ride and I really hope they stick the landing in the end. Excellent so far and highly recommend.
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Superior Spider-Man Vol. 5 & 6 by Dan Slott, Ryan Stegman, Giuseppe Camuncoli, Humberto Ramos, and so many more (Complete) What a great series! The themes of the series are a little looser towards the end (in favour of a big, bombastic climax) but it still works. Or maybe it just doesn’t hit you over the head with it (there’s maybe one throwaway line by the main villain that ties it all together so it’s easy to miss). I’d love to see this collected as well and also recommend to any Spider-Fan with some established understanding of this world’s characters.
……….AUDIO……….
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Cavern of Secrets (Podcast) This has been on hiatus for years and now that it’s back, I realize how much I missed it. Solid interviews and having a Canadian host is always nice.
……….GAMING……….
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Maze of the Blue Medusa (Satyr Press) Oof we had a player get both arms crunched in an accident and it’s still affecting the group. As they delve deeper they’re discovering how dangerous the maze can truly be.
A Red & Pleasant Land (Lamentations of the Flame Princess) The group wandered into a settlement and had A LOT of questions answered. Like the last 10 sessions were a blur and suddenly it all came into sharp focus. I’m keen to see what happens next time.
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Curse of Strahd (Wizards of the Coast) The party is nearly out of this haunted house and has defeated a sacrifice-made monster of unspeakable horror! Now for them to try to escape.
Breath of the Wild (Nintendo) Playing on Master Mode has completely changed how I play. As has the Korok mask and the hero’s path. Still so fun and rewarding.
And that’s it! As always, I’d love to hear recommendos for stuff to read, hear, play, and watch and I’ll see you in November.
Happy Thursday!
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the-desolated-quill · 5 years
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Look On My Works, Ye Mighty... - Watchmen blog
(SPOILER WARNING: The following is an in-depth critical analysis. if you haven’t read this comic yet, you may want to before reading this review)
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Adrian Veidt, aka Ozymandias, is the character we probably know the least about, and some could argue that leaving it until the penultimate chapter to fill in the gaps is leaving it a little late, but as was the case with Doctor Manhattan and Rorschach, it was important that we got to see the character and his impact on the world of Watchmen before we got the full story. Plus I imagine Alan Moore was very hesitant to give us too many details about Veidt in case he ran the risk of revealing his hand too early and spoiling the twist. Look On My Works, Ye Mighty offers many answers to the burning questions throughout the graphic novel whilst offering us a chilling insight into the last remaining superhero archetype that had been unexplored until now. The ‘liberal’ capitalist.
Up until now, we know precisely three things about Veidt. He’s rich, he’s clever and he’s an innovator. It was his subsidiary companies that utilised Manhattan’s superpowers as an alternate energy source, making America eco-friendly and revolutionising technology at the time. He’s also the one superhero in the novel that the general public actually seem to like. Most likely because of his willingness to reveal his secret identity before the Keene Act was passed outlawing superheroes and using his vast wealth and influence to try and help the world instead of merely donning a costume and beating people up. However he’s not popular among other superheroes, most notably Rorschach and the Comedian. With Rorschach, the reasoning is obvious. He’s right wing and homophobic, so naturally he’s at odds with Adrian from the get go. With the Comedian, it’s his cynical nihilism that prevents him from seeing Adrian as anything other than a naive fool with delusions of grandeur. And the dislike is mutual. Adrian openly dislikes Rorschach and, in this very issue, he condemns the Comedian for being Richard Nixon’s lap dog, accusing him of being behind the assassination of JFK and working to keep Nixon in power beyond his term limits (whether this is actually true or simply the conspiratorial ramblings of a bitter liberal is left intentionally unclear). So it’s very ironic indeed that it was the Comedian that gave Adrian the inspiration to fake an alien invasion in the first place.
Now I have a lot to say about the whole alien squid thing, but I’m going to save that for the last review. For now I simply want to focus on Ozymandias himself and the reasons and motivations behind his actions.
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So first things first, what’s with the Egyptian imagery? Well Ozymandias is actually the given name for the historical figure known as Alexander the Great, whom Adrian feels a strong kinship towards. It also ties into Adrian’s personality and goals. Obviously there’s the obscene wealth and ridiculously self indulgent architecture, but also the ancient belief that the pharaohs of Ancient Egypt were intermediaries between the gods and mortals. This is important because it gives us an insight into how Adrian views himself and the world around him. Because of his intellect and his wealth, he views himself as being above humanity and only he knows how best to fix the world. However, in the process, he reduces ordinary people to mere statistics. Killing millions of people in one city will bring about world peace and prosperity for the other billions of people around the globe. This line of thinking is called utilitarianism, which basically means that the ends justify the means. Now of course all the characters in Watchmen display elements of utilitarian thinking, but Adrian takes it a step further, applying his own morality to a global scale. It’s scary on a number of levels, but what makes it so frightening for me is what the character of Ozymandias says about other capitalist superheroes like Batman, Green Arrow and Iron Man.
Rich white men becoming costumed vigilantes is nothing new of course. Batman was one of the first comic book superheroes ever conceived after all. But very rarely do we get to see or explore the political and social implications of a superhero being a member of the one percent. If you think about it, ultra rich men putting on costumes and beating up often working class criminals is quite disturbing. Especially when you consider the kinds of things the mega rich get away with in the real world. Money gives you influence and influence gives you power. Costumed crime fighting is in itself an exercise of power over those deemed immoral, but for the capitalist superhero it’s also power over the impoverished and dispossessed. Class privilege in action. This is something that’s hardly ever touched upon in comics. Okay Iron Man comes the closest at points as he was initially created to critique industrialists and war profiteers, and the Civil War storyline paints him in a very ugly light as the Superhuman Registration Act imposed by the government reveals a strong wealth and class divide within the superhero community, but other than that the conversation is usually swept under the rug. 
DC Comics are quick to point out how Batman and Green Arrow aren’t like those rich white men. Look, they’re donating money to orphanages and helping the homeless! They’re nice capitalists! We like those capitalists! As for Marvel, there’s a line even they won’t cross regarding the politics of Iron Man and other such superheroes in their canon. They’re more than happy to discuss how making weapons of mass destruction is bad, but you’ll never see them get too specific. You’ll never see them condemn the American military and the role they’ve played in the destabilisation of the Middle East, nor will you ever see them outright address the distinct possibility that Tony Stark is in fact Republican. This is why I often find the accusation of publishers and movie studios having a quote/unquote ‘political agenda’ so baffling because the truth is they have no agenda other than to make money. Marvel and DC are businesses. They’ll never risk taking a firm stance either way for fear that it will alienate a certain group of readers and lose them sales. But by dodging and skirting around the conversation, the two companies have created an archetype that feels incredibly disingenuous, which is what Watchmen seeks to expose with Ozymandias.
The question is can someone who is ultra rich and influential possibly be heroic? This is something that was briefly touched upon back in A Brother To Dragons with Nite Owl. Dan spent his dad’s inheritance on costumes and gadgets for his superhero alter ego when surely it would have been better to donate the money to charity or something if he truly wanted to help his community. But that’s not what Dan wants. Not really. He just wants to indulge in his own power fantasy. Adrian takes that one step further. He has more money than Dan. Exponentially more. And it can be argued he’s done good things for his community, such as creating renewable energy. However, just like with Dan, the reasoning behind his plot isn’t really down to wanting to help others, but rather as a way of having the ultimate power fantasy. To be seen to be saving the world.
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Everything Adrian does is less to do with helping others and more to do with displaying his own power and influence. Don’t get me wrong. I believe that he believes he’s doing the right thing, but if you really scrutinise his actions, his motivations feel far more self serving than he would care to admit. Tricking the world into believing they’re being invaded by an outside force is one thing, but taking the trouble to kidnap multiple scientists, writers and artists in order to create a fake alien seems like overkill. It’s ego driven. If you think about it, a bomb would have done. But Adrian wanted something spectacular. Something memorable. Just look at his decor. He built an entire Egyptian temple and biodome in Antarctica. Why? There’s no reason other than for his own self aggrandisement. It’s a display of his power.
Then there’s his actions regarding the Comedian, Rorschach and Doctor Manhattan. He wanted to get rid of witnesses. Understandable. But why beat the Comedian up so savagely, chucking him from his penthouse window, when he could just as easily have dispatched him with a single gunshot like he did with Moloch? Could it be that silencing the Comedian was less about self preservation and more about Adrian demonstrating his superiority over Nixon’s lap dog? Same goes for Rorschach. Again, he could have just killed him. Would have been much simpler. Instead he frames him for Moloch’s murder. It’s not enough to get rid of Rorschach. He wants the satisfaction of outwitting this right wing sociopath. The manipulation of Doctor Manhattan is self explanatory. Tricking a god into leaving the planet must have been quite the ego boost. And then there’s the fake assassination attempt in Fearful Symmetry. Adrian wanted to deflect suspicion away from him, but like with the alien, he wanted something spectacular. Something memorable.
Every single thing Adrian Veidt does throughout the graphic novel has some sort of egotistical agenda behind it. Even his ultimate plot to stop World War Three and unite the world isn’t about the greater good. It’s about him overcoming his own feelings of powerlessness. Because up until now the one thing he was unable to control with all his wealth and influence was the nukes. Now he’s managed even that. He has succeeded where Alexander the Great failed. He is truly the King of kings.
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While not as over the top as this, we’ve seen this kind of behaviour so many times before by members of the quote/unquote liberal elite. Bill Gates, JK Rowling, Joss Whedon, Elon Musk and many more. Wealthy people of influence who are more concerned with looking progressive than actually being progressive. They perform charitable acts not out of a genuine desire to help others, but in order to be seen to be charitable. This is Ozymandias. Like I said, I believe that he believes he’s doing the right thing, but for me I think he’s more interested in being seen to have saved the world rather than actually doing something to truly help bridge the divide between nations. In some ways, he represents superheroes as a whole within Watchmen. Men and women more concerned with the attention and power being a superhero brings than actually helping their community. And just as a superhero alter ego allows the characters to see themselves as being above others, so too does wealth allow Adrian to see himself as being above the world.
This is why it was so important to see all the supporting characters. The news vendor, the kid reading the Black Freighter, Joey and her lesbian partner, Doctor Malcolm Long and his wife, and the two police detectives. To remind us that these are real people’s lives these characters are toying around with here. And it’s genuinely unnerving seeing all these people we’ve come to know over the course of the graphic novel be completely obliterated.
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ladylilithium · 6 years
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Hans’ possible Redemption Arc PART 1: Deconstructing Hans' character
Hey, guys! So this is my first post analysis, meta, observation, whatever you wanna call it, so if it’s seems incomplete or lacks of depth please add your opinions as well! Also English is not my first language but argentine Spanish, papá, so don’t judge me plz. I don’t want to encounter with any anti or hater, and if you have the necessity to speak your mind anyways, do it but in a cordial way.
I’m going to divide this post in 3 parts I think, since is very long, and I have a lot to say for my favorite Jerk redhead Prince 😆
Ok, let’s start, shall we?
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1) Is he really a sociopath?
You know, this is something that upsets me quite a bit. The fact that you can just say “Oh well, he’s a sociopath so he’s manipulative and lacks of empathy” is something that annoys me a little, or at the very least, disappoints me. TBH, you don’t need to be a sociopath (a psychological and mental condition) to be manipulative, apathetic or cruel. I’m trying not to rationalize his actions in Frozen, because he still was wrong by harming two innocent women, but by saying that he’s a sociopath it makes his character a little more… shallow? Simpler? My point is, that a shitty toxic person can be anyone, and it simplifies the complexity that they brought on the table on the first place.
But the questions still remains, is he truly a sociopath?
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Is tricky, since we know nothing except that his family is shit, and that he is a chameleon, a mirror to other people. By the end of the movie, and by the interviews that Jennifer Lee gave to us, it seems to me that he does have sociopathic traits, but he is not a sociopath per se. Hans can be a sociopath, as much as he could be not, if it’s given a proper character in-depth and backstory.
I think that by calling Hans a sociopath is an easy way to make the GA and the Frozen Fandom to disconnect with him since statistically we have normal-functioning brain, and because people with ASPD diagnose have a negative -though justified most of the time- stigma surrounding them.
2) Grey Morality: The line between good and bad, where we all fall.
“All it takes is one bad day to reduce the sanest man alive to lunacy. That's how far the world is from where I am. Just one bad day.”  ― Alan Moore, Batman: The Killing Joke.
As I said before, I like the idea of a morally questionable prince. A more grounded, realistic, game of throne-like character as Hans is. What I don’t like, is the seemingly automatic white to black view that we have for Hans,  while at the same time, we have one of our protagonist letting almost die a whole kingdom, and her sister,  to escape her duties and crippling fears –unintentionally, but still-.  An empath or normal person can commit crime or bad things given in extremes situations of distress, anger, etc. And we see that with our own eyes in Elsa. She almost gets tempted to kill two men, you can see the fury in her eyes, in her face. 
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It is self defense, yes. But regardless of that, her people knew nothing about her powers and they just knew that she cursed them and ran away. No matter how morally wrong Hans was by trying to kill Elsa, or letting Anna die, he also helped her. He helped them both.
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If she indeed killed those men here, I don’t think anyone whould’ve ever trusted her. Not even her own men, whom remember, they witnessed her actions and they were attacked too. 
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A normal person lies. A normal person manipulates. Heck, we even can choose to not feel empathy if it is inconvenient for ourselves.  How many times did you pretend to feel empathy for someone just to make them feel comfortable? How many times did you see a homeless person asking for a money and you just walked away?
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Again, I’m not trying to normalize these negative traits, but to be sincere about it. And is something that makes us very complex as human beings, we are true neutrals, and we can be good or bad, depending of the actions taken at certain moments, and how it impacts to others.
Yes, some people are irredeemable monsters, but I don’t think that’s Hans’ case. And so he does have redeemable qualities as well, even if it might be for personal gain, or perhaps some of his actions were genuine, we don’t know for sure. 
When did we not see an ambiguous morality in Frozen? Or when did we not see ambiguous morality in some Disney characters, in general? Is hard to find, but we do certainly have our morally wrong characters redeemed. Here are a few: 
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- Abused both physically and psychologically Cinderella. CURRENT STATE: Redeemed.
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-Imprisoned Belle. -Verbally violent towards his subjects and Belle. -Almost harms physically Belle. CURRENT STATE: Redeemed.
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-Killed a bear out of vengeance. -Let motherless a bear cub, that after he would befriend. CURRENT STATE: Redeemed.
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-Almost kill a bear out of vengeance too. On top of that, was his own brother (though he didn’t know). CURRENT STATE: Redeemed.
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-Tried to kill Simba and take his pride. -(invoked) Forced mating with Kiara. -Almost attacks Simba. CURRENT STATE: Redeemed.
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-Tried to kill Simba. -Attacked the lionesses of his pride. CURRENT STATE: Redeemed.
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-He was an asshole to everyone. -He ordered a guard to throw an old man through a window (still lol). -He tried to let homeless a whole village for his selfish desires. -He betrayed Pacha’s trust. -He let Pacha on his own fate (probably to die). CURRENT STATE: Redeemed. 
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-Along with Syndrome, she plotted the death of many superheros, including Mr. Incredible. -Almost kill Mr. Incredible. -She almost kill a whole family, including the children.  CURRENT STATE: Redeemed.
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-He tried to kill Elsa, and let Anna die alone for personal gain. -Deceived Anna, Elsa and everyone else. -Plotted the death of Elsa at some point in the movie (unclear when exactly). -Degraded verbaly Anna. -He tried to break Elsa’s heart to make her give up her life. Redeemable Qualities: -He took care of Arendelle while Elsa and Anna were gone (though, it still can be interpreted as gaining popularity). -He went off to look out for Anna. -He ordered the Arendelle guards and the Merchant’s not to harm Elsa. -He calmed Elsa’s rage, avoiding her to kill. -He tried to reason with her.
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Elsa is shown that suffers of guilt and insecurities, yet throughout the majority of the movie, she still rejects Anna and her responsibilities as Queen. Even to a point where she witnesses hurting Anna with her magic,
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 yet she just casts her away from her Ice Castle. Or after the misery that she caused -and she’s visibly hurt by that- she’s still thinking of running away, instead of trying to change things. Hans pleaded her to stop the winter and bring back summer, but she said that she couldn’t.
My goal here is not victim-blaming. I’m not blaming Elsa for her insecurities or self-defense actions. But her character at the end of the film, has a lazy realization, and for me, an unsatisfactory conclusion in terms of story-telling, because we never she her develop for herself, or working hard to balance her bad actions throughout the end of the movie, but anyway.
I’m not trying to rationalize morally questionable/wrong actions either. A good action doesn’t cancel the bad one, but my main interest is to analyze the human psyche, character growth and development.
3) Love and Fear: a constant subject in Frozen, and a constant subject for a “Prince”.
So cut through the heart, cold and clear Strike for love and strike for fear See the beauty, sharp and sheer Split the ice apart, and break the frozen heart.
—Disney’s Frozen “Heart”
DID HANS ACT ONLY OUT OF COLD AMBITION, OR HE WAS ALSO AFRAID?
For what we know from A Frozen Heart, interviews and extra information, is that Hans is abused so much by his brothers, that he just accepted their behavior and doesn’t fight back, is something normal for him. Nor he tries to improve his relationship with them. His relationship with his father is also painfully cold and toxic, and their dynamics are comparable to Zuko and Ozai, Tyrion and Tywin, or Theon and Balon. Hans seems to have an inferiority-superiority complex, and so, his pride is fragile and as well (just as previous Zuko, Theon and Tyrion).
But how? He’s very charming, and his body language never shows signals of insecurity (though that’s debatable). Or when he confesses his true intentions to Anna he has a sexy smug smile in his face, and his voice is soft and low, cruel and never trembling. How is that I believe that he was afraid or scared? Well, the movie itself states that he does have a terrible relationship with his brothers, the novelizations extends this to his father. 
So by knowing this, a person copes with the pain and abuse in different ways: Elsa’s fear is hurting her loved ones, so she forced herself to an emotional -and literal- isolation towards them, specially with Anna. In Hans’ case, his fears are being trapped forever in his “home”, and being rejected by his father. So his way to acclimatizing himself in such negative environment, is to avoid his true feelings and morality. Avoiding his true identity, in essence. Thus, becoming into the Mirror Hans (more on that later), allowing him to become the very thing that he actively tried to avoid for years.
I think that here’s the point where he started to panic; where the fear of going back to his depressive life, and the taste of power that Anna gave him when she left him in charge, took him over completely, forcing himself to toss apart any bit of  true morality and compassion that he had for Anna and Elsa. Where his mind started to realize that executing Elsa was the only way to bring things back to normal. 
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But is also the fact that Anna dissapeared, and Elsa was the only rightful heir to Arendelle, so his conflict was “What do I do? What’s next?” If Hans decided at the moment to execute her, and Anna was dissapeared, he wouldn’t get to be King of Arendelle, and he would back to his hell home. His conflict is both emotional and materialistic, and fear started to get under his skin too. Some might argue that he’s just reflecting Elsa’s emotions, which is valid, but keep in mind his goals, his backstory; try to read him beyond what the movie told you. Link the dots to picture his mind. 
Some other might point out this scene.
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[SIDENOTE: To me, it seems like another atempt to make us dislike him more. In my eyes, is like that the creators tried to manipulate us to hate him, but anyway don’t mind my defensiveness towards him LOL. He’s a terrible person Angie! Stop it, goddamit!]
It interpreted this part as Hans joy of finally seeing the chance of escaping his prisonic home, dehumanizing Elsa completly. WHICH IS BAD regardless. Is he a sadist? The book implies that he takes pleasure in feeling physical pain, but he does not take pleasure on harming others. 
So to me, is a smile of almost getting to win a big bad in a videogame, or well... that’s the type of face when I’m about to eat a pizza so, IDK :v 🤷‍♀️
THE MACHIAVELLIAN KING VS THE MACHIAVELLIAN PRINCE: The Lion and the Fox.
One of the reasons that Hans didn’t fit his family -besides being the smaller and weaker member of them-, is that his morale and philosophy clashed with the imposing, hard power that his father values. Being flexible and benevolent to the common people is a sign of weakness for Hans’ father and brothers. The king sees himself and his other sons as strong and powerful as lions, and he compares Hans to a mouse because he doesn’t fight back, nor shares his value of hard power. The King’s philosophy is kinda like Darwinism with Machiavellian shades. So in one side, we have the cruel side of the Machiavellian philosophy, the one that values fear over love:
“From this arises the question whether it is better to be loved rather than feared, or feared rather than loved. It might perhaps be answered that we should wish to be both: but since love and fear can hardly exist together, if we must choose between them, it is far safer to be feared than loved.”
“One can say this in general of men: they are ungrateful, disloyal, insincere and deceitful, timid of danger and avid of profit...Love is a bond of obligation that these miserable creatures break whenever it suits them to do so; but fear holds them fast by a dread of punishment that never passes.”
But in Hans’ side, he believes (or puts in practice, at least) that appearances and benevolent acts are better way to influence people, to gain more popularity. This is the softer side of power, the more deceitful and diplomatic Machiavellian route:
“Everyone sees what you appear to be, few experience what you really are.”
“Never attempt to win by force what can be won by deception.”
“Therefore it is unnecessary for a prince to have all the good qualities I have enumerated, but it is very necessary to appear to have them. And I shall dare to say this also, that to have them and always to observe them is injurious, and that to appear to have them is useful; to appear merciful, faithful, humane, religious, upright, and to be so, but with a mind so framed that should you require not to be so, you may be able and know how to change to the opposite.”
So we see the two opposing sides of the Machiavellian philosophy, one relies on hard power, and the other in subtle power. In essence, Hans’ father rejects the soft power because of his imposing pride and ego. But both characters share the same Machiavellian influence in their beliefs, the only difference is that Hans takes no joy in being cruel and tyrannical, thus preferring the softer, more subtle side of power. 
Yet at the end of the day, he embraces the cruelty, and fails to become the hero he expected to become, and by the time he realizes his mistakes and regains his morality, is too late.
What I’d like to see in Hans’ Redemption Arc, is a discussion between the characters (mainly Hans and Elsa) about this matter. An intellectual battle, and him realizing that his father was wrong. Not so in-your-face, because I can see people getting bored over political philosophy, but in a metaphorical way. And Hans coming in terms that deceitfulness and fear, aren’t the only way to gain trust, but love and true friendship as well. 
He can be a fox, and a lion too.
“The lion cannot protect himself from traps, and the fox cannot defend himself from wolves. One must therefore be a fox to recognize traps, and a lion to frighten wolves.”
― Niccolò Machiavelli, The Prince
Part 2 Here
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warwicksteens · 5 years
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Cursed: Arthur Retold with a Feminist Perspective
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Renowned comics creator Frank Miller will team with Thomas Wheeler (Puss in Boots) to reimagine the legend of King Arthur from the perspective of a 16-year-old Nimue, also known as the Lady of the Lake, in the illustrated Young Adult novel Cursed.
Miller, who is known for his work on comics such as Batman: Year One, Sin City and 300, will provide both color and black-and-white illustrations for the YA book.
"I have always been entranced by the mythological Arthur story — and by Nimue, in particular," Miller told Entertainment Weekly. "It can be interpreted in any number of ways — from a delightful children’s story, as in The Sword in the Stone, to a terrifying interpretation like Excalibur. This tale represents an incredible opportunity and an exciting challenge for me as an illustrator, and I’m excited to collaborate on the story with Thomas Wheeler. I inherited a collection of antique children’s books from my mother, and I’ve always wanted to have a crack at it myself. This project is a dream come true."
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The Lady of the Lake is the true hero in this cinematic twist on the tale of King Arthur created by Thomas Wheeler and legendary artist, producer, and director Frank Miller (300, Batman: The Dark Night Returns, Sin City). Featuring 8 full color and 30 black-and-white pieces of original artwork by Frank Miller. Whosoever wields the Sword of Power shall be the one true King. But what if the Sword has chosen a Queen? Nimue grew up an outcast. Her connection to dark magic made her something to be feared in her Druid village, and that made her desperate to leave… That is, until her entire village is slaughtered by Red Paladins, and Nimue’s fate is forever altered. Charged by her dying mother to reunite an ancient sword with a legendary sorcerer, Nimue is now her people’s only hope. Her mission leaves little room for revenge, but the growing power within her can think of little else. Nimue teams up with a charming mercenary named Arthur and refugee Fey Folk from across England. She wields a sword meant for the one true king, battling paladins and the armies of a corrupt king. She struggles to unite her people, avenge her family, and discover the truth about her destiny. But perhaps the one thing that can change Destiny itself is found at the edge of a blade.
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onimiman · 6 years
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Film Review: Watchmen: The Ultimate Cut (2009)
On the tenth anniversary of the film Watchmen’s theatrical release, I decided to rewatch the film, only this time, I would watch the film’s Ultimate Cut. Whereas the theatrical cut ran approximately 2 hours and 42 minutes (including closing credits), the Ultimate Cut ran at 3 hours and 35 minutes (again, including closing credits). Having watched this film as a teenager and loving it to the point that for a few years, I’d called it my favorite film ever, I went into watching the Ultimate Cut with trepidation; I had feared that now that I was in my adulthood, I might not look so favorably toward the film as I had when I was a teen. I also feared that if I were to still enjoy the film, I hoped that it would not stem from a blind sense of nostalgia and that I would look upon this less favorably anyway. A similar feeling came over me a few years ago when I had rewatched Tim Burton’s Batman.
So what did I think of the Ultimate Cut of Watchmen? i absolutely loved it, and what few gripes I do have with it are so minute that I wished I wouldn’t even have to mention them here. And I can say with utmost certainty that not only did this movie stand the (albeit so far small) test of time of a decade, but if anything, it made me wonder if this film would have been more successful, critically and financially, if it had been released sometime this decade, what with R-rated films like Deadpool and Logan being so successful in both areas. 
But enough about all this prelude. What was it that I loved about this film? What I love about this film, as I did when I was a teenager, was something that had been simultaneously praised and criticized even at the time of this film’s release, which was its faithful adherence to the source material and making only the most necessary of changes for it to be at all filmable. The film’s strength stems largely because of the graphic novel from which it is based, as Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons’ Watchmen is not only considered to be one of the greatest comics of all time, it’s considered a landmark piece of English literature in general such that it, as a piece of the superhero genre, can be studied on serious thematic levels in colleges and universities (I’d cite my sources, but admittedly, I am quite lazy in that regard; but don’t take my word for it, look it up).
The film, like the graphic novel, is set in a fairly realistic world, much like our own in 1985, but with the twist of superheroes existing within it. The story showcases these heroes’ now-outlawed influence on this world, as that influence (namely from Dr. Manhattan) has led the U.S. and U.S.S.R. to the point where nuclear Armageddon is more of a possibility than even during the Cuban Missile Crisis. The plot follows the investigation of one such outlawed vigilante, Rorschach (who, btw, is one of my favorite characters in all of fiction), who is looking into the death of the Comedian, a controversial (to say the least) hero who has been mysteriously murdered. Rorschach’s investigation leads him to a “mask killer” theory that, as time goes on and the threat of nuclear annihilation looms ever so closer, gains more credence as more of his fellow heroes, including himself, are attacked by an unknown powerful figure. With the aid of Nite-Owl and Silk Spectre, two of his former colleagues, Rorschach aims to find out who the mask killer is and ultimately uncover the possibility of that killer’s involvement with the impending global doom.
The film’s plot, like the novel, is given a fair amount of focus and does get a resolution that is as satisfying as it was unexpected (something that Rian Johnson seems to have trouble with when it comes to Star Wars: The Last Jedi). However, both the film and comic’s attention on the plot itself is surprisingly minimal compared to its focus on its own character studies, which is the core strength of both the film and comic. So let’s go into our six lead characters.
1. Rorschach: As I mentioned before, Rorschach has been one of my favorite characters in all of fiction, and here, he is probably given the most faithful depiction on the silver screen. Jackie Earle Haley’s performance as Rorschach is, in my opinion, more Oscar-worthy than something like Black Panther, as it is abundantly clear just how well Haley understood this character. He portrays an incredibly damaged sociopath with an uncompromising view of black-and-white morality so well that it makes me sad that Haley never gets the respect for playing this character as well as Ryan Reynolds does for playing Deadpool, Hugh Jackman for Wolverine, Kevin Conroy or Michael Keaton for playing Batman, or Robert Downey, Jr. for playing Iron Man. My hat goes out to you, Mr. Haley. Your performance here rates 10/10 for me still. :)
2. Nite-Owl a.k.a. Dan Dreiberg: As a teenager, I had an underappreciation for both the character of Dan Dreiberg and for Patrick Wilson’s portrayal of him. While I thought then that Wilson had done a good job playing Dreiberg, I didn’t much care for the character in general as a teen, as I thought that he was just a boring everyman. As an adult, however, I found both the character and Wilson’s performance to be as important as, if not more than, Rorschach and Haley’s performance of that character. Wilson’s portrayal of a defeated, pathetic sad-sack of a human being who has an underlying anxiety concerning the threat of nuclear annihilation is an important emotional anchor point for the film (and comic, of course); as entertaining as Rorschach is, I can imagine that not a whole lot of people can relate to him on a deep level. If Rorschach is the Jack Sparrow of what I can loosely call an adventure here, Dreiberg is Will Turner; you might not like him as much as the guy who gets the attention for his craziness, but you realize you need him as the everyman if you want your story to really work. 
3. Silk Spectre a.k.a. Laurie Jupiter: Unfortunately, while my opinion on Nite-Owl had changed, my opinion on Laurie Jupiter, as well as Malin Akerman’s performance, has not. I hate to say it, but she’s essentially the female equivalent of Dreiberg, and while she does have some interesting emotional turmoil going on, I don’t find the character to be particularly likable. And I think the biggest reason for that stems from Akerman’s performance; I find her to be too wooden and bland in her delivery. While Akerman does make the character more likable than in the comic, her eye candy appeal doesn’t distract me from the unconvincing performance that she delivers throughout the film.
4. Dr. Manhattan a.k.a. Jon Osterman: A character, and performance courtesy of Billy Crudup, that I gained more appreciation for, like Dreiberg and Wilson’s depiction of that character. The nihilism and disconnection from humanity that serves as the basis for Dr. Manhattan is one that is properly delivered by Crudup’s deliberately robotic performance, and as a character, he stands out as incredibly unique in fiction. As a fan of Rick and Morty, I find Dr. Manhattan to be what Rick Sanchez would be if he had less personalty and gave even less of a shit about the universe in which he inhabits. A nihilistic character can be hard to pull off without coming off as boring, yet the writing and Crudup’s performance manage to almost perfectly convey someone who maybe layered in disinterest, but who, at his core, still retains enough of a sliver of humanity that he wishes to find any reason to still be a part of it.
5. The Comedian a.k.a. Eddie Blake: Now here is a character that you probably wouldn’t see much of in the superhero genre. As unique as Dr. Manhattan is when it comes to his nihilism, Edward Morgan Blake is probably what would happen if Rick Sanchez were actually grounded in reality and his actions had legitimate consequences. Jeffrey Dean Morgan manages to play a despicable human being so incredibly well that even though he says and does some genuinely heinous things, like attempted rape or shooting a pregnant woman dead out of anger for slashing his face with a broken beer bottle because he wouldn’t agree to raise the baby that he impregnated her with, he still manages to come off as understandable and believably human. This is especially highlighted in a scene where he actually breaks down crying to someone who had been his enemy for decades. It’s a shockingly real depiction of a monster who is still all too human and it’s one that I don’t think would be depicted in the mainstream media these days. 
6. Ozymandias a.k.a. Adrian Veidt - As a teen, I thought that Matthew Goode’s performance as Veidt was dull, but now, like with Wilson and Crudup’s performance of their respective characters in this film, I now consider his performance to be an incredibly strong one. While giving this character a much more sinister and menacing air than the more tragic atmosphere surrounding Veidt in the comic, I can now assess that Goode is able to deliver a performance that is quite respectable for someone who can be reasonably argued to be the film and comic’s true hero rather than its villain. I don’t find it to be nearly to the same caliber as Josh Brolin’s performance as Thanos in Avengers: Infinity War, but I’d say it’s at least within the same ballpark.
Now that we’re past the characters, I have to mention the extras that are part of the Ultimate Cut of this film and whether or not I think they add or subtract from the film’s quality overall. I can really only think of two scenes that I thought were unnecessary. The first is one early on that I thought made no sense, in which Rorschach somehow managed to survive being shot by a cop without even so much as flinching; it wasn’t even something that was from the book either, so what the hell? Also, I thought that including Hollis Mason’s death in the film was unnecessary, as it doesn’t really have a resolution, and that’s a criticism that I levy at the comic as well. However, in spite of these somewhat weak bits, I felt that the film’s inclusion of the Tales from the Black Freighter is one that lends some very interesting thematic weight to the film’s main story, just as that did in the comic. The Black Freighter sections were incredibly well animated, Gerard Butler put in a fantastic performance as the Captain, and it was a great representation of the comic-within-a-comic; I have no complaints here, but I do understand why it had to ultimately be cut from the film’s theatrical cut.
In conclusion, the film adaptation of Watchmen, as bolstered through most of the extra material of its Ultimate Cut, is not only an excellent adaptation of its source material, even if Alan Moore didn’t want his name attached to it, but it’s also a great film in its own right that I find to be incredibly underrated. I rate this movie 9.5/10.  
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davidmann95 · 6 years
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Since you just announced it on Twitter, what did you think of Kraven’s Last Hunt?
May not be contemporary in the broader sense, but I suppose it’s contemporary for me, and that’s good enough. Short answer: I liked it quite a bit and like it more the longer I sit on it.
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On a certain conceptual level, this initially reminded me of Dark Phoenix Saga, in that like that I felt (as reinforced by DeMatteis originally conceiving of this as Wonder Man and then Batman stories) this was a template that could have fit for essentially any character that simply happened to be attached to this one, albeit benefiting from Spider-Man’s vulnerability, and with the critical difference that it’s good. A very different manner of good from the other Very Good Major Comics Of 1986-1987, all symbol and emotion and impressionistic interpretations of what’s in theory a rather straightforward - if necessarily intense and intimate - supervillain plot to humiliate and break a superhero. And Zeck walks that fine line of solid, tangible ‘realism’ and stylized, frenetic, overblown excess necessary for a book this simultaneously ground-level and psychedelic; a perfect Spider-Man artist, when I put it like that. There are elements that necessarily eluded me on Kraven’s end, lacking as I am in a meaningful grounding in either the Russian Revolution or the works of William Blake, but at the end of the day they’re simply incredibly good, even if the nature of its incarnation was something of happenstance.
But the truth is, that this project ended up a Spider-Man story is crucial to how it ultimately works, far beyond Peter’s inherent ability to rightfully freak the fuck out at his circumstances in a way Bruce Wayne could never entirely pull off (though that element, and how well it works here, really does make this the genesis of the particular breed of Serious Spider-Man Stories that I’ve always loved, even as I know they shouldn’t constitute Pete’s bread and butter). As an artifact unto itself, as a singular ‘graphic novel’ thesis on Parker, it’s the ultimate statement against, and ultimately redemption of, the concept of him as a larger-than-life figure. Kraven’s modeled his entire life around refusing to accept the humble Earthliness of things in search of a greater purpose, casting himself the noble scion of a lost kingdom of glory, turned champion against the great monsters of the world, because the alternative is that he’s a 70 year old man with likely undiagnosed mental illness who hunts down and shoots a college dropout in the face before getting in a wrestling match with an overgrown sewer rat to try and get over his midlife crisis. And he so nearly pushes Peter into that same mindset with drugs and isolation and savagery, but in the end, no; just like the supposed Vermin who stalks the corners of the piece, he’s just a dude. So profoundly just a dude that even a lifetime of pathology and self-delusion can’t stop Kraven from recognizing it in the end. Yet even as he brings his own story to an end, satisfied and unable to see another purpose in life, Sergei sees the greater truth: Peter may not have been The Spider, but Spider-Man was his Spider, just as he has been to so many others, and that battle and that story truly is something miraculous and worth taking pride in.
Outside its isolated context however, at least for me, it takes the role of climax to a greater narrative arc of Spider-Man vs. Depression. See, the form I happened to read this in was “The Amazing Spider-Man Epic Collection Vol. 17″, which also includes Amazing Spider-Man #289-292 + annuals 20 & 21, Spider-Man Versus Wolverine, and Web of Spider-Man #29-30. And what they consistently present in the unwitting leadup to this is a Peter Parker whose life isn’t rocked by constant disaster and upheaval, but is just believably shitty and mundane and empty, made up of unrewarding routines, drab surroundings and a handful of compromised half-formed relationships. He’s thinking hard about giving up as Spider-Man again, consciously wondering at one point why he isn’t happy with his life as things stand, and most of all he’s reeling from his encounter with Wolverine. An encounter that not only resulted in the death of an acquaintance, but threw him into a narrative space where he as a traditional superhero simply doesn’t function, rendered emasculated and ineffectual in the face of a very different model of superheroic realism culminating in blood on his own hands. He wanders through the aftermath in a daze, even as he primarily (and as I know you discuss on your blog Fearful Symmetry - which I’m finally reading now that I’ve read this - crucially) focuses on Ned’s loss rather than taking a life himself, his sole meaningful respite his love and ultimately marriage to* Mary Jane. But just as the haze seems to be lifting and life feels real and meaningful again, the hammer comes down when the darkness is over him again for a moment in the wake of another death, sending him spiraling into a hallucinatory nervous breakdown. It’s only by readmitting his vulnerability to himself, by holding on to the single emotional tether he’s permitted himself in his wife, and by in the end refusing to succumb to the panic and hate threatening to take him over, that he literally crawls up out of the ground twice, once out of the ground and the second time back into the light.
It’s not as good as the Kraven arc in Squirrel Girl though. But still pretty good.
* Speaking as a fan of the Spider-Marriage, and having just read it and the context around it for the first time:Holy SHIT that did not work and I don’t blame creators throwing fits behind the scenes. The annual itself is great, but in the leadup - literally the issue before the proposal - Peter and MJ are kinda unofficially seeing each other and also he’s still clearly hooking up with Black Cat. And then in one issue he decides “something feels incomplete, I should get my life as Peter sorted out” and pops the question out of fucking NOWHERE. MJ is understandably like “um???” but then accepts a couple issues later and that’s that.It’s UNBELIEVABLY weird. Not that Peter Fuckin’ Parker couldn’t do something that stupid if he’d had a bad enough time of things recently to fry his head (which he most definitely had), but that it in any way works out.
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seuzz · 6 years
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Novel: Absalom, Absalom!
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Summary In 1909 Quentin Compson of Jefferson, Mississippi, is summoned out to her house by Miss Rosa Coldfield to listen to the story of the Sutpen family, into which her sister married. Quentin later hears more of the story from his father, and he himself learns more directly on visiting the decaying Sutpen mansion with Miss Rosa. A year later he recounts the story to his roommate at Harvard, who speculates copiously on details not know and which were impossible to learn.
The story of Thomas Sutpen, when put together: The son of poor white trash in Virginia, Thomas Sutpen was as a youth insulted by a house slave and became determined to have an estate and dynasty of his own. He moved to Haiti where he married, and only too late discovered—after fathering a child by her—that his wife was part-Negro. He divorced her and moved with twenty slaves to Jefferson where he bamboozled his way into ownership of a hundred acres on which he built a great mansion. He wed Ellen Coldfield, the daughter of shopkeeper and by her fathered a daughter, Judith, and a son, Henry. He also fathered another daughter, Clytie, by a slave a girl. For all this, Sutpen never really attained respectability in the eyes of the town.
Henry Sutpen went to university where he befriended an older student, Charles Bon, and brought him back home, where it was arranged for Charles to marry Judith. Sutpen, however, realized that Charles was the son he had by his first wife; on informing Henry of this, Henry disowned his father and fled with Charles. They joined the Confederate Army on the outbreak of the War. When it was over they returned home, and at the gates of the house Henry killed Charles. It is assumed it was because Charles was determined to marry Judith despite being her half-brother and being part-Negro. Henry then ran off. Ellen Coldfield was already dead before this had happened.
Thomas Sutpen returned to his ruined plantation and tried to rebuild it. He proposed a kind of marriage to Rosa Coldfield, the much-younger sister of Ellen, who had moved in with Judith and Clytie. He proposed that he father a child by her, but only marry her if the child was a son. She naturally refused and moved back to town. Sutpen then fathered a child on the granddaughter of a squatter who lived on his land. When the child proved a girl, he disowned them both, and was promptly murdered by the squatter, who also killed his daughter and the infant before being killed by a posse.
Some years later a child that Charles had fathered on an octaroon is fetched from New Orleans by Clytie and Judith. He marries a black woman and fathers a child. Charles's son and Judith die of yellow fever, leaving Clytie and Charles's grandson the only inhabitants of the ruined house.
In 1909 Quentin and Rosa travel out to the mansion, where they discover Henry, living there four years, in an upper room waiting to die. Later, when they try to fetch him back to town, Clytie burns the house down, killing herself and Henry.
Notes At the time of its publication, Clifton Fadiman denounced Absalom, Absalom! as "a penny dreadful tricked up in fancy language and given a specious depth by the expert manipulation of a series of eccentric technical tricks."
I think there is some justice in this judgment. I'm not alone, either. Even today, when it is a feature of university literature classes, this novel is controversial among critics. The plot is a Gothic horror story that is only slowly revealed in piecemeal fashion as various narrators take their turns sketching it and coloring it in with their own perspectives; and to grasp the prose style, imagine a kudzu that's been weaponized by Batman's Poison Ivy .
And yet this isn't to say that the novel is bad or and should be dismissed. It's quite good, actually, if only it is accepted as what it is and not wished to be what it is not.
But I'm not here to pass a critical judgment, only to remark on what works very well, what works less well, and what lessons might be learned. I have only two:
1. The novel does a masterful job of parceling out only a little information at a time, and parceling it out so that we sense the disclosures coming and are not shocked to our core when they arrive. This creates suspense and stops the plot twists being to nakedly shocking when they come, while still giving us a good chill when our fears are confirmed. It would work even if the prose style weren't as dense and obscure as it often is, and a reading of Absalom, Absalom! make plain how much sheer storytelling joy there is to be had in building and delaying plot developments not by manipulating the plot but by manipulating the narrative.
2. Most of the criticisms of the prose style concentrate on the length of the sentences, the complexity of their internal structure, and the insertion of parenthetical material. These stylistic choices can and have been defended, but the greatest defect (IMO) is the relative lack of vivid, concrete words, and the superabundance of words that only exist for the sake of other words.
Here is an example of what I mean:
... probably by that time he had learned that there were three things and no more: breathing, pleasure, darkness; and without money there could be no pleasure, and without pleasure it would not even be breathing but mere protoplasmic inhale and collapse of blind unorganism in a darkness where light never began.
The meaning, if you read it carefully, is clear enough: Pleasure needs money, and breathing needs pleasure; for breathing without pleasure is not life but only a biological mechanicalness. You may say that Faulkner's original is more stylish than my paraphrase, and I will not argue. But notice how every noun in Faulkner's passage (and my own) is either abstract (thing, breathing, pleasure, money, inhale, unorganism) or abstractness dressed in metaphor (darkness, light). "Learned" is not a vivid verb, and "collapse" is another metaphor for an abstraction. Every one of those fifty-one words is either abstract or merely a connective binding those abstractions together.  And so the imagination fumbles vainly for some real and vivid image in this wall of words.
Here is a passage where we do get something concrete when Faulkner describes Miss Rosa’s house:
... a dim hot airless room with the blinds all closed and fastened for forty-three summers because when she was a girl someone had believed that light and moving air carried heat and that dark was always cooler, and which (as the sun shone fuller and fuller on that side of the house) became latticed with yellow slashes full of dust motes which Quentin thought of as being flecks of the dead old dried paint itself blown inward from the scaling blinds as wind might have blown them.
This is a challenge to read, but it is easier to absorb because there are definite objects—blinds and dust motes and flecks of paint; the sun, the room, the air—colored with vivid adjectives (dim hot airless; yellow; dead old dried); and even the parenthetical remarks about light and air carrying heat refer to real things.
When Faulkner writes in this latter, as he does throughout most of Chapter Nine, the reader can move swiftly and confidently through even the longest and most maze-like sentences, because the sentences gives us real things to imagine and ways of imagining them. But when he retreats into the abstract—which he is most often does—the story is swallowed up in mere verbiage.
You can defend even this aspect of Faulkner's style by arguing that, ultimately, that is all that the narrators have—their own words to explain something that has long since vanished—and that they are as lost and uncomprehending inside their words as the reader is. And maybe you are right. But I take from it the caution that the more complex your prose style, the more you need hard, bright words that stand for things that are not words if you don't want to baffle and intimidate your readers.
Recommended
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The Worm Reads: Empire of Storms, Ch 65 - 67
I want this book over and done with
The Lock had crafted the sarcophagus from the mountain itself. It had taken every ember of its power to bind Erawan within the stone, to seal him inside.
Chapter 65 opens up with Elena’s POV on how Erawan is sealed up.
When [Elena] had stolen the Lock from her father all those months ago, she had not known—had not understood —the truth depth of its power. Still did not know why he had forged it. Only that once, just once, could the Lock’s power be wielded. And that power … oh, that mighty, shattering power … it had saved them all.
Holy fragments, Batman! Holy em dashes, Batman! Was SJM typing with one hand or?
Gavin, sprawled and bloody behind her, stirred. His face was so mangled she could barely see the handsome, fierce features beneath.
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Gavin got his ass whooped by Erawan but Elena still needs to bust a nut over how hot he once was lmfaoooooo you’re killing me SJM
But even Gavin had not known what [Elena]’d been planning. What she’d stolen and harbored all these months. She did not regret it. Not when it had spared him from death. Worse.
Lmao is this an unintentional parallel to Alien and Rowboat because i am laughing Elena is punished for keeping secrets but Alien blatantly gets away with it holy fucking shit
Some spirits show up and tell Elena despite her efforts, no cigar. Erawan is gonna bust out of there eventually.
“He will rise again one day,” said the one of darkness and death. “He will awaken. You have wasted our Lock on a fool’s errand, when you could have solved all, had you only the patience and wits to understand.” “Then let him awaken,” Elena begged, her voice breaking. “Let someone else inherit this war—someone better prepared.”
I’m a sucker for conflict like this, where the older generation passes their problems onto the younger generation and the falling out from that, but sadly SJM didn’t give me any good character to inherit these problems for me to care about. Such a good concept wasted on a shitty disguise for fantasy porn.
Elena has to promise she’ll help whoever holds the Wyrdkeys next to fix the problems she made. Thanks, Elena, for making me read Alien’s shitty adventure. The scene swaps over to another memory.
The Princess of Eyllwe had been wandering the Stone Marshes for weeks, searching for answers to riddles posed a thousand years ago. Answers that might save her doomed kingdom.
Wait.....Nehemia?
Nehemia, baby, what are you doing here? Flee this shitty novel! Run my child, be free and flee to the land of actual good writing!
So Elena tells Nehemia about Alien’s destiny to save everyone (gag) and to go forth and seek out Alien to help her.
“And the price?” Elena hated them, then. Hated the gods who had demanded this. Hated herself. Hated that this was asked, all these bright lights … “You will not see Eyllwe again.”
Wow. So SJM really made a black woman’s entire character arc about dying for her precious snowflake OC, huh....SJM really out here dong Nehemia dirty like this.........
Nehemia swallowed. “Then I shall help in whatever way I can. For Erilea. And my people.”
GROSS SOBBING
NEHEMIA DESERVES SO MUCH BETTER THAN WHAT THIS SHITTY SERIES DID TO HER NEHEMIA BABY I AM SO SORRY
Chapter 66 opens with Assdion’s POV... great. Can I please see Maeve punch him in his stupid face?
Aedion Ashryver had been trained to kill men and hold a line in battle since he was old enough to lift a sword.
SJM is still attempting to get me to feel bad for Assdion. Well guess what Sarah, too little too late.
But Aedion’s duty wasn’t to remind [the soldiers] of the blunt facts. His duty was to make them willing to die, to make this fight seem utterly necessary.
Anything for your precious queen Alien, huh? Eat my ass, Assdion.
[Lysandra] had modified her sea dragon. Given it longer limbs—with prehensile thumbs. Given her tail more strength, more control.
Holy fucking shit, and I thought Alien was a Mary Sue!!! So Lysandra can not only perfectly shift into a creature she’s never seen in the flesh before, she can also modify it like it’s an RPG??? Holy fucking shit Sarah quit making all your OCs over powered!! How the fuck am I supposed to be feel any tension or fear???
Arrows fired with better accuracy than the Valg foot soldiers, shooting like those rays of sunshine into the water. [Lysandra]’d prepared for that, too. They bounced off scales of Spidersilk. Hours spent studying the material grafted onto Abraxos’s wings had taught her about it—how to change her own skin into the impenetrable fiber.
1. “rays of sunshine” the fucking imagery???? Does SJM know how words work???
2. HOLY SHIT, PULLED OUT OF YOUR ASS MUCH??? We were given no indication Lysandra had been studying Abraxos’s wings until now, what a fucking ass pull!!! If you’re going to introduce new sudden magical elements you have to show them beforehand, otherwise it looks like you wrote yourself into a corner and just farted out a solution last minute!!!!
I hate this book. I hated it before, but I really hate it. The fact that so many talented authors receive no attention but SJM’s absolute garbage dumpster fire novels that are just for porn with no other thought put into them get all this praise makes me want to jump off a bridge.
Anyways, now we’re in Dorito’s POV and SJM Dorito is splooging over how powerful Rowan is. Same old, same old.
But when Aelin found their bodies, or whatever was left of them if the sea didn’t claim them … she might very well end the world for rage. Maybe she should. Maybe this world deserved it.
I mean, if she ended the world this series would be over and I’m on board with that, but you guys have spent this entire novel fighting to protect the world from the bad guys and now suddenly when things get hard you’re like, “eh fuck it the world doesn’t deserve our help”? Wow, some heroes you guys are.
[Dorian] wished he’d had more time to talk to the witch. To get to know her beyond what his body had already learned.
I’m not touching this because it’s beyond fucking stupid and this is the moment SJM should’ve woken up and realized her precious romances have no chemistry and are simply there for porn purposes.
Anyways, surprise surprise, Rowboat’s begging actually worked and his cousins start firing at their own ships. Score one for ass pulls!
Rowan had told Enda about Aelin.
The next chapter opens up with this, and I’m honestly baffled. If Rowboat told his cousins about the selfish shitlord that is Alien, you’d think they’d be more than eager to destroy her ship. But I suppose not.
So [Rowan]’d gone, ship to ship. To the cousins he knew might listen. An act of treason—that was what he had begged them for. Treason and betrayal so great they could never go home. Their lands, their titles, would be seized or destroyed.
So why the fuck did they decide to help him?
No, I’m serious, Rowan doesn’t tell us. If I was one of his cousins and this fucker showed up after betraying our queen and begged me to risk my own life and family to save him, I’d tell him to go fuck himself.
Is SJM fucking with us on purpose? Because none of this makes any sense. They have no logical reason to help Rowan at the risk of themselves, and I’d bet every cent I ever owned Rowboat won’t lift a finger to help any of his cousins after Maeve kicks them out.
SJM is a shitty writer. She’s worse than fucking George Lucas. That’s right, I said it, don’t fucking come @ me.
Maeve wouldn’t allow it. She’d wipe the Whitethorn line off the map for this.
If Rowboat’s cousin and his lover die because of this I am going to break something.
Anyways, Rowboat and the gang start winning because of fucking course they do, and Lorcan realizes Maeve isn’t actually on any of her ships, but on the same beach Elide was ordered to wait on. Well, duh, did you really expect Maeve to be that stupid?
The chapter is over, and oh my god less then 10 chapters..... I can do this, I can do this...........
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