#Strange Guy but I Like Him (Herbert)

[papanowo]

i think dan should get to be a little weird too. as a treat

[ikkaku-of-heart]

@miskatonicfolly asked: Mood 

Anubis makes moodboards! (Still Accepting)

Herbert West and Ikkaku. A true friendship despite everything. He’s weird, she’s weird, they’re weird together, though Ikkaku does at least keep his weirdness from getting out of hand (or at least not as much as it would have without her interference). They are wonderful mad science friends and Ikkaku genuinely cares for him despite her constantly needing to remind Herbert that no, there’s a god damn good reason people shouldn’t come back from the dead.

[sebastianswallows]

I want to talk a little bit about Frank Herbert and the Bene Gesserits, because it's something that's been on my mind for a while and I haven't seen anyone looking at these characters from this perspective yet (not that I looked very hard, but I check the tags occasionally and just haven't seen it, and this would be the first place I'd expect to).

It's strange in a good way seeing Dune become popular, and people actually reading the books, and it being cool to do so, not it being a niche and nerdy thing. But what's equally weird is to see all the praise Frank Herbert's getting, especially from women readers 😂

Because at any point between, I think, the 80s and the 2000s, if a guy said he liked Frank Herbert that was considered by women to be a red flag. I remember women chatting about this in online forums back in the day. It was the equivalent of a guy saying he likes Jordan Peterson now.

It's an analysis of Dune that doesn't seem to have come through again. Audiences have caught on to the homophobia inherent in how the Baron was represented, but nobody is talking anymore about the blatant sexism of the books.

And I say this as a long time fan, because I was super inspired by most of the female characters in the novels and in particular the Bene Gesserits, so to hear that Herbert was supposed to be a misogynist took me by surprise. "What do you mean it's sexist? This is great!" The idea of a group of women who fully dedicate themselves to their own intergalactic girl gang, who follow their own plans, who use their femininity to their own ends, who live through discipline and self control and are fully empowered to face down any threat, that was so inspiring to teenage me.

But I guess the sort of women I most admired were the ones who were terrifying to men.

I mean, the only "good" female characters are either not Bene Gesserits, like Chani, or are Bene Gesserits who go against the order, like Jessica. Moreover, the only "good" female characters are those who betray their group for the sake of men. Like Jessica going against the word of the Reverend Mother because Leto wanted a boy.

Irulan's only redeeming features are her complete dedication to Paul and being basically in love with him and being the author of glorifying history books about him in spite of the fact that he deposed her father and is keeping her in a loveless marriage and constantly publicly humiliates her by treating Chani as his wife.

Even Chani, an otherwise bland and marginal character compared to the film, is at her most poignant when dying in child birth for the sake of giving birth to Paul's children. A death which happens because Irulan had been secretly poisoning her out of jealousy. Frank Herbert just has women clawing each other's eyes out for the sake of Paul's affection. I don't care how good that dick is, it's not worth poisoning another woman over. Poison him instead and take the throne, girl.

But oh yeah, in this intergalactic empire tens of thousands of years in the future, they seem to have discovered neither the concept of divorce nor of female inheritance of titles and property. It can only be a man inheriting the throne, not the Emperor's biological daughter. And once Irulan is married, well she's just stuck there. Pretty incredible.

And however great the Bene Gesserits are, they still need a man to "see where they can not see". No matter how empowered a group of women becomes, they still need a man. Only a man can see into the future. Women can only see into the past. Therefore, only a man can save the world.

I get that they tried to conceal some of this in the recent film, and they managed to do so to some extent, but it's mostly been with Chani. You still have the problem of Jessica and Irulan being just servants for the whims of the men in their lives, a fact which gets them into a lot of trouble. And you have the Bene Gesserits portrayed as scheming witches who are evil to have their own plots and designs, and are dependent on a man to see into that place which terrifies them.

I mean, enjoy the books by all means. I always did in spite of all of this, and I still like the story and the world. I still love the characters too. But man if the author didn't have some unflattering ideas about us 😂

[daxwormzz]

Who’s Piter? (Full disclosure, I’m entirely prepared for rambling, I’ve just never heard of this)

HIIIIIIII OKAY SO. Basically. Piter de Vries is this guy from hit 1960s scifi novel Dune by Frank Herbert. He’s the right-hand to the main villain, The Baron Harkonnen. He’s only in the first half of the first book, and some of the bad prequel novels.

Piter’s whole thing is that he’s a Mentat, a human trained to essentially function like a supercomputer and be crazy good at calculating shit. (Because “thinking machines” have been outlawed in the world of Dune, so no computers!) but also he’s specifically this thing called a TWISTED MENTAT, which means he’s a computer who’s evil and has no moral compass. It’s up to interpretation what exactly caused this— there’s sorta two theories with equal amounts of evidence. One: this one evil organization purposefully fucks up Mentats to MAKE them essentially lose faith in morality and humanity as a whole. Like reeeeaaally fucks them up. And two: they’re actually just born like that. Like the mentat was already predisposed to “evil” behavior and that one organization just exploits that and employs them.

I sorta think it was a mix of that for Piter, I think he was born with obvious signs of brain illness and that was exploited and exacerbated by whatever he was put through. I think if he wasn’t “twisted” he probably would’ve grown up to he just some kinda strange asshole, rather than one of the most wretched guys you’ll ever meet.

That being said, the actual gist of Piter’s personality and description is this: eccentric and snarky conniving guy who LOVES to torture. He’s also shown to be very power-hungry, and subtly obsessed with control and death as a whole. And also poisons. He has a passion for poison-making. As a mentat, he’s also an assassin of sorts, cause turns out they’re pretty good at that. He’s described as having a terrifying “silky” voice, so kind of like if a snake was a guy. He’s also described as followed: a short “effeminate” man with frizzy hair, probably wears platform boots, blue-within-blue eyes, and red-stained lips. (“It was like a mask grimace over those eyes like holes”, to quote the book directly.) his eyes and mouth are an important detail, because those come from all the DRUGS he takes. Like so many. He’s specifically takes Spice, the most important substance in Dune basically. That’s what makes his eyes that weird blue! So he’s like… unnerving-pretty. Weird looking but pretty in the way a very toxic sea creature is. Do NOT touch. Sometimes he refers to himself in the third person and he sounds like the Miette cat post.

BUUUUT YEAH so like, weird guy amiright? I’m prone to loving evil right hand man characters, I’ll be for real. But what really got me crazy about his character is how he’s treated in the story by various characters. Sure, he’s a bad awful guy and all that- but he is also CONSTANTLY dehumanized. Specifically by his “employer”, The Baron. Who is a whole other can of worms. There’s even a whole scene where the baron puts Piter on “display” and refers to him as “it”. The baron also explicitly exploits Piter’s drug addiction to get him to comply and stay “loyal”, which is particularly scary I think, because spice withdrawal is incredibly deadly.

Piter and the Baron have some of the most bonkers banter in the entire book. It’s comedically evil in every way. You can tell they HATE each other but it’s hidden under so many layers of scheming and posturing. Piter would take the barony if he could 💪💪💪😔😔😔 Piter is also THE guy who comes up with the entire coup against the main character’s noble house that sparks the main events of the entire book??? Like he states directly that it was HIM. On like page 21 of the book. And this is not talked about much. None of his movie versions really get to the “meat” of his character, especially the newest Dune films. He’s very glossed-over, honestly. Which is a shame because as you can tell, I find him fascinating!

I think…. I’m done now… thank you for coming to my Piter talk… I hope this is enlightening 💚

[redcruxsworld]

I love you, still do.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Kennings looked at the picture on his desk. Amongst all his possessions, it was the most special one. One that he cherished the most. A picture of his ex-girlfriend, Cecilia, is also known as "Miss Heed." They met when they were young and fell in love. They dated for six long years before Cecilia finally left him. It was sudden and shocking for him. He didn't notice anything wrong prior. It was just him and her happy together living in his small apartment. He was a good boyfriend, too. He'd clean the place and cook homemade meals for the both of them. It was a simple yet quiet and lovely one..... or so he thought. Ever since she left him with a letter telling him that she was breaking up with him, he felt like he did something wrong. As if the reason why she left was because of him. She never specifically said it was his fault, but he felt like if he only had given her things she wanted, maybe.... she would have stayed. 'That might be it', Kennings said in his mind. He couldn't give her nice bags, clothes, and a nicer apartment, that's why she left him. He stood up with a determined look on his face. He knew what he needed to do, and he would do it if it meant to get her back. He would do every job so that he could take her out on a nice dinner night. He then changed clothes and walked the street nights of Paris. He was inquiring if any of the restaurants and bars needed a waiter. He hanged his head low as he was rejected for the 5th time. As he decided to go back home and try his luck tomorrow, a flyer slapped him on the face. He took it off, and a smile grew on his face. It was a flyer for a well-known restaurant in his area and wouldn't you know they are looking for a waiter! 'This is great! Now I'll be able to save up more money to take Cecilia out!', Kennings squealed as he ran directly to where the restaurant was. He entered, huffing as he tried to gain back some air back to his lungs. The staff who were closing up the place looked at him in confusion. He then looked up and raised the flyer, "You are guys looking still for a waiter?", he said in an excited tone. The staff then spoke up after a solid minute, "Sorry, but we are clos-", then a loud slam of the kitchen door erupted. It was the owner and head chef of the restaurant, Herbert Leth. He smiled brightly, "Oh, looks, we already have a new waiter! Isn't that nice!", Herbert said in a cheery and loud voice. Herbert walked towards Kennings and held his hands, "Welcome to La Gueule de Saturne. It's a pleasure to be your boss and to have you as a new employee. You'll be starting next morning! Don't be late, alright?", he said before releasing his death grip on Kennings's hands. Kennings rubbed his hands together to relieve some of the pain, "A-already?.... No interview o-or anything???", he asked, perplexed by Herbert's overly positive and cheery attitude. Herbert just shook his head, "None, unless you want that? But I'm sure you don't. Anyways, remember, I need you here by 5 am sharp. Ok?", Herbert said as he faced his other employees, "Keep moving. We are 4 minutes late from closure.", his cheery voice shifting to a more serious one. Kennings felt relieved that he immediately got the job, but...... he felt like something was off. Did the great master chef Herbert Leth really just accepted him with no questions asked? It was strange, but nonetheless, maybe it was just luck being on his side today. He left the restaurant before a voice called out to him, "Oi! New guy, don't forget your uniform!", the staff member said hastily giving it to him before running back to the restaurant. He looked at the guy wanting to say thank you but couldn't even finish. His eyes then stared at the uniform, then the outside of La Gueule de Saturne. Looks like his boring life got busier than ever. He doesn't want to disappoint his new boss, just like how he did with Cecilia. After she was the main reason why he wanted this job. It was for her. He then carried his uniform back to his flat and slept. Ready to take on what tomorrow holds for him.

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[starstruckodysseys]

ages ago (literally only like seven months ago) i started a poe party role swap au and honestly i don’t know if ill ever finish it despite it having some banger lines so. here’s my (incredibly vague) outline. if you even care.

hg dies before the story even starts. he begins to haunt a house, a mansion, finding a space in the attic where he can focus on becoming slightly more corporeal and therefore work on his inventions. later, annabel stumbles upon this attic after she moves in, and despite being startled at first she begins to adjust to living alongside hg. they’re besties <3

eventually, annabel decides that the house has been remarkably empty, lately, and she invites a few of her friends - authors, most of them, but her childhood friend as well. hg has heard stories about this friend, but none of them can compare to him finally meeting lenore in person. the whole being incorporeal thing is very handy when it comes to nearly falling into your own soup.

the rest of the story goes very similarly. the murders begin. one by one, our guests are picked off, strangely befitting deaths, thematically. lenore begins to spend more time around hg - he’s a genius and he can’t be killed! he’s, like, the perfect guy! - and they eventually get to talking, and then to befriending. hg tells her his life and death stories, though they’re both terribly boring. lenore, in exchange, tells him about being a runaway bride, her vengeful ex, and something about food poisoning.

hg begins to experiment, using lenore as his hands because becoming corporeal would require too much energy, and he comes up with a way to surveil the house around them without having to leave the attic. they’d be safe. he leaves to set up his newfound cameras eventually.

he comes back. the attic is filled with smoke.

lenore dies in his arms. even in death, herbert george is still a terrible name. he drags her body downstairs only to run into the cops, makes up some unbelievable lie about poison and comas and allergies, and for some reason they take it at face value.

they call in mary shelley, later, the necromancer that brought him back to life, sort of. she’s able to help them reconnect with all of their lost friends, for a moment.

(well. almost all of their lost friends.)

annabel survives. edgar does not.

it turns out that anne brontë is not anne brontë but rather charlotte brontë disguised as her sister, hellbent on revenge for what annabel’s taken from her. or… something. hg isn’t quite sure. but she brings in reinforcements - eduardo “eddie” dantes and a man named guy de vere who sounds far too familiar-

hang on.

they end up outside, eventually, somehow. annabel drives charlotte to the edge of the river. it’s not very deep, but the rocks are slippery and perhaps a little too sharp, and when she slips she doesn’t come back up for a while. she doesn’t come back up at all, some might say.

with nowhere else to go, the fight ends quickly. unfortunately, this leaves hg and annabel in an empty house with more ghosts than before - in both the literal and metaphorical sense, though primarily the latter. they spend their days in a haze, unfocused and lonely, despite still having each other.

and then, one day, as hg is tinkering with his thousandth rendition of a time machine (he’s still holding out hope), the attic fills with smoke once more. he panics on instinct, but there’s no need.

when the smoke clears, lenore is standing in front of him, ghostly and yet beautiful nonetheless.

(and then they get edgar back too and they all live happily ever after etc etc.)

[ineffably-poetic]

this is random BUT!

I found this random dude named Aleister Crowley.

Obviously as a Good Omens fan I got excited.

+ almost the same initials!! AJC and AC. or, without other names, AC and AC!

FIRST OF ALL.

SO MANY COLLEGES.

Second: This man is an occultist which is just kinda cool. Third of all: he founded an entire religion??? Fourth of all, he has the same name as Crowley so of course I had to investigate further.

So here’s some fun facts about Mr Crowley that make me really hope AJC was named after him:

• He was allegedly recruited to be part of a British Intelligence Agency, and was probably a spy his entire life. that’s badass

• Basically his religion, Thelema, was created when this god in Cairo, Egypt gave him a Book of Law on his honeymoon or something. And it was like “you gotta find your true will, and practice majick.” So they made a religion out of it

• Now here’s the best part: he was bisexual. yeah that’s right.

• He dated a guy named Herbert Charles Pollitt, who was part of a comedy club. that’s just really fun

• He LOVED Scotland, and he would wear traditional highland dress even in London

• He was part of the Hermatic Order of the Golden Dawn, but was basically cast out because he was bisexual, which sucks

• He had an affair with Ada Leverson, a woman who was friends with Oscar Wilde

Obviously he did some strange shit too, like a blood sacrifice at one point, and like so many affairs.

But he definitely made his way around and survived a couple diseases, like malaria, as well as both world wars, before dying at the old age of 72 (when the life expectancy was about 64). He was cremated and scattered in his garden in Hampton, New Jersey.

So yeah. There’s my interesting history fact for the day, I guess. Who knows, maybe this guys inspired the Anthony J. Crowley. I don’t have the courage to tag Mr Gaiman so someone else ask haha

bye guys have a good day <3

[james-vi-stan-blog]

I seen you were answering to the other anon so I just wanted to ask some questions:) did King James knew about Mary having George to seduce him?

I’ve seen someone say they’ve explained to people that George was a victim of James. And they’ve also said James had power over him ( taking advantage of his financial situation) and to make George “essentially one of his pets and become extremely obsessive over him” and I’m wondering how? From what I’ve read it never came across like that or I never understood it as that

-☁️

I don't know enough about the details of the Villiers' rise to know exactly, but I think that everyone involved always knew that everyone was associated with some faction or another, and that every handsome young courtier who appeared on the scene as a potential favorite was being backed by someone.

James was king from the age of 15 months. When he came to the English throne at the age of 36, he was an extremely savvy veteran of the intense infighting and backstabbing of the Scottish court. Besides Lennox, he had already had intense relationships with men like Huntly and Bothwell which were steeped in factional drama. In his later years James was savvy to attempts to throw pretty boys in front of him in an attempt to distract him from George and sharply reprimanded the promoters of William Monson, etc.

But at the same time that James was extremely aware of the political maneuverings going on, I think he had a bit of a naive belief in the power of love. In Scotland, he aggressively countered clan blood feuds by marrying nobles to each other, and he constantly forgave Huntly and Bothwell when they professed friendship and love for him -- astonished onlookers watching as he'd embrace and kiss Huntly and go to bed with him right after threatening to raise an army against him. It seemed like he really believed true love could overcome all.

These two contradictory orientations seem to exist within James at the same time.

When George Villiers was rising, Robert Carr, the current favorite and the first since Esmé Stewart to achieve massive political power, was in trouble, gradually withdrawing intimacy from James (maybe because of his marriage to Frances Howard). At this time, James was still trying to repair the relationship with Carr, and did not immediately promote Villiers to the bedchamber, instead doing a favor to Carr and promoting one of Carr's nephews instead. However, Carr failed to regain the king's affections and was disgraced by the Overbury scandal, and Villiers was strongly pushed forward by a large anti-Carr faction including former favorites William and Philip Herbert (the latter of which is "Sir Philip" from Gunpowder 2017), the Archbishop of Canterbury, and also James's wife Queen Anna herself.

Almost all of these people regretted promoting George when George became 10x the grasping politician and megalomaniac that Robert was, lol.

So like, again... if the question here is "Was this an unproblematic relationship? Was James the bad guy? Did George freely choose to enter this relationship? Who used whom?" ... I feel like these are extremely strange attitudes to take about the 17th century.

All relationships were problematic. (I mean, please think for a second about the state of heterosexual marriage at this time.) Everyone was horrible. Nobody was ever able to freely choose anything. Everyone's every action was part of an intricate web of power, politics, desire, manipulation, greed... Sometimes people might try to act unselfishly, or think that they're justified, but there simply is no way for a clean, consensual, egalitarian relationship to exist in this environment. Human rights, such as we recognize them, do not exist. This is 70+ years before John Locke's "life, liberty, and pursuit of property".

This was just what love and politics was like for people in this world. I mean, also consider what kind of life James lived as a cradle king. Every second of every day he was waited on by a huge retinue, every move scrutinized. People could not even enter his presence and converse with him unless they were backed by a political faction and provided with the resources, political connections, rank to enter the very most elite sphere of society. James wasn't just down at the grocery store casually meeting guys, going on cafe dates. (He would never, anyway, because he was terrified of assassination. As you would be when like half of your family was assassinated and there were constant actual attempts at assassinating YOU.)

In this environment, uncoerced, fair love as we see it today cannot exist.

And further, I really don't think that characterizing George as a helpless victim in this situation make sense. As a 21-year-old man, he had the age of majority; he had vastly more freedom to make his own way in life than, say, a daughter would. We cannot know how he felt, so fiction will be an interesting opportunity to explore what he might have subjectively felt like at this time. But we can see from behavior just how skillfully and determinedly he played the game. (I mean, check out this analysis of his finances in 1624.)

Was it demeaning, disgusting, hurtful? Was it glorious, his opportunity to shine, to make himself the most powerful man in England by sheer charm alone? We just can't know, but we can wonder.

[forthegothicheroine]

from the 1980s to the 2010s, what would be your scarecrow cast picks from each decade?

First off, let me establish that I am fine with Hot Scarecrow or Not Hot Scarecrow. Beautiful people can still suffer trauma from school bullying, and non-beautiful people can still have villainous charisma. With that in mind...

80s: Jeffrey Combs, no question. I think he actually voiced Scarecrow on some of the cartoons, but this is more of me wanting a hybrid between his Herbert West and his Doctor Strange Mordrid, a shy academic just on the verge of teetering over into cackling mad scientist.

90s: I thought over a lot of reasonable choices for this, but since this would have been a Batman film from when Burton was at his most creative, I decided on a wilder choice- Alan Rickman. He can keep it cool or ham it up, as he chooses, but I really just want to hear his drawn out voice say ominous things from underneath a burlap bag over his head.

00s: Cillian Murphy is the guy who first made me love Scarecrow, so I'm sticking with him. True, he isn't quite the Scarecrow of the comics, but he is intensely creepy, and if there had been more exploration of his character, I think there could have been more of the comics version in the mix. He started out scaring people in defense, then in revenge, then he came to simply enjoy it.

10s: I was really tempted to pick a skinny teen heartthrob like Timothy Chalamet just for maximum fandom chaos, but I'm going to go for a different kind of fandom chaos and say Kyle MacLachlan. I haven't seen Agents of SHIELD, but I did see Twin Peaks the Return and know he can be creepy. This an older, more professorial Crane, deep into his career, and he can be charming and sweet while you can also believe he murdered every single one of his school bullies and most of his family.

[titleknown]

KAIJUNE NEO: MR BRIGHTSIDE

First of all, I want to tell you, this was not at all my fault. If they'd have listened, if they'd have gone along with the fucking plan, none of this would have happened.

The stupid thing wasn't even alive when they brought it to me. But, even I will humbly admit, it was ingredients of high quality. Primeval flesh frozen by time and strange vapors, the tools of the United States government, the very eitir of the earth...

...Yes, I refuse to call it liquid God. Beyond the apellation of false notions of divinity, it isn't just one thing, there are nuances I would be willing to explain if I believed you had the capacity to understand it. But I digress.

Now, there were initial setbacks. There were the few interlopers, who suggested that I was ethically unfit for this project, that the resource expendatures could be better-used to prevent the beasts out there culling the expendable hordes, that the whole idea of the creation of one of these creatures was deranged vanity project. 

Luckily, the people providing the resources were of like minds, even if their sights was far too low. Leave it to the US military to avoid pretensions of compassion when they see a work to be compleated.

It was going well, at first. Why, I hadn't had this much of a fruitful field since my time with the Blue Rose! They let me be, they didn't say no, and I hadn't had this much access to subjects since... well. The Blue Rose.

I will tell you, it's far easier to test the processes of life and power when they know enough to let you use a few expendables, unlike some idiots.

And then one of these puritanical SHITHEADS had to break in for one of my subjects. I don't even know what the fuss was about, I'd already used up the one he was looking for. And the idiots didn't even shoot him! Just now you get cold feet?! Just now?!

And now it is awake. And ungrateful. What's wrong you giant oaf, I thought you were a god-being, lashing out like a child over a little pain is pathetic!

At least the combative capabilities were functional, as evidenced by the plasma "fires" they still failed to put out. A small blessing, amongst the carnival of incompetence as my handlers failed to handle it.

They use the pretense to call me a creature of hubris, a terminal miles glorosius. They underestimate my skill. 

They even had the gall to call me a Faustian figure, how fucking dare! I would never make a deal with anything I couldn't cut the throat of and sip the juices from their neck.

And I will regain control over this creature, and I will enact my special plan for this world. For who is greater, God or the chymist who built God in a bottle...

-The notes of professor Thomas F. Johnson

-----------------

...So, when starting this I knew I was going to have to have some variety of dinosaur here. Lucjkily I found this cheapo toy at the Swap Meet and, as you can see, heavily modified it. This one out of all of them was one of my favorite models in terms of how it came out, I will say.

I basically picked the name of the poor tormented thing because I just thought Mr Brightside by The Killers sounded like a neat name for a kaiju, also the neon-on-black color scheme was probably a part of it.

If you're wondering why the profoundly evil professor (Who was heavily influenced by Dr Pretorius from Bride of Frankenstein and Jeffrey Combs' Herbert West, for the record) has my name, they're actually a pre-existing character from my Creepypasta Creatures of the Woods, who I made the choice to give my own name despite him being hilariously far from me. 

Again, like Devlin, this is this universe's version of the guy, not the exact same guy... maybe. It's always hard to tell with that jerk...

Ability Notes: One word: Plasma. Of all kinds and horrors, usually sort of a weird electrical fire-y green, though the fact that he's in constant pain makes it hard for him to focus on channeling it beyond wanton destruction. It's theorized where he mentally coherent, he could potentially output pulsar levels of power.

Bonus Trivia: If you want to know Professor Johnson's backstory, just watch the Behind the Bastards episodes about Scott Adams and note what they say about the man's early pre-Dilbert life. Now imagine he'd gone into mad science and things had... escalated.

And, in that grand (exceedingly late) Kaijune tradition, this character and all related narrative elements are under a CC-BY 4.0 license, as long as I, Thomas F Johnson, am credited as their creator. 

[ao3feed-crimeboys]

thick skull never did (nothing for me)

by Peachy_crow

Wilbur has only ever known this little church, serving the Blood God. His whole life revolves around it, he's not allowed to leave, but he's fine with that.

at least he thinks so, until a strange blonde teen keeps showing up and annoying him.

or,

Blood God!Tommy, Priest! Wilbur and a whole lot of angst and religious trauma :D

Words: 5139, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Dream SMP

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Categories: Gen

Characters: Wilbur Soot, TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Original Male Character(s), Samsung Smart Fridge (Dream SMP), yes yes I think I'm hilarious

Relationships: Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit

Additional Tags: Mentioned Jschlatt (Video Blogging RPF), Fictional Religion & Theology, Blood God TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Priest Wilbur Soot, Blood, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Self-Harm, Human Sacrifice, Character Death, religious trauma, Religious Cults, i think thats everything, please let me know if i should tag anything else, fuck herbert all my homies hate the guy I made up to hate, no beta we die like hmmm spoilers

[ikkaku-of-heart]

@miskatonicfolly asked: "Don't you think that it's a bit odd that there's suddenly a large influx of new residents to Arkham?" Herbert asked with a slight yawn. He shifted the voice box of the den den to be able to hold it better as he scribbled notes. It was getting later but it had been difficult to actually get a call through to Ikkaku recently and he didn't want to lose the opportunity. Unprompted

Ikkaku pursed her lips in thought as she took in Herbert's words. She'd gotten the call on her personal den den mushi, much to the surprise of Hakugan who had been feeding the ship's snails, and had been pleasantly surprised that it was Herbert, who had decided she needed to be filled in on the recent developments back on Joras. The doctor, despite his wonky ethics and disturbing experiments, had become a trusted friend and if he found something suspicious, she knew to take it seriously.

"Depends on what you mean. New residents to the city of Arkham is exactly what the islanders want. It means that people are starting to look past the freaky history and old superstitions and see the island as worth living on. Gets them closer to being seen by the World Government as respectable." She had to grimace at that thought. A lot of what the islanders had done in the past century had been in the vain hope of the World Government respecting them instead of being seen as a superstitious backwater. "And you know damn well anything the World Government approves of is typically bad news."

Laying back on her bed, Ikkaku stared at the ceiling, her brow furrowing further. "But if you're talking about an influx of residents to Arkham Hospital...yeah, that's bad no matter how you look at it. Last time that happened was the Siren Plague, and I don't think Joras would survive a third of the population getting wiped out again. And I definitely don't want lobotomies to come back into fashion."

With a sigh, she rubbed her forehead. How was it that despite leaving that horrible place in the dust she still cared just a tiny bit about the people there? Even though they'd treated her like shit?

Oh. Right. Gramps. He'd taught her well that even though the people didn't deserve it, it was their job to protect the thankless fools who depended on the Light to protect them.

"Ok, have any other noticeable things been going on that could be a connection? People noticeably going mad? Or is this being kept quiet?"

[ikkaku-of-heart]

miskatonicfolly​:

Herbert was a very private person. He kept to himself. Everyone knew it. And they quite preferred that he was not a sociable person. Just about any person that met him wanted to get as far away from him as possible in a timely manner. It was a trait of people that Herbert actually enjoyed. A lack of bothersome fools made it easier to do his work.

But what was truly bothersome was the occasional twinge of deep-seated loneliness that followed such a life of solitude. It didn’t hit often, but when it did, it often left Herbert winded and nauseous. It was a cursed sensation he was literally unable to remove himself. That need of others only ever added to the queasy feeling gripping his stomach.

In recent times though, there had been a palatable cure: a visit from Ikkaku.

Herbert grumbled as he pushed his glasses up into his hair before rubbing his eyes. He sat at the desk in his basement lab. Water-stained tomes and dozens of pages of notes lay scattered out before him. Below these items lay a map of Arkham and the surrounding land that corralled it in. Notes scribbled in doctor chicken-scratch lay scattered about various sections of the map.

He looked to the right side of the table. There was a smaller map, an interior map, laying near the corner. It was old and tattered, long forgotten by many Arkham citizens who lay blissfully unaware in their silver-guarded homes.

Herbert scoffed and slipped his glassed back into place before he grabbed his notepad. Taking a breath, he slowed his hand as he wrote. In clear script, he addressed the letter to Ikkaku. He looked at the map on the table again before returning to his letter: Ikkaku, I am sure that you are in favorable health. I have stumbled upon a discovery of possible interest to us both. I must admit that I would be appreciative of having your insight on my findings. Should your situation not be dire or overly taxing, I suggest that perhaps it would be a benefit for you to return home for a short time. Herbert

He reread the letter once before grabbing an envelope. Instructions for delivery were written on the front before he stood and went to deliver it to the mail service.

It still confounded him how mail birds could always find the proper pirates but the bumbling World Government never could.

There was a lack of logic to their world made Herbert’s head ache.

The Miskatonic Ferry chugged smoothly up the river towards Arkham, as it had done for decades. Standing on the deck, the collar of an old blue coat flipped up to shield her face from anyone who might feel the urge to do more than glance at her, Ikkaku read over Herbert's letter for the third time in the last hour. Mostly to keep herself busy and more specifically look busy so fewer people would be tempted to bother her. It had been a few years since she'd left Joras, but not so long that her face would have been forgotten. Especially considering how she now had a wanted poster to remind them.

Coming back to her home island was typically at the bottom of her list of things she ever wanted to do. Even for a short visit. But Herbert was her friend, and she needed...well, not a vacation, but a place away from the Tang to sort out her head.

She'd been messing up lately. Making mistakes no matter how hard she tried, which she couldn't afford as the ship's mechanic. Screw ups from her could be deadly for the whole crew. Part of her knew it had to do with the lack of sleep she'd been getting lately. Nightmares had been haunting her far more than usual, and even sedatives and naps with Bepo hadn't been able to keep them at bay. So, Law had ordered her to step back and get her head straight. He had big plans and while he loved his engineer, he needed her to be at her best if he wanted them to succeed.

Then Herbert's letter arrived, and the timing made her suspicious. Gramps always told her that the Creator Turtle always found a way to get him to wherever He needed to send his Light Keepers, so this felt like it could very well be such a situation. And that was the case here, hopefully once it was over, she'd be able to come back to the Hearts fresh and ready to start their next adventure.

The ferry came to a halt, and Ikkaku didn't hesitate to get off of the steamboat. The sooner she found Herbert, the sooner all of this could be over. And she did enjoy his company, odd as he was. It was nice to have a friend who understood some of her cultural oddities, even if he was more of a fan of the island than she was.

Peering out over the crowd, Ikkaku recognized the short, spectacled doctor off by one of the fountains. Rushing over, she engulfed him in a hug. "Been a while, Herbert," she said with a tired grin. "What do you say we go somewhere drier where you can fill me in on these findings without the risk of someone recognizing a wanted pirate, eh?"

[xandriagreat]

Teaching and Learning with The Paw | chapter 2: Granny Gumbo

First chapter | Last Chapter | Next Chapter

Author's note: This story is ALIVE! Sorry that it's been so long. Writer's block… but anyway, story! Also, a hug thank you to @vanessafangirl13 for helping me with this chapter and to let you all know that the names of Diane’s parents is something that we both chose.

Notice/Warnings: weapons, anger, sad past, good ending

▪▪▪

Governor Moe Wolf drove to the hideout of the Paw with his team/friends.

The hideout is in the abandoned part of the city.

He parked his car and got out of his car before they went inside by the garage door.

They looked around at the almost empty house.

There were a few boxes that were filled with the treasures that Diane had stolen over the years and there were some folded cardboard boxes.

The only things that weren’t packed were things behind a locked bedroom door.

Lou picked up the folded cardboard boxes and carried them as the five went to unlock the door.

“You still got your lockpicks?” Herbert asked, looking at Moe.

“You know that I do.” the wolf answered, taking out lockpicks. He started to pick the lock and got the door opened, turning the lights on.

They entered the room and looked around in curiosity.

The room looked ordinary. It felt it was fit for what a child would think a princess bed room would be but it also had a punk rock feel.

The walls were painted a crimson red golden lining, and the carpet was black.

A metal bed frame with white and black sheets over the mattress. There were pick and yellow pillowcases on her bed along with an orange comforter over the bed.

Up against the wall on the left side of the bed was an old-fashioned drawer. There was a chair in the cournor that faced the bed. A desk against the wall and a medium sized window above it.

There were a few photos, some rock and roll posters, and some ninja posters on the wall.

There was an old TV with VHS and DVD player on top of a TV stand. On the lower shelf of the TV stand was a CD player, some CDs and DVDs.

“Wow.” all five of The Bad Guys breathed as they looked around.

“Strange.” Stefaine said under her breath as she looked at her phone.

"What's wrong?" Lou asked, looking at her on his shoulder.

“These things aren’t on the stolen list.” Stefaine said, looking up to look at everyone, who were looking at her confused. “Look.”

She showed them her phone to show the list.

The things in the room weren’t on the list.

“That is strange.” Herbert said before shrugging. “But we should still get things packed.”

Everyone nodded as they got some of the folded cardboard boxes unfolded and taped.

Before they started packing, Moe looked at the photos on the walls.

“Hey, guys. Look at this.” the wolf said, pointing at the photos.

The team looked at the photos.

There were a few photos of a young fox and her parents. One of the photos was of the same young fox and an alligator. Another was the same young fox with a young bunny rabbit.

The young fox looked like Diane.

“Hey, the little fox looks like Diane!” Pepe exclaimed, pointing at the photos. “That’s probably Diane.” Lou said, looking at him.

Then they heard the clicking sound of a shotgun behind them. All five turned around and saw an old female alligator, who was holding a shotgun.

“You all have a lot of explaining to do to be here in the Foxington residence, trespassers.” the alligator growled at them.

☆◇

The Bad Guys were sitting on the bed and looked in fear at the old female alligator who was sitting in the chair across the bed.

The alligator was wearing an off white button up shirt, brown overalls, black boots, and a dark green sunhat.

“I’m not into politics but why is the governor of LA and his team here?” the alligator asked in a stern tone, glaring at them as she still held the shotgun. “Why are you five in my god daughter’s home?”

The Bad Guys looked at the wolf as if he could explain. “Um… well, we’re like friends of Diane’s. And she literally gave directions to this place so we could give everything that she had stolen back to the places she stole.” Moe explained, looking at the alligator again.

The alligator glared at him and pointed the shotgun at him. “I don’t believe you, mutt dog.” she growled at him. “Unless you have evidence.”

The fear in Moe’s eyes became a glared look. “Don’t call me that.” he said, a serious look on his face. “Also, we do have evidence.”

The alligator lowered her gun and placed it on her lap. The alligator ignored him as she looked at the others and asked, “Is he tellin' the truth?”

The others nodded.

"Show me." she ordered, stretching her clawed hand out to them.

Moe was about to get the map, that Diane gave him at the gala, from his suit jacket but Herbert stopped him. “Wait. Let’s make a deal first.” the snake said, looking at his friends before looking at the alligator.

“What is the deal?” the alligator asked, a growl in her voice as she pulled her hand back.

Herbert looked at her, his eyes cold, as he said, “We show evidence if you answer some questions that we have about Diane. Also, if we don’t get shot by your shotgun, we don’t need to file a report on you. As far as I can tell, your shotgun is old fashioned and not a lot of places can sell that. So…” Then Herbert shrugged with a bit of a smug look on his face. “Do we have an agreement?”

The gang watched the alligator, who was thinking if it was a good deal or not. “We do.” the gator said, nodding. Then she stretched her claw hand out again and Moe got the map out as the rest of the gang sigh in relief.

The alligator snatched it from him and looked at it. Then she got a piece of paper from her pocket and looked at both papers, comparing the two.

The silence was a bit awkward for a while until Stefaine spoke up, “So… you must be Granny Gumbo. Right?”

The alligator stopped comparing the two papers and looked at Stefanie. “I am known by that name in my small town in the woods.” The alligator replied. “My actual name is Gretel Nyx Gumbo, but a lot of people call me Granny Gumbo for I’m one of the living elders of the town.”

Stefanie hummed and nodded with the others.

Granny Gumbo gave the map back to Moe. “I see that you were tellin’ the truth.” the alligator said as she put the piece of paper back in her pocket.

The Bad Guys sighed in relief.

"You all probably have some questions, since you mentioned it in the deal." Granny Gumbo said, placing the shotgun next to her seat. "You can ask questions. Just don't ask about the Lost Girls. I only met them a few times."

The Bad Guys nodded in understanding.

“I have a question!” Pepe said, raising his fin.

Granny Gumbo nodded to him. “Go ahead.”

“So… is all the stuff in this room stolen or was the stuff here before?” the piranha asked, pointing at the tv.

Granny Gumbo looked at the room before looking at Pepe. “The stuff has been here before Diane became The Paw. This is Diane’s childhood room. Actually, this house is her childhood home, the place where she grew up.” she replied, smiling a bit.

Pepe was in awe as he looked around the room as the rest of the gang hummed, figuring that Granny Gumbo was done with the question.

Moe raised his hand to ask the next question. Granny Gumbo noticed his hand and nodded to him to let him speak. “So, um… How do you know Diane?” Moe asked.

Granny looked at him for a moment before answering, “Owen and Margaret Foxington, Diane’s parents, used to have a summer home long before she came along. They were like my neighbors during the summer time. We didn’t get to know each other a lot until Diane came along and was at the age of three years old. That little fox was very curious about me. So curious that she walked over to me while I was resting in the sun. I was surprised to see her by me.”

Then pointed at the photo of the little fox and alligator on the wall. “See that photo there? That’s me and Diane on the last summer before that horrible day happened.”

The Bad Guys were shocked and confused by this. “What do you mean?” Stefaine asked the question.

Granny looked at the five and asked, “Do you five know about The Nevergreen Camps?”

Herbert, Moe, Lou, and Stefaine were shocked while Pepe was confused. “I don’t.” Pepe said, looking at his friends. “What is that? Or what was it?”

Everyone in the room was quiet for a moment. “Remember what happened during the second world war?” Herbert asked, looking at Pepe.

The piranha nodded. “Yeah. I learned what happened. It was another big war and a lot of lives were lost. And those scary camps… What does that have to do with The Nevergreen Camps?”

“It’s similar to the camps but it’s more for predators and it was a bit more recent.” Granny Gumbo answered.

Pepe’s eyes widened. “How recent?”

“22 years ago.” Granny Gumbo said, a sound of a bit of sadness in her voice. “She was only eight years old at the time. She was ten years old when it was over.”

Pepe was in shock with everyone else while Granny Gumbo shrugged before continuing, “Anyway, with that aside. The number on her back is branding like on cattle or prisoner numbers way back in the day…”

The Bad Guys nodded, still in shock.

Granny Gumbo sighed, taking her hat off and rubbing her head with her free hand. “Do you all have any more questions?” she asked, putting her hat back on.

Pepe raised his hand again and asked, “Who was in charge of the Nevergreen?”

Granny looked at the piranha and shrugged. “It… depends on who you see is at fault.” she explained, looking at him.

“What do you mean?” four of the Bad Guys asked in confusion, not seeing the one ask becoming red.

“It was Everett Evergreen!” Herbert shouted angrily, getting up from his seat. “He was the one who wanted predators locked away and turned into animal products!”

Granny Gumbo got up from her seat and looked down at Herbert. “I know.” she growled, a dangerous look in her eye. “But he wasn’t the only one at fault.”

Moe carefully grabbed Herbert by the neck and pulled him back to his seat when it looked like Granny was about to step to him. But instead she walked to the desk as she added, “Everyone thought that it was James Wonder, the owner of the Wonder farms at the time, after giving Everett one of the farmlands.”

Granny Gumbo went back to her seat with an old newspaper. “There’s a reason why they lost that part of farmland.” she said as she sat down. Then Granny Gumbo cleared her throat before she continued, “James Wonder, the owner at the time, was struggling with that farmland. He wanted to plant crops and trees for the business but nothing was growing. That’s when Everett Evergreen came into the picture and offered a deal with him.”

The Bad Guys got interested in this. “What was the deal?” they asked, their eyes wide.

“The deal was if James gives Everett that part of land, Everett would give money to him after selling products that he would be using.” Granny Gumbo said, looking at them. “Everett didn’t tell James what it was and James didn’t mind until two years after the deal. That’s when Abby, his youngest child, went missing around Easter time. That’s when the truth came out.”

Then Granny Gumbo gave Moe the newspapers and The Bad Guys looked at it.

A Two Year Agreement Broken

James Wonder and the rest of the Wonder Family found out what product that Everett Evergreen was using after finding Abby Wonder, the youngest of the Wonder Family, in a gas room with a young fox.

The gas room was on the grounds of a dangerous campsite that used to be one of the old Wonder farms before Evergreen took over it.

It turns out that it was similar to what happened in World War 2, a dangerous camp just for predators.

After finding out and getting the survivors' help, James shut it down and the camps were destroyed.

No one knows where Everett Evergreen is.

The Bad Guys looked at Granny Gumbo, who looked lost in a bad memory for a moment. “It was the biggest and scariest thing in history.” Granny Gumbo said when she came back to the present. “Thankfully she survived the horrors of that place with the other survivors.”

“Yeah…” Herbert said, nodding slowly.

The Bad Guys were processing what they learned.

Then their attention went to Granny Gumbo when she hummed. “Are there any more questions? Or are we done?” she asked, looking at them.

The gang looked at each other before Lou raised his fin. “I have one question.”

“Go ahead.” the gator said, nodding to him.

“Is the Nevergreens Camps the reason that Diane has those scar burn marks?” the shark asked, rubbing his lower back a reference. “The ones on her lower back.”

Granny Gumbo was quiet before nodding. “Yes… She got the burn numbers from there… All of the predators that were there got different burn numbers.”

Then the gator sighed and got up from her seat as The gang also got up from their seats.

As Granny Gumbo got her shotgun, she looked at the five. “Oh, thank you five for helping Diane.” she said, smiling a bit as she walked out the room.

The Bad Guys were surprised.

“How did you know?” Pepe asked, his eyes wide as he and the gang followed her.

Granny Gumbo turned around to look at the five before leaving. “I figured that you five were the ones who helped her. Since she doesn’t let a lot of people help her and by the looks of it, she trusts you five.” Granny said, smiling softly.

The Bad Guys looked at each other, smiling a bit with the same thought going through their heads, ‘Diane trusts us.’

The five started a huddle, talking about something before Granny Gumbo left.

The alligator looked at them with a confused look.

The Bad Guys finished talking and broke the huddle, looking at the alligator.

“We trust you and we want to help.” Moe said as the gang nodded. “With investigating the camps.”

Granny Gumbo nodded and hummed, “That’s very brave of the five of you. But I suggest not going in head first of this investigation.”

“Then what should we do first?” Stefaine asked.

“I suggest that you five see Abby Wonder.” Granny said, opening the door to the garage. “Also, don’t overwork yourselves with this and your other lifes. Your bodies will thank you.”

Then Granny Gumbo left, leaving The Bad Guys by themselves, packed boxes, and their thoughts.

“Hey, Webs.” Moe said, getting the gang’s attention. “Get an appointment with Abby Wonder, please. We got to know what happened.”

The gang nodded and the five left the place, turning off the lights and locking up the place before leaving.

[randomvarious]

Ted Taylor - "Something Strange Is Going on in My House" Super Blues Legends, Volume 1 Song released in 1970. Compilation released in 1998. Soul-Blues

Plays: 81.7K on Spotify // 13.4K on YouTube

Ted Taylor was a terrific, label-hopping soul-blues vocalist who unjustifiably flew under the radar throughout most of his three decades-plus career. He possessed such a powerful and distinctly high-pitched voice that had this charmingly slick southern pastor's drawl to it, even with a natural whistle appended to the ends of certain words. And I really hate to make this comparison, but it's unfortunately true: at a certain point in his career, he sort of sounded like if Herbert from Family Guy—yeah, the old pedophile—could sing. Taylor tragically died in a car accident in 1987 at 53 years old, but I wonder if the guy who voices Herbert, Mike Henry, drew any inspiration from Taylor's music, because there appears to be an irrefutable similarity there between the voices���and only the voices—of the character and singer.

Anyhoo, Taylor's music career began after moving from his home of Okmulgee, Oklahoma to Los Angeles in 1952. After joining a couple gospel groups and one of them turning towards secular R&B and doo wop, he decided to go solo, and would bounce around a whole bunch of different labels throughout the rest of his career, from Laurie, to Okeh, to Atco, to Epic, and to MCA, to name some of the most popular ones.

But where he wound up finding the most stability was on the Shreveport, Louisiana-based Jewel Records' subsidiary Ronn, for whom he recorded a steady stream of 7-inches from '67 to '74, and then returned in '77 and '81 for a couple more.

Taylor managed to chart a bunch of his singles onto both the Billboard Hot 100 and R&B charts, but neither showings were particularly impressive. His biggest commercial successes were "Push Push," which he released in 1960 as Austin Taylor on Laurie (#90, Hot 100) and "Stay Away From My Baby," released in 1965 on Okeh (#99, Hot 100; #14, R&B).

But his second-most commercially successful single on the R&B chart was the great "Something Strange Is Going on in My House," a fun and playful sub-3-minute, lightly funky soul-blues tune sung from the perspective of Taylor that was released in 1970 on Ronn and managed to hit #26. In 1998, Jewel included it on their Super Blues Legends, Volume 1 compilation, which is where I first came across it.

On this song, Taylor recounts a couple highly curious situations that lead him to suspect that his wife or girlfriend is cheating on him. But the song actually has a lighthearted nature to it, with his full backing band supplying some neat tricks to accompany his narration. For example, the bass, and then the piano, emulate a creeping tiptoe on the chorus to represent the unwelcome person that’s likely in Taylor’s house. And in the second verse, he mentions a weird scratching noise coming from the room next to him, and as he does this, the funky guitar, for an ever so subtle split-second, speeds up, which symbolizes that scratching noise. Cool!

In the end, Taylor resolves two things: one, he's going to lay out a trap to catch his lady and her side-piece together, and two, he's not going to end his relationship, but he's going to find his own side-piece in order to get even. Spicy!

Fun and overlooked early 70s single from this pretty underrated soul-blues singer who possessed such a unique and enjoyably high-pitched voice. 

[meant-to-be-a-hero]

hi 💚 can I request you post a little snippet of each of those wips of yours, if you have one / would like to share one, please? love you!

Ooh, okay, uh, let's see.

There's nothing coherent enough of Hellfire to share just yet, but the other two are legible at least.

Under a cut, because these are long.

This is the opening of chapter one of The Price Of Victory:

Alex clicked the safety off of her handgun and peered down the sights. The laser pointer beamed against the opposite wall, bouncing back at her like an accusation. It was still calibrated perfectly – she should know, she'd done it herself. But it didn't stop her checking.

"Is that really necessary?" Jordan asked from beside her, not for the first time. "West might be a nutcase, but is he really going to be that dangerous?"

"For the last time Jordan, he's had the Necronomicon for six months. Who knows what he could have done with it? He was insane before he got his hands on that damn book, and I'm sure it hasn't exactly improved his mental capacity."

"But still, a gun?"

"Yes. A gun. And I'm not having this discussion again."

Alex moved further into the darkness, her ears on alert for anything that her eyes couldn't see. She heard Jordan huff from behind, but his footsteps fell into synch with hers.

Six months. Six months it had taken them to finally get a decent lead on Herbert West. Six months of searching across the country for reports of strange disappearances, six months of the same arguments.

The air between Alex and Jordan was chilly, and not just because the refinery was old. After Bedlam, they had tried to return to how they had been before. Before the insanity, before the Deep Ones, and Mother Hydra, and Father Dagon. Even before Cthulhu and Crafton.

They both wanted to. They'd both tried so hard to put the past behind them and move on. But while Cthulhu was out there, constantly trying to breach the walls of reality and flood the world, there was no moving on. There was only running away. And Alex couldn't do that any more.

And this is from chapter 10 of Swing My Way:

"Harrington, I'm going to wring your neck!" Robin rounded on him once she’d shut the door, and he backed away like she'd drawn a gun. "What did I say? What did we agree to?"

"That I wouldn't use my powers until I knew what I could do?" he hazarded, still unable to get the smile off his face despite Robin's fury.

"And on what planet does 'not using your powers' translate into 'stopping a bank robbery'? You were all over the news last night!"

Steve hadn't seen that; he'd fallen asleep as soon as he got back from the café, and hadn't had time to check the feeds this morning. His smile grew wider. "I made the news?"

"Yes, you idiot! 'Scarf-faced lunatic and dude in black suit stop fire' is everywhere! Even Nancy wrote something about it! Stop grinning!"

"But it's good, isn't it? Now people have seen me. They know I'm one of the good guys."

Robin shook her head like Steve was the dumbest man on the planet. "You're impossible. You couldn't have waited one more day?"

Finally, Steve felt a little anger of his own. "That bank was being robbed, Robin. I could stop it. So I did. I may have gotten these weird powers in some like, twist of fate, but I'm not about to just sit back when people need me. You know me better than that."

Robin sighed, and he saw some of the anger slip out of her. "I know, Steve. I just...you could have been seen. You could have been caught, or worse. If what you said about Brenner is true, you can guarantee that he'll be looking for you now."

"That's why I had the scarf!" He pulled it out of his pocket and waved it in front of her. "See? No one knew it was me!"