#death stranding roleplay | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tacticalhimbo · 9 months ago

Text

Agent of Change: A Post-Canon Hitman World of Assassination Ficlet

Ever since the initial reversal of the conditioning Agent 47 had undergone at the hands of the Institute, he has struggled with the cost of remembering. All the lives he's taken. All the lives he's ruined. Even that of his closest accomplice, who has given him so much without the expectation of anything return; he hates it. He feels guilty. And, unknowingly on the date of her family's death, he apologizes to Diana for everything.

WORDS: 1.3k

FANDOMS: Hitman

This was a spur of the moment piece inspired by my partner and I developing our own little roleplay AU. Written in one shot with little to no looking over or beta reading.

'The gun never wonders whether it is on the side of good or not, son. It merely acts.'

'The gun doesn't remember, doctor.'

'Nor should you. That's not your job. While you're remembering things? Remember what happens when you let them affect you. Remember Minulescu. What happened there because of you.'

—

Flashes of decades' old violence came to 47 in turbulent waves. Would consume him briefly; overtake his senses until he found himself fixated on whatever happened to be before him. Muscles wound tight every time, fists idly clenching and unclenching as he lost himself in the coursing sensations. Lost himself in the increasing frequency of these moments. Ever since 6—Lucas. Ever since Lucas had helped him remember the depths of Providence's reign of terror, he'd been unstable. Emotional.

He was no longer a gun. He was human.

And sharing this new safehouse with Diana certainly did little to help ease him into this new skin of his. There were so many with her alone. All the times their work has pushed and pulled one to their extreme. Her faking his death through a spur of the moment betrayal. Him fulfilling the contract put on her life when she'd saved Victoria from the ICA's clutches—from a fate akin to his own. Her turning on him once more to get him close to the Constant. They had their own secret language, and none of it was a betrayal in the true sense. They always knew. But it was never any of those moments that stuck with 47; that haunted him. Instead, it was the moment neither had control over. A contract both him and Lucas fulfilled; the hit on her parents. The impromptu construction of a remotely detonated bomb, secured comfortably amidst the vehicle's engine. The combustion alone would have set it off, surely, though it was much simpler—much more fun, according to the older of the duo—to press the button themselves. And so they had. Left her behind in a flaming pile of ashen rubble and broken sobs.

Sunshine settled upon rich, reddened strands as the woman found herself working from the comfort of the couch, laptop secured on the nearby end table as she idly typed away. Shone upon her just as it had through the thickets that hung over the rows of gravestones. It caused the agent's breath to catch in his chest. Created pause as he tried to task himself with his usual routine whilst his handler tasked away at whatever it was she found herself up to. The swift unlocking of the door. Silent footsteps traversing down to the basement. Gloved hands finding themselves cusping his weapon of choice as he'd practiced. He didn't need to practice. He was a master of his craft—had been for a long time. It was simply the only way he knew how to pass the time, and time had passed. One hour, then two, then several. When he'd finally found himself wandering back upstairs, the safehouse was quiet as it was prior.

Diana was still at the couch, though it was clear she had found herself occupied with many things. Her laptop was set aside on the table. The common room smelt of toasted bread and sweet jam. The air was humid as he'd passed by the stove to retrieve a glass from the cupboard, then he saw the kettle set aside with discarded tea packs. As he turned to fill the glass from the sink, he saw the handler flipping through… a book? No, it was too big to be one of her normal reads. Soft brows knitted as he studied the glossed pages as they turned. Slender fingers paused as he'd silently entered her peripheral. Sat his glass upon the coffee table before sitting on the cushions just beside her. The album's cover closed with a soft sound, concealing the well-preserved photographs of a family long lost.

"Everything alright, 47? You seem to be deep in thought." Her voice was steady, though quieter than usual. Softened.

And she was right. He had been deep in thought. He was; no amount of distractions could press down the heavy guilt weighing on his conscience. His lips pressed together in a terse frown, vibrant blue eyes unable to lift themselves from the deep grain flooring.

"… I'm sorry, Diana."

The apology did little to dissuade the bubbling feelings that had begun to rise as she reminisced over the photographs. It had been an impromptu inspection, spurred by a quick glance to her weekly calendar and realizing what the date had been. Days had often found themselves blurring together in this line of work, though this time of year had always lulled to a grinding halt. It had been decades now, but it didn't sting any less. Especially upon learning the truth behind that fateful day. So she simply shook her head, attempting to force down those feelings with a little humor.

"For what, 47? You've nothing to apologize for." A coy smile that didn't quite reach her eyes appeared. "Unless you've gotten up to something without my knowing."

"I… remembered an old job. One before the ICA." Hesitation. An odd thing to see from 47. "… Your parents."

Right. She had assumed that was where this conversation was going, even if she desperately wished it weren't true. A part of her always wondered if he remembered what he'd done. Wondered if he'd felt anything if he had recalled the day. Did he regard it as any other job? A simple mission; nothing more, nothing less? Did he view her differently upon realizing that it was her family? Her hands unconsciously moved, filling the silenced air with the subtle shifting of fabric as they slid the album closer. Her arms compensated for the movement, almost cradling the object as if it were living. To her, in a weird way, it were. The last remnants of a past long lost to her. She sighed.

"47, I don't—I don't blame you for that. You were just… it… that was Providence's work. Their contract. Whatever information they fed you, it surely wasn't enough to make a judgment call—"

Covered arms were careful in the way they moved to close the space between them. A calloused hand rested on the other's arm, giving the opportunity for her to withdraw if she'd wished. Yet she didn't. Instead, a gentle hand came to rest on his, inviting the affections. Coaxing him into a slow, warm hug in which he was briefly hesitant to return. Afraid to, as deep down he wasn't quite so sure he wouldn't hurt her. There was no reason for him to, but considering the things he's remembered… He was afraid it was instinct. His nature. Yet, as she always seemed to be, she was not afraid. She welcomed whatever outcome would come to her. Should he end things once and for all, she would not blame him. Should he choose not to, she would not blame him. Still, though, she couldn't help the waterworks as she'd eased against him. As she leaned into his timid hold and allowed her face to rest against his shoulder as emotions came to overtake her, too.

She couldn't help the breathy laugh that revealed her cracking facade. "Damn it, 47. I had no intentions of crying today, you know."

A small smirk. The upward tilt of his tone. "I know."

The moments that passed felt so minuscule in the grand scheme of things. Yet, to them, they were momentous. A sign of the better future that would come; a closing chapter that neither knew they had still needed to see the end of. 47 had began to rub Diana's back as she cried, slow and rhythmically. Soothing.

'This is your gift. Your gift and your curse: Touching lives, only by ending them.' The echoing voice of the Warden breached 47's thoughts. No. That wasn't true. Not anymore. Not in the way he intended it to be.

"47?"

Curious blues found themselves trained on his handler. He didn't say anything, but she knew he was paying attention as she withdrew from their embrace. Brought her own hand to reach and gently touch at his cheek.

"Thank you. I… I forgive you."

#txt #my fics #hitman #hitman world of assassination #diana burnwood #agent 47 #not ship but idm if you read it that way

10 notes · View notes

lady-hammerlock · 2 months ago

Text

Just As You Are - (Death Stranding - DeadSam)

Written for @promethea-moth-art for the @deathstrandingsecretsanta 2024 exchange.

Summary: Sam discovers something about Deadman that he didn't know before. If only the timing wasn't so inconvenient.

Notes:

This is a little different to what I usually write. I've created and roleplayed trans characters before, partially in exploration of my own gender identity but I haven't posted anything public until now. It's something that I knew I wanted to explore though, and when I saw that it was something promethea-moth was interested in I wanted to give it a go with Deadman. I hope that this is okay and that you enjoy what I've written.

Just a couple of small warnings with this one. Things get a bit awkward, and Sam's initial reaction to discovering that Deadman is trans is... not great. I do think I've actually managed to keep Sam more in character than I sometimes do though, just in terms of him not being the best at socializing. There's a happy ending though and nothing too bad, just an awkward as hell conversation.

And to anyone reading this: Merry Christmas and Keep on Keeping On. <3

JUST AS YOU ARE

Deadman felt like his whole body was on fire. It wasn’t a bad feeling no. On the contrary, it was one of the nicest feelings he had ever felt. His heart was beating more quickly than could possibly be healthy, his hands were trembling, his head was spinning, and yet there wasn’t anywhere else in the world that he would rather be at that moment.

Because right now he was sitting on the bed of one Sam Porter Bridges, and all of Sam’s attention was concentrated one hundred per cent on Deadman. Sam’s hands were roaming all over Deadman’s body, sneaking beneath the fabric of his shirt and gently caressing the skin beneath. Sam’s lips were pressing a soft, slow trail of kisses down his neck.

It was more than Deadman had ever allowed himself to hope for. Even the first few hugs that they had been able to share had each been an unexpected delight, but over the past few months the two of them had only been growing closer, both emotionally and in terms of physical intimacy as well. At first it had just been the hugs, but then Sam had started to initiate other forms of touch as well; a hand lingering on Deadman’s shoulder, or seeking out Deadman’s hand and clasping it softly in his own. Before long Sam started deliberately sitting close enough to Deadman that their sides would press against one another, the warmth and soft pressure of the other man a subtle pleasure that Deadman had not even known he could enjoy until Sam had started to do it.

A couple of weeks ago Sam had very awkwardly and shyly pressed a soft, chaste kiss to Deadman’s cheek.

All of which had been slowly leading towards this; the two of them alone in the shelter Sam was calling home, at least for the time being, sitting on Sam’s bed while the other man’s bare hands explored every inch and every scar of Deadman’s torso.

Sam had even organized for Fragile to look after their little Lou for a while, which meant that they were able to focus their attentions entirely on each other.

Deadman had never thought of himself as being particularly attractive. He was too soft and too scarred for that, at least as far as his own thoughts were concerned, but Sam evidently found something about him to like, if the pleased moans that the other man were letting out were anything to go by.

“Oh Sam,” Deadman gasped as Sam very gently nibbled at the side of his neck. His hands hovered uselessly behind Sam’s back, unsure how much of Deadman’s touch the other man would be comfortable with receiving.

“May I?” Deadman asked, very gently placing one hand on Sam’s shoulder.

Sam didn’t remove himself from where he was still placing kiss upon kiss on Deadman’s neck and collar bone. He simply reached back, grabbing one of Deadman’s hands and immediately and confidently placing it on Sam’s hips, before grabbing Deadman’s other hand and placing it on his back.

It was about as clear a ‘go ahead’ as Sam could have possibly given him, yet Deadman’s gloved hands still shook as he started gently caressing the side of Sam’s body. It was all so lovely and so overwhelming that he barely knew what to do with himself.

Sam pulled back from Deadman’s neck, but he only allowed himself a breather of a few seconds before he pressed his lips to Deadman’s mouth instead, coaxing an enthusiastic moan from Deadman’s throat.

Deadman knew that it had been a long time since Sam had done anything like this, and Deadman had absolutely no experience at all, but luckily it seemed like the two of them were quickly getting the hang of it, or Sam was at any rate.

He hooked one leg over Deadman’s own, before essentially climbing into Deadman’s lap, his mouth staying locked to Deadman’s the whole time. He kept kissing him, again and again, slowly pushing Deadman back down against the bed. Deadman felt like he was drowning in a sea of warm bliss, sinking deeper and deeper with every one of Sam’s kisses and caresses.

Sam’s hands were moving up and over his chest, his explorations having undone half the buttons on Deadman’s shirt. They began to move down again, over his soft, round belly, which he caressed with just as much love as he had any other part of Deadman’s body, before they snuck lower, making quick work of Deadman’s belt and tossing it off the bed.

His hands then snuck beneath the waist band of Deadman’s trousers.

Deadman bit his lip, attempting to stifle the moan that threatened to spill out of his mouth as Sam’s hand dipped lower, sneaking between his legs.

“What the fuck?” Sam said. He pulled away from Deadman as though his hand had been stung, and Deadman felt his heart drop.

Deadman hadn’t even known that this, Sam’s reaction and the awful look on his face, had been something that he had needed to fear. He had thought… Well, he had thought...

“I thought you knew,” Deadman said, feeling like an absolute fool. He should have known that it wouldn’t be this easy; that fate would not allow him to have a happy relationship with someone as incredible as Sam Porter Bridges. Something had to go wrong somewhere. It always did where his personal relationships were concerned.

“What?” Sam asked. “Why would I? You never told me.”

Deadman opened his mouth to argue and then immediately closed it again when his thoughts caught up to him.

Sam could have found a lot about Deadman if he had chosen to search the Bridges archives. Deadman had no doubt that it would have been possible for Sam to have discovered that Deadman was a trans man; assuming that you knew how to effectively search the archives and how to get around the various security protocols that were in place for restricted information. And anything and everything to do with Deadman’s creation was almost definitely restricted information. Assuming of course that Sam had cared enough to research Deadman in the first place.

It occurred to Deadman in that moment that perhaps he had been assuming too much, at least where Sam’s research capabilities and his interest in Deadman himself were concerned.

Deadman on the other hand had, of course, set about gathering as much information on Sam as he possibly could, especially when the growing affection and attraction that had been building up between them had become apparent. But that had been him.

Perhaps he should not have been surprised that Sam’s interest in him had proven to be not quite as… well… thorough or obsessive as Deadman’s interest in Sam had been.

“The shower!” Deadman said, jumping up from the bed as he remembered that there had most definitely been another moment during which Sam should have, perhaps, realized the truth. “We were pressed up very close against one another in there. Surely you noticed that a certain part of my anatomy was not… um…”

He couldn’t bring himself to actually say the words. Not when Sam was already looking at him like he’d gone completely insane.

“The shower?” Sam repeated, still looking at Deadman as though he thought the other man had completely lost it.

“Yes, when I had you pushed up against the… um… maybe don’t worry about that.”

“No, I remember that pretty fucking clearly,” Sam said. “Remember having a lot more to worry about than whether or not I could feel your erection pressing up against me.”

Deadman immediately found himself blushing. He brought a hand up to his face and looked away from Sam. How the hell could he just come out and say things like that? There was a brashness and straightforwardness to Sam that Deadman both admired and wished he could summon as easily as Sam managed to.

“Look, whatever is going on with you, why don’t you just tell me?” Sam said.

“Whatever is going on with me?” Deadman echoed.

“Yeah,” Sam said. “Like why you don’t have a dick.”

Okay, so maybe there was such a thing as being too brash and straightforward.

Deadman wasn’t the sort of person to curse in frustration, but in that moment he almost wished that he was. Instead he just let out a sigh as he tried to think through what he was going to say. Clearly Sam understood even less than Deadman had realized.

“Okay,” he said, taking a seat on the side of the bed once more. “How do I explain this?”

He had no way of knowing whether this was something Sam had come across before. His life had been so isolated, and with him being exposed to timefall as much as he had, it was possible this was something Sam had known about at some point in the past but had since forgotten.

“When the scientists created me they thought that they were making a woman, and gave me certain body parts accordingly,” Deadman said. “As it turns out they were wrong. When I was able to leave the laboratory and make my own decisions, I realized that I was a man and that I wanted to live as one. With the advancements that have been made in artificial hormone creation over the past few years, Bridges was able to make sure that I received the necessary medications.”

It had been a long time since he had talked about this with anyone, but the words came easier than he thought they would have. Maybe because he found it so easy to trust Sam. He had from the very first moment that the two of them had met, for reasons that were still slightly beyond his understanding.

He stood there, waiting for Sam to say something, hoping as he did that his trust in the other man hadn’t been misplaced.

Sam looked thoughtful for a moment.

“Huh,” he eventually said, with a shrug, and that was it.

“You probably have some questions?” Deadman prompted, readying himself for them. Surely they were inevitable.

“I might eventually,” Sam said. “Can’t think of any right now though. So… you’re trans.”

Well, Sam was aware of transness as a concept at the very least. That was a start, a good start, and Deadman found himself letting out a sigh of relief that was probably far too obvious.

“Yes, yes I am.”

Sam took a seat on the bed beside Deadman once more, and shrugged again. “I hope this isn’t going to be a problem,” Deadman said. He really had become very attached to Sam. It would break his heart if anything were to come between them now.

“Why would it be a problem?” Sam said. “Honestly, I was waiting for it to be something way weirder. Some sort of weird DOOMS shit or something. This is whatever.”

He shrugged again, his words and his actions both so open and honest and casual that Deadman had no choice but to believe that Sam really, truly wasn’t all that bothered.

“Oh,” Deadman said.

A frown was starting to appear on Sam’s face though; one that Deadman was reasonably sure meant the other man was thinking very hard about something.

“Are you absolutely sure you’re fine with this Sam?” Deadman asked.

“Huh? Yeah. Of course. You already know that I like both men and women. Why would I have a problem with this?”

“Then what is this?” Deadman asked, reaching out and poking Sam between the eyebrows, where their furrowing was the most obvious.

Sam’s frown just deepened, and he let out one of the small grunts that Deadman knew he sometimes let out when he was upset or annoyed.

“Just pissed off at myself,” Sam said. “We had something really nice going on and then I had to go and ruin it by being an asshole.”

Deadman couldn’t help but let out a chuckle in response to that. Sam’s answer was just so unexpected and so very much like Sam that between that and the sudden relief he was feeling, he just couldn’t help it.

“Well you know, Sam,” Deadman said, grabbing one of Sam’s hands and delicately moving it so that it sat on Deadman’s thigh once more. “I’m sure that we could get back there very quickly if we both made an effort.”

Sam’s eyes met Deadman’s own. Deadman gave him an encouraging smile which Sam was quick to return.

Sam gave Deadman’s thigh a gentle squeeze, and that was all the warning that Deadman got before Sam was climbing into Deadman’s lap again, his lips quickly finding Deadman’s own and resuming the eager, passionate kisses that they had been trading a few minutes earlier.

His hands snuck beneath Deadman’s clothes once more, lovingly running over the skin of his belly and chest, while all the while his mouth plundered Deadman’s own. It wasn’t long at all before Deadman’s heart was pounding again, in the good, blissful way that this much of Sam’s attention could do, and not because of the brief bout of anxiety that he had experienced earlier.

One of Sam’s hands snuck down beneath Deadman’s pants again, and he pulled back from the kiss, just far enough that Deadman could still feel the warmth of Sam’s breath against his lips. When he opened his eyes again he found Sam’s face only a few inches away from his own, watching Deadman very closely as Sam’s hand moved further down within Deadman’s pants, and started caressing this time instead of retreating.

Deadman’s eyes quickly closed again as the pleasure quickly began to build.

“Oh Sam,” he murmured.

“I love you,” Sam whispered, his breath uneven, as one of his hands gently caressed Deadman’s side. “You know that, right? You. Just as you are.”

And with everything that passed between the two of them over the next couple of hours, the way that Sam touched Deadman’s body and all of the things, both filthy and sweet, that he whispered in Deadman’s ear or groaned while in the throes of passion, it was impossible not to believe him.

#death stranding #sam porter bridges #deadman #deadsam #death stranding secret santa 2024 #my fic

5 notes · View notes

ariellewm · 2 years ago

Text

WIP Fantasy Novel - Character Profile: Czar Agskaga

!! Note: Please do not use my character or the art of the character for roleplaying (with the exception for Ycey Narrates) or fanfiction. This OC is very precious to me and only will allow others I know close to either roleplay, write, or draw him. !!

"If you find trouble sssleeping, you know where to find me." - Czar Agskaga from "Coils of the Naga" Part 1

Full Name: Prince Czar Agskaga

Aliases/Other Titles: His Illustrious Eminence, Master Maji of Fire, Keeper of the Sacred Amber Lilies, Prince of Rubies

Gender: Male

Race: Naga

Age: 41 (26 in sapien years appearance (human))

Height: 6’2 (187cm) Stranding / 22’ (670cm) Long

Eye Color: Crimson Red

Hair Color: Onyx, long length

Skin: Tanned with dark red/black/gold scales under eyes, upper neck/shoulder area. Arms fade into black

Tail: Black with golden and red "saddle" patterns that fades ruby red on the belly

About/Backstory

Czar is the first-born child of King Voskai and Queen Kaatrisa Agskaga. He was named after a powerful dragon, Szarrak, that lived alongside the Agskaga’s many centuries ago. His nesti (family) are a highly respected royal line of Naga’s/Nagi’s that dates to Draca Isla Pyramis, an ancient place where they and Dragon’s thrived before its doom. They are known for their amber lilies, a precious flower that holds healing properties and other usages.

The young prince usually finds himself relaxing among the trees (what little was on the isle he calls home), hidden away with a book in hand. When not reading or learning about legends and histories of old, he likes being at gatherings in the company of others (especially with the sapien women). He delights in showcasing his fire majic (magic) abilites as well as helping those stressed or lacking sleep through his hypnosis abilites.

With the unfortunate death of both parent’s during his teen years, he is the last of his reign to bare his father’s name and to the throne. In the meantime his uncle on his father's side has taken over responsibilities until his nephew is ready (which he isn't quite ready to take over the throne just yet).

Personality

Many have mistaken his kind as evilly sadistic. Not all are that way…at least from Czar’s point of view. Czar can be seen as an intimidating, mysterious royal at first glance. He shows his true self in his knowledge and interest about the world. Czar enjoys discussing legends of old and Zarth’s history with company.

The royal can be quite talkative at gala’s and other large speical occasions. There are times, however, he’d rather be alone in his study. Raised with good manners and always seems to be well-adjusted for a Naga, he still dabbles in his mischievous teasing ways.

Of all the Naga’s/Nagi’s that possess the ability of hypnosis, Szar despises those that use it for merciless, heartless purposes. He would rather use his ability to help those in need. Czar asks for consent for this reason, to make sure they feel safe with the charming prince that he is. Sometimes through his flirtation and teasing ways, it had always worked on the ladies he fancies…at times.

Abilities/Majic Status

Hypnosis – A unique ability that causes those to be in a state of consciousness and have them voluntarily lose action. Not many have this ability. Czar is the first in many centuries of his nesti to possess such ability, though he rarely ever uses it. (His eyes glow, like looking into a roaring fire).

Fire Maji – He can conjure, manipulate, and inflict damage through the element of fire and heat. Czar’s favorite ability is breathing out fire like those of dragons and conjuring a fire like whip. The crystal embedded within his left palm is oval red. *More information TBA*

Constriction – Like those of serpents large and small, his long body can wrap around enemies and tightly squeeze the life out of them. He also can climb up trees or buildings if nessesary.

Heightened Senses – As a Naga he has an excellent scent and eyesight compared to other races of Zarth.

Wardrobe Appearance

The Naga likes to show off his prized gold and rubies he has collected over the years. At times he wears his medium golden collar with rubies mixed with teal crystals. Along his arms he wears golden arm and wrist bands. He tends to wear two rings, both of which belonged to his parents. One is crimson red with gold and the other is teal with gold. He wears them on his right hand: one on his index and the other on his ring finger. On the other hand, he wears a golden serpent ring on his ring finger.

Upon his head he is sometimes seen wearing a gold circlet crown the small design of Agskaga’s amber lily symbol at the center.

He likes his selection of clothing soft and light. A lot of his fabrics are made of the finest silk and cotton on Zarth. Czar prefers to wear reds, blacks, yellows, oranges, whites and even just a little hint of teal in his fabrics. The prince often wears open shirts, long sleeve or short, attached with silky long or medium length drapes behind the back or to the side with beautiful intricate patterns (mostly floral, serpent, etc.). Along his hips he tends to wear a golden belt (large enough to cover his lower region) with chains and jewels.

When not seen around the public or with other nobility, Czar likes to be shirtless. Czar still wears his usual jewelry such as his arms bands, rings and the belt.

His long onyx hair is sometimes tied up as a loose ponytail with the front tied in a topknot. Some strains of his long hair still show on the side of his face when tied up. A lot of the times, however, his hair is usually down. Sometimes he will allow females (those that he fancies) to braid one strain of his hair. Many have complimented on how silky his hair is, given that he uses the best shampoos. Many ladies have described the smell of rose and lavender.

Weapons

The Naga often not carries weaponry around with him. Since he is a Fire Maji and uses majic, he doesn’t necessarily have any use for actual weapons. He has been trained though with using whips, swords, and daggers at his nesti’s palace. So if need be, he can easily pick up a sword while still performing fire majic on his enemies to protect the people he cares about.

Audio Roleplay/Stories

"Coils Of The Naga" Produced and Voiced by Ycey Narrates

"Coils of the Naga Part 2" Produced and Voiced by Ycey Narrates

"Coiled By The Naga" Produced and Voiced by Ycey Narrates (Bonus Audio through Patreon)

Modern Headcanon: Mr. Czar Agskaga

SFW Naga Hypnosis Headcanon

Czar's Holiday Story

SFW OC's Valentine's Day Headcanons Special

Summertime with the OC's

Coils of the Naga Part 2: Palace Courtyard Scene

Before Part 3 of "Coils of the Naga" Story

Physical Appearance Concept Art/Gallery

Credit art goes to @wyyvernn

More artwork of Czar HERE!

Inspired Spotify Playlist: Czar Agskaga Playlist

Inspired YouTube Playlist: Prince Czar Agskaga's Playlist

#naga #naga oc #prince oc #original character

69 notes · View notes

fluffypotatey · 1 year ago

Note

OK SO. the animations family.

first off i have to explain the QSMP a bit. the QSMP (nobody's really sure what the q stands for afaik) is a multilingual minecraft smp that first started in march 2023. the original server roster was 16 players, half of whom were hispanic and half who were english speakers. (this was bc quackity, the guy who came up with the server and did all the planning and stuff, is bilingual and wanted to unite his two communities). one of these original 16 was jaiden animations (this is important). on the first day of the server, these 16 members were stranded in a place called Quesadilla Island, which is controlled by a mysterious and sinister Federation (run by a weird little guy named Cucurucho)

okay, you know the trope of science projects where you get split up into pairs and have to take care of an egg together? they literally did that. All of the players were split into pairs of one spanish-speaker and one english-speaker, and tasked with taking care of an egg (actually a special NPC played by a server admin). the eggs started out with two lives each, and once those lives were out, the egg's gone for good, and your in-game child is dead. (this is a secret surprise tool that will help us later!)

one of these parenting pairs was jaiden animations and roier, and their egg's name was bobby. bobby was a rambunctious little fella- artistic, brave, very aggressive- and an absolute mama's boy. jaiden, roier, and bobby (aka the animations family) all got along very well, and tbh i need to go rewatch jaiden's vods of them bc they were so sweet together. jaiden changed her minecraft skin to match bobby's so they were both wearing overalls together.

(^ mentally i am here)

jaiden's character (or cubito, a word from the spanish speaking community that essentially means "minecraft roleplay character" that p much the whole community uses now bc its so damn cute) was aroace (just like jaiden in real life!), so she and q!roier were in a qpr co-parenting situation. and it was really sweet and i miss them. can you tell i miss them.

(drawing done by jaiden of roier, bobby, and herself) (the qsmp has an art mod btw)

now, astute readers may have noticed that i use "was" for both jaiden and bobby. on may 17th, 2023, bobby lost his second life to a vindicator and was ruled permanently dead. roier was there at the time, I believe, but was unable to save bobby in time. when jaiden found out, she SCREAMED and it was like. you know in hamilton how when phillip dies eliza screams? it sounded like that. (she also chased after the sunset while saying "wait for me" over and over again, it was really heartbreaking and im still a little bit insane about this).

the next day, the whole server went on a journey to the dungeon bobby died in, to plead with cucurucho for his revival. cucurucho refused to bring bobby back permanently, but allowed jaiden and roier ten minutes to talk with him and say their goodbyes. bobby asked them to remember him every time they saw a sunset.

(^ the last time the whole animations family was together. this was 9.5 months ago).

neither q!jaiden nor q!roier ever really fully recovered from bobby's death (although id say jaiden was hit way harder due to not having a support system outside of roier and cucurucho, who took advantage of her grief to manipulate her). there are some other things that happened here, such as q!roier getting married to a cellbit, a brazilian player working as a double agent of sorts within the federation, and purgatory (all the players were teleported to an island, separated into three groups, and forced to fight one another. in the end the island got blown up by a nuke).

on sunday, cc!jaiden talked about her qsmp character, ultimately stating that she was taking a long break from the server, that she had given the admins permission to do whatever they want with her character's absence, and essentially announced that unless the admins stated otherwise, q!jaiden had died in the nuke explosion in purgatory, firmly destroying the animations family.

(to me, the saddest part is that, recently, new eggs were assigned to groups of childless players, and both jaiden and roier got the chance to raise new eggs, with jaiden being assigned to empanada and roier currently being pepito's sole active parent. and all q!jaiden wanted was to be a mom. she died never knowing she had a second chance to rebuild her family. i am no okay.)

in conclusion:

THE LOVE WAS THERE AND THERE WAS NOTHING THEY CAN DO. I AM CRYING IN REAL LIFE I MISS HER SO BAD. SHE'S WITH BOBBY NOW.

#they were a happy family :’(#funny side note i did mimic the Leo pointing meme when you said Jaiden Animations bc i def know about her #the yt animated community was my life in middle school and high school lmao #ironically i didn’t actually watch a lot of jaiden’s stuff but she was like THE animation queen and everyone knew her #tbh i dont remember who was my first #the youtuber who introduced me to that side #i know it’s NOT 0ddonesout even tho i watched a lot of his stories #i guess we’ll never know #smp 101 with gumy #asks

7 notes · View notes

caracarnn · 1 year ago

Text

ROLEPLAY HISTORY!

The rules are simple! Post characters you’d like to roleplay as, have roleplayed as, and might bring back. Then tag ten people to do the same (if you can’t think of ten, just write down however many you can and tag that number of people). Please repost, don’t reblog!

CURRENT MUSE(S): (canon muses)

Rand al'Thor (the wheel of time)

Elayne Trakand (the wheel of time)

Andraste (dragon age)

Asmodean (the wheel of time)

Ciri (the witcher)

Daenerys Targaryen (asoiaf)

Dalinar Kholin (the stormlight archive)

Deirdre Mayfair (anne rice)

Elend Venture (mistborn)

Galad Damodred (the wheel of time)

George Villiers (mary & george)

Geralt of Rivia (the witcher)

Jon Snow (asoiaf)

Julien Mayfair (anne rice)

Kaladin Stormblessed (the stormlight archive)

Kelsier (mistborn)

Mona Mayfair (anne rice)

Padme Amidala (star wars)

Perrin Aybara (the wheel of time) Renarin Kholin (the stormlight archive)

Robb Stark (asoiaf)

Rowan Mayfair (anne rice)

Shallan Davar (the stormlight archive)

Spook (mistborn)

Stella Mayfair (anne rice)

Tyrion Lannister (asoiaf)

Empress Tuon (the wheel of time)

Yennefer of Vengerberg (the witcher)

Anne of Austria (the musketeers)

Arno Dorian (assassin's creed)

Cesare Borgia (the borgias)

Daryl Dixon (the walking dead)

David 8 (alien)

Eleanor Guthrie (black sails)

Ellie (the last of us game)

Sir Gawain (the green knight)

Hannibal Lecter (hannibal)

James Flint (black sails)

Jamie Fraser (outlander)

Jesper Fahey (six of crows)

Katrina van Tassel (sleepy hollow)

Klaus Mikaelson (tvd)

Louis Pointe du Lac (anne rice)

Lucien Grimaud (the musketeers)

Magneto (xmen)

Obi Wan Kenobi (star wars)

Philippe d'Orleans (versailles)

Ragnar Lothbrok (vikings)

Rebekah Mikaelson (tvd)

Richie Gecko (from dusk till dawn)

Rick Grimes (the walking dead)

Sam Bridges (death stranding)

Ubbe Ragnarsson (vikings)

Victor Frankenstein (penny dreadful/novel)

WANT TO WRITE:

idk? lol I mean I always happen on someone new everyday so --- there are tons. I was looking for someone from the Dune novels but idk. Lestat? DONT KNOW

HAVE WRITTEN: (these I only write for strict people still but usually nope)

Steve Rogers (mcu)

Athos (the musketeers)

Porthos (the musketeers)

Loki (mcu)

Natasha Romanoff (mcu)

Doctor Strange (mcu)

Lanfear (the wheel of time)

Dr. Thresden (ahs)

every sarah paulson ahs character ever lol

mark (orphan black)

John Constantine (dc)

Oliver Queen (arrow)

Sylar (heroes)

Claire Bennett (heroes)

Sara Howard (the alienist)

Lucius Isaacson (the alienist)

Freydis (vikings)

Katia (vikings)

Aslaug (vikings)

Thor (mcu)

Edward Kenway (assassin's creed)

a bunch of other assassin's creed characters lol

Alina Starkov (shadow and bone)

Genya Safin (shadow and bone)

Luke Crain (Haunting of Hill House)

Eva Villanueva (high seas)

Lola ( reign)

Bash (reign)

Henry & Catherine (reign)

Michael Curry (anne rice)

Every Mayfair character ever lol (anne rice)

Santanico (from dusk till dawn)

Clarke Griffin (the 100)

Quicksilver (mcu)

Jensen (the losers)

Aragorn (lotr)

tagged by: @luckhissoul & @stcrforged tagging: @ofprevioustimes @adversitybloomed @malumxsubest @uncxntrxllable @forwardlion @depictedblue @qanedanegros @theasteria @revelour

#.ooc #long post for ts #help i dk when to stop #there's more too that I can't remember

6 notes · View notes

themountainscall · 1 year ago

Text

There you lay, pelted by hundreds of rain droplets as you weakly try to compose yourself. Everything seemed to go numb. The only thing you felt was nature’s brutality striking your pelt relentlessly as you lay helpless.

The forest was so close, yet so far. You didn’t know if you’d ever make it there. The salvation you’d heard of… the stories detailing the barbarian felines who ruled the woodlands… it would only be seen in your dreams.

You shut your eyes, the roaring of thunder overhead causing you to flinch into the soaked earth.

You had lost all hope.

You were stranded.

. . .

You felt a presence.

Your eyes weakly opened, and you were shocked to see… a group of cats. Massive, scarred, terrifyingly tall… They watched you like a piece of prey. You could only pray that they’d make your death swift.

Until, the one with the purple stare spoke up.

“Join us.”

🌙

Welcome to The Mountain’s Call!

We are a literate, 15+ roleplay group over on discord looking for more people to join us!

In a prehistoric world where humans cease to exist yet, a group of savage felines roam the Swiss Alps, fending off their home from unrestrained predators we now know as extinct.

Deep in the dense woodlands resides a legion of cats known as Alpine Clan. However, these aren’t your normal forest cats. With augmented senses, larger bodies, sharper claws, keener vision, and overall stronger physiques, these animals are on par with their feline brethren, such as cougars and lynxes.

We offer many things in our server, such as:

Totally new and reworked ranks, including 2 new (Sage, Berserker) ones that are crucial to the lore of the roleplay.

Original and unique traditions to make the roleplay more well-rounded.

Constant opportunities to have your character be more involved in the lore.

OOC channels to share your artwork, create and search for character relationships, and give suggestions for upcoming lore.

And so much more!

We are currently on CHAPTER 2: INFESTATION PART I, and will be moving into Part 2 soon.

🌑

So you’re all caught up, here’s a run-down of the Chapter 1 lore:

CHAPTER 1:

The moon will overtake the sky, leaving the forest to awake the shunned, red-eyed giant.

The clan’s czar, Wind Star, is awoken by his sage, Crimson Peak, frantically running into camp and begging to speak with him. After visiting the caves to speak with the ancestors, Crimson claims he could not speak with the stars, but was rather face to face with a great horned beast with giant red eyes and blood stained across its brown pelt.

Wind Star does not know what to make of this, so he tries to soothe the manic tomcat before telling him to keep this a secret between the two of them, and to not even tell Crimson’s acolyte, Moonlit Paw. Who also happened to be Wind Star’s daughter from his late mate. Crimson reluctantly agrees, and they both keep this disturbing prophecy to themselves.

🌒

A moon later, Wind Star and his new mate, Snow Step, have a litter of three kittens. Crow Kit, Polar Kit, and Smoke Kit. However, tensions are still high within the high ranks of Alpine Clan. No one is able to contact the ancestors. No one has been visited, no one, not even the sages, are able to see or speak to them. They grow worried, but Wind Star is still reluctant to tell the clan. He persuades his subordinates to keep it to themselves just for a little while longer, and they hesitantly agree. However, a few days later… something terrible would happen to the clan. Something that many cats interpreted as a signal that the stars were angry.

🌓

A flock of Sun Wings (giant condors) flew over the camp and attacked the clan. Three cats died, many were injured, and everyone was confused. Crimson Peak begged to let the clan know, but Wind Star had begun to… act different. He began to lose it, claiming that all the bad happening to the clan was from the direct influence of Crimson Peak. The sage himself bore the only red eyes in the entire clan, Wind Star was certain that what Crimson Peak saw was an alternate version of himself. The tom’s grew distant with one another, both wanting to help their clan, however… both having different ways of wanting to do so.

🌔

Three cats, War Cry, Bee Paw, and Mountain Caller all had their sleep disturbed with a nightmare. However, it seemed… all too real to be any type of dream. War Cry’s dream consisted of a giant beast with reddened eyes destroying their camp while she was cemented to the earth, unable to move. Bee Paw’s had him morph into the disgusting creature, soon being attacked and killed by everyone he loved. Mountain Caller’s dream had him faced with his brother as a kit, being forced to kill him. He refuses, however as he blinks away his tears, the kit transforms into the czar he knew, and kills him.

🌕

It all came to a climax when Crimson Peak stood at his altar inside of the sages den. He sobbed, begging for the stars to speak to him, give him a sign, do anything to let him know that he wasn’t alone. His wallowing was interrupted by Wind Star. The tom entered the den and began insulting Crimson, claiming it was his fault that the stars had gone silent. However, when Crimson turned around to defend himself, he was met with… purple eyes rather than the familiar fiery ones he was used to. Wind Star attacks Crimson Peak, pushing him into the old wooden altar, shattering it. Inside of the czar’s head, Wind Star’s consciousness fights brutally against the plague that had infected him. However, it was futile. The czar was killed, banished to the dark forest, and his body had been transformed into nothing but a hollow vessel that this imposter had full control of.

The czar rushed to call a clan meeting, his mania prominent as he demoted Crimson Peak and his own daughter to prisoners. Alpine Clan could only watch in horror as the czar they once respected had seemingly fallen off the deep end. Cats rushed to defend their sages, angering the imposter. Wind Star’s mate had tried to soothe the angered crowd, begging Wind to stop the meeting before he did anything else he regretted. Crimson Peak suddenly called the imposter out on not being their true czar, glaring up at him with no intent of becoming scum in the prisoners den.

The fake czar looked around, and upon realizing no one would be on his side, decided his fate then and there. Purple eyes gazed upon the throng once more before they launched down upon the sage, swiftly snapping his neck with one bite. The crowd erupted in shock, however before the imposter could do any more harm, he was killed by his luminary, Mountain Caller, Wind Star’s little brother.

The clan had no time to process what had just happened. As the prophecy that Crimson had tried to warm everyone about had just come storming into camp. A gargantuan beast the side as the trees raged into camp, blood on its tusks as it rampaged through the clearing. Mountain Caller, now Star, called for his clan to evacuate towards the river. There was no way they could fight against it. The camp was demolished via the beast's dirtied hooves, with countless cats being crushed, injured, and killed. Its eyes glowed an angry red. It seemed the beast only had intentions to kill.

After what felt like moons, the great tusked mammoth grew tired, and its eyes faded back to their more gentle brown. The creature seemed… confused. It didn’t seem to know how it ended up in the camp. It roared before stomping off, leaving a trail of purple flowers in its wake.

Many cats were killed. Many cats were lost in the chaos. Moonlit Paw, and Crow Kit, Wind Star’s two daughters fled to the moors in a desperate attempt to survive the attacks. No one knows where they went, or if they are even alive.

🌑

Chapter 2: Infestation, will be split into four parts —

Infestation I:

Beads of purple begin to decorate the territory as the drift fades into its colder months. Star Clan is completely silent. No one can speak to the stars. Cats are acting worried, but normal.

Infestation II:

Stalks of purple flowers bloom in camp, the sawbones begin to examine them, testing and tasting to see if they could be used for any medicinal properties. They find out that the flowers are poisonous & being in the vicinity of them can cause aggression, confusion, and volatility. Alpine Clan tries to remove them, but it seems they just grow back faster. Cats have begun to hallucinate, claiming they can speak to the “stars”.

Infestation III:

The clan has descended into shambles. The flowers continue to bloom, infesting the trees and thistles around the camp as well. Birds have begun to die from them, and it seems not even the snow can eliminate them. Cats claim they are closer to the stars than ever. They have begun worshiping a cat called ████, and have begun to shun all non-believers. Non-believers seem to be completely healthy, even when surrounded by the plants. Alpine Clan is at an all time low.

Infestation IV:

Alpine Clan is introduced to their salvation.

—

If you’re interested in applying, feel free to DM this account and I’ll send you a form!

🪻

9 notes · View notes

honkabonka · 8 months ago

Text

Huzzah new pinned

Howdy my name is Milk! I'm autistic and my art process is basically drawing my favorite characters from my million different hyperfixations and special interests

I'm also the host of an osdd system so if I'm ever late to responding to something pls forgive me 🙏

I love gaming and roleplaying and I'm always looking for moots and new pals [I am the most active on discord so you can always reach me there if you prefer]

I do have a twitter (same handle) where I post n/s/f/w stuff if you want to check that out (pls do be 18 +)

Exclaimer: I do post horror and gore art so if you dislike that I'd advise not interacting with my page

Linked in my bio is my carrd of my commission info if you happen to be interested in commissioning me! (But I'll also slap it here)

https://honkabonka.carrd.co/

Here is a large list of many things I'm into, and that I'll likely draw art of (and if you wish to ask me to sketch/draw something from it, it's very likely that I will! :D)

A bunch of anime and manga ATLA Borderlands Bugsnax Carrion COD Franchise Darkwood DC Comics Dead by Daylight Death Stranding Detroit Become Human Elf Quest Evil Dead Fran Bow Friday The 13th Grounded Half-Life Hellboy Invader Zim Kirby L4d2 Little Nightmares Malignant Marvel Mortal Kombat Nekra Psaria (S/O if you know that game) Outlast Franchise RDR2 Sandman Sherlock Holmes (Frogware and Ritchieverse) Silent Hill Steamworld Dig Texas Chainsaw Massacre The Boy The Last of Us The Mortuary Assistant The Witcher Undertale Vampyr A whole bunch of Big Fish games no one knows And lots of others I can't think of right now lMao

3 notes · View notes

pendingfeels · 1 year ago

Text

DEATH STRANDING / ROLEPLAY INSPIRED EDITS PT. 2

#jgl #norman reedus #joseph gordon levitt #edits #edit #roleplay #rp inspired #death stranding #roleplay insp #story inspiration

0 notes

arkhamofknight · 2 years ago

Text

The Arkham Knight : The Beginning

A fanfic rp story

Blurb: Harley Quinn couldn't believe her eyes when she saw the battered Robin sitting in the middle of the room, tied to a chair with barbed wire. As she approached him, she noticed the scars on his face and realized who he was - Jason Todd, the second Robin. She reveled in the fact that her beloved Joker had managed to capture the bird.

As she began to speak to him, attempting to torture his mind further, she was surprised to learn how much he hated Batman and wanted to kill him. She listened intently as he told her about his plan to take down the Dark Knight and avenge his own death. She could see the determination in his eyes, and she knew that he was serious.

Harley saw an opportunity in Jason's hatred for Batman. She told him that he could be her knight in shining armor if he managed to kill the Caped Crusader. She promised him that if he succeeded, she would have the Joker all to herself.

As she untied him, she gave him the weapons he needed and sent him on his way, knowing that he would stop at nothing to get his revenge. But as she watched him go, she couldn't help but wonder if she had made a mistake. Would Jason succeed in killing Batman? And if he did, what would become of Harley and the Joker?

Only time would tell, but one thing was certain: Harley had just set in motion a chain of events that would change the course of Gotham City's history forever.

Read the full story below: the story is in the form a roleplay that can be found on Twitter here

Harley was takin' a leisurely stroll down the halls of Arkham Asylum, hummin' a little tune to herself, when she did a double-take. Pig tails bouncing, an eerie grin on 'er face.

the sounds of lousy 'ol men moanin' an' groanin' about how they wanna get outta tha damn place. "Can't ya jsut SHUT UP?" Harley randomly yelled. "you're ruinin' ma song!"

she noticed a door that was usually wide open was then closed. "hm, do we have a newcomer?" tha harlequin ask herself.

Right smack dab in tha middle of tha room was none other than tha battered Robin, tied up in barbed wire. "hello little guy!" eyes gleamin' at the new toy to play with.

the boy, sat on a chair in tha middle of tha room lookin all comfy! approachin' him she took him his uniform and squealed.

"well, well, well," she purred, a sly grin spreadin' across her lips. "Looks like Puddin' caught himself a birdie!" she let out a little giggle, twirlin' a strand of her hair around her finger. "you're a long way from the nest, ain't ya?!"

a weary sigh escaped jason's lips, bouncing off the frigid walls of the cell. his head hung low, barely able to lift it in the dank, dimly lit chamber. he knew all too well where he was: the infamous arkham asylum.

muted cries of desperation from fellow inmates could be heard faintly in the distance. the man's mouth was parched, his left eye swollen and his vision blurred. suddenly, the unmistakable voice of harley quinn echoed down the corridor, sending a shiver down his spine.

the mere sound of her voice turned his stomach. if he wasn't going to be tormented by the clown prince of crime, he'd have to endure the cruel taunts of his harlequin. the barbed wire wrapped around his body and limbs had become a cruel extension of his body, the sharp points digging into his flesh with each movement.

as the door to his cell creaked open, he slowly turned his head to the side, his gaze still downcast. he remained silent, refusing to give her the satisfaction of a response. with a twisted smirk, harley called him her "little birdie," causing him to clench his teeth and whisper through gritted teeth, "don't call me that."

Harley's noggin went from side to side as she circled ta beat up boy, takin' in his uniform, cuts, and bruises. She poked his chest where his 'R' was, wearin' a wicked grin on her kisser as she spoke.

"aawwh, come on birdie," she taunted. "you're no fun if ya don't play with me." But the kid refused to reply, his peepers burnin' with hate for her.

Harley's grin turned into a scowl as she threatened him. "If you're not gonna play with me, I'll have to bring out my mallet an' teach ya a lesson, bird brain!" she said, her voice low and dangerous.

She then caressed his face, lookin' at him with a mix of both delight an' menace as she whispered in a sing song tune, "How could eva' the big 'ol bat leave one o' his birdies along like that?"

Runnin' her thumb across tha fresh 'J' on his face, she couldn't help but chuckle to herself. But then, unexpectedly, ta kid just spoke. Harley jumped back, surprised by tha sudden outburst.

"Why ain't ya a birdie no more?" she asked, her voice in a surprised tone.

Jason couldn't even bring himself to meet her gaze as she mocked him for being no fun to play with. There was a time in his past when he was young and fearless, charging into battle without a second thought. But times had changed, and now he felt broken. He knew that this wasn't the end, though. Joker hadn't killed him yet, no matter how much he begged for release from this hell.

As she threatened him, he slumped back and looked at her through heavy-lidded eyes. He was ready to take whatever beating she had in store for him. "I'm used to it," he muttered, his voice barely audible. He wasn't even sure if she heard him, his body failing to keep up with his act.

When she touched his face, he knew she was only taunting him further. But for a few moments, he closed his eyes and let himself drift off to sleep. Her hands were warm against his skin, possibly the first point of contact that didn't bruise or cut him. As she spoke, his heart felt like it was being wrung out like a washcloth. She reminded him of how he ended up in this situation.

When Harley pressed her finger against his fresh scar, pain shot through his body. He winced, but only briefly. He was getting used to the pain, learning how to lose himself in it. There was no shortcut, no way out.

After he told her he was no longer Robin, he watched her closely, waiting for her reaction. Part of him wondered if she knew about Joker's plan to capture him. "Why do you think?" he asked, a bold move for him. Maybe his spirit wasn't as broken as his body after all.

Th' jester was chillin', her hands restin' on her knees while she locked eyes with th' bird boy. He had tha nerve ta spit some words back at her - did he really think he could question THE Harley Quinn? Who was runnin' this show? Her eyes widened, both impressed by his boldness and angry at his words.

"Hey! I'm the one askin' the questions 'round here!" she barked, her high-pitched voice ringin' through the room. She started circlin' him again, thinkin' that if he still had tha nerve ta talk back, he wasn't scared enough of her. And that needed ta change.

"Let me get this straight - you're callin' yourself not Robin anymore, but you're still wearin' that damn uniform... you see how that don't make sense, right?!" she continued. As she circled him, she noticed how tha barbed wire was diggin' into his skin, leaving old drops of blood smeared onto his crimson uniform. Was she feelin' sorry for this kid? Nahh.

In a sudden move, Harley grabbed the back of his chair an' leaned in close to his ear, whisperin', "Was that you cryin' last night? Callin' for Batsy ta come save ya?" She taunted him. "Guess what, birdy - he ain't comin'. He forgot about ya. He don't want ya back. He's got a new birdie now... wanna see?" She kissed his cheek, leavin' a lipstick mark, then straightened up an' hopped onto tha boy's lap, pullin' out a picture from her clothes.

She showed it ta him - a picture of tha B man and some new kid, wearin' a very similar uniform. "Looks like you were right, kid. You ain't Robin no more, 'cause he's got someone else!" She cackled, her eerie high-pitched laugh ringin' around them once again.

As he took a deep breath, the pain shot through his chest like a bullet. He tried to ignore the psycho chick's taunts, but it was like white noise at this point. He knew she was just doing her job for her crazy lover, the clown. And here he was, alone with the demons in his head.

What was her deal? Was she just being stupid or did she have nothing left to say? Of course he was wearing his uniform, did she not know the story? The one where her beloved Joker dragged him and hung him up like a lamb for slaughter? Maybe she missed that part.

Normally, he'd try to talk his way out of this or use his field training to escape. But would it even work this time? Their words were getting to him, and Batman wasn't coming to save him. Did he even still care?

He fought hard not to let their words change his perception of his father, but it was getting harder every time he spoke up for Batman. Defending his mentor and pleading for his help only led to beatings and bloodshed.

As she grabbed the back of his chair, he took a sharp breath, knowing what was coming. Another beating. He could hardly remember what happened last night; his brain tried to erase any trauma associated with it. Was he still holding onto the hope that Batman would come?

His once hopeful, ocean blue eyes were now filled with pain as he looked at the picture. And that's when his heart shattered. It was official, and he couldn't believe it. "No," he muttered, hyperventilating and struggling against his restraints as tears streamed down his cheeks. How could Batman do this to him?

Harley wasn't given any orders 'bout dis kid. She was actin' on her own, 'cause Mistah J didn't tell her what he planned ta do with da lil' bird who's no longer Robin. What did he have in mind for him?

Finally, da boy gave her somethin'. She heard da hitch in his breath an' it made her grin from ear ta ear. But he still didn't say a word. Dis kid was gettin' on her nerves, but he also kept her interested. She enjoyed playin' with him like a black widow playin' with its prey before devourin' it.

Now, sittin' on his lap with one arm 'round his shoulders, she watched his reaction ta da photo. But she wasn't prepared for da boy's response. He looked not only broken, but betrayed and hurt. "Dawhh- did I hit a nerve? hmm" Harley stroked his hair, not ta comfort him, but ta tease him. Her hands were stained with his blood from earlier. What da heck did Mistah J do ta dis kid?

"Ugh!" she exclaimed as she stood up. "Don't just cry like a big baby! Tell me how much ya hate him now. Tell me how much ya wanna kill da new boy who replaced ya! Is he even wearin' your cape or somethin'? How does dat work?"

"Tell ya what," Harley spoke after a short while, hands on her hips as she made her way back ta da boy. "If ya promise me ta kill da Bat too, I'll give ya da means ta do it with."

That photo, the proof that his old man, his mentor, chose someone else over him. Maybe that's why he never bothered to find him. They call him the greatest detective, but if that's true, he should've found him by now. Which means he never even looked. But now he knows why.

Her hand ran through his hair, slick with old blood. It was almost soothing, but he knew what she was up to - playing mind games. Trying to push him over the edge by giving him a moment of peace, then snatching it away. Nice try, but he's been through too much for that.

His body was failing him again, and he was mad. So mad he wanted to scream, but instead, he found himself crying. Was it from the pain, or something else entirely? He didn't know. He looked around, desperate for a way out, but he was stuck, trapped like a bird in a cage.

His visual search came to a stop as he looked at Harley. She had something to offer him. Something that teetered on the edge of madness and sweet, sweet revenge. She even talked about offing the Bat...

He'd heard that line before, too many times to count. It almost seemed normal now, and sometimes he even craved it. To make Bruce feel the same agony he felt. But he shook his head, low and slow.

Harley gave him plenty o' time ta think, but now she wants things done 'er way. He's bein' too quiet, an' that's no fun at all. "No?" She says with a dramatic sigh.

Kickin' his chair so he falls backward, she taunts him with a "Byeeee." But that's not enough for wastin' her time an' refusin' her offer. She struts over to tha boy, still bound ta his chair, an' presses her foot onto his chest.

"Rule number one: If you're not a birdie anymore, ya answer to me!" Her foot presses harder inta his ribcage. "Rule number two: Ya should have accepted it, bird brain!" She holds up two fingers ta emphasize her point.

She can see tha boy getting angrier, an' that's thrillin' for her. "Don't ya hate him?" she asks. "Don't ya see what he did to ya? He let ya go on your own an' never came for ya. Instead, he found some otha kid!"

"Ya've been replaced. Why not show him what he missed, huh?" She leans down closer ta him, twirling a strand of hair with her fingers. "I want you ta kill the Bat for me. Can you do it?"

Harley wishes she had her bat or mallet with her. It would be so much quicker ta get her answer that way! There's nothing in tha damn room to hit him with, except for her fists. But she gives him one last chance ta do as she says.

His eyelids shut tight, trying to erase the sight of his ex-mentor letting the new Robin take up his mantle. Suddenly, he was thrown backward with a jarring shock that sent him reeling.

His head smacked into the ground with a brutal thump, eliciting a grunt of agony from his lips. His vision grew more hazy, and he gasped for air as the wind was knocked out of him upon impact.

The barbed wire dug into his flesh, drawing fresh blood with each movement he made. He couldn't take it any longer. Every time he tried to shift to a new spot, he felt aches he was sure he hadn't felt before.

With her foot planted firmly on his chest, he felt like he was on death's door. His eyes drooped, and he coughed violently as he struggled to breathe.

She was right. He had to let Bruce know he was alive, and he had to make him pay for not coming after him. He needed to show him that he could beat him.

His jaw clenched, and he spat out a mouthful of blood as her boot slammed into his face, forcing him to look away from her. "Fine. I'll do it - I'll kill Batman," Jason growled.

For a moment, there was nothing but silence, and then she lifted her boot. "I'll...kill...Batman," he repeated, fully aware of what he was saying as he looked up at the harlequin.

An' just like that, Harley found herself tha perfect chance ta make someone do her wicked biddin'. Take out tha Bat so she could have Puddin' all ta herself! Ain't it a beautiful day?

"Hmph!" Harley pretended ta mull ova his offer, tapping her finger on tha side of her chin an' playfully rollin' her eyes. "Alrighty then!" she shrugged.

"You can't take on Batman like this, sweetie. He'll just laugh at ya! But lucky for us, blondie here knows just what ta do!" She gestured towards her chest with 'er thumb.

Spinning around, she hollered towards tha door. "Hey, you guys! Get in 'ere an' do something!" Harley ordered her goons ta release Jason from 'is restraints.

Harley expected him ta be all ready for action or somethin', but that wasn't tha case at all! She turned ta tha men again an' asked them to get him some clothes from Arkham's laundry an' then ta move him to another cell later on.

As they scurried off ta obey her, Harley kept her eyes on tha boy, who still hadn't gotten up from tha floor. Arms folded across her chest, she asked him, "So, how long have ya been here?"

Harley was a bit bummed she didn't have a hand in his capture, but now that he was up for doin' her biddin', she was a happy girl.

He shut his eyes, but this time he did it slowly. In relief, no less. He heard the ruckus but didn't give a damn. All he could think about was how he was about to be free from these damn restraints.

He forgot the days when he last stood on his own two feet. It felt like an eternity ago. His pity party was interrupted by the sensation of being hauled upright again. Men cutting the barbed wire from around his chest. He was jolted off the chair and onto the floor. Rude, but at least he was somewhat free.

Once again, he was on the ground. It felt good to be in a different position. Hell, just being able to move his body at all felt like a luxury at the moment.

The men left, and he let out a sigh. He tried to get up, but his body was weak from atrophy and shaking like a leaf. He felt his weight ten times more than before, even though his Robin outfit was slightly bigger than before.

He heard her ask a dumb question. He had no concept of time anymore. He had no idea how long he'd been stuck there, but it felt like forever.

"Weeks? Months?" he threw out a guess, hoping she'd leave him the hell alone. He stirred and rolled onto his back, looking up at her.

Th' clown-faced gal blinked at th' boy in front of her. Weeks? Months? He's been held hostage fer that long? Geez... that's harsh.

"Fine!" she spat out, not lettin' her Harleen side interfere with her twisted plans. As she saw him strugglin' to even move, she shook her head at him. "Ya better get ready, we got a ton o' stuff ta do!"

As they both locked eyes, she could see he was just as wrecked as she was. She then dropped tha orange Arkham jumpsuit onto his chest, her hands returning ta her hips. "Keep 'em until they move ya outta tha cell, ya gonna stay for a while."

Tha jester told tha goons which cell he would be taken to, ta have him showered an' fed. Meanwhile, she pulled some strings in 'er favor ta get tha ball rollin'.

With Joker away on some other task, she had ta run the place herself. She was more than capable anyway. These men were scared outta their minds of tha queen o' crime!

"Oh, and if ya try ta escape? The offer's off tha table, an' ya can kiss the light of day goodbye!" she yelled into his face. Turnin' around, she headed for tha exit to begin her master plan.

First thing she checked was who else 'happened' to be in Arkham. That kid needs some training' but also new toys an' a whole new look!

Did he sell his soul to the devil? 'Cause that's what it felt like. That orange jumpsuit was a real kick in the pants. Never in a million years did he think he'd be sporting Arkham's threads.

Some other slammer? Maybe. But not Arkham. No point in dwelling on the past though. Robin was gone, dead to him, dead to everyone, especially his old man.

He had to take it day by day and rise up from the ashes. Show Batman that he's not some punk off the street he took in out of pity. Take on the Robin mantle only to rip it away from him.

Were those the Joker's words or his own? It was all starting to blur together. But one thing was for sure, they were right. He didn't need anyone to save him, he could do it himself.

Then three goons come up on him and drag him to another cell, or so he thought. They knew who Robin was, 'cause he probably handed them their asses before. Well, now it was payback time, 'cause they didn't leave until he was out cold.

He woke up to the icy water from the shower running over him, huddled up in a corner. 'Get up and get ready before the boss lady shows up' one of the goons who just laid a beating on him said.

With her pigtails bouncin', hummin' her favorite tune, Harley sauntered down tha halls of Arkham, draggin' her mallet along tha steel cages of those foolish animals who dared to run Gotham without her an' her puddin'.

Despite tha screams an' insults hurled at her, Harley was lost in her own thoughts, focusin' on her plan. That is, until she heard no calls that didn't fight back or throw insults from a particular cell. She had ta investigate.

Tha jester leaned against tha steel bars with a light thud, tauntin' Deathstroke who lounged on his bed, throwin' a ball against tha wall. "Whassup, daddy?" she said, grinning mischievously.

"You lookin' ta bust outta here? 'Cause I got a deal for ya." She knew he wasn't tha friendly type, but Harley wanted something from him.

"I got fresh meat for ya," she said, swingin' against tha bars ta catch Slade's interest. She giggled as she heard tha ball stop its thuddin' against tha concrete wall. She had his attention.

"I need ya to train someone for me. And if ya do it, I promise I won't stop ya this time." She ended tha sentence in her sultry tone, rememberin' when her an' Joker meddled in Deathstroke's business an' ended up in Arkham. Just adding her own touch to it.

Slade's eyes fixated on the harlequin with a scowl. "I ain't your puppet, Quinn," he growled before returning to tossing the ball against the wall, the room reverberating with each thud.

He was there on his own mission. A lone wolf, Slade had no interest in getting involved in what he saw as kiddie games with Harley and her clown. But when he overheard Harley talking about training someone, he became curious. And so he sat up in his bed, taking in the jester on the other side of the cell.

"Who? And why should I agree to this?" Slade wasn't one to mince words.

Meanwhile, Jason hurried through his shower, shuddering under the frigid water that felt like needles piercing his skin. It had been months since he had felt anything, so the pain was almost a relief.

His broken ankle made it difficult to stand upright, but after much effort, he managed to pull on his orange jumpsuit and hobble back to his cell. Once inside, he lay down on what passed for a bed and let the pain wash over him as his body readjusted to being upright again.

"Ya know, you're in a pretty tight spot now, ey? Means ya gotta follow what I say!" Harley taunted tha one-eyed marksman with a sly grin on her face. "We got someone in here who was taken from tha Bat, could be a real nice tool ta use against him if ya got some beef with tha big guy. And guess what, you'll get a whole buncha' shiny new toys to play with, 'cause Roman's warehouse is goin' up in smoke!" she finished with a cackle, layin' out her master plan.

Sure, Mistah J would never have let her go off on her own like this, but Harley was gonna show 'im. Show her puddin' that she could run tha show on 'er own. He always talked big about killing tha Bat, but he never got anywhere with it!

Once Slade reluctantly agreed ta her plan, she clapped her hands an' squealed with delight. "Yay! I'll bust you outta' here an' introduce ya to your new student!"

Returnin' to Jason's cell, she knocked on tha steel bars. "Knock, knock, birdieee! Tomorrow you'll have a new trainin' partner, so ya better get ready... oh, an' here's a little prezie for ya!" She tossed in tha photo of Batman an' the new Robin, stirrin' up Jason's emotions an' fueling his rage even more.

Slade would jump at the chance to get revenge on Batman, especially now that he knows who's been taken from him. Deathstroke and Jason, as Robin, have a bit of history between them, having crossed paths before.

Despite being more free to move, Jason is curled up in a ball, finding comfort in the pain that lulls him to sleep. When he opens his eyes, he sees the jester knocking on the steel and

babbling about a training partner. Doesn't she see how messed up he is? He knows he has to tough it out, but he's worried about more beatings.

He wonders who this new training partner could be, and for a moment, he's afraid it's the Joker, playing games with his mind. But he shakes off the thought and looks at the photo that stirs up his stomach.

He can't make out who the new face is, but he wonders if this person is different from him, someone who isn't filled with rage or from the wrong side of the tracks.

The urge to tear the photo to shreds is strong, but he takes a shaky breath and places it under his pillow, using it as a goal to motivate him to come back stronger. The night is full of dark memories and dreams, and he has no idea what the next day will bring.

Tha siren blared, sendin' a thrill down Harley's spine. Nothin' like a little chaos ta start tha day, she thought. Her plan was finally goin' inta motion, and she was giddy with excitement.

"Rise and shine, fellas!" she sang, her voice echoing through tha halls as she pranced around.

She stopped in front of a particular cell, leanin' against tha bars with a wicked grin. "Good mornin', birdie! Time fer class!" she said, jinglin' a pair of handcuffs in her hand.

She didn't bother waitin' fer an answer before unlockin' the door and cuffin' the boy. He was a tall one, she noted, and kinda cute. "Don't mind me, handsome," she purred, runnin' a finger down his arm. "Just takin' ya on a little field trip."

Harley's men escorted tha boy to the courtyard, where she joined them after fetchin' Deathstroke. "Today's gonna be a good day," she told one of her goons, grinnin' from ear ta ear. "It's like watchin' a cockfight - two opponents in a ring, fightin' it out. That's what I call trainin'!"

As she settled in ta watch tha bloodshed, Harley felt a rush of excitement wash over her. It was gonna be a great day.

The night was a real mind fuck, filled with terror and darkness that consumed his being. His body felt like a raggedy old piece of cloth, exhausted and worn out, yet his mind was plagued with twisted dreams of pain, death, and betrayal by his former mentor.

As he woke up, he felt groggy and disoriented, staring at the drippy sink in his cell, which made him feel like puking his guts out. He couldn't choose the luxury suite, could he? At least he had a roof over his head and a bed to sleep on.

"Fuck this," Jason muttered to himself, staring at his broken reflection in the mirror once he got up, which was about to shatter any moment. He recalled his training days when Bruce used to say, "Focus on what you want to achieve," which Jason repeated to himself.

The moment he saw the cuffs, he knew he was in for another round of torture or something similar. The anxiety level shot up, but he held back his fear, not daring to show his weakness.

Despite his sore ankle, he was dragged to the courtyard, where he squinted his eyes and rubbed them to adjust to the daylight. As he tried to regain his focus, he saw someone approaching him in an orange jumpsuit. He wondered if it was Grayson or someone else, but it turned out to be Deathstroke -this ought to be hell.

Once tha jester caught sight of her two puppets giving each other tha stink eye in the courtyard, she dropped her slice of pizza an' leaned forward like she was watchin' a blockbuster movie scene. Her henchmen in tha background were already placin' bets on who would draw first blood.

She tried to make out if they were saying anything, but so far it was all silence. Harley let out a sigh and sat up, adjusting her pigtails. "Why's she gotta do everything 'round here?" she grumbled. It didn't take long for her ta strut out ta them.

"Y'all gonna exchange life stories or are ya gonna train?" she snarled in Jason's face. "Don'tcha know we got a mission ta do? You," she jabbed a finger at Salde, "ya gotta train him," she pointed at Jason. "He promised he'd take care of tha Bats for me," she finished with a dreamy voice, hand on her heart.

"Now, I brought some toys, as promised," she gestured to a trunk on tha side of the courtyard. Instructing her men to remove their cuffs an' see what they were capable of, she barked, "Don't be shy now - tha clock's tickin'!"

One of her goons interrupted to inform Harley that she was needed elsewhere. Some loony managed ta escape his cell, an' instead of Harley dealin' with it herself, she ordered her men ta toss him inta the courtyard with her two boys ta see what they were made of.

Jason knew where he stood, on the other side of the tracks, the very same tracks he once fought against. He was expecting a beatdown for what he did to those crooks. It was poetic justice, but it was still gonna hurt.

Slade, the old man, gave Jason a nod. "Looks like you finally learnt your lesson, Kid," he taunted him. "Now you know why you shouldn't be running around without following orders." Slade wanted to get under Jason's skin and mess with his head.

"What the hell do you know?" Jason retorted, his old Robin attitude seeping through. But their spat was interrupted by Harley, who was eager to see some bloodshed.

Jason's eyes fell on the trunk. Guns and weapons were inside, and it felt like a suicide mission. Slade walked over to the trunk, took a gun, and threw it to Jason. He examined the gun in his hands. Bruce wouldn't approve, but Bruce wasn't here now. Bruce had abandoned him to die.

Jason had some gun training as Robin, but it wasn't the focus of his training for obvious reasons. Suddenly, a man came running towards them. Both Slade and Jason remained calm. Slade didn't even look and shot the man's ankle to stop him. The man's screams of pain echoed through the courtyard.

Jason didn't flinch, but he knew Slade was serious. This wasn't training, it was a test of survival of the fittest.

Harley's laughter echoed through tha courtyard as she watched tha chaos unfold. Turnin' ta one o' her henchmen, she nudged him with her elbow. "See? Ain't this a hoot? I knew it would be!" With a playful twirl of her hair, she tossed him tha keys. "You handle them. Mama's got work to do!"

An' work she did! Harley had a lot on her plate. She needed everythin' to be just right before her puddin' came back. It had ta be perfect, no room for error!

Her plan was workin' like a charm. Tha new kid was trainin', Slade was holdin' up his end of tha bargain, but it needed ta be bigger! It couldn't just be a one-man show. She was ready ta declare war on tha city an' it had to be done right.

But preparation takes time! When that Scarecrow guy hinted at his plan ta bring down Gotham, Mistah J just laughed it off. But Harley saw it as tha perfect opportunity ta put her plan into action. Soon...

Weeks became months, and months became what it feels like an eternity. The kid who used to light up the room, the one who believed that being Robin was the "best day of his life" was long gone. Now, all that was left was a seething hatred that fueled every move he made.

The pain of what his former mentor did to him was always there, gnawing at him like a hungry rat. all the beating's and words he got form the Joker, fueled his hatred and so they were now his ally. He fought harder, he fought dirtier. His only mission was to make anyone who got in his way and the one man pay for what he did to him.

In front of the shattered mirror, he repeated his new mantra over and over again: "He did this to me." The boy who once wanted to save the city now only wanted to see it bathed in the blood of its criminals, and the blood of the one man who broke him.

As the cell door opened, he didn't need to be forced out. He strode down the hallway like he owned it, his steps confident and strong. And when the garage doors opened, he saw what awaited him: an arsenal of weapons and armor, just waiting for him to claim them.

Spinnin' 'round in her chair, she tugged at her bubblegum, poppin' it loud between her pearly whites. When that big bad warehouse door creaked open, she stopped dead in her tracks, lookin' ova ta who was comin'.

"Welcome to yer own personal playground, honey!" she cackled, flingin' her arms wide open like she was queen of the castle. She had plenty ta say, but she was really just biding her time for the guy - er, the former Robin - to take in what he was seein'. She needed a brave soldier to test out her brand spankin' new weapons and guns! Maybe they'd get tha job done right this time.

"What's tha holdup, suga'? Ya here ta play or what?" The jester beckoned him inside with a sly grin, snatching up one of the guns from the pile an' tossin' it over to him. "Heard ya got a taste for these lil' babies," she cooed, eyein' him up an' down as he examined tha weapon in his hands. "This whole place is all yers now, so ya better use 'em well! And don't forget our little deal."

With a playful flick of her multi-patterned thigh-high socks, she stood up from her chair, ready to watch the show.

Harley's voice echoed through the garage, ringing in his ears. He couldn't say he was thrilled to see her, not after all the crap he's been through thanks to the Joker and his clown princess. But duty calls, and he had a job to do.

As he approached Harley, he caught the gun she tossed his way. It was one a custom-made weapon, with the Arkham Logo and Amertek's serial numbers. Amertek, the big guns of weapon and armor manufacturing in Gotham, supplying military-grade vehicles and whatnot. Harley had really outdone herself with these.

But as he held the gun in his hand, memories flooded his mind. Memories of Bruce telling him to drop the gun and not to use them, but Jason grew up with guns, using them to protect his mother and home. He owed it to the guns for keeping them safe from the dealers and pimps.

Then as he visually took in the suit, he couldn't help but notice the striking resemblance to Batman's suit in the Batcave. It had the Arkham Logo and made of the same steel as the military vehicle behind him. No capes, just a sleek, Terminator-like design. It was a masterpiece, and it would serve him well in terminating Batman's life.

"I'm guessing that is mine too," Jason said, nodding towards the suit. He walked over to inspect it, admiring its intricate design. This suit was going to help him get the job done.

As a doctah, Harley wasn't no strangah to seein' folks recallin' their past. She tilted her head, eyein' tha soldier up an' down. Poppin' her gum, she put her hands on her hips, lookin' all tough an' serious. 'Course, she always meant business.

She noticed how tha guy was underestimatin' her, bringin' in all these fancy weapons. "Ya didn't reckon on gettin' all these toys, did ya?" she teased, pointin' at his chest.

Hummin' a little tune in her head, she gave him some time to marvel at his new suit. Skippin' over to tha military vehicle, she leaned against it, grinnin' wickedly. "Would ya look at that?! Batman wouldn't stand a chance! HA!"

Her puddin' would be so proud of her! Finally, finally, she'd have her beloved clown all ta herself. His obsession with tha Bat was gettin' in tha way of her plans with her man.

"Why don'tcha try it on?" she nudged him. Bored, she crept up behind him, lettin' her hand skim over his broad back before settlin' on his shoulder. "I told ya, if ya followed orders, ya'd get some sweet gifts! Enjoy yer little playground while I check some other stuff. When I'm back, ya better have a plan on how ta get started! I'm gettin' impatient!" With a huff, she skipped away.

The whole time she was going on about her master plan and how she was itching to see Batman get taken down for good, Jason was trapped inside his own head. But when she asked him to put on the suit like it was nothing, it snapped him back to reality. He gave her a look, taking in her offer, and wondered where his old Robin suit was now. Probably burned to a crisp, he figured.

With a nod, he sucked in a deep breath as he watched her disappear into the shadows, leaving him alone in this massive warehouse. It was chock full of gear meant to help him take over Gotham and put Batman in the ground. He never would've thought he'd be here, but life's funny like that.

He picked up the helmet and studied it, checking out its sleek, sturdy design and the new blue color scheme. It was a far cry from the garish colors he used to have to wear as Robin. After a few moments, he started to don the suit, inspecting each piece of armor as he went along. It felt powerful and looked bulky, but was surprisingly lightweight. Best of all, it supported all his old injuries, from his back to his knees to his ankles.

He caught a glimpse of himself in a nearby glass and traced a gloved finger over the Arkham logo on his chest. It was crazy to think that a place that had broken him so badly had now built him back up again. Life's a damn paradox.

With a flick of a switch, he activated the helmet and its monitor-like vision filled his field of view. The helmet gave him incredible peripheral vision and was equipped with all kinds of readings and measurements that would be crucial out in the field.

Harley's been keepin' an eye on him through tha security cameras. She was gettin' all giggly an' pumped up. It was time, time ta get things rollin' !

But, this ain't a one-person gig. He needed some muscle, lots of 'em. But Harley knew he needed a plan first. She had some ideas, but she wasn't about ta do all tha work. She's done enough already.

Meanwhile, she wanted ta get him all fired up again. He was takin' it too easy this time. So, she went on a hunt an' found some articles about Batman and his new Robin. Turns out, this Robin guy was wearin' a suit almost identical to the one he came in with months ago.HAHA! They were tag-teamin' and bustin' up bad guys left and right, including Clayface and Scarecrow.

And, get this, she found a juicy article about Nightwing workin' with the dynamic duo in Gotham. Harley couldn't resist playin' with his head, so she circled Nightwing's picture with a big heart.

Over at the gun emplacements, Jason was surveying all the possible ways to wreak havoc. He wanted his own gear now, not just Batman's hand-me-downs. When he was Robin, he had those R-shaped Batarangs, but that was always Batman's thing, not his.

He cocked his head to one side as he studied two identical desert eagles that had been custom-built to be slightly larger than usual and able to fit together. During his time with Slade, he had developed a taste for dual-wielding firearms. As a younger man, it had seemed like a cool idea, but now that his intentions had changed, it was clear to him that having two guns would allow him to attack from multiple angles, giving him a tactical advantage.

He attached one gun to the other and pushed some buttons, then pulled a small lever. One stock extended, followed by the barrel of the other, leaving Jason to join them together to form what looked like a sniper rifle.

"Neat," he murmured, surprised to find that the voice that spoke wasn't his own. It was modulated to conceal his identity. That was perfect. Batman didn't need to know who was gunning for him until the very end, when he took his last breath and realized who had defeated him.

But enough of that. Jason needed to start planning his attack. He sat down at a desk, removed his helmet, and began plotting out key locations on the city map. His primary interest was in the watchtowers; he needed to have eyes everywhere. Jason had learned that if you wanted to take control, you had to know where your opponent was and be ready for their next move.

tha jester was sneakin' up behind tha guy, clutchin' her articles ta her chest like some kinda teenage girl. Once she got close enough, she slammed her stuff down on tha table in front of him where he was workin'.

"Lookie here!" she jeered at him, "Seems like tha new kid is makin' all tha headlines. Ya ever make headlines? ah don't think ya did to be real with ya." She tapped her finger on her chin, pretendin' to think. "Hmm... nahhh. Don't remembah!"

"Oh! But guess what?" she continued, tossin' Nightwing's article at him, "This guy's got a new friend in town too! Ya gotta get those plans ready 'cause ya missin' out on all tha fun!"

Harley loved usin' her knowledge for tha bad. She enjoyed toyin' with this guy's mind, or any guy for that matter. But he was young and vulnerable, so it was too easy for her.

"Hmm... all these names... We gotta think of a name for ya," she said, moving his chair closer to her and straddling his lap. She put his helmet on him and started to come up with ideas. "Robin was Batman's sidekick, but yer MY soldier. Yer gonna kill Batsy for me like a knight in shinin' armor! So I can have my puddin' all ta myself!"

Harley paused for a moment, lookin' at him with her blue eyes as she stroked his armored chest over the Arkham logo.

"You'll be tha Arkham Knight," she finally decided.

"Sounds bad ass!" She took her lipstick out of her cleavage and drew a smiley face on his helmet. "There now, yer all set! That should make ya smile!"

#arkham knight #arkham!jason #jason todd #batman #dc fanfic #dc comcis #arkhamverse #red hood #batfam #the arkham knight #dc rp blog #dc rp #harley quinn #ao3feed #ao3 stuff

10 notes · View notes