#gotta do some soul searching and MAYBE that means you secretly wanna be like them. bc otherwise i just cant wrap my mind around

[snekdood]

really weird when someone sees someone else dressed or looking a certain way and goes "surely this means this person is telling me i need to live my life like them"

[karmanticmoved]

1-85 uwu

j esus okay

1. describe yourself.

uh,, emotional ig, dumbass, quiet, exhausted all of the time, v queer, healthy mix of feminine and masculine, insecure, and not tha t great tbh. kinda a pussy ass b itch

2. if you could go anywhere for a week all expenses paid where would it be?

idrk. maybe somewhere like a hella nice beach in another country, maybe somewhere in europe. i like travelling but i hate the travel to get there and have no money so i havent put thought into it. maybe hawaii or somewhere like that.

3. do you have siblings?

the one thats still alive is my half brother

4. what is your favorite constellation, why?

orion maybe bc i don't know a lot but i can see that one from my bedroom window even in the city n idk. its comforting. or scorpius cause i'm a scorpio

5. favorite color.

yellow, pink, or blue.

6. what kind of music do you listen to?

almost anything. whatever catches my interest.

7. favorite flower. (you can name as many as you want cause flowers are awesome)

forgot what i said last time but those

yellow carnations i think?

8. if you could do magic, what is the first spell you would learn?

maybe smth to put myself to sleep immediately bc f uCk

9. favorite childhood memory.

my summer camp memories are pretty great. also memories of my dad and i going fishing are good.

10. have you ever been cheated on?

i mean in theory i couldve been bc online relationships but no. n im polyam and have identified as such for a majority of my relationships so no.

11. if you could describe your perfect room, what would it be?

big but not too big, yknow? like big enough that it can be filled and have room to walk around and lay on the ground or whatever but not Empty. and a pretty big bed to stretch out on, n a closet in the room. multiple windows w blackout curtains so theres light but it can be blocked out. n fluffy rugs or carpeting but preferably rugs in case smth spills so we can get it out of at least Remove the rug. and probably a cat tree thing in corner for dipper. n a computer desk and actual lights that light up the whole room. but probably,, fairy lights too bc full lights too bright. and i kinda want a pink room but blue or yellow work also. a nd pride flags on the walls + posters and various other stuff bc plain walls are boring. and tons n tons of b ooks too.

12. favorite animal.

river otter

13. what was the last photo you took of?

cat

14. do you believe in soul mates?

i'm not sure. i do kinda think there are people who you will like. really really click with and who become so important in your life that they're like. apart of u yknow? but i don't think that anyone as an individual needs to keep those people in their life forever. they arent destined to stay with them, and they shouldnt force that relationship (platonic, familial, romantic, or whatever) even if they were close for years and years. screw destiny. youll have people you care about, and sometimes you have to break that bond to save yourself, and thats okay. there will be other people who can and will be just as important. that got kinda off topic skbsks. i don't think theres really like Destiny soulmates. but there could be like. soulmates in the sense of for however long we're together, we're soul bonded. even if its not forever. does that even make se nse skbsns

15. do you hang toilet paper over or under?

over is the one thats socially acceptable right

16. your go to place to eat & your favorite thing to get there.

idk theres a place near a movie theater closeish to my house and its a nice little cafe and i dont eat there bc i dont eat much in general but i get their bubble tea and i love. raspberry bubble tea w rose popping bubbles. its comfort drink.

17. do you believe everything happens for a reason?

no. sometimes shit happens for no reason, and its bullshit, but you can't reverse it, so you gotta figure out how to move on from it.

18. guilty pressures?

im assuming thats meant to be pleasures

umm,, idrk. i don't know what exactly i like that would count as a guilty pleasure so,,

19. favorite mythical creature, why?

merpeople are s o cool i fuckin. love funky aquatic pals hell yeah. maybe im just Water babey but. they're rad. dragons are also hella cool bc like dragons???? theyre scaly and prett y and can breathe fire or have wings and kill u?? also like selkies bc again. water. but i used to hear a lot of stories abt them and theyre so nea t

20. something most people don’t know about you.

i have the potential to be a huge asshole and also kinda Wish to fuckin murder someone sometimes but. i act nice most of the time anyway.

not murder murder but i can get angr y enough that i just wanna Stab smth

21. where did you grow up, what was it like?

grew up kinda near the edge of the city, still in it but not like the main city area. in western washington. it was kinda rly boring, i used to spend a lot more time outside or just by myself playing with leaves or toys or whatever. when i had friends i played make believe w them even when outside of school. so yeah. boring id say.

22. do you believe aliens exist?

sure.

23. what was your last google search?

other than names for some actors n stuff, i was looking up various star wars things

24. what did your last relationship teach you?

the one that like. ended? i guess thatd be. be careful with your own feelings and try to figure them out before jumping into anything, and also don't try to force smth that in reality isnt really working.

25. would you relocate for love?

honestly yeah

26. do you hold grudges or forgive easy?

both. it just depends on how badly i or someone i care about was hurt by it. more likely to hold a grudge if a friend was hurt by someone d eep enough to leave a lasting impact or if they don't get a genuine apology i will be 🔫🔫. or if the person keeps hurting them. even if that person is also my friend.

27. favorite book.

favorite graphic novel is bloom by kevin panetta

favorite books in general are autoboyography, more happy than not, and what if its us. all gay. i know. its okay. im a kinnie.

28. do you consider yourself an extrovert or introvert?

introvert by far

29. have you ever kept a journal, do you now?

i tried once. i probably will have to once i go see a therapist, or at least one for my Bad Thoughts

30. top 5 favorite movies.

in no particular order

little shop of horrors, love simon, coco, it (2017 and 1990), and shazam! ig? maybe others but i definitely Forgot all the shit ive watched

31. do you believe that everything happens for a reason?

no

32. what is your greatest fear?

definitely gotta be all of the people i love hating me and abandoning me or secretly hating me and then leaving me without saying anything. and the worst part is im always afraid its gonna happen babeyy

33. favorite alcoholic beverage.

im baby

34. most embarrassing thing you’ve done.

im embarrassed by my own existence. i don't remember the Most embarrassing thing

35. do you believe in ghosts?

not until i have proof that i can actually trust and believe in

36. what is the best and worst part of your personality?

idk ig im nice. but im also. very easily set off on certain emotions especially the bad ones which sucks like especially jealousy bc i dont wanna!! feel jealous!! tho i think that ties into my greatest fear bc my brain immediately tells me im useless to everyone and they hate me. but. sometimes i get jealous and then feel bad for that and then hate myself for all of it. bc my friends deserve to hang out w other people and care about other people im just fucking stupid babey !!

37. should you split the dinner bill?

i rly don't get why you wouldnt tbh like if u both wanna be there u should both pay. but if one person gonna pay it should be the person that asked.

38. are you a good liar?

most of the time. when it comes to my mental health i can either lie great or im literally breaking down in front of the person so

39. what keeps you up at night?

depressing thoughts. anxiety about everything. wishing i could cuddle and fall asleep w jay. sometimes i just cant sleep bc im too restless.

40. would you rather go without your phone or music?

music. i need my phone to text my friends and i Need my friends

41. do you believe in god?

what god would let the world get to the point its at. what god would allow people to do such fucked up shit.

no. i don't.

42. how do you relax when frustrated?

cry, take a nap, take a shower, listen to music, cuddle dipper

43. what’s something that offends you?

when people go "oh yeah i support gay rights but im still gonna eat at chick fil a bc its good" like i get so fucking. pissed off by that. youre not gonna fucking s ta rv e without their goddamn chicken. i know a bi person who goes there and says its okay bc they dont Directly Give Their money to Specifically anti gay organisations but im just. ugh. fucking pissed bc there are other places to get food just avoid the one place for fucks sake. their food is good it doesnt matter. its like saying yeah pewdiepie is a bad person and nazi and a racist asshole but his videos r funni haha so im gonna watch him anyway

44. favorite food

i hate myself whenever i eat food

45. if you were on a 10 hour flight and could sit and talk to any person the entire time, who would it be?

@destinedformuchmore or @pinaplelee

46. when do you feel the most confident?

never? but ig i feel confident when working on tech construction during theater tech. as long as i know what im doing.

47. what do you do in your free time?

sleep. draw. cry. play video games. talk to my friends.

48. is there anyone who has completely lost your respect

matpat did for being a dick abt neopronouns and making a transphobic joke and only apologizing when a cis person told him to. not when hundreds of trans people did. and also other jokes that are inherently offensive to various groups. a n d for making extremely not Child friendly jokes in his videos which are very much targeted towards kids. say what you will about the target audience, there are a lot of children who watch them. please stop making creepy nsfw jokes if you won't even swear, sir.

49. have you ever broken someone’s heart?

i guess so yeah. but she also broke mine first.

50. did/do you play sports in school?

i did. i don't anymore bc highschool sports are bullshit but. basketball, ultimate, and soccer.

51. when are you happiest?

talkin 2 jay prolly

52. coffee or tea?

tea

53. what is one possession you own you wouldn’t want to live without?

my binder. or my stuffed cat puppet thing ive had since i was 7

54. what is the first thing you notice about a person?

their general emotions, mostly. like if theyre in a good mood or if theyre bored or distracted or whatever. or if they seem interested in actually talking to me

55. what is your favorite season, why?

fall. my birthday, the atmosphere is nice, it's pretty, its hoodie weather.

56. what makes you laugh?

stupid little comments or jokes my friends make tend to make me laugh a lot harder than i should but jabdn

57. are you a clean or messy person?

a mix. i Cannot have some things messy or i will ksjqkd. Die but i don't make my bed too often bc its ha rd when its against 3 walls.

58. what is important for a successful relationship?

communication communication communicati

talk about ur goddamn problems n keep talking to each other.

59. what was your upcoming like?

if thats supposed to be upbringing

idk, very relaxed. pretty easygoing and kinda boring.

60. favorite holiday?

any holiday in december rly. i don't celebrate a Lot but the atmosphere and others celebrating is nice to see. i kinda wish my parents did more to embrace the jewish part in our family blike. whatever. christmas is fun.

61. what is the first thing you’d do if you won the lottery?

give half of it to my parents. and then probably use it for plane ticket

62. what’s the best pizza topping combination?

hawaiian pizza. pinapple n canadian bacon ty

63. favorite outdoor activity.

frisbee

64. how are you? honestly.

not great. i want highschool to end.

65. would you rather go camping in the woods or stay at a beach resort?

idk. camping is fun but if i get to stay at the resort for free i would rly love 2 stay at a resort tbh ive never done that

66. what is the most beautiful thing in nature?

waterfalls. or rivers or just. water in nature. and very green forests. aNd snow.

67. favorite type of candy?

none

68. if your life was a book, what would be the title?

i can and will do arson, an autobiography

69. what movie quotes do you use of a regular bases?

i quote john mulaney and whatever my obsessions are pretty regularly

70. what was cool when you were young but not cool now?

silly bandz. pokemon cards. these weird unicorn figures i collected

71. what’s the craziest conversation you have ever eves dropped on?

im mostly the one having the weird conversations

72. what’s the most interesting documentary you’ve ever watched?

i watched one about dogs and cats and their evolution which was lit

73. what’s the worst hairstyle you’ve had?

when i let the lady just go fuckin ham on my hair bc i was watching spirit that horse movie and didnt wanna stop so it was. rly bad bangs and hella short in back but not the sides

74. what do you like to cook?

whatever im hungry for. i don't have the energy to cook a lot

75. what’s the coolest animal you’ve seen in the wild?

really pretty tropical fish

76. what’s the funniest tv show you’ve ever seen?

idk. i rly like schitts creek its pretty amusing

77. do you usually follow your heart or your head?

heart at first but my head if things get bad

78. what is your favorite quote?

"i have a splitting headache and i think i'm dying. how are you?"

or a character just saying "try harder" when another failed to do smth.

this is supposed to be deep or whatever but im in a Mood

79. what’s the weirdest crush you have ever had?

once had a crush on a character in a minecraft parody lmao

80. what’s your love language?

sending shit that makes me think of them. n just. making tons of stuff for them both online and irl like bracelets.

81. do you ever feel alone?

oh yeah. all the time. im not but it feels like i am which sucks

82. ever been bullied?

yeah

83. are you usually early or late?

late bc of my parents rip

84. what kind of art do you enjoy most?

drawing, or writing. also theater.

85. what do you wish you knew more about?

i just wish i could remember everything ive learned more about. i know a lot i just forget all.

id like to know more about forensics tho

[abundantchewtoys]

HS Epi: Meat p19 reaction

I... don't really know what to expect anymore.

What could the wallet contain. A Dad note. A Terezi note. Or captchalogued people?

Odds are even we won't be seeing it right away. Though I'd dread to see Dirk's omniscient narrative voice take over narration of the post-victory scenes.

Still, Dirk should know better by now than to rely on his strong points this much. They're not evened out by a reliable moral compass all the time, and he's seen the results of that before. Guess with great knowledge comes great arrogance.

"Anyway, back to the B Plot." Ah yes, the B Plot. On Earth C. Featuring A2 trolls Karkat and Kanaya.

"Right about now, Jade should be wrapping up her political presentation to Roxy and Calliope" Ah, skipping right to the end of that, are we.

"Jade’s got this disarming combo of head-in-the-clouds flightiness and the kind of legit, down-to-earth cred that can only be earned by having done something like cutting open your own grandfather and stuffing him full of polyurethane foam." Ah yes, one of these definitely led to the other.

"neoliberal austerity measures" How often can we repeat the same 3 words?

"

Roxy groans upon hearing the phrase “neoliberal austerity measures” for no less than the third time in this presentation." Roxy the audience surrogate. Since it's our 3rd time too.

"JADE: as i outlined here in graph b-2 JADE: and here in figure a-6" It's a good thing timelines can only be scratched the once. A6 Alternia would have been a dreadful sight.

"JADE: and here!!! in this very spooky drawing i dictated to callie JADE: (great drawing by the way!!!) CALLIOPE: ^u^" Hah, Calliope's drawing skills have found another use! Political Powerpoints.

"JADE: the thing is that jane is an establishment leader JADE: shes looking at doing things the way our old universes did them JADE: shes pretty convinced that shes going to be able to replicate the capitalist hierarchies that earth had but in a more “responsible” way JADE: but none of that stuff actually worked!!!!!" That's a nice summary of the things that are wrong to Jane's approach, actually. Though it doesn't provide an answer to the underlying problem yet.

"ROXY: and u think karkat can do better? JADE: i think its worth it to give him a chance JADE: hes a leader of the people AND hes experienced firsthand what happens when establishment goes too far JADE: which i imagine you can sympathize with!" This really feels like a boardroom conference, with Jane trying to get a preliminary backing out of a captain of industry.

"Her graphs are floating around the living room in disarray." Hah, she's using her space powers for this in another mundane application. Though... not in any offical setting, it seems. Roxy and Calliope's home.

"CALLIOPE: i’m... CALLIOPE: going to get Us tea and snacks. woUld yoU like some, jade?" To be fair, Calliope's probably going to follow Roxy in her eventual decision, anyway. Her childhood fascination with trolls might have been abandoned for new interests, or she might trust her friend's judgment in matters political.

"Calliope excuses herself from the conversation, and flees to the kitchen, seemingly making no attempt to disguise the fact that she is in fact fleeing." What a cutey. Calliope might in fact be trying to flee anything reeking of negativity, associating it with black romance and such.

"Jade deflates as she watches her go, sensing that her presentation wasn’t the slam dunk she was hoping for." It's so easy forgetting that the narration is also at least in part steering the story at this point. >_<

"ROXY: well i gotta say ROXY: this has been a hella convincing argument all in all ROXY: buuuuut idk if i can help u out" Maybe they would actually like to stay neutral?

"She and Calliope live in a belfry above New Prospit. One end of their living room is an oriel window that looks out over a public park. The other disappears into an arcading hallway lit at the far end by a giant stained glass window that Calliope made herself. The corbels supporting it have windy, abstract shapes carved into them." Artsy! I didn't know what to picture for their living space, but actually Calliope taking to carapacian art-deco and giving it a cheruban twist really works!

"That’s what keeps Jade Harley flitting from couch to couch, relationship to relationship. She can’t stop thinking to herself that “home” comes awfully close to rhyming with “alone.”" Home Alone, huh?

"Home is John, who doesn’t call anymore. Home is when Rose and Kanaya welcome her in from a cold night and help her set lyrics to her sick basslines. Home is here, snorting at Roxy’s irreverent method of storytelling and admiring Callie’s art. Home is Dave and Karkat." This REALLY reminds me of the Tramp, as he had a home in every street he frequented.

"ROXY: im alls ABOUT the sowing of discord among my childhood friends" She's had quite her fill of the dramas. That's a valid reason to stay out of it. She'll just have to weight it against the downsides of not influencing the outcome of the election in any positive way.

"JADE: dirk got to you first ROXY: not even ROXY: i got no problem tellin dirk where to stick it lmao ROXY: but dirks not the one running JADE: you think hes NOT the one pulling the strings behind the scenes? ROXY: sure but give janey a lil credit" On the one hand I'm glad Roxy's got such a backbone, on the other hand, off course we know Dirk's still influencing the outcome at the moment. Also, uh, he's got no issues invading the lives of his friends personally, even after telling us off on the subject first.

"ROXY: but shes yknow JADE: ruthless? :B

Roxy frowns. Jade is being pretty unfair." I get the feeling Jade is less good at filtering her words lately. And I also get the feeling Dirk is starting to sow a little conflict.

"ROXY: shes gotta be miss perfect all the time for the billboards n press meetings ROXY: always wearin those power suits trying to look like a big bad bitch JADE: you mean like....... the condesce? ROXY: wow ouch JADE: im not just imagining it though, right??? JADE: you see it too JADE: not to dredge up something horrible from your history JADE: but her whole image is just kinda...... *woof* ROXY: is that what you guys think? ROXY: u and dave and karkat?" It's something they should have brought up via intermediary channels to Jane on beforehand. Not let fester until all they could think of to "stop" her was introduce a late-to-the-party candidate.

Jade might also be doubly upset with Jane for seemingly mirroring the Condesce, as they were both brainwashed by her.

"Roxy leans forward and stares Jade down, like she’s searching for something behind Jade’s eyes." That's the same thing she did with John! Guess she's trying to find out some of her secrets.

"Jade unwittingly responds in kind, looking for meaning behind Roxy’s gaze. But she comes up empty. And to be honest, so do I." That unfathomable personality might be your spanner in the works, Dirk. I can only hope she's secretly onto him. Her Void powers manifest the 'obscurity' different from Equius.

"In the spirit of full disclosure, Roxy’s the only one left I haven’t been able to crack. Her mind remains a total enigma to me, just like it always has." It's interesting, since they share so much in childhood upbringing, progeny, demeanor even at times...

"invisible, even to increasingly omniscient parties such as myself" *coughDocScratchcough* ... What would Reload Roxy be doing right now, assuming the session's timeline didn't stop when Caliborn's soul 'left' it?

"ROXY: but shes not betty crocker ROXY: and i luv her and i dont wanna hurt her feelings" N'aww.

"ROXY: and thats p much all there is to say on the matter" Second time the phrase's been used in the epilogues!

"CALLIOPE: oh, i’d rather stay Uninvolved, thank yoU." Passive player to the brink.

"CALLIOPE: i feel like interfering in both politics and a personal argUment between my friends woUld be impolite as well as kind of... stressfUl, to be honest. JADE: yeah JADE: sorry callie i probably shouldnt have put all that on you CALLIOPE: less apologizing, more snacking!" It's nice to see they're cutting her some slack. A horrible childhood, an early death, a spiel as a ghost... Oh, sure, she's one of the good guys and as such would have some responsibilities in the end, but it's nice for a change they don't expect too much from her. Maybe a bit too little for her own good, but still.

"Calliope claps her hands together. It’s a bright noise. Her tone of voice is bright too. All these years and she still can’t believe that she has so many friends. She smiles at Jade, and Jade smiles back. The tea tastes great. The cakes are even better. Callie’s an artist in everything she does." ^u^ Aww, that warms my heart at least.

"JADE: wow callie youre such an amazing hostess!" ... Well, she's a more excellent host than Doc Scratch, for sure!

"ROXY: psst not “her,” “them”" ... I see! Well, guess we'll be getting some more insight into the androgyn bodies of cherubs and how Calliope has updated her self image over all these years? Caliborn still had the giant eyelashes, so it stands to reason there were also other, more masculine traits to Calliope's body even when she still shared it with her brother.

"JADE: oh wow!" Oh, I figured Jade already knew about Calliope's preferred pronouns, but it seems not!

"CALLIOPE: bUt i did take comfort in “being a girl” for a very long time. this is something i’ve only recently decided." ... I just remembered how Calmasis also was this androgynous figure. ... I wonder if Calliope will be thinking about a name change.

So, I don't think Roxy's haircut is a sign she's genderfluid now too, but I imagine a lot of fanart has already been created for butch!Roxy by the time I read this.

"ROXY: m-me too actually" Oh. N-never mind then. That caught me unaware! I didn't see that in Roxy. For one, despite all the pink and the ponies, she didn't seem like she felt "trapped" in a role to me. Unlike Calliope, where I can see how she might have felt obliged to embrace everything not-Caliborn.

But this does shed a whole new light on Mom's overly childish and girlish bedroom in the lab. Like she was trying to compensate for something. Uhm... It might also be one of the main reasons behind her drinking problem. Her embracing girlish, adult woman habits but never feeling like they 'fit'.

Well well. Homestuck's main characters continue to be representation incarnate.

"Wait.

   What?" PFFFFFFFFFF. I love it. Dirk's reaction is gold. Guess this completely blindsided him too and didn't shed any more lights on the inner workings of her mind than he thought. So even if he knew she was holding something back after the "yea", and maybe encouraged her to keep speaking, he didn't know what to expect.

"Roxy? Seriously?

Like I said, fucking inscrutable." Dirk has NOT just had an "I knew it!" moment.

"I never would have guessed. Not that I’ve spent much time contemplating issues related to gender. I’m pretty secure in my expression of masculinity, and..." That's a suspiciously specific acknowledgement, though, Dirky boy. :P

"You know what? Fuck this. I don’t owe anyone an explanation of any sort on this topic. I’m confident with who I am, what I am, my gender, as well as my understanding of the concept. You want my honest opinion? It’s fucking fantastic. Good for them. Both of them, I mean, but also, both of them in a singular fashion, since each one can now individually be referred to by the conventionally plural word “them.”" Pffff, of all the things. I didn't think this would have Dirk fly off the handle in such a Dave-way, while still narrating, but I'm happy to see it. In an out-of-story sense, Dirk is currently the audience surrogate, showcasing what a "true fanboy"'s reaction could be like, if they were both shocked to the core but mature enough to get over their shock without throwing around accusations and tantrums.

But yeah, at least the aloofness is gone from his voice, for just this time.

"I’m ecstatic for this personal development they’ve embraced, for the people they are, the lack of gender they identify with, and the pronouns they prefer. I’ve got no problem with it whatsoever, and frankly, it’s fucking insulting anyone would ever imagine otherwise." I can picture him speaking through gritted teeth, it's glorious! 'This is good, this is fine. I am doing great!'

"ROXY: ahah hahaha hell of a way to come out" Ooh, so she's not even out to Jane or Rose yet!

"ROXY: what even is gender" That is SUCH a Roxy thing to say. Also, almost stoner like. Picture Gamzee going like (in his quirk): 'Have you ever really THOUGHT about gender, man? I mean, really THOUGHT about it.'

"Jade looks at where her hands are folded in her lap. Bites her lip. She has her own concerns about this, her own thoughts. Reasonable thoughts, I’d say." "ROXY: i mean that was all stuff from our old universe ROXY: whyd we even bring it here right? JADE: right" I think for Jade it's not something she'd discard so easily! I mean, it all depends on whether 'gender' is something antigonal to your self image, in the end, I guess. If it isn't hindering you... that's how you stay heteronormative in some or all elements.

"Calliope takes a teacake between two of her claws and eats it delicately, hyper-aware of the horrible gnashing and snapping her powerful jaw is capable of.

CALLIOPE: my ideas aboUt gend—

SHIT. Between two of /their/ claws." HAH. Oh my god. The narration cut off Calliope. ... Pffff, though it IS a good callout, since I've been using gendered pronouns still to refer to Calliope. Whoops!

"CALLIOPE: i sUppose i only thoUght of myself as a girl because my, Um... CALLIOPE: my brother took mascUlinity qUite serioUsly." A) Still not saying his name :P B) Using his preferred pronouns.

"CALLIOPE: by which i mean, he became very enthUsiastic aboUt all the things it sUpposedly meant to be a boy. CALLIOPE: cherUb existence is dichotomoUs, bUt not in the same way hUman biology is. CALLIOPE: i sUppose oUr view of hUman cUlture indirectly inflUenced alternia’s development, which in tUrn affected yoUrs, which is something i’ve had a lot of time to think aboUt since we came here." Oh right! Lord English & Doc Scratch helped shape Alternia's development, so in a lot of bad ways there was a focus on power and masculinity, which may have trickled down into Earth's because of who created our universe, and thus it might all have been a self fulfilling prophecy, what Caliborn's gender identity is concerned! Guess we were due another one of these loops. :P

"ROXY: so much of what earth c thinks what boys and girls “SHOULD” do comes straight from the imagination of a bunch of dumb teens ROXY: which is totally FUCKED JADE: sure" Yes, and so much of what Earth C "should" be like, as a victory state reward planet, and the epilogues by extension, exists only in the imagination of a bunch of dumb humans spread over this globe. :P I reek a callout. Not undeserved, mind.

"She probably would have loved being a “they” when she was a teen." (Referring to Jade.) I'll grant you that, Dirk. But I thought you were doing paraphrasing other people's thoughts for the course of this conversation?

"i liked the idea of dirk" He'll love to hear that. :P Well, you know, Karkat had the same thing, he loved the idea of Condesce as a powerful leader, if not always the result of that leadership.

"ROXY: and also literally no one else on the entire planet was alive at the time

ROXY: but we had some babies without even bein consulted about it anyway so w/e" Context!

"JADE: personally im a big fan!

And like that, Jade’s smiling again." Nothing like Dave & Karkat to lift her mood. :P

"The storm clouds pass so quickly in her world, you almost wouldn’t have thought there was anything wrong at all. Roxy and Calliope certainly didn’t notice.

But there is something wrong. And this time, they’ll notice." Uhhh, wrong with Jade? Or something wrong with Earth C in general? Besides Dirk taking over, I mean. Oh no! ... Calliope left the kettle on! :P

"JADE: i... JADE: i.........

Jade drops her tea. The cup hits the floor and shatters." ... Is she passing out?? Just like Rose??

... Oh no. This doesn't have anything to do with John going back, retconning the timeline, and some of their selves being killed right? It shouldn't influence them, since they're from a different timeline, but with the talk about canon and relevance and truth and shit...

Is Dave going to pass out next???

Did John accidentally change the Reload timeline to be the alpha one, and is the future adjusting to the changes??? Or is it due to something to do with Lord English' powers in killing a different 'real' version of them?

"She takes in a sharp breath. She’s not feeling well suddenly. She’s dizzy, feverish, seeing things beyond her field of vision. A blinding flash of light. A black, perfect circle, burning a hole in her eyes." Wow. Just like John, she gets a vision of the Black Hole! So, maybe it's more like she gets backlash from suddenly absorbing the memories of Reload Jade.

"She doesn’t look bad at all— Jade wears unconsciousness well, having spent the better part of her life napping." Aaaand we're back in sleeping beauty terrain.

"But she can’t hear her. Jade is somewhere else right now." Uhhhhh. I thought they didn't really dream in the dreambubbles post-victory no more?? Also, those were all destroyed by LE, anyway.

Dang. That's weird.

Are the B1 kids (adults) actually going to be gathering in the Furthest Ring in 'person'? But why, and how? ... There isn't anything like a 'dreambubble self' body that persists in the Furthest Ring that John could have woken up like how you could wake people up on Derse and Prospit. ... Now I'm reminded of an old fanart I made of a green moon circling the Green Sun, with green dream selves for all humans & trolls we knew at the time (B1 and A2). :P

[cecilspeaks]

Episode 106 - Filings

Why do birds suddenly appear, every time you are near? Tell me more about your special bird powers. Welcome to Night Vale. 

It’s been a long couple of weeks, as the city-wide emergency sirens that signal illegal public acknowledgement of angels have been blaring almost nonstop. But in spite of these archaic laws, I’ve been shouting “You’re an angel!” at beings who look like angels and then making my most friendly finger-pointing gesture.

The beings who call themselves angels because… that’s what they are, have begun filing the paperwork for official existence. The angels are still at the Hall of Public Records downtown waiting in line. They have made it to the front of line three different times, but each time, they were told they were missing a key form of ID or pre-application paperwork, or that the cameras could not record their image. They weren’t told his using words, the Records Hall clerk just stabbed their paperwork repeatedly with scissors and then got a massive nosebleed, which is how they know their application was declined.

Other citizens waiting have grown restless. As they do not acknowledge the existence of angels, the next person in line keeps walking up to a seemingly empty window, only to be brushed away by a clerk, or an angel. These citizens have begun shouting and crumbling and curling into little balls and sobbing, as large glowing cracks appear in the ceiling.

It’s been several days of waiting in line for the angels. We’ll check back in on them soon.

Oh, I have a new intern, listeners. He’s a fine-looking young man with a beautiful voice, I think he’ll have a great future in radio. I’ve been trying to ask him his name or who hired him. I certainly don’t remember beginning the search for a new intern, he just appeared this morning and started working without a single word. Which is the most professional behavior for anyone beginning a new job. Well, he seems hard at work, even if every time I address him he doesn’t notice me. It’s great having a competent replacement for Kareem, even if I have no idea how this new intern got here and who he is. As long as the filing is getting done.

Alondra Ortiz, daughter of Josefina Ortiz who passed away last month, has carried on her fight against the angels. The angels are claiming ownership of Old Woman Josie’s estate, since they lives with her and helped her build the many artistic monuments and cultural foundations around town. Alondra said she doesn’t care if angels are acknowledged or not. If they want to be recognized, fine, but Alondra and her lawyer, Emilio Tavarez have filed motions to maintain ownership of Alondra’s mother’s home, belongings, money, and memories. Just because a bunch of imaginary tall people with wings helped Josie change the lightbulbs from time to time, Tavarez said, that’s no reason they are considered next of kin. Tavarez told judge Siobhan Azdaq: “If they don’t exist, we must get kissed.” Judge Azdaq replied: “Emilio, it’s been four years. I’m remarried. We’re done, OK?”

The angels have hired five-headed dragon Miriam Adelman as their counsel, who issued a literally scathing response. Alondra is now suing Adelman and her team for medical bills resulting from second degree burns. Alondra has already put Josie’s home up for sale. She is willing to offer rebates for pre-existing damage, such as a series of large glowing slits in the walls that lead to rooms that aren’t… possible, according to the official floor plan, nor the laws of physics. These rooms range from a 17th century ball room to a crow’s nest on a modern nazy destroyer to the space shuttle. Plus, anachronistic people keep wandering in and out of these portals. She added, “On second thought, since the house has more usable square footage than originally anticipated, and because there appear to be current renters”, she’s raising the sale price.

So I just sent my new intern to go pick up some lunch. Or at least I said, “Excuse me young man whose name I don’t know yet who I only think works here, can you go grab me a cobb salad with extra whipped cream and pencil shavings from the Missing Frog Salad Bar? He didn’t say yes, nor did he ever seem to see or hear me, but he did look really frightened and ran from the room crying, which was such a polite and respectful gesture to his superior. What a nice young man. Dresses kind of weird though, so early 80’s, with his double Windsor striped tie, polyester coat and aviator goggles, just like we all wore back in the day. I supposed most things eventually come back in fashion. Well, I can only assume he heard my lunch order. I’m starving.

Faceless Old Woman: You’re starving? Try not having a mouth.

Cecil: Oh my god, you scared me. [chuckles] Listeners, we have an unplanned visit from the Faceless Old Woman who secretly lives in your home. Or I guess in this case, your radio studio while you’re still on the air.

FOW: Cecil, we need to talk about the Distant Prince.

Cecil: Few dare to speak at him, so as not to draw his attention. What do you know?

FOW: His harbingers are here. They are prepared to announce his arrival with their long, toothy beaks. They’re stomach-eyes see all. They’ve been rehearsing this announcement in their room at the Hampton Inn  on Route 800. They’ve been writing and rewriting their grand pronouncement and teaching it to the court shriekers to shriek out to all of Night Vale.

Cecil: What does that mean?

FOW: What, “shriek”? It’s like a painful yell. Like this: [disturbing scream] Meanwhile, the mangled servants are gathering the ears of important Night Vale politicians.

Cecil: Gross.

FOW: Right? And they will sew the ears onto the walls of the Hampton Inn continental breakfast bar and use them as portals into many dimensions at once. Their plan is to destroy time itself and collapse Night Vale into a dead singularity.

Cecil: Why do they want to do this?

FOW: It was suggested to him by a nice young woman from out of town.

Cecil: What young woman?

FOW: She.. she.. [music distorts, evil voice] The woman from Italy brings fun and jest, consuming all souls until none are left. Distant Prince and she plan the terrible plot: destroying all that is until all is not. I met her in dreams and found a dear friend, a woman a mortal mind can’t comprehend. No guard controls her, no physics can hold her, she’ll set the world on fire but leave you all colder. [music distorts back to normal] Yeah, she and I are best friends now. She’s a lot of fun, really good poet. I gotta go. Steve Carlsberg is back home, and I wanna stand behind him in the mirror when he bends down to wash his face. His shrieks are the funniest.

Cecil: Oh aha hahaha, dumb old Steve! Be nice, OK?

We are getting reports that a dense fog is now pouring from a giant glowing slash in the sky above the Rec Center. Some pteranodons have flown out of it, as well as a commercial airliner. And those who entered the fog reported hearing shouts, blood-curdling streams, and even the echo of drums. But there’s also the Battle of the Bands sound check happening right now at the Rec Center, so it’s probably just that. Either way, keep a close eye out for these apparent tears in the fabric of our reality. Also, go check out the Battle of the Bands. I think Diane Crayton’s son Josh and his boyfriend Grant are organizing that event.

And now a word from our sponsors. Today’s show is brought to by a grey pigeon, whispering to you from your neighbor’s backyard. The pigeon – his name is Alfonso – is telling you that you are the one true God. [serene voice] And that he wants you to bring it a body part. A human body part. Doesn’t matter which part. Just do it. [ominously] Soon. [serenely] “Time’s almost gone. The Bible was wrong,” the pigeon added, suddenly from your right shoulder. “There never was a beginning.” This has been a word from our sponsors.

Reports continue from the last few weeks of people all over Night Vale experiencing false realities. The most believable visions are those of tall winged beings roaming the streets and asking to borrow 10 bucks. City Council is issuing daily press releases, claiming the existence of angels is impossible and illegal. City Council is threatening to no longer speak to anyone who acknowledges the so-called angels. “You are uninvited to our birthday party,” today’s press release reads. “Too bad, there will be karaoke and minigolf. Your loss, angel acknowledger!”

A series of fissures in reality have begun to open up, revealing truths that should never have existed. Like the 12th century Scottish castle sitting atop the stables over on Galloway. Frances Donaldson at the Antiques Mall reports suddenly knowing how to play the piano, when before she only knew how to play keyboard. Larry Leroy out on the edge of town came home to find his wife, Chrysette, mowing the lawn. But he was never married. He last saw Chrysette in high school, when they were both in the lurching band together. And fired chief Ramona Encarnacion said she found a rock in the shape of Harry Styles’ liver. “I don’t know how Harry is getting by without his liver,” Incarnassian said. “Or given how much mud was on this thing, how he was ever getting by with it.”

Night Vale, beware the untruths which attempt to dismantle our town. Stay vigilent, read your journals, look at your photographs. Do your best to remember what is real.

Oh man, speaking of real, I’m real hungry. I wish my intern would get back soon with my salad. It’s been forever since he… Oh, wait. He left his wallet behind. Well, strike one, new intern. How are you supposed to buy lunch if you don’t take any money? Hope he has some cash in his pockets.

I’ll be so annoyed if lunch is late. Ah, this is a pretty nice wallet. Trifold, ooh photo pages, human leather, money clip. I used to have one just like this. maybe let’s find out more about you, kiddo. Let’s see. Bowling league card. Ooh, I love bowling. Young reporter’s league membership. Wow, it’s after my own heart. Photos of him with a young man he could probably be related to and, is that my… who are you? Where’s your driver’s license? Oh God. This can’t.. this can’t be. This here... just…

Uh, OK, here’s the weather while I sort this out.

[“All or Nothing” by the Dream Masons]

My new intern never made it back. He never left, or maybe, was never hear at all. Or maybe still is here after all these years.

After finding his… my… ID in his wallet, I ran out after him. But before I even got out of the building, I found him in the restroom. The door was slightly cracked and the light was on. I heard a voice, a familiar young voice. “Leonard said if I work hard, maybe I’ll be a radio presenter myself some day,” said the voice. I was so frightened but still I looked into the washroom, and he was standing in front of a mirror looking right at himself. I never look into those things, or at least I haven’t in a long time.

“I think the radio station is fun,” he said. “I think the radio station is hidden. I think the radio station is like a dark planet lit by no sun. I think, therefore I soon won’t be,” he said. I wanted to cry out to warn him. My mother told me to stay away from mirrors, and I knew he was in danger. I opened my mouth and tried to step in the room, but I could not speak, could not move forward.

“I’m looking in the mirror,” he said. “The mirror is not covered,” he said. “Stop! Don’t look into the mirror!” I tried to say, but nothing came out of my mind, only spit and inaudible wheeze. Tears stung my eyes. I waved frantically, trying to catch his attention.

“The flickering movement is just behind me,” he said, and then he looked right at me in the mirror. His eyes grew wide and wet. He said, “I…” He said again, “I…” and then he choked. Then he screamed, then I screamed, only again no sound came out. He fell to the floor, and for a moment, I remembered. I remembered blue lights and blood in my throat, and the dark planet lit by no sun and then I forgot it. Or at least what it looked like or, only that it was, or never was or it still is.  

His wallet was no longer in my studio, his… my… driver’s license was no longer in my hand, my familiar teenage intern was no longer lying on the ground. The mirror he was looking into is now shattered into thousands of intersecting cracks like parched desert dirt.

I approached the mirror, hoping to see a face I knew: a young man’s face I just barely remember. But I only saw a multiplicity of me, a man divided, unrecognizably under razor-sharp grounds, and behind me a glowing slash in the bathroom wall. When I turned, the whole in reality was gone. Only plain gray subway tiles.

I don’t know what is real. Myself as a younger intern, the Woman from Italy, these holes in reality. Harry Stiles’ liver. Harry Stiles. Are any of these things real?

One thing I know is real were the angels. After hours of waiting in line, their paperwork has been officially filed, with the Hall of Public Records, and a hearing date scheduled sometime between the last Friday of this month, and the last Friday of 2023.

Night Vale. Reality is failing us. And strange forces are gathering. The Distant Prince, the Woman from Italy. The dragons. Huntokar.

I don’t know what we can do to save a failing reality, I only know, uh… We can make real that which we acknowledge and accept. Angels are real, Night Vale. The actuality of people we rarely see or interact with may seem unimportant as fissures in our world, threatening to collapse anything we know but – if you see an angel, tell them you see them. Tell them they are real. Point at them and shout: “You’re. An. Angel!” we can only make real what we accept as real,. Tell them, OK?

Good night, Night Vale, Good night.

Today’s proverb: Good things come to those who wait. Good things come slithering down the unctuous brown stone walls to those who wait alone in the dark pit.

[bowditch]

Hullo there, Bruce & Jason family bonding. A fic request response for @mylittleangelxxx​ set in Cor Et Cerebrum continuity. 

Gen Rated T for language

The leaves from the puny, withered decorative landscaping tree in the crumbling plaza are tinged red with early autumn. The cracked parking lot with faded yellow lines is not the sort of place one might expect to find Bruce Wayne on a Tuesday afternoon, but he is there nevertheless, sitting in a nondescript car chosen for the occasion, waiting.

After five minutes pass, the low roar of a motorcycle engine grows closer. A figure in a full mask helmet takes a swooping right into the plaza and pulls up next to the car, almost too close to the driver door. The bike shuts off and Jason Todd takes his helmet off and hangs it on the handlebars.

He's parked so close that Bruce can barely open his door enough to climb out. He frowns at the bike and twists sideways to fit through the narrow opening. Jason makes no effort to move the motorcycle but grins crookedly at him.

“Hiya, Dad,” he says, and Bruce almost shuts the corner of his jacket in the door when he starts.

“You do that on purpose,” he says, only mildly irritated and mostly, secretly, pleased. He means, vaguely, Jason’s tendency to only pull out the familial name when he's either genuinely distressed or hopes to startle or otherwise jolt Bruce.

“What?” Jason asks, a hand over his chest. “‘Me? Call you father? The nerve.”

Despite the offended tone, Bruce is relieved that Jason seems to be in a good mood. He's been the most temperamental of their patchwork family unit for some time, but the past year has had the lemons-and-sugar effect of drawing the kid closer to family and rattling him physically and emotionally all at the same time.

As if Jay, of all people, needed more of that.

Instead of answering Jason’s mock outrage, Bruce tousles the boy’s hair hard enough to make him duck his head and swat at the side of Bruce’s face in retaliation. The blow cuffs Bruce’s cheekbone and even Jason looks surprised at how solidly it landed.

“Ow,” Bruce says, putting a hand to his face. “I probably deserved that.”

“You crybaby,” Jason shoots back, heading across the lot for the small store that is their intended destination. “It was frickin’ nothing,” he calls out behind him.

Bruce follows and quickens his pace to be walking alongside Jason, whose shoulders are hunched while his hands are jammed into his pockets.

“Jay,” Bruce says, as they step up on the curb in tandem. “Don't worry about it.”

Something in Bruce’s tone must convince Jason, because instead of tightening toward explosion, the young man visibly relaxes. The door bell chimes as Bruce pulls on the metal handle and they go from the bright autumn light into the dim interior.

The inside of the musty, crowded shop smells of ink and old paper and Bruce inhales deeply. Jason has pulled his hands out of his pockets and is already picking up clothbound books on the new arrivals shelf, turning them over as he studies the spines.

“Hullo,” a voice calls from the back of the bookstore. “Be right with you!”

The towering wooden and metal shelves are so closely spaced, it’s hard to see very far from the front counter. The shelving doesn’t match and Bruce has always guessed it was picked up piecemeal from library auctions, but he isn’t certain. The layout of the store is older than him, by maybe a decade or more.

Jason’s already tucked a book under his arm before turning for the taller stacks. Bruce catches a glimpse of it as he walks by-- it’s a worn Tom Swift.

“Are we looking for something?” Jason asks, scanning the shelves. They’re a mix in this aisle of more recent used books, none older than twenty or thirty years. Some of them have intact dustjackets with faded or folded edges.

“I haven’t stopped by in a while,” Bruce says, crouching in the narrow space to study a shelf of densely packed paperbacks. He makes a quick study of the vertical names, searching for Allingham or Sayers or anything missing from Alfred’s worn collection.

“You needed a babysitter?” Jason asks, amused, without looking down. There’s a tenseness in his voice when Bruce stands and Jason glances over, doing a single sweep with his eyes of the fluid motion. “You’re not nursing broken ribs or a fucking concussion, are you?”

“No,” Bruce says, letting the slight sting of the assumption wash over him and choosing to let it fade away. “Just thought you’d enjoy it. It’s been a busy few weeks.”

“Frick, but it has,” Jason sighs, pulling a book out to look at the cover. He makes a face and nods to it.

Bruce looks. It’s a painting of a vampire in a black cape with shining silver teeth, embracing a woman with blonde, curling locks and a sheathed knife strapped to her bare back.

“It’s you and Selina,” Jason says with a smirk, sliding the book back.

“Stop,” Bruce says, attempting sternness but failing miserably to his own ears. “Selina would never carry a dagger that impractical.”

In response, Jason snorts and then takes the book all the way off the shelf and holds it against his side along with the Tom Swift volume.

“I think I need this one,” he says, turning the corner around the aisle.

“Sorry about that,” the voice from the back of the store says, drawing close to them. “Was in the middle of glueing a spine.”

An elderly man with a stooped back emerges from a back room, just at the corner they’re approaching. There’s a flicker of recognition and then he smiles warmly.

“Mr. Wayne!” he exclaims. “I was starting to get worried I’d lost my bread and butter.”

“We’ve been busy, Mr. Murphy,” Bruce says easily and Jason gives a slight wave and resumes looking over a high row of much older books, with maroon or mustard or navy cloth bindings and embossed titles and curved spines. “We were overdue for a visit.”

“I’d say,” Murphy agrees. “And this boy of yours. I haven’t seen him in over a year.”

“I’ve been out of town,” Jason says, tearing his eyes away from the shelf. Bruce can’t tell if the older man’s attention is making Jason feel welcome or uneasy, the boy’s face is so impassive.

“Ah, well,” Murphy gestures a ‘what-can-you-do’ with his hands. “I have some things I’ve been waiting to show you, Mr. Wayne.”

“Lead the way,” Bruce agrees amiably, letting himself be drawn away from the $1 and $2 volumes lining the shelves of the aisle they’re in. They approach the front again, drawing close to the glass case near the register. Jason trails after them and then joins Bruce in leaning over the glass.

Murphy pulls a small keyring out of his pocket and unlocks the case from behind.

“This, this one I got from a German fellow,” he says, reverently lifting a gray and tan book. “Goethe’s Faust, a Harrap printing for London. One of a thousand in the first run.” He opens the book and holds the pages spread for them and Bruce scans the German verse without touching the book.

“Faust creeps me out,” Jason says, with clear admiration in his eyes.

“You prefer Marlowe?” Murphy asks, raising an eyebrow.

“If you sell your soul to the devil, doesn’t matter if it’s in English or German,” Jason says.

“Eh,” Murphy says. “Probably true.”

“I’ll take it,” Bruce says, eyeing Jason sidelong. The younger man, for all his protests, still hasn’t taken his gaze off the dark lines of text. “What else do you have?”

“You don’t have a Faust?” Jason asks, finally looking away as Murphy closes the book and sets it aside. “No. I know you have a Faust. At least four, actually. I remember moving them.”

“And now you do,” Bruce says casually, turning his attention back to the contents of the case.

Beside him, Jason freezes and makes a small noise of protest.

“You’re not going to buy me a ton of shit,” Jason says. Bruce thinks he sounds more pleased than annoyed.

“No,” Bruce agrees. “Which is why I had to get that one in before you were on your guard. Help me find something for Damian.”

“Is that a Narnia set?” Jason asks, peering down, distracted.

“It is,” Murphy agrees. “First American printing. Got it just yesterday, actually. Condition isn’t great but it’s not bad, either. Wanna see it?”

“Yes,” Jason says quickly.

“For Damian?” Bruce asks, guessing this to not be the case for a reason he can’t quite put his finger on. For knowing himself to be an intelligent man, it irritates him how often he feels dense.

“Damian doesn’t like Narnia,” Jason says, taking the offered box set in his hands and looking it over. Apparently, Murphy is unbothered by either of them holding these without a commitment. Or maybe he’s already assumed the sale from Jason’s initial reaction.

“He doesn’t?” Bruce asks. It doesn’t especially surprise him that his youngest isn’t as enraptured by fantasy, but he’s curious about Jason knowing this.

“The Calormen,” Jason says, looking up at Bruce with a crease of his brow.

“Oh,” Bruce says, understanding slamming into him like a careening steam engine. If he’d had a vague sense of feeling dense before, it fully floods him now. “Hm.”

If Murphy is intrigued by this exchange, he doesn’t show it or ask questions. He never has. Bruce isn’t even entirely sure the man is aware that Jason died or if his easy acceptance of Jason’s return is wrapped up in a mute, elderly wisdom of the contradictions of Gotham, even out here in the limping suburbs.

“I’ll take ‘em,” Jason says, surrendering them reluctantly.

Bruce considers, very briefly, telling Murphy to add them to his own tab, but suspects if he does so, Jason won’t show obvious interest in anything else. He decides to just keep track of how much Jason spends and then let Alfred sort it out somehow.

“I’m guessing this is a duplicate for you, too,” Murphy says, with an understanding smile.

“Yeah, you know,” Jason shrugs. “Might have kids someday. Gotta stock up.”

Bruce pretends to be engrossed in a bookbinding, partly so Jason doesn’t see his reaction to this casual statement and partly because he can’t actually figure out quite how he feels about it to hide it very well.

With a casual observer, he might actually be successful, but Jason nudges him in the side with an elbow when Murphy turns to wrap the set in brown paper.

“Oh, shoot,” Murphy says. “I've left the tape in the other room. I'll be right back.”

He leaves the counter, seemingly unworried about leaving them with the open case.

“Don't panic, old timer,” Jason says. “Dickie and I have a pact not to have any until we're sure you're done taking in strays. The family can only handle so much drama.”

“I'm done,” Bruce says resolutely. “And I don't take in strays. You aren't cats.”

“You keep telling yourself that,” Jason says smugly. “I'm waiting til Damian hits sixteen, just in case. It seems to be the cut-off. I'm not in a hurry.”

Despite his outward irritation, the slight glare he turns on his second son, something in Bruce is deeply relieved to hear Jason talk so openly and calmly about his younger siblings. It soothes concerns that Jason, even now, regards their presence as a kind of insult or intrusion.

“Alfred would throw me out of the house,” Bruce says mildly, instead of arguing.

“You could come stay with me,” Jason grins. “It'll be fun. Me, you, a salty teenager, a tiny apartment. Maybe we can get that reality show your PR guy keeps trying to talk you into.”

Bruce chuckles and asks, “Tim?”

“He thought you were considering it, you know,” Jason says. “He called me in a hot panic.”

“What'd you say?” Bruce asks, thinking suddenly of Tim and the fact that he should take the kid out for coffee or something soon.

“I told him it's be good acting practice,” Jason says. “That you sounded excited and we shouldn't take it from you. And that I was going back to stay with the Kents.”

“Jay,” Bruce says, trying to muster the ire to sound reproving.

“B?” Jason asks. Their eyes meet, Jason’s glinting with amusement that Bruce finds himself unable to not match. After a second, something in Jason’s expression shifts, his features more solemn though not troubled. “Shit,” he says plainly. “I've missed you.”

When Jason ducks his head, Bruce puts a hand on his shoulder and squeezes.

“It's been too quiet without you,” Bruce says. “You sure about staying in Gotham this year, though? Clark said Martha already thinks the house feels too empty.”

Jason nods and leans closer to a book.

“Yeah,” he says. “I already got stuff set up at Gotham U. It's time to just fricking get over it and be home. Damian would like that.”

It takes Bruce a moment to realize the last sentence was directed toward the book, and not connected to sentiments about Jason’s physical location.

“What is it?” he asks, twisting his neck trying to make out the faint title.

“Want to see another one? Ah, yes. The Histories.” Murphy asks, returning with an old tape dispenser. When he sets it on the counter, Bruce can hear the sand inside the false wood veneer shifting and settling. “I wasn't joking, you know. Not to pressure you, but I live for a month on your visits.”

“You're just appealing to my sense of pity,” Bruce accuses with a slight smile.

“I own a stinking used book store in a dying plaza,” Murphy says. “Rent is cheap but ebooks are cheaper. I'm not above honest begging to support my paper habit. Can't say no to a pretty book.”

“We are cut from the same cloth,” Jason says a little forlornly. “You want my advice?”

Murphy’s lips twitch, as if he's prepared to be amused, and he lifts the book out without them needing to specify.

“What's your advice, young Xenophon?”

“Find a rich guy to adopt you,” Jason says glibly, carefully holding the book and then handing it to Bruce.

Bruce intentionally and with some effort keeps his face carefully neutral.

“Huh,” Murphy says. “You in the market, Mr. Wayne? Don't know anybody else anymore.”

“No,” Bruce says, “but I'll take the Herodotus.”

“Give him three years,” Jason advises.

“I think we're done,” Bruce says and Jason sets the Tom Swift and paranormal romance on the counter. “Unless you wanted to browse some more.”

“Nah,” Jason says. “I gotta go get my rat from Dev before he gets too attached.”

Murphy begins ringing up the purchases and he pauses when he reaches for the Tom Swift.

“Separate bills?” he asks.

“Hell, no,” Jason says. “I'm broke.”

Bruce’s heart warms a little at this allowance, knowing that Jason both has money and is letting this one fall to Bruce on purpose.

“How long has Dev had the rat?” he asks, pulling out his wallet.

“Since last Thanksgiving,” Jason says.

“Jay,” Bruce says with a crooked smile, “I don't think it's your rat anymore.”

“Come help me liberate him,” Jason invites, a little pleading. “I can't face Dev crying all by myself.”

Murphy’s demeanor betrays no emotion besides mild good humor as he swipes Bruce’s card for the few-thousand dollar charge. Most of it is the Faust.

“I don't even like the rat,” Bruce says. “I told Cass it was a bad idea the first day.”

“Cass didn't listen to you about something?” Jason exclaims, taking the offered brown bag from Murphy. He staggers back in exaggerated and false shock. “The perfect child ignored your fricking wishes? Yours?”

“It is the only mark ever against her,” Bruce says dryly. “Thank you, Mr. Murphy.”

“Come back again,” Murphy says. “Soon.”

Jason nods and they step out of the shop together.

“How are you getting the rat home on a motorcycle?” Bruce asks, unlocking his car. Jason had paused to take the book for Damian out of the bag and he freezes, suddenly, and gives the motorcycle an angry look.

“I don't know,” he says stiffly.

“I'll give you a ride,” Bruce says. “We can swing back for the bike later.”

He waits a moment to see if Jason will argue or resist, either for actual reasons or just to be contrary.

“You sure?” Jason says instead, one hand on the passenger door. “I mean, jiminy cricket, aren't you busy or something?”

“My whole afternoon is yours,” Bruce says. He decides to push a little. “And dinner, if you want it.”

He wasn't lying when he said he had missed Jason. Even if there had been interludes where the family was together, or that week that Jason had surgery and it was just the two of them, it has been a long ten months. It is the sort of thing he felt himself more and more capable of noticing or acknowledging recently, as he is less totally consumed by work. He often finds himself forced to pay attention, by activity in the house and the transition of sullen teens into noisy, bolder young adults.

“Food’s my love language,” Jason says when Bruce joins him in the car. “Did Martha Kent tell you?”

“Alfred could have told me,” Bruce says, guiding the car out of the parking lot.

Jason falls silent and when Bruce looks over, he's perusing the Tom Swift book. Bruce is content to let the silence, which feels more comfortable than tense, settle over them for a while. He drives without forcing effort into maintaining conversation even though a question is nagging the back of his mind, something he's danced around and not directly asked Jason in the few weeks he's been back in Gotham.

It feels more pressing the longer they're on the road until the silence tips from casual to anticipatory. Jason closes the book and looks out the window at the bay as they drive over a bridge.

Bruce clears his throat and for all his usual decisive action, finds the words stuck there.

“So,” Jason says, almost as a prompt. “I think my course load is gonna be pretty heavy this year.”

There are methods of finesse and diplomacy that Bruce finds it easy to wield in the boardroom, when the subject is one he is easily detached from and can be analytical about. But the closer things move up from the work of his fingers to the beating of his heart, the more that tact falls away and he mentally resigns himself to bluntness.

“Are you going to patrol again?”

Jason doesn't look startled by the question but he does, briefly, look very torn. He opens his mouth, swallows, licks his lips and presses them together.

“I don't know,” he says after a long pause. “It feels like a waste not to. What do you think?”

A year ago, six months ago even, this might have felt or even actually been a challenge.

But right now, Bruce just hears an earnest and troubled question.

“I think you should do what's best for you,” he says, knowing this isn't much of an answer but feeling compelled anyway. Jason scoffs and turns back to the window.

“Sure,” he says, bitterly. “Fuck.”

“Jay,” Bruce says, slowing to a stop at a red light. He watches Jason watch the girls in the car stopped next to them.

“What,” Jason says flatly.

“This is hard for me to answer,” Bruce says frankly, thinking of conversations he's had recently with Selina. He wishes he'd talked this through with her, too. She's always been better at nuance. “If I tell you not to go out, I think you'll read it as doubt in your abilities. If I tell you to patrol with us, I'm worried you’ll feel obligated or avoid me.”

“That,” Jason says, looking down at the book on his lap, running a thumb across the cover, “is probably true.”

“So, what do you want? You've had a while off. Do you miss it?”

“I miss feeling like I was making a difference,” Jason says. His thumb traces the curve of a massive, wired contraption in the cover illustration. “But no. I don't miss it. I feel like I should and I don't. And I don't want to decide.”

“Then don't,” Bruce says. “Don't make anything final. Just be Jason for a while. There isn't a deadline.”

“I'm glad I was Robin,” Jason says suddenly, a little fiercely. “I don't regret it.”

“I know,” Bruce agrees quietly. “But you don't have to prove that by never moving on to something else. You can be a Wayne and not have the usual nightlife.”

Jason pulled his hand back from the book and cupped it around his ear, relaxing into a cheeky grin.

“Sorry, I'm a little hard of hearing. All those guns and not enough ear protection. Can you say that again?”

Bruce isn't quite ready to make it into a joke yet.

“I'm serious, Jay. It's my fault I've made it seem mandatory but it was never supposed to be.”

“Okay,” Jason says, lowering his hand. “I'll think about it.”

“And besides, Alfred would throw a party if he thought one of us had enough sense to get out,” Bruce adds, pulling into the parking lot.

“I might pretend to be sure, then, just to get a cake out of it,” Jason says, and the stress in the car seems to have melted away.

“He'd make one for you if you'd just ask,” Bruce says, turning the car off.

“That's not any fun,” Jason says.

They climb the interior stairs together and stop outside the door. Bruce has made the trek to this rarely visited apartment alone before; he realizes he has no idea how often Jason’s done the same. He knocks and there's the sound of movement inside.

“You can't sodding have him!” Dev yells through the door, without even answering. “You fucking abandoned him!”

“Algernon’s mine,” Jason yells back, pounding on the door again. “We had a deal!”

There's a long pause.

“He died!” Dev says vehemently. “Dames’ bloody cat ate him.”

“Alfred’s never hunted anything in his life,” Jason retorts. “He's too lazy.”

“The rat gave himself up,” Dev answers, sounding closer to the door now. “Get a new one if you bloody care so much.”

“I'm not paying for that,” Bruce says firmly.

“You're a fucking liar!” Jason yells.

“Sod off!” Dev yells back.

A door down the hall opens and a sleepy-looking woman leans out and glares at them, then slams her door shut.

The door to Dev’s apartment swings open and Dev is standing there, scowling. The rat cage is visible behind him on a low table, the supplies already gathered into a bag next to it.

“Hullo, Wayne,” Dev says. “Your son’s an absentee parent.”

“He came to see his grandrat,” Jason says fiercely, pushing his way past Dev into the apartment.

“I did not and never say that again,” Bruce says, going in after him when Dev steps back and gestures a welcome with a flourish.

“You've been back for weeks,” Dev says, a final and feeble protest.

“I was settling some stuff,” Jason argues. “Get your own rat. This was respite care and you fricking knew it. And only ‘cause Martha’s got a stiffer backbone than Bruce.”

Bruce’s eyes narrow at this but he doesn't put energy into challenging it.

“Yeah,” Dev says with a sigh. “Take care of him.”

“You're not really pissed are you?” Jason asks, turning a little in his crouch, where he's been petting the rat through the cage grating with a finger.

“Nah, mate,” Dev says. “I’m not home enough anyway. He's better off with you.”

“Of course he fucking is,” Jason says. “He's mine.”

“How've you been?” Dev asks, turning to Bruce when Jason leans forward to talk to the rat.

“Good,” Bruce says. “I'm wondering how much of this attachment to rodents is my fault.”

“Probably all of it,” Dev says cheerfully. “How’ve your ribs been, then?”

“Better,” Bruce says.

“They've been better or they are better?” Dev asks, pointedly. Jason looks up from the rat to shoot an accusing look at Bruce, his white bang flopped in front of his eyes. He brushes it aside irritatedly.

“You told me you weren’t hurt,” he says.

“They are better,” Bruce clarifies. “It was just two cracked ribs, Jay.”

“‘It was just two cracked ribs, Jay,’” Jason tells the rat in a mocking tone. “My body’s just broken but I’m fine.”

Dev doesn’t even look slightly remorseful for bringing it up.

“I hate to rush you,” he says, “but I’ve a night shift at the hospital.”

“Weren’t you at the manor for tea this morning? When do you sleep?” Bruce asks.

“I can’t even take that seriously, coming from you,” Dev says, without answering. “Out. I need to mourn the loss of my rat before work.”

“You coming to the thing?” Jason asks vaguely, standing.

“As always,” Dev nods, and Jason picks up the rat cage. Bruce takes the bag next to it without being asked. “Don’t have any sodding emergencies while I’m working,” Dev warns when they leave. “I’ll leave you to bleed out, just out of spite.”

“Noted,” Bruce says wryly. “Have a good night.”

The door closes behind them and it is only then that it occurs, fully, to Bruce that this means transporting a rat in the back of his car. He sighs.

“What thing?” he asks, while they go down the stairs.

“Oh, hell if I know,” Jason says. “We always pretend to have plans. I don’t remember how it started. Sometimes, we talk about shit we never did, just to drive Tim crazy.”

“I don’t have an older brother,” Bruce says pointlessly, knowing this is stating the obvious, “but I don’t think I would have handled one well.”

“That is literally the fricking understatement of the century,” Jason acknowledges. “But Tim’s usually pretty chill about it. We should actually grab him for dinner or he’ll probably just eat crappy ramen. I’ll text him.”

Bruce waits in the gathering autumn dusk, the slight chill of the air blowing over him, while Jason finagles the rat’s cage into the backseat. And though he usually dislikes being left out of making plans, he honestly appreciates that Jason didn’t need to check with him or study his response before committing to the text he is already typing to Tim, while he half-kneels in the backseat.

When he stands, his eyes still on his phone, Bruce puts the bag in the backseat and closes the door.

“Hey,” Jason says, without looking up from typing. “It’s been like, two years.”

Bruce looks at the low moon, rising slow and waxing full on the east horizon, just barely visible in the narrow window that opens between the buildings and the bay beyond.

“Yeah. It has been.”

“Huh. Thanks for not dying,” Jason says, attention still seemingly on his phone. “And thanks for calling today.”

“You’re welcome,” Bruce says. “One of those things was more my doing than the other.”

“Alfred made you call?” Jason asks, finally looking up and quirking an eyebrow. He grins. “Figures.”

“Get in the car,” Bruce says gruffly, a smile tugging on his lips. “Let’s go get Tim.”