#i started Dr. Faraday but never posted her

[mocha-illustrates]

i meant to say this ages ago but your animal crossing whf characters changed my brain chemistry HAH i saw ur tiktok post over them a while back and havent been the same since . love ur art !!! :)

waaa vic thank youuu!! I remember seeing you reblog those a while back and ur tags were so niiiice. I don’t know a lot of people who like whf so that interaction really stuck out in my brain and it brings me a lot of — dare I say — JOY ;)))

anyway I appreciate you so so much and I love seeing you on my dash aaa <333

[mediaevalmusereads]

The Little Stranger. By Sarah Waters. Riverhead Books, 2009.

Rating: 4.5/5 stars

Genre: Gothic fiction

Series: N/A

Summary: One postwar summer in his home of rural Warwickshire, Dr. Faraday, the son of a maid who has built a life of quiet respectability as a country physician, is called to a patient at lonely Hundreds Hall. Home to the Ayres family for over two centuries, the Georgian house, once impressive and handsome, is now in decline, its masonry crumbling, its gardens choked with weeds, the clock in its stable yard permanently fixed at twenty to nine. Its owners—mother, son, and daughter—are struggling to keep pace with a changing society, as well as with conflicts of their own. But are the Ayreses haunted by something more sinister than a dying way of life? Little does Dr. Faraday know how closely, and how terrifyingly, their story is about to become intimately entwined with his.

***Full review below.***

CONTENT WARNINGS: blood, injury to a child, animal abuse, arson, blood, self-harm, suicide

OVERVIEW: I'd never read anything by Waters when I picked this up, but she's one of those authors that has been on my list for ages. This novel was available at the library, and since I'm reading all kinds of eerie tales for October, this seemed as good as any place to start. Overall, I was pleasantly surprised by how much I enjoyed this book. While I can see some readers being frustrated by the pace, I personally think it was crafted quite masterfully, thus earning 4.5 stars from me.

WRITING: Waters's prose flows with such ease that I was able to sink into it quite quickly. There was just the right amount of telling versus showing, and I loved the post-war atmosphere combined with the crumbling Hundreds Hall. Some of my favorite parts were single descriptions of the peeling wallpaper, the outdated furniture, and the old fashioned manners and dress of the family. Combined with the general setting - with old families declining in prominence - it was the perfect mood for a Gothic lover like me.

PLOT: The plot of this book follows Dr. Faraday, a county doctor who befriends the inhabitants of Hundreds Hall. Hundreds is inhabited by four people: Mrs. Ayres, her two adult children (Caroline and Roderick), and their teenage maid (Betty). Faraday becomes unsettled when the members of the family start behaving strangely, and it isn't long until unexplained phenomena test the doctor's scientific rationality.

I really loved the Gothicness of this book. Waters brilliantly gives us a crumbling house full of supernatural weirdness and characters who feel out-of-time. I especially loved the focus on class and how the Ayres family seems torn between their past and present. All characters struggled with class in their own way, and it was fascinating to watch as things continued to deteriorate in the house.

CHARACTERS: Faraday, our protagonist and POV character, is fine as our guide through the story. His profession makes his comings and goings feel plausible, and though he can sometimes feel kind of blank, he also has anxieties and doubts that make him feel more fleshed out. He also feels somewhat complex in that he doesn't always behave well; I thought his pursuit of Caroline was a little aggressive, but that added to the general dis-ease of the atmosphere.

The Ayreses were also wonderfully complex and felt distinct from one another. I liked that Mrs. Ayres insisted on old fashioned manners and customs while her children struggled with the contemporary things. Rod's post-war trauma and stress from being the heir to the estate was palpable, and Caroline's ability to take care of everyone with a stiff upper lip was admirable if a little sad. Even Betty was endearing in her way, and I liked that she was loyal yet insistent that her experiences be taken seriously.

I also appreciated the side characters, such as Faraday's colleagues. They didn't distract from the main story, but they did make it feel as if the protagonists were part of a larger community- not just floating around on their own.

TL;DR: The Little Stranger was a delightful Gothic tale set in a post-war England, focusing on the crumbling of the old class system and the modern rise of the working class.

[cpulysses]

WE.. happy few oc infodump.!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!..

ok hi

i wanna like explain my we happy few oc i posted a bit ago!! in case anyones curious, but also because i have a big mouth and like to talk and go wamp wamp wamp (talk noise) with my mouth, some things r probably gonna be wrong with canon, I'm not too smart and I'm bad at interpreting things on my own, and none of my smart friends (all of my friends heart heart kiss kiss) are into we happy few, so they can't really interpret the stuff for me

ok with that out of the way lemme infodump!! lemme start speaking seriously now >:D (if you don't wanna read this all, basically my guy got Dr Faradays husband in bigggg trouble for being a downer and now lives with the guilt forever, eventually becoming one himself because of it)

As far as my knowledge goes (not very far), Dr. Faradays husband was also a scientist! A very smart one at that, though one day mysteriously disappeared without a trace, I think your supposed to think that he ended up creating some portal and went to a different dimension or something, but also I don't care and I wanna come up with a different reason instead (I also had like one other idea to make an oc off of but I didn't like it so)

My oc guys name is Javier, he's Mexican and Jewish and has been living in Wellington Wells his entire life. Ofc he faced lots of discrimination because.. yucky white people.. But after Joy was created and people started forgetting race or stopped paying attention to skin color (something mentioned canonly in one of Prudence's notes when talking about Victoria, 𝗗𝗮𝗺𝗽 𝗗𝗶𝗮𝗿𝘆), he was able to get a proper job as something called a Downer Detective.

A Downer Detective interrogates people who they think or straight up know are downers. Like people in the Garden District (although, they aren't too fond of the detectives), or people in Wellington Wells. The actual information he gets is completely private, and most of the time the people he interrogates in Wellington Wells stay private. As long as they're behaving and following the rules, he truly doesn't see an issue with letting a Downer roam free, when all they want is a normal life without all of the joy. Though sometimes, Bobbies will break into the interrogation room, taking whatever downer he's interrogating to the Doctors for them to do whatever.

Downers will sometimes give him,,, genuinely good points for being a downer. Some that he has no clue how to even argue or go against. These points have caused him to almost willingly become one himself, though each time he's chosen not to. One event changes this but thats later on

Now with that said, I can continue on with the other stuff. For as long as Javier can remember,,, which isn't too far back, him and Dr Faradays husband had been close, making Javier close with Dr Faraday herself. He was invested in their scientific research, learning some things himself about it, yet knew he could never properly make a living off of it, he wasn't as good as all of the other scientists. He noticed Dr Faradays husband was off one day, deciding to interrogate him "for fun," he found out that he had become a downer himself. he was in shock, but he promised to keep this secret, but after a few more questions, Bobbies slammed down his door and took Dr Faradays husband away. They disclosed nothing about his disappearance, and neither did Javier. Too worried Dr Faraday would be upset with him.

After this, he finally decided that he was going to stop taking joy himself. He had a bunch of reasons from other people, and now his own reason not to. Though because of his job and position, nobody suspected him. This event also caused him to constantly look nervous and on edge, living with the guilt of this, but because now he also looks this way when on joy, people don't suspect it either. Dr Faraday was obviously upset about her husband, and Javier pretended like he had known nothing about it.

Because he'll sometimes believe all of these reasons as to why people would become downers, he can't just tell Wellington Wells civilians (ik theyre called wellies but thats the goofiest name ever) these reasons. He'll sometimes post his interviews with Downers in newspapers or any other ways he can, though he... lies.. a lot about the conversations that actually happened. Making them out to be horrible people with no reason as to why they don't take their joy, never disclosing who he was talking to, but always making them out to be a monster, so people weren't motivated to stop.

hes also gay and polyamorous, the side character in the They Came From Below dlc that likes Roger likes him as well, and he always just has to,, awkwardly brush it off just bcs i think its funny and I cling to side characters and I was obsessed with her while making him

Idk if this makes any sense I'm horrible at explaining things but if you have questions.... ask!! i don't have my asks open atm but you can always just comment stuff.. lalala !!

[omgjasminesimone]

Specialties

Bryce x MC

A/N: A quick little ficlet since we got basically no Bryce today. I saw some post about how Bryce would totally be on tik tok, and I agree.  

...

Casey is taking a later lunch break than normal thanks to her patient’s very worried wife and her extensive list of WebMD questions. She looks around the cafeteria for her friends, but it looks like she missed them.

Her eyes light up when she catches sight of a familiar figure’s back. 

Bryce looks up from his chicken breast when a tray is put down on his table. He smiles when he sees it’s Casey. “Thank you for saving me from looking like a loser with no friends.” He says brightly, winking at her. 

“And thank you for your pudding!” Casey returns, swiping it off his tray. It comes free with the meal, but he never eats it. He’s on a no sugar diet.

At the next table over, the anesthesiologist residents laugh loudly while crowded around one of their phones. 

“I wonder what they’re looking at?” Casey wonders out loud, taking a bite of her tuna sandwich. 

“Tik tok videos. Trent, he’s the one with the red hair, apparently he’s tik tok famous.” Bryce replies. 

“Well, you would definitely know. You waste so much time on that stupid app.” 

“You only think it’s stupid because you don’t get it.” Bryce insists.

“I do get it. But it’s still stupid.” Casey retorts. “So, are you going to try to overtake him? Become the most famous Edenbrook....tik tock..er? Is that what they’re called?”

“Jesus Casey, you sound like you’re 100.” Bryce teases with a fond smile. “But nah. I do have the whole being ridiculously hot thing going for me, but I don’t have the time to seriously invest in it. Surgeons don’t get that sweet anesthesiology down time. You know Dr. Faraday actually gets to sit down after administering the anesthesia? My back was killing me after hour ten. I should have gone into anesthesiology.”

“If you thought the plastics rotation was boring, you’d be bored out of your mind as an anesthesiologist.” Casey insists.  

“There’s plenty of excitement. Like, if the patient wakes up in the middle of the surgery.” Bryce counters. 

“And have you ever seen that happen?” Casey queries. 

“Fortunately, no. Could you imagine if Raf had woken up when you were wrist deep in his intestines?”

Casey shudders at the memory. She definitely isn’t cut out for surgery. She takes another bite of her sandwich. “Did you seriously consider any other specialties?”

“Not really. Did you?” Bryce answers. 

“Dermatology. All through medical school, I thought that was what I’d do.” Casey replies. 

Bryce wrinkles his nose. “I cannot picture you as a dermatologist. Did you want to spend all day around angsty teens who swear as soon as their acne clears up their whole life is going to change?”

“Spoken like someone who clearly grew up with perfect skin.” Casey fires back.

Bryce smiles, shrugging. “Guilty as charged. And I’m assuming that was not the case for you?” 

“I had so much acne in 8th grade that my mom started buying me foundation to cover it up after multiple failed rounds of Accutane. Middle school sucks for everyone, but it’s especially brutal when they call you pizza face.”

“Ouch. So when did you have your glow up?” Bryce questions. 

“16. I had given up after multiple dermatologist visits and then my skin just suddenly decided to stop torturing me. And then all of a sudden guys wanted to date me, and my confidence grew, and I had friends. So the angsty teens aren’t wrong. It really can change your whole life.”

Bryce is silent for a moment as he absorbs that. “For the record, I’d still sleep with you even if you had a face full of adult acne.” 

Casey scoffs, laughing a little bit. “You’re so full of shit.”

“I mean it!” Bryce insists, dodging the balled up napkin she tosses at him. The pair eats in a comfortable silence for a few moments before Bryce speaks again.“I want to amend my answer. Now I remember that I did briefly consider another specialty.” 

“Which one?” Casey asks. 

“Gynecology. As you well know, I’m very good with my hands, so - hey! Where are you going? I listened to your story Casey!” Bryce calls after her teasingly.

[toooldforgermany]

okay, so i’m finally gonna make the post featuring my opinions about we happy few, compulsion games, and the final dlc. i am, overall, extremely disappointed in the final expansion and it sincerely breaks my heart to see it crumble apart. it’s such a good game and yet the last piece was so lackluster.

i don’t know how long this is gonna be, so i’ll put it under a read more.

tl;dr --  fuck the fandom. fuck compulsion. congrats alex epstein for trying to fucking save it.

i want to start out saying that i am so absolutely disappointed in the fandom for rushing the company to shove the final dlc out as soon as possible. it was forced, it was rushed, and it can really be seen in the gameplay elements of victoria’s dlc and it’s extremely disheartening. i saw it everywhere. i saw it on here which was irritating, but it was even more infuriating when i saw it on twitter. we happy few / compulsion game accounts would tweet about sales for their products or for merch and in the first ten responses there would be someone begging / asking for dlc. they could promo themselves with some witty slogan or some cool teaser from the game, and there would be someone asking about the dlc. that’s fucking bullshit, guys. the company began with a fucking platformer game and they jumped from that to a pseudo open-world survival game. they are a very, very small team that hardly anyone knows about. we cannot rush someone who’s extremely small in the first place, and are trying their absolute hardest to create something they never have before. especially after the public shat on their image anyway!

because of that, the gameplay came out so horrible. the final dlc was supposed to be implement playstyles for those who were both stealth friendly and brutal friendly. yet it was very stealth paced and hinted that stealth was the “better way to get things done,” especially since there wasn’t a marker anywhere for the player to go, and the maps were so confusing and/or so hard to follow. it was the first time that i, personally, put the game down for a week because i raged at it. i didn’t think i would have ever, personally, get so unbelievably pissed off at my favorite game of all time.

it became so disorienting, especially when you had to go back and forth. things are so similar in the maps too that trying to find landmarks are difficult. the only dinstinct ones are square in the middle of the maps usually, or the ropes that victoria could grip upon for her whip.

and i whole-heartedly believe that it was because the fandom rushed the ever-loving fuck out of it. nick’s playthrough was asounding! and though there was rushing from the fandom for his dlc as well, no one was shoving them as much as when people were antsy about victoria’s add-on. yet nick’s dlc was easy to follow, straight-forward, and extremely fun to play. i personally couldn’t put it down because it kept me intrigued. not to mention the hotel was different enough that i could find my way around.

now that i’ve got that rant out of the way, let me get to the story.

please don’t quote me on this because i don’t want to say it’s true, but i think that alex and lisa thought that the final dlc was going to be bullshit. because the story there is so victoria centered. yes, there were some lore involved -- we figured out who the looney in the tree house actually was and what he did before he went downer. we learned about the general before his life in wellington wells, and we learned a bit more about anton / tony. but other than that, there wasn’t much. however, in the others we learned so much more about the game in general.

in james and roger’s: where motilene came from, when the downfall of wellington wells began, why there aren’t any farmers, why dr. faraday was locked away in her room, and why james / roger disappear halfway through arthur’s playthrough.

in nick lightbearer’s: we learned who foggy jack really was, we learned more about the parade / how big it really is, we learned a bit more about arthur’s backstory, we learned why blackberry is short, we learned about a new drug.

there was so little lore that there was an achievement for finding lore. an achievement for finding something that alex has publicly stated on twitter that he would love to remain a mystery. he said himself that some of his favorite things about writing is leaving questions a mystery. what happened to percy remained a mystery, and how constable peters remembers everything / his backstory remained a mystery. and he said himself that he loved leaving it like that because it enhances the story.

the ending to it all was fantastic, though. even if we didn’t learn that much more about the game itself, i could tell that alex stuck to his writing style through and through. keeping everything realistic and levelled out -- leaving everything up in the air and having people make their own opinions of the characters. victoria was a huge villain, but she too has her own strengths as much as she does her flaws. and to see her crumble before her people was a beautiful bow on top of the overall fantastic game that was we happy few.

naila, one of the programmers for compulsion games, said that the team is finally moving on from it. and i fucking hope that the new fandom that grows from their future games doesn’t rush them or shit on them for taking their time like we happy few did. because they are a group of creative and amazing individuals! especially alex epstein, who i personally look up to, and to have that all wasted because they felt pressured to is ridiculous. and i am so disappointed that they felt the need to try and push stuff out because of fans.

in the end, despite all the shitty fucking gameplay, the story wasn’t too bad. as lackluster as the lore was. it definitely isn’t something i’d play again, but i am happy that i did at least once; i learned so much about a character who thought wasn’t going to get much more.

important mention: where the fuck was prudence? why didn’t she come back? why didn’t victoria mention her? most likely because it was rushed. because victoria loved her so much and yet she just vanished off the face of the earth.

[thelamppoststation]

Future’s Past by TheLampPost

In 2008, a year after James managed to get off that godforsaken rock, he receives a visit from a young woman with blue eyes and blonde hair. She hands him a locket and a letter, then demands answers to questions that he didn't even know existed. Post season 6 (Suliet) - This story is also partly set during the DHARMA days.

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

Chapter 3: Truth and Tea                  

       Aylesbury, England - April 2008      

The sound of a woodpecker hammering its beak against the side of a tree carried through the open window, intruding upon a stale conversation, that for the past half hour had been dominated by unimaginative splashes of silent exasperation. Dr. Stanhope asked a question, Theresa would answer, Stanhope would ask a follow-up question, or another question, Theresa would answer, etc…

"And how have you been sleeping lately?"

They'd been going back and forth like this for months now, getting positively nowhere. And while Abigail insisted that this was good for her, that she would soon come to realize that Stanhope was trying to help her understand her condition better; Theresa knew, with absolute certainty, that she wasn't going to find any of her answers here, at these weekly one hour therapy sessions on the couch of a clueless psychologist in Aylesbury.

"Theresa?"

"Sorry?" she blinked, and sat up straighter.

Stanhope narrowed her eyes, and crossed her legs; stretching the thin line around her mouth into a forced smile.

"How have you been sleeping lately?" she repeated.

"Better," Theresa shrugged and stared down at her nails; she really should stop biting them. "But I do sometimes still wake up in the middle of the night, unsure of where I am, or how I got there."

"Hmm."

"And I've been having dreams."

"Oh?" Stanhope looked up from her notebook, pen hovering in midair.

"They're silly, really," she smiled, and shrugged. "I try not to think of them too much."

Stanhope nodded, mirroring Theresa's smile; it looked even less genuine than the first one.

"I'm not sure if you're aware of this," her expression morphed into a pensive grimace. "But, research has shown that dreams help the unconscious mind to process that which we've not been able to properly address with our conscious mind. Maybe, yours are simply a manifestation of your subconscious, trying to make sense of a reality that you've only recently become a part of again."

"Maybe."

Theresa bit her lip, suppressing the urge to explain how Stanhope's interpretation of reality lay tied to personal experiences that resided in a linear sphere of her own existence; a stable constant in spacetime. In truth, it was all relative; a construct that Theresa had believed to be true until it collapsed in on itself some seven years ago. From then on she'd resided in a vast void as an onlooker, her body wasting away while her mind remained trapped in a narrative that promoted senseless discontinuity; she was three, and looking for her dolly; she was twenty, talking to her father; she was ten riding her new bike in the rain. While in between those realities her body remained tettered to a drifting soul in an undead state. Alive, but not living.

"Trees," she said.

"Trees?"

"My dreams," she began. "Palm trees, banana leaves, and sometimes images of cobwebs with black circles, but they're not really cobwebs. They look more like the ones that you see in comicbooks, or cartoons," she paused, her mind sifting through the pictures of her dreams. "A swan, an arrow, and a rabbit. I think. They appear in black and white flashes. And there are more, but it doesn't matter, because it always ends with him."

"Him?"

"Daniel."

Stanhope had been listening to her with increased interest; the explanation of the dream chained to a piercing expression; but now her pupils had dilated even further at the mention of Daniel.

"Daniel Faraday? The man who put you in a coma?"

"He didn't put me in a coma," Theresa snapped. "I put myself in a coma!"

"Theresa–"

"I wanted it; I asked him. I knew the risks involved; we'd tested the rats, and understood that the human mind could potentially respond differently," she inhaled sharply. "I did it to myself!"

Stanhope didn't move, merely looked at her, tainted compassion melting down the sides of her face.

"I'm sorry," she leaned forward, and put a hand on Theresa's knee. "I spoke too abruptly, I didn't mean to upset you."

Theresa pushed her hand away, unwilling to accept such a thoroughly educated apology; she already struggled enough with Stanhope's ambiguous nature as it was.

They'd been tiptoeing around the "event" since she started these sessions, and Stanhope's demeanor would invariably change whenever Theresa so much as mentioned Daniel's name; it unnerved her. Why was she so interested in him? What did she want?

On more than one occassion Theresa had laid the memories out in front of her like pieces of a puzzle that didn't quite fit into the picture of her past anymore, and in those instances it became obvious that it had always been and would always be Daniel who laid at the core of her trauma.

Was that it? Did Stanhope get off on that? She'd located the source, and now she wanted what? To excavate the neural pathways between her memories and emotions; tear down all of Theresa's defences, until she could stand it no more?

She wasn't ready to admit that she hadn't given up on him, yet. Nor ready to confess that his disappearance had ignited an overnight obsession. Every single day since she'd woken up from her coma, she'd been looking for him, and every single night he would appear to her. Speaking without words in dreams that proved to be impossible to decipher without properly working ears. But she was sure, so sure, that it meant something.

"He's still out there somewhere."

"He has been missing for over four years. Wouldn't it be better if you laid Daniel's memory to rest, and just moved on from all of this?"

Theresa snorted and crossed her arms in front of her chest; she almost sounded like Abigail. Move on, go out, meet other people; as though it was that easy to forget.

"Have you ever lost someone?"

"Yes, of course." Stanhope replied.

"Well then what if you knew for sure that they weren't lost, but still out there somewhere? Wouldn't you do anything you could to find them, and bring them back?"

Stanhope sighed and reclined in her chair.

"Theresa, there's a difference between rational dreams and irrational fantasies," she began. "Every 90 seconds someone on this planet goes missing. In the United Kingdom alone over 170,000 people are currently unaccounted for. Daniel has been gone for over four years; he disappeared along with an entire science team, and then some. I don't like to make a sport out of contradicting my patients, but it's my duty to make you understand that holding onto Daniel's memory makes it impossible for you to move on. From one scientist to another, you must understand that when that freighter lost contact with civilization in the middle of the South Pacific it wasn't because of a defective radio."

"They never found anything."

"They didn't find the Titanic until 1985, that doesn't mean it didn't sink before then," Stanhope uncrossed her legs, and capped her pen. "I understand why you're holding onto this; it's your lifeline. I see it all the time. But just because they weren't able to find that freighter doesn't mean it's still out there somewhere. You woke up months ago, it's time for you to let go."

Theresa clenched her jaw, shooting daggers at the woman across from her. In what world could this harpy ever have obtained a Master's degree in psychology from Yale university?

"With all due respect, I really don't give a damn about what you think happened. I know he's still out there," she rose from the couch; her nostrils flaring with contained anger. "And he's on that island!"

Stanhope stared, her jaw unhinged.

"Island?"

Theresa was done. Whatever Stanhope had to say, she wasn't interested in counterarguments any longer. At the end of the day she, herself, was the only person who understood what had happened, and maybe, just maybe, if she ever found him, Daniel would understand too.

"I think we're done here," she reached for the doorknob with a type of determination she hadn't felt in years.

"Goodbye, Dr. Stanhope."

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

       Aylesburg, England - April 2008      

Harper watched her storm out, the door slamming shut with a loud definitive bang. The silence that ensued reinserted itself with deafening determination, but for the woodpecker that continued to hammer out its frustrations into the tree just outside her office window; what she wouldn't give to be that bird right now.

She reached for her cellphone, dialed the number; the line almost immediatley connected.

Theresa Spencer had been one of her most frustrating cases to date. A stubborn young woman struggling with the after effects of temporal displacement syndrome. As an acting psychologist she had had trouble holding back. The way she'd treated the young woman had gone against everything that she had ever been taught in college: 'Never bait the patient. Respect their boundaries. Guide them through difficult experiences, never force their hand. Present tools, not the toolbox.'

She'd done none of that.

And she'd lied.

All in the name of–

"Yes?" the line clicked.

Harper rose from her chair, and looked out the window. She could see the woodpecker now; a bright red feathered crown bobbed up and down on its little head.

"I figured you'd want to know that she's ready."

"So soon?"

"It wasn't difficult; she did most of the work herself," Harper paused. "She still loves him, Eloise."

"Yes, that's what I counted on; I just didn't think she would start looking this soon. Are you sure?"

"She's been having dreams; she mentioned the island."

"Really?" Eloise paused, a static crack sounded on an exhalation.

"Are you sure you want to go through with this?"

"Are you second guessing my motives, dear?"

"Of course not," Harper moved away from the window. "I haven't forgotten what you did for me; I'm just not sure it's healthy to go through such lengths. Most people, they take a pottery class, start croquetching; they don't–"

"Look dear, I appreciate your professional opinion, but if I wanted therapeutic advice, I'd ask. In the meantime, just do as you're told."

Harper sighed. 'Do as you're told', that had worked out so splendidly in the past.

She put the phone on speaker, then walked around her desk and sat down. The screensaver on her Windows XP immediately gave way to a bland desktop with the standard green hillside/blue sky background shining brightly, almost happily, in her face. She hadn't bothered personalizing the image; she wasn't going to be in England for much longer anyway.

"I looked into the information that you gave me."

"And?"

"I found a woman," she double clicked on an untitled folder, pulling up the file.

"Her name is Jamie Rachel Spinoza; she lives in Miami. Her parents are Bob and Mary Spinoza; he's a math teacher at a local highschool; she's a dentist assistant. I couldn't find any connection to the island, they seemed chosen randomly by the mother. But, if what Richard told you is true, then this Jamie will be your best bet. Her birth-certificate looks… improvised," she double clicked on another file, and a fadded brownish yellow scan of a 1970s Florida birth-certificate popped into view. "It appears to have been signed by Richard himself," she snorted. "Or at least it looks like his handwriting."

"Excellent!"

"Eloise," Harper turned away from the screen and pensively stared at her phone. "You should know that she recently gave birth to a little baby boy; I couldn't find anything on the father. He doesn't seem to be in the picture; if anything were to happen to–"

"Do you have an address?"

Harper closed her eyes, and sucked in her lips.

Unrelentless.

"Yes, I'll mail it to you."

"What about the other one?"

She scrolled down to the last item in the folder, double clicked.

"Kai Nieves?"

"Did he check out?"

"According to Adam he's 'the real deal'."

"Good, has he been recruited, yet?"

"They're negotiating," Harper scrolled through a list of pictures. He was a handsome man, dark skinned, blue eyes; an unusual combination of tough and kind mixed together, but very appealing nonetheless. "Apparently, Mr. Nieves isn't exactly in the business of promoting his gifts. He wants to know what he's getting involved in, and he wants to talk to you."

"Hmm."

Harper could almost hear the wheels in Eloise's head turning as she considered the demand.

"I think he would be more inclinced to accept our offer if we tell him what happened to his parents," she suggested.

"No," Eloise retorted. "Send his details to me; I'll visit him first thing in the morning. Then book me a flight to London."

"You're coming here?"

"Of course," Eloise's voice pricked up. "If you say she's ready, then it's high time I meet my future daughter-in-law."

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

       3 days later      

       Aylesburg, England - April 2008      

"He's a nice lad; you should give him a call."

"Abigail," Theresa sighed and looked up. Not this again. "Will you please stop trying to set me up with your colleagues?"

"This is the last one, I swear; he's the one."

Theresa closed The Hidden Reality by Brian Greene; thumb inserted between the pages as she sat up straighter to read the name and number on the napkin.

"Jack Hoff?" she narrowed her eyes. "Are you serious?"

Abigail shrugged.

"He's a really nice guy."

"Abby, just say that name out loud, and tell me again how he's supposed to be the one."

Abigail huffed.

"It's not his fault his parents didn't put proper thought into naming him when he was born; He's really nice."

"I'm sure he is," she pulled her legs in, motioning for her sister to sit.

Abigail flopped down; her shoulders slumped as she eyed Theresa.

"I'm worried about you."

"I'm OK," Theresa assured.

"Are you?"

"Better than a year ago."

"I'm not talking about that."

"I know."

"Why can't you just let it go, Trish?"

"Why can't you just quit setting me up with middle-aged men, Abby?"

Abigail rolled her eyes, and shoved Theresa's feet off the couch; the book slipped from her lap and landed on the carpet with a tud.

"Oy!"

"Because, dear sister; the world doesn't solely revolve around Daniel Faraday and his silly experiments!" Abigail motioned to the book as to emphasize her point. "You spent six years in a coma, and the first thing you do after you wake up is call out for a deadbeat ex-boyfriend who abandoned you eons ago!"

"You don't know that he left of his own accord!"

Abilgail gawked, her eyes bulging like that of a toad choking on a fly.

"Do you ever hear yourself?! Not a single call or message in six years, and you're still defending this guy?!"

Theresa pulled her legs back up and rested her chin on her knees; her eyes fixed on a point somewhere beyond the diningroom chairs. The harsh consonants; the long drawn vowels; she was getting so tired of this eternal discussion that held neither answers nor solutions.

"Can we just not?" she heard herself say. "Just not today."

Besides, her mind hadn't exactly been on Daniel so much as it had been on other brainchilds and hypotheses. Two days ago, a sudden epiphany had her digging through files and old research that had lain stored away on Abigail's attic for some six odd years. Contrary to what her sister believed, Theresa hadn't just been Daniel's research assitant. She had had her own motives for wanting to work with him. Yes, he had been her boyfriend, but he had also been her colleague, and thanks to his invaluable insights he had gotten her involved in groundbreaking research that had held the potential to bring about an enormous paradigm shift. She owed him; she owed him so much more than Abigail would ever be willing to admit or accept.

"I guess it wouldn't hurt if we cut to the intermission early today," Abigail smirked, her expression softening.

Theresa snorted.

"The guy could bake one hell of a pancake, though; I'll give him that."

"Excuse me? What was that?" Theresa gasped, and put a demonstrative hand on her chest.

"Did Abigail Imelda Spencer just say something nice about Daniel Faraday?"

She reached for her sister's forehead.

"Dear! You're burning up. Maybe, you should…hold on," she theatrically pulled the napkin from her sister's chestpocket, and held it out in much the same manner Abigail had done moments before. "Maybe you should ring up Mr. Jack Hoff; see if he can help you flush that blush straight off your face," she winked.

"Oh, will just shu–"

The doorbell cut straight through their living room banter; both sisters simultaneously looked up.

Theresa frowned.

"You expecting someone?"

"No."

"I swear," Theresa began. "If this is one of your set ups come to take me out on a date; you're definitely crossing a sacred line, my precious sister."

Abigail rolled her eyes, and stood up.

"Oh, why don't you just stuff that napkin down your throat already?" she countered, before rounding the corner, down the hallway.

Theresa laughed, her attention momentarily drawn to the number underneath the name; even that seemed like a joke: +441296 366613. She flung it away, symbolically getting rid of Mr. Hoff and his digits, but as she watched the napkin flutter to the ground, she couldn't help but wonder what a date with a man called Jack Hoff would be like; maybe, he preffered to be called Jim. She would.

"Uh, Trish," Abigail reappeared, her expression grave as she stepped back into the living room.

"There's someone here for you, but I don't think–"

"Huh?" Theresa stood and crossed the room. "Who is it?"

Abigail caught her arm, pulling her backwards before she could peep around the corner.

"I'm not sure if you should."

"What are you on about?" she narrowed her eyes, twisting her neck in an impossible angle to catch a better glimpse.

"Maybe we should continue this discussion inside? It's raining cats and dogs out here."

Theresa's eyes widened; Abigail scowled.

"Mrs. Hawking?"

She pushed past Abigail, her jaw unhinged as she faced the woman in the doorway.

"Please, Eloise, dear. Mrs. Hawking was my mother's name."

Eloise stepped across the threshold, looking for all the world like Mary Poppins blown in on a regular Eastern wind as she surreptitiously closed her umbrella with an animated flourish. Abigail remained stoic, arms crossed in front of her chest, while Theresa felt an almost irrepressible urge to climb up on the rooftop to scrutinize the current position of the weather van, just to make sure.

"Forgot your broom, I see."

"Abigail," Eloise inclined her head. "It's nice to see you again."

"Nice?!

Theresa placed a hand on Abigail's shoulder, rage burning a metaphysical hole through the reality of their current situation. There was only one person her sister desired to manually vivisect more than Daniel, and neither of them ever expected that scenario coming to pass. Apparently, Abigail had just won Satan's lottery.

"Just let me handle this," Theresa whispered; Abigail continued to scowl, but refrained from speaking her mind further.

"Why are you here?" Theresa turned to Eloise.

The old woman took a step closer, the light illuminating her aging face. She appeared much older than the last time they'd seen each other. But then, it had been over a decade ago since they'd last spoken.

"I think it's time we talk."

"Talk?! I've been trying to contact you for the past year; my sister tells me you ignored her calls and messages for over five! Honestly, I'm not quite sure whether to let Abby have a go at you, or if I should just throw you out myself!"

"Oh please, Trish," Abigail gritted. "Just give me five minutes with her."

"Yes, an unfortunate lapse in judgment on my part; I assure you, it won't happen again."

Abigail snorted loudly; Theresa remained apathetic.

"No, it won't," she said. "It was nice of you to stop by, Eloise; but whatever you've got to say, I'm not interested anymore."

"My dear, I think you would want to hear what I've got to say."

"Not interested," she turned around, guiding a fuming Abigail back to the living room.

"Don't you want to know what happened to Daniel?"

She stopped, her back straight as an arrow, nerves wound tightly around an invisible coil of her own making.

"No, no, no," Abigail shook her head. "Don't even think about it, Trish!"

But she was already thinking about it. In reality, she had nothing to go on; she'd already dug up everything there was on the Kahana, even secretly visited its last known location, followed coordinates that had left her staring into the deep blue of a vast ocean that held onto whispered secrets as though bound by an unbreakable vow. It had ignored her, stared back at her and challenged her sanity. Eloise was the only person left alive who could possible shed some light on the unsolvable mystery of Daniel's disappearance.

"Abby, could you please make us some tea?"

"What?!"

Theresa looked back at Eloise, who had taken the liberty of unbuttoning her coat; the umbrella placed against the door, dripping water onto the fading words of the "welcome home" doormat.

"Are you off your rocker?"

Theresa stepped closer to her sister, voice dropping to a whisper.

"I need to know."

"No, I won't stand for this," Abigail countered, putting her hands in her sides. "It stops here, Trish."

"Why are you so hell bend on keeping me from finding out the truth?"

"The truth?! This is not about any truth, and you know it."

"Last time I checked, it wasn't you in that coma, Abby; it happened to me!"

Abigail snorted.

"'D'you really believe that?"

Theresa shrugged; her shoulders slumped. Why couldn't her sister understand? She was a scientist, a believer of facts and a seeker of truth, always on the side of the undiscovered. An inherent curiosity creature lived inside her brain, housed in her skull, fed on her neurons, and for months now it had been aided by a second creature that was slowly drilling holes into her heart, scarring the outer reaches of her soul. It was dark there, cold.

Truth? It had never just been about the how; it had always been about the why.

"I have so many questions, and nobody has been able to give me any answers! Why can't you understand that?"

Abigail scoffed.

"Why can't you understand that I'm right here? Right now. Why do you insist on chasing ghosts; aren't the living enough?"

Theresa stared, her stomach in knots. It wasn't fair; it wasn't true.

"I'm sorry you feel that way, Abby."

Abigail let out a low frustrated growl, clenching her fists together in futile surrender.

"Yeah, me too," she said, then thundered down the hallway, shoving hard past Eloise as she reached for her coat.

"Good luck with this hag," she threw over her shoulder, leaving the which unsettled.

The loud bang of the door shutting closed momentarily shocked through the corridor, shaking the furniture before it resettled.

Theresa sighed.

"Tea?"

"Please."

With a heavy heart she made for the kitchen, uncaring of Eloise following. These fights had been getting more and more intense of late. Last week she'd even scanned open ads online for available flats in the surrounding area. It would break Abigail's heart if she moved out, but she simply couldn't take it anymore.

"This had better be worth my time, Eloise."

The old woman had followed her into the kitchen, and sat down at the table; Theresa reached for the kettle.

"Daniel's dead," Eloise said.

If there was a way to get straight to the point, then surely Eloise Hawking had just nailed it. Theresa whirled around; the kettle fell in the sink, water clattering off of it.

"He died on an island in the South Pacific Ocean in late 1977."

"1977?"

"I buried him myself."

"What?!"

"I shot my son in 1977," Eloise said it with such cold conviction it made it hard for Theresa to sympathize. Not a tear or tremor burst through her poised expression, stoic figure; it was like looking at a robot talking about murders yet committed.

Theresa closed the tap, leaned her palms on the counter; her back curving under the weight of a thousand questions. She asked only one:

"You're sure about this?"

"Positive."

She turned around; the making of tea; the cooking of water, all but forgotten.

"He did it then."

"If you're referring to his experiments, breaking through the barriers of space time," Eloise rolled her eyes, air quoting the words. "Then, yes, and no, I suppose."

Theresa slowly lowered herself into the chair on the opposite side of the table, her focus never having been sharper.

"What do you mean?"

"He traveled through time, but he wasn't the one who made it happen."

Over the next hour Eloise spoke of events that started with a plane crash on a beach in 2004, and ended with a riffle deep in the woods in 1977. All through her monologue Theresa refrained from asking questions. Instead, she sat with her hands crossed in her lap, her heart slamming against her chest as the old woman revealed all that Theresa ever wanted and needed to know. Daniel had lived and died, becoming part of an immense paradox that defied all reality known to mankind.

It occurred to her that any other person would have referred Eloise to the closest mental institution in the Aylesburg, but not her. For she knew that it was possible. They'd researched the brain's ability to travel; why not the whole body?

"Why do I get the sense that you're not just here to tell me that Daniel's gone?" Theresa said after Eloise had finished.

"Because he's not."

Theresa frowned.

"You just told me your past self killed your future son; how he is not gone?"

Eloise smiled and reached for her purse, pulling from it a leather-bound journal, Daniel's journal.

"I want you to take a look at this, and ring me once you've made up your mind."

She placed a card on the table, a foreign number written on it in black ink.

She stood.

"It's my personal number; I will not ignore you this time."

She placed a hand on top of Theresa's.

"What do you want me to make up my mind about?" Theresa asked.

"Thank you for the tea," she said by way of reply, then she walked out of the kitchen, down the hall, and blew out of the house on a Western wind.

The kettle, wet from water, untouched on its side in the sink.

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

A/N: I know this chapter was way different! But it's all part of the story, it will make sense later on! I put some nice Easter eggs in this one, though. I'm curious to see if you guys can find and unwrap them! Let me know! I'm super curious!

Again, thank you all so much for the comments and warm messages on the previous chapter. It blows my mind that even one person would read this story, let alone several! Words really can't express how much I appreciate it.

And because I'm so grateful, I'll reveal to you that the next chapter will be set in Dharma Town again, and will include some much needed Suliet!

Thanks again! And hopefully I'll see you in the next chapter ;)

FYI: all of the characters who appeared in this chapter were on the show at some point or another. None of them were fabricated by me, but I did take some liberties with them, and expanded upon their respective story lines.

[imjustthemechanic]

Our Own Demons

Part 1/? - A Bolt from the Blue Part 2/? - A Different World Part 3/? - Stark At Home Part 4/? - Pot Roast Night Part 5/? - Space-Pie Continuum Part 6/? - Energy Signature Part 7/? - Miss Potts Part 8/? - Bot from Beyond Part 9/? - Even the Odds Part 10/? - Miss Potts Arrives Part 11/? - Truth Hurts Part 12/? - The Third Reality Part 13/? - Thor and Odinson Part 14/? - The Tesseract Platform

What if Tony Stark really were the villain of the Marvel universe?  How would that work?  Tony himself is about to find out, as he battles his inner demons (and some outer ones, too) across a multiverse of infinite possibilities.

The Thor Tony knew had an annoying habit of summoning Bifrosts willy-nilly, with no regard for things like whether the lawn had just been mowed – so he was pleased to see this Thor do it from the top level of a parking garage, where the only thing the touchdown would scorch was the asphalt.  With the Odinson thus on his way, the rest of them boarded a chartered jet to Washington, where Hill said SHIELD had something that could help them. Tony just hoped that wouldn’t be when this reality’s HYDRA infestation decided to make itself known because that would just be ridiculously inconvenient.

Dr. Ross stayed in New York, apparently having some kind of prior commitment there, but Miss Potts came with them, and so did Jane Foster. She sat across from Tony and his double, chattering happily with the hammer resting on the seat beside her.

“The prevailing theory,” she said, “is that a new reality is created every time a decision is made.  Not a human decision, of course, we’re not that important on a quantum level.  But every time a particle has to choose a spin state, for example, one universe branches off where it goes left and one where it goes right.  The vast majority are nearly identical to their neighbours, because they’re separated by only one particle.”

“I think we’re a few particles apart,” said Tony.

“He comes from a world where Stark Industries is still a thing,” his double said.

“That’s gotta take several particles at least,” Tony agreed.  “There’s other differences, too.  Dr. Ross’ old boyfriend is still alive, and she doesn’t do the Hulk thing.”  He paused. “And Thor and Odinson are the same person.  How did that happen, by the way?”  Tony nodded at Mjolnir.

Foster glanced at it.  “I… I don’t know.  I just picked it up,” she said.  “When the hammer fell in New Mexico, Odinson went into the SHIELD compound to get it, and I went with him because they’d impounded my research and I wanted it back. He tried to lift it and couldn’t, and I really don’t know what made me think it would be a good idea to try, but I did, and I just picked it up.”  She lifted it in one hand.  “It feels feather-light to me, but it actually weighs nineteen point one-eight kilograms.  I weighed it.”

“I see.”  Tony smiled.  He wondered how Thor back home would have taken it.  Probably very well, really – he adored Dr. Foster.  “Any theories how that works?”

“None,” she sighed, setting it down again.  “I mean, I understand that on some level the hammer itself is intelligent and able to judge who is worthy, but I don’t know how you qualify worthiness.  Odinson says it’s because I’m completely unselfish – all I want is to gain knowledge and share it with others.  But does that affect my brain waves or something?  What does that psychological quality confer on me as a physical quantity that Mjolnir can read?  What’s so funny?” she asked, as she noticed Tony doing his best not to giggle.

“Sorry,” he said.  “I just… for all you’re totally different, you’re also exactly the same as the Jane Foster in my reality.  It’s great.”  Tony looked at his counterpart, but found the other man staring out the window, drumming his fingers impatiently on the arm of his seat.

“Well, maybe we are just a few particles different, then,” Foster said.

A bit later, she got up to use the washroom and left Mjolnir lying in the aisle seat.  Tony reached over and grabbed the leather strap on the handle, but when he gave it an experimental tug, it wouldn’t move.  It was as if it were part of the structure of the plane.

“The airplane seems to lift it okay,” Tony observed, settling back in his seat.  “You think the plane’s worthy?”

His double did not answer.

“I’m leaving,” Tony reminded him.  “Soon I’ll be gone and will never darken the door of your reality again.”  Was the other still annoyed about what he’d said that morning, or the simple fact that Tony had slept in closer proximity to Miss Potts than he had?

“Beth texted me,” said the other.  “She wanted to know if I was okay, and then she asked if you were going to be okay and how long you’d be in town for.”

“She and I had a couple of dates in my universe,” said Tony.  “Didn’t work out for us, but maybe you’ll have better…”

“Just stop,” the other told him.  “You’ve done enough!  If you say one more word I’m gonna get up and slug you.”

When it came to social interactions, Tony could be just a bit denser than a self-proclaimed genius really ought to, but that got through.  He shut up.

They landed at Dulles, and from there drove to a warehouse in Alexandria, where SHIELD kept what Hill described as ‘odds and ends’. She let them in with a keypad, and consulted a directory before escorting them into an elevator to go down.

“What are we looking for?” Tony asked.

Hill hesitated.  “So Loki came to Earth in your reality, too?” she asked.

“Yes,” said Tony.  “So he must have had a gateway to enter.  I got that when I had JARVIS take a look at SHIELD’s computers – they’d built this platform to try opening a wormhole, but could never get it to work until Loki can through, because there was nobody at the other end.”

His counterpart brightened.  “But we’ve got a platform here, and they’ll have one in his reality, so as long as we can find a third one we can transfer him home!”

“Every so often I remember why Ginny keeps you,” said Hill with a nod.  “Do you know what they did with it?” she asked Tony.

“No, but SHIELD never gets rid of anything,” Tony said.

“Even when we should,” Hill sighed.  “Once we got rid of Loki we cleaned it up, put it in storage, and never touched it again.  It’s still here, just waiting for something useful to do with it.”

“Then I hope the one in my world is, too,” said Tony. He wondered if that were what had given his double in the unknown third universe the idea for all of this… had he been allowed to do more playing with SHIELD’s toys, and stumbled across the secret to interdimensional travel?  And having done that… what had he decided to do with it?

What would Tony do if he discovered an alternate reality on his own?  Besides the scientific equivalent of poking it with a stick to see if it twitched, he couldn’t imagine.  He certainly couldn’t think of anything he would go looking for there – he might go investigate his alternate self, just to see what the guy was u p to, but why would he kick that other Tony out of his reality?  Had that really been an accident?

The only idea he could come back to was that the third guy’s universe had somehow gone all wrong and he’d hoped to make a new start somewhere else.  Even then, it didn’t seem like a Ton thing to do.  When Tony found himself having to rebuild his life after Afghanistan, he’d done so on a foundation of fixing his mistakes.  Surely any hypothetical other would feel he owed it to his own reality to do the same, rather than just jumping ship.  Unless there were so little left that it didn’t matter… but what could possibly cause something like that?

He knew he wouldn’t like finding out.

They found the wormhole platform in a back corner of the warehouse with boxes piled on top of it.  It didn’t look particularly secure to Tony, but Hill went and checked a panel in the wall, then nodded and turned to talk to the group.

“This is normally guarded by an infra-red laser grid,” she explained, and pointed at a bank of windows overhead.  “It’ll fire stun wires at you and then summon a dozen or so agents from the guard houses upstairs and on both sides.  Are you absolutely confident they’ll know who you are?”

“Yes,” said Tony.  “And based on what was happening in my reality when I left, I don’t even know if they’ll still be at their posts.”

His double pulled one of the boxes off the pile and peeked into it – it was, for whatever reason, full of blue and white 80’s kitchenware – then set it aside on the floor and looked the platform over.  “That’s it?” he asked.

He had a point.  It wasn’t a terribly impressive-looking thing.  The device was quite literally a platform, with steps up to it and conduits around the edge. The only high-tech bit was the set of connectors designed to draw on the tesseract.  Rather than a physical Faraday cage like the mesh in the suits, the activated platform would surround itself in an electromagnetic field that behaved the same way, distributing the energy to create a contained wormhole. It didn’t help that the equipment was scorched and slightly melted from the sheer quantity of power that had been forced through it by Loki.  The demigod’s shadow was literally burned into the platform, and Tony wasn’t sure he liked the idea of standing in those footsteps.

“We’ll have to apply the tesseract in two bursts with different resonant frequencies,” Foster said.  “That’ll put you in Reality D, then send you on to A, without disturbing the robot-builders in C.  Theoretically.”

“Theoretically.”  Miss Potts folded her arms over her chest and frowned, clearly not liking the word much. “What happens practically if it doesn’t work?  Does Arno end up in Reality C with his enemies?  Are more of those robots going to come through?”

“I don’t know,” Tony admitted, then had to add, “I already told you, my name’s not Arno.”

“Yeah, but we already have a Tony,” she pointed out.

Foster hefted Mjolnir, and her clothes transformed back into Asgardian armor, lightning briefly crackling over her.  “I’ll get the robot,” she promised, voice echoing.

“What about you?” Miss Potts asked Tony.

“I’ll improvise,” he said.  “I’m good at it.”

She was still unhappy.  “I don’t want you to have come all this way just to get hurt on your own doorstep,” she said.  “After all, somewhere out there is another one of me who’s depending on you.”  She smiled fondly, and Tony returned the expression without even thinking about it.  He’d heard that note in Pepper’s voice before.  That was the way she sometimes talked about him when she didn’t know he was listening.

“She’ll be glad to have me back safe and sound,” Tony assured her.  “And if I’m not, I’m sure she can come to my rescue.”  She’d done it before, after all – Pepper had saved him from Stane, she’d gotten Hammer locked up, she’d kicked Killian’s ass… no wonder Rescue was the name of her superhero alter-ego.  It was perfect for her.

“Good to know she’s on top of things,” said Miss Potts with a nod.

Tony’s instincts told him to kiss her, but he didn’t – she wasn’t his Pepper, and her Tony was standing just a few yards away, moving boxes with a sullen expression on his face.  Tony had to shake his head a little when he saw the guy.  Hopefully someday he’d grow a spine and just kiss her on a rooftop as was meant to be.

They cleared the platform, and then Foster, still in her guise as Thor, stood on top of it and summoned the Bifrost.  It touched down in a roar of psychedelic colours, overlaying Loki’s scorched footprints with its own intricate patterns.  There was the Odinson, holding an object that looked like a smaller version of the crystal tube Thor and Loki had taken the tesseract home in.  This had a small crystal in the middle, pulsing with blue light.

“Oh, good,” said Foster.  “I’ll have to thank him next time I drop in.”

“I’ve already done so myself,” Odinson replied, “but you know he likes to see you.”

Tony and his counterpart took the container and carefully connected it to the wormhole platform, with a bare minimum of speaking to each other.  It was obvious that the other was still jealous, and Tony found himself very troubled by that idea.  He was used to people telling him they were jealous of his lifestyle, of his money, his brains, and his superhero hobby – but they didn’t know any better.  They didn’t know what each of those things had cost him.  The idea that another one of him would feel the same way seemed all wrong.

So as they finished up, Tony brushed off his hands on his pants and told his double, “you’re a lucky guy, you know.”

The other glared at him.  “Now you’re patronizing me.”

“No, I’m not,” Tony said.  “You might not have some of the stuff I do, but you also don’t have to live with some of the things I’ve done.”

“And you don’t know a damned thing about what I’ve done,” the other said.

[thecomicsnexus]

Batman #312-313. June-July, 1979. By Len Wein, Walt Simonson, Dick Giordano, Irv Novick and Frank MacLaughlin.

The Calendar Man is back in Gotham and committing one grand robbery a day for a week, with a new costume to symbolize what mythical god or planet for which the particular day of the week was named. On Monday, he dresses in a moonman outfit and steals handfuls of postage stamps cancelled by astronauts on the moon. On Tuesday, as Tiw, god of war, he robs Ulysses S. Grant's Civil War medals from a military museum. On Wednesday he robs another museum as Woden (or Odin), riding an eight-wheeled cycle to symbolize Woden's eight-legged steed Sleipnir, and uses a laser-blast lens over one eye to blast Batman's Whirly-Bat out of the sky. On Thursday, dressed as Thor, the Calendar Man steals a painting entitled The Storm King and damages Batman's inner ear with a sonic "thunder" blast. As it is, the only way that Batman survives this encounter is that the police were approaching before Calendar Man can finish him off and is forced to flee

While Batman rests up as per doctor's orders firmly enforced by Alfred, the Calendar Man spends Friday, named for the wedding-goddess Frigga, robbing a wedding reception, and steals the money from an ecology benefit on Saturday, dressed as Saturn, god of agriculture. On Sunday, a day of rest, the Calendar Man plans to take the Sun Express and escape with his loot, but Batman has anticipated his move and captures his foe at the railroad terminal.

Unaware to the public during Calendar Man's crimes, intruders break into a defense installation, gas the on-duty personnel unconscious, and take a binary code for America's new defense system from a computer. On Sunday night, the gang demands $22,000,000 for its return, and sends a similar offer to the enemy governments. The double-cross is suited to the nature of the gang's leader, Two-Face.

Specs, who stole the binary defense code for Two-Face, calls the police to try to reveal its hiding place after discovering that Two-Face has offered to sell it to the Soviets. But Two-Face cuts off the call, flips his coin, sees the bad side has come up, and has his men shoot Specs dead with a shot to his heart and a shot to his head.

Meanwhile, Bruce Wayne makes a donation at the the Second Annual Children's Telethon, after which he invites Selina Kyle to dinner in a fancy restaurant. During the evening, Selina shows true intentions of forgetting her life as Catwoman and Bruce is willing to help her, starting a romantic relationship between the two. After the dinner, Bruce is summoned as Batman by Commissioner Gordon to help investigate Specs's murder. Batman pegs it as Two-Face's work and finds his foe and his two-man gang lodged, logically enough, at Apartment 2-B, 222 Second Street. He plows into the gang, but is interrupted by the arrival of government agent King Faraday, who tries to arrest everyone. Two-Face uses the opportunity to escape.

Faraday warns Batman that he is prepared to kill Two-Face and advises him to stay out of the case, but Batman says that he owes it to Harvey Dent's memory to try and return him safely to Arkham Asylum and Faraday grudgingly accepts Batman's presence. Two-Face, Batman, and Faraday all deduce that Specs had hidden the code in an envelope inside the huge piggy bank at the Second Children's Telethon.

Two-Face steals the code envelope and gets away, as Batman prevents Faraday from shooting the villain. The two argue again over tactics, but Faraday still vows to kill Two-Face if necessary and Batman comes along to make sure he does not.

From DC Wikia

First of all, I know Calendar Man’s costume is impractical, but I really like it.

It is also good to get some general knowledge from comic-books (in this case, where the name of the days of the week come from, which is also fascinating as it got translated into spanish and italian, two languages that kept the meaning of those names, but with different gods).

What I really enjoyed from the calendar man story, was the sneaky plot twist about Two-Face. It was pretty obvious that it wasn’t part of Calendar Man’s plan, but I didn’t realize it until the end of the comic. So, congrats to the artists involved.

On the second issue we have the first appearance of Timothy Fox. Nowadays, if I tell you Lucius Fox has a son, you will say “yeah, Luke”. But that wasn’t the case pre-crisis. My guess would be, they didn’t want to have another Tim in the Bat-Family.

A few other observations, this is clearly the Batman run that influenced Tom King. Not only for the Catwoman thread, but for other things that will happen in the following issues.

Another interesting thing about this issue,  Dr. Douglas Dundee was the doctor that brought Bruce into the world, and he knows he is Batman, so he was a recurring character in Batman (and the Outsiders). With the introduction of Leslie Tompkins, the character never made it to continuity post-crisis.

I give these issues a score of 7.75.

[ohifonlyx33]

ritalara

replied to your post

“3x17 rambling mostly about the KISS”

@weareagentsofnothing @ohifonlyx33 we're basically out here writing a collective academic dissertation on this show and I couldnt be more proud

fun fact, a while back I wanted to go through each season and “outline” everything we know about fitzsimmons in a really cohesive way that would give a timeline and show their progression, starting with what we know about how they met and including reasonable assumptions and headcanons and interpretations. I even started a draft. But I realized it would be waaaaay too hard here’s basically what I got:

I. Pre-Season 1     A. Pre-Established Character and Friendship Facts          1. Regarding Jemma              - Miserable as an unborn child, according to mother (1x22)              - Had scoliosis as a child, corrected by surgery (3x05)              - Was taught about the stars by her father (3x05)              - Had two Ph.D’s and a million questions at age 17 (2x03)              - Initially believed Fitz to be a rival who hated her. (1x12)              - Had male attention, but only found Fitz interesting (1x12)              - Believed Fitz was handsome, though pasty (3x05)              - Eager to go into field (1x06)          2. Regarding Fitz              - Born 23 days before Jemma Simmons (1x12)              - Only child, primarily raised by single mother (1x18)              - Extreme social anxiety and awkward in primary school (4x04)              - Emotionally, possibly physically, abusive, drunkard father called Fitz                      stupid, left when he was 10 (4x12, 4x19)              - Shy, loner, quiet, pasty, initially hated the Academy (1x12, 3x07)                - Thought he’d get on with Jemma, but was too shy to say so (1x12)              - Reluctant to go in to the field (1x06)          3. Regarding Their Pre-Field Relationship              - Paired in chem lab, found they were smarter together (1x12)              - Studied under Dr. Hall, Prof. Vaughn, and Weaver (1x02, 1x03, 1x12)              - Involved in pranks at the Academy, with Sally Webber (1x09)              - Established an alliterative, color-based bagging system (3x04)              - Wild stories involving a Faraday cup and a cat’s liver (1x06, 1x07)              - Neither one passed their field exams (1x01, 1x06)              - Jemma dated someone named Milton whom Fitz hated (3x19)              - Jemma studied more and was named Top of the Class (3x19)               - Jemma never technically considered Fitz more than a friend (2x09)              - The idea of a romantic relationship never occurred to Fitz (3x08)      B. Character and Relationship Headcanons With Reasonable Support          1. They watch Doctor Who together (1x07, 1x09, 1x19, 5x07)          2. Fitz mimics Jemma’s voice when perturbed (1x06)          3. Fitz hates being called Leo. Jemma only does it when mad (2x15)      C. Tropes Employed (Established before Season 1)          1. Just Friends          2. The Syndividual          3. Birds of a Feather             4. Child/Teen Prodigy          5. Finishing Each Others’ Sentences 

[conspiracieys-archive]

List all the things you’re currently working on in as much or little detail as you’d like, then tag some friends to see what they’re working on. This can be writing, art, vids, gifsets, whatever.

GASP. its the THING?! thank u so much wtf. i have.. a lot of mag7 wips

Mag7 FO4 AU, Part 8: haven’t really decided what this part’s gonna be abt in detail. cause like, in part 6 i promised parts 7 and 8 would be abt Billy and RH, but part 7 is more just abt Billy & his suppressed memories... i kinda want 8 to be about Billy as R6-25 travelling thru the ‘Wealth, going thru the RR and BOS shit and meeting Goody, but... i got this idea in my head abt R6′s initial introduction 2 the ‘Wealth where he’s scared and alone and then Courser X7-33 finds him and ... feels bad??? bc wouldnt it be something if Billy’s escape was the trigger for Red Harvest’s?

Mag7... Naruto AU?!: so u know those naruto si/oc rebirth fics.. where the character dies and is reborn (usually into Sakura?) in the Naruto universe...? this but Sam dies and is reborn into Sasuke (ive read 2 fics like this and loved one of them and was confused by the other). but usually its OCs/SIs so its easier 2 put it in a particular category but this one gives me all kinds of trouble from writing to posting bc its Sam-centric as he copes in the Naruto world n stuff so its heavier in Naruto elements than mag7 elements.

RedSam Witches AU: i actually have this entire thing planned out. theres like 7 chapters + an epilogue. the matter is... writing it? i have motivation but u know when the words just won’t work? yeah. it’s a spin on a completely different au and, w/ Erin’s help, a lot of the backstories and small details r built up and planned out so it could be its own fic with another set of Slice of Life fics (bc i find Slice of Life so relaxing to work on)

Lil’ Dom, CH6: speaking of slice of life. lil’ dom is my only published gta v fic and its centered around Franklin accidentally becoming Dom Beasley Jr’s dad bc Senior forged Frank’s signature on his will and then committed suicide yanno. but ch6 is.. the Ominous Dr’s visit and frankly i havent been to a doctor in a rly long time so its a lil bit of a struggle to write? but i think after i get all the Big Parenting Chapters done, itll be easier 2 write (big parenting chapters means doctors visits, school enrolling, initial dentist visit (and if i get the first dr visit done, then alls left will b the dentist but Franklin seems like he would put that off bc HE needs to go to the dentist too)) idk this is one of the most calming fics ive ever written and i never... work on it... but i should....

FaraSamQuez 6+1: started a Faraday/Sam/Vasquez loosely based in canon 6+1 fic. (3 times Faraday was jealous of Vasquez interacting with Sam, 3 times Vasquez was jealous of Faraday interacting with Sam, and one time Sam was like ‘why are you both idiots’). its an Everyone Lives/No One Dies ending tho so thats nice

DNA P3: the... 3rd installment in my... Nora/Virgil porn series... after a lot of waffling over what kinks it should be about, i picked one so...

my dark skysolo au: ever wip and ever on going bc sometimes i get New Ideas for it

A Mysterious NoraVirgil fic: ????? i want to fuck super mutants but only the civil ones and theres so few civil mutants. anyway this one would be like 2 or 3 chapters and it would be exploring the affects the Fog has on mutants (inspired by how Erickson reacted 2 the Fog and Vim! when him and his group settled in the Vim! factory) but... yanno... lots of smut bc... god im... i just. Yeah.

a Mysterious EricksonNora fic: i say mysterious but honestly its just gonna be Erickson rawing tf out of Nora in the middle of the Island at like 3am when all the dogs r asleep. dogs asleep, fuck Nora.

VirgilNoraErickson fic: would technically take place in the DNA Universe after Virgil is human. n he decides to go w Nora to Far Harbor (probably w Preston OR Danse but they stay behind when Nora is like ‘i heard abt this Super Mutant in the Island’ and they side eye Virgil and theyre like ‘yeah take him and ur guns’ and thats it (but if Deacon was there he would go ;))) anyway its very... look i just cant write abt Nora/Super Mutant without it being porn bc im an awful human being i guess. but anyway its gonna primarily be Nora fucking Erickson, a mutant, while her beautiful handsome ex-mutant boyfriend jacks it. im just slam dunking all my kinks into Nora and Virgil they make it easy

i think someone requested a NoraRichter sequel months ago?: so that might happen

ok thats enough from me. i probly have more but these r the ones... that i know i need to/want to work on. (except the naruto au. i just want to talk about it with some1 but alas.)

tagging: @fadinglight123 and... honestly idk which ones of u are writers. but i sure as shit know Erin has a Lot of WIPs to talk about ;) so if u wanna do this lmk and i’ll add u to this tag list??