#is like one of my worst nightmares come to life - it being a literal asylum but ngl every part of my being is like god fuck this

[nyhti]

Can I ask for Jeremiah Arkham (my beloved!) headcanons? (If you are so inclined)

TBH your blog is the thing that has made me stan these old men 🤧😰

Haha. Okay. Sorry this took literally like a month and a half lol. It is what it is. I'm glad my blog has been able to make people care about characters that imo don't get enough love <333 And I'm flattered people want to hear my takes on them!

So, yeah, I figured I could write about Jeremiah's trauma, but first let's clear some things up, or otherwise this might be a confusing essay.

Firstly, my Jerry takes only from Alan Grant's Jerry. I don't like how anyone else wrote him. Neither do I really like how even Grant started writing him later on. Jerry has a surprisingly good character arc from The Last Arkham (Batman: Shadow of the Bat #1-4 (1992)) to Madmen Across the Water (Showcase 94' #3-4). After that though, it felt like Grant no longer knew what he wanted to do with the character and even went backwards on the progress the character had made, which to a reader was incredibly disappointing.

So in a nutshell: my Jeremiah is morally most like he was in Madmen Across the Water, personality wise most like he was in The Last Arkham, and sprinkled in are some traits and fun little facts from later issues by Grant.

And when it comes to Arkham Asylum itself, I go with pre-crisis Arkham, even thought Jeremiah is a post-crisis character. I just don't like any edgy torture chamber version of Arkham. Arkham is not a perfect place by any means, but in my verse, the staff actually tries to do good. Think of the Arkham we see in Super Powers #1 (1984). That's my Arkham.

I will also be touching on the history of Arkham Asylum and Amadeus Arkham in this one a bit and for that please keep in mind that I do not like Grant Morrison's writing. My Arkham/Amadeus lore is based on Who's Who: The Definitive Directory of the DC Universe #1 (1985), with some changes made. The only thing I take from Batman: Arkham Asylum (1989) are the names Constance and Harriet and Morrison's headcanon that Amadeus wrote a journal. Also, Amadeus is still alive in my verse lol. You can guesstimate from Who's Who that Amadeus lived to about his 70s, so he really should still be alive during his nephew's time as director. Might write about how that affects Jerry in my verse someday.

So. With all of that out of the way. The flashback from Shadow of the Bat #1. The trauma something like that would leave you with was left unexplored in the story so of course I wanted to explore it in my verse.

I think there is a period of calm right after the incident. It's like nothing ever happened. Like everything is fine. It's not, of course. Jeremiah just hasn't yet even began to process what happened and once he finally does, it all comes back. He has flashbacks that leave him vomiting on the floor, he has nightmares that leave him shaking in cold sweat. He starts to develop these new fears. He begins to fear being in places like stores, or anywhere with a lot of people around that he doesn't know. He becomes more vary of strangers in general. He will eye at their clothes and bags and wonder if they could be hiding weapons. You might think he could avoid facing these fears if he just stays at home, but no. Even in the quiet of his own room, they keep him company. He has this new goal in life, he has this dream career ahead that he starts to feverishly study to reach, but every time his parents leave to run errands, it seems impossible to concentrate on his books, as he fears his parents won't make it home. And the worst thing is, that he is afraid of being afraid. He is afraid and ashamed of his behavior and feelings. He feels he has to hide it all. He lies to his parents that he is fine and even though his parents can see through it all, they choose to believe the lie rather than get their son help. Why? We are going to have to talk about my headcanons for his father and for the whole Arkham family.

Just for a moment, think about it all from Jeremiah's father's perspective. First, your own mother's mental health starts to decline. Then, your dreamer brother tells you he is going to re-open the asylum that has brought nothing but shame on the family name. Years later, your brother's wife and young daughter are murdered by a man who is later admitted to Arkham Asylum. Sometime later this man dies in an "accident" under your brother's watch and you have your suspicions. You then begin to witness your brother's mental health slowly decline until he is admitted to his own asylum. This tarnishes the family name even further and now even people you've known your entire life wonder if you could be next. Years later your only child is nearly killed by an escaped patient from Arkham.

He needed a culprit for all that had happened. It couldn't have just been change, because how do you protect yourself, your family, against change? You can't. In order to feel like he could protect his son, he needed something more tangible to blame. He was faced with tragedy after tragedy and it all tied down to this one place - Arkham Asylum and it's patients. The answer was clear. The culprit would be mental illness and the asylum that was full of it. He convinced himself if he could keep his son away from the asylum, from mentally ill people and from mental illness itself, he would remain safe.

When Constance and Harriet were still alive, Jeremiah and his parents would visit the asylum often. It was like a second home to them. During these times, he never had an issue with a single patient. He would even talk to them sometimes and found them to be perfectly fine people. He simply chose to forget every positive interaction he had had with a patient for an easy culprit. He could not put his son in therapy, because that would mean that he is mentally unwell, and therefore in danger.

Of course Jeremiah, being that he was only a child and that he had already faced judgment from his peers at school for his last name, would adopt his father's beliefs. In canon, Jeremiah freely tells Batman about his gift of how he can see into madness. In my verse, he would not. He never understood just exactly what it all was and how it had happened, but he knew he could not tell anyone, because they might think he imaged it all. If mental illness is the worst thing that can happen to a person, then any odd behavior or beliefs are to be seen as threats. Being able to suddenly see into a man's mind and learn everything that had ever happened to him definitely counted as odd to Jeremiah 16 years old. He never told anyone that detail until- oh, I'm skipping ahead.

Time does start to heal Jeremiah's wounds. Little by little, he would start to feel more at ease in public places. He would learn ways to treat himself when he began to specialize in psychiatry, but the lack of support meant he still carried the trauma around. It would still come back to him in nightmares during times of stress.

In my verse, he is also a psychotherapist and I don't know how it is in the rest of the world, but at least in Finland, to become a psychotherapist, you need to go through psychotherapy yourself and, oh boy. Oh man. Jerry in therapy? Dr. Jerry ”HOW DARE YOU QUESTION MY SANITY?!” Arkham in therapy? That could be a topic for an essay of it's own, but let's try to keep it short. I'm not sure just how easily you could lie in therapy like that, but if it is possible, Jeremiah would be lying the entire time. He's just so damn scared that if he says one thing wrong, they are not going to give him his license or worse, they are going to lock him up. Jeremiah could possibly get away with not mentioning the incident at the store, because the therapist wouldn't know about that, if Jeremiah himself doesn't bring it up. The tale of his uncle, on the other hand, is public knowledge in my verse and the therapist would definitely ask how that affected Jeremiah. He would have to talk about his family trauma to some degree, but might get away not mentioning any personal trauma. Either way, he does get his license. I think the therapist might be able to tell Jeremiah didn't tell them everything, but ultimate, they would see he's not ”crazy”, just very anxious. And working at Arkham would not make his anxieties any better.

Every day is like walking a tightrope. Everything could be so nice and calm for days and just one little slip up could send the whole asylum into chaos. Even though my version of Arkham is not edgy, even though it's not some spoopy mega prison with 20 casualties everyday, you still have to stay on alert. Jeremiah especially, being he's the one in charge of the whole show. He knows that you could be having the most normal, most boring day of your life and then a heart beat later have someone threaten your life. Just like at the store.

It's the uncertainty of life at Arkham that makes him have such a need for control. He needs to know exactly what is happening and where at all times to feel safe and weirdly enough, he does. He feels safe at Arkham. More safe than anywhere in the world, even though many would call it the unsafest place in the city. It's safe for Jeremiah, because he's in charge. He holds all the strings. If someone so much as farts in the staff locker room, he'll have a written report on it on his desk in 15 minutes. It's outside where he feels afraid.

He doesn't venture out a lot. He is a workaholic. He did use to have a social life, but little by little, he just stopped staying in contact with friends when work consumed his life. It's gotten to the point where all that progress he made all those years ago to be comfortable in public spaces has faded away. Really, spending every waking moment at Arkham has made it worse. He could be at a clothing store trying on new shirts, but his mind is still at Arkham. He's constantly looking around for threads. He's eyeing the place trying to see how much security there is. Could that person be hiding a gun under that coat? What are the best possible exict routes if worse comes to pass? He can see threats everywhere, but he cannot do anything about it. He has no control here. He's definitely having a panic attack at aisle 9.

Obviously all staff at Arkham need to be aware at all times, but Jonathan, being the Master of Fear and all, would notice that Jeremiah is far more vigilant than the others. Now, Jonathan is not physically a threat at all. (I'm going with pre-crisis Jonathan so no ”violent dancing”, this man cannot throw a punch to save his life.) And while Jeremiah is obviously not strong either, he's definitely been to a self-defense class or two in his time. What I'm trying to say here, is that Jeremiah could defeat Jonathan in a fight any day. This became crystal clear to Jonathan the first time he snuck up behind Jeremiah and whispered ”boo” in his ear. Suddenly he found himself face down on the floor with Jeremiah on top of him before he could even realize what was happening. Jonathan began to suspect Jeremiah's behavior wasn't just normal ”you have to be vigilant in this job” behavior, but rather something more.

I'm not going to go into detail about my arcrane headcanons here or we'd be here all day, but to keep it short, Jonathan becomes the first person, 28 years after the event, that Jeremiah opens up to. First person he actually tells the whole story to. It's at that time that he is finally able to truly heal from it all.

[reliciron]

Eternal Empire After Effects

In addition to that post I made a while back about how your characters deal with either the boost in Force sensitivity or the brand new sensitivity for your smugglers/troopers/agents/bounty hunters. I want to talk about the general fucked up-ness that the Commander has to deal with post-KotET.

Like DAMN. Bare minimum, they’ve had to deal with carbonite poisoning, the general mind games of Valkorian, and then they had their mind literally broken in the last chapter. At worst, they get all that, plus taking a lightsaber to the gut. To say nothing of having to fight an impossible war for a little over a year straight with everyone’s hopes and dreams riding around on their shoulders.

A lot of the posts I’ve seen about other people’s ocs has some form of lingering effects from everything. And I just want to talk about it for a minute, cause I live for filling in the scenes we don’t see. [Take this with a grain of salt, as I’ve never played a dark side character, so my perspective will be skewed.]

Long term physical effects:

They were poisoned slowly over the course of 5 years, you can’t tell me that one little dart thing can fix that, at least not right away. This could take the form of lingering nausea, migraines, dizziness. The symptoms of heavy metal poisoning would fit well here. And I hc my consular as having some permanent nerve pain from it.

The stab on Asylum is absolute bullshit in the game. Valkorian or no, there’s no way they’d be walking out. I think I posted a pic I took before, but the stab is easily close enough for the heat transfer to damage the spine. Bone cracks and warps with heat, so you can see the problem there. The wound is almost dead on for where the stomach sits and the lungs, liver, kidney, and intestines are all in range to get badly burnt (yeah I know, alien anatomy might be different, but we’re assuming its mostly the same).

We’ve seen what a lightsaber can do to a blast door in The Phantom Menace, take that and apply it to a person, and Arcann held that blade there a loooong time.

Yes, Valkorian saves them, but I think of it more as he kept them from dying, and not, he completely stopped the blade from cooking them from the inside out. So the three days Lana mentioned are horseshit. The Gravestone’s tiny ass med-bay is absolutely not equipped to handle an injury like this.

I always figured a better way was Valkorian kept them alive long enough for Lana to threaten her way onto an appropriate station and made the doctors fix them. Even so, getting what amounts to several organ transplants, implants to bypass possible spinal chord damage, replacement ribs and vertebra, and a whole lot of skin and muscle grafts will leave your Commander pretty messed up, even with magical Star Wars tech and Force magic. And their allotted recovery time seems to be the length of the base’s construction on Odessen, so there’s no way in hell they’re really done healing by the time they have to go back out into battle.

Specific injuries aside, a year is a long time to fight more or less constantly. At least during the base game you sort of had rests between chapters. They’re gonna rack up an impressive list of injuries, alongside wear and tear like their knees and feet having trouble from the constant running and jumping. And their elbows and shoulders will break down from hours upon hours of absorbing the recoil of a gun or the constant flurry and clash of a lightsaber.

Long term mental effects:

As ugly as the physical stuff is, the mental effects are just as bad. Depending on what class they are, having the goddamn Sith Emperor riding shotgun in their head will fuck them up big time.

Classes who faced off with him more-or-less directly, like the Knight, Consular, and Warrior, are going to have the worst time of it because they KNOW what this sort of thing leads to. The warrior has seen the dead eyed puppet on Voss and knows that could be them soon. The consular had to deal with the emperors children and the First Son. They’ve seen a prominent and powerful Jedi master absolutely crumple under the power of the emperor and he wasn’t even IN there. And Knights have already experienced the emperor’s control first hand.

Not to say the others won’t have trouble with it, it’s just that the reasons will be a little less direct. The smuggler and bounty hunter are used to being their own people, not tied down to anything or accountable to anyone, and now there’s the threat that everything they have will be taken from them and there’s no amount of sneaking or shooting that will save them. Troopers built up their command from basically nothing and now they’re Republic heroes, but Valkorian now threatens the lives of everyone they’ve sworn to protect. The agent is easy, they’ve suffered mind control before, they’ve been slaves in their own body, and they’re terrified of it happening again. And inquisitors were literal slaves who clawed their way to the top, and they’d sooner die than be a slave again.

So just having that asshole there means constant stress for the whole of KotFE and KotET. Insomnia must be a given. How do you know you’ll wake up as YOU? That Valkorian won’t hollow you out in your sleep and walk around in your skin the next day? And for the Knight, Agent, and Inquisitor, I’d think panic attacks are probably a thing, even if they don’t let anyone see it.

The stab will definitely cause some trauma. Pretty sure any wound that gruesome would. And if they didn’t have nightmares before, they sure do now and I’m willing to bet that they might shy away from lightsabers for a while, which leaves an interesting dilemma considering they’re in a war with Force-users, and some of them are Force-users themselves.

Fighting a guerrilla war with an absurdly powerful adversary has to be incredibly taxing, especially for classes who’ve never had to command anything. Smugglers and Bounty Hunters are very screwed here, assuming they care about running the Alliance well. And the burden of saving the galaxy is a heavy one. I can definitely see classes who have saved the galaxy multiple times to be getting increasing bitter about always having to be the one to clean up the messes. Why are THEY the ones who always have to suffer? Why isn’t there ever a hero to save THEM when they need it?!

Agents get their own little special bit here with the bullshit that is Vaylin’s conditioning. They know exactly the kind of misery she’s going through, the powerlessness that one single phrase or word causes. I can understand that the writers couldn’t figure out or bother with a whole separate scene of the agent refusing to use the conditioning, cause then they’d have to figure out how to not have Vaylin murder them on the spot. But goddamn we could’ve at least seen them struggle with it! Maybe an extra few lines of them pleading with Vaylin because they desperately don’t want to use her control phrase. Ugh, at least behind the scenes an agent can have a break down about how they’ve become exactly like the intelligence officers who’d decided that they were too much of a liability to go without a leash they could pull. And now they’ve pulled an identical leash on Vaylin.

And then we have their mind being broken. That could be a post in and of itself. Valkorian came within a hair’s breadth of destroying them entirely, and they were so broken that they didn’t even know their own name. And in the space of 10 or so minutes, they scrape themselves together and fight a god. It’s very impressive (and I’ve got my own issues with that fight) but I don’t think you can pull yourself together that fast after being that messed up without some lingering issues.

Chronic insomnia and night terrors, full blown PTSD, panic disorders, severe anxiety; something THAT traumatic will absolutely leave marks.

And after that? They just keep going. Yeah, things calm down, but they’re still at the head of a very powerful faction now (if not ruling Zakuul), there’s no going back after this. And they’ve got a massive restoration project ahead of them as tensions continue to simmer between the Republic and Empire. The more dutiful characters must be near the end of their rope. There’s no rest, just the next fire to put out, and they continue to run themselves into the ground. And the more flighty characters are now forever shackled by the Alliance. There’s no flying off into the sunset for them. No more anonymity as a bounty hunter or smuggler. Their old life is over, whether the wanted it or not. And how can they really relax when there’s this many people looking at them for direction. They’ve become just like those asshole military leaders who they used to mock.

And for just about all of my characters, they hide it. No one can know that they’re falling apart at the seams. Either it’s about personal pride and acting unphased cause they’re just THAT good, or because they’re trying to be the leader the Alliance deserves and don’t want to disappoint or frighten them by showing just how badly they’re coping. Either way there will be a breaking point.

And even after it all comes out in the open, and they (hopefully) get the help they need. It’s never completely over. Chronic pain and fatigue, depression and anxiety, persistent insomnia; these things don’t just disappear, they’re an ongoing struggle that helps color their future actions.

I just… I really like considering things like this because it hits close to home. Seeing them struggle with some of the things I deal with makes them feel more like people. Cause god knows the writers aren’t gonna put this kind of stuff in there.

[too-many-kpop-hubands]

30 Day Fandom Challenge

Here we go again for my fandom challenge. You still with me? @domsberto I'd also like to nominate @jimonsprettyface

This next fandom is one that I have been a part of from the very beginning and it holds a special place in my heart. Hold on tight and for those who haven't seen it, spoilers ahead.

Day 2- Teen Wolf

(TV Show not Movie)

1) Favorite Character: Stiles Stilinski

Reason: I have a thing for adorable dorks apparently. 😂

Ok so I adore Stiles the most because he is the backbone and heartbeat of the group. Sure he's a spazz and a nerd but he also always finds a way to get the group out of sticky situations because of his intelligent and knack for looking at things from every angle (he truly is his father's son....it helps his Father is the Sheriff alot of the time). He is loyal to a fault and though he has a hard time trusting most newcomers, once you are in he will literally follow you to the ends of the earth. He is a hopeless romantic, as shown with how he is with Lydia and even Malia. He loves deeply and thought he tends to be a fuck up at times he always finds a way to make things right. He keeps the others in line and helps everyone that needs his help. As the only human of the group he takes his job very seriously and is damn good at keeping the group together even when he personally feels like falling apart. I adore him to no end.

2) Most Relatable Character: Liam Dunbar

Reason: Liam is an adorable, scared and confused little rage monster. Unlike the others on the show who had a few seasons to get used to the world of the supernatural, Liam was still new to the world and was often left scratching his head wondering what the hell was going on. I can relate to that because even in real life I don't know what the hell is going on most of the time. He is also the most relatable because unlike the others on the show, he actually acts his age for the most part and wasn't forced to grow up as fast as the others. Honestly, for a young Beta wolf he can be the most human of them all at times. He likes to have fun, he likes to hang out with his girlfriend and play lacrosse. He marches to the beat of his own drum, which I do most of the time. Another thing I can relate to is having a short temper. While my temper is not nearly as bad as Liam's (who as Intermittent Explosive Disorder) I still get how hard it is to calm down once that temper is triggered.

3) Most Underrated Character: Isaac Lahey

Reason: Besides Derek, Isaac probably had the most growth of all the characters on the show before his exit from the show. He had to shoulder alot of pain and loss in his life starting with his mom leaving and his brother dying, then suffering from years of abuse at the hands of his father. After being turned by Derek, he felt empowered to help not only himself but others as well and did all that he could to help people in need. He even found it in him to forgive his father for abusing him for so long, which takes strength all on it's own. He went from being a scared and abused little boy to being a badass who did everything he could to help people he cared about and those who were unable to defend themselves. I see you Isaac, I see you and I appreciate you.

4) Most Overrated Character: Derek Hale

Reason: Ok before I start this, let me just says that I love Derek Hale ok? He is all kinds of sexy and has some good qualities but of all the people on the show he is also the most overrated. Ok hear me out here before you come at me. Throughout the series Derek is hyped up as this big bad Alpha dude. Yes, he turned a bunch of teens into wolves and helped them, and Scott, learn the ropes but when it came down to a fight most of the time he either made things worse or just didn't show up when he was needed the most (example when they were fighting the Nogitsune, Dread Doctors, Ghost Riders, Alphas). Most of the time it was Scott and his pack that ended up saving the day. Sure Derek helped gather intel but as far as fighting goes, he didn't really do much for such a "Big Bad Alpha" who threatened to rip people's throats out with his teeth. Hell he didn't even kill the bitch that murdered his ENTIRE family, nor did he kill the Darach...instead he slept with her. Wow Derek, just wow. He ran most of the time, went MIA alot of the time only to make a dramatic entrance and knock a few people around when Scott already had things under control. I love Derek but.....some big bad Alpha he was.

5) Least Favorite Character(s): Tied Kate, Gerard, and Victoria Argent

Reason: First of all, Kate....She got away with murdering an entire family (minus Derek, Laura, Peter and Cora) and then manages to cheat death by turning into a freaky ass werejaguar when Peter ripped her throat out. How?!?!?! No matter how much chaos she starts she still ends up getting away. How is she not dead yet? Jesus! She was a manipulative person and honestly one of the most toxic on the show besides her shady ass who I will talk about next.

Gerard was a piece of work. He brainwashed Allison into trying to kill her friends, he praised Kate for killing the entire Hale family, he tortured and killed innocent supernaturals simply for existing and used Jackson in his kanima form to carry out his shady agenda. He was also a hypocrite. He hates supernaturals yet relied on Scott to help take away his pain when he was sick and dying only to turn around and train a new generation of Anti-Supernatural hunters to do his bidding. He was a piece of shit.

Victoria Argent was the Matriarch of the Argent family and even when her daughter (Allison) and husband (Chris) wanted to actually help the innocent supernaturals she did everything in her power to make sure they felt like shit for wanting to help. She freaking tortured and tried to kill Scott for no other reason than he was a werewolf that was screwing her daughter and then made herself out to be a victim when Derek came to save Scott and he bit her a few times after she attacked him. She refused to turn and killed herself instead of facing the consequences her actions lead to (her turning into the very thing she hated, a werewolf).

6) Favorite Canon Pairing: Stydia (Stiles Stilinski and Lydia Martin)

Reason: From the beginning when you first see Stiles and Lydia interact on screen you start to root for the spastic nerd to win the heart of the most popular girl in school. Stiles always saw the real Lydia that she hid behind her popular facade. He saw how smart she was, how much she actually cared for people despite pretending like she didn't. He had been in love with her since the 3rd grade and even when they dated other people, that love never died. The closer they got as friends the more you wanted them to just end up together. Several seasons later and we finally hear them confess their love for each other and finally FINALLY get together. Praise be to all things Holy! Stiles and Lydia manage to balance each other out and anchor each other. When Stiles has panic attacks, Lydia is there to help calm him down. When Lydia gets overwhelmed by her Banshee powers, Stiles is there to help ground her. Stiles saved Lydia more times than I can count but she saved him too on more than one occasion. Stiles and Lydia have a love that is beautiful and pure. I see them lasting forever and they should even now that the show has been over for a while now. They are beautiful and they are my OTP. I could go on forever but I will just leave it here.

7) Favorite Non-Canon Ship: Scisaac (Scott McCall and Isaac Lahey)

[Close Call Honorable Mention: Sterek (Stiles Stilinski & Derek Hale)]

Reason: Ok first of all this was a close race between my boys Scisaac and my boys Sterek but when I look back at both pairings, I love the purity of Scott and Isaac versus the almost toxic pairing that is Sterek. (I adore Sterek but come on! Looking back now they were hella toxic!) Now for Scott and Isaac they had their moments. They lived together and Scott always managed to find a way to help bring Isaac back to reality when he had moments where he would lapse into PTSD style symptoms and nightmares. They always had each other's backs and they always gave each other looks that went beyond that of just friendship. Hell Isaac even agreed with hearts in his eyes that Scott was the "hot girl". I believe that if these two had of both cut Allison lose and crossed the boundary of friendship into a romantic relationship they would have been just as strong as Stydia. A pure and passionate kind of love born out of genuine care for one another.

8) Least Favorite Pairing: Stalia (Stiles Stilinski and Malia Tate)

Reason: First of all their first hook up was in a freaking insane asylum so that right there is not a good start for any lasting relationship. Throughout their relationship, Malia took Stiles for granted and then had the nerve to get jealous when he paid more attention to Lydia (who he had been in love with forever at that point). Malia had the mindset of a child and was immature most of the time. Don't get me wrong, Stiles could be immature at time too but she brought out the worst in him. I don't dislike Malia. I actually like her as a character but not as Stiles's girlfriend. Plus this biggest reason I dislike this ship? It took longer for Stydia to finally happen. Let's not forget how she practically walked all over him.

9) Favorite Part/Moment: Lydia tells Stiles she loves him too.

Reason: Stiles had been taken by the Ghost Riders and everyone forgot who he was but before he was taken he told Lydia "Remember I love you." But she never got the chance to say it back before he and her memories of him were ripped away. When he finally came back there was a touching scene where Lydia said "I never got to say it back." And the two of them shared their first real kiss (not counting the kiss she gave him to stop a panic attack in a previous season). This was one of those moments that was several years long overdue and for us Stydia fans, we rejoiced when they finally got their shit together and actually became a couple. Praise!

10) Least Favorite Part/Moment: Allison is killed by the Oni

Reason: Allison Argent was a character you could sometimes love and hate at the same time. When they battled the Nogitsune and she sacrificed herself to the Oni to save Isasc, I sobbed like a baby. It was a way for the writers to write off the actress's character but one of the most heartbreaking scenes in the entire series. It is my least favorite because Allison died. It was a beautiful farewell as she died in the arms of her first love (Scott) but I can't even think about it without sobbing.

Thank you for sticking with me. Until tomorrow! ❤

[ko-eko-ev-go-ms]

*quietly continues talking & slowly doing shit instead of what I gotta be doing*

TFW you are so ever consumed w/ “god fuck this fuck everything omfg” tht u get consumed w/ chaos & mess & ur entire room is a hellscape & self is filled w/ mess & you continue to make terrible decisions bc fck imma do literally everything but this fck man

[chronicbatfictioner]

A Real Boy - Chapter 9

By breakfast, Bruce was not there. Dick had gone back to the city with Barbara, and Alfred said that Bruce has "some business to attend to in the city, Sir,"

Tim figured that he was just getting the hell out of dodge to prevent the awkward discomfort between he and Tim. But then again, he'd woken up at 9, and was about to let Alfred know that he wouldn't be needing breakfast when Jason walked in with a croissant in his mouth and an announcement that his "holy massive breakfast, Tim!" was ready.

"I wasn't about to be such a hassle, Alfred," he told Alfred. The old butler/daimon scoffed.

"No such thing, Master Tim. You are as much part of the household as Master Dick is." he said. Tim could swear that Alfred's eyes had twinkled when he told Jason, who was about to protest, "and you as much as a part of the household as Zitka, Master Jason. Albeit with less apples and more bacon."

"Glad to know you don't intend to provide only apples for me, Alfred, thank you." Jason declared, grinning charmingly as Alfred placed another plate of bacon and toast in front of Jason. Tim rolled his eyes. Absolutely unimpressed and partially wondering if Jason had been a common human, he would be as obnoxious. Unfortunately, Jason took that exact time to look at Tim and caught his eye-roll. "Hey, if you rich boy didn't get the lesson on how to be courteous, I can teach you some." he quipped.

"Oh, I did get that lesson, alright. I just skipped on the part where you blatantly kissed someone's feet to get more bacon." Tim retorted.

"Bacon is food of the gods, Timothy. If feet-kissing is all that is needed to get them, that I shall do." Jason replied haughtily. "Some had sold their souls for it."

"You've just made that one up," Tim cautiously remarked. Jason's deadpan face was not helping in deciding whether his remark had been a flat-out lie or truth. The only relief was Alfred, slightly smirking behind him.

Or maybe not. Alfred was, after all, an ancient being, too.

Tim wondered if it was a bad idea to bring two ancient, humanoid beings, under one roof.

The week passed with not much of a... drama, per sé. Sure, there were some strange creatures that appeared somewhere Downtown, suddenly deciding that they wanted to reside in Gotham and just have to create some ruckus to attract attention for themselves. Bruce and whatever squad he ran promptly vanquished such intentions and send those creatures back to where they had emanated from.

Some they had actually sent to Arkham Asylum, a containment place for the possessed. Supposedly, Arkham knew ways to un-possess them, exorcise the demons or whatever.

Operative word being 'whatever', because Tim knew that there were many who had left Arkham and still bearing the evilness they had possessed when they were thrown in.

Like Victor Szazs.

Szazs, once upon a time an heir of a major business - kind of like Tim - had lost his family business and fortune due to his own arrogance and gambling. Afterward, something snapped in him and he had started murdering people, claiming that each of the cut he'd made on his body to represent each kill would make him live longer.

"Uh, no." Jason actually cringed as he came up behind Tim and read Szazs' statement. Bruce had sent the case file to Tim, to see if he could figure out Szazs' possible next victim. "Demons would never make such a promise. If he said one had, he's lying or being lied-to."

Tim sighed. "Imagine how convenient our lives would be if ancients like you or Alfred or Zitka or other familiars are legally allowed to testify in court..." he groused.

Jason chuckled. "Yeeeah, some of us aren't quite so benevolent, either. We could lie and have no consequences of our lies. We don't subscribe to your deities, you know." he remarked. "shit, some of us were even your deities at some point in time."

Tim turned and glared at Jason contemplatively. "Would a familiar actually lead the magi to... like, do evil things?"

"No, at least not if they'd come to where I came from, right? More likely it's the magi who'd make his familiar do evil. The worst we could do is evil by silence." Jason replied. He thought for a moment, and then added, "or omission."

"Mmhmmm..." Tim hummed. "I understand omission. Your job is to protect me, after all." Jason placed his hand flat on Tim's head. "Right?" Tim pressed.

"Absolutely."

"I'd rather you don't omit any information for me, though, even if it could hurt me. I need all information before I can figure out what steps to take to handle something." Tim prompted.

"Sure," Jason replied. "it's not like you'll not jump from a ledge if I say it could kill you if you wanted to save somebody below, is it?"

"Absolutely," Tim echoed, grinning. "But I'll know how to make myself not dead if you could tell me things like, how far the distance is below, between ledges, how long of a rope I'd need... you know, things like that."

Jason sighed. "I'm a familiar, Tim, not an engineer." he said. "What I can and will do if you ever leap off a ledge is catch you and fly you out of there to safety. I cannot, however, go in advance and let you know of the dangers up ahead or stuff like that."

"Okay, that sounds good to me." Tim mused.

"I'd rather you don't put yourself in such a predicament, though, but I reckon I'll sound like a hypocrite." Jason added.

Tim looked at him curiously. "So allying myself with Bruce and Dick and Barbara and whatever crew they might have is and will be bringing danger to me. Why did you do it, anyway?" he asked.

"Okay, three reasons: First and foremost, you're untrained. It'll be more dangerous if you roam around on your own. They can train you, at least physically." Jason pointed out. "Magickally, that'll be my part. But stealth isn't exactly my forté, as you can probably tell..." Tim rolled his eyes, flashing back to the time when Jason first appeared. Other familiars would have slipped in quietly - a cat, a bird, anything. Even Zitka could slip in quietly and stealthily, probably, in spite of being an elephant. Jason just slammed into Tim's bedroom in all of his smokey glory.

"The next one: they are a formidable set of allies. Your goals align with theirs, which is to prevent the misuse of magick by... well, people like him--" Jason tapped on the laptop screen on Szazs' face. "and maybe one day have the natural creatures-- the ones called 'supernatural' by them layfolks, return and restore balance in the universe once again."

Jason was quiet for a good long while, that Tim had to turn again and looked at him. "What's the third?"

His eyes were a little blank, as if he was thinking of something else and was miles away from the question. So Tim snapped his fingers in front of Jason's face, only to have the latter caught his hand. "Don't. I heard you. The third is that they-- Bruce Wayne, that is; has a book that I haven't found yet. In it, there are many knowledge that even the All Caste didn't have in writing. They only have snippets of the knowledge that's generally useless, and if I can complete the snippets, it'll bring a massive change to the balance of power in the universe."

"And that should benefit me, how?" Tim wanted to know.

Jason glared back at him, seemed ambivalent at first, but then answered, "it'll give you all you ever wanted, Tim. Anything and everything. Even the dead."

It took nearly a whole minute before Tim spoke again, after battling and sorting the thousands of questions in his head. "Explain."

Jason shifted uneasily, turning to face Tim. "Remember the Pinocchio story, the tale about him being carved from enchanted wood? Not the sugared-up children's tale about him being 'blessed' by a fairy and come to life?"

"Yes, I have original fairy tales at home." Tim replied a little snarkily, because he did. His parents never thought of the children's version of fairy tales and instead would always give him the spooky, banal ones. "You would know of the nightmares I've had..." he added.

"Yeah, well, it's my duty to let you know that some of them are more like the kids' tales than the spooky ones. But anyway! Pinocchio. He was actually literally enchanted; fictional adventure notwithstanding. Now, said spell had been used to bring to life a lot of things--"

"Oh my god... Pinocchio was an effigy!" Tim suddenly caught on.

"Yeah, that. But effigies were not the only ones brought to life. Still, the spell was lost and my... 'school', so to speak, has been investigating the whereabout of the book since time immemorial; and concluded that it was lost in the hand of an unnamed warlock." Jason continued.

"Given that there are barely a handful of warlocks nowadays, and Bruce came from a long line of warlocks, you assumed it would've been in his ancestor's possession." Tim concluded.

"Exactly. Now, in the hands of a warlock - even someone like Bruce Wayne, the book is useless. But that would not prevent it from being acquired by a magickal person. Now..." Jason exhaled slowly. "...I can't postulate. But from what have been happening in the past... since I got to you, I have fears that the book could be in the wrong hands."

"Hence your insistence to find it. Did you ask Alfred?"

"Daimons didn't have the same views as familiars, Tim, Alfred could probably tell me where something is if I know what it looks like. Like, I could probably ask him for first editions Arthur Conan Doyle books, and he'll be able to point it to me. But this... book - I only call it book based on the ancient All Caste description of 'tome'. It could be in pieces, it could be a carved rock or pots or vases or papyrus..." Jason elaborated. "Alfred wouldn't care nor have curiosity of the contents of it, even if he could read it and/or are interested in modern age's literature..."

Tim sighed dejectedly. "Okay, I'll pinpoint this guy Szazs' next victim - I think I'm beginning to see a pattern here. Barbara can cross-check it later. And then I'll help you in finding this book or what? --just so we can go home afterward."

"I can't tell you what it looks like, alright? A second pair of eyes is handy, but I still can't tell your or show you what it looks like. It's just... if you see it, you'll know it."

"Thanks for the vagueness. Good thing my brain is pattern-based. See? Now I think I've got like, three possible next victim and hopefully Bruce can mobilize some protection before... whatever insanity Szasz is trying to do can actually--" Tim grumbled as he clicked the 'send' button. His report and analysis will be sent to Barbara, who would be assigning whoever she deemed necessary to protect the three-to-five probable victims. "Okay, let's--" Tim abruptly stood up, groaning as his muscles protested at the sudden movement. He stretched his entire body gently, getting a good yawn for good measure, and looked at Jason. "Let's?"

Jason hesitated for a long time before he nodded. "Alright. Let's go roam this obnoxiously massive mansion. Maybe we'll be able to go home before dark."

As daylight started to fade, Tim - and Jason - had to admit that looking for a 'tome' that defies description; may not look like an actual book; and likelyhidden by magick; in a mansion that is as big as several city blocks; was "an exercise in insanity," - according to Dick - who had returned at three p.m. from his errands - even after Alfred, Dick, and Zitka lent their literal and metaphorical hands.

"Exercise in insanity, indeed. But there is a benefit: I now know which parts of the house that are in dire needs of deep cleansing." Alfred commented mournfully, after observing the cobwebs on Tim's head. "Do not shake your head, Master Tim. Allow me." he added, and then a small dustpan and brush appeared out of nowhere as he brushed the cobweb off Tim's head.

Tim barely managed just not to shudder. "I think we'll need a shower..." he lamented.

"Bathrooms at the ready in your respective bedrooms, young sirs. And Master Dick, kindly utilize the showers and not the bathtubs. Otherwise you shall clean it yourself." Alfred remarked, glaring at Dick who was a little worse for wear than Tim - thanks to his insistence on looking at literal nooks and crannies above their heads, on the ceilings and thereabout.

DIck grinned unrepentantly at Alfred, and then glared daggers at Jason - who remained pristine. "There are times in life I wish I was a familiar... or has the ability to be dust-proof."

Jason snickered back at him. "There are times I wish I were something else, but in this right here time, I'm just happy at being dust-free."

"You two still thinking of going home?" Dick asked.

"Yeah, I gotta. I have early classes tomorrow." Tim replied.

Dick nodded. "Okay... I'll go with you. We'll get to town before Bruce gets back so I can hitch a ride with him."

"Dude, no need. It's not that dark, yet..." Tim protested. But Dick just gave him a blank glare.

"...and the city isn't exactly like, a few dozen miles away. Anyway! I have to get myself some stuff, anyway. Just... pretend you're giving me a lift if your pride is not happy." Dick replied.

"Okay, fine..." Tim sighed. "But you're not driving my car."

Dick gave him a mock gasp. "Oh nooo... what would I do now that I'm not allowed to drive you millennial's hybrid car!" he mourned. Tim grinned. Dick's car was a sportscar that cost about four times Tim's. Probably as much in fuel, as well.

"I'm sure you'll find some ways to keep yourself entertained..." Tim retorted. "So, fifteen minutes?"

"Good for me." Dick nodded, getting up to get to his own showers. "Might want to make a note on what you'll need from downtown, Alfred!"

It took nearly all the way back to town, where the city lights started to illuminate the horizon, that Tim realized that the atmosphere has indeed changed. The roads were not dark, yet there seemed to be spots where the darkness were... less diluted.

"Yeah, most of those spirits are just hangin' out, but some are... not." Dick explained. "The main reason why we prefer to go in pairs of humans. No offense to familiars. Just..."

"I get it. They... I can't protect you if you concede to their ways. And those aren't the kind who'd use physical violence, per sé." Jason huffed. "Like, if you see a baby deer in the middle of the road, not moving. What are you going to do?-- kind of thing."

"Good people would stop." Tim stated.

"Good people traveling alone will then be theirs. Especially if they're magis." Dick intoned.

"Oh," Tim exhaled. "How come I've never seen them before?"

"You didn't have a familiar before. They're aiming for those who already have a familiar." Dick paused. "I have no clue what they'd do to the familiar, if the magi is... like, converted or something. But you know, just to be on the safe side, let's not try to find out, yeah?"

"Right," Tim mumbled a reply while trying to ignore the questions in his mind. He decided right there and then that he wanted to know, just so he could figure out how to not fall prey to whatever lurked on the road from Wayne Manor to Gotham. From the passenger's side, Jason sighed heavily.

"I'll look for why, who, what, or how. Right now, I think we better concentrate on Gothamites' legendary road rage, so we can get home in one piece."

[magic5ball]

Nature Trail to Hell Arc V: Back into Hell (1)

Chapter 1: It’s Always Chilly at Camp Sham

           Back when I was in the cub scouts, my dear old Dad gave me a manual on Boy Scouting. Can’t remember a single thing from that book, except for the ever so honorable motto: ‘Be Prepared’. It was right pretty in its simplicity, something I remembered long after I’d spilled grape juice all over the pages. Not to always be prepared of course. That was something only total NERDS believed, but that if I had a short. simple slogan, people would think I was the smartest guy in the room no matter what I did. Which was why, when yours truly had done gone and sent his army straight into enemy territory without so much as an ink of what he was gonna do, he thought improvising the whole thing over two hours was the smartest idea since chocolate chip waffles. Granted, I had been to an improv camp the last summer, but considering my greatest accomplishment was getting coffee splashed in my face, my prospects weren’t looking so hot.

Not helping were the little sponge dinos asking what the plan was every five minutes, like one of those backseat drivers constantly asking if they’re there yet.

But what I lacked in improve skills I more than made up with in last minute panic. I’d been evoking that dark power to plow through school as long as I could remember. Heck, even in kindergarten I’d build an entire six foot scale mansion with a swimming pool and martini bar just one minute before the thing was due! AND got that passing C- (I got the grade raised by threatening legal action). So I buckled in (not literally. Cardboard boxes don’t exactly have safety regulations) and got thinking.

           And you know that moment where you’re trying to get an idea, but for some reason the more you try to look for it the harder it gets to find it? Guess when that old feeling decided to set in. I tried everything. Wrapped my head in my hands, rocking back and forth. Rubbed my temples. Banged my head against the side of the box. But no matter how hard I pushed the old noggin, nothing came out. Like squeezing a potato through the eye of a needle.

            As the icing on the crap cake, turned out packing peanuts weren’t even edible! All those years figuring Mom was keeping me from them because they were bad for my teeth, pining for that soft, rainbow marshmallow flavor that would melt on my tongue: WASTED!

“Is the plan ready yet?” Growled the little sponge dinosaurs at the worst possible time. In the EXACT same tone I used when I found I wasn’t getting that pet Lystrosaurus from Santa, too!

Still, the old grey matter was totally clogged. Only thing to do was keep pushing the metaphorical tater through the needle until the Almighty got embarrassed for me and struck me with divine inspiration.

For their part, the sponge dinos looked up at their leader as he babbled about potatoes and coming to the terrible realization that maybe, just maybe, the horse they were risking their lives to back wasn’t exactly the sharpest steed in the stable.

The rumbling truck came to a halt. Couldn’t have been more than ten minutes of driving. Frankly, I had no idea what was worse: the fact I had run out of time, or that I HAD DIED LITERALLY TEN MINUTES FROM A FREAKIN’ WEGMART! OF ALL THE STUPID, LOUSY THINGS THAT-

My whining would have to wait. Outside, I could hear the wails of kids having to sing about Tarzan getting a tan for the five zillionth time, a shiver running down my spine. And beneath that moaning of the ding-danged, I heard none other than the thing disguising itself as Ms. Hoebag chatting it up with the delivery guy. The spongey dinos, still unsure about what they were supposed to be doing, started to make inanimate object noises to disguise themselves, proving that maybe they should have been the ones leading this operation.

“A week late!” She roared, her deep, satanic baritone a far cry from the pleasant camp counselor voice I’d heard when I first arrived all those weeks ago.

At least the truck guy wasn’t gonna take it lightly. “Listen. Ma’am, I’ve had a crazy day and frankly, after certain events, I kinda want to check into an asylum.”

“In that case, want to SELL YOUR SOUL?” She went prattling in a tone no camp counselor should have been able to make. Not even the sort who’d expose young, impressionable minds to Carney the Dinosaur.

“No can do, Ma’am. I already sold it for a lifetime supply of spicy bean chalupas at Tako Shak.”

           At that, Hoebag wasted no time eviscerateing the poor feller about the good virtues of selling your soul wisely. Funny how the first useful thing I’d learned at camp I’d found weeks after the fact. If nothing else, at least I got twenty new swear words to add to the ol’ collection.

           This took up a good half hour I should have been using to plan, but really, when could I expect to hear those words so dirty I would still be cleaning pieces out of my ears three years later again? I wasn’t about to waste my chance to gather forbidden knowledge! Like the little kid I was, I insisted on waiting just a little longer… until I felt the ground beneath me get all light. Somebody was lifting the box, taking me in… wherever it is the Camp kept its’ Styrofoam containers. But going to that place meant passing through Camp Sham itself. And the more I waited, the more curious I got about what was happening in the camp since I’d been away. I’d only heard Freddie’s rumors, so I wasn’t really sure what to expect. Mostly what came to mind were images from those old Disney movies my Grandma showed me under the delusion I’d find them fun, only to realize Fantasia involved a literal trip to Hell that gave me nightmares for weeks (and also a scene with dinosaurs that would pretty much define my life for the next half a billion years).

           My dumb kid curiosity, the kind that makes you think flooding the house to make your own pool is a good idea, finally got the better of me, and I poked two little eye holes in the cardboard. Or tried to. Now that I was a ghost in the physical world, my fingers kinda just sunk through, like quicksand. After taking a moment to feel dumb for not thinking of that, I put my face to the box so I could look through. Didn’t have to worry about being seen, of course, being a ghost and all.

           Freddie had lied to me back at Tako Shak. What I saw outside was worse than anything that had come out of the old turd’s mouth. It was less like a camp, and more like one of those old Renaissance paintings of the underworld used to scare kids out of snack time, except greyer, with giant snow-belting storm clouds circling the sky in a massive vortex. Christmas in July, courtesy of some genie who went out of his way to be a jerk. There was not a single festive light or wreath to be found, but rather large television screens advertising how ‘Carney is Watching You’ duct taped to cold, three legged lookout towers. Kids, dressed only in swimtrunks and coats most likely made in arts and crafts, shoveled snow quickly as their little arms could go, while guards carried around sabertooth tigers- actual sabertooth tigers!- on chains, threatening to sic then on anyone who might slack even a little bit. I recognized those guards, too. Where their skin was exposed I could see elaborate tattoos (though branding marks is more like it) with some all-too-familiar patterns on them. Patterns like ‘Orange you glad to be here?’ or ‘I’m berry proud of you!’. I felt sorry for those poor kids. My Dad says they don’t hire people with tattoos anymore. Yet as bad as things got, I kept STAREING. That’s the thing about Summer Camp, the thing I learned the hard way: no matter how much you try to erase it, to drown it out the memory with video games and t.v, you can never really run away from the horror, always sitting at the back of your mind, waiting to pounce you when you least expect it, like a hungry sabertooth.

           All this, in the name of building character or some other buzzword the grownups read off their memos.

           The last thing I saw before I drew my head in, curling up in a ball on the opposite end of the box, was a kid, his butt frozen off- LITERALLY FROZEN OFF!- standing in the snow as three other campers tried to reassemble his gluteus maximus like one of those 3-d wood puzzles you find at bookstores, their fingers stuck fast to the pieces.

           Somehow, the inside of the mess hall was even worse, a chromium dungeon of pure monotony, icicles long as I was a danglin’ menacingly from the ceiling, ready to (try and) impale my ghost body at a moment’s notice. Here, delivery guy finally put the dinos and I down on a shelf, leaving us for dead in that wintery world. Even after his footsteps were long gone, I got the jitters something fierce, fierce enough to stick me in place. Felt especially bad for the dinosaurs. If I was stuck in place, those guys must have been frozen solid, warm blood or no warm blood.

           Heck, at that point I think I forgot about planning entirely in favor of thinking about how to find warmth, because Lord knows thinking doesn’t do you much good when you’re frozen half-solid! Rubbing my Rhode Island-sized goose bumps for just a little bit more heat, I faded through the box before I became the human Watt-sicle, landing smack-flat on the metal floor, sending a fresh wave of shivers through my ethereal form. 

           I could barely get my feet off the ground before I heard someone coming. Coming, and looking right at me. A chunky kid in a dirty white chef’s apron, his sleeves rolled up despite the obvious weather conditions; feet not slipping despite the icy floor. A kid I recognized him almost immediately.

“SHATNER?!”

He jabbed a butcher’s cleaver into the empty air, clearly startled.

“WHO GOES THERE?!” 

[scrumptiousgardenerbarbarian]

Batman: Arkham Asylum - The Game That Changed My Life

Before I played Rocksteady’s Batman: Arkham Asylum back in 2009, I might have said “yeah, Batman’s pretty cool I guess.”

Now, 11 years later, I literally have a tattoo sleeve dedicated to the characters from this very game. It would be safe to say I've become quite the Bat-fan and it all started with Arkham Asylum.

As I played the game, I started to become fascinated with Batman’s unique and complex rouge’s gallery. I was familiar with Batman’s more obvious villains such as such as Joker, Two-Face, Penguin, Riddler etc. But I also started to learn more about villains I wasn’t so familiar with, such as Harley Quinn, Killer Croc, Scarecrow, Bane and others.

Diving into these character’s backstories led me to becoming more and more interested in the Batman mythology which then led to an interest in other comic book characters and so the obsession grew. Now I’m the biggest geek I know and may not even be in this class right now if I hadn’t decided to give that game a go.

So what was it that made Arkham Asylum so revolutionary that it transformed me into the Batman obsessed geek I am today? 

Let’s take a look at how Rocksteady developed such a life changing game...

CONCEPT

The concept of the game was to take Batman and give him the worst nightmare of his life in a dark and gritty environment and give it a level of intensity that other games were lacking. 

Having the game take place in Arkham Asylum meant that Rocksteady could pretty much use any Batman villain they wanted in the game as they have all been there at one point or other during Batman’s 80 year history. 

STORY

While he is delivering The Joker to Arkham Asylum, Batman finds himself caught up in the middle of a massive prison riot. An elaborate setup orchestrated by The Joker to kick off specifically when he is being returned to Arkham and will see Batman face off against an army of criminals, psychopaths and supervillains.

Although The Joker is in control, things don’t always go his way. Being in charge of a team of supervillains can be challenging even for The Joker. They all have their own agendas after all, but they do have one thing in common, they all want to kill The Bat!

ARTSTYLE

The artists tried to push a lot of Gothic elements and Victorian Era architecture for the asylum design which helps add a creepy and sinister tone to the environment. The team dived into the comic book history and really done their research to deliver an art style fans would be happy with whilst still putting their own spin on it.

The asylum is located on Arkham Island, just off the coast of Gotham which you can see twinkling in the backdrop across the water. During the game you will explore different parts of the asylum including the cells, the penitentiary, the sewers, the catacombs and the gardens, which give the game the balance it needs.

ANIMATION

Rocksteady have their own motion capture studio, where they brought in gymnasts and suited them up to capture some of the more difficult moves such as Harley Quinn’s dynamic flips, jumps and cartwheels and Joker’s wacky, almost dance like mannerisms. Some of the more exaggerated villains such as Croc and Bane benefited from hand animation to capture more stylized poses.

For animated cutscenes, the team tried to create comic book frames and compositions and spent a good 6 months solely on the cinematics. Working in layers from basic visuals to sound effects until eventually all their hard work from the beginning came together to give us the beautiful cutscenes we see in the game.

DESIGNING CHARACTERS

It would take the character artists up to around 6-8 weeks to design some of the bigger, more prominent characters starting from a 2D concept image and evolving the character as they are created in 3D.

When designing Batman, they team took inspiration from numerous comic book artists including Bob Kane, Neal Adams and Frank Miller and combined them to give their own interpretation. They also spent a lot of time perfecting Batman’s cape, treating it almost as if it were another character. 

This attention to detail is no doubt what made Rocksteady’s versions of these characters fan favourites including myself.

GAMEPLAY

The game has several modes of play including field/exploration mode where you can pretty much roam an open world limited to Arkham Island of course. Detective mode where Batman can prove his worth as The World’s Greatest Detective to solve mysteries and crime scenes within the game. Battle mode where Batman can be facing up to 10 thugs at once armed with bats, pipes, tasers and even machine guns. 

When dealing with multiple armed thugs with machine guns, Batman can go into Invisible Predator mode, where he can observe his enemies from the rafters, grappling from gargoyle to gargoyle and silently striking from above, leaving them hanging upside down and helpless. The developers wanted to push the fear factor in these situations. The more thugs he takes out, the more the fear level rises as Batman toys with them, picking them off one by one.

Of course, Batman has an arsenal of weapons and gadgets that are used in various situations throughout the game such as the Batclaw for reaching high places and escaping danger, explosive gel for breaking down weak walls and setting traps and Batarangs for every situation including remote control and sonic Batarangs. 

Players will test the skills they have learned throughout the game when they face off against one of Batman’s Rogues in a boss fight. Each boss fight employs mechanics and a setting specific to that particular character and tells a story through dialog of the history they share with Batman.

MUSIC & SOUND

The sound designers really wanted to not think about what had come before and create something iconic to the game. They worked closely with musicians from the US to develop the music score which takes from contemporary classical orchestral music which really suits the atmosphere of the asylum.

The sound technicians worked hard to make sure all the sounds in the game were believable. It was very important to them to ensure the sounds of gadgets and weapons, character movements and even the sound of buzzing lights felt real to keep the right tone throughout the game.

There aim was to put every player in the shoes of Batman and make it all feel as real as possible.

VOICES OF LEGENDS

One of the key elements that I believe made this game so great was the voice acting. Rocksteady brought in Kevin Conroy, Mark Hamill and Arleen Sorkin for the voices of Batman, Joker and Harley Quinn. All of whom voiced their respective characters from Batman: The Animated Series.

Bringing in those legendary voices really made a massive difference to the dynamic of these characters and the game as a whole and played a huge part in why I loved these characters so much personally. 

Hell, with different voice actors I may never have gotten the damn tattoo. 

I guess we’ll never know.

References:

https://store.steampowered.com/app/35140/Batman_Arkham_Asylum_Game_of_the_Year_Edition/?l=brazilian

https://comicvine.gamespot.com/forums/gen-discussion-1/rank-the-villains-of-batman-arkham-asylum-2053596/

https://www.pinterest.com.au/pin/392305817517880184/

https://www.giantbomb.com/batman-arkham-asylum/3030-23245/forums/recently-played-arkham-asylum-and-the-joker-506713/

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3Zku335KyDc

https://arkhamcity.fandom.com/wiki/The_Riddler

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XlBW4a57aAE

https://medium.com/@Xander51/the-essential-games-batman-arkham-asylum-2009-2ad5dc05f3f

https://arkhamcity.fandom.com/wiki/Predator_Mode

https://www.denofgeek.com/comics/batman-arkham-asylum-10-years-later/

[theliterateape]

American Shithole #43 | GOP Senators are the Embodiment of Cowardice

By Eric Wilson

I hope we get to hold them down and carve a giant “T” into their thick fucking skulls before this is all over — although I imagine history has far worse in store for them. The “T” is for Traitor, of course, although that word will become synonymous with Trump in due time.

Bennedict Arnold may have finally caught a break.

The day is coming when the republican leadership crewing Trump’s extended voyage as our Traitor in Chief will finally drown at sea in a storm of their own making — not that most of the rats haven’t already abandoned ship. Working toward the selfish aims of our country’s worst billionaires is one thing; working alongside Trump and Putin to destroy the United States of America? Well, that is something else, entirely.

Some of these Senators are going to jail; all of these motherfuckers are ruined.

I particularly look forward to the rock Mitch McConnell has set aside to hide under providing no cover; instead being lifted and dropped repeatedly on top of him — preferably by children recently granted asylum from Honduras.

Although the surviving members of Monty Python would serve just as well.

In my mind I can taste the first billionaire Trump supporter losing everything, and knowing only incarceration and ruin until their dying day; I can taste it as if it were the water of life. Please universe, gift humanity the destruction of the Mercer family; and all the rest of these revolting, bloated Klepto-Capitalist ticks.

If you listen closely, you can hear them suck, suck, sucking the potential out of every human being on the planet.

But first, these spineless GOP Senatorial fucks — along with their whole shitgibbon-loving party — must experience a baptism of fire. The unholy constructs of ultra-conservatism that they’ve erected in fealty to the gods of avarice must be reduced to jagged I-beams and molten slag. I know they’re scared; they need to be terrified before they’ll change.

✶

Good morning!

It’s Tuesday (my typical American Shithole day) where I allow myself to wallow in news feeds for as long as I require — and not a minute more.

So let’s review:

College football national champs the Clemson Tigers visited the White House, and McDonny (in their honor) dropped a coupla hundo on some shit-burgers (and other assorted semi-edibles) better suited for a child’s birthday party.

Did he get them a bouncy room, too?

How about a piñata?

Was there a pony in the White House?

Meanwhile, Trump is working on Putin’s next demand — that the U.S. leave NATO.

With a vote of 424–1, the House of Representatives moved to take a giant shit on Congressman Steve King’s blatant racism, approving a resolution rejecting white supremacy and white nationalism; and in a rare moment of clarity, House Republican Leaders removed King from his powerful positions on judiciary and agriculture committees. King had recently reiterated what a Nazi tool he is, and this time it finally cost him something.

In other parts of the world where horrors abide, British lawmakers rejected Theresa May’s Brexit deal by an overwhelming (and possibly Tory leadership ending) 230 votes.

Ouch.

Monty Burns’ doppelganger, along with the rest of British Parliament, hasn’t seen a loss like this in a century.

(Update: As of Wednesday, May has survived a vote of no confidence.)

Back in the old USofA again…

Attorney General nominee William Barr danced around questions regarding the Mueller investigation in his bid to be associated with this administration — when literally no one else seems to be willing to lash themselves to this giant, orange albatross — which should make everyone nervous, despite what he had to say.

And Mueller has given the judge “documentary evidence” of Manafort’s lies.

Double ouch.

Let’s not forget the bombshell reports from both the New York Times and the Washington Post this past weekend… any doubt our president is anything but a Russian asset is over.

Let me repeat that.

The President of the United States is a compromised Russian asset.

And yet, through all this — we’ve all suffered over two years of this nightmare now — Republican senators cower behind a traitor.

You have done nothing, and you will be remembered for nothing else, Senators. You will all be held accountable for your absentee governance and stunning lack of response to treason and treachery.

Before Christmas, the Senate voted 100–0 on the House budget proposal, and at the last minute, after some skeleton-woman, and FOX News alt-right mouthpieces blew Trump shit for being weak on the wall, he vetoed the legislation.

Here was your chance to check the Trump base, Republican senators; gauge a reaction by overturning that veto and keeping the government open — but you didn’t, and you won’t.

What a waste of an opportunity.

By doing so you might have gleaned how Trump’s base would react to impeachment. You might have been able to both do the right thing, and survive.

You had the opportunity to be American heroes, possibly heroic enough even to save your pathetic excuse for a political party; perhaps your very souls. Not to mention, the rest of us.

Rome is burning, Senators — yet still you scurry towards shadows untouched by flame.

The GOP Senate of the Trump era: cowards, every motherfucking one of them.

(Update: On Wednesday, Senate Republicans refused to block the Trump administration from easing sanctions on Russian billionaire and close Putin ally, Oleg Deripaska.)

[plaugeratforever]

me:I am no longer suicidal

korans:I hope so...Hope it stays that way aswell

me:me too

voice:it never stays good for long you know better

ME:you help korans And basil keeps me safe and makes it to where I am never alone

voice:basil is just a ferret what can he really do to help you? how can he really stop you?

korans:I'm very relieved you feel that way.

me:me too

korans:AWE

korans:BEAUTIFUL

voice:for now

me to my voice:shut up please im happpy just let me be happy

me:i think so

me:I absolutely love the feeling of feeling safe it's weird...... but super comforting

And welcomed

me:very welcome

me:And basil is a very large part of that

lexi hates that a ferret outs I his house let alone that I have one but in such a short time he has bonded with me amd made tip where I can feel safe especially from myself.... And he cann tell when I am hallucinating..... it's weird.... but he confirms that they are not real the voices all of it....... it's like it was my destiny to have him like he was made just for me Made to help me in every way possible.... like he is the key to unlocking my soul.........i know I'm crazy it's just a delusion of grandeur

voice: if i am a hallucination then you are also delusional your fucking ferret cant save you your fucking ferret cant tell when you hallucinating you are just as crazy as we thought you were

another voice: laughs hysterically oh my god this is too funnY

ME TO THE VOICES:just shut up please leave me alone please

korans:i am happy to hear that basil helps

me:i cant wait to tell my doctor

voice one :quack

voice two:guack quack

korans:yes the good news

me:No offence but he is the most important thing/ living being in my life so far and I only just got him.....lile I said maybe Destiny? maybe fate? maybe he wad made just for me? Maybe he was made to help me find myself? Maybe bee is like my own personal Jesus? Or some shit like that......id don't know what I do know is I am very well on my way to happy

voices:happy there is no such thing happiness is a delusion

korans:i'm very happy to here that baby girl

korans:And here we are. Here and now

me:he passed out awe

korans:and here we are now

me:????

korans:Like here in the present. Like you said this was meant to happen to you. You were destined to have this little ferret and it happened.

korans:This is your road to recovery my sweetheart

voices in unison: recovery is not possible who are you even?really who are you?

me:I still don't l know what is going on in my life I still have no idea who I am or why I exist..... but thats not a big deal to me right now...i am in the eye of the storm so to speak and while the first part was brutal round two will hit much harder faster And stronger I am a realist......i know what's coming for the most part

****korans stars talking about his own storms about how i can be cured schizophrenia is not curable dose he thin he is a psychiatrist or something?****

me:I'm saying I am propagating for the fight of and for my life LITERALLY and I need a good hand swift fingers a nimble soul an unbreakable heart an absolutely fearless friend 24/7 by my side at all times a pack of Wolfe's my mind needs to be sharper than ever my words need to be elegantly put.....And a Pen or!12 will defiantly be needed to record the events that are they to come............ because this is not the last storm by far it's not the last.... and I need to be ready to face the hardest things imaginable..... I'm so not at all ready for this fight hell I'm am just beginning to prepare ....but it dose not matter right at this moment.....nothi g dose except my will power and my new baby boy again no offence but these are the only things that matter it's calm any I can never tell Seth the other side of the storm is going to hit.... so I will make the best of it

korans: ill be there 24/7 i'm already proving that

korans:i know what its going to take

****what the hell you have no idea what you are talking about you have never had to deal with the hell i and every other schizophrenic has to deal with ......if you are sleeping you are not hallucinating you are fucking dreaming or having i nightmare how in the hell do you know what it is going to take fucking christ****

****the eye of the storm will pass soon and soon its shal rain hellfire and brimstone and you will go will i will go absolutely fucking insane again, and again,and again. and again, and again until you DIE that is my life medications that don't work and shit that is not real****

later on in the conversation my side only

me:I don't want a shield to protect me I am the incredible Fucking hulk bitch

The only person in this world that cam protect me is me

I need to gift and win and continue to fight until the day I die and no one can protect me from my own worst enemy............. because it's me....... this is muy fight and while I love your support and your confidence in me I need to take the blows I'm gonna get so I cam send them back 10 fold

me:You can be there you can have my back I'm not saying you can't...... I'm just saying I need to do this myself for ONCE

along bit later

me: I'm exhausted talking about what is to come

They the truth is in some ways I dio need protecting and in some ways o can't do this pin my own.... but I have you, basil, Vikki, mommy, emilie and Emily and john (again too ).i have my army of men and mice and we Are strong

korans :ah ok

me: Oh and the entire asylum fwvg all of the inmates and the plague reats as well

me: im serious

Me: I AM VERY SERIOUS

me:IM DEAD SERIOUS

me: you barley know what i am capable of you will

korans: in due time yes

me: Yes you will i am destructive force of nature an the only person that can beat me is me and i do quite often to often there rarely is another person that can take me down but they find me some how....ill win eventually

me: It's like playing Marvel versus Capcom 2 the computer is almost impossible to beat another player is ten times harder

****i wish he understood i was talking about fighting myself i wish he understood there was nor real way to "win" i wish he understood what is wrong with me ......i may not be "sick" but my brain is broken to bit i wish he understood that****

****then again maybe her does maybe he's trying to ........you now i have no fucking clue what he is trying to do no idea at all

what are his goals....what dose he want from me ....i have nothing to offer.....nothing .....and anything sexual is completely off the table for a long while im not ready i am just not ready at all****

[viralhottopics]

A Definitive Ranking Of 2000s Rom Coms

Although people who peaked in high school like to act poetic about how great the 2000s were, they werent actually any better than the present day. I mean, it was a time when Britney Spears and Justin Timberlake wore matching denim outfits in public and nobody carted them off to an insane asylum.

But Im prepared to make a concession on two points: 1) At least we werent under the administration of a sentient slime mold wearing a bad wig. 2) The 2000s were a golden age for romantic comedies, mostly thanks to Judy Greers tireless efforts to play every heroines best friend. Plus, only like half the jokes were sexist, and there was about an 80% chance pre-pretentious Matthew McConaughey would show up.

Obviously, a betch has to be picky about her rom-comssome are shitty in a good way, but others are best avoided in case someone catches you watching them. To guide your Netflix viewings, here’s a totally objective list of 00s rom coms. If you disagree, which Im sure everyone will, please note that Im not actually forcing you to watch these movies; Im just saying that if you regularly watch any of the bottom five, you have terrible taste.

14.

is considered a modern classic by two groups of people. 1) men in their late 20s with a crush on Natalie Portman and a thriving quarter-life crisis and 2) 8th graders in 2004 under the assumption that any movie that features a Shins track in its soundtrack is automatically deep. To everyone else, its a film about self-absorbed white people whining about their lives until theyre magically fixed by the power of mixtapes. There are approximately a zillion issues with this film, beginning with Zach Braffs complete lack of expression and ending with the fact that you cant cure real depression by listening to The Shins, no matter how clearly superior the soundtrack is to anything else in this film. Worst of all, though, is the fact that Natalie Portman played a manic pixie dream girl so obnoxious I still dream about strangling her character sometimes. Padme deserves so much better.

13.

Im not saying romantic comedies have to make much sense, but s plot is mystifying. Matthew McConaugheys parents are tired of him living at home, so they call in a lady high class escort (Sarah Jessica Parker) whose job is literally seducing men into moving out of their parents basements and unceremoniously dumping them. Because that’s plausible, and not at all fucked up to force your son to fall in love with someone you’re paying. Ridiculous premise aside, you know a movie is terrible when famed nicegirl Zooey Deschanel is the best thing about it.

12. Monster-in-Law

In case you missed this one, and for your sake I hope you did, is about Jane Fonda inexplicably being terrible to Jennifer Lopez, who walks a lot of dogs and is engaged to Fondas son. That right there should tell you all you need to knowI cannot think of one movie that JLo was in that was anything above mild torture, and we’re supposed to root for her character why, exactly? If my son was engaged to a full-time dog walker you can best believe I’d do everything short of actual murder to put a stop to that bullshit.

11.

Im told some people love this movie, but Jesus fucking Christ, is it possible for the two main characters to be any more appalling? Here you have two assholes manipulating the shit out of each other and just generally acting psychotic, all to win a stupid bet with their friends. They really should call it “How To Act Like A Psychopath And Lose Your Dignity.”

10.

Not gonna lie, I fucking adored when I was an impressionable preteen. It had time travel! Mark Ruffalo! A makeover scene! Years later, the movie is still fun to watch, even if it is way too obsessed with the 80s, but the jokes are more cute than funny. Also, why would anyone allow their 13-year-old child to go to a sleepover hosted by a 30-year-old? That is … questionable to say the least. Not to mention Jennifer Garner’s character does a reverse transformation from a betch into a nicegirl and dumps her hot pro bf in favor of her formerly fat friend. Blah blah, true love, I don’t give a fuck. Tenth.

9.

is close to being wrapped in cutesy narration, but it’s far superior. For one thing, it reintroduced the world to Joseph Gordon-Levitts dimples. For another, it manages to be a fairly realistic depiction of a shitty millennial relationship without being super fucking depressing. But thats also kind of the problemrom coms arent supposed to be realistic, theyre supposed to be clich and feel-good, and I don’t care what you say, Summer is a thot. I have literally stayed up at night mapping how she could have possibly met someone worthy of engagement a mere 118 days after she broke up with Tom, and only six days after attending a wedding as his guest (yes I did the mathI told you; this movie keeps me up at night). No matter how you slice it, she had to have cheated on somebody.

8.

Full disclosure: As a Southern betch, Im stoked that takes place right next door. (Dear Hollywood: An entire country exists between New York and LA.) But even though it features Patrick Dempsey as the other man, Josh Lucas with a dreamy Southern accent, and Reese Witherspoon, there are still some issues. Mainly, WTF WERE YOU THINKING, MELANIE? Did you really dump your future president fianc for your secret redneck husband just so “the first boy you kissed could also be your last”? I’ve heard of trying to keep your number down, but damn if this isn’t some delusional shit.

7.

Everyone on planet Earth can relate to having a batshit crazy family, and thats exactly what makes appealing. The two leads are fine, considering they’re not Kate Hudson or Matthew McConaughey, but the extended family is everyones favorite part of the movie. Honestly the most memorable moment to come out of this movie is the “put some Windex on it”pretty good deal for Windex, not so much for the people who actually starred in the movie. However, it does get points for the memorable line: “The man may be the head of the household, but the woman is the neck and she can turn the head any way she pleases.”

6.

The plot is pretty flimsy (a Canadian businesswoman has to marry her assistant to avoid deportation) but everyone loves a story where the couple starts out hating each other and eventually falls in love. The cast is what makes this movie pure rom com gold: Sandra Bullock, Ryan Reynolds, and Betty fucking White, who gifted us with the infamous Native American dance scene. Basically, it’s predictable but ridiculous, making it better than some of the other garbage movies on this list.

5.

Admittedly, is probably to blame for some of the chubby man-child/beautiful, svelte woman couplings we see in the media that give men unrealistic beauty expectations (of the types of women they can expect to date), otherwise known as The Beyonc/Jay Z Phenomenon. But whatevs. Its a good movie. Seth Rogen has that whole dad bod thing going onapparently a thing some people are intoand Katherine Heigl was at the top of her rom com game before she pissed off the entire cast of .is actually hilarious, which is enough to make up for the fact that Katherine Heigl appears in it.

4.

Even aside from my undeniable crush on youthful Sandra Bullock, is a quintessential early-2000s romantic comedy. Allow me to explain. 1) It stars an ambitious career woman who dont need no man. 2) But she kind of wants one anyway, and everyone realizes what a catch she is when she puts on lipstick and a dress. 3) Did I mention its plot is literally an extended makeover scene as Bullock goes from bad ass FBI agent to bad ass beauty pageant contestant? I rest my case. Add in some cute female friendships and a scene in which Bullock teaches us how to fend off an attacker, and its basically required viewing every year.

3.

You had to know was going to make the list despite this amazing take-down article of why it’s actually terrible. With approximately a bajillion storylines going on, its hard not to find one you like and get invested, and it doesnt hurt that the film features every well-known British actor under the sun. Im not sure how the movie manages to juggle all the different plots without being confusing and/or boring, but Im not gonna question it. However, this shit is TOO FUCKING LONG. If I have to pop an Adderall just to make it through a damn movie (which I do), you need to send your editors back to the drawing board.

2.

is the perfect example of a rom com thats super clich in theory, but in practice, its so fucking heartwarming it doesnt even matter (ugh). Katherine Heigl plays ultimate nicegirl Jane (in case the fact that her name is “Jane” wasn’t enough of a clue), whos been part of 27 weddings and miraculously hasnt gone broke from buying all the bridesmaid dresses. The dudes are pretty forgettable, but Janes psychotic sister and slutty best friend totally steal the spotlight, elevating the film to truly betchy heights.

P.S. For once, James Marsden plays the leading man, so his preternaturally perfect face gets more screen time, #bless.

1.

Bridget Joness Diary is the ultimate feel-good movie, as in its literally impossible to watch it without feeling your icy soul thaw ever so slightly at the end. The titular character starts out fat, single, and past the age of 30, so basically our worst nightmare. By the end, though, she manages to bang Hugh Grant and Colin Firth, land a better job, and become a self-described wanton sex goddess. If those arent your life goals, you clearly need to start your own self-help journey.

Read more: http://betches.co/2leb0vU

from A Definitive Ranking Of 2000s Rom Coms

[theliterateape]

American Shithole #41 | 2018: Year in the Rear

By Eric Wilson

Let’s get this out of the way: 2018 blew horrid chunks of shame and embarrassment all across the dance floor — not unlike a certain drunk freshman I can recall over-imbibing at a Syracuse sorority party he had no business attending — certainly requiring decades of scouring to remove the stench.

Well, the party’s almost over, and it’s time we all started sobering up.

The parade of tyranny and cowardice stretches as far back as I can remember some days (has it really only been two years, Toto?); the blotchy ink-stain of this administration will disgrace American history books until the end of fucking time.

There’s no changing that now. Time to clean up the mess.

What’s worse, our powers of diplomacy around the globe have evaporated, our gravitas has vanished into thin air, and our allies have all but distanced themselves. Any pretense or hope that America is still the shining beacon of democracy has been snuffed out — not unlike the lives of children seeking asylum at our border.

If I were inclined to suggest a top ten list of the worst shit that’s happened this year, everything that wouldn’t quite make the cut is still some of the worst shit this century. (Where does Traitor President fall on that list, and how fucking terrible a list must that be to even have to consider that question?)

One of my editors has different lenses, it seems. In his year-end wrap up, Himmel expressed that in the little ways 2018 “wasn’t so bad.” Old me bristled — but hell, I like Himmel; and gosh-darn-it, a rich, white guy on his boat is entitled to his opinion.

Democracy itself however, begs to differ.

Strange days indeed, so let’s just put 2018 to rest shall we, without much more ado?

“The Times They Are a-Changin’“ is ringing in my ears, and this New Year’s baby would like to take a moment to reminisce.

Hopefully I’ve earned it, but I’ll still try to keep this short. It is interesting though, to me, finally coming to an age where I can look back and see what has really changed for the better or worse. 

✶

I grew up in the age of pre-Reaganite trickle-down economics, before the GOP’s disastrous dash towards the far-right.

“Jeez, you’re going that far back?”

I was born in 1968, is that better?

“No, no, pre-Reagan is fine…”

I was a boy for the entirety of the 1970s, and the first six years of my life were relatively idyllic. An only-child of divorce in 1974, what followed was a time of protracted sadness in my life lasting until the end of the decade. A large portion of my childhood was spent moving from place to place. Certain terrible songs of the era (Think: “Loving You;” also, my apologies) still bring a rush of unhappiness to this day. Always the new kid, I had lived in eleven different cities by the time I’d reached high school, and probably twice as many homes — I learned to never put down roots.

I am unsure if this is causal or corollary, but I’ve never been married, and I’ve never let anyone all the way in.

Terrible childhood lessons aside, I actually have a point:

In all those towns, in all those houses across America; east coast, mid-west, south west, flyover states — one and all — I never felt the weight of anything other than what I had come to know as our ingrained, American neighborly behavior. Block to block, coast-to-coast, people liked each other. We were nice to each other, we talked respectfully to each other, the kids played outside with each other. Even in the South Bronx in the mid-seventies; it was still better there then, than it is almost anywhere, now.

People got along, communities got along; at least everywhere I lived, anyway, and I lived everywhere.

If we are going to make America something again, that’s what I would like to get back to; not some disillusioned fantasy about how good life was back in the ‘50s. (Translation: how awesome it was back when the homosexuals, blacks and Jews weren’t on TV, and the atheists weren’t allowed to make fun of Jesus, and the hippies didn’t exist yet, and the liberal snowflakes all had real jobs at universities and kept to themselves.)

Well it wasn’t great.

I want to live in a community that celebrates its neighborhoods, in a city that gives a shit about its communities, in a state that; well, you get the idea. Americans on board with that (despite differing political views) — that’s who I want to dig metaphorical trenches with. That’s who I want in my foxhole, as I try to figure out how to set down roots (finally) after being here for nearly ten years, and how best to contribute in my community. People looking to celebrate what we have in common, those are my people now.

Then of course I turn on the morning news and I want to go bury my head in a stack of books and never leave the house again.

Anyway, that’s what I am looking for in the years to come as we all endeavor to fix this horrible fucking mess. I could continue to point out how terrible some Americans are — they are, and I will —but anyone with any sense knows that by now.

The thing that saddens me the most about our national face-plant, is that Americans are divided and suffering today solely for the purpose of making a handful of billionaires richer. All the rest is smoke and mirrors.

Calling out billionaires for being the shitty architects of our eventual demise has been my honor this year. I hope that if you take anything away from this column, it’s that billionaires shouldn’t exist. Individuals should not be valued as much as countries. What evidence could any of these cretins present that would demonstrate a value to humanity that merits their net-worth exceeding all of France?

Anyway, look…

American Shithole is a festering miscreant, really; a raging torrent of emotion and anxiety; an angry, vitriolic screed almost prepubescent in its tantrum-like spasms of vulgar language and run-on insults.

Quite like a child old enough to make its creator fucking miserable, yet not old enough as to be capable of slouching off on its own, American Shithole is going to need the occasional Time Out. It’s not yet the moment to kill this Frankenstein; just temper it with other creative efforts at Literate Ape — for I fear it will otherwise dominate my nightmares forever.

 Also, I want to be happier in my autumn years.

Here’s a truth: I’m not educated, determined, funny, or politically savvy enough for American Shithole to have a chance at being special; and until I figure that out, I’m just showing off without really showing the goods. I don’t identify with any of these filthy animals I now begrudgingly write about either — and that’s another problem — you have to identify (at least a little) with your subject, or it just comes across mean.

And if we’re really being honest here, I think it’s pretty clear I fucking hate these people; making them the sole focus of my energy this past year has infected me, and I think I need a GOP high colonic.

So a republican enema it is.

In 2019 I look forward to various Literate Ape and personal projects that have me all-in. Fresh creative endeavors that fill me with joy — the joy of positive creative energy; not feeling sullen and hollow.

That said, it’s been an honor documenting our misery. I’m just not decent enough to humanize these monsters, or clever enough to dance around them humorously without it feeling hackneyed and trite.

I’ll keep working at it.

I could go back through my favorites and highlight some passages (with pride even), but this year-ender is already pushing my word limit. The fruits of my creative efforts for 2018 are out there as a series of ones and zeros, and that’s good enough for me. I re-read a few pieces this past week, and I am uncharacteristically comfortable with my first attempt at creating a political humor column different from the rest. Barring my premature demise, there are surely AS features to come — as there is no way I am giving up before I write about at least ten key figures off the top of my head, not including Trump himself.

I did promise embarrassing pictures (among other things) so I will end the year with this image that encapsulates 2018 for me. I’ll save embarrassment for future work — this is the pic that matters.

Writing a column and swinging for the fences with it — is a bucket list item. A handful of those forty-some-odd pieces are likely my best creative work to date, which indicates growth, and that feels meaningful to me. Looking back at these last twelve months of American Shithole, I couldn’t be happier, or more satisfied.

I hope you are too.

Be Best.