#mayor kitt look at this

[phantomphangphucker]

Phic Phight - Half(a) Fool Too Much

For: @lexiepiper @murphy-kitt @a-closet-emo @amabsis @lexosaurus @deathcomes4u @ventisettestars @dennyz-backroom @paenling @echoghost1 @ssprout @silverwing013 @mossy-covered-bones​

April Fools in Amity Park equals absolute Chaos. Especially when Danny Fenton, aka the weird pun-loving half ghost kid, is involved.

“So, whatcha in for, Fenturd?”.

Danny snorts, rolling his eyes at the jock, “you know me well enough, what am I not in for”, leaning back in his seat, “what really sealed the deal was me inconveniencing Lancer, you see….”.

—1 hour prior—

Okay. So Danny might have fucked up. To be fair it was totally one hundred percent Vlad’s fault. Definitely. (That was a lie)

Vlad had been complaining Danny’s ears off about the towns ‘weird fetishisation’ of his two halfs, so Danny did something. A very something something.

Bribed a few Neko cat ghosts to run around confessing their undying love for Plasmius all around town. Then tricked a very drunken Plasmius to chase a laser pointer across the rooftops; that way everyone would think Plasmius was a weird cat ghost, and thus living regular humans definitely wouldn’t be interested in that right? Wrong.

Then today Vlad tried to hold a press conference to ‘dispel the rumours about one of the local ghosts’, said rumours had spun wildly into half the town thinking Plasmius was a ancient cat god taking a humanoid form to woo ‘a mate’. So Danny tried to be helpful and possessed the podium mic to voice over Vlad so it sounded like this was a press conference to declare his undying love of cheese and only cheese.

The town would definitely not still be interested in someone who proclaimed to have a passionate love for literal cheese baths.

Except that had been followed up by someone shouting, “cats love cheese so is this your attempt to woo Plasmius?”, followed by the crowd whispering about the ‘town hotties’ trying to get together.

That all isn't the why or how of Danny getting detention though. Rather it was the fact that Vlad’s response to that question had been to promptly swear in Russian.

All it took was one “Пиздец” (Damn it) and Danny burst out laughing in shock so hard that… he got stuck in the microphone.

Stuck in a microphone during school hours… when he was supposed to be in Mr. Lancer’s class… a Mr. Lancer that was already fed up with everyone’s April fools shit, especially Danny’s.

—Present—

Danny shrugs, “so yeah, Lance had to fetch me out of a microphone while Vladdie snapped about how he-”, making mocking air quotes, “‘didn't know whether to be touched or pissed, Daniel’. I for one was very impressed with myself; both of my mild swear-related Russian skills and my messing with people skills”, and nods curtly to himself.

Wes chuckles a little, “you’re a little jack ass, but even I’m impressed you got mayor Bastard to actually swear”.

Danny finger guns at the wannabe sleuth, “and he did it in front of a mic”, then grumbling, “granted he could just blame me for that and say I was manipulating the sounds”.

Dash raises an eyebrow, “you were doing that though”.

“Shush you”.

Dash chuckles, leaning back himself, “least all I did was set the bathrooms on fire”.

Wes pointing at him, “on fire by making them spew literal magma. I’m surprised the schools still standing”.

Danny just looks impressed, “that was you? Damn. That shit out shone my whole ghost bees in the water lines”.

“… Didn't three people have to go home because of that?”.

Danny glares at the jock, “oh like you care, Mr. Got Kwan To Replace The Footballs With Explosives. That wasn't even original”.

Wes scowls at him, “well unlike your half ghost ass, we can’t just phase things through peoples locker doors or turn peoples pants invisible”.

Dash nodding, “or stab ourselves in the heart with a pencil to scare a sub”.

“Or swallow enough forks to violently vomit up forks in the middle of gym class”.

“I’d bet ten bucks you were also the one who made the stop signs start ominously walking towards parked cars”.

Wes rolls his eyes, “and that whole every pot in town simultaneously falling over and exploding had to have been you”.

Danny gives them a mean smug smirk, “hey if the towns going to decide that vampire looking ass is a cat god, then I have to out cat him”.

Dash tilts his head, “but didn't everyone drop that after, like, almost our entire class got both Phantom and The Box Ghost to also chase a laser pointer?”.

“That means nothing”, Danny puts his hands behind his head, “honestly? I’m more surprised that me parading Pariah around as my new dad wasnt the thing that finally broke Lancer”.

Wes actually slaps the back of Danny’s head, “I thought that was Vlad pranking you! The entire town blamed me for that shit!”.

“Why the fuck would you get me ghost adopted!”.

“I don’t know! That’s what I said!”.

Dash gives Wes a dull look, “dont you dare tell us that you're in here for something you didn't even do”. Of course weird Wes would be the one to get in trouble without causing trouble even on fucking April fools.

Wes huffs, grumbling, “well I did steal the G.I.W.’s new recruit tour bus in an attempt to make them follow a certain someone”.

Dash groans, “even on April fools you cant drop that ‘Fenturd is Phantom’ crap? Sure, he might be some freak ghost hybrid thing but come on already”.

Wes throws up his hands, “OH MY GOD YOU ARE ALL FUCKING DUMBASSES”.

Danny chuckles at his expense, “says the dumbass that apparently crashed a government bus into the cafeteria soup pot”.

Dash blinks, “yeah i still don’t get why the lunch ladies make the soup in a five foot by five foot vat”.

Danny shrugs, was it gross? Yeah. Was he complaining? Not really. “At least the G.I.W. contaminating it with cleaners got us out of eating it”. All three nodding readily.

Wes huffs, eyeing Danny, “what I don't get is why you even did that thing with Pariah? How was having a tyrannical genocidal mad man following you around shouting about forged adoption papers and trying to stab you with a sword, a good prank?”.

“Fishing for fresh gossip, are we?”.

“Oh fuck you”.

Danny chuckles and shrugs, “it pissed Vlad off”, shrugging, “plus, Pariah is kinda pretty badass. Have you seen his biceps? He has black-clad knight even”.

Dash quirks an eyebrow and shakes his head, “you could have just stolen the mayors bed, not went through freaking adoption, you weirdo. Point on the rest though”, and eyes his own bicep, flexing.

“Hey, I already did the whole fill up water bed with wet cement thing; the last thing I am is an unimaginative repeater”.

“I’d say you're lucky that didn't kill him, but if Vlad couldn’t survive deadly situations, someone would have assassinated him by now”.

“Wait, would that make you, like, ghost royalty now? You should totally boss Phantom around now”.

Danny gives the jock a blank look, “Dash, I’m not bossing a ghost around in their own lair, you dick”. Dash just rolls his eyes at that, while Wes mutters, “you can't boss yourself around anyways”, which goes ignored.

All three jerk at the door getting yanked open… by Pariah Dark, “I’VE FOUND YO-”, followed by a red blast shooting him away, the door swinging back shut, a bunch of thumping, a not so small explosion, and the door opening back up. It’s the FrightKnight, “I blame you for this”, he appears to be ‘dragging off’ Pariah -who glares dangerously at Danny- by the cape to do royal duties.

Danny grins meanly as the door reshuts, “I guess I should also mention some ghosts who really don’t like me are trying to make my ‘new dad’ take responsibility for me”.

Dash blinks before putting his head down on his desk and wheezing, “you really went and pranked a ghost king, you fucking weirdo”.

A couple more thumps make them eye the door, then the wall as the sounds seem to be coming from the room over now. They all glance at each other, shrug, and get up to investigate. At this point, how much more trouble could they even get in anyways?

---

Valerie was having a day, alright? April fools was one of the worst days in her opinion, and not just because of the ghosts being ghostly pains in the ass; no it was mostly Danny’s half ghostly ass. What kind of (lovable) psycho convinces everyone who sells salad to sell exclusively screaming ghost salad. And that’s not even touching him being responsible for her having to chase goddamn Pariah around and actually play nice with The FrightKnight.

It was like Danny’s goal every April was to turn the entire town into a hostage situation and blow shit up. At least he was also pestering that lying asshole Vlad, but still.

So now, just like every April First since she started being a hunter, she gotten shit-kicked. Normally she’d be cool with Phantom maybe coming and patching her up, but knowing that ghost, he’d clap her in the face with a ghost-shaped pie first.

And as if she could see the future, the classroom door opens and whoever gets to see her injured bullshit. Fucking lovely.

…

Annnnnnd of course it’s Dash, resident bully and ex-friend. Danny, the reason for all her problems today and ex-boyfriend. And Wes, the wack job conspiracy nut. Fun. Fuck the entire universe and Phantom too.

At least she’s still in her suit. That was something.

Dash, the ass, whistles, “damn, you got your ass kicked”.

She groans and half slurs, “oh fuck you”.

Danny finger guns while the three boys walk closer, “swearing at civilians, I like it”.

She wants to punch him.

Wes throws up his hands, “oh great the other teenage superhero that no one believes me about”.

Earning a round of, “shut up, Wes”, from everyone.

Danny shrugs, leaning down, “but hey, from one Wes victim to another, let’s get you to not be a blood fountain”.

No one says or does anything for a second before Valerie cautious speaks up, “are you trying to fix things for once? On April fools?”.

“Hey it’s not that weird”.

Everyone shouting, “Yes it is!”, isn’t surprising.

Danny pouts, “fine, I’m doing this weirdly then. Give me your scanner”.

Valerie sighs, “this might as well happen”.

Dash sounds more cautious than she had, “what are you going to do with it”.

“Possess it and jump start healing”.

Dash quirks an eyebrow, “after you got detention for getting stuck in a microphone?”.

“Oh it’ll be fine”.

… it was not fine.

Danny’s voice comes out through the scanner. “Uh. I’m stuck again. Oops?”.

Everyone facepalms.

Valerie sighs, granted Danny had jumpstarted her suits healing to a weird degree but for fucks sake. At least she could fix this easily, a couple taps and boom! one half ghost ex gets ejected.

Danny just blinks from where he landed on his ass on the floor, “huh. Well that was convenient”.

Valerie grumbles from the floor, “convenient my ass. One of the most pain in the ass ghosts in this town has a thing for overshadowing, protecting myself against that is common sense”.

“Hey at least you don’t have cat ears-”.

She mildly shoots him as she stands up, “you can shut the fuck up, oh my Zone you are a dick”, and aggressively waves away the ectoplasm the boy had made form little cat ears on her helmet. She also decides to take the building shaking slightly as her cue to book it outta there; Zone knows what ghostly brawl is awaiting her now; the three boys not far behind.

The last thing they expected was for there to be a couple of men in suits flashing badges and asking them if they can help them find a certain boy; Valerie just chuckling awkwardly and flying off quickly on her board, the boys can deal with this shit.

Danny looking to Wes while gesturing grandly, arms still smoking slightly, “Wes! I thought you just stole a G.I.W. vehicle not a standard government vehicle!”.

“I did!”.

One of the men clears their throat, “actually, we’re looking for Daniel Fenton”.

Danny drops his arms, “ah”, blinking, “Fuck”, and turns to book it down the hallway.

Dash crouches on his heels, wheeze laughing, “the Hell else did you do, Fentwink!”, wheezing some more, “you did some crazy shit, some stupid shit, and some hilarious shit; but what did you do to get arrested by the government”. Wes rubs his eyes, “why do I even try to get him in trouble? He’s doing it all on his own”.

Danny, for whatever reason, doesn’t try to phase or fly off -likely not wanting to flaunt his ghostliness too much to outsiders- and thus gets tackled to the ground. One of the agents snapping, “Daniel Fenton, you’re under arrest for hacking your way into presidency”.

Danny blinks, “… TUCKER! YOU DICK!”.

Said geeks voice comes through the -hacked- speaker system, “how was I supposed to know hacking the federal government was a bad idea? Don't you want to be able to say you took over the country before the fruitloop could?”.

The government agents look like they’re trying to not be swayed by this, though it was an… interesting attempt out of being arrested. All their proof led back to Daniel not this Tucker though. Eh they’ll let their boss figure it all out.

-

Tucker winces, watching Danny glare bloody murder at the school cameras while being carted off by government agents. He looks to Sam from their spot up in the school ceiling, “do you think I should just bite the bullet and show him Phantom’s fursona that I got on the evening newspapers front page?”.

Sam glares, “what did you ask the artist to make him”.

“…”, Tucker looks down and sighs in defeat, “a badger”.

“You’re fucking Dead”.

(Danny -as Phantom- did, in fact, kick his ass later while throwing newspapers at him and chasing him around town)

---

William Lancer sighs, taking a seat with his tea, unfolding the evening news. Figured that on April fools the paper would choose to run a, freakishly well done, anthropomorphic version of the local town hero ghost. “Hopefully there’s something in here I can use as a creative writing punishment”.

Lance Thunder chuckles hollowly, “those teens giving you trouble? I saw what that Daniel boy did with the mayors mic”.

William grimaces, “that wasn't even the worst of it. When I finally gave him a detention he ate my tie. He vomited forks on the gym teacher earlier”.

Mr. Thunder grimaces, “that boy is a menace. They give you a pay raise yet?”.

“Ha. As if”.

“Same”, Mr. Thunder puts a hand to his chest, “and I have to report on all this mess tomorrow. Someone glued a bunch of hair to hotdogs and hung them from trees; the smell was nauseating. And that magma river from Casperhigh? Who even did that?”.

William sighs, “Dash, the quarter back. He got detention, for once, too. I can’t exactly make him clean up magma, so I think I’m going to make him sweep up all the whisp ghost spit up”, shaking his head, “if I made Daniel do that, he’d roll around in it”.

“My hair could never”.

William nods slowly, though pausing with his tea cup to his lips as the two Lance’s stare at a government vehicle going by with a seemingly arrested Daniel sitting in it and kicking the window bars while growling like a feral animal.

Both Lance’s blink, “what did he do now”.

Sam running by glances over, huffing, “Tucker made him the president of the United States”.

Lance Thunder pulling out his note pad, sounding defeated, “guess I know tomorrows main story: ‘Underage, Under-Alive, and Undervoted: Half Dead Local Becomes President, Voting Rights Hacked’”.

William Lancer nodding, “and I know his most recent excuse for ditching detention: ‘sorry I was busy getting arrested for being the president of the United States’”.

They eye each other and sigh, continuing non with their respective drinks and trying to have a little bit of peace for a bit.

End.

Prompts: - Danny learns how to possess inanimate objects. It’s all fun and games until he gets stuck… and People know Danny Fenton is half ghost but don’t know he’s Phantom. and When Valerie found herself stumbling into the first empty classroom she could find, bleeding and woozy, she did not expect to see a pair of shoes waltz up to her spot on the floor calmly. She was grateful they hadn’t started screaming, and looked up at her possible ally. When she saw who they were, she cursed her luck (and Phantom, too, for good measure). and People and ghosts in Amity (for whatever reason) find both Vlad and Plasmius to be attractive, so Vlad goes to Danny to help and help he does! (He makes everything worse, for Vlad that is) and Tucker fucked up. Hard. But it’s like, how the hell was he supposed to know that hacking the federal government was a bad idea? and Tucker commissions a very good artist to design Danny Phantom a fursona. and Danny decides Pariah is adopting him. Maybe Danny fell into the keep, and open the coffin out of curiosity. Upon seeing Pariah, Danny makes him ghost dad. Maybe to get Vlad off his case by having a scarier dad, but maybe cause pariah looks cool in the eyes of a teenager? Doesn't need to be Pariah redemption. and It’s annual Casper High April Fools Prank War. It’s a day friendships are broken and not even the teachers are safe. Dash, Wes and Danny talk about what did they do to get detention in a day that has no laws. and Danny commits harmless poltergeist mischief (read: cat behavior) around the town, or is otherwise an absolute Creature. and Danny finds out Vlad knows Russian. How? Well, Vlad swore in his native langue not realizing that Danny has been slowly teaching himself Russian (so he’s that much more ready to be on the ISS) and he started with the swears because he’s a teenager. and Everyone knows that cats go crazy for laser-pointers- but what do ya know, they work on ghosts too! and For two men who share similar names, that wasn't what Mr. Lancer and Lance Thunder connected over. There is Amity and there are ghosts and *they do not get paid enough for this shit*. (Share a rapport, friendship, relationship, whatever, go for it) and “Oops”

[nervouscloudtheorist]

April 11th 2024

Dear Diary,

I must be really good at gardening now because when I woke up this morning and looked at my rose garden and saw that I now have pink roses!! I wonder if there will be other colors. I must try to get them all.

Also a new person moved into to town. I haven't met them yet since I am reading up on gardening but Isabelle mentioned that their name is Kitt. I wonder what kind of person they are. I will make sure that I meet them tomorrow. Maybe I will show them my rose garden!

I think Clay may have lied to me also because I have not been able to find a single Gyroid. Either they are harder to find than fossils or they do not exist. I don't want to think Clay would lie to me but I worry since he seems to still struggle with my name. Everyone else seems to have grasped it. I don't even think my name is that complicated. It's only like 4 letters. F-I-N-N finn. I'm starting to wonder, is Clay really even my friend? I shouldn't think like that though, after all I was the one who moved into his town. I'm the stranger here really. Isabelle says that I should just give him presents to try to help him remember. but I feel like I shouldn't have to do that.

I'm getting distracted.

Anyways I did my daily shopping and bought a new washer/dryer combo and a classic couch from Tommy! It was shortly after buying them though, I realized that my house was much too small for those things and I had to put them up for sale at Re-Tail. I don't think I mentioned it but Reese allows me to go and sell items in her store as well. Like she won't just buy them from me but instead the townspeople can buy it from her on my behalf and she will just give me the money. This works really well for me cause then I don't have to keep an eye on them myself.

Sable's Clothing didn't really have anything for sale. I am really worried I'm going to be stuck wearing Khakis for a while and while they are good for my Mayoral look, they are not flattering on me at all. The fact that I am wearing a parka and a bunny hood with it does not help either. If only we had like a more fashionable shop where I could get the latest fashions. But that's going to be a long shot to get in this town since it seems like it's been neglected for a while.

I also decided tonight that I was going to take Tortimer up on his offer and go to the Island. I inivted Isabelle to go with me since I really didn't want to go alone but she said she had too many things to catch up on and a lot of paperwork to do. I don't know if that's really the truth because I don't personally have anything to do in this town but maybe that's because she does all the behind the scenes work? I dunno. Regardless I was going to Tortimer's island alone. I went to the dock where Tortimer told me that a boat would be starting today and there was a boat and a Kappa.

I had never seen a Kappa in real life so to say I was shocked would be an understatement. He told me that his name was Kapp'n and that he would take me to the island for a round-trip fee of 1,000 bells. I wish Tortimer would have told me this when he was telling me about the island because that is a steep price to play when I don't have a reliable income.

I paid the fee, mostly because I wanted to see the big deal about the island, and got on the boat. Kapp'n sung the entire time and between us, he's really bad at it. His songs were good but his voice just was not appealing to me. I guess it is good that he is enjoying himself though so I kept my thoughts to myself and just let him sing his heart out.

It was really really warm on the island. Tortimer was not lying when he said that it was a tropical island. They also had mangoes and coconuts all over! I wanted to take some home but got worried because I could really only carry so much in my hands. There was a nice lady there who I could only assume was Kapp'n's wife. She was really sweet and let me know that there was a box I could put all my things from the Island in and that Kapp'n would make sure that they got shipped to the town. I think the entire resort is run by Kapp'n's family which is really sweet. I wish that I was still around my family...

I also learned that this place doesn't take bells either and that I have to earn medals from doing island tours before they will sell me anything. Between the medals and meow coupons I feel like the 3 places should just have the universal bell currency but I suppose to each their own.

Anyways I spent a long time on the island fishing and catching exotic bugs. Probably too much time honestly, because I am too tired to continue on so I will call this a night.

Goodnight!

-Finn

[mrminority]

Batman: The Nightmare’s Cry 07/19/23-07/21 /23

Gotham was a city plastered with pictures of the Gotham elite. The mayor, the socialites, the billionaires. They’re what the world sees when someone queries them about Gotham, its beauty. They were the cherry on top of a city littered with gang violence and nonstop carnage. It wasn’t a city to make change in. No social worker from Metropolis was going to undo decades of corruption and fix the broken system, not in the city of fear. Fear was all that Lee Kitt felt as he approached the home of a demon.

As he took careful, quiet steps up the broken stairs, he looked on at the nest of evil threatening his home. Save for a lone street light, the house was draped in darkness, the blackness almost leaking out of the windows. The roof was pummeled with holes, left by any assortment of villains that laid waste to Gotham throughout the years.

Lee knew this house. One of the kids that was a part of his program was living here. His name was Marvin and he used to pay off his grandmother’s medical bills by running favors for the local gang. Batman caught him and his friends attempting to rob an ATM before sending them to Gotham Youth, where Lee took care of them. He hoped Marvin and his grandmother made it out okay.

It wasn’t the best place to live, but like many in Gotham, there was no other choice. Only two bedrooms, one bathroom, a kitchen, and a dirt yard. Notably, there were only two doors, straight across from each other. You could toss a basketball through the entrance and it would come out the exit. It was a regular ol’ shotgun house.

A roar echoed through the old home. Lee hugged the walls, clutching his gun tightly to his chest. These monsters were unlike anything he had ever seen. He could still remember when he first laid eyes on them when they descended upon the outreach center like a plague. First, there was a thick brown smoke, laced with hellfire. It engulfed the entire building and soon the monsters would as well.

Demons with ember eyes and ash skin crawled out of the walls and attacked the staff. They were ruthless, pouncing on anyone they came across. They would claw at people’s faces, gnaw at their necks, or just smash their heads against the floor. Lee and a few others managed to escape, leaving many behind to their doom.

As soon as he escaped, Lee raced home. He needed to protect his family. His wife. His daughter. He had to get to them. He had to. Before they did.

Once he arrived, he grabbed a handgun from the car’s console and rushed to the door. Before he could even turn the handle, he heard the cry of a demon behind him. He whirled around, the demon gazing upon him with its soulless stare. Drawing his gun out, the demon let out a scream.

WHRAA ARGH YARGH DARGH!

It fled to Marvin’s house, hiding from him. That monster wasn’t going to hurt Lee’s wife. His child. He would make sure of that.

So he stood by, gun in hand and gathering the courage to enter what would surely be someone’s grave. Quivering with fear, he let out a guttural cry before firing through the door, not letting go of the trigger until the gun stopped firing.

He leaned against the porch fence, taking in a deep breath. He wasn’t sure he got it, and he didn’t want to go in check. But he had to. Inhaling a sharp breath, Lee burst through the door, quickly scanning the room. The darkness shed slightly as the Gotham night lights shone through the busted door. Lee still couldn’t see the body.

Reaching for his phone, Lee turned on his flashlight and searched the small room. Lee rubbed his eyes, unsure of what he was seeing. Fire seemed to lick the corners and scratches littered the walls, but these hellish features of the old home flickered like the very fire plaguing Gotham. One moment, the house would seem normal, and the next a nightmare.

The demon had to be alive. It had to be. That he was certain of. It was the only explanation. It was the only thing to fear. All Lee had to do was kill it and the nightmare would be over.

A creak in the floorboards snapped Lee out of his delirium. The demon was his focus, and it lurked upstairs. Cautiously, Lee advanced the steps, tucking his phone into his shirt pocket, lighting the way. His fingers clenched his firearm in a vice grip as he prepared to turn into the corner and end it once and for all.

With another guttural cry, Lee stepped from the stairs and let out one shot before being tackled to the ground. His phone slipped from his pocket, landing with a CRACK. The light flickered on and off, always showing Lee’s nightmare for an instant. A vivid reminder.

The demon was on top of him, its gaping maw oozing the same black filth the house was coated in. Its ember eyes gazed into his soul as it pinned one arm and slammed the other repeatedly into the ground, slamming it harder and harder until the gun was cluttered to the floor.

Then the barrage came. The demon's fists pummeled him, hitting him from the sides, across his fist, into his chest. It was relentless, no target in mind, its only goal being to damage. To harm. To kill.

As the demon beat him, it laughed in its demonic tongue, a garble of incoherent sounds and vowels, but Lee could distinctly hear one word: his name. Over and over, it would say his name, taunting him as it beat him over and over, each punch coming harder than the last.

Lee! Punch. Lee! Punch. Lee! Punch.

His eyes swimming in a hazy blackness, Lee reached for the gun, his hand feebly crawling towards it. The demon noticed and knocked the gun further back, continuing its assault. As laughed his name over and over, Lee thought of his family. His wife and daughter were right across the street. The demon had followed him home. It knew his name. It knew his family. He couldn’t let it get to them. What kind of man would he be to let his family die?

With a concoction of blind rage and sheer terror, Lee raised his hands and plunged his thumbs into its eyes. The demon screamed and tried to pull back, but Lee gripped the back of its head and sunk them in, crushing them like grapes in a bowl. The black from its mouth bled out the holes where its eyes used to be and as it wailed, Lee threw it back and dove for the gun.

He turned to fire, only to find the bullets had fallen out of the weapon’s cylinder. As the demon writhed on the floor, Lee hurriedly dug through his pockets. It had heard the click of the empty gun, so the demon started to swing wildly, hissing Lee! Lee! WHRAA ARGH YARGH DARGH!

Its swings got closer and closer as Lee finally found a bullet and loaded it into the gun. Hearing the magazine being loaded in, the demon wildly lunged forward. Lee closed his eyes and fired.

Lee opened them once he heard the thud against the floorboards. The demon was dead before his very eyes. Sinking to his knees, Lee wept, trying to collect himself, but his breathing went haggard. His heart still pounded his chest. The hairs at the back of his neck were pricked up. Something was still wrong.

The dim blue light of Lee’s phone was then dwarfed by an orange glow. Lee, still locked into place, tracked it, his eyes making their way to the window and over to the neighboring roof. Another demon stood atop the home. It had the same ash skin and fiery eyes, but its figure was leaner, unnaturally thin, almost as if there was no muscle around its spine, just skin. Large pointed ears were perched atop its head and fire branded its chest: a burning symbol of a bat.

Lee screamed as the new demon spread its leathery wings and began to take flight. Lee ran out of the house, fear an engine for his beaten and weary body. He made sure to load his gun before diving through the window of his own home. Without notice to the cuts that littered his arms and face, Lee struggled to his feet and ran upstairs, calling the names of his wife and daughter.

They didn’t answer back. An unholy laughter echoed around him, the jeers and taunts of hell itself singing merrily as the church choir. Instead of seeing his family, two more demons revealed themselves on top of the stairs. One of them hid behind the other, a little gremlin creature smaller than the rest, but a face of evil like all of its brethren.

Lee drew his gun.

WHRAA ARGH YARGH DARGH!

Before he could fire, a hand shot out from the darkness, clutching his gun and forcing it upwards so the shots went through the ceiling. The winged demon grabbed him by the shoulders, its hellish eyes burning through his soul with contempt. The last thing Lee saw was its fist flying toward his face.

—

When Lee came to, he found himself in hell. Gone was his neighborhood. Gone was Gotham. He was trapped in hell, locked in a cage, and surrounded by fire. He had been taken and his warden approached him.

“Stay back! STAY BACK!” Lee screamed, eyes wide in fear as the winged demon slowly walked towards him.

“LEAVE ME ALONE! LEAVE MY FAMILY ALONE”

The winged demon stopped in front of his cage. The fire in its eyes flickered as it stood watching him. The demon opened its mouth to speak. Like before, all heard was taunting his name.

His family name and laughter raced through his mind. This couldn’t be how it ends. This wasn’t right. All he ever wanted to do was help people. He’d never hurt anyone. What had he done to deserve this fate?

Suddenly, a green mist was dispersed above him. As it spread throughout his cell, it peppered his bruised face and fell on his clothes. Lee’s heartbeat steadied. His legs no longer felt ready to run, buckling under the weight of him. His breathing slowed down.

Lee leaned against the glass door of his cell, the hellish landscape plaguing his mind slowly falling apart. As hell disappeared around him, Lee found the Batman standing before him.

“Batman?” he asked, astonished. “What happened?”

“You and many others were subject to Scarecrow’s fear toxin. I managed to create a chemical agent that would counteract his latest batch. Everything should be alright now. I’m going to keep you here until I make sure the toxin’s effects have dispersed.”

“My family!” Lee realized, rising to his feet. “My family Batman! Are they okay?”

“Your family is safe Lee. I was able to save them.”

“Who?” he asked, pounding on the cell. “Who went after my family?”

Batman hung his head. Not answering him, Lee once again pounded against the glass. “Who!” he demanded

“It was you.”

Lee stopped hitting his cell, stepping back. “What?”

“I don’t know what you saw Lee, but Crane’s fear toxin induces vivid hallucinations in its victims. It’s not your fault, but Lee, you were about to shoot your wife.”

“No, no I would never hurt her. I would never hurt anyone, I swear!”

It had all felt so real. He had felt the heat of the fire in hell. He had bruises from his encounter with the demon in Marvin’s house. He saw their monstrous visages up close. What had happened? No, it couldn’t be.

“Batman. In the house across from mine. There lived a boy named Marvin. Is he —”

A vigilante in one of the most crime-ridden cities on the planet. A man who patrolled the night. A hero who faced gods and monsters. The hero’s stoic expression fell as Lee saw pity in Batman’s eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Lee's eyes widened in realization. He fell to the floor, bawling. As he wailed in anguish, thoughts of Marvin played in his mind’s eye. He was a good kid. He turned his life around. He was going to do great things.

As he lay on the floor, the demon’s roar echoed through his mind.

WHRAA ARGH YARGH DARGH!

What are you doing?

Note: If I wrote this again, it would be in third-person omniscient rather than third-person limited.

[oflostinfound]

👀 Undercover AU (maybe?)

Possible AUs Send one of the following emojis, and I will give you one idea (or more) for our muses to interact in this setting

In this AU Eath has been recruited as an assistant investigator after she was discovered at the tail end of the local agency's murder investigation. Having already found the body of the victim on the property of the suspect with clear evidence linking them to the crime, though perhaps not in the best circumstances to be found in as she was in the middle of digging it up-

Finding such powers useful, they brought her in, blackmailed offered her a temporary job, and quickly found a use for her. She was to be partnered with Kitt on another murder mystery case, with Kitt's skills in thievery and tinkering having also been found useful to the agency. They never told the team that they needed to find the evidence legally after all- especially since they weren't officially linked with them.

Now the team is undercover, trying to solve the case of the murdered daughter of the mayor of some town which just so happened to fall on the same day some artifacts were stolen from a museum. Working both in the mayor's lavish abode and in the museum to look for clues and figure out what happened.

Wherever Eath goes Hax is generally there too, and being seven feet tall and pretty willing to get into a fistfight, they're at first considered the muscle (even though Eath herself is considered stronger) but later quickly become more of the face due to their people skills. All the while trying to find a way to pull one over on the agency for blackmailing their sister best friend.

[xgosiamx]

Playlist: Christmas Again

The Pussycat Dolls : Santa Baby The Waitresses : Christmas Wrapping Faith Hill : Where are you Christmas? TLC : Sleigh Ride Boyz II Men : Let It Snow The Temptations : Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer B.B. King : Merry Christmas Baby Stevie Wonder : Someday At Christmas The Whispers : This Christmas Sounds Of Blackness : Soul Holidays Alexander O'neal : My Gift To You Lady Gaga : Christmas Tree Rihanna : I Just Don't Feel Like Christmas Without You Carole King : This Christmas Elvis Presley : I'll Be Home For Christmas Bright Eyes : Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas Florence + the machine : Last christmas The Raveonettes : Come On Santa Low : Just Like Christmas Julian Casablancas : I Wish It Was Christmas Today The Yeah Yeah Yeahs : All I Want for Christmas Frank Sinatra : Christmas Dreaming Ella Fitzgerald : Santa Claus Got Stuck In My Chimney Peggy Lee : The Christmas Spell Lita Roza : The Little Boy That Santa Claus Forgot Perry Como : I'll Be Home For Christmas Dinah Shore : The Twelve Days Of Christmas Jimmy Boyd : I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus Eartha Kitt : Santa Baby Bob Dylan : Must Be Santa Andy Williams : It's The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year Marina And The Diamonds : Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas Amy Winehouse : I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus Bette Midler : Cool Yule Willie Nelson : Frosty The Snowman John Denver : Rudolph The Red Nosed Reindeer The Great British Barbershop Boys : Let it Snow Mel Tormé : The Christmas Song Johnny Mathis : When a Child is Born Whitney Houston : The First Noel Dido : Christmas Day Cyndi Lauper : Early Christmas Morning Shakin' Stevens : Rockin' Little Christmas Michael Bolton : White Christmas Jim Reeves : C.H.R.I.S.T.M.A.S. Roy Orbison : Pretty Paper Dolly Parton : We Three Kings Bobby Vinton : Kissin' Christmas Perry Como ft. Fontane Sisters : It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas Aretha Franklin : Joy To The World Johnny Cash : The Little Drummer Boy ROGER WHITTAKER : DING DONG MERRILY ON HIGH Vic Damone : Deck The Halls Duke Ellington Orchestra : Jingle Bells Harry Nilsson : Remember Christmas Greg Lake : I Believe in Father Christmas Il Divo : The Power Of Love (La Fuerza Mayor) Monica : My Grown-Up Christmas List Toni Braxton : Holiday Celebrate

[jaketapper]

Remarks to the Canadian Journalism Foundation

Last night I was honored with the Tribute at the Canadian Journalism Foundation awards in Toronto, Canada. Below are my prepared remarks; I deviated from the text slightly and tried to make edits below to better reflect what I said.

I want to thank the CJF and more specifically the Gala Committee - David Walmsley, Maureen Shaughnessy Kitts and Natalie Turvey - for selecting me for this tribute.

I would also like to thank Peter Mansbridge for those lovely remarks and more importantly for his decades at the CBC, serving as a beacon for anchors across the continent, speaking truth to power, and calm to panic. I know this nation has come to depend on you to guide it through times of difficulty and joy, and I know she will miss your nightly presence.

It is such an honor to receive this award, especially as someone who isn’t Canadian, someone born in New York and raised in Philadelphia. I was seven during the American Bicentennial in Philadelphia, the heart of American democracy, so it was interesting when a few years ago i began doing some genealogical research and discovered that many of my ancestors, the Huffs, fought in the Revolutionary War. The surprise was that they fought for the British and then fled to Canada. They continued to fight on your side in the war of 1812. This was of course something of a rude awakening for a Philly boy.

Of course i knew of my Canadian roots -- My mother was born in Ottawa, and came to the U.S. with her family when she was 7. My grandfather Everett Palmatier fought with the Royal Canadian Navy during World War II serving on the HMCS Cobalt, a Flower-class corvette that participated in escorting convoys in the Atlantic. My grandmother Helen worked as a confidential secretary for the Canadian government. My great uncle Edwin Palmatier, a tailgunner, was shot down and killed by the Luftwaffe in that war. There is a lake named after him in this country. In January 1917, one hundred years ago, my great great grandfather David Dyson, a pickle and vinegar merchant was the mayor of Winnipeg -- for four days. He lost the recount.

Now, if I were Tom I would make a joke about how Peter Mansbridge covered that recount. But I am not so I will not.

Grammie and Grampie and Uncle Edwin and David Dyson are no longer with us, but i brought my mother here tonight and I want to take a moment to honor her for not only having been a loving and selfless mother but for having instilled in me concepts of compassion and decency that i hope have shaped the way i live and also how i perceive my responsibility as a journalist. Thank you, Mom. I love you.

I would also be remiss if i did not take a moment to thank another great son of Canada, a mentor to so many of us who had the pleasure of working with him, my former boss at ABC news, the late great Peter Jennings. Peter was a tireless and fearless and obstinate boss. And he taught me so much and the world, and the world of journalism, is lesser for his passing.

As for this award...just looking at the list of prior honorees -- Tina Brown and Sir Harold Evans, Malcolm Gladwell, Robert MacNeill, Morley Safer and Graydon Carter -- that is pretty august company. Though the ones who mean the most to me are the 2012 posthumous tribute to Jennings and the man who did more to make me a journalist than anyone else, the late great David Carr, honored in 2013. I like to think somewhere David and Peter are watching this presentation, frustrated that they can’t break through and criticize me and make sure that i’m not letting anything go to my head. Don’t worry guys, I got the lesson. You taught me well.

And of course as well all know, people like Peter and myself get the attention, but journalism is truly a team effort. From the lowest level intern to the highest executive, I couldn’t do what I do without everyone at CNN. Everyone in this room knows what a team effort journalism is. Three from my team are here -- Jessica Stanton, John Robinson, and Lauren Pratapas -- and without them and without the leadership of my boss Jeff Zucker, as well as John Martin and Jeff Bewkes, none of this would be possible.

In three days I’ll be giving my first commencement address ever, at my alma mater, Dartmouth College in New Hampshire, and Ive been thinking a lot about what then President Eisenhower told students in the 1953 commencement:

He said: “Don't join the book burners. Don't think you are going to conceal faults by concealing evidence that they ever existed. … How will we defeat communism unless we know what it is, and what it teaches, and why does it have such an appeal for men, why are so many people swearing allegiance to it?...And we have got to fight it with something better, not try to conceal the thinking of our own people. They are part of America. And even if they think ideas that are contrary to ours, their right to say them, their right to record them, and their right to have them at places where they are accessible to others is unquestioned, or it isn't America.”

This was Eisenhower talking about communism during the Cold War and the Red Scare -- and he was arguing that the Communists should come out and engage in the battle place of ideas and we should welcome them

That battleplace of ideas is something I think about a lot

Especially when liberals tell me not to put Republicans or Trump supporters on my shows. Using Ike’s words, I ask them, How will you win an election against Trump and Trumpism unless you know what it is, and what it teaches, to paraphrase Ike, and why does it have such an appeal for men, why are so many people swearing allegiance to it?

And for those in journalism who do not understand the appeal of President Trump to 62,979,636 Americans, it is also important to try to understand the phenomenon so many of us failed to see coming. If you strip away the falsehoods and the bigotry and the occasional indecencies -- more on them later -- but if you strip those away there are propositions that are completely legitimate -- fixing a broken system in Washington, making sure the elites and the government do more to protect American jobs and lives and livelihoods. We in the media need to rise to the moment and allow these disrupting debates to happen, and let the best ideas win.

But all that said, I am concerned about the weapons being deployed by the president and forces allegiant to him in this battlefield. I am concerned about the lies and smears, I am concerned about the moments of indecency, and for this audience especially I am referring of course to his calling stories he doesn’t like -- ones that are entirely 100% accurate -- “fake news,” and thus successfully undermining the 4th estate with a large segment of the population.

On January 12, a team of reporters including me, Jim Sciutto, Evan Perez, and Carl Bernstein reported the following: “Classified documents presented last week to President Obama and President-elect Trump included allegations that Russian operatives claim to have compromising personal and financial information about Mr. Trump, multiple US officials with direct knowledge of the briefings tell CNN. The allegations were presented in a two-page synopsis that was appended to a report on Russian interference in the 2016 election.” It went on from there.

There is not one word of this story that is not accurate. And yet this is the story President Trump used to first attack CNN as “fake news.” A term that used to refer to actual fake stories -- The Daily Show with Jon Stewart or more recently the such as the nonsense that there was a Satanic pedophilia ring linked to a pizzeria in Washington, D.C. with ties to the Hillary Clinton campaign. Now it stands for stories the president does not like.

And he does not like a lot of them. And while yes there have been some minor media missteps almost all of the stories he’s called fake news have been proven to be true.

Every politician lies. Hillary Clinton falsely claimed FBI “Director Comey said my answers were truthful.” Barack Obama claimed if you like your doctor you can keep your doctor.

But the sheer number of falsehoods and factual flip-flops coming from this White House is staggering. NATO is obsolete, now it isn’t. Jobless numbers are bogus, now they’re real.

And what’s worse we have a situation now where prevarications are not only supported by the administration and its allies in the media but by an entire dark Army of twitter trolls and meme creators here and abroad who work to undermine the work and reputations of those who either oppose the president and his policies within the party or Congress or those of us in the media who are attempting to provide basic non partisan guidance on what is going on while trying to uphold basic facts and decency.

The great discomfort here for Americans is we want our leaders to be credible. The great discomfort for journalists is that if a president declares war on truth, those who try to stand by truth and defend her are then labeled partisans, or biased.

We are not supposed to be fighters on the battlefield. We are not the opposition to President Trump, we are not the resistance.

We all are trying to figure out the way to cover this new world where fact and decency often seems to mean so little. And I do think that we as journalists need to defend truth and decency.

But I also think that too many journalists sometimes allow themselves to get swept up and we cannot have that, we cannot have a world where we act like the opposition. We in the 4th estate must rise to the occasion of this challenge. And by that I don’t only mean that we work harder than ever to avoid the kinds of mistakes that undermine our profession by avoiding stories that get key facts wrong, but that we also refrain from sharing every emotion the moment we experience it on twitter. And that we consider the low regard many members of the public have for us, and that we work hard to be fair to all points of view -- even the side whose members are attacking us and attempting to undermine us -- the policies they advocate, not the attacks.

And let me say a word about those attempts to undermine. Tom Friedman writes in his new book Thank You For Being Late about the advances of technology compared to the human ability to adapt to these changes. The chart of technology looks like this…..the chart of our ability to adapt to technology looks like this. We are way behind as a society where technology is -- i recently read that the average smartphone is millions of times more powerful than all of NASA’s combined computing in 1969

So what does that mean? It means that when your Uncle shared a website called the Denver Guardian -- and a story headlined “FBI Agent Suspected in Hillary Email Leaks Found Dead” -- and spreads the story using on Facebook -- he has no idea what’s going on. His sophistication is here on the chart. The technology is here.

I have seen US Senators and US Members of the House -- and I know no one would do this in your Parliament -- but members of the U.S. House and Senate have invoked websites I do not consider to be credible -- not just on the right but on the left. Recently after Republican Congressman Jason Chaffetz of Utah announced he would be leaving Congress, Congresswoman Maxine Waters -- a Democrat of California recently lionized by the left -- went on MSNBC and said of him “There are those who think that he in some ways, have some connections to what is going on in the...Ukraine and perhaps in Russia itself, and knows something about all of this. I don’t really know. I can’t say, but he’s strange in the way that he’s conducting himself...Maybe [Chaffetz] thinks that if he rolls out and points to the fact that something is going on with Flynn ... that somehow this will raise [Chaffetz] above maybe what connections he may have with the Kremlin, we need to keep an eye on him.”

This is crazy; it’s madness. And to point out that this is going on on the Left is not to promote a false equivalence with the fact that it is going on at a much greater scale from a much larger platform on the right. 

But lies are lies. Irresponsible fact-free speculation does not become less irresponsible because of a conspiracy peddler’s political affiliation or gender or anything else.

I did not become a journalist to be a fact-checker or a truth-squadder, i became a journalist to hold people in power accountable, to try to tell stories other journalists weren’t telling, and to try to have serious discussions about the way policies impact people’s lives. Probably why a lot of people in this room became journalists.

I did not become a journalist to become a meme or to watch a younger far better looking man portray me on Saturday Night Live, although thanks for that.  But there is a lot of attention on us today as the fourth estate finds itself trying to stand up for basic standards of decency and truth.

And while it is important that we not take the bait and become the opposition that Trump and Bannon would like to cast us as -- thus de-legitimizing ourselves -- it is also important that we not sway the other direction. We cannot pretend that lies don’t need to be called out. We cannot shrug and talk about how a politician’s supporters don’t care about behavior that empirically is offensive. We cannot lower the standards that we as a society hold just for access to big name interviews. We have to be able to look our children in the eyes. We cannot not lower our standards because of attrition and exhaustion or because colleagues are making other decisions, or because Fox, Breitbart and online trolls will lie about us otherwise. 

This is a time for all of us in the 4th estate and indeed all of us in North America s to stand up for what we know is right. Objectivity. Truth. Decency. Facts.

My late grandmother, Helen McDowell Palmatier, born 101 years ago in Winnipeg, was an expert on Sir Winston Churchill, so with your permission I would like to end these remarks by quoting him.

Churchill once said: “A free press is the unsleeping guardian of every other right that free men prize; it is the most dangerous foe of tyranny… Under dictatorship the press is bound to languish…But where free institutions are indigenous to the soil and men have the habit of liberty, the press will continue to be the Fourth Estate, the vigilant guardian of the rights of the ordinary citizen.”

Thank you for this honor.