#right when I’m drawing a comic about detective

[okamixxiii]

Okay very funny Spotify

[cagednoob]

Aight I never mentioned this- but I did finish Tales of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and overall… 👍 it was pretty good?

More under the cut that are obviously spoilers.

Now it being a story made up by the turtles is a pretty good idea tbh?? It kind of took me by surprise, but I can appreciate it a lot. And also it was relatable to see Leo sitting in bed drawing the comic (was there so much as a kid).

And this reason is why I can excuse some clunkiness of some of the plot moments.

My one complaint about it is it feels like the boys kept their brothers too in character? If that makes sense LMAO. Idk anytime I wrote about my brother as a kid no doubt I bastardized his personality.

But to be fair… they did grow up only knowing eachother for their entire lives until this point. Which probably did help them keep them in character. The others (such as Ray, Wingwave, Leatherhead, Stunkbug) I can just wave off since we don’t really see them a lot in the movie already.

Now the one thing that did throw me off… Where is Bebop and Rocksteady?? And Mondo?? The duo seem to be implied to have left or gone rogue in someway since Donnie (?) asked if they were on a rampage. But idk! Just a weird thing I noticed and couldn’t get outta my head.

-

The animation is stellar, and the designs of the new guys were fun for me. A couple of times I rewinded it just to watch a scene again and the East River Three probably had my favorite designs that were introduced (Mustang Sally and Lee my beloveds) and the Anemenies were also super cool since I don’t think we’d seen coral mutants so far in any iteration?

Pigeon Pete is ok, I think he gets his point of being the new comic relief tbh. I had fun watching his scenes (until the detective scene). I think having him talk made him worse for me somehow lol. And Metalhead (rip little guy) was very cute which surprised me as I’m typically not the biggest fan of robots.

I have no idea if these characters are real btw. Pigeon Pete I’m leaning towards…. Maybe? Just because he is seen in both the Arcs.

But it presumably had to happen since Splinter learned how to talk after mutation. So eh. But also him speaking Vermin (or whatever it’s called) is funny to me.

Also the human designs look… a lot better in 2D LMAO. Which is understandable, but it was one of the FIRST things I noticed when the humans appeared.

-

Now stories, they’re ok. I thought it was clunky at some spots, but it’s teenagers making it up. So it gets a pass from me.

Now I think the first Arc (told by Leo) is better than the second Arc (told by Raph). HOWEVER… I enjoyed the characters introduced in Arc Two way more. They were just more enjoyable for me to watch, Sally and Lee especially and both their designs are sick af.

It could be that the first arc was advertised more maybe? Or it was simply I preferred the first arcs story more. I did however dig that each arc was a different turtle telling the story and if there is a season two I can only hope that Donnie and Mikey can tell a story.

-

Now for things I disliked (couldn’t find a redeeming thing) is….

The Purple Dragons, Rat King aaaand the random animal violence?????

So the Purple Dragons isn’t a big thing but I just didn’t care too much for how it was done. Teens telling stories aside, it just felt… not right for me. It felt weird making Angel the aggressive one and Hun the more docile one. Which I did grow to like these characters I just couldn’t put that out of my mind.

Idk might just be me

Now the Rat King reveal with it being Splinter (and sewer rats worshipping him). Nothing really, I just don’t like it LMAO. Idk as a kid I could get behind it, but now that I fully know the two as separate characters it doesn’t work.

Aaand finally the random animal violence-

This is a weird one for me and I started to notice it after Ralph’s episode in Arc 1. There is just?? Random bad things that happen to animals? Such as the zoo scene specifically (kind of), the chickens that get ran over in an attempt of a joke, cat hit by flood of water, another cat that Genghis kept almost eating, and probably more I can’t remember.

The last one especially was when it got to bothering me. Cause it was trying to make all of that kind of humorous and it just… wasn’t sitting with me. I’ve never been a fan of that humor, I never will be and it’s just weird how much of it was in twelve episodes. Which again I can maybe say “teen boy humor” but even then?? I don’t think I can here tbh gang. It’s just…. Yeah that doesn’t land well for me.

There’s probably more I can add later, but these are my thoughts at the current moment about it. It’s a good show, animation is great and the story can be clunky at times, but it’s got a reason for it. Designs are fun as well.

[roguestorm]

There’s a long history of Gothic stories when things that appear to be supernatural are revealed not to be, like The Mysteries of Udolpho and Jane Eyre. There’s also Gothic stories where things seem impossible but are explained as science, like Frankenstein or Jekyll and Hyde. Then there’s also Gothic stories like Dracula where there are actually vampires and they want to suck your blood.

This isn’t a complete list of types of Gothic stories. I might also list other Gothic or Gothic-influenced stories where the question of the supernatural is left unsettled - Turn of the Screw - or the weird fiction of writers like Lovecraft. These are, however, the three that I think about most in relation to Batman.

The first, where everything has a rational explanation, is what gives rise to the detective story. So we’ve got two subtypes here - one where the supernatural is raised as a possibility but is ultimately dismissed (closer to the Gothic story) and one where the supernatural isn’t even really an option (closer to the detective story).

One of the reasons I object to Duke having powers is that it closes off this type of story - the supernatural will always be present in the story because the hero has supernatural powers. (The other big reason is that it’s a disservice to Duke’s character. Since he’s had powers for over five years, I should probably be over this by now.)

The second, seemingly impossible things explained by science, is also pretty common in Batman comics. I’ve put Jekyll and Hyde in this category not because DID is impossible or doesn’t exist but because “a serum that causes you to physically transform into your evil self” doesn’t exist. Two-Face is obviously inspired by Jekyll and Hyde, and any backstory that involves people taking a bath in chemicals is probably going to fall into this category.

Now there’s a tricky question here, in distinguishing between the second and third categories: How much explanation do you need before something becomes explained by science rather than supernatural? What does it even mean for something to be supernatural? This is something you run into a lot when trying to draw a line between sci fi and fantasy, and there’s really no good answer. For my purposes, here, I’m gonna say that Poison Ivy’s pheromone powers fall in category two and her plant-controlling powers fall in category three. (Disclaimer: I will not be bound by this division in any other context. I reserve the right to consider Storm’s powers science fictional rather than fantastical.)

Calamity would be an example of a Batman character that falls very firmly into the supernatural category, as she is possessed by a ghost. This area isn’t as common as the first two for a Batman story, but it does happen.

I always feel, when writing Batman fics, that it’s important to know up front which of these categories it’s going to fall into. Any given Batman story can be in any of these categories, but for myself I really need clarity on what the rules of the story I’m writing are.

[bvannn]

Weekly Update January 26, 2024

I am still very sick. I just took my second increased dose of the medicine, hoping it will help. Whatever stomach issue I was having a bit ago appears to have returned as well, or it could be more side effects from the surgery. Or something else. I don’t know. I tried fasting on Wednesday and felt physically better but also guilty, and I don’t want to keep doing it because I know it’s dangerous. I’m still a healthy weight for my height so I can probably get away with doing it like, once a week, but I don’t want to accidentally lose too much weight either because I’m already a 22 year old adult who buys clothes in the kids section I don’t need to be any smaller. I’ll figure it out, I’m trying to focus what I am eating on fruits and nuts, hoping it’ll detox me a bit.

I did a couple drawings this week. Kinda. The one I posted was actually sketched back before the surgery I just hadn’t digitized it yet. I only posted the one drawing because I want to hold on to the other for a bit because it’s part of that epithet prompt set I made. I’m fully not expecting to do every one of those prompts, but I figured hey since I missed a few I can do a batch of the missed prompts and release them at once. I sketched the one for this week and planned on finishing it on Wednesday but I got sick again. Once I’m feeling better I’ll try to focus more on drawings. I think I gotta scrap the big animation project I was working on due to circumstances beyond my control, which sucks but theoretically I can try other animation things too. I’ve been sitting on an idea for a short Detective Conan animation, maybe I’ll do that. Or maybe I’ll stay sick. Idk. I kinda want to figure out how I would animate Shaun, since he’s a ghost so I’d have to deal with both transparency and glow effects, plus certain aspects of his design that were meant to be more flowy, like his shirt-tail-thing. I could poke after effects again but it seems a lot more tedious than I had hoped.

I did review over comic stuff this week too, although I haven’t made any progress since I really started getting the surgery after effects. I like how it’s flowing for the most part, but I’m probably going to have to do second drafts of a few pages. Kinda sucks that everything feels so rushed, since I want to fit the whole introductory chapter into ~32 pages, which I’m totally able to do but I have to hold off on some little dialogue exposition conversations that I think people would like. Any story with ghosts is going to have people wanting to fully understand how the ghosts physically work, especially when it becomes relevant, but some of that can be put off until later because character moments are more important. Whatever, I can always keep going.

I feel super bad about not being able to do anything but I’m still so screwed up. I want to take another stab at music, and maybe I will, but I need to sit upright to play piano which screws with my stomach, and in order to pick out VSTs I want on a song I need to be able to have a midi that resembles what the final will sound like and I need to be in the headspace to listen to music without going into sensory overload. I’m pretty sure all of this is sleep related, I have the weekend to hopefully catch up on sleep, but I need to do some homework as well. And I need to stop waking up in the middle of the night. I’m afraid to double dose on sleep medicine because even though I know it’s safe after 6 or so hours, I don’t want to be reliant on sleep medicine because that’s how Michael Jackson died. Might have to wait for my surgery bs to subside before I can try to detox though.

I don’t know what to do with myself right now. I feel awful, I feel like my insides are rotting, but I know they’re not since I’m not in pain from it (or at least not enough pain to really believe that). Plus surgeon looked at me before I moved back to Uni and seemed really impressed with how quickly I was healing. Even though I probably disobeyed her ‘don’t lift more than 20 pounds’ rule. Like a lot. I did feel better this week than I did last, so I’m hoping I can bounce back pretty quick. I’ll give it another week or two before I ask my primary if I need another medicine. I’m hesitant right now because both she and the surgeon seemed to agree beforehand that I wouldn’t, and I want to trust them. I don’t know. Time providing I’ll try to do more drawings this week.

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

Iteration - a Malevolent fic, chapter five

John has been poisoned. Who did it? Unknown. How can he be saved? If not for Arthur, he wouldn't.

The ripples from this event hit far distant shores, and no one will come out of it unchanged.

Part 100 of the Surrogate series.

AO3 - chapter five

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

Not-John was not okay,

Not only had he died, but could again, and now would allow no one near them,  howling and flailing his arm.

Arthur was trying so hard. He sat on his bed, holding a drawing from Sadie. Get well soon, it said, and had been delivered by Faroe.

It’s a bunch of people doing things, said Not-John sullenly.

“You can do better than that,” Arthur said, trying so hard to be patient.

Fine. There’s a man who looks like you, twisting in mid-throw of some kind of spear. There’s that shitty little girl—

“Watch it,” Arthur said, low. “Fucking attack me all you want, but Faroe is off-limits.”

Not-John touched the mark. Is that your official request, my own? he said, low and smug.

Arthur shivered. “It’s a godsdamned line in the sand, and you are pushing it.”

It was a button, is what it was, but Not-John knew to hold onto it for when it would count. Fine. The girl is there, riding on… I have no idea what that is.

“A baby Dark Young,” said Arthur.

No, it’s not. I remember what they look like. That’s not one of those.

Arthur blinked. “You remember that?”

Yes.

“But not fucking anything else?”

Not-John paused. I… recognize, which is different from remembering.

Arthur sighed. “All right. We can work with that. What else do you see?”

I don’t understand why we’re doing this.

“Because we—” Arthur had gotten sharp; he stopped and gentled his voice again. “Because we built a life together, John. I’m hoping eventually something will help you remember it.”

What life did we build?

Arthur sighed heavily. “A complicated one. There’s Faroe, and Nibbles, and Hastur. The Keeper.”

The Keeper?

In the mirrors, Arthur looked uneasy. “I’m not sure how to explain her. She’s an Outer God.”

An Outer God!

“She’s helping us.”

They don’t help people. Outer Gods bring chaos! Outer Gods bring death! Outer Gods bring carnage!

“Well, this one brings books,” said Arthur. “Oh! Maybe you’ll recognize the comic books. I haven’t had the chance to give them to Parker yet.”

Comic books? said John as though the concept were absurd.

“Yes! Comic books, where the stories are all drawn in… in pictures! With Dick Tracy! You liked them before. They’re about a detective.”

Not-John was silent for a long enough moment that Arthur grew concerned.

“John?”

I give up. Why do we want to look at dick tracing?

Arthur choked.

And with incredible timing, there came a knock at the door.

Go away! shouted Not-John.

“Be more mature than that,” said Arthur.

No! I died! I don’t have to be anything!

Arthur sighed. He caught Not-John’s hand and held it. “Listen to me. You’re not dead now.”

I was, though! And you’re frail! Mortal! It could happen again!

“I”m not letting you die,” Arthur said softly. “I’m not letting you drown. I’m with you, John. I’ve got you.”

And that should not have brought the comfort it did.

This was a mortal man, a blind one, a ridiculously willful one. He was skinny and stubborn and covered in scars, and didn’t know his place to such a degree that he almost seemed insane.

And yet those words brought comfort.

John’s hand twitched in Arthur’s. Slowly, he returned that grip. You’re an idiot, he finally said.

Arthur rolled his eyes and headed toward the door. “Who’s there?”

“Hey,” said Parker on the other side. “Got a minute?”

And Not-John saw the way Arthur’s shoulders relaxed, saw the way his lips quirked in that soft, near-secret smile, and so help him, he almost threw a fit. His. This was his. Who the fuck was this, showing up without any kind of permission to—

Arthur opened the door.

"Hey," Parker said with obvious relief. "You're up. It's real good to see you up, English."

Not-John stared. Who was this motherfucker?

"Parker," Arthur sighed, and there was such relief in his voice and his expression that Not-John growled.

The other man looked a bit taken aback. (Which did nothing to make him less handsome, and that was a personal offense.)

Well that's just uncalled for, said the tiny golden piece inside this man, the tiny piece that felt exactly like him.

Not-John startled again, far worse this time. What? What is that?

“Moving on,” said Parker, who clearly didn’t find that growling as terrifying as he should. “You feeling any better?”

“I’ve stopped throwing up,” said Arthur. “I don’t… know what you were told.”

“We heard some fucker—”

What is that? Not-John repeated, and his left hand flew to the door to slam it shut.

This man—this Parker—stopped it easily (familiar with his own, handsome, and strong? Oh, no, no, no, this was not allowed). “The fuck, John?”

“He doesn’t know who he is.” And oh gods, Arthur was crying again, crying with this person, and in front of (what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck) that little tiny reflection of godhood. “He’s lost his memory.”

“Oh, shit,” said Parker. “Hey, take it easy, there. It’s gonna be okay.”

The tiny little golden bit sounded horrified. Oh… oh, no. No, no, no. Parker… Parker, he…

“Easy. I  think we’re all a little different than we were,” said this Parker, which made no sense, and caressed his jaw.

Not-John tried to close the door again.

“John, stop it!” Arthur snapped, and stepped away from it. “Come in, you two. I’m sorry, I… I’m trying to help him.”

Help him? said the golden bit as if suspicious.. Are you really? Your help can be… He stopped. I’m sorry.

“No, it… it’s warranted,” said Arthur, gaze down. “After what I did to you…”

They all had shared history, these three, and Not-John wasn’t part of it, and he couldn’t handle that right now. Leave! he commanded.

There was a pause.

“Nuh-uh,” said Parker.

Arthur looked like he was trying not to laugh, and that did not help.

Not-John snarled, a sound that went with bared teeth and flailing tentacles. I am god here and you will go!

Another pause. And again, this Parker defied him with complete dismissal of who and what he was. “Naw.”

Parker, whispered that bit that had no right to look like him, however tiny. He doesn’t know who he—

I AM THE KING IN YELLOW, AND YOU WILL OBEY ME! Not-John bellowed at the top of his lungs.

So am I, you fucking buffoon! the tiny piece yelled back.

Not-John gawked at him.

Arthur Arthur winced as though that hurt him. Of course it did; Not-John’s anger made him hot against Arthur’s seams, straining mortal limits. “Let’s, um. Let’s try to, um.”

“How about some good old-fashioned introductions?” said Parker, and began pointing. “I’m Parker. Arthur, you know. Sunny’s in here.” At his own head. “You’re John. You and Sunny, you’re both parts of the King in Yellow.”

Both parts? Both? No, that was his designation! Fuck you! Not-John decried.

Parker sighed, closing the door behind them so they’d have some privacy. “Guessin’ he wants to rejoin Hastur, too, huh?”

“He’s never rejoining,” Arthur snapped.

"Hold on, pal, I’m not saying he will,” Parker soothed. “Just establishing facts."

Rejoining! Not-John scoffed. Why would I want to? I need my own body, not someone else’s.

Your… your own? said Sunny.

“He doesn’t believe me that he doesn’t have one,” said Arthur evenly.

Oh, said Sunny quietly, and then evidently rallied. So he’s an idiot.

“Not helping,” said Parker, but his lips quirked.

You’re right. We’re going about this all wrong, said Sunny, whose voice had gone soothing (and it was his voice and what right did this pebble have to—) Have you tried playing any music yet, Arthur?

“No, not yet.”

“Maybe you should,” said Parker. “Though that shot Sunny like outta you a cannon before, so maybe not?”

"That’s why I don’t know if I dare risk it," Arthur said fervently. "I can’t lose him.”

It brought him back when we were in Addison, Sunny said, so quietly. It's worth a shot.

Be quiet, you fucking little sliver, Not-John snapped. Arthur plays music on my command, not yours.

Arthur rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry about him. John, you didn’t even know I made music.”

A pause.

Well, I do now, and it’s all mine! Not-John declared.

“Been like this since he woke up?” said Parker.

“Yeah,” said Arthur.

The tiny, insulting sliver of a god trembled. Parker…

“We won’t keep you,” Parker said evenly. “All right? We just got a few questions.”

Arthur looked up. That smile—oh, that smile, it hurt, it was knowing and comfortable, and it suited him so well. “What, you’re on the case?”

“Yeah, actually.” Parker didn’t smile. “Sunny and me are gonna get to the bottom of who tried to kill you.”

And Arthur took a slow breath. “The Keeper said it wasn’t aimed at me.”

They all took that in.

What? said Not-John.

“Huh,” said Parker. “That kinda… changes shit. There’s been no threatening notes, or nothing?”

“Not that I know of, but I don’t know much,” said Arthur.

Tried to kill me? Not-John said, stating to panic,

Arthur took his good hand. “You’re all right. You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

I’m sorry, John, said Sunny suddenly. I’m sorry this is happening. I know what you’re going through.

Not-John was spiraling. Bullshit!

No, said Sunny, this insolent little scrap of golden fabric. I do. I’m sorry it’s happening to you.

Not-John growled again. None of you know anything. You’re insulting to even witness. Leave, before I do something this fool of a human regrets.

“Since he woke up,” Arthur repeated.

“Yow.” Parker shook his head.

“But at least he’s awake. I’ll take it.”

Sunny made a small noise of assent.

“Anything else you can tell us before we go?” said Parker.

Arthur thought. “It tasted normal. It smelled normal. Everything was fine until I got ready for bed, and then… it was really sudden. It didn’t ramp up.”

Parker nodded. “That’s good info. Get better. We’ll be seeing you soon.”

You’re going to be all right, John, Sunny suddenly said. You will. You… you’re not alone in this.

How the hell would that breadcrumb know? Not-John fell quiet again (apart from growling).

Parker, said Sunny, voice so soft it was almost inaudible, I think Arthur could use a hug.

Arthur’s eyes widened.

Parker didn’t hesitate. He grabbed Arthur and pulled him in, a tight, firm hold that John could feel on their left side, a familiar, full-body situation.

In the mirrors, Arthur returned it, and  his eyes—still wet—closed as he rested his head on Parker’s shoulder and breathed. “Thanks,” he whispered.

“Take it easy,” said Parker, and let go.

Arthur predicted trouble and was already gripping his left arm. There was no chance to retaliate. You… Not-John started, unable to hit or anything. How dare you manhandle…

“Sorry,” murmured Arthur.

Parker just nodded, touched two fingers to his forehead like tipping a hat, and left.

Arthur relocked the door.

How dare they!

“I’m going to lie down,” said Arthur, who… come to think of it, was pale.

Not-John switched tracks at once. You still haven’t eaten.

Arthur wouldn’t even move toward the car with their breakfast. “I just don’t feel like it.” He flopped on the bed.

Damn it, Arthur, it’s my life you’re playing with, too! Not-John growled.

“It’ll be fine,” Arthur said.

This was beyond frustrating. Here was his person being a moron, and he couldn’t do anything to stop it. Had to stay so compressed, couldn’t just take control here without hurting him… it felt horrible.

Surely, this couldn’t be how it felt all the time.

Surely.

Unacceptable, he said. You must eat.

Arthur sighed into the pillow. “John…”

You are temple to the divine, said John. You will care for yourself.

Arthur started laughing. It was quiet, muffled in the pillow; his whole body shook.

What? Nothing is funny!

“You’re even worse than before,” said Arthur. “I swear, telling you about Hastur just sets you off every time. How do you even do that?”

What? said Not-John. What?

“I’ll eat soon. I promise.” His words were already on the edge of slurring. “I just… this was a lot. I need to rest.”

His person did need it. Then sleep. And he brushed the mark to make it so.

Arthur was out like a light, for once behaving as expected.

What an absolutely infuriating human. He wanted to eat him.

None of this was how things ought to go. He didn’t know enough to take true mastery of any part of this situation. He was shackled by this human. Everything hurt. And he was afraid, and liked that least of all.

Someone had tried to kill him. No wonder Arthur was sick.

For now, he was stuck, and as Arthur slept on, he picked up the drawing Arthur had left by the bed, and tried to remember what any of it meant.

#

“You did good in there. I’m real proud of you.”

Sunny felt pleased by the praise. You were right, is all. He’s not what he was. And… I do understand John.

“That might come in real handy,” said Parker, on his way down the hall. “That guy’s full of bats right now. So, question: any chance there’s like… magical poison that can get triggered by something?”

Sunny paused. Do you think we triggered it? he said quietly.

“No, bud, no. I’m just thinking… what he said. You don’t go from fine to not fine like a switch hours and hours after being poisoned. Unless that’s how magical poison works.”

You have… that’s a good point, said Sunny, thoughtfully. Curses do that, but this is specifically poison. I don’t remember if it can be triggered, but perhaps… we could research?

“Research means one thing. You thinking what I’m thinking?” said Parker.

Librarian, said Sunny.

“That’s my guy,” Parker praised him, and made a left at the next hall.

#

The Librarian was surprised to see them—or, at least, Parker assumed. It was hard to fully confirm when the person you’re trying to read had a book for a head, but he tried not to dwell on that too much, instead brushing it off under the thought of ‘something new every day’ and focus instead on their task: tracking down the poison.

Our problem is two-fold, Sunny said, voice low and emphatic. First that the poison appears to be magical in nature. Parker and I were with Arthur for the better part of an hour, and yet Arthur didn’t feel the effects until he was fully alone. The second is that John was the intended target, which… if John was the target, the assassin knew much more about the inner workings of the palace than is reasonable. Things that no one outside the palace should know, information that Hastur has not revealed.

The Librarian had been very still ever since they’d explained who they were and why they were there, taking a seat on a large pile of books, half-closed. It tugged at the sleeve of its coat, before its head snapped open to flip to an illustration of Parker, with a halo, and a humanoid blob next to him with another, much less humanoid, blob in his arms.

Parker furrowed his brow, trying to decipher it, but Sunny seemed far ahead of him. Oh, no! John isn’t… Oh. You haven’t met them. That… complicates things.

“Sunshine, catch me up,” Parker muttered.

That seemed to catch the Librarian by surprise; one of its white-gloved hands flew to its chest and its head flipped to an illustration of Parker, face peaceful, head tilted towards a stylized sun.

Parker felt his cheeks flush a bit pink.

Um, yes, Sunny said, almost shyly. That is… Yes. Parker, the gist of what the Librarian said was that… Well, it asked how, since John is Hastur’s offspring, which is… Not true. At least, not in the conventional sense. John is… John is like me.

The Librarian’s head snapped shut.

Parker could get the idea. “This ain’t public knowledge,” he said, voice low. “We’re askin’ because you’re one’a Hastur’s most loyal. Sunny vouched for you.”

The Librarian pressed its hand to its chest again, nodding, and then rose, stalking off between the rows of bookcases like a dog on the hunt.

Parker let out a low breath. “What are we lookin’ for, bud?”

I’m afraid I’m not entirely sure, Sunny said, soft and wary as they surveyed Hastur’s private library. I’m hoping we can seek out some answers by process of elimination. One of the most intriguing aspects of this case is the idea of a magical trigger that sent everything into motion, particularly since that would mean Arthur wouldn’t react until the trap is sprung. Most poisons that would kill a god would absolutely kill a mortal as well, long before the god began to feel its effects, but Arthur…

“Arthur wasn’t important in the grand scheme of things,” Parker finished. “I mean, shit, he’s up and walking around again. That means it was targeted specifically to hurt… you know, I never thought there was a type of thing involved here. What exactly are you, Sunny?”

Sunny made a low noise of frustration. I… I’m not sure. I’ve never had to really think about it before, Parker. My whole life I… I didn’t think there was anything particularly strange or unique about what I was until John was unveiled as Hastur’s ‘offspring’. It had never occurred to me that my—his—our true origins needed to be a secret.

“You think understanding that will give us a leg up on this hunt,” Parker said. “Smart. We already know it’s someone on the inside; who might have that information, much less access to Arthur as a whole? Good thinking.”

Sunny would preen, if he could.

Instead the Librarian returned with a stack of books nearly as tall as Faroe was, and Parker’s eyebrows shot upward, and Sunny let out a soft groan.

Parker cleared his throat and smiled. “Thank you, mist—mi—Librarian. I don’t, uh, suppose you have any specific chapters for u—”

The Librarian flipped through its pages and made a sound almost like a laugh, its spiraling arms already pulling books off the stack and opening them to particular pages.

Most of these books were in languages Parker could not even begin to parse, but luckily, Sunny was on the case.

#

So this was complicated.

Forgotten Ones. Apparently, they were called that now because the gods who’d made them back in the day often just left them on their own… usually, to die.

Once again, Hastur was a weirdo.

Sunny and John were both weird, too, surviving as they had, but it got weirder still: apparently, John no longer looked like a Forgotten One.

The Librarian made it clear, showing illustration after illustration of tiny little versions alongside larger gods, and then showing John.

John looked fucking Arthur’s size. It made no sense. The Librarian didn’t know why that was, either; there was no record of such a thing ever happening before.

(And Sunny was…)

(Parker had to process, had to think later about the fact that Sunny…)

(Sunny would fucking fit in his hands. Sunny would fucking fit in his pocket. Sunny would fucking fit in his mouth, which was a funny idea, and one that would send Parker into hysterics if he thought about it too much right now, so later, later, later.)

They also found that the spell-trigger idea was valid… and continued to narrow things down.

It was a deeply complicated piece of magic. Very few beings had the power to do it, and the trigger tended to carry “fingerprints” of whoever handled it. Esthetic resonance aside, they also tended to be disguised like insects, or small animals—though they were not alive.

That right there gave Parker and Sunny the next step: since no one would have known to look for the thing, they needed to get into Arthur’s room and search on their own.

Unfortunately, that would be a bit challenging. This was a crime scene, and not exactly open to guests.

Parker eyed the Dancers in front of Arthur’s empty bedroom. Sharp, golden, deadly, beautiful; not for the first time, he shook his head at how perfectly Hastur had represented his essence in these creations.

How are we getting in? whispered Sunny (who was little and Parker could not think about it).

Parker exhaled. “We’re gonna test something. You up for it?”

With you? Always, Sunny vowed, barely above a whisper.

“The way it is on Earth, a lot of authority is assumed,” said Parker, peering around the corner at the Dancers. “It’s real simple. Back there, you wear a nice suit, you act like you’re supposed to be someplace, and most of the time, it works.Though I had to have Arthur do that for me a lot. Racialism.”

Sunny considered this. Here, no one cares about your heritage.

“Yep,” said Sunny, counting guards, timing their movements.

We may be able to bluff our way into his room.

“That’s what I’d like to do, pal.”

Sunny was having a little too much fun, he was pretty sure. I’m sure they’ll let us in. We can bluff it.

“Well. Guess we’re about to find out,” said Parker, tugging his shirt down and smoothing his trousers. Then he marched toward the room as if expected.

Dancers had no faces. They still sure as fuck looked his way, all at once, creepily synced.

Parker nodded as if all of this was normal and reached for the door.

The one on the left, raised her (its?) arm to block him.

“We’re here on orders,” he said without hesitation, without stammer, without stutter (and it hit Sunny just how bad Arthur was at lying). “King in Yellow himself sent us. Check with him, if you want.”

The Dancer didn’t seem to know what to do with that. Maybe it was outside her routine.

He is my partner, Sunny rumbled, and we need to investigate the Composer's quarters. Kindly step aside.

And the Dancers… recognized him.

Not who he was. As in who he had been.

They swept aside, forming two perfect lines along the door… and bowed.

Parker was a damned good liar, but it still took effort to keep his face straight as he stepped inside.

He leaned against the door, eyes absolutely huge in the mirrors. “You did it again. How’d you do that?” he whispered after the door shut. “That was fucking amazing!”

I… Sunny said, stunned. I just… asked. Perhaps it is because I am a piece of the King, I don't know. Maybe they also listen to John. But that is… very good to know. And reassuring. Comforting.

“Fuck, Sunny.” Parker looked (so many mirrors) and sounded impressed. “You are one heck of a guy.” Which, from him, was a hell of a compliment.

Well, maybe to you, Sunny said, flirting just a little.

Then again, flirting in Arthur’s room lacked a distinct amount of appeal, so Sunny let it go.

“Right,” said Parker, surveying the space before stepping further in. He snorted. “Thought the mirrors were bad out there. Geez.”

It seems the King wanted John to see Arthur at all times. Perhaps to ensure he was fit for court before leaving the room?

“Pal, I got no idea,” said Parker. “I never seen nothing like this before.” And then, so casually, he said, “But if you were the King, why would you do it?”

Oh, said Sunny at once. To keep John bound.

“Bound?”

Constant reminder of what was his. Arthur is… far from my favorite communicator, but he makes so many faces. He’s not like you, Parker; he doesn’t have full control over his emotions or himself. I will begrudgingly admit he… can be interesting to watch.

“So you think it’s a honeypot for the bee that’s already striped-ass-deep in honey,” said Parker with a grin.

I… I think so?

“I got questions,” said Parker, “but that’s gonna have to wait. Okay. Let’s see. Time to do some inspection.”

They had done this before in the Dreamlands, and had it down to a science. Parker missed nothing—as long as it was in the physical world. Sunny caught the magical things Parker couldn’t see. Between the two of them, bad guys had a lot of trouble hiding their tracks.

The downside was only vaguely knew what they were trying to find.

The room seemed huge for one guy, especially one who was blind; the bed was a four-poster with a gauzy white canopy that dominated one side of the room, facing a balcony that overlooked an interior garden. A massive wardrobe lay across one wall, mirrors inset into the doors and walls and ceiling.

The whole place was warded to hell and back. Parker’s heart fell as Sunny described it. “Confirmation it had to be someone trusted,” he murmured.

Yes. No one else could have done it, Sunny said, softly grieving. It’s someone they know.

Parker looked through Arthur’s wardrobe. “Some of it’s kinda clowny,” he said, because it was just the two of them.

Strange, said Sunny. They’re also… wildly inconsistent in size.

“More questions,” murmured Parker. He finished inspecting the closet and returned to the perimeter.

There wasn’t anything notable around those walls but mirrors. Which were weird. Parker squinted at himself. Then he stuck his tongue out at Sunny with a grin.

Sunny curled the tip of their tongue to touch their upper lip and Parker let out a snort of laughter.

I don’t mind the view, but these… these just seem excessive. There’s nothing magical I can see in the reflections, at least not yet. He let out a rumble. I think their bathroom is to the right, past the bed, if it follows a similar layout of the rest of the palace’s rooms.

“Good thought. Let’s see…” Parker backtracked to the door. “Right. Let’s go slow. See if you can spot anything on the way to the bathroom.”

And Sunny gasped.

Parker went dead still.

Under the bed, Sunny whispered. There’s something… under there. Fuck.

Parker swallowed. “Think it’s our trigger?”

I don’t know, Parker. There’s something strange about it. It flickered into view, like a broken spell. It’s… it’s moving a little. Weakly.

So there were no weapons of any kind in this room. Parker exhaled through his nose. “Fuck. Do we get the Dancers, or go check it out ourselves?”

It’s very small, said Sunny. And… I don’t think it’s… long for this world. But don’t touch it, or you might compromise the esthetic resonance.

Parker went into the closet and found a shirt. “Guide me, partner.”

Parker trusted Sunny to direct him toward a thing he could not see. That  trust was powerful, and Sunny treasured it—Arthur had never trusted Sunny as much as Parker did.

But then, there were reasons for that.

Under the bed twitched a… thing. More like a spider than anything else, but it wasn’t alive; it was a spell with a time-limit, and as they approached, it faded more, bits of it flaking away.

Sunny’s instinct was good. Thousands upon thousands of years of handling magic didn’t go away just with loss of memory, and he understood something at once: Parker, he said quietly. We need magical help at once. Something in it malfunctioned—it should have already been gone, but if we don’t act now… wait. I know.

“Yeah?”

Spell. I think I can… I think I remember… He thought, precious seconds flaking away while the evidence faded. It’s… it’s a stasis spell. It should keep it from fully fading away. Though it should’ve faded already, and I don’t understand why it didn’t.

“Maybe Arthur’s so toxic he cursed it back,” Parker joked.

Ha, said Sunny, then sobered again. Ready?

“Yes.”

Mgfm'latghnah.

Parker felt it slide in them the way magic always did, starting in his throat and somehow slipping through his veins, feeling oddly foreign, as if his blood briefly turned to solid glass, yet kept flowing.

There was a spark under the bed, and suddenly, he could see it: an ugly little thing, weirdly textured as if made from ash, twitching inside a glass box.

“Got you, you son of a bitch,” Parker said to it.

I think we may have found the trigger, said Sunny.

“We gotta show the King.”

Yes. He’ll be able to identify who handled it.

“Safe to pick up?”

Yes.

Parker did a further search of the room just to be sure, but the Dancers had done their job, and it was clean. “Why’d they miss it?”

It was made by someone very powerful, said Sunny nervously. If we hadn’t been at exactly the angle we stood at, I would have missed it, too. And like I said… it should already have been gone. He paused. Maybe Arthur did somehow accidentally break it.

“More and more questions,” said Parker, using Arthur’s shirt to hide it. The glass cube was surprisingly heavy. “But with this, maybe we can get some fuckin’ answers.”

#

Hastur was having trouble finding words for this situation.

Upset was a mortal term, appropriate to lost pencils or (heaven forbid) keys snapped in locks, requiring aid.

Afraid fit smaller beings, who had no idea what the loss of themselves would bring, and could more look forward to erasing their carbon footprint than they could affecting the very world.

Furious only worked in the sense that he was, indeed, angry, and he could apply the Latin for violent passion, rage, madness, and  to rage, be mad.

No… this was something else. This was threatening a six-year plan in one fell swoop. This was disregarding the good god he'd been, ignoring how hard he'd striven, and shitting on all his recent effort to make peace and be even more good.

This was threatening his end game of Faroe Safe At Any Cost, and that alone was enough to make him feral.

Whoever it was had more luck than they knew because he didn't know who had done it yet, but when he found them, oh. Oh. The world would feel their suffering.

In the meantime, he had triage to do.

Arthur and John were speaking as he approached the medical wing. He’d thought—maybe hoped—that his absence would give them the chance to establish John’s personality, identity, self, but that… did not seem to have worked.

Surprise, surprise, they were fighting.

It happened here, and that means I am in danger. We need to leave!

“This is the safest place we could be,” Arthur snapped. “What do you want to do, go wandering around the Dreamlands? Like that’s ever worked out well for us!”

You—we did that before?

“Yes! It’s where I got half these scars!”

Well… you… didn’t have me then!

“Yes, I did, you twit!”

Clearly not, Not-John rumbled. Given that I was calling myself John and didn’t know I was a god.

Oh, good. They’d clearly handled that revelation well.

“You did know.”

Liar!

“I’m a lot of things, John, but lying well isn’t one of my skills. Look me in the eye and tell me I’m lying.”

A pause.

Well… you… Sputtering sounds. We did it wrong! That’s what that means!

Arthur sighed. “Look, John, I’ve been in the public eye for… fucking years now, and we’ve been at Court for months. We can’t go out unnoticed. We can’t sneak around unseen. They’ll know who I am, and…” He sighed. “We couldn’t defend ourselves, anyway. We’ve only just started magic.”

Just started! It’s been ten years!

“You didn’t know you could at first, and then I wasn’t attuned, and you tried and it stopped my heart, and—”

I would never be so inept, Not-John rumbled as if he’d been directly insulted.

Arthur sighed. “The point is, this is the safest we can be.”

Where we were attacked!

“We weren’t attacked.”

Then what the fuck happened?

“I—”

You will tell me, Arthur Lester!

Hastur stiffened. He felt it happen—felt John trying to use the mark to force his way. Well, damn. Had that been happening all morning?

Another pause.

OW!

“That’s what you get!” Arthur declared.

Hastur had to see.

He opened the door to find John wildly shaking his left hand, on which reddened bite-marks indicated exactly how Arthur had shown his displeasure.

Hastur stared.

You bit me! He bit me! You… Not-John gasped. Oh!

“Who is it?” said Arthur, voice cracking, afraid.

“Me,” said Hastur.

“Thank fucking hell! Where the fuck have you been?” Arthur snarled at him.

What… what…. trembled Not-John.

“I am the King in Yellow,” rumbled Hastur without putting much effort into it.

Not-John made one small, unhappy sound. I… see that you are.

“He doesn’t remember anything important!” Arthur cried.

Important!

“Yes, important! Me! Us! My daughter! Arkham! Anything!”

“Been holding this in all morning, have you?” said Hastur mildly, and picked Arthur up.

Not-John gasped and smacked wildly at him. No! Mine! Mine!

“Calm.” Hastur inspected closely. “You are improved, Arthur.”

“I still can’t stay awake very long,” Arthur said.

“The Keeper said that you are… ah. Recharging,” Hastur said, lifting Arthur’s arms one by one, peering close. “Whatever it is in you that protected John was used heavily.”

“He’s still all right, though?” said Arthur.

“Yes.”

Put my… put him down, said Not-John softly, and he sounded like he was going to cry. He’s mine. You can’t have him. I marked him first.

Hastur sighed. “Reduced to the most base parts of himself, I see.”

“Something like that,” Arthur muttered.

“John, I will not take him from you. Now shut the fuck up,” said Hastur. “Your heart still isn’t as steady as I want.”

“When is it ever?” Arthur muttered.

His heart?

“When the poison could not snip you clean from him, it struck at that which blocked your death,” Hastur said simply. “Arthur, you aren’t well enough to resume any of your duties. You will remain here.”

“Sure,” said Arthur, who clearly didn’t mind.

Poison? Poison? Not-John sputtered. That’s what was done? We were poisoned?

“You didn’t tell him?” said Hastur.

“I… he was already freaking out so badly,” Arthur said.

Freaking out—you neglect to tell me this, and then attempt to convince me we’re safe here? Not-John’s voice rose, building to a full-on bellow.

Hastur paused. “I am being requested. Remain here. You are safe, John.”

Bullshit!

Arthur sighed.

Hastur put him back down (so much more gently than he used to) and left, closing the doors.

You fucking liar, Not-John seethed the moment he was gone..

“Hey! I never lied to you!”

You did! It was poison? What next? What else haven’t you told me?

And yet another knock at the door.

Arthur and Not-John shouted at the same time: “What?”

Faroe opened it.

Her eyes were red, her cheeks blotchy; she carried a tray with numerous spoons, two small bowls, and a glass of water. “I’m so glad you’re awake.”

And at her heels, Nibbles entered, like a guilty stormcloud.

“Oh, baby girl,” Arthur said, sliding right off the bed and heading for her.

Faroe handed the tray off to Nibbles before Arthur could knock the whole thing down and let him grab her in a tight, tight hug.

“I’m so sorry I scared you,” Arthur said, muffled.

She clung. Clung like a little monkey, clung like an almost-young-woman who knew too well the frailty of life. “I love you. You’re okay. Uncle Dagon knew what to do.”

“That he did,” Arthur said with a gentle laugh. “The Keeper told us she’d consulted someone—I’m glad it turned out to be him.”

Hmph, Not-John opined.

“I brought you something to eat,” Faroe said, pulling away just enough to look at Arthur, at the naked expression of relief and joy on his face and the cold, calculating expression in those golden eyes. “The medimages said it needed to be simple, so it’s just some broth and rice. I cooked it myself.” Her face set, grim. “I know it’s safe. But Nibbles volunteered to test all of your food from now on, too.”

Ha, said Not-John. Bad luck for you, because this asshole isn’t eating.

“Thank you,” said Arthur. “It looks delicious. I’ll eat it with pride.”

What!

“Don’t you know, John?” said Arthur, a twinkle in his unseeing eyes. “The secret ingredient is love.”

Faroe giggled.

Not-John was baffled silent.

“Nibbles will test it now, just to show—well, John, I guess,” Faroe said. “Do you want me to describe it? Or is he behaving?”

“It’s fine,” Arthur said.

It was almost comical as a thin tendril, little more than a root, picked up a spare spoon on the tray and gently scooped a bit of rice onto it, pulling it into a toothy maw that opened on the side of the goat’s face; the entire spoon disappeared with a crunch. Then Nibbles did it again, this time taking some of the broth (and another spoon).

“She’s probably able to do this just sniffing it, but… she’s really, really sorry she didn’t sniff your food beforehand.”

“You shouldn’t have to,” Arthur said, his voice gentle and soft as he reached, blindly, with his left hand. “You’re a good girl,  Nibbles. Thank you.”

Don’t! Not-John yelped.

The goat pressed her nose into John’s hand, ruffling the sleeve of his shirt with her nose as she nuzzled into it.

“See? She knows you. You’re safe. But is it safe for her to be testing this?” said Arthur. “If they had a poison to target John, they might target her. I don’t like that.”

Nibbles gave him a magnificent look of deep offense, which unfortunately was wasted.

Faroe sighed. “Dad’s already setting up a pretty rigorous testing system. I think we’ll be okay, I just…” Tears filled her eyes again. “I just want to be sure.” She smiled weakly and wiped her nose on a handkerchief. “You can’t keep doing this, you know. Almost dying. Stop it. That’s a royal order.”

Arthur saluted her. “Yes, ma’am, order received.”

She jumped him for another hug. “I love you, dad,” she whispered in his ear.

This was all absurd. Every last bit. Maybe she’s the one who poisoned us! Not-John said. Trying to get rid of me!

Faroe rolled her eyes. “He’s really a jerk without your influence, isn’t he?”

Arthur laughed. “We’re good for each other. I wasn’t great before him, either.”

“I don’t believe that for a second.” She stepped back, took the tray, and gave it to him. “Please eat.”

“For you, baby girl, I will.”

Fuck you both.

“John,” said Arthur evenly. “I told you. That’s the line.”

Fine. Fuck you, then. Just you.

Arthur nodded like that was fine and dandy and felt his way to the spoon. “Where’s the bowl?”

What? So you can re-infect yourself?

“The rice is right in front of you, a little right of center,” Faroe said—she gently took Arthur’s hand, lifting it, setting it down onto the surface of the bowl. “The broth is about five inches to your left. It will probably be easier just to sip it.”

“Thanks.”

Not-John lifted his hand as if to knock it all away.

“John!” snapped Arthur. “Do I really have to have Nibbles hold your damned arm down so I can eat?”

No, Not-John said sullenly.

“Nibbles wouldn’t lie to us,” Arthur said. “And Faroe definitely wouldn’t.”

Faroe stuck her tongue out.

Not-John gasped. She made a face!

“Good for her,” said  Arthur, getting a spoonful of soup.

At me!

“She’s nine, John.” He sipped carefully, testing his stomach.

“And a half,” she said. “Practically ten.”

“Growing so fast,” said Arthur a little thickly.

Not-John sniffled.

Arthur sighed. “You’re fine, John.”

Nobody’s listening to me, Not-John bemoaned.

“Be reasonable, and they will,” said Arthur, and let John contemplate on his own what reasonable might look like as he took another bite of soup.

#

Hastur came to Sunny’s call.

Parker gave him the spell.

Hastur recognized the etheric resonance.

He gave the trigger to the Keeper along with the second volume of the Leaves of Leng.

And then everything started moving so very fast.

(chapter six)

[maxwell-grant]

Bingo: Rohan Kishibe

I think there’s basically two Rohan Kishibes: one is the hilariously self-centered jackass freak who plays a wonderful and much needed role in Part 4 as the resident asshole / That Guy / Squidward of the Duwang Gang, and the other is the protagonist of a whole lotta mystery-horror-detective one-shot stories that Araki puts out periodically when he wants to do something that has nothing to do with JoJo outside of what little it needs to qualify as a JoJo spin-off. I really like the first Rohan, but I can’t say I care much for the second one.

I don’t dislike the Thus Spoke Kishibe Rohan stuff by any means, I’m actually glad it exists. It’s Araki outlet to take a break from JoJo and experiment with the kind of horror-mystery-detective stuff he really enjoys writing and has to get out of his system every now and then, it’s basically just like all the other one-offs he’s been doing over the years except it’s got the JoJo brand attached, which doesn’t hurt sales. I haven’t read most of the Rohan one-shots past the first ones, I’m sure they’re fine, the ones I read were fine too. But they just really don’t interest me.

It’s not that I don’t like Rohan as a protagonist, I actually really like the Cheap Trick arc almost exclusively because it was a decently funny/horrifying Stand battle idea elevated by it happening to the funniest person it could have happened to. The fact that Rohan’s got that asshole genius personality Araki likes so much, on top of being a world-traveling mangaka which means Araki gets to write a lot from experience and throw some digs at the industry / himself and his own work, as well as having a really cool and fun-to-draw Stand that allows him to eventually get out of any narrative problem, makes it no surprise that Araki goes back to him again and again. Contrary to what fandom says (even if the jokes are funny), Rohan isn’t Araki’s favorite character, and he isn’t his self-insert either and he’s kinda spoken out against that idea a bunch of times, but it’s no brainer that Araki keeps coming back to him as an outlet for personal expression. I think it’s a very effective thing that he’s done with this.

My biggest problem with Thus Spoke Kishibe Rohan is that they are comics about the guy on the right, a superpowered mangaka who gets into trouble and does witty and underhanded things to get out of it, and not about the spider-licking sicko on the left, even though in theory they should be. I’m not against the idea of these kinds of antagonistic/asshole neighbor-slash-rival characters getting solo outings divorced from their original cast if they have interesting things to offer in return (Wario, and the creation of WarioWare in particular, pulled this off), but there’s that part, you gotta offer something in return for stripping the character of that dynamic they were created for.

A Rohan Kishibe who isn’t making a huge ass of himself punching sixth graders to win at rock-paper-scissors and letting his cartoonishly expensive house burn to the ground so he can catch Josuke cheating at dice is just not a Rohan Kishibe I want to read about. I really love Rohan, he’s the JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure equivalent of Newman from Seinfeld and Part 4 absolutely needed to have a character like him, a concentrated This Fucking Guy to hang around with the heroes and even be one of them even if they’d rather rely on someone else. It’s just that his spin-offs to me are kind of like having a Newman tv series spin-off without the rest of the Seinfeld gang where he’s just some bumbling funny mailman and not anyone’s nemesis/partner in crime and “pure evil”. It’s just kind of a waste, y’know.

[quailfence]

[Image description taken from alt text: Image 1: Irene looks towards Godfrey, who gazes back at her, both looking worried. Irene has shadows under her eyes, denoting lack of sleep. She says “…Right. Well, Godfrey and I… We’re sort of on the run.”

Image 2:  Irene is alone in the frame, sitting forward, both hands folded on the table. Her eyes are wide and her expression serious as she says “You see, I think I’m being stalked.” Image 3: Irene’s speech continues, but there’s no speech bubble as she says “When I was much younger, I had a brief… fling with the then-crown Prince of Bohemia, Wilhelm Von Ormstein.” The image itself shows the aforementioned younger Irene, hair in an elegant updo and wearing a more fancy looking dress, with her hand being kissed by the prince she spoke of. 

Image 4: Irene’s explanation continues. “It never went anywhere, of course. When he married later, he tried to cover up all evidence of the affair, including sending detectives after me.” The image shows Irene in traditionally men’s clothing, walking away from and side eyeing two men, the detectives, Sherlock Holmes and John Watson.

Image 5: “I managed to evade him, though, and Godfrey and I left England, swearing never to return.” Continues Irene’s dialogue. The image shows Godfrey and Irene, holding onto each other with one hand and onto a pole with another as they leave England by train. They look happy, like a couple in love.

Image 6: We are back in the present. Irene looks away to the left, holding one arm with the other and looking upset and scared. She says “I put all of that behind me. Until, about a month ago…” 

Image 7: A back view of Irene, onstage, presumably at the opera house where she works. Over her shoulder and all around her, there are a series of blurred, distant figures. However, one is slightly clearer than the others, drawing the eye's focus to them. There is no dialogue.

Image 8: “…I saw him again.” Irene voices over the image, and we see a zoomed in shot of the figure from the previous panel. It is the same prince that she talked of previously, who has a wide, dead eyed stare as he gazes up at Irene. However, while the rest of the comic is in black and white, his eyes are yellow. End description.]

First page || Previous page || Next page

Dialogue transcripts:

Panel 1 Irene: ...Right. Well, Godfrey and I...we're sort of on the run.

Panel 2 Irene: You see, I think I'm being stalked.

Panel 3 Irene (voice over): When I was much younger, I had a brief...fling with the then-crown Prince of Bohemia, Wilhelm von Ormstein.

Panel 4 Irene (voice over): It never went anywhere, of course. When he married later, he tried to cover up all evidence of the affair, including sending detectives after me.

Panel 5 Irene (voice over): I managed to evade him, though, and Godfrey and I left England, swearing never to return.

Panel 6 Irene: I put all of that behind me. Until, about a month ago...

Panel 7 (n/a)

Panel 8 Irene (voice over): ...I saw him again.

[aalghul]

Jason Todd’s Childhood Friends

I’m pretty sure these are all of them but if I missed any, let me know!

EDIT: I forgot Chris, so thanks @leoruby-draws for reminding me. (This is another edit actually. I just saw this get a reblog and I suddenly remembered where Danny and Jason being friends came from.) @janestvalentine reminded me of Donald Brinks.

While I’m here again anyways, I just want to say that I’m not including Roy based off that one three page short story. Roy was a whole adult with a child when Jason was 11 going on Titans missions with them. N52 is on something else and I’m not acknowledging it.

In chronological order:

Donald Brinks: Batman (1940) Annual #9 mentions that Jason worked on a school project with Donald. It’s probably not enough proof, but Bruce remembered him kindly. I wouldn’t doubt that Bruce just memorizes any name Jason ever dropped, but we can pretend.

Eddie: In Blue Devil #19, we have Kid Devil and Robin being the absolute cutest babies the world of sidekicks has to offer, and finding out (through their letters, because they’re adorable pen-pals) that they’re after the same criminal. I can guarantee that you have never seen anything more adorable than the tiny pen-pal wonder and his also tiny friend.

Rena: First appearing in Detective Comics #561, Rena was an immediate love interest of Jason’s (literally at first sight lol), and then she instantly invited Jason to get high with her after school. Spoiler: they didn’t, Jason eventually ends up busting the gang that was putting pressure on her, then they’re a couple (of babies). She moved around a lot, every year or so, because of her dad’s job, so she had a bit of a problem with loneliness and not fitting in. Despite all of the drug talk, my girl really was a good kid.

Danny Chase: Right before he figured out that Jason had died, he mentioned that he had called Jason, “Toddster”, earlier that week. The casual phone call and nickname do lean in favour of them being friends, despite never having interacted (because Jason’s time on the Titans had been explicitly confirmed to have carried over from pre-crisis, but he didn’t interact with any of them on panel post-crisis).

Chris: I originally forgot him, but honestly that’s probably for the best. N52 is famous for bad decisions and not knowing how time works, and a very good example of that is Red Hood and the Outlaws (2011) #25 (Zero Year tie-in) having taken place before Jason was even adopted by Bruce, but for some reason he’s already fifteen. That’s not even mentioning how annoying I found the way Talia’s fighting ability was downgraded. Moving onto Chris, himself, though. I’m sure people could argue that he’s a good foil for Jason as a street kid, but I think it’s stupid + he’s annoying. I’ll give him points for including Jason in his (stupid) idea because he wanted him to benefit too, and that he sided with Jason at the end when he could have just ignored him and stayed with the other Red Hoods. But then he only gets more annoying, so.

Gabby: Red Hood/Arsenal #4 shows us Jason being recognized by a waitress at a diner in Gotham, him also remembering her as soon as she did so. Everything about their interaction and the quick flashback is so important because it’s calling back Jason characterization as a kid who had to be rough to help himself and others, all aspects of that being a defence mechanism of some sort. Jason takes a moment to ruminate over how much better his life would be if Batman hadn’t taken him in, not muse that he would be some sort of criminal. I would love to see more that, if writers want to talk about what would have happened to Jason without Bruce so bad. The fact that Gabby triggered that thought in him, as well as reminded him that he was a good kid and helped people long before the cape, really shows that she had weight in his life. She even knew and cared about him enough to deal with when he lashed out. I would complain about Jason implying that he doesn’t care about people, but with the context of the rest of their interaction, it’s obvious that Jason’s self perception is not intended to match the reality. I like what that says about how he perceives his actions and how he thinks others might. His choosing to just help her out with that money but decide to stay out of her life is so typical Jason. I mean that both fondly and derogatorily.

Numbers: Gotham Nights #11. In a home like Ma Gunn’s, while we know he was already a target for the other residents and undoubtedly other people as well, he chose to take the punishment for something he knew Jason had done. All because Jason had been the first to show him kindness after he had already been beaten down by life as a child. It wasn’t the most clear or well done, but I liked that there was subtle commentary on how some people didn’t get to escape a life of crime when conditions force them into it. This story provides proof for why Jason wouldn’t just kill henchmen and people he didn’t deem personally deserving by having chosen to commit unforgivable acts. It’s proof of that choice being the more interesting concept, at least. As with Gabby, Jason doesn’t give Numbers the option of reconnecting with Jason after he has helped Numbers. Not surprising since we’ve seen Jason leave people before they leave him often (example: how he broke it off with Roy Harper).

Dana: She only existed for Red Hood: Outlaw #52 and #52, but she is easily the best original character to come out of RHATO. She’s my personal favourite for so many reasons (it’s literally two issues, please read them), but her friendship with Jason is wonderful too. Considering Dana’s filling him on everything, introducing him to her friends, and that he didn’t know about her being a vigilante before #52 or her dad’s leg, we know they didn’t really get to catch up before Jason left Gotham after UTRH. It’s probable that Dana didn’t even know he was alive until the Iceberg Lounge thing. We know she’s been watching over his old apartment, possibly since he first got adopted by Bruce. They were probably very close when they were kids if that’s the case. Especially since her dad remembered him easily and even characterized him as “polite” and having been “skinny”, all immediately after meeting him again. Same goes for Dana’s sister, Denise, who Jason got along with easily as soon as she showed up, even though they hadn’t talked in years.

Max: Oh, Max. Firstly, I hate this art. Now. Truth & Justice as a whole was a mess because it missed its intention by a whole lot. Seriously, I know DC wanted people to think of it, and I also know that they put effort into making it clear that they don’t care. #10-13 are about Jason attempting to solve the murder of his childhood best friend, Max Dawkins. Max’s death was set up to look like an overdose, but Jason knew that Max would never touch drugs so he set off to find his killer. He does eventually find that killer, Scarecrow, and then there’s some fear gas, an “I trust you.” from Batman, blah blah. Jason is very emotional throughout the entire story, not even attempting to hide how torn up he is over Max’s death. Max gets nothing but praise for Jason and the narrative itself. However, none of that erases that Max’s death was just to give a white boy something to be sad about. It’s more white bs in a comic filled with white saviourism at every turn.

That aside, their friendship truly is beautiful. Jason straight up says that Max was someone he could always trust to be there for him on the streets, and Jason doesn’t usually say stuff like that. This is another case of Jason walking out of someone’s life while helping them, but it feels more tragic because there’s no possibility for a resolution. Just little Robin helping his friend from the shadows and watching his grow.

[phoenixes-and-wizards]

little things i never want to forget about the hargreeves:

all of them used to defy their father, sneak out to griddy’s, and in five’s own words “eat donuts until we puked. simpler times, eh?”

luther wrote poetry while he was on the moon, especially about comets

tom hopper and the UA crew have said that the scratches all over luther’s body were made by him. he couldn’t stand the loneliness, especially during that first year, and would often resort to harming himself as a way to vent his frustration

it’s also pretty likely that he's had body dysmorphia at one point or another

he also has a habit of stress eating

diego almost became a detective, but he dropped out because he wasn't good at following orders. he even went to police academy!!!

diego has the cross stitch grace made specifically for him on the wall of his basement apartment, and in a frame no less

he’s also a big-ass momma’s boy

and he’s the only one grace calls “silly” as a term of endearment

and he has a fear of needles due to getting that tattoo when they were kids (y’all know which one i’m talking about)

plus his stutter only comes out when he's under extreme emotional stress

and a close rewatch of 1X03 shows that his bedroom had an overflowing abundance of books so what if him and ben used to bond over that😭

allison speaks seven languages

she told her daughter about her siblings, and claire obviously knew them well enough that she was calling them "uncle” and “aunty,” and that last one is especially heartwarming because this was around the time that vanya’s book had just come out, and yet, allison--who has the option of never telling claire about her--still does, and even explains why she wasn’t allowed to go on missions

klaus was smoking blunts at fourteen

klaus was clutching dave’s dogtags right before five teleported all of them to the past

and i’ve noticed that he has a habit of doing that in general in season 2, especially when he’s feeling kind-of low, but sometimes it’s also an unconscious habit and that’s cute, too

klaus would write the things the dead would say to him, all over his bedroom wall

klaus has a habit of going barefoot whenever he’s at home

five was the only person vanya felt comfortable enough with to present new violin pieces to

five outright says that everything he’s done so far was to get back to his family and keep them safe

@me-evil-never​ wrote in the tags: “five has watched his family die/be dead like 3 times if i’m counting correctly (YES YOU ARE AND IT’S A PAINFUL FACT WE MUST ALL LIVE WITH), plus all he has ever done in his life since age 13 was to get back to them so he could spend time safely with them” and YES I AGREE why would you hide such an excellent point in the tags because, sometimes, even i forget that it’s only been two weeks for him, and they’re probably the roughest he’s had since being stuck in the apocalypse as an actual child, and idk about you guys, but i just really want to give five a big hug because lord knows he deserves needs it

allison used to paint klaus' nails during meals

and was apparently a daddy’s girl, though how one could become a “daddy’s girl” if the father in question was reginald hargreeves is beyond my capacity to understand

ben was reading chekhov as early as 14

ben was a bookworm, both in life and death

vanya had the smallest room

vanya openly called ben the kindest of their siblings in her book, and said that when he died, none of them had any more reason to stay

before he left, diego gave reggie a piece of his mind

all of them know how to dance

they all know how to speak and read greek (ancient fucking greek, as one of you oh-so-eloquently put it)

vanya knows how to speak russian and god knows how many other languages

(by this point i'm really convinced they're all multilingual and there just hasn't been an opportunity for them to utilize that yet)

she also has a mr. snuggles teddy bear

according to klaus, vanya used to cry when the others would step on ants as kids

klaus is pansexual

he also dated twins once (though i’m not sure if he dated one then the other or both at the exact same time)

and has mild claustrophobia from being locked up in mausoleums all the time as a child

diego swore a pinky promise with lila and called it “the pinkiest promise” he’d ever make, and even though he’s a hard-ass who won’t hesitate to cut anybody in half, he’s still at his gentlest when he’s around her and he doesn’t even try to hide it

off her meds, vanya got first chair and a solo on her first try (as a violinist in a professional orchestra, lemme tell you that this is no easy feat to do)

she also seemed to have an affinity for bach (again--not easy!!)

even though he was barely starting puberty, ben was smart enough to reprogram allison's teddy bear to say "luther smells dad's underwear."

upon possessing klaus for a few minutes in season 2, ben could be seen clutching various flowers and smelling them repeatedly

klaus can actually levitate in the comics

according to @valkerymillenia, ghost!ben once saved klaus' life in the comics after he overdosed on heroin yet again

both klaus and diego repeatedly tried to open the lock to vanya's old anechoic chamber and were absolutely furious when luther wouldn't let them

diego called elliott "one of ours" despite knowing him for all of a week and a half

he also calls herb “herbie,” calmed him down after accidentally drawing a weapon on him, and created a secret handshake with him, all within two hours tops of meeting him

if one really thinks about it, diego is actually good with people? and that makes sense because he left the academy as early as seventeen, and he would’ve had to talk to a lot of people just to make ends meet that first year alone, and even though reggie tried to squash that part of him down, he’s still a good person at heart, you go prince of pointy things, make us all proud

[chernobog13]

NEAL ADAMS R.I.P.

I was shocked and saddened to learn today that legendary comic book artist Neal Adams had passed away at the age of 80.

Adams had been working in the comic book industry since the 1960s.  His realistic, commercial art-style of drawing was a breathe of fresh air, and his work was immediately identifiable.  As someone described it so well, Adams could make the fantastic look real.

During the 1960s he worked for both DC and Marvel, drawing a multitude of characters.  But seemed to me that the bulk of his work during this time was at DC.

A lot of his work at DC was on covers, which was a great marketing idea because his art just grabbed you.  I can’t tell you how many times I bought a comic because it had a Neal Adams cover, only to be disappointed that someone else did the interior art.  (Most places back in those day did not allow you to browse the comics at the stands.  “Hey, kid!  This ain’t no library!”)

That isn’t to say Adams wasn’t given interior art assignments.  At Marvel he worked for a short stint on X-Men before it was cancelled; drew the bulk of the Kree-Skull War story in Avengers.

At DC he took over the Deadman strip and made it his own, and drew several issues of World’s Finest and The Brave and the Bold (these are just off the top of my head; I’m sure he did more).  It was in one of those B & B issues that Adfams redesigned Green Arrow’s costume and gave him the mustache and goatee.

But it wasn’t until the late 1960s/early 1970s when he teamed up with writer Denny O’Neil that Adams really hit his stride.  The two of them took over Green Lantern, added Green Arrow (and Black Canary most of the time, although she never got cover credit) and produced classic stories that were more relevant, dealing with real world issues such as racism, drug abuse, and pollution.

As if that weren’t enough, the duo then turned their attention to Batman.  The character was in dire straits at that time, the victim of the campiness of the Batman television show.  In short, he had become a joke, but no one was laughing anymore.

O’Neill and Adams saved the character by stripping away all the silliness of the Silver Age and bringing him back to his roots.  He was the dark knight detective again.  He was THE Batman.

That move saved the character and reinvigorated the franchise.  If it hadn’t been for O’Neill and Adams, Batman would not be the flagship character he is today.

Adams was also one of the first, and most vocal, proponents of creator rights.  When Superman the Movie was about the be released he brought to the public’s attention that Superman’s creators, Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster, were essentially destitute and abandoned by DC. 

It was because of the efforts of Neal Adams and others that Siegel and Shuster got a “created by” credit in the film, why that same credit began appearing in every issue of Superman and Action Comics, and why DC started paying Siegel and Shuster an annual stipend.

Adams work wasn’t limited to DC and Marvel.  When Ballantine Books released new paperback editions of the Tarzan novels they were adorned with Neal Adams covers.

He also established his own company, Continuity Associates, and began producing comics for new, independent published like Pacific Comics, before dipping his toes into the self publishing world for awhile, with characters like Toyboy, Samuree, and Megalith.

In the past few years he has done projects for both DC and Marvel, as well as provided numerous covers, which were usually bonus alternates.  

The last project Adams did at the Big Two that I’m aware of was the Fantastic Four: Antithesis mini-series with writer Mark Waid.

Quite frankly, I do not have enough time or space here to do justice to Neal Adams’ incredible body of work, and the contributions he made to comic books.

Neal Adams. rest in peace, sir.  You will be sorely missed.

[i-m-a-weird-person]

Riz is so much like his dad.

At some point, Riz starts to grow a mustache. I mean, he’s a teen, so ofc he’s gonna do that. It’s barely a shadow but it’s there. And he likes to dress like he was from a detective noir movie sharp and neat, as always, right ? Maybe he gains a bit of height as he is growing up too.

So. What if.

What if one day, Sklonda comes late at night and Riz is deep in thought with his back against the kitchen counter, reviewing clues in his head or something, his silhouette half-lit from the lampstreet outside. He didn’t notice night falling and the loss of luminosity ofc, he’s concentrating on a case with his mental board and his mental red strings and everything. Maybe he’s holding a mug of cold, half-drunk coffee to his lips, or got his hand on his chin.

Doesn’t matter.

Because as Sklonda steps in the flat, and right as she is about to call out to him about staying in the dark...for a moment, she doesn’t see him.

She sees Pok.

The impression fades pretty quickly but it strikes her all the same, like a deer in headlight-struck.

Riz is jolted out of his reverie from Sklonda hugging him tight (he didn’t notice her coming in because the sound of her keys in the door is a familiar and safe one and thus he doesn’t need to be hyperaware of it), tighter than she ever hugged him it seems -and she’s a pretty tight hugger.

-Mom ? Are you ok ? ... Did something happen at work ?...

-I’m ok Riz. I’m ok. I just thought...

She pauses to sniff in his hair, slicked back like his father used to wear them when they met, maybe that’s why, and he’s almost taller than her now, it seems like he was barely past her shoulders only yesterday, and now look at him, look at her boy, watching her with worries in his eyes and clues in his underbags.

-I thought I saw your dad there for a second.

.

.

.

.

FUCK I WISH I KNEW HOW TO DRAW BECAUSE I WOULD TURN THIS SCENE INTO A COMIC SO FAST ISTG

[ygreczed-3]

The Walking Dead/Detroit Become Human AU

(so basically I was tempted to make a post to apologize about the mess my blog has become lately - feels like I’m posting AUs, artworks, sketches and comic updates in such a chaotic way… I’m really sorry about it ahaha 😅 Hopefully it will get better soon)

So this post is me drawing for hours and forgetting to eat on my break day (I finally did !!! Don’t worry ahaha) because I became obsessed with an idea again. Also I like to make concept arts and storyboards as if I was working on a professional project for a TV show/animation. I find it fascinating ! This time I don’t really have any plot or finished story, I just wanted to draw these scenes badly so… I just did.

I’d like to draw your attention to Connor’s curly hair and Hank’s design (strongly inspired by Kristoff from Frozen). I just LOVE these details.

⚠️Remember this is NOT a new series. Just me having fun with characters and a universe I like (aka The Walking Dead) ! 

Anyway, more ideas below 👀

*POW*

Hank open his eye again. The walker was shot in the head. Hank pushes the walker away, it falls dead on the concrete.

Looking up, he sees Connor with a gun.

Hank : Jesus… Thank you.  I thought I was…

Connor : I wouldn’t have wasted a bullet for you if it wasn’t for your kid back there. Your car, does it work? Hank : … Yeah… I just… I was looking for some gas when… well… Can I drive you somewhere? Connor : Not really, I’m looking for someone.

___________________________

Hank and Cole are walking in a gas station with jerricans and pour what’s left of gas from the pump.

Cole : Dad, that mister from earlier, do you think he’s gonna be okay ? Hank : I think, pumpkin. He was the one helping us. Cole : Being alone sounds dangerous… He should have come with us. Hank : …

___________________________

It’s nighttime, Cole is sleeping in the backseats with a blanket, Hank is sleeping in the driver seat. He wakes up brutally as he hears something tapping softly against the car window : the young man from earlier. He rolls the window down.

Hank : You ? Connor : I’ve looked around the whole city. Now it’s too dark… I need a safe place to have some sleep, I was thinking you could let me in. You owe me after all. Hank : … Yeah sure. Get in.

Connor gets in the car. He takes his bag off and keeps it by his side, out of Hank’s reach. He takes his coat off but keeps a gun near him. Hank stares at him with narrowed eyes.

Hank : … You’re safe here, really. You can trust me. Connor : Sorry, but I only trust myself.

___________________________

It’s dark outside, Hank can’t really sleep with the stranger next to him. His guts dictate him to stay alert. He watches carefully as Connor turns his head to him, half-opening his eyes.

Connor: Can’t sleep ? Hank : … Well you were right… I don’t know you. What about you ? Did you sleep a little ? Connor : … No. I’m too… cautious. My brain won’t let me sleep with a stranger next to me. Hank : … My name’s Hank. You ? Connor : What the hell are you doing ? Hank : We agreed we couldn’t sleep next to strangers. I’m introducing myself. Connor : It won’t make it any better… *after a silence* I’m Connor. Hank : Nice to meet you. Connor: … Where were you before ? You… you act like a newborn in this hell… Hank : … I had a neighbor with one of those bunkers… with tons of food, water, enough to live for months. We… We were hiding there with her until… until a few weeks. Connor : What happened ? Hank : She thought she had heard a chopper. Thought someone was out there to rescue us… she opened the hatch and she was… attacked by those things… Connor: … the kid… he’s yours? Hank : Yeah… Cole. Connor: … Where’s her mom ? Hank : He’s never known her. Connor: Sorry.  Hank : Don’t be.

*silence*

Hank : I think… I’m starting to relax… we should try to sleep huh ?

Connor is already sleeping.

___________________________

Connor takes his backpack as Hank and Cole take a breakfast with some fire.

Hank : You sure you don’t want to eat anything ? Connor : No thanks, I have my own stock. You should save your food for your kid. Hank : … Hey, if you ever need to find us… after you’ve found what  you’re looking for, I have a police radio. Frequency 58,7 kHz. Connor: I won’t need it but- thanks. Good luck.

Connor leaves.

___________________________

Cole : What should we do now? Hank : … We need to find more food… and weapons. I’ll go downtown today. You… You’ll stay here alright? Cole : No I… I want to stay with you… Hank : I know you’re scared Cole… But it’s too dangerous. You’ll be safe hidden in the car. Cole : You’ll be quick? Hank : Back before sunset, pinky swear.

___________________________

Hank finds an axe on a bar counter.

Suddenly : *BONG BONG BONG BONG*

Hank : What the-

He runs outside and hides against a wall as walkers pass nearby, heading to the source of the ringing.

He looks up and sees Connor climbing on a ladder but a Walker is trying to grab his leg.

Hank comes and kills the monster. Connor : You..! Follow me !

On the rooftop, they see the church. It’s an automatic bell, the walkers are massively getting around the building. There is something painted on the wall that says “Find Jericho” with black paint and scribbled under it “Find 9s”

Connor : Nines… Hank : What is Jericho ? Connor : … A safe place for survivors. It’s hidden… to keep the thieves and killers away. Hank : … The church. Connor : What ? Hank : Jericho, it has to do with the bible. The message is written on a church’s wall. It’s not a coincidence, there might be… a hint in there. Connor : … But we can’t get inside with those creeps around… Hank : … Maybe they leave when the church stops ringing the bells. Connor : Or maybe we should try to lead them away with… Hank : With what ? Connor : … Your car.

___________________________

Connor : So, let me get it straight. You drive around the town honking. It will attract the creeps away from the church. I get inside the church and look for any kind of hint. When the bells start ringing I get out before the creeps come back. And what do we do with Cole ?

Hank : He’s going with you. I don’t want to have him in the car with hundreds of undeads trying to get me. Connor : … I don’t- Hank : Don’t worry. He’s a smart kid. He will do as you say. Right Cole? Cole : …Hmm. Connor: … Fine. Let’s do it.

___________________________

Connor and Cole sneak into the church. Connor kills two of the Walkers still inside the church as Cole follows him cautiously. 

Cole : … Look. *he points out a book on the altar* Connor : … It’s a bible… The chapter about the Battle of Jericho… it can’t be a coincidence. *They look up and see something written with old blood on the wall behind the altar. It says “Rahab the harlot defied the King of Jericho. Here lies the key to the fortress.”* Cole : What’s a harlot? Connor : … You should… ask your father. Now… I have to read… and think. Cole : … We only have one hour left before the bells ring again… Connor : I know.

___________________________

Connor : … I don’t get it ! There must be something I’m missing ! Cole : … Connor, I found a map ! Connor : Not now Cole, I’m trying to focus… Cole : Connor, look ! Connor : Cole please I really need-…

Cole shows him the map… there is a “9s” written on it.

Connor : Nines ! Cole : Does it help ? Connor : … I don’t know-…

The bells ring suddenly.

Connor : Crap… we have to get out of here. Give me your hand, buddy.

___________________________

Hank is waiting for them : he has lit a fire and when Cole sees him, he lets go of Connor’s hand and runs to hug his dad.

Hank : I gotcha, pumpkin. *looking up at Connor* Did you find something ? Connor : I think…  Hank : You think ? Connor : I have this map my brother left for me inside the church… there was some kind of riddle on the wall, and it must have something to do with this but… there is nothing noted on it. Hank : What’s the riddle ? Connor : “Rahab the harlot defied the King of Jericho, here lies the key to the fortress.” Rahab was a prostitute, she helped Joshua by hiding spies he sent inside the city… and Joshua spared her when he took the fortress. But I… I don’t see the connection. Hank : … Let me see the map.

Connor gives it. Cole sits next to his father, near the fire, and soon falls asleep. After some time thinking and overthinking it, Hank finally points to a town on the map. A city called Defiance.

Hank : Look. Connor : Defiance… Of course. The key lies in Rahab’s defiance… Defiance is a town… Fuck- You’re a genius…! Hank : Man, I was feeling like a Detective again… felt nice for a moment. Connor: You were a Detective? Hank : A police Lieutenant, to be specific. But yeah. Detective works too. Connor : … I don’t think the treasure hunt is done yet. You’re gonna need your supercop sense again ! Hank : … It’s good to see you all excited. Feels like meeting the real Connor under the survivor’s shell. Connor: It’s nice… that Cole and you don’t have that shell yet… humanity is a rare thing to find down there. Hank : … So, who is “Nines” ? Connor : My little brother. We lived together, in the same group of survivors. Our camp was attacked… we got separated. Hank : Looks like he’s smart. He solved the riddle all by himself. It took the two of us to understand the hint. Connor : He’s always been a nerd. Hank : Pffft… Well we should try to get some sleep. We should be able to reach Stoneton, then we’ll have to find more gas.

Hank gets up and carries Cole to the car seats.

Connor: … Hank…? Hank : Yup ? Connor : Can I… Can I come with you two ? I could go to Defiance by myself but… if you’re heading there too, maybe we could… Hank : What the heck ? Of course you’re coming with us. With our two half-brains we’re gonna need each other’s help to find Jericho and your brother, don’t you think ? Connor *chuckles* : Right.

[thevindicativevordan]

Why isn't Nightwing a bigger deal? He has all of Batman's skills and Superman's faith in humanity and is arguably the most beloved hero in the DCU, but most people seem to know him either as the leader of the N̶o̶t̶ ̶J̶L̶ Teen Ttians or just Robin.

Thank you for asking me about Nightwing, I've been wanting to write a piece about him for a while now. The short version is that everyone who claims Dick becoming Nightwing was him "moving out of Batman's shadow and becoming his own man" is completely wrong.

Dick Grayson is a fantastic character, someone who saved Bruce Wayne in-universe both by forcing Batman to grow up a bit, and the countless times he saved Batman's life as his partner whether as Robin or Nightwing. Dick saved Batman in the real world as well, hard to believe but Batman was actually in danger of being cancelled due to poor sales early on. Enter Robin, a young daredevil audience stand in the creators hoped would get kids interested in reading Batman. And it worked! Sales on Batman doubled once Robin showed up which is crazy to think about, but Dick Grayson has always been a popular character. Cartoons like Teen Titans, Batman: The Animated Series, and The Batman only helped grow his audience.

Character-wise, Dick Grayson really does fill a number of crucial roles in the DCU. For Batman, Dick is proof that Batman is a positive force. Meeting Batman helped change Dick for the better, helped him heal after his parents died. With Dick, Batman can take comfort in knowing that yes, he has made a difference in the world for at least one orphan boy, which is all he wanted when he lost his parents himself. To the wider DCU, Dick is a friendly face who convinces others that Batman is competent and not a complete asshole. He took this kid in, trained him to be one of the best heroes the DCU has seen, and did it all out of the kindness of his heart. That someone like Dick can confront the evils of Gotham and not break means there's still hope for that city. As Robin, Dick has led the Titans and is an icon in his own right as The Sidekick, the original, the one every other Robin is built around copying or contrasting. The one all other superhero sidekicks are drawing on as a basis. As Robin Dick Grayson is very much on Batman's level.

Just not as Nightwing. As Nightwing, Dick has been a second rate Daredevil which means he's a third rate Batman (fully prepared to get hate for this but I've read and enjoyed the Miller and Bendis DD runs so I feel entitled to my opinion). A typical Nightwing run tends to go like this: Moving to Bludhaven (which is Gotham... but WORSE!), Dick Grayson usually enrolls in a pointless job we don't care about in order to provide some meaningless soap opera drama that doesn't go anywhere. Patrolling the city as Nightwing, he fights a variety of bad guys who are usually rather lame and unthreatening, with his big bad being a Kingpin knockoff called Blockbuster. Villains are fought, long running plotlines are set up, then everything is abandoned because it's Batfamily event time, and Dick has to run back to Gotham in order to play sidekick again. Usually his involvement is completely superfluous and it would've been better if the writer had gotten to opt out. By the time we finally get back to Nightwing's solo plotlines, the audience has usually ceased to care and the run gets cut short.

That's how Nightwing has been since the New 52 at least. Anyone who thinks that's "becoming their own man" is out of their mind. Dick is so thoroughly in Batman's shadow that he got shot in the head and spent a longer time as "Ric" which everyone fucking hated and sold like shit, than he did as Agent Grayson which was extremely well-received. Reiterating: Ric went on longer than Grayson because of a fucking Batman plotpoint Tom King wanted where Bruce was sad and cut off from the Batfamily because of Dick getting shot. Not just calling out King either, how many times was Kyle Higgins Nightwing run derailed because of Scott Snyder's crossovers? Or how about that entire run getting dumped to the side because Johns wanted to out Dick during Forever Evil, a Justice League/Lex Luthor story? DC has repeatedly made their contempt for Nightwing clear, he's Batman's sidekick still in their eyes, and he serves whatever story role the Batman writer wants.

Hell his best stories tend to have been the ones where he's not Nightwing. He was Robin in a good chunk of the Wolfman/Perez New Teen Titans run. Morrison really showcased his depth as a character when they wrote him as Batman, their time with Dick under the cowl was actually one of the first Batman runs I ever read, and no Nightwing run has ever matched it in terms of quality in my humble opinion. Scott Snyder's work with DickBats also was a high point for the character, showing Dick as competent and examining his relationship with Gotham and the Gordons. King and Seeley gave him one of the best comic runs with Grayson, a series where he wasn't even a "superhero" technically! When it comes to actual pre-New 52 Nightwing runs that are highly recommended where he *is* Nightwing, there's Chuck Dixon and uhhhhhhh... Tomasi's brief run before Dick became Batman? It's not exactly an overwhelming list.

Look there has been good work done with Nightwing, I'm not claiming there hasn't been. Tim Seeley wrote a great run with Nightwing Rebirth. Seeley fleshed out Dick's Rogues Gallery with cool new ones like Raptor, he brought back old foes like Dr. Hurt (why oh why couldn't you have brought back Flamingo too?), he gave Dick's world some character it solely needed. Bludhaven under Seeley is pretty much the only time I've really felt like it lived up to being Dick's city.

The problem with fictional cities is you have to put in the work to give them the character of real cities. You have to make the cities feel like characters in their own right. Gotham is the best example of this, it's a character all it's own, one that tells you a lot about Batman and his cast. In contrast Bludhaven is usually one of the worst. Any place that wants to claim to be worse than the city that is built over the gate to hell and gets wrecked every other month by the Arkham freaks has to really put in the work to compete. Simply put, Bludhaven typically fails utterly. There's nothing about it that makes you really buy it's worse than Gotham, I mean does anyone really think Nightwing's Rogues wouldn't get their lunches eaten by Batman's? No, no one genuinely buys that. When Bludhaven claims to be worse, it just comes across as tryhard, an attribute that does end up telling you about Nightwing in unintentional ways.

So Seeley didn't do that. Instead he created a city built for a hero like Dick Grayson. Someone who is bright and flashy, but does have an element of darkness to him. Someone who loves the spotlight, but often uses it to obscure. Seeley turned Bludhaven into Las Vegas, and that was the fucking best concept for Bludhaven I have ever seen, it makes so much sense. Las Vegas is the "Entertainment Capital of the World" and isn't that the perfect city for a hero who got their start working in the circus? Isn't the aesthetics of the gleaming casinos, the glamorous sex appeal of the performers, and the spectacle of the shows, all being used to cover up the seediness of mob bosses meeting backstage perfect for Nightwing? It's so utterly unlike New York City, yet Las Vegas is still dangerous, it's got a crime culture all it's own. Seeley used it to great effect, as did Humphries during his brief run, and I will always be pissed that DC didn't continue to use it. That should have stuck around and been the definitive look for Bludhaven.

How Seeley's take on Bludhaven was treated feels like a small scale version of how Nightwing in general gets treated. Whenever creators pitched ideas for him, if editorial thought there was potential to break big, they asked for those ideas to be repurposed for Batman instead. Anything big or good gets repurposed for Batman or tossed to the side so Nightwing can go back to his default: having irrelevant adventures in a city that is supposedly worse than Gotham but can't live up to it. Just like how Nightwing is supposedly better than Batman but never gets to show it. Goddamn it's so frustrating seeing his potential get wasted like that.

The Nightwing book should be one of DC's most ambitious books in terms of storytelling. You can go from traditional superhero stories, to romantic soap opera, to spy stories, to crime noir, to horror, to cosmic adventures, and ALL of them would fit because Nightwing is someone who has a foot in both Gotham and Metropolis. He's got friends everywhere on every team, and has been a hero longer than most Leaguers have at this point. No reason DC should still be afraid to let him loose and insisting on hewing close to what Dixon established almost over 30 years ago is only holding him back. At the very least get him some better Rogues, why the hell didn't he get to keep Professor Pyg? That's Dick's villain not Bruce's! Bullshit that they didn't let Dick keep him. Hopefully Flamingo comes back, with a slight revamp I think he'd make a great reoccurring Nightwing Rogue.

Luckily it does look somewhat like Nightwing fans have reason to be optimistic. While Taylor isn't to my taste, DC clearly views him as a "big" writer, and that they put him on Nightwing says a lot. Taylor has been selling well so far, so hopefully he gets to tell his story, hilarious that even he lampshaded having to write Dick running over to Gotham for another tie-in after Taylor's big opening arc was all about Dick committing himself and his money to Bludhaven. Scott Snyder is apparently working on a Black Label Nightwing book which will explore how he's a different detective than Bruce. The Gotham Knights video game has him as one of the main stars, and while Titans is... controversial, it's one of the most popular streaming shows and Dick is the main character. There's a lot of content coming that features him in the starring role, and that will only help his star rise further.

For the first time in, well, ever it feels like DC may be serious about elevating him. Time will tell if it pays off, but I for one choose to be optimistic that the 2020s will be a turning point for Dick Grayson where Nightwing becomes hugely popular in his own right. Not just as Batman's sidekick.

[malarki]

Harry Potter FanFiction I greatly enjoy (it’s just tomarry and sevitus)

Fair warning, I’m not good at describing stuff, and most of these are not complete (yet) but if you have similar tastes as I do then you’ll definitely like these stories.

Meddling of a Mischief Maker - by Athy

https://archiveofourown.org/works/5380535/chapters/12427268

I enjoy this fic because it shows a more human Voldemort with him still being an asshole as per usual. They do a good job of having Voldemort believably change into a not crazy murderous bastard haha. It also has Sirius interacting with Voldemort and for some reason I find those scenes hilarious in any fic I read.

“Harry's being a horcrux is a bit reworked here in this AU Story set during the summer after 5th year. A Mischief Maker intervenes in the Ministry during Voldemort and Dumbledore's duel, changing the course history. MorallyGrey!Dumbledore, Sirius, Restored Souls, HP/TR”

Draw Me After You (Let Us Run) - by ToAStranger @toast-ranger-to-a-stranger

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22327684/chapters/53334382

This story is a delight, it’s tone is very good and they do a great job of writing in the characters ‘voices’ for their pov’s. I especially like the posh way Voldemort talks and acts. This story is also hilarious on top of just being a very good slowburn, AND it has Sirius, which as you might have guessed, I love dearly. They also don’t bash any of the characters, and instead make them well rounded but flawed individuals, which I really appreciate.

“Harry Potter,” comes the soft, sibilant hiss of a voice he has heard in his dreams, in his nightmares, in his waking hours for years.

Slowly, carefully, Harry twists over and pushes up onto his hands and knees. He stays there, short breath fogging in front of his face, and his pursuer lets him. Harry has no doubt of that; he’s being allowed this respite. This small moment to catch his bearings, heart pounding in his ears, blood singing.

“It seems I have finally caught you.”

Consuming Shadows - by Child_OTKW @childotkw

https://archiveofourown.org/works/7040089/chapters/16011331

I’ve read two of childOTKW’s fics and both of them are fantastically written and attention grabbing stories. This one was the first one I read, and it has a very interesting take on lily Potter (one which I really enjoy) and the plot can leave you on the edge of your seat at times. The characterization is great, and the process of Harry and Tom getting to know each other is done very well.

“His attention skipped passed the students and moved to the politicians’ pavilion. His gaze locked with crimson, and he nearly faltered under the sheer hunger in those eyes.

It unnerved him how fixated the man was on his dirtied, exhausted figure.

But what troubled him more was the slight smirk he could make out on the man’s lips. It was almost pleased.

On the night of the attack, Lily managed to escape with her infant son, but at the cost of her husband’s life. Distraught and distrusting of her friends, she fled to France with Harry, to raise him away from the corruption in Britain and the rising influence of the Dark Lord. She trains him to the best of her abilities, shaping him into a dangerous, intelligent and powerful wizard.

But when Britain re-establishes the Triwizard Tournament, and Harry is forced to return to his once-home, he finds himself questioning whether he really wants to kill the Dark Lord. Voldemort finds an unexpected challenge in the child, and as his intrigue and amusement grows, so too does the desire to possess the spark in those defiant green eyes.”

A story that is kind of similar but not really: The Train to Nowhere

You Belong To Me (I Belong To You) - by child_OTKW

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11270490/chapters/25203408

This is a story inspired by the manwha ‘At The End Of The Road’ by Haribo. A comic I read before reading this, which is very good I recommend it. They do not take the exact plot from the comic though, obviously changing significant details for it to work properly as a Tomarry Fic, but one main thing stays the same, which is that this is a body swap. Honestly I really enjoy childOTKW’s works, and this is no exception. The characterization is wonderful as always, and Harry is Fantastic. Plus I’ve always been a fan of time travel fics. (Fair warning this is another slow burn and Harry centric)

“What I find absolutely fascinating,” Riddle said, stalking closer, “is you.” He marched forward, backing Harry up until he was pinned to the cool wall of the common room. “Do you know why?”

“No. And I’ll be honest here, Riddle, I don’t particularly care.”

The taller boy grinned at him, small yet infinitely pleased. “That. Right there.” One hand rose and brushed some of Harry’s fringe from his face. “Nathan Ciro was a spineless little boy too afraid of his own shadow to dare even glance in my direction. But you…”

He leaned closer, “You look at me like you want to stab me.”

“After an accident, Auror Harry Potter wakes up in the body of fourteen year old Nathan Ciro, a tormented Slytherin who recently tried to end his own life. Seeking answers to his strange predicament, Harry returns to Hogwarts, and causes quite the stir through staff and students - especially when they come to realise he is not the same boy as before.

He tries to avoid suspicion, but as his quest for the truth draws more and more attention to him, Harry begins to think that he might not like what he will discover.”

Some Bonus AU tomarry

A Thousand Paths Among The Stars - by Haplessshippo @haplesshippo

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12015060/chapters/27191238

This is a star trek au and it’s honestly my favorite tomarry au fic. Granted, I am a huge sci-fi fan. There’s also a bit of a twist at the end, or at least it surprised me, due to the way we usually expect tomarry plots to go.

“Harry Potter, newly appointed Captain of the Marauder and son of the famous Captain James Potter, was falling apart at the seams. His crew didn’t respect him, he was lost in the empty expanse of space, nightmares plagued his sleep, and his Commander deserved the Captain position more than he did. Good thing multiple attempts on his life and a vicious warlord after his head was all it took to turn it all around.

Alternatively, that space fic in which Harry Potter almost dies too many times, Tom Riddle slowly becomes the most smitten fool on the ship, and the rest of the crew are all just a bunch of assholes with popcorn watching the show. And exploding ships, don't forget the exploding ships.”

The Matchmaker - by TanninTele

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16507676/chapters/38664089

I am ALSO a huge true crime fan, and this story has a criminal that kinda reminds me of one that might appear in Hannibal (but with less murder). I enjoy the characterization, though tom is pretty tame in this compared to more cannon fics, considering he’s not the criminal and instead an investigator. Harry is also different from how people usually portray him, but I still like it.

“'The Matchmaker' is a serial abductor whose modus operandi consists of pairing two same-sex individuals together in a coffin, six feet underground - buried alive. He isn't a killer. He's a kidnapper with morals, and Detective Chief Inspector Tom Riddle finds himself obsessed with solving the case.

Unfortunately for Tom, the Matchmaker is just as intent on knowing him.”

And on to the Sevitus Stories

Far Beyond A Promise Kept - by oliversnape

https://archiveofourown.org/works/547431/chapters/974693

A classic, Harry stays with snape and unintentionally proves all his assumptions wrong and makes snape care about him. Both the stories have this aspect, but this one has snape a bit nicer from the get go. Probably because it takes place during the third book, so they’ve only known each other two years. It’s quite wholesome though, and I rather enjoy the progression of their relationship.

“Snape never wanted anyone to know of his promise to Dumbledore, but has realised that he can protect Potter much better by taking a less passive role in the boy's training. Actually liking Harry Potter has never been part of his plan. mentor/guardian.”

Crime And Punishment - by melolcatsi

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24102232/chapters/58018174

Snape and Harry have way more of a rocky start in this one, and Snape having to pick Harry up from the police station Really Doesn’t Help Snape’s opinion of him. This story very realistically shows the progression of their relationship, going from enemies to family, and near the ‘end’ (it’s not finished) it becomes very wholesome with Snape trying to help Harry with his mental and physical health after years of abuse/ neglect.

“Harry is accused of burglary. The Dursleys leave him to rot. Dumbledore sends Snape to remedy the situation. Harry finds himself in the care of an irate Snape. Not slash, gen-fic w/ focus on Sevitus relationship. Angst galore. Warnings: coarse and suggestive language, mentions of abuse/neglect. Un-betaed and un-Britpicked.”

[might-be-tiny-gt]

Ok, so I meant to draw another comic for the Ratattorney AU, but then I got busy with school. So I thought I’d write down a quick little drabble and post it. I ended up writing this for 6 hours straight, whoops. Anyways enjoy!

AU by @spirit-small

“Alright Ms. Fey, I think that about all the questions I have for the moment.”

Gumshoe looked up from the notepad he was scribbling in. Truth be told there’s wasn’t much on this page that was of any use to the detective. The suspect before him claims to have walked in and discovered the body, but the evidence says other wise, it has to be her.

The girl in question was dressed in a peculiar fashion. Giant pearls adorned her hair and neck, she wore what Gumshoe could best describe as a robe dress…? And the entire get up was tied up nicely with a bow that wrapped around her waist. Her head hung so low that her dark hair obscured her face. This was his main suspect, Maya Fey, sister of the deceased. Gumshoe recalled how much she sobbed on the drive to the precinct. She seems to be a little better by the time she was brought into question, it was little hard to tell with her hair blocking her face and all, but he took the silence as good sign. Although every so often he could hear the faintest sniffle coming from her direction.

“D-detective..?” She struggled to get the first word out , “What’s- What’s going to happen to me..?“

“Well Pal,” Gumshoe cleared his throat, trying his best to keep a neutral tone with her. “Right now. We’re waiting for an officer to come by, and they’ll take you to a holding cell. You still have your phone call, if you have any family or friends that you need to-“

“I don’t.”

There was beat of bitter silence.

“Ah, well in that case, it might be best to get in contact with a lawyer to take your case,” he briefly checked his watch, “It looks like you have a few hours to get a hold of one.”

“What happens if I can’t get a lawyer to take my case?”

“You’ll be assigned a pubic defender.”

A public defender, she recalled her sister mention them in passing over lunch one time. They weren’t bad per say, but they were leagues behind the highly trained prosecutors that could be assigned to this case. She wouldn’t stand a chance. Maya took a moment to think, she would have called Mia in a heartbeat, but unfortunately that was no longer an option. God, Why? Why did this happen? Who else could help?

“Umm..”

“Yeah Pal?”

“Would you be able to look up a phone number for me? I’d like to call Mr. Grossberg, but I forgot the number.”

“Grossberg… Grossberg.. oh yeah! I’ve seen him around a few times, I’m sure his number is around the office somewhere. Let me just-“

Gumshoe stood up and quickly rushed to the door, he was sure Grossberg must have left a business card with someone in the precinct. Just as he reached for the handle the door burst open.

“DETECTIVE GUMSHOE, SIRRRRRRR!”

Gumshoe couldn’t decided what was worse, Officer Meekins’ loud greeting or the high pitch feedback from his loud speaker that accompanied it. Gumshoe held his head up to his ear tightly, yup, that ringing isn’t going away any time soon.

“Geez Pal, there’s no need to shout.”

“Ah, yes, sorry detective Gumshoe, SIR,” If only this man had a mute button. “But I have a message from the chief, SIR!”

Gumshoe stared down Meekins expectantly, Meekins remained at attention….

“OH RIGHT!”

Meekins sporadically went through each and every pocket on his uniform looking for the darn piece of paper.

“FOUND IT SIR! HERE YOU ARE SIR!”

Gumshoe snatched the paper from Meekins’ shaking hands. The stationary was immediately recognized by the detective as coming front the chief’s desk. He skimmed the note….

“WHAT?!?” Gumshoe eyed his suspect in disbelief, then back to Meekins, “When did you get this?”

“It was faxed to us about thirty minutes ago while you were interrogating the suspect, SIR!”

Gumshoe sighed, turned to the solemn lady still not sure exactly what going on, and presented her with the last thing she expected to hear.

“Well Pal, you’re free to go”

Maya blinked, “What?”

Gumshoe gestured to the crumpled paper in his hands, “Got a fax from the chief, this morning your bail was posted… and paid for.”

“Paid? But who-“

Gumshoe sighed, “According to this, whoever it was did so anonymously.”

“Does that mean…. I can leave?”

“Technically, yes, but there are a few things we need to sort out before you go.”

“O-ok..”

“First of all, you’re still going on trial tomorrow, make sure you make it to the court house on time. If you don’t then we’ll assume you ran and you’ll be charged with attempt of skipping on bail, got that?”

She simply nodded.

“Secondly, we should probably sort out your lawyer situation before you leave. Meekins?”

“YES DETECTIVE GUMSHOE, SIR!?”

Yup, the ringing’s gonna linger for at least a week, “Take the suspect to make her phone call, grab the phone book from my desk, bottom left drawer.”

“YES DETEC-“

“That’s enough, Pal!”

Who’d pay for her bail? Maya thought to her self as Meekins escorted her out of the room. Gumshoe followed them out, but quickly went down the opposite hallway, on his way to continue investigating no doubt. Meekins and Maya quickly reached the detective’s desk and the only thing Maya could do as she waited for the officer to find Gumshoe’s phone book was watch quietly. It was plain to see that Meekins seemed very flighty and unlikely to stand still. But he seemed just a bit more fidgety? He mumbled to himself as he searched each drawer, guess he forgot what bottom left means. That wasn’t the thing that Maya found weird however. He kept aggressive adjusting his hat to the point where it became very distracting. Maya wasn’t the only one to stare as she noticed the detectives who were at their desks watching with mild annoyance.

Maya just about mustered the strength to ask him was wrong when he suddenly shouted in clear frustration. Maya, everyone really, was taken aback, this was definitely out of character. Meekins ripped the hat of his head and began to scratch it relieved. Was all this really over a simple itch? Maya could have sworn she saw something fall out of Meekin’s hat, but it’s was too quick to really tell what. One of the detectives stood up from their desk and stormed up to Meekins, poor guy got an earful. There was a lot of yelling, and sorries, and SIIIIIIIIIRS, to be had. In the end, the detective opened the bottom left drawer of Gumshoes’ desk, begrudgingly handed it to Meekins, and returned to their desk. When he finally turned to face Maya, his face was redder that a tomato. Maya was going to say something but decided against it. She was taken down an empty, a single phone waiting for her. Meekins sheepishly handed her the phone book and stood just out of sight at the end of the hall, the most privacy she could probably get while under suspicion for murder.

She skimmed the phone book and memories came flooding back. She remembers using it when Mia first moved from Kurain Village. There was one in a phone booth near the bus stop, she had to teach herself how to go through it. The first number she ever called using that phone book was Mia’s, just hours after she moved away to study law. She recalled how Mia laughed when she realized who was on the other end.

“I just saw you this morning Maya!”

“But-BUT I MISS YOU SO MUCH SIS!”

“I miss you too,” Her voice was alway so sincere.

“Do- do you like it over there…?”

Mia took a moment to respond, “Of course I am, but there’s just one thing missing…”

“What that?”

“We’ll there’s no little sisters here to run around with, or watch cartoons with, or ya know… break and fix sacred vases with.”

“I- I don’t understand.”

“It just means I need to come back as soon as possible to say hi and give you the biiiiiiiiiigest hug!”

“Promise..?”

“I Promise.”

They probably would’ve talked longer if Morgan hadn’t caught Maya skipping her lessons to call Mia. By the time Maya had found Grossberg’s number the page was dripping. She took a breath, and dialed the the number.

Ring

“Please pick up...”

Ring

“I don’t know how much more of this I can take…”

Ring

“PLEASE.”

CLICK

“Grossberg Law Offices,” It definitely wasn’t Grossberg, probably the receptionist, “How can I help you?”

“Hi yes,” Maya didn’t realize how shaking her voice was until now, “My name is Maya Fey, and I need Mr. Grossberg’s help. I need him to defend me in court tomorrow!”

“Maya Fey?”

“YES MAYA FEY,” Maya hated how worked up she got, “My.. my sister used to work for Mr. Grossberg, she told me if I was ever in trouble to call him.”

“One moment please.”

The phone clicked, Maya could barely make out mumbling in the background. It took quite sometime, but finally there was a response.

“Hello,” It was the same voice from before.

“Yes!?”

“I’m sorry Ms. Fey, but Mr. Grossberg’s unavailable at the moment.”

Maya’s heart sunk if a way she had never felt before, “He’s…….. not……?”

“No, Mr. Grossberg has another very big case to deal with at the moment. He doesn’t have time to take another,” How can they sound so insincere?

“Please, there has to be another lawyer! Someone? ANYONE?!”

“Like I said ma’am, this is a very big case, all the lawyers at the firm are working on it.”

“All of the-“

The receptionist cut her off, “I’m sorry we couldn’t be of more help, good luck with your case.”

“No Wait, PLEASE! AT LEAST LET ME TALK TO-”

BEEP

They hung up. Her only hope just hung up on her. Maya’s knees went weak, she didn’t even have the strength to put the phone back on the hook before she collapsed. She couldn’t hold it back any longer, her tears fell like rain fall. The sound of violent sobbing and the droning dial tone echoed down the hall.

“Ack!”

Maya perked her head up at the sound. What was that?

Ahem.

It came from below her. But… she was on her barley on her knees, what could have possibly ahemed below her.

Looking down she saw him, the tiny man in the blue suit she saw at the office. He looked back up at her with an empathetic and sheepish half smile. Maya was still still shocked at what she was looking at to properly process that this poor guy was soaking wet, no thanks to her.

“It’s you,” Before she realized it, Maya leaned closer, the man backed up cautiously as she did so.

“Y-yeah,” His voice was just as shaky as hers, “Are you ok..?”

“NO, OF COURSE NOT,” She wanted to yell, but she could only shake her head in silence.

The man pursed his lips, certainly unsure of what to say. He eyed her hand and walked over and gave it a pat of reassurance. It was awkward to say the least. Maya was sure that if this man was her size, this would be a pat on the back or head. She couldn’t help but stare, his hand was barley the size of her fingernail. It’s not that she didn’t notice that this guy was impossibly tiny, but in this moment is when she finally internalized it.

“What are you..?”

“Oh, ummm,” The man was clearly caught off guard, “I’m Phoenix.”

“That’s not what I asked..”

“Right…. I’m a borrower.”

“What’s a borrow-“

“Look,” She was cut off again, “I know you probably have a million questions, and I’ll be happy to answer them later. But right now you need to get out of here.”

“Why?”

“I was able to get you out on bail, but it won’t be long until they catch on.”

Maya was disbelief, “You paid my bail?”

Phoenix looked away, “Well…….”

“Well?”

“So, the thing is, I may have snuck into one of the detective’s offices and sent a fake message saying that you’re bail was settled.”

“What,” This was the closest to shouting Maya felt comfortable getting. She didn’t want startle Phoenix or alert Meekins.

Phoenix held his hand behind his head, “Y-yeah…. I don’t have any human money, but I remember Mia talking about bail, and I figured-“

“You knew my sister?!”

“Y-yes… I ummmm,” He got teary eyed, “She was my friend, a really good friend.”

It was clear to Maya now that she wasn’t the only one who suffered in the last few hours.

“She never mentioned you.”

“She wanted to introduce you, really, but I, umm, I wasn’t ready to…. I wasn’t comfortable yet with……. I’m supposed to be a secret.”

“But you’re talking to me now?”

“I can’t just hide in the walls and do nothing!”

Maya was touched, just when it felt like the world was against her.

“I heard everything,” he gestured to the phone dangling beside them, dial tone still droning on, “I have an idea, but we need to be quick about it.”

“What is it?”

“I know it’s not much… but I’ve learned a lot about law with Mia, and before that I was already familiar with the basics and, well, it’s better than nothing, but maybe…”

“You want to defend me..?”

“I’d want to, believe me, but I can’t stand in court, not as I am,” he gestured at all of him.

“Oh…”

“But you can!”

“What!?”

“Mia once told me that an accused individual has the right to defend themselves in court!”

“Phoenix,” Saying his name made this whole thing feel more real and absolutely insane, “I’m not a lawyer, I don’t know anything about how this works!”

“That’s why I’ll be with you! If…..you’ll have me…”

This was crazy. Defending herself in court. Crazy! Being assisted by a lawyer that fits in the palm of her hand. Crazy! The fact that tiny lawyers that life in the walls of law offices apparently exist. CRAZY! But despite the absolutely absurdity and hopelessness of the present situation, Maya couldn’t help but smile for the first time in what felt like eons. Without thinking she snatched Phoenix in her hands held him near her chest, the biggest hug she possibly give her tiny attorney.

“Thank you, THANK YOU!”

At first Phoenix panicked, he certainly didn’t enjoy being grabbed so suddenly. Maya didn’t exactly have the same delicate touch Mia did. But as soon as she pulled him away and he saw her tearful smile shine through, he couldn’t help but think of Mia, they had the same smile.

“I’m glad I can help, Maya.”

Officer Meekins, for his part, did what he was told properly. He stood guard diligently and the suspect didn’t get past him, no sirree! He had been been waiting patiently for a good twenty minutes. There were tears, there was yelling, there were dial tones but he stood his ground. After all, his older hardboiled co workers said that it was to be expected, not all lawyers take cases and there’s nothing to be done about it. So imagine his surprise when he approached by a significantly perkier than twenty minutes ago suspect.

“Officer?”

“Y-Y-Y-Y-Y YES MA’AM!?”

“I have a lawyer, who should I talk to before I leave?”

“That would be Detective Gumshoe, MA’AM.”

“Would you mind taking me to him please?”

“Of course, MA’AM. Please come with me MA’AM!”

And so Meekins escorted the young lady down the hall, past the offices, and down the stairs. Sure enough Gumshoe was seated at a bench next to the vending machine they had in the lobby, according to Meekins this was his lunch break. When Gumshoe caught them approaching he quickly scarfed down the last of his candy bar and stood up as if he been caught doing something wrong and needed to cover for it.

“Mm-Meekins,” he wasn’t done chewing, “I didn’t expect you back so soon.”

“Yes, Detective Gumshoe, SIR! The suspect ask to speak with you, Sir!”

Gumshoe peered behind Meekins to get a good view at Maya. She seemed better emotionally speaking, even if the red on her face made it clear she was crying not to long ago. Oddly enough she had her hair parted in front of shoulders, maybe it was fashion statement.

“So how’d it go with Grossberg? Should I inform the prosecutor’s office that he’s defending ya?”

Maya shook her head, “No detective, Grossberg couldn’t defend me.”

“Oh, then I guess I need to call for a public defender then?”

“Nope,” Maye held her head up high, “I’m defending myself!”

Gumshoe laughed, now he got why she was so happy all of a sudden, bet she was saving this joke for a bit. But then he noticed she wasn’t laughing with him.

“Wait pal, you serious?”

“Yes,” Maya held her fists in front of her with determination, “I’ve decided to defend myself, it is my legal right!”

“Look pal, I’m telling you now, you’re better off with a public defender. You won’t stand a chance against Edg-“

“Don’t try to talk me out of it. I’ve made up my mind,” she briefly looked to her shoulder and nodded, “and since I’ll be defending myself, then I’d like to ask you for a copy of the autopsy report.”

Gumshoe couldn’t stop himself from staring in disbelief. He looked to Meekins for some sort of help, should’ve know that wasn’t going to be of any use.

He looked back at Maya, “You sure about this pal?”

“Yes.”

Gumshoe sighed, guess there was nothing he could do about it, “Meekins, get me a copy of the autopsy report!”

“YES, DETECTIVE GUMSHOE SIR!”

[allronix]

Carth and Force Sensitivity (crossposted from Reddit r/kotor)

This is for @k-she-rambles:

Okay, so while we're shooting the bantha crap over on KOTOR fan theories, u/134340Goat mentioned my all time favorite "Have you been chewing spice?!" fan theory when it comes to KOTOR: Is Carth Force Sensitive?

So this one starts with a story. I mentioned my brother in law, who is pretty much Keeper of the Jedi Archives. Seriously, he's an English teacher and my sister is a librarian. They met at a sci fi convention and their first date was Phantom Menace. We're taking not just geeks, but geeks who can throw the damn bookshelf at you. Brother in law bought KOTOR on the day it launched and turned it into a week long binge watch at his house. And because brother in law is that kind of geek, he's translating the characters into the West End D6 system. I'm watching him do a playthrough, and he's got Canderous and Zaalbar at Ajunta Pal's tomb.

Allronix: Huh. That's odd. Why aren't commenting on anything when Ajunta is speaking?

Bro in law: Oh. They can't even see Ajunta. You have to be Force Sensitive to see a Force Ghost The stronger your Sensitivity, the better you can see it.

Allronix: Really? Then how come Carth can see it?

Bro in law (gets the "holy shit, I gotta confirm this" look): Really?! He just sees something out the corner of his eye or something?

Allronix: No, he sees Ajunta just fine. Understands what the dude's saying too.

Bro in law instantly rolls back to his last save, swaps Zaalbar for Carth, and sees the bit in question.

Bro in law: Oh. Dear. (Goes over to make some quick scribbles on Carth's character sheet)

Okay, so maybe that was a lore fail. I didn't really think about it too much until I hit that False Level Up glitch and ran around with Carth and Mission as Sentinels. Now, while I couldn't really see Mission as a Sensitive, that little bit with my bro in law nagged at me. And became a "once you see it you can't unsee it." Apologies to TV Tropes, where some of these were my additions to the Wild Mass Guess entry on this topic.

Any one of these on its own is pretty easy to blow off. After all, man is career military, and knows All this Shit is Weird. I also like to think of Sensitivity as a spectrum and not a switch. If all life is connected by the Force, then all life would be Sensitive to some degree or another. It’s just a matter of to what degree. It’s only as the list gets longer and longer does the case start looking damning...

What are the odds of surviving that attack on the Endar Spire, getting to the escape pods, sharing the last escape pod with the mindwiped Sith Lord, piloting through the chaos, landing in what passes for the "good" part of town, remaining uninjured, pulling the badly injured mindwiped Sith Lord from the wreck, evading Sith detection while all this is going on, and just happening to find a dump of an apartment where the landlord's not asking questions? That is one amazing string of coincidences and good luck. Get that many in Star Wars, and it's definitely The Force sticking its nose in things.

Piloting the escape pod to land in the Upper City, piloting the Hawk through the Sith Blockade of Taris, the random Sith patrols, the escape from the Leviathan, and the fleet around Lehon along with the crash landing that left the ship easily repairable. Now, compare to Atton who we know to be an excellent pilot and drawing on The Force who still manages to crash the ship at least three times.

He's a scary good judge of character if you're interacting with other NPCs. If you watch him with other NPC characters, he's got a pretty good compass as to which characters are being helpful and which ones are full of shit. The only one he calls incorrectly is Rukil, who is probably also an untrained Sensitive (the age, the "marked" comments) and half senile, which is probably throwing him.

Related to that, his distrust and wariness about something not adding up with the PC, the Jedi Council feeding the party a line of bull, that things just aren't adding up. And on all of it? Dead on. He's 100% right about the Player Character, he just expected something a little less crazy than "that's Darth freaking Revan."

If you play Female Revan, then Carth's the one who gets fried in the torture cages on the Leviathan. Saul comments how strange it is that Carth takes so much punishment and still remains conscious. Now, this is a low level thing, but in lore, Force Sensitives have drawn on it to keep them alive or conscious under duress. Explicitly, the first sign we got that Leia was a Sensitive when she withstood the Imperial torture droid.

Another of his scary ass judge of character feats? In the comics, Zayne (who is on the run from the Jedi, who framed him for the murder of his classmates) has a vision that Mandalorians are coming for Serroco. Saul? Laughs it off, throws Zayne in the brig. Zayne's own friends don't even believe him. Carth gets one of those creepy hunches and starts calling in "duck and cover" sirens as far as he can broadcast, which sends seventeen cities and millions of people heading for shelter. It saves their lives and Carth is called a hero for it. Armed with another hunch, he disobeys Saul (remember this is before Saul nukes Telos) and lets Zayne "escape" from custody. Mind you, not even the Jedi or his party members believed Zayne. Carth did.

Carth makes a lot of creepy weird offhand predictions about the future. He says he knows on some level he'll be there when Saul dies. That certainly pans out. He makes an offhand prediction that the Jedi have set the party up to take a fall. Right again. He tells a female PC that she'll have to make a choice soon, one she can't walk away from. And then we get the temple top. He even blurts out that "I sensed you would have to make a choice soon, and that was it*, I can feel it!"* If you specify a LS Female Revan, his recording for T3-M4 says he's had a hunch Revan would leave without warning. Again, spot on.

Specify a LS male Revan, and Carth will remark to Bastila that seeing the Exile reminds him "there are worse things to lose." The only other people who can see just how screwed up the Exile is are the Jedi Masters, Chodo Habat, and the Force Sensitive party members.

Specify a LS female Revan, and Carth will insist that he would know if Revan were dead (again, scary ass intuition) and that there's an "emptiness" where she used to be. Now, remember one of the things about a broken Force Bond? It would simply be "empty, a wound."

You know how your party members in KOTOR 2 feel upset or even horrified as they realize they feel compelled to protect Exile and can't being themselves to leave, even when said actions are kicking puppies? And how they swing wildly from being crazy, almost stalker level possessive of them to being scared out of their wits and clamming up when you try to pry anything out of them? And the more potent (and untapped) their Force Sensitivity, the more they get hammered with the effect? (Mira and Atton in particular) Yeah. Now, Carth's "I don't wanna talk" looks a bit different, doesn't it? It could also account for that romance arc, especially if you roll a DSF Revan and go for that "everyone dies" ending.

Again, Ajunta Pal. Seeing a Force Ghost? Yeah. Some degree of Sensitivity needed. Understanding what he's saying? Yeah. Takes a bit more than that. And Carth makes a weirdly insightful comment about the Dark Side on top of it.

Notice that this a wall o text argument already, and I'm now just getting to the "Yeah, his kid is able to throw around mid-level Dark Side powers and packing a red lightsaber." Given the jawline and the muleheaded attitude, no way Morgana was fooling around with the pizza delivery boy. That's definitely Carth's kid, and that's definitely Force Sensitivity. Now, while it can skip a generation (see Theron Shan), it tends to run pretty heavy in families.

Lastly? Gee. He comes from a planet settled by and heavily populated by descendants of Force Sensitives who failed their training. I'm also willing to bet some bastard children of Jedi get passed off as "foundlings" and "orphans" and dumped there, too. Jedi are forbidden attachments, but not sworn to celibacy, so...yeah, bastard kids are gonna happen. There's probably a Jedi or two in that family tree. It's circumstantial evidence at best, but it still supports the case.

Now, any arguments I missed? Counterarguments?

And the million credit question: If there's a character who gets to break this news to poor Flyboy, who do you think would actually take that on? How do you think Carth would take that kind of news? And what, if anything, would come of it?

I kinda figure Jolee might be the only one nuts enough to poke that with a stick...I also kinda figure "Sentinel" would fit best. Consular? Hell no. He hired Mical for that. Guardian works with the feats, but the whole "ferreting out deceit and injustice?" Yeah. That's Carth.