#spectre caught on camera

[hauntingofthelamb]

blurry bites ୨୧

[calaisreno]

The Client

936 words / Prompt: Secret

Mary looks at the chair. John can’t be serious. “Why?”

The look he gives her is terrible. She knows his temper, but this is the first time she’s seen Captain Watson, who could shoot a man and have no trouble sleeping afterwards. 

“Because that’s where they sit,” he whispers fiercely. “You’re a client now, Mary. That’s all you are. That’s where you sit and talk, and we listen and decide if we want you or not.”

Sherlock is looking sort of grey. She wonders how he managed to sneak out of the hospital and set this up. Was it really necessary? Did he not think that John would believe him?

Her husband—well, the marriage probably isn’t legal, and now that he knows he’s married to a woman who’s been lying since the day they met, he’s obviously not going to stay. Right now, he can’t even look at her. 

Sherlock nods at her. She’s not sure why he’s trying to help her. Or why she didn’t kill him when she had a chance. She was rattled, or she would have done it properly, and this conversation wouldn’t be happening. 

She thought she was finally safe. John is exactly the kind of man she would marry. If Sherlock hadn’t come back, they could have been happy. John is angry now, and it’s not all about her. He’s in love with Sherlock, and it’s something he can’t admit, even to himself. 

Maybe she should have simply disappeared. 

She still could.

“You know what?” She stands in front of John’s chair, glaring down at him. “Forget this bullshit. Open your eyes, John. This—” She pats her belly. “It isn’t real. There’s no baby.” 

He sits up, wide-eyed now.

She smirks. “Don’t pretend you didn’t suspect. You didn’t want to believe it, so you stopped paying attention.”

John’s speechless for a moment, then stammers. “But… why would you do that?”

“Without the baby, I would have lost you.” She turns to Sherlock. “Thanks, but I’ll handle Magnussen on my own.” 

Picking up her handbag, she walks towards the door. On the threshold she turns and gives her parting shot. “Pull your heads out of your arses, boys. See ya.”

John stares after her until they hear the door downstairs slam. He turns to Sherlock. “What the hell just happened?”

Sherlock tries to push himself up from his chair. “John… I think…”

Heavy feet are clattering up the stairs. John looks towards the door, where the paramedics have appeared. 

“Did somebody call an ambulance?”

Sherlock gasps. “Did you bring any morphine?”

A week later…

BBC News. According to Detective Greg Lestrade of Scotland Yard, the investigation into the death of media mogul Charles Augustus Magnussen has turned up no clues to the identity of his killer, or how they came to Appledore, his residence. Security footage is being examined, but the killer obviously knew their target and took care not to be caught on camera. All leads will be pursued, he says, but it appears to be a professional job.

Months later…

“You know, Sherlock, we didn’t need to have such a big wedding.”

“Don’t say that to Mummy. It’s always been her ambition to plan one. And I’m finding I don’t mind it so much.”

“I don’t even know half of these people. Other than Harry, I assume they’re all your relatives.”

“Most are. And acquaintances. My parents have a lot of friends.”

“Mycroft looks… well, less dyspeptic than usual.”

“Every feast needs a spectre, John.”

“Oh, look, he’s talking with Greg. And he’s actually smiling.”

“Who?”

“Oh, give it up, Sherlock. Greg Lestrade.”

“Ah, yes. They do seem rather… friendly. Interesting…”

“Who’s the woman with the hair?”

“All the women have hair, John. Not a single bald woman in the hall. Oh, I see. Looks like a wig. Probably some mystery relative. She’s talking with my cousin Pansy. Mummy will know.”

“Not important. Just… she seems familiar. Look, here’s Harry. Glad she made it this time.”

“Harry! Come here—I need to dance with my sister-in-law.”

“All right, Sherlock—does this mean Johnny gets to dance with Mycroft?”

“Absolutely not! I’m not dancing with Mycroft, even if he’s secretly running the country.”

“Well, your loss. Come on, Sherlock. John says you’re a good dancer. Let me see you get your boogie on.”

“My what?”

“Mrs Holmes! This is all lovely. Thank you so much.”

“Of course, John! And please, you must call me Viola. Where’s your husband?”

“He’s dancing with Harry. Say, who’s that woman over there with the dark hair and large glasses? She was just talking with Pansy.”

“Oh… I don’t know, John. I thought she was one of yours.”

“No, she’s not. Oh, look, she’s leaving.”

“Honestly, who leaves a wedding early? Sherlock, do come here!”

“Yes, Mummy?”

“It’s your wedding! Dance with your husband, dear! I’m going to look for mine.”

“Gladly. Come here, John.”

“Sherlock, that woman—”

“Yes, John. I know.”

“Does Mycroft know?”

“He told me she was dead. But he’s been wrong about dead people before.”

“Why do you think she came here?”

“You mean, why did she crash our wedding? I think she just wanted to make sure you’re fine. That we’re fine.”

“Is this what she meant by ‘get your heads out of your arses’?”

“I believe so.”

“Well, I’m glad she’s not vengeful.”

“No, I don’t believe she is. And I don’t bear her any ill-will.”

“No? Hm. I do, just a bit. But tonight, I only want to think about you.”

“Do you? Then I’ll just have to keep your attention, won’t I?”

“You always do, love.”

--

All my May Prompts 2024 can be read on AO3 here.

[adh-d2]

It's not so much that I needed Tech to be alive.

I wanted Tech to live, but I grieved his character when he died.

Then the hints started coming. The narrative focus shifted to this mysterious new character and signaled that he was important somehow. The theories started spreading. Week after week the 'camera' lingered on long, slow shots of a helmet that wouldn't come off.

So yeah, I stopped grieving. The longer it went on the more convinced I became that this must be Tech, because clearly it was someone important. Otherwise it would just be poor writing. This show isn't written poorly.

Case-in-point, what a beautiful finale. My heart was in my throat the entire time. I cried. I loved it. Taken on its own, I'd go so far as to say it was perfect.

-

Except for the fact that the CX plotline came to nothing. Seriously. We've followed it all season, and it came to nothing? I'm not even clear on what happened. There were more of them. They were kind of an anti-Bad-Batch? Except not really? There was a big one that pulled Wrecker's signature move. There was one with knives. They were regs? I think? One lost its helmet in a background shot so I guess we can conclude they were all regs. With different builds. And different accents. I suppose it doesn't matter, since they all died after a few minutes of screentime having meant nothing to the protagonists. They were a boss fight. The plot marches on.

-

It's entirely possible I got too caught up in the speculation. Maybe when I look back on all the posts I wrote and liked and reblogged it will be obvious that we were reaching. But right now from here in the thick of it, I swear there's so much to see! Do you mean to tell me they really didn't notice it in the writers room? That it was all a complete coincidence?

Would it have been better if someone on the creative team had just come out and confirmed that Tech wasn't coming back? I don't know. I don't think they were obligated to. But when a good 50% of the discourse about your show ending is speculation on this particular CX character, and the answer isn't even a different plot twist, but that the character means nothing at all...well, you can see how the team could have avoided some disappointment.

Maybe this is a bad take. I don't know how I feel. I wish I could have enjoyed the finale without having to grieve again for a character we'd already lost.

For now I'll end by saying that I loved this show and I can't wait to rewatch it someday on its own merit, without the spectre of 'is-it-could-it-be-no-please-let-it-be' clouding my judgement.

[desaulnierss]

Adding onto this, I personally ran Salamander Dagger head on Acidic Crystal Spear handle for some poking (the City Longspear has a longer reach but is slower in a way that’s unhelpful for this fight), fully upgraded Puppet String, and the Friendship Wishstone.

The Spectre is unfortunately hit or miss in boss fights wrt actually helping, but can be useful to draw aggro and let you get some attacks in, as @venigni said, or even give you a second to breathe, and that’s definitely true here. (There’s a specific Wishstone for it but imo you don’t even need to buy it because it happens naturally lol. Caveat: This works better in some fights than others because of tracking — not recommended for Black Rabbit Brotherhood gank.) If you’re using the Friendship Wishstone, pop ✨the Cube✨ when Giangio Romeo you from the future, stronger and cooler the Spectre has about half of his health left for maximum effect.

Use Puppet String to build up stagger while he’s on all fours. He’s fairly susceptible to it; I think it was about three times I had to use it before that health bar went white. (It’s also just goated.)

For his actual attacks, although his second phase is a spicier version of the Scrapped Watchman, try approaching him like Archbishop Andreus instead. That is, stay in his face and dodge INTO him. This sounds counterintuitive and in most other fights you’ll have a bad time, but for whatever reason he’s similarly less able to hit you at that close range, and he’s more manageable if you don’t give him an opportunity to ever use his ranged attacks. Ideally, roll into him at an angle (left) so you end up on his right side (many bosses are weak here it seems), or end up going right through his legs, because most of his attack AoE is directly right in front of him — and because just like Andreus you wanna target his ass. Just completely go to town on him back there, especially if the Spectre has his attention.

His burrowing attack can be avoided by running around, but if you learn the timing to dodge or even block/parry it it’s super punishable. He telegraphs pretty obviously: hit him with a charged heavy attack when he stands up on two legs, but watch out for whenever he shakes his head in particular.

If you’re trying to hone your parrying skills, my general advice is that it’s more practical to pick one or two specific attacks and focus on mastering perfect guarding those, rather than trying to do so with everything. His Scrapped Watchman punch with the windup is a good one to learn, for instance. Remember, too, that if you’ve played other Souls games before (Sekiro especially), you may actually need to unlearn some muscle memory, because Lies of P is the opposite and the window for a successful parry is based on you, not the enemy. Generally, you want to press the block button as soon as you see an attack start to connect (i.e. a limb moving toward you) and HOLD, not tap it — if you’re early, you still get a block and can regain health by attacking.

ok i tried everything. i just can't beat him. fuck the green monster. Got the scrapped watchmen first try but this thing? even with an specter? idk. king of puppets was somehow fun and even victor was "easy" after i knew his moves. but the monster seems to have no window for a attack? he's constantly moving and I can't land a punch. for the first time i really don't enjoy this game ffs.

[sarahmadisonxoxo]

An idea that  @spectrum-spectre had inspired a scene in the dark pits of my mind.  Soulmate  AU’s in which people see color at the sight of their soulmate. The rules aren’t specific on whether that is only true if the meeting is in person, or if looking at photographs or videos brings on the same effect.  Soulmates AU Part 2 ---------------------------- Steve returns from the kitchen holding a large bowl of popcorn and two cans of coke from the fridge. Dustin’s been staying with him for a while, and as usual their afternoon consisted of watching television until their bodies screamed for sleep.  This particular afternoon Steve let Dustin choose what they’d watch. Dustin was usually left to make the choice simply because Steve wanted him to be comfortable, but it wasn’t something they mentioned. He’d so far been enjoying Dustin’s pick, the MTV music awards. There had been several artist that Steve adored. Tears for Fears. Madonna.  Dustin however was watching for Corroded Coffin, his newest favorite band that he listened to seemingly nonstop these days. The kid was obsessed, but again Steve didn’t complain because his home was Dustin’s home if he accepted it. It was nice to have someone around to liven up the overwhelming emptiness of the Harrington estate.  Steve set the popcorn down on the coffee table, dropping down next to Dustin on the couch, when his eyes came up to see the television screen color burst from the center of his gaze flooding out to adjust his vision until everything settled and grey was changed with vivid colors he’d only heard about in books.  His soulmate... the only issue was the angle of the camera was showing dozen’s of faces. He’d never be able to tell which one of them sparked the change. It was the whole point of it, making finding soulmates easier. Of course Steve would find a way to fuck his up.... he’d never find them. That show was several states away, the likelyhood of ending up in a room with one of them was nearly impossible. Even if he did, now he wouldn’t have a way to tell him who it was.  “ I think I am going to go to bed..” Steve hums.  “ Bed? Steve it’s eight thirty? “  “ Yeah... Work was just a lot today and I guess it’s just hitting me how tired I am” Steve explained.  Dustin didn’t seem to buy it, but he didn’t argue.  “ Okay.. Goodnight man. “  “ Night”  Steve cried his eyes out that night... over someone he didn’t even know.  ----------- “ thanks for driving me Steve.. I can’t believe they are coming Chicago on a day I can actually attend the convention. “ Dustin stood next to him in the line to get in to meet one of the guy’s from Corroded Coffin.. Steve planned on leaving the line before Dustin went behind the curtain, but he didn’t feel like being alone in here. Everyone seemed chill.. He was just feeling overwhelmed.  “ No problem Dustin.”  Slowly the line progressed foward, Steve eventually dropping out to go stand at the edge of the booth to wait. Letting himself get distracted by the excitement of those leaving the booth. Smiling at them as they ran out with their autographed pictures. He caught sight of Eddie.. or at least that’s who he assumed it was with the sign. The guy was pretty. His smile was bright and filled his face, dimples standing out to soften the rest of the edge his clothing might lead you to think he had.  When he heard Dustin’s voice Steve could only smile at the pure joy and excitement of the kid meeting one of his favorite people. He couldn’t remember hearing him so happy about anything other than when he’d finished building his Cerebro last summer.  The curtain opened, Steve’s eyes met Eddie’s for the first time that day as the man was telling Dustin goodbye.  They didn’t make it far from the booth before he heard someone calling Dustin’s name.. them both turning around to find Eddie running toward them.  “ Sorry I didn’t know your name...” Eddie apologized, taking Steve’s hands in his own. A small crowd forming around them with people muttering how Steve was living everyone's dream right now.  “ Steve? Is everything okay man? “ Steve questioned, Eddie’s face falling as he noticed the utter confusion written over Steve’s features.  “ you didn’t see it” Eddie questioned. “ See what?  “ The color? You didn’t. Oh shit. “  “ The color?..” Steve started, his eyes looking off in thought “ Oh... it was you. On the tv.. I must have seen you. “  “ TV? “  “ The MTV Awards...”  “ Steve that was nearly a year ago... you’ve had color for? “  “ Nearly a year yeah...”  “ Oh shit..” Eddie thought allowed, processing that the confusion was because Steve had been seeing color the whole time. “ Can I take you out sometime? You know if you want. I don’t know if you do this whole thing, but I think it would be pretty cool”  “ Eddie”  “ Yeah”  “ I’d love to go out with you sometime”  “ Great” Eddie cheered, a small smile pulling at his lips, offering his sharpie over to Steve. “ just write your number on my arm”  Eddie tugged his sleeve up to give Steve space in a place that could be hidden on his arm. Both of them smiling like fools the entire time.  “ You should get back to your fans.. “  “ Yeah.. I will call you tonight. “  “ I can’t wait” 

[jor-elsemissary]

Okay new idea just formed after emerald FINALLY answered my ask.

Court of owls FRAMING Lionel for the Wayne's. Murder

Imagine the ways we can go with this.

Lionel finding Batman waiting for him in his room. Bruce tries to scare him into talking. Lionel....not scared at all.

Lionel: I have been kicked, stabbed and shot.

Lionel: I have been beaten up by people stronger than you beyond your comprehension. Do you really think you scare me?

Bruce:

Lionel: Look into my ass you bat bitch. Do you see the face of fear?

Bruce: I see the face of a man who needs help.

Lionel Luthor had faced many enemies over the years that had wanted to hurt or kill him, or do the same to those he cared about. From super strengthened teenagers to wronged employees and self-righteous aliens; being confronted by a deranged man who dressed up like a bat was the least intimidating of his encounters.

At least that is how it had started out.

He had been in his office ruminating over the problem that was Patricia Swann’s murder. He had just been confronted by Lois Lane and her barnacle partner, Jimmy Olsen, earlier in the day. He was left unsettled at how close he was in losing everything again and this time he really wasn’t the guilty party.

Thoughts of prison and his experience there sent a shiver up his spine and had him stand up from his desk to go get himself a drink to help settle his nerves. He had been pouring such a drink when the lights in his office had suddenly gone out.

Annoyed and concerned, he sat the bottle of cognac down and returned to his desk. He reached for his cellphone and turned on the camera flash for a light while he tried to dial for security on his desk phone. Something was caught in the light briefly that startled him into dropping the new iPhone and as he scrambled to pick it up again and shine it where he had seen something, there was nothing except furniture and artwork.

“Who’s there?” he demanded cautiously as he scanned his office with the light. When there was no response, he set the phone back down and continued to dial for security. He knocked back what little of the cognac he had poured as he waited for an answer.

He should have gone for his pistol under the desk instead.

“Lionel Luthor,” a gruff voice spoke from behind him, that if he had been his younger self, probably would have caused him to jump over his desk in fright. Instead, he carefully turned around while his hand fumbled for the panic button under the lip of the desk. “That won’t help you,” the black spectre warned just before he was grabbed by the collar of his shirt and slammed into his desk.

“W… who are you? What do you want?” Lionel demanded to know, one hand latching onto the wrist of the dark assailant. He could barely see the silhouette of the man against the backdrop of his office window and The Daily Planet building beyond it.

“I am Batman,” he answered and dark eyes narrowed dangerously. He could see now why he would be called that if the points he saw in the dark were the ears and the rustling of leather that he heard were the wings. “And you are a murderer.”

“If you’re here to get revenge on something I may or may not have done,” Lionel tried to loosen the man’s grip on him but it was like trying to pry Clark Kent off of him instead. “Get in line.”

He was lifted off his desk and slammed against the window of his office hard. He heard a series of cracks as the glass began to spiderweb against his back. “You murdered Thomas and Martha Wayne,” the costumed freak accused and Lionel’s eyes widened.

“Why do you care?” Apparently those were the wrong words to say as the Batman slammed him against the glass again and the window shattered this time. Wind rushed past them, a leather cape blanketing them both from either side. “You’re insane!” Lionel held onto the man’s arms as his toes scrambled for purchase on the edges of his office floor.

“They were good people!” Batman growled hatefully. Lionel could see a little more detail about the man in the golden light of the Daily Planet globe and saw that he was young, perhaps about Lex’s age even. The costume he wore wasn’t advanced, more like something his mother had made in her spare time. “They were trying to help Gotham City and were murdered in a back alley with their son as witness!”

With the way it was said and the amount of emotion that was behind the words, Lionel knew this was personal and had nothing to do with some random Gotham vigilante wanting to avenge a cold case. He stared at the man carefully, noting the color of his eyes behind the black kohl and the shape of his jawline. “Bruce?”

That seemed to have thrown the man off as his grip slackened slightly and Lionel felt himself starting to slip through. He scrambled to hold onto the young man, “Bruce… Listen to me! Why would I want to kill the Waynes? What would have I gained from it?”

“That is what you’re going to tell me,” Bruce Wayne demanded, his grip tightening again now that the shock of being found out wore off. He leaned Lionel further out the broken window in a show of intimidation.

“I didn’t murder them!” Lionel protested, his voice unusually calm for someone who was hanging out of his office window. “And even if there was something I wanted from Thomas, I wouldn’t have killed him for it!”

“Liar! The evidence I have gathered indicates you are the one who hired Joe Chill!”

“Then I have the right to trial if that is true!”

“No!” the costumed billionaire snarled. “Men like you always find a way to avoid prison. You managed it once already with the murders of your own parents!”

“I did not kill my parents!” Lionel snarled defiantly.

“I’m not here for them,” Batman pulled the billionaire closer to him so they were face to face. “I’m here for mine.” He then shoved the man out the window.

Lionel Luthor was not a man easily intimidated, but he realized he should have felt a little fear in face of what had happened. He should have tried harder to reason with the young man and perhaps he wouldn’t be falling out of his own office building. But at least he could refuse to grant Bruce a terrified scream no matter how terrified he was in these last seconds of his life.

Then just as suddenly as he was flung, he came to an abrupt and very pain halt. An agony of the likes he hadn’t felt since he had sprained his ankle many years ago going down the stairs of his manor, shot up his leg that did tear a scream from his lungs.

Something had wrapped around his ankle tightly, snapped at his leg and whiplashed him into another window of his office building as he slammed into it. His entire leg from his ankle to his hip was on fire. Even his back was smarting more from his leg being pulled out of its socket than from hitting the building.

Blood rushed to his head as a dizziness threatened to empty his stomach.

He numbly felt his body being pulled upward and when he stopped, Lionel dared to glance above him at the gothic figure hovering above from his broken office window. The man sat perched on the edge, his leather cape bellowing in the wind as he glared down at his prisoner.

“Why did you have them killed?” Bruce demanded to know.

It took Lionel a moment to gather enough of his senses and suppress the nausea long enough to answer, “I didn’t! It wasn’t me!”

“You were the last person my father spoke to before he took us to the movies!”

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean I did it, Bruce!” Lionel tried to reach up for the cable that was holding him by the ankle. He can’t feel his foot anymore and the effort only sent sharp pain through his hip and back. “I didn’t kill your parents! I had no reason to!”

“What did you want him for then?”

Lionel pursed his lips in silence. He could not tell him about Veritas or Clark. The boy wasn’t a member and his father had declined the invitation. But he could be vague in the details, “There was a group of families that came together to… to discuss things. I can’t give you details, but I had invited him to join us but he had declined.”

���So you had him killed?!?” raged the costumed boy.

He shook his head in reply, “No! Veritas isn’t that kind of group!”

“Veritas?”

Lionel cursed under his breath. He had said too much, “Please, Bruce! Let me up and I will explain what I can, but I swear I am not responsible for the deaths of your parents!”

He was met with silence while he swung back and forth in the breeze. There was a sudden flash of a camera from across the street and his sharp gaze turned toward the editor’s office in the Daily Planet. He could barely make out Lois Lane and Jimmy Olsen, the latter taking pictures of what was happening.

Great. He was being assaulted by the deranged child of Thomas Wayne and now it was going to be front page news tomorrow morning.

He suddenly felt himself being pulled up again, the motion tearing small yelps of pain from him before a gloved hand reached down and grabbed him by the shirt. Bruce hauled him back inside and shoved his battered body against the desk again.

“Talk or I throw you out again, this time without a lifeline,” Bruce threatened.

Lionel winced in pain, his leg completely unfeeling and useless now. “I came to Thomas in the hopes of recruiting him to Veritas.”

“What is Veritas?”

So he explained it as best he could without revealing that Clark was here or who he was. All the while he did so, Bruce seemed to find his answers disbelieving until he said something else that interested him, “Wait. Go back. Your conversation with him, you said he had mentioned someone else tried to recruit him?”

Lionel paused and thought about it, “Yes. I asked him who and he only remembered a lapel pin of an owl. I told him there was no one in Veritas who wore such a lapel.”

“Beware the Court of Owls, that watches all the time, ruling Gotham from a shadowy perch, behind granite and lime,” murmured the masked vigilante and Lionel frowned.

“I’ve heard of them,” he tells him. “They actually tried to recruit me once while visiting Gotham. It was years ago when LuthorCorp was still growing and about to become a Fortune 500.”

“You declined?”

“I had no interest in Gotham,” Lionel explained. “It seemed to satisfy them. Because later I learned of stories where people who refused them either end up dead or disappear.”

“They’re just a fable to scare children.”

“They’re real Bruce and if they tried to recruit your father, then they’re the ones who killed him.”

“You don’t understand,” the young man shook his head. “I investigated them a long time ago and found nothing except fairytales.”

“Or that’s what they allowed you to find. Take it from someone who is a part of that world, Bruce, we don’t let you learn anything without our knowing of it or permission.”

Lionel slumped to the floor when Bruce finally released him. He could hear outside of his office as the emergency door to the stairwell was pushed open and he knew security was on its way.

Lois and Jimmy must have called the building’s security when they saw him hanging out of the window earlier. He stole a glance in the direction of the frosted doors—the shadows of his men and what looked to be Lex were just behind them—and upon looking back, Bruce Wayne was gone. He stared out the broken window in search of the Batman but he found no one.

By the time Lex and security got inside, Lionel had finally passed out from the pain and the trauma of the ordeal. As the paramedics took him away, Lex helped himself to his father’s locket.

[electricdissonance]

Stunned, baffled, completely flabbergasted to say the very least. They shouldn't be surprised it worked, but it did!!

Leo: This is the Jade you've mentioned? Well, hello! Welcome! Or welcome back, I guess-

404: Interesting... I enjoyed the puzzle, I must admit..

422: Jade, hm? Cool, another person to add to the list of souls trapped in a device!

Leo: There's a name for that fear, yknow.

404: Being trapped in a computer and/or being deleted, diagraphephobia...

Leo: Yep-

He's cut off by someone. Though the mic barely picks it up, it can be heard that he has to grab his bags and leave. His dad is here.

Leo: Craaaappp looks like I'm outta here.. EA boys, and everyone, take care!!! I'll leave my iPad as the camera now, I won't need it at dad's!

The camera turns off for a bit, then returns with slightly worse video quality. He turns it around to face the screen, 404 and 422 wave goodbye as the door shuts and the lights flick off.

404: He needs to quit calling us that..

422: Agreed.

((Haha EA boys cause Eteled and Austin. Also, blame the Vs Eteled FNF mod for me knowing that phobia! The song is great ^^

Although most of it was unfamiliar to her, something about the two digital spectre's back-and-forth caught Jade's attention.

"Souls Trapped In A...? Erm... What Are You Two Talking About?"

Kinito seemed to finally break his reverie, blinking as he caught up with the change in subject, waving his hands frantically to cover the chat.

"Shh-h! Look at her! I don't think that's something she can h-handle right now...!"

He gripped at his gills, glancing behind him with a frantic look, a dull pounding behind his eyes. She...

She was like how he was, a long time ago.

"I Just Want To Understand... Can't You Just Tell Me What's Going On...?"

"I-I change my mind! I... I don't want to involve her in this! This... was a bad idea!"

What was he saying...?

This wasn't about him.

But did he really want to break her illusion...?

[writtenjewels]

Terrible Dancing

Kaidan and Ashley exchanged curious looks with each other as they followed Shepard along the path that would take them to the lower wards. They hadn't been back to the Citadel since Shepard became a Spectre. With good reason: they found themselves unexpectedly busy, answering one distress call after another or stumbling upon space pirates or any number of things. And on top of all that, they recently encountered the Thorian.

Shepard hadn't said a lot about the Cipher, but Kaidan could tell it was weighing on him. This visit to the Citadel might have just been an excuse to get off the ship without stumbling upon another part of space that needed Shepard's help.

Kaidan was starting to recognize their surroundings. His steps slowed a little the closer they got to Flux. What was an attractive environment for most people meant a lot of stimulation for him. He hoped that it wouldn't trigger a migraine. He followed Shepard and Ashley to a table, eventually relaxing enough to join the two in a drink.

“Great way to blow off steam, right, Kaidan?” Shepard said with a smile.

“Right,” he agreed. And so far the lights and noise weren't too bad.

“Are you going to spot us credits for Quasar, skipper?” Ashley teased.

“No way. I've seen you play, Chief.” The two laughed, Kaidan smiling politely. He was happy to be here, but knew he wasn't a social butterfly like Shepard or Ashley. He tried chiming in when they started chatting, but he mostly stayed quiet and listened.

Eventually Shepard got up and moved to the dance floor. Kaidan watched him with amusement. He wasn't much of an expert, but the bobbing and arm wiggles didn't look like they counted as dancing. He caught Ashley's eye and saw she was trying not to laugh.

“At least now we know he's not good at everything,” Kaidan remarked to her.

“I know! God, I wish I had a camera!” She was still grinning when she nudged him. “You should go up there!”

“Come on, Ash. He's bad, but he's having fun.”

“I meant,” she clarified, rolling her eyes, “you should go up and join him.”

“What, dancing?” He couldn't tell if she was joking. “I'm not that much better than him.” Ashley raised an eyebrow, as if to say, So?<?i>

“Go have fun, LT. Seriously.”

Why not? He got to his feet and headed over to the dance floor. Shepard stopped his bob and wiggle moves when Kaidan got close enough. The commander's cheeks were a little flushed, his eyes bright when they focused on Kaidan. Without a word, he grabbed Kaidan's wrist and pulled him fully onto the floor.

“Thanks for coming over,” he said.

“Ashley insisted.”

“Really?” Shepard glanced over to their table. “Then I owe her another drink.” Kaidan didn't know what the commander meant by that, but it made him a little nervous. “You like dancing, Kaidan?” Shepard asked, resuming his bob along to the music.

“I don't know. I don't dance a lot.”

“Me neither.”

“No kidding.” Kaidan couldn't help giving him a teasing smirk.

“All right, Lieutenant, let's see your moves, then,” Shepard retorted with a gentle nudge. Kaidan chuckled and started moving along to the music. It was unintentional, but he was starting to bob in a similar way as Shepard. “There you go,” Shepard encouraged, now doing his arm wiggle. “You're about as good as me.”

“I certainly can't get worse,” Kaidan joked. Shepard laughed, and the two danced together through two more songs.

As they made their way back to the ship, Kaidan couldn't help notice the way Ashley was smirking at him. Like she knew some big secret. When he raised an eyebrow at her, the smile grew and her eyes darted briefly in Shepard's direction. Kaidan felt his face get hot, and Ashley's smirk grew even more.

Kaidan did end up getting a migraine later, but it almost felt worth it for those moments of terrible dancing.

[cemetery-irises]

HE'S SO OLD

Also for headcanons: he's a shapeshifter! After an accident with his own soul-meddling camera, so many reflections of the souls that he'd photographed collided into his that it killed him nearly instantly, but gave his ghost the side effect of being able to replicate anyone caught in his images.

I adore his beta design so he's got that now, and can generally be pretty terrifying if he's intentionally not keeping up a form. However, before the manor, this is just what he always looked like.

He likes to haunt people and see what they're doing, which is what led him to occasionally visit white sand street asylum as a spectre, and also what led him to Oletus Manor.

He did not expect for his form to be clear and perfect and unmarred again. It's based on a photo of him with Claude, where they were both playing dress-up in fancy clothing and his father's wig. Joseph quite likes the white hair this form gives him, and the gleam of his eyes turning into a solid blue is a pretty touch, at least to him. He doesn't intend on changing this form anytime soon.

waah this old ass man i hate him

[ghostlytales]

Drowned ghost

The ghost of a drowned man has been caught on camera wandering through a tunnel while traffic drives through him. At least that’s according to long distance lorry driver George Furst, whose colleague Stephen Smyth took the snap as they drove into the tunnel in Cork, Ireland. When the pair checked the photo, the spotted what they believe could be a Downton Abbey period spectre, who met his end in the area.

[merge-conflict]

2000 Word Blowjob 😳 and if that one was already asked, Toolin'

I did sort of, but I am happy to talk about more!

This was the '2000 word character focused blowjob challenge' that mostly lives in my head and I haven't been able to capture correctly with words yet. The idea of a smut fic also showing more about a character isn't exactly groundbreaking– sex is by nature intimate and you can explore a lot about a character by what they decide to do and how much of themselves they choose to reveal or make vulnerable, BUT I want to make it exactly 2000 words, and once I've got a draft down I want to make sure I'm hammering certain character quirks and revelations down. Until I've done that I've sort of just got a grab bag of ideas:

The plan is a FFOR-universe set Valentine/Kerry scene where they've finally gotten past some of their rocky start (the aforementioned knife to the throat, among other things). Kerry's been playing to the cameras, or will be playing to the cameras, and he's in a Bad Mood because Johnny has been jealous about the attention he's getting and handling it in the usual way (badly) and Rogue is just generally unimpressed with his who celebrity rockerboy thing so he's feeling a little emasculated– and Valentine is in That Mood where she wants to help so badly she's given herself jobs to do like a neurotic dog.

There's that spectre in the air of neither of them knowing how much of their attraction is or isn't because of how caught up they are with Johnny, but quickly establish their own dynamic (Kerry's in charge) and are enjoying themselves without interference. They're relaxed, bantering, fooling around in the huge walk-in closet with all the mirrors... Johnny interrupts, of course, (haven't decided when) but then when they're both sort of exasperated it's more like a bonding moment than destabilization. They both recontextualize something things about each other. Idk. Valentine and Johnny are always sort of offhandedly implying they're extensions of each other's identity but Kerry looks at Valentine and sees himself... Idk. Messy as fuck!

If that sounds like a lot for 2000 words well. I might break a few promises there, but eventually I'm going to set this down to paper. Eventually!

[hauntingofthelamb]

໒꒰ྀི˶ . ˕ . ˶ྀི꒱১

[clericofshadows]

Regis: LOTSB & Nyx: kaidan and hackett in an elevator 👀👀

LOTSB... my beloathed DLC that I'm rewriting drastically in more ways than one. I'm probably going to cut out like all the drawn out Vasir stuff and have Wren sniff her out early. or something. anything to get it over with faster lmao.

I'll put both your snippets under the cut :)

Regis made his way through T'Soni's apartment, trying to figure out what had happened beyond what the Spectre had claimed: an assassination attempt. He was only partially sorry that it had failed, but the whole situation intrigued him too damn much to let Wren handle it on her own, coming on her advisement after her surveillance picked up on it. She was currently talking to the Spectre, finding out as much information as she can about the case, both for his sake's and the Alliance's investigation into T'Soni. The apartment was clean, despite the attempt, having good enough protections to prevent the worst of the attack from doing major damage. Signs of her prothean archeologist past littered the apartment, and Regis wished she stuck to that instead of the shit she got herself into, if only because he was tired of her meddling into his life and death. A glass case caught his attention, housing something beat up, charred and damaged, out of place in the admittedly elegant home. He approached it, and immediately felt sick, his gaze first landing on a piece of scorched, frayed cloth, a scrap of black and red fabric that mirrored the one around his neck. The sound of glass shattering filled the air, the once pristine display case reduced to nothing more than a pile of shards. He reached out for the battered torso of his armor, taking it apart, piece by piece, ignoring Samara's and Zaeed's noises of concern. Where is it, where are his dog tags, where is his father's goddamn ring?

you're in luck because I posted an earlier snippet of Kaidan and Hackett in an elevator so you get another one too :)

“You got that right.”  Hackett glanced around.  “Are there–?” He made a motion with his hand, gesturing around. Kaidan did a quick scan with his omnitool and nodded.  “Won’t take me but a second to throw up a privacy field.” “They know there’s a Spectre and an Alliance stuck in here, I doubt it’ll raise too much suspicion.” “I don’t know,” Kaidan couldn’t help but grin.  “The wrong officer sees it and starts spinning all kinds of tales.” “One superior officer is not enough for you?” He teased back, and Kaidan laughed as he activated the privacy field, scrambling the camera feed and muting the audio.  He was a bit surprised Hackett played along.  “Maybe not. The perks are just so good,” Kaidan said, focusing his gaze on Hackett, a smirk tugging at his lips. “The benefits alone make it worth it.” And he couldn't deny that Hackett was quite the handsome man.  The same things that drew him to Nyx drew him to Hackett.  Scars, voices, the way they held themselves… and he knew damn well his tastes often went to older men in his fantasies. Hackett crossed his arms against his chest, raising an eyebrow.  “Didn’t expect this from you.” “I don’t see you complaining,” Kaidan said, keeping his tone neutral.  “Allow me to be serious for a moment?” “Thought you already were,” he challenged. Kaidan nodded, leaning back against the elevator wall.  “Part of me was.  Nyx never stopped having feelings for you, you know.”

[saikourobyn]

Japan 2020 - Day 1

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Arriving in Tokyo and running away to Hakone, hot springs really help with jet lag.

If you haven't seen the previous post check out the Prelude.

Monday 24th February 2020

Tokyo

Our flight arrived at 6:50 AM, our first sign of coronavirus prevention was a man standing behind an infrared camera to check people's temperature as they went through to get their passports checked.

Oli’s friend Hiroshi met with us at the airport to give us a lift to his place where we would be staying that week, again to save a bit of cash, but it was a brief stop after a catch up we would be off travelling immediately.

We had originally planned to go to Hakone with Hiroshi but he had to get ready for his upcoming wedding so instead he took us to lunch at Tokyo Station our first proper meal in Japan was Ramen! Which it turns out is good for any meal, breakfast/lunch/dinner/after drinks before stumbling home.

Hiroshi pointed us in the right direction and we caught a train to Hakone where we would spend our first night.

Hakone

A running theme in this trip is not doing much in the way of research before going to places, partly due to not wanting to plan too much in advance and experience things as they come and also being free to do things that looked interesting when we found them.

It was this that brought our first surprise of Hakone, there’s a famous anime set here, Evangelion. The only trouble was neither I nor Oli have seen it so the map of the local area with screenshots from the show were lost on us, but all that means is we get to see the real life version before watching the show and say “I recognise that, I’ve been there.”

As if that wasn’t bad enough we committed our next sin of not having change for the coin lockers to store our luggage, fresh off the plane with our currency we had nothing but notes and no easy way to change them we found a nearby vending machine which refused to take our money, we struggled for a minute before a helpful Japanese lady came and pointed out that the machine wasn’t able to give change, presumably because everyone else had been doing the same thing.

We got our drinks, stashed our luggage and proceeded to explore the local town as we couldn’t check in to our ryokan (traditional Japanese hotel) yet. It appears to be a popular destination for tourists, I was worried that as it wasn’t a major city the folks there wouldn’t understand our lacklustre Japanese and the inevitable reverting to English and pointing at things but we had no issues.

We spent about 40 minutes walking around Hakone then when we were ready to check in we retrieved our luggage and trundled up the hill. We discovered a spoopy tunnel, which may have been our first encounter with the spectre thief, is it a ghost who steals things or someone who steals ghosts or it could be someone who steals ghosts who steal things like some sort of ghost police.

The area is known for its onsen (natural hot springs) and the ryokan we are staying in has its own onsen but not only that some of the rooms have private onsen… for couples, we have booked just such a room. This allows us to practise before embarrassing ourselves in front of any Japanese folk that may be using the public onsen.

The ryokan has tatami (Mats made of straw although modern mats have woodchip or polystyrene at their core) on the floor and futons to sleep on, so your living room doubles as a bedroom, there’s no kotatsu sadly but it has air conditioning which was greatly appreciated as it was still quite chilly outside, the weather in the UK had been getting milder but in Japan were thrown back in to winter somewhat.

After trying out our private onsen we decided to also try out the futons and had a nap, this seemed to work out well as we woke up in time for a late dinner and were still tired enough to get to sleep later.

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[scott1984fp2]

Photographer captures ghostly shadow in the mist https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/articles/cn4vy7nqd90o

[theharpermovieblog]

#HARPERSMOVIECOLLECTION

2023

I re-watched Lost Highway (1997)

This is the hardest movie I've had to talk about since there is just so much to get into and it's impossible to do that here. So I'm sorry if this is jumbled and poorly written. In 10 years I'll rewrite this and disagree with everything I've said here. Lol

A musician murders his wife and after being sentenced to death transforms into a young man who gets caught between a woman and a Mob Boss.

Lost Highway is about a man's feelings of sexual inadequacy and the lies he tells himself. At least for the most part.

Bill Pullman's character of Fred, at one point says he doesn't like video cameras because "I like to remember things my own way....not necessarily the way they happened." For Fred, this escapism is a need. It is a coping mechanism that will lead him to do horrible things and change the very fabric of who he is. Fred's need to escape and "remember things his own way" leads him to unknowingly kill his wife and even physically transform himself into someone else.

Robert Blake's pale faced spectre is what Fred is trying to escape. The spectre is Fred's sense of reality. Through videotapes the spectre shows Fred how "Things really happened". The Spectre shows Fred that he is a murderer who has killed his own wife. He knows Fred even after Fred transforms and becomes another person because, try as Fred might, reality is inescapable.

The person Fred Becomes is Balthazar Getty's character Pete. He's young and self confident. He's a new start for Fred, but Patricia Arquette as both characters Renee and Alice is another part of life that Fred cannot escape. At first Fred kills Renee and after he's charged for her murder he becomes Pete, but Pete can't help but fall for Renee's doppelganger, Alice, leading him back to being Fred, who then goes on to make a full circle bringing us back to the beginning of the film.

It's all very complicated and confusing on the surface. Dig a little deeper and it's still complicated and confusing, but it begins to take shape. This is what David Lynch is best at. He makes films that seem like nonsense to many, but in reality are full of meaning and feel no obligation to work within the parameters of logic outside the film's universe.

Im sure I'm right about a decent amount of this and wrong about a decent amount too. Lost Highway is, like many of Lynch's films, full of dream logic and is anything but spoon fed to the audience. It changes in narrative and yet remains the same throughout. It's a puzzle, but one I enjoy trying to solve piece by piece.

It's been said that Lost Highway takes place in the same universe as Lynch's Twin Peaks series, which is totally possible if not 100% true. The style, music, character interactions.....it's all very "Twin Peaks" in tone. And, like Twin Peaks, there is so much to challenge yourself with.

What I really love about this movie, technically, is the use of Darkness and the use of hollow, drafty sound. Two things Lynch uses often and well, but here they seem incredibly noticeable. It adds to the dreaminess and to the feeling of everything happening in the void of this world. It also helps the sound and music have a bigger impact.

Lost Highway is a noir horror through the mind of David Lynch and, despite it's difficulty, it's absolutely mesmerizing in many moments.

There are gorgeous shots in this film, a solid cast, puzzles to be solved, and a lot more.

Is it the best Lynch film out there? No. But it's one that every person wanting to understand David Lynch as a filmmaker should watch. If you don't like it, you won't like his other work.