#that's what makes him terrifying

[bearfeathers]

no but the way halloween (2018) restores to michael myers the identity of the shape and the boogeyman is just 🤌

[pianokantzart]

I don't think we talk quite enough about these two NPCs:

At the beginning it's clear that they're supposed to be reflections of Mario and Luigi. The younger brother is skinnier, taller, less experienced, and (initially) easily frightened.

The older brother is shorter and chubbier, more experienced and protective of his sibling.

But when they're reunited, it turns out the two are very much different characters from Mario and Luigi.

The first sign is that the younger brother is pretty blasé while the older brother breaks down into tears of relief. A direct opposite to the way things go when Mario and Luigi are reunited.

Furthermore, the younger brother now embraces danger and desperately wants to go on another adventure, while the older brother forgoes treasure hunting completely in favor of focusing on keeping his sibling safe.

These are two behaviors that don't quite fit with Mario and Luigi.

HOWEVER...

Before Mario and Luigi leave, the younger treasure hunter takes Luigi aside and asks if he can sneak off with them. When he's overheard, not only is the older treasure hunter mad at his brother, but Mario is mad at Luigi for considering it.

This teeny tiny moment lead me to the suspect that the "character arc" these NPCs undergo are fuzzy reflections of Mario and Luigi's desires.

Luigi wishes he could just go though the wringer and come out on the other side with permanent bravado, unable to be shaken and as adventurous as his brother. He more than likely wants the younger brother to embrace this change and pursue his dream.

Mario on the other hand?

I think... while he doesn't dislike being a hero... part of him prefers the idea of just hanging out with his sibling in a world where things aren't consistently on the verge of disaster.

He understands the way the older brother feels, so much so that he deeply objects to the idea of helping the younger one sneak off (especially so soon after they were reunited), and gets mad when Luigi merely hears the idea out.

And I think a more selfish part of Mario likes the idea of telling Luigi to stay home, safe and sound where nothing can hurt him.

Heck... we've probably already gotten a peek into a world Mario gave in to this impulse and tried that approach...

[eyesthecolorofarson]

Next-to-last of our species

Based on this

“Project Cadmus’ purpose was to create an anti-Justice League of sorts,” Dr. Lilva said calmly, twisting her hair in the hand that wasn’t handcuffed to the table. “But despite Luther’s unimaginable wealth, he was cutting costs in this incredibly delicate operation. He decided that instead of one clone for each Justice League member, we’d do one for two.”

“Why?” It wasn’t like Luthor to cut costs, Batman mused. He flaunted his money as if it’d make people forget he was a supervillain. Maybe he’d spent too much on his last mech suit. He should tell Dick that. “I don’t know. But it worked in our favor. We weren’t really creating clones. We were creating embryos that had your DNA. But, as we all know, you need two sets of DNA to form a full body. So, mixing two of your DNA together would not only give the clones a stable body, but the powers or,” she motioned to him, “intelligence of the parents. Which is how we got here.”

Three scientists from the now destroyed Project Cadmus, Dr. Lilva, Sal, and Trit, had turned themselves in to the Justice League saying they were willing to share everything that had happened during Project Cadmus on the grounds that they be allowed access to job opportunities in their very narrow fields. Dr. Sal, who seemed most against turning themselves in, rolled his eyes. “It would have been fine if—“ “No it wouldn’t!” Dr. Trit glared to him. “It would have!” “No! It’d be fine if we hadn’t combined Martian Manhunter and fucking Batman! We created a Batman that can shapeshift and move things with his mind!”

Dr. Lilva sighed. “Be quiet. Our first stable clone was made of a combination of Superman and Luthors DNA. Where we made a mistake was the creation of 14; the combination of Martian Manhunter and Batman.” Sal scoffed. “He wasn’t a mistake. He was a success. As smart and calculating as Batman, capable of shifting into inanimate objects and people, as well as incredible telepathic and technopathic abilities. The mistake was making him too smart. Too aware.”

“We wouldn’t have been able to prevent it.” He looked around. Superman didn’t look very good. He was pale and sweaty, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles were white. Martian Manhunter had a very odd expression on his face, as if he was trying to find every bit of information about ‘14’ that he could. He probably was. Superman met his eyes, and he knew he was questioning how he felt. He was fine.

“13, the combination of Superman and Luthor, didn’t have Luthors intelligence but he did have Superman’s powers. Average intelligence but very emotional, he seemed to feel everything ten times more intensely than others. 14, however…. He was best at learning. Not just science or math….” Lilva shivered. “He watched us, copied us, and it took us far too long to realize, but he was reading our minds. Learning.”

“Unfortunately, it took us longer to fully understand the lengths of his technopathy. We thought it was just light electrokinesis, but—“ she cut herself off with a strangled laugh. “When he started talking about our personal information, things we looked up, things we talked about at home without our Cadmus devices—that’s when we realized he’d attached himself to every. Single. Piece of technology. That we’d interacted with.”

She motioned for Sal to speak. He sighed. “One day, I was staying late to finish some work. 13 was incredibly clingy, and 14 was a charmer, so they got to share a room. One of the walls was made entirely out of nth glass. 13 was asleep, and 14 was watching me. He tapped the internal mic, and asked me why I wasn’t at Lily’s recital. He told me that she was asking ‘Mrs. Millie’ if she’d seen me come in. He told me…. he told me ‘lily pad is very upset.’” Sal looked disturbed. “I had forgotten my daughter, Lily, had a play. She was playing the sugar plum fairy. Mrs. Millie is her teacher, and ‘lily pad’ is a nickname I have for her. And he knew that, despite me never mentioning having a family.”

That was a little disturbing. Not just knowing about his family, that was easy with a little research into the employee, but to know not only the teachers name, the recital, and a nickname, that implied that ‘14’ had been watching Sal for quite a long time. “How does this imply that ‘14’ had ‘attached himself’ to your devices?” Lilva motioned for Trit to speak. She also sighed. “Ok. So. Uhh, during my break I’d, uh, use my home phone to watch Netflix and stuff. And keep in mind Project Cadmus was located almost twenty five miles underground, and the break room was on surface level.”

“Well, one day I was watching The Nun, and when I got back down I had to deal with a ‘strange situation.’” She used air quotes then sighed again, running a hand through her short hair. “13 was crying and 14 was trying to comfort him, telling him it ‘probably wasn’t real’, which made him cry harder. When I asked what was wrong, 14 yelled at me for ‘choosing to not watch Friends this one time.’ 13 interrupted him and asked me if demons were real. I told him I didn’t know, and asked 14 what this was all about.”

She laughed. “He didn’t answer, but it was pretty easy to figure out. I usually watched Friends during my break, but I’d finished it at home. So I’d decided to watch a movie. And before this we’d seen signs of 14 building a mind link between himself and 13. It was obvious that he’d attached himself to my phone, and shared with 13 what I was watching. Unfortunately, it was a horror movie.”

“After that we noticed that the electric doors would unlock and relock at random, usually locking us and the other doctors in and letting 13 and 14 out. Our computers would glitch and turn off when using them, the machines made to test their ability’s would break down right before testing. I’d tried to make sure no one put physical locks on anything because I didn’t want 14 learning how to pick locks.” Trit sighed again and glared at Sal.

“And someone didn’t listen to me.” Sal scoffed and rolled his eyes. Lilva glared at both of them. “How was I supposed to know he’d learn? He didn’t have any lock picking skills or anything to pick locks with!” Lilva gave him a look. “He had his mind.” “So, ‘14’ knows how to pick locks telepathically?” “Not just pick them,” Trit replied, “in less than a day he learned how to unlock and relock them. We learned this when Sal turned off the power to their electrical door and put locks on them.”

Trit and Lilva waited for Sal to speak. He grumbled. “I went in to fix a light that 13 had broken when he was practicing flying, turned around, and both of them were outside the room. I watched as 14 relocked the locks he’d unlocked without touching them.” Sal looked embarrassed. “I was stuck for three hours as they destroyed the lab. I had access to my—“ Lilva raised her hand for him to stop. She was looking at her phone. She was pale.

“Ms. Lilva?” He asked after a moment, “Is something wrong?” She took a deep breath, then tried to give her phone to him. She wasn’t able to. When her arm raised a spark left her phone and she yelped and dropped it, rubbing her hand as it continued to spark. At the same time, the Watchtowers main computer turned on. Batman felt himself and the others tense. The screen was covered in static.

“Stand up!” Lilva told him, her voice shaking. “Flash, stand up and walk fourteen feet backwards from the screen. Do it! Now!” Sal muttered swears. “Why me?” Flash asked, even as he stood. “Because you’re the only one who’ll give us an instant honest reaction on what you see.” That was a good point.

Flash went fourteen feet, turned and jumped. “Holy shit!” He almost choked. “There’s eyes in the screen! Like, a face—oh my god it’s smiling at me.” Bruce quickly stood, as did the others. The scientists stayed seated. Batman walked backwards to Flash, keeping his eyes on the screen. There was nothing. Static, static, static, then—he stood next to Flash and he appeared.

He took a few steps back and forward, testing his eyes. A foot forward he was gone. And a foot back, the same. Only when Batman stood fourteen feet away from the screen did he see his and J’onn’s clone, 14. He was hidden in the static, but at fourteen feet away the static melted together to form a face. It reminded him of when he was a child, stuck at galas and so bored he looked to the marble to find hidden pictures.

The static face was watching them intently. Batman could feel a finger gently poking his mind, trying to enter. He locked his psyche down tightly. 14’s face seemed to become amused. “Interesting…” Martian Manhunter muttered. “He knows who we are. All of us.” Superman stood next to Batman, tense. “What do you mean?” “It means he knows our identities. He knows where your parents live, the code to Batman’s contingency safe, the names of Wonder Woman’s mother and aunts….it seems that the moment the doctors phones got close enough to the computer, he attached himself to it.”

That wasn’t good. The static face seemed to think it was hilarious, laughing. “Who are you?” He asked sternly. It didn’t seem to affect the face. The face disappeared. Bold words appeared. ‘You know who I am,’ they said, ‘you just spent ten minutes talking about us’. So he’d been listening. How quickly was he able to get into the computer? “What do you want?” The words disappeared and were replaced with new ones. ‘Nothing much. Just, oh, I don’t know—the people that tortured and experimented on us dead? That too much to ask?’

So revenge. “What does 13 think of that plan?” He hadn't noticed it before, but there was a low ringing sound coming from the computer. It got louder at his question. ‘His name is Connor. And he shouldn’t have to worry about these things. He had it worse than I did.’ He glanced toward the scientists. They’d only told them of the clones and that there had been experiments—they hadn’t said what type of experiments. “Could you elaborate?”

‘Sure. The people sitting in front of you–if they can even be called people–are sadistic, selfish, narcissistic assholes who not only ‘encouraged’ us to show our powers with physical torture but also sold information they learned in the project to third parties. Like they’re doing right now.’ Suddenly Sal, Trit, and Lilva’s bodies began sparking and smoking. Trit shrieked and removed a wire from her hair and waistline. They sparked and the one from her waist caught on fire. Trit continued to panic as she tried to pull a chip out from under her manicured nails.

Sal removed two chips and a wire from his tie, belt and hair while Lilva removed four wires from her bra, waistline, shoelace and hair band. The one from her hair caught fire before she could pull it out, and a small section of her hair caught fire. Sal helped her pat it out as a distorted laugh came from Lilvas phone on the table.

‘She deserves worse.’ The words on the screen said, ‘Superman. Have you ever been burned before?’ Superman didn’t answer, instead whispering to Wonder Women about how odd it was he didn’t hear the wires and bugs electrical humming. ‘CLARK KENT.’ The words were bigger now, and he felt someone pinching his mind. ‘DO YOU KNOW WHAT ITS LIKE TO BE BURNED? DID YOU KNOW THAT YOU CAN BE BURNED?’

Superman jumped and turned, reading the words. “Uh, no—no, I haven’t. I can’t.” He sounded unsure. Batman didn’t blame him. The static disappeared, and a video played. It looked to be camera footage. It showed a medical room. Sitting on one of the beds was a boy, maybe fifteen, with short curly black hair and blue eyes. His skin was unhealthily pale, and he had bags under his eyes. He was wearing a simple shirt and pants, the shirt having Superman’s symbol on one side and the number 13 on the other.

Out of place in the medical room was a fire pit. There was a fire poker in it, and the flames were lit up green. Doctor Trit came in. “How do you feel?” 13—Connor glanced at her then looked away. “Fine. A little nauseous. Is that normal?” Trit walked to the fire pit, shifting the poker around. “Perfectly. Hold out your hand.” Dread pooled in Batman’s stomach. Connor looked nervous, but did as he was told.

Trit pulled the fire poker out, kryptonite attached to the end. Its end was slightly red and orange, cracks running along it. She turned and placed it in Connor’s open palm.

Connor shrieked and screamed, trying to pull his hand away. Trit held him still. Connor struggled, tears running down his face, begging her to stop, to help, to take it away. Trit made him hold it for twenty seconds before pulling it back. When she did they saw Connor’s hand, the flesh bubbly and red with blood, blisters forming. Connor cried, and the video ended. The static returned, but it was quiet. Almost in respect.

"Jesus christ," Flash muttered, and Batman was a little worried about the way Wonder Women was looking at the scientists. "We were just doing our jobs!" Trit cried weakly, "We didn't want to but we had to!" 'SHUT UP' The text said, and the scientists began to yelp and wither. 'There is a fine line between experimenting on a subject and torturing them.'

'What you did to us stepped several feet over that line. What you did to us spat in the face of workplace ethics and our human rights.' Trit suddenly shrieked, and Sal began convulsing. 'We're never going to forget or forgive what you did to us. He will never feel truly safe, truly happy as long as your alive.' Sal began foming at the mouth, whimpering. Trit was muttering 'make it stop' over and over again, and Lilva was writing something on the table. It looked to be a will.

"He's melting their minds," Martian Manhunter gasped, "That—that is not a metaphor. He's quite literally reducing their brain matter to mush." Flash went to the scientists side and tried to keep Sal still while Green Lanturn began copying what Lilva was writing. Her handwriting was getting worse and worse. Wonder Women went to Trit's side as she began to sob and stutter, attempting to speak. It was all incoherent.

'I don't want to hurt people.' The screen said, 'I don't even enjoy hurting them, no matter how much they hurt me. But this isn't about me, it's about Connor. It's about ensuring Connors safety. It's about making sure Luthor gets a clear cut message; hurt him, and see what happens. Try to hurt us and I'll destroy him and everything he cares about. Fuck around and find out.'

"We can help keep you safe," Batman said as Sals twitching slowed, "Both you and Connor. You don’t have to kill them." Lilva wasn't writing so much as scribling, and Trit was still crying. Her eyes were bloodshot. 'I do, Batman. They installed both of us with a kill switch. Only two ways to trip it; either insert a key into the incubators were were created in, or enter a code on the computer in Luthors office.'

Batman felt his heart drop. 'The key and the incubators have been delt with, the computer and any copy of the software destroyed. Only one person had the code. The lead researcher. And he shared the code with two other people. I have to keep my brother safe, Batman. We're all we have. I'm sorry.'

The room was much more quite now; Trit was dead, Sal was unconscious, and Lilva mumbling incoherently. 'I want to live the rest of my life by your code, Batman, and I'll try my best to do so. But please, please understand that I had to do this. Not just for revenge, but for our safety. Martain Manhunter would’ve never found the code in their minds; he's not as invasive as I am. They would’ve left and immediately killed us. Thats why Sal wanted to get out of their as quick as possible.'

'Maybe one day, when the dust has settled and Conner feels safe we can talk face to face; really talk, y’know? I'd like to do that. But I don't know when the right time for that talk will be.' It was quiet as the rest of the League read the message. The humming was fading. Batman felt his heart jump when his pocket buzzed. It was his phone.

It was a new contacct thats number kept changing. It was named 'Danny'. The text read, 'but in the meantime, I'm down for some small talk.'

[ghost-bxrd]

Prompt:

Time loop edition!

Jason gets a chance to do everything right.

He’s got one day, twenty four hours, to change everything to the way he wants it to be (read: repeatedly kill Joker). And if he’s not satisfied with the result by the end of that time, well, that’s fine. He gets a do over for as long as he wants—if he offs himself before the twenty fourth hour mark.

He just didn’t count on his stupid family to be such a wild card and keep switching their routines around at the drop of a hat. Makes it so much harder to plan Joker’s perfect demise…

((Meanwhile the batfam: screaming and falling over each other, very much aware of the time loop but under the impression that Jay’s death is the catalyst, trying desperately to stop Jason from committing suicide by the end of each day.))

[im-smart-i-swear]

coming back home.

@barrenclan

[wyrmwinds]

Someone with a better mind for character design than me should redesign Vauthry because of how the fatphobic design makes idiots unable to read the nuance surrounding him and ALSO because I do feel like there's a good design in there.

The way he's stylized doesn't do him any favors but I think that the tie between his baby-like appearance and the whole concept of innocence surrounding him could be so good if they didn't do it like that. At the very least, I feel like he should have gotten childlike eyes.

I feel like it would have been interesting if instead of leaning heavily into "grotesque fat manbaby" stereotyped design they maybe made him look like. An actual child, to give off that air of innocence. Sort of like a padjali situation with him, which offers an interesting tie between the "pure" white mages of the Source and him. I also feel that it would offer a more visual parallel between him and Alphinaud. He can even keep the fat, with it even giving him a design aspect of angelic cherubs.

[turtleblogatlast]

[ cw: trauma / ptsd / violence / brainwashing / ]

I’m not done talking about Raph and Leo yet because you know what kills me? How the beginning of the movie with Raph very angry at Leo to the point of lashing out at him is paralleled with how the end of the movie has the Krang very, very angry at Leo and beating him horrifically.

Both Raph and the Krang are so much bigger than Leo, both have been very angry with him, and both deem him responsible for ruining their respective missions.

To make matters worse, Raph’s body was used to hurt Leo. So it’d make sense for Leo to just…flinch, sometimes. To have his body reflectively brace for a blow that will not come because Raph would see this and just be horrified. Their fights, their roughhousing, their existing together all have a newfound and unwanted extra layer to them.

And Raph? Raph is traumatized enough having been brainwashed the way he was, turned into a monster in a way he always dreads in general. To be made into the antithesis of a hero and instead be a villain’s pawn, made to hurt his own family…poor kid, to say the least.

Can’t imagine what it must feel like, the first time post invasion that Raph gets mad at Leo and they fall into their old dynamic only for Leo to see the Krang and for Raph to feel like he is the Krang.

[serpentface]

This was going to be a panel of a little comic but I got too invested in drawing minute background details so, here.

[lleclerc]

iceman + his concern for maverick post-hop 31

[sculkshrieking]

saw or mcyt you say… how about saw AND mcyt. put trafficgrian into a situation. reverse bear trap him or fuck em up in some other way do whatever you want forever have fun!!!!!

i loooove drawing AUs that a total of three people wanna see <3 this is how we finally get mcyt fans into Saw

[the---hermit]

Shout out specifically to the kind girls who i have met before exams in my academic life so far. Complete strangers i have met once for a couple of hours who have made the wait for the exam lighter. Talking to me like we had known each other for years. This includes, but is not limited to, the girl who saw me nervously waiting before my medieval history exam om my first year, and decided she was going to adopt me in her small friend's group for the morning to review things together and who kindly stood up for me when the professor ignored me while i was trying to get his attention to ask for something before the exam. The girl who randomly complained to me about a broken door in the bathrooms and who then saw me in line waiting to get in the exam room and chatted with me for over an hour while the professor was late, because being annoyed at things being broken/not working as they should is the best bonding excuse on the planet. The girl who i asked directions to yesterday and ended up waiting for my same exam who acted with me, a random stranger, like an old friend. I am collecting these people like pressed flowers. I have no idea of half of their names but i will forever be grateful to then for being there and being kind. As an extremly anxious person who becomes a nervous wreck before exams and who has terrible social skills people like this are such a gift and I wish them all the best.

[jackdaw-and-hattrick]

The Batfam becomes convinced Danny is a clone/son and try to get a DNA sample. They can’t, not because Danny knows what they're up to, it’s just because he’s been so thoroughly ingrained with zero waste practices by Sam and never throws anything away.

[hijinxinprogress]

Whenever the JL starts complaining about YJs public image YJ just straight up gaslights them

[ineffableteeth]

They probably almost kissed after this

They probably almost kissed after this

They probably almost kissed after this

[ghost-bxrd]

Prompt:

Damian isn’t happy about father’s rule not to hurt the gaggle of false kids he has acquired. How is he supposed to prove to him that he is the only one worthy of the title of heir now?

But fine. Most of them are stupid enough they’ll end up dead sooner or later. Damian just has to play the long game. Establish himself as the only constant.

But then father’s wayward son, Todd, comes home… and it’s so much worse than Damian expected.

He remembers this man. Remembers him from hushed whispers in the League, from mother’s creased eyebrow, and training halls drenched with blood.

And he’ll take one look at Damian and know. Know that he’s a threat to his position.

And the worst thing: Damian isn’t allowed to defend himself.

[windcarvedlyre]

I've been following @druidposting's DR2 playthrough on discord and we just had a really good discussion about DR's Closing Arguments. Specifically the way the murderer is depicted as grey and featureless, which until now I found a bit annoying.

In Danganronpa it's repeatedly the case that we don't have the full picture until the talking actually stops- which always goes beyond the end of the trial. We generally vote first and come to understand what the murderer's actual motive was, sometimes filling in important pieces of the timeline in the process, afterwards.

But none of that matters for the killing game because characters' emotions aren't directly relevant to who was the 'blackened'- the only thing that matters to Monokuma- so it comes out afterwards and does nothing to change their execution. It doesn't matter how sympathetic they are (basically everyone) or whether other people share responsibility for the situation (eg. Hanamura, Pekoyama, Momota) or whether they intended to murder at all (Nanami). They objectively pulled the trigger and nothing else matters. Nothing about them as a person matters.

The Closing Argument mechanic might illustrate that problem- literally. They're a dramatic, conclusive summary of the entire case... constructed before the vote even happens, before we know if we're actually right, and they're missing something really important:

The actual perpetrator.

We quite literally don't even begin to see the real person behind the crime, any real exploration of their mental state, anything besides the cold, hard facts of the murder that are necessary to convict them, until the comic finishes and the protagonist makes their final accusation- replacing the grey figure with their real appearance in a shot that's often intensely emotional.

And these comics lack crucial parts of the case's timeline and sometimes important parts of the very scenes they depict that we only find out about afterwards. And those are what we know; characters may die with some pieces of the truth and prevent us from ever learning them. These aren't objective depictions of the murder, they're the protagonist's subjective attempt to connect the facts they have. A join-the-dots portrait of someone with missing dots and no colour.

Even characters' expressions may not match how they truly feel, with the grey placeholder potentially looking way more confident and sinister than they were in reality. Pasting Falter's commentary here since they put it well.

For obvious reasons this could especially be a problem for characters that die before the trial- the ones we never get a post-vote testimony from. DR1 chapter 4 really highlighted that in the way Asahina's huge misinterpretation of Oogami's feelings took up a lot of the post-trial discussion, only for Monokuma to reveal Oogami's real suicide note and recontextualise everything.

It might really be a problem for how Komaeda's depicted in DR2 chapter 5. While he isn't greyed out, we get panel after panel where he's either level-headed or maniacally evil, and even the depictions of his self-torture and death don't humanise him:

But we know that his real feelings were more complicated than that. We have his actual corpse to compare the last page to.

He died afraid.

If we approach the comic as Hinata's mental image of him instead of reality, he died without anyone truly understanding him. He was alarming, very hard to relate to, actively fought against people doing so, ensured even the killer didn't watch him die, and the survivors couldn't begin to understand his motive until a chapter later. The Closing Argument reflects that.

Early in DR1 Togami calls out the rest of his class for judging others by their own standards. However, he, too, is doing this, maybe more so than many other characters; his inability to view other people through anything but the cold, brutal logic of the killing game bites him in the ass in chapter 4. In DR2 chapter 2 voting without a good understanding of Pekoyama's motive or Kuzuryuu's involvement nearly got everyone killed. Komaeda's a walking embodiment of the problems with flattening people into caricatures and not empathising with them, suffered from people doing that back to him, and his case- the Closing Argument for which turned everyone else into grey placeholders- was impossible to solve with objective facts. It was only survivable because the survivors cooperated and one person tried to analyse things the way he would.

The games have always been a critique of the justice system and Japanese society and push us to care about others as individuals, not reduce them to- and judge their right to exist by- something they've done or their net impact on society. There are always consequences when someone neglects to do that, and the above might be yet another way the games explore that theme.