#the borders here can be really wonky so I’m wondering if it has a sharp dip closer to the neighborhoods across the street from us?

[totallynotagentphilcoulson]

If you ever question the point of microchipping your pets know that this little twerp waltzed out the back yard while the AC repair guy was here, went on a cheery little jaunt to the county border for two hours while I raced through the wood trails by our house repeatedly shouting her name at the top of my lungs, and within five minutes of being picked up by animal control they were able to call me and let me know where she was and it only took another forty minutes to get her because I had to hike out of muddy rainy woodland and drive through NoVA traffic to get there.

[trashyslashers]

hiiiii! i hope that i am not disturbing you! i was wondering if you can do trap daddy x fem!s/o who after trials left out of the campfire where all the other survivors are to wandering off into the fog and ended up at the macmillan estate? i'm sorry if this is too much, please ignore if you'd like! stay hydrated!

It came out kinda LONG so I put it under a readmore, here ya go anon. The format got kinda wonky I’m sorry.

             Not much thought was ever given to where you were going when you left the Campfire. When it came to wandering through the woods, neither the direction or how far one chose to go ever mattered; regardless of the variables, sooner or later they would end up back at the fire with the other Survivors. There were rare occasions every now and then where you and some of the others would group up and wander off, ending up somewhere else to scavenge for supplies to entertain yourselves with or to aid you during trials, but aside from that, meandering walks in the woods never led you anywhere else.

At least, you thought that was the case when you’d broken off from the group for a short walk not too long ago. You were tired (as tired as one could get in a place where it seemed like all normal, bodily mechanics were nonexistent) and figured that a quick stroll would clear your mind, but as you walked on and noticed that trees were starting to become sparse and deteriorating remains of brick walls were beginning to take their place, you realized that you’d made a terrible mistake by wandering off on your own.

Of all possible outcomes, the absolute last thing you were expecting from your walk was to end up in the lot of the MacMillan Estate, and the sight itself of the towering Ironworks was enough to unsettle you. You knew that the man whom you almost always were pinned up against in this particular location was an especially brutal and sadistic one, and far more times than you could count you’ve found one of your ankles stuck in the maws of a bear trap that no doubt was placed by him.

Without even meaning to, you began to scan the ground around you in search of the rusted things. The last thing you wanted was to wind up in one outside of a trial where you doubt the Entity would mend your injury, and you knew that the Trapper (a simplistic but very fitting nickname given to him by the other Survivors) took fervent care of them and probably took massive delight in catching you and your friends in them.

Speaking of him, was he even here?

You’ve heard that the Killers had their own Campfire, a fire very similar to the one you and the other Survivors spent a large amount of your free time around, and for a brief second you almost felt relieved as you figured that much like your own circumstances, the Entity probably didn’t allow for the Killers to roam free as they pleased. It was either that, or they tried to avoid the Survivors outside of trials as much as you all tried to avoid them, and you were fine with whatever the truth was.

However, you soon found out that you were incredibly wrong in that assumption when you heard the sharp snap of one of the aforementioned traps being triggered, and you realized that there literally was no reason for the Entity to prevent the Killers from accessing the very places they came from.

If he saw you, someone who most certainly was not supposed to be here, how would he react? Anger, which would most definitely lead to violence? Indifference? Annoyance? Would he just shoo you away, or would he throw you over his shoulder and hang you up like a slab of meat? Questions of the sorts swam through your mind and you figured it was in your best interest to turn around and head back the way you came- only to realize that you couldn’t. The path you had came from was now cut off by one of the towering walls that bordered the estate. You were stuck.

Anxiety fluttered in your stomach as the reality of your situation settled in, but at the same time you couldn’t help but feel a small bit curious. Some of the other Survivors always got on your case for it- sometimes your common sense went down the drain and you did something utterly stupid to quell the burning desire to Know Something that stirred up inside of you. This was one of those times, and you thanked your lucky stars that none of the others were around to see your next move.

Swallowing the lump that had welled in your throat, you moved towards the foundry. It wouldn’t hurt to take a peek, would it? To see what was up, what it was like in there outside of trials (unoccupied, you hoped). However you soon realized that it wasn’t unoccupied, because as you neared the building you could hear the grating sound of stone on metal and you figured that he was probably in there, sharpening something- it made sense that he’d spend his time outside of trials doing something of the sort. 

With caution, you approached the building.

So engrossed by his task, he failed to notice you as you slowly peered your head around the corner of the door to get a better look at him. Watching him work, in his element, was something else entirely.

God, he was huge. You never truly had the opportunity to take a long look at him given the fact that literally all of your time spent around him was time spent running for your life, but now you could actually take him in fully. Even sitting, parked on one of the large rusty pipes that made up the interior of the building hunched over as he worked on a trap, he dwarfed you. The sheer strength in his body scared you and you realized now that he could probably, very easily, break every bone in your body if he wanted to.

On the ground below him were miscellaneous objects; mostly a few traps (some were set, some seemed busted up, a few seemed to have been triggered which answered your previous question about why on earth you heard one go off- he must’ve been testing them) and surrounding them were various tools, none of which you could identify or name.

Just how long exactly you spent watching him you were unsure of, but you were brought back to reality by something totally unexpected: him speaking to you.

“What d’you want?” 

His voice was deep, gruff, and ridden with annoyance and irritation. Exactly as you imagined he’d sound. He didn’t even bother looking up from his work when he spoke- how long had he been aware of your presence?

You knew his question wasn’t a genuine one, rather it was an attempt to just figure out whatever your intention for showing up unannounced may be so he could get you to leave. When he briefly glanced up at you, you got the feeling that he looked you right in the eye and it only worsened the tension you already felt and you could only guess that he wasn’t too pleased with you interrupting him and his work.

You stood there staring at him as it took you a minute to even register that he had, in fact, asked you something.

“I’m sorry?” Your voice was quiet and weak, sounding more timid than you intended and you scolded yourself mentally for it. Your mouth, your voice, felt unable to form proper, coherent sentences, and you felt your face redden with the heat of embarrassment. You couldn’t really blame yourself, though. This was one of the men that has killed you more than a handful of times and you were beyond terrified of him.

He huffed, not even attempting to hide his annoyance with your weak attempt at a response, and didn’t bother looking up from his lap. He remained silent after that for a moment, seemingly completely uninterested in your obviously unwelcome presence.

As much as you didn’t want to speak to him again, you knew it was in your best interest to explain to him what was going on, so taking a deep breath you bit the bullet and spoke.

“I left the Campfire- our, Campfire- and somehow got here. I can’t get back, the way I came was blocked off when I tried, and I… don’t know what to do.” You spoke simply, and you hoped it at least cleared the air somewhat and let him know that you didn’t want to be here anymore than he wanted you to be.

He seemed to take a second to think over what you said, and you felt a small glimmer of hope at the possibility that he may be somewhat merciful and help you leave, but the second he spoke you realized that probably wasn’t going to happen.

“Not my problem.” He said, and the tone of his voice made you realize that perhaps you should’ve tried harder to leave when you first thought of it.

You were about to open your mouth again when he briefly stopped drawing the sharpening stone over a tooth of the trap and while you couldn’t gauge his expression given by the fact that his face was covered by his mask, you could tell by the way he looked up from the tools in his hands that he was staring right at you.

Before he could say something again, you spoke up.

“Look, I can tell that you really dislike the fact that I’m here and I’m not crazy about it either, but I don’t. know how. to get back. If I did, I’d be gone, but I don’t, okay?” You harshly punctuated your words. You knew it wasn’t a smart idea to talk to him like that but it was your turn to get annoyed; you were tired, and the walk you went on was to clear your mind and the fact that you wound up in your current position just made you feel agitated.

You regret it almost immediately though, as the way he sat up fully and cocked his head slightly made you realize that your tone may have pissed him off.

“Y’know, you’re really getting on my nerves, girl. It’s not my problem that you got yourself lost, so I suggest you figure it out yourself and go back to wherever it is you came from, you understand me?” He spat.

The way he stood up and quickly closed the gap between the two of you made you shudder. You barely reached his ribs, and you were beginning to wonder what exactly would happen if a Survivor was killed outside of a trial, as that seemed like the the most probable outcome for the current situation. Your heart pounded in your chest as you just stared up at him, your voice lost.

“If you have nothin’ more to say, then the door is right there. I have work to do and can’t do it with you standing there gapin’ at me.” He made no motion to move as his eyes bore into your own, and he sounded incredibly irritated with you. Fearing what would happen if you angered him anymore than you already had, your breath shook as you slowly turned around and shuffled to the door, half expecting to feel his cleaver meet your back.

Tears welled in your eyes as you walked away from the foundry; you were terrified and so, so confused. You hadn’t idea how you were supposed to get back because as expected, the spots along the wall where the gates usually manifested were still nothing but solid brick. You realized that you were going to be hanging around for much longer than you wanted to, so you found a small nook within some of the old walls that were still standing around the yard and sat down, hugging your knees to your chest as tears fell from your eyes.

Hopefully, the Entity would realize the mistake that occurred and would correct it soon. It had to, right? Didn’t it have like, an omniscient presence or something? Surely it knew what was going on, but as time went on and no sign of any exit showed your hope dwindled and your fear of what the Trapper would do to you if he found out that you were still trespassing only grew.

Though it could’ve been anywhere from a few minutes to an hour, you had no idea how much time had passed when you heard the sound of heavy footfalls coming closer. Not wanting to anger him anymore than you already had, you wedged yourself as far back into the corner as you could, trying to make yourself as small and as inconspicuous as possible in the hope that he’d pass right on by.

It didn’t work.

He didn’t say anything when he found you, instead he just… loomed over you. To your relief though, judging from his stance he didn’t seem as irritated or annoyed as he did before but you still worried about what he might do considering you didn’t leave after he explicitly told you to do so.

He didn’t speak as he stood towering over your seated form, and you took that as an opportunity to gesture wildly, pointing rather aggressively towards the nonexistent exit and mumbling “See?”. You hadn’t any idea what else to do. He told you to sort it out yourself, but you literally couldn’t, and you only hoped he would realize that you weren’t still here by your own free will. 

“Come on, get up.” He spoke with a sigh, catching you off guard. You looked up at him, your expression nothing short of bewildered as he motioned for you to stand and although you were incredibly reluctant to do so, you did as you were told.

“Thought you wanted me gone.” You said with a quiet sniff. You were half expecting him to respond with some harsh retort per the norm but his response of “Obviously that’s not happening, is it.” suit you fine as he turned and headed back towards the foundry, and you thought that just maybe, he’d had a change of heart.

Once in the doorway, you noted that he did indeed seem considerably less irritated with you than before, and you also realized that the majority of the traps on the ground were now fixed up and looking as sharp, literally, as ever.

“Sorry, again. Don’t mean to be getting in your way.” You said, your voice not much louder than a mumble, and his reply of telling you that you weren’t caught you greatly off guard as he had told you just before that you indeed were.

“I realize now I was too hard on you earlier, it wasn’t necessary of me,” He said as he returned to his previous seat before continuing. “I’ll tell you what- if you can keep quiet and not bother me while I get this mess sorted,” he loosely gestured to the remainder of the busted traps, “then I don’t really care if you stay here ‘till you get your mess sorted. Just keep quiet, got it?”

His change of heart was unexpected, but you were relieved to see that he wasn’t a completely disobliging guy once he had time to think. Once you nodded your head in agreement, he was back at it, fixing up and repairing his work and not bothering to respond to you.

Thankfully, it doesn’t last long as eventually the Entity seemed to have realized it screwed up, and from your spot you could see that the gap in the walls along the outskirts of the estate returned to its rightful spot and you couldn’t help but sigh heavily with relief.

The Trapper didn’t even bother to look up from his work as you stood up from your spot on the stairs and made your way to the door once again. Glancing briefly over your shoulder you debated on if you should even say anything since he specifically instructed you not to, but you took a breath and gave a quiet “Thanks”, as you felt that he should know you weren’t the least bit ungrateful for his mercy.

His only response to your gratitude was a hum of acknowledgement and a slight nod of his head. As relieved as you were that the simultaneously awkward yet frightening encounter was over, you couldn’t help but feel oddly lucky that you got to see a different side of him.

[davidmann95]

This weeks comics?

So much to cover, and just so we’re all clear upfront, SPOILERS ahead.

Sideways Annual #1: I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to forgive the cover for simply reading “All-out Action, guest-starring Superman” rather than the declaration of “The Champion of the Oppressed is BACK–JUST WHEN THE WORLD NEEDS HIM MOST!” it demanded, but otherwise what a delightful comic. It’s a mess in so many ways given Morrison’s working with what DiDio laid down for him (which he seems to demonstrate hilarious contempt for when he almost literally drops a bridge on the no-hoper who’d been set up as the arc villain before he can do anything) and jumping on mid-stream to boot, but it’s basically just an extended excuse for him to put dialogue in Superman and the Seven Soldiers’ mouths again and remind everyone how rad his takes on them are, and thereby shame us for abandoning the former. Plus give us a taste of what his voice for Spider-Man would be, which it turns out is a perfectly fine one in spite of his past professed skepticism that he could pull it off. And above all to assure us with a smile and the proper send-off (a particularly satisfying one for me personally given my arachnophobia) we never got before that even if we never see our pal cop-punching, bank-busting, casual Fridays Superman again, he’ll be out there, along with all the other cast-off good Superman ideas, helping out wherever he can.

Also, who else caught the nudge and wink about the Tailor, and how that tells devoted Seven Soldiers fans just how much of role Morrison really played in saving his take on Superman?

Batman #60: Batman is…Batman is weird lately. I honestly don’t have anything else to say about this issue, except that the bit with Alfred cleaning was obviously killer.

The Unexpected #6: So Ronan Cliquet is bad, right? Like, we can all agree that dude is just bringing nothing to the table? I’ve never seen pages so plain look so simultaneously cramped and barren. This book has been such a damn disappointment: clearly promises were made about how much space Orlando would have to work on this that have been entirely broken, he’s cutting past what was clearly intended to be dozens of issues of buildup and fleshing-out of the concept to the grand finale, and he’s already obviously and understandably checked out. This should have been one of those “hey, you never heard of _____, but it was quietly one of DC’s best books for awhile there!” titles you learn about 20 years after the fact, but it was stillborn and unable to explore even the slightest sliver of its potential. It’s almost reached a point where it can make me think its coming conclusion is a mercy killing, but then, said conclusion is the problem.

Justice League #11: The debut of the Super-eyepatch! Otherwise, while it’s definitely not my favorite issue thus far of Snyder’s Justice League, it might be the one that feels the most well-realized in terms of getting his vision on the page thanks to Francis Manapul. I desperately hope he sticks on the book past Drowned Earth, because as much as I absolutely love what Jorge Jimenez and Jim Cheung are doing, his vision feels the most in line with the, as Snyder put it, ‘magisterial’ tone this title is going for a lot of the time.

The Green Lantern #1: Not my favorite Morrison title of the week in spite of its lack of clutter and outside influence, to the point where I’d honestly say it initially left me pretty cold, but much as with Morrison’s last major #1 in Action Comics, a reread did wonders for me once I knew what sort of tone I’d be grappling with. I do think it was oddly structured in a way that didn’t benefit it, leading with the mundane-flavored-with-cosmic with the alien beat cops rather than Hal’s more grounded perspective leading into the awe-inspiring, but given it sets up an immediate contrast with his ‘civilian life’, I’d call it a calculated risk that didn’t quite pay off. Hal himself is interestingly realized, this blunt, bored dude who only really comes alive when he’s on the clock, who’s as hyper-competent at his job as you’d think the Greatest Green Lantern Of Them All would be but almost seems to be sleepwalking through his days. It’s when we reach Oa with the mission statement for the Corps that the book really comes together, meshing up the beautiful design sense, an evocation of some of Morrison’s past recurring themes and elements, and raw high concept into the most powerful evocation of the basic idea of Green Lantern’s Deal I’ve ever read. And Liam Sharp mostly does justice by it; I know some find his style off-putting and his anatomy wonky, but he sells the what-if-GL-was-a-2000AD-strip sensibility, and his work has a framing and structure and a tangible, doughy 3Dishness that recalls the flavor of some of Morirson’s best prior collaborations. Not that, to be clear, I don’t think plenty of those prior collaborators couldn’t have done a much better job with this, but I think this’ll pan out just fine.

On top of that a couple minor notes: I suspect David Uzumeri might have been right regarding the possibility that this could be the book where Morrison delves into the basic question of whether superheroes are by nature cops, and thereby police brutality (Maxim Tox and Hal himself both have some startlingly severe moments in here) and the moral feasibility of the whole business. Rather than rethinking his process in his time away, Morrison’s storytelling tics are as prominently on display here as just about anything he’s ever done. And I was genuinely shocked to see the acknowledgement of Manhattan in here - a landmark chapter in The Last War In Albion in the making if ever there was one - right alongside addressing Snyder’s Justice League, making this to my knowledge the only book in the company’s lineup to acknowledge both contenders to the throne of DC’s current actual Important Cosmic-Scale Story. I suppose Lantern is the place where that makes sense, but both bring interesting elements of their own, as with the Source Wall Morrison’s going right on in and acknowledging how other creators have brought his ideas and spirit to the forefront of the DCU in the last several years, and with Manhattan, having a Grant Morrison DC Comic acknowledge the presence of Watchmen characters as parts of the grand scheme of things makes that whole bizarre business feel real in a way even Doomsday Clock itself hasn’t for me.

Adventures of the Super Sons #4: What a charmer! I harped a lot on Pete Tomasi by and large sucking on Superman, because by and large he sucked on Superman, but put that dude on just the right project to play into his strengths and he absolutely shines.

The Dreaming #3: Wound up in my pull file since I’d unsubscribed so recently, and decided to give it one last chance. It’s pretty and confident in what it’s doing and I’m sure lots of people are rightfully getting a lot out of it, but I’m not one of them and it won’t be getting another shot.

Border Town #3: It feels odd to think this given how much positive attention it’s been getting and how well it’s sold for a modern Vertigo book, but Border Town absolutely still feels like the sleeper hit of 2018. It so feels like the sort of comic that I usually can acknowledge the quality of but doesn’t do it for me personally, so I keep picking it up expecting to not quite gel with a given issue, but each time I’m dead damn wrong. It’s brimming with energy and personality on every level, and it’s still early enough that I can’t possibly recommend enough that anyone who hasn’t given it a chance yet jump onboard.

The Wicked + The Divine: The Funnies: Speaking of titles that I can acknowledge the quality of but rarely do it for me, I’ve followed W + D from the beginning on the understanding that the fairly subdued joys I take from it on a month-by-month basis will be eclipsed by the scale of my love for it on a full reread, as was the case with the team’s Young Avengers. But boy did this one buck that trend, because it was a hoot. Honestly couldn’t tell you which was my favorite short, because like half the book is made up of front-runners.

Death of the Inhumans #5: Because Death of Some Inhumans, But Don’t Worry Not Any of the Good Ones, Other than Maximus wouldn’t have shifted as much copy. Donny Cates is establishing himself as a solid mid-tier superhero writer alongside your Tim Seeleys and James Tynions, and Ariel Olivetti’s a treat, but I have to call this one a miss.

Shatterstar #2: As I expected it didn’t grab me as much as the first issue since the tenants aren’t front-and-center, but I’m still digging it to a truly startling extent!

Marvel Knights #1: Okay? I mean, I liked it (aside from the unbelievably poorly-chosen ‘I can sort of see even though I’m blind’ line - had to be a dozen better ways of putting that), but aside from that it’s gritty and involves some of the characters with notable history in the imprint, I have no idea why this is the Marvel Knights 20th Anniversary book as opposed to just a random Marvel miniseries that I suppose could be published under that imprint if you wanted. The conceit feels so odd for the intended purpose.

The Immortal Hulk #8: This book is SO FUCKING GOOD ALL OF THE TIME AT EVERYTHING AND YOU ALL NEED TO BUY IT AND TELL YOUR FRIENDS ABOUT IT. CHRIST. Still the best super-shit on the stands.

DC Nation #6: Yanick Paquette needs to write Batman explaining science so as to teach us how to better fight crime for as long as he lives, if not in fact longer.