#the implications of meeting him earlier really undermines his appearance later

[blueskiesandstarrynights]

I'm rotating this ep in my head. I'm considering these interesting changes. I'm intrigued. I don't quite know if I like them yet but I'm still thinking.

[hamlets-ghost-zaddy]

he’s a funny man (that man of mine)

George Luz x Reader

Summary: At the tail end of your USO-tour, and staring down the reality of returning to Hollywood and the studio-controlled life you’ve always known, you meet a man who makes you break all your rules of starlet survival.

You realize that chucking the magazine at your agent, Douglass Weil, entirely undermines your point, but the immediate (if short-lived) relief of sending that rag and its lies spiraling toward the man who contrived it feels, well, almost worth it. You’ll regret it later, you know, but when it smacks his rectangular nose and flops limply into his lap, a swell of satisfaction balloons your chest and straightens your back, squaring your shoulder as if you aren’t wearing a gauzy silk dressing gown.

“Darling,” he drawls, his Californian accent the latest borrowed detail about him: his padded-shouldered suit, his jauntily slanted fedora, hell, his name is a fabrication; another Hollywood illusion schemed up in the backlots of Burbank. Not that I’m any better, you think, darkly. He reaches to cradle your hands but you jerk away, turning resolutely back to your mirror to finish your mascara. Not to be deterred, he tries: “Darling, it’s no skin off your nose; it’ll look good for the kid’s new picture and Mr. Warner promised, if you’re a good girl, he’s got a part all lined up. A movie musical with Freddy Astaire—they’ll wrestle him away from Ginger for you! All you need to do is go on a few dates with this boy when you get back from this silly tour.”

Your shoulders stiffen: the USO tour—base hoping around northern France—had been a lifeline, a ticket out from Los Angeles and underneath the thumb of Jack Warner, and your stomach churns to think that here, little, grimy Mourmelon, would be your last stop before Douglass frog-marches you to staged dates with your ‘boyfriend,’ Alexander Blake.  You realize there’s a war on here in Europe, sure, but it’s the closest to peace you’ve known in, well, years.

But Douglass promised—threatened, more like, you think—to join you for the last performance way back in August when you set off for Paris, and ‘accompany’ you home. And, arrive he did, right on schedule, here to end your brief flirtation with a normal life.

You return the mascara wand to its tube before snatching up a powder puff, applying a thick layer to withstand the grueling stage lights. Through the mirror, you cock an eyebrow at Douglass. “What happened to that promise of more serious parts? Roles with substance?”

Douglass spreads his heads, as if asking what he could possibly do, and you bite the inside of your cheek to keep from snapping, or worse, crying. As a little girl, filling the bit parts and making the audience melt, you witnessed starlets—pretty things with shining blonde curls and tiny waists—throw tantrums with the full water works. Men bent and scraped, if only to stop the tears, and you swore to yourself then you’d never cry for what you wanted—never cry for anything. You’d never cry and allow a man to see you. If you can help it, showing any kind of emotion isn’t preferable. Emotions can be manipulated; emotions are weapons of mass destruction, and your war is against Douglass—Mr. Warner—hell, all of Hollywood. Or, at least, a war against letting them swallow you up and spit you out as someone you don’t recognize (with a pitting stomach, you wonder how throwing the magazine at Douglass might be twisted against you; yes, you knew you’d regret it).

Putting aside the puff, you shuck off the dressing gown, taking a moment to arrange the red cocktail dress underneath. “I’ll see you after the show,” you throw over your shoulder, slamming the dressing room door behind you before Douglass can think to follow.

Heat burns the inside of your chest, razing your throat, and you want to pound your firsts against the hallway walls—you want to scream and cry—but you know it won’t help. It won’t make you feel any better and, anyway, it’ll leave you with bruises when you go onstage.

Damn Douglass and damn Alexander Blake, though you have no idea who the kid is: another youngster in the parade of youngsters the studios want to make into the next Cary Grant, or Clark Gable—make into someone desirable, someone who a beloved movie-musical actress like yourself would be interested in taking to lunch here, to dinner there, perhaps even to an aperitif, too. Because why not rub it in my face that I’m just some silly girl who’s only allowed to flutter her eyelashes and do the Charleston?

Sucking down a breath, you decide to go check in on your dancers—the girls who piled into transport trucks and traversed France with you—and set off towards their shared dressing room. They chatter incessantly, true, and sometimes about silly things like ‘making it big’ and ‘catching a break,’ but Mary-Frances also reads all about this new thing called insulin, and Joyce keeps up with the stock market with her subscription of The Wall Street Journal, and Betty is teaching herself how to fix up automobile engines. They’re interesting girls—allowed to be interesting and multitalented and alive—and you’d never tell them how horribly you wish to be them; they’d never believe you, anyway. So, you go for the second-best thing: to sit and listen to their overlapping babble.

Or, you thought you were going to them. But, as you continue, taking one right, then a left, then another, the hastily-constructed plaster walls, pocked by wooden doors, seem to stretch into a uniformly unfamiliar infinity. Frowning, you mulishly continue on, the click of your heels ricocheting through the deserted corridors of the military compound. Your dressing room is situated near the stage, the familiar pre-performance hubbub of gaffers, stage boys, lighting crew, and costumers offering an ambient noise to tickle your ears, but their calls had been left behind at the second turn. Silence reigns over you now.

“Oh, for Pete’s sake,” you mutter, the echo of your voice the only reply.

Then: “Sorry, doll, the name’s George, not Pete.”

A door, you hadn’t noticed it was ajar earlier, swings in, allowing a crooked smile to appear. The man wearing it has an angular jaw, hair insistent on flying away at all angles, and eyes apparently jealous of his smile—they crinkle into crescents, contributing their own amusement to shine brighter than a mere crook of a grin. “Uh, hello,” you greet.

“Hello yourself,” he replies, leaning a shoulder against the doorjamb. “Who’s Pete?”

“Oh, no, I meant it as—” you begin to clarify, interrupting yourself as you watch his smile widening: “Oh, you were joking.”

“Call it a character defect: I’m chronically joking,” the man—George?—says, pushing off from the doorjamb. “But, uh, and I’m not trying to be rude, here, but you’re not supposed to be wandering around here.” His eyes sweep over your red dress, the artificial flower pinning your hair back, and you brace yourself for recognition: the mystified expression, the garbled, tripping words. You love your fans—they’re better than Judy Garland or Marlene Dietrich’s, you know—but you always wonder why being in movies calls for fans to take leave of their common sense. Yet, all he says is: “You in the show? A dancer?”

Relief eases your shoulders and you cling to his handy excuse: “Yes, a dancer, that’s exactly right.” Ignoring his raised brow, you hurry on: “A very lost dancer, unfortunately. I meant to go down the hall to another dressing room and, well, here I am.”

Sliding his hands into his trouser pockets, he replies, “You’re lucky they got me tinkering with radios back here. It’s an absolute maze; you would’ve been hopelessly lost. Could’ve wasted away and no one would be the wiser. We would’ve found your skeleton in about seventy years, all shriveled up and just your big flower there left.” He points to the artificial flower.

Biting your lip to stifle a laugh—you don’t notice his small, little disappointed frown—you return: “I don’t love the idea of wasting away, honestly; would you mind pointing me in the right direction, preferably the one that doesn’t lead to any wasting?”

He shrugs, pulling an exaggerated expression, all jut-out lips and lifted eyebrows. “Sure thing, but, I can do you one better: I’ll personally escort you back to them show people.” Setting off down the hall, slowing his steps to oblige your slower steps in your heels, he adds, “Stick with ol’ Georgie Porgie, and he’ll look after you.”

“‘Georgie Porgie?’” you repeat, another laugh threatening to bubble up.

George feigns a blanche. “Did I say that out loud? Silly me, I say the darnest things.” He flaps his hand in embarrassment, and it’s harder to keep your laughter down. Still, you manage. George tacks on after a beat: “It’s what the fellas in my company like to call me, ‘Georgie Porgie;’ they’ve got a whole song that goes—uh, well, maybe it’s not appropriate for present, polite company.”

“What? Is it crass?” you ask, innocently. It’s suddenly immensely intriguing to study the faint shading of pink seeping from his ears and across his cheeks. “Lots of swearing and vulgarity?”

Grinning in acknowledgement of your teasing, but agreeing with gravity, George warns: “Enough to make your ears absolutely bleed. I’m protecting you here; you should thank me—and it’s a right here.”

“Really?” you ask, glancing around as George turns right and you follow. “And not a left? Are you sure?”

“Yep.” He pops the ‘p’ sound. “Sure as sure; why? You interested in wasting away all of a sudden?”

“Oh, no. Decidedly not.”

“Or getting us lost together, huh?” His eyebrows climb in scandalized implication. “I’ve got to warn you: I’m not that kind of fella; I’m classy, and you’d have to at least buy me dinner first.”

You snort. “What kind of dinner are we talking here? At the Ritz with desert, appetizers, and vintage wine, or at a burger stand with a side of extra fries?”

George seems to genuinely consider the question. “Is there chance of getting fries at the Ritz? The convenience of it being at a hotel is something to consider—” it’s such a mild innuendo, not even accompanied with the winks and leers you’ve grown accustomed to from parties in Beverly Hills mansions, but it still scalds your skin, snagging your breath, “—but the fries . . .”

Valiantly, you ignore your blush, hoping your foundation is thick enough to disguise it. “If memory serves, there’s a scarcity of fries at the Ritz.”

“Whoa, we’ve got a class-act dame over here,” George bursts, clutching one hand to his chest, fanning himself with the other. “You’ve been to the Ritz? Geez; how fancy would you say you are? On a scale from ‘eating jars of caviar’ to ‘bathing in money?’ Like—what, a solid ‘wears diamonds once and then throws them away?’ That’s pretty fancy, you know.”

And you can’t help it this time: the laughter bubbling in your stomach, before at a low simmering, boils over and bursts from your mouth. You have to stop walking, George continuing on a few steps before your faint wheezes materialize into proper laughs. He stills, observing you with a slow-spreading elation. A hand covers your mouth, as if trying to shove the giggles back into your mouth, but it does nothing—not even mutes your snort. Snorting! You hold up a finger as you laugh and manage a chopped: “First of all, money is extremely unsanitary; I’d never bathe in it—”

George folds his arms. Before content to watch your laughter, his smile threatening to shatter his face in two, he can’t help interjecting: “Alright, well what’s your scale of fanciness then, huh? If money is so dirty?”

“You sound like the Lone Ranger, or something; all holier-than-thou,” you reply, dabbing delicately at your eyes as you subside into hiccups. You hope your mascara isn’t running, hope you don’t look entirely like a deranged raccoon. Putting on a John Wayne impression, voice gravelly and low, you say, “‘I don’t want your di-rt-y, blood money.”

He sniffs. “I prefer a Wyatt Earp-type character.”

Tilting your head, you squint at him and he puffs under your scrutiny, squaring his shoulders and planting his feet. His hands go to his hips, giving him the illusion of having a broader chest. Carefully you keep your face neutral, neutral to your teeming mind noting the hint of muscles under his uniform sleeves, hard pectorals pulling at his shirtfront, and offer, “I see it just a little bit.”

Deflating dramatically, he shrugs. “I guess that’s the best I can hope for, huh?”

Patting his chest as you start off again—yes, just as toned as they appear—you assure, “Absolutely. Now, come on—is this still the right way?”

. . .

George delivers you to the corridor connecting to the wings of the stage, the tour’s frazzled stage manager swooping in on you with preternatural speed. “There you are!” he says, jabbing an accusatory finger, and you offer a weak smile of apology. You’d broken your golden rule: don’t make the technical staff lose hair over you. “Do you know we’re on in two minutes? Where have you been? Never mind, I don’t want to know; who’s this?”

The stage manager’s eyes swing to George.

Finding your voice out of necessity to protect the innocent—though you doubted that’s an adjective often ascribed to George—you hastily explain: “He’s a friend; he helped me find my way back here. Can we get him a front row seat?”

The stage manager’s mouth hinges open, ready to protest, before he tosses his hands. “Sure, why not? Let’s add one more thing to my plate!” He pivots sharply, wrenching the door to the darkened backstage, striding into the gloom.

“What a nice guy,” George observes as a troop of brass players, the opening number for your tour’s line-up, hurries past. Turning to you, he asks, “What kind of dancer are you that you can ask for front row seats for little old me, though, huh? Not that I don’t appreciate it, mind, but—”

“It’s my way of saying ‘thank you;’ we’ll be square for you helping me,” you interrupt. Though he coaxed a smile and laughter from you, you weren’t about to go owing George—you don’t owe anyone anything. You’ve heard the horror stories of actresses taking out one too many favors; you couldn’t let yourself get into the habit.

George’s eyebrows scrunch at the word ‘square,’ and you can see an argument brewing on his face—something about favors without recompression, and not being any trouble at all—but the stage manager bursts from backstage, trumpeting: “I have exactly thirty seconds to get this man into his requested front row seat and you, Miss y/n, have exactly sixty seconds before you’re on stage.”

“Got it, thank you so, so much.” You flash a smile, a smile that pays your bills with its brilliance, and the stage manager softens. He gives a stiff nod, as much forgiveness as he’s willing to dole out just then, and sweeps backstage once more.

“Alright, you’ve got to go grab your seat . . . ” you begin, the words shriveling on your tongue when you see George’s slackened expression, color drained from his skin. You cough, and try for a joke: “What? What is it? Is something on my face?”

“What do you mean ‘what?’” George squawks. “Y-you’re—? Why didn’t you—?”

Say something? You mentally fill in, placing a hand on George’s shoulder. “Because I didn’t want you to react like this, Georgie Porgie.” You pause, tracking how his lips press into a line—a line that crams all his questions and flustered annoyances back in—before leaning in to him. “Thank you for not letting me waste away.” And, you do something you’ve never done—despite coaching from the film studio executives, from Douglass, from every publicist; always deriding it as cheap and tawdry, serpentine women’s ploy to pull over on susceptible men—you kiss his cheek.

(When you slid into the darkness of backstage, stealing into the wings to bump shoulders and trade smiles with your dancers, you leave behind a gaping George Luz. He collects himself just as the brass band files off, taking his seat as the lights come up on your opening number. You feel his eyes on you—tracing the smooth skin of your neck exposed in a great expanse by the dress’ plunging neckline—feel his smile returning your cellophane, ready-made grins shot ambiguously out at the faceless crowd. You feel him leaning into your voice, inhabiting it as if to live there forever, as you sing into the microphone of a fictitious ‘sweet darling love’—a darling love you never would have thought existed for you, in your Hollywood-saturated world.)

(But why even dwell on it? you scold yourself, it’s not like I’ll ever see him again.)

Tags: @maiden-of-gondor @gottapenny @wexhappyxfew

[maneaterwithtail]

Episode Appreciation- Duck of Always

Really when you get right down to it there's a lot of positives about this episode and it also shows the series stepping up its game and promising what I think is its best qualities.

I've said before that I think fangbone being an episodic series that focuses on just being really good at action adventure means that it doesn't hit the highs of some of the animation nerd Darlings such as Adventure Time, Steven Universe, or Gravity Falls or what have you. But it also avoids a lot of their pitfalls in particular where there's this sense of nothing happening with character or normie Focus episodes. Basically this happens because you need to be able to put out General episodes were the characters just play off of each other and setting. But if you have radical changes then we want to see those changes even if that runs the risk of undermining the initial setup of the series

well the collective internet criticisms circle were scarred forever due to some long-term hiatuses such as I think it's called the three years summer I Harry Potter fandom and then there was the ridiculous filler Arc that happened in Naruto.[can skip next paragraph]

*When you get to Naruto it's not so much that the series is bad so much as it was such a radical departure for anime consumption as a whole. This was the rise of digital fansubs so we were getting the equivalent of one episode a week when before we were getting maybe two or three episodes every two months and having to pay nearly $50 for them. Add and what we thought we wanted for actual translation and it was an enormous departure. Especially because instead of getting a series completed we were following it along with no real understanding of what went on behind it. It really did change the overall perspective and how we experienced it. So when we hit the enormous filler Arc after sasuke defects... especially considering all that happened before there's a real sense of failure and disappointment for the enjoyment that the audience could get. We work constantly getting more on a developing and expanding world we were sort of stuck on a treadmill period and not a very fun one either*

Really when you get right down to it a lot of it is the sudden change from expectation. And just remember these were high-end professional Productions that had lots of money behind them with teams of people. And they built up a ridiculous amount of bad will just for not even being absent in Naruto's case but the sudden quality shift or overall flow of progression changing.

this is very important for the up-and-coming or amateur Tumblr artist. I completely understand that real life gets in the way but just a reminder in real life if your product isn't regularly available you will lose customer loyalty and just simple attention.

people will forget about you. Sometimes this is necessary many musical artists choose to take a step back behind the scenes or not pop out big billboard topping sort of work so that they can just sort of focus on the craft or just do something else.

And then they pop up again

All this rambling is leading to a point.

Here's the thing when lapis lazuli gets out of the mirror in Steven universe that hints at a large and enormous change that unfortunately the show often feels the need to walk back or not actually follow through on. Which is so frustrating. we just learned that there are now aliens and life forms in space and that there are captured gems that can eat up entire oceans and or heroes are behind and involved in it?. And now we want to go back to who's going to get the next slushy?

After those highs going back to regular can feel really out of place. To be fair this is kind of the point of the series how the day-to-day General Life and how the magical meets the mundane and the ideal perfect has to deal with regular reality and how they relate to each other has been something that Rebecca sugar has pointed out from the beginning. Hence why super goddess rose quartz Falls for what could look no more Mortal and disappointing Then Greg universe.

However that still doesn't mean that it's not a really difficult thing to deal with when effectively the results and consequences of these big events are constantly kicked down the line or ignored so that that way we can keep focusing on what feels like a completely divorced normal. I mean after jailbreak there is no reason why everything should be the same again next episode

I mean these people just experienced the equivalent of Hurricane Katrina tearing down their town in the form of an alien invasion. But don't worry the only person who cares is obviously a self-obsessed nerd so the problem is him

Getting this to actually Fangbone the series The Duck of always represents one of those changes, first two part episode, but it's not that radical one even if there's a lot of new and big stuff thrown in. First we establish the city of minkwater then we established the secret society of the Shadowsteppers then we have to establish Sid herself as well as her Mission and relationship to one-eye.

In fact what's interesting is that arguably the biggest changes are the stuff that's on the margins. When you get right down to it the duck of always it's just another new monster of the week. one that's giving a lot more character and they definitely take advantage of both the humor and strategic potential of an immortal waterfowl. But for the most part we spend a lot of it just examining the characters and what they want to do. How they do it. Why and their attitudes.

It's not an entirely radical change of the setting so much as it is a change in our perspective of the setting and characters that when we inevitably step down after the events it won't feel as if we're ignoring anything that's happened. Sure the duck of always isn't going to be a regular, but it's been established why. he's going to travel the world in order to enjoy new life with A New Perspective.

Moreover the ending and implications of this isn't much different than in the first episode or at least the first double episode that I can buy squeak of Might and lies of Truth. There it is established that bill has a spirit companion that's going to come to his rescue in a time of great need and that there is a vagabond clan of skullbanians on Earth. With the implication that there may be new connections that will appear on Earth that aren't related to drool directly and Fangbone and bill influencing each other

The result is without a necessarily intense serial ongoing story we can then go back to relatively episodic adventures and they acquire a sense of depth while at the same time not feeling like we're ignoring any of the big events.

The character growth and change in perspective is something that you can integrate and examine with the characters and story elements that are staying. And it's actually going to be followed up on. Maybe not immediately but in ways that will be established further. Fangbone suddenly takes a love of knitting? Well guess what happens a few episodes later? it turns out that Ms. Gillian sees his talent as being a very creative artist! Or even earlier than that, this helps establish more of the characters of the class 3-g and Fangbones relationship with them.

Of course they will use the character of Sid to good effect off and on as a pretty good guest star in order to spice things up. Particularly as she comes from Skullbania but comes from a different perspective on everything. Which also does a good job of fleshing out the entire fantasy world and the conflicts that are going on there. In fact it establishes a nice third faction which keeps things just a little bit more interesting. by tapping into the implications of the Shadow steppers fangbone's homeland becomes a richer world

also it feels we really get to expand the character Arc for Bill dealing with well his uncertainty about being able to keep the mission. This replaces the giant cave ape with horns and a helmet from birthday party of dread but it is a similar plot with a waterfowl but that's good because, as I established in the adaptation project, it gives us more motion and set pieces to integrate with. Since the real focus is in fact on bills changing perspective and understanding of what the hell's going on it also means it doesn't feel like we're keeping everything locked behind doors after we've had a peek inside of it. No person who can give us a non crystal gem perspective flying off into literal outer space only to be hinted at knowing things and then turn out to know nothing later. or no desperate science experiment that's on a Doomsday Clock that will create evil monsters more powerful than any that have been faced suddenly having to be interrupted because we've run out of manga to adapt so let's have I don't know let's say vampires.

We don't necessarily hit quite the same Highs but the overall average is very solid because the focus stays on the main characters and the main characters get to understand or do whatever is happening in are the main focus. also on a more appreciative note of what the show does when running through the cliche o matic. Fangbone keeps on saying Bill shouldn't fear failure and he shouldn't give up and all this stuff. But it's not just enough to say The Virtue we get to see Bill work it out and understand what it means to him personally. So it feels as if we're not just getting a moral platitude but we're getting to see someone, to a certain Journey.

@cordset pointed out that arguably Bill actually coaxes the equivalent of a world-weary war veteran out of suicide. I hadn't considered that perspective and for again a relatively simple tail that ultimately is centered around a conflict such as Monster of the week plus an additional interloper it's pretty interesting. And the shadow steppers are used to good effect as well because it actually makes us wonder if this is a good plan having the toe kept with Fang bone

This is a very complete story that feels like it goes through so much and it's just a basic 22-minute piece. And again the focus is aside from the interruption of Sid a standard monster-of-the-week sort of plot. All of which is used to give time to characterize everyone going forward. This will be how fangbone would use its big events. When things are over we will go back to normal. But that's true for even the animated Darlings which will reveal big amazing things and then after the break will be back to episodes like who wants to go on a date or something. Because it doesn't promise to do something so radically different it can actually focus on the changes that it can do or the effects that it will use

At least to me

@ericriverava @wkdart @wedgekun @cartoonemotion @sunder-the-gold @g-00lden @pame-chan-xx @chikachika6

@redlydoom

Basically like I always I want to get some discussion going what are your thoughts on the episode The Duck of always? What did you like about it who did you like about it? How do you think it compares to other series or just in general

@pirateshenani

[threewaysdivided]

#it definitely lived up to my expectations  ❤❤❤ Thank you!

Those are some good questions!  In order of least to most spoiler-adjacent:

Where exactly are they in the Young Justice timeline?

In order to mesh both shows somewhat believably, the lightly-massaged timeline of the DW-verse takes it that Danny Phantom canon (well most of it, I’m taking a little creative license to wrangle some inconsistent writing and episodes that were just not very good Phantom Planet) played out over slightly more than a year, finishing a few months before Young Justice Season 1 starts.  Vlad and Lex meet in the For Humanity as a Whole prologue at roughly the same time, kicking off Danny’s side of the DW plot.  Then the team has their first passing encounter with Phantom at Cadmus during YJ S1E1 Independence Day, after which the two threads split apart while the entirety of YJS1 plays out as per canon.  YJ:DW’s main story resumes in earnest when the threads rejoin in a direct continuation from YJ Season 1, with Chapter 2: Shadow of Doubt taking place within a month of S1E26 Auld Acquaintance.

After that, YJ:DW goes full canon-divergent from all YJ material (including retcons and elaborations made by later seasons/comics/games) except for Season 1 and the companion comics released for that season.  Elaborated upon in this post, this essay where I dissect the writing of later seasons and this answer where I get cross about the implications of said writing but TL:DR I fundamentally disagree with both the creative choices and seeming underlying ideology/moral stance of both Invasion and especially the revival, and I think they actively work to undermine everything I personally loved about Season 1, so I have elected to ignore them henceforce.

What type of mission will we see them on?

All going to plan it will be missions (plural).  YJ:DW is a love letter to YJ Season 1 so I’ve tried to come up with missions in roughly the same vein - lots of the Team investigating things and/or covertly solving problems.  As the story goes on and Phantom gets more settled into the Team the paranormal will indeed start coming out of the woodwork and clues about exactly what evil schemes Vlad and Lex have been cooking up for the gang to deal with will start coming together.  In short more YJS1 style ‘episodes’, with character moments and an underlying overall story, but with increasing spooky ghostliness as it goes on.

Is Clockwork going to make a show up?

This is sort of a yes and no. Clockwork is tricky because his nature as a functionally omnipotent overseer of time who tries not to interfere unless absolutely necessary kind of makes him a diegetic deus ex machina by default.  Narratively he’s sort of already done his job by encouraging Danny to take the offer in Chapter 9: Interference, which was the major butterfly-effect moment needed to ensure Phantom would end up with the Team and everything else could ripple out ‘as it should' from there.  He’ll make a small appearance in the late game as the ghostly business really ramps up but for the most part his dominoes are already in motion so he’s content to just supervise from afar.

Will we see Dani again?

We will!  As mentioned in an earlier ask there is some fun stuff I want to do with her - especially between her and Conner - but she’ll mostly come into play in the late game too.  As of Chapter 6: Brave Faces we know she’s gone to the Far Frozen for safety so for the most part you can assume she’s chilling (heh) there, working on her own stuff while waiting for her cue.

Is Danny going to get a full adoption?

Going to have to give a pretty firm no here but not in a bad ending way.  You have activated my trap card and now I get to be a pedant for this turn.  In a fair amount of DC stories, Bruce takes a long time to formally adopt Dick because (as much as he might come to view Robin as a son) he doesn’t want to supplant his original family or be seen as trying to do so.  With Danny it would be much the same, so while legal guardianship might eventually come on the table, him actually getting a full adoption is definitely not something that would happen within the timeline of YJ:DW’s main story.

There’s also the complication that Danny is, for all legal purposes, officially dead at this point in YJ:DW and trying to reverse that in order to proceed with anything formal would put him straight back on the radar of the people hunting him.  For now it’s safer if Fenton is as much a ghost in the Manor as Phantom is a ghost in the cave, at least until the whole mess gets sorted out.

Is Danny going to stay at the manor indefinitely?

This is an interesting one for potentially spoilery reasons because the question of whether Danny will ultimately choose to stay at the Manor or go with... another potential option that later becomes available is actually an important piece of his planned character arc across the story.  Although if I wanted to be an annoying pedant again I would point out that Danny is a teenager who will eventually grow up and move out so anywhere he’s living right now is probably not going to be his indefinite home.

Functionally though, across YJ:DW the Batcave is Phantom’s (and also Robin’s) main base of operations and Danny lives full-time in Wayne Manor when not in ghost-mode.  That said a lot of their time is spent hanging around with the others at Mount Justice (aka the Cave) between missions because it’s fun to be friends with friends.

Hope that answers everything well enough for now 🙂

The Young Justice: Deathly weapon fic is amazing

I'm only on chapter five but I'm excited to read the rest

Oh goodness, I'm sorry this has been sitting in my inbox for so long!

I'm super flattered that you're enjoying YJ:DW. The later chapters get longer but by this point I expect you've probably had time to read through the rest.

Hope they lived up to the first five. I'd be delighted to hear your thoughts or any questions you might want to ask. ❤

[thefeedpost]

Cohen goes back to Capitol Hillside after banging Trump as phony

President Donald Trump’s former lawyer returned to Capitol Hill on Thursday for hours of closed-door questioning after publicly branding his former boss a racist and a conman who lied about business dealings in Russia and directed him to conceal extramarital relationships.

Cohen was speaking privately on Thursday to the House intelligence committee, the last of three appearances before Congress this week.

Cohen, who pleaded guilty in 2018 to lying to Congress and soon reports to prison for a three-year sentence, gave harsh testimony about Trump on Wednesday.

He said Trump knew in advance that damaging emails about Democrat Hillary Clinton would be released, something the president has denied, and accused Trump of lying during the 2016 campaign about a Moscow real estate protect.

Cohen also said Trump directed him to arrange a hush money payment to a porn actress who said she had sex with the president a decade earlier.

He said the president arranged to reimburse Cohen, and Cohen brought to the hearing a cheque that he said was proof of the transaction.

Cohen’s matter-of-fact testimony about secret payments and lies unfolded as Trump was thousands of miles away from Washington, meeting with North Korean leader Kim Jong Un.

Trump said on Thursday he tried to watch as much of Cohen’s marathon congressional hearing as he could. He slammed the hearing as “fake” and said it was a “terrible thing” for Democrats to hold it during the summit.

He seized on Cohen’s concession that he had no direct evidence that Trump or his aides colluded with Russia to get him elected, the primary question of special counsel Robert Mueller’s investigation. Trump said he was a “little impressed” that Cohen had said that to the House Oversight and Reform Committee.

Cohen, shaking off incessant criticism from Republicans anxious to paint him as a felon and a liar, became the first Trump insider to pull back the curtain on a version of the inner workings of Trump’s political and business operations.

He likened the president to a “mobster” who demanded blind loyalty from underlings and expected them to lie on his behalf.

“My loyalty to Mr Trump has cost me everything: My family’s happiness, friendships, my law license, my company, my livelihood, my honour, my reputation and soon my freedom,” Cohen said. “I will not sit back, say nothing and allow him to do the same to the country.”

In testimony that cut to the heart of federal investigations encircling the White House, Cohen said he arranged the hush money payment to porn actress Stormy Daniels at Trump’s behest and agreed to lie about it to the public and the first lady.

And he said he was left with the unmistakable impression Trump wanted him to lie to Congress about a Moscow real estate project, though the president never directly told him so.

In one revelation, Cohen said prosecutors in New York were investigating conversations Trump or his advisers had with him after his office and hotel room were raided by the FBI last April. Cohen said he could not discuss that conversation, the last contact he said he has had with the president or anyone acting on his behalf, because it remains under investigation.

The appearance marked the latest step in Cohen’s evolution from legal fixer for the president — he once boasted he’d “take a bullet” for Trump — to a foe who has implicated him in federal campaign finance violations.

The hearing proceeded along parallel tracks, with Democrats focusing on allegations against Trump while Republicans sought to undermine Cohen’s credibility and the proceeding itself.

As Republicans blasted him as a convicted liar, a mostly unrattled Cohen sought to blunt the attacks by repeatedly acknowledging his own failings.

He called himself a “fool,” warned lawmakers of the perils of blind loyalty to a leader undeserving of it and pronounced himself ashamed of what he’d done to protect Trump.

Cohen is due to begin a three-year prison sentence in May, and he described himself as cooperative with multiple investigations in hopes of reducing his time behind bars.

He is seen as a vital witness for federal prosecutors because of his proximity to the president during key episodes under investigation and their decade-long professional relationship.

The first of six Trump aides charged in the Trump-Russia investigation to testify publicly about crimes committed during the 2016 campaign and in the months that followed, Cohen also delivered biting personal commentary on a president he said never expected to win in the first place.

“The campaign — for him — was always a marketing opportunity,” Cohen said.

He recounted that Trump made him threaten schools he attended to not release his grades and SAT scores and denigrated blacks as “too stupid” to vote for him.

He said Trump once confided to him that, despite his public explanation of a medical deferment from the Vietnam War because of bone spurs, he never had any intention of fighting there.

“I find it ironic, President Trump, that you are in Vietnam right now,” Cohen said.

Cohen gave lawmakers his first-person account of how he arranged to buy the silence of Daniels and former Playboy model Karen McDougal, who said they had sex with Trump.

He described a February 2017 conversation with Trump in the Oval Office in which the president reassured him that reimbursement cheques sent through Federal Express were coming but would take some time to get through the White House system.

He said the president spoke to him last year to discuss the public messaging around the transaction and even put his wife, Melania Trump, on the phone so Cohen could lie to her.

“Lying to the first lady is one of my biggest regrets,” Cohen said. “She is a kind, good person. I respect her greatly, and she did not deserve that.”

In an allegation concerning Mueller’s probe, Cohen said he overheard Trump confidant Roger Stone telling the candidate in the summer of 2016 that WikiLeaks would dump damaging information about Clinton.

Trump put Stone on speakerphone as Stone relayed that he had communicated with WikiLeaks founder Julian Assange and that “within a couple of days, there would be a massive dump of emails that would damage Hillary Clinton’s campaign,” Cohen said. Damaging emails US officials say were hacked by Russia were later released by WikiLeaks.

Trump responded by saying “wouldn’t that be great,” Cohen said.

Stone disputed that account, and Barry Pollack, a lawyer for Assange, said Stone and Assange did not have the telephone call that Cohen described.

Cohen also suggested Trump implicitly told him to lie about a Moscow real estate project.

Cohen has admitted lying about the project, which he says Trump knew about as Cohen was negotiating with Russia during the campaign. Cohen said Trump did not directly tell him to lie, but “he would look me in the eye and tell me there’s no business in Russia and then go out and lie to the American people by saying the same thing.”

Cohen said he doesn’t have direct evidence that Trump colluded with the Russian government during the election but he has “suspicions,” including after a June 2016 meeting between the president’s oldest son and a Kremlin-connected lawyer.

“I wouldn’t use the word ‘colluding’. Was there something odd about the back-and-forth praise with President Putin?” Cohen said. “Yes, but I’m not really sure I can answer that question in terms of collusion.”

The post Cohen goes back to Capitol Hillside after banging Trump as phony appeared first on TheFeedPost.

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[matarabarian]

Throne of the Abyss Chapter 1

Forest groaned as the second he had opened his eyes; his entire body ached. He stared up at the sky, without a single cloud across the vast expanse of blue. Quickly, he pushed himself up and held his head in one hand. Ugh, what the… where the heck was he? Did aliens abduct him in the middle of the night or something?

He looked around seeing nothing but grass, rocks, and trees with sunlight streaming through the leaves. Forest took a moment to appreciate the irony of him being in a forest, before the panic fully set in. Where was he? Why was he here? What happened to him? Who brought him here?

“Hey!”

Forest jumped and whirled around, still sitting, as a boy ran through the woods up to him. Dark brown hair flopped over gray eyes which stared curiously down at Forest, hope springing into them. “Oh, thank God. I was afraid I was just seeing things,” the boy said, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “I thought I was all alone here for a second.”

“Do you have any idea what’s going on?” Forest asked, relieved to see another person.

“Just woke up a few minutes ago,” the boy said, shaking his head. “Same for you?”

“Yep,” Forest confirmed.

The boy offered him a hand and pulled Forest to his feet. “I’m Louis, what’s your name?”

“Forest.”

“Well, if that isn’t a bit of irony,” Louis muttered.

“Already realized that,” Forest replied.

Louis looked up at the sky, frowning. “Seems like it’s been day for a while now, but I don’t know how long I- we have until it gets dark again. Anyway, let’s find some more people. Survival theory and all that.”

“More people in a group, the slower you move but the more likely someone will be able to solve a problem or have a skill that allows the group to survive,” Forest said quietly. “Up to a certain point, when resources become scarce.”

“The first person I meet is not a total idiot, my luck is good today,” Louis said. He paused, then amended, “If you ignore everything else going on, that is.”

Forest had so many questions he wanted to ask the other boy, but he let them die on his tongue. Louis was in the same situation he was in, and likely didn’t know any more than he did. Asking would just annoy the other boy and Forest didn’t really want Louis to be pissed off right now, especially in this situation.

“Hm, hey, Forest? Give me advice on something,” Louis commanded suddenly, startling the green-eyed boy.

“S- sure!” Forest said, eager to be of use.

“Should we call for other people and run the risk of drawing the attention of something less friendly, or keep quiet and look around but probably not find anyone else to help us?” Louis asked.

“We’d be safer now if we kept quiet, but in the long run, it might be better to have more people,” Forest said.

“Fair point, so it’s really between sacrificing safety now to ensure security in the future, or being secure now but go forward on unstable grounds,” Louis mused. “Hm, I can’t say I want to be surrounded by a bunch of scared people, but I do want to live and as I said earlier, survival theory says we should in this situation, so I guess we have to start yelling.”

“Got it,” Forest said, then took a deep breath. “Hello? Anyone here? Any bears, cougars, or monsters stay away!”

“Hey! Anyone else out there? If anyone can hear me, come over here!” Louis yelled.

“Hello?”

Forest and Louis stopped yelling for a second when they heard the response, then started shouting at the top of their lungs. “Over here! We’re this way! Come on!” They kept rambling until they heard a crunching and a few seconds later three girls and a boy ran out of the woods. One of the girls took one look at the pair, then jumped on Forest and hugged him. “Ack!” Forest yelped. His face warmed up and he pushed her away slightly, but she just clung on tighter. “Can you get off of me?”

“Please no, I’m really scared,” she whimpered.

“I...” Forest looked down at the girl whose long light brown hair was swaying slightly in the wind and the parts that weren’t were being upset by her shaking shoulders, and hugged her tightly. “It’s going to be okay, I promise.” He felt a strong sensation, like sadness greater than he had ever felt before, and his head started spinning. Then, just as soon as it came, it was gone as he loosened his grip slightly.

“Why’s she crying?” Louis asked.

“Guessing because she’s scared, Einstein,” a blond girl with long, wavy hair and a sleeveless denim jacket said, hands on her hips.

“Now isn’t the time for crying, we need to keep our heads,” Louis ordered. “Now everyone tell me your names so we can get a move on doing whatever our next move is.”

“I’m Brittany,” the blond girl said, throwing back her hair.

“L- Lucille,” the girl clinging onto Forest’s shirt chimed in.

The only boy of the group glanced at them with disdain evident in his eyes. “Philip.”

“Call me Merry,” the black haired girl said.

“Mary, huh?” Louis said. “As if that wasn’t one of the most common names in existence.”

“Merry,” she corrected, sounding bored. “M-E-R-R-Y. Everyone makes that mistake.”

“Neat,” Louis replied, not sounding like he really cared. “I’m Louis. And this is is Forest,” he added, almost as an afterthought.

“Either of you idiots have any idea what’s going on?” Philip asked.

“Watch it,” Louis warned. “We can all just leave you behind. We don’t need any hindrances to our survival.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Philip snarled and Louis’ eyes narrowed.

“If I think you’re a threat, you’re not going to last long here. Strength in numbers, after all. And if you’re not a boon, you’re a danger, got it? We’re alone in an alien environment and if you think undermining me is going to help anything, you’re sorely mistaken. I will drop you if I think you’re going to cause us all to die by your refusal to be a team player, capisce?” Louis said. Everyone stared at him. He laughed nervously. “Sorry if I was a bit intense, I’m just… a little nervous, to put it lightly.”

“Yeah, okay, fine man, we’re cool,” Philip said, looking away. It appeared he had been more than a little intimidated by Louis’ speech.

“Right,” Louis said, taking a deep breath. “So how long have you been awake?”

“I dunno, five, ten minutes?” Philip said. “I had to wake these idiots up.”

“I was already awake,” Merry commented. “I just didn’t want to get up.”

“Great for you,” Brittany replied. “I had to wake up to this moron standing over me.”

“Excuse me?” Philip snapped. “I could’ve left you lying there, you know!”

“Please, you wouldn’t have,” Brittany scoffed.

“Let’s all calm down,” Louis said. “Did you see anyone else?”

“Nah, it’s just the four of us,” Philip replied.

“I see...” Louis mused. “I suppose there could potentially be more of us out there, but this group’s large enough for now. Let’s forgo looking for now and focus on figuring out where we are and how to get home.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hold up!” Philip snapped. “You just want to stop looking for anyone else? What if there’s another group out there? Or even worse, there are a bunch of kids out on there own? And what if they’re really young? You want to leave a preschooler or a toddler out in the middle of the woods?”

“A hypothetical preschooler or toddler,” Louis said coldly. “Besides,” he continued in a much more friendly, charismatic tone. “I doubt if, and that’s an if, there’s anyone else out there, they’d be much younger than us. It’s more likely they’d be around our age. After all, we all look like we’re in high school, right?”

Everyone took a moment to realize and appreciate this fact, then Brittany nodded. “He does have a point. There’s probably no one else and if there is, they can take care of themselves.”

“I agree,” Merry said. “I don’t want to walk around this place anymore. I just want to sit down and rest for a while.”

“I- I’m sorry, but I’m with Philip,” Lucille said. “We shouldn’t leave anyone else out there just because we were too lazy to look!”

“It isn’t laziness, it’s just logic,” Louis explained, smiling sympathetically. “I wish we could go looking, but we just can’t.”

“We can totally go looking for others!” Lucille snapped, pulling away from Forest. “We can’t just abandon the others on a whim-” she broke off and swayed where she stood, then pitched forward and would’ve fallen on her face if Forest hadn’t caught her. The others looked on in shock and fear, except for Louis.

“This is what I’m talking about. We’re all tired and if we wander around looking for people, someone is going to pass out like you almost did. It’s just logic, people. If we figure out where we are, we can figure out where shelter is, which means we can rest, and which also means we can get home faster. Not exactly rocket science,” Louis said as Lucille stumbled back onto her feet. “Come on, let’s just start walking.”

“How is that any better than looking for others?” Philip demanded.

“We won’t be shouting and attracting anything that might be hungry,” Louis replied. Philip looked concerned and didn’t protest any more. “How about Brittany and Philip bring up the rear, Merry and Lucille stay in the center, and Forest and I lead?” No one had any reason to argue. “Great, let’s start walking.”

“Hello, fellow humans!” a male voice yelled boisterously.

“Oh, look at that. We didn’t even need to search,” Louis said. “Hey there!” he greeted the boy and girl who had just ran in through the woods.

“We’ve been looking for a while for anyone else,” the girl said, rubbing her forehead. “For me specifically, anyone else other than this guy.”

“Someone’s hit it off,” Brittany commented.

“He’s tried to flirt with me every thirty seconds,” the girl replied.

“Okay, that’s… great,” Louis said. “Keep it in your pants, buddy. We’re not repopulating the earth right now.”

“Hey! I resent that implication!” the boy protested.

“Just keep away from me, loser,” Brittany said. “You don’t have a chance.”

“Can we all focus on other things?” Forest asked, right before he was struck with the same dizzying feeling from earlier. He stumbled to the side and had to lean on Louis, the other boy jumping in shock.

“What are you doing?” Louis demanded.

“S- sorry,” Forest replied, standing back up. “Just got dizzy there for a second. I’m good now.”

“That’s the second time someone has almost passed out,” Merry said, looking a little worried.

“There might be something in the air,” Louis said. “Any objections to us getting moving now, or does Philip want to make us stay here longer until someone actually falls to the ground unconscious or dies from whatever toxins were affecting Lucille and Forest?”

Philip looked at the ground and shook his head. “No, you’re right. Let’s get moving,” he growled out.

“Excellent, now come on. Everyone follow me,” Louis commanded. Forest nodded and fell into step slightly behind Louis but still beside him as everyone else followed the gray-eyed boy. Forest glanced at Louis for a second, then looked straight ahead. Louis was definitely the most likely person to become the leader of this group, if they weren’t rescued soon. He briefly wondered if he should say something to the others about the hunch he had, but pushed it aside. Even if it was true, there wasn’t much point to bringing it up. Besides, they were dealing with enough already and they’d probably find civilization before long, so they didn’t need to worry too much.