#the thief the murderer and the knight

[golden-bubblebee]

this one is in Dutch, and I could not be bothered to read or translate it, so. Yk. Maybe I'll translate it one day.

De dief, de ridder en het meisje

Anne zat rustig in het park. Of zo leek het toch, in werkelijkheid ging haar hart als een gek tekeer. Suisden haar oren en waren haar handen klam van het zweet. Op haar schoot lag een boek. ‘De dief die stal van een moordenaar’ over een middeleeuwse dief die het moordwapen had gestolen van de moordenaar. Nu zaten de ridders van de koning achter de dief aan, denkende dat híj de moordenaar was. De beelden flitsten voorbij haar ogen, ze kon de machtige ridders bijna aanraken. De kleine dief holde haar voorbij, langs de spelende kinderen in het park en… plets! Verschrikt keek Anne op. Voor haar stond Jul. Een jongen van het school die altijd met haar lachte omdat ze graag boeken las. Meestal trok Anne zich niet veel aan van hem, maar nu keek ze woedend op. 

“Jul! Dat was mijn boek! Nu is het geruïneerd! Ik heb er weken voor gespaard!”  

Jul grijnsde alleen maar gemeen, het deed hem duidelijk niets. “Waarom houd je dat oude ding nog vast, je bent precies m’n grootmoeder! Ík heb iets véél beter!” riep hij uit, terwijl hij trots met een telefoon zwaaide. Het was duidelijk een oud en al vaak gebruikt ding, maar dan nog, het was een telefoon! 

Annes ogen werden groot, “Ooh, hoe kom je daar aan? Kost het niet super veel? Ik wil er ook wel een,” ratelde Anne. Jul lachte alleen maar: 

“Jij krijgt er nooit een, je kan het toch niet betalen! Je hebt alleen maar geld voor die stomme boeken van je!” terwijl hij dat zei stampte hij het boek uit haar handen waardoor het in de eendenvijver tuimelde. 

“Nee!” gilde Anne, terwijl ze Jul aan de kant duwde om naar de vijver heen te gaan. Achter haar hoorde ze hem gemeen lachen. Wonder boven wonder was het boek nog niet gezonken. Met een lange stok viste ze het boek uit de vijver. Als ze daarnet nog hoop had gehad hem te herstellen was die nu ook wel weg. De tranen kwamen in haar ogen, ze had zo lang gespaard voor dit boek! Op school had ze haar vriend Liam die altijd hielp Jul weg te houden van haar boeken, maar op haar eentje kon ze niet tegen de oudere jongen op. Kwaad keek ze hem na. Hoe ging ze dit uitleggen aan haar mama? Ze mocht niet weten dat Jul zo gemeen was tegen haar, die extra zorgen wilde ze haar mama niet bezorgen. Voorzichtig wrikte ze de kletsnatte pagina’s open. Ze herkende de uitgelopen stukjes tekst meteen. Het was meer in het begin van het boek, op het moment dat de dief besefte wat hij had gestolen. 

Plots werd alles rond Anne donker. De kleuren werden een groot blauwig waas en alles rond haar draaide. Haar ogen voelden plots zwaar en dik aan. Voor ze wist wat er gebeurde viel ze neer in het gras. Ze voelde nog zwakjes een stekende pijn aan haar hoofd, maar dan werd alles zwart voor haar ogen. 

*

Verward werd Anne weer wakker. Nee, wacht. Ze werd wakker geschud! Naast haar zat een jongen geknield. “Liam? Ben…ben jij dat?” een beetje versuft kroop ze overeind. 

“Ik? Neen jonkvrouwe, volgens mij vergist u zich, wij hebben elkaar nooit eerder gezien. Een schoonheid zoals u zou ik wel onthouden hebben!” nu de jongen sprak hoorde ze dat zijn stem inderdaad in niets op die van Liam leek. Ook zag ze nu dat zijn haar veel meer krullen had. “Wat is uw Godgegeven naam? Ik ben Wilhelm!” verbaasd keek Anne de jongen aan, Wilhelm? Wie heette er nu zo? En ‘Godgegeven’ naam? Wie zegt dat nu? Overdonderd door de vreemde jongen wist ze even niet meer wat te antwoorden. “Jonkvrouwe, is alles in orde?” De jongen had opgemerkt hoe ze rond haar aan het kijken was, opzoek naar haar boek. 

“Eh…ja, sorry, ik ben trouwens Anne. Heb je toevallig mijn boek gezien?” 

Wilhelms ogen werden groot nu, “bent u van de adel? Alleen de priester kan lezen hier! En van wat is Anne een afkorting? Annemarie?” 

Nu was het Annes beurt om verbaasd te zijn. “wat bedoel je, alleen de priester kan lezen? En ik heet Anne, gewoon, Anne.” Haar hoofd tolde door al deze merkwaardigheden. Ze had hoe dan ook geen zin om nog langer met deze vreemde jongen te praten. “Waar zijn we trouwens? En weet je of er een bushalte hier in de buurt is? Dan kan ik naar huis.” De jongen trok zijn hoofd een beetje scheef nu, 

“Buschhalte? Wat is dat? Is dat de naam van je paard?” Anne kon het niet laten, ze trok haar wenkbrauwen op en keek de jongen vies aan, net zoals ze Jul altijd zag doen. Ze begon echt wel haar geduld te verliezen. “Wilhelm, stop met idioot te doen en toon me de bushalte! De tram is ook goed!” De jongen slaagde erin zijn hoofd zowaar nog schever te trekken. “Thram? Is dat je tweede paard? Busch en Thram? Is halte de naam van een herberg? Want hier hebben we er geen. Er is er eentje in het dorp verderop, maar dan ben je al wel stevig afgedwaald want dat is een zevental kilometer verderop.” 

Anne verloor haar geduld. “Kijk, Will! Stop met zo kinderachtig te zijn en toon me gewoon de weg! Is je vader of moeder hier niet?” 

Nu was het de beurt aan de jongen om beledigd te zijn. “Mijn naam is Wilhelm, en mijn ouders zijn op het veld! Niet iedereen kan het zich veroorloven om te leren lezen en maar te zitten niksen!” Kwaad liep de jongen weg. Nu pas merkte Anne de mooie riem op. Hij leek helemaal niet te passen bij de smoezelige jongen. “Hey, kom terug! Zeg me dan op zijn minst waar ik ben en de stad vind!” Wilhelm draaide zich weer om, “de stad is nog kilometers ver! Het enige hier in de buurt is het dorp, en daarvoor moet je naar het noorden lopen!” voor de tweede keer draaide Wilhelm zich woest om, met stevige pas weglopend van Anne. Het zuiden? Dacht de jongen serieus dat ze altijd een kompas bij zich droeg ofzo? 

“Willhelm, je komt nu terug en toont me de weg naar het dorp! Hoe moet ik kunnen weten waar het zuiden ligt?!” Anne voelde hoe haar hoofd rood werd van woede. Wie dacht deze jongen wel niet wie hij was? Voor de derde – en laatste – keer draaide de jongen zich om. “Ben je soms helemaal dom? Het zuiden weet iedereen toch zijn, kijk gewoon naar de zon!” 

Annes hart stopte eventjes. Aan de jongen zijn nek bungelde een prachtige ketting met een enkele groene steen. Ze herkende de ketting als de ketting die de dief in haar boek had gestolen. De ketting die gebruikt was om het meisje te vermoorden. Nu ze erover nadacht bedacht ze zich dat Wilhelm wel erg hard leek op de dief van het boek. “Wilhelm…hoe kom je aan die ketting?” ze hoorde hoe haar stem een beetje trilde, ze wist dat het idioot was, het was een boek verdorie. Maar toch… 

“Dat zijn jou zaken niet!” snauwde Wilhelm kwaad. Anne merkte hoe hij zijn vuisten balde. Langzaam stak ze haar handen in de lucht. “Rustig, Wilhelm, ik wil je alleen maar helpen… ik raad je aan de ketting weg te doen, gooi hem ergens in het bos, of steek hem weer terug in de zakken van de oorspronkelijke eigenaar…” Nu werd Wilhelm echt kwaad. “Zeg je nu dat ik een dief ben? Ik zou nooit stelen van iemand!” Langzaam trok Anne haar wenkbrauwen op. Ze wist dat het een gekke gedachte was, maar ze geloofde in haar gevoel. Als deze jongen echt de dief van het boek was betekende dat ook dat het niet goed zou eindigen voor hem. Al zou ze wel moeten uitzoeken hoe ze hem naar zijn eigen wereld zou kunnen brengen zonder dat hij daar dan weer opgehangen werd voor moord. Plotseling hoorde Anne achter zich een vreemd geluid, een soort rammelen. Wanneer ze zich omdraaide zag ze een ruiter voorbij draven. Hij was helemaal bezweet en had een rode neus. Wanneer de man Anne en Wilhelm zag stopte hij echter. 

“Jij daar! Wat is uw naam en die van je metgezel? En heb je hier iemand voorbij zien lopen in de afgelopen minuten?” 

Wilhelm keek eventjes bang naar de ridder, maar herstelde zich gauw. 

“Ik ben Wilhelm, heer. Deze jonkvrouwe draagt de naam Annemarie!” voordat Willhelm zijn zin kon afmaken onderbrak Anne hem, “Mijn naam is Anne, niet Annemarie! En neen, we hebben niemand voorbij zien komen.” 

De ridder keek beledigd. “Willhelm, je moet je metgezel eens wat manieren aanleren!” Anne keek boos en verbaasd naar de twee mannen voor haar. Ze had toch niets beledigend gezegd? 

“Sorry, edele Heer. Ze is niet van hier en is onze gebruiken nog niet helemaal gewoon.” Nu leunde Willhelm dichter naar de ridder toe en sprak op fluistertoon: “Je zou haar familie bijna barbaren kunnen noemen! Geen respect voor de man!” 

Plots werd Anne lijkbleek. Het taalgebruik. De vreemde verstandhouding tussen de twee mannen. Hoe de ridder duidelijk neerkeek op haar. Wilhelm zat niet in de echte wereld, zij zat in het boek! Ze hoorde haar oren suizen en voelde de wereld draaien. Vermoeid viel ze neer in het gras. Hoe was dat mogelijk? Het was toch maar een boek? En…betekende dat dan dat Wilhelm op het einde van deze dag terechtgesteld zou worden? 

“Annemarie? Bent u oké? U ziet er behoorlijk bleek uit.” 

“Neen, Will, ik ben niet oké.” Even leek Wilhelm uit het lood geslagen door zijn nieuwe bijnaam, maar hij negeerde het gewoon en plofte naast Anne in het gras. Zij kwam echter onmiddellijk weer overeind. “Will, we moeten hier weg en wel nu!” ze sleurde aan zijn hand, maar Wilhelm weigerde te bewegen. “Wilhelm! Ik ben serieus, als je nu niet weggaat loopt het niet goed af!” Anne was nog steeds aan Wills arm aan het trekken, met als resultaat dat ze hem vooruit trok op het lange gras. Een grote glimlach sierde zijn gezicht. 

“Annemarie, het is maar een ridder, er gebeurd je niets. ze zijn hier om ons te beschermen!” 

Nu werd Anne echt kwaad. Wie dacht hij wel niet wie hij was? “Will, verdorie! Ik weet dat de ridder naar jou opzoek was en dat je die ketting hebt gestolen!” Will probeerde nog om zijn gezicht in de plooi te houden, maar begon dan nog harder te lachen. “Anne, Anne, Anne toch. Lieve Anne. Ik heb dit al duizend keer gedaan, geloof me, het komt wel goed. Die ridder is al zo lang ik me kan herinneren opzoek naar mij. Ik laat me heus niet doen!” Anne kon het niet laten, en ook op haar gezicht verscheen een zwak glimlachje. Hij had haar eindelijk Anne genoemd. Ze keek recht in zijn blauwe ogen, betoverd door de beweging die ze erin zag. Nee! Ze moest bij de zaak blijven. Ieder moment kon de ridder hier weer staan en de ketting aan Wills nek zien! Als het boek klopte dan toch. Zo snel als ze kon  gaf ze één stevige ruk aan zijn arm. Eindelijk stond Wilhelm op zijn benen. 

Maar het was al te laat. Ze hoorde hoeven ploffen in het zachte gras. Met schrik in haar hart draaide ze zich om, daar stond de ridder. Deze keer was hij afgestegen. Ze kon niet stoppen met te kijken naar zijn heldere, kille ogen. Dit was een man die moordde. 

“Is alles in orde hier? Ik hoorde geschreeuw?”  Anne duwde Will achter haar rug, in een hopeloze poging hem uit het zicht van de ridder te halen. Zolang hij de ketting niet zou zien was alles in orde. 

“Ja hoor, heer. Alles is in orde hier, gewoon wat aan het stoeien.” De ridder keek haar misprijzend aan. “Leer je dan niets, vrouw. U praat niet tegen mij!” in de tussen tijd was Wilhelm druk bezig met vanachter Annes rug te kruipen, haar armen aan de kant duwend. 

“Sorry, heer. Zoals ik al zij, ze is niet van hier,” Will keek haar strak aan, “ze moet eens leren dat ze niet zomaar tegen vreemdelingen kan praten.” Zijn blik was dwingend en liet er geen twijfel aan dat als ze nog eens zoiets flikte er gevolgen zouden zijn. Op dat moment ontplofte de boel. Het eerst beschaafde gesprek eindigde met een luid “Jij!” waarop de ridder Wilhelm aanvloog. Trekkend aan de ketting gooide hij de arme jongen op de grond. 

“deze ketting! Jij bent de dief! Ik zie je overal, maar dat komt gewoon omdat jij altijd al de verdomde dief was! Jij gaat de brandstapel op!” woest greep hij naar zijn dolk, aangezien zijn zwaard nog aan het paard hing. Maar voor hij de kans had Will neer te steken, klopte Anne met een zware tak op zijn hoofd. In plaats van dat de ridder neerviel, sprong hij op. Zijn gezicht rood van woede kwam hij op Anne af. 

“laat me raden, jij bent ook een van zijn vuile dief maatjes? Terwijl jij die armen mensen bestal kon je metgezel mij bezig houden?” Anne schudde bang het hoofd, ze had hier niets mee te maken. Alles wat ze wenste was dat Wilhelm niet dood eindigde, zoals in haar boek. “Heer, alstublieft. Ik heb niets met hem te maken, ik heb hem nog maar net ontmoet!” ze hield haar armen omhoog in een hopeloze poging zichzelf te verdedigen. Voordat de ridder ook maar kans had haar te slaan verscheen Wilhelm achter de ridder. Hij had het zwaard van de man in zijn twee handen. Hij sloeg heel hard met de pommel* op het hoofd van de woeste ridder. Deze keer had het wel effect en viel hij zwaar op Anne. Met moeite kroop ze vanonder de zware man en keek Will boos aan. 

“zie je nu wat ik bedoel?! We moeten hier weg!” Nu was het Wills beurt om haar verontwaardigd aan te kijken. “Hoe kon je het dan weten, hé! Ben je soms een heks? Een spion?!” Nu werd Anne wel bang, ze moest denken aan een geschiedenisles. Heksen werden verbrand in de middeleeuwen… “Nee, nee ik ben geen heks! Ik…ik had gewoon een slecht voorgevoel!” Wilhelm keek haar wantrouwend aan, “wat zegt je voorgevoel nu dan?” het was duidelijk dat hij er niet veel van geloofde, maar Anne had wel net zijn leven gered. 

“we moeten weg van het dorp. Welke windrichting zij je ook weer dat het dorp was?” Anne draaide rondjes, alsof ze verwachtte dat ze het dorp van hier kon zien liggen. “Het dorp is naar het noorden, dus jij zegt dat we naar het zuiden moeten?” Anne knikte als bevestiging en begon resoluut weg te lopen van de zon. “Eh, Annemarie? Dat is het noordwesten, het zuiden is deze kant op,” sprak Wilhelm twijfelend, terwijl hij met zijn duim over zijn schouder wees. “oh,” en Anne begon nu de kant van de kleine dief op te wandelen. Ze moest en zou Wilhelm levend houden. Het boek mocht niet eindigen zoals het deed. 

Snel holde ze achter Will aan, wat liep die jongen snel! Ze keek nog één keer achter haar, en zag hoe in de verte langzaam de zon begon onder te gaan. Plots stond Anne stil. De zon begon onder te gaan… ze was al heel de dag weg… hoe ongerust zou haar mama nu wel niet zijn? Ze voelde de tranen opwellen, maar veegde ze woest weg. Ze mocht geen zwakte tonen, ze moest sterk zijn. als je zwakte toont, gebruikt Jul het toch alleen maar tegen je.

*een pommel is het uiteinde van het handvat van een zwaard

Wacht eens, Jul was hier helemaal niet! Alleen zij en Wilhelm, en tot nu toe had Wilhelm nog niet echt iets gezegd of gedaan dat super erg was. Behalve dan dat hij eerder op de dag zo stom deed, maar dat begreep ze nog wel. Hij was een dief, bang om gepakt te worden. het was nogal logisch dat hij niet bij haar wou zijn. maar nu had ze blijkbaar zijn vertrouwen gewonnen. “Annemarie! Kom je nog? Jij was de persoon hier die persé weg wou van het dorp!” al kon hij wel zagen, die jongen. Met een zwak glimlachje en de tranen in haar ogen versnelde ze haar pas. Algauw liep ze weer naast de jongen. Het was intussen best donker geworden, maar desondanks kon hij de tranen in haar ogen zien. “Anne? Alles in orde?” Een waterig glimlachje verscheen op haar gezicht, verbaasd dat hij had opgemerkt dat ze huilde. “Ik was aan mijn mama aan het denken, ze is nu vast opzoek naar me. Voel jij je niet schuldig omdat je je ouders zo maar achterlaat?” te laat besefte Anne dat Wilhelm een wees was, of toch volgens het boek, en eerder die dag dus tegen haar had zitten liegen. 

“Ik…eh…ik heb tegen je gelogen eerder vandaag. Mijn ouders werken helemaal niet op het veld. In feite weet ik niet wie mijn ouders zijn. mijn moeder is gestorven tijdens de geboorte. En mijn vader had niet genoeg geld om me op te voeden dus vroeg hij de baron om dit te doen. Maar van zodra ik tien werd moest ik weer weg van hem. mijn vader heb ik echter nooit meer teruggevonden. Al denk ik graag dat hij een ridder is geworden, groot en sterk. En dat hij nu wel genoeg geld heeft om zijn andere kinderen op te voeden.” Even wist ze niet wat ze moest zeggen. Het was best triest dat Wilhelm zich zijn ouders moest inbeelden om gewoon een idee te hebben van wie ze waren. 

“daar, we kunnen in die grot overnachten!” Wilhelm wees enthousiast naar een donkere, smalle ingang. Hoewel Anne wist dat hij gewoon van onderwerp probeerde te veranderen ging ze erin mee. “Hoe weet je dat die spelonk eindigt in een grot?” Wilhelm lachte zachtjes, waardoor Anne niet zeker was of het was vanwege haar dommigheid of omdat hij haar iets kon leren. “hoor je dat? Een zacht gefluit, haast niet meer dan wat gesuis?” Anne spitste haar oren, ze hoorde vooral de wind, maar als ze goed luisterde hoorde ze dat er af en toe wind uit de toon klonk van de rest. Ze knikte, blij dat ze dat had gehoord. “dat wijst erop dat er een grot achter zit. De wind weerkaatst tegen de wanden en werkt zo als een soort klankkast.” Hij trok haar mee aan haar hand door de dunne spelonk. 

Eenmaal ze daar door waren zag ze dat het inderdaad een grot was. Het was niet erg veel breder dan de ingang, maar het was er breed genoeg om er met twee te liggen. Al was het wel erg krap. Ze kroop tegen Wilhelm aan, en gebruikte zijn buik als kussen. Hierdoor kroop zijn T-shirt een stukje naar boven en kon ze een vreemd gevormd litteken zien. Het leek een beetje op een ‘J’.  Ze lagen samen in een bolletje opgerold, aan haar rug voelde ze de rotswand. Wills kalme ademhaling werkte enorm rustgevend en voor ze het wist, lag ze diep in slaap. 

*

Met een diepe zucht werd ze wakker. Langzaam strekte ze zich uit, om alleen maar te ontdekken dat ze tegen werd gehouden door kille rotswanden. Even voelde Anne de angst om zich heen slaan, waar was ze? Maar algauw kwamen de herinneringen van gisteren terug. Hoe Jul haar boek in het water had gegooid en ze daarna op magische wijze ín het boek was beland. Maar waar was Wilhelm? Snel krabbelde ze overeind en schuifelde ze door de spelonk. Vlak voor ze de buitenlucht zag stopte ze echter. Ze hoorde een stem, en het was niet die van Wilhelm. Het was die van de ridder! 

“Dacht je soms dat ik geen sporen kan lezen? Ik laat me heus niet tegenhouden door zoiets stom als een nachtje. Het was trouwens volle maan, domme jongen. Dan heb ik nog genoeg licht. Komaan, spreek tegen me! Waar is je vriendin!” Anne voelde hoe haar hart kil werd, zou hij haar verraden? 

“Ik heb geen idee! Zoals ik al zij, we zijn gisteren uit elkaar gegaan!” Anne voelde een vlaag van rust over zich heen komen. Hij had haar niet verlinkt. ‘Paf!’ Annes hart kromp samen, voorzichtig schuifelde ze nog wat naar voren. Daar zag ze Wilhelm, hij lag op de grond. Neergeslagen door de ridder. Zijn hele gezicht was al dik en gezwollen. Voordat Anne wist wat ze deed kroop ze de spleet uit en vloog op de ridder af. Hoe durfde hij Will zo toe te takelen? Ze sloeg waar ze maar kon, proberende hem toch iets van pijn te geven. De pijn die Will waarschijnlijk ook voelde. Woest begon ze aan de ridders helm te trekken. Ze wou het gezicht zien van deze slechte man. Ze sleurde hem er in één keer af en klopte de ridder heel hard in het gezicht met zijn eigen helm. Dit voelde de man duidelijk wel. Hij greep naar zijn oog, en viel een beetje naar achteren. Nu zag Wilhelm zijn kans. Hij nam Annes hand vast en sleurde haar mee. “Kom, ren zo hard als je kan! We kunnen nooit van hem winnen!” Anne vond dit een goed plan. Ze had zo hard zitten kloppen op de ridder en hij had amper bewogen. Al kwam die helm wel hard aan. Anne voelde ergens een sprankje euforie. Ze had Wilhelm gered! “Will, waar gaan we eigenlijk naartoe?” Anne had gemerkt dat ze de zelfde kant aan het oplopen waren als ze vandaan kwamen. 

“Ik neem je mee naar het dorp, terug naar je ouders. Daar zal je veilig zijn.” Hij keek haar met een zwak glimlachje aan. Al kon ze zien dat zijn ogen droef stonden. Maar Anne trok zich snel los uit zijn greep. “Ik ga niet terug naar het dorp! Ik blijf bij je, en daar heb je niets over te zeggen!” wat was het nut nu eenmaal. Ze kende niemand uit het dorp. De enige twee mensen die ze kenden waren Wilhelm en de ridder. De laatste probeerde haar te vermoorden, dus de keuze was snel gemaakt. Maar Wilhelm kwam nu voor haar staan. Zijn armen gekruist over zijn borst. En zijn benen een beetje open. Hij was duidelijk ook niet van plan toe te geven. “we kunnen ook niet terug, want daar is een erg kwade ridder Julius ons aan het opwachten.” Anne snoof. Was dit het beste argument dat hij kond verzinnen? “Dan gaan we naar… daar!” Anne wees naar links. Ze had geen idee wat daar lag, maar noch de ridder, die blijkbaar Julius heette, noch het dorp was daar. Will keek even bedenkelijk, maar knikte dan. “met wat geluk raken we binnen in de oude boerderij en dan vind hij ons niet. de honden van de boer zullen zijn paard daar wel weghouden.” Anne grijnsde trots, ze kon dan toch nog iets goed doen. “probeer wel zigzaggend te lopen, om je sporen te bedekken,” Will keek haar strak aan, “anders zijn we er geweest.” Anne knikte overtuigend. Al was ze helemaal niet zo zeker of ze dat wel kon, haar sporen bedekken. Will moest dit opgemerkt hebben want hij nam haar hand vast, “volg mijn gewoon, oké? Zorg dat je niet teveel aan takken blijft hangen of afbreekt. Ontwijk modderpoelen.” Ze gaf een kneepje in zijn hand, bewijze van signaal dat ze  het begrepen had. 

Na een halfuurtje stevig door te wandelen zagen ze in de verte eindelijk de boerderij. “het gebouwtje dat wij zoeken staat iets meer naar rechts, je herkent het aan de grote kraai die op de deur geschilderd is.” Anne tuurde in de verte en zag daar inderdaad een vage vorm. Ze vermoedde dat dat de bouwval was. Ze keek in de verte, waar een hoop donkere wolken opeengestapeld zaten. Ze was misschien opgegroeid met weerberichten, maar ze kon ook wel zien dat deze wolken niets goed voorspelden. Ze wees Will erop, en deze versnelde zijn pas alleen maar. “er komt een storm aan, dan is het niet veilig buiten. Het kan ijskoud worden in deze streken.” Hij stak zijn vinger in zijn mond en stak hem in de lucht, “de wind komt uit het zuiden, dus we krijgen al helemaal koude regen. We moeten zorgen dat we snel in de boerderij zijn, of we vriezen dood.” Ze begonnen te rennen en waren net op tijd binnen voor de hemel openbarstte. Te laat zagen ze dat ze helemaal voor niets naar binnen waren gegaan. De hele zuidkant van het gebouw was weggebrand. De regen vloog in Annes gezicht, en hij was, inderdaad, ijskoud. Snel kropen ze in een beschut hoekje, opeengepakt proberende hun lichaamswarmte bij te houden. Maar aangezien ze beiden zomerkleren aanhadden waren ze al snel aan het rillen dat het niet meer om aan te zien was. 

“Will, ik kan niet geloven dat ik dit zeg, maar we moeten terug naar het dorp! Dit houden we niet uit!” Annes stem kwam maar net boven de wind uit, en dat terwijl ze vlak naast de jongen zat. “Annemarie, ik kan niet geloven dat ik dit zeg, maar je hebt gelijk!” ze kwamen moeizaam overeind en liepen naar de deur toe? Wilhelm werd bijna tegen de muur aangeblazen van de sterke wind. Anne opende de deur, waarop deze bijna meteen uit zijn scharnieren vloog, het veld in. Hand in hand renden de kinderen voor hun leven. Ze hadden het geluk dat ze de wind mee hadden, anders zouden ze nooit vooruit zijn geraakt. Na een dik uur gerend te hebben was Anne aan het einde van haar latijn. “Will! Ik kan niet meer!” ze hijgde hevig. Wills enige reactie was een bemoedigend kneepje in haar hand. Hij vertraagde een beetje, haar nog steeds meesleurend. “Als ik goed zit, zijn we er bijna! Je kan het!” en inderdaad, op nog geen vijf meter van de kinderen vandaan zagen ze de eerste huisjes. Het was zo donker dat ze niet eens door hadden gehad dat ze er al bijna waren. Vechtend tegen de kou en de wind gingen ze opzoek naar de kerk. Daar zouden ze onderdak vinden. “daar!” Anne wees naar de lucht. Eerst zag Wilhelm niet waar ze naar wees, maar dan zag hij de kerktoren ook. Met hun laatste krachten renden ze erheen. 

Eenmaal binnen was het akelig stil. Een priester keek de kinderen verbaasd aan. “wat doen jullie buiten in dit weer? Kom, ik zal voor dekens zorgen!” Will snoof, we zochten naar onderdak. Tenzij u een beter adresje weet, natuurlijk. Snel schudde de priester het hoofd en schuifelde weg. 

“wel, wel. Kijk eens aan. Nooit gedacht een dief in een kerk te zien. Of ga je hier ook al stelen?” verschrikt keken de kinderen op. Daar stond de ridder. Koud en nat, met een versleten deken om zich heen gelsagen. “Op dit moment denk ik dat we allemaal uitgeput zijn, en we zijn in een kerk, maar van zodra deze storm voorbij is, zetten we dit voort.” Will knikte, “Ik ben blij dat u dan toch iets van verstand hebt.” De ridder schudde teleurgesteld het hoofd, “ en probeer maar nergens naartoe te gaan, want ik heb de sleutels.” Met deze woorden zwaaide hij met een grote bos vol sleutels, waarvan er eentje wel op de kerkdeuren zou passen. Vermoeid plofte Anne neer; eventjes gaf ze niet meer om de ridder of het feit dat ze straks gearresteerd zouden worden? ze was doodop. Al tanden klapperend sloeg ze haar armen om zich heen. 

“bent u in orde, jonkvrouwe Annemarie?” Anne had enorm veel zin om de ridder te negeren, maar ze wist dat ze dat niet kon doen. Hij was nu eens vriendelijk tegen haar. 

“als ik ee-een deken of iets-ie-iets krijg wel j-ja.” Ze kon bijna niet meer praten, omdat ze zo hard rilde. Bijna meteen nadat ze dat had gezegd stond der ridder op om haar zijn deken te geven. Maar net op dat moment was de priester er weer, met een extra stapeltje dekens binnen geschuifeld kwam. Koud en nat vielen ze in slaap. 

*

De volgende ochtend scheen de zon gelukkig weer, al was dit ook slecht nieuws. Dit betekende dat de vrede tussen de kinderen en de ridder over was. Ze hadden nog maar net de tijd om hun ogen te openen, of de ridder sleurde hen al overeind, de buitenlucht in. “Jullie gaan boeten voor jullie daden! Diefstal is fout!” hij nam Wilhelm, die hevig aan het tegenstribbelen was, vast bij zijn kraag en hield hem zo omhoog. Hierdoor kwam diens vreemde litteken tevoorschijn. De ridder zag het. Verbaasd keek hij er naar, verstijfd als het ware. Voordat de ridder nog iets kon zeggen of doen werd Wilhelm overgenomen van hem en in de boeien geslagen. Ook Anne moest mee. “Wacht!” riep de ridder luid. Iedereen was verbaasd, zo ook de man die net Annes handen bij elkaar wilde binden. “Wat is er, Julius? Je zit al jaren achter dit kind aan, denk je niet dat het tijd is dat hij eindelijk zijn verdiende loon krijgt?” de man die de geboeide Will vasthield wist niet goed wat hij nu moest doen, en Wilhelm maakte hier gebruikt van. Hij begon enorm tegen te stribbelen en raakte eventjes vrij uit de greep van de man. Maar Julius had hem al gauw weet te pakken. “Inderdaad, sorry, Berend. Neem hem maar mee.”

In de chaos had niemand door dat Anne verdwenen was.

Ergens in de smalste straten van het dorp rende ze voor haar leven, vrij letterlijk. Ze wist dat ze terug moest gaan voor Wilhelm, maar op dit moment kon ze alleen maar aan zichzelf denken. Bovendien, ze zouden hem niet direct vermoorden, toch? Met die gedachte stelde ze zichzelf heel de tijd gerust. ‘er moet eerst een rechtszaak komen, word kalm, Anne’ ze hoorde hoe de menigte door de hoofdstraat liep, waarschijnlijk onderweg naar het huis van de dorpsleider. Ze had eens in een boek gelezen dat mensen daar vast werden gehouden tot hun proces bij gebrek aan een gevangenis. Of kerker. 

Verdwaasd werd Anne wakker in het gras. Naast haar lag haar doorweekte boek. Vreemd genoeg was er geen tijd verstreken in deze wereld. Zo snel als ze kon rende ze naar huis. Het boek moest drogen. Ze moest weten hoe het afliep voor Wilhelm en Ridder Julius. Hoewel het maar enkele straten was tot haar huis, leek het eindeloos te duren. Wanneer ze eindelijk thuis was rukte ze de kast open, niet eens de moeite doende om haar schoenen uit te doen. Ze nam de haardroger en zette hem op de hoogste stand. Ze legde het boek op de verwarming en zette deze op het hoogste. Haar moeder kwam verbaasd binnen. “Anne? Wat is dit?” een steek van pijn joeg door haar hart. Nu was ze weer Anne. Niet langer Annemarie. “Mijn boek, het moet drogen!” ze voelde de tranen in haar ogen komen, even wou ze haar tranen nog wegvegen, maar ze liet ze gaan. Als er iets was dat ze geleerd had was dat het oké is om te lezen en te huilen. Het is een teken dat je gevoelens en kennis hebt. Een zeer waardevolle combinatie. De pagina’s waren eindelijk droog. Ze bladerde naar het einde en las: 

Wilhelm keek de grote ridder aan. Het was duidelijk dat hij enorm veel respect had voor deze man. De ridder had zijn hele leven overhoop gegooid om hem te redden. Hoewel hij zijn vrije leventje zou missen was dit misschien wel voor het beste. Hoewel hij ergens een steek van droefenis voelde glimlachte hij. Dit was zijn echte thuis. De ridder zat voor het haardvuur een boek te lezen, en wenkte de Wilhelm. “Ik zal je leren lezen en schrijven, dan kan je later als schrijver werken. De jongen glimlachte zwakjes, denkende aan een vriendin die hij eens had gehad. Hij plofte naast de ridder en schoof dichterbij. En ieder oplettend oog zou gezien hebben hoe de twee enorm hard op elkaar leken. Zo leerden vader en zoon elkaar wat ze wisten terwijl ze ontdekten wie de ander was. Anne deed het boek met een glimlach dicht. Dus ze had gelijk gehad, Julius was Wilhelms vader. En eindelijk waren ze weer samen. Ze drukte het boek tegen haar buik en begon hevig te wenen. De tranen stroomden als watervallen. Ze ging Wilhelm en Julius missen. Ze waren als familie geworden. Maar van zodra ze haar mama’s warme armen rond zich voelde wist ze dat ze hier ook een familie had.  

[yuuminni]

diamant's special class having access to S sword is such bait considering he does best at being an axe boy. great build growth AND decent speed growth AND a personal that gives him +15 hit on player phase which is extremely good for axes since axes by nature have low hit rate... whats not to like. doubling with tomahawk is very nice and its just not worth it to weigh kagetsu down with it, and panette is glued to her lyn engraved killer axe

[periwinklemoonlight]

little sunshine ⋆ boatem knights au

my second short story set in bee @applestruda 's boatem knights au and canon to the plot written by zera @hopepetal !! also make sure to check out bee's bkau gem and etho designs <3 !

cw: decapitation, murder, blood

if you prefer, you can read it on ao3!

⋆⋆⋆

“-And you’re sure this is the man responsible?” The room was spacious, more than big enough for hundreds to fit in, yet the tension in the air filled it with an undeniably claustrophobic atmosphere. Precious artefacts lined the walls and occupied the floors, meticulously positioned in a perfect pattern to suit the path of a would-be museum goer. Now, however, one was missing. And only the most ancient and irreplaceable of the lot, of course.

“Completely.” An odd chill ran up the spine of the curator as she spoke. It shouldn’t have been possible, she thought, she had barely taken her eyes off of that corner of the room for a second before the amulet had vanished into thin air. All she had caught a glimpse of in the aftermath, she was sure of, was a man with stark white hair and a mask darker than the deepest night sky, fleeing the scene with a swiftness she could only ascribe to a seasoned thief.

She had only ever seen that man once before, yet something in her gut was absolutely sure it was him. A few years back, she had stayed at an inn just out of town on a business trip. Her stay had been all-around pleasant, the owner undoubtedly a delight to talk to, full of cheerful stories and helpful advice for travel. The same couldn't've been said for their companion, however. 

He had brooded in the corner of the inn, shooting her occasional unreadable glances as she conversed with the owner, any emotion beyond ice cold eyes concealed by a mask of blackest night. His back to the wall, practically blending in with the shadows around him, she had nearly cancelled her stay the minute she spotted him. 

The only thing that had convinced her to stay despite her better judgement was the owner’s utmost insistence that that man was nothing to fear, that she’d be completely and utterly safe at the inn. Something in their tone had been so, so earnest, she couldn’t help but be inclined to believe them. They were right, she had been entirely safe after all, yet she never could quite shake the cold chill that permeated her body every time the man passed her by. 

“Then it seems we’ve got a bounty on our hands.” The guard concluded with a severe nod.

“Bounty, you say?” A cheery voice asked from across the room. The curator whipped her head around to watch as polished hooves clicked onto the museum flooring. 

“How did you-?” The curator asked, before cutting herself off to fully take in the person before her. There stood Gemini Tay, adorned in finely crafted emerald silks and lightweight armour, wild red hair expertly contained in a sweeping braid, and absolutely armed to the teeth in various weapons hanging lazily across her waist. It wasn’t a bad look for the most notorious bounty hunter in the land, all things considered.

“Word gets around,” Gem replied with a grin, absentmindedly twirling an intricately carved knife in her hand as she approached. “And I’m always down to lend a helping hand!”

She paused, then eyed the curator’s own ostentatious outfit. “...For a fair price, of course.”

“Of course,” The curator repeated, a keen smile worming its way to her face. 

⋆⋆⋆

If there was one thing she relished in being known for, it was that once she had her target in her sights, Gem wasted no time.

It wasn’t hard to spot him, after all. The description the curator had given her was one of the most interesting she’d gotten in a while. A man known only as “Etho”, with a harsh red scar blinding him in one eye and never once seen without a dark mask obscuring half his face. During her journey, Gem had learned that nobody in the area could quite recall when he’d started working at the inn, or even if he actually worked there at all. In fact, it was a popular local rumour that the man was simply a vagrant that the kind innkeeper had taken pity on during one particularly frigid winter and never thought to kick out afterwards.

Regardless of whatever his backstory might have been, Gem couldn’t really care less. All she really cared to know about him was that he was the only thing standing between her and a ludicrously lavish payout. 

It was only a lucky coincidence that the innkeeper wasn’t in when she arrived. There was her target, standing far too nonchalantly behind the counter and looking as if he was preparing to greet her. She wasn’t about to give him the chance. Instantly she swung at him, hard and fast, looking to get a clean kill. To her astonishment, however, he suddenly disappeared within a blink of an eye, reappearing once more just as fast and now on top of the counter. Gem watched as a dark, smoky substance wafted off him as he jumped down and dissipated as quickly as it appeared. 

When she looked at Etho now, it was as if he were slightly transparent, blurred at the edges. She blinked, and he was whole again, no trace of anything amiss. She growled and swung again with impossible force, heaving as her sword broke the floorboards where it landed. Again, she could have sworn that some dark substance was following him, aiding him in his escape. 

“Hey, hey! I don’t know what I did but, uh, I’m sure we can settle this some other way?” Etho offered as he slid backwards on the wooden floors like they were an ice rink, smoke trailing off him and weaving through the air. 

“No can do sir!” Gem replied as she swung once more, again missing him by a fraction of a centimetre. “You got a hefty bounty on your head, and I intend to take it!”

The fight escalated with Gem’s frustration. She spun herself around and leaped at Etho, sword high in the air and aiming to plunge it deep into his skull. Instead, she hit the inn’s counter, splitting the wood and knocking several small objects astray. Her hooves skidded against the floor as she reeled backwards, and wasted no time forcefully wrenching her sword free. 

Wood chippings now scattered across the floor, Gem paid them no mind in her pursuit. The action seemed to distract Etho somewhat, discontent flashing across his heterochromatic eyes, and she took the opportunity to strike. 

Finally, with a lucky stab, she managed to pin him down against the inn’s wall, plunging her sword into his shoulder with a devastating crack and watching as what must have been blood seeped out from it. He gasped, eyes darting to the wound. A wild grin found its way to Gem’s face.

“You’re a tricky one, aren’t you?” She asked, using the moment to catch her breath before unsheathing a second, smaller sword from around her waist. The sharp blade glinted in the deep, warm light of the inn. The reflection didn’t make it to Etho’s eyes. “Shame I’m gonna have to take you out like all the rest of ‘em. I’ll make it quick, though. You’ve earned it.”

It was odd, she thought briefly. Despite the sword driven straight through him, he didn’t appear to actually really care about it all that much. His breathing was as steady as ever, and he barely moved at all beside a futile effort to scoot away from her intense gaze. His eyes were calm, watching her every move in something almost akin to silent fascination rather than the fear she had grown accustomed to. No matter, though, Gem decided as she made clean work of him, lopping off his head in a single swing. 

It fell to the ground with a solid thunk, rolling slightly before making its stop like any old head should. A tenseness she didn’t know she was holding finally released, and she breathed again. Blood was splattered all over the inn’s floors, and she grit her teeth as she imagined the cut from her paycheck she’d have to give the keeper to get it cleaned. All this for some measly priceless artefact? Still, it was over. 

She picked up his head by the hair, and stepped back in shock as she felt just how cold it was. Instantly, it called to mind the way it felt to grab a fistful of snow with no gloves for the first time, fingertips fully immersed in the unadulterated icy chill. For a brief moment, it reminded her of… home. Gem had never considered herself the squeamish type, especially not with an occupation such as hers, but the realization gripping hold of her in that split second was enough to make her gag.

Her grip on his hair loosened for a second, but she caught herself before the head could drop. On a second examination, she noticed what looked like snowflakes scattered in his white hair and decorating his long eyelashes. It was then she finally heard the faint crackling sound that had been slowly spreading around her. The blood that had been flowing freely from Etho’s body was freezing up, and fast.

Gem could do nothing but watch in horror as the blood on the walls and floor turned to thick ice, cracking and shattering into pieces around her as soon as it solidified. Within no time it had spread to his severed head, and she gasped as the blood that still dripped from his neck froze midair and fell to the floor, fragmenting into dozens of tiny pieces. 

She broke her gaze from the head in her hands just long enough to witness a mountain of ice emerge from what remained of his body’s neck, accompanied by a low hissing noise that made her stomach churn. Gem realized then the shape that it was forming. Fractals of ice packed in and around each other, working in tandem to sculpt out a new head identical to the one in her hands. The only difference being, there was nothing to cover the lower half of his face. If she could even call that half a face.

Once the hissing had stopped, that same dark substance she had seen swirl around him in their fight began to seep out from the wound, covering the newly formed head in a thin black layer and obscuring his features. Her heart dropped as she watched the shadowy liquid be absorbed into the ice, revealing a brand new head on Etho’s shoulders, indistinguishable from the first and complete with a new mask. His eyes fluttered open. 

“That wasn’t very nice of you, now was it?” Etho asked as he turned his head to look over at her, an amused smile painting his voice. Gem screamed.

⋆⋆⋆

Gem had never fainted before. With the amount of blood and guts she spilled with a smile on a daily basis, she hadn’t thought it was even possible for someone like her. Evidently, though, everyone had their limits. 

More confusingly, though, was that she had awoken tucked nice and neatly in a warm bed, with at least a dozen pillows cushioning her head and antlers. With a slight turn of her head, she could see a still-warm cup of cocoa resting on the table next to her and causing a sweet scent to waft through the little room she now found herself in. 

She groaned, sitting herself up in the bed and trailing her hand up her forehead, where she could feel a piece of gauze sticking out. Another glance around her surroundings revealed that her weapons were nowhere to be seen. Gem cursed under her breath. 

Her eyes darted around the room. It was quaint, with wooden walls and flooring and a decorative carpet in the center. Faint light streamed in through a window, accompanied by the warm glow of a candle. Must be early morning, she thought. 

Oddly though, the corner across from her seemed to be completely wrapped in shadow, defying the soft sunlight that should have illuminated it. Gem found herself unable to tear her trembling eyes away as the shadowy corner suddenly warped in her vision, the dark matter collecting and solidifying together as a familiar figure materialized before her. 

Etho drifted nonchalantly towards her, stopping by the table to eye the mug, something almost disappointed flashing in his expression as he noticed it hadn’t been touched. Gem faintly spotted a stitch in the shoulder of his tunic. He turned his attention to her.

“How’re ya’ holding up?" He asked, his tone both concerned and casual at once. “You took a pretty nasty fall back there! Never seen anything like it, it was crazy.” A small laugh punctuated his last sentence.

She blinked, then blinked again, but found herself unable to erase the image of what she had just seen from behind her eyes. It was the kick she needed to jog her memory though, and she leaped backwards away from him, nearly hitting her head on the wall behind her. 

“You… What in void’s name are you!?” She squawked. Etho furrowed his frosted eyebrows quizzically. 

“Well, I was hoping maybe you’d be a little bit more appreciative of the setup you’ve got going on here. I even made you a hot cocoa! Iskall told me you guys love that stuff!” There was something genuine in his voice that made Gem calm somewhat, even if his words only added to her bewilderment. She turned back to look at the mug, and slowly reached a hand out to grab it.

Pulling it close to her chest, she spoke, “You made this? For me? Why? I tried to kill you! I did kill you! At least, I think? I’m… still not entirely sure what happened back there.” She stared down into the mug, feeling a weird sense of shame bubble through her. Having the man she’d killed standing right there in front of her, it felt like talking to a ghost. The bounty hunter wasn’t used to having to think about the aftermath of her career beyond what minor property damage could ensue from a struggle, nevermind like this. Her grip on the handle tightened.

“What, this old thing?” Etho asked with another laugh, pulling up his own severed head from the ground next to Gem’s bed. “I left it here for you, since you seemed to really be after it. Figured it could make a nice souvenir from your stay here, you know?” Etho seemed to pick up from Gem’s appalled expression that she did not, in fact, know. 

“Okay, okay, uh, well, you can take it with you when you leave if you want.” A pause. “This… is what you’re after, right?” Gem could make out tiny frozen droplets still connected to the head’s neck, suspended in time and ice. Momentarily, she considered being alarmed at the notion that she’d been sleeping soundly next to a severed head, or grilling him on why exactly he thought putting said head in her room was a normal thing to do in the slightest. The thumping pain rattling around in her skull made the decision for her.

“Partially,” she replied curtly, evidently still attempting to win her staring contest with the mug. Finally, she broke the one-sided tension, and dared to take a small sip. 

It tasted… cold? No, that wasn't right. The liquid was sweet, if a little watery, and at a comfortably warm temperature. It was more as if the ethos of the mug itself refused to be hot. Like it had reluctantly taken to the liquid, yet refused to be any more than a temporary vessel for its warmth. Or, perhaps even more strangely, as if the liquid itself wasn't quite sure it knew how to be warm. 

Despite Gem’s own lukewarm reaction, Etho lit up. 

“Do you like it?” he asked, his normally chill and steady voice brightening with excitement. An amused look found its way to Gem’s face at the sudden change. 

“It’s nice,” she replied simply. She took another sip, then paused to close her eyes. She swore she could hear a triumphant noise from beside her as she tried to calm her searing nerves. Having the head as proof was good, sure, but the curator had expected — and promised payment for — much more. Gem needed that artefact back. She turned back to face him.

“To be honest, Etho,” She began, “Your head’s not all I’m here for. You don’t just get a bounty on your head for nothing, you know. I’m also here to retrieve that artefact you stole.” 

Etho blinked. “The what?”

Now it was Gem’s turn to furrow her brow. 

“You know. The amulet of the ancient Sun people? The last surviving of its kind? You took it from a museum just a few days ago.” She tilted her head, not even trying to hide her bafflement. Etho squinted at her. He tapped his fingers on the nightstand beside him thoughtfully.

“Ancient amulet… ancient amulet…” He mused. “Oh! Is that what that shiny gold necklace was? It was just lying around on a shelf at that ‘museum’ place Iskall took me to! I don’t know why nobody else thought to take it, to be honest. Here, check it out!” He tugged at something unseen underneath his mask for a minute, before producing the very artefact Gem had been seeking. He handed it to her casually as her shaky hands returned the mug to its nightstand. 

“You’ve been wearing it this whole time!?” She exclaimed, yelping when the item made contact with her skin and reeling backwards at the sudden burst of heat running through her fingertips. 

“Ah, yeah.” He didn’t appear too upset at its departure, though Gem couldn't help but notice his lively attitude had faded somewhat. She brushed her thumb over the deep amber pendant, briefly fascinated by the perpetual heat emanating off of it. 

“It’s neat, right? I’ve never seen a necklace like it. I wasn’t planning on taking it, at first, but I really wanted to figure out why it made my fingers melt like that.”

“You really are something,” Gem muttered. “But, I’m afraid I’ll have to take this back. A job’s a job.”

He gave her a nod. “Yep, yep, fine by me. Is that all you need?”

“Oh, I have one more thing, actually,” Gem replied, tucking the amulet away safely.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I want my weapons back.”

⋆⋆⋆

The curator grinned and clasped her hands together as she spotted Gem, a full-looking satchel and small brown bag now decorating her waist alongside her clanking swords and knives. The bounty hunter approached her desk with a matching smile, untying the smaller bag and placing it before the curator.

“I see you’ve returned! Remarkably fast as well. This is?”

“The amulet, back safe and sound without a scratch. Very pretty, might I add. Anyone would be able to see why it’s the prized jewel of your exhibit. And why a rotten thief would want to take it.” Gem placed the satchel next to it.

“And this…?”

“That deplorable thief’s head, just as you asked. I can assure you, he won’t be any more trouble for you now.”

“Excellent. Then, I believe you are deserving of your reward.”

“Yes,” Gem repeated. “Excellent.”

[theplotmage]

Basics of Starting a Murder Mystery

1. Victim

Description: Identify who the victim is. Provide background information and context for why their murder is significant.

Fantasy Adaptation: The victim could be a mystical creature, a royal figure, or a powerful sorcerer. The murder might involve magical elements or rare artifacts.

2. Setting

Description: Decide on the location where the murder takes place. This could be a mansion, a small town, a secluded island, etc.

Fantasy Adaptation: The setting could be an enchanted forest, a mystical kingdom, a hidden temple, or a floating city. Incorporate fantastical elements like magical barriers, ancient curses, or secret portals.

3. Detective/Protagonist

Description: Introduce the character who will be solving the murder. They could be a private detective, a journalist, or an amateur sleuth.

Fantasy Adaptation: The protagonist could be a magical investigator, a rogue thief, a wizard, or a knight. They might use spells, enchanted artifacts, or mythical creatures to aid in their investigation.

4. Suspects

Description: Develop a list of suspects, each with motives, opportunities, and secrets. Provide clues that point to different characters to keep the reader guessing.

Fantasy Adaptation: Suspects could include elves, dwarves, sorcerers, enchanted beings, or even gods. Their motives might involve ancient feuds, magical artifacts, or prophecies.

5. Clues and Red Herrings

Description: Plant clues throughout the story that lead the protagonist toward the truth. Include red herrings to mislead the reader and maintain suspense.

Fantasy Adaptation: Clues could be magical runes, ancient tomes, enchanted objects, or cryptic prophecies. Red herrings might involve false spells, illusions, or shape-shifting creatures.

6. Plot Twists

Description: Incorporate unexpected twists to keep the plot engaging. These should be surprising yet plausible within the story’s context.

Fantasy Adaptation: Twists might include hidden identities, secret magical abilities, betrayals by trusted allies, or revelations of ancient curses or prophecies.

7. Resolution

Description: Conclude the mystery by revealing the murderer and explaining their motives and methods. Tie up loose ends and provide closure for the characters and the reader.

Fantasy Adaptation: The resolution might involve a magical battle, a ritual to break a curse, or the revelation of a long-forgotten prophecy. The protagonist could use their unique abilities to bring the murderer to justice.

Applying the Framework to Different Genres:

High Fantasy: Set in a fully imagined world with its own rules of magic. The mystery might involve ancient prophecies, mythical creatures, and epic quests.

Urban Fantasy: Combine the mystery with a modern city setting that has hidden magical elements. The detective could be a supernatural being living among humans.

Dark Fantasy: Infuse the story with horror elements. The murder could involve dark magic, necromancy, or demonic entities.

Historical Fantasy: Blend historical settings with magical elements. The mystery might revolve around historical events altered by magic.

Steampunk Fantasy: Set in an alternate Victorian era with steam-powered technology and fantastical inventions. The detective could use gadgets and alchemy in their investigation

Common Plot Holes in Murder Mysteries and Suggestions on How to Avoid Them:

1. Unbelievable Motives

Plot Hole: The killer’s motive is weak, unconvincing, or unrealistic.

Solution: Develop deep, believable backstories for your characters. Ensure the motive aligns with their personality and history. Motives can range from jealousy, revenge, and fear to financial gain or protecting a loved one.

2. Convenient Evidence

Plot Hole: Evidence appears too conveniently to help the protagonist solve the mystery.

Solution: Introduce evidence gradually and logically. Ensure it’s discovered through the protagonist’s efforts and fits naturally into the narrative. The protagonist should work to uncover clues, facing challenges and setbacks.

3. Ignoring the Obvious

Plot Hole: Characters overlook obvious clues or suspects for no logical reason.

Solution: If clues are ignored, provide a plausible reason. Maybe the obvious suspect has a strong alibi or the clue is misinterpreted. The protagonist should follow logical steps and acknowledge obvious leads, even if they turn out to be red herrings.

4. Inconsistent Character Behavior

Plot Hole: Characters act out of character to serve the plot.

Solution: Ensure all actions align with established character traits and motivations. If a character needs to act unusually, provide a strong, believable reason for their behavior.

5. Unrealistic Technology/Forensics

Plot Hole: The story uses unrealistic or overly convenient technological or forensic solutions.

Solution: Research the technology or forensic methods you’re including. Use realistic, credible techniques and avoid relying too heavily on high-tech solutions. In a fantasy setting, establish clear rules for how magic or other fantastical elements work and stay consistent with them.

6. Lack of Consequences

Plot Hole: Characters face no real consequences for their actions, diminishing tension and realism.

Solution: Ensure actions have appropriate consequences. If a character takes a risk, there should be potential fallout. This adds realism and stakes to the narrative.

7. Coincidences Driving the Plot

Plot Hole: The plot relies on coincidences rather than character actions and decisions.

Solution: Focus on causality. Events should result from characters’ decisions and actions. Minimize coincidences and ensure the protagonist’s efforts are central to solving the mystery.

8. Underdeveloped Antagonist

Plot Hole: The killer or antagonist is underdeveloped, making their actions and motivations unclear or uninteresting.

Solution: Flesh out the antagonist’s character. Provide a detailed backstory, clear motivations, and a strong presence in the story. The antagonist should be a formidable and complex character, challenging the protagonist.

9. Excessive Red Herrings

Plot Hole: Too many misleading clues confuse rather than intrigue the reader.

Solution: Use red herrings sparingly and strategically. Each should serve to develop the plot or characters further. Balance red herrings with genuine clues to maintain a coherent and engaging narrative.

10. Unclear Resolution

Plot Hole: The resolution is unclear or unsatisfying, leaving questions unanswered.

Solution: Ensure the resolution ties up all major plot points and answers key questions. The revelation of the murderer should be logical and satisfying, with all clues making sense in retrospect.

How to Apply These Solutions in Different Genres:

Fantasy: Make sure magical motives are deeply rooted in the world’s lore. Use consistent magical rules and avoid deus ex machina resolutions. Character actions should have magical and real-world consequences.

Sci-Fi: Ensure futuristic technology and forensic methods are plausible within the story’s context. Character behavior should align with the setting’s norms and technologies.

Historical: Research the historical period to ensure accuracy. Character motivations should align with historical contexts and norms, and forensic methods should be era-appropriate.

Thriller: Heighten consequences and stakes. Character actions should drive the plot, with minimal reliance on coincidences. Develop a strong, believable antagonist.

[crypticdesire]

cw: mild possessiveness, implied murder

yandere!knight who grew up inside the castle walls and found themselves always watching the child of the king. they were taught that their training was necessary to protect the royal family, so why wouldn’t they develop an interest in you? knowing details about you was the best way to protect you, so they slowly became obsessed with observing you from an appropriate distance. 

yandere!knight who finally became directly assigned to guard you when you're both adults. there was another knight being considered, but they were unfortunately killed by a thief during a trip to a nearby town. they were more suitable for the job anyway, understanding the needs of the royal heir more than any other knight, surely. who would be more attentive than them? 

yandere!knight who notices that you’ve become more curious about what lies outside the castle walls, overhearing your persistent questions directed at your parents, tutor, and other palace staff. they wonder why you’ve never directed one of your questions towards them. they probably wouldn’t have the answers you were looking for, growing up within the castle’s walls themselves, but they yearned for you to speak more than a few passing words to them. to look into their eyes and see how deeply they cared for you. to see how dedicated they were to serving you. to see how eagerly they would fulfill any of your requests. they wanted to know you felt comforted by their presence in the same way they were comforted by yours.

yandere!knight who becomes desperate enough to bridge the gap between you two that they offer to sneak you into town one night. the excitement that flashes onto your face creates a feeling within them akin to drinking a sip of cool water after going without it for days. that sip turns into a long chug when your hands finally touch, their skin making contact with your skin, as they help you onto the horse that will take you from the stables to the outskirts of the town. now that they’ve felt your hands on their waist, the normal distance placed between you feels too far. surely this feeling means they are destined to always be by your side, right?

yandere!knight who feels drunk on your laughter as they sit with you in a local tavern. a cloak hides most of your face, but your face would be recognized by few anyway with the only commoners to know your appearance being those that work in the palace. they’re sure they are in a dream when you grasp their hand pulling them with you to join the group of lively impromptu people dancing. they can’t help but think how they are the reason for your bright eyes and wide smile. it confirms that no one could know you better than they do. no one could tend to your needs better than they could. 

yandere!knight who wished they didn’t have to sneak you back into your room to have a wall separating you once again. but the giddiness of growing closer to you would linger, making them determined to take you into town again. the trips into town would be a secret they shared with you, which is why they couldn’t ignore the eyes that saw you two walking back from the stables to the castle. surely, one of the insignificant grounds keepers wouldn’t think that the knight tasked with protecting the royal heir wouldn’t notice their presence. the grounds keeper was predictably naive, being easily found alone in the stables. to ensure you could sneak into town again, they couldn’t risk someone exposing your secret. threatening your happiness. ruining the knight’s chances of being someone you relied on for protection and happiness. the grounds keeper should be happy to be given the opportunity to serve the royal family even after death as fertilizer for their expansive garden. they couldn’t pose any threat then. washing the blood off their hands a couple hours later, they wondered if the sight of them would cause you to be appalled or pleased by the evidence of their deep devotion to you. one couldn’t ask for a more dedicated knight, right?

" i'm not leaving. my life has been dedicated to serving you, so please use me "

you can check out the other yandere characters i'm developing in my pinned post !

[2-dsimp]

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Yandere spin-offs (wip)

Introducing the Hero

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(Fem! Reader)

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Synopsis: Featuring the Yandere Hero who happened to coincidentally save you from a potential robbery and became infatuated with you once he discovered that you knew of his true nature.

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Adonis was a hero known by the public as the chivalrous Sunset Knight who protected the people and also kept the evildoers in line with his immense power. But that couldn’t be any further from the truth, as the Sunset Knight was nothing but a sadistic murderer pretending to be an enforcer of justice.

He would frequently use excessive amounts of force when apprehending criminals no matter if the crime being committed was petty or severe all his victims would equally suffer underneath the brutality of his hands that always itches to inflict pain. Almost like a coping mechanism to keep his innermost darkest desires for destruction at bay.

One day when Adonis was off duty in his civilian persona dressed casual with his platinum blonde wavy hair that was covering his eyes. As he happened to walk by and witness a woman getting assaulted by some ruffians looking for a quick buck. He was tempted to ignore the situation entirely as it didn’t concern him one bit. But who was he to turn down a chance to let off some steam by beating some stupid idiots half to death without any consequences since it’ll fall under the category of self defense.

Trying to conceal the bloodlust leaking from his pores he made an effort to appear like the usual outstanding smararian who risked his safety to protect a typical damsel in distress. Before administering some good hands on “disciplinary action” on the poor unfortunate souls who happened to try and mug you.

Suddenly the sound of a picture being taken made him snap out of his tunnel vision haze in a brief moment of shock. And his golden slited pupils roamed the area spotting you with a camera that was pointed at him while he was covered in splotches of the dirty blood of the offenders. But before he could say a single word he saw you vanish like a thief in the night.

This was the first time that Adonis was genuinely at a lost of what to do. Sure he could’ve killed her but that would’ve been too suspicious should a certain detective happen to connect the dots.

Even though he had been spotted indulging in his destructive impluses he was in his civilian persona. So he pondered what exactly that woman was trying to accomplish by taking a picture of a mere stranger who had happened to step in for her when she was in danger.

Until it clicked within his head that somehow she knew who he really was. As her movements were too fluid to be recognized as an mere amateur taking pictures for shits and giggles. Which must mean that the woman he saved had been keeping an eye on his actions for a long period of time.

‘She knows…’

He thought to himself his bloodied hands covering the bottom half of his face in surprise and a certain degree of respect for the boldness this woman he encountered seemed to possess.

‘She knows how I really am and yet she still chooses to stick close to me?’

He couldn’t help but let out a full blown fit of mad laughter at his discovery.

“What a farce haha! I can’t tell if she’s stupid or just doesn’t have a shred of self preservation”

He cackled, before taking a moment to calm his mind wiping off the flecks off blood of his handsome face with their arm sleeve the hero made himself look presentable.

The hero was determined to have fun with his new recent obsession…You

————

The Sunset Knight was patrolling the streets wearing his signature knight helmet while the rest of his body was adorned in flexible loose clothing. Leaping from roof to roof he happens to spot a supervillain mutant terrorizing the citizens demanding them to give him back his brethren or else he’d kill them all.

A pretty bland demand as per usual done by petty villains so without breaking a sweat Adonis drop kicked the octopus mutant who was holding multiple hostages within their tentacles one of which happened to be a certain woman that he had been actively searching for ever since their first encounter.

He couldn’t believe his luck as he disregarded all the other hostages that would’ve all probably fell to their potential deaths if not thanks to the minor heros who appeared on the scene right after he knocked out the criminal as the only one he cared about was you.

The Hero swiftly caught you within his arms and couldn’t help the deranged grin that spreader across his face as he finally had the object of his curiosity trapped wriggling defiantly against him in his arms. Which indicated that his hunches were correct, licking his lips like a predator as he looked down at you from behind his helmet.

He couldn’t help but get excited.

Oh how he couldn’t wait to get you home.

[rathayibacter]

Rath's TTRPG Post!

Hey yall, been long enough that I should really write another of these. I'm Rath and I make weird tabletop games! I've got a lot of games already out there, and even more in the oven, so this post exists to help organize them all and give you a jumping-off point if you want to check out my work. Without further ado,

[BXLLET>

BXLLET is a post-apocalyptic cowboy game about the nature of violence. It hands players incredibly lethal characters, then asks those characters to try and find their way in the world. If all you have is a hammer, how do you stop seeking nails?

Every BXLLET character begins with a single bullet on their person, and can always spend a bullet to kill someone. Collecting more bullets unlocks your archetype's unique powers, making you an increasingly imposing threat—and juicy target. However, even as you become bloated with potential violence, you'll find plenty of problems escape easy solutions. Sure, you can always kill, but can you cut out the rot that runs deeper than any individual bandit, warlord, or capitalist? In a world fighting to rebuild itself from disaster, are you a wandering hero, or just a murderous tool of the old age? Can you help build a better future, or are you doomed to haunt its outskirts?

Thanks to two game jams and a whole lot of love, BXLLET also has a ton of additional modules, spilling over with scenarios, archetypes, factions, mechanics, and alternate settings. Here's a big list of them! Check them out, they're fucking incredible.

KATABASIS

KATABASIS is a tactical combat afterlife-crawl, where spirits fight using weapons and armor made of their emotional baggage to try and escape a surreal concrete afterlife. It's all about putting together strange builds to face off against bizarre monsters, all while meeting other stranded spirits and exploring the tangled world you're trapped in. If you delve deep enough, fight hard enough, maybe one day you can find a way to return to life.

KATABASIS is a work in progress, with the full game still a ways off. I'm currently working on the next update, The Highway Down, where players will fight their way across perilous highways tangled through a hanging city. Even so, the game's already packed with characters, equipment, monsters, and maps.

So go! Gather your painful memories, bare your petrified heart, kill the psychopomps and shatter the gates of hell. There might be no escape, but we'd rather die a thousand times more than give up looking.

Disparateum

Disparateum welcomes you to the Named City, a place at the edge of our world and the center of all others. Residents of the Named City wander across the full spectrum of possible worlds, visiting them as one might visit another neighborhood. Like KATABASIS, it's also a work in progress, but already contains pound-for-pound more raw ideas than anything I've ever written. It's a dense, strange, silly, and colorful game, and a gushing love letter to roleplaying in general.

Disparateum is a game for a Knight, a Thief, and a Seer, who explore the Named City in search of adventure and change. Here, shared dreams settle over the city at night; here, our reflections plot revenge from the opposite side of every mirror; here, dragons hold court to debate ownership of stories; here, museum corridors tangle their way through the past and into other histories; here, spiders weave a network of WiFi connections and host dense egg sacs of websites; here, sprawling statue gardens grow beneath our souls. Welcome to the Disparateum. Enjoy your stay.

Unskilled Labor

Unskilled Labor is a game about struggling to get by in the rotting corpse of capitalism. But this time, you have superpowers!

Unfortunately, the superpowers will not let you steal back the time you wasted in dead-end jobs, nor will they let you topple the system and fix everything singlehandedly. But, hey, did you really expect them to? The work to make a better world remains to be done, and maybe now it'll be slightly easier. Manifest a customer service persona to fight your friends' landlord, use perfect timing to escape the cops, coordinate supernaturally disruptive protests of an oil pipeline. Play using resumes as character sheets and calendars as battlemaps. Manage your well-being (as much as you're able), struggle against the tides of Western society, and spit in the face of authority. It's not a glamorous power fantasy, but hopefully it reminds you not to give up the fight.

Charcuterie

Charcuterie is a series of zines, each about 40 pages long, collecting various little experimental games, writings, and doodles. The first two have five ttrpgs each, four being updated versions of games I'd previously released and the fifth being exclusive to the zine. The third is instead a collection of poetry and short stories, though I'd be lying if I said there wasn't a streak of game design through it all anyway.

IMMORTAL Pop!bat 2: funK.O. (Definitive Edition)

Have you ever wanted a miniatures wargame with thirteen thousand seven hundred and ninety-nine unique statblocks? Have you ever wanted to microwave your friend's limited edition metallic blue Batman Funko Pop, but lacked the game mechanical justification to do so? Have you ever wanted to waste an entire paycheck on a terrible idea? IMMORTAL Pop!bat 2: funK.O. (Definitive Edition) has you covered. With two pages of rules and sixteen hundred pages of Pop!batants, with IP!b2:fK.O.(DE) you'll be making terrible life choices in no time.

Stationkeeping

In Stationkeeping, you've inherited a run-down satellite from your late aunt. Slowly you'll patch it up, add new rooms, and fill it with memories. The game's contained entirely on a small stack of handwritten index cards which you can carry around with you, slowly progressing the game by going out of your way to enjoy the little things in your day-to-day life.

And More!

I've got even more stuff over on itch, and I sneak occasional glimpses at my current projects into the #ttrpgs tag here on tumblr. Keep your eyes peeled!

And of course, I'm always happy to chat. If you're ever curious about something I've made or am making, if you enjoyed something or had thoughts on it, if you just wanna say hi, please reach out! Games are my passion, and I love nothing more than to talk with other passionate people. Until then, I'm signing off!

[indelibleme]

Detective Conan | Magic Kaito Fic Recs

I've realised I write consistently for only one fandom at any given time (DCMK lol), so here are some of my (completed!) works that I'm quite proud of! (Titles in order of posting, newest to oldest)

Yōkai? Ryōkai! : Chps 1/1. 12k words. KaiShin. Shinichi and Kaito finding a place with each other while solving a yokai murder mystery. (Written for the DCMK Secret Santa Event 2023!)

All Things Bright And Beautiful : Chps 1/1. 15k words. KaiShin. In which Prince Kaito and enemy Knight Kudo Shinichi really have no business falling in love, stuck on the brink of a political firestorm, but they do so anyway. Enemies to friends to lovers. (Written for the DCMK Secret Santa Event 2022, rated E)

Wilting Beauty, Blooming Nightshade: Chps 7/7. 22k words. KaiShin. Hanahaki AU! Kaito has been pining for nearly 5 years now, as the flowers he coughs out reminds him. Caught in a murder mystery on a cruise liner, he has (probably) his last chance to confess his feelings. (Written for the KaiShin Reverse Bang 2022.)

Includes 4 gorgeous pieces of coloured artwork and 5 sketches by my artist partner of the event @rux363

Two Is Company : Chp 1/1. 2k words. KaiShin. Post-canon slice of life, where Kaito and Shinichi meet as professors in a university.

The Ace Up Your Sleeve: Chps 7/7. 16k words. KaiShin. Post-canon. Kaito attempts to play detective when a case involving a BO member surfaces after years of inactivity. And the enemy is not who he expected at all. (Written for the KaiShin Reverse Bang 2021)

Under The Full Moon: Chps 1/1. 4k words. Gen fic. There is a ghost on the loose, with spirit detectives Kudo and Hattori on the case. Kaitou Kid would just like to get out of this mess. (Written for the DCMK Halloween Exhange 2020)

In the Name of Science! : Chp 1/1. 1k words. Crack fic. Humor. Akako and Ai decide to collaborate on a project, and Hakuba suffers for it.

Jar, Not Jewel: Chp 1/1. 1k words. KaiShin. A take on the acquisition of Pandora, and its aftermath. (Written for a Fandom Games event on Tumblr)

Hyacinths and Roses : Chp 1/1. 5k words. KaiShin. A heist stake out and a police stake out cross paths. A thief is asked to "lend a hand" in help. (Rated E)

A Case of Identity: Chps 10/10. 49k words. KaiShin. Identity reveal AU. Post-Conan, Shinichi meets Kaito, as Ran's to-be-boyfriend.

Silver Bullet: Chps 3/3. 7k words. Vermouth, on meeting the two most important people of her life.

Kindly Cruel: Chp 1/1. 2k words. KaiShin. Detectives are like sharks in the ocean, ruthless hunters after blood, and Shinichi especially so.

[souurcitrus]

Batfamily Time-line

Decide to do a quick timeline for Batman's core family, since it seems like the Comics writers don't know how old the characters should be, and with the stories being due between New Earth and Prime Earth, things get even more confusing.

I don't really like the New 52 and most reboots irritate me, so I made this timeline based on old Batman stories. Anot all information are correct, and some is more speculation based on the Comics.

(Edit: Changed Jason's age.)

1939 -

• August 16th - Alfred Pennyworth was born.

• (His age is never specified in any type of media, but it seems like he was at least on his 30s when he became Bruce's guardian).

1962 -

• Bruce Wayne's birthday is officially February 19th (though I don't remember when the exactly year).

1970 -

• One night, while returning from the Monarch Theatre, the Wayne family was approached by the criminal, Joe Chill, who murdered Thomas and Martha and fled.

• Bruce (age 8) was left in Alfred Pennyworth's care (age 31).

1971 -

• January 26 - Kate Kane, Bruce Wayne's cousin, is born.

1975 -

• September 23 - Barbara Gordon is born.

1976 -

• At age 14, Bruce Wayne's eyes were opened to the level of crime in Gotham and he was determined to do something about it, swearing to rid the city of the evil that had taken his parents' lives.

• He left Gotham City and spent his youth traveling the world, training himself to intellectual and physical perfection and learning a variety of crime-fighting skills, including chemistry, criminology, forensics, martial arts, gymnastics, disguise and escape artistry.

1978 -

• March 20 - Richard "Dick" Grayson, son of John and Mary Grayson, two acrobats from The Haley Circus.

1984 -

• (Batman: Year One, Batman #404-407)

• Bruce Wayne (22) returned to Gotham and began acting as a vigilante, taking on the title of Batman.

• Bruce named Lucius Fox president of Wayne Enterprises and brought him, Alfred Pennyworth (45) and Leslie Tompkins their plans.

• Along with James Gordon, Sarah Essen and Harvey Bullock, Batman faces corruption and crime in Gotham.

• August 16 - Jason Todd was born.

• (Catwoman: Her Sister’s Keeper)

• Selina Kyle was inspired to become a costumed thief when she sees Batman in action and becomes Catwoman.

• (Batman: Shaman, Legends of the Dark Knight #1-5)

• That same year, other rogues appeared, before the Joker even existed: Man-Bat, Scarecrow, Poison Ivy and Riddler.

1985 -

• (Batman: Year Two, Detective Comics #575-578)

• Batman inspired the vigilante movement, leading to the arrival of the likes of Superman, Flash, Wonder Woman, Black Canary and his old friend Oliver Queen as Green Arrow.

• January 26 - Cassandra Cain, daughter of Lady Shiva and David Cain, is born.

• (Batman: The Man Who Laughs, Detective Comics #784-786)

• The first appearance of the Joker.

• (Batman: The Long Halloween #1-12)

• Batman, James Gordon and Harvey Dent worked together to bring down the organized crime syndicates led by Carmine Falcone and Sal Maroni.

• They also had to investigate a serial killer named Holiday that had been killing mafiosos. Gotham's new breed of criminals was replacing the traditional gangsters.

• This was the first time Batman met Selina Kyle dressed as Catwoman.

• After a long investigation, Maroni was brought to a trial, during which he threw it at Dent's face, leaving him scarred. Later, Harvey reappeared calling himself Two-Face and shot Falcone twice in the head.

• He was accused of betraying the things he believed in and arrested.

1986 -

• (Superman, vol 1 #76; Superman/Batman annual, #1)

• Superman and Batman meet for the first time, as Superman came to Gotham and they work together tracking the dangerous psychopath Magpie. They both gained respect for each other, although they doubted, they would ever work together again

• July 19 - Timothy Drake is born.

• (Batman/Superman/Wonder Woman: Trinity)

• Clark later introduced Bruce to Wonder Woman while chasing "The Purge" led by Ra's al Ghul.

• Already a hero to Gotham, Batman (26) became a hero to the world when he and six other heroes fought Brainiac's invasion and formed the Justice League of America.

• August 11 - Stephanie Brown is born.

1987 -

• (Detective comics, vol 1 #37 / Robin Annual #4 1995)

• July 15 - Bruce (27) watched the Flying Graysons perform an acrobatic act and continued to watch as they plummeted to their deaths due to the act being sabotaged by Tony Zucco, leaving only his orphaned son, Richard "Dick" Grayson (9).

• Upon learning that Dick had no living relatives, Bruce saw himself in Dick and adopted him. Dick discovered the Batcave and convinced Bruce to train him to be a vigilante.

• (Alfred's age: 48)

1988 -

• (Robin Annual #4)

• Due to his acrobatic skills, Dick Grayson (10) already had a foundation to build on and so Gotham's Dynamic Duo was born with the first appearance of Batman and Robin, beginning the era of young heroes.

• Barbara Gordon (13) becomes an orphan after her parents tragically die in a car accident. Her uncle, Jim Gordon, adopted her and took her to live with him and his wife Sarah in Gotham City.

• November 18 - Harper Row is born.

• (Alfred's age: 49; Bruce's: 28)

1991 -

• (Detective Comics, vol 1 #359, 1967; Batgirl: Year One, 2003)

• Barbara Gordon (16) debuts in an improvised costume as 'Batgirl' and is nearly killed. Eventually she is accepted by Batman and joins the "Bat Family", being Bruce's new apprentice.

• Duke Thomas is born. (Couldn't find his birthday)

• (Alfred: 52; Bruce: 29; Dick: 13)

1994 -

• (The brave and the bold, vol 1 #54-60; Teen Titans vol 1 #53; Teen Titans: Year One)

• The formation of the Teen Titans happened mainly due to the kids' mentors making them feel inferior, which they quickly realized was not right about them.

• Dick Grayson (16), along with Wally West / Kid Flash and Garth / Aqualad teamed up; later, Donna Troy / Wonder Girl (13/14) joined the team along with Roy Harper / Speedy (14).

• Together, they cured the heroes of their mind control; later, their mentors (Batman, Flash, Aquaman and Wonder Woman) supported the idea of ​​the teenagers becoming a heroic group, the Teen Titans!.

• (Alfred: 55; Bruce: 32, Barbara: 19)

1996 -

• When Jason Todd was a child, he lived in a very poor neighborhood with his father Willis and his stepmother Catherine. As his wife was suffering from an illness, Willis became a criminal and started working for Two Faces to pay for her treatment.

• Willis was killed in a shootout after betraying his boss and Jason was left to care for his mother alone, resorting to also getting involved in crime to get money.

• (Teen Titans vol 1 #53)

• The Teen Titans split up and follow different paths in their careers

• Dick divides his time between working with the Titans in New York and working with Batman in Gotham.

• (Batman and the Outsiders, vol 1, 1983)

• Batman (37) leaves the Justice League and forms the Outsiders.

• (Batman and the outsider's, #32; Justice League, vol 1, 1987)

• Batman leaves the Outsiders and joins the New Justice League.

• (Alfred: 57; Bruce: 34; Barbara: 21)

1997 -

• Bruce Wayne (35) begins to notice that Dick is growing up and moving around, living between New York and Gotham. Afraid of being left alone, he fires Dick.

• (Detective Comics vol 1 #495)

• Dick Grayson (19) goes to Hudson University and leaves after the first semester in July.

• Meanwhile, Jason Todd (13) cared for his mother Catherine until her last breath.

• After his death, legally an orphan, Jason lived in his father's apartment in an abandoned building in Crime Alley, where he turned to crime out of necessity. Jason has become highly skilled at stealing tires from vehicles.

• (Batman #408-409, 1987)

• Jason tried to steal the Batmobile's tires, but was caught by Batman, who decided to take Jason in and began training him to be the new Robin.

• Six months after Dick left Gotham, Jason's training was complete and he stepped in as the new Boy Wonder.

• (New Titans, vol 1, 1980)

• Dick Grayson (19) then formed the new Teen Titans with Raven, Wally West/Kid Flash, Donna Troy/Wonder Girl, Koriand’r/Starfire, Victor Stone/Cyborg, and Garfied Logan/Beast Boy.

• (Nightwing: Year One, #101-106)

• However, his identity as Robin no longer suited him and he soon adopted a new identity: Nightwing.

• (Alfred: 58; Bruce: 35; Barbara: 22)

1998 -

• Bruce (36) leaves another Justice League.

• Barbara (23) starts working in a library and has much less time to be Batgirl.

• (Batman: The Cult #1-4)

• (Batman: The Caped Crusader Vol. 1, Batman #417-430 and Batman Annual #12)

• Some Batman stories with Jason (14) as Robin, this collection does not include "death in the family ".

• (Alfred: 59; Dick: 20)

1999 -

• (The killing joke; Batman Chronicles #5; Oracle: Year One)

• At some point, Barbara Gordon (24) is attacked by the Joker.

• The criminal broke into her apartment and shot her, leaving her paralyzed, in an attempt to drive her father, Jim Gordon, crazy and prove that anyone can be as crazy as him if they have just one bad day.

• As he grew older, Jason Todd proved to be a challenge for Bruce (37), despite being skilled crime fighter, he was very rebellious and often disobeyed Batman.

• (August)

• Jason turns fifteen years old.

• (Batman #425-429, A death in the family)

• Batman decided to remove Jason from his duties as Robin to allow him to grieve the death of his parents.

• Jason discovered that the woman he knew as his mother was his stepmother, so he decided to find his biological mother.

• He found her, Sheila Haywood, an aid worker in Ethiopia. She proved to be the right person and she and Jason had an emotional reunion.

• However, unbeknownst to Batman and Robin, Sheila used to run illegal operations in Gotham and was recently blackmailed by the Joker, to whom she handed over her own son (now in his Robin costume).

• The clown brutally beat him with a crowbar. Robin was soon unconscious in a pool of blood. The Joker then left him and Sheila in the warehouse with a time bomb.

• Batman arrived too late to save them as he was stopping the Joker's venom from reaching the city and they died from their injuries.

• Batman pulled Jason's body from the rubble and took him to Gotham City, before he called Wayne Manor to deliver the news.

• (New Titans vol 1 #55, 1989)

• Dick (21) received the news too and returned to Gotham to look after Alfred and Bruce.

• (Suicide Squad vol 1 #23-28, 1989-1990)

• A mysterious Hacker, called Oracle, starts working with the Suicide Squad.

• (Batman: A lonely place of dying, Batman #426-429, #440-442, and New Titans #60-61).

• Some time later, Timothy Drake (13) discovers the secret identities of the Wayne family and tries to join them. He uses Jason's old costume to save Dick (21) and Bruce (37).

• Orphaned by organized crime, Tim was placed in the care of Bruce Wayne. Tim asked his new caretaker to allow him to train as the third Robin, but Bruce refused due to the fact that he was still grieving the loss of Jason Todd.

• Discovering the breadth of Tim's intellect and deductive genius, Alfred opposed Bruce and began training Tim in secret.

• (Detective Comics #618-621; Batman #480-481)

• Tim's mother is murdered and his father is left in a coma, from which he eventually recovers.

• (Robin: A Hero Reborn, Batman #455-457 and Robin #1-5)

• Tim Drake's first missions as Robin, where he heads to France to study specialized fighting techniques under an old master.

2000 -

• Apparently, Jason was dead for six months, so he should be back to life somewhere in february.

• (Batman: Birth of the Demon)

• Bruce discovers the origin of Ra's Al Ghul.

• Helena Bertinelli became Huntress and also began fighting crime in Gotham.

• (Detective Comics vol 1 #647-649, 1992)

• Bruce hears about a young girl named Spoiler causing trouble around town.

• Stephanie Brown (14) wanted to anger her father and began following in Batman's footsteps.

• The mercenary Bane discovered that the effects of Venom increased his physical strength. He arrived in Gotham with the aim of defeating Batman, who he thought owned the city.

• (Batman: Sword of Azrael)

• Bruce met Jean-Paul Valley (18), a student who was being controlled to become the dangerous vigilante Azrael, and then took him in as his new protégé.

• (Robin III, 1992)

• Tim start dating Ariana Dzerchenko.

• (Batman: Knightfall)

• Bane invades the mansion when everyone is away and, being extremely tired, Bruce is unable to face him. Bane breaks his back with one blow and takes control of the city.

• Out of options, Bruce gives Jean-Paul Valley the mantle of Batman.

• (Robin vol 2 #3-5, 1994)

• Spoiler also joins them and gets closer to Tim.

• Bruce, still with a broken back, travels across Europe on a healing mission with Dr. Kinsolving. Alfred despairs at how little he is taking care of himself and resigns in protest.

• Meanwhile, Dick and Kory's relationship becomes worse. They almost get married, but decide to separate and the Teen Titans are disbanded.

• In the months that passed, however, Jean became an extremely cruel and aggressive Batman, distancing himself from Robin and going against Bruce's request.

• He even manages to defeat Bane and tries to break his back, but Robin stops him.

• (Batman: Knightfall) comes to an end. (According to the comics, this arc last at least 6 months)

• Before more damage was done, Bruce recovered and realizing the mistake he made, faced Jean and returned to being Batman in the conclusion KNIGHT ’END.

• (Batman: Prodigal)

• Bruce decides he wants to go on vacation and Dick becomes Batman, with Robin following him.

• Barbara Gordon (25) finally returns to work with her family, revealing herself to be the mysterious Hacker, Oracle.

• At this time, Cheshire became more distant from Bruce after Alfred moved to London and became more busy with the search for Ace and the others from Royal Flush.

• (Nightwing: Alfred's return)

• Dick (22) goes to London to try to convince Alfred to return to Gotham.

• (Batman: Contagion; Batman: Legacy)

• A plague spreads across the city and Batman, Azrael and Gordon try to find a cure. Robin meets Catwoman and reluctantly joins her to also find the cure on a super long journey.

• Nightwing and Huntress deal with rioters in Gotham, and Tim becomes infected when a sick looter spits in his face.

• (Alfred: 61; Dick: 22; Barbara: 25; Bruce: 38; Tim: 14; Stephanie: 14; Jean Paul: 18)

2001 -

• Batman (39) and Azrael (19) go out again in search of a cure.

• Gordon and Mayor Grange fight to keep the city from panicking.

• Batman is forced to leave the city and reluctantly puts Huntress in charge. Helena interrupts a Penguin's plot to cause chaos.

• Batman and Robin (14) travel with Nightwing (23) to the desert and discover that the person behind the virus was the "Immortal" who is revealed to be Ra's al Ghul, who plans to exterminate 90% of humanity so he can dominate the world. world.

• Batman eliminates the virus by blowing up the Aventine Casino.

• Vaccines are distributed and Gotham is saved. Despite Wayne Enterprises exhausting their resources in the relief effort, Bruce is shocked to see the large number of dead bodies.

• Batman, Nightwing, Huntress, and Robin feel guilty for the lives they couldn't save, but Alfred reminds them that every citizen of Gotham would be dead if it weren't for their efforts.

• (Nightwing vol 2)

• On March 20th, Dick turns 23 and moves to Blüdhaven.

• (Black Canary/Oracle: Birds of Prey, 1996)

• Barbara (26) begins working with Black Canary, eventually forming the Birds of Prey.

• Dick and Helena form a romantic relationship in (Nightwing/Huntress).

• (Robin Plus Impulse; World's Finest Three (Superboy/Robin); Young Justice: The Secret)

• Tim meets Superboy and Bart Allen / Impulse and then saves a mysterious girl named Secret.

• (Justice League of America: World without growth; Young Justice vol 1)

• They form Young Justice.

• (Batman: Cataclysm)

• There is a huge earthquake that passes through Gotham City, destroying many buildings and tearing up the foundations. With the chaos caused by the earthquake, many criminals are released, the city is completely isolated from the rest of the world.

• (Robin vol 2 #57, 1998)

• At some point, Tim breaks up with his girlfriend Ariana to be with Stephanie, who realizes she is pregnant, so tosses the mantle of vigilante aside for a while.

• (Batman: Aftershocks)

• In the weeks that pass, Gotham tries to recover. However, Bruce's efforts to help the city are futile when the world decides to turn its back on Gotham.

• (JLA/Titans #1-3; Titans vol 1)

• Dick returns with the Teen Titans.

2002 -

• (Batman: No man’s land)

• After the US government's declaration, Gotham City became a No Man's Land, which effectively quarantined the island. Bridges were destroyed and any other means of entry or exit were guarded by the Army.

• Although the Justice League did not assist in the quarantine for ethical reasons, they were so busy preventing outside forces from conquering the city that the internal situation was left to Batman and his allies.

• According to Barbara Gordon (27), it has been 93 days since the quarantine began and "Gotham is still dead."

• Batman disappeared all this time, and when he returned to the city to reconquer it, he saw that the criminals had already taken over.

• During this arc, Bruce reclaims the city, meets Cassandra Cain (17), daughter of David Cain, a former mentor, Barbara hands over her Batgirl mantle to Cassandra, Lex Luther hires Bane to destroy Gotham's gallery, so he can take control of the city, and James Gordon's wife is killed by the Joker.

• (Alfred: 63; Dick: 24; Barbara: 27; Bruce: 40; Tim: 16; Stephanie: 16; Jean Paul: 20; Cassandra: 17)

2003 -

• Eventually, thanks in large part to the financial and political machinations of Lex Luthor, Gotham City was liberated and rebuilt, and became part of the United States again.

• (Batman: Evolution; Batman: Turning Points; Batman: Officer Down)

• Ten weeks after No Man's Land ended, Commissioner Gordon is shot and retires.

• Alfred (64) goes with Tim (17) when he starts studying and isn't talking to Bruce.

• (Batman & Huntress: A Cry For Blood)

• Helena Bertinelli is being accused of murder and, while avoiding the GCPD and the Bat-Family, she revisits her childhood with The Question in hopes of trying to uncover the true culprit.

• (JLA: Tower of Babel)

• Ra's Al Ghul steals Batman's plans to defeat the Justice League of America.

• Dick (25) goes to the police academy. He and Barbara (28) start dating.

• Tarantula debuts as a vigilante (ew)

• (Batgirl vol 1 #3-6, 2000)

• Cassandra (18) continued as Batgirl moved into Barbara's Clock Tower.

• (Robin vol 2 #87; Batgirl vol 1 #20)

• Bruce tells Stephanie (17) Tim's identity and begins to train her.

• Jean-Paul (21) has established a base of operations near Gotham.

• (Gotham Knights #17, #20-21)

• Bruce (41) finally adopts Dick (25) as his son.

• (Bruce Wayne: Murderer? / Bruce Wayne: Fugitive / Consequences)

• When Vesper Fairchild is found dead at Wayne Manor and Bruce is imprisoned at Blackgate with Sasha Bordeaux, the other members of the bat family try to help break the case.

• However, Bruce has had enough and escapes from prison announcing his intention to do away with Bruce Wayne's identity, and exist solely as Batman.

• Some members of the Family continue to doubt Bruce's innocence in Fairchild's murder, as it appears he has truly crossed the line this time.

• They undergo an extensive investigation as Bruce struggles with identity complications from fighting crime on the streets.

• Eventually, they discover that Vesper's real killer was the ever-devious David Cain, who was hired by then-President Lex Luthor to destroy Bruce.

• (Batman: Broken City, Batman #620-625)

• Batman embarks on a journey of self-discovery that forces him to reflect on the life he has led and the choices he has made while hunting the killer of a young boy's parents.

• (Azrael: Agent of the Bat, vol 1 #100)

• Azrael (21) ended up being killed in a fight with his two biggest enemies, Biis and Scratch, after an attempt to frame Azrael for various crimes. Azrael was hit in his armor and fell from a balcony.

• Although his costume was recovered, his corpse was not.

• (Batman: Hush)

• It's a hell of a mystery that lasts at least a whole week or more. Jason is not here, it's fucking Clayface.

• (Arkham Asylum: Living Hell)

• (Batman: Tabula Rasa / Veritas Liberat)

• Bane (41) discovers that Thomas Wayne was close to his mother before his death and goes to Gotham, demanding that he and Bruce take a DNA test. He stays at Wayne Manor for a while, and there he and Batman fight crime together, with Bruce trying to convince him to be less aggressive.

• When the DNA test arrives, it becomes clear that he and Bruce are not related, he is devastated and lost.

• Some time later, Bane meets his father, the King Cobra, Sir Dorrance, but they do not get along and Bane, who has developed a small respect for Batman, protects Bruce from being shot and almost dies, but Bruce throws him in the Lazarus Pit.

• Bruce lets him leave Gotham a free man.

• (Batman: Death and the Maidens, 2003-2004.)

• Ra's al Ghul dies

• (Titans/YoungJustice: Graduation Day; Teen Titans vol 3; Outsiders vol 3)

• A team-up between Young Justice and the Titans goes horribly, resulting in several deaths, and both teams breaking up. Tim ends up joining the latest version of the Teen Titans, and Dick is reluctantly convinced by Roy to join the new Outsiders.

• (Birds of Prey vol 160.)

• Huntress joins the Birds of Prey, and things are finally looking good for her.

• (Nightwing vol 2, #83 and #95)

• In Blüdhaven, Dick's life is terrible, including Barbara breaking up with him, his old circus being burned down, and his building being blown up, culminating in Blockbuster's death.

• It's a bad time.

• (Robin vol 2 #127-128)

• Soon after, Tim's father discovers that he is Robin and forces him to retire. Stephanie temporarily becomes Robin before Batman takes the mantle from her again.

• (Batman: War Games)

• Immediately afterwards, the War Games begin – Stephanie starts a gang war to prove herself to Bruce and is murdered.

• (Identity Crisis)

• A few days after Stephanie dies, Tim's father is murdered.

• Barbara's Clock Tower is destroyed.

• The police are against the vigilantes

• (Robin #132, Batgirl #58, Robin #133, Batgirl #59)

• Tim, mourning his father and girlfriend, and a little tense with Bruce after the Stephanie stuff; and Cass is mourning her best friend; they move to Bludhaven, where they begin a stronger friendship.

• During this period, Tim placed himself in the custody of a fake uncle, after rejecting Bruce's offer to adopt him.

• (Nightwing vol 2 #107-115)

• Dick left Bludhaven and Gotham, working briefly with the mob in Detroit, and then with Deathstroke.

• (Birds of Prey vol 1 #74)

• Barbara moves to Metropolis with the Birds of Prey.

• (Batgirl vol 1 #66-73)

• Cassandra goes on a personal quest to discover her mother's identity, is caught with the League of Assassins, is killed, thrown into a Lazarus Pit and comes back to life.

• (She doesn't seem to tell anyone about this.)

• (Batman: Under the red hood; Teen Titans #29)

• Jason Todd (19) goes back to Gotham, kills some guys, tries to kill Tim (17), does his whole sad thing and leaves.

• While Under The Red Hood is happening, Dick (28) leaves the name Nightwing and becomes Renegade.

• He chooses to work with Deathstroke of his own free will because he is in a bad place mentally and thinks that Deathstroke can help him with his goals.

• (Infinite Crisis)

• Tension between superheroes and villains increases. Bludhaven is blown up and Dick returns to Nightwing, but does not return to Blüdhaven.

• (Alfred: 64; Dick: 25; Barbara: 28; Bruce: 41; Tim: 17; Stephanie: 17; Jean Paul: 21; Cassandra: 18)

• (Jason is 19 now, he died when he was fifteen.)

2004-

• Bruce's last paranoid spy turns bad and almost kills everyone, Superboy dies, Dick almost dies and the universe semi-explodes again.

• Bruce decides to take Tim (18) and Dick (26) on a fun trip around the world.

• When Cassandra (19) returns from her spiritual quest, she takes over Gotham in their place.

• Also during the holidays this year, Kate Kane (33), Batwoman, appears for the first time, although she actually has a lot less connection to the main Bat-family than you might expect.

• (Alfred: 65; Dick: 26; Barbara: 29; Bruce: 42; Tim: 18; Stephanie: 18; Cassandra: 19; Jason: 20, Kate: 33)

• (I don't know if Kate's age is stated at any point. And I don't know if the writers know either.)

2005 -

2006-

• (The events of "One Year Later" begin)

• Jim Gordon comes out of retirement to be commissioner again, for reasons that will never be explained.

• (Nightwing #118)

• Dick returns to NYC, where he has an unpleasant - but brotherly - encounter with Jason, who is still an anti-villain.

• (Batman vol 1 #654, 2006)

• Bruce offers to adopt Tim again, and this time Tim accepts and moves into the mansion.

• (Outsiders: Five of a Kind, 2007)

• Dick (28) leaves the Outsiders, and Bruce takes over the new team.

• (Batman and son, Batman #655-658, #663-669, #672- #675, 2006)

• Bruce discovers that he has a biological son with Talia, Damian Al Ghul (10) and takes him in. But Damian wants to be the only Robin so he tries to kill Tim and no one likes that so he apparently dies along with Talia.

• (Batman: The Resurrection of Ra's al Ghul)

• Ra's tries to steal the Damian's body to revive him. Things don't work well, he ends up in a different body and Talia and Damian disappear again.

• (Titans vol 2, 2008)

• Dick and company reform the Titans once again.

• (Robin #170-174; Robin/Spoiler Special, 2008.)

• Stephanie makes her return to Gotham.

• Tim is initially thrilled to see her, but this becomes an uncomfortable tension as her fake death takes hold.

• (Batgirl vol 2, 2008-2009; Batman and the Outsiders vol 2 #2)

• Cassandra returns to live in the mansion, Bruce adopts her and his daughter.

• At some point, Damian returns to Gotham and tries to reconnect with his father. He starts to live in the mansion with Bruce, Alfred and Tim.

• (Batman: The Heart of Hush)

• (Batman RIP)

• The Final Crisis happens and Bruce "dies" aka is lost in time.

• Dick returns to Gotham because someone has to keep this city and his family intact. And the Teen Titans split up again.

• (Batman: Battle for the Cowl, 2009)

• Tim convinces Dick to become Batman, with Damian as his new Robin.

• (Red Robin #1-4, 2009)

• Tim doesn't like Damian being Robin, and he also believes Bruce is alive so he becomes Red Robin and goes on his murder mystery tour.

• He also doesn't believe Bruce is dead and searches for him.

• (Batman and Robin vol 1)

• Dick, Damian and Alfred move into Wayne Tower, living in the penthouse and working in the underground bunker below.

• (Batman: Long Shadows, Batman #687-691)

• Dick becomes the new Batman. It doesn't take long for the city's criminals to put him to the test.

• (Batman and Robin, Vol. 2: Batman vs. Robin)

• (Batman: Streets of Gotham Vol. 1: Hush Money)

• Hush tries to pretend to be Bruce Wayne but Dick, Damian and the Outsiders put him under control.

• (Batman: Streets of Gotham – Vol. 2: Leviathan)

• (Batman: Life After Death)

• (Batgirl vol 3)

• On Bruce's posthumous orders, Cassandra gives the mantle of Batgirl to Stephanie. After she leaves the Outsiders and Gotham, she is later revealed to have gone to Hong Kong.

• Dick joins the Justice League as Batman. • Stephanie returns as Batgirl. Dick tries to bring Jason back and he refuses, preferring to remain an anti-hero.

• (Red Robin vol 1 #10-12)

• Tim returns to Gotham now as Red Robin, now having proof that Bruce is alive, he also becomes president or something of Wayne Enterprises.

• (Alfred: 67; Dick: 28; Barbara: 31, Bruce: 44; Tim: 20; Stephanie: 20; Cassandra: 21; Jason: 22, Kate: 35; Damian: 10)

2007-

• (Batman: The Return of Bruce Wayne / Bruce Wayne: Road Home; Batman: The Return)

• Bruce returns to life thanks to his allies and family. Dick returns Batman's mantle to him.

• (Batman and Robin, Vol. 3: Robin Must Die!)

• (Batman & Robin: Dark Knight vs White Knight)

• (Batman: Streets of Gotham Vol. 3: The House of Hush)

• Tommy Elliot cracks under the strain of living as Bruce Wayne and plots his ultimate revenge against Dick Grayson, Selina Kyle and other members of Bruce's friends and allies.

• Cassandra becomes Black Bat in Hong Kong.

• (Batman and Robin vol 1 #23-25)

• Jason (23) escapes from prison, works with Damian (11) and Dick (29) then disappears.

• (At this point Tim and Stephanie should already be in college, right? Let's pretend they are!!)

• (Batman: The Black Mirror)

• Dick, as Batman, has to deal with James Gordon Jr.

• (Batman: Eye of the Beholder)

• (Batman: The Night of the Owls)

• (Batman, Vol. 2: The City of Owls)

• Bruce meets Harper Row (19), who becomes the vigilante Blue Bird. She doesn't have as many appearances as she should and is soon left aside in the comics.

• (Batman and Robin: Born to Kill)

• The killer Nobody goes after Batman and Robin (Bruce and Damian). This is the first time we see Morgan Ducard and Titus, Damian's dog.

• (Batman and Robin: Pearl)

• Damian tries to prove to Bruce that he is worthy of being Robin just like his older brothers.

• (Alfred: 68; Dick: 29; Barbara: 32, Bruce: 45; Tim: 21; Stephanie: 21; Cassandra: 22; Jason: 23, Kate: 36; Damian: 11; Harper: 19)

• (I don't know if Harper's age is stated at any point.)

2008 -

• Jason (24) joins the Outlaws.

• Dick (30) sees that Damian (12) needs to make friends and develop compassion, to curb his harsh ways. He then takes Damian to Titans Tower, where Damian, despite not being a teenager, takes steps to become the leader of the Teen Titans.

• After dealing with his first mission, which at first was a disaster but ultimately went well, Damian leaves the Titans.

• Upon returning to Gotham, Dick notices that his brother has become more patient and less likely to use his weapons.

• Damian infiltrates Gotham Academy, where he meets Maps Mizoguchi (13), a big fan of Batman and Robin, who becomes his friend.

• (Supersons)

• Damian becomes friends with Jon Kent (10).

• (Gotham's Most Wanted; Batman and Robin: Requiem)

• They happen a little differently. Let's not make Talia the worst mother in the world, please, I hate what they did to her in these comics.

• Robin dies and Bruce is expelled from Gotham. One of the differences here is that since Azrael is dead (since we ignore the New 52).

• (Robin: Son of Batman 2015—2016)

• Damian meets Maya Ducard (Nobody).

• (Batman: Urban Legends Vol 1 #1)

• Jason Todd (24) is reinstated into the Wayne family.

• (Joker: Endgame)

• The Robin war begins.

• (Batman Vol. 10: Epilogue; Batman #51-52, Batman: Futures End #1, Batman Annual #4)

• Bruce tries to recover from the events of Joker: Endgame. Duke Thomas (17) joins the Bat-Family as the vigilante Signal.

• Gotham and Gotham Girl debut.

• (Let's just ignore most of I am Suicide, I am Bane, I Am Gotham and all that shit. Alfred is immortal and stays alive after this, please :'].)

• (Alfred: 69; Dick: 30; Barbara: 33, Bruce: 46; Tim: 22; Stephanie: 22; Cassandra: 23; Jason: 24, Kate: 37; Damian: 12; Harper: 20; Duke: 17)

2009 -

• (The Next Batman: Second Son)

• Jace Fox becomes Batman.

----

According to the comics, Damian is like 14 right now (and we ignore what the comics did to Jon), so Alfred should be 71 (since we pretend he doesn't die), Dick is 32, Barbara 35, Bruce 48, Tim and Stephanie are 24, Jason is 26, Cassandra is 25, Kate is 39, Harper is 22 and Duke is 19.

Bruce has been Batman for 20 years :)

[clazaries]

Karma in the Form of Justice -slightlydark!Steven w/ a hint of Marc x thief!reader

Summary: An opportunist thief takes their chances stealing from the wrong tomb and has to face their karma in the form of Moon Knight. Basically, don't get on the wrong side about Egyptian matters when it comes to Steven and if he teaches you something, you better remember it. w/c: 6.9k Warnings: none really, mentions of violence and murder :) and my horrible knowledge of ancient egypt. You are the bad guy in this a/n: first fic! I kinda wrote steven slightly differently to canon steven and made him a little darker ;) ENJOY

***

It started out innocent. Because, of course, you were only 7 years old at the time. When the class was emptying out through the doorway, little, dumb Timmy left his British Museum pencil sitting freely on his desk, begging for someone to claim it. That someone was you. The urge to take it was overwhelming and you succumbed to temptation, stashing the pencil deep into your pocket when no one was looking and when no one could figure out the mystery of the disappearing pencil, it was exhilarating knowing that you were the only one who held the secret as to where it went. 

The feeling followed as you got older. 

It started out with a pencil. Then a pencil case. From a pencil case to a school bag. Within that school bag was a purse containing a little over £1.50, but still, it was a treasured find. From purses to watches, necklaces, rings, valuables, anything that could be pawned and make you that slightly bit richer. When you were old enough to realise about the illegalities of your little habits, guilt and paranoia began to make themselves known to you. But they were equally matched with the feeling of euphoria and the adrenaline of getting away with it, so although you did try to tone it back, you never really stopped. 

By your late teens, the routine grew tiresome and you endeavoured for something bigger, better, flashier and ten times more riskier. You had to look no further than your very first pilferage. 

The British Museum.

~~~~

If you ever tried to justify your actions, what sets you apart from the usual petty thieves is patience and intention. Thieves lack the former but embody the latter. They grow greedy and would plan and scheme and waste hours (the stupid ones don’t plan at all), throwing themselves into a situation that would inevitably result in handcuffs. You, on the other hand, were an opportunist, patient enough to know to pounce only when the moment presented itself on a silver platter. Why chase the thrill when you could let it find you? 

On one random day during the week while your parents were enjoying their two week vacation to Italy, you decided to skip school and take a trip to the Museum. You did very little research before entering (after all, less planning means less intention means less suspicion), so you were pleasantly surprised by the museum’s ongoing exhibition of artefacts from ancient Egypt. 

Your legs carried you in no certain direction, weaving in and out of the display cabinets of stone statues, plaques of hieroglyphics and crumbling pieces of sand. Despite it all being rather interesting, the artefacts weren’t the only thing your eyes were scanning for. Within the first room alone, you spotted 6 cameras and one patrol officer meandering just as casually as you were. There was no need to panic though, you were here to peruse. Not to steal. 

You couldn’t promise yourself any restraint should the opportunity arise…

“Ah! I see you’ve found the Ushabti of Pa-Di-Pep.” An enthusiastic voice from your left appeared behind you. You turned to see a man with black curly hair, donning an enthusiastic smile as his eyes bounced from the ‘ushabti’ and you. “26th dynasty,” he muttered a little quieter. “Very old. Well, I guess that’s obvious. Wouldn’t be an exhibition on ancient Egypt if it was modern.” As his laughter died, your eyes caught the glint of his name tag on his jacket. Steven. You gathered he worked here. 

“Oh, cool.” Your tone was rather disinterested and couldn’t be more sarcastic if you tried. “You know your stuff.”

“Oh it’s right up my alley actually. I’ve spent loads of time reading up on this kind of stuff. I could tell you anything about everything in this room. If you’d like?” The way he rolled on the balls of his feet like a child told you that he so clearly wanted to. You decided to indulge in him, only because you could get something out of it. 

“Sure. It would be a great help towards my school project.” A clever lie, one that is easily bought by the sad little man beside you, lighting up his eyes and rolling his enthusiasm back to high tide. “So what about this ushabti, then? Anything else you can tell me about that?” 

The man rambled on for a little while longer than you wanted, waiting for that perfect opportunity to segue onto the question that was hot on your lips. What was it worth?

“...figurines could also be inscribed with passages from the Book of the Dead, the intention of which was to secure safety for the deceased in the afterlife.”

“So not quite the ideal decoration to have in your house then?” 

“Oh no, no, not at all. These are funeral artefacts, usually left buried along with a tomb.” 

“Bummer. I was really looking into sprucing up my living room with one of these,” you jested, bumping a gentle elbow against his. 

He elbowed back, “would really take the ‘living’ out of ‘living room’.”

“Definitely not worth it.” You began to look around the room, gambling with the idea of whether or not an opportunity could be found here. The security might’ve been too much of a risk. But it didn’t mean you couldn’t window shop. “So tell me then, out of anything in here, what would be worth having in your living room?” 

“Where to begin? Oh! Here…” 

Honestly, you zoned out, not having the slightest interest in anything he was saying unless it had any relevance to you. The man droned on and on about the history and the magnificence of each piece he talked about but nothing about its worth. You were about to try and cut ties until you both came across an interesting piece that gained your attention. 

“And this is the bronze figure of the Egyptian God Ptah-”

“Ptah? Who’s he?”

He looked at you, dumbfounded, as if you'd just asked what day it was. “Who’s he? He’s only the Egyptian God of creation?! He was believed to have dreamt creation in his heart and gave it life with his breath.” 

Spare me the poetry, pal. What’s it worth? Give me a number. 

“So top shelf mantle material.” You feigned interest, smiling widely at him. 

“Definitely. A very expensive one at that. Would set you back at least 37 grand.” 

Interesting. 

You stayed for a little while until the number of witnesses dwindled into single digits. The museum was beginning to close up, staff were outnumbering visitors with the majority of them leaving through the gift shop which conveniently sold replicas of the bronze figure ‘Steven’ showed you earlier.

You always told yourself that you never planned, but another opportunity had opened up to you and you couldn’t help but call it fate. 

It went flawlessly. When no one was looking you swiftly snatched the real bronze figure, giving you the seconds you needed to make it to the gift shop before the panicked patrol officer alerted staff. The hubbub of the precious missing artefact opened up the second opportunity to swipe a replica from the shelf. 

“Oh, excuse me!” You had yelled, holding the replica up in the air, the real one encased in your rucksack. “I saw some kid walking out with this, I believe it belongs here.” Your sickly smile fooled the patrol staff, knowing none the wiser, and kindly took the replica with a relieved breath, placing it back onto its pedestal.

You walked out the museum 37 grand richer.

~~~~

Whenever you pulled something off like this, you tended to keep your head low for at least a week after, limiting the amount of times you left your home, and kept communication to an absolute minimum. Within a few weeks, you were back to your normal self. However, this time the euphoria was very short-lived. It had been a day after your theft when the paranoia settled in and you had never known it to be so all-consuming. With a pilferage worth 37 grand, it meant that the stakes were far too high to wager with. Finding rest was a rare luxury for at least a week. You tried to ease your way through the days feeling conflicted and, in all honesty, petrified of the foreseeable. With each day that passed, you found it harder and harder to keep your paranoia at bay and you didn’t dare leave your home and the mental torture plagued you with restlessness; having to check locks four, fives times before you left each room. 

Your home started to feel like less of a safe space. You couldn’t explain the feeling you had every morning when you woke up, itching with an unease that someone had been watching you, spying on you, observing you with resentment in their eyes with what you had chosen to do with your life. It was then you started to notice things being out of place; the ridge in your carpet had changed shape, curtains had been drawn wider than how you usually left them, a kitchen chair was facing just a degree or two out of place. That same night, you remembered standing in the middle of your bedroom with a cold breeze drafting around you, but it wasn’t the reason for your shivers. To your left a creak of the floorboards, to your right a moan of the wind. Something wasn’t right. Something definitely wasn’t right. 

It could’ve been your paranoia, it could’ve been your lack of sleep, but you were certain you spotted two glowing eyes peering through your window from across the street, staring directly into your soul. 

“Fuck this,” you whispered to yourself. Without a moments’ hesitation you reached for the bronze figure you had stashed within the hollows of your wall. “Time to get rid of this.” 

Being quite the weasel you are, you sold the bronze figure for almost double the money on the black market and made the very bold decision to get out of the country before you were consumed by guilt. 

~~~~

3 years later

“You ready?” Amon asks you, propping up his scarf over his face to fight against the sandy winds. You nod to him before following him into the entrance of the tomb that lies just beneath an alcove, hidden in the shadows of the dunes. 

Amon had already scouted the entrance of the tomb a few days prior, so he takes lead on the scavenge guiding the way with a bright white torch and the moment you step into the tomb, you become his shadow. The tunnel is narrow and carries a draft only a fraction of the winds outside and it’s something you’re thankful for, otherwise you would be dripping right through your clothes with sweat. Every step is with caution, every living breath is considered your last, both you and Amon are aware of the risks that these tunnels carry. 

Amon, being a local, had his reasons for entering the tunnel; he knows of the treasures and rarities of what lies inside, a conversation that caught wind and found your eavesdropping ears in the midst of a busy town outside Cairo. Not to mention, he’s as greedy for his share of the fortune if you are skillful enough to succeed. Unfortunately, being a local, he also has his reasons not to enter. On a spiritual level, this tomb is considered to be cursed, ladened with traps of an Egyptian mind that could easily kill you with one wrong step. He is too afraid to do it alone.

On a more realistic level, the structure is unsupported, tunnels weaving their way beneath tonnes and tonnes of ancient bricks, sand and rubble that could collapse at any given moment. That’s the real risk you’re more frightened of. 

“How much of this did you actually scout?” You ask.

“I go until no more.” His broken English rises above the low moaning whistle which Amon claims to be the voice of the dead, warning you to turn back while you still have a chance. You don’t heed his superstitions.

You both eventually reach the point that Amon had mentioned and honestly, you were expecting it to be a lot further into the tomb and not just a few minutes into the journey. Before you, a collapsed section of the tunnel with a small point of entrance between the ground and rubble. Eyeing it up, you realise it’s big enough that you could squeeze yourself through there if you held your breath but taking a second glance at Amon, there’s no way his 5'10 well-fed body could do the same. 

He gestures to the blockage, “I go until no more.” 

“Right.” You heave a sigh, considering your options; ignore the risks and do it alone, or turn around and walk away from it all. 

Alas, that small hole is an opportunity. And where there is an opportunity, there is possibility. 

You begin to strip yourself of your equipment until you are down to a few layers of clothing. You lower yourself onto your stomach heading face first through the opening. “When I get through, pass me my equipment, okay?” Amon nods in understanding, but not without mentioning how crazy he thinks you are. 

It’s an awkward shuffle through to the other side. Hands, elbows, knuckles and knees are scraping against the ground in an attempt to push your way through, aided by the breath of relief when you make it to the other side. Beams of white light shine through the cracks in the rubble and when Amon hears you made it, he passes through your equipment. 

You find his eyes through one of the cracks. “Will you wait?” You reluctantly ask, suddenly feeling vulnerable now that you have been separated. 

“Yes. I have walkie-talkie. Atamanaa lak al tawfiq.” You don’t know what he said, but from his tone and the way he looks at you with hope you guess that it’s along the lines of ‘good luck’. 

With a final nod, you head off into the unknown, your torch shining the way. 

There’s a million thoughts running through your head as you delve deeper into the tomb, but yet not one that gives you any comfort. What if there isn’t anything to find? What if you get lost? What if Amon doesn’t wait for you? What if you get trapped? 

What if you die?

They remind you that you are way out of your depth here, you aren’t an adventurer nor an explorer of any sort. You’re an opportunist thief who takes their chances where they shouldn’t. What the hell are you doing here?

You force yourself to swallow your growing discomfort, clinging on to the small possibility and Amon’s knowledge that you do find something worth your while. Besides, it’s that small possibility that motivated you to crawl through that opening and continue your journey. You have to keep going.

The tunnels eventually open up into a massive hollow cavern lined with broken paths and cliff edges, hanging over a substantial drop. You take a moment to collect yourself, eyes following the paths and finding that the only way is down. Down into the pit of darkness. There isn’t a sound to be heard, and if it wasn’t for your powerful torch, you wouldn’t be able to see a thing. The breeze has calmed to nothing, not a single wisp of your hair moving upon your head and the heat starts to become more of a nuisance. Your palms sweat as you cling onto protruding rocks along the wall and your torch threatens to slip from your grasp. It’s a challenging obstacle course, manoeuvring yourself from one path to another, planning and scheming as you go. 

“You there Amon?” The bleep of the walkie-talkie bounces against the walls of the cavern, its echo travelling for miles. You estimate that you’re about 50 feet down from where you started.

“Yes. Everything okay?” 

“Yeah, the tomb goes deep. I don’t know if the signal will carry if I get to the bottom…” you pause, hesitant over your next words. “This might take a while. If you don’t hear from me in 4 hours, then just leave.” 

“Leave you? No, no, no, I wait in car. You come back in 4 hours. Yes?” 

“Okay. I’ll contact you again when I get to the--shit!!” What stops you mid-sentence is the pair of glowing white eyes at the bottom of the cavern, floating, watching, observing. You’ve seen those eyes before. It was unnerving the first time but it’s even more terrifying the second time, a new wave of fear now rattling your bones. Your heart rate picks up, your pulse almost thrumming in your ears in sheer panic. No, no, no. It can’t be…

You shine your torch towards the eyes but in its deathly white glow, they disappear, reappearing only when you avert your torch.

“Hello? You okay? Hello?!” Amon’s almost yelling through the walkie-talkie. 

“I’m okay, sorry, just…” You have no idea what to say, eyes glued to the glowing ones miles below you. “Just got a fright.” 

“Be careful,” is that last thing Amon says to you before the line goes dark. When all is silent, you’re left to quietly battle against the glowing pair of eyes, unmoving and unblinking. You don’t dare take a single step, adamant on keeping your gaze locked firmly below you with two hands clenched around the torch in a white-knuckled grip. You quickly become stuck in a cycle of shining your torch onto them, repeatedly watching them disappear and reappear in the hopes that they’ll eventually vanish forever. 

“Fuck…just leave me alone,” you quietly murmur to yourself. When the eyes refuse to react, you bravely decide to take a single side step, closer towards your next descent where you know you will have to detach your gaze, but you know you can’t stay here forever. The eyes don’t move, they don’t blink, they just keep watching you. So you take another step, and another, and another…

Within a matter of panic-inducing seconds, you eventually reach the edge of a ridge when your torch begins flickering, the light dimming with each flicker. “No, no, no you have to be kidding me!” Stressed, you bang the torch against your palm in a nervous attempt to keep the light, it’s your only salvation right now, you can’t lose it. You could’ve sworn the batteries were fully charged. You had them charging overnight knowing you were going into a dark tomb, why aren’t they working? Fuck, why won’t they work?! 

Despite your distraction, you’re hyper aware of the eyes below you, eyes that you are not currently watching and having lost your composure, your paranoia floods you with thoughts that this was what they were waiting for; their moment to pounce. They could be scaling the walls towards your position. They could have moved and you wouldn’t know. They could be inches from you and you wouldn’t even notice until it was too late. You feel it. They’re crawling closer and closer and closer…

After a few heart stopping seconds, the torch finally flashes to life and with a desperate sob you shine the bright beam towards the eyes as if the light is your shield. Like before they disappear, but unlike before, they don’t reappear. They’re gone. You can’t see them anywhere. Not above, not below. Gone. 

The stress overwhelms you and you drop to your knees, passing a strangled whimper and letting your heart rate slow to an easy beat. Fuck. You’re still a long way to go, how are you going to manage? 

Against your better judgement, you continue at a slow and agonising pace, still very aware of your surroundings as if you’re expecting the eyes to appear again. Thankfully, about an hour and a half of descending down the multiple jumps and hazardous steps, you reach an opening. Finding another narrow tunnel that leads you away from the cavern seems like a saving-grace and you don’t give the glowing eyes another opportunity to appear before you follow the trail. 

“Amon, can you hear me?” Your walkie-talkie hisses a low frequency back at you. “Amon, are you there?” 

No response. You are truly on your own now. 

You readjust your rucksack straps, retie your bootlaces, wipe the sweat from your brow, and with feigned determination, you set off through yet another dark, narrow tunnel with your untrustworthy torch in hand. 

You quickly find that this one isn’t like the one you and Amon travelled through at the entrance, this one feels like a maze. Despite it having only one path and being completely linear, there is a tight 90 degree corner every 5 or 6 steps. Left, right, left, left, right, left, right, right, left. It’s unnerving because even though you know you can’t get lost and you know exactly where you came from, there’s no way of telling what lies ahead of you, no way of telling what lurks just around the corner, waiting for you in the darkness. What’s worse is that there’s no way of telling if anything is following you until it’s exactly five steps behind you which, by that point, there’s no outrunning it. You’ve never felt paranoia like it and the deeper you trail, the more anxious you become. 

After fifteen minutes, you feel you’re going in circles. Logically, you know it isn’t possible but the disorientation you feel convinces you otherwise. You’ve taken so many left and right-hand turns that you’ve lost count and you just can’t map it out in your head. There has to be an end, this can’t go on for much longer. 

After another five minutes, you stop to gather your sanity tucked neatly into one of the many corners of the tunnel, keeping track of where you came from and where you intend to go. You cleanse your mind with a refreshing drink of cold water, splashing some sparingly across your forehead and the back of your neck, revelling in the small relief it brings you. The droplets on the ground are the only evidence of your travels and you figure it would be a good indication should you succeed in making it back. Just a couple of more hours, you tell yourself. You can do it. 

Composed, you rise to your feet ready to take another step but before you do, your torch flickers again, subjecting you to intermittent seconds of pure darkness. Your heart stops dead in your chest. The last time that happened the eyes were watching you and you can’t bear to think that time is repeating itself. 

Your strategy from last time fails you and no matter how hard you hit the flashlight against your palm, this time it doesn’t come back to life. Flicking the switch off and on again does it no good either and your breathing becomes panicked. Crouched in the corner, you’re enveloped in darkness. It’s so dark that you begin to see swirls of your imagination floating in front of your eyes, so dark that you can’t even see your hand inches from your face, yet still your eyes flicker around frantically as if you could see. 

Helpless, you turn to your other senses, feeling around the rocky sandy ground in search of your rucksack where you know you packed emergency flares. It’s a struggle to rummage for them and until you do, you keep on high alert, listening out for anything out of the ordinary. 

That’s when you hear it; the crumbling of sand, the crunching of footsteps and the soft ruffle of fabric. Someone’s here. There’s no doubt about it. Everything in you is screaming to just abandon the flare and just run but fear keeps you rooted with your hand deep into your rucksack. Your heart feels like a weight in your chest, banging against your rib cage to escape the situation you’re in but your brain tells you to stay, hoping that whoever, whatever, is here is just as blinded by the darkness as you are. If you move, it’ll hear you. 

Your hand eventually knocks against the flare, feeling the familiar cylinder encased in your hand. Alarmed, you pull it out and set it alight, its red flare bursting to life. It gives light to the corridors to your right and to your left…where a tall, daunting mummified figure in white stands, glaring its glowing white eyes on you. Its sudden presence kick starts your reflexes and adrenaline pumps through your veins, pushing you to your feet with a hysterical whimper escaping your throat, and before you even know it, you’re running almost blindly through the tunnel. There isn’t a second thought spared to the broken flashlight and the rucksack full of equipment you mistakenly left behind, running further and further away from whatever is stalking behind you. With the flare outstretched, red walls zoom by you as you try to cut every corner, scraping shoulders and elbows against the walls in a desperate attempt to increase the distance between you and that thing. 

You can hear it behind you, marching at a quick pace, its footsteps drumming into your ears gradually getting closer and louder. Oh God. It’s right behind you. Keep running, keep running, fuck just don’t stop running!

Tears and sweat glide down your cheeks and you begin to worry that it’ll be the last thing you feel before this being captures you. However, you're granted one last chance of salvation when you turn a corner and see that the tunnel stretches out into a long, straight, narrow path, giving your legs a chance to break into a full uninterrupted sprint. Towards the end you see an archway leading you into the heart of the tomb where a sarcophagus lies in the centre of the room; the very one Amon described as being a goldmine of treasuries. If you can just make it there…

You pick up speed at the moment the tunnel surrounding you begins to rumble, tremors setting your feet off course and pushing you off balance. Little stones and flecks of dust fall from above you and land in your eyes but you know you can’t afford to stop, knowing that that being is still behind you. Little did you know that you had set off a trap, stepping on a plate that triggers the corridor to collapse, no doubt a preventative measure to stop people like you from pilfering the tomb within. But you had been running so quickly, you barely even noticed. Perhaps if you keep running just as fast, you might be able to escape from being crushed to death…

The rumbling becomes so loud that it drowns out the footsteps from behind you and you put all of your remaining strength into sprinting as fast as you can, pumping blood and adrenaline to your legs as they carry you closer and closer to the tomb. Every step is paired with an exhausted pant, your own voice crying out with exhaustion and fear. You have to make it. You can do it.

You dive into the tomb just milliseconds before a large solid rock closes off the entrance, separating you and the being. 

All is silent in the tomb. The rumbling ceases and the footsteps are long forgotten. When a shred of sense returns to you, you take the dying light of the burning flare to the wooden torches dotted around the tomb, not only giving light to the room but giving light to the very, very fucked up realisation you’ve just had. Four solid walls surround you. 

There’s no relief to be had, because although you had just escaped being crushed to death, you now face death in a far more morbid way. There isn’t another way out. You’re beginning to think that you’ve made yet another mistake; being crushed would’ve been a quick and painless death. Now, with no other means of escape, you’ll be subjected to a long, agonising, painful torment, forever waiting for the moment that starvation, thirst, suffocation and time consumes you.

You didn’t just enter any tomb, you entered your own tomb. 

“Fuck!” You scream, falling to your knees, already bloody, bruised and scraped but the pain doesn’t translate when you’re deep in despair. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” The walls swallow your cries, accepting your defeat. 

If it wasn’t for the situation you find yourself in, you would be revelling in the numerous pieces of ancient artefacts around you, gushing over the rusted gold that shines on the mantles on the walls, laughing with hysteria about how your discovery had just made you a thousand times richer. But no, all you can think about is how claustrophobic you feel, how your lungs burn in your chest and how you will never see the light of day again. 

You spare a thought to your parents whom you had failed to keep in contact with. For the first few months you kept it to just once a week; a picture of your face with an unidentifiable background and a message telling them you were safe. They learned pretty quickly after your sudden disappearance that you weren’t going to answer any of their questions and soon accepted that your weekly message would have to suffice. It was all they needed to know; you were okay and you were safe. Despite the numerous ‘how’s, ‘where’s, ‘what’s, and ‘when’s, there was only ever one ‘why’. 

‘Why did you do it?’ 

Your parents knew exactly why you fled on the day the British Museum had reported a missing bronze figure alongside a grainy picture of your profile captioned ‘number one suspect’, but the one little detail that left them mentally spiralling over their own parenting techniques, wondering where they went so wrong was…why? 

Why did you do it? 

Why indeed. 

The pencil, the pencil case, the rucksack, the purse, the £1.50, watches, jewellery, everything you had ever snagged in your life, was it all worth it? Was this your karma? 

You aren’t sure how much time has passed before you have no more tears left to cry. Completely numb from crying you come to a stand, quickly arriving at the anger stage in the five stages of grief over your own inevitable death. You begin kicking the sarcophagus, knocking things off the mantles and punching anything your fist can connect with with reckless abandon that you don’t even care for how much your temper tantrum is costing you. Everything hurts but you just. Don’t. Care. 

Hours later, exhaustion begins to creep up on you just when the fire of the torches begins to flicker to nothing and before they completely die out, you take one last look around your tomb. You think it’s been more than four hours now which means Amon will be long gone. You are all alone.

Lying in the corner surrounded by the remains of your temper tantrum with all hope lost, you close your eyes. 

~~~~

“Tut tut tut.” A male voice murmurs, arousing you from your slumber. The room is dark when your eyes flicker open, so it’s impossible to miss those glowing white eyes standing at the far end of the room. Fuck. Not again. They startle you so much they jolt your body to full attention, your chest feeling heavy as if you had been defibrillated back to life. “What a waste.” The footsteps lurk around the sarcophagus, scuffing against the shards of the ceramic artefacts you smashed earlier. How he can see, you have no idea. Yet, you still feel the need to push yourself further back against the wall.

You take a shaky breath, mustering the courage to speak. “Please…” The eyes sway casually as the being walks nearer, standing over you cowering in the corner. Before either of you say another word, something drops at your feet. It’s your rucksack. 

“Open it,” he instructs smoothly, a hint of an American twang interlacing his words. “It’s much too dark in here, and I’d prefer to see the fear in your eyes when you get what you deserve.”

Keeping your eyes rooted to the being in front of you, deja vu runs coldly through your veins as your hand sneaks into your rucksack to find the flare. However unlike last time, you’d rather face him in the dark, not a single cell in your body wishes to greet the mummified adonis standing inches before you, threatening you. 

“Go on,” he encourages, eyes flitting to your bag. He knows you don’t want to. It’s pitiful how much you don’t want to. 

When the red glow illuminates there you see him, in fact it’s all you can see. The intimidating being you had only seen for a split second before in full display. His silhouette is so all-encompassing, the red glow doesn’t reach far past him. He’s wrapped neatly in white bandages with gold embellishments on his chest with a flowing cape cascading down his back, resembling warrior regalia. Shadows flicker behind the contours of his hood that hangs over his masked face, giving away no emotion. Everything about him is a mystery and you can’t help but feel vulnerable knowing he can see everything about you, reading the terror in your eyes as if it was written out for him. 

You pull your legs to your chest as he crouches down, levelling with you. 

“I usually don’t deal with petty thieves until they start messing with things that shouldn’t be messed with.”

“Who are you? How did you get in here?” 

He chuckles menacingly, tilting his head. “Looking for an escape? Don’t bother. You won’t be leaving here. At least not until I’m done with you.” 

“What…” Your voice scrapes against your dry throat. It’s been hours since you last had a drop of water. “What are you going to do to me?” 

He doesn’t immediately respond, but instead looks into his own reflection in the gold plating of an artefact you smashed, muttering a tense “not now, Steven.” Steven? What? 

He turns back to you. “The same thing I did to your partner on the surface.” Amon. Shit! 

“Is…is he dead?” 

“Almost. I left him with just enough of a heartbeat to keep him alive, enough to teach him a lesson I know he will learn. You - however - I have no hope for.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you lie, “I was only exploring.” 

“Hmm, I highly doubt that - shut up Steven!” Your brows furrow with confusion, who the hell is Steven? Looking around, you can’t seem to see anyone else here in the room with you and this being. He doesn't give you a second to question his weird antics, coming very quickly to a stand with a grunt and pulling what looks like a gold, crescent shaped weapon from his chest and into his hand. “You’ve been thieving from the moment you knew you could. You know yourself you’re never going to change, so I’m here to put an end to it, to make sure you never get away with something like this again - dammit Steven, fine! But don’t let her get away. She’s mine.”

“What the fuck-” Before another word leaves your lips, the being morphs, or rather, his regalia does. The bandages unravel, withering away to reveal a white tux, donned by the same glowing eyes peering down at you. 

“Exploring, eh?”  

You’re taken aback by the minor change in his voice, his inflection. All Americanisms smoothly disappear and in place a British accent shapes his words. One that seems far too familiar for your liking…

“What…” 

“Gathering research for your school project?” He crouches down again, leaning closer and invading your space. “Or scouting the place out for a heist.” His tone isn't questioning anymore. They’re words of a statement, of a fact he knows is true. It’s really starting to shake your nerves. Something about all of this feels disconcerting. 

“Who the fuck are you?” 

“It’s a shame, really.” He stubbornly ignores your question, picking up a fractured piece of artefact. “This statue would’ve looked really nice on a living room mantle. Really would’ve spruced up the place.” 

Your heart stops and your breath catches in the back of your throat. The conversation throws you back into your memories, images of the British Museum flashes through your mind. The Egyptian exhibition. The bronze figure. The bumbling staff member who showed you it all. The name on his badge was…

“Steven.”

“Ah, so you do remember. See, you’re smarter than you look. That’s what fooled me all those years ago when you manipulated me into thinking you were just an innocent student looking to learn. You bloody well used me, didn’t you? Cost me my job.” 

“Look, Steven, I’m sorry, o-okay? I was young and stupid, I didn’t know-” 

“Young, yes. Stupid? No. You knew exactly what you were doing when you walked out with that figure. You knew exactly what you were doing when you stashed it in your bedroom walls. I looked everywhere for that statue, waiting for you to reveal where you hid it. And you fucking sold it!” So you weren’t seeing things that night. You know that feeling of being watched wasn’t just a figment of your imagination, it was Steven. “You knew what you were doing when you walked into this tomb. But I bet you don’t know whose tomb you walked into, or what ancient artefacts you recklessly broke. Still ‘willing to learn’? I hope so, ‘cos I think it’s fucking hilarious.” 

Steven comes to a stand and begins marching over to inspect the side of the sarcophagus. At that moment, the light of the flare illuminates the rest of the room and your eyes dart to the entrance where the stone that locked you in here no longer exists. How? Never mind. Survival first, question later. As ever, you take the opportunity and make a dash for the entrance, your legs a little lethargic from your lack of sustenance. 

Sadly, you only get so far. A broad arm wraps around your neck and pulls you flush against Steven’s body. “Ah, ah, ah. Not so fast.” His crushing strength borders dangerously between cutting off your oxygen but keeping you conscious enough to hear the words as he mutters them down your ear. “See this sarcophagus here? Do you know who it belongs to? 

“No!” You ball, kicking up a fight. You barely push him off-balance. “I don’t give a fuck, let me go!” 

“See this is why I find the irony of this hilarious. Go on, have a guess. I’m intrigued to see if you’re capable of learning a lesson.”

Steven man-handles you, gripping your jaw to fore to look at the large sarcophagus in front of you littered with inscriptions of a language you can’t translate and decorated with hieroglyphics you don’t understand. You get the feeling it’s something that Steven had already told you about during his ramblings at the museum. But he talked so much about shit you didn’t care for and you didn’t retain any information unless it had to do with its price. Fuck, whose sarcophagus is this? 

“I…I don’t know. Please, just let me go, I promise I won’t steal anymore.” You’re sobbing now, your tears rolling down your cheeks to be absorbed by Steven’s white suit. Frustrated, Steven tightens his hold on you.

“No, come on. Focus. I need to know that you didn’t just use me, I need to know I taught you something. Now what was it? I’ll give you a clue, it was one of the first things we talked about.”

Fuck. It was about some Ushabti thing, right? 

“The Ushabti?” 

“God, you butcher the pronunciation. But well done. The Ushabti of who?” 

You really can’t remember, and you feel it will be the death of you if you don’t. So overrun with hopelessness, you completely give in to defeat and fall weak in Steven’s arm. “I just want to go home.” 

“No, not the Ushabti of I-just-want-to-go-home. Who. Was. It?” 

Come on, think! Who was it? Da…Fa…Pa-something. Pa…Pa…

“I’m going to be reeaalllyyy disappointed if you don’t get this.” Steven’s harsh voice vibrates down your ear, his mask pressing firmly against the side of your ear. 

“Pa…”

“Yes?” 

“Pa-Di…” 

“Almost there, darlin’” 

Finally, the knowledge springs to life and the syllables roll off your tongue. “Pa-Di-Pep?” 

“See? You did know it, which means you’ll know what these inscriptions are on the side of this sarcophagus and on all the relics in this tomb, which means you know why I find this so funny.”

If you had the breath to sigh, you would. He’s right. You do know why. The scraps of information he fed you come whizzing back with a stab of irony. You understand it now. 

“Passages from the Book of the Dead, the intention of which was to secure safety for the deceased in the afterlife.” You relay his words back in your voice, Steven chuckling maniacally behind you.

“And you just broke them all. Bad luck, eh? No safe passage to the afterlife for you. My buddy Marc will make sure of it. If you haven’t already realised, I’m the brains of this body. Marc is the brawn. Never misses a kill that one. Do you, Marc?” 

Steven suddenly shuffles behind you, maintaining that iron steel grip he has around your throat. When the material of the mask traces the shell of your ear and his voice returns, his tone has changed. Deeper, lower, threatening. 

American. 

“Kind of you to say, Steven. Y’know, it’s a shame Steven isn’t kind enough to let you live. So, little thief, what’ll it be? Shall I kill you where you stand, or do you want to join Pa-Di-Pep in his sarcophagus?” 

[drifting-pieces-blog-blog]

Marc Spector: based on a real guy?

I would like to propose Barney "Beryl" Ross (born Dov-Ber Rasofsky) (1909-1967) as a stand-in for possible Marc Spector inspiration or at least a REALLY odd coincidence. The parallels are outstanding.

Born to Eastern European Immigrant parents (From Belarus), he grew up in a tough Chicago neighborhood. 

His father was a Rabbi who looked down on fighting like Boxing and Wrestling. 

When Barney expressed interest and talent in boxing, his father told him to "Let the goyim be the fighters" and that "The trombeniks (yiddish for phony and self aggrandizer), the murderers--We are the scholars." 

Barney studied the Talmud as well and expressed interest in becoming a teacher. 

His father was murdered when someone robbed their family vegetable shop. His mother suffered a mental breakdown and his three younger siblings were sent to an orphanage when Barney was just 14. 

Barney became a thief, a gambler, and worked for Al Capone. He eventually found his money in boxing where it is speculated that Al Copone himself often promoted his shows and bought up the tickets to help him make money. 

He used the money to reunite his family. 

His career took off during the rise of Antisemitism and while Barney rejected his father's teachings and religion, he understood that he was seen as a "scrappy Jew Kid" and he needed to become a representative for his people. 

His walk into the ring song was "My Yiddishe Momma" and he often wore blue and white with the Magen David on his clothes. 

In the ring himself, he became a world champion in three weight divisions. He was never knocked out. 

His last match before he retired he went 15 rounds where he took a severe beating. His couch begged him to call it, but he refused to go down. He was determined to leave the ring on his own feet". He had 72 wins in his career, 22 of which were by K.O. 

When WWII broke out, he joined the Marines. Because of his stardome, they tried to keep him as just a pretty poster face recruit, but he insisted on fighting. 

He was almost court-martialed when his commanding officer called him a Jewish Slur and he punched him out. He was spared because the judge was also jewish. 

Barney was sent to the Pacific Theater and fought at Guadalcanal where he single handedly fought off no less than five armed Japanese soldiers after being shot. He then rescued his fellow soldier by carrying them to safety. He was awarded the Silver Star. 

Despite his complicated relationship with his religion, he was known for bringing his father's religious study books with him to training camp. 

In the war, he made friends with a catholic priest who invited him to Christmas Dinner. Barney could play the pipe organ and he provided music for the soldiers. When asked to play something Jewish, he played "My Yiddishe Momma" that left everyone in tears. 

After his wounds healed, he developed a morphine addiction that he went to rehab for and eventually recovered. He went to schools and campaigned about the dangers of drug abuse. 

He worked hard for the creation of a Jewish State and offered to lead a brigade of Jewish American Veterans. 

The Jewish Community saw him as a hero and with his back story, he fit the bill of superhero status. 

A tragic backstory, rejection of his father's life and teachings, rising up out of the rough streets, becoming a fighter, and eventually a real life war hero and fighter for Jewish Rights. 

(Check out his biography- Barney Ross: The Life of a Jewish Fighter, by Douglas Century and his autobiography No Man Stands Alone.) 

Moench most certainly did not base Marc Spector off of Barney Ross. He didn't set about making the character obviously Jewish at first. It happened naturally for various other reasons. 

But Moench also didn't give Marc his back story. 

That would be Zelenetz. 

Moon Knight Vol 1. Issue #37.  Published 1984

Writer: Alan Zelenetz

Artist: Bo Hampton

Cover Artist: Michael Kaluta 

Now, I've broken this comic down before. HERE. But let's talk about the importance of THIS story. 

You see, after the war, no one wanted to talk about the Holocaust. Most survivors didn't want to talk about what they had been through and most others liked to pretend that nothing happened. 

It wasn't until the 90s that they came up with an actual mandate that it be taught in schools! 

It wasn't until then that it suddenly became apparent that we needed to hear from the survivors and we needed to record the history before the first hand accounts were lost. 

Until this time, the only stories being told were done in comics. 

Early comics used it as a grotesque way to add in horror and action and violence. When the Comic book code of ethics stepped in (big shot guys that put down the law for swears being &#^$% and no sex and violence rating systems), then comic writers found 'creative' ways to use Nazi as the villain and ambiguously talk about their targets without mentioning their actual crimes or the people they targeted. 

THAT would change when Spiegelman's Maus was published in 1980. 

A keen observer will note the date Moon Knight Vol 1 came out. November 1980! 

Now, Marc has fought Neo Nazi before and has even faced antisemitism. He's even gone to Jerusalem. But we have never had Marc connected to the Holocaust or explored his Jewish past before Zelenetz told this story. 

“I grew up on the poor side of Chicago. My father was unconcerned with material things. ‘God loves a poor man.’ He’d say. ‘Poor in goods, rich in spirit.’” 

Sounds familiar, right? 

 And while Marc is an extreme example, we see the conflict with the Rabbi father and the son who wants to fight. 

In this same issue we see Moon Knight rescue a Rabbi and Torah from a burning synagogue that has a Swastika painted on the door. 

Moon Knight hunts down the Nazi punks and makes them hurt. 

In this issue and the next, we see Marc deal with his conflicted past regarding religion, his Rabbi father, and his choice to fight vs his father’s choice to ‘leave it to god’. 

We also find out in this issue that the reason Marc joined the Marines is because of his father’s rejection. 

"To become Moon Knight--A social conscience and moral force. Just, severe, unknowable." 

I won't replay the comic for you guys, as I've already reviewed it (though I've learned a LOT since then and I'm sure I could bring more things to light at this point... Like the fact that to bring Elias back from the dead they write the Hebrew word Emet 'truth' on his forehead. Marlene erases part of the word, leaving behind Met, which is Hebrew for 'To Die' and this sends him back to his death). 

In the ending issue, and last issue of Moon Knight’s first run, we are left with: 

"I may have misjudged my father's saintliness for cowardice and his genius and moral zeal for fanaticism. [...] And isn't moon knight in his own way a moral zealot fighting perhaps for the very same values Marc Spector once rejected?" 

Back to Alan Zelentez. 

Alan only had Moon Knight for a few issues, but he was the first and as far as my limited research has shown me, the only actually Jewish writer to get to work with Moon Knight (I hope I am pleasantly surprised as I get further into things...but I'm not holding my breath). 

Zelenetz fit a LOT of Jewish lore and fun snippets into this comic that only those that have studied Jewish folklore and the culture would easily pick out. 

He was a Junior High School and High school principal at an Orthodox Jewish school in Brooklyn. 

He worked as an editor, script writer, Judica advisor for film and helped get a few other comics started and established. 

Now, is it likely that a Jewish man in Brooklyn heard about the son of a Rabbi from Eastern Europe in Chicago who turned into an amazing boxer and later a Marine war hero? Only Zelenetz knows for sure. 

[datcloudboi]

List of Video Games Turning 10 Years Old in 2024

Alien: Isolation

Assassin's Creed: Rogue (the one where you play as an Assassin turned Templar.)

Assassin's Creed: Unity (the one set during the French Revolution.)

Atelier Escha & Logy: Alchemists of the Dusk Sky

Azure Striker Gunvolt

The Banner Saga

Bayonetta 2

The Binding of Isaac: Rebirth

BioShock Infinite: Burial at Sea (the DLC where you go back to Rapture)

A Bird Story (a sort of spin-off of "To the Moon")

BlazBlue: Chrono Phantasma

Borderlands: The Pre-Sequel! (is this a sequel to 1 or a prequel to 1? I forgor)

Bravely Default (in North America)

Broken Sword 5: The Serpent's Curse

Call of Duty: Advanced Warfare (the one with K*vin Sp*cey)

Captain Toad: Treasure Tracker

Castlevania: Lords of Shadow 2 (to date, the last new Castlevania game to release)

Child of Light

The Crew (going offline at the end of March)

D4: Dark Dreams Don't Die (a wonderfully strange game from the guy that made Deadly Premonition)

Danganronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc (in North America)

Danganronpa 2: Goodbye Despair (in North America)

Dark Souls II

Deception IV: Blood Ties

Demon Gaze

Diablo III: Reaper of Souls

Disney Infinity 2.0

Divinity: Original Sin (from the team that would go on to make Baldur's Gate 3)

Donkey Kong Country: Tropical Freeze

Dragon Age: Inquisition (the winner of GOTY at the very first TGAs)

Drakengard 3

Earth Defense Force 2025 (EDF! EDF! EDF!)

The Evil Within (from the creative director of Resident Evil)

Fable Anniversary

Fairy Fencer F

Far Cry 4

Freedom Planet

Guilty Gear Xrd Sign

Hyrule Warriors

Inazuma Eleven (in North America. And digital only.)

Infamous: Second Son (as well as its expansion, First Light)

Kirby: Triple Deluxe

The Last of Us Remastered (just one year after the original version came out...)

The Legend of Korra (the game from PlatinumGames that you can't buy anymore)

Lego Batman 3: Beyond Gotham

Lego The Hobbit

The Lego Movie Videogame

Lethal League (from the team that would go on to make Bomb Rush Cyberfunk)

Lightning Returns: Final Fantasy XIII (the third and final chapter of the Final Fantasy XIII trilogy)

Lisa: The Painful (yes, really)

LittleBigPlanet 3

Lords of the Fallen (not to be confused with Lords of the Fallen, which came out in 2023)

Mario Golf: World Tour

Mario Kart 8 (the original version)

Metal Gear Solid: Ground Zeroes (the prologue to Metal Gear Solid V: The Phantom Pain, which came out 18 months later)

Middle-Earth: Shadow of Mordor

Might & Magic X: Legacy

Murdered: Soul Suspect (it's like Ghost Trick: Phantom Detective, but not as good)

Natural Doctrine

Oddworld: New 'n' Tasty! (a from the ground up remake of the first Oddworld game from 1997)

Pac-Man and the Ghostly Adventures 2 (yes, it got a sequel. I don't know how or why.)

Persona 4 Arena Ultimax

Persona Q: Shadow of the Labyrinth

Pokemon Omega Ruby & Pokemon Alpha Sapphire

Professor Layton and the Azran Legacy (the last time that Professor Layton himself was the protagonist. At least, until the New World of Steam comes out)

Professor Layton vs. Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney

Pushmo World

Risen 3: Titan Lords

Sacred 3

Samurai Warriors 4

Shadowrun: Dragonfall

Shantae and the Pirate's Curse (the 3rd one)

Sherlock Holmes: Crimes and Punishments

Shovel Knight (yes, really)

Skylanders: Trap Team (the 4th one)

Sniper Elite III

Sonic Boom: Rise of Lyric

Sonic Boom: Shattered Crystal

South Park: The Stick of Truth

Steins;Gate (in North America)

Strider (the one from Double Helix)

Sunset Overdrive

Super Smash Bros. for Wii U and Nintendo 3DS (or Smash 4 for short)

Tales of Xillia 2

Tales of Hearts R

The Talos Principle

Theatrhythm Final Fantasy: Curtain Call

Thief (the reboot)

This War of Mine

Toukiden: The Age of Demons

Transformers: Rise of the Dark Spark (this game merged the storyline of the War for/Fall of Cybertron games with the storyline of the Michael Bay movies. I’m not joking)

Transistor

Valiant Hearts: The Great War

The Vanishing of Ethan Carter

The Walking Dead: Season Two

Wasteland 2

Watch Dogs

The Witch and the Hundred Knight

The Wolf Among Us (sequel this year!)

Wolfenstein: The New Order

Yaiba: Ninja Gaiden Z

Yoshi's New Island

[edi-storm]

I’m a simple gal I see GOT au and DC and I come RUNNING!!!! I’ve tried developing my own DC x GoT au and id love to hear more if you want to share!!!

I have a few ideas floating around my head for some of the batfam characters, nothing too concrete tho.

I imagine Bruce to be a lord of the north (mainly because I feel like the north fits gotham and the atmosphere the best. Something about all the dark clothing just fits the grim vibes) although I got a good comment talking about his no kill rule! So perhaps he could be like all edgy no kill because of his parents being dead. Alfred is an ex knight for the throne , also friends with his father that became his personal guard , and after Bruce s parents were murdered, chose to take care and raise Bruce in the North.

Dick's family was part of a travelling performers group travelling around Westeros. Bruce happened to pass by and notice one of their shows, I imagine his parents being killed or something just like Bruce's, then Bruce starts his orphan adopting hobby and takes Dick in.

Jason's father was part of a thief gang to try to provide a better life for his family. This works for a while until they get caught and imprisoned/ killed by whoever busts then/ something. Catherine Todd dies or an illness. Jason is left fending for his own, starts pickpocketing. Bruce finds him while he's trying to steal something packed on his horse and ends up adopting him. Still working on his death/ resurrection (I feel like they're a big part of his character and I want to add that)

Tim's parents were merchants. Possibly knew Bruce . Tim was a secret dick fanboy because of his traveling performer era (thought he was really cool and badass). Some more death and adoption.

I haven't fully thought about Damian s backstory yet and the relationship between Talia and Bruce, since I like the idea of them being from Essos , but that's what i have for him so far. Speaking high Valyrian and some other languages, accent while speaking in English ✨

I haven't come up with anything for Cass, Steph and duke yet

[proserpinesprankster]

Talk about your fantrolls NOWWWW!!!!!!!!!!!!

ALRIGHTY BITCHES. So note that some have more iterations than others and im prolly gonna fix up the less refined ones AS I AM TALKING.

Ill add a cut because theres so fucking much of them.

Feel free to ask more questions i love my sillies!!!

Lets go in order of caste, therefore...

FIRST OF ALL! Nihila Umbrax, the Knight of Void, Derse sway, Burgundy Blood.

Nihila is a burgundy who was less fortunate at wriggling to say the least. They have multiple significant mutations, their eyes are solid red and their height is comparable to that of an older purpleblood, aswell as large mothlike wings. All of this and its seclusion in the woods has led to it being mystified as a local cryptid, the fact that its horns are shaped like antennae does not help the mothman allegations. Beneath all of this Nihila is overall just a big clumsy blind individual, they like to tinker with electronics and usually end up dumpster diving to salvage parts. They were most likely the troll who got SGrub up and working for the group, but its cryptid nature is not at all ceased during the game. Bowkind Strife.

Next we have Squash Tapeko, the Bard of Space, Prospit sway, Bronze Blood.

Squash is a bit of an anomaly in general, being that he operates outside of the typical laws of space and time. Paradox space and Squash get along like two peas in a pod, or more aptly two pumpkins in a patch, while normal space seems to avoid him like the plague. Hes always wearing those tacky shades that have the lines and stuff, and only has one horn which curls like a stem. Anyone accquainted with the laws of paradox space can tell in an instant this goofy goober is like a pumpkin given physical form. He likes to garden, usually growing squashes for later use as plot devices. Sodakind Strife.

Next! Aureum Crisia, the Maid of Light, Derse Sway, Gold Blood.

Aureum has little to no psiioniics despite being a goldblood, she's insecure for obvious reasons. She compensates with over the top optimism, though in truth she is a realist who never waits for things to fall into her hand. She has spent her whole life using charisma and wit to work her way into alternian business, despite the prejudice shown by higher classes. She can be a bit shady sometimes, but she refuses to take any disrespect. Coinkind Strife.

Beitah Bliuta, the Sylph of Breath, Prospit Sway, Olive Blood.

Beitah is close with Nihila, shes shared purr hive with them for as long as they can remember, practically siblings. Their hive is rudimentary regardless, mostly a well decorated cavern. Beitah is overall playful and childish, and the youngest of the group. She is also however a bit feral, for lack of a better word, most view purr as just overall weird for any of these things. Beitah is smaller than most of the others and wears baggy clothes constantly.

Raekie Venaer, the Rogue of Doom, Prospit Sway, Jade Blood.

Raekie likes to call themself a poet, followed by a murder of crow lusii constantly. They didn't favor life in the brooding caverns and instead live in a makeshift treehouse they ended up making after running away. They don't live in the same area as Beitah and Nihila but they do exchange tips through Trollian, and of course Raekie shares their cheesy poetry. Despite the gothic aesthetic Raekie is a terminal optimist, and knows good and well how cheesy their poetry is. Penkind Strife.

Terrun Biyiga, the Thief of Life, Prospit Sway, Teal Blood.

Terrun hates his own caste, plain and simple, mostly because of having lower class friends and realizing he was a part of the problem. He internalizes this hatred as of the start of the session, simply playing along. He has a certain level of internalized self hate, but covers all of this up with a hero complex and cowboy accent. Revolverkind Strife.

Now for a real interesting one, Celare Scurra, the Mage of Mind, Derse Sway, Cerulean Blood.

Celare Scurra is actually not 100% a troll. She always seems oddly well dressed, and never removes her gloves. On Derse, you may hear a whistling of a familiar tune, though back on Alternia it's less well known. Celare Scurra has joined The Midnight Crew on Derse. By some twist of fate, her body has a hint of Carapacian, which has shrouded half of her dreamself in black. She serves as a villain for this story, overall. Bit of a bitch, but unlike Vriska she doesn't flaunt it. Cardkind Strife.

Kirkor Stilis, the Heir of Heart, Prospit Sway, Indigo Blood.

Kirkor isn't the brightest, but he's sure lovable. Hes the only one even close to matching Nihila's height, and serves as Aureum's bodyguard at times as a result, warding off anyone who would threaten her due to his sheer scale. Theres some sort of moiraillegiac tension there, probably. Overall he serves as, well, the heart of the group. Hes also just very clumsy, someone give the 7 foot tall pair some dexterity. Hammerkind.

Manika Dexsue, the Witch of Hope, Derse Sway, Purple Blood.

Manika gets her kicks in a different way from most purplebloods, she usually only dresses up in the full clown getup for formal stuff. Normally shes wearing a dirty jumpsuit and rubber gloves with a purple gas mask, inviting Nihila over for their latest biomechanical experiment. Nibies' arm tends to end up the test subject. Manika is overall just a short mad scientist, and of course besties with Nihila. Sawkind / Needlekind Strife.

Sourim Paetel, the Seer of Blood, Derse Sway, Violet Blood.

Sourim is a socially inept hopeless romantic. He knows how to interact with high troll society... And thats about it. He's all prose and pretty words, with no real awareness of the state of things. He loves rainbow drinker literature, and this was why he first took an interest in Raekie, and then fell HARD. The fact that he has no social awareness makes flirting difficult, aswell as the fact that he takes Raekie's poetry seriously and Raekie doesn't take his seriously. Theyre both idiots with romance. Rapierkind Strife.

Ossico Blakke, Prince of Rage, Derse Sway, Fuchsia Blood.

Ossico is constantly tired, quick to anger if awoken from a good nap. Overall the whole group knows she has some anger issues to work through, but she cares deeply about her friends and is a sweetheart when shes calm. She is a force of raw destruction with a love for all things cutesy and brightly colored, and ducks. Furniturekind Strife.

Nibies Dulcis, Page of Time, Prospit Sway, Cotton Candy Blood.

Nibies was claimed by a purpleblood cult before she could be culled, and was worshipped as the avatar of their god, this was not a good thing for her. Eventually she did make it out and meet Manika, theyve got some sort of undisclosed redrom going on there, noones really sure. Nibies also hates Celare for an unknown reason, and its rather obvious theyve got some blackrom tension. Nibies is silly and over the top to make up for Manika's lack of clown behavior, with a very intense sweet tooth. She probably would have gone entirely mad if not for this group, and Manika and Nihila made her a prosthetic arm to replace the one she lost. Sweetskind Strife.

[nthspecialll]

The Lady Of The Manor

The Lady Of The Manor is a book written in red dead two by Mary-Beth and as the nerd I am I read the one chapter we have access to. Overall it is a story about the fair lady Susan Grade whose husband was murdered by the criminal David Vincent, however she falls in love with him, and in this book there are some striking similarities to the gang.

Firstly, the names, the very first thing I noticed was the fact that Susan Grade and David Vincent sound a lot like Susan Grimshaw and Dutch Van Der Linde and the fact that their personalities match as well. Susan is an independent woman who is fair but strict, David is criminal but he is charismatic and it is made quite clear in the story things are not the way that they look.

We don't know a lot about Grimshaw's past but we do know she had a fiance who died and whom she loved, I cannot say that the characters are a representation of what really happened between Dutch and Susan and her fiance, but it is Mary-Beth that Susan talks about her him with.

In the story, we are also introduced to Mr. Mellon who is a police officer, again the name matches up to Agent Milton and Mellon actually proposes an offer similar to Milton. Telling the David character that if he surrenders then maybe he could survive and not get executed, similar to Milton offering to Dutch that if he surrenders then the gang might be allowed to go.

Another interesting thing about Mellon is that while he is a police officer he is described as "the most hated and feared man in all of England" and David, a criminal who is "the most wanted man in England and France" is seen as charismatic and noble, which reflects the way Mary-Beth viewed the law as a criminal herself.

David also lets Susan know that it is actually in fact not him that Mellon wants dead but Susan due to the fact that it would rise Mellon in the hierarchy, while it does not reflect what happened with Grimshaw and Dutch, it reminded me of "it is you they want Dutch" "always is" although Susan replied "me?"

As previously mentioned, it becomes clear that the situation with the dead husband isn't as seemed, because you get hinted at the fact that the husband might have been a bad dude and that David killed him to protect Susan, this is quite similar to how Dutch kills when he sees a cause in it and that they both love to save pretty ladies in need.

Another link between David and Dutch is the very last line "David Vincent smiled and led the lady away across the rooftop of the castle, to the safety in the islands," a dream very similar to the one that Dutch fed the gang with Tahiti and the pacifics.

Now to a few smaller things I found interesting, the line "I am a thief, a murderer, a sinner and your only hope of survival, follow me" which immediately made me think of the line that Arthur spoke to Sadie int he first chapter where he tells her "we are bad men, but we aren't them."

Secondly, we have "Susan Grade, born a peasant and risen up to the lady of the manor," a line which would not reflect Grimshaw but instead Mary-beth who was a run away and a gang member for many years but in the end got a big house with beautiful decorations due to her books.

Lastly, a few lines I found interesting and found too meaningful to mean nothing but can't quite put my finger on.

"She would destoy David Vincent in order to stop loving him." I find it quite chilling especially when those two characters have so much in common with Dutch and Grimshaw.

"David Vincent, the infamous Black Knight." Black Knight? Calling someone a Black Knight means someone who "[...] is a literary stock character who masks his identity and that of his liege by not displaying heraldry," aka a person who hides their identity so that their acts are not traced back to them. Dutch was, as John said, "quite a colorful character" going directly against the Black Knight idea, however that said there were many years in which it seemed Dutch did in fact not do any crimes. Or who knows, maybe he did? With a character that is so based on a person Mary-Beth had known it seems strange to put something that is so out of line for them.

This conversation "I am sorry about your husband but it was a fair fight," "a fair fight? You shot him in the back!" "I never did but we shall come to that later." A reminder that her husband was not yet cold, meaning it happened recently, and if she is there so soon she was most likely also in the area while it happened. Did she not see what happened but assumed that David shot her husband in the back?

[asexxxualerotica]

OC Muse List

~Dungeons & Dragons Muses~

Asterion Labrynthia: Minotaur prince in banishment from his kingdom. Quiet and gentle despite the great power and strength he wields. On a path of vengeance to avenge his killed parents.

Branwen Black: Ranger from the far north, raised and taught by an elite squad of mercenaries and huntsmen known as the Blackguard. Has a strangely innate connection to ravens and wolves.

Clover Brandyburke: Lagomore knight in service to a powerful archfey. On a quest to avenge his honor after his fiance left him on the altar. Serious and severe, and also naive to the mortal world.

Dariax Dendarrow: Goliath former bandit chief, abandoned after a disgraceful defeat to a young adventurer. Seeking to grow stronger to challenge the young adventurer again and defeat him.

The Devils of Emon: Based out of the Exandrian city of Emon, a band of adventurers named such for the surprisingly high number of tieflings in their crew.

Aquamarine: Tiefling rogue with ambitions to be the best thief in the region. Came to Emon and was immediately arrested for pickpocketing. Has an affinity for gems and trinkets.

Gamora Great-Bear: Orc warrior woman on a mission to find love, but just finding powerful monsters to defeat. Was similarly arrested, this time for exhibitionism, which she will do again.

Jeanne Ironwood: Woman driven by losses in her childhood to dragons. Trained by Percy DeRolo as an expert gunslinger and markswoman, and known for her cold and calculating demeanor.

Kyrie Targana: Tiefling performer who lost her arms to an abusive slaver. Was previously in a circus troupe with Omega and Thorne, and is now in a romantic relationship with Scourge.

Omega: Tiefling magician in a heated relationship with his succubus patron. Younger brother of Thorne. Definitely the most problem-attracting member of the crew.

Captain Scourge Maelstrom: Tiefling pirate captain and champion of the seas. Unofficial leader of the Devils, and the founding member. Captain of The Sea Devil, and tends to stay on his ship.

Thorne: Tiefling brawler known for getting drunk and getting into fights. Older brother of Omega. The most bristly member of the crew, often gets into fights with Jeanne late into the night.

Varris Alwyn: Tiefling warrior in loyal service to the Everlight. Seemingly ageless, and has a constant bet in the background by the rest of the Devils over whether he's really a dragon or an angel.

Verdant Wilde: Tiefling huntsman trained personally by Vex'ahlia DeRolo. Sent to Emon to keep an eye on things in Greystone Keep. Ended up forming a new adventuring crew alongside Jeanne.

Galatea the Golden-Scaled: Gladiatrix known for her gleaming golden battlekini. Left her life in the arena after repelling a raid on the city, seeing she could set out and do good elsewhere.

Jade Higurashi: Tiefling monk who was previously training to become a powerful sage for a local temple. After being thrown out, she turned to drinking and fighting to fill the gap they left.

Jaerik Aldraeyds: Changeling on a mission to find her true father in the Feywild. Unfortunately, her own naturally high libido and trend for falling to her enemy's lusts has delayed her quest incredibly.

Khadamori the Unbroken: Ulitharid warrior who was held in bondage by his own kin for most of his life. Eventually broke free and became a liberation leader, fighting to free slaves throughout the Underdark.

Korrin Vasailiis: Elven sorceress who made a deal with a demon to survive a horrible fate, and became a vampire in the process. Now on a quest to find new purpose, as her life is even longer than expected.

Lorelei Astolas: Tiefling lady of the night based out of Emon, a long-time rival and long-distance friend of the Ruby of the Sea. Known similarly as the Lady of Pearls for her pearlescent skintone.

Peregrine Weis: Tiefling warrior woman who was once a faithful weapon for a zealous church, but left when they murdered her wife. Now trying to make up for her loss, and find who she is without faith.

Riot Doomthighs: Goblin bard with a love for heavy metal music and a wild devotion to the death god Xyrnyxrys. Also known for wearing very suggestive (but still protective) armors during her performances.

Serena Clyffe: Former noble lady who fled her home after accidentally frying her would-be betrothed with lightning. Now on the run from the law, and experiencing the world for the first time. Absolutely loves storm chasing.

Terra Verdell: Wood elven druid who has never lived in high society and wants to experience all that she can of it. Left her home in the forests to seek fun. Has found plenty by way of encounters with monsters along the way.

Twilight Obsidia: Tiefling from the Shadowfell who left her abusive family to seek a better life. Currently trying to live her life as a witch in the woods, doing good for the locals and farmers.

Variax Frosthollow: White dragonborn warrior, strongest in his clan, with a destiny to become a true dragon. Was the son of a dragon himself, but was only a dragonborn rather than his true heir.

Velvetina Gingersnaps: Lagomore witch from the Feywild with a desire to see the world. Also with a desire to avoid all of the felonies and fines waiting for her in the Feywild for her past antics.

Wilder Evergreen: Tiefling-orc huntsman with a bone to pick with an archfey. Grew up in woods that neighbored the Feywild, and his sisters were taken when wandering in them. Out for blood.

Willow Wellmeadow: Lagomore druid settled in the mortal plane. Protector of the dense woodlands and warden of a portal to the Feywild. Tends to be kind and welcoming to visitors.

Xakos Duskwalker: Half-orc gunslinger and gunmaker. Studied in ancient artificing and restoration of mythical mechanisms. Had his research stolen and spread out, and is out to take it back.

Yora Vor'ziira: Dark elf rogue who was kept as a slave by her own kind and forced to fight in bloody combats. Was eventually helped free by a human slave, and now wanders the surface world seeking a home.

Zhekhar O'Shevaqt: Efreet lord, master of slaves and of coin in the City of Brass. Known for being incredibly charismatic and devilishly handsome. Also known for spoiling his toys utterly rotten.

Zurrak Hellbellows: Red Dragon, often in a human guise. Considered the King of Dragons, and reigns from a long-dormant volcano he has fashioned into a castle. Intent on conquest, and claiming more wealth.