#the title of this wip is live robin reaction
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Ghost!Robin Part 8
Look at you lucky ducks! Two WIP Wednesday excerpts today! I'm afraid you won't be able to get used to it. Going forward I may update each fic on alternating weeks. I have a busy few months coming up if everything goes to plan and could use the buffer in case I can't get much writing done. We'll see, though.
I'm going to start leaving a fic summary at the beginning of every excerpt in case people find this in the wild and want to know what they're getting into.
Summary: Danny is finally going to meet Jazz's boyfriend Jason. At Jason's family's mansion. He spent weeks making sure he could have an evening off of any Ghost King business. But when he meets Jason on the steps of the mansion, he can barely pay attention to the guy because his focus is on the ghost of the dead Robin hanging off his shoulders. Who is very happy to find someone who can actually see him.
Word Count: 1.4k
First, Previous
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“Right. Um… Well, I do just kinda do whatever is necessary or find someone who can. Because, um, well, I’m… kinda the High King of the Infinite Realms? There’s a bunch more titles after that but I refuse to memorize them because ugh.”
Danny looked down at his plate, not wanting to see everyone’s reactions. Jazz must’ve made sure he got a piece of pie because it sat in front of him. It looked so good. Did they even know about the Infinite Realms? Justice League Dark members did, but did Batman? Jazz reached over and took his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
Tim and Barbara’s typing seemed to get faster. And then a pair of pixie boots and legs settled on the table next to his plate. He looked up and met Robin’s eyes.
Robin reached out an poked Danny on the nose. He gave a little trill of safe, friends drawing a smile out of Danny.
At the same time, Duke exclaimed, “That’s why you have a crown!”
And Steph said, “Okay, I may be out of the loop, but what the hell are the Infinite Realms?”
Damian snorted. “Aren’t you too young to be a king of anything?”
Danny half stood. “Look, do you want to go spar or something? Is that why you keep picking fights? Because we can do that. Fighting is good for young liminals. But I really don’t think this is the time or place.”
Jazz groaned and dragged him back into his seat. “Stop it, Danny. You’re on Earth right now.” Speaking over Danny’s protests, she explained to Damian, “We wish. Managed to get them to delay until he turned eighteen at least, but his grandfather wouldn’t let us wait any longer than that.”
Danny let the fight drop, but he did notice how Damian’s grip on his spoon tightened. Looked like they would be having that spar tonight if Damian had anything to say about it. Still, Jazz was right and he had to follow human customs on Earth so he bumped his sister’s shoulder and spoke to her instead. “You know as well as I do that he would’ve if it was possible. But thanks to Pariah, there are things that haven’t been done in a thousand years and it’s been causing so many problems.”
“Steph,” said Barbara. “The Infinite Realms are the spaces between universes according to Constantine. His documentation states that the Realm’s inhabitants are all incredibly overpowered and should not be approached under any circumstances. Just one being can evade all methods of capture with standard supplies.”
Jazz nodded. “And our parents dedicated their lives to building a portal to the Infinite Realms, or the Ghost Zone as they call it, and destroying all ghosts.”
“By ‘ghosts,’” asked Bruce, “Do you mean beings from these Infinite Realms?”
Jazz nodded. “Yes. Most beings from the Infinite Realms come into being when a living creature dies in a traumatic way, with a lot of emotion, or near a large source of ectoplasm. Usually some combination of all three.”
Both Tim and Bruce tried to ask further questions, but Jason’s voice cut in over theirs. “Jazz, when you say your parents wanted to ‘destroy all ghosts,’ did they stop after Danny’s accident?” Jason’s question did, at least, cause silence to fall as everyone stared at the two siblings.
Jazz looked down and gripped the tablecloth tightly, jaw clenched. Now it was Danny’s turn to lay a comforting hand over hers.
“No,” Danny said. “They didn’t. They didn’t know what happened for several years and when they found out… Well, there’s a reason I can’t use their last name and Jazz won’t call them ‘Mom’ or ‘Dad’ anymore. But”—Danny clapped his hands—“this is a great segway into what is actually important. Does the Justice League know about the Guys in White? More formally known as the Ghost Investigation Ward? Or even just GIW?”
“That name is unfamiliar to me,” said Bruce.
Tim agreed. “Babs and I aren’t seeing anything in the JL databases.”
Even Robin just shrugged.
Danny didn’t expect the jolt of pain that sent through his chest and Jazz turned their hands around until they were gripping each other’s hands with more force than any baseline human would’ve been able to.
“I told you, Danny. They didn’t know. They didn’t know.” Her eyes were wet, but she forced a shaky smile. “You could’ve had help.”
Danny just shook his head. “Even if I had believed they didn’t know… Without meeting them, without knowing how many of their own were in danger, I would’ve never trusted them. Too many people rely on me for me to risk it.”
“Care to enlighten the rest of us?” asked Dick. His posture was relaxed, but his voice had an edge that hadn’t been there earlier.
Robin nodded from where he sat staring at Danny. He sent out a questioning Danger? pulse at Danny.
“Yeah, danger,” agreed Danny. “Barbara, Tim, if I give you a law code number, can you pull up the law I’m referring to?”
“Of course,” agreed Barbara. “Just a moment… And shoot.”
Danny gave them the code for the Anti-Ecto Acts. “The Guys in White are the government agency responsible for enforcing the Anti-Ecto Acts which classify all ‘ectoplasmic entities’”—he made the air quotes—“as non-sentient and non-sapient and excludes us from the metahuman protection acts.”
“What the fuck!” shouted Duke.
Next to Danny, Dick suddenly was sitting up tense. “That’s impossible.”
“The league would’ve noticed such an act being passed,” said Damian, though he didn’t look as sure as his words would seem.
Cass merely tilted her head and looked at him while Steph choked on her drink.
Bruce looked to Tim and Barbara. “Is this true?” he asked them.
Robin pointed to himself and mouthed the word ‘Me?’ at Danny.
“I’m afraid so. And Bruce, Cass, Steph, and Damian as well.”
Dick’s spluttering got louder. “How are they all in danger?” he demanded to know.
Before Danny could reply, Tim was speaking. “It’s all true. And far worse than Danny implied. Not only are ecto-entities not protected by the metahuman protection laws, but they are to be actively hunted and turned over to the GIW for experimentation and extermination and anyone who assists them is declared guilty of treason.”
“When did they pass?” asked Bruce.
“Four years ago,” said Barbara. “While Luthor was president. They were hidden in some laws about green energy.”
“Ghost are made of ectoplasm,” explained Jazz. “Ectoplasm is a fantastic energy source.”
“It happened a few months after I defeated the previous king but before my coronation,” added Danny.
“Why do you think myself, Damian, Cass, Stephanie, and Jason will be targeted by this Ghost Investigation Ward?”
“It’ll be easier to show you.” Danny reached down and pulled up his bag. The thing was made in Pandora’s realm and was bigger on the inside. Once open, it took him a moment to find what he was looking for. He could see Robin signing to the group next to him. “Here we are,” Danny said as he pulled out three devices. “These are all different ectoplasm detection devices. One is my own design, one is the Guys in White’s design, and one is my parent’s design. I’ll show you mine first because it’s the best.”
“Might be a dumb question,” started Dick, “but what the hell is ectoplasm?”
“So you know how all the elements in this universe came about from nuclear fusion of hydrogen in the cores of stars?” asked Danny. When most everyone nodded, he continued, “In the Infinite Realms, that base element is ectoplasm. But there’s no need for a star to transform it into anything else. It will mold to the shape any consciousness that interacts with it wants. When sentient creatures slip through, either by a portal or through death or any other means, they shape the part of the Realm they’re in to their will. The stronger the ghost, the larger the area they control.” Holding out his hands, Danny called forth a ball of ectoplasm, shaping it into a glowing-green ice duck. “Something like this,” he commented grinning around the table.
Only to be met with horrified looks as most of the table were staring at his hands with distrust. Damian had his knife out again. Jason, his gun with the other arm held protectively in front of Jazz. Bruce was standing and Cass tense.
“What’s wrong?” asked Danny. “It’s just an ice duck sculpture. Completely harmless.”
Jason’s voice was low and threatening. “It’s an ice duck made of Lazarus water.”
More alarming than his voice was the way his eyes glowed ecto-green and the fear-anger that filled the room.
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Next
Challenge: Stay on one topic for more than two sentences.
Outcome: Failed.
They keep getting side tracked with more questions. And Danny still hasn't had a bite of his pie. This evening will never be over.
Tag List Part 1
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#dpxdc#danny fenton#jazz fenton#jason todd#Ghost!Robin#anger management#my writing#every sentence out of danny's or jazz's mouths leads to more questions#they will never be able to get through them all#but more importantly!#will danny ever get to eat his pie?#even he's forgotten about it#and its sitting right in front of him#but so is a ghost so...
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🎀💌? :)
(from this ask game)
🎀give yourself a compliment about your own writing
haHA jokes on you, if there's one thing I'm not, it's insecure about my writing. I know I'm good at it, and I really love doing it, so it's just. a lot of fun all around. what i especially love is writing emotions, partially because it means I get to use everything i learned as a young undiagnosed autistic kid trying to fit in and understand other people. as a result, it means im damn good at writing emotions! regardless, thank you for encouraging me to compliment myself!! <3
💌share something with us about an up-and-coming work (WIP) that has you excited!
so i already did this one here BUT i'm not gonna deprive you guys of my ideas, so here's a snippet from a non-Banshee AU fic i'm writing where Tim gets cancer, and decides to retire to a cottage in the countryside. without telling anyone. at all. currently hesitantly titled: and you know this will be gone in the morning
Dr Pakkala is still talking. She hasn’t stopped since she gently gave him the news, voice sympathetic and serious as she tells him about his options, about treatment and support and recovery rates. Tim, who has always been very good at looking like he’s listening, nods along.
The truth is, he’s been expecting something like this for a while. He’s read the journal articles. You don’t get as far as he has in life without doing research.
It turns out that those who survived the Clench have a higher chance of developing stomach or ocular cancer due to a strange reaction between the antidote and damaged cells. It’s rare and there are only a handful of cases, but when he told Dr Pakkala about his symptoms and his prior infection, her face had gone serious, and she began ordering a new slew of tests.
Several scans later, he was signing consent forms for a biopsy.
A week later, and he has his answers.
He always expected to die in the field. Would have welcomed it in fact, because outside of his nightly activities, there’s not much to say about Timothy Drake. As stubborn as he is, Tim lives to be useful. To assist however he can. He’s moulded himself into different shapes and forms for this purpose, even when the ones he’s doing it for would really prefer he didn’t.
It turns out being useful takes up a lot of space though, and beyond that, well. There’s not much room for anything else in his life. Being useful is pretty much all he has.
Stomach cancer is not useful. Stomach cancer means liability.
Stomach cancer means quitting jobs and taking time off, which then leads to questions, and that means he has to tell the Bats. Sure, he might currently be on frosty terms with them after the whole Captain Boomerang debacle, but he really, really does not want to deal with whatever fallout would result from him having cancer.
Dr Pakkala keeps mentioning his chances with stage three stomach cancer as ‘fairly decent’, and it makes him grimace.
“It’s not stage four yet, Mr Jacobs,” she repeats, and he gives a dutiful nod at the sound of his alias. The name is bland and unassuming, but he’s not going to take any risks, not even in a San Francisco hospital.
He leaves Dr Pakkala’s office with an appointment with an oncologist in one hand and various pamphlets in the other. He tosses them all the moment he’s on the street, and hacks into the hospital database to cancel his upcoming appointment as he takes the subway back to one of his safehouses. He doesn’t call the Waynes or his teammates.
The thing is, it doesn’t really matter what stage his cancer is in. Either he goes through treatment and survives, or he doesn’t. No, what matters is the fact that ultimately, Tim is going to have to stop being Red Robin. For good, most likely. Because even if the cancer does go into remission, he’ll always be at risk, he’ll be weaker and more prone to sickness.
He will be a liability.
Tim would rather have a clean break and disappear than become a liability to the Bats. His distance from the family won’t mean anything if they feel some sort of obligation to him, and if there’s anything he hates, it’s knowing when he isn’t wanted, but being unable to leave. Beyond that, he can’t stand the idea of them fussing, looking at him with pitying or cold eyes as he slowly rots into something unrecognisable. It’s not even a matter of pride; Tim just doesn’t want anyone to see him at his absolute lowest.
There’s a nice cottage in Vermont that he bought through a long string of proxy buyers, shell corporations, and some good old identity fraud. It’s as close to Batproof as possible, and that's good enough for him.
#bug replies#ask#anonymous#ask game#my writing#tim drake#batman#and you know this will be gone in the morning
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curious about all of them but ESPECIALLY theory: existence is a mirror 👀
oh ive been wrestling with this one for a while and probably will continue to, its a tim's mental issues fic bc ive seen a lot of stuff about him being depressed/passively or actively suicidal but none of it really sat right with me so im trying to figure out how i think this would manifest with the character, but its tim and hes difficult. much to think about. so unfortunately this wip is a mess and im not working on it actively bc its so hard to get the vibes right and its frustrating. anyway heres a bit
“Don't you have anything better to do,” Leslie asks—complains—as she digs out a bullet out of his shoulder on a beautiful Friday night, “than run around clobbering people all night?”
“Crime doesn't sleep.”
“No, but you should. And you are not the only one for this job, are you?” she points out. Rightfully. Tim still feels unnecessarily defensive and just barely stops himself from trying to prove to her how needed he is out there, actually. “You're too young for this to be the only thing you do.”
That takes him aback. This is the sort of conversation that Leslie usually unleashes on Bruce. It feels… painfully unearned to be getting it in his place.
He doesn't want to be a part of this discussion. He'll leave that to Bruce, Leslie and Alfred to ponder over, and he can go back to his work as soon as Leslie's done wrapping up his shoulder. The only reason he's here and not doing it in front of his bathroom mirror anyway is because Helena decided to play protective and basically dumped him in front of Leslie's door, and would not let him leave even if he tried.
It's really not that serious. It's just a shoulder.
“With all due respect, Leslie—”
“Tim,” she cuts him off, taking none of it, “with all due respect, you are twenty one and sitting in my clinic with a bullet wound on a Friday night. And I know you're out there every night. Do you even socialize?”
Tim bristles. It's embarrassing, and makes him feel just as young as she's treating him. “That's none of your business.”
It doesn't feel good, being rude to Leslie, but it's an instinctive reaction. Tim is well sick and tired of people trying to tell him how to live his life.
He thinks back on his last attempt to talk to a person his age who isn't involved in any of his vigilante life. He even likes Buzz, he wouldn't mind reconnecting with him, which is what he assumes the sudden invitation was about, but there's nothing like a miserable social interaction where you can't think of a single non-incriminating thing to say to drive home just how unadjusted you are to having a civilian life.
It had been easier before, back when he had dad and Dana to keep happy with lies, and was basically forced to keep a normal life. Scratch that, it wasn't easier; he agonized over keeping secrets every waking second, he kept two messy lives and never seemed to make enough time for either of them, but it did mean he had some semblance of a normal life. He hadn't thought of it that way back then, but he can see it now. There's none of that left.
Now, he has more than enough time to dedicate himself to being Red Robin instead of Tim Drake. He thinks he's been doing a pretty good job of it—except, nobody else seems to share his opinion.
“You'll run yourself ragged until there's nothing left but the cowl,” she says, and Tim has an inkling that this is far from the first time she's said those words.
(title from this poem bc u know. vibes)
#if i ever do post it its probably gonna be in chapters i already have an outline for all of them#and many like. smaller bits written#but im trying to not be very on the nose about it and its turning out so hard. alas#thank you<3#ask
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Robin thought she’d lived through the longest any human individual could spend on their hair, lounging on Steve’s bed in his clothes while steam from the shower seeped into the bedroom and Steve primped in front of the mirror before they went to work. She showered at night, and the sinfully luxurious silk sheets were still warm from where they’d shared when she realized the guest bed he gave her was a starched showroom nightmare that itched. Reliving her sleepover days with Steve Harrington wasn’t on any wishlist she’d ever made, but he slept in actual pajamas instead of hairy and naked like a sasquatch, and hugs could be a fraught prospect on any random day but she actually really liked the pressure of being squished into the bed when he rolled on top of her. They have sleepovers semi-regularly now, after movie nights or when one of them just can't deal with being normal or alone after a long day.
Then Steve had his awakening and has achieved epochs of hair care never before known by man.
"You knooooooow Eddie isn't going to notice," she moans, lying with her head and shoulders dangling off the bed. Her blood is rushing to her head and the lines of the dresser on the other side of the room are starting to spin.
"Every courtship takes both parties bringing their A game, especially for the opening moves," he says. "I'm gonna bring my fucking A game and trust me, he's gonna notice. Nobody with that much hair wouldn't."
He's given her a lot of "advice" about girls, some of which was effective and some of which was definitely holdovers from the King Steve school of douchebaggery, so the cadence of his slightly echoey voice from the bathroom is familiar. At least he isn't trying to do her hair.
Still.
"I'm gonna keep saying it until it sinks in, Steve: Eddie is not one of your lady flings."
#the title of this wip is live robin reaction#i love her so much#stranger things#stranger things 4#stranger things fanfiction#fanfiction#stranger things fic#fanfic#steve harrington#robin buckley#steddie#noodle fic#fic snippets
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@words-of-sarcasm tagged me in this fantastic game! The rules are to answer the questions you’ve been given, pose another ten, and then tag ten people. Let’s go!
full list of projects here
1. What is the best plot twist you’ve ever written? So far the number one reaction to The Hands and The Mouth has been genuine surprise at the ending; I’m very happy with it.
2. What is the best (most clever, most captivating) title you’ve ever come up with? I like so many of my titles, it's hard to choose... I think Forest Castles is a good example of something incredibly simple and incredibly accurate, and I am fairly satisfied with A Hexagon In The Shape of a Heart (six kids with varying romantic relationships with each other! the title sounds like a YA! what on earth would this shape look like?), but my favorite so far is probably A Different Kind of Drowning. It's just... very simple, very sweet, and it came to me easily. It also has a lovely sound to it, which is always important to me.
3. Have you ever cried while writing/reading a scene in your novel? What scene was it? Brainstorming, certainly, but that scene isn't written yet... it's the post-climactic scene in Sometimes it Happens.
4. If you had to live the rest of your life with the personality and (Modern AU) appearance of any one of your characters, what character would you choose and why? This is an absolutely wild question and I love it. Definitely Red, because he doesn't really care what people think about him and he's simultaneously very charming and sweet; he can really say anything and you'll forgive him.
5. Assuming that you get the same amount of publicity/money, would you rather see your WIP made into an animated series or a live-action TV show? Why? Interesting! Forest Castles has a lot of sword fights, which naturally sways me towards animated shows, because you can get away with a lot there in terms of fantasy fighting (cough-- Sword Art Online!), but other than that, it just wouldn't be the same emotionally, and I really think you need to see real people's faces for it to work on that level.
6. Have you ever had an “I’m a writer not a murderer” moment in real life? No.
7. What is the dumbest thing you’ve had a character do? How did it turn out? Wren and Robin and their weird love fight (The Way We Flirt). I have no idea why either of them think this will work, and I actually am not sure how it will turn out myself! I suppose I'll find out when I write it.
8. What is the most badass thing you’ve ever had a character do? No spoilers for Forest Castles! Wait 'til it's posted!
9. Who is the most overpowered character you’ve ever written? Red is just casually the best swordsman in The Forest. Nobody says it out loud, but we know it's true. And nothing is really done with it, either.
10. Why are you writing your current WIP? Forest Castles is extremely important to my younger self. It began as a way to escape where I was at the time, and the concept of it being somewhere other people can go is a daunting and beautiful one. I think I won't know for certain that everything turns out okay until I read the ending in print. That’s a lot of reasons, isn’t it?
Well, now to tag more people! Your questions:
What is your favorite smooch-related trope?
Where do you feel most comfortable writing?
What’s the strangest thing you’ve searched in the name of accurate writing?
Which writer do you stan? Which writer can you just not stand? Don’t be afraid to start some drama...
Do you prefer posting tons of excerpts or keeping everything to yourself?
When you get on Oprah and she asks you for an inspirational quote to help other young creatives, what will you give her?
Which writer has the process most similar to you? Feel free to ask Google for planners, pantsers, writers who write when motivation strikes them, writers who write every day...
Which is more valuable: unflinching support of a writer, whether or not their writing is good, or honest (and, at times, harsh) critique to help writers improve?
Who was the first to support your writing?
Were/Are you good at English-related subjects in school?
Good luck! And I’ll be tagging @aureliobooks @atelierwriting @jenny-calendar @dantedevereaux @goldchery @goose-books @dogwrites @bailey-writes @sleepy-and-anxious @concerningwolves!
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10 questions tag
I was tagged for this by @time-to-write-and-suffer on my other blog and i’m finally getting to doing it because clearly punctuality is a strong suit of mine
I can’t think of who to tag so consider this a free for all. Rules: answer ten questions from someone else and then send ten new questions on.
Three writers/books/whatever that have influenced your work the most?
What do you enjoy most about your preferred genre(s)?
What would you pick as a theme song for your current wip?
If you could steal a character from someone else and throw them into your current wip who would it be and why?
If you could have one of your characters physically fight someone else’s which would it be, against who, and who would win?
If your current wip was eventually adapted into some other media what would you choose? Movie, TV series, game, etc.
A story you would rewrite if you had the option?
Favorite parts to write in your wip and why? Least favorite parts?
Where can you imagine your protagonist(s) in ten years after the end of your wip?
What kind of pets would you characters have if they don’t already?
1. How are you so awesome?
I want to say it’s my extensive interest in medieval armor and armaments but I feel like that’s a very specific thing that most people would disagree with.
2. What’s your favorite thing about your writing?
Honestly I just love describing things? I know they go on for too long and they verge on purple prose but I just kind of get sucked into the visuals and trying to convey them in a way that’s both precise and articulate.
3. Who’s your favorite character that you’ve written and why are they your fave?
In my current WIP I have to say it’s a tie between two of the leads, Robin and Anais. Robin because she’s sort of out of place in the story, as they’re in a world that really focuses on fate and destiny and it’s established pretty prevalently that Robin has no tie to any of this. And Talisa because her role in the story is one that’s pretty trope-y but in developing her I’ve tried really hard to make her stand out from that.
4. One of your characters has been placed in the world/plot of a book you love. What happens?
Robin in the The Kingkiller Chronicles would be interesting. She’d probably go to the university and spend most of her days travelling the world as peacefully as she could. And even though it’s a video game I want Ark to go into the Dishonored world and interact with the Outsider because tbh I just want to see the ancient void entities have a pissing match
5. One of your characters has been placed in the world/plot of a book you hate. What happens?
I’m torn between Nada and Anais going into Throne of Glass, but I have to say Nada because I’d want to see her reaction to Alien. I know that no matter how it goes down Nada isn’t going to be the biggest fan of Alien’s politics (particularly her ideas on colonization wowee let me tell you) and she certainly wouldn’t appreciate her self-righteous attitude.
6. Your characters must fight each other to the death until only one stands victorious. Who wins?
Probably Lamia or Nada. Lamia because from her introduction she’s shown to be both willing to kill everyone in the room and also fully capable of doing so, and Nada because she’s actually a trained killer who’s had a little over a century to hone her skills.
7. If you could steal a cover and a title from other books to use for your own WIP/s, which ones would you steal?
That Earthsea cover where Ged is a half bird man
I’m personally super biased towards really illustrative covers but also symbolism so something like the 10th anniversary edition of The Name of the Wind, but I also love the visuals for Tess of the Road. Though to be entirely honest my dream would be something like Sara Kipin’s Lord of the Rings covers.
As for titles if you’ve delved into the realm of Elder Scrolls modding you know that Stormwend is an actual place in the Nehrim/Enderal mods and I’m jealous as shit I didn’t get to them first. Luckily for me there’s a distinction in that Stormwend is a rank/title/skill in my wip rather than a location.
8. If you switched places with one of your characters, �� what would happen to you and to them?
I’d probably prefer to switch places with Robin or Wren. They’re both settled into pretty comfortable lives, Robin in particular as she mainly focuses on less dangerous ways of dealing with her world.
9. What makes your style unique compared to other writers?
The fact that it barely exists because ya girl can’t get shit done
I have a lot of knowledge about history, particularly the more persistent things like laws, inheritance structures, architecture, and armaments. With fantasy often being my chosen genre that allows for a much more solid foundation when it comes to my world building, which I honestly think is one of my strong suits.
10. Describe your antagonist’s song number if they were a Disney villain.
Please just go listen to fires of war from the shadow of war ost and understand my entire vibe with this conflict
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