#void+eaves

[voidplus-jp]

「POP-UP “ARTIST RUNNING” #8 ジョエル・カークハム “Ground Swell” by Goya Curtain」 2023.8.11（Fri）― 8.13（Sun）

void+eavesでは、8月11日(祝・金)から13日(日)まで、「POP-UP “ARTIST RUNNING” #8 ジョエル・カークハム “Ground Swell” by Goya Curtain」を開催いたします。

POP-UP “ARTIST RUNNING”は、2020年よりvoid+eavesがアーティスト・ラン・スペースやプロジェクトを継続的に紹介してきたシリーズ企画です。8回目の最終回となる今回はGoya Curtain（ゴーヤ・カーテン）を紹介します。Goya Curtainは、ニュージランドからやって きたアーティストのジョエル・カークハムとビョーン・ハウトマンによって、2016年に非営利のアートスペースとして中目黒のアパートの一室から始まり、その後、池袋に移転。 現在は下高井戸で活動を続けています。彼らが活動する日本固有のアパートの六畳一間の和室は、小規模ながら箱庭的な小宇宙として、国内外のアーティストたちの作品展示に空間的な遊びを与え、それ自体がインスタレーションのコンセプトの一端を担うことも少なくありません。今回はそのGoya Curtainのディレクターであり自身もアーティストであるジョエル・カークハムの展示を行います。近年は、レシートや紙ナプキンといった日常生活の中で出会う紙媒体を支持体に幾何学的なドローイングを描くカークハムの新作を含む、国内では未発表のアッサンブラージュ作品なども展示される予定です。

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＜開催概要＞ タイトル：「POP-UP “ARTIST RUNNING” #8 ジョエル・カークハム “Ground Swell” by Goya Curtain」 会期：2023年8月11日（金/祝日）- 8月13日（日）12:00~18:00 会場：void+eaves （東京都港区南青山3-16-14, 1F） ディレクション：杉原寛 キュレーション：兼平彦太郎 お問合せ：info@voidplus.jp

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＜アーティスト・プロフィール＞

ジョエル・カークハム　（JOEL VIVIAN KIRKHAM） Adjunct Professor at Temple University, Japan Campus Director of Goya Curtain Project Space, Tokyo (www.goyacurtain.com)

主な個展 2022 Comings and Goings, Denys Watkins + Joel Kirkham (Two-person Exhibition), Laree Payne Gallery, Hamilton, New Zealand 2021 Urban Rocks, SAPC Gallery (Online Solo Exhibition) 2018       Yusuke Kihara + Joel Kirkham (Two-person Exhibition), Caves Gallery, Melbourne So on and so forth (Solo Exhibition), Goya Curtain, Tokyo

主なグループ展 2022       Accumulations (Platform for Shared Praxis #5), Curated by Jesse Hogan, Aoyama Meguro Gallery, Tokyo Platform for Shared Praxis #4, Curated by Jesse Hogan, Caves Gallery, Melbourne Social Life, Stella Corkery, Catherine Dale, Joel Kirkham, Kenji Ide, Knulp Gallery, Sydney 2021 Encapsulated, Curated by Christopher L G Hill, Caves Gallery, Melbourne 2019 Japanese Positions, Curated by Christoph Dahlhausen + Atsuo Hukuda, Raum2810, Bonn, Germany 2018 Platform for Shared Praxis #3, Curated by Jesse Hogan, Toride Tokyo University of the Arts Museum

キュレーションをした主な展示

2023 Turtle, Christopher L G Hill, Goya Curtain, Tokyo Track, Dash, Stroke, André Piguet, Magnus Frederik Clausen, Yusuke Muroi and Yu Nishimura, Curated by Christopher L G Hill + Joel Kirkham, Goya Curtain, Tokyo 2022 Patrick Lundberg,     ∙∙ ∙∙, Goya Curtain, Tokyo 2021 Social Life, Stella Corkery, Catherine Dale, Joel Kirkham, Kenji Ide, Knulp Gallery, Sydney Kenji Ide, Banana Moon, Watermelon Sun, Goya Curtain, Tokyo 2020 Anoushka Akel, (Red Legs) Hot Head, Goya Curtain, Tokyo Soshi Matsunobe, 松延総司, Goya Curtain, Tokyo 2019 Camilla Steinum, Transaction, Goya Curtain, Tokyo AXES, Dylan Batty, Mitchel Cumming, Maria Smit, Alex Gawronski, Shane Haseman, Goya Curtain, Tokyo 2018 Matt Hinkley, Attach an updated drawing, as the numbers have changed in the room. Also rotate the rooms so they are sitting this way., Goya Curtain, Tokyo Stella Corkery, I’ve Seen Sunny Days, Goya Curtain, Tokyo

インタビュー

2020 An Interview with Joel Kirkham of Tokyo’s Goya Curtain Project Space, By Catherine Dale, Contemporary HUM (https://contemporaryhum.com/writing/an-interview-with-joel-kirkham/ )

[bookgeekgrrl]

Tagged by @aidaronan to do the playlist shuffle. Which is great because I love shit like this! I'm using my 'Liked Music' playlist aka my very faves

"Do You Wanna Hold Me" - Bow Wow Wow

"Too Shy" - Kajagoogoo

"Where The Wild Roses Grow" [feat. Kylie Minogue] - Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds

"Crazy" - Patsy Cline

"Call On Me" - Eric Prydz

"Lipstick Lover" - Janelle Monáe

"Good Riddance (Time of Your Life)" - Green Day

"Thunder Thighs" - Miss Eaves

"At Last" - Etta James

"Ah! Leah!" - Donnie Iris

if you want to do the thing, consider yourself tagged! I love seeing what music people jam to

[iced-souls]

So for the Skeleguy’s name I’m looking at font names cause eh he he he, hoping for one that connects to “soop” / “soup” cause also ‘he he he’.

In the process I am seeing font names that make me imagine more skeleton characters—

[exitvelocities]

moonlight kiss fic meme fill from discord, for @completelycumberlocked. speaking of discord, if you're over 18, please come hang out with us on the dihua server. you can listen to me scream about fic, if you like that sort of thing, or just talk about dihua like a normal(?) person.

*

it just sort of happens. they've found each other on a rooftop at night, jugs of wine aplenty between the two of them, and the distance between them decreases as steadily as the liquor, sidling closer to one another like nervous horses. the moon is bright and round, hanging in the sky like a mirror. di feisheng is sure he isn't too drunk, just enough to put a shine on the world, to make everything pleasantly soft around the edges. things are good. they've signed a peace treaty. surely they trust each other enough for this, a nighttime chat and a good drink.

he loses track of what they talk about because it doesn't matter. li xiangyi's smile is dazzling and his laugh is easy. di feisheng's isn't, but it squeezes out of him more than once anyway. it doesn't feel difficult. they sway toward each other like reeds in the wind and, so slowly that it feels unreal, they kiss. just once, just softly, a chaste press of lips that's over as almost as soon as it begins.

they stare at one another, li xiangyi's eyes wide and dark, shock written large across his face. di feisheng's breath catches in his chest, heart suddenly caged by roots, something blooming in his ribcage. this is— this—

i'm sorry, li xiangyi says, and the moment pops. i have to go. di feisheng feels like he should say something, anything, but his tongue is tied in knots. he reaches out a hand but li xiangyi is gone, a shadow in the night, a void in the stars one second and a clear view the next. he's sober, now.

di feisheng looks up at the moon. everything feel slightly askew, like the world just shifted two degrees to the left. the tile of the roof is suddenly biting at his thighs through his clothes, the wind has turned cold. he shakes his head and stands, leaves the bottles littered across the eaves. maybe it will make sense in the daylight.

[temdatem]

this new hollowfishing game looks cool

in game looks as well as what i used to make them below!

i made Knight as first., for fun.

slughead and spear from eave's cosmetics

void eyes from BONEY eyes cosmetic mod

for the full blacc body i used ocean wave, black trenchcoat and tshirt and black paw socks with the long black pants(they make it not clip when walking opposed to short ones)

and no tail, nose or mouth.

Hornet was second.

headshape is Fox from zea spiecies

spear and the angy scug eyes are from eave's cosmetics

like for Ghost i used the same stuff to make the limbs be black under the maroon hoodie.

and no tail!

Hollow was last of the three(obviously haha)

Fennec head from zea spieces

spear ofc from eave's cosmetics

clothing the same as Knight with exception of the silver-black collar that is from the cute cosmetics mod

and the at ease eyes from BONEY eyes

i didn't know how to make the scar on the right so i gave up uvu"

[maddys-nerd-blog]

ITS RESCUE TIME FELLAS

For real this time!! Here’s the action packed second part to this chapter!! You’re gonna see a much of Katie’s feral side coming out cuz of the jaguar form. Plus, some Raph, Casey and Mikey action goodness! General warnings like swearing and heavy violence once again!

Hun is not gonna have a good time 🤣🤣🤣

LET US GET TO THE ACTION!

Ransom 4

A TMNT Crossover Short Story Fanfic

Part Four: Revenge

…

…

…

… “— eave the freaks—“…

…

… “— want guns on all doors—“

… a harsh thud, something being thrown without care…

…

…

…

… distorted voices clashing left and right, belligerent and vile, resisting, almost screaming…

…

… “—ou fucking—“

… a sharp crack, something being hit…

…

…

…

…

… thu-thump. Thu-thump…

Thu-thump. Thu-thump…

Thu-thump.

Thu-thump…

… was he alive?

… he wasn’t sure. He wasn’t sure what this was.

It was as if he’d been submerged underwater: all sound escaped him, muted, garbled by the unknown. If there was any type of noise it was drowned out by a rush of water that pounded through his ears, blocking it out. His body was weightless, drifting aimlessly in this eternal darkness, dragging, pulling, clawing for his soul as invisible hands latched around his limbs and held on. Naturally, he was stricken by a wave of terror.

Was this the afterlife? Purgatory?

Or the entrance to Hell?

He prayed it wasn’t the latter.

He hoped he’d pass on to a place where his soul was forgiven for all the stupid bullshit he’d done as a young man. He wondered if Ma was waiting for him on some sunny beach shore. She always loved the beach…

He thought about the light of his life, emeralds gemstones for eyes dazzling, a radiant smile set ablaze by her beauty.

He thought of her voice… hoping it would lull him into a sense of calm before he went…

…

…

…

… but… he remembered…

Voices. Echoes, words reverberating back at him from the void, filling his being with a sense of purpose…

‘You wouldn’t cut your losses and turn tail, would you?’

‘DAD! GET UP!’

Thump-thump-thump-thump-thump-thumpthumpthump—

Leo… Kathrine… they were in trouble!

He started willing himself to move from this void; arms as heavy as lead writhed and struggled, his legs kicking through a sea of molasses, body thrashing and swimming against the strain of heaviness. The hands around his soul wouldn’t release him so easily, anchored to the very essence of his aura to sink him further. No! Opening his mouth he screamed, screeching and shaking, wailing, crying out in protest. There was nothing he could do, nothing else to offer, nothing but his soul to sustain him as he fought to break free. There were people who needed him. There were things he needed to fix. There were still experiences he had yet to try.

He still needed to help his family.

He still had to look Kathrine in the eye and finally say with his full chest, ‘Marry me goddamn it.’

He swam, he fought, he writhed and kicked and stretched his arms and pleaded, please please I know I ain’t th’ best guy, I ain’t th’ hero, I know I made mistakes, I know I’m not worthy but lemme see her one more time, lemme help her son, please!

With the combined strength of a thousand men, he ripped himself free of the darkness, swimming, swimming, fighting to reach the surface with all his might, extending his hand to grab on to something to pull him free—

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

Oxygen.

Awareness.

Sound.

Pain.

This was the reality Danny was brought back to as consciousness crashed into his body like a freight train going off the tracks. Lungs seized momentarily as air caught in his chest, dented ribs yearning to bring life to deflated organs. He choked down the wheezing gasp that brought with it a coppery taste which coated his tongue, making his nausea worsen. Vicious, horrible head pangs hammered all over his skull and brain hard enough to make coherent thinking a chore. A sticky liquid had crusted his hair and caked around the entire right side of his head he realized, not too keen to face the possible doom of hemorrhaging. Danny briefly worried if he were going to slip back into unconsciousness due to the head trauma.

“—all four of you to take point at the rear. Cover the block. Scope the entire street.” Commanded a gravely voice. “She won’t get three feet inside this place without getting shot.”

“Mmmph!” Protested a muffled cry. “Mmhprh!”

“Don’t worry, turtle. First your ‘mother’, then the two of you. If the rodent isn’t already dead, that is.” The deep rumble of insidious laughter followed.

Danny found it a battle to pry his eyes open— his right, he discovered quickly, was swollen shut, only allowing his left vision, albeit hazy and unfocused.

The world spun. He found he was laying on his back, bright lights blinded his retinas and rendered the yōkai queasy. Colors were a kaleidoscope. As he tilted his head to fall to the side where the voices were loudest, he regretted the motion when his skull rattled with a vengeance. Figures taking shape with darker shades stood out, amongst them the giant of a man walking away from a green and blue mess kneeling in front of him.

Leo.

Leo, who sat with his back facing Danny, wrists painfully tied, torso wrapped in rope, ankles also bound glaring at the human as he left. The hoodie he wore was torn at the shoulder and collar. Danny’s heart sank when he spotted the familiar gag fixed back around his mouth to stifle his speech. But his posture suggested defiance. Bound hands were tightened into fists. He knelt in front of the rat with a level of determination, hatred in his eyes.

Was he… shielding him?

Danny blinked his good eye slowly, blinking back the misty vision of the world to better clear its fog. When he breathed his lungs ballooned and his chest heaved, causing the man to choke on air as he coughed against an obstacle stuffed into his mouth. Fucking Hun. First he tries t’ pummel me t’ death then he gags me? If he wasn’t suffering from internal bleeding he’d have rolled his eyes. Danny raised his head as much as he could, pushing the surge of nausea aside as he worked the energy to make himself known to the kid. So, twisting his torso to turn his body to the side the yōkai mewled to get his attention.

Leo’s body went rigid the moment Danny spoke. He whirled himself around, eyes wide, meeting the gaze of his caretaker with a sense of shock. Violet rings hung thick under puffy eyes like he hadn’t gotten any rest in a month, along with a nasty gash across the bridge of his beak that stained the cloth around his face. There was hesitation lingering from the boy’s being, not quite sure if he was imagining things or if Danny truly was alive.

Danny, stubborn as always, chirped weakly to settle his anxiety.

Instantaneously the mutant’s eyes watered. The way his eyes crinkled around the edges, the way his expression brought such a wave of relief, Leo sounded ready to burst at the seams. He whimpered to his guardian in a manner that suggested concern— no doubt about the current condition he’d been forced to endure. He clearly didn’t know the extent of his injuries. For all he knew, his internal bleeding could be getting more severe the longer he laid here like a slab of concrete.

And yet Danny still found the strength to offer Leo a smile. A crooked, weary, broken smile with bloodied teeth chomping down around the gag to provide some semblance of comfort to the boy.

Leo’s whimpering turned into sobbing. Thin tears trailed along the curves of his wounded face, evidence of being pushed too thin, of the last three days worth of stress and confusion catching up to him. Danny’s heart ached for the poor thing; how long had he been out? How long had this kid believed he’d been dead?

Worse yet… what time was it?

Danny’s golden orbs flickered past Leo’s shoulder to gauge what was going on. There were men stationed at the garage entrance— he counted twenty goons all displaying the Purple Dragon logo on their vests, more than he’d previously calculated— armed with firearms of different make, pistols, shotguns, rifles. Hun was talking to three other guys, telling them to head to the back with the others on the second floor. But when he craned his sore neck up to look up at the ceiling once more to find, amidst all the irritating lights currently driving pins into his eye, the skylight displayed a sea of stars drowning in a darkening dusky sky.

Fuck. He thought with a twinge. If th’ time limit is gettin’ close then I gotta figure out how t’ get loose if I’m gonna give Kat any kind of assist once she gets here.

Danny didn’t have to struggle to know he was still tied up; the way his fingers twitched told him his circulation was cut off, they were freezing cold. Movement was still limited by the restraints but what little he could do wasn’t much. Unless he wanted to wriggle around like a hooked bass and speed up the process of his internal bleeding, that was. There was no way he’d be able to get his hands free, he knew, but what else could he possibly do?

At this rate, Kat was good as dead.

Danny twisted one hand around in the bonds, ropes biting down into torn flesh under his fur. Blood crusted between his hands and fingers. No dice. Grumbling with agitation, he kicked his legs out in anger, tail curling around his ankles—

He went rigid. His eye went wide. Hold on a minute…

Tail?

Hadn’t Hun snapped it with the crowbar? With bated breath he went to shift it just slightly enough to evade prying eyes. The bottom half of his tail hadn’t been busted. The upper half was terribly broken, but from the mid-point down he had full mobility of the appendage. There was a searing pain that shot to his spine when he moved it… but it was free.

Holy fuck. Holy. Fuck!

He had an out.

Hun wasn’t counting on him regaining consciousness. He probably assumed he’d done enough damage to leave him totally out cold through the night and hadn’t accounted for the likelihood of him waking up. He’d left his tail unbound.

Danny’s grin turned evilly cocky behind the cloth. Ya messed up, fuckwit.

Sluggishly the yōkai slithered the tail towards the easiest place to reach, his feet. If he could get them free, Danny could sit upright and hopefully untie Leo’s hands— it was a long shot, but it was still a plan. Danny fussed with the knots of the ropes tethering his feet together, the tip of the tail tugging at the sturdy restraints with all the strength he could muster. He must’ve been messing with the damn knot for what felt like an eternity, meanwhile Leo sat vigil at the yōkai’s side, unwilling to let his guard down.

Danny could feel his throat tighten with agony, breathing growing more difficult. The thought briefly came to mind; ‘What if I bleed out? What if I got some kinda puncture in my kidney or liver? What if I’m close t’ passing out before Kat gets here?’

The thought scared him. And he didn’t get scared easily.

He couldn’t die yet. Not when Leo still depended on him. Not when Katie was at risk of getting gunned down. He had to pull through long enough for help to arrive.

He had to. He HAD to…

The knots were starting to give to his persistence, he could feel them waning. That gave him hope. If he could just keep up the pace—

“Well lookie here!”

Danny’s heart thudded in his chest, gaze rising to locate Hun as the bigger man finally took notice of Danny’s awakening. Leo’s anger reappeared, his hands balled into fists, snarling behind the gag as best he could. Fuck, not now. Not now not now why NOW?

“I thought you were dead!” Hun chortled— too loud, too much soprano, too much noise in his jelly-like brain— “You certainly looked the part all damn day! The blood that came pouring outta your ugly face after I beat you senseless? I’ve seen faceless nobodies bleed out a thousand times, but you’re a stubborn little roach!”

Hun stormed towards the two; Leo instantly began to shout around the gag furiously, thrashing in his binds. Danny wanted to calm the kid down before the thug laid his hands on him, but it was too late. As Leo created more noise, Hun shoved the helpless turtle aside, causing him to tumble onto the ground with a heavy slam. Unable to use his arms to catch his fall the turtle struck the concrete unforgivingly hard in a pathetic display of writhing.

“I must’ve crushed th’ back of your head,” Hun surmised, grabbing Danny by the bloodied collar of his shirt. He held him aloft like he weighed nothing, dangling the rat man with one hand in the air. “Your eyeballs almost popped outta your skull! I was certain I killed you, but,” he chuckled. “Guess I didn’t hit you hard enough.”

“Mmrgh…” Danny mumbled behind his gag in an attempt to speak but it did nothing. Keep yer eyes on my face and not my feet, just keep flapping yer yap. All I need is a minute.

“You should’ve seen your boy,” Hun scoffed. “The dumb animal really went savage on me!” Lifting his right hand the man showed off a set of severe bite marks around the space between his thumb and index finger that punctured deep enough to draw blood. Holy shit, LEO did that? “Tried taking my thumb off. Put up a pretty decent struggle before I shut him up. He really doesn’t know when to pick his fights… I guess he takes after you.”

Don’t let him get t’ you don’t let him get t’ you, he’s trying t’ crack you down, do not let him win!

“You should’ve heard it! ‘Don’t touch my Dad! Leave him alone! Wake up, wake up!’ I didn’t know turtles were so worthless without their guardians protecting them. He thought he was actually going to SAVE you!”

Danny’s hands twitched, unable to move, unable to wrench himself free. If he’d had the power he’d have gouged Hun’s eyes out. His expression turned vile against the swelling and bruising. Just a little bit further, he could feel the bonds at his feet giving way. Come on, come on, PLEASE!

“He kept saying, ‘My Dad’s hurt, do something! My Mom will kick your ass!’ I’ve never heard something so hilarious in my entire life! You freaks are so loyal it makes me SICK!” Hun brought Danny closer, their faces eerily inches apart to the point where Danny could see the deep brown irises of the human man, how sinister they were, how his pupils shrank with sadistic glee at the yōkai’s plight. “Why is it you lot are so determined to protect each other? Why do you go so far just to save your kin? In my world, it’s every man for himself. You should know! You were a convict too; I can see it in your eyes, you know what I mean. You’re a guy who’s been in the slammer once. I don’t forget that look in anyone’s eyes. Why stick your neck out for the sake of this dumb terrapin?”

Around his feet the ropes went slack. They slipped to the ground, unnoticed.

Somewhere overhead shadows fell past the skylight, the evening finally setting in. Four figures hovered from the glass panes.

Danny’s heart skipped a beat. Kat.

Hun, confused, looked up to inspect the strange arrival. “Who—“

This moment of distraction was all Danny needed. He held his breath, counted to three—

CRACK! “AUGH—?!”

Danny threw his head forward and smashed his brow directly into Hun’s, hearing the familiar sound of bone shattering. The pain that erupted throughout his entire skull added onto his other trauma and almost knocked him out cold, but he gnashed his fangs into the cloth and fought through it. The moment Hun staggered and his grip on his collar lessened, Danny quickly brought his knee up and, without giving him the chance to react, crushed it under his jaw and cracked his chin in one swift motion. He kicked off Hun’s chest to get himself loose, freeing him of the human’s hold as he dropped to his feet.

Don’t think, just move! Acting fast his aching tail lashed out, wrapping around Leo’s middle as he tried to make a desperate break for the nearest exit, dragging the bound turtle in tow. It didn’t matter if his hands were still tied, it didn’t matter if he could barely move, it didn’t matter, it didn’t, he had to get Leo out of here, clear a space, get him to—

Something was chucked into his spine.

He saw stars.

It hit him with such power it threw him off kilter, sending him tumbling, unintentionally dragging Leo alongside the rat. Danny heard a brick clatter to the wayside.

“YOU STUPID ANIMALS!” Hun tenaciously roared, slightly slurred from the broken nose he currently clutched, drawing a small revolver from his belt as he took aim…

Right for Leo, who sat entangled in the tail wrapped tight around his stomach, who stared at the gun with this strange blank expression, caught in headlights, motionless as though he’d already mentally accepted his fate.

Time slowed.

‘All it takes is one second, Daniel.’

Hun cocked the safety off.

‘One second to choose between life… or death.’

Danny’s heart dropped with terror. He screamed, shoving himself in front of the kid, acting as a living barrier between him and the impending bullet, praying to God for a quick death, praying the shot didn’t go through him and into Leo, praying for Kathrine to forgive him; Kat, Kat, Kathrine I’m so sorry, I love you so much, please don’t hate me, please—

C

R

A

S

H

Glass exploded overhead. It rained down onto the unfortunate bastards caught in their deadly hail, spliced and diced as the shards fell, catching pieces of moonlight in their fractured panes.

Without warning, four shadows fell into the warehouse among them.

One hit the ground hard and fast, a tremor shaking the foundation of the first floor when he landed. Two others dropped stealthily silent at his side, framing the giant. All of them were wearing thick, heavy black clothes and masks.

The last slowly rose to her full height. Covered from head to toe in black, the woman leveled a pair of toxic green eyes onto Hun beneath the hood of her jacket, taking in her target.

In her hand dangled a revolver. The other, his Cloaking Broach.

Katie’s voice broke through the blanket of silence that captured the unexpected audience. With a murderous hiss, she spat Hun’s words right back at him. “You’re going to regret pissing me off.”

She raised her gun to the sky.

She fired.

BANG!

Her shot struck the circuit breaker in the ceiling, taking out all the lights. Electrical sparks showered down around the warehouse.

Soon, a cacophony of voices rang throughout the warehouse as Hun and his lackeys panicked.

“WHERE ARE THEY?! SOMEONE GRAB THE MUTANTS!” Hum exclaimed.

Then, another voice. “LEAVE NONE STANDING.” As dark green and purple tendrils warped around the slim figure of Katie in the pitch black, transforming the woman. Three silhouettes branched off.

Cries bellowed into the dark as the three moved at once. In a matter of seconds, all hell broke loose.

Danny wasn’t taking chances; tail tightening around Leo he all but hauled him out of gunfire range as bullets began to soar and whiz past his ear. The deafening screams and wails of the hapless goons went ignored.

Danny hadn’t gotten a decent look around the premises but he at least managed to find cover thanks to his night vision, however obscured it was; he ducked behind a tall set of crates, pulling himself and Leo behind the sturdy barriers. He didn’t know his long they would hold but for now, it would have to suffice. Despite the chaos unfolding around them he found it easier to breathe.

They found them. They came. They really came. Kathrine had pulled through.

He could feel Leo start to tremble; violent, terrified, full bodied shakes rattled the slider. His breathing turned uneven, uncontrollable. He heard him begin to weep.

Danny didn’t have to be the best medic in the world to know this was a panic attack.

He’d had a gun pointed right at him— he very likely could have been shot and had it not been for the timely intervention of their group, the turtle could have…

Acting on instinct the yōkai hugged the slider close to him— unable to wrap his arms around the boy, his tail curled tighter at Leo’s middle to shield him from the madness. Truth be told, Danny was scared shitless. Anything could go wrong. Anything could happen. But in this small corner Danny was all Leo had to protect him from whatever threat crossed their path. Hell or high water, he would die fighting to keep his promise.

Let them kill me first. I ain’t letting this kid down.

*********************

Five seconds.

That was all it took.

Five seconds for her to break the necks of the lookouts on the rooftop to get by undetected.

Five seconds for Katie to shatter the skylight windows of the warehouse and leap into the fray of goons packing heat.

Five seconds was all it took for her to move when she saw Hun point a pistol at her baby and the man she loved, who threw himself in front of the mutant red eared slider in an attempt to take the shot meant for the teen.

Five seconds of dark red tinting her world in a bloody film.

The Cloaking Broach effortlessly turned her from woman to yōkai, the cover of shadows illuminated her ghastly feline form as terrified thugs began to blindly open fire, pops of light like firecrackers indicating their unlucky locations. In one command her boys pounced into action: Raph taking the stairs. Casey covering the entrance. Mike advancing on the main floor.

Katie bared her fangs as a bloodcurdling growl rumbled deep in her throat, lowering herself into a crouch, the thin fur on her arms and neck rising with unbridled rage. The jaguar form granted her plenty of advantages, one of them the blessed gift of speed and inhuman strength. She had to make full use of their abilities before her stamina wore off. Mouth dropping open she released a gut churning screech that echoed throughout the facility.

Katie took off in a sprint.

Her hands grabbed one guy by the back of his shirt and seized him. One instantaneous snap to his neck and he crumbled. Kicking off his falling body she grappled another man by the torso and took him down, his gun firing sporadically as they collapsed. He didn’t get the chance to scream when she tore his neck open. She ripped the gun from his hands, taking shots towards where the stairs started as three goons tried to ambush Raph whilst he was busying himself with two burly looking jackasses.

Three shots. Three bodies staggering along the stairs. Katie continued moving.

She lunged for another big fellow, a woman this time, trapping her in a corner. She went to throw a fist, but Katie dodged. She moved to uppercut her, but she parried. Using her elbow Katie crushed it into his the and cracked two ribs. Finally she unleashed long, thick claws to sink them deep into the stomach and slashed it open. The sorry excuse for a woman gurgled something that sounded like ‘help’ under her breath. She thought she heard her wheeze, ‘I have babies.’

Katie spat on her.

No mother in her right mind would ever think of harming another’s child. Not unless they were depraved.

“GOONGALAAAAA!” Casey declared nearby, followed by a heavy thwack from his hockey stick as he struck someone. Seconds later an explosive hockey puck blew some guy far back into the brick wall. He skated around a pillar just in time to avoid being pelted with a piece of broken concrete, using the cover to thrust his arm out and catch the man in the torso and tase him with his glove. Dark blue light ignited around the man’s body as he was electrocuted without mercy.

Raph on the other hand sprang forward onto one goon, canines bared like a vicious snake ready to devour its prey. Sai in his fists he used all his strength to bring them up and into the shoulder blades of the hapless moron beneath him, pushing off the man to twist his body into the air and kick one leg outward, striking another bastard in the groin with powerful force. Tearing his sai out of his opponent’s arms he jumped to his feet and tackled the second to the ground, landing devastating punches one after another at the thug’s face, bellowing in outrage with each blow.

“THIS!” CRIK! “IS FOR!” CRUNCH! “MY BROTHER!” KRAK!

“You want some’a this, fool?!” Mikey’s tone suggested anger as he lashed out, nunchucks spinning rapidly, striking with precision and careful timing. The biggest of her kids battered and bludgeoned any man who tried to touch him, expertly weaving and leaping out of harms way in time as a shot nearly took the gentle giant down. He used his height to his advantage to gain leverage over his opponents, striking with deadly precision. “Come GET some!”

“FLUSH THEM OUT! I WANT LIGHTS, GET EYES ON THE FREAKS!” Hun screamed amidst the frenzy of rapid fire and ricochet bullets. “I WANT THEM DEAD!”

You’re going to be dead in ten minutes, but I’m patient, Katie thought.

She flipped over one guy like an acrobat, unknowingly catapulting into another duo of morons that managed to get some solid blows into her sternum and face as she struggled to gain her bearings. A couple of hits to the diaphragm rendered her momentarily stunned, fingers latching into her hair and ripping her backwards to deliver a strong-armed punch to her cheek.

“Stupid—“ Asshat hissed as he went to punch her in the nose. She caught his fingers in her teeth and sank them down to the point of breaking them. When the hand let her hair go Katie struck her palm straight up, breaking the teeth from his mouth and slicing his lips. Katie swung her hands in crazed, rapid motions, cutting him deeper, deeper, slicing his face and torso until she took him down to the floor. Whomever had tried to assist him ran away in fright— smart man.

“MA!” Raph yelled from the second floor, sai clashing into a shotgun, using the prongs to shove the barrel to the side and sideswiping his attacker to take him down. “Three o’clock!”

Her eyes widened. Turning in the direction of the crates, she caught a trail of blood streaking an unsteady line around the corner. In that bloody mess the footprints turned somewhere in the slew of storage containers.

Danny. Leo.

Katie just barely managed to avoid being stabbed from behind as a squealing simpleton attempted to run her through with a switchblade. Seizing his arm she snapped it at the elbow joint and rammed her own straight into his throat, proceeding to body slam him as she cracked his head open like a walnut. She tore the knife from his twitching fingers, clutching it in a fist, claws digging into the metal handle. Where was Hun?

“FUCKING— CAN’T DO ANYTHING RIGHT! WHAT DO I PAY YOU IDIOTS FOR!” Hun shouted in outrage, the unmistakable sound of a Glock disengaged off its safety. “WHERE ARE YOU, RAT?! I’M ENDING THIS!”

Katie’s mouth twisted dangerously into a ravenous sneer.

The clock started ticking.

Ten.

She cut through the rest of the lackeys in her way, moving against the wave of bodies that struggled to find and subdue her. No. No. NO. No man was going to stop her now. Not while she was still breathing.

Nine.

Hun was a fortress as he pushed and shoved his cronies aside like they meant nothing, searching the crowd with ominous intent behind every fiber of his body. He grabbed one of the heavier crates and heaved it across the warehouse— her heart skipped a beat when the massive wooden box hit Mikey dead center in his chest and sent the ‘chuck wielder into a beam shell-first. The sound that came from the metal structure reverberated into her eardrums and made her fur stand straight. “MICHAEL!”

The orange masked teen huffed, getting back to his feet albeit shakily, spitting blood to the side and calling, “Good! I’m good! Just… dizzy!”

“Casey, cover Mike! Raph, on my seven!” Katie cried. She took point as she raced forward. “NOBODY follow me!”

She didn’t want them seeing what she was about to do.

Didn’t want them to see the carnage that was about to unfold.

That was her sin to bare. Not theirs.

Eight.

Hun pushed aside another crate, searching high and low. He fired his Glock randomly at something in his line of sight. The gunshot struck a solid object, but thankfully not any people. “Where are you?! When I get my hands on you both I’ll make you WISH you’d been shot!”

He fired somewhere near his left—

A muffled scream made her stomach seize.

Daniel. That was Danny’s voice.

And from where she stood a mere twelve feet away, she saw understanding cross Hun’s repulsive features.

He readied another shot with a click. “There you are.”

Seven.

Katie suddenly found her second wind. She flew— soaring off unmoving bodies and gaining momentum as she ran. The muscles in her calves and thighs tightened. The adrenaline rushed all over her body. Her veins were on fire.

She didn’t care.

As Hun prepared a second round she caught him off guard. She lunged, grabbing him by the shoulders as she hung on. Then she drove the switchblade into the depths of his back and started repeatedly shanking him. Hun screamed, blindly reaching behind him, trying to grab Katie to pry her off. She avoided his meaty hands, continuing to stab him in the muscled tendons of his back and aiming for his spine—

“FUCK OFFA ME!” Hun exclaimed. Without hesitation he threw himself back, and in turn, took Katie with him as he slammed her into the wall. She grunted, the pain exploding into her head and back, as Hun did this a second and third time. She lost her grip on the knife as it clattered out of reach into the dark.

Hun shook her off enough to seize her by her ankle, tearing Katie off and holding her aloft like a gutted fish. “YOU!“

Katie growled in return.

She twisted her body like a python, wrapping her arms around his appendage and sinking her claws through the sensitive skin around his forearm and shredded it completely open.

Six.

Hun reared back like a horse, wailing his arm around to toss her off. She didn’t let go. She instead haphazardly clawed her way up his arm, to his chest, to his shoulders as she latched on and embedded her teeth into his collarbone—

The gang leader punched her. He cracked her jaw as he dislodged her off him, taking the opportunity to snap her head back as he grabbed her throat and began to squeeze. Katie gagged, coughing, kicking and hissing against the ironclad grip around her windpipe. Her claws scratched his knuckles and wrist.

“Finally,” Hun panted, shaking the mutated woman like a ragdoll. “YOU’RE the top prize of New York? Another genetic hybrid? You’re a MENACE. I can’t believe you caused all this mayhem for worthless freaks! You really must be that deranged!” He crushed his thick fingers around her neck, making her spasm in agony as the ability to breathe was robbed from aching, broken lungs. “Just wait. I’ll take your pets. I’ll take them and turn them into handbags, sell their shells, turn their blood into addictive drugs… and I’ll make you watch it all. But not the rat. That rodent has something VERY special waiting for him. He’ll be saved for last. I’ll take all the fur from his skin piece by piece, I’ll rip his tail off, I’ll take his eyes… and you’ll see the life drain out of him as he dies at your feet… all the while I’ll keep you as my private little WHORE.”

Five.

The scent of death was so potent it could have strangled an elephant.

One thought integrated into her brain:

KILL.

Four.

Katie snarled. Not in despair…

But bloodlust.

She swung on him; thick black claws caught the bottom of the left eye and tore the fragile flesh. Hun yelped.

It wasn’t enough.

It wasn’t enough until she took his life.

Katie pile-drove both feet right into his abdomen and kicked over and over again, heels digging hard enough to knock the wind out of him. Pummeling her booted feet as physically hard into his pelvis, the force of the strike the final time made the buff gang leader spit blood as something in his pelvic region cracked. As soon as he was doubled over, Katie knocked both feet into his face and sent him sprawling. She wrenched her neck out of his hands and climbed on top of him. When he swatted at her she pushed his arms down.

Three.

Katie straddled the bigger man, hovering over the disgraceful cur— a primal animal ready to devour.

Hun’s eyes squinted through the daze of his attack, grinding his teeth in agony when he stared up at the jaguar woman. Realization dawned upon him. “You wouldn’t DARE.”

Katie slowly raised her arm. Claws extended out of the tips of her fingers.

Hum’s face blanched. “You wouldn’t!”

Two.

Katie’s eyes flickered a deadly shade of crimson. Her face turned feral.

She thought of Danny, the man she loved— his screams of anguish that would forever haunt her.

She thought of Leo, her son— pleading for Danny’s life, the horror that filled his voice.

She thought of Grace, her sister— handed off to Draxum and taken to a lab, being used for some kind of sinister experiment.

Letting him go would spell death for them all.

Letting him walk away after everything he’d done? All the lives he took? All the devastation he’d created?

Never.

One.

In the darkness the jaguar screeched, bringing her claws down like a guillotine.

In the darkness Hun drowned in his own terrified cry as she ripped his jugular open with her hands.

In the darkness, blood was spilled.

True to her word, Hun hadn’t lasted more than ten minutes.

**********************

The chaos lasted an eternity. That’s what Danny believed.

The gunshot was TOO close to his head and had missed by inches— inches. A single shot nearly blew his brains out and he would never have been known until it was too late. His heart had stopped after the attempt on his life, he could barely catch his breath after that. Any closer t’ th’ left, and I’d be…

He’d gone into a shock of sorts, freezing on the spot as he struggled to put the pieces of his composure back together. Air dragged into constricted ribs, quickened and erratic. But he refused to waver. During the horrific ordeal he never let Leo go, having clung to the teen as though he were a lifeline, holding him close to keep him safe. The poor kid was a hysteric mess, burying his face into Danny’s arm and weeping, terror plain to see from a mile away as tears stained his sleeve. Danny sat like steel. Never moved. Never once did he dare to ease his grip on Leo. Nobody was taking this kid, nobody was going to hurt him, nobody would get the chance, nobody—

The brawl came to an abrupt end. Doors flung open as petrified screams fled into the night.

Quiet settled over the warehouse. Dread hit him at once.

Where was Katie? Where were the boys? Had Hun done something, had he hurt her? Where did everyone go? Where were the gang members?

He felt Leo shiver against his side, whining worriedly. Danny’s tail pulled him closer, shielding him. Don’t let him out of your sight.

He couldn’t chance it.

He couldn’t risk being careless—

Physical contact viciously ripped him back into reality.

It became a battle to breathe.

Someone was touching him. Hands were on his shoulders someone was touching him they were going to start with him someone was going to take Leo away—!

NO!

Fight or flight set in. Primal desperation kicked his senses into overdrive. Danny began to buck like a lion, yelling and howling against his gag in outrage, no no no they can’t do this, they can’t, I’m not going down like this I’m not dying here I’m NOT LETTING THIS KID DIE. “MMHF— DNN PHHKN THHK HHMPH! DNN HHFF HHMPH!”

“DANIEL! DANIEL, DANIEL, IT’S ALRIGHT! IT’S ME!”

Clarity.

He froze. Was that…?

Eyes shot open in the dark—

Lights blinded him, white LEDs shooting daggers into sensitive retinas after spending days being shuttered away. Recoiling Danny groaned, shying from the source, the hands returning to touch his face, he fought the urge to scream—

“Daniel.” Gentle, soft as silk, quiet and comforting. “I’m here.”

He forced his blurry eyes open a second time. Blinking away tears that prickled weary orbs, Danny finally found a familiar face.

The most beautiful sight on this planet.

Emerald green eyes. Tan complexion. Tussled black hair. Smooth, elegant face. Blood speckled around her cheeks and neck. Bruising crawled throughout her throat. Her clothes were tattered and bloodied. A battery powered lamp sat at her side. She looked like she’d been run over by a truck.

But Kathrine was gorgeous. She always was.

“Oh God… Danny,” Katie whimpered. Tears stung his eyes as she spoke his name. “What’d he do to you…?”

His shoulders shook. His barriers came tumbling down around him. In this moment Danny broke into tears, cutting like razor blades down an injured face. He kicked himself for this internally. Men were supposed to stand strong in the face of despair. Men were supposed to be the fortitude for others to fall to in dire need. Men, his father taught him, would never shatter under the pressure. They couldn’t show sensitivity, they couldn’t CRY. It was a privilege reserved for women or weaker people with no backbone.

But damn his old man.

The woman he loved made it. Leo was okay.

They were going home.

Katie brought him closer, tilting his head forward to touch her forehead to Danny’s. Her fingers tenderly brushed his shaggy hair out of bloodshot eyes to better get a look at him, the motions familiar, slow, rhythmic, compassionate as she soothed the battered yōkai. As tears trickled down his muzzle and stained his gag he wept joyfully in her hands, yearning for his words, wanting dearly to voice his gratitude. She mumbled to him, “I’m here baby. I’m here. Sorry I took so long.“

Danny shook his head, trying to talk, trying to tell her it was fine, but he settled with a muffled grunt for now. This tender feeling of comfort provided by the woman who loved him was more than enough. He just wished he could kiss her.

At his side Leo squeaked, timid. Danny relinquished his grip on the terrapin, nudging him to look over.

Katie raised her head to find Leo. Her eyes widened painfully, and her lips quivered. “Mijo,” she gasped.

Leo almost instantly tried to hurl himself into her arms, but still being bound he teetered forward clumsily, Katie catching him before he could shatter his beak into solid ground and pulling him into a crushing embrace while the boy sobbed with relief in her shoulder. “Oh mijo…! Bromista! I’m so so so sorry, I’m right here, shhh-shhh-shh Mama’s got you.”

“Mom!” Coming in from behind the other three arrived, winded and sheathing their weapons, the battle over. “All clear. Those bozos ain’t coming back—“ Raph sported a gnarly gash under his jaw, his black clothes ripped and torn apart at the elbows, dark brown eyes turning alert as soon as he saw Leo. “Oh shit… Leo…”

Leo’s eyes poked around Katie’s shoulder, dark red and glassy. The slider’s expression fell even farther into remorse. He strained his hands against his bindings, weeping harder at the sight of the older turtle. Like being torn out of a trance Raph moved; lowering himself to a kneel as he drew the bound terrapin into a hug, forgoing his own injuries in favor of providing him reassurance. “I’m so sorry, bro… I’m so so sorry, I’m such an idiot, I never meant a word o’ what I said. I’m so glad yer okay.”

Nobody missed the warbled shake of Raph’s voice repressing tears.

Mikey wiped blood away from his nose with the back of his arm, cuts sinking deep into his legs and shoulders, shaking slightly from being chucked into a steel beam. His expression sank with empathy, but he immediately dropped to his knees to help his surrogate mother with the slider. “Hey Lee. We got your back.”

“I got the first aid kit,” Casey knelt at Leo’s side with a seriousness Danny had never seen before, rummaging around his duffle bag. His bottom lip was split, his left hand looked swollen, his ear bled from the earlobe, hockey mask pushed up to rest atop his head. “What looks the most bad?”

“There’s a gash on the bridge of his snout. This thing stopped a majority of the bleeding but it looks deep,” Katie gently tilted Leo’s head forward to grab ahold of the knot tying the gag in place. “Honey, hold still. I’ll get you loose. Mike, can you please untie Danny?”

Mikey nodded. He unclipped a shuriken from his belt as he moved behind the yōkai with a friendly grin. “‘Sup, rat dude! Don’t worry, I’ll have you outta this in a minute!”

He sat still for the bigger turtle as he worked on the ropes, sawing away at the restraints diligently. As he waited for his bonds to be cut Danny watched in silence as Katie took care of Leo, Raph using one of his sai to slice through the cords around his wrists like butter. She whispered consoling things to the kid as she fussed with the gag, some words in Spanish, others in English, but her attention never strayed off the slider. A mother in her element.

“Respira, cariño, solo respira profundamente,” Katie soothed, untying the cloth and easing it off his mouth, taking care not to disrupt the gash across his snout in the process. “Just focus on my voice. I’m not going anywhere.”

Leo hacked out a blood soaked wad of fabric, sputtering into a coughing fit that robbed him of the ability to use his words. Katie rubbed his shell in circular motions, easing the turtle forward in case he needed to vomit. Raph slashed the last of his bonds free in one fell flick of the wrist. Leo’s hands slowly moved to the front, both visibly shaking, the traumatic stress still apparent. “I gotcha Bud. You’re good. Ma, ya need th’ water?”

“Yeah. Leo, here, take a drink of this—“

“N-no…” Leo’s voice was a raspy whisper. Shaking his head he pointed a finger over to Danny, who blinked his good eye in befuddlement. “D-Dad… h-he needs it…”

The cords holding Danny prisoner finally snapped, Mikey’s impromptu knife severing the strands. Blood rushed back into numbed over fingers and made his hands prickle from the sensation of circulation returning, rushing back into aching veins that yearned for movement. A relieved huff pushed through the fabric still wrapped in his teeth.

Fingers found purchase on the knot at the back of his head, and two seconds later the gag was finally loosened from his mouth. Swollen clawed fingers reached up to yank the cloth free, spitting the long since blood saturated rag to the side as he nearly choked. He struggled to repress a wheezing fit, fighting to keep his pain to a minimum but his lungs ballooned in his ribcage and begged for air. What I wouldn’t give for a bottle of gin.

“Dad…!” Leo, unable to withhold his worry, attempted to go help him. But the slider was still weak, atrophy turning his arms into sore, shaking twigs that went to reach for the yōkai. He nearly collapsed had it not been for Raph helping him to kneel.

Katie squeezed around the two to fit in the space to reach Danny, her hands cupping his face as blood slithered down his chin. “Daniel. You okay?” She asked.

“‘M… fine.” Danny worked his words out of a parched throat begging for water. “J-Just a he-headache…”

Not falling for his charade Katie held a bottle of water to his lips, encouraging him to drink. “Hey, take it easy. You probably have brain fog.”

“Side note, is anyone else confused?” Mikey piped up, cutting the last of the ropes from the yōkai’s torso. “Leo must have some kinda concussion. He just called Danny ‘Dad.’ I think you got the wrong rat, man. Your Splints is gray.”

“D-Don’t… have one,” Leo cleared his voice to better speak. “I know… what I said.”

“Wait whaaaat?” The ridges of Mikey’s brows rose.

“Dan? Dad?” Casey had to ask next. “Dude, seriously? You sure you’re not concussed?”

“Yep.” Leo grinned. The motion almost looked too forced from the pain. “That’s… my Dad.”

Katie’s emerald orbs glistened— tears hanging at bay, a soft smile growing across her face. Glancing back at Danny she mouthed, “Really?”

Danny took one look at Leo, who grinned weakly at his guardian with happiness. He looked back to Katie, tired hands reaching up to run them through her hair. The feeling of her smooth locks beneath aching, battered palms grounded him. They anchored him.

They reaffirmed the reality of his survival, of all the suffering he’d endured to reach this point.

How he’d go through it all over again to keep them safe.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “I am.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ONE MORE CHAPTER AND ITS DONE!!!

Hope you liked this one! 😁😁

@queen-with-the-quill @tending-the-hearth @goldenflowerdragon @figuringitoutasigoalong @lameboobah

[aalinaaaaaa]

Find the Word Tag

Thank you @axl-ul for the tag!

I got tagged for the words chest, book, glass, window, and interest. The snippets are a pick-and-mix of different pieces, most notably from or in relation to Soulswapped, Flamebearer and Obsidian Sapphires. Enjoy!

Glass + Window

He strode out from the light-blessed corridor, entering a leafy landing where vines and branches lined the stone walls and eaves, the thick glass window inviting a view to outside. The world around Anira started to blur again. “Sure I didn’t say that, some other courtier did.” Vomit tingled in her throat, burning at the precipice. She contemplated making it his problem.

Chest

“Now, some would allege the matter to be deliberate sabotage on Helinda’s part.” She looked the very fellow in the eyes, causing him to scamper and wilt. Her words flowed as her dark green silks did, smooth and eloquent. “Unless such a situation can be verified as true, our focus must remain on banishing the octopus. Considering its targets have been shipments of crystal fruit, I trust a trap will be set.” A concurrence of agreement ensued. A weight lifted off his chest, only for it to land again upon the treasurer standing up.

Book

It sent thoughts buzzing in her mind, undecipherable static, fuzzing, chatting and setting her nerves alight. The fingers of her right hand singed with phantom bursts of Eshani’s magic. At the end of the corridor, stood the principal’s door, an elaborate set with various swirling designs engraved into it. Thick, purple curtains draped either side of the left window, the ends spilling on the floor. Bookshelves dominated much of the wall behind the principal’s desk, the latter from which she moved some of the books and sheets into a neat stack.

Interest

"Order, order, we must proceed.” The chairman gestured to two of the councillors, putting their lively discussions on hold. Andreas had one thing to do, uphold his father’s interests. With this being the first time his father had been absent from a Royal Council meeting, he worried the others believed it to be intentional. With the next person to stand being none other than the Royal Treasurer, Andreas held his breath.

—

Tagging @bardic-tales @space-writes @thepeculiarbird @seastarblue @littleladymab @written-among-stars and an Open Tag for the following words: scintillating, pernicious, uncouth and languish

A combination of the three taglists plus the general one (ask, comment, etc to be added/subtracted): @mundanemoongirl @scarletteflamerald @midnight-and-his-melodiverse @ceph-the-ghost-writer @flock-from-the-void @outpost51 @mattresses-and-macaroni @limitlesswritingvoid @mr-orion @the-ellia-west @guessillcallitart @thelaughingstag @thereadingfoz @glassstardust22124 @original-writing @honeybewrites

[taggedmemes]

SENTENCE MEME ⟶ SORROW-SCOPES FROM TWITTER (PART TWO) always feel free to tweak the sentence to fit your muse.

"Is this the best you can do? Seriously?"

"You will undergo a series of tests today, and you will fail all of them by simply showing up."

"Start a new chapter in your life, but pick a less boring central character."

"The void is tired of your constant screaming, and is requesting you take your complaints elsewhere, like Olive Garden for example."

"You don't need to reinvent yourself. There's only one you and you're chained to it like a lead ball pulling you down to the bottom of the sea."

"This is a lucky day to spend time in nature. Stray from the footpath. Enter the forest eaves. Follow the flickering light, the one that almost sounds like a child's laugh. Go on, do it."

"You may feel overwhelmed by the maddening screams of evil spirits, but your ability to get along with others will get you through to the next circle of hell."

"You only get one chance at life and what a terrible mess you're making of it."

"All the sexy selfies in the world won't fill the emptiness inside you."

"In every potato patch, there's at least one that's malformed. That's you. You're the malformed potato."

"Good things are coming your way. They won't stop until you're dead."

"Your therapist will once again cure another patient by using you as an example of what not to do."

"Every new day is a gift. Returns are not accepted without a receipt."

"You may be an army of one, but no one said you were well-trained or properly equipped."

"Someone's going to start mailing you hair. Check back next week to find out who."

"Clear your mind, take a deep breath. This is going to hurt a lot."

"The ghosts of your past are no match for the killer robots of your future."

"Your positive outlook will make you feel foolish when things inevitably turn to shit."

"It would be a great day for people to listen to you. After midnight they won't be able to, as that's when your voice will be repossessed by the sea witch."

"They key to living a happy life is to avoid being dragged screaming into a subterranean lair."

"You'll find a severed foot this week. Thankfully, in your Applebees entree so you'll score a free meal."

"Focusing on small, manageable goals is a great way to avoid the grim specter of your own looming mortality."

"Today's a good day to exorcise your demons. Wipe the slate clean and make a whole new bunch of terrible life choices."

"If you can't help yourself, nobody else can, so you're basically screwed."

"The exact minute of your birth tells us so much about you. None of it is good."

"Someone will hack into your dating profile, but won't touch a thing because they think you've already been hacked. You haven't."

"Take heart in knowing that what befalls you next week will eventually lead to what Buzzfeed calls 'American's next true crime obsession'."

"Air travel is in your immediate future. Stay away from open windows this week."

"Given the choice between being rescued from drowning and fighting the ocean itself, you'll punch the sea every time and we respect the hell out of that."

"You'll play a key part in the invention of interdimensional space travel after NASA announces it's the most permanent way to get rid of you."

"Due to focus grouping, your part will now be played by a more attractive and intelligent player."

"You will bear witness to the majestic beauty of nature this week but all you really care about is your phone."

"The darkness that has haunted your past gives way to a new light. Which will make it easier for your enemies to find you."

"You've been feeling restless lately, and it's because your skeleton hates you and wants out."

"You pissed off the moon. You're on your own."

"They say the blood of your enemies is a powerful elixir but let's face it, you just like the taste."

[pandimensionalemporium]

I've been struggling with descriptive writing lately. It used to be my biggest strength, which meant I worked hard on my dialogue skills to compensate, and now the balance has flipped. So it goes!

So, I've decided to start doing writing prompts. Please join me - I'd love to read your responses!

Today's prompt is this photo, which I took at Little Moreton Hall (Cheshire, UK)

Windows. That was the first impression. So many of them, row upon row, every pane delicately shaped and outlined in lead. They were set into huge panels, each as big as a man with his arms stretched wide, supported by lattices of dark-stained wood. With the unexpected angles of the walls, the house became a faceted crystal cluster, a conglomeration of prisms shot through with aged oak.

It was the kind of place you could explore forever and never know all its nooks and crannies. Over the centuries, walls had been pushed out, nipped in, rooftops realigned and doorways rearranged, until the entire building became a palimpsest of past fashions. Voids were left where the latest vision didn't quite align with the old one, hidden spaces where last generation's wallpaper still clung unseen. There were rooms rendered into irregular-sided cubbyholes, others made vast and cavernous, flooded with glassy rainbows.

Outside, the courtyard was a-bustle with people. Neat cobblestones clattered with footfalls and resounded with the low murmur of voices. The eaves caught the sounds and held them, oddly muffled by the old timbers. They leaned together in conspiracy, as if whispering of all they had heard. Perhaps if a person could climb up there, scale the overhangs of wood and plaster to press their ear beneath the gables, they might hear secrets of ages past still repeated among the tiles.

[voidplus-jp]

「冨樫達彦 “Fahrenheit” by 灯明 / Lavender Opener Chair」 2024.8.11（Fri）― 8.13（Sun）

void+eavesでは8月11日（金・祝）から13日（日）まで「冨樫達彦 “Fahrenheit” by 灯明 / Lavender Opener Chair」を開催します。日頃、アーティスト・ラン・レストラン「灯明」(西尾久)で料理を担当するアーティスト、冨樫達彦が食べられる作品(etable art)としての“アイスクリーム”を発表します。冨樫が活動初期より一貫して興味を持ち、アムステルダム留学時代の卒業制作展でも取り組んだ味覚や臭覚や嗅覚によって鑑賞をする作品のひとつとして発表したものを、日本の風土や素材に合わせて アップデートした新作となります。 ----------------------------

＜開催概要＞ タイトル：「冨樫達彦 “Fahrenheit” by 灯明 / Lavender Opener Chair」 会期：2023年8月11日（金/祝日）- 8月13日（日）12:00~18:00 会場：void+eaves （東京都港区南青山3-16-14, 1F ディレクション：杉原寛 キュレーション：兼平彦太郎 お問合せ：info@voidplus.jp

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＜アーティストプロフィール＞ 冨樫達彦（とがしたつひこ） 1992年山形県生まれ。 東京都を拠点に活動。 2018年サンドベルグ・インスティチュート・ファインアート専攻修了。

主な展覧会： 「Eat your school, don’t do vegetable」(Tokyo Arts and Space 本郷、東京、2022) 「Never the Same Ocean - あるいは、46億年目のミューテーション-」（HAGIWARA PROJECTS、東京、2021） 「Lavender Hair」（im labor、東京、2021）

[justrandomfanfictionskh]

A Blue Bird and A Black Cat pt2

Selina decides that Marinette would be better as the Cat than Adrien. Five years, later Dick is very confused about this Lady Noire

ao3 previous

Five years after the defeat of Hawkmoth...

Marinette took a deep breath looked up at the looming Gotham Museum of History from her chosen alleyway. It was a beautiful building in the daylight, and she loved sketching it. But under the light polluted Gotham smog filled sky, it was a black silhouette of edges and void. Her heart was racing in nervous anticipation, as she waited for the patrol car to slowly move past. As she waited she checked her compass again. It pointed directly at the museum, with such perfect stillness that the arrow might as well have been glued down. There was a miraculous in there, waiting for her. She was going to steal it and then crash a party. She smiled as she imagined her mentor's face upon their reunion. But first things first, she needed to focus on...liberating the ancient and powerful artifact that was technically hers. 

She closed her eyes, and found her Lady Noire persona. Lady Noire was calm and confident, because nothing effected her. Words, danger, laws they tried to drown her, but all they ever did was wash off her shoulders. She laughed as she jumped from buildings. She smiled as the cops chased her. She snickered when she got away without anyone being the wiser. She was a shadow in the night that reveled in the chaos she left in her wake. 

"You ready cupcake?" Plagg said with a mischievous grin, and an eager light in his eyes.

Lady Noire opened her eyes. A predatory smile flickered of her face as she looked over at her prey. She could feel the chaos energy rising within her, calling her to act, to run, to jump, to laugh. Chaos was not bound, and neither was she. She was as light as a feather, and ready to fly. "Hell yeah," she said, "Plagg! Claws Out!"

Nightwing lay on his back watching the sky, twirling his escrima sticks lazily as the warm Gotham breeze ruffled his hair. He was board. Usually his nights were a lot more active than this. But there was a new exhibit, which meant someone was going to try and steal something. Now usually smart money would be on Catwoman making an appearance, even though there were no cat pieces in this collection. However, Selina was with Robin tonight, attempting some mother and son bonding before the engagement party tomorrow. Nightwing was glad that that was going so well. Baby Bird had really come a long way. But Catwoman's shift from chaotic neutral to chaotic good didn't mean that no one would show up. Afterall the signature piece, a vambrace that had apparently been owned by Kublai Khan, was decidedly bird themed, which meant Penguin. So that meant someone had to sit up on the Museum roof all night and make sure nobody tried anything. And by somebody, they meant Nightwing. After all, he was the only one who wouldn't pitch a fit and leave halfway through the night (Jason, and Damian), or fall asleep from caffeine deprivation (Tim).

Although, he couldn't really complain, it was a nice night for a stakeout. If the city wasn't so bright, he might see stars, but that would require the clouds to disappear. But the breeze was nice, and at least it wasn't raining. Still he was so bored. Nightwing groaned and jumped up. He decided to walk on his hands for a bit, to get the blood pumping. He then did a couple of front flips followed by back flips, to keep his body awake. But that didn't change the soothing Gotham ambience of car horns, police sirens, and the distant peels of gunfire that threatened to put him to sleep. Jason's gang must be fighting Black Mask again, Nightwing thought absently. He didn't approve of his brother's ways, but he would never condemn them the way Bruce did. After all, he himself had killed the Joker. Of course B had...

Nightwing's thoughts were interrupted by a shadow's movement beyond the museum's skylight. He crouched down into the shadow of one of the eaves, watching the building below him cautiously. There were about ten displays in the middle of the floor, each surrounded by a field of intercrossing lasers. It was the light of the lasers that allowed Nightwing to see the signature piece surrounded by equally valuable artifacts. A gold vambrace, with a hawk embossed in the metal. Any one of those pieces would be worth millions of dollars to the right collector. But none of these things were what had caught Nightwing's attention, but the shadow wasn't there any more. Slowly, he pulled out his binoculars and zoomed in. He sighed. Nothing seemed amiss...except. He zoomed in closer. The motion sensors were disabled. And the cameras were off. That wasn't right. Where were the guards? This couldn't be Penguin. He wouldn't cut the security cameras. He liked making a spectacle. He'd crash into the museum on a tank if he could. So who had...

Nightwing froze. A shadow was moving again, silent and slow towards the lasers. Could it be the Shade, he thought, no it's too small...maybe-- Nightwing gasped as the laser light illuminated enough of the figure to see them. He blinked and looked again, zooming in his binoculars as much as he could. Confused he shook his head and pressed his coms. He flinched as Batman and Red Hood yelled at each other through the comms. They were saying something about a warehouse...Nightwing shook his head, that could wait, right now he had a very pressing problem on his mind. So he interrupted the argument with a firm, "Hey! Does anyone have a lock on Catwoman?"

The voices cut off in confusion as Catwoman purred, "Robin and I are just finishing up on 5th."

"Some filthy degenerates were trying to take advantage of some young girls," the curt and formal Rodin confirmed. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, umm," Nightwing said not daring to take his eyes off of the figure. "In that case...I'm just going to say it...Catwoman, since when did you have a clone?" Confused and startled yelling berated him through the comm, but he left all of their questions unanswered. He really didn't know how else to describe what he was seeing. The figure who had melted from the shadows was a perfect carbon copy of Selina, except younger and perhaps with a more stylish costume. She had the same black leather cat suite, mask, and cat ears. However, this new Catwoman (Cat Girl?) had accented her suite with bright green piping, and she had forgone the cowl. Instead, her ebony black hair fell to a braid that was almost to her ankles, and she leaned casually against a silver bow staff as she studied the complex laser grid.

"There's no way she's going to get through those, with that braid," he vaguely thought, before once again he was startled out of his thoughts by what was actually happening in front of him. The woman had collapsed her staff, and was now flipping through the lasers with the elegant, and graceful precision of an Olympic gymnast. Nightwing's breath caught as he watched, her bend, flex, and spin through the lasers in an act, that Nightwing could only describe as pure artistry. He watched as her long braid twisted around her like a ribbon flicking through the laser lazily without ever touching them. He was so captivated by her performance that he almost didn't register what her dance was leading her to. But then she stopped, as she flipped into a catlike crouch in front of the signature piece. 

Nightwing stiffened as he watched Catwoman 2 flick our her claws. As she circled the glass display, with the golden vambrace glistening inside, he waited. It would be so easy to jump through the sky light, tripping the alarms, and stopping her right then and there. But a strange fascination, and curiosity over took him. He wanted to see how she got out of this. Would he get to see an encore of her laser performance, or did she have another way out? And how was she going to bypass the pressure plate in the display. His questions were answered when she scratched holes in the glass, in what had to be a Selina signature move. She then took some cord from her belt and secured the pressure plate in place. Then delicately, she removed the Falcon Vambrace, and put something else in its place. Nightwing zoomed in with his binoculars and had to choke back a laugh. It was a black cat plushie, with it's tongue sticking out. The plushie must have been weighted, because when she removed the cords, the alarms did not go off. 

Nightwing finally registered what his family was shouting in his ear, as Cat Woman 2 examined the vambrace. He cut them off by whispering harshly, "Yeah I said Catwoman clone, fake ears and all! She just snagged the Falcon Vambrace. I don't know how she plans to get out with it though...oh wait, never mind."

Nightwing watched in fascination, as the woman pulled out her staff again and braced it on the ground. Then silently, and gracefully she rose into the sky as her staff extended to an impossible height. Was it magic?, he thought, that would explain the hair. As the woman began fiddling with the skylight's hatch, a security guard passed by the room. He barely registered the brand new silver pole in the middle of the room. When he did turn around with a start, Catwoman 2 was already crouched on the glass, her staff collapsed to a baton size beside her. She tilted her head as the security guard, shook his head and carried on his way. When she did Nightwing had to stifle a gasp. Her eyes were green, completely green. They had no whites, and the pupils were slitted just like a real cats. Now that's dedication, he thought. And when he saw the woman smirk gleefully at the oblivious security, Nightwing could only stare in wonder at how much she was like Selina. 

As she rose, Nightwing knew it was time to move. He just needed to make the perfect quip to gain her attention. But as she stood illuminated by the contrasting colors of the moon and Gotham, his mind went blank. Everything he thought of just sounded corny and stupid in his head. But he needed to stop her, or at least stall her for a while. So as she admired the way the gold bracelet adorned her black sleeved arm, Nightwing decided to bite the bullet, as he turned off his comms. He had a feeling that he needed to focus for this, as he said, "You know if you have a magic staff that can extend to the ceiling, you really didn't have to do the laser dance." 

The woman spun faster than Nightwing thought possible. Her pupils were slitted, and her staff was extended. However, when she perceived him, she did something unexpected. She seemed to relax, and she straightened out of her defensive posture, with a sly smile playing on her lips. "Perhaps," she said in a light and playful tone, "But then that wouldn't have been nearly as much fun!"

God! It's scary how much she's like Selina! Nightwing thought. Or at least, she was almost exactly like the old Selina. The one he had met, when he was just starting out as Robin. The one who stole on a whim, and escaped with a wink and a smile. He had never understood why Bruce never caught her. Sometimes, it was like he didn't even try. Now...he had a feeling that if she kept smiling at him like that, and with that mischievous sparkle in her eye, he would start to understand. Immediately he became serious. The last thing he wanted was to be like Bruce. He didn't think he could take the emotional constipation, or the mocking of his siblings. 

"I don't think that belongs to you," he said glancing at the vambrace. 

"Oh?" the woman said almost innocently, "Strange. Then who does it belong to?"

"The Museum," Nightwing said slowly.

"Hmm," she hummed as she moved her head lazily from side to side, "No, that doesn't sound right. This most definitely belongs to me. After all, I am wearing it!"

"Doesn't change the facts Miss. So why don't you hand it over, before I'm forced to hit a Lady."

The woman threw her head back and laughed, "Sorry Blue Bird, but I can't do that. You see this lovely piece really does belong to me. And it would truly be a crime to just leave it there collecting dust. Besides you couldn't hit me even if you tried!" 

Nightwing smirked, "We'll see about that. By the way, stealing someone else's shtick, not smart. Especially Catwoman's, she's very protective of her image."

The woman's smile deepened as she said, "Oh I wouldn't worry about Catwoman. She and I have an...understanding. And if you don't believe me, you can always ask her once I'm gone. Tell her Lady Noire says high. I'm sure she'll fill you in." 

"You can tell her your self," Nightwing said, and he threw his escrima stick at her. She dodged both the throw and the rebound as she charged him. Nightwing caught his stick in time to block her staff, and the dance began. She swung her staff, he blocked. He swiped his sticks she dodged. Their movements were a fluid furry of kicks, jabs, and flips. and Nightwing found that their styles were eerily similar as they both blended skilled and perfected gymnastics with graceful and fluid martial arts. They both dodged more than they blocked, and each attack flowed directly into the next without hesitation or difficulty. Nightwing wanted to smile at the ease at which the moved together, predicting the others movements and responding with accuracy. But then he saw the way she was grinning at him, and he scowled. She was playing with him! This was a game to her, and for some reason he found that very annoying.

 Well, he thought, Two can play at that game! And he shifted his movements so that when her staff came round again, he dropped his escrima stick and caught her arms under his. He elecrified his second stack and swung it at her side. It was block by...her hair! He started, and she smirked as she collapsed her staff, and used both of her feet to push off him like a spring board. The force of her kick, made him hiss and release her arms. He stumbled back, as she did a back handspring. He stood clutching his side scowling, and she stood ginning like the cat that ate the canary. She extended her staff behind her and her braid flicked like a tail. 

Of course, he thought, She's magic. The staff's magic, and her hair is magic. I bet her eyes are magic too. He met her strange green eyes, and her smile widened. And just as she opened her mouth (probably to say something clever), Nightwing straightened and smirked. He held up the vambrace with two fingers, and he let his smirk deepen as he watched the flurry of emotions pass over her face, as she looked between him and her now bare wrist. Her gaze narrowed as he tucked the artifact into his belt. And before he could say anything clever, she attacked again. 

They fell into the same easy, violent dance as they played around each other. He swung, she dodged. She kicked, he flipped. He hit, she diverted. She swiped, and he blocked. Only now there was a new pattern to their movements. Lady Noire had shortened her staff, so that she was holding an escrima stick, and with her now free hand, every other attack was accompanied, by her reaching for his belt. He fended off her empty hand, with his empty hand, spinning her around into a stone wall, but she flipped out of his grip at the last moment. Their movements were a lot closer now as a result, but Nightwing did not have time to think about that as she was getting faster and bolder. The claws on her empty hand was out, and while she still smirked and grinned, it was clear she was no longer playing. He had taken something that she had deemed hers, and now she was going to get it. 

Nightwing couldn't keep this up forever, and he was certain, that Lady Noire had more than magic hair on her side, and he did not want to find out what. So he led their dance back towards the skylight and the repeating eaves. He waited, until he had the right angle, and then he pressed a button on his controller. His abandoned escrima stick flew into his waiting hand, fully charged and bristling with activity. Lady Noire dodged the flying weapon with another back hand spring, but this time she landed in a crouch. She watched Nightwing from atop the eaves with calculating green eyes that did not seem to blink. Nightwing felt the goosebumps cover his arms, as the mental image of a cat stalking a mouse flickered through his head. Nightwing fell into his most defensive stance, keeping his weapons elecrified. They held the tension in perfect stillness. Nothing moved except for the flicking of Lady Noire's braid. Nightwing loosened his grip on his weapon. Lady Noire extended her staff. He rose his weapon to attack. She coiled her muscles to pounce. He charged, and...

"Kitten!" Catwoman's sudden voice, made Nightwing trip on thin air as he stumbled forward. He turn the trip into a spin, so that he faced Catwoman, Batman, Robin, and Orphan, who were all watching them with varying levels of confusion and curiosity.

However, before Nightwing could say anything, Lady Noire pounced with a squealed, "Lina!" And she jumped into Cat Woman's open arms. The two women laughed and spun as they embraced, leaving the rest of the family staring open mouthed in wonder and confusion. 

"What are you doing here?!" Catwoman exclaimed, as she began smoothing Lady Noire's hair, checking for wounds, and generally mother-henning her, (or maybe it was mother catting her?). 

"Why I'm here for your wedding of course!" Lady Noire exclaimed. "You didn't think I would miss it did you?!" 

"But you never responded! I didn't think you got it, since I didn't know where you were, and--"

"And I was going to surprise you!" Lady Noire interrupted. "At your engagement party!"

"And here I was thinking, you just came to steal the vambrace," Catwoman laughed.

"Well," Lady Noire said with a devious smile, "That too." 

The two women laughed, as the Bats exchanged looks. Nightwing shrugged helplessly at Batman's questioning gaze, prompting the Dark Knight interrupt the little reunion by clearing his throat. "I hate to interrupt," he said gruffly, "But Catwoman, care to introduce us?"

"Oh of course!" Catwoman exclaimed, turning he young friend to face the others. "Everyone this is my protégé, Lady Noire! Lady Noire, these are the Bats. You met Nightwing! And that is Orphan, Robin. And this is my fiancé, Batman!" 

Lady Noire squealed and pounced. Even Batman's eyes widened in surprise when the small feline wrapped him in a hug that had her hanging off of his neck. He stooped to set her down, and as he did everyone heard her in the worst stage whisper, "If you ever hurt her I will turn you into dust!" And then in a regular voice she said, "I'm so happy for you! You're going to be so happy together!" And then in another stage whisper, "Because if she is not, then they will never find your body." 

When Batman pulled back, his expression schooled into a blank stare (which was the closest he ever got to showing alarm), Lady Noire laughed and tumbled away from him, her braid circling around her as it had when she danced through the lasers. When she straightened, she had something in her hand. She eyed it saying, "Ooo, what's this?" She pressed a button, and the Batmobile roared to life in the distance. A wicked grin spread over her face, as Batman began patting his belt, and the others stared at her in alarm.

"Give that back!" Nightwing cried. He lunged to grab the Batmobile key, before the wild thief could get any ideas. But Lady Noire only giggled, she spun around his arm brushing up against his back as they switched places. 

"But I like it!" She whined playfully, and Nightwing felt himself growl. He was so confused. One minute, she was laughing and teasing as if this was all a game. The next minute, she's threatening Batman! She just could not get a read on her. Was she an adrenaline junkie like the old Selina, who stole for the thrill of it. Or was she that deadly predator, that he had caught a glimpse of in the last moments of their fight. The threat might have been just a playful warning, her version of the shovel talk, but there was an edge to her voice, that made Nightwing think, She could do it. If B hurts Selina, which he won't, she could and would kill him. It was unnerving, and they way she just switched back to teasing and laughing, just made it worse. Which was the real her? Who even was she? What did she want? The questions swirled in his head, giving him a head ache. He just did not know what to do with this strange woman and it was...infuriating. 

Lady Noire continue to fiddle with the key, smiling at him deviously. But before he could lunge at her, Catwoman said coolly, "Kitten, play nice." Lady Noire fake pouted and then tossed the key to Nightwing before returning to her mentor. "So," Catwoman continued as if nothing had happened, "How long are you here for?"

"At least until your wedding," Lady Noire declared. "I wouldn't miss it for the world. But don't worry about me! I'm staying with Harls and Ives. And I'm already settled there, so no trying to guilt me into staying with you."

"Oh! But Kitten!" Catwoman whined, "I like worrying about you! Why won't you let me take care of you?"

Lady Noire laughed as she hugged her mentor, "You have taken more than enough care of me, Lina! I owe you everything, so please let me take care of you these next few weeks!" Catwoman hummed her assent as she held the young woman close. The Bats exchanged more looks of confusion and concern. But before any of them could interrupt, Catwoman jerked up and exclaimed, 

"Oh! You were in the museum tonight! How was it? Did you find what you were looking for?"

Lady Noire smiled. "Actually, yes! Tell me what do you think? I might just wear it to the wedding." She held up her wrist, and the moonlight glinted off the gold vambrace on her arm. 

Nightwing sputtered and stuttered, as he checked his belt. When had she taken that?! He wondered. He looked up, and she was smirking at him again. He scowled. and said allowed, "That doesn't belong to you!"

"Actually," Lady Noire said slowly. "I kind of does."

"It's true!" Catwoman declared, examining the vambrace. "This artifact does belong to her." 

Nightwing opened his mouth, but it was Batman who said in a much calmer tone. "If that is true, then there are other, more legal, way to recover your property."

Lady Noire smiled, "That may be so, but the museums would never give them up. Besides I don't like all that legal, paper work stuff. It's far to boring! It's much easier to...liberate them. and much more fun!"

"Still," Batman said gruffly, "We can not just let you walk away with a priceless artifact without proof."

"Of course you can!" Lady Noire declared cheerfully. "It's just a matter of you looking over there!" She pointed away towards Gotham with the most fake innocent smile Nightwing thought he had ever seen. Batman seemed to share in his son's annoyance, because he refused to follow her instructions, and instead chose to inflict her with the infamous Batglare. "No really," Lady Noire said again. "You should really look over their. Something is coming!"

"She's right love," Catwoman said lowering her binoculars. She handed them to B who looked briefly.

'Penguin," Batman sighed, already tried, even though he had barely done anything that night. Still he pushed on, giving out orders quickly and efficiently until he turned back to address Lady Noire, and...she was gone.

"Where did she go?!" Nightwing demanded. 

"Huh?" Catwoman said with mock innocence, "Oh! Don't worry, Nightwing, you'll see her tomorrow. If I know my protégé, she has plans to crash the party. Oh! I am so glad she's here. I've missed her so much!"

She then leapt off the roof to go and chase Penguin, leaving the rest of the family, to stew and follow at their own leisure. Nightwing was the last to follow, and he barely paid attention to the fight he was currently in. Not that anyone could blame him. After fighting with Lady Noire, everyone else just seemed like an amateur. He cursed himself thinking, "Stop that! If your not carful you'll turn into Bruce!"

Meanwhile on the far side of Gotham, a girl struggled, fought, and screamed as she was dragged someplace no one would "interrupt" them. Soon the bag was removed from her head, and the girl began speaking quickly and loudly. "You have to let me go! Please! I didn't do anything wrong! I---"

"Peace Miss. Rossi," the Judge of Owls said cutting her off. "Your powers do not work here, so do not attempt them, unless you wish to feel the wrath of the Talons." Lila Rossi looked back and forth between the council in front of her and the Talons behind. 

"What do you want?" she asked meekly.

The Judge smiled, though she would not see it under his white owl mask. If he did not know any better he might have believed her. But he did know better, and after taking some...precautions, Lila Rossi had no power over him at the very least. Still he answered her question simply and professionally. "You come highly recommended, Miss. Rossi. It is not easy to impress the likes of Vandal Savage and Lex Luthor. For that reason, we wish to hire you." 

Any semblance of the weak, helpless girl was gone in an instant. Instead there was a composed, professional, and hungry young woman waiting calmly, as one of the Talons, began untying her. The Judge could not help but respect the young woman in front of him. Once the woman's binds were gone, she straightened in her chair, and looked them over with a calculating look. She crossed her legs and then sat as if preparing for a work interview. The Judge could respect that as well. And he put a little of that into his voice, as he said, "We the Court of Owls, have many enemies, and competitors. Our goals are simple, but these weak minded individuals continue to hinder our process. We have curated a list, of our most obstinate obstacles. We do not want anything too drastic, just that you use your unique persuasion, to nudge them towards our understanding. Do you accept?"

A mindless thrall stepped forward with a tablet, presenting it to the woman. She stared at him and the tablet without touching it, and turned back to the Judge. "You are of course aware of my contract? Bound in blood and magic. Unbreakable. Swears you won't kill me if I fail."

"Yes," the Judge said. "We have seen the copy of Mr. Luthor's contract. And we find your terms more than agreeable. You will be payed according to how many of those names you will be able to 'persuade.' And should you fail, no harm will come of you by our hands. " 

Lila nodded. "In that case I must insist you sign, before I take your list. There are limits to my abilities, and I would rather we have our expectations clear before we continue," she said reaching into her bag once it was brought to her. She pulled out a thick stack of what appeared to be paper, but on closer inspection, was revealed to be very thin leather. 

The Judge was the first to sign his name, and the rest of the court followed suit. They needed this girl. When it was done, Lila smiled a deadly predatory smile and took the tablet. She scanned the names casually. However as she kept going, her eye brow raised higher and higher into her bangs. Finally she said, “With a list like this, you could take over all of Gotham, maybe even the world.”

The Judge’s eyes met Lila’s. And though she could not see through his mask, their expressions were a perfect mirror of each other as the Judge said, “Let’s just start with Gotham.

Next

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added)

@tails-and-scales @the-ghost-trader @kanamexzeroyaoifangirl @the-dumber-scaramouche @yoonjae20 @robyalix @seraphichana @iglowinggemma28 @taewinterbear95 @heretopasstimebi @littleblue5mcdork @quotesandanime @komatsuna-yuki @atractivemyfoot @death’ssilentapproach-blog @vel-vee @vixen-uchiha @lady-bee-fechin

[shizuturnspages]

August 3, 2024

02:22 a.m.

In the silence of the midnight hour,

When shadows dance and moonlight sours,

I lie awake with restless thoughts,

In tangled webs of past and naught.

The echoes of mistakes once made

Are whispers in the darkened shade,

A tapestry of dreams that fray,

The threads of hope begin to sway.

The future looms, a misty veil,

Its contours lost, its secrets frail,

And in the void, the numbness grows,

A chilling wind that softly blows.

Where once-familiar feelings kneel.

Of time that turns its endless wheel,

Lost faces drift like autumn leaves,

Their memories tangled in the eaves,

In the expand of quiet night,

Where shadows stretch and stars ignite,

I drift amidst the empty sea,

A hollow shell, no more than me.

[chichiricatsan]

| "The Ribbon" || The Stupendium (ft. Cami-Cat) |

At the edge of understanding, the border of the known The breaking point of reason, where logic is dethroned Where sense is defenseless and festers on the bone One writer fights a cycle, trying to write a way back home In Night Springs Tonight’s episode: "The Ribbon"

We open, our protagonist, brash, pragmatic, fantasist Trapped within a cabin, frantic, grappling with a manuscript Passionately grasping for a catalyst but the syntax isn’t landing Grabs the draft out from the carriage and abandons it Hе doesn’t really know quite what hе’s writing, but he has to Sits enraptured in the flow of what he’s typing Cramping wrists, his hands in fits The hammers slam the characters, they writhe and dance and twist But never seem to parse more than "surviving" As the grammar shifts A bulb, it flickers for a moment, darkness falls for just a second But it lingers, forms unspoken, hark the call, the shadows beckon Swallowed dawn, still all-consuming, every corner lurking, looming Hear the ichor hymns so soothing as the screaming silence deafens Another page, a hurried scrawl, a night replays, a dozen more Another failed and crumpled ball of "almost, maybe" on the floor Framed within the maze within the print His escape from all this hinges on which page becomes the door

Existence is cast in the answers we write To riddles in chapters that can’t be defined Pigment of black and the parchment of white The figments they track through the dark to the light The hammers and keys and the patterns they weave The fragments of me that they trap in between We all have to write on the pages we’re given But you can’t live life on both sides of the ribbon Tied to the ribbon

Legacy, it is the dream of any creative to leave their mark Indelible, on the world around them (Which side of the ribbon?) But be careful what marks such an obsession might leave on you

Another chapter opens, but our hero isn’t sure If the pattern is unbroken, has he penned this page before? Is he writing what he’s lived or now reliving what he’s written? Every end with failed beginnings, cast adrift within the lore On a lake that turned to ocean, drowning under weight of legacy When any sentence could be sentenced as the last they ever see Our pages pass relentless, count or not, there is no remedy And so, he sits again, attempts to pen pre-emptive threnody Amorphous in memoriam, in effigy uncertain Unsure if all this really is himself, at least, a version? But these whispers grip the narrative Treat sense with bleak aversion Tendrils bend and break immersion Twisting cursive through recursion His words branch out in paths too dark to follow through trees With pages piled so high, he’s lost the forest for leaves No saying what’s to believe, it doesn’t want him to leave And so these pages end up bound to make the story repeat

Wake up, day starts as the night falls See what dark part of your mind calls You can’t fight what you write and you write what we like Find the light, you might see how the bright fall (You'll need the proper tools to get a proper service) (You won't believe the things that hide) (Right there beneath the surface) Hopelessly floating through tomes with no way of knowing If you are composing or you’re just quoting The prose you’re sewing Ergo ergodic, eroding your ego Going for broke but just broken (No fixer-upper like the coffee pot a-flowin') A hero’s journey burdened by the characters deployed When all your thousand faces are so narratively void Were the adjectives employed worth the marriage you destroyed? (You know huntin' is a hobby the whole family can enjoy)

Deep in the dark and winding eaves of your mind Read from a saga, blind but reaching in kind Leads down a path where leaves and secrets entwine Even apart, two heroes, one storyline Small town - And I know the narrative conventions Establishing shots in the dark A plot with an arc beyond all comprehension I’ll be the first person to admit the present is tense and Not sure if I’ll get these words to fit the presence descending I hear it calling my name, I feel me falling away Chasing these pages but questioning my agency Tasked with a story to break I hear it calling my name, I feel me falling away Am I a character? Actor? A passenger? Cast from the shores of a lake?

Existence is cast in the answers we write To riddles in chapters that can’t be defined Pigment of black and the parchment of white The figments they track through the dark to the light The hammers and keys and the patterns they weave The fragments of me that they trap in between We all have to write on the pages we’re given But you can’t live life on both sides of the ribbon Tied to the ribbon

Creativity, it is the impetus of any artist To pour themselves into their work (Which side of the ribbon?) But pour too much And you might not like what you find at the bottom of the bottle...

Our hero, once again attempts to find the words he lacks And peers between the lines to see the lines observing back A scratch all too familiar and, oh! The surface cracks What’s the matter, Alan? We can’t both be worthless hacks Now, I know what you’re thinking "This is crazy! Oh, he can’t exist!" You could have made a killing Just embraced a little masochist ‘Stead you’re dried up Trying to earn a living from a manuscript But have you tried for just one second Living as the man you script? I’m the parts you were ashamed of, I’m the parts you tried to fight I’m the parts you told yourself didn’t keep you awake at night I’m the part of you that’s better, you just can’t concede I’m right So, you poured me into pages, then I guess I’m just your type You meld work with your self-worth But tell me, what does that sell for? And was the journey through Hell worth How short you fell on the bell curve? Then one day they’ll forget you, ooh! But I’ve stories to tell first ‘Cause I’m that face that you gave them to be you And baby, I’m well versed What am I when you’re already a shadow of yourself? Tell me who would look at this And then take that down off the shelf? You had it, buddy! All of it! The fame, the glam, the wealth But what’s it worth if you won’t play the hand the round has dealt? "Nightmares don’t use logic" Yeah, we know that you can read Sat there hoping for the credits But it’s me who’s supposed to lead All that hokum in your head But where’s the quote to make you see? That perhaps you're antithetical to the poetry of me!

Existence is cast in the answers we write To riddles in chapters that can’t be defined Pigment of black and the parchment of white The figments they track through the dark to the light The hammers and keys and the patterns they weave The fragments of me that they trap in between We all have to write on the pages we’re given But you can’t live life on both sides of the ribbon Tied to the ribbon, the ribbon, the ribbon, the ribbon Which side of the ribbon, the ribbon, the ribbon, the ribbon?

Another chapter ended, but not an arc adjourned A narrative repeating for a plot he can’t discern He’s writing a Departure, but he’s still yet to learn That every line he starts must always end at the Return

And there you have it A vicious cycle scored by the hammer of keys And the ring of the typewriter A writer cursed to relive his own words Trapped in a world of his own making A novel concept Everyone likes to get lost in a good book But be careful what you read In Night Springs

[50cal-fullauto-astarion]

Rags babes I need you to tell me more about long dick of the law, the title is fucking hilarious 🫶🏻

GDGDHD THANK YOU KEZ IM SO HAPPY TO SEE THE HOMETOWN BLOG 😭😭🥰🥰

SO. Dfjjdfj. I didn’t write as much of it as I’d thought, here’s the snippet and entirety of it that I’ve already shared:

A splinter-tenth of the wizard’s attention is focused on the void at the bench, where the Magistrate Judge had sat before calling on the lawspeakers for a meeting in his chambers, and for the gods-forsaken windows to be thrown open to get some air moving in the courtroom. Morning had been cool enough to call out the mourning doves—looping coos in drifting circles from their nests in the eaves of tall buildings in the lower city—but the sun had arced over the sea, and Baldur’s Gate fucking cooked.

So that means you get director’s commentary!

Right so Astarion ends up, being the little shit-ass he is, fining Yder’s husband, Kus’Tavin (Tav), double the amount of the bounty. It sends him into a fucking RAGE, and he tries to basically jump over the bench and attack Astarion. He’s arrested, and Astarion not only doubles the fine, but sentences Tav to 6 months of hard labor as he’s carried out of the courtroom. Yder’s allowed to plead Tav’s case, and boy does she try, but at the time she only speaks Sylvan (and Elvish).

Astarion gets his panties in a twist over the Sylvan, being the bigot he is, and has an Elvish translator do their thing for the courtroom which is kind of pointless other than to be humiliating. Yder, my good girl, is more angry than humiliated and she keeps her cool, doing her best. Too bad it’s still Astarion though lmao.

He calls another recess and smth smth they end up on the sidewalk outside together catching some breeze. Astarion warns her that men like her husband only get worse, and she goes smth like, “And men like you don’t?” It’s very unpleasant until it cuts to the present, where they’re drinking around a fire, and they put two and two together and realize that well, shit.

[faepunkprince]

"Crave" for valentine :3c

"Collapse" for Caine >:3c

I'm gonna give Caine his own post for sake of length but here's Crave for Valentine!!

Socked feet drag listlessly along the cold tile of his floor, Valentine finally dragging himself up and to his small kitchen in search of anything that'll grab his interest- please, something please, food, drink, something to do, anything! But, for the thousandth time today, all that meets him in the kitchen is the very same weight of crushing boredom and restlessness that's hung on him like a cloak since he first opened his eyes this morning. 

There's something he wants to do, something itching at the back of his skull, digging at him, setting him pacing round and round and round til he makes himself dizzy, and still he hasn't a clue what it is. A familiar itch, a craving, no matter how many times he feels it he'll never get used to it, and it's never as easy as just doing whatever satisfied it last time..

Valentine huffs a soft sigh and rakes his fingers through messy green strands. "Maybe outside?" He mutters to himself, pulling on some joggers- padded in the knees, they're a favorite when he's out fucking around- and a loose tank. Out the door with no plan, he's hoping stretching his legs will inspire something. He takes the familiar route out of his apartment, down the elevator and stairs, and out the main doors, the lights and sounds and smells hitting him all at once, Jesus fucking christ on a cracker how is it even possible to be under and overwhelmed at the same damn time?

With barely a thought into it he calls his bike, hopping on and speeding off toward a whole lot of nothing in particular, but that wind in his hair, oh baby it feels just fucking right, but something's still missing. This time when he guns it, it's with purpose, skidding to a halt behind a place that used to be some themed bar or another and now sits empty, like so many other buildings in this part of town. A quick glance around confirms his usual route is still there and with a running leap, he pulls himself up onto the roof of the place, shimmying up the skeleton of an old billboard for a better view, eyes scanning quickly over buildings and piping and any other number of things he can use to get where he's going..

Maybe.. from here to the park? Yeah. That feels right. Another leap and he's off, grabbing at the eaves of the next, and its slow going at first, it always is, but soon he's soaring, wind through his hair and empty air under him and that's it! The freedom, the danger, that's what he was looking for. Any little stumble, wrong footing, a stray bit of trash and he could have a significantly worse night, and it wouldn't be the first time. Prone to leaping before he looks- which is why he slows himself down now-- he's had plenty of slips and trips, pulled muscles and broken bones and still almost nothing gives him the same sense of complete freedom.

Valentine keeps on, moving into more crowded bits of the city now, flying as if born a bird, they'd simply forgot to give him his wings, you know, but he doesn't let that stop him, and he doesn't stop, til he's perched at the top of an office building, looking out over everything.

Time and time again he's seen it and it still takes his breath away. Neon and chrome, all glittering in the dimming light, setting sync glinting off the glass of the buildings, scattering halos. His chest heaves, gulping down lungfuls of air, arms given a moment of rest shaking in- effort? Fear? Oh, this would've killed him as a kid. Everyone on the street below looks like an itty bitty dot! It makes his stomach turn, makes the butterflies in him go wild. The lights are prettier from up here, the sounds softened. He'll ignore the few office workers he's definitely given a shock, ignore the call to the void that's ever present. Take a moment and soak it all in. Let himself breathe, and just be. Few and far between, these precious minutes, and soon he'll make his way back down, and hey, since he's around, pick up some sushi for his troubles. 

The next time he graces his door, he's in a much better mood, humming along to himself while he lets himself in and gets himself settled. Pays to follow baser instincts sometimes, he figures. Gotta take yourself on a walk, now and then. What is he if not an overgrown mutt of a thing? At least now he's got a belly full of sushi.

[houndaelyn]

So another follow-up question! How does voidsent Rummy work? Or, more accurately, how did he get summoned and not get merked or banished back to the void the moment someone found him to be a menace to Eorzia?

that became a lot

So void rummy is this star-slathered ancient mass of writhing void beast who, like many, was summoned over the veil. At this first point Rummy was freshly coalesced into being and, knowing no better, promptly devoured his would be benefactors/pact makers. This allowed him to linger, learn, but was not long in the material plane before he withered and slipped back. From that point, and this was thousands of years into Etheirys' past, his particular rite was know to be a bloody and terrible affair, those who sought him often sought slaughter and chaos and death. And Rummy reveled in it.

As he was known to devour summoners and reject host vessels that weren't living or to his liking, someone eventually figured out a way to bring him wholly to the source— more or less due to his changeable, amorphous nature, how he could be cleaved and separated and pared down to so little yet still exist. They more or less reached through to the void and shattered him, down to the smallest form he could take, sloughing off entire facets of his being, memories and might, in order to pull him over as true to most base form possible.

Expecting a creature of bloodlust and violence (just smol), his benefactor was… disappointed when the voidsent was less, at its core, a malevolent monster and more a curious creature. It did not occur to them that those were learned behaviours, that the most base instinct, after all its being was sheared clean, was that of wonder not malice.

Its that wonder, need to wander, that had him slip away, freed into the wider world. And there Rummy began to collect. Mostly people, or shards of their souls- usually those that died in combat, or who were given no rite to pass them on whole. He devoured what was left, absorbed the fragments unto himself, and began to grow. These fragments, however, were not as smooth and simple as just eating an orange slice. Yes, he benefited from the energy, but the dregs of the souls remained, shards of memories, experiences, feelings, all fleeting, none whole, amalgamated with his essence- ill bonded but inexorably bound.

This follows of his nature, malleable, a collector, a piecemeal being always seeking experiences to take and hold close. And while once more it made him extraordinarily difficult to kill, a hydra effect of fruitless head chopping, it also proved to work a madness into him, a chaos he cannot quiet, a cacophony of feelings and desires pulled in a thousand different directions. When he began to once again become a problem he was met by a witch, a being almost as ancient as he, who did not falter under promises of violence and suffering. She, instead, offered him a deal. A pact. She would give him clarity, purpose, a wherewithal he had never experienced, stability to his form, in exchange for his service.

Now Rummy is not a creature predisposed to predictability or servitude. Yet, her promise was sweet, foretold of the possibility of a new manner of existence, a new being he could sink his bloody teeth into and drink deep of a world he'd heretofore only wandered without aim.

Pact sealed, true to her word, Rummy was granted a sense of self never before known, a wholeness and temperance of his thousandfold desires. A ken of self. But he was given this by becoming sealed within a cairn, his own tomb. Well, a house, technically. He bonded to its wooden bones, inundated its eaves, spread his shadows into every dark corner and exercised his newfound power of focus by twisting its corridors, shuffling its interiors, and becoming of the place a terror to those within. In good fun ( to him ) of course.

( Think Baba Yaga, or Calcifer even )

This fun, as all things tend, was a temporary state. He was kept fed and upon the dark energy he generated the witch herself fed, revealing her own dark secret of longevity— Void-Eater. The house became his domain and he learned to move freely within it, he learned to cast himself into shapes defined, and in this he found endless delight. His avatars, however, could not far stray from the bounds of his binding and, as a creature becoming of greed, he began to resort to luring playthings to his ground when he bored or hungered. He was strictly not to do this, but forbidding him so was not much different than demanding water not be wet.

There's a little more to his history but that is ~secrets~ territory. Suffice it to say he resents his bargain and the witch and seeks more.