#wheelchair extention

[puerileaccismus]

[rotteneldritchhorror]

I will forever love Lydia barkrock as disabled rep in fantasy high

[todayisafridaynight]

everyday i constantly think of masato's wheelchair and if that's his only one/main one no wonder he's so pissed at everyone

[poisonandpages]

Some people may have forgotten those instances where people who were already dead were declared fit for work. I haven't.

[sherlock-is-ace]

.

[patchesjam]

I get hating people who use their phones while driving and it does bother me but his car is self driving so it bothers me significantly less when he does it tbh

tbh i really could not care less it is still illegal and still dangerous and i think until they are certified and truly labeled as fully automous it is still stupid to do so

[milkweedman]

Oregano update. Took an hour or so but i got all the stems. Need to tie them up and hang them to dry, probably. Tired though.

Also got some of the strawberry patch. Theres still quite a bit there, but someone left some old hanging baskets next to the dumpster and i wanted to take some strawberries with me, since im the one who planted them in the first place. Obviously theyre only hanging there temporarily. Not sure if i should trim the runners... i guess so, ive never put strawberries in hanging baskets before.

More handspun linen blanket work. Feels super nice, even though theres lots of, idk what it would be called but bits of undesirable vm that ought to have been threshed out. When im finished ill give it multiple good beatings and thrashings that should soften it up, and then im hoping to dye it with some oregon grapes.

I actually have a whole ton of dyestuff ive been collecting in the freezer that i need to turn into dye, bc im moving very soon and i dont want to be bringing bags of frozen berries and pits and peels with me.

Also gonna go harvest this in a minute--its a horrifically overgrown patch of oregano, and i read a few days ago that you can get a dark, almost black dye out of the dried stems. And i dont even like oregano as a spice, so... just gonna get the stems.

[casscainmainly]

So in Spirit World there's two separate panels that show Cass' family/loved ones. The first I think is more circulated:

The second is this one:

These line-ups are probably different due to space/convenience, but to overanalyse these panels for a bit, it's interesting who's present in which. Bruce, Steph, and Babs are present in both - makes sense, they're the most important figures in Cass' life. Steph is front and center in both, suggesting she really is Cass' favourite person ever.

Bruce is relatively big in the top panel, but much smaller in the bottom. The top panel explicitly is about "family," while the bottom is about people who "know and love you". Bruce becoming smaller suggests that Cass thinks of him as her dad, but the 'knowing' and 'loving' part isn't as secure for her. (This is probably not intentional but reflects their dynamic very well, particularly post-Cass being sent to HK and her unresolved feelings about that).

Babs is pretty big in both, and I love that she's Oracle here (the wheelchair in the bottom panel!!). This makes total sense - the time when Babs loved and cared for her most was when she was Oracle. Cass probably still sees and remembers her that way.

Onto the interesting stuff, which is Duke being missing for 'family' but present for 'know and love you'. I think he should be in the top panel, but maybe he's too new for Cass to consider him family? Everyone in the top panel is from the bg 2000 era, so Cass might think of that time as her true 'family'. Anyway, the fact he makes it into the bottom still shows they're close, and that Cass considers him someone who understands/'knows' her.

Dick and Tim being present for 'family' and missing for 'know and love you' is so fun. Tim maybe should be present in the bottom, but recent canon hasn't made them as close as they used to be (in BG 2000 and Red Robin). So they love each other, but not to the extent of anyone in the bottom panel; he's still definitively family though.

Dick is the same, but there's a lot more sibling rivalry and complicated feelings there. It makes total sense for Cass to see him as a brother, but to not think he 'knows' or 'loves' her all that much; they do get along, but I think they remember their mistakes with each other and think the other person still holds a grudge (they don't). Peak Dick-Cass dynamic to me!

So if I had to rank Cass' favourite people in the Batfam according to these panels, it'd be: 1. Steph 2. Babs 3. Bruce 4. Tim and/or Duke 5. Dick

[selene-writes]

You-Me-Us

AHHHH Hey guys! There's lots of Logan craze on here thought I would try writing. Should this be a series? Its short and there's lot of places to go from here.

You had known Logan for fifteen years—technically, that had been your entire life, or at least as much of it as you could remember. Your earliest memory was of his face peering down at you with a mixture of concern and relief. You were in some sort of ruined laboratory, your body aching with a pain you couldn’t fully comprehend. You didn’t even know your own name at the time. Instead, you went by Artemis, a name you had chosen for yourself, though Logan often called you "bub."

Like Logan, you were a mutant, endowed with the gift of regeneration. This ability made it impossible to determine your exact age. In addition to your regenerative powers, you possessed the unique ability to manipulate atoms. This rare skill granted you control over all elements, a power that made you incredibly unique and powerful.

You had both decided to stick together, united in your quest to uncover the truth about who you were and why you had ended up there. It was evident that something significant had happened to both of you, something that had rendered you both invincible. Despite the mysteries that surrounded your origins, the bond between you and Logan only grew throughout time.

As time passed, the nature of your relationship evolved in ways neither of you had anticipated. Somehow, amidst the chaos and the search for answers, you had found yourselves tumbling into bed with each other. While the physical connection had become a part of your lives, nothing had fundamentally changed, and you never talked about it.

Even as you navigated your complicated relationship, your focus remained on the shared mission: to piece together the truth about your past and understand the full extent of your powers. 

Everything happened so quickly. You and Logan were in the middle of your usual routine—hitting various bars and grifting people for money. It was a familiar pattern, one that had become almost comforting in its predictability. But that night, things took an unexpected turn.

A teenager—no older than seventeen—had sneaked into the back of your car. Her name was Rogue, and despite your initial reluctance, you and Logan ended up arguing about what to do with her. Logan, ever the soft-hearted one despite his gruff exterior, eventually agreed to give her a ride, though it was clear he would have done so regardless of your persuasion.

The situation quickly spiraled out of control. Out of nowhere—a caveman-like brute—attacked you. Logan was momentarily knocked out in the chaos, leaving you and Rogue vulnerable. The man’s strength was overwhelming, and before you could react, he hurled you against a tree. The impact was brutal, and you felt a jarring “crack” as your head struck the trunk.

You crumpled to the ground, falling into the snow. As the world around you dimmed, the last thing you saw was the silhouettes of the figures moving closer, their shapes growing more defined against the stark whiteness of the snow.

You woke with a groan, sitting up abruptly as if propelled by instinct. Your body felt as good as new, fully healed from the earlier impact. Instinctively, you scanned your surroundings, your mind racing with concern for Logan and his whereabouts.

As your eyes adjusted to the dim light, you noticed a bald man sitting in a wheelchair across the room. Despite his lack of visible movement, his voice seemed to come from all around you, resonating in your mind as much as your ears.

“There is no need to panic,” he said, his lips remaining still, not in sync with his words.

You tensed, on high alert. “How are you doing that?” you demanded, your voice edged with suspicion.

The bald man responded aloud this time, “How do we do anything? We’re mutants.”

Your frustration boiled over. “Where am I? Where is Logan?”

The man’s calm demeanor didn’t waver. “He is safe… you both are.” He began to wheel closer; his movements deliberate and smooth. “As for where you are… You are at my academy, where we help those like you. You are with… the X-Men.”

[marlshroom]

i will never ever stop thinking about the disability allegories in gravity falls. i cant ever stop thinking about disability allegories in other media and gravity falls is no different. im feeling chatty today, so lets see if i can articulate all my feelings on the matter.

the most interesting thing that stuck out to me with thisisnotawebsitedotcom.com was this snippet on fords medical paper:

we hear about this kind of attitude towards disabilities often, maybe you have heard about autism being referred to as the "next evolutionary change in humans." we can especially see this when a person has a disability, but is also very capable in other fields. there are so many cases in the medical or educational field of a child having specific needs, yet they are ignored due to them being "gifted".

in a vacuum, ford's extra finger may not be considered a disability, the sixth finger allows him more movement and dexterity, and ontop of that, he's a genius. its just an extra finger right? its not like it hurts him. but it does hurt him. he is a child living with a limb difference, he is constantly ridiculed by his peers. they call him a freak and physically harass him.

this is where we dip into the social model of disability here. i know sometimes that can cause a little bit of discourse, but i think its interesting to note here! please if you have a limb difference feel free to add your perspective or correct me where you see fit. if you don't know what the social model of disability is, its the perspective that disabled people would not be as limited in their abilities if it wasn't for the oppressive society that they lived in(think people in wheelchairs could do more things if infrastructure had disabled people in mind). ford wouldn't be experiencing abliesm in his life if limb differences were something people were educated about. then we get to bill cipher. in theory, his ability to see the 3rd dimension is almost a super power. but in the book of bill its literally stated that it is illegal for anyone to mention the possibility of "up". he is forced into abusive medical practices where he is being drugged to suppress his ability. no one in his dimension has the same perspective of him, he is completely alone, and even worse, the people who should be protecting him like his parents and doctors are abusing him(not that his parents are evil for this obviously. they don't have a choice and i assume they want what is best for him, what were they supposed to do? yet it still had this horrible impact on bill).

this social model can be applied to bill cipher. he has this ability that in a vacuum would be considered amazing, but he lives in a society(rip) that oppresses this. they have to, because bill trying to let his dimension see the stars killed every last person. which makes me think that whoever was in power here probably knew this would happen. its unsure if bill cipher knew the true extent of his damage would be, but i am of the belief that he didn't know how bad it would really be.

i just find all of this very interesting. i really love when a story tackles a topic such as disability. its so obvious this is what alex hirsch is going for and its such a unique take that i don't see often in media, as a disabled person myself. feel free to lmk your thoughts :)

[ohtobeleah]

Day Twenty Two [Do Not Look Away]

Summary: After the events of Bruises, Bradley comes face to face with his new reality. You’re experiencing a physical manifestation of PTSD and Jake’s still in a coma.

Warnings: Jake Seresin x F!reader. Mentions of death. Mentions of Sexual assault/rape. Mentions of torture/violence. Bad medical portrayals. PTSD induced psychosis

Word Count: 2.7k

Whumptober Prompt Day Twenty-Two: Forced (to kneel/watch/hurt somebody else), whipped, “Do not look away.”

Author Note: Please make sure you read the warnings provided. Disclaimer: I do not condone nor endorse the actions that are written about during the month of October. These works of fiction are just that, fiction and should be treated as such. Thank you to @ailesswhumptober for this year's prompt list.

Whumptober Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Bruises Masterlist

In a recent experiment, scientists observed that single human cells in a petri dish will seek each other out…and adhere to each other to form new connections. When cells team up, they become stronger. They thrive and evolve and eventually become something that their single selves ever could have been alone. 

“I don’t want to pry,” Bradley’s voice broke through the deafening silence that lingered between the two of you as you sat at Jake’s beside. The only other sounds that filtered through were the humming of life-saving machines and the incessant beeping of medical equipment. “I can’t even begin to relate to what you’ve both been through,” Bradley continued as you looked over to where he was standing. Right at the foot of Jake’s hospital bed.

You spent more time at Jake’s side than you did in your own hospital room. It often got you in trouble. There was even one particular time when you were still in a wheelchair, where you’d decided to take yourself down the hall to see him. It didn’t go over very well with the orderlies. Your team of doctors and nurses alike were furious with you. But they understood the burning desire to be with the one you loved. They understood and could recognise the early stages of post-traumatic stress disorder. They could see the signs of codependency. 

They could see that you were more at ease by Jake Seresin’s side than you were by yourself. Once your primary doctor had signed off on it, you were essentially treated at Jake’s bedside permanently. Screw hospital policies and politics. 

Rooster’s hands gripped the railing at the end of the bed with such a force you thought his grip alone might crumple the metal. But it never wavered. The metal held strong under the pressure Bradley was putting it under. Much like Jake who never gave up on you. 

“But–” Bradley paused one final time before the question left his mouth forever. Once he asked he couldn’t take back such a charged question. “Was there ever a moment where you wished–” He didn’t have to finish his sentence for you to know what he was asking. 

“Every day,” You interrupted as you sat perched in the world’s most unsupportive, uncomfortable hospital chair known to man. “I prayed for death more than I prayed to be rescued, Rooster.” You knew Bradley was prepared to hear you say that, he wouldn’t have bothered to ask if he didn’t already believe to some extent that you would have prayed for the sweet release of death. “But Jake kept me going even when I wanted to die.”

“I–” Even though Bradley knew that answer was coming, it didn’t make it any easier to hear. “I’m so sorry, Y/n,” Bradley sighed as he shook his head in disbelief. “It should have been me.” 

“I wouldn’t wish any of this on my worst enemy, Bradshaw,” You replied as you shivered in the cool of Jake’s bleak hospital room. Rooster saw and quickly made his way over to where spare blankets and pillows were thrown haphazardly. They sat crumpled in a pile on a forgotten chair never used by the neverending list of visitors that cycled through. 

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.” You tried to tell Bradley as he collected a spare blanket. “Rooster–” 

“You know, I remember not long before the mission rolled around,” Rooster explained as he placed the blanket over you. Covering your legs enough to maintain some warmth. “Jake got obliterated one night at the Hard Deck, so much so that Penny actually got a few of us to just drag him out to the front deck by his ankles.” 

You couldn’t help but to chuckle. You were mourning the loss of the version of Jake Seresin you hardly got to know before the mission. But you would have liked to bear witness to some more of his antics. However, you had tried your best to stay clear when you didn’t need to be in his direct vicinity. 

“Sounds like something he’d do.” You smiled softly all the while you looked over your shoulder to where Jake lay still heavily sedated and comatosed. “I miss him so much.” 

“I drove him home that night,” Bradley continued on as he made sure you were warmer than you had been moments before. “He was rambling about some woman, you know, in between when he had his head out the window of the Bronco pealing the paint off with his bile.” 

Again you couldn’t help but to laugh, this time with more intention. Bradley could see it in your eyes though, you wished Jake was awake to laugh at his own stupidity with you. 

“He told me about this woman, how he couldn’t stand her,” Rooster explained as a frown plastered itself across your face. “He couldn’t stand anything about her really, from her smile to the way she laughed without fear of ridicule to the way she just knew how to call him on bullshit before anyone else could,” 

“Why are you telling me this?” You asked with a tone laced with something you didn’t recognise. Rooster knew exactly what it was though. It was jealousy. It was the all-consuming green goblin called jealousy. Who was this other woman Jake was talking about in his drunken rambling and why was she on his mind? 

“He even hated the way she ate her food, with purpose and intention.” Bradley laughed to himself as he looked down at where Jake was lying unresponsive in his hospital bed. “Mother fucker had hate confused with love though.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“He loves everything about you Hollywood,” Bradley sighed as he tried to keep the tears in his eyes from welling too much. It wasn’t his time to cry. No. For you, he had to be strong. “I can remember giving him so much shit for it, he was droning on about how he hated the way you always beat him at his own game.” You could feel the heat in your cheeks rising as Rooster crouched down before you. His hands were gentle atop your blanket-covered knees. “Han–Jake, loved you before he even knew he loved you.” 

“What if he doesn’t wake up, Roo?” tears rolled down your face through a pained smile. It was nice to know Jake truly did love you before he saw hell’s most horrible torture performed against you. But it made the fact he wasn’t awake so much harder to handle. “What if he–”

“He will,” Bradley replied as he reached up to wipe the stray tears streaming down your cheeks. “He wouldn’t leave you behind, not after everything you’ve been through, alright?” Rooster wanted confirmation from you. He wanted you to nod. He wanted to see that you were listening to what he was actually saying. “He loves you too much to leave you now, he wouldn’t do that to you, not after fighting every day to keep you two alive.” 

“I wanna be able to tell him that I love him too,” You sobbed in your chair all the while Bradley did his best to comfort you. He looked up at your own monitor. The one that told all the doctors and nurses what your heart was doing. What your stats were. You were still hooked up to IV fluids. “I just wanna hear his voice again.” 

Bradley let the silence linger for a moment as he stood. He couldn’t deny how tired you looked. How weak your movement pattern was. He saw the exhaustion written in between the lines on your face. You needed to rest. You needed to sleep. But getting you to agree to head back to bed even just for an hour would be a battle Rooster wasn’t sure he’d win. 

But you were the woman Jake Seresin loved. A title Bradley would never have but would envy from a viewpoint just shy of the front row. He would forever force himself to watch the man he loved love another human with all the fire and grace he had to offer. Bradley swore that he’d never look away from the gift he’d been given. The gift of witnessing his best friend fall in love. Get married. Have children perhaps. He wanted to be right there in the thick of it. 

So he needed to be your person, even just for a little while. For Jake. For Hangman. For the sandy blonde with the emerald eyes across the bar. For the aviator who knew how to get on his last nerve. For the man who’d risked his life to save his. For the best friend, he never realised he’d lost and subsequently found again. 

“I want you to know I suggest this with so much respect,” Bradley sighed. He tensed a little as if he was bracing for impact. “But I reckon Jake would want me to tell you to get some rest.” 

You listened to what Bradley was saying. His words were something comforting amidst all the pain and suffering you’d endured. He was, if anything, a good friend. You knew that Jake would never truly regret his decision to put his life on the line to save his wingman. But it would be a decision that haunted him every night. Every morning. Every second that passed him by where he had to live in a world where he’d seen you experience the worst of what humanity had to offer. 

And you understood why he was telling you to get some rest. But you couldn’t sleep when your mind would get stuck on a loop. Replaying all the hurt. The pain. The suffering. All in HD while your body tried to recover. 

The mind is dark, wonderful and weird. But the last thing you wanted was your subconscious at the helm. 

“No.” It was a complete sentence. No follow up required. But Rooster thought otherwise. 

“Uh, I really think you should just get maybe like, a solid half an hour at the minimum?” Bradley replied as he stood with his hands resting slightly cunty on his hips. “Jake would–” Before Rooster got the chance to finish, you deadpanned him. His blood ran cold when you glared his way. A look he never wanted to be on the receiving end of ever again. 

“They made Jake watch a lot of things happen to me,” Bradley had no idea where you were going with this. But he chose to listen regardless. “They made him watch them rape me, over and over again.” You paused just to listen to Jake’s heart rate monitor. The rhythmic beeping soothed your troubled heart in a way you felt ungrateful to experience. Sure Jake was in the hospital after being held as a prisoner of war…but at least he was alive. 

“They forced him to watch every time, and said it was always his fault.” Bradley’s heart sank at the thought of having to go through that, let alone watch it unfold. The levels of physical and psychological torture you were describing were almost unbearable to listen to. But for you, he would. “But he never gave them what they wanted. Jake never gave up on me even when he could have.” 

“Y/n–” Again Bradley tried to speak. But you kept talking over him. Just trying to get your point across. 

“They forced him to hurt me, they used him against me in ways I wish I could describe to you right now,” You began to shake your head as your tears ricocheted down your heated cheeks. “‘Don’t look away. Don’t look away Seresin’–on goddamn repeat, while I was cut and used and beaten until I could barely breathe and without fail after everything was said and done he was still there.” Bradley could very much see you unraveling right before him. He didn’t recognise the look in your eye. He chose to take a few cautious steps back towards the door, giving you some space and himself some distance. 

“He was there for me to crawl home to even when I couldn’t see,” Your voice softened as you looked over at Jake. Bradley saw it, the moment your eyes caught the rise and fall of Jakes chest. God, it broke his heart. All of this did. 

“So no–” You hissed. “I will not be leaving his side and I will not sleep until I get to tell him that I love him and not until I get to see him wake up,” You explained for the last time. You were sick and tired of people telling you to rest. To sleep. To take care of yourself. They didn’t know what you had been through. They didn’t understand what you were going through. They didn’t understand what it was like to witness torture, to experience hell day in and day out. “Do you understand?”   

Bradley didn’t respond right away. He simply looked at you with a look you didn’t want to be on the receiving end of. One of sympathy. One of pity. So you snapped. “I said DO YOU UNDERSTAND!?” Your voice echoed down the hall as Rooster backed away even more. He placed his hands where you could see him as if he wanted you to know he wasn’t there to hurt you. 

“Hollywood, take it easy.” Rooster cooed. “It’s me, Rooster.” 

“Get me out of here!” You screamed all the while clawing at the wires and tubes attached to various parts of you. Your arms, chest, stomach. “Let me go!” 

“NURSE!” Bradley called down the hall towards the nurse’s station. He turned his back for five seconds only to turn around to witness you trying to pull the vent from Jake’s throat. The one helping him to breathe. The life-saving piece of equipment you were now messing with. “Fuck! Y/n!” 

“I’ve got you,” You cried as you tried to save Jake. Not understanding you were in the middle of a panic attack mixed with exhaustion. “I’ll save you, I’m here.” 

“Hollywood!” Rooster wrapped his arms around your torso from behind. “Stop it, you’re in the hospital!” 

“Let go of me!” You cried out as a handful of nurses approached Jake’s room. They saw the look of utter shock plastered across Bradley’s face. “LET ME GO!” You shouted again as you violently kicked and thrashed against Rooster as your feet left the ground. 

“I don’t know what I said to set her off like this?” Explaining himself to the nurses, Bradley held you tight as you fought against him. 

“JAKE!!!” You cried out in unimaginable terror. 

“She’s having an attack again,” One of the nurses explained as she jabbed you with a sedative. “Anything will trigger her right now.” 

Bradley listened to your screams get weaker as your body grew heavier in his embrace. He knew you were gone the second your head lulled to the side. 

“She’s in a bad way, they both are.” Rooster groaned in frustration. Not at you or Jake, but at the situation as a whole. “Someone needs to be held responsible for all of this.” 

“I’m just the night nurse, Lieutenant Bradshaw,” One of the nurses replied much to Roosters’ shock. He was venting more so than looking for a response. “But if I were gonna start somewhere, I’d start with having a conversation with her father.” 

Rooster took that note onboard as he carried you back down the hall towards where your empty hospital bed was. A room just as bleak as Jake’s. 

“I got you alright?” Bradley sighed as he laid you down, taking notice of how at peace you looked. So content. So…Sedated. “I’ve got you and I’ve got Jake.” As the nurses followed him in to fix up your machines and copious wires, Rooster took a moment to sit in his torture. Reminding himself of the promise he’d made. “Always.” 

We are an extension of our cells. Just like them, we are programmed to find others…to reach out to one another and find nourishment and love. Much like our cells, we’re not meant to be alone. So once we find each other…

We try our best to hold onto what we’ve got. Even after horrific petri dish experiments.

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

[chronicbitchsyndrome]

it's really frustrating to see people buying into arbitrary and incorrect divisions between "mental" and "physical" disabilities to describe the very real ableist aggression and disparity in social privilege that is better described by the ability to conform to abled hegemony

like... yes, there is a very real phenomenon of the adhd tiktokker with perfect makeup reacting with disgust towards the wheelchair user in their space

this is because that adhd tiktokker is able to fit into normative abled hegemony. their symptoms do not, currently, present as a significant barrier to engaging in abled hegemony to the extent that they exist entirely outside of it and therefore have to question its very roots. they are still able to be seen as productive, attractive, and therefore socially valuable under abled hegemony, and so they find value and utility in that hegemony and are able to use it to punch down on other disabled people who cannot.

this is still true even if their adhd manifests as what many refer to as a "physical disability" (for example, it's not uncommon for adhd to manifest with invisible breathing and heart problems, which i'm not going to get into the methodology behind here because it'd be derailing). i've encountered scores of people with what would generally be classed as "physical disabilities" who exist in this space--asthma, joint hypermobility disorders, chronic pain, limb replacements, hearing disorders--i have seen people whose "physical" disorders do not disqualify them entirely from acceptance into abled hegemony, time and time again, enact violence on people who are incapable of conforming to abled hegemony. i see this in the "spoonie" and "zebra" communities, i see it in "chronic illness" spaces that accept capitalist class interests and breed liberalism.

equally, i've encountered scores of people labeled as solely "mentally ill" or "mentally disabled" who experience the kind of disenfranchisement that is associated with "physical disability" separatism right now--people with ID and autism who are nonverbal/use AAC or who experience severe mobility issues causing them to use mobility aids for purely "mental" reasons, for example. people who tic visibly/audibly in ways that subject them to social violence. schizophrenics who are subject to physical violence simply because of their body language, even if they don't interact with anyone at all. people who uncontrollably faint at certain stimuli due to panic disorders and face public access barriers as a result.

there's a pattern being picked up on, in that what we classify as "physical" symptoms tend to actually be visible symptoms, and what we classify as "mental" symptoms tend to be invisible symptoms. but that is a false and arbitrary dividing line; there isn't a hard and fast line between the brain and the body. as with the sex binary, classifying something into two dialectic categories extremely rarely works as anything other than a thought exercise.

broadly speaking, the more publicly visible your disabled traits are, the less you're able to fit into normative abled hegemony; broadly speaking, the disabled people who enact oppression on other disabled people via utilizing abled hegemonic ideals tend to have more invisible disabled traits. but that doesn't sort into a clean physical/mental divide, because that method of sorting bodymind traits is outdated and unscientific.

[thedevilrisen]

Hospital - 5

TW: HOSPITALS, nothing bad, just a description of someone in a hospital.

Nova Crosby -

1:16am

Theorising while sitting in an intensive care waiting room at quarter past one in the morning is never a good idea. Particularly after being given fodder such as an unplanned emergency surgery, both men had their own ideas on what could have happened. Knowing the extent of Nova's condition before she was whisked away at the emergency room Luke was trying to use Sid's aged wisdom to conclude what happened. But both of them had absolutely nothing.

Standing, leaning against the granite kitchenette counter which was more so holding the exhausted form of Sidney up while he skulled the dregs of his third coffee. Religiously Sid only had one coffee a day on decaf, but in such a drastic situation where he needed to be as awake as possible if the promised Nurse ever actually came. Each time a pair of lone footsteps clacked down the hall Sid or Luke, whoever was closest to the door looked out to check if it was a Nurse.

Two times it was the food delivery, bringing in product for the next day, one it was the cleaner and three times orderlies who were moving wheelchairs back to the spots they needed to go to. Every time Sid became more agitated, the patient Canadian niceness was wearing thin, exceptionally fast. Each time it wasn't a nurse with answers and every minute that ticked by that the phone didn't ring with answers his frustration exponentially increased.

"I think I'm going fucking insane Luke." Sid mumbled, pouring hot water into another cup loaded with instant coffee. His incessant grumbling and almost permanently creased brow was giving away the fact that he hadn't had an emotional outlet since he left the game almost six hours prior. He had held Luke through his initial crash when he first arrived and had gave him a pat on the back and or shoulder rub depending on where he was when Luke needed a little extra comforting.

Luke was now almost apathetic, but Sid. Sidney was dangerously toeing the line of complete and utter meltdown. He prided himself on his sturdy and tentative nature. He was kind, never raised his voice, except when Nova goes joy riding with a bunch of college boys to New Jersey for the weekend- ... but thats a different story. Sidney solidly believed that any rebellious situation Nova had been in would be better than this right now. He could control it, make sure she was safe and okay. See with his own two eyes, not matter how red they were hazed with his rage that she was okay.

"I know what you're talking about Sid. I feel like I could drop asleep any minute but it's Murphy's law. I do that and suddenly she's awake and we can see her." Luke half slurred, half grumbled.

"This is fucking ridiculous, where did they say the ICU room is?" Sid spoke firmly, leaving no room for argument, although Luke tried.

"Sid, I'm as upset as you. It's only been a little while since the call, they are probably getting her sorted." The optimism coming from Luke slathered in monotonous tonality fell about as flat as a crepe to floor.

"No, that's my fucking daughter!" Sid launched back, the string holding him up seemed to fray ever so thinner. "Give me th-"

A gentle knocking sounded from the door, as a young Nurse, clad in burgundy scrubs poked her head in, pushing the door open, "Are you with Nova Crosby?"

"About fucking time!" Sidney crows, the clench of his fist in the fabric of his suit pant pocket is enough to give away the fact that he is fuming.

"I'm sorry Sir, we've been as quick as we could, you can come see her now if you want." The Nurse was desperately trying to diffuse Sid's anger, not directed at her but rather the situation.

"We'd love that." He spoke through gritted teeth. Checking Luke was following him as they began down the hall where they met a coded door that the nurse typed in and were led into a a white room with two sinks.

"If you could please wash your hands before coming in, it assists us in making sure the patients aren't compromised." before she had even finished both boys had started scrubbing, very thoroughly for their waning patience. When they finished the nurse led them through the ICU department towards the back where surrounded by a blue medical curtain was a bed. In that bed Nova laid, a fraction of consciousness, behind her bed was a plethora of machines which beeped and rang in their timely fashion. Sidney couldn't figure out when he went from fine to hyperventilating as he stared at his daughter, so young and fragile swaddled in white hospital blankets, akin to the ones she was handed to him for the first time he held her.

The ugly tubes coming out of her arms, cannulas in her elbow and top of her hand, a feeding tube coming out of her nose, a heart monitor connected directly to her chest. It was all too much, he didn't know he was crying and how obvious it had become that his mental capacity for the situation was declining greatly.

"Sir." A middle aged man in a white coat coxed him towards a door, leading him away from Nova. Pushing him outside as he looked a Luke who had sat down beside her, the moment romantic but catastrophic.

"That's my girl!" Sid roared in anguish, "Thats- THATS MY BABY."

"Sir, you need to calm down."

"NO DON'T TELL ME ANYTHING. Thats my baby girl! I have raised her for nineteen years, I of all people deserved to know what happened to her as soon as I arrived! Do you know how much she means to me, seeing her like is equivalent to ripping my heart out and piercing it with a stake!" Sid was hysterically now, loud voice echoing throughout the deserted hallway. "I need to know! I need you to do your fucking job and not be incompetent! Please."

The doctor led Sid to a chair and sat him down. "I'm a father too, I understand your anguish." he took a deep breath, "I will tell you everything but I must warn you, it will hurt and be a shock to the system. My team and I are dedicated to helping your daughter though, I want you to trust we will do everything in our power to help."

Sid took a deep breath, this was going to be a long conversation.

[monty-glasses-roxy]

Actually, if I do go around and check some things, would anyone be interested in what I find? I can share it if anyone wants me to

You ever think about how hugely inaccessible the Pizzaplex is? Or is it just me?

I'm actually tempted to go through a check a bunch of things to get the full picture here too. I'm not accessibility expert, but I'm aware enough to know when something is very obviously inaccessible like the Plex

[ashoss]

I'm thinking about the different angsty mess that comes from the bats as demigods.

Dick who becomes a hero and does have powers, but most people don't assume so at first and he feels like a fraud because he does have powers but people don't know that and could he actually do the things he does without the boast from being a demigod. [Imposter syndrome]. There's also the angsty idea that he tried to hide the demigod stuff at first because well Bruce wasn't the most communicative. Could also have a bit of angst in the idea that Hermes kids aren't the most rare demigod. Him also has issues in feeling like any one of his demigod siblings could replace him.

Babs being clearsighted and without blessing yet. She who will constantly have to work harder than all of them. Who doesn't have any sort of leg up in the Devine world. She who didn't have to keep fighting even after knowing she could see. She wasn't part of their world but chose to be. The way that she is punished for it. She is the only one of them permanently injured. Bond to a wheelchair. She who continues to fight in her own ways, battling her issues and everyone else. She who becomes blessed by Apollo later on. Earns the respect of the mythological world, but will always be the one who could have walked away.

Cass as a legacy of Hades who feels when people die. Knowing exactly the moment she killed someone. When by her hand she sent someone to the underworld. She can sense death. That and a very slight affinity towards the shadows is the extent of those powers. It makes her death wish and temporary death all the more interesting because it can play into both the Hades and the Nemesis thing. Nemesis is the goddess associated with balance, retribution, and revenge. Cass, who feels the deep seeded, needs to balance out the death she caused by experiencing death. She thinks about being mediocre for a lifetime or perfect for a year.' Knowing the trade she is making for that. That in trade of being Mediocre, she will live, but in being perfect, she will die. She dies. Even if just briefly. It also connects her and her mother Shiva closer together. Shiva being of Hades legacy can also feel death and wants to be killed only by the best. She seeks out death but will only die to one she considers worthy. Cass, being a daughter of Nemesis, wouldn't do this anyway, even if it was against her morals because Shiva has an excess of hubris. Cass is the perfect person to kill her, her own daughter, but in retribution, she will not be the one to kill her.

Jason also being a son of Nemesis and the angst that brings. He who sees it as balance to kill the one who killed him. Who sees it as the ultimate revenge to go against Bruce in the way he does, knowing that it will hurt, but him also failing in the end because he demands to much, is asking for something in which he cannot have and ergo by his own nature, by his own Devine mother he will not have it. [Ethan Nakamura traded an eye for a weapon that could change the balance of the war, It's not to far out there to assume Jason in a fit of desperation in a deep seeded need to seek revenge to find some sort of balance would trade something for a leg up.] Him being the legacy of a god who heals. Something he didn't know about. The connection he now shares with the mother he ran after to in Ethiopia. That woman was a disgraced doctor, and now he finds out he is the legacy of a healer. He who instinctively heals Bruce. Doesn't realize he is doing it. That also plays into the balance. For as much as he hurts Bruce, he is also healing him.

Tim being the first Roman. That makes him an outsider in the beginning. He who has to work a bit harder in the beginning for this. Who in the beginning doesn't know how to apply hid skills, let alone what skills he does have. He who loves deeply and cares deeply. Who brings people together even through grief. He who created the Batfamily. He who becomes a cornerstone to the hero world, having a piece of himself in every corner. Child of Venus who brings honor back to her name. Child who didn't have to fight, who didn't have to pick up a weapon. Who's ability could have been used equally as well elsewhere but picked one up anyway and said I will be what is needed. He with his words and actions that can change the world. Venus will never be the first one people think for. They will think Athena, because of his brain, not remembering that his mom was a goddess of war, who has started wars. They will think Ares for his mastery over weapons for the viciousness he can show in the field. Not knowing that his mother may be a goddess of love, but love can be just as cruel as it is kind. The will say Hephestus for the tools he wields, not knowing that words and actions are just as mighty as any blade can be. One called him a child of Victoria. Not recognizing that his mother too is a goddess of victory.

Stephanie, the second Roman. The daughter of Cardea. Of hinges. A goddess so minor that monsters even ignore her. Is she even a real demigod? She asks herself at night alone as she is forgotten again. She trains so hard, but she's not Cass who senses death or fights for something much larger than they are. She's not Tim, whose mother is the mother of Rome. She is not Dick who has survived as an Olympian child for decades now. She's not Babs, who was so outstanding of a mortal that she received blessing. She can't even be a proper Roman. She who wards off evil though, whose Powers work amazingly for vigilante work. She can break open doors with the slight manipulation of the hinge, who can open filing cabinets because not everything can be found online. She who instinctively has skills others have to practice and learn. She who will always feel like an outsider.

Damian, who has a lot of legacy to live up to. He's not a halfblood, and he's less of a demigod than everyone else. He values his blood connection to his father so much because it's one of the few things he has over everyone else. He who is the only one who has a connection to the magicians and other West Asian religions and what that entails. He knows of the Greeks and Romans..he knows of the Irish and the Norse. He stands outside and inside it all. He brings more or less thrown into a whole new world when he ends up in Gotham. It tests only his skills but his ability to adapt because things are different here. More dangerous and less dangerous.

--

Dick resenting Jason a bit because he thinks Bruce taking in a child of Nemesis was him taking in someone better suited for the sort of job Vruce wants to do. Jason feeling inadequate because Dick was the child of an Olympian whose father had domains that helped physically with fighting..

Jason is angry at Bruce because the kid that took his spot is the child of an Olympian. He went and found a Roman kid. The Roman's were more disappointed, they were better at following orders, they would make better soldiers. Tim who is angered slightly because Jason took a part of Bruce with him when he died, and no matter what he can do, nothing will bring in back. Jason got the ultimate revenge in that.

Jason and Cass will never see eye to eye. They are hslfdiblings. Jason has a halfsibling, Cass has a halfsibling, but they won't ever get along. Not in the way that matters. They represent the best and worst of the other. Cass won't kill again, Jason will kill. Jason doesn't intentionally heal, Cass yearns to. They see balance as something different. One was dead without wanting to be. One yearned for death but ended up living.

Stephanie and Tim find companionship in being the only Romans among the Greeks. They, however, represent something the other could never be. Stephanie sees Tim as a model Roman. Even when angry at his father, at Bruce, at the position he's in, he still refers to that person in the father role. He still plays into the roles of society. Tim sees Steph rebel against that. He sees her best up her father, rebel against Bruce, against authority. She resents him, and he fears what could happen to her. He is the son of the mother, and she is someone minor. She has a freedom he never will have. He has a position she will never have.

Just all of them trying to measure up to the others around them always find something missing.

[Also, random fun fact Duke already has an immortal father in canon. It's true. Look it up.]

Annon AK

OOH MY GOD. YOU GET IT.

i genuinely dont think i can add to this. you have absolutely nailed everything about each of their dynamics. i dont think this will leave my head anytime soon

[romanceyourdemons]

i love how accommodating the wuxia genre is of disabilities, to an equal or greater extent than the swashbuckler genre. only have one arm? dude there are so many one-armed swordsmen who are hugely respected masters, and some styles of martial arts you can only practice if you’ve just got the one arm. blind? same story. if you can’t use your legs then you’ll need to adjust your style, but if you can get a wheelchair or an Elaborate Device or some manner of ranged weapon or a jianghu friend who’s really good at leg-based styles and lets you sit on their shoulders as you two fight for a double threat, then you’ll be even more dangerous than before. chronic fatigue? plenty of methods of martial arts studies, not to mention a lot of poisons you can easily end up infected with in the jianghu, can cause chronic fatigue. i’m sure there’s a large community of masters who can advise how to balance your martial studies with it. and if you’re completely incapable of learning martial arts? believe it or not, there is absolutely a place in the martial arts world for you. and, yes, a lot of these are stories of people “overcoming” their disabilities, but from what i’ve seen the stories almost always acknowledge and incorporate the actual disabling nature of these disabilities. and they also show that anyone can engage in a 15-year vendetta between elegant swordsmen among the rivers and lakes, and i think that’s kind of lovely