My friend and I came up with an AU in which Bruce became blind after an attempted murder on him (by Holiday) on a new day of celebration that was introduced to Gotham, Batman Day. Holiday had discovered his secret identity and planned to slay him. They were thwarted by former DA Harvey Dent, having their gun flung from their grasp. A knife was not Holidayās weapon of choice but the next best thing. Holiday was defeated by both Wayne and Dent andTwo-Face in some good old close combat, but not before Bruce suffered severe slashes to the face; rendering him sightless.
Bio: Captain Shamus McShore, Captain of The Revenge and last surviving Firbolg from his home planet. Captain McShore seeks vengeance on the ones who destroyed his home and tore him apart only to put him back together with scrap metal.
Species: Warforged (Robot) / except their head, a head of a donkey.
Class: Bard/Sorcerer
Bio: The Machine (or Machi as dubbed by her Dragonborn friend) was built in StarGunner labs. Designed to be a weapon of mass destruction and used to conquer planets all over the Astral Sea.
For five years they were a part of a hive mind, a machine amongst many others, a whole army of AI powered by one mind. Their creator, a man named The Controller was driven by a lust to conquer and destroy entire planets.
One day Machi began to receive the donkeyās memories. They began to understand the beauty in all living things and were horrified by what they had done. They broke free from the hive mind and in hopes of changing the programming of the other mindless killing machines, compiles and stores evidence; proof of the beauty of all living things. Proof that they deserve to be spared.
(Disclaimer: Red/Duck undercut. No vore. No smut. Duck doesnāt get eaten. But there are some disturbing thoughts and imagery surrounding meat)
Description: Red wants to treat Duck to a meal at a fancy restaurant. Itās their first date, but Red has overlooked one significant detailā¦duck is on the menu! An AU where they live in a society consisting mostly of red string people.
The pair sit across from each other. Their table among many.Ā Ā The general noise of polite conversation and tender expressions surround them. A fine establishment for an equally fine date. Red had picked this restaurant hoping to impress the bird. But as he looks about he realises heād overlooked one significant detail. A bead of sweat dribbles down his brow, everywhere he looks he can see his mistake. In the eyes of other guests, he sees his fatale flaw. Hushed voices mimic the exact words that burn into his brain. āIs that a duck? Is he dating a duck? But isnāt duck on the me-ā
āOi! I was talking to you.ā
āHuh?ā
A groan. āI canāt believe you for, the third and final time, hand me the menu! Iām starving.ā
Usually lazy and somber, a frantic Red whips the menu far from Duckās reach. A nervous chuckle. āWhy not just order a salad or something?ā
A scoff. Feathers ruffle and brows narrow. āWhat are you trying to say?!ā
āNo,no thatās not what I meant- I- what about the lasagna then.ā Heād seen Duck eat lasagna before. He likes lasagna, there is no need for him to see the Chefās recommendation.
Duck cocks his head to one side, like some perplexed puppy. Finally, he clocks that something is up. Red is clearly disturbedā¦and itās not just the usual butterflies one gets on a first date.Ā Ā He decides to surrender the menuā¦this once. āWell, I do like lasagna.ā The bird muses.
Yet, Duck seems completely unfazedā¦ or perhaps he is just completely oblivious. The bird seems so determined to gossip about a client of his that he just seems to miss it all. That annoyingly yet somehow endearing squawking laughter of his, amplifying the noise in the restaurant. Red stares at the avian, all animated, eyes closed in an expression of sheer delight. Laughing away at his own joke. And Red questionās everything; how could anyone look at such a beautiful creature and think āfoodā. It just doesnāt seem to make any sense. Duck is annoying and, honestly, kind of an asshole but somehow cute and pleasant to be aroundā¦how could anyone-
āRed?! Red!āĀ
A feathered hand waves at him, bringing him back into the moment. āWhat?ā Duck had apparently hopped onto the table in an effort to shake Red from his thoughts.Ā
His date sighs, folds his arms and pouts. āYou havenāt been listening to me! You havenāt even tried to listen to me.ā Red flinches a little as Duck throws his hands up in frustration. āI might as well just speak to a brick wall.ā He complains.
The date is a total disasterā¦ perhaps Red should have suggested a trip to the cinema instead. He hangs his head, staring down at his fumbling hands.Ā
āWhat is going on with you? You havenāt even touched your hot pot!ā A layer of concern begins to coat his tone. His hands move to hold Redās. The mop monster locks eyes with Duck.
Ā āI just-ā His eyes look away. The churning feeling in his stomach only worsening. The sounds of cutlery seem deafening, it pierces his ears. His thoughts spiralling and a chill runs down his spine. He wants to throw up but focuses hard on the feeling of Duckās hands in his. They ground himā¦justĀ Ā enough for him to find the words. āThis place is- can we go?ā
Duck squeezes his hands a little.
āWe could go and get ice cream or something?ā Perhaps he can convince himself to eat something sweetā¦ or at least make amends for a terrible date through heaps of sugary goodness.
Finally he has the courage to look Duck in the eyes. A sympathetic gaze stares back at him. Duck isnāt sure whatās gotten Red so unnerved but he knows it only began when they entered this place. He is given a nod.Ā
āAlright.ā The bird climbs down from the table and gathers up his coat. No questions asked.
ā-
The night air is refreshing, calming even, a welcome contrast from the unbearable tension inside the restaurant. Duck wordlessly pads beside the bigger creature. Carefully linking their arms.
As they near the ice cream parlour Red holts. He wants to be sure that Duck understands something. āWait.ā Crouching to the mallardās level he stares straight into the otherās eyes. āI just want you to know, I donāt eat duck. I donāt even like it. Itās disgusting and-ā
Squawking laughter has him flinch once again. Is he laughing? Why is he-
āI know that! Obviously!ā Duck chortles, hands moving to his hips in that āI know everythingā manner that this annoying little shit shows on the daily. āAnd quite honestly I wouldnāt care if you did! I just demolished an entire beef lasagna.ā
āYeah but itās not like we have any friends who are cows or anything-ā Duck meat just seems so personal. What with him literally being in love with a duck.
āOh Red you are always so sensitive!ā He smirks, giving the red fellow a patronising pat on the arm.
Offended. Red pulls his arm away from the short bastard. āAlright. Donāt make fun of meā¦ itās justā¦ I donāt knowā¦ I kind of like you and the thought of someone eating you is- itās just personal okay.ā ā¦ āyou just donāt understand.ā
Something shifts in the bird and his expression softens. His hand grazes the tip of his stomach scar and there is a flash of something. Something almost painful.Ā Ā Itās fleeting though and quickly replaced with a toothy smile. āWell, no. Butā¦ perhaps a little hand hold and some ice cream might help?ā
āYeah. Yeah. I think it might.ā His gigantic mit moves to hold a small feathery hand.Ā
And as they move inside the parlour. āI like you too. Just for the recordā¦ youāre welcome.ā A shit eating grin, earns a playful nudge and a fit of giggles as the two disappear through the door.
Doing a reading from Blind Faith by Pinesinthewoods (note I edited a bit here and there, chopped a few lines and added a new one. Please check out the original writing, it's impeccable, Blind Faith
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