Adrian Monk being the one to investigate Rhodes Hill instead of Leon. Victor looms over him during interrogation and smiles.
"I heard you're quite afraid of snakes..." he deliberately flicks his tongue next to Monk's face and savors the spike in fear. He rests his ringed, scaled fingers on Adrian's shoulder and hums as he presents the scalpel.
"Don't worry, I will be nothing short of meticulousss as I take you apart."
Monk turns and sees the twisted smile of the sadistic monster. He stares at Gideon's teeth for a moment.
"Not even."
"Hmm?" Victor tilts his head inhaling the intoxicating scent of unease.
"Your teeth. They're not even. And this tarp that you have is way, way, WAY off center." Monk looks about the room. "And good god when was the last time someone cleaned up here? There's layers of dust!"
Victor stares back and the amusement has started to fade.
"Shall I escort you to the lower levels? Introduce you to my experiments? Perhaps get you acquainted with the meat grinder..." his voice is a growl now.
"Is there bleach in the lower levels? Wipes?"
Victor feels a headache coming on and starts to wish the detective had been DSO.
What if I just pick up Tim Drake and shove him over towards Jurassic World because he looked at the idea of Dinosaurs being made and went
well that's going to go horribly wrong better get a closer look at it and the tech used to make it because I bet some funky stuff is happening-
cause he's not STUPID. So he poses as interested in sponsoring the park with WE, but he makes it so the park executives need to "whoo" him over to actually putting the money in. And they decide to show it off and he grabs that kind of chance with both hands- maybe Jay poses as security so Tim has back up???- Only he's (they're?) ON the island the day it all goes to hell in business dress Tim cannot stress how much he hates that.
Can't stop thinking about Athe Batfam having KHR flames and what it'd be like.
Bruce is NOT a Sky. Though he's charismatic and driven, it just doesn't...fit right. Instead, I think he'd be a Cloud. Aloof, but dedicated to his sense of Justice.
Dick IS a Sky, though Bruce is not his Guardian. Those positions go to the Titans.
Jason is a Storm. Maybe, idk it fits the best, especially after he comes back, though you could argue that the Lazarus pit infected him and warped his flame type.
Tim is either a Mist, or another Sky. Tim is far too good at lying for him to not be a Mist, but his similar charisma to Dick and Young Justice team could be evidence of another Sky.
Damian is either a Lightning, or another Cloud like his Father.
Cass is a Rain? She's incredibly soothing and perceptive.
Stephanie is another Storm
Duke is a Sun.
I do NOT know enough about the Batfam to be confident in my answers, but from what I know from canon and fanon, these seem accurate. Having Bruce and the others react to the KHR mafia would be pretty funny tho.
(rolls in 300 yrs later with a steaming tea) Late but this is fun
SO- I love the idea of a Flame Active DC verse, and the HORROR of imagining GOTHAM with Flames? That City would be CRAWLING with actives. The will to survive when you have nothing left but that will?? In GOTHAM??
Adding in the idea of Gotham Underworld with Flames and Flame Actives????? Whooooooooooooooo. Gotham would be a world in and of itself, other Flame actives don't come NEAR it. Gothamites Flames would be also weird what with the Curses and everything else. It's an interesting concept as a collective.
SO. Personal collective of Flames to Bats and Birds:
Bruce is 100% a Cloud- A Classic though a lot of people would call him Inverted with his personality. He's not he just TRAINED to control that temper, and his territory of choice would be Gotham, and eventually her vigilante collective. His Cloud nature reflects in enforcing his Rules and standards of how they are to operate and training his birds to survive it, but also his drive to bring the crime in Gotham to heel.
Ironically when I think of Dick, while I CAN argue for Sky, and it would be fitting, my brain actually assigns him to a Stormy Sun! Classic on both cases. All that rage and the way he locks in on his parents' murderer and jumps straight into plotting murder in vengeance. The single minded way he locks in- it talks to me of that obsessive natural of a classic storm. And that drive to burn his target down? Still storm. But at the same time- the classic energetic driven nature of a classic sun. The desire to nurture and take care of their people. To heal and fix the issues of their people.
Now JASON I actually picture as a Stormy Sky with just a HINT of Cloud. Classic across the board- he's more Sky than storm or cloud, and more storm than cloud, but he's picky about his elements. He doesn't actually HAVE any for a long while. He hid the soft nature of his sky, his desire to bring people together, to love and be loved, to thrive at the heart of a family behind his storm. The drive to survive, to do what's needed to keep going. It makes him prickly and makes him lash out, keep himself safe. And when he settles? When he trusts? That's when the Sky in him starts showing- all happy, bubbly magic and the desire to protect his city, his home, the people- thats all Sky.
Worse? He was starting to harmonize with Dick and B- it's part of why B went so off the rails- aside from that was a Cloud's child and all Flame types are deeply protective of children.
The Cloud and Storm in him twines with that Sky possessiveness and pushes him to ACT, to carve out his territory and keep his rules for his territory enforced and God help you if you step on his toes. The Pit hitting all that while he wasn't all there just made his instincts hit survival mode so hard and fast he was kinda feral and lashing out and made it MESSY.
Tim, my beloved, is Sparking Mist. Mostly Mist- a Classic- and an Inverted Lighting. He's all about his chosen family, doing his best to help them thrive. Hiding them, lying, arranging the playing field. He'll manipulate and redirect whatever and whoever he needs to, to stack the deck as he wants. And for the better of his family that includes his family. He will do all that he can to redirect dangers to his chosen, and will stand as shield and foundation when all else is falling apart. When the chips are down, Tim is THERE, and he's 30 steps ahead of everyone else whenever he sets his attention on things.
Damian my darling boy- he's Cloudy for sure- Ironically Inverted in my head, and surprisingly my brain actually assigns Inverted Rain to him with a hint of Mist.
He's possessive, territorial. and so very driven. He takes after his father in that. It also plays into why he clashes with Tim so hard- he considers Robin his (partly due to his mother's stories and demands) and Tim stepped all OVER those instincts. It's also why they took so long to get along- they had to soothe both of their instincts, which the other poked. Now as for torrential downpour of rain- he's a force of nature. When he settles into himself and grows fully, he's going be a FORCE. And he's going to be prickly, but also I absolutely believe he's so very good at soothing and calming other people down in his family. It just takes a while to get past the Prince and Demon's Heir attitude. But once you're HIS? He'll take care of you. He'll just blush about it.
ALFRED is a cloudy Rain in my head. Possessive and soothing, a island, a place of rest for his family- which is what he considers his territory alongside the manor itself. He's Classic Rain, Inverted Cloud. His bustles around his territory and sees it all function as well as he can, while valuing their freedom to choose what they're doing.
Cass is a Sun in my head! Inverted but only just with just a hint of inverted Cloud. She has to GO and she's deeply protective of her people. She's protective of what she sees as her home- Gotham, yes, but mostly the people. She protects Gotham because its her people's home too. It's part of what drives her to read and learn her chosen so well, to keep track of them. She's full of a kind of wanderlust, which is also part of what drives her back and forth between Hong Kong and Gotham too.
Steph...hmm. Definitely a classic Storm. All that drive and obsessive desire to pin her father, and being willing to stand up to a cloud, to the Bat for it? It fits in my head for sure. Also that impulsive desire to do things without QUITE thinking it through fitting in with that drive/obsession.
Duke fits Classic Sun in my head, and also Rain. Focused, driven, a good head on his shoulders. Relatively steady, reliable, supportive. A little wild at the edges and when he locks in he LOCKS IN.
Since you’ve clearly thought more about crossing Star Wars and The Expanse than I have, I presume you have thoughts on what blaster pistol Bobbie would favor. Mind sharing?
Woah, thanks for thinking of me!
Hmm...Bobbie Draper....
I could see the old girl going with a Z-6 rotary blaster.
It reminds me a bit of the railguns on the average Martian frigate, and similar to the firearms on her Goliath suit. Also, the fact that both ARC Troopers and Clone Commandos use them make me think Bobbie would see herself with them as well.
My brain wouldn't shut up about this idea, so I had to get it out of my head.
Under the cut is Mary Brithari getting herself into a mess and meeting Jovus. >_>
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Mary Brithari was damn near run off her feet, as she had been tracking down some rare ingredients for Mariel, as well as delivering letters that needed to arrive without being intercepted by the Venatori or Antaam. She hadn’t slept in probably three days, and as soon as she delivered this last batch of letters to Nadarevas, she was going to head home and sleep.
A gaggle of wisps wheel around her, whispering greetings and sharing tidbits of information, in their usual way, making her twirl to keep her eyes on them as she wishes them safe journeys before resuming her own journey. Something shimmers in the distant fog, catching her attention, and she heads over to investigate.
Pieces of a shattered eluvian lay scattered on the ground, with a skeleton garbed in Venatori robes off to the side, a dry rotted strap to a satchel clutched in its bony hands. Mary focuses her senses, and once she’s certain no curses or other ill-intended things were laying in wait, she investigates. There isn’t anything interesting or of value on the corpse, but the satchel at least holds a large leather bound tome that could prove to be intriguing.
Mary resumes her trek to the Lighthouse, letting her feet lead the way, as her hands and eyes inspect the book. When she stares at it with all of her focus it’s unreadable, written in a language she’d never encountered before. But when she lets her eyes drift off to the side the text shimmers and twitches and she can almost understand it.
“Songs of Skyrim” She says to herself, once she’d managed to parse the title page. It was an old tome, by the feel of the paper, and it was definitely not from anywhere the Venatori usually travelled.
Mary looks up from the book and blinks in surprise, finding herself at the Vi’Revas far sooner than she’d expected. Chalking it up to her lack of focus due to exhaustion, she just mentally shrugs and heads through the mirror with her strange find still held in her arms.
The Lighthouse is quiet, except for the gentle sounds of a quiet conversation in the library. Mary walks up the ramp, still staring at the book, trying to read more out of the corner of her eye.
“There once was a hero named Ragnar the Red… huh. Never heard of him.” She muses out loud as she comes to a stop near the couch and chairs in the library.
She squints at the book again, but the text slips past her eyes and she scrunches them shut for a moment while taking a deep breath. When she opens them again, she realizes that she’s being watched.
Emmrich is on the couch, looking at her with an expression that was more intense in its study than usual, his perfectly groomed eyebrows quirked oddly. Next to him is someone Mary has never seen before, with piercing eyes, dark hair, and a vaguely threatening aura about his serious bearded face.
“Oh, pardon my interruption, Professor. I just need to drop off some letters for Rook, and then I’ll be on my way. This book I found in the Crossroads is fascinating, I don’t suppose you’ve seen anything like it before, or recognize the language in it?” She asks, holding the tome out to the Professor as she finishes speaking.
Emmrich hesitantly, but politely, accepts the book, looking at it a moment and then shooting a funny look at his visitor. Mary notes them sharing something wordless before they look back at her in a way that immediately sets off warning bells in her tired head.
She immediately looks around the room, the differences suddenly glaringly obvious… The decor was different, the comforting and familiar Grey Warden accouterments nowhere to be seen, the air smelled different too, and when she really focused, she could tell it felt slightly out of sync with how it should feel for her. She glances back at the two men who have slowly shifted their postures, as if readying to defend or react to any sudden movement on her part. How had she missed the Professor not recognizing her? Spirits, she’d really gotten herself into a mess this time.
“So… I’m gonna apologize again, for interrupting your conversation. I appear to be lost. So I’ll just head back the way I came and leave you two to whatever you were doing.” She says with an apologetic smile, as she takes a step backwards.
“Not so fast, young lady. I must insist you stay a moment and answer some questions.” The Professor tells her in his best stern teacher voice, making Mary inwardly wince in response.
“I really rather not, it will just make things messy. Please just let me go, it’ll be for the best.” She replies, taking another step backward, keeping her hands raised just in front of her, to further emphasize she wasn’t trying to cause problems.
“If the Professor wants you to answer some questions, you’ll do that.” The stranger says, his voice rich and accented in a way that she can’t place.
Mary sighs in response, as she notes his very confident and intimidating demeanor. Her tiredness gets shoved aside as her instincts and training kicks in, her senses working overtime to give her as much information as possible, so she can figure a way out of this mess.
Emmrich draws himself up to his full height and does that thing where he holds his hands in front of him in a triangle, as he frowns thoughtfully at her for a moment before asking, “Now then, could you please tell us your name and how you came to be here?”
“Mary Brithari Surana, and I came here through the Vi’Revas, via the Crossroads. Except something must have triggered a fissure or something, as I don’t belong here. My guess would be that book I handed you, as it doesn’t belong here either.” She replies frankly, not seeing the point in lying, as if anyone might believe her it would be the Veilguard’s fade expert.
The stranger makes a sound that comes off as skeptical at the very least, drawing Mary’s attention again as Emmrich seems to ponder her words. Mary stares into his eyes, and taps into her magic just a bit as she inhales.
“Oh. You don’t belong here either. But you’ve acclimated? Or at least it seems that way. Shit. Okay, Professor, let me go please. I don’t want to get stuck here.”
Emmrich seems to hear her genuine worry, her vulnerability at the end making his expression soften slightly.
“You're quite astute in your observations, Miss Surana. What you propose is fascinating, and if time is really of the essence, surely you won’t object to my giving you a quick magical examination?”
Mary stuffs down her urge to run, as she has the distinct impression that Emmrich’s friend would react very quickly and aggressively in response, and just nods a response instead of giving in to that impulse. Emmrich doesn’t waste any time starting his inspection. Mary does her best to stay still, grimacing a few times when his magic tickles her senses, all the while, the other man stays ready to defend against anything Mary might be tempted to try. He clearly was very protective of the Professor… Oh. How had she not noticed the marks before? Or that Emmrich’s hair was slightly mussed?
“Hmm, your etheric resonance is slightly out of sync with our own, which does support your theory that you somehow traveled through a fissure in the fade.” Emmrich says thoughtfully, letting a graceful hand drift to his chin.
“Yeah. It wouldn’t be the first time this happened to me, as I got myself into trouble as a kid more than once. If I wasn’t so exhausted I probably would have seen it and thus avoided this whole mess.” She tells him, realizing too late that she’d probably been a little too honest, as this wasn’t her Emmrich.
“Not the first time? Miss Surana, you will have to elaborate further.” Emmrich says, sounding exactly like a teacher telling his student to defend their work.
Mary takes a deep breath, pinches the bridge of her nose for a moment, and then says with a tone of tired resignation, “Oh sodding hells… Long story short, I am metaphorically a magical unicorn, and thus the normal rules often don’t apply to me. I was born in the Fade, in the Crossroads to be more specific. I am a descendant of more than one powerful magical bloodline, even though I only recently learned about the one on my mother’s side. If you need verification about that, go get Spite, please. But I really should get going. The longer I linger, the harder it will be for me to retrace my steps and return home…”
Both men just stare at Mary with completely different expressions, but neither of them fill her with relief, so she decides it might be time to take action. She doesn’t do anything odd, there is no bracing, or deep breaths taken, she just asks and the fade answers. She shimmers out of existence for a moment, using the skills her mother had taught her to get some space. She knows better than to bolt for the door, or the ramp to the eluvian room, as clearly the other two would not react well to that, so she just gets space as she gathers information. She lets herself slide back into corporeal form once she’s on the stairs, her hands braced on the banister so the two men staring at her can she has not unsheathed any of her weapons, or otherwise done anything threatening.
“Look, I recognize you’re technically the Fade Expert here, Professor, but I just want to go home, to my version of the world. This place smells wrong, and it reeks of your werewolf boyfriend’s weird magic, which makes my nose itch. Although I’m sure he’s perfectly nice, since you clearly like him a lot…” She says, pausing to rub her nose briefly, before continuing.
“Will you please just let me go back the way I came, without any trouble? You can keep the book, I don’t need it to go back.” Mary says, as she looks hopefully at the others, and says a silent prayer to the spirits that she’ll get out of this without too much trouble.
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Hey, @avoskorm, this is mostly your fault... so, tag, you're it. ^_~
Hands and body language become so important and used more often now in daily life. Cass is practically an ambassador/diplomat and Jason becomes the suavest member of the family completely against his will because of that one time with the hands.
Entire conversations held in the space of a moment without saying a single word. A bent neck? Bared teeth? Entwined fingers? Whether its on purpose, out of habit, or unintentional it says a lot.
Social gatherings of a lot of people require more work and special set ups or locations. Everything is much more intimate as people have to be closer to communicate now, no more yelling across the room.
Letters. Of all kinds.
FIRST POST
I find the idea of how the AOB communication develops when sound becomes deadly so interesting.
Body language, scents, hands, silent gestures, the spread of various signing languages- ASL, BSL, self made- all sorts. Letters for sure. All of it tied up with instincts and the silent gestures of AOB instincts and thoughts.
The way people at large would learn to change how they talk to each other. Most using letters, white boards, paper and pen, chalk- people who can sign becoming SO important and teaching others.
Letters being passed back and forth, people keeping stacks of communication. Long distance communication becoming so hard. No one to send and deliver letters, no verbal communications being safe… that’s something to figure out.
Supers may become a SIGHT across borders cause they’re the first real news the place gets of different long distance places.
The people on islands, away from where the creatures got dropped off- or cleared of the creatures and now safe- being so different. They can talk. The creatures are a distant thing, or a memory survived, it's safe here they think, so long as a death angel doesn’t get onto the island.
That culture clash from those who have come in off the mainland, who learned to be vicious and dangerous and silent running into a place that knows the danger yes, but is….brighter, more like before.
I love the idea of hands becoming deeply important in a culture type way to people after this. To touch and write and sign. To be understood, to reach out and show affection the voice can’t anymore. Not unless it’s raining really hard and they keep their voices low.
Cass is SO good at reading everyone. Everyone has to get better at that across the board world wide honestly.
Large gathering don't really happen- even the shuffle of too many feet in one place can get loud enough to kill people. What I imagine happens is specific people/packs get chosen to travel between groups and exchange information, like a railroad of some kind, a giant game of telephone of sorts- probably exchanged in written format so if something happens it can still get moved along.
