Why doesn't the justice league know about Amity Park?
Okay so it's been a bit sonce I watched the show but one of the things in DpxDC is the anti-ecto acts, which I love, but correct me if I'm wrong, I THINK ??? they only show up in reality trip? SO:
What if Danny, when using the gauntlet to undo everything, also got rid of the Anti-Ecto acts? but this is babys first time editing reality so he uh
Fucks Up A Lil'.
As a result when Danny used the reality gauntlet to wipe the AEA from existence he accidentally wiped Amity Park from perception.
A big 'nothing matters over here' jedi mind trick, and now no ones looking at Amity.
So, the Justice League actually WERE looking into and monitoring the situation in Amity, but when the perception filter closed them off, all of that suddenly went ignored.
This is noticed when someone (Alfred, Dick, Tim, literally anyone) realises theres just. A BIG dusty pile of case files semi abandoned somewhere in the cave when going through a (time period)ly cave cleaning.
They put it down because it's Not Important.
They come back to finish the cleaning the next day and do the exact same thing, but there's nothing to actually distract them this time and it pings as weird. Because why would case files be not important? They are by definition important, because only things flagged as important go into case files.
They try to get someone else to read it, because as long as they don't read the information in the file, they don't put it down.
That person goes to read it, gets a line in and then says something like 'that isn't important' and goes to leave. Person A pushes it and person B ALSO catches on.
Que the Batfam trying to figure out hey, what the fuck actually?
Meanwhile, how is Amity fairing? Canon compliant everything's going alright? Or have knock on effects to No One Look Here started to show?
Despite all of the terrible things that had happened in Paris, Azrael and Tao had still gotten their homes there. Of course, with the attacks, they had to delay, but they had their mansion on the outskirts of Paris, and their home in Paris.
But because of the delay, they hadn’t managed to obtain the place in China they were looking at. They still had Azrael’s penthouse, of course. The angel needed it to keep up appearances, after all,
Azrael was moving about their mansion, fixing things, repainting, redecorating, and just generally tidying up. Most of it was done, of course. But he wanted it to be absolutely perfect for his Kitten. The most ideal home Tao could ever desire.
Azrael was humming one of Tao’s sweet songs to himself as he moved about dusting away when the french patio doors across the room suddenly flew open. A figure could be seen silhouetted against the softly billowing dusky pink curtains.
Death didn’t even need to turn around and look to know who it was. The hair stood on the back of his neck and his stomach jumped up into his throat. There was only one who could cause such a reaction from their mere aura. “Uriel…” Azrael calmly set the duster down before he slowly turned to face his brother in wings.
To anyone who didn’t know Uriel, surely, they would find him a beauty befitting the title of angel. Tall, broad shouldered, well toned with warmly tanned skin, mousy brown hair in a messy style, and eyes like golden fire. Oh yes, he was the most ideal image of that sweet boy next door that would gladly help you in with your groceries, or cut your lawn, or climb up that tree to retrieve your cat.
Appearances, however, were always greatly deceiving. And the grin that gradually spread over Uriel’s face as was the kind of grin that could surely make anyone feel sick. Even more so, it was the look in his eyes that caused the great archangel of death to feel his insides churn.
Many believed that the eyes of a cold blooded killer were hollow and empty. The kind of eyes that looked through you, deep into your soul, and devoured it without batting a lash.
In Uriel’s case, it was the complete opposite. They weren’t hollow, or empty. In fact, they were quite full. Full of a terrible blood thirsty beast aching to sink its teeth into death itself.
“Hello, Azrael.” The taller angelic being gave greeting as he stared into the gaze of the presumably smaller male. There was something sinister laced in his far too sweet a tone. It was that tone that always sent an unnerving chill down Azrael’s spine.
“What are you doing here, Uriel…?” Azrael’s brows furrowed with an uneasiness. He felt like a rabbit trapped by a fox. There was really only one reason Uriel was there, and Azrael knew it.
But Uriel’s features fell momentarily into a most innocent pout as he took a step into the room. And then another. And another. Each step was calculated as he moved around the furniture. He was like a predator, stalking, waiting for its moment to strike.
“Can a brother not want to see his little sister?” He paused for a moment. “I use that term vaguely.” He gestured to the smaller angel. “It’s been so frightfully long since you’ve visited home and I’ve missed you.”
Uriel was drawing ever closer. “I can’t say I care for this appearance you’ve been taking. I want to see your real face, my real sister. Won’t you show me~?” Uriel’s grin had returned, and Azrael wanted to growl a low and deep growl of warning.
He refrained.
“Get fucked, Uriel.” Azrael somehow found the courage to spit out an insult at the older angel, which caused him to stop and stare at the smaller archangel almost blankly.
In the blink of an eye, Uriel vanished, only to appear right in front of Azrael. His hand shot out and gripped the archangel of death but the throat.
“Is that any way to speak to your elder?” Uriel’s expression was dark, and there was that ravenous monster in his eyes again. “I said, show me your true face!” With a growl in his tone, Uriel slammed Azrael into the wall, and in that instant, he had changed. Azrael was no longer the appearance of a young man he called Lei, but was now in her original form.
The tanned angel gave a blood curdling chuckle as he leaned in. “Ahhh. Much better. There’s the sweet faced little sister I adore so much…~” Azrael gripped onto Uriel’s wrist, but could not pull it away. “You’ve stayed away for far too long. I do so miss our little games…” Uriel’s tongue out, and slowly dragged it up along Azrael’s cheek. She grimaced, and shuttered in disgust. “I think we’re long overdue for some fun together…~”
His words echoed in her mind like a call in the distance as his hand gripped her neck tighter. He lifted her off of her feet, and in his free hand, suddenly appeared a golden knife. It was a weapon of holy craft.
With expert movement, he flipped the knife in his hand, and plunged it into her side. Azrael let out a scream of pain, and he twisted it in her flesh with a sickening squelch just for good measure. He pulled it from her so quickly, crimson hot blood spurted from the wound to paint the floor.
For hours, he would toss her about like a ragdoll, decorating her skin with slice after slice, knowing she would not dare fight back.
Dal brings Anovis food. Is it good food? Dal has no idea, he cannot taste. But food usually seems to make people feel good.
unspoken fluff starters
It was rare for Anovis to find a friend in the Guild; many were so young that being seen with a half-mad, old Dunmer was an embarrassment, and more still preferred to steal their meals than hunt for them or purchase food honestly. So Anovis sat in the corner of the Ragged Flagon pouring over a history book– something about a ‘Great War’ that he hoped would fill in some of what he missed in his three decades on Solstheim. His stomach growled again, angry at the old mer for not providing it food; with a shake of his head, he pushed the sound to the back of his mind. It had been a slow week for even the best of the Guild, let alone a thief like Anovis. The growl was beginning to become distracting.
A shadow looming over him forced Anovis to set down his book, if only because it blocked out his only source of light. He looked up to see Dalamus holding a plate of food. From the smell, some sort of fish, but in Riften, everything tended to smell like fish. When the other Dunmer handed him the plate, it was all Anovis could do to avoid digging in and eating like an animal. “I-- thank you, Dalamus,” he said quickly. As he took a few bites, he noted that while it wasn’t quite... perfect, it was certainly better than nothing. The bread was rather dry though. He gulped down another bite before setting aside the plate.
“Thank you, but do you not need anything to eat?” he asked, giving the younger mer a glance over.
If there was one thing that Ciel Phantomhive had learned, it was that not all experiences and sensations were created equal.
For example, some human senses were more primal and memorable than others.
He woke to the sound of the sharp cracking as the maple table in his room gave way, the fire licking its broken legs like a lover. He heard the screaming horses from the stables outside. His eyesight, although now impaired by his eyepatch, was acute. In the midst of the fire, he could easily pick out small details of his smouldering home as he ran. He could see the steam seeping from the cracks in the hallway, as the fire superheated the water from the basement. He saw the curling tendrils of wallpaper as he ran down the hallway, the print of roses and lilies slowly burning away into twisted briars and singed thorns. Although obscured by smoke, he saw hordes of small animals fleeing from the grounds and into the woods as he passed a great, cracked window. He saw the reddening and bulging of his own skin, as his fingers blistered when he tried to retrieve a family picture whose silver frame had been heated to an untouchable temperature. As he glanced into a gaping hole in a wall, he noticed the other parts of his home, already more exposed from the fire. In those he saw the fine woods of the structure exposed and bumped like lizard’s skin with dark charring. He saw dead heterochromic eyes boring into his own. He saw the puckering, scabbed wounds of his mother and father’s skin, where the stitches entered one form and exited the other, pulling at the swollen, dead flesh.
However, he did not remember these details anymore. They were seared into the back of his mind for ever more, but unreachable, except for in the honey-heavy dew of his tormented slumber.
What he could remember, though, were the smells. This sense was more more primal, and more connected to his conscious memory. The acrid scents of seared furs from his mother’s wardrobe penetrated his head and twisted his features into a grimace. He smelled burned breads as he ran past the kitchen. He never forgot the smell of burning flesh, the strange combination of overdone steak and rust as their blood boiled inside of their skin.
So, when Bard had accidentally burned some large raw roast in the kitchen, and the smell reached Ciel’s nostrils, it was understandable that his body reacted by doubling over in fear.
Sebastian found him much in the same condition as he would have found him after a particularly vivid night terror: curled in a small heap in the corner behind his bed, under his vast duvet, tear stained face contorted in fear and trembling. However the Young Lord was perfectly awake, and huddled behind his desk without the comfort of his down blanket. Ciel was painfully exposed, with his hands clawing into his hair, trying to grasp at something unmoving, whimpering to himself faintly. Any other being would not have been able to distinguish the meaning of the young lord’s faint mewls, however the words were clear to Sebastian.
“Help. Help me. Help.”
The dark-clad butler smirked to himself. How out of character of his young master to show such emotional turmoil. Of course, once Ciel became aware of his silent companion’s presence, he desperately tried to compose himself, silenced his pleas for help, and commanded his butler to leave, in many words unbefitting a boy of noble birth.
Baekhyun raises an eyebrow at Jongdae and then slowly looks above them. “Well look at that,” he drawls, unimpressed. “It seems we really are. I’m definitely not accusing you of planting that there intentionally at all.” His voice is dry while he pins his coworker with a blank stare.
He’d totally planned this, for sure. The manager had tugged him towards the office, saying that they “really, absolutely needed to discuss some work related things right now” and then had stopped short in the doorway with a shit-eating grin on his face and chirped out that charming line. From the way Jongdae’s eyes were dancing with mirth and how much he generally seemed pleased with himself, this had most definitely been a set up.
"All right." Baekhyun heaves a long-suffering sigh. "Let’s just get it over with, then.
With Lightning heading off to work, it left the Huntress at a loss of what to actually do for the rest of the evening, the bearing down heat of the Pulsian sun had made her lazier than a kitten most days. It was rather unlike her to be this way considering her heritage but now that she had finally settled down with the love of her life, she felt she could at least relax on days like this and wanted to make the most of it no matter what came her way. Fang whom had been lounging on the sofa most of the day in her vest and shorts had finally managed to peel herself from it after finding herself there with her kissing that Pinkette goodbye to head to work and laying there with the fan on, watching the TV but she had a promise to keep to her girlfriend considering that woman wished to sit out on that beach with her when the time came for her coming home.
Walking over to the kitchen with her bare feet making those pattering sounds on the floor, she looks a little saddened. Those recent revelations were still hard upon Fang given that they had to maintain the status quo for a while until all of this danger had blown over, wherever it may be right now but there was always that possibility...That small possibility that she would be able to soon pop that question. Fang didn't know why it was so important to her but it left a dull ache in her heart and she knew that Lightning was feeling it also, it seemed like the final step that they could take. "And that's why it needs to be saved...Sunshine is right..." She reassures herself, smiling away with her hand upon that amethyst and amber jewelled bolt necklace around her neck, there was no time for moping around and wishing for things that could not happen right now.
Taking out a pitcher, she starts to make up that drink that she and Lightning had shared the last time the sun had blazed down on them, she wanted to do something special for her and considering that night the two of them ended up on top of one another kissing in the light of the moon and the stars above, it would be a fine reminder to the Cocoonian of these kinds of nights. Putting in some cherry drink mix into the pitcher, she starts to fill up the rest with pinapple and lemonade for some more flavour and adding to that she unloads the ice in there also to cool it down before stirring it around, deep in thought about everything that was transpiring lately. Xion had not been home all day and it was starting to worry Fang quite severly, she had not gone into her room yet as she had this strange sense of forboding of what she may find there but never could she explain her bad feelings.
"Guessin' lady luck would rather I not poke around my beloved daughter's thin's or somethin' like that."
Placing a hand against her slightly sweaty brow, she brushes it off and then holds an ice cube to it, she could hardly believe how hot it had gotten over the past few days but she had hardly noticed when she had been spending so much time in the Vile Peaks helping to train up the new defence force and Guardian Corp against the relics of Cocoon's military structure. Then when she had gotten home, she spent most of her time sitting with Lightning eating ice cream together and laughing about the various shenanigans of their friends and family, all the while enjoying the feeling of one another's company. For the first time in generations, Fang actually had felt at home here in New Bodhum and wished that Vanille felt the same way as well in her new abode, it was nice to know that her family were all starting to pull together their own and growing, Fang never felt left behind but content.
Putting that pitcher in the fridge, the Pulsian woman sets about doing something else that she had promised to try after finally getting the computer to work with Hope's help and finding several recipe's she could try there. Busting out the Nutella and hoping to hell that her strawberry sundae would not kill her for this, she set about making some ice cream out of it which quite a bit of gusto. Something about doing this felt rather fulfilling to Fang, after she had to learn how to be so homely during her time in the orphanage, being the oldest kid there and matron constantly badgering her about it. Doing this for Light felt like how she used to take care of Vanille, those small special treats that made her smile and she knew it did the same for Light whom was not used to this kind of treatment all of the time.
"Makin' her feel loved...Strange...How did I get to be this sappy, eh?"
Fang mused to herself about this, true she was still as relentlessly teasing as usual and had managed to sneak in on Lightning's shower just today before work for a little stress release for the both of them after this heat, she didn't regret the fact that initially she had an earful of it but with perseverance...She finally got Lightning to loosen up and let her in, just as she did all those years ago. Finally, Fang had someone she could laugh with, cry with and feel blissful pleasure and crippling pain without that sense that it would end at any moment, one that she could open her heart to and let inside without that sting of rejection and loss being so cruelly given to her. Fang could trust Lightning, with anything and with her own life if need be...
And that was all the Huntress ever needed for reasons to do what she did.
