#stonefoxy

[cosmoteer]

@stonefoxy asked:

"Nobody's actually that upset that you clocked him." (pym)

"Please did you see the look on Ms Frosts face? She was super pissed that I wiped the floor with Julian. I don't think the rest of the student body was pissed though." The Hellions were getting way too big for their breeches and it was up to Alpha to put them back in their place... or well Azari had taken it upon himself to do it. He hadn't even used his powers which was more embarrassing for a mutant.

His squad hadn't really been involved. It was insulting Pym that had gotten him all riled up like that. He didn't care what team you were on you did not call his favourite little guy a freak right in front of Azari's face. He was probably going to get a detention for this. Then his dad was going to yell at him down the phone but say good job after.

"I just don't like his attitude and it's not like his lack of hands means that he can't fight back. He's so going to pull that he's defenseless in the office when I'm called in later but he let himself get wailed on."

[snkts]

(Piotr) "Logan, I have gift for you!" and Piotr presents Logan with a carving of a little wolverine out of wood.

He likes this spot. It's quiet, secluded, far enough from the mansion he can't hear the usual hubub. It's nice. It's his. He's pretty sure the kids haven't found it yet - it's a bit too far out to make it worth the hike for the students. If they do know about it, they never come here. Any scents that aren't his, and aren't animal, are generally faded and stale. His is fresh. He comes here a lot.

And he's here now, lying in the grass and watching the clouds.

"This is living," he mutters to himself. Safe, and quiet, and free. This is what he needs. Then, distantly, there are footsteps. Heavy ones, rhythmic ones. He knows who that is. What he doesn't know is, what the hell is ol' Chrome Dome doing so far out? Logan sighs to himself, sinking into the grass and closing his eyes again. He doesn't sit up, but nor does he make any move to leave or hide. He's comfy; Piotr will understand.

"Whatever it is, I didn't do it." He quips, smirking. He didn't sense any reason to be concerned. Then Piotr talks, and instead of concerned, or lazy, or any of that, Logan's surprised. That makes him sit up.

"A what?" He raised a brow. What was that for? He climbs to his feet - seems only polite, and accepts the gift with both hands. "Shit, this is nice... Where'd you find it?"

[cosmoteer]

@stonefoxy asked: “ I don't think the world needs another hero. ” (Lynda to Hobie)

Hobie liked this about Lynda, they didn't see eye to eye on a lot of issues but he was glad they fell on the same page when it came to Spider-man. Lynda had no idea that it was him and if she did then she didn't clue Hobie in to that she did know. Lynda thought of Hobie as a musician who was a talented photographer. She said the words as Hobie placed down his latest pictures for her front page.

"Nah he's not a hero, just a bloke." Hobie never gave away his secrets for taking a good spider-man photo and Lynda never asked. He watched as she went thought the pictures, putting them in order of preference. Hobie didn't want to be a hero he just wanted to liberate people from the system that had them all pinned down and helpless.

He knew Lynda was radical. She was a good reporter but she'd been too good at uncovering the truth and the bugle had to let her go. Now she ran her own small time paper, but Hobie knew the walls had ears even in here.

"Being an idol and a hero means you've sold out innit? Him and his little spider gang haven't signed a label, unheard of in the music biz. You'd think a bloke with a message would want help spreading it." Hobie was usually their music reporter but had gone in to part time photographer when he lied that going to gigs gave him opportunities to snap pictures of the spider-band. "Listen I better make like a tree before your fella thinks that we're snogging in here."

[cosmoteer]

@stonefoxy asked: “ I really hate it when negotiations go sour. ” (Spike to Hobie)

Hobie laughed. Spike had played right in to Lynda's hands. There was never going to be a negotiation, no you played right in to Lynda's hand and she made you think that it was her idea. Hobie learned faster than spike that you needed to stand your ground with her to get any respect in that newspaper office. "You having a laugh mate? first rule of negotiating with Lynda is to never go in there empty handed." Hobie pointed to Lynda's office. Possibly the 9th circle of hell if you were going in for anything that wasn't to hand her the front page mock up that she wanted.

"You have to go in there with something to bargain with mate." Hobie leans back in his office chair and rests his feet on his desk, something he's not supposed to do but it's not like any of the staff can make him care about being uncomfortable. "You have to go to Lynz with a story, with something that she can use. Info, an exclusive or if you're me, pictures innit. A good photo awards you with certain freedoms with your story."

Hobie looks over at Lynda's office. "And trust me it has to be sick, needs to be one proper piece of kit you're bringing because otherwise you're not getting the thing you want out of her and she'll play you like a bloody wind instrument."

[cosmoteer]

@stonefoxy asked: when given the choice between a ritual and a festival i always ask the important question - which one has more of a party? (ambrose)

Now this was the kind of thought provoking question that Ripper liked. Ambrose always had something interesting to bring to the table. He weighed the options as he stirred his cup of coffee. Ripper wasn't a big fan of coffee, he didn't have the taste for it. He was a tea drinker or a whiskey drinker. Which ever was going. He brought the cup to his lips and took a sip.

"Well a festival depends on what kind of festival it is, a music festival? Maybe. Depends on the type of music innit love?" Now that wasn't the only type of festival there were others. "I guess there's not much of a party at the sheep and wool festival..." he moved his thoughts to the types of rituals.

"Rituals though, depends on the kind of ritual... though personally I think those are more of parties. Festivals of the musical verity take a bit to get going, rituals have people going from the start and there's a fifty fifty chance of a rager at someone house after."

Ripper grinned, he scooted over closer to Ambrose and leaned in to his frame. Ambrose would know what he wanted, for Ambrose's arm to be draped over him, Ripper would then place his free hand on Ambrose's thigh in a fair exchange of physical contact. "Alright I'm locking in my final answer, I'm going with the ritual. The one's I've been too tend to get rowdy and those witches really know how to party."

[finaltalon]

There's nothing more to say. You have your opinions. I have mine. (Tomlin) || @stonefoxy

"You committing theft isn't just an opinion I have it's a fact." The streets of Antiva city was always rife with crime and petty theft but Zevran knew who'd stolen from him. He couldn't go back to the crows without a particular signet ring in his possession, that was his proof of completing his contract. They're both around the same age, Zevran isn't more than 20. He holds Tomlin's arm tightly, they're Dalish, he can tell from their tattooed face, their Vallaslin. Zevran also had his face tattooed and some other parts of himself tattooed but they marked himself as Antivan not Dalish. Zevran didn't even think of himself as an elf. "Oh but I do think there is more to say. Look at you. You're hungry and you're not used to the city. You don't know how to make money. You don't have the means to go hunting. So you commit petty theft." Zevran had many friends who stole out of desperation. It was just how things were when you were starving and when you weren't picked up as a child and crafted in to a skilled assassin.

Zevran figured that Tomlin was recently separated from their Dalish clan. Someone this pretty would have been picked up by one of the great houses. They did their rounds frequently in the orphanages and the brothels. Anywhere there was unwanted elven children to be bought the crows would pay the price for them.

Zevran holds up the ring that Tomlin had picked from his pockets showing that he too was well versed in the arts of dexterity. "You see I know what you are because you hid it exactly where I would have." Zevran holds on to the ring tightly.

"I am doing you a favour, you would go to sell this and get all the wrong kinds of attention. The kind that would have you locked up or killed." He was really trying to help them. Usually if someone picked his pockets he didn't mind but this ring would only cause trouble.

"You look hungry, how about we forget nasty business such as theft and I pay for a hot meal. How does that sound? Better than going to the pawn shop yes?"

[dementedspeedster]

Does Thad have any thoughts or feelings about his time as Bart? He made what he believed was real connections with people, including a home with Max and Helen and friendships with the Young Justice team. Even Dox. What did he feel while it was happening, directly afterwards, and now years later?

Accepting || Send me or my muse curious anons

As my version of Thad is now, he finds the time when he was impersonating Bart to be bittersweet, there were good moments and bad moments, though sometimes it is just completely bitter for him.

The part of him that finds some sweetness in that time is the part that liked being a hero. He liked the praise from the people he helped, he liked that he was sorta good at it, and maybe if he stuck with it long enough he would have come to associate those feelings with liking that he could help people and make a difference in their lives.

While the rest of the experience is bitter because he doesn't see the connections he formed as genuine (and they're honestly not).

The way he views the connections he made with Helen and Bart's Alabama friends is that they weren't exactly real. As a kid he wanted them to be real, but as an adult he understands that these people didn't actually love or like him as himself. They just thought he was Bart. From his perspective now as an adult, he just looks at that time logically and clinically, and understands that he craved friendship and familial relationships as a child that he didn't receive from his own family and in being raised in the 30th Century. He now knows that their feelings weren't towards him as Thad, but towards Bart.

Because they didn't know him as himself. Sure parts of his true identity would slip out, but for all intents and purposes he was trying to be Bart and they saw and treated him as Bart.

Of everyone he has the most positive feelings towards Max albeit in a retrospective sense. Max may not like him, or what he's done, or even like the person he is now, but Thad likes and appreciates Max because he tried. He tried to see him and help him.

And with regard to Dox, I'd say he was ambivalent/neutral towards him during the time since he pretty much was just bribing the pup with treats the entire time so he wouldn't blow his cover. Now he would probably actually like the dog/try to get to know him a bit.

[finaltalon]

@stonefoxy asked: The child gets to his feet with a wince and gives Zevran a look. "I have a name, they just won't use it." He pops his arm back into the socket with a move that only practice could make seem so easy. "They don't like my attitude. That's why they're sending me out. And they'll be mad with you for even talking to me."

The crows were known for the cruel treatment of their fledglings. This boy looked like he was he was just old enough to graduate or he was on the verge of graduating if he hadn't yet. Elven, tanned skin with the bite of someone who who'd been wronged by every adult who had been supposed to care for him. It sounded familiar.

Zevran had a soft spot for the children of House Arainai, it was his house. The house that had wronged him and had clearly wronged this boy. Zevran was determined to change things he knew that he'd been bought and either ripped away from his family or willingly sold in to the service of the crows.

He couldn't help but laugh at the idea of House Arainai being mad at him for talking to one of their fledglings. "Do not worry, they were mad at me long before you were born." Zevran was clerly presented as the Black Shadow but to a fledgling who had only heard whispers and stories of the assassin who had killed every guild master who rose to fill the gap in House Arainai, Zevran as he was right now could just be any other Antivan Crow from any other house in the country.

"You're tough, you have big cojones, of course they don't like your attitude. You're hard to beat in to submission, you're good at what you do and you know it. That's dangerous to them. Especially to this house." Zevran folded his arms over his chest. "They know you'd be able to make it without them and they do not want you thinking that."

He's trying to encourage defiance, trying to show the young Crow that there were gentler hands that could help him break free of his not so gilded cage. "So tell me your name, I know you have one. One that they did not give you. One that is entirely your own and not owned by House Arainai. They will not use it but I will."

Zevran held on to his own name, it was Dalish he had no idea what clan he was from nor did he consider himself so. He usually forgot that he was an elf until someone pointed it out normally by calling him a clever slur like knife ear.

"How about we do a trade, my name is Zevran." He watched the fledgling. "Now this is the part where it is your turn to tell me your name. Take your time I can wait."