[This scene popped into my head, and I wanted to see if I could write a moment between Bruce and Alfred.]
BATMAN: THE LONG YEAR — Pilot Test Scene
Bruce stood beneath the lone lamp in the Cave, reading the case file for what felt like the thousandth time. His cowl hung from one hand like a dead thing. The shadows under his eyes had gone from purple to black over the months, as if someone had pressed their thumbs there and refused to let go.
He hadn’t shaved in four days; the stubble was more gray than black now. When he tore the page from the wall calendar, the rip echoed louder than the ticking grandfather clock behind him.
His watch — the platinum Patek Philippe his father wore the night they died — had stopped at 10:47 p.m. sometime around Labor Day. He never wound it again.
“Did you make me coffee, Alfred?”
Alfred set the tea tray down with the same practiced grace he’d shown for thirty-five years, though the cup rattled once (just once) against the saucer before he steadied it. The morning light crawling into the Cave found new silver threading through his hair, bright as frost, and the skin beneath his collar looked thin enough to tear.
He reached to take the torn calendar page from Bruce’s bleeding fingers. For the first time in Bruce’s memory, Alfred’s hand trembled.
“No, Master Wayne. I made tea.” A pause. “You also have unread texts from Mr. Kent.”
“Clark worries over spilled milk.”
“He is your friend, Master Wayne,” Alfred said as he sat beside him. “Still reading over this case?”
Bruce nodded.
“Don’t you have a wedding to plan?”
Bruce rubbed his eyes. “All is going well this time. No pointless family drama. Crime is low.” He paused. “But Julian Day — Calendar Man — was quietly released from Arkham six months ago on a technicality.”
Another pause.
“In those 236 days, he’s been designing the perfect crime: a year-long murder cycle tied to every major holiday.”
Alfred swallowed. “There’s something wrong with this city.”
When you write something and you don’t necessarily know what to do with it... anyways, enjoy?
warnings | no warnings, very short
~*~*~
Paris was a city of tunnels. Ancient nerves and capillaries twisting underneath the shoe soles of her residents and visitors alike; consciously built into and alongside the bones of the earth. A city of tunnels, a city of buried things, honest shadows encroaching on the city of lights.
Despite years spent traipsing through its beating heart, Gemma still found the city unmatched. The layers of time spreading out from in memorium all the way up to and past the toes of her old boots. It was a place that knew its age, its weight, its undeniable impact on all things. Imparting a subtle change, subtle magic on all those who passed through, who stayed a lifetime, who never managed to extricate their souls totally.
Please forgive me. I didn't want to disappoint you, Sark.
I was always happy to hear you say, "I'm proud of you."
The first thing you taught me was loyalty to the MCP. And while I hated the torture that passed from you to me even trough the connection barrier, I'm so happy to serve shoulder to shoulder with you so to be like you.
I liked to hide my nature in spite of some difficulties. I liked being your secret. And - as I'd say in "real world" - your family.
You are the living flame that broke the darkness.
You're the one who gave me a new name when I couldn't remember my own.
...
I know: You wanted me to stay safe so I could use my powers later. But I still regret that I obeyed that your command.
...
And now I see you after many cycles of separation. I'm so happy to feel your warm energy aura like before...
But what's that odd feeling? I feel the MCP is extremely close but I can't see him here. ...And... I want to be his weapon again.
This "security program" Tron and his friends were ruined the whole System. I remember you fought bravely even despite Flynn's cheating. They are real monsters. But the rest of programs believe these null-units are heroes! This time, I don't want to stand by while the fight goes on.
I wrote another test scene for my side project! Okay, it technically ended up being two scenes, but I got really into it, so whatever. I thought I’d share since I also posted the other test scene I wrote.
Overall, I’m pretty happy with the way this is starting to come together, especially considering this is the first stuff I’ve actually sat down to write in this WIP, and I definitely have enough to start on the actual first draft! I’m so excited, y’all!!!!!!!!
By the time Bellamy landed on the roof of the Morgana Police Department, she was about ready to collapse onto the cold cement and go to sleep. She may have done that, but after a long night of arguing with people that, no, you can’t fly your broom within five-hundred feet of an active airport and, yes, you need some form of illumination attached to your broomstick if you’re going to be flying after dark, she was pretty sure she deserved to at least make it somewhere warm and soft before she passed out.
She sighed and shouldered her broom as she made her way inside. Her eyelids grew heavier and heavier with each step, and her body practically shifted into auto-pilot as she started on her way down the stairs.
She tucked her hat under her arm so that she could fix the way her curly red hair was starting to fall out of the bun she’d tied it into to keep it out of the way.
“Ogden.” In her tired state, she didn’t notice the dwarf lingering by the bottom of the staircase until he spoke directly to her. In fact, she’d been so laser-focused on making her way to her locker to get her things and get out of there that she didn’t stop walking until several moments after he had called her name.
“Can I talk to you for a second?” the dwarf asked.
“Uh…” Bellamy stifled a yawn with the back of her hand as she reeled around to face him. As much as she would’ve loved to continue on her way to the locker rooms to grab her things and then get out of there, she knew that a senior officer like Detective Yewblade wouldn’t be speaking to her unless it was important. “Sure. What is it?”
Yewblade scratched his scraggly beard and narrowed his eyes as he stared up at her in thought. “You were near the top of your class at the academy, weren’t you?”
“Uh…” Bellamy frowned, unsure of where this conversation was leading. “Yeah.”
“And now they’ve got you on broom patrol?”
“Uh… yeah.”
“Waste of perfectly good talent if you ask me.” Yewblade crossed his arms and studied her with narrowed eyes. “Don’t you want something more exciting?”
Bellamy started to open her mouth to say that all she wanted right now was a nap, but something in Yewblade’s voice had piqued her interest. “That… would be nice.”
“I’ll tell you what…” Yewblade tilted his head at her. “I could use a bit of help on my current case. You help me out with this one, and I can put in a good word for you up top. We’ll get you promoted in no time.”
“I…” Bellamy’s voice caught in her throat, and she did her best not to look as caught off guard by that suggestion as she felt. “It would be an honor.”
A grin tugged at the corner of Yewblade’s lips. “Excellent. How about we get you up to speed on this case over a cup of coffee?”
Bellamy nodded, possibly a bit too enthusiastically. “I… I know a good coffee place.”
“Good, good.” Yewblade’s eyes twinkled, and he reached up to pat her on the shoulder. “I’ll take a coffee with a shot of caramel and room for cream. Bring it to my office, and then we can chat.” With that, he hobbled away much faster than his little legs should’ve been able to carry him, leaving Bellamy staring after him in stunned silence.
*****
Bellamy slid her broomstick into the rack on the side of the sidewalk as she made her way past the familiar blue and white striped facade of the Ogden Family Cafe and Bakery. Despite the exhaustion that had been weighing down on her shoulders after such a busy night shift, the smell of freshly brewed coffee that wafted into her nose and the soft music that drifted into her ears from the piano playing itself in the back corner the moment she stepped through the door managed to perk her up enough to keep soldiering on.
“Hey. Bels,” a familiar voice greeted her. “You look like shit.”
Bellamy fought the urge to roll her eyes as she took her place at the back of the line. She smoothed down the front of her dark blue uniform shirt and turned to face her sister. “Shouldn't you be in school?”
“No.” Gwyneth blew a strand of dyed purple hair out of her eyes as she glanced up from where her mop was dancing around, cleaning the floor on its own. “It's Saturday.”
“Oh.” Bellamy frowned. Was she completely losing it, or had one week of working every day without much of a break already made the day of the week seem completely meaningless? “Right.”
Gwyneth hummed and held out her hand for the mop to return to her. “You arrest anyone lately?”
Gwyneth pursed her lips. “What's the point of being a cop if you don't arrest anyone?”
Bellamy started to open her mouth to respond to that, but she quickly thought better of that. She didn't really have the time or the energy to get into an argument with her sister right now. She stared at Gwyneth for a long moment before pulling her gaze away to return her attention to the task of waiting in line. Luckily, she didn't have to wait for long before her mom's warm smile greeted her from behind the counter.
“There’s our favorite police officer!” Her smile widened as she leaned forward on the counter on both hands. “I haven't seen you in days. Come give me a hug.”
“I can't stay long.” Bellamy couldn't quite help the smile that tugged at the corners of her lips at her mom's enthusiasm as she made her way around the counter. “I've gotta get back to work.”
Her mom opened up her arms, and Bellamy hesitated for only a moment before sinking right into the hug. Her shoulders slumped as some of her pent up stress leached out of her, and she buried her face in her shoulder to murmur a quiet “I love you.”
Her mom pulled back after a few seconds. “You're gonna work yourself half to death at this rate.”
“I'm fine, Mom,” Bellamy murmured.
Her mom gently cupped her cheeks in both hands to pull her down to place a kiss on her forehead. Bellamy was tempted to accuse her mom of babying her too much, it felt way too nice right then to complain about.
“Can I…” Bellamy’s voice caught in her throat as she struggled to remember what Yewblade had wanted. “Can I get a black coffee with a shot of caramel and a vanilla latte with a Full Night's Sleep?”
“Sure thing.” Her mom patted her on the shoulder and turned to punch her order into the cash register. “That'll be one hug.”
“You know, I do have actual money,” Bellamy said.
Her mom hummed in acknowledgment and turned to hold her arms out for another hug.
“Mom…” Bellamy heaved a sigh as she accepted the hug, though this time she pulled back after only a couple of seconds. She pulled her wallet out of her back pocket, but her mom grabbed her before she had a chance to pull out any money.
“Go say hi to your mama,” she said. “Your coffee will be ready in a minute.”
Bellamy pursed her lips and willed a couple of five dollar bills from her wallet to teleport into the tip jar before she finally returned her wallet to her pocket. “Mama's in the kitchen, right?”
At her mom's nod of confirmation, Bellamy turned to make her way past towards the kitchen, but she stopped just short of the swinging door as she noticed her brother slamming the lid onto the cup he was holding hard enough that she was momentarily concerned that he was going to spill coffee everywhere.
“Are… you okay?” she asked.
Fabian grumbled under his breath as he tossed the cup over his shoulder so that it would float through the air towards whoever had ordered it. He glanced towards Bellamy for just long enough to give her a good look at his puffed up blue eyes under his glasses.
“I’m fine,” he said, much too forcefully to make himself sound believable.
Bellamy raised an eyebrow at that. “You sure about that?”
Fabian huffed as he yanked the next ticket off of the rack over the counter and grabbed a cup to start brewing the next order.
“Riley broke up with me last night,” he grumbled.
“Oh.” Bellamy frowned. “That sounds like their problem.”
“You don't understand.” Fabian grabbed a second cup to fill. “They texted me to say they didn't want to see me any more. They couldn't even be bothered to call me.”
“You were together like three weeks,” Bellamy said.
Fabian put the lids on both of the cups and sent them flying over his shoulder. “It was four and a half.”
Bellamy rolled her eyes. Honestly, she would have had more sympathy for his situation if she wasn't fairly certain that he would find himself a new partner within the next couple of weeks, but as it was it took all of her willpower not to chuckle at him.
“You'll be fine,” she said instead. She patted him lightly on the back and continued on her way into the kitchen.
The smell of warm chocolate washed over her as soon as she stepped into the kitchen, and her shoulders slumped as she did her best to let the familiar scent help her relax. A smile turned up the corners of her lips at the sight of her mama carefully measuring out muffin batter into a tray, though that smile quickly fell at the serious expression stuck on her face as she looked up from her work towards Bellamy. The line of freckles dotting her cheeks and nose was broken up as she scrunched up her nose in thought, her bright green eyes regarding Bellamy as if she was unsure of what to make of her presence.
“Uh… hi?” Bellamy sounded unsure of herself as she did her best to interpret her mama's expression.
“I've been expecting you.” Bellamy wasn't so sure that her mama meant to sound so ominous, but God she did a good job of that. “It's a big day.” Her mama stepped back from the counter to approach her, leaving the batter frozen mid-pour as the bowl stayed suspended in mid-air. “Isn't it?”
“I…” Bellamy’s voice caught in her throat. “I guess it could be. Why? Did you see something about today?”
Mama didn't actually answer that question. Of course, Bellamy hadn't actually expected her to do so, but it would have certainly made for a pleasant surprise to get a straight answer out of her for once. Instead, she straightened the badge pinned to the front of Bellamy’s shirt and placed a gentle kiss to her cheek. A small white box flew from the shelf behind her into her hands, and she offered the box to Bellamy. “I made you some raisin bread.”
Bellamy accepted the box with a murmur of thanks, though she wasn't entirely sure how to feel about it. Sure, her mama was a damn good cook, but that didn't mean she was good enough to make Bellamy want to eat a raisin.
“Don't worry.” Judging by her tone, Mama must have sensed her confusion. “It'll be important later.”
“Um…” Bellamy took a deep breath, but she fought the urge to question that point. She wasn't so sure there was a proper answer to that anyways. Nevertheless, she trusted her mama's intuition, so she nodded and tucked the box under her arm. “Okay.”
Mama patted her on the shoulder and gave her another kiss on the cheek as she turned to return to her muffins. She poured a couple more muffins before her gaze suddenly snapped back up towards Bellamy. “Oh, and Bel?”
“Y… yeah?” Bellamy inched backward towards the door.
“Don’t blame yourself if today doesn’t turn out the way you were hoping.”
TAGLIST (lemme know if you want to be added or removed): @percvalx, @adaparkwrites
I wrote about 1000 words for this side project that may or may not end up as a part of the final product. It’s still a bit rough around the edges (which is to be expected since I literally just wrote it), but I’m still kinda happy with the way it turned out, so I thought I’d share here. I’ve still got to write a little test scene for my other main character just to make sure that everything’s working out the way I want, but then I may have enough figured out to start drafting for real!!!
All of Ray’s friends were dead, but that was just the way he liked it. At least, that’s what he told himself every time he slipped back through the black iron gates into the rows and rows of gray tombstones peaking through the layer of snow on the ground.
Sure, maybe it would be nice to be friends with someone that he could actually touch, but Ray had never been very good with living people. Ghosts were better conversationalists anyways.
He made a sharp left to avoid the dozen or so mourners congregating around a fresh grave. He kept his head down in the hopes that no one would pay him any mind. The absolute last thing he needed was to get kicked out of the only place he actually felt welcome in this godforsaken city.
“Ray!” A ghostly figure seemingly popped into existence in front of him, stopping him dead in his tracks. “Dude! What’s up?”
Ray heaved a sigh as he lifted his gaze up from the ground. The first time he had met Chris, he had been somewhat taken aback by the stab wounds that were prominently visible through his torn Bon Jovi t-shirt, but now his eyes drifted right over the wounds and up to the grin that seemed to be permanently plastered onto Chris’s face and the blond curls falling into his eyes.
“Can we not do this right now?” Ray asked.
Chris’s expression grew ever so slightly more serious, and he bobbed up and down in mid-air. “You alright, dude?”
Ray huffed and tightened his grip on his plastic shopping bag. “I'm fine.”
Chris didn't seem convinced by that. “You sure?”
“I…” Ray idly fidgeted with his hoodie strings. “I got banned from another store.”
“Dude.” Chris frowned. “That is, like, totally bogus.”
“Yeah.” Ray sighed. “It is.”
“Listen, dude…” Chris attempted to sling an arm over Ray’s shoulder, but he passed right through him. “Every rose has its thorn.”
“What…” Ray’s voice caught in his throat. “What does that even mean?”
Chris scoffed. “It’s only one of the greatest songs ever written.”
Ray’s expression remained blank as he stared up at him.
“You know… Poison?”
Ray opened his mouth to point out, yet again, that he knew nothing about human music, but he ultimately decided that that was a fruitless effort. “Can you” — he fished the kitten from his front hoodie pocket, much to Pumpkin’s chagrin — “watch Pumpkin for me? I want to be alone for a little while.”
“Sure thing, dude.”
Ray hugged Pumpkin to his chest before reluctantly placing him on the ground. Pumpkin mewed in protest at being placed in the snow.
“I’m sorry, baby.” Ray scratched the top of Pumpkin’s head. “But Chris’ll take good care of you.”
“Yeah!” Chris nodded enthusiastically. He crouched to pet the cat as best he could whilst being incorporeal. “You are in most excellent hands, little dude.”
Ray glanced between them a couple of times before he finally managed to tear his gaze away from them. He exhaled sharply and continued on his way towards the large oak tree nestled in the back corner of the cemetery. He pulled his hood down and ruffled his hair with one hand. Taking a deep breath, he dropped down to his knees in the snow.
He drew a crude circle in the snow with his bare hands. He took a shaky breath, and he started to pull things out of the bag to place in the middle of the circle: a container of ground cinnamon, a plastic wrapped blueberry muffin, a ball of pink yarn, and a brand new pair of oven mitts.
Ray shoved the plastic bag into his hoodie pocket to dispose of properly later, and he took another deep breath. He leaned forward, placing one hand on either side of the circle as he stared down at the items he’d placed within.
“M… mom,” he mumbled, his voice barely more than a whisper. “Please just… talk to me.”
The ground began to shake ever so slightly beneath Ray’s fingertips. The snow on the inside of the circle began to rapidly melt, revealing the frozen grass underneath.
A soft purple light emerged from inside the circle, and the ground began to shake with a bit more vigor.
The grass rapidly decomposed, wilting and turning a light shade of brown before eventually decomposing into the dirt.
All the items on the inside of the circle shook violently before eventually sinking down into the earth.
The light dispelled, and the ground stopped shaking as quickly as it had begun.
Ray fell back into a sitting position, his shoulders slumping and his eyelids drooping as the effort of casting the Summoning spell took its toll on him. Now, all he needed to do was be patient. It shouldn’t be too long now until his message found its way to his mother’s spirit, and then—
“Oh, Raaaaaaaaaay.”
For a brief moment, Ray managed to get his hopes up that his mother had actually answered him, but the way the shrill voice dragged out his name was so completely unlike his mother that he couldn’t believe it no matter how much he wanted to.
“Agnes…” Ray sighed and glanced over his shoulder towards the woman in the singed, floor-length white dress hovering a few inches above the ground behind him. “I’m sort of in the middle of something.”
“That is no reason to ignore me.” Agnes crossed her arms and drifted around him so that she could stare down at him over her large, crooked nose. “Children these days, my word.”
Ray brushed the snow off of his pants as he pulled himself to his feet. “I’m eighty-three,” he stated flatly.
Agnes scoffed. “Now you’re talking back to me.”
Ray ran a hand through his hair and dropped his gaze back down towards the circle in the snow. His message should’ve gone through by now. Why wasn’t his mother answering him? Did she not want to speak to him? No… no that couldn’t be it. Something had to be wrong. Maybe he needed to try the spell again. Maybe—
“Raaaay.” Agnes clapped her hands for attention. “I am speaking to you.”
Ray sighed and shoved his hands into his hoodie pocket. “What do you want now?”
Agnes pursed her lips and drifted upwards a few inches so that she could look down on Ray as she spoke. “That new fellow seems to be having a hard time adjusting.” She pointed somewhere over Ray’s shoulder with a bony finger. “You should go speak to him.”
Ray spun around in time to see the last of the mourners slipping out through the cemetery gate, leaving a lone, semi-transparent figure lingering around the freshly dug grave. He was about to point out that there was no reason for him, specifically, to have to help this new guy adjust to life as a ghost, but something about the way his spectral form all but collapsed on the ground in tears tugged at Ray’s heartstrings in the right way to make him want to help him. Ray’s gaze drifted down towards his Summoning circle one last time before he heaved a sigh and looked back up towards Agnes.
“Alright,” he said. “I’ll see what I can do.”
TAGLIST (Ask to be added or removed): @percvalx, @adaparkwrites
