#fetcher no. 1 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

amenders93 · 5 months

Text

1 Week till Chicken Run 2!!!!!!

At the end of every good story, whenever there is a couple involved, their romantic relationship officially starts when the villain is defeated or a problem has been resolved. What happens is that the couple proclaims their love for each other by telling each other how they feel or sometimes by showing it without even talking. A good example would be like a big hug where one spins the other and then afterwards they share a passionate kiss. Last week's post showed that Rocky chose to return to the farm to help his friends and just in time to save Ginger's life once again. Like the good team they are and the future leaders they will be together, Rocky and Ginger worked together to save their flock. After a scary and risky encounter in the air, they also managed to defeat Mrs. Tweedy and destroy the pie machine at the same time. Now our young feathered lovers are safe and together, happy to have each other back in their lives forever. And better yet, not only are they safe but all their fine feathered friends are safe too. I know I stopped right at the good part but I wanted to save the best for last, and for a good reason too. So now this week, we're going to see the relationship between Rocky and Ginger go from just blooming to official.

Let's pick up to where the plane is soaring high above the farm. We see the farm is destroyed with the barn blown up and gravy is covering much of the land and the remaining buildings (the farmhouse and the huts in the chicken coop). Inside the plane, Ginger is happily looking down to see their old home destroyed, knowing that the chickens were never going back now. And now it's time to celebrate; the chickens all erupt into wild cheers! After being stuck on that miserable farm for so long, the chickens (and rats) are finally safe and free at last! For the chickens, no more morning egg counts, farmers, dogs, coops, keys and especially fences. For the rats, just being away from the farm should be plenty of reward.

Everywhere in the plane, there is much celebration going around. In the cockpit, Mac plants a kiss on Fowler's cheek, much to the old rooster's surprise. Down in the hold, Rocky spins Ginger around in a big hug. Babs and Bunty embrace each other and even Nick and Fetcher cry as they share a hug. But here comes the best part - Rocky pumps a fist in the air and Ginger suddenly shuts his beak. She turns him towards her and gives her handsome rooster the most passionate kiss ever. At first Rocky is a little surprised but then wraps his wings around his beautiful hen. True Love's First Kiss!!!! 👩🏼‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏼💋

All the hens go aww seeing their trusted leader and her true love share their first kiss. Unfortunately they're so distracted by this beautiful scene that they have stopped pedaling, and the plane starts to tilt to the left a bit. The chickens are brought back to reality and start to pedal again, causing the plane to rise again. Fowler calls down from the cockpit, telling the hens to keep pedaling since they're not at their destination yet. He also adds that they can't see paradise if they don't pedal. As this exchange is happening, the plane continues to flap its makeshift wings and flies towards distant hills as the sun rises. The golden rays warm up the countryside, but this sunrise is altogether different. This sunrise doesn't just symbolize the start of a new day but also the start of a new life for the chickens that have achieved freedom after being held prisoner for so long.

Some time later, we find our animal friends enjoying their freedom and living their lives as best they can on an island sanctuary. The chickens have built Each one of our favorite characters are off doing their own thing. Fowler is still telling his military stories, but this time to a bunch of chicks who are eager to listen to tales of action and bravery. The old rooster is telling them the story of the flock's escape from the Tweedy's farm. Some people say that these chicks are Ginger and Rocky's, but our young lovers just got together so they're not ready for kids yet. Personally I'd like to believe that these chicks belong to other hens on the island. The island was already a bird sanctuary so there must have been other hens who had children or were having children. Bunty is pushing Babs on a makeshift swing while the dense hen is still happily knitting away. Babs is oblivious that they're finally free; she thinks they're on holiday and will be going back to the farm soon. Bunty just lets her have this one. Oh, brother 😏. Mac is teaching another group of chicks about physics and engineering using her makeshift catapult as a demonstration. The chicks are fascinated with this lesson or at least wanting to try to be flung like one chick was during the demonstration for fun. Nick and Fetcher are enjoying their time, doing their own thing. Somewhere along their conversation about starting their own chicken farm, they bring up the whole chicken-and-egg situation.

But best of all, Ginger is on top of the hill overlooking their new home, a village meant just for the chickens far away from the dangers of humans. Rocky comes up beside her, charmingly asking if their new home and the feel of the soft, cool green grass is everything she ever imagined. Ginger replies that it is not, shocking Rocky a bit. He seems a little disappointed at this. However, our pretty hen was only teasing him because then she does something really sweet. She then hugs her handsome new boyfriend, telling him that it's better than she imagined. Rocky, in return, smiles and lovingly hugs his beautiful new girlfriend back. He gives out a little chuckle and she gently sighs, both thinking that life will never get better than this. Just wait until the sequel, then it will 😉. Rocky and Ginger look down upon their village full of their happy fine feathered friends during this sweet hug like the new leaders they are, much like a king and queen surveying their kingdom. Our beautiful couple then walk down the hill hand in hand so Ginger can teach Rocky how to play cricket. The official start of their new romantic relationship. Long live Rocky and Ginger! 💘

And there we have it, a happy ending for our fine feathered friends and the start of the romantic relationship between our handsome rooster Rocky and our beautiful hen Ginger. The Tweedys have been defeated, the farm and pie machine have both been destroyed, and the chickens have finally obtained their long-awaited freedom. They have even found a bird sanctuary on an island in the middle of a tranquil lake. There were no farmers, no dogs, no huts, no coops, no keys and best of all, no fences. The chickens could now live their best lives however they want, without any worries whatsoever.

But the best part of all this is that Rocky and Ginger are finally together. Their beautiful love story had started with them disliking each other to liking each other to becoming friends to falling in love. And now comes the happy ending - them becoming an official couple, starting with having their first kiss. At the beginning, Ginger was held prisoner on a chicken farm and Rocky was free from the circus. But after a crazy adventure with a touch of romance, Rocky and Ginger are now both free and have found a new home for not only their friends, but for themselves as well. Best of all, they both had someone special to share their home and lives together. True happiness comes from sharing your life with someone who will love you for who you are, no matter what. We may think their story will end right there, but next week we will see it continue in a whole new adventure - marriage and parenthood. Let's hope they can survive whatever life throws at them in the sequel. ❤️💖💓💞

Anyway this is my twelfth and final weekly Rocky/Ginger moment post commemorating the upcoming sequel to Chicken Run. I hope you have enjoyed all these posts. There will be another special post about the sequel to celebrate the big day. There also will be another post within the next few days as a special treat. Waiting for this long-awaited sequel hasn't been very easy but these posts have made it easier as the release date got closer. But now the wait is almost over!!!!

#chicken run #chicken run 2 #chicken run dawn of the nugget #dawn of the nugget #ginger and rocky #rocky and ginger #rocky #ginger #countdown

16 notes · View notes

nabtime · 9 months

Text

Our Empty Graves XIV

Fandom: Danny Phantom / Batman: Under the Red Hood

Pairings: Danny Fenton/Jason Todd (Dead on Main)

Rating: Mature

Tags: batfamily, hazmat AU, Nobody Knows AU, Mute!Phantom, potential ghost king danny, slow burn?, DC means Disregard Canon, AU means AU nothing is exactly the same, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, more than canon typical violence, danny is a Halfa and also a Fetch, no beta we die like basically everyone

Summary: They say that Red Hood has a loyal mutt. The man rules his territory in Crime Alley with an iron fist and a guard dog at his side. They say that Hood calls him Fetch, sometimes Fetcher. No one's ever heard him speak. Anyone who's ever seen him says he looks like an experiment gone wrong, that Hood picked him up somewhere unspeakable. They say he'll do anything Red Hood asks of him and he'll do it well. That he's strong and fast and probably inhuman. The girls say he's sweet; quiet but charming in his own way. Rival gangs say he's vicious; that he'd sooner rip your throat out than let you go.

Jason just wants to help him.

Chapter 14: i wanna build my house inside your heart (and make you love your scars)

Chapter Summary: Bruce isn't happy with his research, Danny has a crisis over hands, and Tim is determined to help despite the consequences.

Chapter Notes: title from Bravado by Yoke Lore // Betaed by Garden from the BatPham server!! Links: AO3 // Chapter 1 // Chapter 13 // Chapter 15 // Spotify // Art!

Bruce went over the research again. And again and again. He was hoping he’d find something different after the sixteenth read through, but it never changed. What Tim found… he didn’t like it.

He’d been antsy this past week. Terrified about what it meant that Red Hood hadn’t been seen on the streets since the explosion at the docks. The explosion that Bruce had seen his son previous Robin horrifically injured by. That he’d been too late to rescue him from. Again. The one where he’d seen an Unknown, the one Jason worked with, standing at the edge and watching the flames.

So he dove into the research Tim had been able to dig up from the Drs. Fenton and tried to ignore everything else. Tried to ignore the guilt at leaving Tim alone to his own devices in the mean time when he’d only just returned from the Titans. Tried to ignore the admonishing looks Alfred sent him every additional day he stayed holed up in the Cave. Instead he sunk deeper and deeper into a haze of reading paper after paper, and rereading paper after paper. And, what little of it he could find in the first place, was all pointing in a direction he hated.

The Fentons… were odd scientists. To say the least. And he really was saying the least. But their research, without an outside source to better verify it, was sound. Thorough. Horrifying.

Ghosts, or ectoplasmic entities, were non-sentient. Non-sapient. They were impressions of emotions left after death. Unfeeling. Unthinking. Driven by nothing but the deceased’s final thoughts and emotions. Often violent ones. Thoughts of revenge, of regret, of nothing but the pain surrounding their death.

Monsters seeking nothing but to spread the pain that had been imprinted upon them. And territorial. If both Fetcher and Jason were nothing but ghosts, did that make the fire a fight for the right to haunt Park Row? A dispute that- that Jason lost?

He knew they could be harmed. Could be hunted. That much the Fenton’s research made clear. They could be captured and studied and released back into some vague mention of a Ghost Zone. Supposedly the place where they originated.

That part wasn’t very clear. They spoke of ripping a tear in the fabric of the universe, of punching a hole into some flipside dimension that was something of an Afterlife. They seemed to hinge all their research on it. What they called the Ghost Portal. There was no record of it existing, no patent for its schematics. No proof that they’d succeeded. Yet, a chunk of their research acted as they had. As if it went without saying that the “ghosts” they studied emerged from the portal they’d successfully built.

Like they’d scrubbed that particular piece of research from existence. A lot of it was struck through. Much of it was missing. There were holes everywhere.

It didn’t help that after a certain point, it all disappeared. What he could find himself had to be recovered from deleted files. And then there was no trace of anything . It all just cut off. Abruptly and coincidentally in line with their signing on with an unknown government agency.

Dr. Maddie Fenton’s last published paper- one that had been erased, mind you- had been about their study of a smaller blob of a ghost. What happened when they cut into it, what happened when they brought it from inside the Zone to out (and that in itself was curious, did they have a lab inside the Zone?), and what happened when they injected it with different forms of ectoplasm. She’d made notes to indicate they planned to do more but that had been the last piece of research. Months ago. He’d been unable to find anything else after they signed with the mysterious GIW.

He’d gone back, then.

They had papers from college, barely acknowledged and never published. Papers they turned in in tandem with one Vladimir Masters, of all people. His school records at the University- disappeared after a certain point. He didn’t graduate early. He didn’t transfer. He didn’t withdraw. There were mentions of something, or more, the shape around that something. Records of the school repairing the classroom the three had done most of their research in. Vague condolences in the school paper. Professors continually marking Masters absent after a certain point in the semester but never docking points for it. But nothing further. No hospital records. No information on what happened; what caused the classroom to need repairs and what caused Masters’ continued absence.

His best guess was an experiment gone wrong. But he didn’t know.

The amount of things he didn’t know with this case was driving him to the brink. It was giving him hives.

He couldn’t find record of where the Fentons lived. He knew they lived in a town named Amity Park, they’d mentioned the place often enough in their research- touting it to be the most haunted town in America. But he couldn’t find it. No map could place it. No government database had it cataloged. No post office had an address for it.

Amity Park didn’t exist. Older maps, scanned in and therefore not originally digital, placed it somewhere in Illinois. So it did exist. Theoretically. Elmerton, supposedly its sister city, refused to acknowledge it, despite the fact that half of Elmerton itself had been blown off the map- everything going up in flames if it was anywhere in the radius of what was supposed to be Amity. Social media made no mention of it.

He looked into the GIW instead. And found nothing of use. He was a fair hand at hacking, but not near the level of Tim or Barbara. He loathed the thought of asking either of them for help on this, but he couldn’t crack their codes, could barely even find them at all. Their firewall was like nothing he’d ever seen before. Maybe it would make a good distraction for Tim. All he found on his own were a few vague mentions of an Anti-Ecto Act. A warning about an entity at large but with no description.

There was something more going on here. Something he very much didn’t like. But it would have to wait. He’d have to see the town in person at some point, maybe let Tim or Dick investigate. Dick had been pestering him about what was going on recently, maybe he could distract him with this. It would take him out of town and Bruce could even convince him to take Tim with him. That way he’d be alone for what was going to have to happen next.

They didn’t need to be here in Gotham when he went after Jason. Or, the thing that was what was left of Jason.

His ghost.

The mindless, twisted version of his second Robin- hellbent on revenge against the one that killed him and the one that failed to save him.

It would explain how he came back when even Ra’s didn’t know for sure. And if he’d had a dip in the Lazarus Pit it would explain even more. He knew from the research that ghosts could be tangible, frighteningly solid and destructive. And he suspected from the descriptions of ectoplasm that Lazarus Water was just another form of it. Making him stronger. The twisted after-shocks of the emotions he’d died with stronger. What Ra’s had brought back wasn’t Jason. Just a ghost- but worse.

It made Bruce feel entirely guilty. And sick. He’d only just accepted that Jason had returned. That he was alive. That he hated, rightfully hated, Bruce for what happened. But now? Jason might not be back at all and he’d have to learn to accept that all over again. Grieve all over again. Bury him all over again.

(He had yet to check the coffin. Yet to check the grave. If he’d had the thought to look inside, he might have changed his mind about it all at finding it empty.)

═════ ◈ ═════

Danny shifted nervously, acutely aware of how he balanced on Hood’s thighs ( and man, did he have thighs for days ), and waited for some sort of reaction. He was unsure as it was about being able to heal Hood’s hands, he didn’t need anxiety about the man’s reaction on top of it all. He’d offered because he couldn’t stand to see the look of resignation, of helplessness, of pain on Red’s face when he talked about them. Like he thought their loss was inevitable. Like he thought it was his own fault they’d taken so much damage- that losing them, their function, was his punishment. Like he wanted to forget the pain of gaining those wounds altogether, the fear and desperation surrounding their creation, but kept pressing on the bruises anyway because that’s what he thought he deserved.

And Danny couldn’t stand to allow that look on his face remain for a second longer. His own hands were frigid and monstrous and soaked in blood. The hands of a dead man- brittle and cold and far too clumsy for something as sacred as healing. But they were all he had and damn if he wasn’t going to use them for Hood- to hold something gently for once.

The problem here was that he had… made a pretty bold claim. Saying he could fix Red’s hands.

There wasn’t a guarantee that manipulating his organic ectoplasm into becoming the regenerative type- assuming he could even manage that outside of the ecto-rich environment of Amity- and applying it to his hands in order to boost the healing process would work. It might not even do anything. Or it might just backfire. But… Hood was also some sort of ectocontaminated undead being- far more human than Danny would ever manage to be, sure- but still a guy that had ectoplasm running through him, which meant far better chances at absorbing the Good Goo. Yes, sure, the ectoplasm was some weird rancid variation of the combative stuff that he really needed to figure out how to fix, too.

But still.

He’d managed with the people of Amity, he could manage with Hood. It didn’t matter that these were completely different situations. Didn’t matter that the artificial liminals of Amity Park had been contaminated with pure ectoplasm. That when he’d healed them it was usually on instinct, sloppy and desperate, and usually with the regenerative ecto already on hand from his own wounds. Didn’t matter that he didn’t have the first clue on how the poisoned ectoplasm within Red would react to the healing. All that mattered was that Red had just looked so damn sad about it all and Danny had something that could help. So he would. He’d do anything.

Hood still hadn’t said anything.

He lowered the board, erased it, and started writing anew.

I don’t know if it’ll work. It might even make them worse. But there’s a chance- a small one- that I can patch them up. I don’t know what I’m doing here though so it’s pretty risky.

He flipped it over and waited again. He watched Hood’s eyes trace along the words, reading them agonizingly slowly. His turquoise stare was intense when his eyes flicked up and met Danny’s own.

Red leaned forward, intent, and said, “Do it.”

Danny huffed soundlessly in disbelief. He whacked Hood in the chest lightly with the whiteboard and then tapped at his own temple and made a sharp, sweeping gesture with his palm up. Think about it first, idiot.

“I don’t have to think about it!” Hood insisted forcefully before his tone turned plaintive. “Fetcher, Spooks, Jellyfish- you don’t understand. I don’t care about the risks. Hell, I don’t care if you fail- but if there’s a chance that you can fix my hands; fix them now- I’m going to take it.”

Danny sat the whiteboard between them for the moment and crossed his arms, regarding the pleading face of his boss, friend, savior . He hadn’t expected a reaction as... vehement as this. He’d expected skepticism. Expected a careful measure of consideration, suspicion even. Or… honestly, a flat out rejection. Not… this.

“I need to get back out there, Jelly,” Hood whispered, leaning in so their noses were inches apart and Danny could see the intensity in his eyes up close. “I need to help my people. Save the Alley. I-,” he paused and looked away, a bitterness showing in his gritted teeth. “I have to get back to my plan. I can’t do that without my hands. Not without taking too much time. The people of the Alley don’t have the luxury of waiting for me to relearn everything from scratch. Black Mask is getting bold. Messing with kryptonite . I need to know what he plans to do with it. I need to get back out there now .”

Danny did not like the desperation there. The slightly frenzied gleam to his eyes. He could also tell that there was something unspoken underneath his words. That there was something more to this “plan” that Hood wasn’t telling him. Something, probably, that had to do with why he got his hands butchered in the first place. I have to strike now, he could almost hear, they already know who I am and I can’t wait any longer when the answers I need are so close. Red was thinking so hard it felt like he was projecting them into the little air between them.

Danny, already thinking this was a bad idea, grew more uncertain. This felt reckless, too rash in respect to Red’s health. Like they were playing with fire and Hood almost wanted to get burned.

But he couldn’t go back on it now. Couldn’t stand to see Hood disappointed in him, in his hands, in himself. Couldn’t endure seeing Hood in so much pain again.

His shoulders sagged in a soundless sigh. He straightened his back and gave a determined nod. He would do this. For Red. And just pray to whatever Ancients were feeling merciful right then.

Gently, he held the other man’s hands between them, slowly unwinding them from their bandages. He’d helped change them before, the motion soothing and familiar. Something about the ritual of it all both mundane and divine. Watching as white fabric revealed mottled flesh. Bruises and lacerations breathing in fresh air again. He watched them shake- ever so slightly- as he traced with a feather-light touch along the crooked fingers, the dips and lines of the palms, the bony jut of the knuckles. He bent his head and placed a reverent kiss- the barest brush of lips against skin, to a bruise that painted the meat of his thumb a dark yellow-brown. Hood watched, gaze fixed, remaining silent the entire time save for a single hitched breath.

Carefully, he lowered those precious hands and then leaned back for some space ( neither one of them saying anything about the fact that he hadn’t moved from Red’s lap this entire time ) before reaching into his chest and pulling out a knife. A special knife. An athame magicked to rend through spectral flesh. Which is why he kept it sheathed in its protective case and hidden nice and safe in his chest. Didn’t need any assholes getting hold of it. It’d been a bitch and a half to wrestle it away from Plasmius in the first place.

“Why the fuck do you have that in there?” Hood questioned, words spilling out of his mouth and looking surprised but unrepentant with them.

Danny shrugged, holding the knife aloft carelessly. Convenience. I have more.

“What-,” he sputtered, “How many do you have?! Where did you get them?! Are those from when we were patrolling? Have you been keeping them in there this whole time?!”

Danny flicked his wrist, waving off the man’s question, and used the incredulity as a distraction so Red wouldn’t stop him from what came next. To potentially heal Hood’s hands, he needed regenerative ectoplasm. The only way to get it without finding a way into the Realms, was to make it himself. He couldn’t just do that on demand, though. He was sure there were some ghosts that had that ability out there, but he’d never met them and he was sure they probably wouldn’t be willing to share their methods with him.

So, knife time. Athame time. Whatever.

He sliced along his palm, a dull green blood rising to the surface. He pulled a rag from his chest as well, cursing himself for not thinking this through and grabbing it before this. He felt Red lurch under him, thighs bucking up in an aborted move to stop him.

“Fetch,” the other growled, tone a warning. “What the fuck.”

He rolled his eyes. The fact that Hood had stayed still after his knee-jerk reaction told him that the other had figured out what he was up to. The grumbling was just because he didn’t like the method or the execution. He shook his head a bit. Big baby.

He put the rag to his palm and let it soak up the initial flow. The darker green ecto was useless to him, it was just the stuff he was made of peeling away from itself because of the blade’s magic. It let the regenerative ectoplasm bubble up from beneath in order to try and heal the wound. He mopped it up and used the athame to hold the wound open, waiting for the color to turn. Once it was a vibrant, toxic green he dropped the rag and let the “ectoblood” drip and coat his hands.

He looked up and almost laughed at Red’s disgusted look. Yeah, it was pretty gross, but there wasn’t much of a better way to go about it. That he knew of, at least. He wiggled his fingers towards Red’s face mockingly and repressed a laugh at the other’s returning scowl.

“Don’t make it weird,” he said with a grumpy protest.

Danny rolled his eyes. In what world would this not be weird? They’re both undead and Danny has to bleed all over him. They’re beyond weird at that point.

He gave the other no warning before picking up Red’s hands and holding them between his own bloody ones. He really, really wished he knew a better way to do this. Wished he knew what he was doing at all in the first place. But this was as good as it got, fumbling around in the dark and just praying anything would work.

He held Red’s hands as gently as possible while still making sure his ectoblood coated all of his injuries, his bruises and breaks. He would envelop the other in everything he had, surround him with his soul and sooth away all of his aches and pains.

He closed his eyes and concentrated, focusing on his core. He thought about healing, about mending, about soothing, and pouring his very being into fixing every break and every bruise. He could feel the ectoblood warm up under his fingers, glow brightening as it bent to his will. He could hear Hood hiss as it all seeped into his skin and dug into his bones, the heat of it intensifying as the ecto went to work.

It’d been a hell of a time learning how to do this for the Amity Parkers back home, especially when they would run and scream at the sight of him. Thankfully he hadn’t usually needed the athame to help, he was just already injured from one fight or another when he’d check on the bystanders. They hadn’t really liked it either when he’d bleed on them, but they always stopped screaming at him once their wounds sealed back up. He hadn’t even meant to do that the first time, he’d just been so panicked when he’d found Sam buried under rubble after an attack. He’d been freshly dead; his first year as Phantom. He didn’t think she even remembered what happened, but he did.

When his ectoplasm had sunk deeply enough into every part of Red’s broken hands, he could start to feel the extent of his injuries. The old breaks, the chronic damage, the new fractures and lacerations. And carefully, so carefully, he willed the ectoblood to stitch every one of them up.

He… struggled. More than usual.

He’d tried to heal someone without ecto-contamination once; an out-of-towner that’d been visiting family and had been caught up in an attack at the wrong time. Buried under rubble that most natives knew to avoid. They’d reacted a little bit like this. A rejection of the ectoplasm, where the human body recoiled and tried to destroy the foreign substance. Where it reacted so violently that the body started attacking itself in order to be rid of it. Their wound had already been fatal, his interference had at least made it quick. That didn’t stop him from feeling guilty afterwards, feeling the weight of their death on his shoulders and their blood and viscera on his hands.

Red’s body wasn’t reacting... quite so violently. But it wasn’t reacting like it should either. The ecto was oozing into his bones and binding the breaks together, but it wasn’t sticking, for lack of a better word. It was healing him, but it also wasn’t. Like wrapping a band-aid around a cut that needed stitches. Better than nothing and not necessarily useless, but not enough to fix it completely either. Something was stopping it from doing its job. Like there was a layer of ectoplasm already there, fighting it off- not taking kindly to the foreign ecto-signature. Danny didn’t like that one bit. He didn’t even know where to begin to address that, let alone fix it.

The heat of the ecto was starting to become too much to handle, a sign that it had done all that it could. But Danny tried to push it just a little bit further. Just enough to maybe get it to hold.

He and Red both hissed when the ecto bubbled and burned them. Danny dropped his grip and immediately blew a cooling breath over Hood’s hands in order to get the temperature down and cement the ectoplasm in place. What he didn’t expect was for it to make a makeshift icy shell. That was new. He knew that if he concentrated he could make the cold of his ghost sense come forward, but it’d never done that before. He couldn’t complain, though, because this way it would keep all the ecto in until it could properly adhere and do its job.

“Huh,” Red said, staring down at his frost-encased hands, turning them this way and that and watching the dusky sunlight streaming in through the window glint off the thin layer of ice as he moved them.

Danny nodded, wiping down his own hands with the rag and mopping up any excess ectoplasm. He’d already irrevocably stained the couch so he wasn’t worried too much about dripping any on the upholstery, he just didn’t want to leave a mess. He skimmed the rag over the cut he’d made on his palm, the wound already stitching itself together now that he was done using his ectoblood to heal. He didn’t really understand how it worked, but he knew, instinctively, that ectoplasm was ruled by feeling and intention . So if he was willing the cut to stay open and using his blood to heal, the ectoplasm would obey. Most of the time. It wasn’t an exact science, by any means.

He watched Red warily, hoping the man knew better than to immediately try to use his hands for anything while they still had the ice around them. He didn’t have much faith in that. Red had a horrible track record for recklessness.

He slumped his shoulders in a small and silent sigh and pulled out his whiteboard again. Better make sure Red knew what he was dealing with. That, while he’d pieced him back together- he could still fall right back apart. That Danny might have just failed him after all if it turns out the ecto didn’t stick. He felt a terrible lurch of guilt at the thought.

They’re still really fragile. Don’t push too hard. Something was wrong when I tried to heal them and I think it might be the Bad Goo you have going on. What I did might be temporary.

He watched, squirming, as Hood read over the words, waiting for the anger that was sure to follow when he realized that Danny had lied to him. Danny had told Hood that he could fix his hands, that he could absolutely heal him. And he’d failed. Sure, the bones might still stick together and he might have managed to actually do something there. But it wasn’t enough. It was half-assed and slipshod. Just like everything else he’d tried to accomplish in his life. Imperfect to the point of catastrophe. He might have even ruined any progress his hands may have naturally had.

At this point, if Red lost the use of his hands after this, it would be all his fault .

“Fetcher,” Hood whispered, voice full of an awe that made Danny flinch. He startled at the cold feeling of ice against his skin as Hood gently cupped his cheeks and tilted his head up so their gazes could meet. “ Thank you. ”

He keened, the sound emanating from deep within his core; a small and pathetic sound. Hood grinned at him but he backed away, swaying back from his reach and getting perilously close to falling off the other’s lap. He picked up the whiteboard again. Red didn’t understand. He didn’t deserve his thanks. Didn’t deserve any sort of awe. He needed to make him understand.

It didn’t work like it should have! If you break them again the damage might be worse! Don’t thank me for fucking up!

He was near to tears when he flipped the board over.

“Jellyfish,” Hood said sternly, the sharp tone making Danny flinch again. “If I break my hands again, that’s on me . Not you. You told me from the beginning it could backfire.”

The frost on Hood’s hands was beginning to melt, allowing him to flex his fingers and clasp Danny’s chin with a better grip, tugging him back towards the inferno that was Red’s chest. He planted his hands against Red’s pecs ( and he would not think about that ) in an effort to keep some distance between them and from just melting against him. He felt far too guilty for cuddles. No matter how much he really, really wanted them.

Hood sighed, releasing Danny’s chin when he refused to make eye-contact- instead staring at the whiteboard that was resting on his thighs.

“You and I both know that the damage done to me was extreme,” he said, voice measured and tired and Danny still refused to look up. “That if something went wrong with my recovery, I might have needed to have one or both of my hands amputated.” Danny winced, but he kept going. “Especially since I can’t see a specialist. I don’t care that you couldn’t heal them all the way, the fact that you were able to do anything for them at all is a miracle to me.”

He finally looked up, making tentative eye contact and getting caught by the look of conviction on Hood’s face. He really thought that Danny had done something profoundly good for him. That he hadn’t just fucked up his hands monumentally. He looked at them where they laid on Danny’s thighs, holding him in place with a gentle grip.

They were still mottled with bruises, yellow and deep purple splashed in contrast to tan skin turned sickly pale from being covered for so long. Angry red scars stretched across their surface in jagged lines, crisscrossing each other with no rhyme or reason. He could feel them shaking, ever so slightly. They were still broken, still fragile. But they were also still there. Still functional. Still whole.

Danny, reluctantly, gave in. He knew how stubborn Red was. There would be no convincing him otherwise about Danny’s mistakes.

He let his shoulders drop and gave in to the warmth that was beneath his fingertips, head curling into the now familiar crook of Red’s neck. At least this way he wouldn’t feel so guilty about not being able to face him fully.

Chilled fingers carefully wound themselves within his hair, gently threading through the foggy mass that was slowly growing past his shoulders. He was trying his damnedest to repress a purr at the feeling. Why the hell were ghosts so much like cats in the first place? It didn’t make any sense at all and he resented the purr that was building in his core without his permission. He hated how easily it gave him away.

“I’ll take another week,” Hood murmured, voice a pleasant rumble Danny could feel more than hear with how he was pressed against the other’s throat. “I’ll stay in and be careful with my hands for another week. And then I’ll be extra careful with them when it’s back to business, okay? Does that sound alright to you, Ghost Doc?”

He huffed and gave a small nod, lightly pushing at Red’s shoulders at the same time. He shuffled around and maneuvered the both of them, Hood just bemusedly going along with his manhandling, until they were lounging back on the couch again. He didn’t want to think about it anymore, didn’t want to feel about it anymore either. A nap was what he wanted; to sink into blissful unconsciousness, and if it meant cuddling on the couch with Red? So be it.

He could feel the slight shake of a laugh in Hood’s chest once they’d fully settled. “If you wanted to sleep with me that badly, Fetch, you could have just asked.”

Danny lazily brushed an intangible hand through Hood’s stomach and relished in the startled yelp it elicited.

Asshole.

═════ ◈ ═════

Something was bothering Bruce about the case, the one that Tim wasn’t allowed to look at. He knew this because Bruce kept looking for something, looking so relentlessly that he didn’t notice the times that Tim would sneak down to the cave to check on him. It’d been another week. Two weeks since he’d come back from confronting Ra’s and two weeks since Tim had shown him the similarities in hazmat suits.

And he knew that his case with Fetcher was connected with Bruce’s case with Red Hood. Fetcher and Red Hood worked together. But this seemed… worse. More intricately entwined. Bruce, who had offloaded the Fetcher case to Tim in the first place, took over both and booted him from the cave.

Not that that would stop him. Never had before.

No, Tim was going to help whether Bruce liked it or not. It’d been hell and back to get Alfred to agree, but he’d come up with a plan to get B out of the cave and himself down in it so he could get a closer look at the Bat-computer. Alfred was all for anything that would get B to take a nap for once in his life, he just didn’t like that Tim was going behind B’s back.

But Tim was determined.

He was going to find whatever the hell B was looking for and he was going to prove his worth again. If Jason was back- if one of the Robins that he’d looked up to so much was back- the one that he’d replaced… He’d have all that much more to prove. To show both Bruce and his predecessor that he was capable. Bruce had barely acknowledged him when he’d gotten back and he knew Jason wasn’t likely to even care who he was, let alone how good at his job he was. But Tim wasn’t one for complacency either, even when no one else paid any attention. That wasn’t anything new, anyway.

So. Tim drugged Bruce’s cookies.

B trusted Alfred, and usually he would be right to trust Alfred. But he should know not to underestimate Tim. Or Alfred when he was really truly worried about B. So, with Alfred’s supervision- if not express permission, he drugged the cookies. And Bruce took a nap.

He was going to be pissed when he woke up, but Tim was hoping to temper his ire by finding stuff and solving part of his case for him. Also, it’s not like Tim was doing anything new, not when Bruce had pulled the same drugged cookie trick on Tim. Multiple times. So, really, Tim was just using the lessons Bruce had taught him. Turnabout was fair play or whatever the hell. Tim may or may not have needed a nap himself.

So after shoving B onto the couch they kept in the cave specifically for situations like this, he cracked his knuckles and got to work.

And fuck was it work. After finding what Bruce had been toiling over the most, going back to over and over and over again, he hit the same wall that must have been driving B insane. He didn’t know who the hell the GIW were, but their firewall was like nothing else he’d ever seen. It was like it was alive . At least he knew why Bruce was so frustrated now, if whatever he was looking for was locked behind it, he’d be pissed too.

If Tim didn’t know that Bruce was going to be out for a solid twelve hours, he’d be worried. Fighting the firewall of some unknown government agency (if they were even actually with the government) was not what Tim thought would be one of the hardest won achievements of his career as Robin, and yet. It didn’t work the way code was supposed to work. It moved and shifted in a way that it most definitely should not.

At one point he could swear it growled at him.

Numbers would change value right before his eyes. The line of code he was working on would disappear. The more he worked the less it made sense. He thought he would have to give up (but he couldn’t, he couldn’t ) before it all snapped into place. The code suddenly seemed less like a wall and more like a cage. He couldn’t explain how he knew this when nothing had actually changed while he hacked, but he did. The growling grew in volume, like a guard dog snapping warning bites. And the more he worked, the more he realized- whatever was protecting the database wasn’t just protecting it. The servers the GIW worked on- they were insulated. Isolated.

Whatever caged the GIW database grew more frantic the more he dug in. Working faster to patch what holes he poked rather than attack him and kick him out. Like it was worried more about what was inside getting out , than him finding his way in.

It took him ten hours. And he could swear he heard screaming when he finally broke through.

The heavy weight of an admonishing hand on his shoulder let him know his time was up in that regard as well. But he’d gotten through at least. Even if he felt sick in the aftermath of it all (that scream).

Bruce didn’t say anything, just stared up at the files upon files now available for them to rifle through. Gently, he pushed Tim out of the chair and took a seat himself, pausing only long enough to give Tim a hair ruffle- the only sign of affection or acknowledgment he’d gotten from Batman lately, before setting to work and clicking away.

Tim- Tim left the cave without another word, feeling oddly guilty and bereft. He couldn't figure out why.

#naps fics #dp x dc #Our Empty Graves #im going back and fixing all the broken links i promise #dpxdc

28 notes · View notes

strawberrybabydog · 3 months

Note

hi babydog! i hope you’re well. my question is two fold, firstly, i think i’m endelic (i think that’s how i would say that) but how can i figure out what animal i am? i feel nonhuman but i’ve suppressed it for so long that i’m not sure where to begin unsuppressing it. u appreciate any advice you have for me!

+1 treat

sometimes you're not an animal. sometimes you're a concept, or a shapeshifter, something mythical, something new ^_^

i'd say write down a lot of the things you're thinking/feeling about it and you might be able to back-track. for example, if you have an urge to chase a frisbee, write that down and eventually you can look up which dog breeds are the best fetchers. or maybe you think about it more and it isn't a frisbee, and you actually want to chase giant meteors across the galaxy. well that isnt a dog! even small information such as "well, i know i'm definitely NOT a horse!" can be very meaningful

the most important thing for you to remember right now is there's no time limit for self discovery and growth. give yourself time and space to explore these things without putting pressure on yourself to get the right answer. right now, your answer seems to be "animalistic endel." and that is more than fine to be right now (or forever) because you still have a place in the endel community :0)

also, more advice, don't hold yourself to other people's advice [including me]. identity AND delusions are both hyper-personal experiences and what works for one person wont work for another. if you hate writing things down, go a different route! it's important to do what works best, what feels best, to you!

#asks #endel #other alterhumans welcome to add advice plz i feel like im terrible at this <3 so sorry if this sucks anon LOL #alterhuman

6 notes · View notes

lyon-amore · 8 months

Text

Katherine, Jake's recent partner, has disappeared after that he left her at her house the night before. Not only will the accusations of his kidnapping fall on him, but also on his friend Albert, who is accused after the girl he dated was found murdered and was missing five days ago, from Katherine's roommate and friend, Bianca Fetcher.

One day, he receives a mysterious video of the girl, scared and injured, along with the message "Do you want to participate in her final destiny?" With fear, Jake gets involved in the investigation to find Katherine along with the help of a mysterious girl who seems to be the investigations the problem? That girl is nothing more than a teenager.

Before reading

꧁☬Chapters☬꧂

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Jake's Notes 1

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Jake's Notes 2

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Jake's Notes 3

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Epilogue

#duskwood #duskwood jake #duskwood mc #duskwood everbyte #duskwood game #everbyte studio #everbyte game #duskwood fanfic

7 notes · View notes

alex-isawsm · 1 year

Text

I like star fetchers for the P[retty women]lot

This is like a month old cause I hadn’t realized that I didn’t post it to my tumblr already… sorry girllikers . She’s from the Halloween QnA / gameplay showcase over on YouTube !! Can’t wait to see her in episode 1

#screenshot redraw #star fetchers #star fetchers fanart #my art

12 notes · View notes

theoddartist22 · 10 months

Text

(oleon comic page 1) I want to share my art and ideas! this is a fantasy /sic -fi story that I had in mind this in volves kingdoms and hi-tech stuff and powers that involve creativity and different and unique fetchers with the body! The plot will will be more seen in the continuing of the pages that follow in the future. NOTE : there are different kingdoms.. there are 45 kingdoms in the story 10 will only be important!!!!! there will be new characters later on in the story and back story of the characters that you know or will get to know!!! There will be conflict later and what they are going against. there will be a villain.

SORRY IT THERE ARE

-misspelling/BAD grammar

WHAT WILL BE IN SUME OF THE PAGES

(comity/ bad jokes) :,>/ sad times/ death/ actions scenes/ possible cursing?

#comics #my comic #animaticstyle #hi-tech #fantasy #fantasy world #sic-fi #powers #creativity

2 notes · View notes

fortnite-ao3feed · 1 year

Text

hi guys

by LatteOfEmeraldTown

Words: 58, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Sanders Sides (Web Series), LEGO Monkie Kid, South Park, 原神 | Genshin Impact (Video Game), SpongeBob SquarePants (Cartoon), The Lorax (2012), lofi hip hop radio; beats to relax/study to - ChilledCow (Music Videos), Undertale (Video Game), Minecraft (Video Game), Roblox (Video Game), Deltarune (Video Game), Fortnite (Video Game), Country Humans - Fandom, Super Mario & Related Fandoms, Gacha World (Video Game), Gacha Life (Video Game), Ed Sheeran (Musician), Boy Meets World, วัยรุ่นวุ่นYรัก | Gen Y: The Series (TV 2020), Once and Future King Series - T. H. White, Herbert West - Reanimator - H. P. Lovecraft, Mrs Frisby and the Rats of NIMH - Robert C. O'Brien, Batman - All Media Types, The LEGO Movie (2014), Lego Ninjago, The LEGO Ninjago Movie (2017), Batman (Movies - Nolan), balls - Fandom, UniKitty! (Cartoon), Nyan~ Neko Sugar Girls, Venom (Marvel Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spice Girls, The Beatles (Band), Teen Titans (Animated Series), Teen Wolf (TV), Raising Dion (Short Film)

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death

Categories: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Other

Characters: ice spice - Character, SpongeBob SquarePants, Qi Xiaotian | MK, Shego (Kim Possible), Nicki Minaj, Cardi B (Musician), Benito Ocasio | Bad Bunny, Walter White, Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, Clawdeen Wolf, Frankie "The Enforcer" Stecchino, Eren Yeager, Mikasa Ackerman, Eric Cartman, Percy Butter, Tom Hollander, Harry Styles, Ed Sheeran, Blue Diamond (Steven Universe), Jake (Subway Surfers), Satan | Lucifer (Satan and Me), Macadamia (SpongeBob), Nick Sturniolo, Matt Sturniolo, Chris Sturniolo, Sandy Cheeks, Barack Obama, Donald Trump, Sex Doll of Donald Trump, Joe Biden, Sleepy Gary (Rick and Morty), Panda (We Bare Bears), Darwin, Girly Teengirl (SpongeBob), Glamrock Freddy (Five Nights at Freddy's), Fetcher (Chicken Run), Aiden | Chicken Little

source https://archiveofourown.org/works/46808260

#fortnite #fortnite battle royale #fnbr

3 notes · View notes

obigem · 1 year

Text

"We're not making flirty eyes." Andrea flushed.

"It's OK, babe, I don't mind being clocked for making flirty eyes at you."

"Cam, stop it!" Dre protested, playfully.

"Ya know, normally this would gross me out, but I'm just glad you two are back together." Mimi smiled.

"Speaking of which, Mimi, we should probably tell you. Cam and I are planning on renewing our vows."

"Wow, really? Congrats!"

"Yeah, and if you could, we'd love for you to come. It'll be in Henford this weekend."

"I would, but I gotta cram from exams. But Mom could swing it."

#fletcher legacy gen 1 #ts4 #ts4 story #simblr #ts4 gameplay #ts4 legacy #ts4 legacy challenge #sims 4 legacy #sims 4 gameplay #Andrea Fletcher #Cameron Fletcher #Cordelia Fetcher #Mimi Pike

5 notes · View notes

dorky-zuko · 1 year

Note

“Honestly I could just keep going forever. If you want more just send me another ask.”

i heard there was a motion that needed seconding

A sequel to this post

okay, some more things I like include:

adventure time

westworld season 1 and 2 ONLY

Mission Impossible Movies

Star Fetchers

Over the Garden Wall (Ain't that Just the Way)

some Halos

I, Claudius

TAZ Balance (plus various MBMBAM properties)

Metroid Prime

Twilight Princess + Wind Waker are the best zeldas (fight me)

Scott Pilgrim

Futurama (classic)

His Dark Materials (NOT THE SHOW I ONLY READ THE BOOKS)

Disco Elysium

it used to be cool to like stranger things but it is NOT cool anymore

old spongebob

shrek 1 and 2

pokemon (various medias)

Undertale (hot take but that one game everyone went crazy about a few years ago was actually pretty good y'all, go figure)

WATERSHIP DOWN (BOOK) (ITS ABOUT BUNNIES)

Portal 1 and 2

I really like the HBO chernobyl show but it's weird to say that you're a "fan" of Chernobyl sooooooo

some anime is okay

ABC's TV show LOST is great and I'll fight people about it

Law and Order is copaganda but I was raised on SVU which is fucked up actually but there it is

Jeff Goldblum is a really funny guy

Nightcrawler is the best X-man

I don't really LOVE any of his games but I usually main Kirby in Smash so I can suck up people and then jump to my death and take them with me so that's something about me that you gotta know

But my most favorite thing of all is my FRIENDS (OKAY BARF SAPPY FEELINGS OVER NOW GOODBYE UGH)

#about me #dorky zuko post

3 notes · View notes

jesuscrab · 1 year

Text

played the new star fetchers episode 1 beta! even with updated visuals and art direction, new features, the game is still the same - very janky, but very fun. it was extremly buggy for me but still pretty great (exepct for the final boss it sucked)

2 notes · View notes

inventors-fair · 4 days

Text

The Art of Art: What works for contests?

Most of us are not visual artists—or at least I assume. What I also assume is that in the early days of card design, most new designers have visions for their cards but not the specific art to execute them. And so, we trawl the internet, put some "placeholder" art, and the cards rest in peace in our MSE folders from there on out.

In order to avoid any possibilities of uncredited art, fair use issues, etc., it still remains best practice to do everything as originally as possible. That does indeed include what art appears on a card. And yes, like I said, most of us aren't visual artists, but there are other approaches that will work best. For example:

1. Art Direction!

Here are two winning examples from previous contests, from @hiygamer and @starch255. A written scene can demonstrate the card in the same manner that art direction is given to the actual artists who create pieces for Wizards of the Coast. Clear action, simple direction, and a feeling for the mood are all that's needed to convey what you want.

The most important thing about art descriptions is to keep them brief and specific! If you can't clearly describe what's happening in the scene, then the jumbled elements feel disconnected from the card. If the art description is too detailed, then it can sometimes get in the way of the actual mechanics being judged.

One more thing to note is that, like in these examples, it's helpful to put the art description where the card's actual art would be. This way, anyone looking at your card can see what they're supposed to at first glance.

2. Sketches!

On the left, here's some previous contest art from @bread-into-toast, and on the right—art from me! You don't have to have access to much to draw the outline of what you'd like, and you can get across what you want to without worrying about judgement on that front.

Drawing your own pieces is both fun and functional. Once you have an idea of what you'd like, it doesn't matter what it looks like on paper, because it's entirely your own creation through and through. We can extrapolate even more about intent from it, and as Magic players, we know what truly professional/polished art looks like. Taking that imaginative step is easy and fun!

And yes, you have to credit the artist at all times, even when it's yourself. Who are you to deny your own greatness?

3. A combination of both?

@deg99 won the most recent contest with Bone Fetcher, and I won absolutely nothing with this old example card for a contest that I don't even remember what it was about. So let's look at Bone Fetcher instead. What does having both elements to for this card?

If just the dog and the skeleton were there, that would be wonderful, but then we'd miss out on the precise tone of the piece. With just the text, we'd get a good description, but the arm in the foreground shows the dramatic tilt of the camera that I'm assuming Deg intended here. You get the best of both worlds!

And sometimes one or the other is good enough. Which is fine! Maybe a little art direction can help with a rough sketch, maybe it can assume some positioning for you, etc.

I'll say this: there was one piece I can't find where a bunch of stick figures were placed around a crude torch, and the art description turned those little MS Paint dudes into a dramatic, heartfelt scene that still jars me even to this day. I've almost cried at the depiction of a ghost-laded squiggle-guy whose card told a full story about his impending death.

We don't need a massive budget to make the cards come alive visually. Words and sketches are all that we require, and it helps to ensure that you follow the best ethical practices for your cards. Don't like the MSE backgrounds? Zoom in on a piece until you only see pixels, or use a solid color! Don't have a steady hand? Show us the unsteady vision! There are many options available, and we accept all of them, just like we accept you.

@abelzumi

#mtg #magic the gathering #custom magic card #inventor's fair #monday blog

3 notes · View notes

the-great-elwisty · 2 years

Text

NWN2 cut content: The Rattlebag Inverted #11

In my last post, we met various characters who might have joined us at Crossroad Keep had not the jealous game development gods decreed otherwise. Zohan and Kralwok the Uthgardt, Iriana the Ruathym barbarian, Melia the unwilling assassin, and an astounding number of gnomes; someone at Obsidian must have been running a gnome-based D&D game. (“Go on, Feargus, just one more, I’ve got this mad cool gnome PC that loves experimenting with vampirism and beetroot-based cocktails!” "No, no more gnomes! Stop putting gnomes everywhere - aaargh!! )

And we’re still not finished. Well, we are finished with the gnomes you will be happy (?) to hear. But we still have more people to pack into Crossroad Keep.

ULFANG

Ulfang would have been a gruff but competent and reliable dwarf recruited from Clan Ironfist.

.........................................................................................................

Torio: The Ironfist Clan has recently moved back into their old clanhold in Old Owl Well, and one of them, Ulfang, I believe, has a talent for finding minerals and making use of them.

Khelgar: {Reluctantly agreeing} Ulfang does have a nose for precious metals. {Beat, suspicious} What, you think you're going to drag him here?

Torio: If you are in need of armor or weapon upgrades, or if you need someone to supply minerals and ore to your blacksmiths, I think Ulfang may be of use... although you may need your dwarven companion to persuade him.

.........................................................................................................

Sadly, neither the recruitment conversation nor Ulfang’s appearance are retrievable. The image at the top of this post shows Revorax, the smith at the reconquered Ironfist base.

Kana finds she can’t use Ulfang like a normal sergeant, but his talents emerge when he’s allowed to do his own thing:

Kana: {exasperated, but lighthearted} I've never dealt with a more stubborn dwarf. Ulfang told me in no uncertain terms that he refuses to recruit, train men, run patrols, or go on special assignments. Since he arrived, he's taken it upon himself to critically examine our defenses and survey our mining efforts.

Ulfang’s arrival:

Ulfang: And this is your Keep, eh? Looks like it had hard times not too long ago. {Gruff} Fair to middling work for humans. Still your Master Veedle seems a shrewd one.

And some more of Kana being stunned:

Kana: {uncertain} Ulfang has given me... a list of his recommendations for how to best utilize him. He is interested in hunting for minerals, smithing weapons and armor, and helping to fortify our walls.

His confidence in his own abilities is justified. Edario’s really impressed by him:

Edario: {He's a bit awed by Ulfang} Ulfang came by and he said working together we could make some fine armor - better than anything I could ever make, that's for sure.

Assigned to smithing, he’s able to help Edario and Jacoby produce enchanted metal weapons and armour. (Naevan the druid would have made enchanted leather armour had he not been cut). This gives rise to a small quest –marked B priority – where you retrieve cinder coal for Ulfang from Mount Galardrym. As side quests go, it doesn’t feel like much of a loss. ‘Long live the Knight Captain of Crossroad Keep, shard-bearer, dragon-slayer, fetcher of slightly unusual fossil fuels!’ Uh, no.

...........................................................................................................................

TEELAH AND JAZREN

We’ve known Teelah for ages – well, since we gained access to the Merchant Quarter in Act 1. She’s the chatty dancer in The Moonstone Mask who wants to save money so that she can train in Waterdeep. After Ammon’s attack, when she’s feeling traumatised and less than keen on staying on, you can recruit her:

...........................................................................................................................

Teelah: I just... wanted to thank you. Nobody else tried anything to stop that madman, or to save the girls upstairs.

PC: I could use a dancer at my keep

Teelah: Milord/Milady, I'd be honored. Ophala won't mind, there's plenty of girls willing to dance at the Mask. Even in the common room.

...........................................................................................................................

Then at the Phoenix Tail – and this dialogue is in the toolset:

...........................................................................................................................

Teelah: | One-time only, if player previously met her | Oh... it's you! I hope you don't mind that I'm here. It's just that they were evacuating the city... and I didn't want to be a burden on Ophala or the other girls...

PC: | Good Response | It's all right. You're welcome to stay.

Teelah: Thank you, Captain! A year at the Mask, and I've learned to entertain almost any crowd, no matter their mood. Rustic jigs, elven interpretive dance, gnomish waltz...

Teelah: I even know a dwarven dance. It takes a false beard, though, and hardly any clothes. Well, you're supposed wear the beard in place of clothes, and twirl it about provocatively...

Teelah: Maybe... you shouldn't tell anyone that I know that dance, actually.

...........................................................................................................................

Apart from dwarven dances, she’s a cheerleader for your PC:

Teelah: |Post-Siege|Your name is on every singer's lips, Captain... the Hero of Crossroad Keep!

Ahem. Just of Crossroad Keep? We are saving the world here, you know!

So Teelah comes to dance in the Phoenix Tail Inn, and an unknown character, Jazren, apparently comes with her.

The above image isn’t a mock-up. I opened up the Phoenix Tail Inn in the toolset, and there they were. Teelah (blonde) is on the right; Jazren (dark-haired) is on the left.

Teelah’s in-game description:

This fine-featured Tethyrian woman throws her body into the dance with gusto. Whenever your eyes meet, she smiles at you briefly.

And a cut description from dialog.tlk:

Teelah is a pretty young woman who can always be found near her best friend Jazren.

Jazren’s dialog.tlk character description:

Jazren is a common presence in the Phoenix Tail Inn. She is very flirtatious and sometimes dances to amuse the soldiers. Because she spends so much time at the Inn, Sal jokes that he should start paying her.

Jazren has an earthier attitude than Teelah. Whoever she’s meant to be, she didn’t learn her stuff by sucking up to nobles and rich people at The Moonstone Mask. She’s got no substantial dialogue left, but her reactions to events do survive:

Last place I danced had a dirt floor, an' half the patrons were wanted men. I've learned so much from watching Teelah...

Me an' Teelah draw quite a crowd. The music helps, too.

The Keep is bustling, Captain. War or no war, Teelah and me are stayin' here.

King of Shadows, my arse. Doesn't even fight his own battles, does he?

It would be good to know more about her, but unfortunately I can’t find a trace of the dialogue where she introduces herself and explains why she’s hanging round in a castle with an ex-high-society dancer.

I don’t really get why Jazren and Teelah were cut. Joy, the aasamir sister of Light-of-the-Heavens, does come and dance in the Phoenix Tail, but she seems like a less interesting/relevant character to include. Teelah has a story: aspiring artist goes through horrible traumatic experience but bounces back with your PC’s help. Joy is so flat in comparison. (Seriously, one of her script prompts is “tinkling laugh”. Don’t you just want to throw a crocodile at her?)

It’s possible that one of the writers decided there was no way that Teelah would hang around in Crossroad Keep once Ammon arrives, but that seems unlikely given that no one else is allowed to bugger off to Waterdeep at the start of Act III. Besides, why miss the opportunity to add in some angry dialogue? That wouldn't be very Obsidian. My guess is that there was a small bug with Teelah and Jazren, and given the time pressures the devs decided that cutting the pair of them would be the quickest way to solve the problem.

That said, Joy is in the finished game. Was she written to replace Teelah and Jazren? But that would suggest that time pressures weren’t the reason for the cut. Hmm.

...........................................................................................................................

IVARR AND LORD GRANFEN

Build the church dedicated to Tyr instead of the Temple of the Sun Soul, and it comes with the dwarf priest Ivarr the Blessed. “Ivarr's eyes shine with wisdom and compassion. His strong devotion to Tyr has made him somewhat resemble the god.” In the playable game, he can give you a small quest. Well, not that small – it’s to kill the red dragon Tholapsyx, though since most PCs end up doing that anyway, it feels like a bit of a cheat.

However, another quest was meant to exist which you could only get from Ivarr. It would have been called ‘Justice’s Arm’.

...........................................................................................................................

Ivarr: There is one important matter you could attend to. {Warning that the explanation may take awhile} The goal is simple - the reasons may take some explanation.

PC: Tell me the full story.

Ivarr: During the Luskan War the enemy had... many advantages - golems, the Arcane Brotherhood, and siege equipment. But to make matters much worse - there was a highly placed {said with venom} traitor. His name was Lord Granfen - and he served with the Nine on the military council.

He was a general of no small skill. Why he turned traitor is not known, probably gold or greed. But he opened the northern gate and let the Luskans enter. Amidst this chaos - the Hero of Neverwinter managed to rally our forces. Granfen's betrayal was not discovered until after the war had ended.

Before he could be brought to justice he fled with men that were loyal to him. The church of Tyr has hunted this notorious criminal for years. Recently, we heard rumors that the King of Shadows wants to make a deal with him. This cannot happen. His head holds too many deadly secrets about Neverwinter's defenses. I've been tracking him for years - but I must stay here.

...........................................................................................................................

Ivarr appears to really despise Granfen. He works himself up into a fury over him, which is odd for a priest who’s on the more laid-back side of the spectrum.

Ivarr: He's in the Wood. Search for his men. Bring him here - dead or alive would serve in equal measure. The church of Tyr has placed a generous bounty on his head. And I will personally contribute more. {Each word pronounced with emphasis} He must be stopped!

Neverwinter does seem to have had a real profusion of aristocratic turncoats in the recent war. Lord Dalren, Lord Brennick and apparently this Granfen chap too.

At least we have a good idea why the quest was cut: he’s in Neverwinter Wood. As you may recall, a whole section of the game based around Neverwinter Wood was dropped. Granfen is probably a late-game casualty of the missing areas.

No dialogue survives from the PC’s confrontation with Granfen. However, based on Ivarr’s surviving dialogue, it’s clear that when you find him, Granfen claims he’s innocent. Then you can either let him go or kill him.

If you kill him, Ivarr’s happy about it and gives you an item from his reliquary in personal thanks. The item would have been something customised to the PC’s class.

If you let Granfen go, Ivarr is not a happy bunny.

...........................................................................................................................

Ivarr: {Excitement and hope} Do you bring word of Lord Granfen? Has he been dispatched?

PC: After talking with him, I'm not convinced he was guilty. I let him go.

Ivarr: {Outrage - then mad at himself shortly after} You what? But... But... Curse me for a fool, this is not the first time he's talked his way out of justice.

Ivarr: {Some derision} What man bound for the gallows confesses his guilt? The {like "jails"} gaols are filled with innocent men.

PC: And there's no possibility of his innocence?

Ivarr: {Knee-jerk reaction} None... {Beat, considers - he's honest enough to consider his own reaction} Well, perhaps a small one.{Admits - bitingly} Only the gods know for certain the guilt of any man - as their servants we just do our best. But there was a trial - many witnesses talked of his actions. Lord Nasher himself pronounced the sentence. {Pondering} Tell me - why did you spare him?

PC: | Major Law| He shouldn't be executed without a fair trial.

Ivarr: {Sighs} A worthy sentiment. {Slight doubt - convincing himself, "As fair as any trial could be at that time subtext"} His trial was fair, though.{A little weary - doubtful at the end} We are done with this matter then - hopefully the King of Shadows won't enlist him.

PC: Was this hunt personal?

Ivarr: {Truthful} Granfen's betrayal is personal to every man, woman, and child of Neverwinter. I spent years looking for him - trekking through the wilds for clues. I am a disciple of Tyr - and it pains us all that such a notorious criminal walked free.

...........................................................................................................................

It could have been a nice, knotty little quest. It offered plenty of scope for PC roleplay – apart from your unknown dialogue with Granfen, the surviving content shows that you can let him go and lie about it to Ivarr, let Granfen go out of compassion, let Granfen go because of a bribe, think Granfen’s innocent and kill him anyway etc. Plus, the companions could have got entertainingly worked up about it. (My guess is the Casavir, Grobnar, Monk! Khelgar and Elanee would have tended towards letting him go; Bishop, Ammon, Fighter!Khelgar, and Qara would be in favour of killing him; Sand and Zhjaeve would have demurred; the Construct’s opinion is sadly unknowable, and I’m not sure about Neeshka).

And to close this post and perhaps also the series, depending on whether I can dig up something about MotB, here are my top writers' notes to the voice actors. Yes, I'm sad and yes, I'm sure I would enjoy creating a longer list:

Neeshka, when the PC asks her about her background:

{She's actually pleased to be telling her miserable story, but the punchline is that she's going to list a bunch of terrible things and be excited by it} This is so exciting... wow, where to begin.

2. Ammon being himself: {Slight irritation, like a strict teacher - "don't point a gun at your sister, ever!"} One should never summon anything without purpose, especially from the Lower Planes.

3. Shandra meeting Kistrel:

{Horrified, but morbidly curious as stares at spider they just fed} It looks... happy. Gods, those fangs are huge. And it's... still got insect bits on them.

4. And bonus prompt from Qara’s plot:

Grobnar: {A spectral assassin has just appeared} Why, it looks like we have a visitor! Hello there!

5. And when it returns:

Grobnar: {A spectral assassin has just appeared, oblivious to danger} It's the same elemental as before! Why, it must be tracking our party so it can kill us - how fascinating!

Goodnight :)

#nwn2 #cut content #i want nwn3 #lobby for nwn2 enhanced edition

8 notes · View notes