#much emptier. the constant reminders and seeing what was once there and triggering it again and again and again ontop of ptsd and ocd...

[martyrbat]

ghosts - batman: haunted knight

[ID: A multi panel sequence of Bruce Wayne as a child on Halloween. He's dressed up in a Mask of Zorro costume and is excitedly running down the stairs while holding two swords, calling out for his mother happily. He tells her that he's ready to go trick or treating. Martha Wayne has her hand on his shoulder and is smiling as she tells him, “your costume looks great!” Bruce replies, “Thanks, I made it myself. Alfred sorta helped. Is dad home yet?” Martha draws her hand back hesitantly and says his name. Bruce already knows that that means there's bad news. He tells her, “don't tell me,” before she continues and says his father called. Bruce has his head down, angrily finishing her sentence, “he's gotta work late!” He looks out the window as if his father will appear and says, “It's not fair! He promised he would take me trick or treating!” Martha soothes that she knows as Bruce repeats, “he promised,” to himself disappointedly. She tells him, “But there was an emergency,” which makes Bruce snap, “There's always some emergency!”

Bruce continues to stand in front of the window as Martha looks at him. Bruce announces, “I'm gonna wait for him. Even if it takes all night!” as he tensely clenches the handle of his sword. Martha reaches out for him sadly and suggests, “Bruce, I could take you out myself. Or, we can call some of the other children at school and go out with them.” Bruce, as an adult, somberly says off panel that, “she doesn't know...” as his kid self stares out the window still. His hat casting a small shadow on his face as he tells her, “There are no other kids to call. I have no friends at school.” Martha says his name again but doesn't know how to comfort him. Instead, she just silently places a hand on his shoulder. We see a silhouette from far away of her standing next to him as Bruce waits for his father to eventually come home. END ID]

#hey do you ever think about bruce's childhood and feel your chest hurt #like even before the murders. just how lonely he was a boy and how that loneliness only grew after watching his entire life and people he #had be ripped away from him. sure he had alfred but his entire life and world was contained to that big scary house that was suddenly so #much emptier. the constant reminders and seeing what was once there and triggering it again and again and again ontop of ptsd and ocd... #also martha?? love her. hes the biggest mama's boy you cant change my mind. #<- again using this tag because if thomas worked a lot and bruce obviously didn't have friends to go out with #then the only person he ever actually talked to and interacted with was his mother and alfred #the man hired to care about you and the woman who gave birth to you. thus that attachment being stronger #but also the 'people have to be trapped to want to be around me'... a man hired to be your friend and take care of you... #ur own parents not wanting to/avoiding that responsibility and involvement.... yeah. #anyways ! happy halloween !! heres a child being disappointed ! #bruce wayne #baby brucie #crypt's panels #c: batman: haunted knight | ghosts #martha wayne #bruce & martha #bruce's childhood

[mutantsrisingrpg]

Congratulations BECK! You’ve been accepted as EUROPA with a FC change to ELIZABETH OLSEN.

Bea’s skeleton was one of my favorites when I wrote it, and you definitely brought her to life and reminded me so much of why I loved writing it, Beck! I love the straddled lines between facade and feeling, of power and control, of protection and obedience that you explored through her eyes. There’s a tangled web she left in her wake, and her ties to others outside the mob only give her an extra dimension I can’t wait to see you explore! 

Welcome to Mutants Rising! Please read the checklist and submit your account within 24 hours.

Out of Character Information:

NAME/ALIAS: Beck

PRONOUNS: She/Her

AGE: 22 in January!

TIMEZONE & ACTIVITY LEVEL: GMT. I am in my final year of uni, so admittedly there will be times where i’m not as active as I would like to be. Though no doubt writing will be the only break I have from work so i’m gonna want to write as much as possible lmao

In Character Information:

DESIRED ROLE: Beatrice ‘Bea’ Einfalt // Europa

GENDER/PRONOUNS: Cis Female She/Her

DETAILS & ANALYSIS:

Bea is a cataclysmic event of her own making. It is hard to tell how solid she really is, and how much of the forced calm demeanour is just an optical illusion. As if this carefully balanced and closed off exterior is like a thin sheet draped over a gaping hole, of something much emptier and bleaker beneath. It was once such a conscious effort to keep those walls high, to keep herself two steps away from everyone else. That distance soon became a comfort, second nature, a feeling of security. Was that security for her or whoever she was distancing herself from though?

She would have been happy to play on no ones team. Stay a free agent but more importantly, keep herself far from anyone she could remotely care about, for fear of hurting them too. In her mind she’s the the pin of a grenade, finger on the trigger, a molotov cocktail waiting to be thrown. Her’s is a mind so shredded by it’s own teeth that sometimes, there are glimpses to be seen through the holes and tears. Her expression slips carelessly for a moment and something twisted and suffering is there instead, peering out from the body that has been forced into a prison.

Bea is similar to a flower growing through the cracks on the side walk. Other flowers look nice with their neat and pretty garden beds, but rest assured this wild flower had to fight like hell to be where it is now. It takes an observant eye to take a moment to appreciate the violet growing by itself and see the little beauties in her simplicity.

BIO:

Beatrice does not have an origin story; nothing is known about the girl she used to be, before she came to Chicago that one fateful day- a skin-and-bones rag doll girl dragging herself and her sister through the world, starved and desperate. At least, that’s the truth everyone has been led to believe.

There was always something off about the Einfalt girl. Something unsettling. People had been talking about her since you first came into this world, bright eyed and big lunged. There never seemed to be a reason for you to cry, but she was one of those babies desperate to be heard. She came rocketing into the world begging for attention, but her cries got quieter every year until she was quiet enough to make some adults around her uncomfortable. No wonder she had so few friends growing up. The kids called her mouse. Oblivious to her social ranking among some circles. Kids didn’t care that her father was quietly raising in political rank. They didn’t care that she became so quiet at home because he was so loud about what he saw as terrible world issues.

Growing up the word ‘mutant’ was always followed by ‘freak’ or ‘menace’ or ‘problem’. They were made to be the monster under her bed, the creak of floorboards at night. Bea can’t count the times her mother had to tuck her back in at night, begging her not to listen to her father and his wild thoughts. It wasn’t until years later that she found out why her mother was so gentle when her father was cold and angry.

Everything had always just felt so empty to her. The houses lined up one after another. Straight like the teeth every one of your father ‘associates’ seemed to smile at you with. Everyone seemed to be trying so hard to cling onto the façade that they were happy. They might have been. She herself was happy enough but she never understood why it just felt so ungenuine from everyone else. Her life was silver spooned perfection, but she always felt like a dove in a cage. Raised to be gentle but with fiery strength burning her your skin, threatening to burn its way out.

Bea’s childhood never seemed like anything to think twice about until you were older. To her, everyone had full days of classes, learning languages no matter how hard they were to comprehend. She was raised amongst wealth, the few friends she had were just as busy learning through the days, leaving little time to play. It was years later when she realised her father was trying to mould her into his own shadow. Unaware that she was everything in life he seemed to hate.

Growing up with so much fear of even the word ‘mutant’. When her powers reared their ugly head, Bea was rightfully terrified. If her father ever found out about her, it was unimaginable what he would do. A quiet child, her voice hadn’t raised in years. So when her mother dropped a glass, and Bea came running into the kitchen, treading on the sharp scatterings, her scream was surprising. In more ways than one. Bea will never forget the way her mother was propelled across the room, or how calm she was even as Bea couldn’t stop crying. Pressing a cloth to the back of her mothers head to stop the bleeding, all her mother could do was try to reassure her it was okay. The story of the mutant gene in their family was a long one, but Bea’s mother managed to tell the tale before her father got home.

Life was always going to be difficult after that point. Bea went from quiet to almost silent, terrified if she spoke something awful was going to happen again. It took years for her to allow her mother to tell her more about their family, about her mothers own power. It wasn’t until her little sister, Ellie, showed signs of the gene that anything really kicked off, however. Where Bea had kept this secret so close to her heart, it was basically sewn into her. Ellie was never as subtle.

The day their father found out was the end of it all. For someone who’s voice felt like a caged bird, a locked away box to never open. She had no trouble using it when she found her father ready to turn over her sweet, harmless little sister to people that would no doubt poke and prod or even worse. There was no literal blood on her hands that day, but Bea will never forget the light leaving her father’s eyes, or the way her little sister cried and clung to her.

Bea would never have gotten away with this normally, and her father was no normal man. A politician with strong Anti-Mutant views was always going to be well known. It was her mother that took the fall. Persuasiveness weaved through her DNA, literally. Convincing officers and officials that she was the one to do this was easy. Too easy. While some looked deeper, suspiciousness rampant, others were just glad to have this cruel man out of the way.

It’s been years since that day that Bea and Ellie were made practically orphans. Several cities, several lives. Bea’s mother is granted a visit once a month that never goes unanswered, and hearing the pride her voice when Bea mentioned The Jem Family eases a hole in Bea’s heart each time. Guilt still rages rampant at where her mother will be for the rest of her life. Now that she’s older however, knowing that she took out a horrifically evil man, and saved so many mutants? Makes it all a little more worth it. What if the truth is revealed, however? There will still be her fathers supporters, even years later, still digging for the truth. Each day Bea works that little harder, to work on her own powers to protect herself and her sister in case that day comes.

EXPANDED CONNECTIONS:

When there was no one in the world Bea could trust besides her sister. It was a small, lonely world. Then there was her introduction to Jem and those involved. She went from having no one, to people who actively wanted to know and care for her. It was far too much all at once, and frankly Bea pulled away more than she wanted to.  Sensible distance was always kept from people, but it felt like she was digging a ravine between her and them all. The first to start building a bridge was Shae. When Bea took a step back, Shae stepped forward. When someone would usually write her off as too broken, too distant, too uncaring. Shae was always there. Never pushy but always actively trying to get to know Bea. If her life was a constant storm, Shae was the sun behind the clouds. It was impossible to make friends, and Bea will admit that was on purpose. It was a comfort to be unknown. Now its a comfort to know she can call or visit Shae and be understood and wanted. She’s the one person in the world that has some idea of what might have happened in Bea’s past, however no matter how close they become, Bea knows she’s always going to keep Shae that little bit away from the truth.

EXTRA:

Pinterest Board here!: https://pin.it/fnymedfualhdfq

Her father raised her with every intent of moulding her into his own shadow. With his wealth he enrolled her into more classes than a child was ever capable of keeping up with. This included languages like German and French. As a result education is exhausting for Bea, and she avoided going to further education and instead learns in her own time. Alone.

There are very few people that can pull a full, engaged conversation out of Bea. She isn’t rude, she’ll always talk to people when talked to first, but her interest is often elsewhere. She’s well aware this makes her come off as uncaring at times, and she doesn’t bother to correct people.

There’s fear of the unknown weaved between her bones, born from years of fear. But there’s an adventurous streak that brings out the bold and the brave within her. New experiences and the thrill and power that come with them are calculated and thought out butare often craved.

She’s not naive, she knows how this world works. Its good at times yes but there’s so much bad and so many people that fall under that darker side. That she knows to keep her wits about her at all times. Those she has befriended still know only what she wants them to know about her.

The memories are never going to fade, everything a constant reminder of the past. However the longer she spends pretending her past didn’t exist, the easier it becomes to believe it herself.

Theres a rage inside Bea she tries so hard to pretend doesn’t exist. It built her entire childhood, when she had to face fear every single day. Or as she lacked the friends she needed. The comfort she needed. It exploded out of her when her father threatened her sister, and  ever since Bea has tired to lock it away. The only person who ever saw that anger since then was Ciara and it keeps Bea up at night that she saw that side of her. No matter how angry their break up, she knows she could have kept more control.

ANYTHING ELSE: A FC change to Elizabeth Olsen please?

#accepted #accepted: europa