(Part of this post with older brother danyal al ghul)
...Okay, look. Sam knows she's staring. She knows very well that she is staring. And that if she doesn't stop staring it's gonna draw her unwanted attention, and that will only have to make her explain why she's staring. Which she doesn't want to do.
She's trying not to stare, which she thinks she should get brownie points for. She tries to look away, to find a spot on the wall to stare lifelessly at, maybe she can burn holes into some of these annoying socialites' heads. But eventually her eyes drift, and suddenly she's back to staring again.
Can you blame her though? Damian Wayne looks like a very close mini-me of her fucking best friend. Seriously, it's like looking into a mirror to the past. If that mirror to the past had green eyes rather than blue and a distinctive lack of a facial scar.
The first time she sees him when her parents drag her over to Bruce Wayne to butter up to him she has to do a doubletake. Then a triple take. Then a quadruple take, just for good measure that she was seeing what she was actually seeing. She was sure she looked like one of those stress toys that when squeezed had their eyes pop out comically like a Saturday morning cartoon, that's what she certainly felt like anyways.
Look, Danny's come a decent way from being that scowl-y, jerkish little ten year old she first met when he arrived like the wind to Amity Park five years ago (even if he was still occasionally scowl-y and jerkish), but one thing that's stayed the same is how reserved he is about his home life prior to being taken in by the Fentons.
He doesn't talk about it much, and Sam's come to know that he's very good at changing the subject when it gets brought up. Even after being friends for nearly four years, the only thing she and Tuck know for certain is that he has a little brother that he refers to as 'starlight', whom he cares a lot about but left on really bad terms with. And that he's never met his father, but wants to and knows who he is.
He's never told her or Tucker who he was though, and glancing at Bruce Wayne, Sam is realizing why. She can begrudgingly acknowledge all the good he's done for Gotham, but... well, if Danny told her that Bruce Wayne was his dad, she wouldn't have believed him at all.
But she's starting to see the resemblance, as subtle as it is.
And she sees the resemblance to Damian Wayne, her eyes dropping back down to him as he wears a very Danny-like scowl on his face, arms crossed behind his back as his eyes swept around the ballroom. He was five years younger than Danny, and god it was so, so weird.
His eyes turned on to her, and they locked gazes for a moment.
Involuntarily, Sam makes a startled noise and looks away. Fingers tap against her purse, black and purple and unfortunately a clutch that only held her phone and her wallet in it. She would have kept a knife on her, but her parents put their foot down and there was a security detail at the door. Only in Gotham.
Silently, she was hoping that the little Danny-me didn't say anything. Or at least, he hadn't noticed her staring. Which was a tall order if she ever heard one -- and unfortunately, her silent prayers went unanswered as her mother's eyes dropped down onto her.
"Did you say something, Samantha?" She asks in a sickeningly sweet voice, a sound that makes Sam's skin crawl. Her dad and Bruce Wayne's attention also turns onto her, and she glowers at her mom from the corner of her eye.
"I didn't say anything." Sam says, barely keeping her tone polite as she turned her head away. Her mother clucks her tongue, disapproving, but from her peripherals doesn't pester her more
Bruce Wayne, the bastard, takes that time to turn to Sam and grace her with his dime-a-dozen billboard smiles. "I've been talking with your parents this whole time, Miss Manson, you must be terribly bored. How is your schooling going?"
Sam eyes him up and down. On one hand, she immediately wants to be snarky. It's none of his business what her school life is like, she doesn't care for his fucking small talk.
On the other hand, this was Danny's whole father. Someone who she knows that Danny has wanted to meet for, what she's assuming, his whole life. He's never brought it up much, but she remembers that very quiet, solemn conversation she and Tucker had with him where he admits to having never met his dad. But god does he want to.
And... wait. Sam's eyes narrow, and she meets Bruce Wayne's eyes. Does this man even know Danny exists? She drops her gaze down to Damian, who was staring at her suspiciously, and then back up to Bruce, and she alternates between them.
Why was Damian living with Bruce, but not Danny? Why hasn't Bruce done anything to reach out to him - what was going on with Danny's biological family that Danny had to be separated from them, but not Damian? Danny's always been kinda mysterious, but now things weren't adding up.
Was Danny given up? Does Bruce just not want Danny, but wanted Damian? Why the fuck does Bruce Wayne know about Damian but not her best friend -- or does he know and just not care? He's fought for custody for his adoptive kids before, does he just not want to fight for his other biological son? Does he think Danny's not worth it?
She's never cared much about the Wayne family before, other than to hear about the advancements on WE's eco-friendly tech, but Sam thinks she's gonna have to look into why Damian Wayne was living with the Waynes.
Slowly, with a protective anger beginning to burn in her gut and crawl up her throat, a scowl slowly curls at the corner of her lip as she redirects her glare from her mother onto Bruce. "It's going fine," She says curtly, jutting her chin out defiantly. "Me and my friend Danny started a petition to fix the leaky faucets in the girls and boys' bathrooms in order to conserve more water for the rest of the city."
She eyes his face, waiting to see if anything like recognition flashes through it. And- and nothing. Sam breathes in slowly through her nose, trying to quell the red that's blurring the edge of her vision -- does he just, not know where Danny is?
Her parents however, make vaguely displeased expressions. "Our Samantha is... quite passionate about her pet projects." Her dad says, laughing low and nervously, "she's very vocal about silly things like that."
"Her friend Daniel is perhaps even worse than she is sometimes." Her mother adds on, fanning her face with her perfectly manicured hands with a sigh. "I swear, he's the one that keeps dragging her into these things."
Sam's anger turns on its head, and she whirls on her heel like a fire-breathing dragon. "It's Danyal." It rolls out like instinct. Danny's told them both that he hates the Americanized pronunciation of his name, but in a rare moment of restraint, puts up with it for reasons unknown to her. "And Danny doesn't make me do anything, it was my idea."
The name, Danyal, seems to ring some kind of bell in Brucie Wayne's head, because she sees him and Damian quietly perk up like two cats pricking up their ears. Her eyes flick onto him immediately, something dangerous rearing its head. So Bruce Wayne knows about Danny. And he's not reaching out to him. Is he? She's not sure.
She does know that she's gonna rip his throat out if she finds out that he's known about Danny this entire time and has been ignoring him while favoring his little brother. She'll hunt down Aragon herself and steal his dragon-shifting amulet and wreck house on Bruce Wayne if that's the case. Batman and his league of vigilantes be damned. Her parents don't notice her slowly turning head towards Bruce.
But Bruce does, and she makes direct eye contact with him. His smile doesn't falter, he just tilts his head like a curious puppy and looks at Sam's parents. She hopes Bruce can read minds, she hopes he can hear her threatening him.
"Danyal?" He asks, and Sam doesn't know if she hates the fact that he said it correctly or not. She just continues burning holes into him and hoping he might spontaneously combust.
Her mother waves her hand dismissively, tilting her nose up poshly into the air. "Our dear Samantha's little... foster friend from school," she says, not even bothering to hide her disdain, "a creepy little boy with the most garish scar on his face. He's a rude little thing, not good for polite company."
Scratch that, Sam mentally alternates between ripping into her parents and Bruce. She whirls on them. "Do not talk about Danny that way." She all but snarls, and they all but ignore her.
(She's tearing up the upholstery when she gets home. She's going to paint over the fine china. She's going to do something to make them pay for this.)
"Oh yes, he was taken in by that freaky Fenton family a few years ago." Her dad continues in lieu of her mom, and they both shake their heads disapprovingly. "It's just what our city needs, another menace."
"Danny is not a menace." Sam continues, raising her voice while her hands shake with rage. Her parents finally look at her, but she can already tell that they're going to scold her for raising her voice. She bulldozes over them and jabs her black-painted finger at them. "He's got a bigger heart than the both of you combined."
"Samantha, please." her mom says, exasperated. They both give her disapproving looks, Sam thinks about grabbing champagne off the tray of a nearby waiter and throwing it in their faces. "You defend that boy far too much. What do you actually know about him and his family?"
Sam sets her jaw, puffing herself up like a dragon protecting its hoard. She steps into her mom's space. "I know that he loves the stars; you can ask him anything about astronomy and he could give you an entire lecture on the formation, class types, and various gasses that stars are made up of. He can tell you how the Earth was formed, he can tell you about the visible light spectrum and about light curves, and a whole ton of other stuff that I don't really understand. But Danny loves talking about it."
Her face twists and scowls, "I know he cares a ton about the environment and about fixing light pollution, and preserving the forests and natural habitats of animals." She nearly jabs her finger into her mom's chest, "I know he loves dogs, and that there's one he feeds every day on the way to school that he calls Cujo, its a St. Bernard puppy and Danny carries him around whenever he sees him after school, and is in the middle of training him."
It's not a total lie, but it's not the whole truth either. Cujo doesn't need food, but Danny gives him it anyways. "I know he likes spicy food and loves movies but specifically only sci-fi and horror, and he hates most martial arts movies. His favorite superhero is the Martian Manhunter, but Batman comes in at a close second." For reasons to her that were pretty unknown, but it didn't matter.
"I know he loves wordplay and making puns, which I would have never expected from him when we first met, but it's so unbelievably Danny-like that I can't imagine him not making puns." And she smiles a little to herself, she remembers the first time Danny intentionally made a pun once and it got startled laughs out of both her and Tucker.
Her smile suddenly falters, and she swallows. Her lips purse up, wobbling, and she very quickly glances over to Damian Wayne, of whom is watching her with a vaguely bewildered expression alongside Bruce.
She turns her eyes back onto her parents. "And I know that he worries a lot, even if he has a shit way of showing it. I know he had a little brother that he hasn't seen since he was adopted by the Fentons, and he doesn't talk about him often but when he does he he calls him 'starlight'." From the corner of her eye, she sees Damian jerk.
"So- so, so what if he's not 'good for polite company'." Sam's voice, embarrassingly, cracks down the middle. But she's so angry over Danny's behalf that she doesn't really care. "Or that he can be mean, and critical, and stubborn. He's learning, and he's becoming kinder by the day. That's more than I can say about you."
(She remembers when Danny finally admitted to her and Tucker being his 'closest friends'. It was sometime before the portal incident, and it felt like a milestone because beforehand he only really referred to them as his companions or allies.)
(At the time, he'd looked unsure of himself. Skittish like a stray in the back of an alleyway, almost shy in his own way. It had come out stilted, slow, like an infant taking its first steps, and it would have been endearing if it hadn't been heartbreaking.)
Her parents rear back like she'd struck them, and her mother holds a hand against her chest in aghast. Sam doesn't care, she blinks the sting out of her eyes. "Samantha." Her mother starts.
Sam cuts her off, "I don't care what you have to say, you-- you pricks." she snaps, around her, there are gasps. Belatedly, she realizes she's grown an audience, but again she doesn't care. "Danny might be an asshole, but he cares. And I'd rather be around someone whose mean but cares, than someone whose nice but doesn't."
With that, she whirls on her foot and turns on Bruce Wayne, who has been silent the entire time with a surprised expression on his face. He starts to shake out of it when Sam turns to him, but she doesn't give him the chance to speak. "Enjoy your party." She snarls, and then stalks away.
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You may regret this @phoenixcatch7 lol, what if I start spamming you /j
Less cryptid Batman in this particular WIP since it's semi-outsider pov lol (one of two outside person not unnerved by them lol)
🦇👻🪆🦇👻🪆🦇👻🪆🦇👻🪆🦇👻🪆🦇👻🪆🦇👻🪆🦇
Clark knew Batman wasn’t human, even before that disaster of a mission where he had let it slip to the others.
He’d known for a long time, from one of their early meetups, when Batman had first referred to him as Clark Kent instead of Kal-El, and he had panicked. He hadn’t ever lied to his teammates when he said that the cloak prevented him from seeing his body, but his ears still worked.
He’d tried to listen to a heartbeat, to see if his at the time temporary ally was lying when he stated he wasn’t going to tell anyone and… Nothing. There was no heartbeat, no breathing, nothing even remotely human, and if he didn’t know any better, nothing even remotely alive about the silence.
He couldn’t help but to pay attention more, to seek out the strange almost silence-feeling that accompanied the Gotham vigilante each time he felt it. It was… almost comforting, like the swaying of branches and the rustling of cloth over stone. Familiar, compared to the hustle and bustle surrounding him in the city.
The first thing he had noticed, physically that is, was Batman’s ears. Previously he’d thought the man unemotional, what with the rough voice, expressionless white eyes, cloak-covered body and the gas mask covering a good chunk of his face.
Yet the longer he watched, even idly, the more he noticed that while the man’s face or body didn’t show much, his ears did.
While Batman could stay silent and still for hours, the long ears twitched and swiveled, catching on the hood that he’d always wear around them. They’d pin back sometimes, a near silent sound he couldn’t quite place accompanying the movement, while other times they’d twist a near full three-sixty, as though searching for whatever sound it had caught.
Sometimes, when he’d startled the other vigilante, there’d be rattling noise, like wood and metal clacking together before it was cut off. It was a strange sound, one he’d not heard anywhere else, except with his… friend.
Were they friends? He’d like to think so.
The next time he was reminded that his friend wasn’t human was when he saw him get injured. It hadn’t been a bad injury, even if the Gothamite’s head had hit the wall with a very loud cracking noise, but he’d still smelled what he’d eventually come to recognize as blood. There was an almost pickle-like scent to it though that wasn’t quite it either.
Honestly the closest he could think of describing it was some sort of formaldehyde. And once he focused, he could pick out other things beneath it. Maybe not flesh and blood in the traditional sense, but still.
There was always that scent of cloth and wood, but he could smell the black liquid, paint, a metallic thing underneath like iron and steel. No heartbeat, no breath, but life all the same. It was honestly beautiful in a way, like a part of the city the other vigilante called home had come to life.
And it wasn’t like Batman minded whenever his own human mask slipped. Clark may have been raised by his Ma and Pa, whom he loved, but it didn’t make his body any more human in nature. There were just some things that he couldn’t change, and it took effort to move like one all day as a civilian when his body wasn’t designed to do so.
So he stayed quiet for the most part when their group of three grew, and people started to speculate. He diverted the conversations whenever it turned to him, lightly admonishing over the various rumors.
It didn’t matter if Batman wasn’t human, he was still his friend, their ally and teammate. Was he curious? Oh of course, he’d gone into journalism for a reason after all, but it was still his friend. If he wanted to tell, he’d tell, and Clark wouldn’t break his trust.
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sorry if this is a silly question but do you like. sit down and talk with your ocs in your head? and they tell you about themselves? how do you get them to reveal information....i am begging mine to let me know them orz
I do! In several different ways ^_^ the trick is to think of yourself as a character in your brain theater... ill mostly be explaining thru examples and using silly language ^_^ and its more How I Do It vs a how to....
"Sitting down and talking to em" interrogation style only happens before they're fully formed. when talon still didnt have very many traits it was like we were in a white room with 2 chairs... although you COULD make a scenario out of this its usually the Before for me. final tweaks in the form of basic traits and info before sending em out for further development
the way i get ocs to tell me about themselves is more thru actions! with talon I "locked him in a room" with al in the form of imagining how they'd meet. because I set it in talon's decrepit home with no running water or electricity, there come questions like. would he be accommodating? would he explain the vampirism or just rely on flashing his fangs or hiding them until its time to bite? these arent questions i actually went into the scenario having, but as you Play Dolls its questions that get answered anyway, ykwim? (although you could also go into the simulation (lol) with questions you want answered!) And its your brain so you can do as many takes and tweaks as you want, and things develop as you imagine the same thing, or different things, which all inform a character.
Scenarios could be anything. Im a serial daydreamer so anything goes depending on how bored I am or what im doing... and just like with real people, every scenario is a way to learn more about somebody...! It's like improv in your brain as you think up how they'd react and respond to things, and what they'd say. But also, going with your oc to the grocery store or a restaurant or to slay a dragon could give you insight into their behavior but likely not any info about their trauma or whatever, just like real people (but it also depends on the person) (and the oc!)
I DO have "sit down and talk" scenarios once i feel ive learned enough standard, early level friendship stuff about em though. It's much fun if you set the scene in your mind to mimic a real life Deep Conversation session. Sitting in the backyard on those plastic chairs, or aimless car ride at night. right now the one I keep going back to is just. Loafed in bed when you're really sleepy and just starting to say anything about anything and maybe get a little sentimental. sometimes its just me talking but I obvs have the ability to imagine how he'd be interpreting that in his brain, ykwim?? You play several roles at once I guess. It's like the sims, switching back and forth between povs, but the level of immersion i get into never feels like I'm Making Them Say It, it just feels natural at that point because I've learned enough.
There's also information that's shared by you figuring out what they'd Think (as above) vs what they say which is also fun characterwise... AND ALSO while im daydreaming scenarios I do multiple takes to find their voice. Like, I'm an overexplainer, a detailed therapy-speak-er. Sometimes I catch myself giving ocs that Voice and I have to do a retake. Like hold on, Talon would NOT be introspective. He wouldn't share all that shit I just "made" him say even if it is true and now I know about it. He'd say something insanely vague and confusing if anything at all. Let's take it from the top. etc
It rlly is about immersion! You have to have fun with it! Sometimes it's so Real to me that I genuinely can't develop an oc further because I cant make something up for them and they wont "tell me", which means I just have to spend more time with em I guess! or maybe need to leave em alone for a bit. or maybe ill never know (<- which also tells me about em!) just like real people. treat the fake people like real people in your fake dollhouse brain theater sims lot puppet show simulation.... also i added more in the tags bc i didnt know where to put it in the main txt 😭
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Whumptober day 21 prompt: Vows and Whumptober day 23 prompt: Stalking | Shadows
Character: Hero (OMORI) -AU-
The streets were lit by the lampposts lining each side, in the starless night where the full moon's light was much too bright for the stars to shine, it would've been mystifying to merely look at the moon at the comfort of one's own room. Not for a particular woman however, with a name not worth knowing. It didn't matter really.
Walking all on her lonesome, the woman was quite alert of her surroundings, gripping her phone tightly in her hand in case something happened. She was unfortunate enough to do overtime for her job, even more so unfortunate to walk home without anyone to accompany her. Such is the predicament of living alone.
Her steps were quick, glancing over her shoulder from time to time, she seemed to even be distracting her thoughts as her lips subtly moved with her quiet mumbling. She can't shake off the feeling of being watched again, she jumped at the slightest of sound, from the rustling of the trees to the buzzing of insects. Her eyes darted from shadow to shadow, anxiety rising of a danger invisible to her eyes. It has been one of her biggest worries lately, a potential “stalker.”
Her pace got quicker and quicker, a bit more and she would've been running already. But something stopped her from actually doing so…
“Oh!” The woman slowed to a halt as she bumped into… someone, “I'm so sorry!”
“Ahaha, it's alright! Not meaning to intrude, but are you alright? You seem frightened.”
To have and to hold from this day forward,
The woman averted her eyes, seemingly embarrassed, “Ahh… It was just… I felt like someone was watching me…”
“Hmm, I see… It is truly terrifying walking alone at night after all.”
for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer,
“Ahah, right… A-anyway. I'll be going now, I'm sorry for bumping into you again.” She smiled awkwardly, an attempt to appear friendly as she walked past.
“Ah, no, it's alright. Umm… If it's fine with you, I can walk you home. My place is still quite far but I turn the corner over there.”
in sickness and in health,
The woman looked at the direction, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, glancing at her phone and the streets. She contemplated if she should take the offer, her house was on the opposite direction anyway.
“U-umm… O-okay… Okay! I'm so sorry again…” She finally decided upon an answer after a few seconds, even if it seemed as though she merely convinced herself to take it. In her eyes, it was better to have someone nearby in case her “stalker” was close by.
“Ahaha! It's fine! Thank you for trusting me. I'll walk side by side with you.”
to love and to cherish,
The woman's worries were eased now that she has a companion to walk with. The feeling of being watched seemingly gone too, their destination neared and it was time for the woman to part.
Just as the woman turned around, perhaps to say her thanks, a light flashed close to her neck. It was as if a star fell, it was quite romantic on such a dark night. The woman fell forward with a small yelp from the taser's stinging pain, most likely.
“Hmhmm… Not like I've tried it.”
until parted by death.
I hummed, laying the woman's body on the floor as I opened my luggage, she was a perfect fit inside it, thankfully. It would've been such a hassle if not, twisting her body just so she fits was far too time consuming. I zipped up the luggage as I stood, patting it once before turning around to make my way home.
Don't worry, don't worry… I just need a bit more materials, some more parts, please be patient. It'll all be alright, I'll find the perfect parts for you. It'll all be like the old times. So just wait for me, I'll fix you soon.
This is my solemn vow.
Mari…
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