Yuu: Don't worry, Rollo. I mean, none of the NRC boys got punished, so...
Rollo:... What?
Yuu: Oh, yeah, Riddle over there? Was a tyrant, got pissed when someone went against him, overbloted and tried to kill everyone.
Riddle: Wait–
Yuu: Ruggie helped his Housewarden with a plan that could've potentially harmed a lot of people, only for said Housewarden to get pissed when the plan failed, overblot and try to kill everyone, starting with Ruggie himself.
Ruggie: At least he paid indemnity...
Yuu: Our boy Azul? Tried to enslave people for free labor, got pissed when his plans for destroyed, overbloted, stole everyone's magic and tried to kill everyone.
Azul: Prefect, please refrain–
Yuu: Jamil did a whole show: he brainwashed his Housewarden into being an asshole to get people to kick him out, once that failed, he overbloted and brainwashed his entire dorm to serve him and then tried to kill us when we tried stopping him.
Jamil: Hey, there's no need to bring that up–!
Yuu: Vil, Rook and Epel's Housewarden, got very envious of this person who was considered prettier. After he failed at killing his rival with poison, he overbloted and tried to kill everyone with poison.
Rook: Truly an grandiose spectacle!
Yuu: Idia was the worst, I think, he and his brother overbloted, then tried to free monsters to destroy the world so they could build a new one where they'd fit in.
Idia: Hrk!
Yuu: So don't worry about it, you'll be fine!
Rollo:...
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Digital Circus AMA Notes
Digital Circus is getting a season 1 at some point!!!!
#webcore aesthetic board for the series design
Pomni was going to be a frog originally. 🐸
90s toys Zooble inspo
Caine is an antagonist, but not by active choice, he doesn't know he's not helping. He doesn't feel a whole spectrum of human emotions (he's an AI).
"Caine canonically just lets things happen if he thinks it's funny."
Characters eat like Chao in Chao garden in Sonic. The characters can eat the food, but they can't digest it.
Jax's favorite food is spaghetti.
Pomni likes salmon.
Q "Was the ending a 'Last Supper' reference?" A "in a very superficial kinda way yeah." Religious stuff is sometimes just used for the funny.
Gooseworx tumblr sketches MAY or MAY NOT be canon to the series, so it's up in the air for every single one.
People can abstract from feeling too much pain if it breaks their mind from it being too much. Characters feel pain from things, but not as intensely as they would in real life.
Zooble is gonna swap parts every episode (implying they have spare parts) except their body & head.
Jax chose his own name & gooseworx likes to think he chose Gangle's name.
Ragatha was named "Emmy" originally.
They (the cast of characters trapped in the circus) can't change their clothes but Caine can. It's part of their skin sorta kinda.
There's empty space under Pomni's hat because video game model physics.
Spamton was partially inspo for Caine, Caine's VA did Spamton dubs.
Gangle only has 2 masks. Why's it (her hapiness mask) break all the time? Mental state, but the "real her" is "harder to break."
Kaumfo was gonna be part of the main cast originally before Jax.
Kaufmo's model has nothing below the waist at this time, but was made for that promotional image on twitter.
Q "What kinda person was Kaufmo?" A "He was the same as Ragatha in a sense, goofy & cheery, sometimes toxic levels of positivity."
I'm paraphrasing for the sake of note taking in real time, go watch the stream playback for more context & details if you want.
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Little blurb that’s been sitting in my Docs for while based on @auspicioustidings idea from a while ago now i think— But yeah! I’be got like zero motivation to continue this- butttttt i liked the scene a lot so it shall be seen now! (Plus it’s Mhari’s Birthday!!! Happy Birthday Mhari! :> Even though i’m a few hours late into the day Hope you’re having a wonderful birth celebration!)
Based on a a scene i cooked up where reader finally gets caught by none other than the Ghost himself:
The weight of a gun in your hand is familiar.
So is the quiet sounds of a break in. You point at the door, watching, waiting. Like clockwork it creaks open, and there he is.
“Don’t move.”
You say sharply. Making the gun in your hand well known to the intruder.
Silence. He stares at you, you stare back. How many times have you done this dance? Tense words and a dashing messy escape. (The poorly wrapped bandages around your abdomen throb answering you question for you. Too many then.)
You sigh, and lower the gun.
He doesn’t even look suprised.
With a soft, Thump! ,you plop backwards onto the bed, arms outstretched. The gun is still in your hand but it’s dead weight. (Just like you.)
“…You’re not gonna ever stop are you?”
It’s said up at the shitty hotel ceiling. Hushed in the darkness of the room.
“No.”
He says it so simply.
You hum, pulling your knees and legs up onto the bed and rolling over. Back facing him, on your side. You snag a plushie on the way, hugging it close to your chest and settling your chin atop its head.
“Well shit. Turn all my red flags to white then, i give up.”
Defeated. Hushed. Tired. It sounds so unlike your normal voice. “But you already knew that didn’t you?”
There’s a dip in the bed, true to his namesake- he was silent as he walked to sit. You haven’t even heard him.
“…Who did your bandages?” Gruff bastard with his gruff voice. Sounding way too passive for talking with you, an enemy, his target actually. He should be barking orders and threats to you, you’ve heard the way he speaks on a mission before, all bite and harsh. But he shows none of that tension now. Not a lick of hostility.
“Who do you think?” You snort out, tucking your face into the head of the plushie and vehemently ignoring him.
“Kid, you need help. You can’t survive on your own.” Straight to business it seems.
Without even turning to look at him, you halfheartedly raise your middle finger.
He sighs.
Silence. Blissful, damning, silence. You’ve no more fight left to give and he knows it. Months on the run, months of constant near death escapes, months of being hunted like a dog. You’re tired. So tired.
“Ya know, Torture isn’t an effective way of getting info outta someone: statistically speaking.”
“We’re not gonna torture you.”
“But you do want that info don’t you?”
More silence.
You hum knowingly.
“And what happens after you get your precious information? You’ll kill me? Maim me like all the other fuckers who end up in your shit list?”
“No. Never.”
He says it with such ferocity it almost takes you by surprise for a second. If you were to be facing him, you would see the hardness of his eyes. The pure conviction swarming in his gaze.
“Not you. Never you.”
…
Finally you turn to him, feeling far too much like a young little kid on the playground who just can’t understand-
“Why?”
Something in his gaze softness. He wants to tell you this because he cares. The team cares. All of them- that they saw you, a prickly, panicked little bird in over their head and flying blind- but he knows it an answer you won’t accept. One you won’t understand. Not at this stage. Not yet. You don’t believe in words, you’ve been lied too far too many times for that.
So he says something you will believe. A watered down version of the truth that feels like such a disservice to everything that makes up your very being.
“You’re interesting.”
You seem to digest his words. Turning them over and thinking in that little head of yours.
‘How long is that interest gonna last?’
That's what you want to say. You want to scream at the top of your lungs that he doesn’t want you. No one does. He’ll get sick of your brashness eventually- he’ll learn and grow used to your tricks. And when your spontaneity grows old, you know what’ll happen.
But you don’t.
You say nothing except—
“…Can I at least pack my bags? …please?”
He knows you don’t have much to pack. He also knows you’re one tricky, flighty little bird. However, he heard your small plea, sees the defeated look in your eyes, the way your hand is so lax around the gun.
Gently, oh so gently, he takes the gun from your hand. You don’t even try and fight him.
“Sorry little bird. Can’t trust you to pack.”
The sad look on your face nearly makes him reconsider. But he can’t risk you getting away again. Not when you’re so easy to catch right now. So vulnerable.
“Can’t you restrain me and then i’ll tell you what to pack?”
That, he can do.
“Up.”
Commands come so naturally to him. You’re almost jealous at how easily they fall from his lips.
Like the old defeated dog you are, you listen, sitting up and presenting your hands to him to restrain. You don’t meet his eyes.
He takes no chances, you are securely bound with a pair of handcuffs. He tugs on them, standing you up and nudging you to the common area of your hotel room. It’s a sizable room, a nice hotel, though truthfully you hadn't really been thinking when you booked it. Brain to frazzled and exhausted to think about anything beyond a clean bed and a hot shower.
The lights are flicked on by his gloved hands, flooding your vision. You hiss blinking and adjusting while he nudges you to the center of the room, down into your knees.
“What am I looking for here, bird?”
Your gaze flicks to him, then to the corner of the room, a vent right by a little corner desk with a lamp.
He follows your gaze and then, (with one last hard look towards you that screams ‘stay’), he walks over. Inside the vent is a crumpled up backpack, old and raggedy. It looks out of place amongst the clean cream colors of the hotel amenities.
He prods at the thing, trained caution. (You don’t blame him after your last stunt with explosives.)
Unceremoniously he opens up the bag and dumps all its contents on the floor. You wince, watching your whole life be scattered on the ground.
A journal, a thermal blanket, a lighter, cash, USB sticks, Your laptop in its thick padded casing (thank god), stolen hotel amenities, nicotine patches, several pill bottles, a half empty water bottle, a pocket knife, bullets…
Your own personal little horde of trinkets.
“Was that necessary…?” You mutter, as he stuffs some stuff back into the bag.
“Can’t blame me for bein’ cautious.”
“Well- i could.”
He turns to look at you. Just… stares at you, all you can see is his eyes at that dreadful mask, boring into yours. He doesn’t need to say anything. You both know you could but you never. Been through too much to really blame him.
You’ve saved his life before, even though he was hunting you. You both know you would never blame him for doing his job. Not at this point.
(Just as he would never blame you for running.)
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There's something about that first meeting with Bruce, Terry and Powers that really gets me. Its so, so early in our titular heroes' partnership. They're still testing each other, weary about how the hell they're going to do this without someone ending up dead. But in this moment, Terry goes at Powers and the only thing holding him back is a single moment of looking at Bruce, and he backs off. This kid, who grew angry at a single comment from a high school friend or his dad being disappointed in him just a short time before, keeps his cool in front of the guy who murdered his dad. Just because just Bruce walking away says not now, not yet.
Terry obviously wants revenge on Powers, but I feel like it's not discussed much that Bruce does too. Batman is not the only legacy the Wayne's left in Gotham. Their company funded a lot of the welfare and social programs in a corrupt system, and it's an incredible amount of power in the hands of someone who doesn't care or is actively malicious. But that was the Bruce Wayne side of the mission. And the problem with that is that Bruce never really just let himself be Bruce Wayne. He had to have both or nothing, put every single part of himself into the mission.
Terry reclaims Batman, and with someone else under the cowl, Bruce finally reclaims Bruce Wayne. Powers and his hold over Gotham couldn't have been broken without Terry and Bruce working together, both in ways that would've been practically impossible without the other. When Blight dies, there's not even a question if they'll stop. Their redemption is already too far along.
I think part of the reason why Bruce kind of has this begrudging respect, this love/hate relationship with Terry's penchant for forgiveness is how it extends to him. I'd like to think that at first, Terry may have had resentment for what Bruce did with his company. If Bruce hadn't given up, Powers wouldn't have had the power to do what he did, and get away without legal consequence. But I'm not sure he would've held on to that resentment for long, or have it more then a thought in anger. Terry understands what causes someone to fall. As Terry said in the first episode, Something happened to you, and it wasn't just that you got old.
Bruce trains Terry, sees the potential in him to become Batman. But Terry also sees that Bruce could be better and pushes him to do so. He offers Bruce forgiveness and a second chance from his past failings. To make it up to the city he poured so much into and then abandoned. The really interesting thing is that Bruce doesnt offer that back, Terry's drive to be a better person is solely from himself. Bruce hates himself enough to stay in his misery, but Terry is the city's answer. So what? Life is not over. It's never too late. The push to take a risk and care again, about Batman, about himself, and about Gotham.
It starts here. When Bruce finally stands up to Powers, the figure of guilt and anger both if them share, and says no, I'm not going to let you do this anymore.
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