FRIENDS – 5.11: The One With All the Resolutions
four other major cities make up thane’s kingdom which was acquired through his efforts in expanding their borders. he appointed his sisters as the one to oversee these acquisitions and essentially gave them free reign as they wished within reason. their basic rules are the same but what they’d developed their lands into was entirely up to them as long as they shared their earnings with the others. each city was a wheel to keep things going but they’d all still be able to exist if one happened to fall into obscurity. despite finding himself in inodal, which was the capital of it all, he’d venture to these other places to grace them with his presence and allow them to partake in celebrations they’d heard about which happened in the inodal itself. inodal was, for lack of better word, viewed as a type of paradise where everyone prospered. smaller towns fill the gaps between the cities but do fall under the rule of them.
ezeocia was the closest to inodal, it made its trade in crops of a greater variety along with dealing in spices to share with the kingdom itself. placed against the sea as well, they’d also have a hand in fish trade and pearl hunting but with far more dedication than inodal. it’d appear closer to a fishing town with a grand pier and many other boats lined along its coastline which would move to deliver goods where it’d be able.
iramuca found its niche in ores and precious stones which crafted it into a mining city that’d supply a great deal of the material that’d be used for armor and weapons. workers had a powerful voice here since they were the ones working tirelessly to mine out the materials and craft them into something that’d be of use. digging for precious stones further flourished their wealth and a great deal of jewelry would spread from them all across the land. their craftsmanship becoming rather famous among the people that’d actually be able to afford it.
murozia fashioned itself into a place of knowledge, dipping into the arcane and housing a college that’d teach magic for many years after building upon what was already there. bolstering it into a place where many techniques and crafts would be discovered or perfected. it’d also find itself second to inodal as a place to worship the gods and pay them tribute. they’d deal in potions, herbs, medicines, and textiles which fetched a good price while being useful to many.
shezregary became a prison city, keeping those that’d been found guilty of grievous crimes and sentenced to live out their years in isolation. the prison is massive and the people that live there are the ones who are related to the guards working in it. the prison would contribute to the weapons and armors crafted as service to the kingdom by those that were incarcerated.
an important thing to remember was most of the land outside of inodal itself originally belonged to other people; it’d been conquered and claimed by their armies. the people that’d lived this before were either driven out or adopted into the kingdom. being overtaken definitely leads to some animosity, naturally, but thane’s curse would impact these areas enough to where it’d stay simmering instead of boiling over while they worked to defuse it. there’s also how things like monsters were viewed, those that carried themselves as humans would. it’d result in the same effect, numbed down to the point where it’d stay from spilling over but somewhat present in the community in the cities but less so in inodal itself. preaching for equality is a lot different than obtaining it but thane did have his eyes sight on that being the final conclusion.
did she sigh? maybe at his response ( or her own lack of clarity. ) sometimes, words were more dangerous than back alley thugs and supervillains. comparing them to her skills in combat — well, her litany of ways to express herself was deeply lacking. all too often, she knew, that she came off as vague or obtuse. it's better at home, though, better with people who speak in action over words: that really spoke cass. still, there's a problem, and batkids... are pretty good at coming up with a solution.
❛ very. ❜ she surmised — in the dark, the faintest smile plays on her lips. scaling the walls would've been easier, springing between the towering brick walls. could've done it in her sleep, too; it's her first instinct, actually. but, she freezes. civilian, right. thus, her plan changes. luckily, there's a fire escape nearby. better than nothing for getting them off the streets ( and away from the thugs that'd come looking for their buddies. ) it's gotham; nobody goes anywhere alone. jerking her chin towards the ladder, she reaches for it — rising on her tiptoes, although doomed to fall short. ❛ mind giving me a boost, er, ... ❜ right, she never asked his name.
Yusuke thought the Japanese underworld was ripe with dangers, the West really had arguments to share. While most crimes were organized in Japan, Gotham demonstrated exactly what chaos meant. However, lucky for him he’s even found himself a partner in crime on this night to aid him in the fighting. Ha, his mother would never believe him when he tells her he’s gotten into a little scrap and he wasn’t the one who caused it. Once she extended her hand he realized once again that this isn’t Japan and so Yusuke responds in kind by shaking her hand, holding her firmly.
━━ ❝ 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐧. ❞ Not because he felt she has a good grip of her own, but just the way she moved..like she’s accustomed in taking down the local thugs and if that was the case he was beginning to feel sorry for them. “Up..” He then looks up, the only thing he’s able to see beyond the opposing walls that make this alley was the cold starless night. “Don’t exactly see an elevator t’ get up there.”
Mary Oliver, from a poem titled "March," featured in New And Selected Poems: Volume Two
Thor Ragnarok (2017)
@giftober 2024 + @mcuchallenge | Day 8/31: Home
also, this is wish list style but someone getting sent isekai style to inodal?? just, you're here now. high odds thane would try to orchestrate for them to die but like... the slow realizing they need them for this prophecy and realizing its out of their control which is a big thing for him. then def running into each other in the modern day and hitting a spider man point meme 'you??' 'me.'
just some cass metas so i can figure things out ;
001. Cassandra learned body language before language. It became the first and only thing she could understand. Since taking up the mantle of b//atgirl, she's undergoes/undergone speech therapy to improve her speech. Despite being able to speak, she speaks more so with clear intent or prefers fewer words. When she speaks in a longer form, it's with feelings behind them or meaning.
002. I believe this sits as canon for most bat//family members, but Cass teaches self-defense techniques to the women of G//otham on a volunteer basis. Giving them the means to defend themselves from the city's mean streets, she's thrilled to put her skills to use for more than crimefighting. To give her bloodied legacy a far better meaning alongside serving as b//atgirl.
003. Strong silent type. Most problems are internalized, although some are expressed through reckless behaviors in the field. A strong sense of guilt sits inside her from past actions, along with the sting of failure that comes from the past. She throws herself into the field in a way to make up and bury those feelings more often than not. A bit hard to get a read on if you don't know her very well.
004. It's almost impossible to lie to Cass. Reading body language and additional training made her a walking lie detector. The tiniest shift of weight, the subtle twitch of an eye, a quirk of lips tend to be more than enough for her to read people. She doesn't think fondly of liars, especially when they're close to her. On the same note, because her social skills are developing gradually, her mouth reacts faster than her mind to family matters. Reading the members of the b//atfamily, unfortunately, happens all too often. She worries for them; she blurts out what they're trying to hide, sometimes leading to more friction between them.
005. A strong craving for fast food, not necessarily the fondest of sweets.
brad's traveled countless worlds, seen the edge of time, and bumped shoulders with gods and monsters alike. he did it all —— he did it too fast and too young. instead of savoring every moment, he hurried along to the next without ever stopping to wonder if these times would last forever. unfortunately, they did not. he knows how this story ends whether he likes it or not, making everything seem pointless. what's left for someone who can no longer experience newfound pleasures and experiences? boredom. a deep boredom.
he gallivants around as the machiavellian adventurer, putting his wants over the needs of others because that's what he's always done. if he stops moving and breaks for an instant, will those thoughts come back? will he be able to fend off that everything's tinged in grey and pointless? so, he never stops. going from one role to the next keeps him distracted from confronting the end.
the roles he picks are impromptu. whichever is the most interesting at the time. it could be the villain, the mentor, the naysayer, the optimist, anything and everything that lets him escape. if everyone's the protagonist of their story, then brad inserts himself in roles aligned with how it plays out. a chance to see something different — he hopes. it's these roles, however, that keep him from connecting with others. a clever guise painted across that ache inside. if someone threatens to peel them back, he runs. he's always running.
beneath the charm and spells is a lonely man. someone unable to grasp the pleasure of life again because he's seen too many things. he doesn't go out of his way to change things. he doesn't flex against the mold; he exists and continues on. he knows it's pointless. if he changes, it's small things to him. his morality, in some ways, is muddled. as a being deeply touched by magic, his emotions are fickle and wild. it's fluid and dangerous. one moment, things could be fine, and the next, chaos for the sake of chaos. for the sake of excitement.
he struggles to feel things but allows himself to live through others. to let them experience some, never all, of the wonders he's seen. it's a comfort to remember what joy looks like, what sadness and rage appear in another's face when genuine. to see himself, a fractured piece of infinity, sitting in another's gaze. he never has qualms about rushing into danger; he wants to draw out more of those feelings that he has lost. it's cruel to play with others' feelings; he knows and does it anyway. it's the only thing he feels he rests in the palm of his hand.
❛ hey ! i make an honest living—— it's not stealing if you're stealing it from people it didn't belong to begin with. ❜ it makes for a fun challenge, too. a bit of rolling in the mud before appreciating what glitters beyond it. ( although no small part of him prefers the hunt over acquisition. ) it's a game—— a challenge worth puzzling over. by now, well, he'll be able to give the staffordshire hoard a run for its money &. half that treasure wasn't even magical. silver and gold is nice, sure, but enchanted silvers and gold? no contest. ❛ help yourself. it won't be missed, and that one you've been eyeing suits you. although, anything here would. 'sides, i ain't falling for those sticky fingers again. ❜
“ woah, look at all this stuff! ” he's got all kinds of things- things she's never seen before, things she wouldn't consider stealing. she doesn't know where to look first, or what to grab first, take for her own collection. the glint of a gold necklace catches her eye, and she crouches down to get a better look. “ how did you find all of this? do you steal it from people, or do you buy it? ” if it's the latter, he must be rich. / @amcssing ( ♡'d , for brad)
At the far end of the street, on my side, was the silhouette of a man, dancing. It was a strange dance, similar to a waltz, but he finished each “box” with an odd forward stride. I guess you could say he was dance-walking, headed straight for me.
[…] He was very tall and lanky, and wearing an old suit. He danced closer still, until I could make out his face. His eyes were open wide and wild, head tilted back slightly, looking off at the sky. His mouth was formed in a painfully wide cartoon of a smile.
— The Smiling Man