I Just Finished Writing A 20k Fic And Anyone Who Says Drugs Are A Better High Than This Is A Liar And
I just finished writing a 20k fic and anyone who says drugs are a better high than this is a liar and a fool
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First Meeting
Ann froze.
She was right in front of the door. All she needed to do was to reach out and knock, but to cross the gulf of space those few feet had turned into seemed nigh impossible.
As she’d walked to the address scribbled in magic on the back of her hand she had considered the possibility of freezing up. It had been one of the worries that were distinctly more real than the others that had crossed her mind, but perhaps due to its mundanity Ann had pushed it aside. It was easy to argue that she’d faced far scarier things that were far more likely to kill her in the past and the fear she felt now wouldn’t be anything like that.
It turned out that those thoughts were wrong and this fear was exactly like that. Ann wasn’t one to freeze at danger anymore though.
The reason that Ann was trapped inside her own mind at that moment was, when going through all the possible emotional dangers of this visit, she hadn’t thought about the physical ones. Namely warding to stop anyone too powerful from attempting to breach the threshold.
She started to reach out with her mind a little, trying to feel for any cracks in the warding without alerting the person who set them she was doing so. Any shapes that weren’t perfectly regular, any lines that didn’t quite connect, any place where the magic wasn’t quite strong enough. She tried to extend her arm and found she could stretch it about halfway to the door. She smiled at that with it quickly turning into a grin when she realised that there was no resistance when she moved her mouth.
Ann could feel a little of the shape of the power when she reached out. It was unwavering and secure, exactly how warding magic should be, but she knew that if she felt a bit deeper there would have to be some way to make it crumble and
Huh. It feels like me, she thought. That’s weird.
And with that her ever so careful prodding of the house’s defences lost all subtlety while her subconscious took over in its ravenous hunger for answers.
She tried to reign it in as quickly as she could, take back control of the feelers she’d woven through the warding network, but if there are two things that don’t often work well together they are emotions and control.
A moment later a man was opening the door. He was about a head taller than Ann, in his mid thirties with bags under his eyes, accompanied by an air of annoyance which didn’t quite match a man greeting a dangerous fellow magician he’d warded his house to protect against.
Ann was frozen again but this time it wasn’t anything to do with the warding. There were a thousand versions of everything that could happen next filling the uncrossable space between them. Ann could see in the way the man’s eyes widened that he saw the impossibility of reaching out across that void of possibilities as well as she did. The movement drew attention to his eyes and away from the bags underneath them.
The irises were the same shade of blue as Ann’s own.
“Huh. You look like me.” She said, forgetting for a moment how inconceivable it was less than a moment ago to cross that chasm. “That’s weird.”
sketch batman ninja.
Excalibur, the legendary sword of King Arthur, was the mightiest weapon of that era. However, as time passed and mankind evolved, so did the sword. You work at a local antique shop when one day you discover something you don’t remember being there before: a rather peculiar looking pen.
The rawest line to ever be conceived, honestly.
Lucius Fox doesn’t really know Tim Drake.
Sure, he’s had an awareness of the boy’s existence for a while, but Lucius has an awareness of most things that happen in Gotham. That doesn’t mean that he needs to look into all of them.
Now Tim Drake is stood in Lucius’ office on slide thirty-two of a powerpoint on all the things Wayne Enterprises should be doing to improve their profit margins. Lucius takes a moment to regret not looking into Tim Drake.
How old is the boy? Ten? The suit makes him look adorable and tiny, the seriousness with which he discusses the company only heightens the effect. It all contrasts rather awfully with the hard logic coming out of the boys mouth and Lucius would consider putting his head in his hands if that wouldn’t mean missing some of the show.
His mind flashes to all of Tam’s pleas for a little brother and he wonders for a moment how much Jack and Janet Drake would miss their tiny genius.
“You’re not paying attention.” Tim snaps with a severity that he must have learned from Janet.
Lucius leans forward and makes sure he looks properly chastened because, really, he could have missed some good points.
“My apologies, please proceed.”
Tim gives a curt nod and launches into slide thirty-three.
people do NOT talk enough about the concept of bruce as a creator like??? two face??? joker??? himself???? the idea of him trying to make up for all his monsters by creating children vicious enough to fight them?????
If Mrs. Monroe, head of maths at Gotham Prep, had to describe Dick Grayson in one word it would be ‘prefect’.
If she were allowed two she would say ‘worryingly perfect’.
She didn’t keep up with the media storm around Bruce Wayne’s ward as it happened, but when she heard that the kid would be in her class she decided that she had better catch up with it. She reads about how the boy came from a travelling circus and how his parents died in an accident (or was it a murder? She isn’t quite sure). She reads that after coming from a working class background he’s just been placed with the richest man in the city during a particularly traumatic time. Everything she sees worries her to no end and as she walks in on Monday she braces herself for a boy to turn up made up of grief and fear for being in this strange, strange place that’s nothing at all like the circus where he grew up.
Instead, Dick Grayson walks into class seeming like a perfectly well adjusted young boy who she would never have guessed had endured anything particularly awful in his life.
All lesson she waits for him to slip up, to show that he’s going through something terrible. Then he doesn’t and she waits for the rest of the week. Then she’s left waiting for the rest of the month and, after that, the rest of the year.
Dick Grayson never slips up. He has plenty of friends, even though he never seems that close with them, he’s the best in her class, even though he never had formal schooling before, and he never seems at all out of place at Gotham Prep.
She’s mentioned it to the other teachers, that something about how good the kid is bothers her, but none of them seem to pick up on it. They all just offer testament to how well Dick’s getting on at Gotham Prep and how it just goes to show how much potential the boy has.
So Mrs. Monroe waits for Dick to slip up and tries not to worry too hard.
~
During the summer after Dick’s first year of school (having placed first in all his classes, naturally) Mrs. Monroe sees him outside of school for the first time.
It’s a nice day and her husband is away on business so she decides to take the time to go on a walk by herself. As she’s turning onto one of Gotham’s nicer streets she almost runs directly into Dick.
He’s with three other boys. They all seem older than him but it only surprises her a little since one of the many things on Mrs. Monroe’s list of ‘reasons why Dick Grayson is a very worrying boy’ is that he’s oddly mature for his age.
When Dick sees her he stops and smiles, and Mrs. Monroe can’t help but smile back.
“Hi Mrs. M,” he says. She notices that he’s leaning closer to the boys than he does with any of his school friends.
“Hello Dick. I hope you’re having a good holiday.”
“Totally Miss-” he starts, but then one of the boys, with brown hair and a confident gait, stops him by landing a heavy arm around his shoulders.
“Sorry to interrupt, but we’re having a boys night.” he says, “So we’ll just be on our way.”
The other three let out long-suffering sighs and Mrs. Monroe feels like she’s missing out on something.
“One, it’s daytime.” says another of the boys, black with close cropped blonde hair, “and two, the only reason the others aren’t here is because they’re actually having a girls night and kicked us out.”
The only one who hasn’t spoken yet nods seriously.
“Well I wouldn’t want to keep you,” answers Mrs. Monroe, not quite sure what else to say, “I’ll see you again when school is back in session, Dick.”
Dick nods happily while the rest of the boys wave goodbye to her and make their way onwards.
As Mrs. Monroe walks home she thinks about the encounter. She knows that none of those boys go to Gotham so they must be friends from something else. The way they had acted around each other though, well, she doesn’t think that she’s seen Dick that close with any of his friends at school.
Thinking about it, he’d seemed a little more human in that group. Less like the perfect student and popular kid he always was at school.
Whatever it was seemed good and after that encounter, Mrs. Monroe worries about Dick Grayson a little less.
cass doodle for fun
