Earth-3 Red Hood | aceinthehood | Batman: Brave and the Bold


Music Meister | hypnotic_patter | Batman: Brave and the Bold


Sgt. Andrew Carter | stlg13bomber | Hogan's Heroes


Abe Sapien | bprd_fishman | Hellboy (movie series)


Alice/Pretender | fleshydisguise | Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen


Alice Lidell | queensbane | Alice: Madness Returns


Tyrell Badd | tasteoftruth | Ace Attorney Investigations: Miles Edgeworth


Hermes | eightlazylegs | OC (octopus)


Vladik Norokov | jungiangarden | Psychonauts OC

I've been a bit derelict in getting these posted, business and mental instutions and crime and so on, but better late than never. Unless you're Temple Fugit, I suppose. Here is the set from Halloween weekend, one of the few non-convention times I can go out in full regalia and not be accidentally arrested.

( It's nice to get a little appreciation once in a while. )

Title: The Unusual Origins of Kay Faraday (1/?)
Fandom: Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney
Pairing/characters: Byrne Faraday/Tyrell Faraday, brief appearances by Kay Faraday and Yanni Yogi
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Pregnancy
Author’s Note: Taken from a prompt on the kink meme. I…may have taken a few medical liberties here. In my defense, the canon's not much better. Looking at you, walking around just dandy after years-long coma prosecutor.

( Go mpreg go )

Title: You All Meet in a Cell
Fandom: Batman (1960s TV Show)
Characters: Riddler, Penguin, Catwoman, Joker
Warnings: None.
Summary: The future Underworld United gets acquainted.
Author’s Note: Originally written for harleyquinn1517’s birthday, in infirmity no less. I am playing around with 'traditional' canon a little, since backstory's very rare in show canon and what little we do get often contradicts commonly accepted Batcanon. Also the parachute thing? True story.

( I'll get to queer_fest when I feel like it, okay? )

It does my heart good to see pretentious twaddle ripped to shreds by an entire comm.

I'm a writer because I write. It has nothing to do with whether I've created an arbitrary amount of pages, put out an arbitrary amount of blood-sweat-and-tears, or convinced someone to publish my work. And it certainly has nothing to do with whether my output is fanfic or not.

On the other hand, found my evening's entertainment. If this shit doesn't make it to fandom_wank I will be severely disappointed.

I've been contemplating developing a vice.

I have a sort of money neurosis that tends to heavily influence my daily functioning. Imight write more on it later, but the tl;dr version is that the spending of any amount of money, no matter how small or if it's even mine to begin with, bothers me. Certainly at this point I've got a very low income with only a few prospects in sight. I've got savings and my parents have assured me I won't starve....but the neurosis doesn't actually care how much money I have access to. I've caught myself trying to avoid eating too much for dinner because food is expensive.

Hence, for my mental health, I need a vice. I think I may go with coffee shops. There's at least two within a five minute walk of my place. One's a slightly artist/hipster place, with gorgeous drawings all over the bathroom walls and big soft armchairs to sit in. The other's a bit more geared towards the older couple crowd, with an actual fountain in the place, and the waiters will refill your coffee cup the moment you set it down on the table. Still debating which one I prefer more, but both tend to have absolutely gorgeous clientele. Good for writing, too, or an excuse to get myself reading. I've been enjoying Lord of a Visible World, an autobiography of H. P. Lovecraft created by putting together transcripts of his letters.

If I can encourage myself to spend the money on a small breakfast or a bottomless cup of coffee, it might help my spirits.

Title: Puzzles and Masks
Fandom: Batman (1960s TV Show)
Characters: Riddler, OC (canon immigrant)
Warnings: References to depression, massive amounts of ham.
Summary: The one riddle Batman cannot solve is the one he doesn’t even know is there.
Author’s Note: If it exists there is fic of it, even if I have to write it myself. This started as a joking attempt to explain why every female minion in Gotham seems to want to ride the Batpole, and ended up a dark psychological analysis of characters from show that brought us Shark Repellent Bat-Spray and a villain obsessed with eggs. My brain likes to latch onto odd things.

( Consider it an exercise in getting my groove back. )

So on a lark and because harleyquinn1517 has been getting me back into Batman again, I've been watching the 1960s Batman TV show. The show as a whole is good for Narm Charm and unintended hilarity, but in typical myself fashion I've become completely fixated on Frank Gorshin's portrayal of the Riddler.

He's hardly what most of us would think of as the 'traditional' Riddler, but years in the Transformers fandom has made me good at compartmentalizing different versions of similar characters. To more modern sensibilities he comes across as a cross between the goofier versions of comics Riddler and a less psychotic version of the Joker. Most of his riddles are more about wordplay than intellectual strain (though their relevance to current events can only be deduced with Batman's Insane Troll Logic free association) and there's an intense playfulness to his schemes. In "Death in Slow Motion" he does an entire Charlie Chaplin routine as a distraction for stealing a pittance of cash and dropping off his first riddle. Necessary, no. Awesome, yes.

He later walks into a bakery and pies the employees in the face. There are legitimate reasons for this. Fact remains that he thought it up.

It doesn't hurt that Riddler's the walking definition of a manic state. He's constantly bouncing off the walls, giggling, running off into passionate monologues, creating bizarre plans which he is extremely enthusiastic about and on rather unusual occasions making out with his own hands. Swap the shopping sprees with crime sprees and you've basically covered every DSM syndrome that would make it past the sixties censors. Much of this is of course due to Gorshin's acting, which gives us a wonderfully expressive character who can't seem to stand still for more than five seconds.

Also, kinky as heck. I'm not even kidding. No guy who doesn't have some manner of bondage fetish would be that gleeful about playing around with medieval torture/bondage equipment. That sensibility in the context of the sixties (especially such a mindblowingly Wholesome place as Gotham City), combined with the potential manic-depression, just makes me itch to get inside his head.

One of these days I will stop trying to overanalyze trivial or minor characters from shows that gave little thought to the 'verse they were creating. BUT TODAY IS NOT THAT DAY.

Much wtfery at Staldog 13 yesterday. During the beginning of the break period (basically lunch/naptime for the dogs and cleaning/checking texts time for us) someone did a ditch and run with a pair of beautiful pitbulls. As I understand it he walked in, asked Dog Sub-Commander if we "had room for two more" (she interprets it to mean that he thought we were a shelter) and when she'd turned her back he'd disappeared and left the dogs behind. So we had two pit bulls, no contact information, no tags. Not even their names, and certainly no vaccination records or idea if they'd been sterilized or not. And no idea what we're supposed to do because we don't know if the guy's coming back.

I have never heard Dogboss swear so much. Not even when Napoleon had to go to the hospital and we all stayed out in the yard extra long so we wouldn't have to go be in his presence. I can hardly blame him, it's the equivalent of dropping babies on our doorstep. We could wait to see if the owner came back, but we couldn't keep them. Dogboss fed and watered them and then crated them in the basement. They seemed friendly enough but since we had no idea about their past we couldn't trust them around the other dogs. They were dubbed Blue and Chola because Dogboss decided they needed gangster names.

About at my quitting time (while I'm down in the basement sweeping because we're all trying desperately to find some little chore to do so we're not sitting idle around the boiling caldera that's our current employer), the owner showed up again. I came topside and he was holding them by their leashes, giving the life story on the dogs and his other dogs to the rest of the employees. Everyone was awkwardly nodding and smiling because the guy was acting like he was so desperate to talk that he'd go off even at us. He looked like he'd just gotten done crying. When he'd shown up he was still in tears.

I stuck around until he left so I could ask everyone wtf happened. As far as we could make out, he'd gotten under a lot of stress (I missed the specifics but infidelity had been in there somewhere) and just dropped Bones and Ahleah off at what resembled an animal shelter. He really had planned to leave them there permanently. But he'd gone off, had a breakdown out of regret, and came back about 45 minutes later to reclaim them.

The dogs were friendly and in apparent good health, and he seemed to really care about them, and he gets points for coming back when a lot of people wouldn't. The guy had problems and he knew it. I just hope it works out for the three of them cause...what the hell, man.

It has not been a good week at Staldog 13.

Before I showed up yesterday, one of the newer dogs had been shut up in a crate in the basement. Standard practice if it's lunchtime and we're out of crates upstairs. Unbeknownst to us, the dog was also a neurotic mess and clawed at the crate tray until she'd worn her nails down--and then kept going. When my coworker got down there, it apparently looked like someone had killed a small animal inside that crate.

So everyone was already a little strung out when I showed up for my shift. About ten minutes after my arrival, we start taking the mass of dogs out back to do their dog business. Pretty standard practice. Take out some dogs, come in for more dogs, go outside with more dogs, and WTF a puggle's just slashed half his ear open. Blood all over the yard and someone had to rush him down to the dog hospital so he could get stitches. The worst part is that we couldn't even figure out what happened, since it's a clean cut (and if it was a fight we'd hear it), and there's blood everywhere but not in a pattern that would indicate what he cut it on. They brought him back in the evening with a cone, a bandage around his head, and a very mournful expression.

After the ear incident we spent double time out in the backyard (in the cold). Part of it may have been that Dogboss was inside, being stressed, and nobody wanted to be in the same building as him. He didn't yell at anyone as far as I know, bur you could see how stressed he was. We're fortunate the dog's dad was understanding.

So I come in today and due to some schedulefuckery we wind up again doing double time in the backyard, which was not only unpleasant but played merry hell with my worsening cold. When we came back inside a bunch of notes got passed out to each of us--edicts and reprimands from the Dogboss. These included the following paraphrased statements:

1) If you are caught reading a book or newspaper on duty, you will be fired.
2) If you show up more than five minutes late, ever, you will be sent home and fired.

I'm not sure if that's technically legal and I have a feeling the former's only going to apply when Dogboss is in the building, but it still shook me up a lot. I get why he did it, but it's rather harsh.

So I am so, so grateful that I have the next few days off to recuperate.