clockways — Today at 2:01 AM
OKAY Danny/Tim where Danny is either ghost king or working for Clockwork or playing Reaper or something showing up to talk to Tim like "MY DUDE, you have got to stop killing so many people, even if it's in the name of good, esp when they're surrounded by rancid ectoplasm"
And this is now the Bats learn about Tim's LOA kill count
Hey everyone! I made a Telegram channel for posting art and stuff as an alternative. Check it out if you are interested!
link: t.me/chesschireart
Ok so my world geo teacher is pretty much done with us. These are a few things he's said and done:
This is only some of the shit that's happened so far, and this class has me wheezing.
More teacher quotes from this dude:
When more stuff happens I'll update this. Honestly this dude is my favorite teacher
Stupid idea I’ve been rolling around for Owl House. @anastasian-dreamer I blame you for pointing me at the story.
The smoke inhalation had a lasting toll on the ghost of Jason Todd. The glowing green throat showing his death mark also made him incapable of speech.
Rage burned inside him, like the burning of his lungs in his last moments. His lungs still burned, though he no longer had need for breath. They felt like glowing embers in his chest, and as he looked down, he could see a flickering glow peaking between his ribs
It had hurt to die, and death had not taken that away from him. He still hurt. Death had taken that pain, that rage and made it part of him.
He opened his mouth to scream, but no sound escaped his lips. All that came out was smoke
Bones has done it again. Made my brain go into overdrive.
When Jason came back from the dead, he came back wrong. He was wrong before the dip in the pit and he was more wrong after. The pit did fix some things, like his lungs and his throat.
He didn't remember much from the time in-between his death and struggling to the surface of the too-thick water of the pits, sputtering and spitting rancid ecto as his lungs burned and his breath tasted like ash and smoke. He didn't remember much, but he remembers a voice, kind and patient as he explained-something, maybe everything. It was like a dream, where you wake up and only remember the feelings. The voice felt safe and sad and angry in equal measure.
He remembers the burning in his throat and chest, though that never quite went away, even after the pit.
He remembers trying to form words and them getting caught in his throat. Stuck there and burned until only the smoke of them came out of his mouth. That part did go away after the pit.
For a bit.
The city is under attack and none of the heroes are lifting a finger in its defense. So this leaves you and the other villains to defend it, because there is nothing for a villain to do in a smoldering ruin and trashing the city is your job damnit!
I would like to start by saying that I am not a hero.
I am a villain. One of the best, or the worst, depends on how you look at it.
A list of my crimes would be at least a mile long. I have been on the FBI most wanted list since I made my debut. People run at the sight of me.
So can anyone explain why the ever loving fuck am I, along with the 8 other supervillains, risking our lives to defend the City instead of those attention-seeking heroes who are supposed to be the ones protecting the damn place!?
"On your left." Banshee cried out.
I quickly grabbed a helpless citizen in the incoming wave of destruction and dodged right.
Banshee struck her modified guitar, letting out a concentrated blast of pure sound directed at the weird flying creatures that suddenly descended upon the city a few days ago.
"Great aim, Banshee." I yelled, giving her a thumbs up.
"Roger said he is running low on ammo." She sent out another sound blast. "Can you get more from the Doc to him?"
"Am I a glorified taxi now?" I asked as I shot the creature creeping from behind her with my solar flare beam.
"Sorry." She didn't sound sorry at all. "But the robot got a little banged up on the way back from dropping off the last batch of evac. You are on errand boy duty for now."
"Fine. After I get this kid to the base."
I turned to the frightened teenager who was holding onto me for dear life.
"Any injuries anywhere?" I asked, "And don't lie if you are hurt, you need to get treated now or else you would be a burden on people."
They shook their head.
"Good. Was there anyone else with you?"
"No. My parents were on a business trip. I wonder if fhey are okay."
"We are going to get you to Leonardo's island. Hopefully, the Doc can get Clawton up and working by tonight. Since everything looks fine, let's go. We will get you checked out when we get there."
I started jogging away from the battle and the kid followed me.
"Leonardo?" They questioned.
"Oh. You know him as Doctor Malice. Turns out he is the only one of us whose heavily fortified island lair is still fine after the first wave of attack. We have been using it as a base shelter since this whole shitshow started."
By some miracle, I came across an abandoned convenience store that still hadn't be throughly ransacked yet. I got out the bag I carried around just for this exact occasion and handed the spare to the kid.
"Here you go."
"What's this for?"
"Supplies. Usually, I would tell you not to steal but dire times. So start grabbing things and fit in as much as you can into that bag."
"I really thought you of all people would encourage stealing."
"If people are desperate, sure. They have to do what they can to survive. However, I don't want a kid like you to get thrown in jail. They don't treat people like humans there." I answered as I cleared out the cup noodle aisle.
There was a bit of silence as we both packed as much as we could.
"Are we going to be okay?" They asked.
"Probably not."
"That's not reassuring."
"The pretty lies are for heroes. If you want to hear them, go to them."
"If they are ever coming." They muttered.
I said nothing as I used my light powers to flash the twi of us to Doctor Malice's island.
I directed the teenager where to go and one of the civilian volunteers took our bags of supplies while another checked over the kid.
As I was leaving, I heard them called out, "Wait! Suneater."
I turned around.
"What do you need, kid?" I asked.
"Sir, I just want to say thank you. For saving me."
"Kid, what did I say? I am not a hero. Save the thanks for them."
"But you are the one who saved me."
"Since the city is a fucking mess, someone has to make sure it is still standing after all of this is over. It's my job to trash it after all."
They gave a small laugh.
The kid thanked me again before following the volunteer to the med bay.
I sighed as I walked away. People who once cowered at my presence greeted me and made small talk like I was one of them.
My one-worded answers didn't seem to phased them as I continued on my way.
Seeing their faces being happy at the sight of me rubbed me the wrong way. I am supposed to be the bad guy. Why am I the one playing hero?
The truth would probably hurt the people who believed too much in the promises that the 'Heroes' would swoop in and save the day. Doctor Malice had managed to track one of the Heroes down and accidentally stumbled upon the secret hidden base that they all were using to ride out the so-called apocalyse.
The more morally-righteous ones were all dead.
Shield Knight, Madam Mythic, Pause-Play, Nighthawk, Lady Lapis, Biodiverse, Dome, Purple Quiver, Flame-Man. There were a few dozen of them dead, trying to save people as much as they could since the day the creatures appeared.
I recognised their names. They were the truly good ones. The type of heroes that stood up and believed the best in the worst of us. The ones that used their connections and positions to help out the poor and the needy. The ones that opposed the new reforms the government impose on the heroes. Where they would be paid more in exchange for using their powers for military purposes.
It was too much of a coincidence that any good villain know that something was off and lo, behold, we were right.
Their deaths were mostly likely planned. All of them died in circumstances with the most disadvantages against them.
Nighthawk was unable to maneuver in tight spaces due to his large wings and he died in a collapsing building. Lady Lapis was found dead in the middle of Arizona and far from the nearest water source which she needed for her hydro telekinesis.
All of them were dead.
...well almost all.
I entered the Doctor's lab and Pause-Play greeted me as Doctor Malice worked on a prosthetic leg on the next table over.
"Roger's ammo bag is over there." Pause-Play pointed. He was looking chipper for a man who had lost a leg a week ago.
"Thanks." I grunted out as I grabbed it. I looked at him and I realised something.
"Pause-Play?"
"Yeah."
"You and Lady Mythic are married."
"Yes... I mean I freaked out and accidentally revealed the fact that we are. You were there."
Pause-Play was found with a crushed leg while Lady Mythic had been unconcious from a head injury and currently in a coma.
He had been initially wary of us. For a good reason.
But once he saw Roger and Frostbite in action saving a few people and Banshee's little speech of us being on the same side since the world had down to hell, he was more open to trust us.
"Did you guys have a kid?"
There was momentary pause before he asked, "Why?"
"I saved a kid today. Looks just like you but had eyes like Mythic. I thought it was a coincidence they had eyes that looks like gold. They were pretty worried about their parents. Who are on a business trip apparently."
There was relief in his eyes. His shoulders loosened as if a great worry had been lifted.
"Is she alright?" He hesitantly asked.
"She should be in med bay to be checked out." I replied.
After a minute, I added, "My room is three doors down from yours. I have a few spare civilian clothing I don't use in my closet. Might be a little big on you but should be enough to have you looking decent."
"I will keep that in mind." Pause-Play give me a smile.
I just nodded before I flashed back into the hell zone.
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musicfeedsmysoul12
meepmoopmaap
This is probably like my favourite comic ever made in the world i think
He’s literally worse than the joker
