phaineofcatz | Recent Entries

“Give…Me…Back…MY…SWORD!” Robin says between yanking at the weapon. He has the hilt in both hands as he pushes against the wall with his feet in a comical attempt to dislodge the weapon that, to all appearances, is just stuck to the wall by nothing.

“So like, I don’t want your sword, you can totally have it back, just like, don’t point it at my face please?”

“I will use my weapons how I see fit! And you are a suspect in an ongoing investigation!” Hood should probably be putting a stop to this, but it’s just too funny watching Robin eat crow and he can’t stop laughing. Orphan seems more concerned than amused, but can’t decide who to back in this stalemate between children.

“I’m not asking you to promise not to use the sword on me, like, you may have to cause like…anyway, just like, promise not to point it directly at my face?”

“FINE, I will not point it directly at your face.”

“Okay, like, stop pulling so hard a sec, I don’t want to drop you.” As Robin begrudgingly puts his feet back on the ground color returns to the weapon and it comes loose as easily as if it’d never been stuck.

Hood manages to stop laughing long enough to ask, “Alright ‘Phaine’, what even is that, you have some sort of shadow powers?”

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Current Mood: happy

Oracle had worked with emergency services to reroute power to the district quickly, but the Bowery is a decade or two behind the rest of Gotham when it comes to infrastructure. It was only because Red Hood had already been tracking a new player in the area who was buying up quick muscle that he had a pretty good guess as to where the problem started. Normally he’d have told the rest of them to stay to their regular patrols and leave this to him, but people in this neighborhood could be ignored for days without Oracle stepping in to guide the effort.

But the more information he shared with Oracle to get the slums back up and running, the more interference he could expect. He could hear the bat mobile screeching around a corner a few blocks away even before he made it to the old industrial building. No chance of getting in and resolving the situation before they showed up then.

But maybe he had something else he could do. From a nearby roof he could see the backside of the building had goons flooding out of it, shouting something about a girl. That seems like as good a start as any.

“Oracle, the bat’s already here, I see goons chasing some-”

Gunshots ring out through the night air.

“Yeah, dealing with whatever that is”

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Current Mood: energetic

Suddenly everything is dark and sideways.

She can’t see but she can hear, and there are voices. Male voices. Not boys, but full grown men, and lots of them. Shouting in the shadows all around her. Flashes and beams of light start up, and one man’s voice is commanding above the others, getting them organized, telling them to get light onto ‘the platform’ wherever that is.

The beams cast around and seem to be converging…here! Whatever the platform is, she’s standing on it!

She leaps further back into darkness, but not fast enough to keep the light from giving away her presence. “There is something on the platform! I need it at all costs! Get more light in here! Blasted power outage!”

Who even talks like that? ‘Blasted’ what is this a cartoon?

Her eyes are starting to adjust to the dark now and the flashlights are making the ‘platform’ she’s stumbling around on more visible. Oh boy, she sure hoped this is some sort of prank, because the platform is a mess of wires, smoking circuits, and runes she doesn’t have time to read. Whatever they spell, “get the hell off this thing” is what she was getting out of the situation.

The men are closing in on her now. Looming shapes in the dark with beams of light approaching more quickly than she’s comfortable with. And she’s stuck out in the middle of open darkness without much of a clue where to go.

Well, one clue where to go...

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Current Mood: tired

For forty years, not a single member of our system has liked to write anything but code and comics. Not a one. We love stories, don't get me wrong, but we always told them with our voice or pictures or games. Three months ago a new member popped up in our system(probably cause shit's fuuuucked). She's young and emotional, but all she wants to do is listen to music, tell stories, and feed crows(I am not joking about that last one, we saw a crow while driving and she made us cry cause we didn't have unsalted peanuts on hand!)

She starts writing. She loves writing. Just about every time she comes close to the front she tries to write at least a little. Short stories? No, forget that, she's 50 pages into a novel. What's it about you ask? It's a mary-sue, self-insert, isekai into a fanfiction, coming of age, superhero story.

Sweetheart. Babygirl. My precious little pretender. Are we getting all the writer cannon events out of the way at one time? It's not a race love, you can take you time.

Anyway, I thought this would be a short lived thing, but she just keeps writing more and asking me to do the editing. So I will at least try and edit the first little bit into a post, maybe I will eventually get the whole thing into a form I can post. (She literally used our full government name and name dropped family members, like, child, get it together, we can't post that...)

TL;DR: This is a warning. If you followed us for silence, now's you chance to unfollow before we start posting cringy high schooler level stories.

Current Mood: amused

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