Hester glanced up, a little confused, but this woman clearly seemed to see that she was doing something with her cards, so she smiled back, and shook her hand in return, careful not to scratch her with her fake nails.

“I’ll keep that in mind. Hester Blake. Haven’t I seen you around the Watchtower?”

Hui just shrugged, her bracelet jangling. “Probably. But I’m not usually that guarded, as it were. You enjoying town so far?” She seemed surprisingly cheerful, all things considered. “Either way, pleased to meet you. Always good to see some other odd folks around.”

Hester carefully returned the cards she’d drawn back to the deck, with the sort of ease that comes from a lot of experience with them. She shuffled them, then returned them to the pouch she kept them in.

“This town is great, so far. Just weird enough for my liking. I find the people pretty odd, too. What kind of weird are you, beyond trying to spook me about the fates?”

“The kind you’ll probably find at the Watchtower. Or wandering around the foothills if you need a consult. I’m...mostly independent.” She wasn’t gonna ditch the innuendo too much, this was still a public Cafe. “Still, it’s always good to see new people, they tend to have a lot of energy to throw at things. Especially in this town.”

Nevy nods and steps around the couch to shake. Their outfit today is almost staid, in contrast to their usual flamboyance: a pair of black slacks, a white button-up shirt, and a black vest. The only splash of color is a rose-patterned cravat ties around their throat. “That’s me.”

After shaking his hand, they rub their hands over their upper arms as if cold. “I’ve never… had something like this happen before. It’s… got me a little freaked.”

(edited version)

Harvey nods slightly and pockets the pen. “That’s understandable. Nobody expects these sorts of things to happen,” he said, trying to reassure the man without casting any aspersions which would lead Nevermore on. Nevermore was just throwing a party, and all of this went down.People didn’t want to be witnesses. But, here they were. “Follow me to the office. We’ll sit down and talk about it,” he said amicably. “But, honestly, being bothered by all this is fair. Violence bothers the head,” he said with a nod as he walked towards the door, leading the poet into a well lit office with almost as many windows as walls.

“Anyone would be a little shaken, still thanks for coming in. It makes things easier to sort out details before any of this gets to major legal action,” Harvey said as he pointed to seat while slowly pacing around the desk. “Have you ever had to give a legal statement before, Nevermore? I’m guessing the answer is no, but I want to make sure I’m not overexplaining.”

They take a seat. “I doubt changing my name counts,” they say with a weak laugh, “So no.”

Harvey nodded. “That’s very much a different thing. Basically, I’m going to set up a recording device. You’ll do most of the talking.  Then, I’ll transcribe it in a day or two, and then I’ll send you a copy to sign, agreeing that this is what we said,” he said, adjusting on of his gloves. “The big thing is that since you’re the primary witness, I’m going to keep questions short, and let you explain things in your own words.”

He scratched the back of his gloved hand, frowning a bit. “Which brings me to one thing. Normally, I don’t like to lead witnesses during initial prep, but,” he let out a slight sigh. “Before I begin recording things, I should ask: How did you see the fight end?”

Nevermore gives Harvey an assessing look.  “I saw…” The emphasis is mild but clear.  “…Sharon go in to slap Abigail, then Abigail doing some kind of judo move to throw her across the room.”  

Harvey nodded. “That’s a fair answer to an unfair question,” he said with a nod. “There may be certain other details you’re aware of, but in that regard, I’d trust what you told me to fare better in a court,” he coughed. “Sorry, I’m not usually this much for euphemisms,” He fidgeted with the glove again. 

“So, stick with what was seen, and not what you might’ve otherwise…noticed,” the tan man said, trying his best to not sound ominous. “Other than that, however, I’d like you to be clear with details in the rest of this.” 

Harvey pulled out a small microphone and tapped a few buttons on a laptop. “Testing, check, one two.” He hit the playback, and slightly tinnier version of his voice came out of the laptop. “Testing check, one two.” He smiled. “Do you have any other questions, before we start, Nevermore? I’d like to try and get a full report in one recording, if that’s okay.”

Nevy hesitates. “What kind of tone are we going for with this?” They say. “I’m usually fairly big on the blood and thunder and ‘orrible murther when I’m telling a story - melodrama, you know? - But I want to sculpt the telling to match the intent. Not changing the facts…” they interrupt themselves. “…Just how they’re told.”

Harvey considered the question. “Melodrama may not be the best approach, but be honest about your emotions. If you had a reaction to a given part of the events, acknowledge it. Don’t enflame, but don’t repress,” he said with a reassuring nod. “It’s a bit tricky, but try less to think about intent, and more about the specifics.” Harvey sat down slowly. They were the type to consider their language heavily, and that’d be a tough trick.

Nevy thinks for a few minutes, then nods. “Okay. Let me know when you’re ready.”

When cued, they begin. They tell the story of what happened in fairly good detail, moderately emphasizing how distressing the situation was. The wording is natural, but the enunciation is a touch more crisp than normal. They’re playing a role - the role of themselves.

Once they’re finished, they look at Harv with a touch of anxiety. “Good?”

“Honest and truthful. Very good,” Harvey said with a nod. looking over the recording on the laptop and saving it. “After I finish transcribing, I’ll send you a copy as well, and then you can sign some paperwork, and I’ll have a letter to wave in Sharon’s face, and her lawyers, since it will likely come to that.”

Harvey smiled as he watched the poet. “I know it might seem a bit much, but trust me. These small steps allows me to work with confidence on Abigail’s behalf. And yours,” he said with a nod. “After all, party crashers that go to blows so quickly aren’t really a great thing for you, either. A swift rebuttal can help with that. Of course, I figure a writer would catch it easy enough, just how much power a few words can hold, yeah?”

Nevy nods. “I just can’t believe she did that. How does someone even think that’s okay?”

Harvey made a noise that was a mix of “eccch” and “ugggh” in response.

“Some folks manage to go a long time without knowing the consequences of their actions. The kind of people who behave like that, are the kind of people the law should be used to protect others from,” he said as he slowly rose from the desk. “Don’t know if this will get her to consider her actions more, but maybe it’ll scare her back to reasonable levels of awful,” he then snickered a little. “And to be honest, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t enjoying it a bit. It’s fun to take on someone who really has it coming.”

“villain attempts to go back in time to kill superman as a small child, gets shot in the face by ma kent, who buries him behind the barn with the others” would probably have niche appeal as a comic but i don’t care, i want it

The first time a man from the future showed up at Martha Kent’s house, Clark Kent was two years old.

According to his birth certificate, anyway. She just kind of accepted that the details were a little fudged. Relativity, and all.

Maybe the stranger would have succeeded in whatever it was he wanted to do, except that he really did just show up. Appeared, like a ghost made flesh, right in the backyard. Clark, thank goodness, was out in the fields with Jonathan. He couldn’t bear to be alone, that boy, and they could never bear to leave him.

Which left Martha free to shoot the ghostly intruder in the face.

Martha had not always considered herself a shoot first, ask questions later sort of a person. But that was before she found a baby in a spaceship where her corn was supposed to be.

They’d switch off, Jonathan and her, who got Clark and who got the shotgun. Martha got the shotgun more often than not. Guns made her husband uncomfortable. She was hardly a fan, but she’d always been a terrible pacifist. Too determined to defend herself.

The sight of all that blood and brain and bone was still nauseating. She compartmentalized, told herself it was no different from slaughtering a cow; didn’t think about riot gear or tear gas or the friends she’d lost or all the things she’d moved away from when her heart couldn’t take it any longer. This was different. This was her son.

She prodded the corpse with her foot. It remained a corpse. A real nasty looking corpse, all big and burly and holding a gun much too large. She didn’t like making assumptions based on appearances, but she didn’t imagine he’d been coming for anything nice. She bent down to search his pockets, found a metal wallet and flipped it open.

Born 2018.

Well, hell. Wasn’t that just a kick in the pants?

Probably she ought to have been a bit more unsettled than she was. But she’d been waiting two years for someone to show up on her doorstep, men in black or UFOs or something. Hell, she’d half expected her sweet little boy to hatch into something worse.

Just because she brought home space babies didn’t mean she was a damn fool.

Jonathan had rejoined her in long strides, was holding Clark in such a way that he couldn’t see the corpse on the ground. “Well, shit,” he said.

“Eyup,” Martha agreed.

“Don’t look government.”

“Nope.”

“We burying him?”

“I’ll bury him,” Martha said, standing up. “You get Clark inside and read him a book or something. I don’t want him seeing any of this, getting him messed up in the head.”

“You sure? Looks heavy.”

“That’s why we have a wheelbarrow. I’ll stick him out behind the barn, might as well keep all our secrets in one place.”

Martha had a long time to think as she dug a time traveler’s grave. There were a lot of reasons someone might travel back in time trying to kill her kid. The first was her instinct as a mother, which was: he was a fucking asshole. Who killed a kid? Fucking assholes, that was who.

Now, it was also possible that her sweet little boy grew up to be some kind of space Hitler. She didn’t think she’d raise that kind of a kid, but she didn’t suppose there was any parent who set out to raise a Hitler.

Still didn’t sit right with her. She didn’t much like the idea of killing baby Hitler, either.

Keep reading

Nevy nods and steps around the couch to shake. Their outfit today is almost staid, in contrast to their usual flamboyance: a pair of black slacks, a white button-up shirt, and a black vest. The only splash of color is a rose-patterned cravat ties around their throat. “That’s me.”

After shaking his hand, they rub their hands over their upper arms as if cold. “I’ve never… had something like this happen before. It’s… got me a little freaked.”

(edited version)

Harvey nods slightly and pockets the pen. “That’s understandable. Nobody expects these sorts of things to happen,” he said, trying to reassure the man without casting any aspersions which would lead Nevermore on. Nevermore was just throwing a party, and all of this went down.People didn’t want to be witnesses. But, here they were. “Follow me to the office. We’ll sit down and talk about it,” he said amicably. “But, honestly, being bothered by all this is fair. Violence bothers the head,” he said with a nod as he walked towards the door, leading the poet into a well lit office with almost as many windows as walls.

“Anyone would be a little shaken, still thanks for coming in. It makes things easier to sort out details before any of this gets to major legal action,” Harvey said as he pointed to seat while slowly pacing around the desk. “Have you ever had to give a legal statement before, Nevermore? I’m guessing the answer is no, but I want to make sure I’m not overexplaining.”

If he noticed her at all, he probably realized that the snake skinned girl was aware of him seemingly from the moment he entered the over heated shop. The big man though, only looks up from his puttering when he hears the new entrant. Through the mask, fae eyes can see the glossy scales, algae green mixing with mud brown in tell tale anaconda patterns. He wipes greasy hands on the front of an old work tee amd strides forward gleefully. “ hello hello hello! Welcome to the junk yard! ” her greets with enthusiasm. At least the hovel is aptly named.

His voice is deep, rumbling and low like the movements of the continental shelves themselves, but full of merriment and good humor

Lo returns the grin, all smiles as he looks at the large reptilian fellow. Eyebrow and bear like smoke, but otherwise, a fairly subtle mien seems to follow him. He nods slightly to the quiet woman as well. “It’s a nice shop. Always good to find something new,” he said, bowing slightly, his voice sounding slightly ragged, yet still full of vigor. “I’m Lo. Pleased to meet you both,” he said with a nod. 

Lo eyed over the rather wide selection of assorted things, most of which might as well have been written in latin. A lot of parts from things he recognized, and significantly more from things he didn’t. Still, it was quite a collection. It beat quite a few of  the chop shops back home, for certain. 

Anton returns the slight bow, though it’s as unpolished add ti be expected from a fat American. “Well met, Lo! I’m Anton,” he touches his full chest, voice full of pleasure, and gestures to the silent, stone faced girl on the car shell. , “ and that ray of sunshine is my sister, Kharissa.”

There’s s pause, but the girl makes no acknowledgement, no smile or wave. Barely even blinks. “… she makes me look positively boring, I know. It’s a wonder we can stand each other.” He turns his focus back to Lo and claps thick hands together. “What can I do for you this fine day?”

Lo resisted a snicker. “Ah, but that is how it is with siblings,” he said with a nod. “My sister and I–well, we do have our ways of doing things,” he said with a shrug. “Oh, but here I am rambling. I’ve been told you do a bit of work in sculpture? I’m thinking of adding a conversation piece or two for my parlor,” he said with a nod. “The place needs some more decor.”

“I do!” Anton answers merrily, patting his hands happily on his rotund gut. “Are you interested in something made or something you see already?” Though looking around, most of the clutter here takes a much closer inspection to realize that the stacks and piles of junk arent just stacks and piles, but many of them are actually bolted or welded together in organized disarray. Though as Lo looks around himself, the car back end has been vacated and the sender, silent boa is nowhere to be seen.

Lo observed thoughtfully. “Not certain yet. That’s the thing about art, at least when you’re doing large decor. You don’t always know what you’ve found until you’ve tripped over it,” he said, making a hand gesture to nothing in particular. 

His eyes came across a…well, hmm. That was…he raised an eyebrow. “Huh. That is an an interesting way to use boat aluminum. Didn’t even know we had proper water scrap out here,” he said as he blinked. “You ever take to trawling, Anton? I had a friend back home, had a knack for diving,” he said with a smirk. “Not much of a dice player, though,” he shook his head and shrugged. 

“I love being on the water..” anton answers woth a warm breath of fond memory. “With or without a boat. There’s something calming about laying in all that silt. Cool and thick. .” It figures only a snake could be at his most poetic when talking about river sludge.

Anton glances at something past Lo’s shoulder and remembers himself. “Dice, you say?”

Lo nodded. “Yes, I’m more accustomed to oceans than deltas, but it’s nice to enjoy a cool breeze off the river now and again. And a good bit of fish doesn’t hurt, either,” he said with a nod. 

“Yes, I used to be a bit of a gambler to make a living back home. Still am,I suppose. Hence the parlor,” he said with a wide gesture before he hit something with the back of his hand. His eyebrows wrangled like clouds made of caterpillars fro a moment as he put two and two together. “Either I bumped into a scaled suitcase, or someone is very talented,” he said with a nervous smile.

I know there’s a lot of tension after Tumblr’s new policy annouced for December 17th, but reblog this if you aren’t leaving Tumblr so that other blogs can know they aren’t going to be completely alone!

I totally love the whole ruin-in-opulence look that pirate king type characters have going in media these days – all tattered silks and tarnished silver thrown together with no concept of style, a once-handsome face ravaged by excess and the elements, and every last inch caked with grime – but it kind of bugs me that, in general, only dudes get to rock that aesthetic. Some day I want to see an extravagant pirate queen who’s just absolutely filthy.

Like, you want romance? Here’s a romantic prompt for you: she invites you to her cabin, where a luxurious banquet of exotic viands from a thousand lands has been laid out – but all of it is stale and half-spoiled. She’s so accustomed to the maggoty rations and slimy water of shipboard life that she can’t even taste the rot, and she doesn’t have to worry about parasites because the ones she’s already got have grown entrenched and territorial, but for you it’s quite another story; to refuse her hospitality would be a deadly insult, so you’re just sitting there like “okay, what here can I eat without dying?”.

(I love how people are responding to this with “did you mean…?”, and then they post a picture of a pirate lady who, well, she’s got tousled hair and she looks kind of sweaty, I guess? Like, that’s definitely gesturing in the right direction, but “ever-so-slightly grodier than popular media customarily permits female characters to be” is not what we’re shooting for here. Basically, unless you feel like you need a tetanus shot just from looking at her, that’s not filthy enough!)

Weirdly enough, Vraska of the golgari kinda is the neat opposite of this. When she was doing her pirate thing, everything was neat and orderly. Now that she’s back to queen of the sewers, she’s wearing pseudo-victorian dresses made of fungi.

Yall really don’t even wanna watch the video, do you? That one line is misleading, but the rest is good. Her bill is about taking money away from shareholders and helping workers. It’s about saving the people who are trapped by capitalism, not the people who are controlling it.

https://nowthisnews.com/videos/politics/senator-elizabeth-warren-introduces-accountable-capitalism-act?jwsource=cl

It’s not misleading. She seeks to save capitalism from its ultimate collapse and abolition by offering meager concessions to the working class, in the same way that the new deal did. Thing is, capitalism is fundamentally exploitative and unjust, and it must be abolished in the higher interests of all humanity. People like Warren are enemies of that cause.

Far as I can tell, shes’ trying to create palatable solutions, while y’all are pontificating. You gotta better plan, then friggin’ execute.I prefer to not let an imaginary perfect be enemy to the good.

leaked set photo from the last jedi

THANK YOU FOR DOING THE LORD’S WORK AND LEAKING THIS TO US. 

day 1348 the birds still think I am one of them

#no you don’t understand#i went to skellig island years and years ago#long before it was ever in these movies#and the second i saw the island in the force awakens#i thought ‘what did they do to the puffins?’#because friends let me tell you#when i visited this island way back when#the entire fucking thing was covered tip to toe in puffins#nests of puffins in the rocks#puffins shitting from the sky#puffins swimming in the sea#it was a true island of the birds and not a damn person could hope to get a panorama without approximately 10000+ birds photobombing#how did disney edit out all the puffins#who was the puffin intern#important questions that need answers 

I’m stealing @humming-fly ‘s tags because I’m not original

The “porgs” were the solution, basically. Digitize the puffins into some merchandizable fuzzballs.

really glad the pandaren are getting some real content this expansion

This right here is how you monk.

OH I FORGOT. I SAW THE GREATEST CAR IN THE WORLD WHEN I WAS COMING BACK FROM THE JOB INTERVIEW I DID TODAY

I got the job I had interviewed for in this post and they started me at $13/hr and a guaranteed 20 hours a week thanks everyone for their support in the notes abt the job interview itself and no thanks to the people who said it was cursed

Reblog the X3 HEWWO car of career success. Reblog for a decent job

Ron just got his howler from his mom yelling at him for stealing the car. He seems super embarrassed and most of the Great Hall is laughing. But here’s the thing:

Ron is 12 years old.

Ron stole a car.

Ron fucking stole a fucking car at the age of TWELVE.

I would not be laughing at him. Ronald Weasley is a fucking bad ass. When was the last time you jacked a car Malfoy? That’s what I thought. Bitch.

Harry woke up at 3 am, wrote this, and went back to sleep.

New best reply.

The twins give him more shit about it than anyone else, because they have no idea how they’re supposed to top that level of dumb. “The Car? How do we outdo that? Do we have to swipe an entire train? Maybe a house?”

Congrats to Ninja fans, as you now have a commander. Thought I’ll note that like Derevi, activated abilities that circumvent the commander tax are flippin’ stupid. Hate this card already. (Source)

HEY EVERYONE HAVE YOU MET MY NEW WIFE

last time i did this my wish really came true. so im going to wish again

Alright, here goes nothin

ATTENTION COSPLAYERS:

I would like to make the paint brand “Angelus” known. It is a special paint that is for leather, faux leather, rubber, and similar surfaces.

This is literally the best paint you can buy if you love a pair of shoes, but they aren’t in the right color for your character.

This stuff coats VERY well AND the coats of paint bend with your shoes. This means no cracking!!

In the photos above I took black rain boots and painted them with Angelus Turquoise. As you can see, they don’t look black any more! It’s so good!

I managed to paint two boots with a little one ounce bottle of the paint, and I still have a third of the bottle left over!

The paint dries very fast, so you can put layer on top of layer on top of layer without it streaking.

You can get the paint on Amazon and it comes in every color!

I just really wanted to make this known!! :D This stuff is amazing!

https://angelusdirect.com/collections/paint

Don’t buy Angelus pain’t on Amazon, it’s like $6.99 an ounce. Buy it direct from their online store the poster above linked, the single ounce bottles are $2.95 there. Also, a little goes a long way, unless you have something HUGE to paint, you can probably do it with a small bottle. I barely dented the one I got doing all the black on this;

Things I wish I had known last year.

Wow. Good to know.

i dropped off my resume at this place at 1:15 and got called for an interview at 1:45 holy dang

Today I got interviewed, hired, and then given a dollar raise and a better store location because the interviewer “liked my attitude”

REBLOG FOR GOOD JOB GETTING KARMA COME ON GRAB A PIECE