DPXDC prompt. Field trip.
Some people would call gothamites petty, but given that most of the USA population treated them as scum, they believed that their behavior was justified.
They didn't like tourists, to put it mildly. Therefore, after learning that in their city were people on a field trip from Amity Park who could not leave Gotham for several days due to weekly escape from Arkham, the news channel immediately decided that a short interview from the guests would definitely amuse the locals. The reaction of outsiders never ceases to be ridiculous.
Reporter: ~Good afternoon~ Gotham News! May I ask you to share what you liked most about our wonderful city?
Mr. Lancer*still in a cold sweat and looks at every passerby as a potential villain*: Uh, no, me..It's so unexpected. Well, first of all, people here are very…
Danny *is high after the tasting samples Dr. Crane gave him for free and is extremely eager to share his happiness with others*,* picks a microphone*.
Danny: Gotham is the best city in the world! Like seriously, damn, I'd like to die here. Although there are constant shootings somewhere, half the time people don't even shoot at me! I haven't been this relaxed since middle school! And in the evenings, there is often such a pleasant scent of fear and despair on the streets. This fear toxin of yours is a real miracle! It's sooo good!
Sam *decides to take the initiative in her own hands before Fenton says too much*: Personally, I am very pleased with the number of green spaces you have in your city. It's nice to see that here eco-activists are really being listened to. Also, the fact that most restaurants have a thoughtful menu for vegetarians left a very pleasant impression.
Dash in his favorite T-shirt "it's not gay if he's dead": Four words. Hips of Red Hood. The fact that it is not marked in the guidebook as the main attraction of the Crime Alley is a real crime. This dude clearly never skips leg days. My respect.
Tucker: What can I say? The speed of internet here, even during villains attacks, is absolutely unbelievable. I don't want to leave this place.
Jazz: I love Gotham! Finally, I was able to buy all the works published by Dr. Harleen Quinzel. *girl picks up an impressive stack of books* For some reason, they are not available online.
The camera points at a red-haired guy with a twitching eye.
Wes: I'm 85% sure Bruce Wayne is Batman. I have a proof and I am ready to provide it.
A girl with a "Good Guess" pin from Riddler enters and takes camera away from conspiracy theorist.
Star: Sorry, he slipped out at night and went to look for problems. Again. Don't pay any attention to him. He's always like this when he drinks more than two energy drinks in a row.
me: haha oh god this is so bad im making so many unsupported claims and pulling all this analysis out of my ass
my prof in the margins: excellent analysis!
me:
Harry uses AK 4 times and becomes haunted by a young Tom Riddle
Read more
crying she and cake did not gaf that he lost his fiance when they saw that video
also little shitpost comic i made based on this theory/speculation
This is the start of the resulting fic from the winning poll option of 'Crime Boss is a Dangerous Job'. And boy did it go places.
A solid 40 of you wanted to wait for ao3, but the other 59 are feral gremlins who want a part now! Those who want to wait, don't feel pressured to read. This might be up on ao3 this week or if not then next week! (Yes, that doesn't add up to 100, one vote is me so I can see the poll results.)
wc: 1059 Content Warnings: canon typical violence, blood, blood drinking, mentions of death and dying, brief mentions of human tracking, so much cussing.
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Brainless motherfuckers.
Every single one of them, brainless motherfuckers.
One would think that eight heads in a duffel bag would have been enough.
One would think that people would learn his fucking rules. They were easy rules. Don’t hurt kids. Don’t sell to kids. Don’t hurt sex workers. Don’t traffic people. Don’t fuck with him.
And these motherfuckers had fucked with him. They had fucked with his rules.
Red Hood stared down at the lifeless eyes of the traitorous lieutenant.
Ex-lieutenant.
Brainless motherfucker.
Hood was insulted that someone that incompetent had managed to make him bleed, even if it had been eleven against one. And fuck if he wasn’t bleeding badly. Hood pressed his hand tighter to his wound with a hiss and let himself slump back against the grimy wall of the ally that he had slunk into. His hand became wet with warmth.
He must have already bled through the hasty field bandage that he had slapped on the wound.
Numbers slipped through Red Hood’s foggy mind as he tried to calculate about just how bad of a fact that was— about how heavily he must be bleeding out. Fuck if he wasn’t bleeding out.
Could he make it to his safe house in time? No. Could someone make it to him in time? Maybe, but who could he call? He wasn’t going to turn around and let another lieutenant stab him in the other side. B— maybe it would be better to just bleed out than deal with B and another lecture. As if this hadn’t been in self defense. As if he hadn’t acted to stop kids from being sold. As if a moment of hesitancy about killing a man he’d been working closely with for a year had been what got Hood in this spot.
And Dick was off world.
Dick was always off world when he needed him.
That wasn’t fair. What did Dick owe him? It’s not like they had ever been family. Dick had never wanted him. The last person who had wanted him didn’t even want him enough to stay sober.
Blood loss made him maudlin, apparently.
Dying by explosion had been easier.
“You know, not what I expected to find dumpster diving tonight.”
Hood’s hand dropped to brush over the grip of his gun. It was up and aimed before his head even had time to lull towards the voice. The hand holding the gun was steady even as his vision swam staring down the sight.
“Not that I’m doubting you can use that, Boss, but would rather you didn’t,” the stranger said, hands up in the air. One large duffel sat at their feet. Another smaller duffel was slung over their back. A hoodie at least three sizes too big swamped the slim figure— hiding both their form and face. The steel toed boots looked comically large at the end of stick thin legs.
Hood knew better than to think they weren’t a threat.
Anyone could be a threat in Gotham.
“Really, Boss, I’m just out here dumpster diving for supplies,” they continued, motioning to the warehouse district around them. “Not going to lie and say I won’t happily loot your corpse if you keel over right there, but would rather you stay breathing. I can help with that, if you let me.”
“And if I say no?” Hood asked, his voice a breathless rasp even through the modulation of the helmet.
“If you say no to the help, I’ll just be on my way. There are other dumpsters to go through like the feral raccoon that I am.”
His arm dropped down to hang limply at his side. He didn’t take his finger off the trigger. He shouldn’t trust this stranger. “Look more like a street rat to me.”
“We’ll compromise to possum then,” they said, slowly lowering their arms.
He shouldn’t trust this stranger. Did it mater if he did?
He was bleeding out.
The gun slotted back into its holster.
“There you are Boss, we’ll get you patched back up.”
Hood blinked. They were tucking themselves under his shoulder, leaning him up off the warehouse wall.
Hood blinked. They were disabling security on a heavy, cast iron door set into a concrete floor.
Hood blinked.
“Not going to lie, Boss, you’re in a bad way.” The words were distant— like listening to them through a thick wall. Static ran under the words. Static that burrowed under his skin and into his blood.
Static that burned at a part of him he tried to ignore.
“Think they got something pretty vital with that knife.”
He didn’t want to burn.
“Stitched you up but…”
He didn’t want to die.
“Oh Boss.”
Not again.
“I know, Boss.”
A cold hand brushed over his temple and he couldn’t hold back the whine at the sensation. He strained to arch up into the touch. He wanted it. He wanted to feel. He didn’t want to slip away again. He didn’t want that void of death. He didn’t want to die again.
The voice shushed him. “I know.”
He trembled. The static sang in his veins.
“There’s something I can try, Boss, but it will change thing.”
Things were always changing.
“Not like this. You’re not on the knife’s edge yet. You’re still living. If you die you right now you tip over to the other side.”
He’d done that before.
“I know, Boss. But if we do this, you’re not going to tip over anymore, you’re going to balance on that knife’s edge. Not dead but not alive. It’s a fine line to walk.”
Everything in his life was a tightrope: hero, villain; son, enemy; brother, stranger. What was one more thing? Alive, dead.
He didn’t want to be dead again.
“Okay, Boss, okay.”
The hand pulled a whine from his throat as it moved away. A soft coo hushed him quiet again. The sound rumbled in with the static untill the soothing noise sat inside him.
His head tilted up as something slid under his neck. Hands guided his head to lay back down onto a soft surface.
Something wet dripped against his lips. Spice bloomed across his tongue.
“There you go, Boss,” the voice soothed. The coo rumbled in his chest like a fluttering bird. “Drink up.”
Cold skin and wet warmth pressed against his lips.
Jason drank.
This idea is AMAZING too
This theory adds onto to a few other popular ones, that being Eve is Alastor's dealmaker under the guise of Lilith, and Eve is the cryptic "Roo." What I propose alongside that, is that she's hiding in plain sight among the hotel guests, and that disguise is Nifty.
Evidence:
When you think about her in conjunction with the show's established themes it falls into place: Adam, the s1 antagonist is a misogynist who wanted Lilith's obedience. Eve will foil Lilith; while she's all about hating subservience and breaking chains, Nifty is a parody of the stereotypical 50s housewife, 'likes being forced' and spends her time cooking, cleaning, and obsessing over men. Eve was created from Adam's rib to ensure his next wife would lack the autonomy to rebel. Designed to be the epitome of Adam's submissive ideal, it makes sense Eve would choose a 50s housewife as her disguise, they resonate with her.
The old logo is her face / her and Lucifer's placement on the prime cover.
She collects little pieces of men because that's what she was made from / is enamoured with Pentious in particular because he's a snake. "never leave me again" <- double meaning alert. / "HATED THAT SONG" because she was never offered forgiveness so easily. Not even Charlie catching her in the trust fall is foreshadowing; unlike Lilith who had Lucifer, no one came to her side when she committed the original sin.
The all-female exorcists were made by Adam to serve him. Their masks have horns like Lilith and a missing eye like a cyclops. They're hybrid clones of the two wives that left him. Eve is the only character in the intro whose eyes we haven't seen.
Every large ensemble show has a mole arc and she's the only one with no established goals. It's always the one-note gag characters you should look out for.
There's no confirmation if Nifty made a deal with Alastor. I think Eve is the one who's got him 'on a leash' though he thinks it's Lilith. He lets Nifty follow him around and she plays up the fangirl persona to keep a close eye on him.
It's the perfect refuge in audacity disguise. Acting innocent in hell in suspect. Being an unhinged stalker raises no questions. Alastor himself says he has no idea what tf her deal is.
I made this theory a few days ago but I was delighted to see more evidence in the final episode. See this?
It's elaborate foreshadowing disguised as a gag. She's not just doing this for the funsies she is MAD mad. Vengeance!
Conclusion:
Whether this means she's the big bad or unlikely ally, I can't say. If it's the former, her goal is to be redeemed with the other guests and enter heaven so she can get revenge on everyone else. S1 leans heavily into heaven vs hell so it would make sense for the final antag to be a 3rd party wildcard who wants to burn both sides to the ground for failing her. Heaven casted her out, hell unintentionally doomed her to an eternity of suffering with the fruit of knowledge, then left her.
Nifty be Shifty.
Gotham has a Waffle House that has been almost untouched for a few months now. Sure there have been a few fights inside, but that's no big deal. The big deal is that their cook has stopped plenty of attacks from robbers and even well known rogues.
Many of the staff and regulars also believed that the same cook was also a cryptid of some kid with how quiet he is, how cold his presence is, and how he seemed to just appear out of nowhere with no sound being made. But who cares? His waffles are the bomb.
Danny is thankful for the steady night job, but would very much appreciate it if the Bats stopped watching him through the windows.
The facility manager returns to the hotel 🏨
some storyboarding techniques as a sequel to my storyboarding basics presentation. I focus specifically on tips for action and conversation scenes!
as always, these are general tips and tricks, but rules can always be broken. happy boarding! ✍️✨
Send me asks about Headcanons. I'll talk your ears off.
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