PARA STYLE, BELPHEGOR/GOKUDERA, KATEKYO HITMAN REBORN, 2007

The dull thump against Belphegor's head barely even registered for him at first, besides bringing him out of the whirl of unconsciousness that had pulled him down for so long. But as his consciousness rose

Well, he was awake now. He didn't move at first, just taking stock. His body felt slightly better after its forced rest, his breathing easier, the bright pain in his shoulder faded to a dull ache. Something still twinged in his chest, though, a cracked rib maybe, or his breastbone. Something there was off.

Something could be done about that. At the moment, he'd had a rock thrown at his head. Not hard, so he figured it wasn't quite an aggressive action, but it meant that the bomber bastard was still here. Either that or one of their teammates, but it felt like only one person nearby.

Not aggressive, but he contemplated throwing something at Gokudera in return anyway. Hmm, maybe not. They'd already gone a lot against orders, as trying to kill each other wasn't a very partner-like response and setting the forest on fire almost certainly violated the 'lay low' clause. Starting another deathmatch right now, while they were in this state, would almost certainly involve in one of them dying, and both of their teams would be entirely displeased if that happened. Belphegor may not have cared before, but it was simpler to care now. So he did. Besides, this boy was interesting, and the idea that their teams had something more in mind other than a battle was interesting as well.

Partners, huh?

All of this, went through Belphegor's mind while he still lay unmoving and unresponding, eyes not even opening (though it would have been impossible to tell, anyway, behind the thick fall of his hair). Finally, he spoke, voice cracking only slightly from the shot of pain that spiked through his chest with the act. "That wasn't bad, Storm Guardian. Gokudera Hayato, isn't that right?"

last updated 24 Jan 2022

PARA STYLE, SPIDER-MAN/DOCTOR OCTOPUS: YEAR ONE, PLAYING BOTH SPIDEY AND MYSTERIO, TRANS HEADCANONS, 2021

Parker didn't note that geniuses might not enthusiastically participate in society, but money was useful for being able to afford experiments and technology... and rent and food. Otto would absolutely know that.

"And you're enough of a genius that I bet you will, too," she noted instead. "Everyone here seems pretty enthusiastic so I doubt what happened will stand in your way." At least not completely. Dr. Octavius would be able to get funding from somewhere, maybe even from someone who was excited to be able to brag that they were funding a genius reformed supervillain!

"Ohhh. You convinced them there'd be an, uh," she couldn't have stopped herself for any amount of money, even though Parker didn't exactly do as much wisecracking as Spidey; she gestured one-handed to their arms, "arms race."

She smiled back at them, not specifying what she was talking about when she returned, "Thank you, Dr. Octavius." For the permission and trying to keep down the motion blur? Maybe.

She took several pictures, from different angles and at different levels of zoom, getting at least a few of Otto's tentacles in the shot most of the time... They was, like everyone Spidey had fought, really interesting to photograph, even keeping mostly still like this...

And not being a total spectacle. Which, as she was finishing up taking photos of Dr. Octavius, sudden smoke, or... colored fog? Slightly lavender tinted. Began to fill the air up on the stage where speeches had been given earlier that day, and curl outward.

Oh, geez. Parker did immediately swing the camera over and get some good damn shots as the fog began to clear and reveal the figure standing there, holding one's cape as it billowed, though.

"Supervillain reformation is a fine thing for an opening act." The voice carried well, someone who was very used to the stage! "But 𝐌𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐎 will take over from here."

last updated 24 Jan 2022

PARA STYLE, MARVEL COMICS, GHOST & J. JONAH JAMESON, TRANS HEADCANON, 2022

For years Ghost had been sleeping inconsistently. In short, safer-feeling naps, in half-awake dozes; even when they managed deeper sleep they was never fully unaware, their suit on alert for any signs of movement close by. It was a second skin, another limb, extra-sensory. The times they had been without it in the Raft had been miserable.

It was not unusual for them to do much of their work in the late hours of the night, the early hours of the morning. To move silent, untouchable or invisible, a phantom in the dark, through corporate skyscrapers and CEO's manors.

This was different. Ghost held no enmity against the Bugle, nor its owner/editor. Nor had they approached them in the past, however. They knew this paper seemed the only one in New York City that would run stories against the superheroes, against the magnates. They had preferred to solve problems with more direct action. Deep corruption at every level made an exposé seem less efficient, if satisfying.

At the same time... they knew the power of information. And perhaps that power could be wielded like the force it was, against those who were so desperate to keep it from the people.

Before they made their decision. However. To shift their methods slightly. They

needed

to meet the man who professed to value truth.

The invitation was as brash and bold as Jameson's reputation suggested, and said shadowy, red eyed figure complied, floating in through the door as if it weren't there.

"Hehh." Not particularly enlightening. It had been some time since they had spoken to another person. ...They found that they had missed it, but it left them out of practice. "Good evening, Mr. Jameson. I thought I would find you here. You are... dedicated."

Working on a typewriter, not a computer. Good choice. Ghost wanted to let their fingers pass through it, knowing they could not disrupt it, but that would bring them impolitely close to Jameson, so they declined.

last updated 24 Jan 2022

PARA STYLE, DISNEY CROSSOVER, FACILIER/CLOPIN, MODERN AU SORTA, 2016

"Oh, we're always preparin' for some tourist season or other. We got off weeks just like anyplace else, but we're damn busy 'round here. Mardi Gras is big, lots of folks come for that tacky celebration, so we all swallow our pride and take advantage."

And he'd advise Clopin to stick around at least that long, except it sounded like he was planning to do that already, good. Instead, he smiled smoothly, assured, "Y'all are welcome to stay, don't worry yourself about that."

Facilier sighed, putting his cards down for a moment, dragging his hand down his face and composing himself. "You ain't got nothing to apologize for, Mssr. Trouillefou. Just hit a sore spot, that's all -- got a lot of reasons to dislike the La Bouffs--" Unnoticed, not paying enough attention to restrain it, his shadow made a face behind him, "--but I didn't need to take it out on you, wasn't your fault."

Facilier chuckled a little, surprised at the request, but... Why not? If that was what Clopin wanted...

"Sure do." He gave the deck two more quick shuffles, fancy, arcing them through the air, then held them out in a fan, peering devilishly at Clopin over them. "This spread can be used for a lot, but this time... let's talk romance. Here, take three... To show you your past, your present-- and your future." Showoff.

last updated 24 Jan 2022

TEXTING MEME, DISNEY'S HERCULES, HERMES & LOKI, SNOW PUN WAR, 2016

Ooh, I hate to say it, but both of us missed the trick on "chilldren" back there.

Or in other words, you seem like a cool cat yourself. Let's do avalunch sometime.

last updated 24 Jan 2022

SCRIPT/DIALOGUE STYLE, SPECTACULAR SPIDER-MAN, MASON/BECK, 2021

The flinch was so unexpected and so unusual that Mason was pulling his hand back immediately, even before Beck rolled away from him. He was visibly taken aback a moment, then just frowned, schooling his expression before he could show anything else.

It was true, Beck had big emotions, but this was big in a new way and he hadn't been prepared for it. He didn't know how to approach it, not when he felt a sudden distance between them that was completely new and felt absolutely terrible.

You certainly don't sound fine.

He paused, tried to get control over his words, which had come out sounding almost petulant.

...Do you want to... sleep a little more back at the lab? Or we could always go up to the party. I promised you a few drinks. It is incredibly loud up there, you won't be able to hear yourself think.

It was an attempt at a joke, but a worried one.

last updated 24 Jan 2022

SCRIPT/DIALOGUE STYLE, CROSSOVER RP, MARVEL 616 & SSM, TIANA & ADRIAN TOOMES, 2021

A neural connection? That's pretty brilliant. But it sounds like it'd be pretty bad if somebody just ripped it off, yeah. Does it hurt?

[She could understand the solemnity, and more when he spoke.]

Wow, you really are from the past. The timeline's almost right, it's 2021 where I'm from. But a lot of the details seem really different. Osborn never stole from my world's Vulture, at least as far as I know... Blackie Drago stole his wings once, though. Tried to kill him. Grandpa always said he survived because he was just that angry about it.

[A faint smile that faded again.]

Hedonistic maybe, in a #&%@$ up way. He's as far from decent as you can get, though. But what do you mean "timeline collapse"? Is that why there's a bunch of new faces all of a sudden?

last updated 24 Jan 2022