The Mad Tea Party

FIC: "It's a Snitch, It's a Broom, It's..." (HP/DCU)

Wed, 09 Sep 2009 00:03:25 GMT

Title: It's a Snitch, It's a Broom, It's...
Fandom: Harry Potter, DCU
Characters: Harry Potter
Rating: G
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or DC Comics.
Summary: Without fail, this is always the first image that springs to mind whenever I see a story labeled "Super!Harry".

It’s a Snitch, It’s a Broom, It’s…

The sun was shining high above Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and there was not a single dark cloud in the cerulean sky. A light breeze was blowing from the north—not too cold, but just perfect for balancing the heat. All in all, it was a perfect day for Quidditch. This was actually rather fortuitous, as it was the day of the Quidditch Cup finals between Slytherin and Gryffindor.

Raucous cheering filled the stadium as the students screamed, cheered, and sang chants for their chosen team. The score was tied at seventy-even, and Marcus Flint, the Slytherin captain, was worried. If it came to a match between Seekers--well, Potter’s record spoke for itself. Barring a surprise visit by a horde of Dementors, Flint had little hope that Malfoy could win on his own. He signaled the green-clad beaters to focus on the Gryffindor seeker.

Perched atop his Firebolt, Harry flew high above the stadium. His scarlet robes billowed behind him as he twisted and spiraled in lazy circles. With the sunlight at his back, he looked down on the players below, like a sun god watching over his dominion. From the stands, the golden “S” on his chest, for “seeker”, was barely visible.

Hermione screamed, but her single voice couldn’t be heard over the cacophony of the four houses.

Harry never saw the bludger coming. He did, however, turn at the exact right moment for the iron ball to slam directly into his face.

Cries of surprise and upset rang out across the stadium, but within moments an eerie quiet had settled over the grounds. Harry blinked in shock, his hand tentatively coming up to gently prod his nose.

Nothing.

He hadn’t even been unseated from his broom.

The only thing broken was his glasses, and he was amazed to find that he could actually see better without them. For months now, he’d just assumed that he needed an update on his prescription.

With surprisingly clear vision, he peered down at the ground below him and then at his surroundings. Everyone, including the other players, was watching him. Madam Hooch’s whistle cut through the silence, and Harry shrugged as he flew down to land beside her. A few feet away, a knot of teachers stood around something on the ground. The Quidditch captains soon joined them.

Snape was the first to speak. Well, scream really.

“Potter is obviously cheating! I call for a forfeit from Gryffindor.”

“Now wait just a minute…”

But McGonagall was cut off when Dumbledore signaled for silence. Harry inched closer to see what the ruckus was all about.

Lying on the ground was a bludger, cracked neatly in two. Harry squinted, getting a closer look at it. Was that…an imprint of his nose?

Dumbledore looked at Harry expectantly, but he only shrugged, just as confused as everyone else. As Snape was about to start shouting again, both Dumbledore and Madam Hooch drew their wands and began scanning Harry for any illegal charms.

Of course, he came up clean. Just as he knew he would.

Within minutes, a replacement bludger was found and the two teams were back in the air. Once again, the Seekers were scouring the pitch, looking for any hint of the golden snitch. Malfoy seemed leery of Harry and tried to stay as far away from him as possible.

Harry was hovering above the Slytherin goals when he saw Malfoy suddenly dive. Harry’s eyes, which seemed to almost glow an unearthly green now that they were no longer hidden by his glasses, searched for his intended target. There, a mere three feet above the ground, he saw a glint of gold. He flattened himself along his broom and pushed his Firebolt to its maximum speed.

Unfortunately, the snitch was across the field, and Malfoy was only meters from it. Even with his Firebolt, Harry knew he’d never make it in time. Out of sheer desire to win—and perhaps a hint of desperation to keep Malfoy from doing the same—he thought to himself, I need to go faster.

As though the thought itself was the key, a massive boom echoed throughout the stadium, leaving cries of shock and fear in its wake. For a split second, the world went out of focus as colors and objects blurred around him. Harry panicked, and with another mental shout screamed for everything to stop. With a sudden snap, the world was in focus once more.

Harry looked down to find himself hovering high above Black Lake.

Hovering without a broom.

Tentatively, Harry tried moving forward and backward, up and down. The sensation was nothing like flying on his broomstick. In fact, the Firebolt was downright cumbersome in comparison. Now, he felt weightless and free. Harry rocketed back towards the pitch, luckily without the sonic boom that accompanied his first burst of speed. He paid no attention to the stunned audience as he flew laps of the pitch, winding between players and gliding low over the grass before climbing skyward and plummeting down once more. In a moment of pure, unadulterated joy, Harry threw back his head and shouted to the onlookers below.

“THIS IS BRILLIANT!”

His words were enough to shatter the silence, and soon both Snape and Malfoy were shouting once again

- - - - -

Author’s Note: Being a DC fan first and a Harry Potter fan second, I simply cannot help it every time I see a story labeled as “Super!Harry”, this is the mental image I get. Nine times out of ten, it’s enough to start me giggling, too. It’s the comic book geek in me, I suppose.

Also, I agonized over whether to have Harry shout out “brilliant”, “awesome”, or “so cool” at the end of the fic. So a warm thank you to the guys at hp_britglish community for all their help and opinions.

Finally, this was written for two challenges, crossovers100 (prompt 76: sun) and 10_cliche_fics (prompt “Superhuman”)

FIC: "A Simple Language" (DCU/HP)

Tue, 08 Sep 2009 23:45:45 GMT

Title: A Simple Language

Fandom: Harry Potter, DC Comics Universe
Characters: Zatanna Zatara, mention of two other DC characters
Rating: G
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or DC Comics.
Summary: On the Language and Oral History of the Dementors. By Luna Lovegood - Senior Correspondent, The Quibbler

A Simple Language: On the Language and Oral History of the Dementors

By Luna Lovegood - Senior Correspondent, The Quibbler

The language of the Dementors is a primitive one, consisting of approximately 2,040 different breathy exhalations and hoarse rattles that serve as individual words. Abstract concepts—such as love, anger, or beauty—are largely nonexistent, the primary exception being hunger. There are no words for sun, star, or shadow—there is merely light and dark. Because Dementors are asexual, there is no distinction between the sexes. All humans are simply known as man.

Aside from day-to-day communication, the creatures also use their simple language to keep an oral history of major events in the existence of their species. Most recently, the tale most often told is of a gathering during the time of the Serpent Man. Under his orders, they were sent to feed from man in the Southlands.

The incident described above has been identified as an actual event that happened on May 16, 1997. A primary school in the south of London was attacked by the Dementors under Voldemort’s control. Several children received the Dementor’s kiss—their version of feeding.

This is where the tale gets confusing. The Dementors’ history then continues, telling of how they were driven away, but not before half their number was destroyed by the Dark One and the Light One and their Devouring Flame. Despite the coven of Dementors being over 100 strong in number, these two beings refused to yield to their aura. (This word is a difficult one to translate, but it almost certainly refers to the creatures’ ability to drain their victims of all happy emotions.)

To this day, they still speak of the Dark One and Light One with fear.

When questioned, both the Auror Department and the Department of Mysteries were unable to comment on the veracity of the dark creatures’ account of the attack. However, according to reports taken from the scene, there were signs of multiple fires, such as burnt shreds of cloaks, ashes, and scorched grass, and blackened pavement.

- - - - -

Snapping the newspaper shut, Zatanna Zatara—Mistress of Magic—rolled her eyes. She remembered that incident, and she almost felt sorry for those creatures. After all, the article was right—they were rather primitive. How could they ever be expected to understand such advanced concepts as Batman and thermite, or Superman and heat vision?

Zatanna remembered that battle all too clearly. She’d responded to a call about a magical disturbance, and was horrified to see the horde of Dementors swarming the school. She’d immediately put in a call for back-up to the JLA, and within moments both Batman and Superman were there. Being non-magical, they couldn’t see the Dementors, but they could still feel their happiness-draining aura and the cold they produced.

The two heroes were amazing. With no fear for themselves, they waded into the midst of the creatures, Batman throwing thermite pellets and Superman shooting heat vision at every cold spot they came across. It was only because she knew the two men that she could see the strain on their faces as they resisted the creatures’ effects. She knew that both warriors had a slew of bad memories to call on, yet they never faltered. They doggedly continued their forward charge, leaving a host of burning creatures in their wake.

Zatanna shivered as she remembered the Dementors’ high-pitched death wails. For a moment, she considered tossing the paper in the nearest trash can, but a fond smile touched her lips, and she folded it neatly and slid it into her purse instead. Knowing Bruce, he’ll want to add it to his files.

- - - - -

Author’s Note: This is a silly little ficlet that popped into my mind while waiting to see my optometrist. It took all of twenty minutes to write out and hasn’t been betaed, so please pardon any typos I might have missed.

This was written for crossovers100, prompt 52 - Fire.

FIC: "Aliens in the Alley" (HP/DCU)

Mon, 15 Jun 2009 03:09:30 GMT

Title: Aliens in the Alley
Fandom: Harry Potter, DC Comics Universe
Characters: the Ministry Six, a couple of DCU cameos
Rating: G
Word Count: 764
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or DC Comics.
Summary: A pair of unexpected guests bring Hermione and Luna's discussion of the Rotfang Conspiracy and the existence of aliens to a screeching halt. One-shot.

Aliens in the Alley

Hermione clenched her fists beneath the table, knuckles white from the pressure. Spots of red colored her cheeks like tiny stop signs. Sensing her anger, Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Neville surreptitiously studied their surroundings, looking for a quick escape route should she lose her temper. With body language and covert signals--a head tilt here and a subtle eye roll there--they agreed that since they were seated outdoors, the safest bet would be to simply flee down the alley. Screaming was optional.

And things had started out so well—just a lazy, fun afternoon of shopping and ice cream at Florean Fortescue’s. But Hermione’s irritation level had quickly gone from “All Clear” to “Explosion Imminent”, and the cause of her ire was currently sitting across the table, seemingly oblivious to the smoldering, bushy-haired witch as she happily swirled a spoon in her praline and squid ink ice cream.

Though she was obviously seething, Hermione managed to keep her voice steady as she spoke through clenched teeth.

“Luna, despite the headmaster’s love of sweets, Dumbledore is not a member of the Rotfang Conspiracy, because there is no Rotfang Conspiracy.”

“So you don’t find it suspicious that he offers lemon drops to—“

“LUNA!’ Hermione snapped, causing the four silent observers at the table to jump. “Please, listen to me. There. Is. No. Such. Thing. As. The. Rotfang. Conspiracy. It’s just a stupid myth. Next thing you know, you’ll be trying to convince me that aliens exist.”

Luna sighed, shaking her head sadly. “Well of course aliens exist. It’s a big universe, with lots of room. It’s awfully conceited to think that we’re the only ones in it.”

“Aargh!” Hermione growled. Slamming her hands on the wooden tabletop, she stood, looming over Luna.

“I don’t know why you—“

The sound of a clearing throat interrupted her tirade.

“WHAT?” she snapped, turning her ire on the interloper—

—and immediately fell back to her chair as her legs buckled. She stared in open-mouthed shock at the stranger—make that strangers—who had interrupted her.

And strange they were. There were two beings before her, both unlike anything she had ever seen. The first was quite obviously female, her orange skin contrasting sharply with her barely-there purple metal armor. She was heart-stoppingly beautiful, more so than any veela the teens had ever seen, with a mountain of riotous auburn hair. Her eyes, which had no discernible pupils, glowed an eerie neon green.

The second was a massively large man, at least six and a half feet tall. His skin was a deep emerald green, and he had a prominent, protruding brow jutting out over deep red eyes. An odd outfit consisting of nothing more than blue briefs and boots, red crossed suspenders, and a blue, high-necked cape clearly showed off his bodybuilder’s physique.

Both strangers were hovering a foot off the ground.

The verdant giant, who had initially interrupted Hermione’s rant, seemed almost amused at the table of teens before him, though no sign of it showed on his impassive face. When he spoke, his voice was deep, clear, and soothing—like a placid lake surface.

“I am J’onn J’onzz, known as the Martian Manhunter, and this is Starfire, of the planet Tamaran.”

The beautiful woman coughed to cover a giggle when Hermione’s eyes seemed about to pop out of their sockets in shock.

“I apologize for interrupting, but could you perhaps direct us to the Ministry of Magic?”

Luna was the only one able to respond, pointing them in the right direction and even explaining how to use the phone booth entrance. The man thanked her and hovered upwards, until he was a mere green and blue speck high above the rooftops. The bubbly orange woman gripped her hand, shaking it and thanking her exuberantly. She flew upwards for a few feet before seeming to think better of it and hovering back down to Luna.

“I love your earrings!” she exclaimed, brushing one of the dangling radishes before speeding upwards, her hair a fiery streak behind her.

The six young wizards watched enraptured as the odd beings flew off. It was only when they were out of sight that the tense silence was broken by a quiet snort from Ron. The snort became a snicker, and then outright laughter. Soon, both Harry and Ginny were joining him, laughing merrily at Hermione’s expense. Even Neville tittered a bit, though he tried his best to hide it.

Luna calmly returned to her ice cream, only the barest trace of a smile on her lips.

Hermione shoved her bowl aside, resting her elbows on the table and her head in her hands.

“Say one word and I’ll hex you so badly they’ll never find all of the pieces.”

AN: This was written for two challenges, both found on Livejournal: 10_cliche_fics under the prompt “Insanity Takes Over”, and crossovers100, for the prompt “mountain”. And if you don’t know why the prompt is “mountain”, Google Starfire and check out her armor.

This is a silly little scene that I wrote in under thirty minutes on my lunch break. It's also un-betaed, so let me know if you find any typos. I welcome any comments or constructive criticism.

FIC: "Afraid of The Darkness" (Darkness/HP)

Thu, 14 Aug 2008 03:28:15 GMT

Title: Afraid of The Darkness
Fandom: The Darkness, HP
Pairings/Characters: Lucius Malfoy, Jackie Estacado, Zack and various other darklings
Rating: T
Word Count: 579
Disclaimer: I do not own Lucius Malfoy, Jackie Estacado, the darklings, Top Cow Comics, or anything else you might recognize. I’m just borrowing them for a bit. I promise to return them in roughly the same condition in which I found them, though Jackie may be a bit ruffled before I’m through.
Summary: Unable to breach the blood wards on Privet Drive, Voldemort sends Lucius to hire someone who can. Crossover with The Darkness. One-shot.

Afraid of The Darkness

A Darkness/Harry Potter crossover.

The flickering of a pair of candles provided the only illumination in the room. The flames danced on their wicks, casting strange, sinister shadows on the walls and the room’s only furnishings—a rickety wooden table and two chairs. On one side of the table sat Lucius Malfoy, and behind him stood five masked Death Eaters.

The only other occupant of the room sat across the table, his face hidden in darkness.

Lucius swallowed heavily, attempting to hide his distaste from the muggle before him.

“The Dark Lord’s offer is exceedingly generous. Do we have an agreement?”

For a moment, the room was eerily silent. Lucius tried to get a glimpse of the man’s face, but the candle was simply not bright enough to pierce the shadowed corner.

“So lemme get this straight…”

The mysterious man leaned forward, revealing a curtain of black hair falling around a handsome, chiseled face. Golden eyes glittered menacingly in the candlelight.

“Your lord wants me to kill an innocent family, then kidnap some kid and turn him over to you so you can do God knows what with him?”

“If you must phrase it in such coarse terms, then yes—that is precisely what the Dark Lord wants.”

“Good to know. I’d hate to kill you over a misunderstanding.”

Lucius snorted derisively. “You are alone, Mr. Estacado—you would be dead before the intention became movement.”

His matter of fact tone might have unsettled a lesser man, but Jackie Estacado merely laughed.

“I suppose I’ll have to even the odds then.”

The darkness around Jackie suddenly seemed deeper--almost tangible. The shadows writhed and pulsated as they coalesced into a horde of small, demonic looking creatures. Hundreds of glowing green eyes stared back at the Death Eaters, the candlelight glinting evilly on a multitude of small but sharp teeth.

Panicked, Malfoy jumped to his feet, hurling an Avada Kedavra at Estacado. A small black figure jumped in the way, intercepting the bright green curse and crashing to the floor somewhere beneath the table. The Death Eater was preparing to cast another curse when the fallen darkling let out an eardrum-shattering wail.

“I’m hit, boss!” it moaned melodramatically. “It’s gettin’ dark…” Jackie rolled his eyes, but his attention never wavered from the Death Eaters.

“I’m s-s-so cold.” The creature coughed feebly. “Hold me, Jackie.”

A chorus of inhuman voices joined the first. “Oh Lenny—he was so young…so ugly!”

“I dunno…he still looks pretty ugly to me.”

“Jeez man, he really f’ed you up.”

“Dude, if you die—can I have your stereo?”

“You idiot, he doesn’t have a stereo.”

“Will you guys shut up? You’re embarrassin’ the boss!”

Malfoy started badly, knocking over one of the candles, when a darkling jumped onto the table. It was roughly a foot and a half tall, its scrawny black body covered by baggy shorts, a t-shirt, and a pair of sneakers. Two large, wing-like ears protruded from under a backwards baseball cap and its eyes glowed an eerie green.

Lucius slowly backed towards the door, staring in horrified awe at the creature. The being studied him for a moment. Then it grinned, and Malfoy’s heart stopped at the sight of dozens of needle-sharp teeth. It jerked a clawed thumb in his direction. “C’mon Jackie, can’t we murderize ‘em now? We ain’t eaten in ages!”

Jackie smiled indulgently. “They’re all yours, boys. Just remember to chew your food.”

He leaned over and snuffed out the remaining candle.

- - - - -

- - -

Author’s Note: The “He was so young…” line was taken from a similar line in the comic.

Thank you to my beta Jaki, a.k.a. lazydaisyjax.

FIC: "The Laughing Professor" (Hellblazer/HP)

Tue, 05 Aug 2008 21:44:44 GMT

Title: The Laughing Professor
Fandom: Hellblazer (DCU/Vertigo), HP

Pairings/Characters: Harry Potter, John Constantine
Rating: T, for language
Word Count: 1,643

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or DC/Vertigo. I’m just borrowing them for a bit. (Though I wouldn’t mind working out a short-term lease on John, if you’re offering.)

Summary: Is Hogwarts really ready for the cynical, foul-mouthed, chain-smoking Professor John Constantine? One-shot.

* * *

* * * * *

The Laughing Professor

A Harry Potter/Hellblazer crossover.

Harry drummed his fingers idly on the wooden table top, his eyes roaming over the Great Hall as the first years were sorted. Scanning the Head Table, he leaned over and whispered to his friends, “There’s no DADA teacher.”

Hermione looked annoyed that Harry was talking, but she soon frowned, realizing that he was right.

“You don’t think they gave it to Snape, do you?” Ron’s voice held just a hint of panic. Beside him Neville went white and, for a moment, it looked as though he might cry.

Hermione looked thoughtful. “I don’t think so. Someone would have to take his place in Potions, and I don’t see any new faces.” Both Neville and Ron seemed to relax at that. “Now, be quiet and watch the Sorting.” She pointedly turned her back on them and focused on Daniel Gardiner, the soon to be Hufflepuff.

Harry rolled his eyes and continued drumming on the table, daydreaming about turning Snape into a house elf. A house elf named Sevvie. The mental image of a jaundiced elf with yellow teeth, a long, crooked nose, an evil sneer, and a black pillowcase was too much, and Harry had to slap a hand over his mouth to contain his laughter. His snickers soon turned into a pained grunt when Hermione elbowed him in the side, gesturing emphatically at the headmaster. He listened half-heartedly to Dumbledore’s opening speech, only perking up when he heard mention of the defense class.

“I’m sure some of you have noticed that our new DADA professor is missing. Unfortunately, he was called away last night and is currently investigating a possible nundu sighting in Namibia. Rest assured, he will be back in time for class tomorrow morning.” A few students groaned at this. “Now, tuck in.”

Harry frowned as he picked at his roast beef. Something about Dumbledore’s speech seemed…off. Why was a DADA teacher looking for a nundu? Wouldn’t a task like that be better left to a specialist on magical creatures? Also, although the man was smiling, there was a tightness to his smile--visible only at the corners of his mouth--and his eyes weren’t twinkling.

A non-twinkling Dumbledore? The very thought made Harry a bit uneasy. It just wasn’t natural.

Of course, Harry had no way of knowing that the cause of Dumbledore’s ill-humor was currently in the DADA professor’s chambers, passed out drunk and snoring loudly enough to rival even a dragon’s mighty roar.

* * * * * * * * * *

The sixth years had a double period of NEWT Defense Against the Dark Arts first thing Monday morning. Though a few students were still bleary-eyed with sleep, all were eager to meet their new professor. Of course, many simply wanted to see what kind of crackpot Dumbledore had hired this year, but they were eager nonetheless.

The trio settled at a table near the front of the classroom, turning a critical eye to the room around them. The large professor’s desk, battered students’ tables, and blackboard remained unchanged from last term. Otherwise, the only decorations in the room were a series of odd runes drawn on the floor, ceiling, and walls. There were no books, no supplies—nothing. The room smelled a bit off, too. Harry swore that the stale scent was familiar, but couldn’t quite place it.

Needless to say, Harry was a bit skeptical of the new guy’s prowess in defense.

The bell sounded and he turned his attention to the door, waiting expectantly for the mysterious new professor.

Fifteen minutes later, Harry was still waiting.

The class was starting to get restless. Seamus, Hogwarts’ resident bookie, had his black book out and was taking wagers on the absent professor. Harry closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying not to notice that Ron was slipping Seamus a galleon for ‘DADA professor is an inept git’ and seven sickles for ‘Harry runs yet another DADA professor off.’

“Seamus?”

The sandy-haired Irishman stared at Harry, his deer-in-the-headlights look saying quite clearly that he knew he’d been caught.

“What are the odds on me running him off?”

“Um…two to one.”

“And on him ending up in St. Mungo’s?”

“Five to one.”

Harry nodded, then reached into his robes and produced his money pouch. Sliding five shiny golden coins across the table, he smirked. “Right. Put five galleons on St. Mungo’s.”

Incensed, Hermione sat stiffly upright, ready to unleash a lecture on respecting professors and gambling, when the door slammed open. The booming noise echoed through the stone room, immediately returning everyone’s attention to the front of the class and the man that was now standing in the doorway.

“Ah, fuckin’ hell, that’s loud.”

The man leaned one arm against the wall, the other rubbing circles on his temple, obviously in pain. Slowly, he made his way across the front of the classroom before collapsing in the chair behind his desk. He squinted at the windows, flicking his wrist and conjuring curtains for half of them.

He still hadn’t looked at the students.

They, on the other hand, were staring in shock. The man didn’t look like a teacher. He didn’t even look like a wizard. His short blond hair stuck up all over his head, as though he’d just rolled out of bed. And judging by the redness of his half-closed eyes, that probably wasn’t far from the truth. He was dressed like a muggle in black slacks, a white dress shirt, and a skinny black tie. Over it all was a rumpled tan trench coat, stained and worn threadbare in several places like a veteran auror’s battlerobes, or a child’s favorite safety blanket.

Harry watched, almost mesmerized by the spectacle, as the man produced a packet of cigarettes from his coat pocket and lit one.

Well, at least that explained the familiar smell.

The rumpled professor took a long drag and sighed, the exhaled smoke curling sinuously around his head. “That’s better.”

A thud next to Harry caused him to drag his eyes away from the front of the room and to Hermione, whose forehead had impacted with the tabletop. For a moment he thought she was crying, but soon realized that it was laughter—albeit of a slightly crazed nature.

“I can’t believe this. Our professor—the man responsible for teaching us how to survive against Voldemort and the Death Eaters—IS HUNGOVER!”

Harry, on the other hand, noticed that the man had conjured the curtains without using a wand, and that even now he was surreptitiously studying the students.

As the stranger tapped some ashes on the stone floor, Harry leaned backwards and whispered to Seamus. “Cancel that last bet.”

“You sure? Seems like galleons in the bank to me.”

“Nah—I’ve got a good feeling about this guy.”

Seamus looked at him like he was crazy, but returned the money.

Harry dropped the coins in his pocket and looked up, only to find himself locking gazes with the man’s pale blue eyes. Though they were bloodshot, his stare was piercing. For a single, disquieting moment, Harry felt as though the man were looking into his soul. Unbelievably, he seemed…amused? That couldn’t be right—could it? But no, it was there in his eyes. With a barely noticeable smirk, the professor turned his attention back to the class.

“All right, you lot. I’m John Constantine, and I’m here because I owe your esteemed headmaster a favor. Anyone has a problem with that, take it up with him because I don’t give a rat’s arse.”

The class merely watched, wide-eyed and unsure, as he continued.

“Now pay attention, because this is probably the most important thing you’ll learn in this class. I’m about to tell you the ultimate secret of magic— and that’s that any cunt can do it. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. The wizarding world has been taken over by a bunch of fuck-ups and arrogant bastards, all positive that their ability to wave a poncy little wand and say a few words makes them Merlin Incarnate and superior to everyone else on this godforsaken planet. Their noses are so far up each other’s arses that they’re blind to the truth--that any bloke or bird right off the London street can do anything they can do. All it takes is a little bit of knowledge and a whole lot of will, and abracadabra, hocus bloody pocus—you’ve got magic.”

Silence.

Complete and utter silence. Harry was reminded of the old adage “so quiet you can hear a pin drop.” He was seriously considering transfiguring his quill and finding out if the saying was true when the shouting started. No surprise, it came from the Slytherin side of the room, where a majority of the hardcore pureblood supremacists seemed to congregate.

Glancing to his left, it seemed like the speech had made an impression on Hermione, too. She studied the man as she would a completely foreign specimen, unsure of how to take him.

Harry, on the other hand, knew exactly how he felt. Despite his gruff exterior, the man had a lot of knowledge and experience to share. Though it might be a trial to drag it out of him, Harry was willing to try. If you asked him, he couldn’t explain how or why, but he knew that this man had been to Hell and back. More than anything, Harry wanted to defeat Voldemort, and he had a feeling that before it was all over, this cynical, profanity-spewing, chain-smoking man currently sitting before him and smirking at a room full of gobsmacked students would end up being one of his greatest and most powerful allies.

Harry grinned as he shoved his textbook haphazardly back into his bag, eager to see what the future held for the wizarding world and this strange, laughing professor.

* * * * *

* * *

Author’s Note: The “ultimate secret of magic line” is actually a part of the Hellblazer canon, but it fit the scene so perfectly that I had to borrow it.

Also, a big “thank you” to my amazing beta Jaki (lazydaisyjax).

Thanks for reading. Constructive criticism is appreciated.

Fic: Strays (DCU/HP)

Tue, 29 Jul 2008 04:05:27 GMT

Title: Strays
Fandom: DCU, HP

Pairings/Characters: Batman, Zatanna, Nightwing, Robin, Alfred
Rating: G
Challenge: crossovers100
Prompt: Sound
Word Count: 936

Disclaimer: I do not own DC Comics or Harry Potter.

Summary: Batman has car trouble, while everyone else is amused. And people wonder why he hates magic? One-shot.

Strays

A DC Comics/Harry Potter crossover

A flash of white and the hum of the Batcave’s teleporter heralded the arrival of Zatanna Zatara, Mistress of Magic. She hit the floor at a dead sprint, crossing the cave in a matter of moments, using the slightly echoing voices as a guide. Her heart pounding with dread, she practically screamed as she neared the cave’s garage.

“Batman? Are you—“

She skidded to a stop, nearly bowling over Alfred, the Wayne family butler. A distant corner of her mind realized that he was speaking to her, but between her rapidly receding panic and shocked incomprehension at the scene before her, she wasn’t really listening.

Whatever she’d been expecting when she’d received Batman’s distress call, well—this certainly wasn’t it.

“I got your emergency signal--?”

Sitting atop the Redbird’s hood, Dick Grayson— the superhero Nightwing and the eldest son of Bruce Wayne—nearly choked with laughter.

“You—you sent out an emergency signal?”

His only response was a fierce glare—the same glare that reduced criminals to sobbing wretches, begging for mercy on their knees. Of course, it only made Dick laugh harder. From his spot beside his older brother, Tim Drake—known to the world as Robin—peeled off his mask to wipe the tears of merriment away.

Trying to hide a smile, Zatanna found the Dark Knight leaning against a nearby wall, his cape pulled around him and a scowl firmly in place.

“Bruce, what’s going on?”

He angrily waved a gauntleted hand at the tableau in the middle of the room and growled through clenched teeth. “That THING is attacking my car.”

Alfred, who was studying a nearby monitor with his back to the gathering, suddenly developed a suspicious cough.

“Forgive my impertinence Master Bruce, but I don’t believe ‘attacking’ is quite the right word.”

Zatanna suddenly found herself fighting back a suspicious cough of her own. Alfred was, as usual, absolutely correct.

The final occupant of the cave was no human, but an older model Ford Anglia, spots of rust peeking through its faded turquoise paint.

And it was nuzzling the Batmobile.

There was really no other way to describe it. The Anglia had sidled up to the black auto and was rubbing its bumper along the newer car’s sleek hood and front quarter panel. To make matters worse, the low rumble of its engine made it sound as though the rusted relic was purring.

"I’m glad you find this amusing.” Bruce’s voice dropped to a lower, almost pouting, tone as he mumbled, “I just had it repainted.”

Unfortunately, the cave had excellent acoustics and the Dark Knight didn’t mumble quietly enough.

Nightwing, the scourge of Bludhaven’s criminal underground, opened his mouth--ostensibly to reply with a suitably witty come back. But the only thing that escaped was “wooooo” as he doubled over, attempting to catch his breath between bouts of laughter.

“I can cut you out of my will, you know.”

Batman’s scowl merely deepened as Robin, feared squire of the Dark Knight, giggled.

“Totally worth it!”

Bruce had started to finger one of the pouches on his utility belt, so--for the sake of the young heroes--Zatanna valiantly attempted to focus on the love-struck car. She cautiously approached it, keeping up a stream of soft, steady chatter which she hoped would keep it calm. Her breath caught as, for a split second, the Anglia pinned her in its headlights and emitted a low, warning rev of its engine. But she was able to exhale as it turned its attention back to the Batmobile, ignoring her. She quickly got to work, waving her hand over the car and mumbling under her breath, expertly interpreting the results of her spells.

Her analysis complete, she joined Bruce on the wall, slumping against it with a relieved sigh.

“I have good news and bad news.”

A grunt was her only reply. But the boys had stopped snickering to listen in, so she interpreted that as an invitation to continue. “I’m not getting any bad vibes from the car, so I’m pretty sure that it’s harmless.”

“Can you fix it?”

“And there’s the bad news. As far as I can tell, the car’s been enchanted for quite some time. If an enchanted object absorbs enough ambient magic, it can develop a personality and an awareness of its surroundings, among other things. This car has absorbed a lot of magic. It’s--well, it’s practically sentient.”

With a sigh, Bruce removed his cowl and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He could feel a stress headache forming.

“So you’re telling me that destroying the enchantment would be like killing an innocent creature.”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“Wonderful.”

“I thought you’d like that. If you want, I can help you corral it long enough to drop it off somewhere. At least it’ll be out of the cave.”

Bruce eyed the car warily. “I can’t let a sentient car run free; there’s no telling what it might do. Someone could get hurt.”

Tim arched an eyebrow skeptically. “You’re not actually thinking of keeping it, are you?"

Bruce sighed.

“I don’t see that I have a choice. Besides,” he smirked at his snickering sons, “I have a habit of taking in strays.”

- - - - -

Author’s Note: That's right! Batmobile/Ford Anglia OTP!

I wrote this in the bath, and it took me about 20 minutes--40 if you count typing and editing.

And last, but certainly not least--thanks to Jaki (lazydaisyjax) for beta-ing for me.

10 Cliche Fics: DC Comics and Harry Potter Crossover

Thu, 05 Jun 2008 06:46:53 GMT

10 Cliche Fics: DC Comics and Harry Potter Crossover

Superhuman	Prove it	I own you
Not now!	Im in ur fic	Save me from myself
Curse you!	No way out	Insanity takes over
	Don't I know you?

Another NaNo Idea

Tue, 30 Oct 2007 21:41:11 GMT

I said that I didn’t have any original plots fleshed out, but that’s not quite true. Although I lost all of the notes and background research, I still remember the basic plot structure of one of my Aeternitas side stories.

A little background info: the Aeternitas are a very small group of historical and mythological people whose magic allows them to live forever. So far, all of them have led extraordinary lives and been rather famous. Among them are Medea, Ramses II, Jason, Circe, Zhuge Liang, Octavius Caesar, Marie Laveau, Morgan le Fay, and Merlin. There are a few other immortals, such as Elizabeth Bathory, that aren't technically Aeternitas. I have (or I suppose had would be a more appropriate word) a series of stories planned out for these characters, with each being told from the eyes of a different character.

Medea was by far my favorite. The novel I was working on that rewrote her story was not technically a part of the Aeternitas universe, but it was the history that I wanted to use for the Aeternitas-Medea.

Anyway, the story I have in mind was a sort of side story set in this universe. I don’t have a title yet, but the basic plot is as follows:

Professor Deanna “Dea” Colchis, also known as the sorceress Medea, is a professor of Greek history and myth at a small but prestigious college. Her peaceful life is shattered one day by the arrival of the new Egyptology professor, Stephen Ramsey—also known as Ramses II.

Basically, Medea-the most powerful of the group--has left the Aeternitas behind to retreat into mundane life. Ramses--one of the few willing to stand up to her--has come to drag her back, kicking and screaming if necessary. An appearance by Jason and the fact that, even after millennia, Medea still refuses to face the loss of her children will provide complications along the way.

Although I don’t have the plot as well-thought out as I do for Children of the Sun, I may decide to go with this one after all. Then again, I may not. I no longer have the stepsheets, setting info, or character sheets for the satellite characters, and I don't remember why exactly Ramses was trying to drag her back. Also, I never did decide whether or not I wanted Medea and Ramses to become involved romantically or not.

Whatever the case, I have a little more than a day to decide.

Is it November yet?

Tue, 30 Oct 2007 18:19:38 GMT

How did I not notice that it was almost November? NaNoWriMo is quickly approaching and I don’t have a plot chosen, much less an outline to follow.

I do have several original plot ideas, but none of them are really thought out enough to start writing on by Thursday. I suppose I could do something fandom related. I think I’ll go with Children of the Sun, a DC/HP crossover. Although I don’t have anything written down, I at least have an idea about where I want to take that story.

Well, that was surprisingly easy. Now, if you don’t mind. I think I’m going to go spend some quality time with Guitar Hero 3 while I’m still able.

*goes back to playing Pride and Joy and feeling like a total badass, despite the fact that the guitar is tiny and plastic*

Wolfgang’s Big Night Out

Thu, 25 Oct 2007 17:25:36 GMT

Uggh. My LJ is being a royal pain. That last wonky entry was supposed to be much longer, and include an actual explanation for the presence of the media player. Unfortunately, for some strange reason, I can't go back and delete or edit that last entry, so I guess I'm stuck with it. Anyway, the following is what the last entry was supposed to say.

The Brian Setzer Orchestra released a new album about a week ago—Wolfgang's Big Night Out.

You need this album. Your life will not be complete until you've heard this album.

I discovered Brian Setzer in high school, right about the same time I realized what a blast swing dancing was. I've kept up with his work over the years, including his work with the Brian Setzer Orchestra and the Stray Cats.

I absolutely love him, for several reasons. He's an incredible guitarist, and his music is unlike anything else out there. Plus, it's just plain fun. It's virtually impossible not to tap your toes and move to some of his more upbeat songs, like Rock this Town, or I Fought the Law.

Finally, Brian Setzer is cool.

He is cooler than you and I could ever dream of being.

Take the five coolest people you can think of and combine them, and they're still not as cool as he is.

But back to the album—Wolfgang's Big Night Out. I told you Brian Setzer was different, and this album proves it. The entire CD is a cover album, of sorts. Rather than cover "classic" rockers or pop artists, Setzer went straight to the true classics. You know, like Beethoven and Mozart.

I was skeptical at first. The songs chosen were classical masterpieces, and I believed messing with them to be a big no-no. However, I love Brian Setzer, so I bought the album anyway. Here's the track list:

1. Take The 5^th (An Adaptation Of Beethoven's "Symphony No. 5")

2. One More Night With You (An Adaptation Of Grieg's "Hall Of The Mountain King")

3. Wolfgang's Big Night Out (An Adaptation Of Mozart's "Eine Kleine Nachtmusik")

4. Honey Man (An Adaptation Of Rimsky-Korsakov's "Flight Of The Bumblebee")

5. Yes We Can Can (An Adaptation Of Offenbach's "The Can Can")

6. Swingin' Willie (An Adaptation Of Rossini's "William Tell Overture")

7. Sabre Dance

8. For Lisa (An Adaptation Of Beethoven's "Fur Elise")

9. Here Comes The Broad (An Adaptation Of Wagner's "Lohengrin" And Mendelssohn's "A Midsummer Night's Dream")

10. 1812 Overdrive (An Adaptation Of Tchaikovsky's "1812 Overture")

11. Some River In Europe (An Adaptation Of Strauss' "Blue Danube")

12. Take A Break Guys (An Adaptation Of "God Rest Ye Merrry Gentlemen")

When I first got the album, I listened to it once, and my response was pretty much "WTF?" ¯\_(o.0)_/ ¯

So I listened to it again, and my skepticism was downgraded to a simple "hmm…" o_0

Then I listened to Take a Break Guys about six times in a row, and pretty much drooled the entire time. The guitar in this song is fabulous.

Then I really started to listen to the rest of the album. Setzer's guitar absolutely blazes on Sabre Dance and Honey Man. (Although the lyrics on the latter are a bit inane.) I swear, the man can shred better than most metal guitarists I've ever heard. And One More Night With You, one of the two songs that actually has lyrics, is incredibly catchy. In fact, it's probably my favorite song on this CD.

My final verdict? Wolfgang's Big Night Out is incredible.

And, because I'm such a great person, I'm going to post the album here. If you like it, go buy it.

http://www.briansetzer.com/

Wolfgangâ™s Big Night Out

Thu, 25 Oct 2007 17:16:58 GMT

Sometimes, I swear I can hear God laughing at me.

Mon, 24 Sep 2007 00:34:20 GMT

Sometimes, I swear I can hear God laughing at me.

Just this morning, I said that after losing four years worth of work, I was giving up writing until further notice. I also said that I planned to use the time to focus on the guitar.

I was doing laundry today, and an unopened, full bottle of fabric softener fell off of a high shelf, landed on the lid of the washing machine, and slammed the lid on my hand. The underside of the lid has a sharp-edged lip on it.

My middle finger is now broken.

Any plans I had of playing the guitar over the next few weeks are gone.

I think I’m going to go cry now.

My computer crashed

Mon, 24 Sep 2007 00:21:36 GMT

My computer died.

It completely crashed, taking my motherboard, processor, and one of my 400GB hard drives with it.

My main hard drive, where I store all of my writing, notes, and research.

It went out Thursday night. I spent all of Friday tearing the house apart looking for my backup CDs. They were several months old, but it was better than nothing, right? I was getting pretty frantic by the time the afternoon rolled around, and was literally just throwing stuff into one large pile in the middle of the computer room--never mind the fact that I have twelve people coming over Saturday night. It just wasn’t important.

I found the discs. Someone had spilt something sticky and slightly acidic—my guess is Coke—on them, and hid them in a box in the closet. They were ruined.

I lost four years worth of stuff.

Four years.

FOUR FUCKING YEARS.

Gone. Just like that.

I lost my journal, as well as all of my research notes, story notes, outlines, step sheets, and character bios. I lost all of my fan writings, including several half-finished novel-length stories, and a few finished one-shots that I just needed to get the courage up to post.

I lost all fifty pages of my Master’s dissertation and the accompanying notes and research.

All told, I lost over 700 pages of stuff.

But worst of all, I lost my Medea novel. Three hundred single-spaced, 10 point font pages. I’ve worked on it off and on for the past four years. I’ve been planning and researching it for much longer than that.

I feel like I’ve lost my left arm.

Just thinking about writing makes me nauseous, so I don’t think I’ll be doing much of it any time soon. I suppose I could try to look on the bright side. After all, with all the free time I have now that I’ve no desire to write, I’ll have plenty of time to practice the guitar. However, I’m not sure I feel up to being positive right now.

Edit: This also means that I won’t be able to post backdated entries for the last few months. If I get the time or inclination, I might try to throw together a brief summary, but I doubt it.

My husband rocks!

Fri, 08 Jun 2007 06:10:11 GMT

I have wanted to learn to play the guitar for years. Unfortunately, I’ve never had the chance. In high school, I was too busy with drill team, the newspaper, tae kwon do, and kickboxing. For the first few years I lived with Bryan, I was taking 20+ hours a semester and we were living paycheck to paycheck. The timing was never great, so I never mentioned it.

While playing Guitar Hero with Bryan a couple of months ago, I finally brought up the fact that I wanted to learn. I’ve talked about it once or twice since then, but—despite the fact that we’re financially stable and I finally have the spare time—I never seriously considered going through with it.

So imagine my surprise when the UPS guy showed up this morning with two packages, one of which was as tall as my chest and had the Fender logo all over it.

Without prompting, or even telling me first, Bryan bought me a guitar! *squeals of joy*

It’s a Fender-Squier Telecoustic Acoustic-Electric Guitar, which I’ve been told is a really good guitar for beginners.

This picture is from the website, but you get the idea. =o)

Spamalot! Or, What Happens in Camelot, Stays in Camelot

Fri, 08 Jun 2007 05:11:13 GMT

Lady Luck was on our side, and we managed to score a pair of tickets to see Spamalot! In case you were unaware, this is a musical that’s based on Monty Python’s Quest for the Holy Grail.

It was amazing. I honestly don’t think I’ve laughed quite that much in a very long time. Although the story shared many details, scenes, and characters with the movie, it also had quite a bit of new material.

Case in point- you remember Lancelot, right? The super-violent knight that slashes and stabs his way through a wedding party to save a ‘damsel-in-distress’ named Herbert? (Herbert was the guy who was supposed to marry the girl with ‘huge tracts of land.’)

Well, in Spamalot, Lancelot was gay. At one point, they even stripped him of his armor and left him wearing nothing but a tight shirt and a sparkly silver codpiece. He and Herbert get married in the finale.

Good times.

But my favorite part of the whole play was actually one little line from Arthur’s servant, Patsy.

Earlier, the Knights Who Formerly Said Ni tasked Arthur to put on a Broadway Musical. After this was a musical number in which Sir Robin informs Arthur that in order to be successful on Broadway, they need a Jew.

Near the end of the play, after Arthur realizes that he is, in fact, in a musical, Patsy informs him that he’s been a Jew all along. When Arthur asks why he didn’t speak up sooner, Patsy says, “It didn’t seem like the right thing to say to a heavily-armed Christian.”

That one line received the biggest laugh of the night. The actors actually had to pause momentarily to let the laughter die down.

The only downside to seeing the show is that now I have several songs stuck in my head. Mainly, it’s ‘Always Look on the Bright Side of Life’, although I’m also singing the ‘We’re knights of the Round Table…’ song and ‘Deep in the Heart of Texas’. (The Knights Who Say Ni included that song in their second name.)

I’m going to recommend Spamalot to anyone and everyone. Seriously, if you can get tickets, go. It’s worth it.

Wow, I'm an idiot.

Fri, 08 Jun 2007 04:52:38 GMT

I’d like to think that I’m a fairly intelligent person, but every now and then I do something so profoundly stupid that it’s actually rather embarrassing.

I was incredibly proud of myself for kicking my caffeine addiction. During the detox period I had a three-day migraine. And I don’t mean headache. I mean an actual, severe migraine—complete with sensitivity to light and sound, nausea, and pain so bad that I could do nothing but try to sleep through it.

That was about a month and a half ago. I’ve tried to be careful since then. I no longer buy soft drinks when I go grocery shopping, and I order water when we dine out.

Then, seemingly out of the blue, I started getting headaches again—the same headaches that I used to get when I went without caffeine for 24 hours. I was stumped. I had no clue why I was having these reactions when I thought I’d been careful about avoiding caffeine.

Unfortunately, I thought wrong.

Bryan and I have been going out a lot more often than we used to—sometimes as many as three to four times a week. I’m a social drinker, so whenever we’re out at a club, bowling alley, or anything like that, I have a few drinks.

My drink of choice? Jack and Coke.

*headdesk*

There’s no telling how much caffeine I’ve been imbibing over the past few weeks. Although I usually limit it to one of two drinks a night, I know I had at least four the night we saw Fuel, and six (maybe more) on one of the nights that Bryan managed to drag me out to the club.

As much as I love my Jack, I suppose I’ll have to switch to something else in the future. Perhaps I’ll try Cosmos, Tequila Sunrises, or Amaretto Sours? Still, it sucks to have to change, as I never know how my mixed drinks will end up tasting. Hell, you try getting a decent Cosmo at a bowling alley. *shudder*

My bad?

Fri, 11 May 2007 07:15:20 GMT

I’m beginning to think that drinking a 44 oz. energy drink two hours before bed was a bad idea. =o(

867-5309 (Jenny)

Fri, 11 May 2007 07:12:17 GMT

I’ve been singing this damned song all day. Non-stop. Over and over and over. As much as I like the song, it’s driving me crazy. Even out on the disc golf course, I would randomly break out into song.

Jenny I've got your number,

I need to make you mine,

Jenny don't change your number: 867-5309.

On a side note, the phone number for our lake house used to be 876-5309. =op

Fuel and Pole Dancing

Fri, 11 May 2007 07:06:43 GMT

Bryan, Amy, and I saw Fuel last night at the Scout Bar. I had a blast.

I can’t believe that we haven’t been to a concert there before. It’s only a couple of miles from our apartment, and although it’s not a very big venue, they have a lot of big names bands that play there. I have a feeling that we’ll be catching quite a few concerts in the future.

We hung around at the bar afterwards. Cheryl tried her damndest to get me up on one of the poles on the dance floor. It did look like fun, but my chunky butt wasn’t about to dance. I tried telling them that I had a lot more ass to shake than they did, but this cute little blonde chick told me that it was better that way. I don’t think so. Twit.

I did eventually get up there, but I was adamant about not dancing. I think the main reason I was so dead set against it is that I was afraid of looking like an idiot. As much as I used to love dancing, I haven’t gone since I met Bryan. That’s over six years. I’m afraid that I can’t move like that anymore.

I do have Bryan almost convinced to let me put a pole in the living room. (It’s removable, so we can hide it when company comes over.

Perhaps I can find someone to give me a few private lessons. *wink*

Pampered Chef

Fri, 11 May 2007 06:59:31 GMT

I was invited to a Pampered Chef party last night. Amazingly enough, Bryan agreed to come too. I didn’t beg or coerce him. He was invited, and he agreed—completely of his own free will. It was fun—very laid back. We mostly chatted, but I did get a couple of ideas for the kitchen—like recipes for a homemade bread bowl, rings, and a microwavable cake. I really like their products. They’re not as expensive as I remember them being from the last time I looked. Whatever the case, I ended up buying $170 worth of kitchen equipment. I also found a new ~~enabler~~ ~~dealer~~ representative in Mrs. Rebecca, in case I want to buy more kitchen stuff in the future.

The Batman - "The Joining"

Fri, 11 May 2007 06:53:31 GMT

I finally got a chance to watch ‘The Joining’, the latest two part storyline from the animated DCU show The Batman. (I was waiting until I had both episodes.) Most of this is just my notes and thoughts on the story, so it’ll probably be pretty random.

I’m apologizing in advance, as I’m about to shift into fangirl mode.

First of all, YAY J’ONN!

I love my big, squishy Martian. Of course, I also love Gotham. So the idea of J’onn as a detective in Gotham--OMG! So much love! He’s so smug about it too—especially when he was talking to Batman about the equipment that was stolen from his company (Wayne Tech). I really hope he decides to stay in Gotham for awhile. You can never have enough of J’onn. He makes everything better.

Seeing J’onn morphing his features along with the television was an awesome allusion to the comics. I actually remember one of the books in which he did that.

Am I alone in wanting to take a class about Martians taught by Bruce Wayne?

I didn’t think so.

Dick and Babs are so cute. “Kick his head off.” “No, you kick his head off.” Even the threat of an alien invasion isn’t enough to make them cross Alfred.

On a side note, Alfred is the man. Forget J’onn and Batman, send Alfred after the aliens. He can be his normal dry, sarcastic self and give the aliens a stern lecture that will surely send them packing. “I cannot tell you how disappointed I am in you, young sirs…

Aww, poor woobie Bruce. He actually confessed that he doesn’t want to lose his kids. I love that we get to see his sweet side here. He’s actually acting like a father, albeit a somewhat dysfunctional one.

Watching the Rogues fighting alongside the police was a treat. Of course, it would take an alien invasion and the threat of worldwide annihilation to get them to work together, but that’s Gotham for you.

Hooray Justice League! I was a bit bummed about Hal being the resident Green Lantern and not Kyle, but I’ll live. I doubt he’ll have a huge role in the show anyway.

My main quibble is the lack of a certain Big Blue Boyscout. I can only hope that they have a great meeting and team-up planned for a later episode. Seeing two alpha males playing “who has the bigger mizzenmast” is always fun.

And of course Batman knew about the Watchtower and had already hacked their satellites and systems. He’s the Goddamn Batman. It’s what he does.

I realize that The Batman series gets a lot of flak, but I actually like it. Of course, it’s certainly nothing like the old DCAU series, and I doubt it ever will be. But that’s kind of the point. It’s different, which is not necessarily bad—at least in my book. It has some good storylines, like the one where a future police force was looking through the Batcave for notes on how to defeat a newly-resurrected Mr. Freeze.

Even though this lighthearted version of Bruce isn’t really my ideal Bruce, he’s still a fun, lighter alternative. Most of the villains are interesting interpretations as well. I especially love episodes where they’re shown as sympathetic characters, such as the one where we see the Riddler being betrayed by the woman he loved. Oddly enough, Poison Ivy—who is normally my favorite villain—is my least favorite in this series. Perhaps I’m too attached to her comic version, but I really don’t like what they’ve done with her. I’m also rather apathetic about their Joker. Although once again I might be a bit biased, as Mark Hamill will always be my Joker, just as Kevin Conroy will always be my Batman. (Dear God, I swear to you that Mr. Conroy can induce an orgasm in a woman just by talking to them. Now that I think about it, it’s kind of indecent to have him voicing a cartoon character. =op )

The Penguin is another story. I’ve never really liked him much in the comics. If you think about it, he is a rather silly villain. He’s named after a penguin, for cryin’ out loud. Exactly how menacing can he actually be? I think The Batman’s writers picked up on this silliness and ran with it. Although he does have his super-villainous moments, it seems like he’s mostly around for comic relief. I suppose that’s why he’s my favorite villain in the series; he’s a riot. I remember one specific episode in which a vigilante was abducting Gotham’s villains, and Penguin was begging Batman to arrest him. (“Look, I’m stealing.”) I was practically crying from laughter during that episode.

Adventures with Tofu

Fri, 11 May 2007 06:40:56 GMT

Thanks to my recent zeal for creating a healthy household, we had our first experience with tofu tonight.

I’ve read that tofu neophytes typically have the best experiences with fried tofu, so I battered a pound of extra firm with whole wheat breadcrumbs, a few seasonings, and egg whites, and then cooked it in a little olive oil. The batter was mainly an attempt to trick Bryan and my sister into eating it. As soon as it had cooled, I tried a piece.

It turns out that—contrary to popular belief—I do, in fact, have a gag reflex.

It was horrible. The taste wasn’t bad, but the texture—mushy and a little bit slimy—was disgusting.

Being the wonderful and loving wife that I am, I just had to share my latest culinary experiment with my husband. Luckily, he was distracted playing a video game and didn’t even bat an eye when I told him to try a piece of my newest ‘chicken’ recipe. He was so involved in his cutthroat tennis match that he just opened his mouth and accepted it.

I doubt he’ll ever trust me again after that.

Once he finished choking, I owned up to my deception. He took it surprisingly well. After a little bit of name calling and a couple of promises of retribution, he agreed to drop the subject if I’d trick Amy into eating a piece, too. All in all, I think I got off lightly.

I have to give Amy credit, as she didn’t once make a face while eating it. It was a bit of a let down really.

Amazingly enough, my mom seemed to actually enjoy the dish. She ate several pieces with a bit of Frank’s Red Hot (cayenne pepper sauce).

Yay, Bryan!

Fri, 11 May 2007 06:34:34 GMT

Despite only being at his company for a year, Bryan earned a promotion and 10% raise! I’m so proud of him.

Only Slightly Evil

Sun, 22 Apr 2007 13:42:11 GMT

Okay, despite what I might have said on Friday, Billy Blanks is not, in fact, the devil.

After a week of extreme soreness, I’m finding the routine much easier now. It also helps that I transition into yoga immediately following Tae Bo.

However, I still believe that although Billy might not be the devil, he’s still a minion of Satan. (Perhaps an arch-demon?) Only someone that’s truly sadistic could have invented those evil torture devices known as the “Billy Bands.”

In my defense, I was busy.

Sat, 21 Apr 2007 08:51:23 GMT

I have been incredibly busy lately. I usually write and work on my blog at night, but recently we've been going out 4-5 nights a week. Add to that the fact that my sister is living with us now, I'm trying to work on my getting my apartment spotlessly clean, and I'm working out quite a bit—and I have had no time to update my blog in over a month. However, I have back-updated it from my journal. Everything going back to March 1—just after the debacle with the fabric softener—is new.