Bruce: Why Pouting?

Wip of flashpoint Martha Wayne on a date. Haven’t drawn her date yet because I fear letting go of my batblob cheat code and actually drawing Batman.

Feel free to give me tips on how to improve my art :)) I’m new to this

Also, guess the song I’m drawing this to!

Whenever the Bats would complain about any of their tech malfunctioning, Bruce would definitely be the type of dad to go "Back in the days, I didn't even have that" (and of course he overdoes it) :

Dick : This grappling gun's jammed again !

Bruce : Be grateful. I used to scale buildings by hand with a hook and rope.

Dick : Yeah, yeah.

---

Tim : The encryption program is too slow to crack this file.

Bruce : I cracked codes with a pencil, paper, and a lot of staring.

Tim : [rolls his eyes]

---

Jason : The comms in my helmet cut out mid-fight. How am I supposed to fucking coordinate with the other dickwads ?!

Bruce : When I started, I had no comms. Hand signals and pigeons were my options.

Jason : ... Pigeons ?

Bruce : Yeah, now quit whining.

---

Damian : Father ! My sword tracker isn’t syncing properly !

Bruce : Know what I used to do when I lost track of my gear on the field ? I used this thing called "my eyes" to find it. Maybe try that.

---

Barbara : The Batcomputer is practically prehistoric at this point. Maybe it’s time to invest in an upgrade.

Bruce : Prehistoric ? I started with a notebook and an encyclopedia. Plus, I had to cross-reference everything manually. How’s that for prehistoric ?

Barbara : Sure, Grandpa.

---

Cass : My night vision is acting up. Can you fix it ?

Bruce : When I first started, I had to rely on the moonlight. You’ve got infrared, thermal imaging, and sonar. Don’t take it for granted.

Cass : ...

Bruce : ... Fine, I’ll fix it.

---

In the group chat.

Tim : Just survived another sermon about the olden days and gratitude. I swear, I’ve got a migraine.

Steph : Yikes. What was it about this time ?

Jason : Let me guess. How he had to hack into systems using a pocket calculator and sheer willpower ?

Tim : Close. It was how he used to decode encrypted files by hand and climb five stories to cut the power while it rained.

Steph : Classic. Did he end with the “you don’t know how easy you have it” speech ?

Tim : Oh, absolutely. With a bonus lecture about how he built the Batcomputer.

Jason : Next time, just tell him you don’t care.

Tim : And risk another hour ? No thanks.

jason posting pt 2 (pt 1)

Thoughts on Disney Pixar's Soul

Anyone like me who missed the movie soul cause it went straight to streaming during the pandemic, please take a moment to watch it because it's a master piece.

The art style is a beautiful mix of hyper realistic rendering and cartoon caricature and the intentionality of when it leans more into either style says a story of its own. The first things I noticed were the musical instruments rendered in way more detail than necessary, the pictures in his class of real people and not caricatures.

Then it was the perspective shots of 22 experiencing life, where the art was again, all hyper realism. The overwhelming nature of nyc to the beautiful moment of them feeling the spark of life. And in those moments despite the realism, it was not new york I saw. I blinked and I was transported to all the moments in my own life that paralleled that moment and I remembered the cold breeze on my skin, the smell of rain on cement, the context of my memories that made me feel that spark of life.

And when Joe laid out the trinkets they had gathered as proof of living that day and started playing the piano, as he went through his own memories, his proof of living his whole life, I sobbed. Once again, with every blink I saw my own life and every memory and emotion proof that I have lived. The score he played truly felt like it represented the feeling of being alive. Being alive through all the pain and joy and excitement and despair, a feeling so human.

What's insane about this is that I'm not from NYC, I don't take the subway to work, I have nothing to do with music or jazz. None of those moments or memories are directly relatable to my life. And yet I feel it represented my life.

The movie itself was a piece of art of course but watching it, the emotions it invoked in me felt like a separate multimodal artistic experience. One so deeply personal, I cannot express it to you in words.

Please go watch it for yourselves. If you watched it when you were younger and are now a full adult, please watch it again.

(I could go on about how perfect jazz is as a metaphor for life but I'm not the most qualified for that. If anyone is, please do talk about it)

from this post

Since we all agree that people of the Alley of Crime adore Red Hood and believe in him, I think it is time to imagine Jason in a scene similar to the one from OG Spiderman, where his identity is accidentally outted in front of crowd of people, and they all are just choose to protect him and help him out.

So maybe Gotham is facing especially nasty trouble, and vigilantes are on the receiving end this time. So maybe Jason is thrown at the dirty Alley in his part of town, wounded, with helmet flying off, and there is just a crowd of people staring as bleeds out, astonished. And Jason thinks, oh, that's the end — he can go and shoot himself, honestly, because he just failed the man rule every vigilante have: never show your face, never reveal your identity.

But people are... helping him? His eyes are half-open, breath laboured and pained, but all he hears is gentle murmuring:

'God, he is just a kid...'

'He must be younger than my son.'

'Poor child...'

He feels soft elderly hand against his cheek as someone from the crowd, an ex nurse, comes closer to bandage his injuries, while a kid, barely with the size of his helmet, brings it back, sticking out their tongue as they try to place it back on his head, to hide his face.

'It is okay,' the old woman reassures him. 'You are safe with us, son. We hadn't seen anything.'

Jason's eyes sting, because, oh.

It is his people. He loves them. He will die for them.

And they love him just as much.

He still waits for someone to out him, though. But the week ends, the villain is out of the picture, and no one says a thing. The only proof that it ever happened is civilians, who keep waving at Jason — not Red Hood, just Jason — when their paths cross somewhere in the shops or streets.

And that's how he knows that it is them; it is them, and they keep him safe as much as he keeps safe them.

write on the wall

Bruce saves people because a long time ago on the worst night of his life, no one was there to save him. Cassandra stops killers because a long time ago on the worst night of her life, no one was there to stop her.