BringingLight

The icon is a painting of a figure in a black suit with a flaming head, walking in a golden field.



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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    Ghosts won't stop giving Xie Lian flowers, Hua Cheng won't stop teasing, and Xie Lian is out here doing his best, man.

    Xie Lian is momentarily frozen. Outside of heaven, no one calls him Highness except in jest, and there was a time people threw flowers at his feet as if to make a carpet for him to walk upon, but those years are long past. “Thank you. This is a—a princely gift.”

    The spirit’s black-pit eyes go wide and then he grins, revealing long, wicked teeth the color of tarnished silver. “Yes! Yes, I knew it was meant for his Highness.” The spirit nods to Hua Cheng, too, whose grin has widened to something almost obscene.

    “Truly,” Hua Cheng agrees.

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    14 Jan 2026

  2. Public Bookmark 17

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    The Wilsons have a nice Thanksgiving with Family and Friends in Our Beautiful Country of America. There is a dead elk, an incriminatingly young ex-lover, The In-Laws, and a lot of liquor. Things go well.

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    07 Jan 2026

  3. Public Bookmark *

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    Dick is undercover as a smuggler. Damian is not supposed to be there.

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    24 Apr 2022

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    Ships, Damian decided, were there own special, horrible brand of torture. They were cold, damp and miserable, full of the worst examples of human kind; men too annoying or too stupid or too malodorous for normal society on land.

  4. Public Bookmark 19

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    "Kim," you say, stepping carefully closer to the box, "where's your sense of adventure? Your sense of investigative curiosity? Your detective's soul - "

    "Have you considered," the lieutenant says, "that my investigative curiosity is primarily focused on the scene of the murder-suicide two blocks away that we're meant to be investigating at the moment?"

    -

    Harry's instinct for interesting sidequests does not decrease after the conclusion of 'The Hanged Man'.

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    01 Apr 2022

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    It is twilight in Revachol. Darkness falls over the city in fits and spurts, hiding away a dark alley here, wrapping around a heated conversation there, as the sodium lights flicker slowly on. The screeches of motor carriages, the rise and fall of conversation on the street, are joined by the rustle and chirp of crickets, together forming the sound of Revachol's breathing: rising and falling, inhaling and exhaling.

    |

    "Ah, fuck it," Kim says. "Let's go canvas some gas stations."

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    Dick is on the chandelier.

    An eight year old. A genius gymnast, to be sure, but a child, small for his age and under Bruce’s legal care. On the chandelier. Twenty five feet above the ground, surrounded by glass and kept up by a single fifty-year-old chain bolted to the ceiling.

    Bruce is going to have to check his blood pressure after Dick is safe on the ground.

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    08 Nov 2021

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    Bookmarker's Notes

    In his head he sees his father’s shoes. He always wore brown dress shoes even indoors, polished to a shine. Bruce sometimes spent a very long time gazing down at those shoes. He remembers them better, he thinks, than Thomas Wayne’s face.