Time for something fun!

[untilavalon]

Need a little pick me up? Or just feel like playing something really stupid? It's time for a meme.

The Magical Swap Meme
or the 'oops, you done fucked up' meme

courtesy of Luc*

Directions

1. Post your character with the name/canon in the subject meme. In your comment, put your preferences such as, "I don't want to do prompt #1" or "for the gender swap prompt, [character] will look like [this]" or "for the age swap prompt, my character will be 5 years younger".


2. Tag each other and have fun.

Prompts

• Body Swap: Holy shit. You're looking at yourself like you're looking in a mirror. The only problem is, when you're looking down at your own hands... you're in someone else's body.


• Gender Swap: Well, this is new; you're now no longer in the right body, but it's still yours. Were you always a girl? You sure weren't yesterday. Of course, this is probably another one of the city's tricks; no point in getting all up in arms about it, is there?


• Age Swap: Are you starting to see a pattern here? Now you're younger-- or older-- than you were a little while ago. Who're you going to bug about your height now?


• Canon Swap: Your entire history is different now. Suddenly, you're a homestuck. Or maybe you're an elf. Or perhaps you're not even switching canons with the person you're threading with. What's the damage?


• Power Swap:...Like the one above, but with powers instead of canons.


• Moral Alignment Swap: Suddenly, you're evil as hell. Or maybe you're really good now. Or maybe your moral alignment is "eh /non-commital wiggly hand gesture". I don't make the rules here, bucko.


• Luc, you didn't include this swap I wanted to do!: Well look at you, you have a bigger imagination than I do. What are you waiting for? Swap it. Just swap it. Do it, before it's too late.
  

You now have four minutes to save the world.**

*If it's a bad meme, it wasn't my idea.
**You do not have four minutes to save the world. In fact, there's really no point in worrying about world saving right now.

Comments

Dick Grayson | DC Comics

[batsdontdance]

[Gender swap? Batwoman. Alignment swap? Super Assassin Talon. Age swap? Holy nerd, Batman.]

Costume Swap!

[oathshackledbird]

(OOC: For reference: The costume Diarmuid gets from Dick and the costume Dick gets from Diarmuid.)

[Diarmuid never quite understood why his armor of old had been redone as it had, but he hadn't really questioned it. This...this he questions. Hiding his identity is not something he feels comfortable doing, so the first thing that happens is the cowl comes down.

The pointy ears...yeah...he's going to have to ask Dick about that. The title is Batman, but how far is too far?

Diarmuid drops through the skylight at Damian's since he knows Dick is staying with the boy and calls out.]

Hey, Dick? I think I have something of yours!

[And while he waits for a response, what does he do?

Yep, he's playing with the cape.]

I am the terror that flaps in the night...

the most important of swaps

[batsdontdance]

Really?

[As it turns out, Dick had definitely noticed the change. And he had to say-- the boots were a little much (though cool looking, he bet Roy would probably dig 'em), but he'd never done the sleeveless look before. He could totally work with it. Certainly made him feel cooler in the summer not wearing a cape and cowl.

He'd done the gracious thing of meeting Diarmuid not to long after he called-- by coming up behind him while he was busy playing with the cape. (Heheheh.)]

Because I think I have something of yours too.

[(Heheheh)]

[oathshackledbird]

[Diarmuid starts slightly and lets the cape drop from his hands as he turns to face Dick wish a sheepish look on his face.]

So...are we in agreement that the boots are the most ridiculous part of my outfit or do you have something else in mind? To tell the truth I am a little torn between what is most ridiculous for this outfit: the cowl, the cape, or the wearing your underwear on the outside of your pants...

[He pauses, picking up a corner of the cape again and looking at it.]

No, it's definitely a draw between the cowl and the underwear...

[batsdontdance]

[He got out his laugh (at Diarmuid's expense), but immediately shifty to friendly chastisement.]

Hey! That costume is a family relic, and I won't have anyone trashing it in my house! You'll have to step outside the window to do that.

[Another chuckle, and he gave another look down at and gestured to his own costume-- uh well not his, but the one he was wearing.] The boots remind me something an old girlfriend wore, actually-- and no, I am not telling you that story. The oversized opera gloves do seem a bit detached. Literally.

[oathshackledbird]

I would say your family is weird, but since that is already a well known fact...

[Oops...should he have gone out to stand on the widow ledge to say that?]

And they aren't over-sized opera gloves, thank you very much.

[Diarmuid points to the left glove and then left shoulder.]

When you aren't carrying a shield, something has to take its place. That armor protects my blocking arm and the top of that glove gives me a places to trap weapons so I can try and twist them out of my opponent's hand. The other glove is smooth and slick to make it hard for someone to grip my attacking arm and if anything does contact, it should slide away.

[batsdontdance]

I prefer to think of us as eccentric. [You're off the hook Dia-- this time.]

[He followed the explanation as Diarmuid gestured to his costume, letting out a small "oh!" in realization when the functions were explained. Not that he actually thought they were over-sized opera gloves, but--]

Nice! [He's excited!] Kind of reminds me of my costume-- keep all the fear in the gauntlets. I've never fought with a shield, but disarming armaments and a bracer-- that's a pretty good idea.

[oathshackledbird]

I have fought with a good number of different types of weapons in my time. Sometimes with a shield and sometimes not, but you always need to have a way to deal with blows that come too close for comfort and dodging is not always an option. A person can have a shield pulled away, but it's a little harder to pull away a glove like that one.

[A thoughtful look crosses his face and Diarmuid looks down at the gloves that are part of the costume he is wearing.]

It wouldn't be too hard to add the disarming additions to these gloves. There is already a pretty good base here. Nothing wrong with increasing the fear factor, right? Or would changing the costume be considered an insult to the family?

[batsdontdance]

I've usually had to rely on dodging and disorienting for my defense. Sure didn't work out whenever I got shot in the arm.

[Another small chuckle, and he swooped around to grab the edge of Diarmuid's (er, his?) cape, fanning out its length as he gestured.]

You kidding? The guy who wore this before me-- his cape was almost twice this size-- and thrice as heavy. Thought I was gonna turn into a cocoon or drown in Bat-symbolism the first time I wore it.

As long as it still looks spooky, function is still most important. Your threads are actually more like my old costume; but I suppose a permanent trade is out of the question.

[oathshackledbird]

Considering that armor is bound to my soul, yes, I would say a permanent trade is out of the question. I am still not sure how this happened.

[Diarmuid motions to his costume, also known as the outfit Dick is 'borrowing.']

However, if you like that kind of costume better, what is to keep you from altering this one farther? Trimming down the cape or getting rid of it completely, for example. I realize it is suppose to mimic wings, but there are other...more useful ways to do that.

[For example, those weapon catchers they were talking about? Stylizing them out in the vague shape of wings would not be hard at all and would actually make them pretty effective if done in the right way...]

[batsdontdance]

Some kind of atomic supposition? [Kind of hard to tel if that was a rhetorical joke or not-- but it doesn't seem to be causing too much immediate harm, so while he keeps the suspicions in the back of his mind, he stows the theories for now.]

Like I said-- [He released his grip on the cape with a light flick in the air and a flourish of his hand.] --family relic. If I had my choice, I'd nix the cape completely-- but I'm supposed to be Batman when I put it on, not Dick Grayson. The cape's part of the myth-- it scares criminals silly, keeps them paranoid. I took off as much as I could without jeopardizing the symbolism.

[oathshackledbird]

Atomic supposition?

[Diarmuid has no idea what that is and he's not even going to ask. Personally, he's happy blaming magic for all of this.]

Do the criminals really think about it that much? Or are you just getting lost in the symbolism and tradition?

[batsdontdance]

[It's basically science-magic.]

Actually? Yes. Criminals are a 'superstitious and cowardly lot,' as he always said. Most people think Batman's a myth or some kind of monster, and it scares them just to think about dealing with him.

Nowadays, Batman has such a reputation that without him, everything gets thrown off-kilter; people get bold, think that no one'll be able to stop them, or that our side's weaker for it. Least that's how it was back home.

i want ALL THE SWAPS GODDAMN but

[earlybird]

[ [ooc: whatchu think about one-sided swap with Super Assassin Talon and kiddo??

(could even stack it with one/double age swap because kiddo in dick's shoes and dick in kiddo's shoes oh no my heart)] ]

oh GOD

[batsdontdance]

( ooc: mY HEART LET'S MAKE IT HAPPEN.

I am totally good with one-side age swap but if you wanna make it a double or would rather keep kiddo a kiddo heck ye let's go for it.)

i'll keep kiddo a kiddo but WHATEVER AGE YOU FEELING FOR DICK

[earlybird]

[ He never, never expected he'd, one day, be crossing steel with Grayson. Not since the man had saved his life.

And yet, here he is, pressed to defend himself as they clash, metal screaming against metal as he gathers the strength to fling off his attack, heels to open air and backed to the ledge of the building. Normally, he would be on the offense, tearing into the other before he'd let himself get pinned.

But although he is different--

(God damn this city's games.)

--he's still Grayson. And so Damian's only option is to defend, and try and yell sense into him. ]

Grayson, stop!

bite-sized and beyond

[graysondive]

[Tearing was exactly what Dick had in mind; a knife in one hand, and all the weight behind it and his now-ten year old body to keep his current target pinned. In the other-- well, just another knife to match the other, drawn back and ready to strike.

The knives in his hands weren't even his. Then again, neither was the cold bloodlust in his eyes-- or at least, it shouldn't have been.

But Dick always had to admit-- the kid was good, even if he was clearly holding back on him. Oh well. His funeral.]

I told you to stop calling me that. [Harsh. And mean.] You are so annoying.

[earlybird]

Not half as annoying as you are right now, Grayson! [ Snarled back. Damian may be reluctant to turn his knives against Dick, but he has no qualms about going at him hand-to-hand, foot lashing out in a viper's swipe to give himself some breathing room from this short, vicious version of his partner. His partner, who is doing his damnedest to drive that knife through Damian's chest. ]

How about you use your brain for a moment and maybe try not to kill your brother!

[ He's pulling a card he doesn't ever really bring up, but he doubts Grayson is in the mood to listen to him about partners. He doesn't even know if Dick is attacking him as a stranger or not, but it's the strongest play he has in his arsenal at the moment. ]

[graysondive]

[He jumped into the air to avoid the foot, and he dropped his poised hand down onto the ledge of the building to shift his weight onto it and flip away.]

You're not my brother. [Very matter-of-factly. He was an only child, after all, and that didn't even matter anymore anyway.]

You're the descendant of the Demon's Head-- you're a threat to the city. [And with a squeak of his shoes, he dashes forward again, knife already swinging.]

[earlybird]

[ He refuses to admit that that stings, even out of the mouth of a different Grayson.

Has his partner been swapped out? Is that what happened? He doesn't know if that's even possible in Ruby City, but he doesn't put it past the wardens to yank a Grayson from elsewhere and replace his version with a hellion bent on killing him. ]

Look around you! This isn't Gotham.

[ Annoyed. Small Grayson, you are annoying him, with the knife and the murderousness thing. He's fed up with holding back, dropping his own knives without a care to barrel back at Dick - time to test this one's hand-to-hand skills. His gloves have arm guards, and that's more than he needs to deflect the swing of the knife, knocking the hand away even as he twists and spins out in an attempt to kick Dick's legs out from under him. ]

A threat? Remind me which one of us is trying to kill the other, here?

[graysondive]

A threat is a threat. Doesn't matter where we go.

[The knife deflected off the arm guard, flying out of hand and clattering to the ground with a rough 'clang,' and a small scoff from Dick that might have been something like a wince, from someone that was trained not to.

Not a problem, at the moment-- he launched himself in the air once more to avoid losing his footing (he'd still been an acrobat, after all-- trying to knock an acrobat off his feet wasn't going to be very easy when he had a much smaller center of mass now--), and backflipped back towards where the fallen knife had landed.]

Nothing personal-- it's my job. Sometimes people have to die. [He picked up the fallen weapon, while he used the other hand to fling his other knife at Damian, on a swift course straight for the neck. The kid wanted short range to avoid fatality, so he'd switch to long range instead.]

[earlybird]

[ Shit. He jerks back, has to drop to the side to avoid the thrown knife, but it still grazes his throat too, too close, cutting a sharp line near his artery.

That is it, small Grayson!

If he thinks long-range is going to give him an edge, he has another thing coming. Batgirl's batarangs weren't the only special ones, and its several of the freeze-foam variation that he flings with honed precision at Dick, already darting off in a practiced zig-zag in case the boy wants to follow up the first knife throw with a second. ]

Oh, it's personal. Do you have any idea why you're here, or did you just pop into consciousness, see me, and think yes, let's kill Damian Wayne?

[graysondive]

[He dipped and weaved, dipping back into a handstand flip a few times to avoid the batarangs-- the only one he doesn't manage to miss is the last one, which pegs him right in the should and clips his ears.

He hissed. Sloppy. Acting like this-- he'd get in trouble. A lot of trouble.]

The court has a quarry with the Batman. [He shouldn't be so chatty (he, knows that, but--), but he continues anyway, trying to scrape the foam off his shoulder before it could freeze entirely-- but more importantly, watching for Damian's next move.]

You're affiliated with him. That makes you a target.

[earlybird]

[ His face scrunches in confusion at that, another set of batarangs held and ready between his knuckles - he's paused, squinting at the other. ]

The court?

[ No recognition. None. He doesn't have a clue about what that is. He barks out a laugh, low and humorless, recognizing the situation fully, now: his Grayson, gone, replaced by one from a different dimension.

And he doesn't know if he'll get him back. ]

The Batman? Surprise, Grayson, you're my Batman. Your target is yourself.

And if you don't believe me, I can tell you all about Zitka. Unless you don't remember her either?

[ It's a gamble. He has no clue about this Grayson's personal history, but he knows that acrobatic style, knows where it came from. ]

[graysondive]

[At first, he scoffs; him being the Batman was utterly ridiculous, for one thing. Batman was an adult, if you wanted to start with the most basic fact a five year old could tell you.

But, when he mentions Zitka--]

Shut up!!

[Anger. But it did belie recognition.

Suddenly he didn't care as much about the crap on his shoulder, wiping the residue he'd managed to glance off the blade of the knife and flinging it at Damian-- still aimed with precision, but a hell of a lot more angry about it, and the weight of his entire body behind it. Anger tended to make people a bit worse at the whole aiming thing.]