Independent and Selective Earth-616 Jessica Jones.
                         Written and Loved by Sandra.
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@princecfdenmark
                 Independent and Selective Earth-616 Jessica Jones.
                         Written and Loved by Sandra.

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i lie AWAKE at night with these MEMORIES of feeling POWERLESS  and theyâre HAUNTING meÂ
We Tell Ourselves Stories in Order to Live Â
âIâm sorry about Onkel,â Irina said as she leaned against the railing and looked out towards Connecticut.
Hamlet was standing next to her, but he could have been a thousand miles away. He was gazing towards Connecticut as well, but it was moving northeast towards Boston, Cambridge, and Andover. Another world, a better one where Senior wasnât dead.
âHe was a real man,â Irina continued as her hair fluttered in the breeze.
âHyperion to a satyr,â Hamlet replied.
// Is it considered okay to write stories on your blog to develop your character or is that what headcanons are for?Â
// Starter CallÂ

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Me: *watches Et*rnals trailer*Â
Me: Oh snap here we go again.
bianfuâ:
Bruce stood near the bar wondering when a good time would be to leave. He was trying not to be too judgmental but the atmosphere made him uncomfortable. Gertrudeâs late husband had always reminded him in an odd way of his mother. It had made him respect him but heâd also never found it in him to like him. Though it was difficult to not feel some sympathy for the dead man seeing how this fundraiser was panning out.Â
âNot a fan either?â He asked only to pause as he looked him over. âYouâre Hamlet arenât you?â Well that explained the comment at least. Maybe heâd stay a little longer, to try and work out some of what this familyâs secrets.Â
âThe one and only,â Hamlet replied.
He looked at the other man. He knew his face, but he couldnât really place it. He was a lot older than his classmates at Andover and Harvard had been, but he carried himself like one of them and he looked like he came from old money, too,.Â
Realizing that he was probably talking to someone important. Hamletâs face became more solemn now.Â
âThatâs me,â he said. âAnd you are?âÂ
Do you know what your reward is for being Batman?
                        You get to be Batman
            Independent and Selective Roleplay Blog for Batman                         Heavily Headcanon Based                             Written by Lee
// Senior was the kind of man whose mere presence demanded respect. Once he entered a board room or even his own offices, the atmosphere always became a little bit more chilly and a little bit more solemn. Senior allowed joking and humor in his presence, but within good reason. He had no time for pointless or useless jokes, still less those that were at his expense.
The family shipping business, Norden, reached its zenith during Seniorâs long reign. The American branch consistently outperformed its European cousins during that time and brought in the lionâs share of the revenue. As the years and decades passed, Senior was able to invest his money in magazines, newspapers, and internet platforms as well. Even though he never owned any of these concerns outright, he owned enough shares so that he could bend the boards and the companiesâ executives to his own will if he was so inclined.
Seniorâs own tireless expansion of the business ceased after his death. Claudius never really had a head for business and left the company in the hands of Seniorâs trusted advisers. Essentially, this hands off approach has resulted in a slump in revenue and increased competition from bigger companies in Europe and China as well as the companyâs own Scandinavian branches.
       âTo be or not to be. That is the question.â

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@bianfuâ
Hamlet sat at the bar and watched as Claudius and Gertrude made the rounds, shook hands, and thanked everyone for coming as a swing band played Glenn Miller. Even though this was a fundraiser, it felt more like a wedding reception. The only thing that was missing was the bride wearing white and the groomâs best man standing there and making off color jokes.
My father isnât even cold in the ground and theyâre making merry, he thought as he reached for a Scotch. Itâs almost as if they donât care.
And why should they? Senior had been the one thing that had been blocking Gertrude and Claudiusâs current marital happiness and now that he had been sent to the other world, they could do as they well pleased.
Hamlet shook his head in disgust and downed another drink. He lifted his glass to a man standing nearby. âCheers,â he said sarcastically. âTo the happy couple.â
Colors of Central Park, November 2018
Newbery || Instagram
sunset over central park | 6.25.19Â
// Hamletâs favorite places to spend his down time at a coffee shop on the Upper West Side called Rendezvous near the Cathedral of St. John the Divine. Itâs a place with art on the walls, overstuffed couches, and people sitting there working, reading, playing a game of chess, eating, drinking, or just taking in the day. At night, the waiters bring out the candles and the place is transformed into one where the possibilities are seemingly endless.
Hamlet can spend hours in a place like this just watching the people, overhearing their conversations, and reading a thick book. Sometimes, he talks with the people on the couches nearby, but, mostly, he just keeps to himself and takes in the view.
He has brought Ophelia here several times, but the place doesnât really work well with her character. She cannot really imagine why anyone would want to spend a day sitting in someone elseâs living room and watching them live their lives, but itâs one of those things that Hamlet cannot really explain to her. Itâs just a part of who he is.

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// For years, Hamlet has been running his own blog at the url âham.net.â In the beginning, he used it to anonymously rant and make fun of some of his more snobbish classmates at Andover who would get on his nerves. Later, it evolved into an online journal where he would write about the various events in his life, post outlines of papers that he needed to write for his classes at Harvard, and, sometimes, love letters to Ophelia that he didnât want his parents or her father to intercept.Â
Ophelia is the blogâs only real visitor these days since she knows the authorâs real identity, while the rest are people that come upon the URL in their Google searches when looking for other things and are surprised to find themselves on a blog rather than on a site that sells ham.Â
// Starter call.Â