At the far end of the street, on my side, was the silhouette of a man, dancing. It was a strange dance, similar to a waltz, but he finished each “box” with an odd forward stride. I guess you could say he was dance-walking, headed straight for me.
[…] He was very tall and lanky, and wearing an old suit. He danced closer still, until I could make out his face. His eyes were open wide and wild, head tilted back slightly, looking off at the sky. His mouth was formed in a painfully wide cartoon of a smile.
— The Smiling Man
cobbled together a carrd and god what year is it ive been in that fucking trench for hours.
smears of green, streaks of blue, dots of red like stars, it's a tapestry from within the speed force. wally wonders how much dick could make out; how many of these fleeting instances he remembers? ( wally remembers most, if not all. ) / a single long second, it spans a thousand years, the shifting of body weight—— the familiar warmth, let's say they're both lucky: one misstep &. they're both gonna be joining those smears of color. not exactly the best way to start a reunion / date. he won't have it hanging over his head, not when dick already had plenty to dangle already.
slowing, wind goes from roar to a hushed whimper, all the colors unstretched becoming plain. only stopping when they're alone, only stopping when there's no danger, no risk, no nosey reporters eager for a story nearby. luckily, every hero kept a safe house—— some more private than others, but this one, he knew better than most. eyes glow with faint traces of the speed force, jolts of blue lightning that fade to reveal warm green eyes.
❛ easy ! easy ! gentle with the nose, birdbrain. ❜ head shakes, trying to brush off touch. ❛ half the fun of going out to dinner is enjoying the smells—— whatya gonna do if you hurt this prize-winning asset, huh? ❜ light jest, still, despite reaching temporary destination ... wally doesn't put them down. grip tightens ever so slightly, subconsciously leeching more warmth, eager to stretch one second into thousands. features flush, a faint hint of red against light skin. ❛ i missed you, dick. ❜
CONTINUED FROM HERE. dick & wally. / @amcssing
bad habits die hard; especially when they don't consider it entirely bad. its always been a talent of his, the disappearing act, since he was a child long before he donned the cape of robin. the circus crew had to be good at not being seen, after all. nightwing had to be even better. he tends to forget that there can be exceptions to this rule----even decades later.
he remembers when he reappears, of course. the mild twinge of wally's mouth makes it obvious. the tiniest pang of guilt hits, but it's replaced with an easy smile and a quip. when he opens his mouth again, he nearly swallows air, and his i told you not to carry me like this is quickly abandoned.
------ " your treat ? " he says between the wind, when wally finally slows enough, when his mask is no longer the thing keeping him from going all but blind in the velocity. when it is safe, mis-matched colored fingers lift to poke the speedster directly on the nose.
" since you asked. date etiquette and all, KF. " a dramatic swing of the legs, a hollywood imitation of romcom tropes, though the wave of giddiness isn't fake.
then, quieter, more serious: " meant it, walls. i didn't mean to take off again. "
【 @thuganomxcs | ❛ how lucky are you? ❜ to cass | * mixed bag prompts , accepting.
a pause [...] dark brown eyes find them, a moment contemplation—— an unconscious read. pinching lips, knitting brows, faintest hints of a sneer. [ frustration. ] for a moment, it lingers, she lets it. allowing yusuke a second of reprieve while organizing their own thoughts. gotham streets were far from places to tarry—— no shortage of foxes lurking among the hens. although; could she claim to be different? if foxes stalk hens, then [...] bats stalk foxes, strange. lips curve into a gentle smile, cold shell wavering, a flicker of kindness on faintly scarred countenance. she thinks about sharing this with the others—— babs—— steph—— everyone &. realizes, maybe, she's a little lucky after all.
extending hand towards him, a gesture of good faith, goodwill although faintest bit wary. ( aware enough of others' temperament. ) / none to eager to brawl in busy streets.
❛ up. ❜
❛ hey ! i make an honest living—— it's not stealing if you're stealing it from people it didn't belong to begin with. ❜ it makes for a fun challenge, too. a bit of rolling in the mud before appreciating what glitters beyond it. ( although no small part of him prefers the hunt over acquisition. ) it's a game—— a challenge worth puzzling over. by now, well, he'll be able to give the staffordshire hoard a run for its money &. half that treasure wasn't even magical. silver and gold is nice, sure, but enchanted silvers and gold? no contest. ❛ help yourself. it won't be missed, and that one you've been eyeing suits you. although, anything here would. 'sides, i ain't falling for those sticky fingers again. ❜
“ woah, look at all this stuff! ” he's got all kinds of things- things she's never seen before, things she wouldn't consider stealing. she doesn't know where to look first, or what to grab first, take for her own collection. the glint of a gold necklace catches her eye, and she crouches down to get a better look. “ how did you find all of this? do you steal it from people, or do you buy it? ” if it's the latter, he must be rich. / @amcssing ( ♡'d , for brad)
if a harpy becomes a mercy, then curiosity remains. ( such creatures were welcome, come bear tooth and claw, learn what real fangs and claws provide. ) upione sired nothing less than a weapon of war—— a bundle of gnashing fangs and daggers. it turns, it turns &. turns again till it bit the one who forged it. however, curse keeps temperament even. scorn—— irritation—— blanket themselves with compassion, not his, but the growing burden of sorcery. it tethers reason to beast, instincts remain ... but call for more eloquence. a silver tongue instead of silver sword. cold kindness.
it goes without saying, they'll return. these lands bewitch him; it sings its song of magnificence and danger, it brings forth memories of inodal. not it's castles, it's spires nor it's people—— the stillness of the battlefield. a calm that captivates, that cannot mask the edge of danger looming above, a guillotine waiting for tender throat. ( his throat—— perhaps. ) a numb sense of excitement ebbs and flows. it's all they're allowed, brief moments of genuine feeling, to trace that piece lost to time.
deciding to defend himself no longer, hand waves as if to dismiss. on dark feathers, on kind wing, they gave their warning ... it'll be heeded. ( in time. ) ❛ if a harpy is a mercy then that only raises further question ... but, perhaps another time. ❜ shoulders roll, an elegant shrug. ❛ i'll go. long as you're willing to travel it with me. we both know no sane godling would trust a guide with feather and claw. and, lacking in saneness as i am, i'm no different, i'm afraid. ❜ weight shifts, becoming standoffish while expression remains cast in iron. ❛ do we have an accord, o' nameless one? ❜
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤCOAL MINER'S CANARY, WAS SHE ; ㅤㅤㅤㅤfor when danger was imminent, she'd give them at least a chance.
Otraybia, was not kind ; it was a land, lavish, with beauty ; but plagued, by savagery. Her own cousins, molded by that same man, were feral, true. A HARPY, THOUGH, AMONG THE WORST OF THEM.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ( How she managed to be anything but, was still unknown. )
Ears, perk'd and keen, listen, for, it would be rude, to give naught, the chance to defend ones' self. A place, so far from this, but it sounds as if it's a UNIVERSES' DIVIDE ; she thought it impossible. Brow creases, so slightly at that term ; GODLING. GODLING. It, as a term, was not unheard of, for ZEUS was known well, to dabble in the artistry of creating children, with near any but his WIFE.
Gaze does turn soft, shoulders taught, now somewhat relaxed. He'd no reason, to raise hand against her, but within tree, she'd remain. There is pity, in the depths of her soul, for any fostered of a GOD ; even if she, herself, does not know the Sisyphus - like trials, they were to endure. She could not imagine it an easy thing, to live up to. To defy.
❝ ... So you have. And you will wander, still, should you not leave this place. I speak, not out of ire, of wrath and hatred. Many, GODLING, and hero alike, do not escape this forest.
ㅤㅤㅤA harpy, upon you, is a mercy. What else dwells, will not be so kind. ❞
She wonders, in idle, his disposition. His place, his temperament. He could be fiery and foul, as some here, were known to be ; perhaps jovial and good-hearted, as others.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤPerhaps, neither.
ㅤㅤ❝ ... I know the way ; out of this place. I travel it, so rarely, but I know. ❞