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Papers in the wind. Hotaru, Good Samaritan despite the way he speaks of people: bends to help gather the materials which seemed to spill from the professor(?)’s hands. Sometimes a rabbit doesn’t know it’s crossed a lion and wanders in its den regardless. “… bad weather. Ah, here you go.”

a single second. lots can change in one   —   an arrow might strike true, or an encounter might occur. in a single second, his attention drifted. golden irises, deep and rich like pools of ichor, glance towards the sky. it's getting later, the purplish orange hue edging the far reaches of the sky warns him. still, the sun hangs up above with unchallenged bravado. it does not shy away from the shadows; it does not fear sinking beyond the skyline   —   it knows it will rise. it will always rise; its destined to shine, so let it do as it was destined. and in a single second, he's jealous of its certainty   —   of such a simple fate.

papers slipped from his fingers, plucked by thieving winds, howling and cackling as they went. a soft curse, a dead word, in a foreign land   —   slips from his lips. at the very least, none of them went far. explaining how he lost more than half of the documents pertaining to the school wouldn't have been a pleasant conversation. not that thane worries about such things. it's almost time for him to find another place, as things would have it. to see what the next school might offer   —   he's sure his colleagues are appalled by how often he comes and goes. their job security is why they stay. however, it's the security he does not want.

the thin metal clips in his dreads clink gently as he kneels carefully, none too eager to exacerbate old wounds. everything he does is stiff   —   a plain attempt at coddling discomfort. and suddenly, he's not alone, not that they crept 'pon him unseen. it's just more papers returned to his hands than he gathered himself. some of the glow in his gaze darkens if only for a moment; it's never truly gone   —   the lambent within.

❛  & —— and just like that, you're my favorite student.  ❜   lips curve into a mannerly smile.   ❛  even if we've never met before.  ❜   he straightens up, smoothing out each document, a practiced gesture.   ❛  thank you.  ❜

unprompted,

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. ❞

anyways, little inbox call so i can at least say i did more than a few things today. it'll either be from your meme tag or smth a lil pre est off top.

" aw, supey, y'know i'd do anythin' for ya — 'specially after y'came all this way for li'l ol' me in person but ... "

heels click - clack as they bounce off the ledge beneath. she loves this view, where the city lights look like little stars & the factories are just little candles in the distance. good thing he was willing to bring her; she had hopped right into his arms the moment he said he was here off-duty & begged him to fly. she ain't above begging. 'specially if it means she gets to get lost in the vista, in her thoughts. or ... her doubts ? harley has never been able to read herself like she can others. self - denial & all. right now she's caught in the whirlwind. people weren't exaggerating, from the mouth of superman it's easy to believe anything. he could tell her the earth really is flat & what's she gonna do, say no ? it's friggin' superman. but it's been so long, & last time she had a real patient ... would anyone even take her seriously now?? ever?? maybe it's just a prank, 'cause that one time dinah--

blue meets brown. there's no more masks these days & for a second she regrets it. but his smile is easy, his breathing stable, his gaze steady. warm. he means it, all of it. and even if it said it's because black canary needs a break, she knows just from looking at him what he means: i want to give you a chance, too. to work again, to really help people, to connect with others. to have a place. but----no. if batman & superman can trust her, why can't she trust herself?

" ... okay. let's do it! tell canary i'm in! ohmygosh, i'm gonna be a doctor again !! doctor harley in the house!! i'm really gonna--whoa, can you pinch me ?? i'm a li'l dizzy ... "

LISTENING   TO   THE   GEARS   TURNING   IN   HARLEY'S   HEAD   DOESN'T   TAKE   SUPER-HEARING.it's   a   tall   ask   ———   it's   sudden.   several   times,   the   issue   came   up   in   the   league,   and   it   found   itself   deferred   several   times,   too.   not   because   of   a   split   decision,   though.   the   world's   been   on   unsteady   legs   lately   [   ...   ]   there's   always   another   crisis.   it   hangs   over   their   heads   and   makes   them   hesitate   to   do   too   much;   he   can   sympathize.   every   time   he   laces   up   the   boots,   dons   the   cape,   and   bears   the   family   crest,   he   remembers   he's   a   small-town   boy   from   kansas.   no   amount   of   super   speed   or   strength   made   those   challenges   any   less   daunting.

&.   here   he   is,   asking   her   to   bear   a   burden   far   heavier   than   supervillains   or   stray   meteors.   far   more   important   than   some   of   the   league's   most   dangerous   assignments   ———   mental   health   is   no   joke.   being   bulletproof   doesn't   protect   from   the   scars,   the   lingering   wounds   of   trauma   that   can   fester.   more   than   once,   he   led   the   charge   on   mental   health,   not   often   met   with   resistance.   he   is   no   man   of   steel;   he   is   not   impervious   to   sadness   and   grief.   one   pants   leg   at   a   time,   he   takes   what   life   gives   /   he   does   what   he   can   with   his   life.

the   sunkissed   lineaments   of   his   features   relax,   soft   creases   crinkling   at   the   corner   of   his   eyes,   and   never   once   does   he   lose   his   serene   smile.   it's   as   soft   as   the   kiss   of   the   morning   sun;   it   embraces   and   warms.   only   once   does   he   make   his   offer   ———   he   does   not   insist.   he   does   not   attempt   to   wheedle   or   push.   to   put   pressure   on   her   in   such   conditions   [   ...   ]   isn't   right.   she's   entered   a   new   world,   far   from   that   man,   far   from   who   she   used   to   be   &.   emerged   as   something   beautiful.   not   fixed,   no,   but   coming   into   her   own   with   who   she's   become   for   the   better.   it   makes   him   smile   become   a   grin,   a   silly   one   at   that,   surely.   it   must   be   quite   the   sight   of   him   smiling   to   himself   stupidly   while   she   mulls   over   such   a   huge   decision.   it's   clear   as   day   ———   what   bruce   sees   in   her,   he   sees   it   too:   a   better   tomorrow.

he   blinks,   once.   it   takes   a   moment   to   regain   his   bearings   and   shake   off   the   dizzying   radiance   he   caught   in   that   moment.   a   laugh,   deep   and   baritone,   euphony   on   gentle   chords,   leaped   from   his   lips.   he   sets   a   hand   on   her   shoulder,   offering   a   polite   squeeze.   (   not   the   pinch   she   wanted,   but   enough   in   his   eyes.   )

❛   dizzy   already?   and   here   i   was,   hoping   we   could   grab   some   grub.   believe   it   or   not,   a   few   hits   of   sunrays   aren't   all   that   filling.   guess   you   could   say   they're   pretty   ...   a   pretty   light   meal.   ❜

me being strangled by someone who rightfully wants me dead: lmaooo i can't believe how bad u wanna fuck me

i have neglected this blog but ill probably play over here a bit more while kais q runs.

Are you charging for this sage advice, or is sticking your nose into my business just a hobby? / what if we did give ekko and jinx a try

party banter / accepting !

a  biting  remark  sits  on  his  tongue——it  sits,  it  pauses  much  like  her  finger  on  the  trigger.  the  firelights  were  nearby,  exploring  their  own  alleys,  trying  to  tidy  up  the  streets  as  best  they  can.  maybe  it's  ...  foolish,  but  he  figures  she'll  be  here.  guarding  silco's  goods——carving  a  deep  scar  into  the  undercity  again  and  again.  he  wants  to  try  again,  to  stop  this  ...  all  of  this  even  if  only  for  a  moment.  if  only  he  could  turn  back  time——!  that'd  be  the  day.  the  day  he  saves  the  world.  pocketwatch  clicks,  sealed  within  his  pocket  like  a  tiny  heartbeat  made  of  gears  and  seconds.  could  he  have  done  more  if  noticed  those  mere  seconds  in  the  past?

"it's  free  ...  long  as  you're  willing  to  listen."  &  return.  he  pauses,  hesitant.  "powder."

Long live the king

i got this amazing commission from HeloiseArt_ and would highly recommend them!

if you write with my canons I’m sorry you’re doomed by my fickle muse because sometimes they speak to me and sometimes; they do not LMAO