* not quite a bat,

𝙸 𝚆𝙸𝙻𝙻 𝙵𝙻𝚈 𝙾𝙽 𝚂𝙲𝙾𝚁𝙲𝙷𝙴𝙳 𝚆𝙸𝙽𝙶𝚂. carol danvers from marvel comics, adapted into a modern spy verse. written by rika. est june 2017.

I hope no one's on a wedding diet. Oh, no, not today. I'm starving.

IT'S JUMPY AND JARRING , standing in jason's presence with all the conflict and adrenaline in their veins — the mall , jason indicates , is their new destination , and the second he picks up the pace , sebastian follows . he , too , sees the blood on his companion's hands after running his fingers through his hair , and the concern he feels starts to grow , INTENSIFY . why the mall ? where are they — let me clean up myself , jason indicates , and that makes sense . there are signs for a public restroom , and that must be where jason is leading them . SEBASTIAN KEEPS UP THE PACE AND FOLLOWS CLOSELY BEHIND . ❝ i'm well off , ❞ he assures jason once he gets the are you okay question , gesturing away from himself . whatever wounds , bruises , or cuts he's got , he'll take care of them later , too . ❝ as long as we get out of here and . . . and we keep those bastards off us — that's all i need . just glad to see you still standing . ❞ the mall is a dizzy crawl of crowded passerby with too many bags and too many squealing children , so the side hallway with the nearest bathrooms is a vacation , a retreat . sebastian checks around for any other occupants , FINDS NONE , and hastily locks the door to give them privacy . a tired sigh . ❝ need me to look at anything ? ❞ he joins jason at the sinks . ❝ you look mighty wrecked , unfortunately , but it's nothing you can't come back from . ❞ sebastian notes a new soreness in his side and lifts his shirt to find a bruise there — his face changes , lips curling in disgust . ❝ christ . what a fun tuesday , huh . eventful . such shite . HOW'S YOUR HEAD ? ❞

𝐁𝐄𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐃  𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌;  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊  𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐒  𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎  𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄⸺    &    all noises  vanish  like  they  are  cut  off  from  the  outside  world.  In here,  mostly  isolated,  neither  Sebastian  nor  Jason  must  worry about  being  followed.  It's  unlikely,  at  least,  as  far  as  Jason  is concerned,  who  draws  a  deep  breath  and  puts  both  of  his hands  flatly  against  the  countertop  to  brace  himself.  Indeed,  it's nothing  he  can't  come  back  from,  words  of  encouragement which  prompt  a  quiet  laugh  from  Jason  and  a  sideways  glance towards  the  other  man.  If  only  Sebastian  knew.  “Welcome  to Gotham  City,”  Jason  exhales,  amused,  the  corner  of  his  lips twitching.  Really,  all  in  all,  it  couldn't  be  more  authentic  why Gotham  is  heaven  &  hell  in  one  place,  and  Jason,  although notably  marked  by  the  city,  just  can't  imagine  himself  anywhere else.  “We'll  live,”  with  a  few  bumps  &  bruises,  and  hopefully  a pride  in  good  order  despite  all.  “At  least  they  didn't  get  to  our faces?”,  again,  he's  going  for  humor  to  lighten  the  mood. Looking  down  on  his  hands  again,  Jason  rolls  up  his  sleeves and  turns  on  the  faucet.  He's  washing  his  hands  first  before Jason  bends  over  the  sink  to  wash  his  hair;  blood  stained  water eventually  turning  crystal  clear.  It's  not  ideal  either;  dripping  wet hair  &  water  stained  clothes;  however,  he  feels  more  present again.  No  dizziness  and  no  leftover  shards  seem  like  a  good sign.  “Sorry  about  that,”  he  nods  at  Sebastian's  side,  at  the bruise,  his  nose  wrinkling.  “I  didn't  mean  to  pull  you  into  that mess,”  straighten  up  again,  he's  looking  at  Sebastian  with  a steady  eye  contact,  his  mind  quite  made  up  how  he  intends  to deal  with  these  assholes.  “This  is  Gotham  City.  It  shouldn't  be too  hard  to  figure  out  who  they  are,  if  they  make  it  a  habit  to be  a  nuisance,  and  if  someone  should  pay  them  a  visit  to  tell them  where  to  get  off.”

Albert Camus, The Misunderstanding (1943)

Carlos Reyes | 3.13 “Riddle of the Sphynx”

the bottom of your spine presses into the wall you’re leaning on  ,      bent over at the hip with hands on your knees  :a picture of exhaustion  ,      physically   &*   beyond  .      it’s been a good night  ,      &*   you can   appreciate   that fact  ,      but when he poses the question you can’t help but straighten your spine at the idea  .      “oh my god  ,   ”      the words come out like a sigh  ,      &*   you’re already moving past him with an energy   you swore you didn’t have   only a few seconds ago  .      the prospects of getting to do something that   mimicked normality   bringing too much excitement to allow you to just sit still  .      “   that is   honestly  ,      the best idea anyone has had all night  .      i don’t even know where to   get   nachos  .   ”      you shrug  ,      &*   despite it  ,      you’re still walking ahead as if you have any sense of direction  .      “   where are we going  ?      i’m   so   fucking hungry right now  .   ”

𝐍𝐎𝐖  𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓  𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐒  𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄  𝐀  𝐓𝐄𝐍⸺    &    let's  be  real,  who  in their  right  mind  wouldn't  be  excited?  For  Jason,  it's  not  even just  the  prospect  of  food.  In  truth,  he's  more  than  agreeable with  camaraderie  and  the  rush  of  adrenaline  upon  communal energy  than  he's  been  given  credit  for.  Watching  Jules  bouncing off  into  an  unknown  direction,  he's  biting  down  on  an  amused smile,  his  eyes  beaming  with  an  inner  light.  “Crime  Alley,”  he directs  her,  onto  one  of  Gotham's  most  notorious  districts, home,  a  place  &  its  people  fighting  against  misgivings  & prejudice,  and,  at  times,  (  most  of  the  time,  )  his  pride  &  joy. They  arrive  at  a  Mexican  restaurant,  Taqueria  Diana,  not  much later,  and  Jason  immediately  slides  into  one  of  the  quieter booths,  leaning  against  the  padded  backrest  with  a  deep  sigh. His  muscles  ache,  and  it  seems  like  exhaustion  is  catching  up with  him,  too.  Upon  the  arrival  of  a  server  at  their  table,  Jason perks  up,  more  than  eager  to  get  the  menu.  “I  recommend their  Iced  Hibiscus  Tea,  it's  insanely  good,”  he  notes, suggests, with  a  quick  glance  across  the  table  at  Jules.  The menu  itself It's  a  simple  one,  really,  street  food  classics  lik tacos,  burritos, quesadillas,  and  nachos.  His  stomach  already rolls  over  and Jason  realizes;  he's  famished,  and  he  can't  wait to  order.

“ towels or … maybe bandages could stop me bleeding, ” they note, deadpan, “ you should really fetch some. i am your guest and you don’t want to be rude, so … i am fine, by the way, ” blood pools out by their boot as they speak, as if to accentuate their point, “ thank you for asking. ”