sparrow

this years goals:

Cradled in silver steel, the odd little notebook and it's scribbles looked barely eligible to the keen eyed figure in butler-esk attire moved to place back down the little book with well practiced indifference.

Sparrow shifted in her bed, sleep disturbed by faint noises within her apartment. Like any gothamite with a vague idea of survival skills, she was an incredibly light sleeper. Being slow to wake could and had cost many lives in this city.

It was fortunate how much time the woman's waking made for, the RAVN's head snapping up at the creak of a floorboard and door, already half way stepped away from the entangled mess and creeping with each shift and muted movement in tandem with the owner of the... 'homely' little apartment. The bird scaled upwards, settling to taking perch upon top the fridge as the reporter made her way through the kitchen.

Sparrow blinked upon waking, hand scrambling for her phone to check the time. Exasperation filled her when she saw it was still the early hours of the morning, but she slipped out of bed anyway, half to get some lovely, possibly spiked, water - and half to satisfy the persistant anxiety in the back of her mind that said she'd woken for a reason.

Watching the door closely, talons trembling againsg the top of the fridge, the perched Magpie sat in wait.

The second Sparrow heard a croak, her grip on the bat tightened, and she was halfway to lifting it over her shoulder when she spotted the raven. The sight gave her oause, and her brows furrowed as she stared at it for a few moments before slowly lowering her bat and glancing towards the windows.

"I am the night..." The raven croaked with all the gravel tone of Gotham's dark protector. "I am Justice."

"Justice." The large corvid repeated, the big feathery mass turning its beak to the notepads and scattered mass, shuffling and going to bite at the paperwork—

Flinching back and squarking loudly at the movent, the Gotham born raven quickly scampered to fly to safety— Knocking over several books, scattering papers and screeching his escape!

Sparrow watched, amused as the bird flew up to the ceiling fan. She was surprised it had let her get that close in the first place, so wasn't entirely shocked that it finally had. What did surprise her, however, was the second bird on the fan.

"...Um..."

"Hello." Sparrow greeted back, tone light despite the way her hand itched for the bat. The figure seemed nervous enough that Sparrow could temper this instinct... for the time being. But how long that last... Well.

"Window." The figure pointed, the raven cawwing softly behind the trembling stranger above.

this years goals:

Cradled in silver steel, the odd little notebook and it's scribbles looked barely eligible to the keen eyed figure in butler-esk attire moved to place back down the little book with well practiced indifference.

Sparrow shifted in her bed, sleep disturbed by faint noises within her apartment. Like any gothamite with a vague idea of survival skills, she was an incredibly light sleeper. Being slow to wake could and had cost many lives in this city.

It was fortunate how much time the woman's waking made for, the RAVN's head snapping up at the creak of a floorboard and door, already half way stepped away from the entangled mess and creeping with each shift and muted movement in tandem with the owner of the... 'homely' little apartment. The bird scaled upwards, settling to taking perch upon top the fridge as the reporter made her way through the kitchen.

Sparrow blinked upon waking, hand scrambling for her phone to check the time. Exasperation filled her when she saw it was still the early hours of the morning, but she slipped out of bed anyway, half to get some lovely, possibly spiked, water - and half to satisfy the persistant anxiety in the back of her mind that said she'd woken for a reason.

Watching the door closely, talons trembling againsg the top of the fridge, the perched Magpie sat in wait.

The second Sparrow heard a croak, her grip on the bat tightened, and she was halfway to lifting it over her shoulder when she spotted the raven. The sight gave her oause, and her brows furrowed as she stared at it for a few moments before slowly lowering her bat and glancing towards the windows.

"I am the night..." The raven croaked with all the gravel tone of Gotham's dark protector. "I am Justice."

"Justice." The large corvid repeated, the big feathery mass turning its beak to the notepads and scattered mass, shuffling and going to bite at the paperwork—

Flinching back and squarking loudly at the movent, the Gotham born raven quickly scampered to fly to safety— Knocking over several books, scattering papers and screeching his escape!

Sparrow watched, amused as the bird flew up to the ceiling fan. She was surprised it had let her get that close in the first place, so wasn't entirely shocked that it finally had. What did surprise her, however, was the second bird on the fan.

"...Um..."

"Hello." Sparrow greeted back, tone light despite the way her hand itched for the bat. The figure seemed nervous enough that Sparrow could temper this instinct... for the time being. But how long that last... Well.

this years goals:

Cradled in silver steel, the odd little notebook and it's scribbles looked barely eligible to the keen eyed figure in butler-esk attire moved to place back down the little book with well practiced indifference.

Sparrow shifted in her bed, sleep disturbed by faint noises within her apartment. Like any gothamite with a vague idea of survival skills, she was an incredibly light sleeper. Being slow to wake could and had cost many lives in this city.

It was fortunate how much time the woman's waking made for, the RAVN's head snapping up at the creak of a floorboard and door, already half way stepped away from the entangled mess and creeping with each shift and muted movement in tandem with the owner of the... 'homely' little apartment. The bird scaled upwards, settling to taking perch upon top the fridge as the reporter made her way through the kitchen.

Sparrow blinked upon waking, hand scrambling for her phone to check the time. Exasperation filled her when she saw it was still the early hours of the morning, but she slipped out of bed anyway, half to get some lovely, possibly spiked, water - and half to satisfy the persistant anxiety in the back of her mind that said she'd woken for a reason.

Watching the door closely, talons trembling againsg the top of the fridge, the perched Magpie sat in wait.

The second Sparrow heard a croak, her grip on the bat tightened, and she was halfway to lifting it over her shoulder when she spotted the raven. The sight gave her oause, and her brows furrowed as she stared at it for a few moments before slowly lowering her bat and glancing towards the windows.

"I am the night..." The raven croaked with all the gravel tone of Gotham's dark protector. "I am Justice."

"Justice." The large corvid repeated, the big feathery mass turning its beak to the notepads and scattered mass, shuffling and going to bite at the paperwork—

Flinching back and squarking loudly at the movent, the Gotham born raven quickly scampered to fly to safety— Knocking over several books, scattering papers and screeching his escape!

Sparrow watched, amused as the bird flew up to the ceiling fan. She was surprised it had let her get that close in the first place, so wasn't entirely shocked that it finally had. What did surprise her, however, was the second bird on the fan.

this years goals:

Cradled in silver steel, the odd little notebook and it's scribbles looked barely eligible to the keen eyed figure in butler-esk attire moved to place back down the little book with well practiced indifference.

Sparrow shifted in her bed, sleep disturbed by faint noises within her apartment. Like any gothamite with a vague idea of survival skills, she was an incredibly light sleeper. Being slow to wake could and had cost many lives in this city.

It was fortunate how much time the woman's waking made for, the RAVN's head snapping up at the creak of a floorboard and door, already half way stepped away from the entangled mess and creeping with each shift and muted movement in tandem with the owner of the... 'homely' little apartment. The bird scaled upwards, settling to taking perch upon top the fridge as the reporter made her way through the kitchen.

Sparrow blinked upon waking, hand scrambling for her phone to check the time. Exasperation filled her when she saw it was still the early hours of the morning, but she slipped out of bed anyway, half to get some lovely, possibly spiked, water - and half to satisfy the persistant anxiety in the back of her mind that said she'd woken for a reason.

Watching the door closely, talons trembling againsg the top of the fridge, the perched Magpie sat in wait.

The second Sparrow heard a croak, her grip on the bat tightened, and she was halfway to lifting it over her shoulder when she spotted the raven. The sight gave her oause, and her brows furrowed as she stared at it for a few moments before slowly lowering her bat and glancing towards the windows.

"I am the night..." The raven croaked with all the gravel tone of Gotham's dark protector. "I am Justice."

"Justice." The large corvid repeated, the big feathery mass turning its beak to the notepads and scattered mass, shuffling and going to bite at the paperwork—

this years goals:

Cradled in silver steel, the odd little notebook and it's scribbles looked barely eligible to the keen eyed figure in butler-esk attire moved to place back down the little book with well practiced indifference.

Sparrow shifted in her bed, sleep disturbed by faint noises within her apartment. Like any gothamite with a vague idea of survival skills, she was an incredibly light sleeper. Being slow to wake could and had cost many lives in this city.

It was fortunate how much time the woman's waking made for, the RAVN's head snapping up at the creak of a floorboard and door, already half way stepped away from the entangled mess and creeping with each shift and muted movement in tandem with the owner of the... 'homely' little apartment. The bird scaled upwards, settling to taking perch upon top the fridge as the reporter made her way through the kitchen.

Sparrow blinked upon waking, hand scrambling for her phone to check the time. Exasperation filled her when she saw it was still the early hours of the morning, but she slipped out of bed anyway, half to get some lovely, possibly spiked, water - and half to satisfy the persistant anxiety in the back of her mind that said she'd woken for a reason.

Watching the door closely, talons trembling againsg the top of the fridge, the perched Magpie sat in wait.

The second Sparrow heard a croak, her grip on the bat tightened, and she was halfway to lifting it over her shoulder when she spotted the raven. The sight gave her oause, and her brows furrowed as she stared at it for a few moments before slowly lowering her bat and glancing towards the windows.

"I am the night..." The raven croaked with all the gravel tone of Gotham's dark protector. "I am Justice."

this years goals:

Cradled in silver steel, the odd little notebook and it's scribbles looked barely eligible to the keen eyed figure in butler-esk attire moved to place back down the little book with well practiced indifference.

Sparrow shifted in her bed, sleep disturbed by faint noises within her apartment. Like any gothamite with a vague idea of survival skills, she was an incredibly light sleeper. Being slow to wake could and had cost many lives in this city.

It was fortunate how much time the woman's waking made for, the RAVN's head snapping up at the creak of a floorboard and door, already half way stepped away from the entangled mess and creeping with each shift and muted movement in tandem with the owner of the... 'homely' little apartment. The bird scaled upwards, settling to taking perch upon top the fridge as the reporter made her way through the kitchen.

Sparrow blinked upon waking, hand scrambling for her phone to check the time. Exasperation filled her when she saw it was still the early hours of the morning, but she slipped out of bed anyway, half to get some lovely, possibly spiked, water - and half to satisfy the persistant anxiety in the back of her mind that said she'd woken for a reason.

Watching the door closely, talons trembling againsg the top of the fridge, the perched Magpie sat in wait.

The second Sparrow heard a croak, her grip on the bat tightened, and she was halfway to lifting it over her shoulder when she spotted the raven. The sight gave her oause, and her brows furrowed as she stared at it for a few moments before slowly lowering her bat and glancing towards the windows.

this years goals:

Cradled in silver steel, the odd little notebook and it's scribbles looked barely eligible to the keen eyed figure in butler-esk attire moved to place back down the little book with well practiced indifference.

Sparrow shifted in her bed, sleep disturbed by faint noises within her apartment. Like any gothamite with a vague idea of survival skills, she was an incredibly light sleeper. Being slow to wake could and had cost many lives in this city.

It was fortunate how much time the woman's waking made for, the RAVN's head snapping up at the creak of a floorboard and door, already half way stepped away from the entangled mess and creeping with each shift and muted movement in tandem with the owner of the... 'homely' little apartment. The bird scaled upwards, settling to taking perch upon top the fridge as the reporter made her way through the kitchen.

Sparrow blinked upon waking, hand scrambling for her phone to check the time. Exasperation filled her when she saw it was still the early hours of the morning, but she slipped out of bed anyway, half to get some lovely, possibly spiked, water - and half to satisfy the persistant anxiety in the back of her mind that said she'd woken for a reason.

this years goals:

Cradled in silver steel, the odd little notebook and it's scribbles looked barely eligible to the keen eyed figure in butler-esk attire moved to place back down the little book with well practiced indifference.

Sparrow shifted in her bed, sleep disturbed by faint noises within her apartment. Like any gothamite with a vague idea of survival skills, she was an incredibly light sleeper. Being slow to wake could and had cost many lives in this city.