#GRAWL1X ⸻ also known as obscenicon, grawlix refers to the series of typographical symbols (such as @#$%&!) used in cartoons and comic strips to represent swear words. a low-key, low-activity, and just for fun multimuse rp blog featuring characters who are at least six degrees of separation from lex luthor.

Part of Taylor Presents: Frankie's Big Universe

LINKS: MEMES ⬦ ICON BORDER ⬦ PINNED ⬦ ICON CREDITS BLOGROLL: Lex Luthor ⬦ Mr. Terrific ⬦ Batman ⬦ Brainiac

" you didn't. "

     oh, but he did. the leftover general tso's chicken and chow mein john henry was looking forward to finishing off had been reduced to a few nuggets that were more breading than chicken, some stray noodles, and plenty of vegetables. even if the kid hadn't fessed up, the fact that not even a super appetite could convince him to eat his veggies is more than enough evidence to point towards him being the culprit—it's the exact kind of thing a kid would do, after all.

     well, when you let the fox guard the hen house… john henry sighs, unceremoniously dropping the boxes into the trash (but mainly to cover up the sound of his stomach rumbling with hunger). " guess who just volunteered to order us a pizza from titano's? that's right, kid: you did. " he places a firm hand on @metroskid's shoulder and gives it a squeeze.

     the chunk of plasterboard partition that designates clark's office space creaks under jimmy's weight as he practically crawls over it. either he heard his pal wrong, or lex luthor has finally figured out superman's secret identity and is using that information to sabotage the daily planet's winning streak by orchestrating some kind of faux shady business dealings on the other side of the world for one of their best investigative reports (who also happens to be their best pitcher) to cover at the exact same time as their yearly match!

     those are the only two options that make any sense!

" can't ron go, instead? isn't world news more his thing? " perry didn't already give this the green light, did he? surely the chief knows what all's at stake here! " I don't like our chances without you, clark! especially since the guy who's probably going to take your position is... steve. "

     jimmy shudders, much to the partition's distress. he's not sure which would be worse: losing and having to deal with lexcomm's employees' mockery until next year, or winning and having to deal with steve bragging about being the reason why they won for... well, ever.

     john watches the boys race each other back to the house. smiles to himself when their brotherly bickering is cut short (at least, to his ears) by the door closing behind them. " already got my hands full with nat, can't imagine raising another one, " he continues, glancing around the farm. it's not that he and lo—his wife—hadn't thought about expanding their family, it's just... the timing was never right.

     john has often wondered if having a sibling would have made everything more manageable for natalie, or if it would have just doubled the grief. this usually leads to him thinking about his own sister, and he's still not sure if it's for better or worse. but he does know he wouldn't change a thing, and maybe that's enough of an answer.

" for what it's worth, you two make it look easy. "

     jack mutes the television. he takes a long drag off his cigarette, releasing a smoke-filled sigh that ends in what almost sounds like heh. he tilts his head back to acknowledge @doctordread's arrival. " you've been enjoying your latest visit to gotham, I see, " he says, jaw muscles pulled taut like the strings that hold hers together, and returns to his previous position. what follows is begrudging acquiescence and a phrase he hasn't used in quite some time: " good work. "

     gordon is dead. batman is believed to be responsible. the people are turning against their false savior. balance returns to the scales of the universe. jack taps the end of his cigarette against an ashtray before taking another puff. " I have a meeting in washington tomorrow morning with cale. while I'm gone, I want you to coordinate with wilson on the robin program. have the kids help their dear auntie adelaide, " he says dryly, exhaling plumes of smoke from both nostrils.

     the puppet tilts his head back and opens his mouth, allowing his partner to place a cigarette between the fixed upper lip and the hinged lower jaw, which she then lights for him. " since I couldn't rely on my usual contacts t'get in touch, figured we'd lure ya out with a buncha jewels dat're almost as pretty as little miss sugar here, " scarface explains, giving the woman's exposed thigh a pet.

" you're too good to me, honey, " she practically purrs, too enamored with her maple wood man to spare so much as a glance at the thief.

" we gotta job dat needs doin' fer a woman of yer particular skill set, and I'd be willin' to pay extra fer puttin' ya through all dis trouble. and if ya do real good, den we'll even throw in dem jewels as a nice bonus. "

     the woman finally looks up at @nightstolen, her red lips curving into a smile that's as sensual as it is insidious.

     they say no visit to gotham is complete without at least one attempt on your life. this might be the first time @teschmacher's gotten it from a darci lynne farmer wannabe, though, so it's nice to know there's still some novelty left to be had in the whole experience. who knew they made tommy guns that small and still able to shoot real bullets?

" honey, I really don't think— "

" no, youse really don't! or you'd think twice before interruptin' me! " the puppet interjects, looking up at his handler while he waves his little arms about in an exasperated manner. his head swivels back towards eve. " da only bimbo I wanna hear from right now is dis one. "

" now you listen an' listen good, sweetheart: I'm givin' ya one chance and one chance only to spill it before I spill yer guts! " he waves his gun at eve with unprecedented precision, given how floppy his arms are. " what were ya doin' at johnny sabatino's club? ya little boytoy lookin' t'cut a deal with dat slimeball? sendin' his woman t'scout out da neighborhood instead of doin' da dirty work himself?! "

" mr. scarface, sir, please, " peyton blurts out, placing a gloved hand on the dummy's torso in what seems to be an attempt to calm him down.