*DEAD / SHOT

I didn’t think that the killing joke movie could possibly be as bad as everyone said it was but holy christ was I wrong

mediocre voice acting from just about everyone except kevin conroy and mark hamill, mediocre animation, and that entire prologue with batgirl was the most unnecessary load of crap I could’ve possibly imagined even if they hadn’t bolted on the PG-13 sex scene 

Also, on a more general note; following, unfollowing, and re-following me in an attempt to get me to notice you is liable to get you blocked. 

She raised an eyebrow at the accusation.  There was no need for insults after all. They’d been having such a pleasant conversation so far.

“I haven’t a clue what you mean.”

What troubled her most about the ordeal wasn’t that she had ordered the death of the entire pride– that truly was unfortunate– but that if Damian found out, he’d have yet another item to add to the list of things he would never forgive her for.

Honestly, she thought that was likely to be the least of her mortal sins, but he was unlikely to see it that way.

“Reminiscence aside, I’ve an offer for you, if you are in fact still in the game.”

“Don’t play coy,” Floyd suggests evenly. “It don’t suit you.”

He folds his arms across the crosshair on his chest as he leans back against the wall. It’s not intended to be a symbolic gesture; equally, the way he drums the fingers of his right hand idly above the elbow joint of his right arm is simply a way of keeping his finger busy, but there’s little doubt in his mind that his old shrink would have something to say about it.

Mind you, Marnie always had a lot to say about the stuff he did, both on and off the couch.

“Wasn’t expecting company,” Floyd admits, casting a glance around the room, not focusing on any of the bullet-riddled bodies for more than a moment as he gestures expansively at the ground. “’Cept for these stiffs, anyway.”

A flicker of movement from the corner of his peripheral vision snaps his gaze back to Wanda. The witch’s hands are moving; he’s not sure what it is she’s planning to do, but whatever it is, it’s playing hell with his optics. 

Damn magical types, he finds himself thinking. I try and take a shot at her, I’ll be lucky if all she does is wiggle her nose, click her heels and turn my guns into fluffy bunny rabbits. Gotta be smart about this.