#6clawed

jonathan smells. when was the last time we gave him a bath?

“he‎ ‎ doesn’t‎ ‎ stink!!”‎ ‎ gabby‎ ‎ cries‎ ‎ out‎ ‎ in‎ ‎ defence‎ ‎ —‎ ‎ or‎ ‎ rather,‎ ‎ furiously‎ ‎ whispers‎ ‎ with‎ ‎ the‎ ‎ zeal‎ ‎ of‎ ‎ a‎ ‎ defence‎ ‎ lawyer‎ ‎ since‎ ‎ the‎ ‎ four-legged‎ ‎ creature‎ ‎ in‎ ‎ question‎ ‎ is‎ ‎ currently‎ ‎ taking‎ ‎ a‎ ‎ nap.‎ ‎ on‎ ‎ the‎ ‎ sofa.‎ ‎ directly‎ ‎ on‎ ‎ top‎ ‎ of‎ ‎ the‎ ‎ book‎ ‎ that‎ ‎ laura‎ ‎ was‎ ‎ reading.‎ ‎ he's‎ ‎ comfy,‎ ‎ okay?

[𝒜]nd the Robin labascates, his mother once told him he was isangelous, as though such a word might be spoken and not weigh upon the tongue. He keeps it still, as one remembers angelus from childhood, returning unbidden at the hour of trial. He stands near unto revelation, and the au courant krioboly waits upon the threshold of knowing. Yet he knows himself too well to abide the comfort of sanctification. 𝐼𝑛𝑜𝑐𝑐𝑖𝑑𝑢𝑜𝑢𝑠٫ says Bruce, praising what does not wither. 𝐼𝑛𝑔𝑜𝑟𝑑𝑖𝑔𝑖𝑜𝑢𝑠٫ says Damian, scorning what does not spare. Thus he is lauded and thus he is lowered, and in neither does he find absolution. ℋe was never the prescited ℛobin, never hailed by prophecy nor spared by foretelling, as though the mantle were ever granted without cost.

Choice has always stood beside him, stern as a confessor. Not mercy. Not malice. A thing borne. A thing owed. It is both everything and nothing. 𝑇𝑖𝑚 𝐷𝑟𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝘩𝑎𝑠 𝑎 𝑐𝘩𝑜𝑖𝑐𝑒. And by that knowing, he is bound.

❛ I’m not dying tonight. ❜ He says it sternly, though his body betrays him. His hand, decutient, closes over hers where she presses the wound; blood has made her grip unclean, his warmth yet holding in her hand. The slash at his abdomen gapes like a mouth taught only one word: more. ❛ ‘Ya hear that, Kinney ? So, put more pressure, yeah ? I can take it. ❜ The blood answers first, welling [ dark and earnest ] soaking cloth and skin alike. And still, against reason, he smiles at her ! The thought comes unbidden, thin and statistical: this happens often ( such scaevity ) Missions ending in measure ... how much can be lost before the sum is paid ? He does not judge it. He cannot. What authority has a mortal who bleeds only crimson, never ichor, whose body opens like any other when cut true ?

IS ANYTHING EVER REALLY EASY? kara knows better than to expect a tasty piece of cake walkthrough, but, alright, sue her for being a little optimistic ! the keys are starting to stick under the press of her fingers and it gives her the impression she's maybe hammering on them a little too harshly, frustration a tick in the hinge of her jaw. she briefly considers just lasering right through the computer screen, problem solved and she never has to look at it again --- which is when she takes a breath and straightens from leaning over the desk, palms thrown outward in surrender whilst she swivels to laura's other side, leaving the space open.