#crow-cavalry

The first thing the creature sensed was warmth. Even before they opened their eyes they felt a presence approaching.

Instinct took over, a low warning growl rumbling in their throat.

And then a voice, gentle and steady, broke through the quiet.

“…can you at least tell me your name?”

Name? They didn’t really have one. The Watcher, Crow Whisperer, were more titles than names.

Their eyes fluttered open, a hazy figure coming into view.

The first thing they noticed were his eyes, unmistakably kind and weary, studying them with a look of concern.

Concern about what?

A slight shift in position and the subsequent stabbing pain in their side quickly reminded them why they were slumped in an alleyway.

Stab wound. Right. The shock or something must’ve made them momentarily black out.

Eh, typical night on Gotham.

The injured creature regarded the man warily, their slitted yellow eyes tracking his movements like a skittish animal.

Should they bite him?

Not yet. He hasn’t made any sudden moves that could be quantified as threatening.

>. Before every heist, before every infiltration job, Binary always carefully investigated the location in question. And this one would be no different.

What has started the whole ordeal had been a lead on a phone number - affiliated with Scarecrow. And everyone in her viscinity was aware that she hated the man no matter what -- and anyone who went to affiliate themselves with him had to endure the same kind of suspicion.

Shoot first, ask questions later. Always worked.

Binary had barely crossed the threeshold of the club before the whole air around had turned electric. The venue itself was magnetic, pulsating with a crowd of people -- and Binary was able to sneak in within barely getting looked at. It was easy to do so when the Bouncer was busy looking elsewhere on his phone -- because why on earth would a catfish profile of his mother otherwise be calling so late?

"Hnn."

God, she hated places like this. But the location of that phone number had led here here. And there was nowhere else to go but deeper inside the rabbit hole to find out exactly what and whom she was dealing with.<

The corpse's expression had been twisted into one of pure anguish. Jonathan crouched down, staring at the bloody face in front of him, brushing the hair out of the lab rat's face to better assess the damage. The copycat's toxins had ruptured her veins, bursting them, and causing blood to seep out through her eyes and ears.

When pain is so absolute and all consuming, it leaves no room for fear. Jonathan himself has had to modify his toxins enough to compensate for that.

His gloved hands pulled away from her body, to retrieve a tie for his hair. As he did, he glanced up at the rooftops, scanning for his associate's silhouette. Or, at the very least, one of their crows.

G materialized from the shadows, clad in their usual gear, Bertha perched on their shoulder.

They surveyed the corpse before them, gaze flickering briefly before returning to their usual flat expression.

Jonathan sets the last vial down, glancing up and half expecting G to have left the room by now. And yet. There they were. Odd.

He considered whether or not he should explain all the steps in this process, as he stands and moves to another table to start trying to extract the toxin from the blood.

Going back and forth on how much to share, and how much to keep secret.

He’s found that people are unsettled by the explanations of his work, the process, and its effects. While fear and discomfort are his forte, Jonathan supposes that it’s not the best idea to antagonize his associates with them.

G glances up from the papers spread out on the desk and watches him shift to another table.

“Are you doing the toxin analysis now?”

Closed starter with @dividedbybinaries

———————————————————

This was not the typical place The Watcher would frequent.

Too loud, too many patrons bumbling around, minds addled with booze and the urge to make rash decisions.

Too enclosed.

But they were a frequent patron in spite of the distain, the Lounge was a hotbed of information, especially so with the abundance of alcohol.

The Watcher did what they did best; watched and listened, making a mental tally of all the threads of information they overheard.

There were at least 2 people having affairs, a drug shipment being planned, someone figuring out the logistics of poisoning their boss, and at least a handful drinking their feelings away.

Everyone behold this silly doodle I drew based on a discord convo with @dividedbybinaries

I had the best epiphany the other day that G’s crows would have witnessed @nightshiftmedic patching up their stab wound.

Yk how crows remember who’s kind to their own? Yeah, Chiaki is getting adopted by a big ass flock of crows

Saw @doctor-jonathan-crane do these so I thought I’d give it a whirl!

Difficult Person Test Likable Person Test

Pretty accurate for G tbh. They’re very prone to suspicion and manipulation comes with the job, gotta get info somehow. Definitely a calculated risk taker too.