#dappercrime

"You want a teenage boy's personal phone number in your logs?" Robin raised a brow. "You think the pigs won't immediately jump on that? Or the news?"

@dappercrime sent:

“feels like i'm talking to a wall.”

PROMPTS FOR PEOPLE WHO DON'T SAY MUCH

🦇—-;; White lenses narrow briefly at that, though not outwardly offended by the statement, the Batman isn't exactly a well of riveting conversation right now. Bruce doesn't owe him anything either far as he's concerned. Still, his head turns and he watches the man briefly, his brow raises slightly and there is a quiet snort given. Despite what it seems, the detective was listening to him, but the Bat remained stubbornly silent, for the moment.

He shifts, weight leaning from left to right leg as he turns his body slightly, it's very obvious he's watching the other man, he's also listening around him for any other problems. Fingers finding the edge of his cape which he pulls around his body, lifting it slightly to avoid it getting caught.

First Impressions || Accepting!

"You'll have to be more specific. I've heard a lot of things said about me."

That he's insane for believing he can communicate with rats, that he's good at keeping an eye on any perimeter, that he smells like an Ohio outhouse, that he can learn things from conversations he was never present for, that he's a coward who runs at the first sign of trouble...

Usually, Silas was quiet at work. Doing the kind of jobs that he did, the best process was to keep your head down, get your work done without any questions, take your pay, and leave. Wash, Rinse, Repeat.

So when he was working a shift at the docks, moving in crates labelled 'wine import' that sounded and felt more like heavy pieces of metal thunking together than glass, he'd had to make a rather important decision, in the form of whether to let the goods get stolen and hope himself and the guys didn't get skinned for it later, or to go above the wonderfully useful and rather strict job description he was given on hiring a few months prior of 'unload, move out, fuck off', when he turned the corner at the back of the boat, wooden box straining his arms, to come face to face with a sawn off shotgun barrel.

He wasn't unfamiliar with a good brawl. He wasn't unfamiliar with killing. But a shogun in his face when his arms are full? Even he wasn't that stupid. Or, well, maybe....

"Easy, man- easy.." He muttered, eyes flicking past the masked figure's shoulder- Apparently all but himself and the youngest- who was still bringing the truck around -had made a run for it, as he caught sight of the rest of the guys' backs rounding a warehouse corner in the distance. Great. With a low sigh, after a gruff voice growled for him to 'put that shit down!'... he did. Turning his back to slowly set down the heavy crate with an, "alright man, back up, I'm putting it down-" Before, perhaps rather stupidly, risking it all on a sharp, sudden, hard kick behind himself, putting all his strength into it, like a spooked horse- a hard crack as his boot crashed into the assailants kneecap- and by some miracle the finger on the trigger didn't pull til the barrel was pointed skyward as the figure staggered back with a curse.

He didn't remember much after that- a couple of fists to the face, something sharp and silver sinking into his side just above his hip- his own fists burning, how surprisingly sharp jaw bone felt on his kneecap, a second figure jumping out of a van, and in using it to down the newcomer while they fumbled for a pistol, he recalled what the boxes were actually transporting, when he'd broken one across the assailants head, and as expected there was no wine in sight, but instead a set of handguns and hay used for padding scattering across the ground. The irony.

Eventually, in the blur, though he'd not been unscathed, Silas came out on top- in far better shape than the two attempted thieves had, even with the pocketknife still sticking out of his hip, the scrap though it felt an age only having taken a couple of minutes, when the simple white truck they used for moving goods came rolling round the corner, with a very wide eyed, very confused young man behind the wheel,

"The hell happened, man?!"

"...I think we ought to give Mr Ellerby a call, the big boss is gonna wanna know about this." Wiping a little blood from his chin, finger turned to probe along the side of his teeth- none missing or cracked. That was something at least, dragging himself over to the hastily parked truck to sit on the steps up to the cab, hand carefully cradling the pocket knife- didn't look like it was in too deep, but he wasn't dumb enough to pull it out until he had something to pack it with. Even if he was dumb enough to go against a shotgun.

❝ I wanna fucking tear you apart ❞

[Valentine's Alphabet Meme from @dappercrime.]

Embrace, gift, & jealousy

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E   :   EMBRACE.   does your muse like hugs? what are their hugs like?

Thera loves hugs from people she knows. With knew acquaintances she'd really rather they didn't, and strangers she's just met are right out. What her hugs are like depends on the person and the situation. They can vary from tight but then relax, the quick 'hi' or 'bye' kind where the arms go around but their bodies barely touch, to long, deep and lasting hugs for lovers and especially with old and trusted friends.

G   :   GIFT.   is your muse good at gift - giving or do they struggle to get it right?

It depends on how long she's known the person. One thing she's especially good at is casually observing the people she spends time with. She notices what they like, what their interests are, favourite brands or flavours; just enough that when or if she sees something they might like, she buys it for them.

J   :   JEALOUSY.   does your muse get jealous in a relationship?

In a nutshell, yes. It is, however, a matter of circumstance and degrees. Is the partner being approached by the other person, or is he actively engaging? Worse, has he started it? In the first case Thera would just casually stroll up, put a hand on his shoulder and ask a question, making it clear he's spoken for. If the other person doesn't back off (or just 'oops sorry didn't realise'), things will escalate - often she'll have permission from her partner to say or do so (and she's known some smug bastards who enjoy it!).