#likeamantra

the boy drags his feet through the compound, half asleep and bleary-eyed. it's late at night,  but he can't sleep and he's not sure who is home, so he's not sure if there's anyone he can talk to. 

he punches in the keycode for jason's level and the door creaks when it opens, dispelling compressed air at the same time. it blows his  unruly bangs away from his eyes and he tiredly  swipes them back into place as he meanders  through the level. 

eventually he spots the light of a holo-pad  casting jason's face into sharp, blue shadows.  dick walks over, drapes his arms over jason's neck from the back of the couch, mumbles,

Hope these help!

Her fellow snakes have cornered a few known mudbloods and are, essentially, bullying them. What is Charlotte thinking when she sees this? Does she act? And what do her snakes notice about her action — or inaction?

How does she react when the portrait of her great-grandmother (or great-great-great grandmother, who really knows?), Elizabeth Burke, starts screaming at her? What is Charlotte doing when that occurs and how do Elizabeth’s words affect her?

Sorry, my mistake. I'll fix all of that right away!

Blaise is closed. The last Slytherin wizard we have is Theo Nott. We are taking application of characters that are not listened, however no OCs just yet.

Nearly all of the heroes in this city were chalked up to "just stories." People used to tell their kids that The Batman would come and get them if they were bad. Dick remembered when his mother did the exact same thing and it worked, too, because he always ended up in bed on time. Nowadays, everyone knew Batman was real. Batman had saved the day. Batman had sacrificed himself and given up his legacy to his little ineffective underlings.

The lesser known vigilantes were the ones stuck in legends and folktales, either struggling hard to find recognition or trying their damnedest to stay in the shadows. Hardly anyone knew about the Black Canary or the Spoiler or Manhunter. It was a bat that shined in the sky when the GCPD was having trouble, not an arrow or a fancy "S." The Red Hood (and his Outlaws, to a lesser degree) was an enigma to most people. The rumors about him had spread like wildfire after The Occupation, but the general populace didn't believe in his existence. Dick knew that he had gone underground right after the terrorist cells were rounded up and shipped off to some prison in Louisiana. Only those who had seen him in action knew that he was real-- knew who he was, what he did and how he did it. He was merciless and successful in his brutality. He knew what he was doing and exactly how to do it. Dick desperately needed that.

The Hood operated almost exclusively within a twenty mile radius of the Narrows. Dick hadn't managed to catalogue any sighting of the vigilante anywhere else and he had stationed himself around all parts of the city over the last few weeks. He had been tracking Hood's movements for one purpose--to meet. After watching the Outlaws protect their little patch of territory during Bane's war, Dick knew that he had found someone to help him and do for him what Bruce, in all his self-righteousness, wouldn't even think about.

At fourteen, he wasn't much of a vandal. What possessions he had were kept clean and utterly safe, so destroying property was a new thing for him. It was the only way to get Hood's attention, however--short of tracking the guy for months upon months to see if he had a pattern to intercept. It was easier to get Hood to come to him. 

After smashing in three storefront windows, hijacking a motorcycle and crashing it into a shady mafia-owned restaurant, causing three alley fires, and starting a mad brawl between about six or seven smelly vagrants all within three successive nights, Dick made his way up to the top of his usual building to wait, perching himself on the edge of the roof so he could watch the fight he started play out. He had made sure to leave evidence of himself along with a 'calling card'--a crudely spray-painted red bat--wherever he could. The brick building he was at had the same bat painted on its side and the teenager had made sure to come here every night, just in case.

If he were lucky, Red Hood would show up. (If he were very unlucky, Batman would show up instead, but Dick liked to think that the universe couldn't possibly hate him that much.) If he never showed, he'd keep at it until he landed himself in prison, until he got what he wanted, until it killed him. He had already acquired a few bruises and some glass shards in his arm. Neither of the injuries hurt too badly, but it wasn't exactly what he would call fun.

Kory walked away from Lindsey in the same way she expected Jason did - regretfully, but with purpose. It was unfair, she knew, to leave Lindsey by herself again when the entire point of going to the complex was to make sure she was okay, but circumstances had changed drastically since when the power went out an hour prior. Instead of curling up on Jason's couch and watching a movie with Lindsey like she had intended, she was heading down to the armory to suit up for the first time in over a year. As the elevator door opened, she stepped out into the armory. Henri, who was seated at a desk, looked up at her with a brow slightly furrowed.

"Koriand'r," he said, nodding at her.

She smiled briefly at him, eyes scanning the room. "I assume my suits are in the same place?" The man shook his head.

"Redstone updated your suit along with Jason's. Same basic concept as last the last one - bulletproof, crush proof, et cetera. Firestars are now incorporated into the armor itself, though, which means that anyone who tries to touch you will be burned and, should you need to, you can create a full body blast," Henri explained. Kory nodded quickly, clearly more interested in the actual location of the suit as opposed to its new features. "It's over there," the man tacked on, nodding toward the wall where her old suit had been located.

The woman started for it, thinking nothing of it as she began to drop the articles of her costume to the floor. She grabbed her bodysuit and quickly slipped it over her body, palming for various bits of her armor until she was entirely suited up. As she placed her earpiece in her ear, Koriand'r studied herself in the mirror. Wearing armor again should have been foreign; it had been a year, so much had changed... even the armor she wore was different (though it fit her like a second skin). Still, she felt at home in the suit and, as she momentarily lost herself in the mirror, Koriand'r knew that she was about to be exactly where she belonged.

"Dick was last spotted in the Narrows this afternoon, but we haven't had any word of him since. There are a number of high profile criminals that have escaped Arkham since the blackout, I believe Jason is dealing with them first," Henri explained as Kory re-approached him. Her stomach dropped a bit at the mention of no one knowing where Dick was, but she didn't allow herself to think too much of it. Instead, she nodded once and headed toward the garage. Within moments, she was out of the Complex and speeding down the street toward the Narrows. She could already feel the plates of firestars in her hands heating with her anxiety, but the slight melting of her steering wheel was something she chose to ignore.

By the time she arrived at the coordinates Henri sent her, the battle was already going full force and, by the looks of it, things were not going in Jason's favor. Kory's car was barely stopped as she swung out of it. The Red Hood, however, was much too busy to notice her presence. Starfire watched as Killer Croc and Man-Bat closed in on her fellow outlaw. Without a second thought, Starfire raised her arm and allowed the familiar warmth flowing through her palm to force a bright pink blast shooting from her hand. It slammed into Grundy, causing him to fly backwards into a wall behind her. A Red Helmet whipped around to see her, and Jason's voice sounded in her ears.