#luthortm

Batman and every Robin have had their share of head injuries. It comes with the work. Usually they bounced back pretty quickly, even if Alfred often wished they rested for longer, but this time Tim hadn’t been so lucky. When he went to bed, a pounding headache was his main problem and some nausea and dizziness, when he woke up, however, everything sounded like he was under water. Or at least that was the best way he could describe it. He had panicked.

He had been fully looked over in the Cave’s medbay first and then also taken to a specialist. Unfortunately, it seemed like his injury was permanent. It might get a little better once the concussion was healed, but he would never be able to properly hear again.

That was nearly a week ago now and according to Alfred he was moping, or doing the ‘teenage angst’ thing he had read about in some magazine or whatever. Tim said he didn’t mope. Or he tried to. Talking was weird when you couldn’t really hear your own voice. He had never realized that before. Though it was clear that he avoided everyone and since he was temporarily benched, mostly due to the head injury, he didn’t have much to do. He rested and read, tried to do some work on his laptop.

At the moment though, he laid curled up in bed with his eyes half closed, discarded headphones by his side. He’d tried to listen to music, but it wasn’t the same. He didn’t hear a knock or the door opening, but the movement of it was caught at the corner of his eyes and he directed his gaze toward his guest.

Slade Wilson seldom felt guilt anymore.  When you’ve been killing for as long as he has, guilt becomes a liability.  Guilt becomes the thing that keeps you from pulling the trigger.  Guilt becomes the faces that start to blend together in the mirror.

That’s not to say that Slade Wilson has become apathetic to guilt.  He feels it sometimes, but has learned to suppress the emotion.  It makes things easier, when the only thing you have to feel when shooting someone is recoil.

But there are certain... matters of family, in which the guilt becomes too overwhelming to ignore.  Certain matters in which... it needs to be addressed.

Grant would have been one of those things, had Slade the gift of foresight to know how the life of his eldest would have ended.  Maybe if he had been gentler with Grant, showed him something other than discipline... it’s too late for those thoughts, though.  Grant Wilson is dead, and Slade identified the corpse himself.

But Joseph?  ...Joseph was never involved in this life.  Even before Deathsroke became all Slade was... he took great pains in separating his family life and his professional life.  It was only in sparing the Jackal that everything came unraveling, and Joseph ended up paying the greatest price for it.

That’s going to be the one thing which haunts Slade.

And after everything that happened with the Titans... with Terra... and his family... there’s been a change in business plans.  Slade’s priorities have shifted... elsewhere.  And it’s Joseph who should know, more than anything.

He just needs to find Jericho, first.  Or rather... draw Joseph out to him.

        “You created him, Lex! You have a responsibility to take care of him.” Clark signed, face contorted in anger as his hands swung around swiftly and harshly. Lex Luthor, their old childhood friend and current enemy, had gone further than he ever thought he would; creating a clone using both of their DNA sets. It was insane...but there was a person out there now, their son, who they both had to care for. There was no going back. Even if Lex wanted to claim no responsibility for Conner...Clark wouldn’t just let him slip by. Clark moved closer and closer, letting his Superman side take over and no longer being the meek little Clark Kent. He was clad in his costume, ready to take on Luthor, even if just in conversation. 

Hello,

honestly, it wouldn’t work. Sign languages just don’t mesh with face covers. 

Tactile sign language is a thing, true, but its not very fast method of communication compared to usual sign languages. Afaik, there are not many deaf superheroes who sign and those who do don’t use mask. 

Closed starter for @luthortm

Dedicating herself to Batman's fight had been easy, but it required near constant training. A fact that neither surprised, nor upset Cassandra as she had spent most of her life in a similar state. This simply was done less out of a feeling of fealty to her father, and more out of willingness and a desire to make up for her past as well as help others. Down in the bat cave she had on workout clothes and had wrapped her hands up properly before going through an acrobatics routine, and then finishing it with a quick body weight workout.

With the workout done she headed towards a punching bag and started going to town on it with her customary silence besides from steady breaths and quiet huffs of exertion. Eyes flickering to one side she spotted Batman and reached out to steady the bag holding it still for a moment before turning to face him.

Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no.

A lot of things were happening at once and Zora couldn’t help but feel a terror that was threatening at all sides. Of course, it had started with an accident, falling in a way that for most people would have lead to a broken arm or something. And the way that their arm had shifted - observers would have thought surely there was something to ‘crack’ as they fell.

But Z had always been very wary of having these accidents in public- people were starting to try to get a closer look.   And that anxiousness was building up the already heightened cosmic tension that they dealt with on an everyday basis. They had already flashed white eyes towards a few people due to the stress. Tension that only seemed to intensify with the nerves that they had ... they tried to wave it off getting up - but the rip, the sight of their arm being something quite other than the injury that people expected had set off alarm.

What is..that? Why are you.. like that? What is happening?

Questions coming from all sides only sharpened the cracks and twists that they were starting to display in reaction, not to mention them no longer having the brown eyes that helped them maintain a low-key presence. A white distant gaze with another white eye on their forehead was staring back at those trying to make sense of them and yelling questions that they could not, would not respond to.

The moment some ‘authority’ tried to get close, they took off running - already at a surprising pace even with some onlookers joining in the chase. This had happened before, they still had the memories from college and to have this replay... only had them screaming internally as they moved. And a chase was starting to build because with the tension - more bursts of cosmic energy was starting to show. Their body started to elongate, yet more arms emerging, their skin shifting to highlight the lavender and other lightly colored patterns on that marked their true nature. The faster they moved, the faster Zora started to release more energy making their presence harder and harder to ignore. It was getting to be too vast to be held and their body was breaking all constraints as they tried to escape.

They moved in such fashion that their legs had become more energy and tendrils - having them practically floating through the streets - through people, past people - shocking anyone who had been brushed against. The cries get louder, and louder more forces are coming for them. A sizeable being of cosmic energy was going to be hard to capture no matter how many people bore witness to it.

But that was of no comfort to Zora right now, they had to get away.. desperately and they dove into the nearest alley dipping and diving through increasingly darker streets finally managing to get some distance from those who had been pursuing them. They didn’t dare stop until they didn’t hear voices. And only when they managed to find a decrepit, abandoned place did they bother to hide. Inside the decaying place, Zora finally managed to catch their breath now fully in their ethereal, alien, and somewhat eldritch form. They collapse to the ground somewhat shaking from the fear, the terror of it all - memories, nightmares of bad experiences being re-enacted on a larger scale. It was truly horrifying - but also..inevitable.

It was in this moment that they felt at least, comfortable in this form - a form that had been calling out, yelling out beneath their ‘disguise’ for some time now, only released here and there. As they made sense of it all, they had to recognize - this incident.. had been long in the making.

Footsteps, movements on the floorboards make it clear that Zora perhaps was not alone in this decaying place. They didn’t dare try to move instead - they direct their head towards whatever was tentatively getting closer to them.

It had been a few weeks since he’d escaped from CADMUS. Since he had found out about all their lies, which included that both his genetic donors were alive. Superman could’ve been easy to find, but the boy didn’t want to disturb him and he also knew he was mostly human, meaning mostly ‘Robin’. He had always thought there was only one Robin, but it turned out to be wrong. Not knowing what else to do, he had decided to get to Gotham and find Batman, asking for his help. Unfortunately that wasn’t easy either.

He’d been in Gotham for nearly a week now. The city was harsh and he’d done his best to get by. So far, he was always one step behind Batman and he was beginning to wonder if he would ever be able to catch up with him. Having always liked heights, he had chosen one of the area’s highest buildings and sat on its roof, just enjoying looking at the world below him. Having lived as sheltered as he had, he didn’t realize how unusual it was for an eleven year old to sit on the top of a high building, nor how dangerous it could be for an average child to do so. He hadn’t meant to catch anyone’s attention, but he had. Fortunately for him, even if he didn’t know it yet, it was the person he wanted to find the most.