#magicofrobin

SOMEWHERE‎‎ ‎ IN‎‎ ‎ GOTHAM‎‎ ‎ THAT‎‎ ‎ NIGHT…NONDESCRIPT‎‎ ‎ GARAGE,‎‎ ‎ CRIME‎‎ ‎ ALLEY.

9:46‎‎ ‎ P.M.‎‎

while‎‎ ‎ jay-lad‎‎ ‎ works‎‎ ‎ on‎‎ ‎ her‎‎ ‎ bike,‎‎ ‎ taking‎‎ ‎ a‎‎ ‎ look‎‎ ‎ at‎‎ ‎ what’s‎‎ ‎ tripping‎‎ ‎ up‎‎ ‎ her‎‎ ‎ mode‎‎ ‎ of‎‎ ‎ transportation‎‎ ‎ exactly,‎‎ ‎ helena‎‎ ‎ lets‎‎ ‎ him‎‎ ‎ do‎‎ ‎ his‎‎ ‎ thing‎‎ ‎ in‎‎ ‎ peace‎‎ ‎ and‎‎ ‎ takes‎‎ ‎ the‎‎ ‎ moment‎‎ ‎ to‎‎ ‎ browse‎‎ ‎ her‎‎ ‎ phone‎‎ ‎ and‎‎ ‎ catch‎‎ ‎ up‎‎ ‎ on‎‎ ‎ her‎‎ ‎ notifications.‎‎ ‎ not‎‎ ‎ her‎‎ ‎ favourite‎‎ ‎ thing‎‎ ‎ in‎‎ ‎ the‎‎ ‎ world,‎‎ ‎ especially‎‎ ‎ if‎‎ ‎ it’s‎‎ ‎ texting,‎‎ ‎ but‎‎ ‎ helena‎‎ ‎ prioritises‎‎ ‎ responsibility‎‎ ‎ over‎‎ ‎ her‎‎ ‎ personal‎‎ ‎ comfort,‎‎ ‎ as‎‎ ‎ usual.

❝ i never get tired . ❞

or

❝ how many people ? ❞

nd they can be either way + whichever one strikes your fancy (& it can be red hood jay or jaybin idc im in the mood for either)! i just couldnt decide between the two so dealer's choice :)

answ/ered !

╭────── · · ♰ · · ──────╮

at RED HOOD’S whisper, huntress instantaneously faced him; she didn't only turn around, she moved entirely and redirected herself to the better side of his line of sight, while still allowing herself to keep an eye on what was happening inside.

her gloved hands spoke, her mouth whispered;

“seven,” she tapped the side of her hand against her palm. “there's seven of them in total.”

“five adults,” fingers splayed, then she touched the thumb of the opposite hand.

“one teen,” index finger bent and tapped against the side of her head, before she formed the number ‘6’ with her hand and twisted it twice to add, “sixteen.”

a beat, then —

“one small child,” palm flat, lowering as if measuring height. “about six years.”

while her words were rapid like bulletfire, helena made a deliberate effort to pronounce each syllable clearly whenever she talked to him. she had even pulled her mask upwards a little just in case; she knew jason todd would never ask for help even at the worst of worst, but as a teacher, she had come to learn stop, understand, pick up the signs, improvise, adapt, and accommodate.

“only three of them are the bastards we’re hunting down, okay? the rest are victims,” she quickly glanced inside, then she turned to him, forming ‘K’s with her hands and placing one of them atop the other, “be careful. the father looks just like them. same build, same coat, same colours. but there is one way to tell him apart—”

she suggested the shape of a moustache above her upper lip.

“—moustache. he has a moustache, chevron style. the captors do not have any facial hair. okay?”

she herself wasn’t okay; ever since they had taken up this case, the tension never left her body, her jaw never UNCLENCHED. in the back of her mind, she kept on feeling like she was eight and scared again, being shoved into a dark closet, watching helplessly as blood splattered, guns went off, blood splattered, bullets were shot, blood splattered, she lost herself and her family all at once. she wasn't okay.

but this time, she wasn't eight, she wasn't helpless, and most importantly, she wasn't alone.

and that made all the DIFFERENCE.

she lifted her head to meet jason’s gaze, steady despite the drumming in her heart and her head and her pulse. her hands moved again in sharp, successive motions.

╭────── · · ♰ · · ──────╮

“sure, you don’t, ROBIN,” she answered as she gave the younger vigilante a sideway glance, her lips curling into an easy smile. “which is totally unrelated to how i always carry you back to the BAT-CAR whenever it's two hours past your bedtime, right?”

today, it wasn't that late, and the night was slow thus far. as the unexpected duo perched on a rooftop, huntress nursed a thermoflask containing extremely strong, and unfortunately, extremely bitter coffee. she was used to it, just a few months ago she was chugging this sludge to pass college, but there was no way she was letting the middle-schooler touch even that level of caffeine — on a SCHOOL-NIGHT, on top of that, too!