{ meme | nothinginthefire }

O, Dream

     She couldn’t remember seeing such a nice clear sky in Gotham before; the brightest hues of blue she had ever seen, the nicest, warmest sun rays she could remember ever feeling on her face. She took off her glasses and glanced at the field before her. Barbara was painting the landscape and looked back at her only for a fleeting second —that smile, those eyes—

     "Lemonade, Detective?" Alfred Pennyworth asked, a jar in his right hand, a cup in the other.

     "Yes, please."

     "You know," he said as he poured the drink. "You shouldn’t  be sleeping."

X, Nightmare

     ”Do you know where he is?” Alfred asked, but his voice wasn’t right; it was screechy, like a bird call.

     ”Está en el cuarto,” Renée replied. “Tiene fiebre.”

     A shadow fluttered by, feathers fell on the hardwood floors. Renée picked one and it started dripping black ink, which bubble as it came in contact with her skin. The liquid burned her hand like acid and, with a yelp, she dropped the feather.