Rodent, he thinks to himself. Even amidst a civil conversation, Oswald's first instinct is to belittle and dismiss. Cut them before they cut you. However, he ignores the impulse and bites his tongue. Petty insults are not gentlemanly.

@ratwhsprs sent:

"i do this one thing, and then you let me go?"

"I DON'T WANT TO GET INVOLVED" PROMPTS

    🦇—-;; Bruce's head tilts as he considers Otis's question, white lenses narrowing a little. The answer he wants to say is no, but given that this whole situation came about because of a slightly bigger fish, Bruce needs to focus on capturing them first, though the Bat wasn't really one to let people off lightly, not without a good reason. Existing circumstances certainly counted.

His hand flexes at his side, easing the tension in his body for a brief few moments before he gives a little huff and finally answers after a few seconds. "If you keep your word, and do what I asked. I'll consider it." He lifts his chin slightly for a moment, before he pulls the cape further around his shoulders.

refusing care prompts

No shift in posture is seen when presented with such a comeback, discarded like the rest of the refuge that lurked in the sewage water, pooling around his feet. It had been a longshot, asked of the only face-- or lack thereof -- that he had laid eyes upon down here. Someone that he spotted trekking through effluent up to their knees, seemingly without a word or complaint to offer.

"Have it your way, then." Recognising the futility of his attempts, he chose not to press the issue, which had seen him stress the importance of taking cover, for a force that dwarfed his own considerable size had been turned loose upon these tunnels. Immediately after speaking, he showed signs of veering off in a random direction, ready to accept getting lost if needed. One way or another, he had an anomaly to locate and apprehend, a fugitive that was distinguishable by their tattered lab coat and scaly green hide.

And yet, as he set off, Miguel wouldn't get more than a few steps away before he turns his head to gaze at the other. Not remotely enthused by the thought of letting them fend for themselves, or feeling desperate enough to ask if they had spotted any unusual signs of trouble, festering down in these depths.

@ratwhsprs

"Stop, stop," Mary says, feels a sharp rush of shame to hear herself almost bleating it at Otis's back in the dim light, her voice harsh in her throat. Stop-stop-stop. She stops, pressing her back against the brickwork.

They had been running for what felt like too long. Skidding down into the warehouse basement and then into the sewers, leaving behind the hail of bullets and the shouting and Mary with her face tucked into the crook of her arm and trying not to breathe too much, trying to keep up, shivering now in the oil-slick underground.

ㅤㅤ" —hold up. "ㅤbig, dramatic arm gestures are what greet otis as he clambers up onto the rooftop, byan visibly recalibrating as they process what they've just witnessed.ㅤ" no way. there's no way. you jus' learned a couple fancy moves, that's all, right? there ain't no way you know how t' do parkour, i refuse t' believe it! "

⋆:°* ♡ @ratwhsprs ⋆·˚ ༘ * no pressure one-liner call.

"I - haven't seen Grundy in a while."

Harvey suddenly seems a little bashful - which looks strange on his face now, but wouldn't have, a long time ago.

"--- I hesitate to outright call the man a friend, and I guess there's no real reason to feel concern over a guy that can't actually, permanently, die - but it's good to know the big ol' dead guy is still stomping around down there."

They're friends on the same level that a frog living in a spider hole is friends with the spider, but friends nonetheless.