#sallysunshine

[ she hated it, acting like a child over something so stupid- especially when Dick had his own troubles to worry about. most teens her age would have killed to get that sort of reaction from their parents but hers? they were fine. just one bad grade out of all the thousands of good grades wasn’t a big deal. ‘just do better next time’ ‘it’s no big deal sarah.’ no other questioning about the subject. just a simple write off and she could leave ]

[ do whatever she pleased without any worry from them. none at all ]

      [ none whatsoever ]

            [ she whined, hating that too, as she dug her fingers into his shirt and cried ]

"Why don’t they care? Why don’t they care what I do?”

{ he didn't know what it was like to have parents freak out over grades. his parents didn't care not because he did badly--not because they thought it was okay if he did--but because it didn't matter to them; because he would be staying and performing with the circus when he grew older. dick didn't necessarily need to know what they taught him during their homeschooling sessions... }

     { but he could understand why sally was upset. }

"Sally, of course they care-- You're their daughter, and they love you."

    { he holds her tighter, nuzzling into her hair as she cries into his hoodie. his eyes close, and all he can think about at the moment is how he hates to see her so upset; how he doesn't know how to reassure her that her parents care for her more than she'd ever know... }

            { he feels like crying along with her. }

        { the feeling in his stomach mimics the one he now gets on the trapeze-- he's afraid; he's hurt. }

        [ softly giggling, she looking him over ]

               ”You know you clean up pretty nice yourself, handsome.”

"I can’t tell you how happy I am you’re in town for prom. You didn’t do that on purpose, did you?”

{ his hair isn't quite slicked back as it is combed for once, a few loose straggles flying here and there. dressed in a black suit and dark blue tie--to match her dress, of course--he looks very much the gentleman instead of the rag-tag circus brat he thinks himself to be. }

    { he lifts her chin with a finger, his thumb nearly touching her red lips. there's a little smile on his face; she knows him far too well. }

"Aw, well, thank you, Sally--"

He'd get to be so different from this one, since he spent so much time locked up by ARGUS. Also he has his Phantasm identity, and I can get to play with that.

Freckles: If you could, what would you change about your body?

"My shoulders are a little…wide. I mean, it’s not something I’d kill to change or anything. But other than that, I’m pretty happy with the physical shape I’m in.”

Brain: What is something you want to master before you die?

“Ah….I’d say physics, but the gibber-gabbers in the noggin have that all taken care of.”

Bruises: Are you easily hurt?

[ text ] perfect, why don’t we meet up?

what is she even in? Like, how many times does she appear?