#volucerrubidus

i'm too tired to find the meme @volucerrubidus

Impulsive? Yes. Worth it? Also yes. Or at least it was until Tim started forming a snowball to retaliate and she almost slipped on her ass while running from it. Cassie ducked behind the nearest stone bench, heart racing, cheeks flushed from cold and something warmer. Packing snow into another ball, grinning despite herself.

Accepting || Bite Bite Bite!!! @volucerrubidus

"Is that a threat or a promise?" Thad says smugly as he grabs Tim by the chin. Every bit of him radiated a condescending energy.

It was as they say: Fuck around and find out.

Tim had even warned him, but Thad had found out indeed as he held his hand, now sporting clear bite marks, far, far, far away from Tim and his teeth.

The fun answer is, depending on when it is in his life, both and neither.

James Howlett was a sickly kid. He couldn't do most physical things, and some days, couldn't even get out of bed. No running, no swimming, nothing. So he couldn't sprint and had no endurance.

Then his powers kicked in.

With his powers, Logan can sprint five miles in under a minute. With his powers, it took over a week of constantly fighting all of the X-Men to make a possessed Logan get worn out enough they could put him down. He is insanely fast, insanely strong, and in most situations, he just doesn't get tired.

I think, with his adamantium, his endurance is SLIGHTLY better than his speed, but not by much; and without it, he's SLIGHTLY better at sprinting - but yeah, by and large, it really doesn't make a difference to Logan.

Send X for Q or E to take a bullet for you // Still Accepting @volucerrubidus my love. i'm so sorry but not really

I thought I told you this was a bad idea. If it wasn’t so unnervingly silent, it would be a seething whisper, but she can’t bear to break the delicate quiet. Even to catch your attention. Diedre had a high tolerance for risk and straight recklessness, but even this exceeded that. And she just had this nagging feeling that you weren’t going to let it go. How many times had she told people herself to just drop it? For their own sake. And since when did heroes in this city ever listen to that? 

Take it from someone who’s tried almost every flavor under the sun; sometimes good righteousness is the worst kind of drug. Addictive, dangerous, and deadly. With such a need that you won’t listen to anyone who tries to tell you it’s folly. You would think the city’s masks knew that by now.  Ironically, she left her own domino back home. Just her usual black leather jacket and boots. Not enough time to even grab her signature GCPD cap. It’s not armor but it’s close enough. Not that the green domino was ever her mask to begin with. You figured that out awhile ago, didn’t you? 

There’s too many bad vibes. Something you can never quite describe despite how LOUD it feels. Like a shudder just sitting on the edge of racking your body, but never crossing the line. It’s too quiet, this city is NEVER quiet. It NEVER stops. Gut screaming GET OUT, but she won’t just yet. Not alone. And she spots you as soon as she spots him. 

Maybe she was always too reckless too. Hypocritical habits. To worried about everyone else, never enough about herself. Maybe that's what they have in common. And stubbornness. Too stubborn to leave alone. 

And you’re not alone. But maybe not in the way you think. Too focused on some clue to feel the third interloper here.  So much happened so fast that she’s not quite sure if she moved first at the sight of glinting metal, or if he spotted her and moved to take the shot hurriedly anyway. She thinks she screams NO, and it takes away the attention. And the sights. 

It doesn’t matter, it’s not silent anymore. Fights never are. And after all, wasn’t being muscle always the job? Old habits die hard and all that. Or maybe she just didn’t want to admit that sometimes this blonde could be heroic too. Because it would mean admitting that maybe you weren’t ever really so different from her after all. 

She’s sure she’s broken something of the stranger’s from the crack and the yelling, but the triumph doesn’t last as that BANG! rocks the building.

And her stomach. 

Never good. Diedre isn’t unfamiliar with the pain and shock that wracks your system when metal rips through it, but it never becomes a sensation you fully remember until you’re thrust back in the moment of it. You just have to breathe. It becomes the only job left. Moving down to your knees, or falling more accurately, and then leaning over to lay on your side. Just breathe. Over and over. It’s such a simple job until it isn’t. 

In a few moments, familiar hands have her moving into a lap. That’s actually better. Even if her groan suggests otherwise. Ignore that, it’s involuntary. 

“I told you it was a bad idea to come alone,” she whispered. “Stubborn ass.” She doesn’t mean it though. She always knew this was you. And it didn’t stop her from falling anyway. She reached up a bloody hand to brush away some of the more unruly hair. You really do need to get that cut.

❝ getting BIT, duh ! ❞

❝ talk about an easy question — sorry, biting other people just doesn’t do it for me ! plus, I heal fast and I’m immune to disease so no harm done, right ? ❞

With his hand on the doorknob, Dick stopped and thought about it for a moment. He doesn't want to bother Tim, but Tim's asking him to stay. Dick turns away from the door and walks over to Tim; he grabs a blanket from the couch and drapes it over the younger man. He's not a kid anymore, but that won't stop Dick from seeing him like that sometimes. Leaving so soon after a rough patrol isn't the best idea; Dick can always make time for Tim.

"I won't go until you get sick of me. What do you need from me tonight? Can I help you with anything, or do you want to hang out?" Dick asked; he needs to know what he can do to make Tim feel better.

Zsasz goes with the kick, toppling over. He hits the ground hard and springs back up, knife in his left hand, and narrowly misses Red Robin.

"You're so close to understanding," he says, dodging backwards. There's a fresh tally dripping down from his collarbone. "It's aggravating to see."

Lunge. "Open."

Tackle. "Your."