hello vonnie
ojovivo
bliss lane
$LAYYYTER
if i look back, i am lost
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
RMH
Interview Vampire Daily
Origami Around
🩵 avery cochrane 🩵
Monterey Bay Aquarium
shark vs the universe
🪼
d e v o n
Keni
No title available
TMBGareOK. The Official They Might Be Giants tumblr
tannertan36
almost home
Game Changer & Make Some Noise
seen from Türkiye
seen from Brazil
seen from Mexico
seen from Malaysia
seen from Brazil
seen from Brazil
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Iraq
seen from Brazil
seen from Canada
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Germany
seen from Germany
seen from Latvia
seen from United States
seen from Libya
seen from United States
seen from Ukraine
seen from Indonesia
@dc-loonyfanverse
Hello!
RULES:
Be civil.
There will be dark themes (it's Gotham, so…) but I try my best to tag them properly. Please inform me if I forgot to tag something.
You can rp with my characters, but I never did this before, just so you know.
Info about OCs and lore down below.
❤️ for Jean and 🧊 for Amber
❤️ - Jean's best memory is probably when he settled into his restaurant and realized that everything had settled down and he could move on with his life—not back to mercenary work as his main profession and not go poor and hungry. At first, of course, he was nervous and doubted his choice. The team he assembled, however, worked seamlessly, and they understood each other's dark sides. When Jean realized everything was going well, it was as if he woke up and realized he belonged in this kind of life. He had other good memories too, but this is the important one because he became who he is in all the other AUs, his main role.
🧊 - It is! Almost! I think her hairstyle is a little different, but only slightly. I couldn't figure out how to draw it, lol.
Ask Game for someone’s OC(s)
✨- How did you come up with the OC’s name?
🌼 - How old are they? (Or approximate age range)
🌺- Do they have any love interest(s)?
🍕 - What is their favorite food?
💼 - What do they do for a living?
🎹 - Do they have any hobbies?
🎯 -What do they do best?
🥊 -What do they love to do? What do they hate to do?
❤️ - What is one of your OC’s best memories?
✂️ - What is one of your OC’s worst memories?
🧊 - Is their current design the first one?
🍀 - What originally inspired the OC?
🌂 - What genre do they belong in?
💚 - What is your OC’s gender identity and sexuality?
🙌 - How many sibling does your OC have?
🍎 - What is the OC’s relationship w/their parents like?
🧠 - What do you like most about the OC?
✏️ - How often do you draw/write about the OC?
💎 - Do you ever see yourself killing off the OC?
💀 - Does your OC have any phobias?
🍩 -Who is your OC’s arch-nemesis or rival?
🎓 - How long have you had the OC?
🍥 - What age were you when you created the OC?
After a long night of patrol, Obsession had gone to visit Zavier's grave. She stood there for a while, thinking about the past. Thinking about what might have been different if he had lived.
The late night- or maybe early morning- air was cool and foggy. It wouldn't be long before the sun began to send its first feeble rays.
She stood in silent contemplation, until a sudden noise behind her made her turn.
@obsession-withthenight
"Right in the cemetery? Nothing sacred," Jean grumbled, and though his voice sounded irritated, his back tensed. The robber was aiming his pistol at him with a trembling hand, and he knew exactly what would happen if he didn't get out of this situation—because it was hard to miss at that distance, even with a poor aim.
She saw the situation and she knew she had to act fast. She couldn't get over there fast enough. If it was any weapon other than a gun... it was risky, but it was the best thought she had in the few seconds that she had left.
"DUCK!"
She yelled, and hurled a batarang. It may be hard to miss at that close range, but it was also hard to shoot with a batarang stuck in your wrist. In the same instant, she was running towards the pair, and readying her other weapons.
"Shit!" Jean wasn't sure what reacted first—his brain or his body—but he obediently fell like a sack of potatoes, ignoring the pain of his landing. He watched, wide-eyed, as the bandit's arm was pierced by a batarang, and he jerked his arm back with a scream, involuntarily firing it into the ground.
The next second, she had fired her taser, and the two small darts had hit the bandit, and sent a surge of energy coursing through his body.
Jean watched very carefully, either from shock or from professional deformation. When the bandit was completely knocked out, he allowed himself to stand up and dust himself off. "I didn't expect to meet a hero in a cemetery," he muttered grumpily. "I mean, thanks."
"I didn't expect to stop a mugging in a cemetery, but you're welcome."
She knelt down to fasten handcuffs around the wrists of the unconscious man and confiscate his gun.
"Lucky me," Jean muttered, hurrying to pick up the crumpled bouquet of flowers and his bag. "Some of the guys decided that since the cemetery is usually empty, they'd get something from the lonely visitors."
"It's sick." She said disgusted.
"Taking advantage of grief like that."
Not even Belladonna would stoop to fighting her in such a place.
"Yeah, I guess," Jean said indifferently, examining the flowers critically, but then he thought about something. "Are you guys actually patrol cemeteries? This is the first time I've heard of anyone from the Bat-team running around among the dead."
"... I wasn't exactly here on official patrol. Just here by coincidence."
Not that she really even had an official Bat-authorized patrol, but the schedule she usually kept, and that Seagull and Nightwing were aware of, had ended about half an hour ago.
"Unofficial? Makes sense," Jean said, looking her over as if he could tell just by looking what was going on. "I get it, I shouldn't be here either."
"Yeah..."
She sighed. She had just wanted to come here and then go home so she could get some sleep before it was time to go to her actual job. Now, she had more work to do.
"Guess I better take this guy in."
"Won't call the police?" Frankly, he didn't know how heroes worked. Gotham was big enough for everyone, and even though the group of heroes grew over time, he almost never saw them outside of TV screen.
"I'll just drop him off myself, I'm headed that way anyway."
She wishes she had gotten more time to stay at Zavier's grave, and she glances back in its direction. Then, the man on the ground begins to stir. She pulls him to his feet.
"Up you get. You're coming with me, and no arguing unless you want another batarang in you."
She looks to Jean.
"You take care and stay safe out there, alright?"
"Okay. I owe you this much," Jean tried to joke, but didn't move until she was out of sight. Then he glanced where she was looking. Then he glanced at the road beneath him and the tracks.
He was good at this – following tracks. Having assessed her boots beforehand, he traced their path. And it seemed he'd found where she'd come from.
Zavier Hernandez.
He'd only lived for twenty-one years. No wonder.
How many of those who died of old age are sleeping here?..
Jean carefully removed one flower from his disheveled bouquet. He placed it on the grave silently – he had nothing to say to the stranger, but he could at least show gratitude to the girl who'd saved him - saved either his life or from a lot of trouble that day.
He was sure Danny and his late family wouldn't mind. After all, everyone here was from the same town. And they all died young.
When the hero came back later, she wondered at the small flower on the grave. She knew there were others who came to visit Zavier, but they tended to leave bouquets. Their patterns had gotten familiar over the years, but this single flower didn't match.
Then, she recalled the man she had helped in the graveyard. He had a bouqet. Could it have been him? But how would he have known who she had been visiting?
It was a mystery, but one that didn't really matter. She was just grateful to whoever had taken the time to honor her friend's grave. There was a small, sad but peaceful smile on her face as she left the graveyard.
After a long night of patrol, Obsession had gone to visit Zavier's grave. She stood there for a while, thinking about the past. Thinking about what might have been different if he had lived.
The late night- or maybe early morning- air was cool and foggy. It wouldn't be long before the sun began to send its first feeble rays.
She stood in silent contemplation, until a sudden noise behind her made her turn.
@obsession-withthenight
"Right in the cemetery? Nothing sacred," Jean grumbled, and though his voice sounded irritated, his back tensed. The robber was aiming his pistol at him with a trembling hand, and he knew exactly what would happen if he didn't get out of this situation—because it was hard to miss at that distance, even with a poor aim.
She saw the situation and she knew she had to act fast. She couldn't get over there fast enough. If it was any weapon other than a gun... it was risky, but it was the best thought she had in the few seconds that she had left.
"DUCK!"
She yelled, and hurled a batarang. It may be hard to miss at that close range, but it was also hard to shoot with a batarang stuck in your wrist. In the same instant, she was running towards the pair, and readying her other weapons.
"Shit!" Jean wasn't sure what reacted first—his brain or his body—but he obediently fell like a sack of potatoes, ignoring the pain of his landing. He watched, wide-eyed, as the bandit's arm was pierced by a batarang, and he jerked his arm back with a scream, involuntarily firing it into the ground.
The next second, she had fired her taser, and the two small darts had hit the bandit, and sent a surge of energy coursing through his body.
Jean watched very carefully, either from shock or from professional deformation. When the bandit was completely knocked out, he allowed himself to stand up and dust himself off. "I didn't expect to meet a hero in a cemetery," he muttered grumpily. "I mean, thanks."
"I didn't expect to stop a mugging in a cemetery, but you're welcome."
She knelt down to fasten handcuffs around the wrists of the unconscious man and confiscate his gun.
"Lucky me," Jean muttered, hurrying to pick up the crumpled bouquet of flowers and his bag. "Some of the guys decided that since the cemetery is usually empty, they'd get something from the lonely visitors."
"It's sick." She said disgusted.
"Taking advantage of grief like that."
Not even Belladonna would stoop to fighting her in such a place.
"Yeah, I guess," Jean said indifferently, examining the flowers critically, but then he thought about something. "Are you guys actually patrol cemeteries? This is the first time I've heard of anyone from the Bat-team running around among the dead."
"... I wasn't exactly here on official patrol. Just here by coincidence."
Not that she really even had an official Bat-authorized patrol, but the schedule she usually kept, and that Seagull and Nightwing were aware of, had ended about half an hour ago.
"Unofficial? Makes sense," Jean said, looking her over as if he could tell just by looking what was going on. "I get it, I shouldn't be here either."
"Yeah..."
She sighed. She had just wanted to come here and then go home so she could get some sleep before it was time to go to her actual job. Now, she had more work to do.
"Guess I better take this guy in."
"Won't call the police?" Frankly, he didn't know how heroes worked. Gotham was big enough for everyone, and even though the group of heroes grew over time, he almost never saw them outside of TV screen.
"I'll just drop him off myself, I'm headed that way anyway."
She wishes she had gotten more time to stay at Zavier's grave, and she glances back in its direction. Then, the man on the ground begins to stir. She pulls him to his feet.
"Up you get. You're coming with me, and no arguing unless you want another batarang in you."
She looks to Jean.
"You take care and stay safe out there, alright?"
"Okay. I owe you this much," Jean tried to joke, but didn't move until she was out of sight. Then he glanced where she was looking. Then he glanced at the road beneath him and the tracks.
He was good at this – following tracks. Having assessed her boots beforehand, he traced their path. And it seemed he'd found where she'd come from.
Zavier Hernandez.
He'd only lived for twenty-one years. No wonder.
How many of those who died of old age are sleeping here?..
Jean carefully removed one flower from his disheveled bouquet. He placed it on the grave silently – he had nothing to say to the stranger, but he could at least show gratitude to the girl who'd saved him - saved either his life or from a lot of trouble that day.
He was sure Danny and his late family wouldn't mind. After all, everyone here was from the same town. And they all died young.
Happy birthday to me I guess
Hopefully it will be an easy day on patrol
Stay safe, I guess. Another year alive on deadly job - worth noting, at least.
- Jean
Making random collages, but I’m a noob x)
Choose your fighter!
Imagine: The Other Woman
Harley Quinn x fem!Reader
Warnings: slight x Joker, rivalry.
Beta: @katmor4lockwood-co
Читать дальше
Imagine: A Date
Have some romantic classic Joker, y'all! He’s here to make you smile. Hopefully, he brightens up your day! 😈
Beta (Thank you SO MUCH): @katmor4lockwood-co
Читать дальше
After a long night of patrol, Obsession had gone to visit Zavier's grave. She stood there for a while, thinking about the past. Thinking about what might have been different if he had lived.
The late night- or maybe early morning- air was cool and foggy. It wouldn't be long before the sun began to send its first feeble rays.
She stood in silent contemplation, until a sudden noise behind her made her turn.
@obsession-withthenight
"Right in the cemetery? Nothing sacred," Jean grumbled, and though his voice sounded irritated, his back tensed. The robber was aiming his pistol at him with a trembling hand, and he knew exactly what would happen if he didn't get out of this situation—because it was hard to miss at that distance, even with a poor aim.
She saw the situation and she knew she had to act fast. She couldn't get over there fast enough. If it was any weapon other than a gun... it was risky, but it was the best thought she had in the few seconds that she had left.
"DUCK!"
She yelled, and hurled a batarang. It may be hard to miss at that close range, but it was also hard to shoot with a batarang stuck in your wrist. In the same instant, she was running towards the pair, and readying her other weapons.
"Shit!" Jean wasn't sure what reacted first—his brain or his body—but he obediently fell like a sack of potatoes, ignoring the pain of his landing. He watched, wide-eyed, as the bandit's arm was pierced by a batarang, and he jerked his arm back with a scream, involuntarily firing it into the ground.
The next second, she had fired her taser, and the two small darts had hit the bandit, and sent a surge of energy coursing through his body.
Jean watched very carefully, either from shock or from professional deformation. When the bandit was completely knocked out, he allowed himself to stand up and dust himself off. "I didn't expect to meet a hero in a cemetery," he muttered grumpily. "I mean, thanks."
"I didn't expect to stop a mugging in a cemetery, but you're welcome."
She knelt down to fasten handcuffs around the wrists of the unconscious man and confiscate his gun.
"Lucky me," Jean muttered, hurrying to pick up the crumpled bouquet of flowers and his bag. "Some of the guys decided that since the cemetery is usually empty, they'd get something from the lonely visitors."
"It's sick." She said disgusted.
"Taking advantage of grief like that."
Not even Belladonna would stoop to fighting her in such a place.
"Yeah, I guess," Jean said indifferently, examining the flowers critically, but then he thought about something. "Are you guys actually patrol cemeteries? This is the first time I've heard of anyone from the Bat-team running around among the dead."
"... I wasn't exactly here on official patrol. Just here by coincidence."
Not that she really even had an official Bat-authorized patrol, but the schedule she usually kept, and that Seagull and Nightwing were aware of, had ended about half an hour ago.
"Unofficial? Makes sense," Jean said, looking her over as if he could tell just by looking what was going on. "I get it, I shouldn't be here either."
"Yeah..."
She sighed. She had just wanted to come here and then go home so she could get some sleep before it was time to go to her actual job. Now, she had more work to do.
"Guess I better take this guy in."
"Won't call the police?" Frankly, he didn't know how heroes worked. Gotham was big enough for everyone, and even though the group of heroes grew over time, he almost never saw them outside of TV screen.
The Borderline Intrusive Horny OC Asks
💘 First love?
❤ First sexual experience?
💖 Do they consider themselves attractive?
💔 Have they ever had their heart broken? Have they ever broken a heart?
💗 A great sexual experience?
🖤 A bad sexual experience?
💕 Experiences with multiple partners?
💝 What is the dearest gift they have received?
💌 Do they send naughty letters? What’s in them?
👜 What type of clothing is especially attractive to them?
👄 Kiss & tell about X?
💐 Thoughts on love?
🌶 Thoughts on sex?
💍 Thoughts on marriage?
🌸 How do they feel about parenthood?
🎀 Let’s talk about commitment.
🍑 Which companion has the best butt?
🐙 Are they kinky?
🍨 Food play?
🎭 Role-play?
🔮 Sex magic?
🍒 Are they good at oral sex? Do they enjoy it?
🍷 Any sexual experiences, good or bad, involving alcohol?
After a long night of patrol, Obsession had gone to visit Zavier's grave. She stood there for a while, thinking about the past. Thinking about what might have been different if he had lived.
The late night- or maybe early morning- air was cool and foggy. It wouldn't be long before the sun began to send its first feeble rays.
She stood in silent contemplation, until a sudden noise behind her made her turn.
@obsession-withthenight
"Right in the cemetery? Nothing sacred," Jean grumbled, and though his voice sounded irritated, his back tensed. The robber was aiming his pistol at him with a trembling hand, and he knew exactly what would happen if he didn't get out of this situation—because it was hard to miss at that distance, even with a poor aim.
She saw the situation and she knew she had to act fast. She couldn't get over there fast enough. If it was any weapon other than a gun... it was risky, but it was the best thought she had in the few seconds that she had left.
"DUCK!"
She yelled, and hurled a batarang. It may be hard to miss at that close range, but it was also hard to shoot with a batarang stuck in your wrist. In the same instant, she was running towards the pair, and readying her other weapons.
"Shit!" Jean wasn't sure what reacted first—his brain or his body—but he obediently fell like a sack of potatoes, ignoring the pain of his landing. He watched, wide-eyed, as the bandit's arm was pierced by a batarang, and he jerked his arm back with a scream, involuntarily firing it into the ground.
The next second, she had fired her taser, and the two small darts had hit the bandit, and sent a surge of energy coursing through his body.
Jean watched very carefully, either from shock or from professional deformation. When the bandit was completely knocked out, he allowed himself to stand up and dust himself off. "I didn't expect to meet a hero in a cemetery," he muttered grumpily. "I mean, thanks."
"I didn't expect to stop a mugging in a cemetery, but you're welcome."
She knelt down to fasten handcuffs around the wrists of the unconscious man and confiscate his gun.
"Lucky me," Jean muttered, hurrying to pick up the crumpled bouquet of flowers and his bag. "Some of the guys decided that since the cemetery is usually empty, they'd get something from the lonely visitors."
"It's sick." She said disgusted.
"Taking advantage of grief like that."
Not even Belladonna would stoop to fighting her in such a place.
"Yeah, I guess," Jean said indifferently, examining the flowers critically, but then he thought about something. "Are you guys actually patrol cemeteries? This is the first time I've heard of anyone from the Bat-team running around among the dead."
"... I wasn't exactly here on official patrol. Just here by coincidence."
Not that she really even had an official Bat-authorized patrol, but the schedule she usually kept, and that Seagull and Nightwing were aware of, had ended about half an hour ago.
"Unofficial? Makes sense," Jean said, looking her over as if he could tell just by looking what was going on. "I get it, I shouldn't be here either."
After a long night of patrol, Obsession had gone to visit Zavier's grave. She stood there for a while, thinking about the past. Thinking about what might have been different if he had lived.
The late night- or maybe early morning- air was cool and foggy. It wouldn't be long before the sun began to send its first feeble rays.
She stood in silent contemplation, until a sudden noise behind her made her turn.
@obsession-withthenight
"Right in the cemetery? Nothing sacred," Jean grumbled, and though his voice sounded irritated, his back tensed. The robber was aiming his pistol at him with a trembling hand, and he knew exactly what would happen if he didn't get out of this situation—because it was hard to miss at that distance, even with a poor aim.
She saw the situation and she knew she had to act fast. She couldn't get over there fast enough. If it was any weapon other than a gun... it was risky, but it was the best thought she had in the few seconds that she had left.
"DUCK!"
She yelled, and hurled a batarang. It may be hard to miss at that close range, but it was also hard to shoot with a batarang stuck in your wrist. In the same instant, she was running towards the pair, and readying her other weapons.
"Shit!" Jean wasn't sure what reacted first—his brain or his body—but he obediently fell like a sack of potatoes, ignoring the pain of his landing. He watched, wide-eyed, as the bandit's arm was pierced by a batarang, and he jerked his arm back with a scream, involuntarily firing it into the ground.
The next second, she had fired her taser, and the two small darts had hit the bandit, and sent a surge of energy coursing through his body.
Jean watched very carefully, either from shock or from professional deformation. When the bandit was completely knocked out, he allowed himself to stand up and dust himself off. "I didn't expect to meet a hero in a cemetery," he muttered grumpily. "I mean, thanks."
"I didn't expect to stop a mugging in a cemetery, but you're welcome."
She knelt down to fasten handcuffs around the wrists of the unconscious man and confiscate his gun.
"Lucky me," Jean muttered, hurrying to pick up the crumpled bouquet of flowers and his bag. "Some of the guys decided that since the cemetery is usually empty, they'd get something from the lonely visitors."
"It's sick." She said disgusted.
"Taking advantage of grief like that."
Not even Belladonna would stoop to fighting her in such a place.
"Yeah, I guess," Jean said indifferently, examining the flowers critically, but then he thought about something. "Are you guys actually patrol cemeteries? This is the first time I've heard of anyone from the Bat-team running around among the dead."
After a long night of patrol, Obsession had gone to visit Zavier's grave. She stood there for a while, thinking about the past. Thinking about what might have been different if he had lived.
The late night- or maybe early morning- air was cool and foggy. It wouldn't be long before the sun began to send its first feeble rays.
She stood in silent contemplation, until a sudden noise behind her made her turn.
@obsession-withthenight
"Right in the cemetery? Nothing sacred," Jean grumbled, and though his voice sounded irritated, his back tensed. The robber was aiming his pistol at him with a trembling hand, and he knew exactly what would happen if he didn't get out of this situation—because it was hard to miss at that distance, even with a poor aim.
She saw the situation and she knew she had to act fast. She couldn't get over there fast enough. If it was any weapon other than a gun... it was risky, but it was the best thought she had in the few seconds that she had left.
"DUCK!"
She yelled, and hurled a batarang. It may be hard to miss at that close range, but it was also hard to shoot with a batarang stuck in your wrist. In the same instant, she was running towards the pair, and readying her other weapons.
"Shit!" Jean wasn't sure what reacted first—his brain or his body—but he obediently fell like a sack of potatoes, ignoring the pain of his landing. He watched, wide-eyed, as the bandit's arm was pierced by a batarang, and he jerked his arm back with a scream, involuntarily firing it into the ground.
The next second, she had fired her taser, and the two small darts had hit the bandit, and sent a surge of energy coursing through his body.
Jean watched very carefully, either from shock or from professional deformation. When the bandit was completely knocked out, he allowed himself to stand up and dust himself off. "I didn't expect to meet a hero in a cemetery," he muttered grumpily. "I mean, thanks."
"I didn't expect to stop a mugging in a cemetery, but you're welcome."
She knelt down to fasten handcuffs around the wrists of the unconscious man and confiscate his gun.
"Lucky me," Jean muttered, hurrying to pick up the crumpled bouquet of flowers and his bag. "Some of the guys decided that since the cemetery is usually empty, they'd get something from the lonely visitors."
After a long night of patrol, Obsession had gone to visit Zavier's grave. She stood there for a while, thinking about the past. Thinking about what might have been different if he had lived.
The late night- or maybe early morning- air was cool and foggy. It wouldn't be long before the sun began to send its first feeble rays.
She stood in silent contemplation, until a sudden noise behind her made her turn.
@obsession-withthenight
"Right in the cemetery? Nothing sacred," Jean grumbled, and though his voice sounded irritated, his back tensed. The robber was aiming his pistol at him with a trembling hand, and he knew exactly what would happen if he didn't get out of this situation—because it was hard to miss at that distance, even with a poor aim.
She saw the situation and she knew she had to act fast. She couldn't get over there fast enough. If it was any weapon other than a gun... it was risky, but it was the best thought she had in the few seconds that she had left.
"DUCK!"
She yelled, and hurled a batarang. It may be hard to miss at that close range, but it was also hard to shoot with a batarang stuck in your wrist. In the same instant, she was running towards the pair, and readying her other weapons.
"Shit!" Jean wasn't sure what reacted first—his brain or his body—but he obediently fell like a sack of potatoes, ignoring the pain of his landing. He watched, wide-eyed, as the bandit's arm was pierced by a batarang, and he jerked his arm back with a scream, involuntarily firing it into the ground.
The next second, she had fired her taser, and the two small darts had hit the bandit, and sent a surge of energy coursing through his body.
Jean watched very carefully, either from shock or from professional deformation. When the bandit was completely knocked out, he allowed himself to stand up and dust himself off. "I didn't expect to meet a hero in a cemetery," he muttered grumpily. "I mean, thanks."
After a long night of patrol, Obsession had gone to visit Zavier's grave. She stood there for a while, thinking about the past. Thinking about what might have been different if he had lived.
The late night- or maybe early morning- air was cool and foggy. It wouldn't be long before the sun began to send its first feeble rays.
She stood in silent contemplation, until a sudden noise behind her made her turn.
@obsession-withthenight
"Right in the cemetery? Nothing sacred," Jean grumbled, and though his voice sounded irritated, his back tensed. The robber was aiming his pistol at him with a trembling hand, and he knew exactly what would happen if he didn't get out of this situation—because it was hard to miss at that distance, even with a poor aim.
She saw the situation and she knew she had to act fast. She couldn't get over there fast enough. If it was any weapon other than a gun... it was risky, but it was the best thought she had in the few seconds that she had left.
"DUCK!"
She yelled, and hurled a batarang. It may be hard to miss at that close range, but it was also hard to shoot with a batarang stuck in your wrist. In the same instant, she was running towards the pair, and readying her other weapons.
"Shit!" Jean wasn't sure what reacted first—his brain or his body—but he obediently fell like a sack of potatoes, ignoring the pain of his landing. He watched, wide-eyed, as the bandit's arm was pierced by a batarang, and he jerked his arm back with a scream, involuntarily firing it into the ground.
