#dc comics#dc#batman#tim drake#dick grayson#batfam#bruce wayne#batfamily#dc fanart
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I love the way you talk about Hot Pockets, 35! :D
35 laughed, “hey, when it’s one of the primary foods you have to live off of, you start to see it in a whole new light. Like the relationship between a broke college student and their ramen-that’s me and my Hot Pockets, have no doubt.”
(via 43versionsbetter): "So....you like Hot Pockets?" Katia asked 35. "Uh...." she pulled an uncertain, slightly queasy face.
35 stared at her curiously, “hm? Yeah? Is there something wrong with that? Didja know they’ve even got some now that come in a pretzel crust? Those are pretty good...”
[text, from Katia to 35]: Latest news from Vasily. He says FSB people invaded their house and it was awesome (hey, he's 14) and they tried to look through everything/take people hostage but I guess they were lower-level officers or sth cuz Anya's bf could throw around some cash and a couple bags of coke and get them to leave. (/encrypted) I take this to mean we're on the right track with the KGB and Uncle Vladimir
[text] Thanks for the update princess. hmm sounds like previous assumptions and theories are currently all on track. this may be good for us. were starting to get the bread crumbs we need-everyone leaves them. (/encrypted) Thanks Katia. Keep me updated on the subject if you find out any more. I’m getting my feelers out through my usual sources, but with something that long ago leads are few and far between. ill let you know.
[text, from Katia to 35]: parker's lying, and he's lying about lying. Called him on his bs and it turned into a huge fight because he just wanted to shut it down and like a stubborn fuck I refused to let him, now I'm the bad guy.
[text] Princess what did you say. and what did we say about going off on people without enough information? didnt we talk about this?
[text] sweetie i love u but this is a little....well. what DID happen?
@hxtmxn
35 stared up at the sky-it was nice and quiet this far from the main city, and the stars were so clear out here. It was unlikely 47 would yell-that wasn’t exactly the nature of his most ‘aristocratic’ little brother- but he didn’t want to take risks. Not when things of a delicate nature may be said aloud.
He dialed the number, and waited. This was far too long overdue a conversation to have.
@dianaburnwood
35 examined the number backwards and forwards, walking along the bridge as he mulled it over before finally dialing the number. Might as well get this over with. No doubt she’d have choice words for him, but that was why he left his apartment for this; he didn’t need to bother his neighbors with this sort of thing, and the walls were thinner than he’d like at all the worst times. And besides...the night sky was rather beautiful tonight.
“Please pick up....” This conversation was long overdue.
@agent100
[text, to 35]: You’re right. You were right this whole time. And now I’m really scared. I...I screwed up. It’s bad. I can’t fix it. 47 won’t let me. This is it I think. Part of me is just really scared; another part’s angry. I feel like I did what I could but it doesn’t mean anything.
@agent100
Katia slipped out of one of the guest rooms in the house and padded gently down the hall before knocking on one of the bedroom doors at the end of the hall, then poking her head in the room. “Vasily?” she asked. Vasily looked up; he was chunkier than what was often recommended, and wore the tank top and button up tee shirt he seemed prone to.
“Da?” Vasily asked.
“My friend down there,” she said, gesturing to the guest rooms, “he wants to help with finding uncle Vladimir. But he needs to know a few things first.”
“Like what?”
“Things you’ve found. Basic stuff: what he looks like, last known whereabouts, et cetera. Probably should bring your computer.”
Vasily considered her. “Is he KGB?” He said the letters as if they rhymed and flowed together. Katia shook her head. “Nyet. He’s...he’s like me.” Vasily considered her some more, and then nodded and folded his laptop closed for transport. They walked back down the hall to the guest rooms, Katia gently resting a hand between Vasily’s shoulders until they reached the door and Katia knocked and slipped them inside.
“Phil,” she said, with some conscious effort. “This is Vasily.”
