#bloodsprt

[justshadesofgreyarchive]

♢   ♢   ♢  starter for @bloodsprt​

                   it’s an unusual feeling, being WATCHED. sure, it’s one she’s gotten used to over the years – but the hairs on the back of her neck still stand to attention beneath the thick faux leather weave of her suit, pushing back against the tight fibers and making her TENSE. Selina’s lips curl, a knowing smile forming as her tongue flicks against the roof of her mouth, a sarcastic TUT falling out and echoing around the cavernous tunnels of Gotham’s slimy underground system –

                           ❝ you should know better than to try to sneak up on a thief…. ❞

[ratcherish]

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋.   @bloodsprt

     “I want to turn back the clock to before . . .” Her words are soft. Crumpled. Initially, she wasn’t planning on saying anything as she neared the other. After all, it wasn’t quite his style. But she couldn’t stop herself, as thoughts spilled from cut lips regardless if she wanted them to.      “Before Peacemaker―” Her voice breaks, and it feels as if the weight of the world was suffocating her. “B-before Abner―” Cleo sniffles, the rat nest ( quite literally, in some cases ) atop her head covered her face as her shoulders hunched. “We . . . we did a good thing, but ― but that won’t b-bring them back. It won’t make things like before.” Another sharp inhale catches, as she attempts to steady her breathing.      “. . . I miss it so much. I miss them― us. The team.” They were the only friends she had known. Upon the streets, none of the other children wished to even get near her. Nevertheless, play with her. Get to know her. No, all she had was her Papa and the rats. And then only the rats. And while she still cherished them. And she was still grateful for her friends who survived, more than anything she missed the naivety she once held. Before the betrayal. Before the death. "I don't know how to carry this."

[savantdurlin]

Ah. How did the youth communicate in this day and age? As far as Savant was concerned, he had always been here and seen everything, and though a verifiable technological genius he still struggled just a little with the actual talking to people part. On the Internet, anyway. In person he was much more charismatic, or so he'd been led to believe. Perhaps the blackmail part was doing the heavy lifting in that regard.

Whatever the case, here he was, a phone in his hands, people watching intently. Or rather, watching one of the people with a great deal of interest. Built almost entirely of muscular bulk, Bloodsport almost looked like a normal person in this establishment, waiting to meet with someone who was not Savant. Surely he could change that.

He sent a text that he ensured could not be traced back to him, although his intense stare would certainly give the game away.

'Bloodsport! What a coincidence, seeing you here :)'

@bloodsprt