#breatheflcra

[riddlethat]

@breatheflcra

The elevator churns and splutters. She’s coming down. It’s all here, laid bare for her to see: the scribbled green question marks. Steel in place of a human touch. The two-day old coffee on his desk and the glowing monitors. The drawings scrawled over the walls, hundreds of words circled and furiously crossed out. And deep in the belly of his workshop, bathed in the dim glow of a fritzing wire, Edward Nygma's stands alone, his voice strangled.

“No... You moron. Fraud!” A stomp. Static fills his monitor. “Don’t you make me—” 

He’d done it again. Edward throws his hand to the tower of his computer, and seeing red, fists shaking, he wants to rip, maim, throttle. He stops. He remembers the electrical burns from last time, the webs still up his arms, and a forced sound leaves him, ripping, raw. His desk rattles. “You couldn’t have. I calculated it; accounted for every conceivable outcome! You think you can get away with it? You think I don't know you cheated?!” Seething. Another smack, harder and faster. Bolts rattle off his desk and his mug smash-splatters onto the floor. Edward fumes. “Your days are numbered,” he warns, “and you’ll look at me when you beg—”

If he saw her at all, he didn’t show it.

[deciphertheriddler]

@breatheflcra || continued from here

Edward really didn't mind the blood and helping out. She sure didn't need to apologize, but since she seemed adamant on it, he just let her keep going, while he worked quietly on cleaning her up.

When she asks about his identity, though, he stops what he's doing, looking up to her face.

There's a small pause, and then-

"Bruce Wayne." Is what he offers as an answer, breaking into a smile and some giggles. He didn't even think in what name he would give, it just slipped. And wasn't that the funniest thing. "I'm Bruce fucking Wayne." He repeats, voice a little more high-pitched than normal.

[brokentoys]

@breatheflcra​ | LIKEY - WIKIED .

He’s  chugging  straight  from  the  wine  bottle.  Some  of  its  contents  doesn’t  quite  make  it  to  his  mouth,  &  drips  from  his  chin  to  stain  his  clothes.  He  didn’t  care,  though.  Eddie  is  far  too  intoxicated,  far  too  angry  to  care  about  anything.  &  the  well  -  dressed  hostages  that  are  tied  up  ?  They  seem  to  care  about  his  anger  as  they  shiver  &  snivel.

“  I decide  when  it  ends,  ”  he  declares  in  his  drunken  stupor,  a  reference  to  his  life,  to  THE  RIDDLER.  “  Nobody  -  nobody  will  -  nobody  will  tell  ME  what  to  do.  Why  -  here’s  a  riddle  for  you,  what’s  the  beginning  of  the  end  ?  ”

[solar-pxwered]

@breatheflcra​ liked for a starter with Rohan!

          Rohan Kishibe tapped his pen against his chin as he gazed out across the street with an empty, bored expression on his face. His sketchpad laid open in front of him on the table, the ice in his iced coffee melting as a ring of condensation formed around the bottom of the glass, the world was still and calm and that was...boring! 

          His publishers were waiting for his next manuscript now that he had told the story of their hunt for Kira in his own way. He sighed and flicked a splash of ink onto the blank page, hoping some kind of inspiration would strike him, but he just ended up staring at the splotch and feeling nothing.

          With a groan, he leaned back in his chair and set his pen down in favor of the coffee. Just as he tilted the glass back and took a drink, movement across the street caught his eye. A girl, nothing abnormal about her, and yet...something was drawing his attention to her. He felt an intense urge to approach her, something tugging at something subconscious inside him.

          Stand users are attracted to other Stand users. Koichi and Josuke seemed to think this was true, so maybe it was as simple as that? Either way, Rohan was always one to follow his impulses, so he collected his sketchpad and shoved it in his bag, slinging it over his shoulder and tossing enough yen on the table to cover the cost of his drink plus a decent tip, then he made his way across the street to see what it was that was pulling him there.

          “You there,” he called out, probably less well-mannered than he could have been, “If you have a moment, I’d like to talk to you!”

[oleasters]

@breatheflcra​ || continued from here

“I cannot, really, as I’ve never encountered an Ultra Beast myself... Though I do see your point.”

Even if she could not imagine a Dynamax Nihilego, she could certainly imagine the Darkest Day, Eternatus looming over Hammerlocke like a great, terrible storm cloud as her own Pokémon rampaged below. Any Pokémon could prove dangerous and unpredictable—let alone one from another dimension infused with Galar particles.

“The Max Lair is still being studied. Capable trainers who offer to explore it help to provide valuable data for research, and I’ve been told that there are certain safety measures put in place to protect the Pokémon. As for the trainers who are being sent in... I believe they understand full well the risks they face.”

“That being said, what would you suggest be done about it? It can’t very well be destroyed.”

[flosmatri]

@breatheflcra​ cont. from here

The tall woman remains quiet in reponse for a moment, though it seems the slight pain on her features subsides for the time being. Humans had always been so loud, these new modern changes certainly doesn’t help with that.

But there’s a soft exhale in response, tired eyes moving to gaze back upon the stranger as she shakes her head. “Migraines, nothing more.”

The Pillar Woman is otherwise quiet once more as she scans her surroundings, the human nothing but a mere background noise to her as she keeps her eyes peeled for something. Or someone.

   “. . .Hm. . . I do not suppose you know these parts, do you?”

[coollyinterferes]

unprompted asks 【always accepting】 @breatheflcra​

//straiwagon is a very good ship too ngl 👌👌

[brokentoys]

@breatheflcra​ SENT :

Yoink! Foxglove sweeps him off his feet like a sack of potatoes, one arm under his knees and another supporting his back. She does jostle him a bit to get him in an ideal lift position, before grinning at him. "Where to?"

Eddie  gasps  a  bit  too  sharply  as  his  feet  leaves  the  ground.  But,  once  he  settles  in  her  arms,  a  large,  goofy  grin  pulls  at  his  lips.  He  has  to  admit,  it  is  pleasant  being  carried.  His  body  is  a  bit  inept  at  walking,  anyway.  You  know,  hours  of  no  sleep  will  make  one  weak.  “  McDonald’s,  ”  Eddie  answers.  “  I  want  to  listen  to  the  rock  music  there.  ”