#bybeast

[darlingrat]

approaches you but in my rat form

. . . Why are you green? She wanted to ask, but she figured that sounded pretty — Rude. You couldn't just ask a rat that. What if they were self conscious about it? Conditions in Gotham weren't always the best. It was a real possibility that this poor fella had simply spent too long swimming through sewage; Or, even worse, he'd been exposed to something at the hands of Joker. That wretched clown — Odette already had a bone to pick with him, how cruelly he'd treated her babies prior. Dumping acid on them? I mean, how heartless could you be? Oh, now she's SURE it wasn't this sweetums' fault.

❝ come t' mama. ❞ With delicately cupped hands, she squats to fetch him. Once settled in her palm, an index finger strays away to scritch them atop fluffy head. ❝ aww, y'know, I think it's y'er colour! real dashin' an' what not. 's my favourite, anyway. ❞ She leans in to boop their noses together affectionately, proceeds to fish for something in her pocket. ❝ i bet someone would love a toasted cheese cracker right 'bout now, ehhh ?? ❞ Taaa daaa — She carries these around. For rat emergencies. You never know. ❝ starvin', ain't ch'a? oh, i bet if that cockroach did somethin' t' y'a, he didn't even FEED y'a first! makes me sick, it does. ❞ ⤷ @bybeast

[ioracle-arc1]

[ 9AM ] a diner smelling of breakfast food as rain patters on the window.

a neon sign flashes in the window of the diner, nestled in a side street of central gotham. breakfast served all day! barbara smiles as the waitress, a lovely lady whose nametag reads joan, places a pile of chocolate chip pancakes topped with whipped vanilla butter in front of her. an old favourite. a place that stirs up memories buried, but never forgotten. ❝ you know, nightwing and i used to come here all the time. of course, he went by robin back then. ❞ a prime spot for those whose job begins with the setting of the sun. barbara spears a triangle of pancake onto her fork. it tastes like teen spirit.

from across the table she assess @bybeast. a persona she is familiar with, yet barely knows. beast boy. member of the doom patrol and the titans. possess the ability to take the form of any animal. but garfield logan? what does she really know of him, other than his kind heart and easy smile. their paths didn't often cross. batgirl was never a titan. there was no reason to know much of him, until knowledge became her superpower. ❝ so, what did you need my help with? ❞

[darkforced]

❝ cool trick, man — what else can you do? ❞

@bybeast, sc

[f0rtomorrows]

there's a lot about my powers i don't understand yet. / from @bybeast!

hands clasped & hanging between his knees, clark finds a smile of understanding for the younger sat beside him, always overflowing with empathy. ne nods his head, singular curl moving with it. ❝ that's okay, ❞ chuckles clark, placing a warm hand on garfield's shoulder. ❝ that's just fine. i didn't get a good handle on mine until i was, i dunno, a sophomore in college ? ❞ awkward & treacherous times to navigate on their own ; add superpowers to the mix in a place like smallville & a boy will learn more than he would ever hope to outside classroom walls before he receives his high school diploma.

❝ how about we start with what you do understand ? from there, we can work our way backwards. ❞

[circusarrow]

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎he was starting to remember why he retired ( what felt like - ) every other month. training kept him in good shape, sure, but it didn't help the headache he'd gotten from stark and steve arguing again.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎two of the smartest people he knew - both behind just nat, and they still couldn't get their shit together. crazy.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎normally waiting for a cab wouldn't be this shit either, but clint barton wasn't known for his luck. sighing softly, he scanned the street. it almost feels like deja vu for a second.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎except - lucky wasn't green. he almost thought it was a trick of the light for a second, but no. carefully looking again, the blond crossed the street to approach. “ hey bud, whatcha doin' ? ”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎SC. // @bybeast

[f0rtomorrows]

[  TXT  ]  :  okay,  so  hear  me  out. cereal  is  basically  cold  soup,  right?

𝙎𝘼𝙄𝘿 𝙊𝙑𝙀𝙍 𝙏𝙀𝙓𝙏.

[ sms: garfield. 🦖 ] No ?? Cold soup is stuff like…gazpacho, and vichyssoise.

[ sms: garfield. 🦖 ] By that logic, soup would have to be hot cereal. Which it's not.

[ sms: garfield. 🦖 ] Garf, buddy, please don't plague my thoughts like this, I don't get enough sleep as it is.

[daughterofelarc]

[  TXT  ]  :  i  just  caused  a  scene  at  the  grocery  store.  be  ready  to  alibi  me.

CONTACT: garfield 🦖

⭒ txt : ooookay ⭒ txt : what kind of scene? i need a little more context than that

[seapurses]

there comes a time in wednesday’s life, every six months or so, where she remembers why she does what she does. the thrill of a new case excites her in a way that brings up memories of electroshock outings and violent fencing sessions ; a rush that she feels right down to the marrow in her bones. it’s new and familiar all at once ; poring over research, finding suspects, creating distastefully morbid evidence boards — all the way up to stomping up to whatever unsuspecting victim titan is on the receiving end of a sudden barrage of questioning.

“ we both know that this is hardly the first place i’d choose to be. ”

blunt and to the point, as she’s known to be. the addams tans a step towards @bybeast & holds a paper out, hastily scrawled in what looks like charcoal. a transcribed vision, evidently, “ this is your tower, yes ? show me where. ” quite demanding for a guest, though wednesday has never gone anywhere she didn’t feel she owned.