#c4tbooms

[musesmyway]

@c4tbooms sent:

[ clean ] + absolute!bruce

PROMPTS FOR COMFORTABLE INTIMACY

Bruce can't quite help but look up from what he's doing when her hand comes up to his face, curious as to what she was doing, as he wasn't quite aware of having anything on his face at the moment, not until she touched him to wipe it from his cheek. He's aware he's a bit of a mess, it comes with the territory when working on his own gadgets and tools, and things. Even when he's trying not to get dirty.

"Guess I made more of a mess of myself than I realised." He comments lightly, looking at his own hands, if only to check them to make sure he didn't have any more grime on them, only to think better of bringing one of them up to try and clean his face, knowing he'd make it worse. "I suppose I should go clean up..." Not that he wasn't planning on that, but he did wonder if it bothered her.

[bringthunder]

𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐅𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐘  how  shit  just  goes  wrong.  like,  a  crazy  amount  of  wrong.  a  wrong  so  nuts  that  it  drives  him  a  little  insane  to  think  about,  really.  one  thing  leads  to  another  leads  to  a  broken  nose  leads  to  a  grunt  as  he  lands  on  top  of  a  building  leads  to  a  hiss  as  he  realizes  exactly  how  red  the  lower  half  of  his  face  is.  lightning  boils  in  his  blood.    he  takes  a  breath.  wipes  blood  from  his  face  with  his  sleeve,  smearing  it  ‘cross  the  lower  half  of  his  face  in  the  process,  &&  takes  a  look  over  at  the  city.  in  his  back  pocket,  something  divine  rattles;  an  artifact  from  a  god  long  since  forgotten,  something  once  housed  in  some  glass  case  with  a  fancy  price  tag  attached  to  it.  mortal  hands  shouldn’t  have  gotten  a  hold  of  it  to  begin  with,  but  that  isn’t  his  concern.  no,  verso’s  concern  in  the  moment  is  the  fact  that  it  is  damn  near  two  in  the  morning  &&  all  he  has  to  show  for  his  efforts  is  a  funny  ball  in  his  pocket  &&  a  severe  lack  of  a  pep  in  his  step. ❝  swear  to  god,  ❞  he  hisses,  pushing  his  sunglasses  up  on  the  bridge  of  his  nose.  his  posture  straightens.  his  head  tips  to  the  side  like  a  curious  dog;  something  is  on  the  wind,  &&  he  can’t  tell  if  it’s  mortal  or  mythical.  best  to  assume,  then,  that  a  fight  is  coming.   ❝  if  anyone  is  going  to  pop  out  &&  try  to  rob  the  robber,  ❞  a  warning  is  rich  in  his  voice,  ❝  lemme  just  say,  you  should  probably  get  your  affairs  in  order  before  you  try.  ❞

@c4tbooms // starter call !!

[nightbins]

" do you have any idea what they were arguing about? "

❝ no idea. seems like the cops were pretty upset about batman's little stunt recently. seems like some of them wanted to get some sort of payback and some other cops were trying to defend him, damn near turned into a fist fight. ❞

not that he could necessarily blame the police for having some ill will with this so called caped crusader, but as usual, they always turned to violence before thinking of a better solution. he had his own opinions about this batman and the disregard he seemed to have when it came to those he injured on the path to stopping these villains, but he also had to admit he was trying to do more for the city than anyone else has. a bit odd that @c4tbooms was so curious about an inconsequential squabble between some police officers, but who was he to judge.

❝ not really a surprise, i think. it's not a secret that people have vastly different opinions about him. ❞

before sunrise ━ accepting

[spxnglr]

WHY DID IT ALWAYS RAIN IN GOTHAM? Granted, it was only ever business that called him here, but even so - were her constant downpours merely due to notoriously poor weather patterns? Or something else? Either way, it seemed to be an apt metaphor, a reflection of the rather sorry state the city was in as a whole. New York had her problems, but when compared, it was easy to find a beauty about her. Not Gotham. Her atmosphere was dark, and thick, like a lingering smog.

HE WAS TRYING HARD NOT TO GRIMACE AT THE FACT THAT HE WAS GETTING DRENCHED. His hair was now a mass of dark ringlets, round-lensed spectacles splattered with droplets. A trickle occasionally dripped from the end of his nose. Meanwhile, his acquaintance, dressed in a literal catsuit, didn't seem to be faring much better. Wasn't latex supposed to be waterproof?

HE WAS ALREADY RUNNING SCANS WHILE OBSERVING THE INDIVIDUAL IN QUESTION. The PKE Meter had already detected something, but he'd need to get closer in order to obtain a more accurate picture.

❝ Do you know who he's supposed to be? ❞

@vespert1nes || 𝙲𝙾𝙽𝚃.

[helraising-archived]

✞‎ ‎ ·‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ @c4tbooms‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ :‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ / &. /‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎continued from here.

“ah, ‎ ‎ ‎ you ‎ ‎ ‎ went ‎ ‎ ‎ there,” ‎ ‎ ‎ not ‎ ‎ ‎ taken ‎ ‎ ‎ aback, ‎ ‎ ‎ not ‎ ‎ ‎ disappointed, ‎ ‎ ‎ not ‎ ‎ ‎ — ‎ ‎ ‎ nothing ‎ ‎ ‎ negative ‎ ‎ ‎ of ‎ ‎ ‎ the ‎ ‎ ‎ sorts, ‎ ‎ ‎ helena ‎ ‎ ‎ is ‎ ‎ ‎ rather ‎ ‎ ‎ amused. ‎ ‎ ‎ “i ‎ ‎ ‎ was ‎ ‎ ‎ hoping ‎ ‎ ‎ you’d ‎ ‎ ‎ go ‎ ‎ ‎ for ‎ ‎ ‎ something ‎ ‎ ‎ spicier, ‎ ‎ ‎ but ‎ ‎ ‎ all ‎ ‎ ‎ right. ‎ ‎ ‎ i ‎ ‎ ‎ see ‎ ‎ ‎ we’re ‎ ‎ ‎ cutting ‎ ‎ ‎ to ‎ ‎ ‎ the ‎ ‎ ‎ chase.”

every ‎ ‎ ‎ point ‎ ‎ ‎ that ‎ ‎ ‎ selina ‎ ‎ ‎ raises ‎ ‎ ‎ has ‎ ‎ ‎ its ‎ ‎ ‎ merit, ‎ ‎ ‎ rightfully. ‎ ‎ ‎ huntress ‎ ‎ ‎ is ‎ ‎ ‎ not ‎ ‎ ‎ an ‎ ‎ ‎ easy ‎ ‎ ‎ person ‎ ‎ ‎ to ‎ ‎ ‎ like. ‎ ‎ ‎ selina ‎ ‎ ‎ is ‎ ‎ ‎ not ‎ ‎ ‎ an ‎ ‎ ‎ easy ‎ ‎ ‎ person ‎ ‎ ‎ to ‎ ‎ ‎ know ‎ ‎ ‎ like ‎ ‎ ‎ the ‎ ‎ ‎ back ‎ ‎ ‎ of ‎ ‎ ‎ your ‎ ‎ ‎ hand. ‎ ‎ ‎ there ‎ ‎ ‎ should’ve ‎ ‎ ‎ been ‎ ‎ ‎ more ‎ ‎ ‎ friction ‎ ‎ ‎ than ‎ ‎ ‎ fraternity ‎ ‎ ‎ in ‎ ‎ ‎ the ‎ ‎ ‎ dynamic ‎ ‎ ‎ between ‎ ‎ ‎ ‘cat’ ‎ ‎ ‎ and ‎ ‎ ‎ ‘hunts’; ‎ ‎ ‎ helena’s ‎ ‎ ‎ guesses ‎ ‎ ‎ about ‎ ‎ ‎ her ‎ ‎ ‎ should ‎ ‎ ‎ not ‎ ‎ ‎ have ‎ ‎ ‎ worked ‎ ‎ ‎ out ‎ ‎ ‎ as ‎ ‎ ‎ smoothly ‎ ‎ ‎ as ‎ ‎ ‎ they ‎ ‎ ‎ have ‎ ‎ ‎ so ‎ ‎ ‎ far, ‎ ‎ ‎ and ‎ ‎ ‎ now, ‎ ‎ ‎ she ‎ ‎ ‎ looks ‎ ‎ ‎ suspect. ‎ ‎ ‎ deservedly ‎ ‎ ‎ so.

maybe ‎ ‎ ‎ where ‎ ‎ ‎ huntress ‎ ‎ ‎ has ‎ ‎ ‎ missed ‎ ‎ ‎ her ‎ ‎ ‎ mark ‎ ‎ ‎ is ‎ ‎ ‎ failing ‎ ‎ ‎ to ‎ ‎ ‎ foresee ‎ ‎ ‎ that, ‎ ‎ ‎ despite ‎ ‎ ‎ the ‎ ‎ ‎ noir, ‎ ‎ ‎ mythic ‎ ‎ ‎ reputation ‎ ‎ ‎ catwoman ‎ ‎ ‎ leans ‎ ‎ ‎ on, ‎ ‎ ‎ selina ‎ ‎ ‎ isn’t‎ ‎ ‎ as ‎ ‎ ‎ guarded ‎ ‎ ‎ as ‎ ‎ ‎ one ‎ ‎ ‎ might ‎ ‎ ‎ conveniently ‎ ‎ ‎ believe. ‎ ‎ ‎ there ‎ ‎ ‎ are ‎ ‎ ‎ things ‎ ‎ ‎ the ‎ ‎ ‎ cat ‎ ‎ ‎ outbraves ‎ ‎ ‎ the ‎ ‎ ‎ crossbow-wielder ‎ ‎ ‎ at.

“the ‎ ‎ ‎ story’s ‎ ‎ ‎ longer ‎ ‎ ‎ than ‎ ‎ ‎ that, ‎ ‎ ‎ i’m ‎ ‎ ‎ afraid ‎ ‎ ‎ — ‎ ‎ ‎ but ‎ ‎ ‎ i’m ‎ ‎ ‎ not ‎ ‎ ‎ scared ‎ ‎ ‎ to ‎ ‎ ‎ get ‎ ‎ ‎ into ‎ ‎ ‎ the ‎ ‎ ‎ nitty-gritty ‎ ‎ ‎ and ‎ ‎ ‎ spoil ‎ ‎ ‎ the ‎ ‎ ‎ fun ‎ ‎ ‎ parts ‎ ‎ ‎ for ‎ ‎ ‎ you, ‎ ‎ ‎ if ‎ ‎ ‎ you’re ‎ ‎ ‎ still ‎ ‎ ‎ interested,” ‎ ‎ ‎ helena ‎ ‎ ‎ tilts ‎ ‎ ‎ her ‎ ‎ ‎ head, ‎ ‎ ‎ unwaveringly ‎ ‎ ‎ still ‎ ‎ ‎ in ‎ ‎ ‎ contrast ‎ ‎ ‎ to ‎ ‎ ‎ selina’s ‎ ‎ ‎ continual ‎ ‎ ‎ movements. ‎ ‎ ‎ “so, ‎ ‎ ‎ you ‎ ‎ ‎ ever ‎ ‎ ‎ hear ‎ ‎ ‎ of ‎ ‎ ‎ this ‎ ‎ ‎ little ‎ ‎ ‎ thing ‎ ‎ ‎ called ‎ ‎ ‎ the ‎ ‎ ‎ multiverse?”

[apolytia]

The forest floor rumbles. As if hosting a flood; a stampede of rushing thoughts and worries across its back, the dense canopy of life rattles and rolls around the witch's feet. The sounds of excavation, of high-yield detonations and vainglorious blasphemy . . . and yet, she found herself unable to approach. Held back, held at attention by a voice from within and without. Eyes open, Princess. The voice of The Hunt over her shoulder whispers just above the rumble of percussive excavation; the presence 'neath her elbow adjusts her arm. Focusing her aim elsewhere among the rumbling? A shadow in the shape of a [...] woman? A beast. Stood on two shadowed legs with a gilded gaze and - and a weapon in hand. Aimed square at - DIANA. EYES OPEN.

Light. Faintly buzzing just beneath where she sat, and offering up a shaky halo of light to pull her from her memories and keep her in her body. Another vision playing with her past. A message from above, she'd always assumed. A portent of tidings to come, good or otherwise, that she ought keep close by.

Rare were missives from her elders. Often months or even years between one-sided conversations... Save for in this place. In Gotham, she felt farther from her Many Mothers than ever. And yet she could not help but hear from them while she was here.

A curiosity. A blessing? A - Hff. A question for another time.

There was a heartbeat behind her. A twice-blessed one that lifted her mind from darkened corners upon recognition.

❝ You're getting better at your craft, @c4tbooms. I nearly missed your approach. ❞

[nightbins]

top 5 costume choices, 🦀🦀🦀

1. the modern one. or I know he's this style of suit before, but the blue continuing down his arms and ending at his fingers just makes sense. also love the blue mask too

2. rebirth suit, only thing holding it back is the blue doesn't continue down his arms, but otherwise its basically the same suit. kind of like the boots more somedays and somedays I don't

3. dan mora robin suit, and this isn't even close in terms of his other robin suits. when I write robin dick this is the suit he's wearing, like its just peak

4. discowing. don't hurt em now dick ! lowkey wish his suit had a little yellow in it somewhere again

5. this flavor of his normal suit, just red. I don't care for the belt but black and red is an undefeated combo

top 5 / top 10 ━ accepting

[santahierro]

❝ Looking for trouble, dove? ❞

Not a question. Might sound like it, the way the words curled past her lips like smoke. Might feel like it, what with her approaching @c4tbooms cold, holding up a fresh champagne flute in one hand, and a half-drunk ... ? Oh, sorry, all-drunk champagne flute in the other.

But no. No, no, no, see! Neva's gifted. Could see things in ways others couldn't. Could see trouble brewing, and hear the warning caterwauls in the dark.

And among all the rich shits milling around discussing their dark deeds in the privacy of this bubble? The trouble in the air was surrounding the curiosity on the receiving end of that empty champagne flute.

❝ Want some - Oh, come off it. ❞ Wrong hand. Switched around. Empty held close, full one held out to the dangerous woman with the sharp eyes. ❝ - company? ❞

the first call.