#batman#bruce wayne#dick grayson#batfamily#tim drake#batfam#dc fanart
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" yo, sick tatts, dude."
( what... ? )
"but i don't... have any... ?"
[ sms ] kilo. uniform. november. gold. papa. oscar. whiskey. papa. echo. november. india. sierra.
-- he's about ready to stare at the sun and that will seriously hurt him.
[✉] SAYING IT WITH INTER-REGIONAL RADIOTELEPHONY SPELLING ALPHABET DOESN'T CHANGE YOUR OPTIONS
[ sms ] kung pow penis
( you have got to be shitting me... )
[✉] two choices, dude [✉] fall in a ditch [✉] or [✉] fall in a ditch
" sooo... some of that vanilla shit? i bet ya'll fuck with eye contact, huh? "
they're so glad they'd only just swallowed the mouthful of water taken from the plastic bottle in their hand, as the sharp inhalation which follows gold's words are none too kind to their diaphragm -- grusha's almost certain hiccups will follow how much air they just managed to swallow. in an effort to abate the oncoming disruption of their body's regular breathing (and further ground themselves...) grusha very pointedly takes a slow breath...
the air is warm. it tastes of salt & the ocean which churns across the horizon they're looking at, washing stars from blackest depths against the rocks surrounding / splitting their light against stone so it seems to dissipate in the air & cling to the spray of water that drifts upward. though it doesn't quite reach them, high as they are above the water, it's nice to imagine they're able to touch stars once more.
... and releases the breath, only after doing so casting a sharp look to the more chaotic half of silver's childhood.
"mespirit forbid people be able to appreciate each other enough to show their love quietly, and softly." grusha deliberately words his retort; careful to encompass a general populous rather than allowing gold's comment to land squarely upon himself & silver. "regrettably, i'm aware of that word picking back up in slang --" he much prefers to read it in a recipe, "-- and i think anyone who condemns the simplicity of adoring one person with their everything, hasn't been lucky enough to know what it's like."
they remain staring at the smaller man for a moment, before heterochrome irises redirect to the sea.
"i thrived off the adrenaline of snowboarding for half my life. awesome as the rush is, i don't need it all the time. call me 'vanilla' or whatever, but 'vanilla' isn't empty. people who think the two are synonymous? lame."
@htcher it was sunday unfortunately / plot-flavored
@htcher replied: POINTS!
grusha straightens with the abrupt thrust of a finger gesturing directly to him, but after a moment's consideration ( realizing the point was not at him in the sense of his face/heart, but instead part of him ) eyes dare to follow the extended finger -- and gaze jumps back up in an instant as soon as they realize what's gestured to.
"my leg... ?" heterochrome falls from gold / looking absently across the distance between them, settling on the other man's knees. they fight, fiercely, within themselves to keep their expression something neutral. grusha can feel the inclination within himself to give way to the sudden splash of stress in their gut. "it's-- silver did it..." they fight to get their eyes to lift somewhat, and only jerkily managing to do so / pulling eyes up to gold's shoulders.
anxiety churns / seems as though it makes the air in their lungs insufficient, and only after two measured breaths are they able to stave off the reflexive panic that comes from attention being drawn to their infirmity. "the um... shinguard type thing?" left leg sidesteps partially, letting them bend with a hand against their knee and the other extended to point at what had been gestured to. "it's removable. silver made this one and others; have about three so far."
weight borne into their palm lets them press upright to stand, and even after doing so their eyes fail to fully meet gold's face. "th --" their voice seems to fade, and a pointed clearing of throat is what lets them speak afterward, "-- this one's... m'favorite." its mumbled, and hands come to plant on grusha's waist as their gaze falls to his own shoes, "matches more art silver did for my leg..."
"I will personally throw you into the ocean outside of Goldenrod."
Gold you're ruining her ability to scare you with violence if you keep being in to it. Stop.
@htcher
“ uuuUUGH. headphones aren’t enough, shay. i want this song to fuck me. “
She was just sitting in the train booth. She was just working on cleaning up some notes from her endemic camping study.
Then someone had to find her on said train, and he was just bold enough to not be immediately intimidated by her fuck off aura.
Then he goes and says that.
Sigh.
"Must be a good song because clearly you aren't listening to the brand new sentence that just came out of your mouth."
This was going to be a long train ride.
@htcher
"What would I do with a photo of you."
