#wendyonwheels

[jasonalghul]

+ wendyonwheels

"Can I help you?"

[aquarad-a]

wendyonwheels

Opinion on;

Character in general: I honestly didn't know this character well at all until I started interacting with them, and now I love WendyHow they play them: I love reading her postsThe Mun: again, such a sweetie

Do I:

RP with them: yesWant to RP with them: yes

What is my;

Overall Opinion: Awesome character, awesome mun <3

[xcallous]

wendyonwheels replied to your post:Reason why I’m beyond done: 

ugh no they are too cute together they need to stahp i can’t handle it

|| They are the cutest, it's not even fair.

lejumeautendre replied to your post:Reason why I’m beyond done: 

WHERE DID THAT COME FROM

|| Don't even. It gets worse/better. I cried 

[aquarad-a]

✖

If I receive 5 ✖ , I’ll post a photo of my mun.

4/5

[aquarad-a]

wendyonwheels replied to your post:Bart is pregnant with your kid

Yes, Garth. Play cards. No more “go fish” for you.

"But I like go fish..."

[calculatingdoom]

"Come on, pick up, please pick up..." [We are unavailable to take your call. Please leave a message after the tone.] "DAMMIT!!" [*beep*] "Dad? Look, you...you can't leave! Why would you do this?! You can't...you can't just leave me alone like this! Not now! You can't keep running away!!" Her voice had cracked and was beginning to fade. Tears filled her eyes as she finished. "You know what? Forget it. Forget you. I don't even care. Just leave. Good bye."

He had already packed up his workstation proper, folded the critical components down and hidden them away in the centers of Rubick’s Cubes and handheld puzzles. A wrong twist, and the data would destruct. The hard drives he had destroyed, their dented husks scattered around the streets of Gotham City. His building had burned down. Hideouts were disposable after all, it would never do to become too attached. He had remained here much too long already, careless, careless. Noah shook his head angrily, stuffing his favorite jacket into a knapsack. His apartment had never been lived in properly, it had always been more of a staging ground than a home. It didn’t do to get attached, not to anything. Not to anyone.

Was he forgetting anything? He had a few changes of clothes, several thousands of dollars in unmarked dollars, yen, yuan, and rubles. The ties Wendy had given him, slid under his door while he was out. He had spent four hours making sure the box wasn’t a bomb before he would even go close to it. A disposable phone, stolen laptop, a vial of Marvin’s DNA. The base code to the Kilg%re AI, which he needed to re-write at some point. Four passports, driver’s licenses, a fake trophy to give him some backstory if he was stopped anywhere. Boom Tube, guns. His hard-light suit was stashed in a warehouse. That was everything. That was it. 

He’d go to Santa Prisca. Bane owed him a few favors, he could call them in. Set up a safehouse. He’d send someone to get Wendy, a new Hellhound maybe, once he’d scouted out the area. It would be easy.

He shouldered his pack, taking a last look at the bare room. It would be ‘accidentally’ demolished by a drunk construction worker in a few hours.

Distracted by schemes and memories, Noah forgot that he wasn’t answering his phone. It was Wendy. She was speaking to the voicemail. He held his breath, so as not to give away his presence on the line. When she hung up, he kept the phone to his ear for a long time, listening to the static hum.

Everything he had learned in his years of information brokering to the most dangerous men and women on the planet told him to run. Cut his ties, ALL of them, and start over. And yet…he didn’t want to go. Completely irrationally, illogically, though it might get them both killed, he did not WANT to go. Wendy’s tear-ragged voice snagged like Despair’s hook in his heart. Wiping his eye with his wrist (this building had so much dust, it was horrible), he dialed her number. 

"You win Wendy. I’ll stay. What do you propose I…we…do next?"

[calculatingdoom]

Codes to Perdition

In the very back of his mind, the part where all his corrupted memory and file fragments settled, he had known some day he would end up in over his head. Some day, someone would find out who he was, track him down, and kill him like a dog. He accepted that. There were failsafes, ways to cheat death with the proper preparation. The brain was no more than a computer after all. 

He had gambled before, staked everything for information; he had run diagnostics of Alex Luthor behind his back, knowing that those who pried too deeply into Luthor's background tended to end up dead in a ditch. He had angered Black Adam, and stood his ground. He had turned a ring of vicious hackers against each other, so he could take the Kilg%re AI as his prize. Information is never free, after all.

He had hung by the neck for tortuous seconds, as Darkseid's self-proclaimed prophet tried to set an example for those who might withhold information. The real Luthor had saved him then, for the long-ago impostor had been murdered. 

And sometimes, true, he made mistakes. Flamebird was actually Firehawk, and so what? A D-grade villain got apprehended. Noah could always pretend it was intentional, that he had been slighted in some way. Information is fickle, and never free, after all.

So there were few things that truly frightened him. Not to know, above all. Information that even he was unable to pay for. His memories, that still played in his head during the quiet hours. That he would fail his daughter; that she would be discovered, and hurt, to get to him.

Not too long ago, he had been responsible for the kidnapping and near-murder of the Crime Doctor's young child. He had hunted them both down, and sicced Prometheus on them. Because they crossed him, and the Society. The Crime Doctor was now dead, and no one had seen the child in years. He regretted little; he regretted this.

Then there was Marvin: for a time, he thought it best that his children did not know him. Marvin was killed; Wendy was paralyzed. He could have stopped that, if he had stood his ground all those years ago, when their mother...but he hadn't. 

Since then, he had done everything in his power to keep Wendy safe. It was no longer enough.

The Joker had found her.

The Joker had found her, and Noah was scared like never before.

The Joker was the one man even the Luthors seemed to fear; he was the one who had killed Alexander, who had reshaped worlds. He always lurked on the periphery of destruction, a cackling hyena with a mouth full of vipers. He had been there when the Silicon Syndicate fell. He had been there when worlds split and merged. He had been there after the Batman died (and perhaps during his ressurection?) The Joker was the widening gyre, and the knight of Entropy. He laughed in the face of death.

This was the man who had found Noah's daughter. 

He had choices to make now, and he could not afford to make a mistake:

1. He could drop off the face of the map, set up a base in Markovia or Santa Prisca. He had a Boom Tube. He could make Wendy come with him. Was anywhere safe?

2. He could call in every favor he was owed, every heavy hitter who he had ever helped, and set them on the Joker. He feared this would not be enough; the Joker was the boogeyman, the one they all feared. Shots missed him, he moved just out of arm's reach, he always survived. 

3. He could turn himself in, to Batman, or Oracle, with the caveat that they must protect Wendy. 

4. He could go the way of the Crime Doctor, but would that stop the Joker from killing Wendy anyway? He doubted it. 

He had to plan. He had to think. 

He was the Calculator. He was one of the smartest men on the planet. If he couldn't think his way out of this situation, no one could.

But why did it feel like he was a rat in a maze, winding deeper and deeper into the tester's trap?