#ariamuses: 02.

[teenpetulance]

@ariamuses: is it something i did?

clarisse knows she’s been angry for days—more than usual, that is—but it has far more to do with herself than silena. she’s familiar with jealousy: she felt it whenever luke had a sword in his hands, whenever percy was given another quest, whenever her brothers were given real, positive attention from ares. she’s no stranger to it, but this still feels different, because it has absolutely nothing to do with the need for recognition or glory. in fact, she doesn’t even want to consider what it does have to do with, because she has no interest in dissecting exactly why her head feels clouded with rage every time she sees silena with beckendorf. she should be happy for her, and she wants to be, but it’s hard when she feels like she’s lost something, too. and for that, she’s angry with herself: angry that she can’t be a better friend, that she can’t get a hold of herself, that she doesn’t know how to relieve the feeling.

“ no, ” clarisse grumbles, scowling at the edge of her spear, finding it easier to focus on the weapon than her. “ i’ve just been busy. jackson’s only got one more year until he’s sixteen. which means i only have one more year to train for the end of the world. ” it’s technically true that she’s been spending all her time training lately, but it’s not entirely out of paranoia— it’s just the only acceptable way to ease some of her irritation. “ didn’t figure you’d notice. you’ve been pretty busy enjoying your honeymoon phase, or whatever. ”

[eueclid]

“ Hey. Glad you spent the night. ” He rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands, having to blink three times to make sure he truly saw @ariamuses standing in front of him. Once he’s sure, Jason starts grinning, then turns to the coffee maker behind him. Pretty cheap, compared to what she’s used to — no, it’s dirt cheap compared to what she’s used to. A shitty years - old secondhand keurig was way below her budget for sure. Still, Jason looks over his shoulder, operating the machine from muscle memory. “ Coffee? ”

[eueclid]

“ And what have I ever done to make you think I'm a rational human being? ” They were so close, and part of him has expected her to back out by now. A normal person would. But Jason Todd was not a normal person, not by any means. Perhaps if he was, he wouldn't have met the girl he's into on a roof where they end up removing their disguises in order to stand super close to each other while the sounds of Gotham fill the air around them.

He notices he's holding his breath eventually, and quietly exhales through his nose as he takes her in. She really is beautiful. Jason knows if he says it, it'll likely stroke her ego. Maybe later. “ I think we both know it's a bad idea. ” He murmurs, eyes flicking down to her lips briefly before he looks at her again. “ But when has that ever stopped either of us before? ” He murmurs, looking down at her lips again before he leans forward, one of his hands resting against her cheek as he presses his lips to hers and kisses her.

she wishes she had more self control, she wishes many things in fact, but right now:‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎she wishes she had more self control.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎or maybe if the mask was back on, pulled quickly over her head, her alter ego could keep her in check.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎crossfire was calm and controlled,‎ juliette has always been and will always be indulgent, spoiled and always craving more.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎that's why her lips pull into a line, an attempted smothering of the twitch of the corner of her lips upwards.

"it would take a lot from you to convince me that you're a changed man."‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎there's a quick fake pout, as if she felt sorry for him, for that response she gave just above a whisper.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎the moonlight catches them like a spotlight, and for a second she feels peering eyes, and has to quickly check to ensure they were alone‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎(to make sure that this side of herself gets to stay secret, private, this vulnerability).‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎when her brown gaze flicks back she realizes he's close, too close and yet she's not moving.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"a rational person would say that if you had to ask if something was a bad idea, it's probably a bad idea."‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎she over annunciates the last word, her voice now at the smallest possible whisper.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"what do you think?"

[eueclid]

@ariamuses : Look what I got.

Aria’s voice distracts her, causing her to look up over her monitor at what she seemed to be so excited about. It was something wrapped, square shaped. Was she supposed to know what that was? Something they buried years ago in middle school, something A would have used against them? Or would? Or maybe she’s just paranoid. It’s just a gift. From her mom, maybe? That would be nice.

“ Am I supposed to be a mind reader or something? What is that? ” Spencer shuts her laptop, then rests her chin in her hands. “ Please tell me it’s just a necklace or something. I don’t know if I can handle any more surprises. ”

[eueclid]

Damn these new pistols. Damn them. More resistance on the trigger, but in exchange for a harder hit straight from the business end of his gun. That was why he was practicing for once — the recoil was difficult to get used to to, compared to the ones he had before that had virtually none. At least none he could feel.

With nothing but the sound of his steady breathing, he takes the time he usually doesn’t to aim. Should be the same as usual, he’ll first shoot one, then the other, then both. With one eye closed, feeling like a novice, he pulls the trigger.

And bang. He hits his mark, but he was off guard. The kickback from the gun radiates through his arm, which makes him grimace. “ Fuck you, pistol. ” Jason half growls, placing it back in his holster. He starts to walk towards the target he shot, mostly to appreciate his handiwork, but he’s interrupted.

@ariamuses : Ooh . . . That's gotta hurt.

“ What the hell are you doing here? ” He turns to look at her, hands on his hips and a grimace on his face. “ It felt fine. Obviously. ” Vibrations still shot up his arm, but he ignores it. He needs to figure out what to do with the next shot so this doesn’t happen. “ I had this place first, unless you’re planning to watch and learn from the greatest — then, by all means, please stay. ”

[eueclid]

@ariamuses : The angry, reckless vigilante bit is my thing.

“ First off, I didn’t realize it was a thing only one person can have. Second, if anyone got to be an angry, reckless vigilante, it should be me. ” He glances up at her from his book, eyebrow cocked with a slight scowl. He was reading about Elizabeth and Darcy’s first meeting, and she was ruining it. “ Besides, even if you were the angry, reckless type, doesn’t mean you can’t have hobbies. ” He had to find this out the hard way — he picked up his first book in prison, and he’s liked reading ever since. “ See? Even I, the angriest and most reckless of them all has an outlet that doesn’t involve shooting someone. It’s quite therapeutic. ”

[eueclid]

“ The worst that can happen? Be serious, Crossfire. ” His tone is harsh, but when isn't it these days? It feels like each and every little thing grates at him, makes his blood curdle and tortures his mind. Though, Jason supposes he should be grateful. At least Joker isn't the one after them tonight, or the one they're after. He's not quite sure what he'd do if he saw that piece of shit again. Kill him, maybe? Stomp his head in, then lock him in a room stuffed to the brim with dynamite? He can hear Bruce's voice in his head scolding him, but he's far beyond caring.

“ And what about when they leave your field of view? When they get the hook on you and your long range weapons are useless? ” Perhaps he's being harsh, but it's needed. “ These are better. Long range and close range, no one is messing with me. ” He refers to his guns, of course, twin pistols that hadn't missed a single shot since he bought them. “ Besides, you can't hide forever. Unless you plan on working with someone forever. Would that make you the sidekick? Let me tell you, it sucks. ” He pauses, eyes squinting as something catches his attention. Just a bird. Thank God he didn't shoot. “ I'll die again before I let someone else's reputation affect mine. ”

JASON T.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎–‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎JULIETTE K.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎✶ ࿐ ˚ . ˋ ♡‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎" YOU HAVE TO SHOW THEM THAT YOU'RE NOT REALLY SCARED. "

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎he doesn't know it, but his words speak to the small girl you buried in your chest as a means of survival.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎every time her brown eyes opened up to the opulence of the sun seeping through sheer curtains‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎(imported at a cost that would save more than a few)‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎she was scared, heart beating in her chest as she tip toed down creaking stairs‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎––cold even in the summer.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎you, many years later, now sit and refuse to admit any form of fear:‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎out of spite or out of protection, keeping the girl beneath you trapped in a glass cage.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎her mother, your mother, was too willing to throw her to the wolves to keep the world order, you will do no such thing, not to her or the next girl like her.

" i'm not scared. "‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎you've practiced those words in your head, over and over, snapping quick darkened gaze up to @eueclid as you say them‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎...‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎there is a true assuredness to them, you believe them, as much as you can.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎" what's the worst that can happen? "‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎an insensitive comment, one then that falters into a quake on your lips:‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎the worst that can happen is death, ask the red hood before you.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎apologies don't come easy, so instead, you turn back down to pull a three fingered glove over your right hand:‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎fingers splay and stretch, maybe even twitch for a string to fall delicately beneath them.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎" even if i were, a bow wouldn't allow them to get close enough to see it. "‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎a brow raises, tone lightens, as best you can allow.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎" one of the benefits of long distance weaponry, i guess. "

[teenpetulance]

most of the time, clarisse finds it admirable, the way silena isn't afraid of her the way the greater majority seem to be, but now, it's backfiring on her. with an indignant sigh, she forces herself to look silena in an eye, as if that's going to prove a point, but all it does is add fuel to the fire burning in her chest. she just hopes that the daughter of aphrodite can't detect that, because this is all embarrassing enough as it is. “ i'm not pissed at you. ” that's the worst part of it all for her— she doesn't have anyone to be mad at, no target for her rage, so she's left with no outlet. she can't be mad at silena, because she's supposed to want the best for her; she can't be mad at beckendorf, because how could clarisse possibly blame him for wanting the same thing as her? there's always aphrodite to blame, but that would just make this all the more amusing to the goddess, and she can't let her win.

“ yeah, no. i'm not that clingy. ” maybe it does have a little to do with the time she's been spending with her boyfriend, but clarisse's pride won't allow her to admit that, because any excuse for it is pathetic: she won't be the friend who gets mad about a new boyfriend, and she can't be the loser with a crush she's not ready to face herself. “ why are you acting like me being pissed off is new? ask anyone— it's my whole thing. ” just not with her, which is a red flag all on it's own, because she's never softened even slightly for anyone before. and right now, she understands why.

she can feel her lips purse without even thinking about it, a pout slipping onto her lips without any control.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎it's not difficult to feel, the slight warmth that radiates off clarisse's skin onto hers.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎it leads to frustration, painted across her face that is usually good at hiding emotion's like these.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎clarisse is a bad liar, and for a moment she's greatly appreciative...‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎but appreciation turns to annoyance quicker than she can control.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎the wall between them appeared out of nowhere‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎(on the surface, ask her to think it through and see how her expression changes),‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎and it felt terrible, dramatic perhaps, to not be able connect with the other girl as usual.

"you suck at lying, you can't even look me in the eye."‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎some part of her wants to speak gently, empathetically, a state she loves being in for her, for clarisse:‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎but the other part just wants to bite, catch the daughter of ares where she's at.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎the other part is winning.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"right there!‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎i can hear it in your tone, like you're pissed at me or something."‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎her arms fold over her chest, and back presses gently into a tree behind her, a perfect way to appear cool, calm, something of that sort.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"is it because i'm spending more time with charlie?‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎if i'm not spending enough time with you, i'm sorry, i really didn't realize but you're clearly lying about it being nothing."

[eueclid]

“ So, donuts, eggs, or oatmeal? You're making it really easy to pick. ” He teases, reaching for his own mug and taking a quick sip. The bitter liquid burns his tongue, though it doesn't bother him. His pain tolerance is high, nerves dulled from taking a hammer to the skull. “ Oh, you can stay as long as you want. I know it's not up to your typical standard, but I like to think I've done okay for myself. ” A real bachelor pad, complete with a bare kitchen, a tv, a couch with some patches on it, and a bed. He hopes she'll stay — was it too much to hope that she'd stay? She hasn't run at the shitty coffee, or the offer for shitty donuts, and she didn't run when she came in last night, though he could blame the singular lamp in his living room for masking the state of it. “ It's not fancy, and I think Bruce would keel over and die if he saw this place, but it's mine. ” One of the only things that was his that wasn't given to him because Bruce decided to take him in off the streets — of course he was grateful for that, but a lot of his memories had been soured and he wasn't doing well on un - souring them. “ Um, eggs it is. Don't feel like leaving. ” He gently bumps her with his hip, then walks over to his fridge. “ Donuts later, yeah? I think she'll hold onto 'em for me. I kind of just want to enjoy this before my brain tells me I made it up. ”

she cannot help the slight etch of a grin that sits on her lips, no matter how much she wants to.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎she's so good at playing it cool, learned how to act that way when she was just a kid––‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎that's what one learns when forced into a relationship, when asked to be so many things she's not, and never will be.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎but not here, not now:‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎suddenly that's out the door.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"thanks."‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎a quick sip is bitter, and she feels bad for the passing thought that it's cheap, but she doesn't let it show.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎it's warm, and it's coffee, what more does she need?‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"i could go for some donuts..."‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎she bumps his shoulder with her own, a teasing action as she moves to stand side by side with him:‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎another sip.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"or eggs, or oatmeal.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎really, whatever you want.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎shockingly i have nothing planned for today."‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎her voice indicates a real surprise as she thinks it through, and surprise quickly turns to comfort as her shoulders roll back and ease settles within her: ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎a day to herself, a rarity.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"i don't wanna overstay my welcome though, if you're trying to kick me out."‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎again, she's teasing, offering him a smile as she places the mug on the counter behind her.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"which, you know, would be rude."

[eueclid]

He likes how she looks in his shirt, but doesn't say so — though, the way he looks at her speaks volumes, with the satisfied smirk on his lips and the way his eyes go up and down her body before he focuses back on the coffee maker in front of him. “ Got it. I take it the same. ” He says, reaching into his cabinets to pull out two mismatching mugs. Totally, not even close to what he knows Juliette is used to, but it's what he has. Once it finishes brewing, he fills her mug first, pushing it towards her before he fills his. Hey, kinda thought you were gonna dip. He wants to say, but doesn't. “ Want anything to eat? ” His hand rests on his bare abdomen, then he turns back to look at the coffee maker. “ I can make us eggs and toast, or oatmeal, or something. ” He fills his mug now, and brings it to his lips almost immediately. “ Or we could go get donuts. There's a place down the street who sells me their day - olds for cheaper. ” Then, he grimaces, remembering who he's talking to. There may have been a point where he would have been the same as her — though, were that the case, the giant scar seen out of the corner of his eye wouldn't be there, and he'd likely be in Wayne Manor. “ Or we don't have to eat. I'm fine with whatever. ”

there was a moment of hesitation when she sat up in bed, one that left her hanging her legs over the side waiting for her own room to come into focus‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎––‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎but it never did.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎his shirt on her shoulders, hanging loosely off, sheets‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎&‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎furniture‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎&‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎floors that aren't hers, all of it shocked her system when she awoke, although not in a bad way.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎standing in the kitchen, she tries to muffle her smile, distracting herself by brushing her fingers through small knots in her hair.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎yeah, coffee's great.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎she stands awkwardly at just enough of a distance‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎(awkward rarely, if ever, being a word used to describe juliette king),‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎&‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎for a moment she feels like she did when she was just a girl, only a girl...‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎thanks for letting me borrow this.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎there's a soft tuck of her chin down to her chest, signaling to the fabric barely touching her skin, as her fingers now move to tie her hair down into a loose braid:‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎anything to keep her fingers moving, herself distracted.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎no cream, by the way.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎i'll take it black, thanks.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"

[eueclid]

He doesn't quite know when his feelings switched like this, but what he does know is that they did. Maybe it was that night in her kitchen, where he was so weak that he nearly collapsed to the floor, and she stitched him up with a gentleness he'd never felt before, even if she wouldn't admit that she treated him gently. He knows it's a bad idea, just like she said and he said before her, but that doesn't stop Jason from watching Crossfire carefully shed her identity, every step meticulous and graceful.

And then, he's left with Juliette. As she finishes, he pulls his own identity away — Red Hood becoming Jason, though it takes less work to do so. His mask hollow in his hands as he takes a step closer, looking down at her as a genuine smile forms on his lips. This is a bad idea, he thinks, continuing to close the gap between them until there's virtually no space between them. “ Maybe I've had a change of heart since you saw me last. ” He murmurs, hands clasping innocently behind his back. “ Maybe I'm a very rational person now. ” Jason's voice is low, lips pulled into an amused smile as he stares down at Juliette through his eyelashes, watching and waiting.

❛ seeing you tonight, it's a bad idea, right? ❜ jj (jason juliette)

"it's always a bad idea, you already know that."‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎there's a twitch upwards in the corner of her lip, a smile that threatens to crack the aura that comes with the mask adorning her eyes.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎juliette begins to sneak into the moment, and lucky for her...‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎she slips her gloves off her fingers, and next comes very facade from her eyes‎:‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎stripping one skin to step into another––‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"don't you?"‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎her brown eyes flick right over, but have to turn back just as quick, slowly becoming a dead giveaway for the tiptoeing line between playing the game of the night to playing the role of the king.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎with each passing second, her cloak seems to fade and a smile‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎(however small and muffled)‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ actually crawls onto her features.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎both juliette and crossfire act as walking selfish creatures, and for the night:‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎crossfire's work is done.

"when have you ever cared if something is a bad idea?"‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎again, her eyes turn over and back, and in one smooth motion she pulls her hair from its tie, and as it falls, juliette is finally freed.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎perhaps its @eueclid's vice, and hers too, every bad idea feeling like a tempting ask rather an a full-stop no‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎(be that the difference between them and the caped crusader).‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"hm?"

*‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎guts prompts.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎/‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎accepting.

[eueclid]

“ There is, actually. Alfred has it — and I have the next few hours booked out. ” There isn't one — but if it'll get him alone, even just for a few minutes, he'll try it. Jason watches Juliette sit against the wall, and he takes it as his cue to look at his pistol again. He'd master this stupid kickback before leaving. He couldn't go out on the street like this, swearing at his guns and being hurt by the recoil.

He sighs, looking back towards Juliette, watching her messing with her bow. He smirks, shaking his head slightly as he aims the other pistol. “ Does dear old dad know you're fucking around with it? Bet he doesn't, 'cause he doesn't know I'm fucking around with my shit too. ” He inhales, not bothering to check his aim this time. He knows he'll hit the center — it's that damn kickback he's worried about. He shoots, and . . .

“ Damn it! ” It still vibrates through his arm, though less than before. That's a plus! He should probably switch back to the old ones. No, he shouldn't. These pack a hell of a punch, he just needs to get used to it. With a growl, he picks up the other one, and starts firing them, multiple times. When he stops, he looks forward, squinting at the target and smiling once he sees one perfect hole, slightly larger than a typical bullet hole. Damn, I'm good. He thinks, holstering one and looking at the other, making sure the safety is on before he stares down the barrel. “ I gotta clean this and do some work. Your turn. ”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎she has a way of being quiet that approaches the veils of in-human‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ––‎silent observer sat in the corner of parties, soaking in the drunkenness of all the rich old money around her‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎(it smelled of liquor and roses, of tobacco and chanel).‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎each breath comes with a steady absolute nothingness, a true delicate nature like that of her finger tips as they rest upon the string of a bow.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎while it is a skill that comes in handy on rooftops or in her home, it also allows her an entrance such as this one:‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎shoulders pressed upon the frame of a door, watching with narrowed gaze‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎(half a mind to just step into the room without saying a word‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎––but when weapons are involved, she has to know better).

" i'm sorry, is there a spreadsheet we're meant to fill out to reserve time? "‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎her tone falls on the edge of flat, still with a hint of sarcasm.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎in other spaces, she holds a lot more personality in each word, in other spaces, the flick of her tongue comes with purpose at each syllable:‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎to seduce, to confuse, to draw people into the facade‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎––what else is a daughter for?‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎but here‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎...‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎here there seems to be a bit more honesty to them.

" i heard you curse out a pistol. "‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎she lowers herself against the wall, sat where she's used to:‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎the corner.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎a compound bow in her lap, with an allen wrench in her right hand, ‎there's no eye-contact given to the other as she starts working on her own weapon of choice‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎(increasing the draw weight ever so slightly, against the batman's better knowledge).‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎" i'll use it when you're done. "