#as friends not just employees

[mrdrhenwardhykle]

“Catch of the day”

I had a vision

[wlwanakin]

at the end of the day when it comes to padmé i think it’s really important to remember that her closest friends are literally her employees. her only other friends are her coworkers. her closest friend for years was a girl she met at 14 whose job it was to pretend to be her and potentially die about it. another friend with the same job died in her arms while pretending to be her. she does not have friends outside of her squad of employees who pretend to be her and sometimes die about it and then her politician coworkers. too many of you are way too surprised that this woman is not normal about love or relationships or her own self considering all this

[infinitelystrangemachinex]

massages forehead So Ambessa hid Mel away because she was a weapon in the literal sense, a mage. But Ambessa came to Piltover for Hextech? And Ambessa had nothing to say to Mel about her powers having visibly awakened? Even when Mel offered to go with Ambessa, giving her the ultimate opportunity to make Mel a weapon for real? And Ambessa made no attempt to find or retrieve Mel - not just her daughter and the remnants of the family Ambessa professes to love, but also her ultimate weapon - when she disappeared? And Ambessa trusted Singed and Viktor on their home turf - neither of them hiding how insane and self-serving they are with every reason to take over Ambessa's soldiers or just blatantly turn on her as soon as it benefits them - more than she trusted Mel? While Caitlyn (and by extension Piltover) was visibly and clearly falling away from Ambessa's teachings before Ambessa's eyes? (as if getting rid of certain people allows piltover to get rid of fascism but we won't get into All That)

Not only do I struggle to be hyped for Mel's powers beyond how amazing and beautiful she looks, but I can't help but feel like Mel is somehow less powerful in season 2 than she was in season 1, and not in an interesting way. As if Mel's ability to bend all of Piltover politics and economics to her will in season 1 now means nothing in season 2? You can argue that Jinx's attack led directly to Mel losing ground in Piltover - because I expected Mel to have to claw back that power without being able to rely on people who are too easily seduced by Ambessa and authoritarianism, and she would have to get creative to go toe to toe with her mother. I expected pushback to her mage identity that she would have to navigate. But instead this went either unwritten, or was ignored or discarded. Instead Mel is removed from the main plot, cutting her off from what made her the most interesting - only for all of Mel's very real talents, her very real powers and abilities, to be not only translated but REPLACED with magical powers she doesn't know how to control, and by the finale, those magic powers are the only powers that are considered real. Mel takes a backseat to Piltover's governing and decisions, a backseat to Jayce of all people who was not only new to politics mere months ago but made poor governing, strategic, and diplomatic decisions when he had that power. In season 1 Mel stayed off the "throne" but she did pull its strings one way or the other, and she makes no attempt at this in season 2

In my least generous suspicions, Mel was gentled and quieted to capitulate to an agenda for other characters who had to be correct and heroic - or wrong and villainous - no matter what the leadup narrative said, given her powers to help sell the game and set up future shows, and was effectively ejected from the Arcane story with faceless soldiers and a role she doesn't want because she was inconvenient there

[miscellaneousrenaissant]

Thinking about how Chilchuck and Laios started adventuring at around the same relative time in their lives

There are a bunch of similarities to their backstories - leaving home at a young age (14, 12), starting careers in exploring dungeons as young adults (19, 22), developing a complex about the first monster that killed them (Mimics, Living Armor), getting scammed or taken advantage of by other adventurers (succubus-hunting party, gold-peelers) - that they give me "past and future" vibes

Chilchuck is the older mentor to the less-experienced Laios. He joined Laios' party when Laios had only been exploring the dungeon for a year, and Chilchuck regularly gives advice based on his own 10 years of experience in an effort to support Laios as leader. There are several occasions of Chilchuck either teaching or wishing Laios would learn something in particular that he thinks would help with the job

Laios is a reflection of Chilchuck's past from when he was just starting out as a naive adventurer, while Chilchuck is an example of the future that Laios is striving towards as a seasoned dungeon explorer and leader

But also, they can represent missed opportunities and paths not taken for each other

An example for Chilchuck is that he isn't treated with the same respect as a tall-man because he is a half-foot. He can lead a union of half-foots, but leading a party of other races, many of whom would infantilize him, is unlikely. There are limitations to what he can do (physically and socially) compared to Laios simply because of how each were born, and it's partly why he's so hard on Laios to make him a good leader and not waste the opportunities afforded to him

Meanwhile as an example for Laios, who left his family and fiancée behind when going out on his own at 12 years old, who wasn't shocked that Chilchuck became a father at 13, and who even mentioned that some tall-men get married at 13, too...

If Laios had never left home, would he, at 13, have married someone from his childhood and also become a father of three?

[pirincho]

Ordinary

[dekariosclan]

Tav and husband Tav are milling around the shops. Tav sees something that they want but needs assistance from a sales rep. Unfortunately, the sales rep is a gum-chewing, dead eyed teenager who is rude AF and absolutely gives no shits about their job (you know the type). Sales rep ignores Tav twice before sassing them and being generally unhelpful.

How would husband Gale respond?

*Gale, angrily leaning over the order counter at the Baldur’s Gate McDonald’s, finger raised, nostrils flared*

Gale: Young man! Look here! (gestures at the sad excuse for a burger sitting on the counter in front of them) I’ll have you know we’ve dined on fish heads AND stale bread that far surpasses the utter slop my beloved has been served today—which, I might add, happened not once, not twice, but thrice—

Crappy Worker: *shrugs* What’s wrong with it?

Gale: Well! As my dearest has politely tried to inform you already: Cold meat; wet bread; extra mayonnaise when we CLEARLY asked for none, and, to add insult to injury, the most unappetizing topping of them all: TWO body hairs of very questionable origin—

Crappy Worker: *shrugs again* So?

Gale: ‘So??’ (gestures furiously at Ronald McDonald poster on wall) How befitting that your patron is a clown, because this entire establishment is rife with clownery—

Tav *hiding a smile*: Love, it’s okay! We’ll go somewhere else.

Gale *indignantly, over his shoulder as Tav leads him out the door*: And you can tell Sir Ronald or Lord McDonald or whatever his moniker is that he has lost our good will, and henceforth we shall ONLY be dining at the Burger Monarch down the road—

Tav: (whispers into Gale’s ear)

Gale: At the BURGER KING down the road—

[spaghetticat3899]

When you absolutely despise something a lot of people like, and no matter what way you look at it you cannot see the appeal, but you know you can’t talk about it in public or else you’ll get dogpiled to hell and back, so you just kinda sit there frothing at the mouth like this

[cent-scratchnsniff]

doodle i made when talking about lobcorp to people. i dont think they see me the same anymore after playing lobcorp and rambling about it

[silverware-is-interesting]

i walked past this store in a mall today called fossil that had like. watches n jewlery n purses or something and i thought of. fossil objectified so i drew that.

idk how this kinda looks decent tbh this is only like my 3rd time drawing them. like, its not great, but you can tell it's her, so, i call that pretty good :P

[hijinxinprogress]

Civilian Gothamites realizing they can get vengeance through Sword!Robin

Gothamites figuring out if they happen to mention a rogue treating animals poorly within hearing range of sword!Robin that rogue will be in custody with at least four fractures and a concussion and Damian being completely aware that like 63% of these people are lying but it’s the only way he can get experience with the nonlethal takedowns he’s experimenting with bc everyone keeps complaining about how he treats his opponents and allies 

Like he’s guiding a civilian to safety and they mention that “this would be the worst thing to happen to me today if riddler didn’t stab my fucking cat” and this civilian does not own a cat but they did own a car that was just paid off but riddler fucking crushed it with a stupid ass hot air balloon that’s shaped like a fucking question mark and Damian is aware of this bc he was the one that verified the insurance claim (but he’s been looking for a reason to punch Nygma in the throat since his last Arkham escape when he called Damian a moron)

And he also knows that if he plays along with it and says ‘as if I’d let that gaudy and tactless imbecile get away with committing such atrocities’ when prompted that he’ll get away with barely a slap on the wrist like he gets three half hearted but long lectures he’s not going to listen to and an online sensitivity training seminar he goads Tim into completing (Damian and Tim 100% try to trick each other into doing work they don’t want to do and full heartedly believe the other has no idea what they’re doing)

Bruce’s tendency for finding small crashouts at risk of becoming future rogues in Gotham and deciding they need love & supervision but what actually happens bc he’s so fucking awkward is they get almost the same amount of supervision just with like an hour of intense helicopter parenting a week but honestly besides that they just have more money and resources to do fuck shit

Tim 🤝🏾 Damian: using the manipulation tactics they learned from their mothers then later improved on with help from an assassin cult and bat/cape interrogation questioning techniques on the homies

[sergle]

I love to hear what people say about Youtube Drama* but it's SO tacky when it gets so offbase that the posts people make start to be about completely off topic infighting within the Watcher fanbase

[moeblob]

OC

[destielmemenews]

source 1

source 2

source 3

[paper-possum-party-pal]

Guess Who?

It’s Timekeeper!!!

Timekeeper started off as an AI The Narrator made to keep track of settings and time after a failed attempt to create a protagonist. A form was built, but was scrapped. When TK gained sentience, he didn’t have the power to do much except mess with the clock and settings. She slowly expanded her power though through the powerful desire to fuck with The Narrator. They weren’t aware of much going on outside of their space until connecting with the computers of the parable where they became aware of Stanley. Xe gains access to the time and space between resets where Xe starts interacting with Stanley and the become partners in crime.

Stanley and TK are great buddies and their favorite activity is messing with The Narrator, made funnier by the fact The Narrator has no clue TK is even there. He does eventually find out though once TK manages to pull its scrapped form out of recycling and fix it and gets caught interacting with Stanley. Stanley and TK also often talk about their false memories and what kinds of lives they would lead in the real world. TK doesn’t really care if he gets to experience the real world, but does admit that it might be fun, and new things means new ideas means new ways to prank The Narrator.

The Narrator and TK have more of a rivalry, with TK thinking The Narrator as a stuck up buzzkill who puts too much value in perfection and meaning, while The Narrator thinks TK is annoying, irresponsible, and irreverent. They aren’t really friends, but they’re not enemies either, and will reluctantly admit when the other may have a point. They’re sort of like roommates and maybe siblings.

TK doesn’t interact with The Curator or Mariella as much, but they’re friends. TK knows how and when to bring the fun to them and they both appreciate it. They all hold more of a sibling dynamic. They all have tea together, chat, and play fight, especially TK and Mariella. The Curator is great at reigning in TK, which can be frustrating when a certain someone starts whining about someone else messing with his game.

More human form

It’s funny to me how many of us, at least initially (and even a little bit now), had a similar idea of how Timekeeper would look with a physical form. I found myself having a lot of difficulty deciding what I wanted them to look like exactly since there’s so many creative designs people have come up with. I was thinking of trying to design a very non-human form for it. One thing that does slightly bother me is that I have that last character for the proctor lineup that is very similar looking, but I’m hoping it’s just different enough so it doesn’t feel too much like I’m copy pasting the same character.

With white background

[bruhstation]

who here loves divorce? I do. here's captain star and captain zero: two people who can't help but drag other unwilling people into their huge mess! including the youth. can't forget the youth

(bit of ramble in the tags)

[catpriciousmarjara]

DP X DC

Ao3

The Job Offer

"And why not you?", said the man. "You're intelligent, skilled, and adaptable. Most importantly, you're entertaining. That last part becomes very important when dealing with my kind".

A ring glinted in the dim light as he gestured with his hands. "Plus, there wouldn't be any danger in the first place! Our lot tend to stick to the Rules, you see? And not harming the messenger is most certainly a Rule".

A sip of coffee. Eyes filling with mirth.

"In the off chance that someone did take offence, all you have to do is amuse them for a while, and as I said, you're very good at that. But don't worry, they won't take offence".

Dick Grayson, attention still half focused on the vicious black claws on the man's hand, had to ask, "And why won't they?"

The man's pleasant smile didn't falter. But it did slowly morph into a grin with way too many teeth to be normal. The young vigilante had to suppress a shudder.

When the man?it spoke, the voice resonated. "Because you'll be one of mine. And they won't dare touch what's mine".

The teeth gleamed.

And just as abruptly as it shifted, the air changed, the pressure lifted, and the man was smiling once more.

Dick was left off-footed and tightly clutching the arms of his chair, his breath fogging in the still frigid air. He hadn’t even noticed the temperature dropping.

He looked at the man nonchalantly sitting across from him as if he hadn't just taken years off of Dick's life. The vigilante was not one to scare easily. Yet, mere moments ago, Dick had felt a fear so primal that it was maddening. It was not the kind of fear a human being could evoke, no matter how frightening their actions may be. Dick had seen the worst of Gotham, and Gotham was a cesspit on a good day. But he hadn't ever felt like this before today. If there was ever a question about the humanity of his companion before...well it was answered now.

To be honest, he couldn't quite recall how he got here in the first place. Everything was a blur.

No...not quite. His memories were alright, it's just that his mind couldn’t grasp them. 

And every second in this...space, had felt muted. As though he was lying beneath several layers of sheer fabric; he could somewhat feel things, see things, but his senses were muffled.

The spike of fear from before wasn't him breaking through as much as he was allowed to break through, and now he was safely back beneath the dampening cloud once more. It was almost comforting.

Dangerous.

Dick only remembered what had happened in bits and pieces. Being fired from Robin, the legacy he had forged for himself, named after his mother's love, and garbed in Grayson colours.

Being angry and distraught. Not knowing what to do.

It had taken him weeks to reorient himself. A month to gather his composure.

He vaguely recollected a cafe in Jump City. He had been sitting in a booth, contemplating his options...

Someone had sat right across from him, right?

He had looked up…

“Hello. May I sit here?”

“...Sure. Go ahead.”

“Daniel Nightingale.”

“...Richard Grayson.”

" I know. You shouldn’t give out your name so freely by the way. Also, could I have a bit of your time?"

"Um...yeah, sure?"

“Perfect!”

And the next thing he knew, he was Here.

Wherever here was.

(Why had he said yes then? He would never have done that normally.)

At first his mind had been adamant in believing that here was the very same cafe he had been sitting in. But Dick wasn't trained by the man known as the World's Greatest Detective for nothing. However, it had taken him an embarrassing few moments to start noticing the abnormalities.

For one thing, he had been sitting in a booth in a cafe, not at an ornate wooden table, much like the one in Bruce's home office. The only thing the cafe table and this one had in common was that they were both rectangular.

Secondly, their table was covered by a veil. A huge gauzy one hanging from above. But try as he might he couldn't see where it was hanging from, just a yawning darkness.

Finally, he could see shadows moving beyond the veil, and the more he looked, the more bizarre they became. And at one point, the shadows lost all pretence of humanity. They weren't even humanoid, let alone human.

He definitely wasn't in Jump City anymore.

It had taken him even longer to notice the man sitting across him. That he hadn’t left this Daniel Nightingale behind.

Wispy white hair.

"Ah! You noticed so quickly. You really are the perfect fit for the job!"

Green. green eyes.

"Apologies for the veiling. It's necessary however.., some things are not just meant for mortal eyes, you see. Without it, you might just go insane! We wouldn't want that now would we?"

Unnaturally pale skin.

"Enough dillydallying! But first, introductions. You may call me either Daniel or Nightingale. By what name would you prefer to be called?”

Something about that question made the ex-Robin’s hindbrain pay attention. The wording of it, the tone…

You shouldn’t give out your name so freely by the way.

Could I have a bit of your time?

Something had felt incredibly off, so he had gone ahead and given one of the alternate names he had been thinking of taking up now that Robin was over.

“You may call me Nightjar.”

Nightingale had looked incredibly pleased then. And a bit smug too.

“Let me cut to the chase then Nightjar. I’m here to offer you a job. You’re a perfect fit for the role. We offer excellent compensation, and flexible work hours. Considering you’re out of work now that you’ve been fired from Robin, I believe my offer would be interesting for you.”

For some reason, perhaps because of all the strange things that happened, the fact that Nightingale seemed to know his alter ego hadn’t surprised Dick. Instead of asking how he came to know about this particular information, including the fact that he got fired, he decided to keep the conversation rolling on this supposed job offer. He had an inkling that he won’t get anywhere even if he asked, so might as well mine some information by making the other man talk.

“What kind of job is it? And what exactly would be included in the compensation?”

In response the man had snapped his fingers, and produced a file out of nowhere. He opened it, turned it around and slid it across the table. Dick started. Nightingale made a go ahead gesture, a smile on his lips once more. Dick gingerly dragged it a bit closer, and took a look.

“As you can see Nightjar, the position being offered is that of a courier. Due to many reasons, delivery across the realms is a cumbersome affair, not the least due to political complications. The best system to lay down in this situation was to have an impartial party be in charge of the work. You can say that I am a representative of the aforementioned impartial party that took over the role. If you would turn a page over-

Dick had dutifully turned the page.

-you’d see that we offer great compensation. In addition to your salary, you’ll receive health insurance, life insurance, death insurance, medical insurance, dental, vision care insurance, paid vacation time, overtime pay, paid time-off, flexible time-off, paid medical leave, free medical care, maternity leave, paternity leave, all other forms of parental leave, a good retirement package, loan assistance, wellness programmes, child care assistance, regular bonuses, promotions, raises, accommodation, a provident fund, and a whole host of other benefits that are clearly listed on the page. And of course at the end right there is our offered starting salary, which is highly negotiable up to the amount listed right below it. Please take as much time as you need to read through them.”

To say Dick had been overwhelmed was an understatement. He hadn’t thought that this was going to be an actual, honest to God job offer. If anything he just thought the entire job thing was an excuse or prelude to something much worse. But as he parsed through the file, getting increasingly bewildered as the man rattled on, he had to admit that this really looked like a weird recruitment effort. And then his eyes had fallen on the salary figure, and the amount to which it could be negotiated upwards, and he froze. Because even for the ex-ward of a billionaire, it was a ludicrous number. He couldn’t even accurately count the zeros on the thing. Even Wayne Enterprises wouldn't be able to match a deal like this. 

At that thought Dick had felt a pang of pain as he remembered Bruce still hadn’t called him, or even made an attempt at apologising. There were no texts, no missives. Just radio silence. The pain in his chest increased and Dick had felt the ever returning feeling of being unmoored. He pushed those feelings to the furthest corners of his mind. He had to focus now.

Feeling marginally calmer, he had taken a deep breath and closed the file. He looked up at Nightingale who had been watching him avidly over the rim of a coffee cup which definitely wasn’t there before, and asked the most pertinent question.

“Why me?”

And now they are here.

Dick scoffed at the white haired being’s answer. Oh he didn’t doubt that it was the truth. By now he had somehow come to an understanding of how this worked. It was fae rules. Meaning he had to watch his mouth. Similarly Nightingale won’t lie, but he can certainly obfuscate.After all withholding information wasn’t technically a lie, especially if it was masked with a half-truth. In other words, Nightingale hadn’t lied, but that wasn’t all there is to it. And Dick wasn’t going to let it slide. 

“How am I supposed to believe you to be a good employer if you’re already lying?”, he asked outright. You know, like a reckless fool.

Nightingale’s pleasant smile instantly froze, and then it gained an edge. A sharp, lethal edge.

“I don’t lie”, the man said, a cold cadence to his voice.

Dick could feel the figurative whetted blade on his throat, but he pressed forward. This was the first time he had taken blood in this fiasco and he wasn’t going to concede just like that.

“Lying by omission, is still lying.”

Nightingale’s entire mien darkened, and frost spread across the table. Dick didn’t back off. 

There was silence. Suffocating silence. And then the vergals receded and Nightingale sat back with a satisfied air. Dick blinked in surprise.

“Good. You didn’t cower.”

Dick sat back on his own chair, his breath fogging in the still cold air. “Was that a test?”

Nightingale took another sip of his coffee. Was it even coffee? It looked like coffee, but who knows what anything is in this bizarre space. Certainly not Dick.

“It was a test. The position of a courier in this part of existence requires mettle, and a strong mind. You would be dealing with beings ranging from the divine to the demonic. I’m sure you know they are a stubborn lot. You’ll have to stand up to them often. Plus you would be representing Us. We can’t have an unprincipled, craven fool take the job can we now? So I had to test you. Congratulations! You passed with flying colours.”

Dick glared at the man. “I still haven’t agreed to anything. And you still haven’t told me why I was chosen.” 

Nightingale chuckled. It was an unnatural, but pleasant sound. “Aah you caught that. Very well then.”

He clasped his hands together and put them on the table, bringing Dick’s attention to the black, razor sharp claws once again, as well as to the extremely ominous ring he wore on his left hand’s little finger.

“You were chosen because you are a multiversal constant. This job requires much interdimensional, interuniversal travel, and a multiversal constant is ideal for the role. And before you ask, a multiversal constant is essentially someone whose soul acts as a consistent axis across worlds through indelible aspects of their existence. They are rare, and their axial quality makes multiversal travel easy for them.”

The white haired entity’s eyes shone in the dim light. “You are a multiversal constant Nightjar. Centred around your potential, And also, I know you will agree to do the job. So I’m not worried.”

Even as he struggled to process what was just revealed, Dick found the energy to scowl at the impishly grinning man. “And how would you know? What’s in it for me? All I’m seeing is a job, the benefits of which, doesn’t make up for how dangerous it is.”

“But you will accept it nonetheless”, replied Nightingale with an amused air. “Think about it. You’ve been fired from Robin but still intend to continue being a vigilante, and vigilantism is expensive work. Now that you don’t have the Wayne coffers to pull from, you would have to find alternate means to acquire resources. You’re brilliant and I have no doubt you will find those resources and do spectacularly under your new mantle. But that would take time. And calling in favours that could either be used somewhere else, or make you indebted to someone. The salary this job provides you will allow you to finance your quest for justice, and still have plenty leftover. Not to mention the other benefits, such as the free medical care provided by Us, people who will never question your injuries the way a normal hospital might, or put your civilian identity at risk like a back alley doctor.”

Nightingale’s verdant eyes stared a hole through Dick as he spoke. “You wanted to get out of Batman’s shadow. This is your chance, Nightjar.”

The young vigilante had to give it to Nightingale. The man sure knew how to pitch an offer. He found himself agreeing to most of what Nightingale said, especially the finances part but he still wasn’t going to agree to a job that would put him in the crosshairs of gods and demons. That was just monumentally stupid.

“You make good points”, Dick said as he slid the file sitting idle on his side to Nightingale. “But I’m still not gonna agree.”

Nightingale slid the file back over to him without missing a bit.

“If I thought you were the type to easily capitulate I wouldn’t have approached you in the first place,” the man said, not a single sign of ire at Dick’s repeated refusal in his voice. In fact he seemed rather glad Dick was being difficult.

“You want to know more about being a multiversal constant correct? That is not the kind of information you’ll find lying around on earth.”

A pitch black claw scraped across the table, but there was no noise, and the deep scratch left behind instantly stitched itself back together, the tabletop pristine once more.

“By now you must have a rudimentary idea of the world you are being invited into. You would not have called yourself Nightjar otherwise. You also know that this is not a world Batman has access to.”

The man pointed opened his right palm, still resting on the table, and brilliant emerald fire blazed to life on it. Something in Dick’s lizard brain told him this fire ran cold rather than hot.

“Magic and everything associated with it is not something the Dark Knight can handle by his usual methods. And magic is just one of the aspects of our Realm. An infinite more mysteries keep it company. This world is yours for the taking. No mortal would be able to access what you can and you would be able to help so many people.”

Blue eyes met green.

“This will set you apart from Batman once and for all. An identity that no one can take away from you at their whim. Just think of this as your day job, as being a CEO is for Bruce Wayne.”

Nightingale clasped one of Dick’s hands resting on the table and transferred the fire over to it. Dick stared as the flame danced merrily in his palm. It really was cold. By the time he had his wits about him, the fire had vanished. Nightingale had seemingly finished his coffee, as the cup was nowhere to be seen. 

Dick glanced at the white haired man who watched him calmly. Then he took the file and started reading through it. If he was going to take this job, he was going to make sure to read the fine print. Out of the corner of his eye, he could spy Nightingale’s gleaming, triumphant smile. Dick couldn’t help but feel annoyed. 

He didn’t know how much time it took for him to read the file completely. Time ran strangely in this space. What he did know was there was an ornate, silver pen right next to him, which definitely wasn’t there before. He had to roll his eyes at Nightingale's antics. 

Nonetheless he uncapped it, admiring the craftsmanship for a moment, and signed on the dotted line in his Alfred approved best cursive, bells, whistles, hoops and all. 

Nothing happened. Dick felt kinda disappointed. He had thought signing a magical contract with a possible fae creature would be a little less anti-climactic. Across from him, Nightingale chuckled as if he could read his mind. Could he?

He slid the file over once more, this time for last. Nightintingale just skimmed through before sliding over an envelope. 

“Your appointment letter”.

“You had that ready?”

“Of course.”

Dick snorted inelegantly at that. Obviously the man had foreseen how this would go. That should make him more wary than what he was feeling, but just as he had known the fire was cold before, he knew Nightingale wouldn’t harm him. Bruce would call him an idiot for this kind of illogical thinking, but Bruce wasn’t here now was he?

He was about to shove another medley of complicated emotions down, when Nightingale reached over and viciously ran a claw down his right arm. Blood spurted in a gruesome display and Dick scrambled back, chair falling down, and his body hitting the surprisingly sturdy veil.

“What was that about?”, he shouted as he clutched his bleeding arm to his chest. Just when he had thought the man didn’t mean him any harm…

Nightingale had the audacity to look nonplussed. He simply brought his palms up as if to show he meant no harm, but it was a moot point when one of his claws was dripping with Dick’s blood.

“Just testing something”, the man said calmly.

“Testing what?’, Dick asked angry and confused.

In response, Nightingale simply pointed to his arm.

“What? Testing whether your claws could tear me apar-”

He stopped short. There, before his eyes, the flesh of his arm was knitting itself together. In mere moments, the wound was gone, not even a scar where it should be. Dick was reminded of the table from before. What just happened?

“What did you do to me?”, he asked, voice soft, and emotionless. 

“Don’t worry. It's your compensation. Part of your medical aid.”

He waved his hand, and the blood vanished. “Do sit down, Nightjar. Lets order something to eat.”

Robotically Dick walked to the table once more. The upturned chair was somehow rightened, already pulled out as if waiting for him.

“That was a healing factor”, he said rather than asked.

Nightingale nodded unbothered. “Yes, you’ll be needing that in your line of work.”

The veil opened and admitted a two-headed woman in, carrying trays of food in her four arms.

When she left, Nightingale eagerly took up his cutlery, looking excitedly at what looked like a luminescent crepe. He glanced at a shell-shocked Dick and frowned.

“Please eat. It's safe to consume, now that you’re one of us. If you’re worrying about your job, don’t. You have been assigned an excellent mentor in Harker. The White Grim will train you well.”

With that, he dug in, clearly enjoying his glowing crepe.

Dick just stared at the man, at his no longer injured arm, and sighed. Might as well eat. He hadn’t gotten to eat anything at the cafe and was beginning to feel hungry.

He scooped a spoonful from what seemed like an overly fancy bowl of cereal.

One of them huh?

He took a bite.