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i wanna make a bruce blog but im torn between spitefully making him dark skinned and getting no interactions and making him white passing and getting at least some interactions

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i forgot how gd hard it was to network in this community OTL oof

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BYF || About

“What is a Talon?” 

“Talons execute the will of the Court.” 

“So you’re just a pawn to the Court?” 

“As much as an owl is to its own claw, I suppose.” 

FearToxinPerfume || Off Hiatus

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chasers tend to end up with more holes than they originally had.   jason thinks he makes his point very clearly   ,   when he leaves   ,   that he doesn’t want to be followed.   dick’s stopped sending them   ,   and jason’s stopped sending them back with extra stab wounds than they usually sport.   he’s never gone for very long   ,   not anymore   ,   not for a long time   ,   so it isn’t an issue now.   dick will pout while he’s gone   ,   but when he comes back it’s fine.   he easily makes up for his absences promptly.

“   thank you   ,   “   he hums   ,   preening at the little compliment for his work   ,   a small grin curling at his lips as he listens to him.   “   a decent job?   wow.   okay.   i go away for three weeks and you welcome me home by being mean to me.   you’re the worst.   “   he scoffs   ,   shaking his head slightly.   six weeks in total since he’d last seen him   ,   but it’s nothing.   “   they’re lucky i didn’t hang them from the steeple of any of the churches around here.   “   the last sentence lacks the usual playful bite.   he’s serious   ,   on that one.   he glances up   ,   notes the look on dick’s face   ,   and chuckles softly.

“   so i should be thanking you for leaving them alone?   “   he asks   ,   “   i like the look on their faces when they realise what’s happenin’.   “   it’s always funny.   he looks so different now to when he was eleven years old and living on the streets.   

he does pout this time   ,   shaking his head slightly.   “   clearly not   ,   dickie.   if i did   ,   i’d be in a much better mood than i currently am.   “   he hums   ,   shrugging his shoulders slightly.   he laughs   ,   taking a puff on his cigarette   ,   exhaling it after a moment or so.   “   dessert sounds fun.   “   his gaze is back onto the bodies below him   ,   smirking as he stands up   ,   rolling his shoulders.   “   didya miss me?   “   

Daddy dearest is definitely going to have a lot to say about this one. Doesn't he always. Dick laughs. "Oh, I know, I'm terrible," he agrees playfully. "But, you have to admit, there just would have been something so morbidly poetic about involving steeples. You shouldn't hold yourself back so much." Admittedly, even now, Jason is unpredictable. Dick really couldn't say why he chose these men now. He just doesn't bother himself with Jason's troubles unless he asks.

"I wouldn't go that far," he assures. "It's good enough for me to see you having a good time." And see him covered in blood, of course. Six weeks, almost two months, is longer than he thinks.

He'll make sure Bruce sees this before he has someone clean it up. A little exposing of their 'habits' and 'preferences' and no one's going to care too much about their brutal deaths. No one important.

"You're in a bad mood?" Dick replies curiously, making a pointy little frown at the bodies. "And here I thought you were saving them as a treat." He flicks his own cigarette off into the dark of Gotham and grins up to Jason as he stands.

"If I said I missed you, would you hold it against me?"

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Dick has learned not to chase Jason. Or, rather, not to send anyone to chase him. It's a good thing his talons are so undying. Still, when Jason decides to pop off for a bit now and again, Dick just has to resign himself to one less companion around to keep him company. Jason always comes back to Gotham, it's in his blood- and his blood is in it. Dick just has to be patient.

And patience pays off.

"It is a beautiful sight," Dick agrees with a hum as he takes the offered cigarette. "I guess you did a decent job with the bodies, as well. Seems like a waste of skill to put to them but, mm, restless hands, sí." He pulls his lighter from his pocket, standing besides Jason as he takes in the truly lovely handiwork. Needless to say, he's interested in other things. He smiles at Jason, the accenting gold in his mouth almost as shiny as his teeth.

"Now Jason," he says, exhaling smoke. "You know I'd never let anyone touch your dirty work. You always do your best work when you're angry. So passionate.

"Welcome home, Jason. I take it you haven't found whatever it is you're looking for when you take your little trips yet? You look- well rested. Dinner?" He glances over the bodies again and huffs a laugh. "Or should I offer dessert?"

          jason’s barely been back in gotham for a couple of weeks.   the city’s too stifling   ,   it makes him gag and choke under the pressure of the smog that constantly hangs over it   ,   bruce’s expectations   ,   his life as a whole.   he likes to disappear every so often   ,   not announce his return immediately and do something highly illegal and messy to let everyone know he’s back   ,   which is exactly what he’s in the middle of doing.   personally   ,   he thinks the family will love it.           well.   if not the whole family   ,   he knows dick will.   he snorts a little when he looks at his handiwork   ,   stood on the rooftop overlooking the scene.   rich old men of standing   ,   ones they’d probably seen around at galas before   ,   ones jason knew intimately from his time on the streets   ,   all hung up and drawn out and bleeding on the ground.   to anyone that knew jason   ,   they’d know it was him.   for the cops and anyone else   ,   they’ll just assume a band of street workers ganged up and did it.   he crouches down on the rooftop   ,   lighting a cigarette and taking a drag from it   ,   holding it between two fingers of his blood soaked gloves.             minutes.   it took minutes.   footsteps behind him   ,   silent to anyone who didn’t know them.   “   come to take a look   ???   “   he asks   ,   still looking down at the mess down there.   “   i think it might just be my best work yet   ,   honestly.   “   he holds out the cigarette   ,   just in case he cares to partake.   “   i fucked off for three weeks and when i get back   ,   these guys still aren’t dead.   “   he almost   ,   very much almost pouts at that.   it had been fun to take care of them himself   ,   but they really should’ve been taken care of years ago.

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Dick hates dealing with the al Ghuls, plain and simple. He's made it clear that the Court, and Talon especially, are very dangerous to cross but the al Ghuls have a habit of thinking things like that don't apply to them. Stepping foot on Infinity Island really just makes him think how much he'd love to leave the place dripping in the blood of its occupants.

But business comes first.

The Lazarus Pit is very good for Court business so of course, the Court likes to keep their fingers on when it gets used- and their fingers come with talons. Dick prefers direct approaches now a days. He swipes a finger along a handrail as he walks straight for the heart of the island, making a disgusted face at the filth he picks up. He rubs his finger clean on a banner and adjusts his fur shawl so he doesn't accidentally brush it against anything.

"No welcoming party?" Dick calls. He knows they saw his approach. "Don't worry, I'll let myself in. Hopefully everyone's dressed." His biggest hope is finding Ra's in peril and having the opportunity to put him out of his misery once and for all.

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talon with late realised pathokinesis is the worst idea i super want to be doing right now

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(( ✌️ trying to get back into things. like this post if you want to plot some stuff or send me a message if you want to pick back up an old rp

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"I suppose, in a way, I should thank the al Ghuls," Dick comments in amusement. "They brought you back to me, after all." It could have been the two of them, training with the Court, planning, taking power; just like it was supposed to be. Now they've handed him a weapon, sharpened and ready to draw blood- done his job for him. Oh, he will thank them.

Initially, Dick assumes Bruce. That's where his mind is right now. But no, not yet- though perhaps they can take a little detour and pull some forgiveness out of Bruce's hide as well.

"Joker," Dick hums with a thoughtful nod. He laughs, stubbing the end of his cigarette out as well. "We can do that, little wing. We can kill Joker." And burn as much of this town as he wants until he feels better. It needs rebuilding, anyways. Truth be told, he had been saving Joker for a special occasion- Dick was too angry to give him a quick death. Now he's glad he waited, though disappointed his plans will go to waste.

"We can kill him," Dick says again, in amusement this time. "But do you want to, Jason? Or do you want to hunt him?"

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Dick gives him a few moments to process the information while he takes a cigarette from the box and pulls his lighter out from one of his pouches. Not exactly his brand but it’ll do. He nods slow and quiet. Even knowing Jason is alive, however that is, that familiar rage bubbles in him again. If he finds out Bruce knew about this, he’ll do a lot more than break one of his limbs. 

“I understand why you’d hate us, Jason,” Dick says softly, cheap tobacco sticking to his mouth like a film. “But if you’ll let me, I’d do anything to try to make it up to you. I can’t fix anything, I can’t make what happened better, but maybe I can help you get some closure. Like I said, things are different now, I’m different now, and I really do think it’s for the better.” He smiles. 

“Why did you come back to Gotham, little wing? Let me help you.” 

jason’s quiet as he processes everything that dick’s told him.  it’s a lot to take in.  he doesn’t know if bruce knew he was alive.  he thinks  ,  or hopes  ,  that someone might’ve at least gone to his grave every so often and had noticed the way someone  ,  himself  ,  had clawed their way out.  he would hope so  ,  but he isn’t aware that talia had gone back and covered his tracks.  he was supposed to be a gift to her beloved  ,  to his own adoptive father.  he doesn’t know that  ,  and maybe no one else does. “  i don’t  –  i hate him  ,  dick.  not all of you.  “  it was hard to explain  ,  and he had no intentions to try to.  “  i guess havin’ some help wouldn’t be too terrible.  “  he makes no sudden agreements to anything though  ,  just finishes his cigarette and stubs it out on the rooftop. “  i came back to kill him.  “  he won’t lie about it.  there’s no point.  “  i came back to burn this fuckin’ city to the ground  ,  with all of you inside it.  but he was the main target  ,  always has been.  since i came back  ,  woke up  ,  whatever  ,  it’s all i’ve thought about.  i guess getting thrown into a lazarus pit didn’t help on that train of thought  ,  but it’s what i came here to do.  “

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//break dances ive had zero dick muse find me @barry's blog 31millionmoments

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korben-fadir‌:

*** The hairs on the back of Korben’s neck stand on end in reaction to being touched. He attempts to disengage by pushing the intrusive hand off his shoulder and taking a couple steps back away from Dick. He feels the feverish heat rising up again, his hands clenched as though trying to keep himself from spontaneously combusting.

“No. You’re wrong,” the clone admits, his voice dropping into a more serious tone. “You can’t protect family by keeping them in…in vats. I would never want Tim, Conner, Thad, the people I care about be tucked away and kept frozen…forever. This is as abominable as resurrecting a loved one in the Pit. There’s always a price to pay. I’ll fight to my death to protect my family, but no, I’d rather let them find freedom in death than be slaves to immortality.”  

Korben shakes his head. “This is a mistake. I should have listened to Tim. I-I shouldn’t have come here." 

***

Dick keeps his calm when Korben moves away but just barely. He takes a step closer, following Korben's retreat.

"You've misunderstood," he assures calmly. "This isn't family, Korben. Cobb may be blood but he is not family. Zucco isn't family. Slade Wilson and Damian al Ghul aren't family. The man who ordered the hit on Tim's parents isn't family. I do not protect my family by giving them some false idea of life; I protect my family by finding the people who threaten their very pursuit of happiness and making sure they suffer." Dick steps closer still, reaching up to pull his mask down.

"Listen to me very carefully, Korben Fadir," he says. "For Tim? For Bruce and Jason? I will do anything. And you?" He reaches out, touching Korben's chin with his thumb. "You must decide. Are you willing to prove that you're family? Or are you going to make an advesary of me?"

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lazarushe‌:

knees are pulled up to his chest  ,  one arm around his knees as he listens to dick speak.  of course bruce hadn’t meant to leave him for dead  ,  but there had been more important things.  there were always more important things.  he knew it back then  ,  before he’d died.  he knew it when bruce came to ethiopia to get the joker  ,  and not help him.  and he knows it now.  he doesn’t know why it makes him so sad to hear it  ,  though.  “  i didn’t know you weren’t aware.  “  he shrugs  ,  looking down at the hood quietly  ,  frowning.  “ i read the reports on the matter  ,  the ones in the news and the autopsy report.  from what i gathered  ,  i had a closed casket funeral  ,  close friends and family only.  bruce and alfred  ,  basically.  “ he shakes his head  ,  pushing the carton over to dick.  “  help yourself  ,  by all means.  “   he laughs  ,  too.  more so at the idea of bruce’s face after dick broke his arm.  “  wish i coulda seen it.  “  he mumbles.  his jaw clenches again at the mention of tim.  it’s not the kids fault  ,  he knows that.  but still  ,  he gets so angry whenever he’s mentioned  ,  so blinded by fury that he wants nothing more than to break the kids neck and dump him in gotham harbour.  he’s working on it  ,  he thinks.  “  the way i was told it  ,  i was barely in the ground before tim put on my colours.  “  then again  ,  talia is a liar.  why would she tell him the truth about that  ?

Dick gives him a few moments to process the information while he takes a cigarette from the box and pulls his lighter out from one of his pouches. Not exactly his brand but it’ll do. He nods slow and quiet. Even knowing Jason is alive, however that is, that familiar rage bubbles in him again. If he finds out Bruce knew about this, he’ll do a lot more than break one of his limbs. 

“I understand why you’d hate us, Jason,” Dick says softly, cheap tobacco sticking to his mouth like a film. “But if you’ll let me, I’d do anything to try to make it up to you. I can’t fix anything, I can’t make what happened better, but maybe I can help you get some closure. Like I said, things are different now, I’m different now, and I really do think it’s for the better.” He smiles. 

“Why did you come back to Gotham, little wing? Let me help you.” 

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lazarushe‌:

the hair on the back of his neck is on end  ,  but he never knows what to trust these days  ,  what gut feeling of his is right or wrong.  he takes the hood back from dick  ,  using it to rest his elbows on as he looks out at the gotham skyline.  “  yeah  ,  actually  ,  it is.  “ jason rubs at the back of his neck  ,  brows furrowing slightly as he reaches into the inside pocket of his jacket  , pulls out a pack of cigarettes  ,  and lights one up.  “  not much.  talia just kept tellin’ me that you guys left me for dead  ,  replaced me immediately  ,  that only she and the league could take care of me  ,  all that shit.  doubt she told me a lot of the truth  ,  though.  “  he shrugs  ,  looking across at him after a moment or so.  “  i mean  ,  the truth would be nice.  “  it would be  ,  but he doubts he’ll get that here.  “  i just wanna know what’s different.  what to expect,  “

Bit of a reach there, Talia, but the al Ghuls have always been bold. Dick sighs deeply. 

“I wish I could tell you that wasn’t all true,” he murmurs. “Dad made a lot of mistakes, little wing. I don’t believe he ever intended to leave you for dead but the result of his collective choices? I also can’t say his intentions matter at that point. He never told me you went missing and he-” Dick pauses, hanging his head some. “I didn’t find out you were dead until they’d already buried you.” 

“Do you mind?” he asks, gesturing to the cigarettes to quietly ask for one. 

“After I found out what happened to you? Dad and I got into a fight. Broke his arm in three places,” he says and he laughs quietly. “I was so- angry. As for Tim, he wasn’t a replacement,” Dick assures. “And it wasn’t immediate. He found out our identities, Jason. He was smart. He was like us; no family, no friends, no home. We couldn’t just turn him away.” 

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korben-fadir‌:

*** Once again, Korben finds himself looking through the glass, watching the lifeless body of a mobster floating within the chamber. He knows a little about Dick’s history with the circus. The White Ghost had told him everything he needed to know about the Wayne family, albeit the distorted truth which had led the young clone to resent Tim and his brothers.

"Has the death of your parents’ murderer brought you any closure?” Korben asks while fixing his eyes on Zucco’s chamber, his features solemn. The blue-haired clone stifles a sigh as he turns away, the sense of dread now washing over him. 

“Pardon my impatience, Richard. But how is this helping me with conquering my nightmares and fears? Are you suggesting that I should kill the White Ghost and have him encased in a glass pod like a prized trophy?”

***

Now that makes Dick really laugh. 

“Oh, cielo,” he sings in amusement. “You think too small. This man isn’t dead.” And he smiles so wide the teeth of his mask seem to do the same. Dick puts a hand on Korben’s shoulder, fond and affectionate, yes, but so distinctly dangerous. 

“Tony Zucco is more alive than he’s been in years,” Dick assures. “Come now, Korben, I will pardon your impatience but your short sightedness? Less so. I do not need closure. Look at these.” He gestures to the other tanks in the line. “A gift, for Tim when he finally makes the right decision. A tank prepared especially for Deathstroke himself when he finally makes the wrong decision. The demon’s daughter’s very own son.” 

“I do not care what you do with your ghosts; spike their heads, bury them face down in shallow graves, or leave their bodies where they may fall for nature itself to reclaim. I am showing you what true power looks like, Korben. Why do I need closure when I can personally, and effectively, make sure no one ever hurts my family again?” he asks.

“So tell me, Korben, when your ghosts come for you, are you going to let them hurt the people you love? Or are you going to do whatever it takes to make sure that never happens?” 

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pseudcsuper‌:

   “ If Tim outsmarts you, I’m going to fucking laugh. ” Though Conner has no doubts that it’s Dick’s intentions to be eventually found it, he still thinks there might be glee in Tim working it out a little sooner then intended. 

Conner shifts in his seat, he’s fairly certain he can hear foot steps somewhere in the building,  still plenty far off but limiting their time anyway, which means there is only a little time left to work through their precarious pact. He frowns, glancing back towards Dick with a little bit of an annoyed huff. 

“ Believe it or not, but I do have my own work too, ” he answers, “ Dad is stupid, he’s gonna fall on his fucking face, sooner rather then later. Side gigs will keep me comfortable till Dad runs dry and I can run solo from there, I don’t gotta be Superboy to do everything, you know. Courier stuff, a little war instigating, maybe some body guard word… ”

Conner rolls his eyes, looking back down at his feet on the table. “ I’m not worried. I might not have The Court to back me up, but I’ll do just fine. ”

Dick just grins. Outsmart him. That’s funny. Out strategize, maybe, but Tim’s good at that. Not that it matters much when Dick is planning on it. He leans forward on the table, blowing smoke directly in Conner’s direction and smiles even wider. 

“You know, Kon-El,” he purrs. “One day? One day you’re going to realise you made enemies with the wrong people. For you, I’m afraid, that day is going to be the day you realise you property to the Light, not Lex Luthor, and they send me to stick a control chip in the back of your skull so you don’t ruin their plans by plastering your face all over the Justice League’s most wanted list.” Dick bites his lip. 

“Just imagine what you could have accomplished with the Court.” 

“No one’s joining your Court, Talon,” Slade says blandly. Dick rolls his eyes. “Status report; Luthor.” 

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korben-fadir‌:

*** Korben’s breath hitches in his throat, the familiar chill of being submerged in artificial amniotic fluid creeping up his spine. The young clone says nothing as he stares at the grand talon encased within one of the resting chambers. After a minute or so, he breaks his gaze away to glance about the room before returning his attention to Dick.

“Are they all in stasis?” he asks. “What happened to your great grandfather? Was he wounded? What’s the purpose of keeping him and the others in these chambers?” 

It’s unnerving. Korben clearly doesn’t feel comfortable being here but is trying his utmost to keep himself together.

***

"Yes," Dick replies easily; slow. "As long as they remain on ice, they do not age and their injuries heal." Well, their injuries heal anyways but having them on ice makes them easier to work on for repair and upgrades. 

"Grandfather decided that his loyalty was to the Court, not the family," he explains. "I gave him ample chance but he decided that he was going to make decisions that hurt the rest of the family. So here we are, in a semi-permanent time out. I wake him up now and again to see if he has changed his tune." Dick moves on to the next pod. 

"Most of the talons here are simply resting until it is time for them to be called on again," Dick explains. "Deactivated talons remain on ice until there's a better use for them but after the Court changed hands, we haven't had a need to deactivate any. Mm, this one here is Tony Zucco; the man responsible for my parents' deaths. This is a trophy."