This is a snippet of the first chapter to my fic Robin Hood (reference to this post)
A Crow's Murder
Danny was thoroughly exhausted. Ever since he died, he could never seem to catch a break. At all. Even as a 20 year old civilian, life wanted to punch him in the face- repeatedly. Sure, he may have been stealing from labs at night (Wayne industries included) but they had tons of money for replacements! Look, ghost hunting without using his ghost powers was tough, especially when the entirety of the Fenton labs went up in flames. The only thing he had on him when he left was a blaster and a thermos, not enough for the jobs he was trying to accomplish. He really wasn’t a criminal! It was all for the greater good! He swears it! Heroes break the law to save people all the time, how is he any different? (They’re not fugitives with entire government branches after them).
Still, he didn’t want to leave Gotham just because the Bats were getting closer on his tail. He was doing so well at not using his powers, even learned how to lock pick so he avoided walking through walls! Sam would 100% be proud of him and his hard work at fucking over large corporations and unethical research.
Anyways, his little Bat problem is what led to his current situation, moving apartments into Crime alley, specifically Red Hood’s territory. When he first got to Gotham and accidentally hobbled inside he immediately ‘Noped’ right out of there. First off, the vibes were retched. Second, he knew a warning sign in aura if he ever saw one, and the border between uptown Gotham and this was blaring red lights and sirens screaming “STAY OUT”, and Danny knew how to listen to directions like that. Sadly, now he was left with no choice.
Batman had been patrolling around where he lives a little too much recently. Normally, the clan would take turns patrolling certain areas at certain times for safety, but not recently. Danny knew they were catching onto him. His ghostliness messed with cameras when he let his aura loose, but it didn’t erase the fact that the footage existed. He knew they didn’t have a clear picture of him or his abilities, but they knew he existed and knew he was a phantom thief, and that was enough. Danny no longer questioned their titles as ‘best detectives in the world’. After all, they were giving him a run for his money.
Moving to Crime Alley was indeed the best option, though. Danny had analyzed the bats and their movements ever since he moved here a year ago at 19. He knew that after Red Hood had his whole war with them, they backed off of the area and the haunt finally settled as the vigilante’s territory. Now, a few years after that, the bats left the area alone except for special circumstances during major events. That meant that the safest option for the halfa right now, was to walk into the lion’s den and pray he wasn’t hungry.
.
.
.
Maybe he shouldn’t have started thieving this soon-
Currently, he was being chased to hell high waters by Red Hood and his two guns affectionately named. To be fair, he didn’t even get to actually steal anything, so technically he wasn’t breaking the law. Sure, he broke into a VladCo. Lab and went rummaging through the computers using tuckers parting gift to him- but that didn’t make him a criminal. Honestly, he was offended, didn’t even get to trash the place as a ‘fuck you’ to Vlad. The man deserved it after the shit he pulled ever since Danny turned 14. The man had disappeared like his parents, and while it was concerning, Danny couldn’t help but be glad he was gone.
“Stop!”
A robotic voice called after him from a few feet behind. How Red Hood was so large and still this fast was beyond him. Nevermind the fact that he felt dead, but not. He wasn’t necessarily a halfa, but he did have that ‘totally died and didn’t revive right’ vibes to him that just gave him a chill.
Danny didn’t answer him, just continued running for his life and jumping between buildings. Maybe he did use his powers a bit to make landings easier and make up for his obvious lack of experience or skill, no one could call him out on it.
He had just wanted information on where the man had gone. While he was thankful for the somewhat peace, Vlad disappearing always meant bad news. Worse if he was in danger and caught by the GIW. There were reports of Vlad being seen at some of the Wayne Galas, but that was half a year ago, no word since. He’d hate to say it, but he was worried. Sure, he hated the man’s guts- he was a total fruitloop and only got worse over time, but he was the first halfa, and whether Danny admitted it or not he learned a lot from him. Sue him for being a little concerned, if not for Plasmius, then for himself. The GIW having any ghost was bad news for him. Live research only spelled bad news.
The lab was practically no help. The only thing the computers contained were some schematics for his equipment in the basement, but none of it was the real dangerous stuff like the portal or even cloning pods. Danny was still happy he got the chance to destroy the lab and all the tech in it, he loved Dani, but he didn’t think he could handle another clone dying or destabilizing. Dani was in the Ghost Zone, exploring and mapping out all of its locations. He didn’t know what he’d do if she got caught in the crossfires of this war.
Danny jumped from one roof to another, he had to keep to buildings close to each other. Unlike Red Hood, he didn’t have a grappling hook to bring him across streets. He didn’t want to alert Batman of his not-totally-human status. Best case scenario he thought he was a meta who could fly and would do his whole ‘no metas in Gotham’ spiel. Worst case scenario he figured out Danny was a powerful ghost who happened to be a fugitive from the government and would turn him in. From then on Danny didn’t know what they’d do to him, but he’d never tell them how to build the portal. That information died with him and him alone.
By the time he heard bullets going past him and a rubber one hitting him square in the shoulder, he knew he had to get gone. Danny had already ran past his new home, any farther and he’d have to use his powers way longer than normal. Slowly the two had gone up in height between buildings, by now if he fell off the side he’d get at least severely injured, but that height was nothing to his flight. Danny waited another minute before speeding up and widening the distance between them before ‘slipping’ and falling down the side of the building rather ungracefully.
By the time Red Hood caught up, Danny was gone.
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Here's the link to the fic! A Crow's Murder
@dat1angel @redhoneysugarorange @easily-broken-by-emotion @summerfox1988 @bathildaburp @collectingthegoods @ravenr22 @strawberryfire17 @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit
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(context for watcher/listener!sausage can be found in the “videos” tag on my blog if you want it, but this ficlet can be read without said context)
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“Y’know, of all the Hermits I was expecting to be pulling me into a dark corner tonight, I did not expect you to be first, Grian! I love the initiative!”
“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” Grian says in a voice near a hiss. He’s got Sausage by the wrist, leading him into a small area of the upper floor of the tavern in Sanctaury that does look like it was built for the exact purpose Sausage is implying. Grian decides to ignore that as well.
“What are you doing here?” Grian’s straight to the point. He always has to be, with these Things, if he doesn’t want to get trapped in a loop of slant rhyming pleasantries.
“What do you mean?” Sausage asks, shaking his wrist out of Grian’s tight grip and leaning comfortably against the wall. “This is where I live. It’s my home. If anything, I should be asking you mysterious strangers what you’re doing here, but I’m sure you’ve heard that question enough for one day.”
“You know exactly what I mean.” Grian crosses his arms and tries his best not to look petulant, but he sure feels like it. “I thought They’d given up on trying to snatch me back, so why would They send you of all people? What’s your game?”
Sausage laughs, honest to god laughs, like he can’t believe Grian’s even asking him such a question. Grian thinks it’s a reasonable question, in this scenario, but what he thinks and what’s reasonable rarely seems to matter with these things.
“They didn’t send me,” Sausage looks him up and down in that way that makes Grian have to physically stop himself from curling inwards. This is why he never talks to Them. “Nobody sends me anywhere, they don’t tell me what to do and I like it that way! I just do my own thing. Isn’t that what you’re doing?”
“No you’re not! You’re not- you can’t be! That’s not how this works!” Grian begins to notice that he’s no longer whisper-shouting and starting to just-normal-shout and takes a deep breath, trying not to draw the attention of his friends enjoying themselves on the floor below. And, realistically, in the other dark corners Sausage seems to have built into this place.
“That’s exactly how this works. You didn’t think you were the only person who’d left, did you?”
Grian opens his mouth, closes it, and thinks. In hindsight… yeah, he had kind of assumed he’d been the only person who’d left. Not for lack of trying, probably- but They’d tried for so long to get him back, kept him closely surveilled even when They’d accepted he was gone- surely some people had caved to that pressure eventually. When there was no sign They’d ever let up, ever let you go… he could understand eventually letting it overtake you.
“Did- did you leave, too?” Grian doesn’t remember the last time he saw Sausage’s face. He didn’t know him back then, of course. He probably would’ve connected the man with the person Pearl so often spoke about sooner. But he knows it’s been a long time, maybe even longer than the last time Grian had gone There. He doesn’t think Sausage had been There, that day. This might explain why.
“Eh, not quite?”
“What-“ Grian flails, both mentally and with his arms a bit. “What do you mean not quite?”
“Exactly what I said! I was never- it’s complicated, y’know?”
“Explain. Now.”
“Well, uh,” Sausage seems to flounder for the first time since this conversation started, which Grian is choosing to take as a victory. “Look, I wasn’t- they didn’t pick me. For this, or for anything, ever. Sometimes things just happen and you get yourself into a place you shouldn’t have and then… they can’t get rid of me, I can’t get rid of them, it is what it is.”
Grian stares at him for a long moment. Really stares at him, in the same way Sausage had looked him over earlier, in the same way that makes you feel like you’re under a microscope. Judging by the sudden nerves in his eyes, Grian can assume he feels it too. Grian remembers his face. That had been the first thing he’d noticed, when the Hermits had arrived. It had been a long time since they’d seen each other, but Grian knew his face. And now that Grian was studying him, really trying to remember… he’s not sure he quite likes what memories he’s dredging up.
“What are you?”
“Grian!” Sausage’s voice drips with mock offense as he puts his hand up to partially cover his mouth. “We only just met, do you think that’s polite?”
“Answer the question,” Grian sighs. How Pearl deals with this man on the regular, he doesn’t know.
“Well, if you insist.” Sausage sighs, somehow even more exaggerated than his previous movements. “It’s just… if you’ll believe it, it’s somehow even harder to answer the first question.”
“It shouldn’t be,” Grian says. “They’re two very different People, you know.”
“But they’re the same species, when it all comes down to it. Like, you might be very different than a chicken, but you’re both birds in the long run.”
Grian pauses, fanning his wings out a bit behind him as he considers. “I don’t think that metaphor’s quite landing the way you want it to.”
“No, me neither. Anyways, let me continue.
When they don’t pick you, things go a little differently! You don’t get sorted onto one side or the other since, well, you’re not really supposed to be there? So I’m… whatever I want to be, really. I think I’m feeling like more of a Listener, today, but we’ll see how the mood shifts.”
Grian flinches at the Name, on instinct. He doesn’t know how to feel about that, so he files it away to be dealt with at a later date. As for the rest of what Sausage said-
“What?”
“You heard me.” Sausage shrugs. He’s so nonchalant, Grian thinks he might strangle him, if not for the worry that that’s exactly what he wants out of this, somehow.
“Did I? Did I hear you?” Grian wants to pace, but that requires leaving the security of the corner, so he forces his feet to root themselves to the floor. “I thought- I thought you had to- if you wanted to change sides, I thought you had to-“
Grian closes one eye and takes his thumb to it, twisting the finger into his eyelid. The gesture seems to get the point across.
“Well, that’s the funny thing about this, actually.” From the way he’s been talking, Grian assumed Sausage thought this whole thing was funny. He restrains himself from saying that out loud if only so Sausage will finish his explanation.
Sausage reaches up to his left eye, pulls his eye lid back a bit, and unceremoniously pops out his prosthetic eye.
“All these processes and rituals actually have a lot of loopholes.”
Grian doesn’t know what face he’s making, but it’s enough to make Sausage giggle while he pops the eye back in. Because of course he does. Because this how his day is going, apparently. Walk through a weird portal in his basement and wake up in a world filled with his friends who don’t recognize him and also a guy he only ever saw There, who he was never supposed to see again. Sure. Of course he’s laughing about it. Grian thinks if he was a slightly different person, he’d be laughing too. It is, undeniably, absurd.
“Well, I think we’re done here then!” Grian would probably object if he weren’t so shocked about the loopholes. As it is, he just stands there a bit stupidly.
Sausage turns away to return to the party before turn around again for just a moment, reaching over, and ruffling Grian’s hair. That shocks him enough to shake him out of his stupor and swat Sausage’s hand away, though not before his hair is suitably messed up.
“What was that for?!”
Sausage smiles as he reaches up to rough up his own hair as well. “I assumed you didn’t want your friends asking questions about why you were dragging me into a dark corner, you know?” Sausage even goes far enough to pull his shirt a bit out of where it’s tucked into his pants, because of course he does. Grian tries not to cringe, but Sausage is right about this one thing. It is the easiest way to dodge any questions about where he’d gone off to- at the expense of the many knowing looks and teasing remarks he’ll be getting from the other Hermits instead.
“Have a good night, Grian!” Sausage calls over his shoulder as he turns to leave for real this time. “And remember, drinks are on me for all you guests tonight! You look like you need it.”
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