[The unfortunate part of all of this: the makeshift glove doesn't work against the flowers. He finds out the hard way their abilities have nothing to do with touching flesh. It's not a toxin. It's magic, and he hates it.] Huh.
Looks like Asphodelus...
[He expected it, no less. And yet... here they are:
The flash of memory isn't bad. In fact, it's good, and that's where a majority of the embarrassment will come from afterward.
The feeling is... comfort, even to Kisa experiencing it. Peaceful. Something fuzzy behind the head, like fur, but short and smooth. In his ears, music plays. A door along the far wall opens, spilling a wide shard of yellow light into the room, broken up by a broad shadow.
Titus whines, and a large hand drops gently on his folded arms. When his eyes open, a kneeling man with a face that feels familiar is leaning over him. "Damian," Bruce says. It's enough to startle him, and he sits up sharply, thinking it's--it has to be, right? The Joker?
But Bruce reassures him, and despite the mess of files and photos spread all around the floor in every direction, Bruce is proud of his research. Bruce wants him to follow him, and his legs pick themselves up.
"Where are we going?"
"Up."
The first thing he does when the memory ends is drop the flower and take half a step back unsteadily. For once, the town doesn't taunt him with trauma, but he's still somehow unnerved by the vision. He isn't sure what to make of it--a memory? Is it a warning? A lesson?]
no subject
Looks like Asphodelus...
[He expected it, no less. And yet... here they are:
The flash of memory isn't bad. In fact, it's good, and that's where a majority of the embarrassment will come from afterward.
The feeling is... comfort, even to Kisa experiencing it. Peaceful. Something fuzzy behind the head, like fur, but short and smooth. In his ears, music plays. A door along the far wall opens, spilling a wide shard of yellow light into the room, broken up by a broad shadow.
Titus whines, and a large hand drops gently on his folded arms. When his eyes open, a kneeling man with a face that feels familiar is leaning over him. "Damian," Bruce says. It's enough to startle him, and he sits up sharply, thinking it's--it has to be, right? The Joker?
But Bruce reassures him, and despite the mess of files and photos spread all around the floor in every direction, Bruce is proud of his research. Bruce wants him to follow him, and his legs pick themselves up.
"Where are we going?"
"Up."
The first thing he does when the memory ends is drop the flower and take half a step back unsteadily. For once, the town doesn't taunt him with trauma, but he's still somehow unnerved by the vision. He isn't sure what to make of it--a memory? Is it a warning? A lesson?]
Father...