❝ Ah. Rosalie Wayne. Pleasure is ours. ❞
❝ Bruce Wayne. What can we do for you? ❞
"A pleasure to meet you both. And, Mr. Wayne, I just wished to pay my respects. I’ve heard quite a lot about you both." Lies, of course, but who would distrust those baby blues so wide and true?
I know! All the crack!rp seems to happen when I need to sleep and it makes me sad. Stupid responsibilities…stupid adult…ness.
Mhm. I agree. Completely.
❝ My children have never spoke of you. ❞
Her voice is soft —- a complementary smile follows:
warm and silly ——— motherly.
❝ They speak of so many people.
Apologies —- do you mind refreshing our memory of your name? ❞
"Why.. The name’s Harleen Quinzel.. And.. I’m just an acquaintance..”
Dante audibly groan as he listened. All he had to do was go to the bank and on this ONE day it was getting robbed. There were some times when he agreed with his hunger. It would be so much easier if he didn’t have remorse and simply wasted them all. He just kept hearing SHH! from every person around him. They were so afraid of getting shot, it just made him groan even more. This would make the DMV look like a quick line.
He heard the robbers yelling for everyone to get down the second it was his turn. He simply walked up, not listening. “I would like to close out my account please.” Meanwhile the worth nothing teller was already on the floor, cowering in fear. Crap. This made things even more difficult. He repeated slowly in hopes she was just stupid. ”I would like to close out my account.” The teller looked at him with fear in her eyes. “What are you doing!? Get down or you will get shot.” Apparently she didn’t pay attention to the ‘quiet rule of the robbers and got shot with a loud BANG.
That was when he felt it. The gun barrel to the back of the head and a voice telling him to turn around. She spoke with so much sass she could barely contain it. “Looks like we have a wise guy here.” He sighed softly when she was done speaking. Looks like this was going to be a long night and he was getting hungry.
"He-ey!" She sing songed at the goon that fired his gun, smacking him over the head with an open palm. Just what was he doing? She said no blood, no must, no fuss, but noooooo, was anyone listening to her? With an overly dramatic sigh, she pressed the barrel of her gun tighter to the skull she held it against. "Why aren’tcha listenin’?" She asked in her sugary sweet tone, a tooth ache likely to happen to any that listen to the candy floss words she speaks.
Didn’t he know which city he was banking in? Seemed like he didn’t. Which made her sad, she didn’t want anyone else to die, after all.. That’d get her tossed back into Arkham.. And she wasn’t about to go back there alive and kicking. “Don’t cha know you hit the ground when someone asks nicely?”
The hand holding the gun dropped away, and her petite frame moved around the man, standing in front of him with a hip crocked and a frown curling inky black lips. She was dolled up for the night, her black mask concealing the upper half of her face, and her catsuit was tight and two toned red and black, three diamonds on her right thigh. It wasn’t her usual jester outfit, but she had retired the out getup when her Puddin’ left.. Now she donned something different, something new. “Be good, why don’t cha, so I don’t haveta break knee caps..”
When absolutely NO character ever is even slightly intimidated by extremely tall, muscular and violent characters. I know that you’re behind a computer screen and you’re not scared because it’s not real, but your character is weak, a foot shorter than mine and this 7-foot, 300-pound bruiser is getting extremely pissed off and has a license to injure. Could anyone not even be SLIGHLTY wary of someone like that?
OMG DO IT! I’m going to make my husband watch it with me when we’re free. - screaming.- THE FEELS I HAVE ALREADY AND NOTHING HAS HAPPENED YET!