1. What’s your name? Jess
2. When is your birthday? January 15th
3. Where are you from? Pardeeville, WI (yes this is real, no we don’t party e___e; )
4. Have a crush? Does the hubby count? 8B
5. What’s your favorite color? Lime/Neon Green
6. Write something in caps? PUDDING!
7. Got a favorite band/artist? Rob Zombie, Florence and the Machine, Two Steps From Hell, Muse, A Perfect Circle, KoRn, and the list goes on…
8. Favorite number? 52
9. Favorite drink? Disaronno & 7UP
“It’s not a bad time,
is it, Jay-bird?”
“Well look what the cat dragged in.
I was just about to head out, but
I suppose I could stick around a
little while longer — unless you’d
like to tag along? I could always
use a good pair of sticky fingers.”
Well does it make it easier for you to think that my little dip in his fountain of youth turned me rabid?
There are so, so many more of you than I ever thought there ever would be. I’m so very privileged that all you fantastic and beautiful people have decided to follow my Bruce, and have shown both mun and muse lots and lots of love. I really didn’t expect to even get 300 followers, much less 3,000 of you (okay the actual number right now is 3,106).
As much as I’d love to interact with every single one of you, I just don’t have the time or the patience, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t appreciate your support and love and when you laugh at the not so funny ooc things I post. Every single person who follows me is a fantastically unique and lovable human being (maybe some of you are aliens that’d be cool) and I appreciate you so much.
ᴍʏ ᴄʟɪǫᴜᴇ (those I love with every fiber of my being)
ᴛʜᴇ sᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟ sɴᴏᴡғʟᴀᴋᴇs (those I interact with and adore)
acrownofflameforaking ◇ agentclntbrtn ◇avengerclintbarton ◇ butthecatcameback ◇ caiera-the-oldstrong ◇ callmeselina ◇ calisvol ◇ chemibomb◇ codenamewinter ◇ codenamews ◇
credencex ◇ cxpt ◇ daddyissuesandadog ◇ degeneris ◇ doiscareyou ◇ frozen-delinquent ◇ harlemlullaby ◇ hxwlett ◇ illripyourthroat ◇ invenina ◇ kreefanatic ◇
ladyxliberty ◇ letnotthyheartbeheavy ◇ luxbrumxlis ◇ medicisms ◇ motherofasgard ◇
mxtthewmurdock ◇ nebulxr ◇ notamonstxr ◇ photosynthxsis ◇ prxfessors-pet ◇ quiickest ◇ relicuums ◇ rvnin ◇ sacriifiice ◇ savageclaws ◇ shieldcap ◇ sonofhulk ◇
spatiia ◇ starxdouche ◇ starxspartoi ◇ subj89p13 ◇ teddybagwell ◇ thekiiller ◇ valixnce ◇
viindicate ◇ xaedificare ◇xerebrum ◇ xmilitus ◇ xornalista ◇ xstrange ◇ xthorsdottir ◇
xvdova ◇ youstxndaccused
ʜᴏʟʏ ᴄᴀᴛs ɪ ғᴏʟʟᴏᴡ ᴋᴏᴀʟᴀ ᴛᴇᴀ (those I admire greatly from afar)
accxser ◈ adversare ◈ advxrsus ◈ agenths ◈ agentweston ◈ araiignee ◈ a-shadows-lie ◈ archaeologiist ◈ artisunum ◈ aprofoundduplicity ◈ astrifer-ous ◈ auuxilio ◈ bowandarrxw ◈ constantquibbling ◈ cleantechs ◈ cryokinesi ◈
cullxn ◈ cutoffthehead ◈ dctah ◈deceiverx ◈ deadliiest ◈ defiiled ◈ deshibxsara ◈
destroyiing ◈dorrekviiitbh ◈ dxstroyxr ◈ earthandthunder ◈ edhelernil ◈ fastxr ◈
gildr ◈ heroforhollywood ◈ hexesinscarlet ◈ impxster ◈ incurringdebt ◈ ironexec ◈
ironmxde ◈ jdrxw ◈ keptmyhairshort ◈legendary-quill ◈ lehnsheerr ◈ livingbyacode ◈ loremiecit ◈ mahaigne ◈ martyriisms ◈
martyriou ◈ militarydaughter ◈ miraavx ◈ mxhill ◈ mxssmartian ◈ notarodent ◈
oftheatom ◈ ofviolence ◈ paranoxa ◈ perdxro ◈ pxrrish ◈ ravenreno ◈ rxcketrxccoon ◈
scottiish ◈ serumed-achilles ◈ simpletonwithashield ◈ singlasses ◈ sleekscience ◈ soldatzimy ◈
spiiderisms ◈ stardxrk ◈ summershavok ◈ tahhden ◈ thisisnxtfreedom ◈tinkeriing ◈
thetxrch ◈ traitxr ◈ treetxlk ◈ tordenvaer ◈ vingthor ◈ vinylchanges ◈ vxenom ◈
walkmxn ◈ wasthatnotprocedure ◈widowism ◈ whxstlinravage ◈xbrokencrownxhollowhowlx ◈
xeightyhg ◈ xronantheaccuser ◈ xubiytsa
”Uh———” Oh dear. This was probably not where
he was supposed to be, at all. Gotham was a big
city, and Bruce had been to it only once before.
So quickly he backtracked, closing the door. As
soon as he heard the click, he shed his coat and
took off down the hall. He was pretty fast, and good
at the whole running thing. Maybe he’d get away,
because whatever was going on in that room, he
wanted no part of it.
An audible sigh escaped from beneath the mask, as
the other took off. The man looked a little too lost to
be some sort of hired goon — and if that were the case,
then an innocent civilian was potentially in the same
vicinity as the homicidal clown and his lackeys. Shit. A
canister was swiped from the desk top, before the Red
Hood turned tail, quickly heading out the door to follow
after the stranger.
Jason may not have information on this guy, nor does he
have a face that matches to anyone he’d ever seen before
— but one thing was certain, damn could this guy run. He’d
nearly made it clear down the hallway, by the time Jason had
exited the door. There was no way he would be able to catch
this man — not without intervention.
“You need to settle down before you get us both killed, pal,”
he called after the stranger, pulling what appeared to be
some sort of Bola from his utility belt (a gadget he may
or may not have stolen from a former mentor). Jason gave
the man a few moments to rethink his choices, before
ultimately giving pursuit; throwing the weapon toward the
man’s feet, hoping like hell it’d trip him up, or at the very
least, slow him down.
"And I will spare thee’ the same courtesy! —Buzz off. Slime-ball McGee down there is my mark.”
Inadequacy is one hell of a chip on your shoulder, and etiolated crimson could not help but become fixated upon the seemingly invisible one upon this individual’s shoulder. His rep was known, gallons of dirty blood in his wake, yet that hardly impressed a man who had played this game for a decade or two.
[Call him Deathstroke 2.0. Go on--do it!]
[Aren't we Deathstroke 2.0?]
[I like to think we're Deathstroke zero-point-never.]
“Scram. Been paid loads to get rid of this dirt-bag and I ain’t about to lose this score to a runaway hero. Or—y’know—one out of hundreds of other runaway heroes.” Undeniably a less than amused tone, lax stance placid in the view of this murderer’s scope.
O h how he loathed thee.
As far as Jason was concerned, you couldn’t trust ‘em as far as you could throw ‘em. One minute they were working with you, the next, they were trying to collect a bounty on your head that was placed shortly after taking out the mark they helped you kill. — Not to mention they had a tendency to stick their noses in things that didn’t concern them, and severely muck up missions. —Or perhaps he was just biased because this particular one happened to strike a nerve with him. — Yeah that was probably it.
An index finger ran thoughtfully along the trigger of his pistol, whilst he contemplated his next move. As much as he wanted to put a bullet in this man’s kneecap for the unnecessary comment, he wasn’t about to fight over some scumbag. Not when it didn’t matter who, or what, took him out. If someone else was really that intent on doing his job for him, then so be it. Less work for him.
“Fine. Take your damn shot. But just so you know, I’m expecting a full compensation for your little interruption. After all, you are taking my mark — and its going to triple if you miss. So you better be a damn good shot, pal.”