The Blackest Night falls from the skies,
The Darkness grows as we face demise,
With heart and soul that tyranny denies,
With my Black Hand, the dead shall RISE!!!
ใ #DCRP โ๐โ #NSFWRP ใ
Pulling himself back together, a severed arm being stitched back on with a needle and thread made of black light.
"Yeesh... Gotta be more careful, next time I tangle with Seventh Sword."
@KRYPTONIASS "WOULD Iโ"
Cutting himself off with a construct of a hand over his mouth, before releasing it and clearing his throat.
"...I mean, yeah, totally."
Nonchalant as /hell/*.
(* he's not.)
โ havenโt seen a red and
pink in one place before?
Then come here and be
the first to feel the ๐๐๐๐๐
๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐
๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐~๐ด๐ฉท โ
@KRYPTONIASS "Dude, don't, uh. Worry?"
Sweating bullets, he ain't built for this.
"I'm f-flattered. Really, it's like, /never/ that a pretty girl calls me handsome, so I'm just processing thatโ"
@KRYPTONIASS "..."
Rubbing the back of his own neck sheepishly, before clearing his throat. His cheeks were tinged with pink, reddening before long.
"Yeah, uh... yeah. Definitely good-looking."
He can kinda get it.
A lot of his non-crimefighting work is dealing with ghosts, and they're, like. The poster children for weird relationships with post-life.
Any big regrets she's working on? That's a common place to start.
She can...somewhat agree with that view, though she will admit, it is quite a strange one.
Perhaps it works best for him since he can't remember much. She remembers everything however.
@KRYPTONIASS "Yeah, we, uh... definitely seem to be multiplying."
Canceling his construct, scratching his jaw in thought.
"Maybe it's, like. Synchronicity, or something. A spiral that pulls all of us in, centers it up for some reason..."