[ a large sack full of questionably edible worm parts. there's leakage on the bottom, creating a slimy streak on the pavement. robin is carelessly dragging it across the street behind him by the handles, which he has extended with a neat slice to each end.
caleb got all squeamish on him earlier. hilarious at first, but then his complaints grew annoying. always happens. he shut him out.
he isn't actually going to eat it, but he wants to dissect it further. once they're back in their apartment. the sentence sounds funny in his head, foreign. he never had an apartment as nice as the one they're living in now.
sodder, sodder, sodder...
that's who he needs to give his thanks to.
robin is not a good samaritan. he doesn't save or help people without expecting something in return. but seeing how he has spent the last eight years staring at a white padded cell in chains, he is in a pretty good fucking mood. so when he overhears someone calling for help, he decides why the fuck not? giant insects are surprisingly fun to kill anyway. ditching the bag, he unsheathes the silver dagger at his waist as he looks between the stick-wielding lady and the worms encircling her.
soundlessly, he runs straight for the one closing in on her the fastest with unnatural speed, leaping up onto it and piercing his blade into its cranium. just as quickly, he will be giving the same treatment to the next two. it seems he has successfully seized their attention and it's making his blood rush with excitement.
maybe take this cue to get out of the way, lady. ]
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caleb got all squeamish on him earlier. hilarious at first, but then his complaints grew annoying. always happens. he shut him out.
he isn't actually going to eat it, but he wants to dissect it further. once they're back in their apartment. the sentence sounds funny in his head, foreign. he never had an apartment as nice as the one they're living in now.
sodder, sodder, sodder...
that's who he needs to give his thanks to.
robin is not a good samaritan. he doesn't save or help people without expecting something in return. but seeing how he has spent the last eight years staring at a white padded cell in chains, he is in a pretty good fucking mood. so when he overhears someone calling for help, he decides why the fuck not? giant insects are surprisingly fun to kill anyway. ditching the bag, he unsheathes the silver dagger at his waist as he looks between the stick-wielding lady and the worms encircling her.
soundlessly, he runs straight for the one closing in on her the fastest with unnatural speed, leaping up onto it and piercing his blade into its cranium. just as quickly, he will be giving the same treatment to the next two. it seems he has successfully seized their attention and it's making his blood rush with excitement.
maybe take this cue to get out of the way, lady. ]