[ The statement reruns in her head like one of those old tapes Kon had that got stuck when you put them in the player and froze on a scene, she dissects it cleanly looking for a hint of insincerity, a con, something. It's not just another job: this is a place in someone's home, with their family. She has one, but it's built on a promise Tim made to Dick, one she's always believed is tenuous. She's walked away from them before, when their jagged edges chafed against hers; the world Tim and Cassie and Kon and Bart come from and live in is so different from her own. None of them learnt as children that the collarbone was one of the easiest to break and most painful to mend. Even Eddie, he tried, but - he wasn't Khaji or Damian. They weren't made to be the finest instruments of destruction the world had seen. ]
[ Fuck, she was still calling herself Ravager, wasn't she? And out there? In space? Nobody knew Deathstroke. Nobody cared about her father or her reputation or the fact that the blood came up to her elbows. Nobody to tell her where the line was, because Quill's line matches hers. She doesn't have to kill. But she doesn't have to spare the bastards either. It was just the way of the world up there: infinite. A world of survivors, great and small. Her world. ]
[ She should answer with something flippant; the long pause has already betrayed her. ]
no subject
[ The statement reruns in her head like one of those old tapes Kon had that got stuck when you put them in the player and froze on a scene, she dissects it cleanly looking for a hint of insincerity, a con, something. It's not just another job: this is a place in someone's home, with their family. She has one, but it's built on a promise Tim made to Dick, one she's always believed is tenuous. She's walked away from them before, when their jagged edges chafed against hers; the world Tim and Cassie and Kon and Bart come from and live in is so different from her own. None of them learnt as children that the collarbone was one of the easiest to break and most painful to mend. Even Eddie, he tried, but - he wasn't Khaji or Damian. They weren't made to be the finest instruments of destruction the world had seen. ]
[ Fuck, she was still calling herself Ravager, wasn't she? And out there? In space? Nobody knew Deathstroke. Nobody cared about her father or her reputation or the fact that the blood came up to her elbows. Nobody to tell her where the line was, because Quill's line matches hers. She doesn't have to kill. But she doesn't have to spare the bastards either. It was just the way of the world up there: infinite. A world of survivors, great and small. Her world. ]
[ She should answer with something flippant; the long pause has already betrayed her. ]
[ He means what he says. ]
This friend of yours. Knives or guns?