Peter's lunch meeting with Tear had gone far better than he could have even expected. It was a good thing that he wasn't the sort of person who judged by age, seeing how the girl had proved herself to be very capable despite the fact that she was only a teenager. Not that Peter would ever admit it out loud, but Tear was a lot more mature than his
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So, when she wandered back into the sun room, she let her gaze dart around briefly, scoping it out. No signs of them yet. Should be safe for her to hang around, find something to do that didn't involve the menial task of arts and crafts ( ... )
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"If it's that important, I'll hear about it. What about you? Any secret messages stacked up there for you, Harv?" She was definitely breaking the threshold of personal space by inviting herself to sit beside him without bothering to ask, but she wasn't in his bubble yet at least. She was more interested in picking his brain than his jacked up face anyway.
That, and getting a rise out of him if she could manage. She had to entertain herself somehow, after all. The more she learned about his buttons, the easier it'd be to use him. There was nothing quite so telling about a person as knowing what really ground their gears.
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"I don't know if you noticed, but you're kinda missing half your face." There was a casual air to the way she said it, like she found it laughable that he could honestly say he wasn't that interesting with a straight half-a-face. She wasn't pussyfooting around his injury, and she wasn't disgusted by it. Instead, she was at ease and completely comfortable talking about it ( ... )
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"Ever consider that it may just have been a freak accident?" he shot back with a frown that showed that he wasn't nearly as amused by this subject matter as she was. Although he realized that that argument was a weak one. He stood out for the sheer fact that Landel or Aguilar or whoever it was who decided who was brought here had picked him. Add the injury to that and yeah, he stuck out like a sore thumb.
To think that there would have been a time when he would have wanted nothing more than to get noticed. He'd gone the extra mile to make sure that everyone in Gotham knew his name, his face -- and that was why the result was so ironic. That was why the Joker had singled him out, had dropped by his hospital bed just to gloatHe didn't see why she would ( ... )
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So, instead of dwelling and arguing it with him, she moved on. Moved on like the fact of the matter was that it didn't matter. Like the way he got uncomfortable every time she mentioned it was all him and no one else cared that he thought it was some big deal. He'd have to come around and get cozy to it sooner or later, Ruby was just paving the way ( ... )
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"Unless you want to start answering some questions for once." There was a pattern forming here where she was always the one asking him questions and he wanted to nip that in the bud as soon as possible. He didn't like prying in general, so if she started to think that it was the norm? That wouldn't be good ( ... )
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But, it wasn't the kind of thing that bore dwelling. After all, three weeks was still three times as much time as she'd put in, and that meant he had something to contribute. Even if it wasn't everything he thought it was.
"I was never desperate. Something you'll learn about me -- I don't do desperate. I make do all on my own -- when I have to. But, I'm also smart enough not to say no to anything you've got handy, if you're offering." She raised an eyebrow.
Not specific information, but anecdotes. The kind of thing like oh, by the ( ... )
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But, there was one thing. Now that Sam was off the table and she could actually think of her own goals before her goals for him and where she wanted him to be, she realized something she wasn't especially happy about. That pit in her gut, the one that welled with guilt and burned in her veins just a little. The one that had been there ever since her little trip to the vet.
"Upstairs. Word on the street is they do experiments." God bless the uniform that hid the scar down the center of her chest that'd give an indicator that she knew from more than just word on the street. "What do you know about them? What are they trying ( ... )
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Were they trying to break her down or build her up to something else? It had felt like her soul was seared, damaged beyond what it already had been. What had once been an emaciated skeleton of a being, torn and abused, was now charred beyond recognition. But only the doctors would really be able to tell her what their plan for her was, it'd seem.
"Your roommate got a name? I mean, I'm just saying, if I'm supposed to go around getting the first hand account, might help if I knew where to start with who'd seen the sharp end of those knives." She shrugged, raising one eyebrow in invitation. It wasn't a particularly demanding request -- she wasn't entitled enough to think that he had to tell her. But there was ( ... )
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