- One Of The Only Ppl Who Doesnt Violently Hate Him So He Probably Shows Up And Messes With Them Unannounced Every Now N Then BHKBGTR - Tumblr Posts
Unwilling to learn, ━ or just unwilling to bend that way.
Edward was the strange middleground ━ the gateway between the world of Gotham’s underbelly & the people in it, and the people like Ally who raked their fingers at the skin of it, bled from it, and decided the iron was not the taste of anything worth having. This is to say the man’s always been just obedient enough to pass by, for the most part. Too scrawny to be violent, too restrained to be conniving ( and actually carry anything out himself, even if rumors of who hit who on the demands of another were often enough for a more physical retribution ) ━ it’s perhaps unsurprising that it was him they’d half-befriended within its walls, with the rest so festering, and him just the same; a different boiler, a different wound.
Ally, who raked their fingers at the skin of it, bled from it, and decided the iron was not the taste of anything worth having. Funny, then, how he just wont go. ━ or maybe, how they let him stay. ( a life of survival as an obedient thing ; being good like being holy, but no idea how to live. at least he was interesting. at least he was something. ━ playing with matches like your not lighting fire, like the fire wont stop coming back. )
He seems entirely unbothered at the sharp tone, the defense of an implication that very well may or may not imply inadequacy or a general conversational atmosphere of ‘ you should really be faring better than that by now, ‘ which, of course, Edward would neither confirm nor deny but lined his tone like pavement you couldn't see. Paper rustles in his hands as he’s sat in one of their chairs, a journal he’s always kept on him, the sound maybe grating to the ear & maybe the only thing keeping his fidgeting hands sane. The reason he had it now was the same reason he was only allowed writing utensils ━ crayons sometimes, but usually finger paint ━ in his cell ; the inability to stop. He couldn’t help it, and wordplay was less of a crime in law than murder, so the sound of rustling pages was a grown tolerance.
“ Same as always. “ the answer he always gives, as if its obvious. it never was. 'the answer' could be multiple choice, rhetorical, an impulse on a whim for a thought that he ━ in all his pride ━ had manually dictated simply did not exist; the concept of worrying about one of his very few friends who, for the most part, showed slightly more restraint than a majority when it came to punching him in the jaw when he got smart with them was chief among them, actually, which also might've been why it felt the most plausible and least at the same time. This was the long way of implying that he wanted something from them ; or, of course, he just wanted to mock them when he heard trouble, in the way Eddie always hears
" Do you remember their face? I could find them. I've had nothing much else to do. Might be fun. " boredom. a pause, an addition; " Nothing bad. If you care. "
' which I know you do. '
@quillheel : “You got hurt, again? Again?” // from the riddler! dc verse! i think it’d be interesting if they were acquaintances to buddies while in the asylum bc they’re both one of the few people who haven’t been driven to violence being their default state while within its walls
“shut up, i didn’t get hurt ‘again’.”
they didn’t like the implication of his words, his tone. he could’ve genuinely worried about them, but it didn’t matter. since they’ve been out of the asylum they wanted barely anything to do with those who were in there; multiple times for repeated offenses.
it’s like they’re unwilling to learn.
ally didn’t want to become what most already assumed them to be.
“someone just tried to rob the wrong person. failed, obviously.” a thumb brushes against their cheek, to clean the fresh blood from the small cut across their face. it’ll heal quickly. “…why are you even here anyways?”