Macabre {Violence}
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Human Solos =&gt; Topic started by: Malrunar on 07-02-2010, 05:42:31</h2>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>07-02-2010, 05:42:31</strong>
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				When she was a child, she wanted to be a dancer when she grew up. Samantha took lessons, she had a natural skill when it came to balance and flexibility, and she could <em>feel</em> the music. It was in her blood, it made her happy. So if anyone asked her what she wanted to be when she grew up, she would have told them ‘a ballerina’. What changed? A car accident when she was nine; her brother AJ picked her up at the studio and was taking her home. Out of nowhere, a large red truck hit them; the driver had been above the legal limit, and died instantly. She was trapped in a ditch with her brother suspended above her, bleeding to death. When the paramedics arrived, she was so coated with blood they thought she was dead.<br><br>Dreams changed. She lost her second brother, Brian, who had been the oldest of the three. She was thirteen. She remembered wearing that stupid, frilly pink dress, surrounded by celebrity stars her own age, and not actually being friends with any of them. The officers that came to her door told her mother and father what had happened; Brian was mugged in an alley, stabbed twice for his wallet, which only contained thirty six dollars.<br><br>When Sam was eighteen, she graduated from high school and went to Stanford University to become a doctor just like her father. She was the top of her class, and like dancing, had a natural intuition and feeling when it came to the human body. Sam was born with many gifts. So when she got that late night phone call at twenty, hearing about her father, one of the most respected physicians in the West coast, was murdered… well… Dreams changed.<br><br>She quit college. Sam took the paramedic’s test and got her license within a year, and headed for Gotham; away from San Diego, away from all her memories, away from a mother that, while loved her dearly, didn’t know how to cope with the loss. She was an actress, and surrounded herself with the spotlight, seeking as much attention as she could obtain so that she didn’t have to remember what it was like to lose everything. Her attempt at bringing Sam in closer to her life had been dragging a film crew to Sam’s apartment with the surprise of a reality TV show. Sam ran the moment she was able.<br><br>She didn’t expect the earth quake, the chaos that followed, all within two months of moving into the city. It was one thing to be new when you had strangers around you. It was quite another when you were left utterly alone, and surrounded by things that hissed and tried to eat you because they were hungry. Gotham was a wasteland, closed off from the rest of the world so that everyone else could be saved and figure out what the hell had gone wrong.<br><br>She was safe enough in her apartment. When she realized what was happening, Sam prepared as best she could, since she had no intention of getting off the island. Some people couldn’t, and they would need help; and that’s what she wanted the most, wasn’t it? Where her mother felt relief by being in the spotlight, Sam felt relief with the ease of others. And where would she go? Back to San Diego? Back to the life she was trying to run from?<br><br>It was noble then, altruistic, and Sam had the best intentions. But she wasn’t feeling very wise now that she was running for her life down an uneven alley, with three of those creatures that had once been human running after her. Sam was a sprinter, but even running her fastest she was struggling to outpace them.<br><br>She vaulted herself forward off of a piece of rubble, using the power in her legs to kick herself higher off the ground where she clutching at the ladder of a rusty fire escape. Fingers curled on gritty metal, the muscles in her arms trembled as she pulled herself up, but the sudden weight clutching at her legs forced her grip free and sent the two figures sprawling on the ground. She wasn’t able to break the fall with her legs, which were currently bound together by a set of arms, so she settled with slapping her hands on the ground to displace the energy, but was rocked forward by a second body as it pounced. Teeth dug in her leg, biting and bruising as they tried to tear through the denim of her jeans; and another set clamped down on the flesh of her shoulder, successfully piercing skin and sending the woman screaming in pain as the third form surged forward; slowed by the twisted leg, and tried to find an open spot where it intended on digging into the unprotected flesh of her belly.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>07-02-2010, 06:05:05</strong>
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				He was still getting used to trying to deal with these things.&nbsp; While he'd managed to overcome the shock of the dead getting up to walk towards him like an out-dated Romero film.&nbsp; Return of the Living Dead Part Twenty Seven booms it's way into Gotham and what's the government response?&nbsp; Quarantine.&nbsp; Splendid.<br><br>At first he'd been trying to treat all of them as if they were still possible to be saved.&nbsp; But it was getting too hard to rescue survivors when handling the monsters with the kid gloves.&nbsp; Already twice today they'd managed to get the better of him because he was being too gentle.&nbsp; The last time had cost him the life of an old man who sacrificed himself so that Nightwing could get his granddaughter to the transport that Gordon had set up.<br><br>Not again.&nbsp; Too soon.<br><br>A titanium carbon eskrima stick came down like the Sword of Damacles against the skull of one of the creatures holding the girl while his foot did it's best to knock the other one off of her.&nbsp; He stood over her, bleeding and breathing heavy.&nbsp; If she thought the bite through denim had been an impressive feat, the injury over his left kidney had been attained through a mesh of kevlar and non-newtonian fluids.<br><br>"Not to sound all <em>Ahnold </em> on you," he panted the words out, "But... come with me if you want to live..."
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>07-02-2010, 06:17:53</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				She wasn’t defenseless, though these bastards were certainly making it look so. Sam could pack a mean punch when she needed to, but the problem was that she couldn’t get an opening or enough room to land a proper hit. So as the teeth dug into flesh, and desperation surfaced, Sam screamed out and struggled for an opening that would give her leverage.<br><br>Her savor came as a figure in black and blue; dislodging the two creatures from her with the ease she wished she could have done. Sam was new to Gotham, but even from California she knew who Batman was, and this man was related to that particular family. In her state her mind blanked from the proper name, she was too relieved to be free of that weight of hungry bodies to even yet care.<br><br>And normally, she might have smirked at his jest, but through pale blue eyes, blurred with tears, Sam struggled to find her footing, her right leg weakened from the bloody rip in the back of her thigh. Even so, she didn’t hesitate, panting just as quickly as Nightwing. <em>That’s right. That’s his name… and he doesn’t look too good either.</em> But you learned a few things when living in this environment. Sam allowed Nightwing to keep his eyes to their front, she cast her eyes to their rear flank, relieved to see that they were still alone. Now what? “R-Run?”
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>07-02-2010, 06:37:26</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				"Can you run on that?" he asked, acknowleding the wound to her leg.&nbsp; He didn't seem to be too concerned about the wound on his own body, the bleeding from which seemed mostly to have caked over into a black and crimson mess... but every once in a while a particularly sharp movement seemed to cause another rush of scarlet to pour freely from his wound.<br><br>Still, he lent her his support to get the movement started, hissing slightly at the pressure.&nbsp; He'd have to find a safe place soon.&nbsp; One of the inner-city Caves that Bruce was so sure he didn't know about, maybe?&nbsp; Bruce wouldn't be pleased if he brought the girl with him to one of the secret caves, but the alternative was that both of them bleeding out while they tried to find a shelter, "I know where we can go, but we need to move fast.&nbsp; These things aren't smart, but they're persistant..."<br><br>He gestured towards a lamp-post and began running as fast as he could towards it, helping her along the way.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>07-02-2010, 06:52:35</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Could she run on it? Well what choice did she have? It was either run or be eaten, so Sam was grateful to have Nightwing’s assistance. They couldn’t waste any time, either, running when Sam was at her best hadn’t done her much; jumping to the safety of the fire escape had been a good idea; but they were closer than she thought, and so paid dearly for it.<br><br>But it hurt; not nearly as bad as being shot had been, but a bullet to the stomach or leg or shoulder had been hot and quick, a constant ache. Not one that steadily grew more and more. Thankfully this wasn’t some horror movie where she would be infected with some strange disease that made her follow the same fate as these things… you had to be dead first. With how franticly her heart was pounding she was fairly certain that they were still alive.<br><br>So Sam ran, not looking back over her shoulder, intent on her footing and pushing past the pain to reach this post he indicated. Her apartment was a good distance away, she had been out searching for supplies and new there were risks, she just hoped this masked man had a better resource than she did.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>07-02-2010, 07:02:21</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				It would have been fair to be wondering what his goal was when he was pointing at a lamp post.&nbsp; But it would have been even more confusing once they got to the post and it became apparent that he was actually pointing towards a sewer manhole cover.&nbsp; Especially since the sewers had already been established by most people to be an unsafe place to hide.&nbsp; The things... whatever they were... liked to crowd in moist places.<br><br>He struggled to pop it open, his muscles becoming tense under the fabric of his suit as he strained to lift the heavy sheet of metal, "You first," he said as pushed the cover to his side, "But don't touch anything once you're down there!" he emphasized quickly.&nbsp; Rather than going down into the sewer, the hole seemed to be just that.&nbsp; A round hole about eight feet deep that went nowhere.<br><br>Nightwing stepped up and took a step backward from the hole to give her room.&nbsp; He looked as if he was about to fall over from the strain of his injuries.&nbsp; But it was obvious that he wasn't going down without making sure she was safe first, "Hurry up, please..."
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>07-02-2010, 07:11:51</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Was this his brilliant plan? The sewers? The thought made Sam sick though she didn’t voice her protest, she was concentrating instead on her footing and breathing. The woman stood at a solid five foot five. She was fae-like in her build and appearance, but strong all the same, and so offered Nightwing what help she could, before dropping down into the tunnel.<br><br>This time her hands were free, and so she smacked the ground to displace the momentum of the fall, and stumbled before falling on her ass inside the room. Sam made certain that she remained out of Nightwing’s way for when he followed after her. Don’t touch anything, he said. Well it was dark, she didn’t even know what was around her, though she had the sense that the room was enclosed, and she didn’t hear any heavy breathing other than her own… that was something.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>07-02-2010, 07:18:31</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				The landing of his own was surprisingly graceful for a man that was clearly dealing with a horribly disabling wound.&nbsp; He ducked and rolled into the manhole, and landed beside her without even touching her.&nbsp; The sound of his feet touching the hard ground the only sign that he'd even joined her in the very intimate space.&nbsp; For a second it seemed like this might have been the closest he had to an escape plan... lodge eachother in too tight for the zombies to get to them.&nbsp; As far as plans go... it kinda sucked.<br><br>Then he said the magic words that would make it all better.&nbsp; His heavy breaths and a soft groan as he leaned closer, so that his lips were almost right next to hear ear... his words in a soft, intimate whisper yet they were the loudest he could muster...<br><br>"Perrywinkle," he said.<br><br>Immediately as he finished the last sylable, the wall behind them burst away from them and slid to one side...
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>07-02-2010, 07:25:00</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Samantha allowed herself a precious few seconds to relish the safety. She could hear the creatures above by the manhole, their grunting and panting, but there was no way that they could move the manhole cover back themselves. It allowed her to sigh with relief. Of course, it was when she felt her breath come back to caress against her face that she realized that Nightwing was so close, and even then her reaction was a dumbfounded blink as he whispered the color.<br><br>There was a grating sound, a mechanical click, and the wall behind her head slowly slid open. Alright… so this plan was looking better. She still couldn’t see though. Sam licked her lips, and swallowed though her lips are dry. “Thank you.” And she meant it, trying to slow her racing pulse. But now that she didn’t have man-eating… things, after them, she was able to focus on the more important task; their injuries.<br><br>“Let me take a look at you.” She spoke up, pressing a hand on what she assumed was his arm. “I was a paramedic before… this.”
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>07-02-2010, 07:33:23</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				He pushed her past the openning and was quick to follow, more stumbling with her than actually walking in.&nbsp; A quick turn and a flip of a toggle, and the doorway slammed shut once more as well as several florescent lights chimed on throughout the room.<br><br>It was still small.&nbsp; About the size of a bedroom, complete with a set of bunk beds to one side, a computer was built into the wall next to it.&nbsp; There were shelves with what mostly looked like bio-hazard cans and ninja equipment and were the only thing that served to keep the toilet out of view of the rest of the room.&nbsp; Needless to say it didn't look especially homey, but there was power, and there was safety.<br><br>He stumbled his way towards the first aid kit.&nbsp; It wouldn't be the best patch job, but at least they could disinfect here...
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>07-02-2010, 07:41:49</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Nothing. Just a push that sent Sam stumbling forward in the dark, grunting softly at the sudden jolt of pain that came in her shoulder, rather than her leg, where the worst of her wounds were. No warning of light, either, leaving Sam blinking and blind as her eyes tried to adapt to the sudden flare. When she could see she looked around, still blinking as she tried to clear her eyes more.It was still far better than being chased by those freaks. Sam let out a sigh, turning to look at the man as he pulled out the first aid kit. “Lay on your stomach,” there was less room for argument with her tone, though it was still pleasant. “Let me take a look, we’ve got to stop the bleeding.” And as if to prove her point, Sam moved over the the kit, to take a look at what she had to work with. Needles, thread, alcohol... The basics, at the very least. They'd have to do, until they got back to her place. She was well supplied there.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>07-02-2010, 07:51:51</strong>
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				"On my stomach?&nbsp; On the first date?" he teased.&nbsp; At least he still had his sense of humor.&nbsp; No amount of pain was going to keep that away from him.&nbsp; It was going to take a lot more than the zombie apocalypse to turn him into his mentor, "Just be gentle," he joked, "It's my first time."<br><br>Clearly, even as far as his joke went, it was not his first time.&nbsp; There were scars and healed lacerations all over his back, even visible from the small portion that was torn away from the costume.&nbsp; This was a person who had taken an insane amount of punishment in his lifetime, and if the previous few minutes were any indication, then it had typically been in the service of helping others.<br><br>"What are you?&nbsp; A doctor?&nbsp; Nurse?&nbsp; Girlscout?" he querried, "Where did you learn how to handle this stuff?"
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				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>07-02-2010, 08:01:01</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Her lips twitched, a hint of a smile teasing the corners of her mouth, finding his sense of humor a relief. He wasn’t brooding or distancing himself… good. Sam didn’t need a dark shadow to talk to. It’s been weeks since she even interacted with another living being, she was savoring this moment, even under the conditions. They were safe, they had light, shelter, supplies… it was all that she needed. Sam was almost happy.<br><br>She helped Nightwing down on his stomach, before gathering up what supplies she had access to. The rip of his suit were folded back to give her a better view, and she straddled his leg, so that she could have the best vantage point when it came to stitching. For now, Sam cleaned the wound with a wet cloth, gentle with her motions, but making certain no foreign debris lingered. “Paramedic.” She answered, shrugging her shoulders softly. “Or at least, I was before all this started.”
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>07-02-2010, 08:12:01</strong>
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				"Paramedic," he confirmed, "I should have guessed that.&nbsp; That's what well balanced people do instead of putting on Bat-masks," he hissed a little as she cleaned the wound.&nbsp; It wasn't as painful as alcohol, but any contact with it stung beyond measure.&nbsp; He closed his eyes and let himself disappear beyond the pain.<br><br>He was swinging on a trapeze.&nbsp; He was flying.&nbsp; No limitations.&nbsp; The sound of elephants trumpetting and clowns dancing.&nbsp; Lions roar in the distance.&nbsp; A crowd gasps in anticipation as he defies death.<br><br>"Don't forget that wound on your leg," he reminded her.&nbsp; It wasn't likely that she was going to forget about that any time soon, but in the long run he'd prove more interested in making sure she was safe than himself.<br><br>He would also have to come up with a way to explain this to his mentor.&nbsp; That wouldn't be fun.&nbsp; Bruce was nothing if not notorious for his double standards... do as I Bat-say, not as I Bat-do...
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>07-02-2010, 08:24:09</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Once the wound was clean, Sam stopped the bleeding with applying pressure, before pulling out a suture. Stitches were needed to close the wound. There was just a problem of lacking morphine. However, some digging around provided a find of local anesthetic, which she applied around his wound. She cleaned her hands once more, and then pulled out the needle. “Don’t worry about me.” Because unless he knew how to analyze wounds… well, Sam wasn’t an owl, she couldn’t just look at the back of her shoulder. If she didn’t think about it, it didn’t hurt so badly.<br><br>She started about a quarter of an inch to the side of the wound before she started, pushing the needle into flesh, pulling it taunt, before knotting and continuing. Her lines were straight, minimizing the chance of scars. He had enough, by the looks of it the man was used to the hard life. She had scars of her own, though not nearly so many. “Thank you… I’m lucky you found me..”
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				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>07-02-2010, 08:35:05</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				"More I'm lucky I'm the one who did find you," he groaned as he moved away from her and took a position behind her to examine her wound in return, "Your odds of being found were pretty good between me, and Robin and Batman... Batgirl... Huntress... Commisioner Gordon's men.&nbsp; Hell, I heard even the Penguin is helping people," he took some of the alcohol and ran it over her her wound gently, "My odds of finding a paramedic, on the other hand," he counterred.<br><br>"You'll have to forgive me, this isn't going to be as professional as it probably should be.&nbsp; I know a little bit of field medicine, but I'm not exactly a doctor over here, alright?" he wasn't nearly as capable as she was, but he was a far cry better than just some boyscout who knew a little first aid...
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				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>07-02-2010, 08:40:18</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Alright, she wasn't as reserved as he was. When the man put alcohol on her torn shoulder, Sam yelped. It was embarrassing, she hadn't meant to, but it hurt, caused her eyes to blur with tears and the muscles in her back and shoulders to grow taunt. Alright... she could gave gone with a little more warning than that, but now that he was dabbing away she was getting used to it, and even managed to swallow between short, ragged breathes. "I-I suppose." She spoke through gritting teeth.<br><br>As for the patch job? Sam shook her head, waving off his apology. In this place, he was doing her a favor. Again she swallowed, trying to work herself through the pain, and nodded for no particular reason. There needed to be more talking. "I'm Samantha." She didn't expect an introduction back, you don't ask masked men their names.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>07-02-2010, 08:53:49</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				"Hello, Samantha," he said casually as he examined it to make sure that there wasn't any dirt in the wound, "In case you were wondering, I'm not Batman," he taunted.&nbsp; It hurt to laugh, but at least it reminded him that he hadn't yet blacked out from the pain of his own injuries.&nbsp; The open wound was just the most visible.&nbsp; While he didn't think anything was broken, he was pretty sure there were more than a few bangs and bruises that hadn't made themselves known yet.&nbsp; Zombies weren't the only things out there trying to take advantage...<br><br>"It helps to focus on a pleasant memory," he advised, "Something that really makes you feel alive.&nbsp; For me it's the circus," he figured that was vague enough to apply to several million people.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>07-02-2010, 09:06:09</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Did she have any pleasant memories? No. Not really. There were the hazy images of a complete family, but Sam had been young and they only made her chest ache with want. Pain took her away from pain, knowing that there were others out here suffering worse than she was. So it was justified, deserved… But it didn’t exactly make it easier. Sam had to bite her tongue to keep from whimpering, and swallowed once more, tasting the burn of bile on the back of her tongue.<br><br>“Never been.” She admitted. Talking helped… She had been alone for so long, she needed to socialize with another human being. Sam turned her head to get a better look at this Nightwing. He was handsome; you could tell even with the mask, and the suit he wore was painted on like a second skin; probably for easier movement, which in turn lowered his defenses. Dark hair; she wasn’t certain about the eyes, but a good voice, easy to listen to. <br><br>“It <em>is</em> Nightwing, right?” She licked her lips and turned her head away, closing her hands into tightly drawn fists. “I’m… not from Gotham.”
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>07-02-2010, 09:21:13</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				"Neither am I, originally," he admitted.&nbsp; Again, being somebody from outside of gotham who happened to like the circus didn't exactly spell out his name for her.&nbsp; But he was being open and social enough that it kept her mind off of the injuries.<br><br>"The bite wound is worse," he informed her with something of a grave seriousness, "I don't mean to be too forward with you," he warned, "But I'm going to have to take off your pants."&nbsp; He made the statement sound as much like a joke as he could, but being a paramedic she probably knew that he wasn't kidding.&nbsp; Especially with something like tight fitting jeans, they would only get in the way if he tried to do anything for her leg with them on.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>07-02-2010, 09:28:05</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Sam could only sigh. She expected as much… she <em>had</em> been there, after all. She wasn’t squeamish, Sam faced far bloodier things than being gnawed on by human teeth. It was just the fact that what had once been a person tried to eat her; and not in the fun, kinky sense that also involved taking off her pants. “You’re the first sane person I’ve talked to in nearly a month,” she confessed, standing. “And you’re telling me to bend over and drop the pants.”<br><br>Now she smirked, a lopsided tilt of her lips that favored once side of her face over the other. She kicked her shoes off, then released the restraints of her pants and pushed them off over her hips. Down they went to mid-thigh before she sat back down in her lacy blue boy-short panties. The jeans were finally kicked off, and now Sam winced. Blood coated her leg, and it was bleeding freely. She didn’t think that this was going to feel good.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>07-02-2010, 09:35:33</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				He didn't really have the energy to take a squat to work on her... so the position of compromise had to be sitting with her laying down over his lap.&nbsp; If anyone were to walk in on them right this moment it would probably look like he was attempting to administer a spanking.&nbsp; Only the seriousness of the wound kept him from cracking a joke or blushing about it.<br><br>"You ready for this?&nbsp; Happy thoughts, remember?" he said as he began dabbing the far more serious wound with thorough amounts of alcohol.&nbsp; It was enough to make the leg go shiney in the soft light, he could only imagine how much it would sting.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>07-02-2010, 09:45:10</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Was she ready? No. Pouring alcohol in an open wound was pretty far down on the list of things Sam was prepared for. But it needed to be done, there was no hospital, she –was- the emergency facilities for when things got bad. And if it hurt, she was just going to have to grit through it all.<br><br>So here was Sam, eyes closed, hands fisting into the sheets of the bed, concentrating on even breaths. In, hold it, out slowly. In, hold it again, and then out slowly. She was supposed to have happy thoughts, just like they say in Peter Pan, but there were no happy thoughts, just the pleasure in hearing another person’s voice for the first time in weeks.<br><br>And then there was the alcohol. Quickly followed by Sam’s bunching muscles, a soft squeak that was muffled against sheets; because she took to biting them. It hurt… a lot. It pushed tears in her eyes and for a moment the woman was going to fight him to get away. But… that wouldn’t help anything, and she really didn’t want to look like a fool. She probably looked enough like an idiot.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>07-02-2010, 09:59:52</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He was running on adrenaline, and he was coming down from that as he began to clumsily bind the wound with a bandage, "I don't trust myself enough to try and stitch it up," he confessed, "But I think this will hold until we can make a dash for a real medic tomorrow.&nbsp; I don't trust travelling by night," he admitted.&nbsp; It was out of character for him any time before the quarantine had gone into effect, "Those... zombies... are bad enough.&nbsp; But Killer Croc and the Man-Bat are out there, too.&nbsp; I'm not exactly in any condition to go up against either of them... let alone the Joker..."<br><br>Truthfully, he hadn't heard anything about the Joker, yet.&nbsp; But it was always better to just assume that he was out there.&nbsp; Never count out the most random of variables...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>07-02-2010, 10:08:16</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Did that mean that there was a medical unit out there? Sam hadn’t traveled outside of a three mile radius around her apartment, not knowing the city well enough to know where she was heading, and had no destination that seemed safer than where she was currently at. People were scared, they killed anything walking if they were jumpy enough, and since this catastrophe began, well… this was also the first time that she has heard or even seen one of those vigilantes.<br><br>So she wasn’t going to argue with him. Sam felt safe enough in his company, even as he bandaged the wound and spoke of those undesirable others. There was luck, at least, in that she hadn’t run into either of them. Sam released her death-grip on the sheets, and tried to relax. “It’s alright. I’m sure it’ll be fine.” At least disinfected, but damn she’s was going to ache in the morning.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>07-02-2010, 22:50:41</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				There was a bit of silence for a while as he tried to ponder their situation.&nbsp; Also while he was counting down the amount of time it would likely take before...<br><br>The computer screen in the distance popped into life.&nbsp; It was almost more like a shadow on the other side of the screen, as opposed to a face, "I'm going to assume that's you, Nightwing," a feminine voice chirped.&nbsp; There was a bit of a pause, "Am I interupting something?" the girl's voice asked as if mocking him.<br><br>"She had a wound," Nightwing deflected, "Is everybody else accounted for?"<br><br>"Batgirl and Huntress returned a few minutes ago.&nbsp; Robin and Spoiler are still out looking... probably because Batman is still out looking," she informed him, "You know he's going to be pissed when he finds out you showed somebody a Cave, right?"<br><br>"Robin and Spoiler will give up the ghost a lot longer than Him," the way he said 'him' was almost with reverance, "My options were bring her in here and patch eachother up and he's disappointed for showing somebody a trade secret... or she and I both collapse and die trying to find shelter.&nbsp; If he's going to be pissed, I figured I'd go with the option that left me alive to ignore the lecture," he stated.<br><br>After a moment he added, "Her name's Samantha.&nbsp; She's a paramedic.&nbsp; Once I get her somewhere safe she's more valuable than any of us are..."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>07-02-2010, 23:12:55</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It was nice that Sam had her face hidden. This meant that the woman whose voice came pouring out from the other end of the screen couldn’t see the sudden blush touching her cheeks. And those cheeks were hot; how ridiculous did she look right now? Sam made a soft sound, low in her throat, a protest of this whole damn day. It wasn’t happening… it couldn’t be. Wasn’t running for her life, and being bitten by those ‘zombies’ enough? Apparently not.<br><br>She shifted though, trying to make the position less of an embarrassment then it already was. There was no hiding who she was; the woman had a name, and would catch sight of branches from her elaborate tattoo that curved along her back and flank. So pretending she wasn’t the half naked woman, sprawled out on Nightwing’s lap wasn’t a possibility. “Damn it,” she cursed softly, not loud enough for the woman on the screen to catch.<br><br>But valuable? Hardly… Sam knew how to patch people up; she could perform minor surgeries and saved many lives… but it was her job. She was good at it, but she didn’t stop the crime or swing down from a cable to the rescue. She wasn’t a hero. Sam was just… Sam. It’s what she did.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>08-02-2010, 00:13:43</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"We have plenty of supplies," the female voice called back, "But another medic will be a welcome addition.&nbsp; When it's safer to travel, I'll coordinate some of Gordon's men to pick you up.&nbsp; Oracle out."<br><br>He gave Samantha a taunting patt on the ass to tell her she was okay to move, "Sorry about that," he appologized.&nbsp; Obviously he'd expected that somebody would try to figure out who'd accessed the remote Cave, but there was something especially embarassing about your ex-girlfriend catching you in a compromising position.&nbsp; Genuinely, he wished it had been Tim... at least then the worst he would have had to deal with was implied high-fives.<br><br>"You're as good as I can get you for now.&nbsp; You can have your pick of the bunks," he said gesturing towards the bunk beds in the corner.&nbsp; The entire small room had the feel of a bomb shelter designed for only a couple people.&nbsp; It had been made during Jason's tenure... which was probably one of the reasons Bruce didn't think he knew about it.&nbsp; They never talked about Jason's tenure.&nbsp; Never talked about Jason.<br><br>He began to remove the top portion of his cotume, revealing even more of the bruises and scars and marks on his back.&nbsp; Some freshly healed, some obviously very old.&nbsp; It would have been easy to assume the entire costume had been one jumpsuit, but clearly as he removed just the piece, it was actually an elaborately connected set of several pieces overlapping one another.&nbsp; Armor without any real opening in it...<br><br>Too bad it specified maneuverability over protection...<br><br>"I'm gonna see if I can't get something to patch this up with..."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>08-02-2010, 07:32:08</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Sam pushed with her arms, sliding herself out of Nightwing’s lap until her injured leg was able to touch the ground. Standing was easy enough, and so she eased onto her feet, thankful that the tears that stung her eyes were mostly gone. Samantha felt better, know that it was at least disinfected; though she had a feeling stitched would be involved in the end. Figures she would come out with a scar… That mean more were on their way.<br><br>Sam kept the pants off… moving too much would get the wound bleeding again, and the woman was, admittedly, exhausted. Her muscles ached where they were strained, and after the drop of adrenaline running through her veins, it left her feeling a little empty and weak in the knees. She was almost eaten alive, what had once been human literally bit a chunk out of her leg. She had every right to freak out, but Sam always reacted well under stressful situations. There was a little bit of a tremble to her legs, uncertain if they would hold her up for long, but Sam ignored it. She planned to be sitting, or laying down, so what was to worry? They were safe.<br><br>So Sam took the bunk that would normally be the most difficult for Nightwing to crawl into; the top. As he removed his shirt, it was obvious enough that moving was only going to get harder the more he moved around. Sam would have loved a hot soak in water… but so would everyone else in this damn city. She settled with seeking heat by drawling under the blankets, and rolling onto her stomach where it was the most comfortable. “What happens now?”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>08-02-2010, 09:50:50</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Now?" he repeated the last portion of her question as if he hadn't quite gotten that far into the plan.&nbsp; Because, well, to be entirely honest... he hadn't.&nbsp; He'd missed the rendesvous with Batman, which would have given him a ride back to the base-camp that they'd set up in the GCPD station.&nbsp; Saving the girl had slowed him up, admittedly, but with his injuries he'd have never made it to the rendesvous anyhow.&nbsp; And without saving her, he wouldn't have been able to treat them.<br><br>All around, it had been the right call.&nbsp; Still, Batman would find some way to make him feel like he'd messed it up.&nbsp; Sometimes he had to remind himself that he wasn't a little kid.&nbsp; Almost twenty seven years old and still worrying about what Bruce thought.&nbsp; The shadow of a father was hard to escape, he supposed... the shadow of the Bat... even more so.<br><br>"Now," he said again after he collected his thoughts.&nbsp; This time the word was accompanied by a shrug, "Now we try to get some rest.&nbsp; I know it feels kind of counter-productive since the Quarantine went into effect... but there's really nothing else we can do right now.&nbsp; Stressing about that's just going to mean there is less we can do tomorrow.&nbsp; And, you especially, people are going to need you."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>08-02-2010, 10:18:37</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Sam relaxed, the blankets up to the middle of her back, pale blue eyes slowly blinking as Nightwing’s thoughts filtered through his mind, collected, sorted and pushed away. She couldn’t imagine what they were; what would this masked vigilante be thinking? Before the Quarantine they were considered wanted by the police. She was lectured in a class about proper protocol when handling them, or dealing with the more dangerous crazies… and while this was her first time even spotting on, so far… she liked him.<br><br>He was honest, and that was refreshing. It was also refreshing to have contact with another person. Being alone for the past month had been hard, depressing, and now that he was here… she didn’t want to close her eyes and fall asleep. Would he still be around when she woke up? Sleep was inevitable, the more she blinked, the heavier her lashes felt, until they were fluttering and eyes were burning with the desire to keep them close.<br><br>“I’m tired…” She confessed, breathing slowly and deep before forcing her lips back open. Did she have a reason to tell him that? Thinking about it now made her feel a little foolish. Too late now. “But… Mmm. I’ve been alone for the past month… promise me you’ll be here when I wake up. Please?”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>08-02-2010, 20:16:30</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Promise he'd be here when he woke up?&nbsp; He couldn't help but greet that with something of a smirk, "Well, you know.&nbsp; I might run out to pick up an Egg McMuffin in the morning... stop at the coffee stand and pick up a latte and a paper.&nbsp; How do you think the Knights did against Metropolis, last night?" he taunted with something of a cavalier chuckle.&nbsp; It was the kind of sense of humor that you can only get from your childhood including you being dangled upside down from a giant Saxophone over a pool of pirahna's...<br><br>Seriously.&nbsp; Where was he gonna go?<br><br>He looked at her with a more serious look, somewhat reassuring, "I already told you.&nbsp; Can't let you go to waste out here..." he reminded her, "You're too valuable to leave behind, Samantha.&nbsp; Can I call you Sam?&nbsp; For the sake of time.&nbsp; Sylables can be expensive out here."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>08-02-2010, 20:54:16</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Sam passed a hand over her face in hopes to wipe the tired away. She succeeded in nothing more than easing a little of the ache from her eyes, though this didn’t last long until it was building up again. Really, she appreciated his sense of humor, but the man hadn’t been utterly alone for as long as she had. She never wanted to be alone; it terrified her, made her feel cold and numb inside, empty. But now here she was with this stranger in a mask, the first company she had since the beginning of this mess. She was so tired… but she was also afraid that when she opened her eyes next he’d be gone.<br><br>There was no rational explanation for this; just like children believed monsters were hidden in their closets or stuffed under beds, Sam was terrified that if she let her eyes off of him for one moment she’d be isolated again. Silly. Childish… But it was the truth.<br><br>She almost smiled, however, when he asked to call her Sam. She preferred it that way. Generally, she only allowed her mother to call her Samantha, and that was because she named her. She nodded in answer, closing her eyes. “Sam is just fine…”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>08-02-2010, 21:21:27</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Get some rest," he said calmly, reassuringly.&nbsp; Some people had a way of speaking to the soul.&nbsp; Conveying emotion, even without words.&nbsp; It was the one area in which even his mentor would have admitted that Dick completely surpassed him.&nbsp; A pretty girl could sleep comfortably in a room with Nightwing.&nbsp; She'd probably be going to bed with nightmares if Batman had found her...<br><br>He was, in deed, still there the next morning.&nbsp; Whether he'd simply woken up earlier than she had or hadn't gone to sleep at all was hard to tell, however, as he was foraging through the supplies on the shelf for a can-opener.&nbsp; Cold beans weren't exactly an ideal choice for breakfast... but given that it wasn't likely they'd find a Denny's open anywhere soon, Dick was perfectly content to make due.&nbsp; He was being quiet, but seemed to be generally aware when she woke...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>08-02-2010, 22:01:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Sam slept, and for the first time since this hell started, she slept deeply. No dreams, no nightmares or even a twitch. Sam hadn’t even moved unless it was the gentle curl of her fingers or the rise and fall of her chest. Even as she began to wake it was her breathing that came as the greatest change. Slowly it grew a little shallower, even, and then there was the flutter of her lashes.<br><br>Then Sam went still. For a few seconds she didn’t know where she was; this wasn’t her bed, this wasn’t her home… but the shuffle, the light, the chill in the room, it all came swarming back. Then there was the stiffness in her muscles, and the burning ache in the wound on her leg and the throb in her shoulder, which had grown stiff. A hot soak would do wonders… but it wasn’t an option.<br><br>Sam pushed herself upright, lifting her chest off the bed so that she could shift her limbs about and increase circulation. When she was up to is, Sam moved to sit upright, wincing a little at how stiff her opposing limbs where, but allowed her legs to dangle over the edge of the bed. What time was it? Did it matter? It was reassuring that he was still here, however… there was a lot of comfort in that. “How’s your back?” She asked, her voice a little hoarse from the lack of talking.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>08-02-2010, 22:06:17</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He acted as if he didn't even notice it any longer, "My back?&nbsp; Oh.&nbsp; I've had worse.&nbsp; I'll be fine," he said as if dismissing the question.&nbsp; Once he found a can opener he started to twist it across the food stuffs, "Your leg?" he asked about that one specifically because it had appeared to be the more severe of her injuries.&nbsp; Also, because her leg would be the part that prevented them from moving swiftly once they got back up to the ground.<br><br>"I hope you like beans," he said in a voice that suggested he would rather be eating anything else in the world right then than what he had in front of him.&nbsp; The Quarantine had cut the supplies from out of Gotham.&nbsp; Most of the fresh vegetables and meats had been stolen or destroyed in the riots... he probably wasn't the only one sick and effing tired of explaining away different flavors of barbecue beans as a different kind of meal...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>08-02-2010, 22:15:22</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				His response was a grunt; it hurt, her muscles were stiff and didn’t want to move the way she told them too, but bitching about it wasn’t going to change things. So he got the soft grunt and little else as she left the comfort of the bed to stand on the ground below. Sam began to stretch, slowly, carefully, limbering up. It was the best she would be able to do with the pain.<br><br>As for beans? Food was something you ate to survive. She could deal with eating whatever there was to spare. It had been what brought her out in the first place; Sam needed supplies. She had all the medical needs, just… no food. Though she wasn’t ravished, she wasn’t going to pass down the chance to get something in her belly. “Beans are fine.” Lucky she wasn’t allergic to anything. In this place, you couldn't afford to be picky.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>08-02-2010, 22:23:53</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"You have your choice," he presented two cans to her, each with a label that looked almost identical.&nbsp; Just a picture of beans with a spoon inside them.&nbsp; Only the text under the brand name was any different from the other, "Honey Barbecue... and Southern Barbecue..." he shrugged at the options, "I guess they must have been on sale.&nbsp; All Barbecue styles buy one get one free.&nbsp; Either that or my friend that stocked this place," he referred to Alfred as a friend.&nbsp; Even Bruce would grant the older man that much, "Probably thought it would be cute to fill it with some level of variety."<br><br>"Batman," he clarified with a chuckle, "Batman, he um... doesn't even pay attention when he eats.&nbsp; I'm honestly surprised there isn't cat food in here.&nbsp; That sounds like something my friend would do, just to lecture Batman later on his borish eating habbits."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>09-02-2010, 06:06:33</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The woman made an uncomfortable grunt as her knee popped and her muscles began to twitch in her leg. It felt as if she had just gone through a charley horse, but instead of one muscle cramping in her calf, it was a deep ache piercing her thigh. Walking would help loosen it up, so that’s what Sam did, moving over the Nightwing and the canned food, taking the first one her fingertips touched. She wasn’t particular, food was food.<br><br>“I have to admit… this is my first time meeting a vigilante.” Sam gave the food a stir, wondering if she was hungry, or feeling a little sick. “It’s good to know that you guys stuck around… I thought everyone left.” After a month of being alone, with the walking dead… well, you felt isolated.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>09-02-2010, 06:17:31</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Heh," Nightwing smirked.&nbsp; Good that they stuck around?&nbsp; As if they were going to go anywhere?&nbsp; He took a spoonfull of gross disgusting cold beans and chewed slowly, "You don't know Him," there was that reverance attached to the pronoun, "Even there was just one innocent left in Gotham," he said with pride and admiration, coupled with just a hint of possible jealousy, "The armies of Hell itself could come marching into this city.&nbsp; And you know what...?" he looked at her, the look in his eye was clear.&nbsp; Hero worship.&nbsp; The way a little boy talks about his father the fireman...<br><br>"I'd feel sorry for any demons that got in his way," he then shook his head, "And where he goes.&nbsp; We go.&nbsp; Every one of us would die for any innocent in this town.&nbsp; Without question," he said with a grave solitude, "But... Batman.&nbsp; They'll have to put him down a dozen times before he'd stop," it was a metaphor of course.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>09-02-2010, 06:29:28</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Well... he was right about that. She didn’t know him. Hadn’t she just said that? But, Sam was smiling softly with his admiration of the man. It left Sam feeling a little more secure, and Nightwing talking also helped distract her from tasting the beans. They taste of the can they came from. But… in these times, you couldn’t be picky.<br><br>She stirred the beans again, staring at nothing while he talked, listening to every word that slipped from his mouth. She believed him. This wasn’t brainwashed rabble. This wasn’t something said to inflate their own ego. He had risked his life to save hers, after all, even injured. He took her here, where it was safe and locked away from the things that tried to eat her for dinner. Sam was grateful.<br><br>“I already said thank you… But really I just want to say it again. I was starting to lose faith.”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>09-02-2010, 07:11:07</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"You don't ever have to say thank you," he said, letting the rest of the can of beans go to waste by setting it back on the shelf.&nbsp; It was bad form as far as supply rations go.&nbsp; But he really couldn't take another bite of beans for the ninth day in a row.&nbsp; Eventually those things were going to be able to find him by smell alone if he didn't find something else to eat, for crying out loud.<br><br>"But, for the record.&nbsp; You're welcome," he said patting her on the shoulder, "We'd better get ready to move.&nbsp; If Oracle's sending a pick-up, we don't want to keep them out in the open too long."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>09-02-2010, 07:19:47</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Half of the contents were gone; that was enough for her. Hungry or not, her stomach still felt sour from the whole experience around them, and so she set her can down before relocating her pants and stepping into them again. Her shoes followed, a little more difficult that the first since the way she had to bend irritated them greatly. But that was everything; except the messenger back that housed some medical supplies, which she had left at the ‘door’.<br><br>So what did this mean for the future? First she was completely alone… and now? Now it seemed like there were at least half a dozen others like Nightwing based somewhere in the city she hadn’t been able to reach until now. “I suppose I’m ready whenever you are… where are we going, exactly?”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>09-02-2010, 07:25:50</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Gotham Central," he answerred her question as he opened the door for her to pass into the tight space of the entraceway.&nbsp; He strained himself to help her up to the surface before climbing up and after her.<br><br>Even Nightwing had been expecting something a little more pedestrian when he heard there was a ride coming for them.&nbsp; A squad car.&nbsp; Maybe an armorred car, because of the fact that he had told her it was a medic that he'd found.&nbsp; But maybe she was more valuable than any one realized.&nbsp; The car that was waiting for them was black enough to almost seem like a void, even in the daylight.&nbsp; Standing in front of it, as if he'd been waiting there since the dawn of eternity... a single figure, tall and strong, cloaked in black.&nbsp; His eyes unfeeling slits as they looked down upon Samantha.&nbsp; The only apparent part of his face a stubble coverred chin that was decorated with tightly pursed lips.<br><br>Him.<br><br>The Batman...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>09-02-2010, 07:34:11</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				When Sam crawled out of their little shelter, it took her a handful of seconds to realize that he was there. And when she did, the woman actually jumped, taking a step back, and was thankful she hadn’t done anything further embarrassing. Like yelped out, or screamed, or gone wide-eyed and white in shock. And if she had? Would he be smirking or scowling?<br><br>Sam bit her lower lip, looking a little bashful as she lifted a hand, rubbing the back of her neck. Was Nightwing really going to get in trouble? With that though she shifted her eyes over to the man in black and blue, but she found that her pale blues were slipping quickly back over to Batman again. He didn’t seem to move, and found that she was actually frightened, more than she was of those Zombies.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>09-02-2010, 08:36:06</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Yeah," Nightwing answerred, "He gets that a lot."<br><br>Batman didn't seem especially interested in the joke.&nbsp; But, for whatever it was worth, he didn't open up with any scolding about comprimised security.&nbsp; He looked at the girl, "You're a medic?" he asked.&nbsp; His voice was like smoke over gravel.&nbsp; Barely a whisper, but louder than thunder.<br><br>"She patched me up," Nightwing vouched.<br><br>"Not what I asked."&nbsp; Batman never moved or changed his gaze while they spoke.&nbsp; He was locked on her, as if sizing her up... or stealing her soul.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>09-02-2010, 08:45:06</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Was it silly that she felt guilty? The way he looked at her made her feel like confessing, though Sam knew she didn’t do anything wrong. Right? Sam kept those pale blues focused on Batman, the muscles in her body growing further tense as they bunched, ready for some violent recoil to come on his end. He made her nervous, frightened… Why?<br><br>She didn’t back down at least. As much as she felt as if his gaze was pushing her across the road, further and further away, she hadn’t moved an inch. Most people backed down, she managed to dig her heels in. “I am.” Was? “I worked as a paramedic for Gotham Central, District 9.”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>09-02-2010, 09:08:22</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Good," was all that Batman offerred as a response before turning sharply.&nbsp; His cape billowed dramatically as he did so.&nbsp; In a quick metalic voosh noise, the top of the Batmobile slid forward, "A lot of people could use a medic," he informed her.<br><br>Nightwing looked as if he had something to confess to her as he helped her into the car.&nbsp; The two of them would have to share a seat, and given the already cramped nature of the Batmobile, it meant they were even more pressed together.&nbsp; Had they shared the same bunk in the Remote Batcave last night, they would not have been this close.&nbsp; Short of sex, it probably wasn't possible to get any more pressed together.<br><br>"During the first couple weeks, you probably knew that the infected were thought to be just... sick," Nightwing informed her, "Well.&nbsp; That meant when it really went down, the hospitals got the worst of it.&nbsp; You're... you're the first medic we've found amongst the survivors."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>09-02-2010, 09:18:42</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Oi…<br><br>When Nightwing settled in, Sam eased down carefully on his lap, knowing that the man would be able to handle her slight weight. It was… cozy, if she was looking for a polite term. She could certainly tell that none of that muscle was padding or products of the suit he wore, though when the suit had been removed earlier, she had a full view of that as well.<br><br>So here was little Sam. In the Batmobile. With both Batman and Nightwing acting as her escort to take her to ‘base’. So was what they said true? Certainly there were others who knew first aid, she couldn’t be the only medic who stayed behind… But maybe staying behind wasn’t the issue; rather survival?<br><br>Sam felt sick, feeling herself grow cold, fingers curling into Nightwing’s arm. “Are… there a lot of survivors? Has anyone heard –anything- about ending this?” 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>09-02-2010, 09:38:51</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Most of the GCPD made it.&nbsp; A few dozen civilians who were close enough to make it into the station during the opening days of the crisis," Batman said.&nbsp; Listening to it from him, he might as well have been listing off the names of the missing and dead, "We've been searching for survivors since then, but the process is slow."<br><br>Nightwing shook his head and glared a little.&nbsp; Only Batman could deliver information in the worst possible way to a frightened young woman in a crisis situation, "Didn't I tell you, he's a people person," he said.&nbsp; Instinct let him wrap his arms around her just for the sake of comforting her.&nbsp; When it came to empathy and interacting with another human being... certainly the younger was far more experienced.<br><br>"Better she knows what to expect when she gets there," Batman interjected, "What were you doing way out in this sector?"<br><br>"Had a run in with Croc," Nightwing confessed, "Got a little mixed up trying to get away from him."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>09-02-2010, 09:53:36</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Being encircled in his arms really did make her feel better. People needed touch to live, and it’s been a long time since she even shook someone’s hand. This was even before the crisis. So she welcomed it, savored it, and allowed herself a moment of blessed ignorance before it was taken away from her. Even as she did this, however, Batman was speaking, and Sam absorbed every word. What did she expect? And in truth… it wasn’t anything Sam hasn’t dealt with before. She -was- a paramedic, after all.<br><br>There was still a bone-chilling terror that kept the woman silent for a time. That meant friends; co-workers… people she knew had died. Again. Sam couldn’t afford to focus on that, not now. “So… are we talking dozens? A couple hundred? And what about supplies? I have a decent amount of supplies, but… not for mass quantities.”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>09-02-2010, 10:08:49</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Thirty five people," Batman responded, "Maybe forty."<br><br>Then they saw the smoke...<br><br>Batman growled.&nbsp; The GCPD building was burning.&nbsp; The outside of it strung with the bodies of the dead.&nbsp; Robin's cape hanging from the flagpole.&nbsp; Sprawled across the building in great purple and green were four letters and a shape.&nbsp; The letters spelled out "HA HA".&nbsp; The shape was a smiley face.<br><br>Survivors.&nbsp; Maybe forty.&nbsp; Maybe none...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>09-02-2010, 10:15:10</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Seeing the black smoke made her go rigid, knowing what that meant before she could even see the destruction. And when she did, Sam felt sick and wish she hadn’t. New in Gotham or not, you learned real quick who laughed in Gotham, and when to turn tail and run in the opposite direction. But even with that the woman wanted out of the car, to spring into action. Maybe forty people?&nbsp; She wasn’t confident that number was accurate any more.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>09-02-2010, 22:27:57</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It had obviously been too much to hope for that the Joker's absense had meant that he had been killed in the earlier stages of the Quarantine.&nbsp; The fires were still burning when the car stopped.&nbsp; Whenever the Joker had done this, it had obviously been since Batman had left to rendesvous with Nightwing and Sam...<br><br>There was a tinge of guilt in Nightwing's gut.&nbsp; If they hadn't needed a pick up... or if they'd tried to make the journey that night.&nbsp; Hell, maybe if they'd just gotten up to the Batmobile sooner.&nbsp; He and Batman could have been back in time to help.&nbsp; Maybe if he hadn't survived his injuries, Batman wouldn't have had to leave at all.&nbsp; If anybody would have been able to stop this, it would have been Batman...<br><br>When the car stopped the top of it slid forward.&nbsp; Batman growled out two simple words, "Stay here," before he lept out of the car and began running towards the fire.<br><br>Nightwing scooted out from underneath her, "He's talking to you," he clarified before getting out of the seat from below her.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>09-02-2010, 22:48:10</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Stay here? Was he serious? Sam couldn’t even get a word out before she was left alone in this tank, the hatch open and greeting her senses with the cloud of smoke. Sam didn’t remain there sitting. She reached up, and pulled herself up to stand on the seat, peaking out as the two vigilantes hurried towards the burning building. Sam made sure to look around, scanning for signs of any threats. Nothing. No Zombies, no madmen, no hungry dogs. Just a building on fire with a menacing message.<br><br>Sam vaulted herself out of the car. Sure, Batman said stay, but he didn’t say for how long. She landed on her feet, giving the area another glance over before she was making her way towards the building. As a paramedic, she knew fire well; it was the whole reason for her short hair. But she wasn’t going to sit around and twiddle her thumbs. Tax dollars at work.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>09-02-2010, 23:29:06</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"You know what the best thing about you is, Bats?" a familiar voice out of a nightmare cackled, "You always show up just when I start to think the joke just isn't funny anymore!" There was a piercing cackle followed by gunfire as the white faced man stepped gleefuly out of the fire as if it were just a decoration he needed to pass through.&nbsp; His clothes burning even as he walked towards them firing.<br><br>"It's the secret of Comedy, ain't in Mistah J?" a woman's voice said as she kicked Nightwing in the stomach.<br><br>"Right you are, Harl... TIMING!"<br><br>Even in the midst of an attack, Batman had already observed enough of the room to understand what was going on.&nbsp; This was a set up.&nbsp; In more ways than just the obvious.&nbsp; There were only a few bodies in the fire, most of them were hanging outside.&nbsp; Out of the dozens of people that had been here, there were maybe ten left... that meant the vast majority of them had gotten away.&nbsp; Joker hadn't attacked to murder them, but to scatter them.<br><br>What would be funnier than seeing Batman's face as he saw all the people he'd failed?&nbsp; Killing him before he had the chance to even try...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>09-02-2010, 23:52:51</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Sam moved quietly. The woman wasn’t overly strong, but grace was on her side as well as agility and strength. Adrenaline melted the pain of her injuries away, and now that there was a task set before her, Sam had more important things to concentrate on. She moved silently, used to the rough layout of the roads from the time spent here, and with her small frame, it was easy to pass by unnoticed while Batman and Nightwing dealt with the two clowns.<br><br>Her priority were the people. Stay in the car? Yeah right. Silently she moved in the shadows to reach a man who was groaning in pain, a bruise on his forehead, pupils dilated. Concussion. Sam didn’t speak, but flashed the universal sign of silence by pressing a finger to her lips. She worked on clearing the people away, moving them to safety that was away from the burning building. Some of those survivors were only stunned, and so were able to provide Sam the aid of leverage when they were forced to carry a body to the side.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>10-02-2010, 00:00:39</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Nightwing brought his palm up to hit Harley in the jaw before grabbing her arm and spinning her towards Batman.&nbsp; A stray bullet from Joker's gun hitting her solid in the arm, causing her to yelp in pain and fall backward.&nbsp; Nightwing cursed himself for an action that could have potentially resulted in the blond woman's death, seemingly more concern than her partner had for her, "Darn it, Harley... none of the bullets are going to get to Batman if you keep getting in the way like that!"<br><br>"Sorry, Mistah J..." she said with something of a submissive whimper before launching back to her feet with a clumbsy kick aimed at Nightwing.<br><br>The conversation was enough distraction in the rate of fire for Batman to leap from cover and place his hands on the gun.&nbsp; Joker had, apparently, been firing in the wrong direction for much of that time.&nbsp; Pulling hard on the gun, and countering the momentum with an elbow to Joker's face was enough to pull it away.&nbsp; He tossed it unto some burning rubble.&nbsp; Even if Joker was crazy enough to chase for it, he probably wouldnt' survive the search...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>10-02-2010, 00:15:55</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				There was no hesitation, no worried look over her shoulder even as the bullets rang out. Sam was used to working in these conditions, sporting a number of scars that spoke of her past dealings that didn’t end up as good as she would have liked. Still, in the end, she wasn’t terrified, and cared only about the wounded. Those who could move on their own she ordered to hide, but it left her with one badly wounded man who had one of Joker’s bullets hiding in his stomach.<br><br>Sam removed her shirt, kneeling in a pool of the man’s blood as she spoke softly to him, calming his nerves, and applying pressure to the wounds. She made him lay flat, one bloody hand pushing open the straps of her messenger bag. She ripped a package open with her teeth, applying a second pad of gauze over the wound to help staunch the bleeding. Soothing words continued to leave her mouth helping the man find calm. It was obvious to the both of them that he wasn’t going to make it.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>10-02-2010, 01:10:20</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Bats!" the Joker laughed through a bloody nose, "You cheated!&nbsp; Bringing in third helper... that's low."&nbsp; He seemed genuinely offended by the fact that it hadn't been Batman who'd carried the wounded and bleeding out of the building, "Game's over Harley!" Joker pulled out a grenade from his pocket, and tossing it out the door close to the crowd.<br><br>Batman and Nightwing both responded, both having conditioned themselves to move in situations like this without weighing any options.&nbsp; Every thought was a life on the line.&nbsp; But neither of them were the Flash.&nbsp; There was no making it to the grenade even as it passed both of them.<br><br>Closer to the door, Nightwing was the first one out.&nbsp; Batman shortly after him, having bounded across the room in almost a single leap.&nbsp; They got out just in time to see the grenade explode.&nbsp; Thankfully, the 'explosion' was just a pop with confetti and some fire cracker like sparklings.&nbsp; The explosion that came from behind them, however, was quite real.&nbsp; Nightwing had been far enough away to avoid it, Batman tumbled and grabbed Sam, wrapping his cape around her to shield her from the hot debris that flew outward...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>10-02-2010, 01:20:10</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Sam’s response? Well, it was her first ‘grenade’ experience, so the only thing she could do was drape herself over the dying man in an attempt to keep him clear of debris. Her own instincts were to rescue the wounded man, but in that moment she felt his lash breath shudder in his chest, exhaling bloody bubbles against her throat.<br><br>There was too much commotion after that, Sam wasn’t exactly sure who had her, just that she was surrounded by black and there was a wave of heat mixed with falling wreckage that were trying to find a flaw in Batman’s shield so that it would damage her bare skin. The concusion of the blast pushed her into him, both hands clinging in their attempt to keep herself stationary for him, but always mindful not to restrict his movements.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>10-02-2010, 01:30:20</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				After the explosion came the ringing silence.&nbsp; The timeless period of shock.&nbsp; Batman seemed to adjust to this period more quickly than anybody else.&nbsp; None of the other survivors had been far enough away and the explosion sufficiently planned that none of them were sigifigantly hurt.&nbsp; A few splinters, some bruises.&nbsp; Maybe worse injuries from the shockwave that Nightwing was in no position to diagnose.<br><br>Batman stood up and looked down at the girl, now at his waste, "I told you to stay in the car," he said with a sharp turn to get a closer look at the debris.<br><br>"Check for survivors?" Nightwing asked after he caught his breath.&nbsp; No matter how many explosions he saw, they were still a bit of a shock.<br><br>"Nobody could have survived that," One of the survivors said.<br><br>"We did," Batman counterred.&nbsp; The real meaning behind it being that the Joker could have as well.<br><br>Nightwing approached the half naked Sam, putting his arm around her, "Don't worry," he whisperred, "That's pretty much <em>Bat </em> for 'great job, rookie'."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>10-02-2010, 01:37:43</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				If this man expected her to whimper in response and apologize he was wrong. Sam pushed herself away from him, scowling with a hissed, “Fuck you.” Under her breathe. Yeah, he still terrified her, and she was grateful for having been saved, but she was covered in the blood of a man she hadn’t been able to save because of something as stupid as inadequate supplies. She could have made him stable. She could have stopped the bleeding and made him live. It wouldn’t be easy… but it was possible.<br><br>She picked herself up, standing on her legs which wobbled a little. Nightwing’s presence was welcomed, but as much as she wanted his comfort, she pushed away from him too. The man had been her first patient and her first loss in years. She didn’t want to be comforted, and as much as the touch felt good, Sam stood away from it, pale blue eyes narrowed. “Then what’s ‘Bats’ for ‘you’re not my boss, don’t tell me what to fucking do’?”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>10-02-2010, 02:05:59</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Nightwing didn't force the issue, letting her push away as much as she wanted.&nbsp; Everybody handled this kind of stress in their own way, and he knew better than to try and interfere with her own process.&nbsp; She'd just seen a man die, the kind of people that got used to that sort of thing were truly terrifying human beings.&nbsp; He looked at her in response to her question, "The closest equivilent in the language," he offerred, "Is calling yourself Nightwing."<br><br>Batman didn't even seem to acknowledge her cussing him out, or her emotional situation.&nbsp; Everything was professionally compartmentalized within him.&nbsp; There was nothing that could be done about the mistakes of a moment ago, other than not repeat them in the future.<br><br>"Gordon's still out there," he began, "And I didn't see Robin among the bodies," they'd only gotten to the first floor.&nbsp; The statement might have sounded a bit like optimism, but if there was one thing that the Joker would have made sure Batman saw it would have been the body of another dead Robin.&nbsp; Batman turned to Nightwing.&nbsp; Everyone else was just precious cargo at the moment, "We need to contact Oracle.&nbsp; Find out where everyone has scatterred to."<br><br>"We need to get these people to somewhere safe," Nightwing counterred.<br><br>"The two aren't mutually exclusive."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>10-02-2010, 02:30:58</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Well she wasn’t Nightwing; she didn’t want to be, either. Sam respect them and those like them, but she didn’t want to wear a mask or carry their burdens, the lost remaining medic had enough of her own.<br><br>The blast destroyed her bag, including what supplies she had in it. There went her shirt; not that she wanted to pull it on again, and there went water she could have used to give to the wounded. Now what? She didn’t do this waiting game very well. Ignoring Batman and Nightwing, she moved towards those survivors that made it, returning to the man with the concussion. She spoke softly so as not to give him any extra pain, checking his pupils, giving him instructions, before moving on to a man. He listened, but his eyes kept trailing down to her chest. Sam ignored it. Let him distract himself with a lacy blue bra, at least he wasn’t dead.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>10-02-2010, 02:39:28</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"There's another remote Cave about two and a half miles from here," Batman said to Nightwing.&nbsp; Neither of them seemed to be getting in Sam's way, and Batman didn't even seem to be noticing that the rest of them were there.&nbsp; Batman looked in the direction, "We'll go there and contact Oracle."<br><br>"Yeah, so I guess we'll all do our best Chinese Acrobat routine and stand on the back of the Batmobile?" Nightwing counterred.&nbsp; Batman wasn't amused.&nbsp; Arguably, Batman wasn't even aware that Nightwing had just let out a joke.&nbsp; Nightwing looked over at Sam and the survivors, "We can't go running off with them now.&nbsp; Sam and I will get them inside," he pointed to an apartment building across the streeth, then to it's second floor, "I'll keep an eye out for any signs of trouble.&nbsp; Besides, if any of our people were out when this happened, they might still come back."<br><br>Batman didn't even take a moment to think about it, "Fine.&nbsp; Don't move.&nbsp; And keep these people safe," he growled, turning to Nightwing with ferocity, "It's on your head if anything happens to any of them."<br><br>"Wouldn't have it any other way..."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>10-02-2010, 04:10:49</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Sam kept herself busy, letting the two vigilantes plan out their next move. There were wounded to tend to, and helping the survivors helped calm her spirits. This was the first time she got to interact with anyone for over a month; loosing her first real patient hit her harder than she was expecting. Sure, it was never easy... but Sam felt as if she was on the verge of tears, teetering on that fine line of emotional distress and placid nothingness.<br><br>A splint was created out of the tattered ruins of someone's spare shirt and broken wood; Sam used these to brace a possible broken arm until she was able to settle down more comfortably later with them, hopefully loaded down with proper supplies. The man with the concussion was checked up on between her patients, and it wasn't until the blood on her flesh began to dry that she felt the familiar warm trickle from her own wound. She had ripped it open again, probably when Batman had saved her from the blast.<br><br>Figures.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>10-02-2010, 11:37:02</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Nightwing was cautious about approaching her.&nbsp; Not only was she in the middle of doing important work... she'd already made a clear point that she didn't really want anything to do with costumed types.&nbsp; At least not at the moment.&nbsp; They'd each saved her life, granted.&nbsp; But, Nightwing knew he was also sort of a symbol of the type of person that caused things like this.&nbsp; Where there were costumed heroes, there were guys like the Joker.&nbsp; Killer Clowns, mutant crocodile men, zombies... these werent' the kinds of things people in Coast City had to deal with, he was pretty sure.<br><br>"We need to get everyone inside, when they can move," he said, tentatively, "That explosion was bound to have attracted attention.&nbsp; I don't want anybody out in the open if more of those things show up," he said.<br><br>"If there's anything I can do.&nbsp; Tell me," there was a brief pause, as if there was something more that he wanted to tell her.&nbsp; In the end, he kept his mouth shut.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>10-02-2010, 11:55:46</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He was stating the obvious. Sam grunted softly in response to Nightwing, her hands carefully brushing along a tear in an older woman’s arm. This wasn’t an injury gained from this particular attack, but one that was several days old and infected. She was afraid that the limb might need to be removed if it didn’t get proper attention. Now.<br><br>“No.” Her voice was bland now, void of emotion, her pretty face still splattered in blood but neutral. Even those large, expressive blue eyes were blank. Sam didn’t look at the man until her task was through. “There’s nothing you can do now, I’ve got it taken care of. But lead the way.” She nodded her chin forward as if to indicate the buildings he mentioned. She had every desire to get out of this place. God she craved a bath…<br><br>Her leg was in agony now, reminding her that she really did need to get stitched. But how the hell was that going to happen? A tired sigh left her lips, and to distract herself, Sam turned away, returning her attention to the only child in their company. She looked about 9, covered in dirt, looking a little wide eyed and frightened, and utterly alone. Sam waved her hand in a ‘come hither’ motion, and when the girl was close enough, Sam scooped her up and regretted it. With a grunt her shoulder reminded her of its wound and she felt her flesh rip. Too late now.<br><br>The girl remained in her arm; sitting at Sam’s hip as she made her way to the apartments. The others were able to walk, and followed their lead.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>10-02-2010, 12:13:50</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Just like stages of grief, there were stages to recovering from your encounters with a mask.&nbsp; Especially Batman.&nbsp; Nightwing had seen them all more than anyone else in the world.&nbsp; Hell, he'd lived them all more than any one else in the world.<br><br>Stage one.&nbsp; Overcompensation.&nbsp; You lose yourself in what you do.&nbsp; Refuse to admit your weaknesses.&nbsp; Shut everyone out.&nbsp; Do everything you can.&nbsp; To be <em>just</em>.&nbsp; <em>Like</em>.&nbsp; <em>Him</em>.<br><br>Sam was in that stage, now, he thought.&nbsp; He could tell by the way she ignored the injury with no other cause than to be strong for someone else.&nbsp; The way she ran herself into exhaustion without even thinking about herself.&nbsp; The way she casually dismissed any offer for help.&nbsp; The idea that just because you're the best qualified for something, that only you needed to carry the burden of it.<br><br>The strong ones eventually realized how stupid it was to deny themselves humanity, they went on to become great people.&nbsp; Commisioner Gordon.&nbsp; The rest... put on masks.&nbsp; Became arms of the Bat...<br><br>She was stronger than this.&nbsp; She had to be.&nbsp; He kept telling that to himself.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>10-02-2010, 12:24:36</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Sam carried the child to the apartments, but she wasn’t the first inside. By the time that Sam reached the main floor she handed off the child to an older woman who seemed to have bonded with the child. The man with the concussion was settled down in a unit down the hall, and Sam began raiding supplies in the rooms to help her finish up her task. Windows were locked and bard, linens were used for bandages, alcohol as disinfectants, and a man who was mostly untouched took the task of giving water to those who needed it.<br><br>It was through these rooms that Sam flittered about, handing out what aspirin she was salvage to those who could take it, and it wasn’t until everyone was settled down that Sam remembered about herself. She took the stairs to the next floor. Funny. Yesterday she was craving the company of a stranger. Now she was seeking solitude again.<br><br>She got pretty good with breaking into doors. There was no working plumbing, but Sam scored with finding a couple bottles of water, which she took out for later, and a Brita container, mostly full. Sniffing the water, it was stale, but not bad. After digging through a couple drawers, Sam located towels, and dipped a corner of one into the water before she started to clean the blood and gore off of her skin.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>10-02-2010, 21:46:37</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Even in the brightest daylight, he could watch her without being seen.&nbsp; This was the nature of his training.&nbsp; He could listen to the movements of everyone in the building, putting the picture together of exactly what the situation was.&nbsp; Heavy sighs of relief were completely different from the heavy breathing of panic.&nbsp; If people were spreading out that meant they felt secure and relaxed... humans instinctively clung together during times of fear.&nbsp; The fact that no one without a Batcave had bathed in almost a month helped things a little as well.<br><br>But Nightwing kept an actual visual presence only on Samantha.&nbsp; Still distant enough to avoid interupting her ritual.&nbsp; Especially since saying anything would result in the same jump reaction that everyone had when he or Batman did that.&nbsp; A jump reaction likely to further aggrivate her wounds.<br><br>Her skin was a metaphor, he reasoned.&nbsp; Beautiful and pale and smooth... but marred.&nbsp; Just like her.&nbsp; She was filthy, sweaty and grimey... by her own admission she needed a bath.&nbsp; But still, she was a gorgeous lithe young woman.&nbsp; The fact that she was enduring as well as she was, was also a testement to her soul.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>10-02-2010, 22:08:01</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It was refreshing. Not quite the scale that Sam was hoping for, but a pleasure none the less. It was one thing to have dirt coated on your body; and quite another to be caked in the blood of others. Maybe some would call it selfish, but Sam knew that if she allowed the stuff to linger any longer she was going to have an emotional meltdown. That couldn’t be afforded. So she’d take possible scorn over losing her cool disposition, and washed.<br><br>At first it was pink rivulets coiling down her skin, twisting around her limbs as if they were reluctant to go. Over time they began to drip clear as they washed away the blood and grime, revealing milky skin and the vibrant floral of her tattoo. In the process she had discarded her clothes, allowing them to sit in a heap near her feet. A clean towel was used to dry off, and after a moment’s hesitation, Sam used one of the bottled waters to dump over her head, her free hand twisting in her short locks to remove the blood from there as well.<br><br>She turned when she was through, savoring the sensation of being relatively clean. The last time that happened was when it was raining outside. Footprints followed Sam as she moved deeper in the abandoned apartment, finding one of the bedrooms. It was pure luck that she found some clothes; a gray hoody, which she collected, a woman’s cami that was one size too big. The pants fit, but the legs would be too long, and so Sam rolled them up until the bunched over the tops of her bare feet. She acquired socks and sat on the bed, allowing herself a moment of silence.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>10-02-2010, 22:25:02</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It was a rare and wonderous sight that could cause Nightwing to lose his focus.&nbsp; Her body, nude in front of him, finding some respit in the form of clean water running down her skin... suddenly all of his senses were on her.&nbsp; Blue eyes locked behind his mask, dilated slightly at the sight.&nbsp; A dryness slipping into his mouth, that caused him to lick his lips discretely.&nbsp; After a moment of realization, either of shame or respect, he turned away quickly.<br><br>Just in time to hear one of the survivors scream that 'they' were coming.&nbsp; If he was lucky that would just mean more of the walking shambles.<br><br>A settling footfall outside the room Sam had taken for her solitude and shower would have given away that she'd never been completely alone.&nbsp; Never without her protector, or her voyeur depending on her outlook.&nbsp; He could appologize later, now he had trouble to look into...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>10-02-2010, 22:36:52</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				No rest for the wicked, apparently. Sam winced as she heard the cry of the down stairs and immediately set to pulling on her socks and scrambled to get back into her shoes. It figured… Now that she was clean, she probably wouldn’t get to have it last long. That didn’t slow the speed in which she moved, however. Sam was hurrying down the stairs, thankful for the new burst of adrenaline that numbed the ache in her own wounds.<br><br>“Get everyone to the second level.” She instructed the man who was passing out water earlier.<br><br>“Shouldn’t we move everyone to the roof?”<br><br>“If there’s a breech, you have better chances jumping from the second floor than the fourth. Go.” She jerked a thumb over her shoulder, and that was apparently enough for him; with a voice fighting for control and confidence, he ordered the survivors up and helped those that needed it. Sam pivoted sharply and turned back to the stairwell where she called up. “Check drawers for guns!” Just in case.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>10-02-2010, 22:44:39</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Nightwing looked up at her.&nbsp; She knew her stuff.&nbsp; Common sense perhaps, to him, but things that showed a certain level of instinct.&nbsp; The ground floor was too unprotected.&nbsp; The top floor left them trapped, the only reason to go up there would be if they were awaiting a helicoptor... and they were certainly not expecting a helicoptor.<br><br>"Keep them safe.&nbsp; No harsh moves.&nbsp; Remember that a gun might be more dangerous to themselves than the things," he said.&nbsp; Nervous people with firearms tended to have itchy trigger fingers.&nbsp; There was a chance she'd have to repair even more injuries... inflicted by untrained frightened people firing weapons they weren't trained to use.<br><br>"And... let me do my job," he smirked.&nbsp; The same kind of answer she'd yelled at him and Batman when she had pushed them away to treat the wounded.<br><br>With a leap he was down to the first floor, then out the door.&nbsp; He moved with dancelike grace when he was fresh.&nbsp; Even with the obvious pain of his would that a medical trained woman could likely notice, he was an acrobat.&nbsp; This was not a warrior enterring the fray.&nbsp; This was an artist painting a canvas.&nbsp; A poet spinning words.&nbsp; It wasn't melee.&nbsp; It was art.<br><br>Violent.&nbsp; Unforgiving.&nbsp; Art.<br><br>The titanium rods flew mercilessly into the skulls and legs of thing after thing.&nbsp; Splatters of blood and bone flying like flung paint off a brush.&nbsp; Yet it was clear that he regretted each one that he had to take down...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>10-02-2010, 22:58:51</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She was best at defense. Sam knew how to throw a bunch and to take a hit, but entering the melee wasn’t something that had really crossed her mind. Nightwing was the fighter, Sam was the healer, and it was those protective instincts that Sam remained at the door. It wasn’t that she doubted Nightwing’s abilities; the man was graceful with violence. He made the most primal thing look elegant, rather than savage and harsh. There was something almost threatening about that.<br><br>No. She didn’t doubt him. If there –had- been doubt it all washed away seeing him in action. But she tried to keep an open mind; what if one broke through? What if more were on their way? What if that wound handicapped the hero? She would do what she could to help; but Sam was willing to act as that barrier… just in case.<br><br>Still, this was exciting. The man seemed to know just where to kick, twist and punch. These weren’t the cleverest of foes, but where they lacked in cunning they made up in determination. She kept her eyes scanning the roads for any sign of movement.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>10-02-2010, 23:12:57</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It might have looked like he was being showy, or flamboyant.&nbsp; But there was never a wasted movement.&nbsp; Every strike landing exactly where he wanted it to.&nbsp; He was used to facing large numbers of foes.&nbsp; Typically they were better armed than this.&nbsp; Some of the things moving towards him were already starting to fall apart.<br><br>What they had was numbers.&nbsp; He'd fought gangs.&nbsp; He'd fought huge groups of henchmen.&nbsp; But he'd never had to hold his own against a legion.&nbsp; Every shamble for a ten block radius seemed to be moving in on them at this exact moment.<br><br>He wasn't exactly displeased by the streak of ebon metal plowing through some of them and coming to a stop.&nbsp; The top of the batmobile flashing open and Batman moving in a blur.&nbsp; It looked like one single flip of his wrist sent out five batarangs in different directions.&nbsp; Each of them planting into the skull of a different zombie and each of them exploding in a small blast that took out the ones around it as well.<br><br>Sure, if anybody could make the artist look bad... it was the man who had it down to a science.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>10-02-2010, 23:20:06</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				This wasn’t going to work. She was sure that Nightwing, and the new arriving Batman would realize it, probably even before she had. The building just wasn’t made for defense; what they needed was a warehouse, something that would hold up against swarms of undead. Luckily Gotham had plenty of warehouses to establish such a base; and with water at their backs, they could at least focus their defenses to their flanks and front.<br><br>Sam was uneasy. Intuition or just the lower amounts of adrenaline pulsing through her veins, but it was sickening to see that there were more dead than alive in Gotham. How had she even survived this long on her own? She looked over her shoulder to the stair well, then back to the fight at hand. At least she was as safe as she could be now. The wounded have a medic, the medic has her heroes… now what?
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>10-02-2010, 23:27:10</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				There were as many differences between Nightwing's and Batman's style of combat as there were similarities.&nbsp; The form was primarily the same.&nbsp; The moves were all there.&nbsp; But with Nightwing it was all intuition and emotion.&nbsp; With Batman it was as if he just knew.&nbsp; With Nightwing it was poetry.&nbsp; To Batman, it was math.<br><br>The shambles started to die out.&nbsp; Pun intended.&nbsp; There were fewer of them coming now.&nbsp; This busy part of the city shouldn't have been surprising that it had been hit especially hard.&nbsp; Batman and Nightwing looked at eachother with the same thought.&nbsp; Somewhere protected that was outside the depths of town was easy enough to think of...<br><br>They needed to get to Wayne Manor.<br><br>The lonely little child from before came running up to Samantha and sobbing into her chest.&nbsp; Gripping her tighter and tighter as the fight progressed.&nbsp; He didn't seem to stop crying, even after the zombies were all laid down, "The nightmare man is back," the child whimperred...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>10-02-2010, 23:35:45</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Sam turned around at the sound of footsteps; the soft patter told her who it was, even if she didn’t know the child’s name. “Whoa, hold on there honey.” Sam dropped to a knee, blocking the carnage at her back from sight, and pulled the girl into a hug. Her hiccups and sobs caused Sam’s heart to lurch, and gentle fingers pushed away the tears streaming from her eyes as she clutched at Sam.<br><br>“Nightmare man?” What was she talking about? Sam looked over her shoulder to Batman and Nightwing, who looked to be disengaged at the moment. Then it dawned at her, and Sam looked down at the child again. “He won’t hurt you.” She soothed, brushing her hand over her forehead to reassure her. Nightmare man. Perhaps the child was just scared of Batman? He certainly scared her.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>10-02-2010, 23:45:05</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The child seemed unconvinced, "Of course he'll hurt me!" he whimperred and gripped tighter.&nbsp; His arms seemed somehow bigger than before, "He always tries to hurt me!" the child started to yell in protest.&nbsp; His voice changed slightly.<br><br>Then it became so much more progressive.&nbsp; A nightmare in it's own right as a young boy began to melt away, his face bubbling and reshaping as he increased in size.&nbsp; Skin ripping apart like clay and colors bleeding away.&nbsp; First to the dull subdued gray and slowly into the gross mud color that belied his form.&nbsp; Tendrils burst forth knocking everyone back and away from Samantha.<br><br>"They always try to put me away!" he said disturbingly still in the voice of a child.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>10-02-2010, 23:54:11</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Sam began to wince as the child’s grip tightened, her brows furrowing as confusion flickered across her face. Pale blue eyes blinked rapidly, trying to come to terms with what was going on. But her confusion only grew as the voice wavered and the change began, Sam’s most logical response was to scream. So she did, a short, sudden expel of sound as she pushed at the child growing and expanding in form, doing little more than stumbling backwards and further out of the building before his weight and size rooted them to a stop.<br><br>Sam really didn’t have a clear idea on what was happening. She was new to Gotham, and so her first thoughts weren’t “Clayface” but rather some possible side effect to whatever was going on. She twisted and struggled to break free, looking over her shoulder with another cry. “Nightwing!”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>11-02-2010, 00:17:41</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Even though she had only called one name, both of the crime fighters looked up and began to dash towards her.&nbsp; Batman through the front door while Nightwing leapt upward and scaled the face of the building with nimble ease.&nbsp; Neither of them were aware what they were heading into, however.<br><br>Nightwing was about to crash through the window only to be met with a flying brick wall that seemed to careen out of the window like a train.&nbsp; Batman was met with a similar wall at the doorway into the room.<br><br>For the moment, at least, Samantha was trapped in the room with the monster... several innocents... and nary a hero in sight.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>11-02-2010, 00:26:31</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Some people found fear irrational. Sam figured that it varied from person to person. For her, fear wasn’t a new emotion. She was scared. All the time. Of being alone. Or losing everything again. Of losing herself. So when she found herself in the clutches of Clayface, twisting and unable to break free, she was comforted by the only familiar presence in that moment. The fear trickled down her spine like drops of ice water, shortening her breath until it came in frantic, short bursts.<br><br>“Let go.” She tried to reason, sounding more calm than she felt, or that the reactions of her struggling body suggested. It never hurt to be polite after all. Was it silent in the room? Were those trapped in the floor above screaming? All Sam could hear was the rushing of her own blood through her veins, her gasps, and then another shrill, uncertain cry for Nightwing.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>11-02-2010, 00:35:53</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"I'm coming!" Nightwing shouted.&nbsp; It was muffled through the wall and the layers of clay between her and freedom.&nbsp; But it was loud enough to rebound like a beacon of hope, "I'm always coming!" he screamed back to her, even as what had been a brick wall began to crush the life out of him as an emormous hand.<br><br>"Don't worry," Clayface said.&nbsp; Still disturbingly in the voice of a young child, "They won't come.&nbsp; But the fact that they will, means you're more valuable than I thought," he grinned and a part of his body began to open up to swallow her into him.&nbsp; The pressure sucking over her entirety like quicksand absorbing her into oblivion...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>11-02-2010, 00:45:15</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Fear was one emotion she was used to, but there trembled a fine line often unseen that lead to a person’s greatest enemy. Panic. Sam could hear Nightwing’s voice, and with it came a strong pulse of courage and hope; because she believed him, without a doubt. She was fine then, but as Clayface spoke, Sam found herself sinking impossibly and that foreign sensation led to her scream.<br><br>She hated screaming. She hated being helpless and feeling overwhelmed by it. She hated that she couldn’t break free and in her panic tears were blurring her eyes and beginning to tangle in the thick lace of her lashes before splattering on her cheeks. And she hated that she had to depend on someone else to rescue her, because the woman was sinking fast. Legs, thighs, hips, waist, chest. The medic whimpered as she tilted her head back, she filled her lungs with air, and then found nothing but black.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>11-02-2010, 00:50:27</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Are you okay?"&nbsp; Nightwing's voice asked as he tapped her into wake.&nbsp; They were in somewhere different.&nbsp; Somewhere very different.&nbsp; It looked like Gotham park.&nbsp; Still pristene and green and lush even in the apocalypse.<br><br>Batman was standing nearby, but other than that, they appeared to be completely alone.&nbsp; Clayface was gone.&nbsp; The sun was lower in the sky.&nbsp; Clearly at least a few hours had passed since the ordeal in the apartment building, "The Joker and <em>then </em> Clayface..." Nightwing joked, "You're off to a pretty big start, aren't you?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>11-02-2010, 00:59:31</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				First she realized that she was thinking; next she could hear, and it was only then that Sam was aware that she hadn’t been aware at all. Those thick lashes fluttered as that familiar voice spoke close by, and his hand touched her shoulder, jarring her vertigo. She wasn’t sinking any longer; no, Sam was rather stationary, sprawled on her back, looking up at the cover of trees above her. Fine brows pinched in confusion before her eyes fluttered and closed a moment.<br><br>What the hell happened? Again Sam opened her eyes, moaning as she lifted a hand to pass over her face, forcing those pale blues open once again. He was talking but she needed a few moments to make it register. The relief on her face was clear when she saw Nightwing, and even Batman. Testing for damage she sat upright. There was a little tilt, but it was fading just as she noticed it.<br><br>Sam looked around as she was even more confused with their setting. They had moved to the other end of the city. “What’s… what happened?” Again she lifted a hand to her face, cupping a palm to her temple before looking around, feeling her heart speed up with the missing element. “Where… where did…”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>11-02-2010, 01:16:31</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Clayface got away from us," Nightwing confessed.&nbsp; He seemed to genuinely lament that fact.&nbsp; As if that, in itself, was an enormous failure.&nbsp; He frowned as he tried to give her a moment to let each portion sink in, "He... Clayface killed all the other survivors."&nbsp; Again another pause.&nbsp; That part, he obviously believed was going to hit her especially hard.&nbsp; After a few minutes he added quietly, "Batman and I caught up with you here.&nbsp; We stopped Clayface.&nbsp; For a minute there we thought that we'd lost you."<br><br>The entire time, Batman was as quiet and reticent as he had always been.&nbsp; Keeping an eye out on the distance.&nbsp; There didn't seem to be any of those creatures in the park.&nbsp; Which was, in itself, something of a mystery.&nbsp; But at least everything was very quiet...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>11-02-2010, 01:23:42</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It hit like a sledge hammer to the face. Had Sam been standing she wouldn’t have stood for long. Even now, sitting, she felt her knees go weak. The woman turned to look away, throat tightening and itching with emotion, and it was in vain that she swallowed it down. All she felt was empty, as if she had failed. “W-Why?” She croaked, trying to force the words out. Slowly she shook her head and felt the first tear break free. “What… what –for-?!” A little more hysteric, but Sam even made that seem calm.<br><br>The hand dropped to her chest, pressing over her heart as she cursed softly, trying to slow it down. Slowly she shifted to her side, feeling sick. Bile burned the back of her throat but nothing more than a few strained tears came. If it wasn’t zombies, it was the crazed villains. But why kill the survivors? What was the purpose for that? And what did that mean? Were they the only survivors left in Gotham?
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>11-02-2010, 01:29:40</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"He didn't have a choice," Batman counterred, "We were closing in on him.&nbsp; He knew that would slow us down."<br><br>It was an odd way to say it.&nbsp; Making the entire thing seem like it was the fault of the three people standing here.&nbsp; Not the fault of the shape-changing monster that had attacked them.&nbsp; Nightwing cradled her closer to him, the strength in his arms being offerred as a comfort, "He's gone now, though.&nbsp; You're safe.&nbsp; We can continue looking for survivors in the morning."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>11-02-2010, 01:35:40</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				And there was that sense of touch again… Sam clung to him, feeling that fine tremble start from her bones and worked its way out from there. Here was the curse of being the healer; her heart wept for those who were killed in the end. Sam hadn’t known any of them, but she felt responsible for their behalf. First it was the man with the belly wound. Then it was everyone else. She was supposed to keep them alive. They were supposed to save them. And in the end, they all failed.<br><br>Sam didn’t pull away from Nightwing. Both of her hands clutched him as if she were afraid she’d be pulled into the ground. With no loose fabric to hold onto this left her wrapping her arms around his chest, pressing her cheek against the Kevlar weave near his shoulder. The woman wasn’t hopeless… things just didn’t look bright right now. “Where are we going?” She finally whispered, her voice starting to lose that calm.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>11-02-2010, 03:54:29</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"We should be fine here, for the night," Nightwing informed her.&nbsp; It probably seemed odd.&nbsp; There wasn't any particular shelter to speak of here.&nbsp; Granted there were none of the zombies, but hadn't Nightwing said that there were far worse more deserving of their fear.&nbsp; He held her tightly and helped her to her feet.<br><br>There was definitely something very soothing about the plants around them.&nbsp; They were exotic and beautiful.&nbsp; The park had become very overrun in a very short amount of time.&nbsp; The Park had become a veritable Eden... the rest of Gotham the wasteland outside.&nbsp; There was very little wind, but what there was was apparently enough for some of the flowers and leaves to sway softly.&nbsp; Dancing hynotically around them.<br><br>Yes.&nbsp; This was somewhere safe.&nbsp; This was somewhere beautiful.&nbsp; This was somewhere they could remain for the night...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>11-02-2010, 04:08:44</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Sam found her footing to be a little rocky, so she remained close to Nightwing as they stood, leaning against his chest for the support he offered. The shock of everything was still there; but the woman really did handle stress and chaos better than most. Those slow tears remained but the emotions were turning numb and her body was growing a little cold. Was it the slight breeze? Shock? Nightwing was warm, and she didn’t look for an excuse to step away to stand on her own; Sam wasn’t certain if she could.<br><br>The plants were beautiful, reminding her of the tattoo on her side that touched her shoulder and coiled down one butt cheek to her thigh. Vibrant, beautiful, the sort of setting you would expect to see fairies or fire-flies at. She looked around them but remained close, willing to follow their lead.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>11-02-2010, 04:23:17</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The entire environment seemed like something out of a romantic painting.&nbsp; Real places like this couldn't possibly have existed.&nbsp; So maybe she was dreaming when Nightwing brought her close to his face.&nbsp; So close that his lips were just barely touching hers, "We thought we'd lost you," he said with passion and desperation, "Don't ever let us think that we've lost you again."<br><br>"Promise us," Batman said.&nbsp; For the first time expressing something akin to a human emotion.&nbsp; A kind of appologetic sorrow as he reached out and placed his hand upon her shoulder, squeezing it ever so slightly at the exact moment that Nightwing pressed his open lips firmly against hers to drown out her ability to reply.<br><br>Her protectors.&nbsp; Her dark knights...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>11-02-2010, 04:33:05</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Sam blinked. Her heart skipped before it stopped completely, and even for that still moment she stopped breathing. No one ever spoke to her like that before; not with that level of passion. Confusion passed over her face but it was more startled. Her pupils dilated as his faced inched so close, and it was only seconds later that she could breathe again. Slowly she blinked, lips parted, frozen in his arms but not like a trapped hare in the clutches of a fox. This was… she didn’t know.<br><br>Was she dreaming? Had she hit her head? How could he be so worried about her? Sam licked her lips, making a soft sound low in her throat before Batman’s presence sprouted behind her and for the first time she felt him reassure her, touch her. She would have looked over her shoulders if she could, to apologize to the both of them for making them worry. She hadn’t meant to, and now that she realized that she had, Sam felt terrible.<br><br>And then Nightwing kissed her, and once more her heart was hammering against her chest, her breathing was coming in quick pants, and both eyes were open wide in surprise. It was her first kiss… and Sam felt herself melting even without meaning to. A soft sound trickled from her throat as her knees turned to over-cooked noodles, the only thing keeping her upright were their bodies and her hands, which gripped his forearms tightly. And then she shivered against him, eyes dropping closed as she breathed in slow and deep through her nose, pressing her lips firmly to Nightwing’s. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>11-02-2010, 04:42:40</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Nightwing's lips split as she pressed hers into his.&nbsp; For a moment just sharing breath, then tentatively at first... he let his tongue slide past the barrier between them.&nbsp; Behind her, Batman fell to his knees as if in prayer, worshipping her.&nbsp; His arms wrapped tightly around her waste as he burried her face into the small of her back.<br><br>Both of them had lost so much that day.&nbsp; Failed so many people.&nbsp; She was the one thing that they'd managed to save... the one thing that was left for both of them!&nbsp; The younger man's hand cradled her head for the kiss, the older man's arms squeezed tightly.&nbsp; As if both of them just needed to hold her.&nbsp; As if she were the anchor that kept them from drifting off into oblivion.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>11-02-2010, 04:53:29</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She’s never felt this before, this sense of being needed. It was overwhelming. The man who scared her clung to Sam’s back as if begging for her forgiveness, and Nightwing was doing things with his mouth that made her light headed and weak. There were no thoughts of wrong; the woman ached for a connection with someone, several times she thought she was alone. They all lost so much, and now, finding safety… why not?<br><br>Why not forget, seek distraction, and fight for balance? Why not? Sam released a trembling breath against Nightwing’s mouth; one of her hands lifting to cup the side of his face, the other dropping and reaching down to Batman, offering him what comfort she could in just the soft touch of her fingers. She ended up turning her head, gently breaking the kiss as she gasped for breathe, unable to focus her eyes so that she could see them. It felt as if she had just run a mile at her best time. A pink tongue flicked out, tasting her lips and savoring the lingering moist from his kiss.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>11-02-2010, 05:01:47</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Thorned vines and yawning flowers seemed to sway softly in the warm breeze.&nbsp; Dancing.&nbsp; Watching them.&nbsp; A silently all seeing army of voyuers filling the air with their fragrance, as if to encourage the three of them.<br><br>Batman's hands moved under her sweater, onto her bare stomach and the thick texture of his gloves ran against her soft skin, "Forgive us," he pleaded, "Save us," he begged.&nbsp; Whether he was talking about what happened at the station, or losing her to Clayface was nearly impossible to tell, particularly in a moment so devoid of logic and so full of passionate emotional rashness.<br><br>The younger man's hands ran forward over her body, moving to her back almost parallel to his mentor's hands on her stomach.&nbsp; They completely surrounded her, and simultaneously their hands moved towards the sky, lifting the sweater off of her body...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>11-02-2010, 05:10:29</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Sam whimpered. It was a helpless sound but by the way it escaped and the way her eyes fluttered it was obvious that she was… conflicted. Shouldn’t this be wrong? She didn’t exactly want them to stop. Inch by inch that shirt lifted higher and higher, exposing her flat belly and the ink of her tattoo. Their touches caused goose bumps to freckle her skin and a shiver arched her back just as she was forced to lift her hands a little higher over her head.<br><br>“Wait…” She whispered, slowly shaking her head even though she really didn’t want them to stop. It was all overwhelming, and she winced as if their touch hurt. In fact, it was chasing the chill from her body, making her shiver even as heat crept into her. “Wh-…” Her head tilt back slowly, and Sam released a long, slow moan as the shirt was finally pulled free. What was she going to say?
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>11-02-2010, 05:17:47</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				A gentle push from Nightwing sent her backward into Batman's waiting arms.&nbsp; Now nightwing's hands joined his mentor's on her stomach, but moving in the opposite direction.&nbsp; The Dark Knight craned his masked face around to press his lips into hers.&nbsp; His kiss was stronger than his protoge's certainly filled with more authority, even if less emotion.<br><br>The younger man's fingers intertwined the belt loops of her stolen jeans and unbuttoned them, unzipping them with his thumbs and slowly sliding them down her legs.&nbsp; His lips found her stomach, just under the navel.&nbsp; Trailing kisses along the ink of her tattoo.<br><br>The flowers watched them.&nbsp; The smell of roses and lylac and grass filling the air over the scent of their own pheromones.&nbsp; A soft gentle swish of the leaves accompanied Nightwing's completely liberating her smooth legs from her pants.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>11-02-2010, 05:27:25</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She tried for reason… really. This felt wonderful, but it’s been so long that it was also overwhelming. What defense did she have when she was pushed back? Batman’s arms were there, catching her before she could hit the ground. “Wait-“ And then he kissed her. Batman… It did strange things to her, tightened some low in her tummy, made others weak and fluttering franticly. She could only moan for a moment, head tilting back as Nightwing began to undress her, and even still she slowly tried shaking her head, to slow it down.<br><br>Did she really want to? No… not really… but Sam wasn’t used to losing control. She wasn’t used to giving herself to anyone, and in more than just physically. Sure, she wasn’t a blushing virgin… but these men made her feel like it.<br><br>Her panties were gone; left in the ruin of the apartment where she had dressed. The bra was gone too, though the cami she wore provide enough support for her modest chest. The sudden rush of cooler air on her nude skin released another shiver, and this time she mewled against Batman’s mouth as she reached back, pressing a hand against his cheek while she tried to pull away once more, to stop this.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>11-02-2010, 05:32:36</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The younger man leaned in while his hands spread her legs apart.&nbsp; Once again he demonstrated a more emotional kiss, full of vibrance and passion and desire.&nbsp; This time between her thighs.&nbsp; His lips fell upon her sex with a longing pressure, a kind of worshipping reverance for that which marked her as a woman.<br><br>Meanwhile, the older man's teeth sank softly into her bottom lip, holding her there while he began to pull the undershirt up from her wast line.&nbsp; One strong gloved hand pressed firmly into her left breast to send her heartbeat through her entire body even while his kisses began to trail closer to her throat.&nbsp; Planting another soft bite along her neck, right at the pulse, before kissing it as well.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>11-02-2010, 05:39:13</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				They weren’t stopping. Had they heard her? Did she speak up? Even as she tried to shake her head the men continued on, and when Nightwing’s mouth found her, she cried out with a mix of pleasure and surprise. Now she strained against Batman, her eyes open although blind, suspended between the both of them. “Oh god!” She whimpered, fisting a handful of Batman’s cape as she arched from Nightwing’s mouth. The cami slipped up and exposed her perk breasts, nipples tight with their desire for the two of them.<br><br>Batman nipped, and she lost all hope for reasoning. It sent her writhing in the man’s lap, grinding against the armored bulge as if encouraging all of him to come out and join with her.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>11-02-2010, 05:49:26</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"You're a woman," Batman said as he let his cape fall back from him and onto the grass behind them.&nbsp; The belt was the next thing to go, "Maybe the last one on Earth.&nbsp; But there's still this.&nbsp; This moment," his gloved hands found her breasts again.&nbsp; He squeezed almost forcefully against them both, running his thumbs over the tight knots of her nipples, "Man and woman.&nbsp; Please let us hear the sounds of a woman..." he pleaded, or perhaps commanded.&nbsp; The tone was one of unrestrained lust and dominance.<br><br>He was right about one thing.&nbsp; He was the peak specimin of his gender.&nbsp; Strong, authoritative.&nbsp; Dark and mysterious.&nbsp; While the romantic Nightwing was a prime example of a lover... gentle and passionate, receptive and empathetic.&nbsp; His mentor was a caveman.&nbsp; A viking.&nbsp; A conqueror.<br><br>Nightwing's tongue slid with pressure against the length of her slit, sliding just barely past the barrier and into her body.&nbsp; Cradling her clit on the upward stroke as if it were a long lost lover, being embraced after a hundred years apart.&nbsp; He kissed it.&nbsp; Deeply and passionately, and with every bit of the love that he had put into her lips only a moment ago...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>11-02-2010, 05:58:29</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The naked woman twisted in their grip; her hips, because of Nightwing’s skilled mouth, her torso, because of Batman’s wicked words and demanding hands. They were two contrasts, each overwhelming and powerful. She was a responsive partner, and this showed as Nightwing began to caress her clit, each brush of his tongue making her hips buck gently, her fingers struggling to find something –anything- to curl themselves again.<br><br>At first she could only respond to Batman’s words by moaning against his ear as she tilted her head back; or where she assumed his ear was, since she couldn’t exactly tell from his armored cowl. “You’re going to make me cum,” she panted, more of a surprised realization than a statement or question. It’s been a while, the mood was powerful, and the way he caressed her like that, added with Batman’s words… Sam didn’t stand a chance. “Oh… fuck.”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>11-02-2010, 06:03:02</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Do it," Nightwing insisted, speaking the words directly into her pussy so that the vibrations carried over his lips, "Show us a woman at her most beautiful.&nbsp; We need this," he implored her even as his face disappeared closer to her cunt, his tongue finally probing deeply into it.<br><br>"Remind us how it feels to be men," Batman begged, "So much has been lost.&nbsp; There's nothing left.&nbsp; We need this..." he repeated his protoge's words as he began to unfasten the grips of his tights and armor.&nbsp; Like Nightwing's suit had been shown to be, his was a series of interlocking pieces that had to be removed with precision.&nbsp; Painful.&nbsp; Slow.&nbsp; Precision.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>11-02-2010, 06:09:35</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Another whimper, another shiver, and this time Sam could only look down her body to where Nightwing kneeled before her, lips locked on her cunt, that delicious tongue pushing deep. Her muscles flexed, her breathing began to grow deep, slow, and as a jolt of pleasure hit her she undulated again, rocking her head back with a louder moan, less reserved than the others. Batman was talking, removing his armor, and she could only feel the anticipation growing, building higher and higher as flesh was starting to be exposed and they were losing themselves in nothing but need. Pure and simple.<br><br>She hadn't lied when she said she was going to cum. Their only sign was a soft whimper as her writhing became stronger, forcing Nightwing to tame her legs. It hit her with a building warmth, the woman's tight little cunt pulsing as each crashing wave of the orgasm took control of her body. She wasn't screaming, but she wasn't silent either, lost in the throws of passion, surrendering to their desires.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>11-02-2010, 06:19:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"You sound so beautiful," Nightwing confessed into her cunt.&nbsp; Again the vibrations carrying along his tongue.<br><br>Batman exposed himself after a painful wait.&nbsp; His length already growing hard and firm so close to her face.&nbsp; Nightwing's kisses moved higher on her body, a hard pressure of his tongue against her clit hood.&nbsp; He sucked it in slightly, letting the clit run against his teeth as he let it back out.&nbsp; His mentor's hands kneeding firmly into her breasts, pinching and twisting the nipples almost as if he were angry with them.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>11-02-2010, 06:30:58</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Soft, almost adoring caresses of a lover. Then the primal possession of a man to be the contrast against the tender brush. It was good… damn good… The only thing keeping Sam in place was Batman’s hands, which twisted her nipples to the point that it almost brought those tears to her eyes again. But she loved that, also. She had a sensitive body, and those large hands owned her as they did what they pleased.<br><br>She was basking in the afterglow; Sam’s orgasm hadn’t been the most powerful thing, but it was a good rushing wave that had her cunt soaked and Nightwing’s mouth glistening. She watched him through batting lashes, rising, getting closer and closer, and unable to help herself, she leaned forward, locking her lips with his, savoring the taste of herself on his lips.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>11-02-2010, 06:36:56</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He embraced her completely when she leapt forward at him like that.&nbsp; Her smell and flavor still glistening like honey on his soft lips as they locked with hers.&nbsp; He parted his lips, presented her tongue with the one that had been used to please her.<br><br>Behind her, Batman's strong hands moved from her breasts to her hips.&nbsp; The head of his dick being rubbed first against her saturated cunt before moving to the puckerred hole of her ass, "Let us complete you.&nbsp; Let us remind you what it feels like for a woman to be full..." Batman growled to her ear.<br><br>"I think I love you," Nightwing confessed as he broke the kiss, pulling himself under her with some guidance on the part of his mentor holding her hips to line his own cock up against the soaked opening of her pussy.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>11-02-2010, 06:46:37</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Her taste was delicious. It was almost with greed that Sam kissed at Nightwing’s mouth, sucking his tongue into her mouth so that she could have more. As inexperienced as she may have been, Sam had a level of skill that spoke otherwise. She sucked his tongue, bit his lower lips, and allowed Batman to growl and hiss against her ear.<br><br>In response? She rocked her hips back, teasing the head of his cock with the easy motions of her hips, almost taunting him. They were also begging, and while she had never done… this… before, she wasn’t shy of the sharing with the two men. Batman’s words made her groan, but it was Nightwing’s words that made her blush. She looked at him, lips parted, chest heaving as she shook her head slowly, side to side.<br><br>“You’re just saying that,” She whispered, bracing her body against Nightwing’s as he positioned herself. She squirmed now, watching his length so close. She wanted it inside her. Needed it inside. Both of them. “Please… please.”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>11-02-2010, 06:53:27</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The penetration was simultaneous.&nbsp; Both of them forcing their way inside her awaiting body.&nbsp; Though Nightwing's dick in her pussy was a far more welcome intrusion, the soaking wetness making it practically glide into her body.&nbsp; His mentor, in her ass, was forced to push with more force against the unnatural hole.<br><br>But they moved at one, and both found their way to the full depth of her body at the same time.&nbsp; At first they just held themselves inside her, as if making a completion of the union.&nbsp; Nightwing's lips rarely left Samantha's during this point.&nbsp; As if she tasted of everything that matterred to him... as if she had the flavor of infinity...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>11-02-2010, 07:03:51</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				They bound her with their hands. Sam trembled but that fine shiver couldn’t find her hips as they locked it in place. Inch my inch made itself welcome and inch by inch Sam mewled in pleasure, crying out and panting as her pupils dilated and her vision went blurry. She couldn’t see, and so was forced to close her eyes. This only seemed to heighten her other senses, and while Nightwing kissed her, and Batman pushed to completion to sheath in her tight ass, she clutched them desperately, almost afraid.<br><br>She was tight, wet, each pulse of her muscles trying to accommodate for their girth could be felt by each and every one of them. Never had she experienced this before; both at once, and she was thankful that they paused; she could savor it. But she wasn’t a selfish lover. When Sam parted her lips to breathe she allowed a few seconds to pass before she tilted her head back, seeking Batman’s mouth, which arched her back prettily for Nightwing’s enjoyment.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>11-02-2010, 07:10:15</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Once her acceptance was complete, they seemed to once more move in unison.&nbsp; First slowly drawing themselves from her body and then slowly pushing back in.&nbsp; This was not violent.&nbsp; This was not vulgar.&nbsp; This was romance.&nbsp; Tender and gentle and authoritative and dark.&nbsp; It was the best that both of them had to offer for her.&nbsp; Her wettest darkest nightmares come true... everything she didn't know she'd dreamt about that drew her to this city.<br><br>No one came to Gotham if not for Batman.<br><br>As she arched her back and craned to reach Batman's lips, he shared the kiss at the same time as he thrust himself into her ass.&nbsp; Nightwing took advantage of her flexibility to lock his lips on her left tit, biting into the nipple softly while sucking on it...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>11-02-2010, 07:16:26</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She must have looked like a wanton thing; arched so for the both of them, her tiny frame straining to accommodate them at the same time. There was just the hint of a bulge in her belly from Nightwing’s cock, and the muscles in her thighs strained to keep herself relaxed for Batman’s, which buried itself so deep into her ass. One hand tangled in the ebony tresses of Nightwing’s hair, the other cupping the back of Batman’s cowl. It was as if she split herself in half for them. Sam wasn’t selfish, she gave them both everything she could, even as she whimpered and mewled in pleasure as they worked as one in her body, driving her crazy, making her tight.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>11-02-2010, 07:22:52</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The image of her splayed between them like that.&nbsp; Lustfully accepting of them both at once, as she glistened with sweat.&nbsp; It was whorish.&nbsp; Filthy.&nbsp; And beautiful in a ways that can only be described by words usually reserved for God.<br><br>They filled her.&nbsp; Her body accepting of both of them inside her in the most lewd and eager way a woman was capable of accepting them.&nbsp; Their tempo increased.&nbsp; Now a sloppy clapping sound as they moved in alternating rhytm into her body.&nbsp; They weren't being aggressive, but they were slowly passing the threshhold of what might be referred to as 'gentle'.&nbsp; Nightwing's teeth sank harder into the other nipple, as if punishing it for being something wicked and sinful.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>11-02-2010, 07:30:10</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				This sort of pain felt too good to hurt. It wasn’t extreme, more like a garnish to all the other flavors around them. She cooed and sighed, breaking from Batman’s mouth when she needed more air. Perfect timing on Nightwing’s part; his nip made her cry out, eyes shooting open wide although they were both still blind to the world around them. “Huuhnn..” She trembled and rocked forward, releasing Batman in order to shift her muscles to keep them from cramping. Normally it wouldn’t be a problem; but food wasn’t exactly well off in this city. But she felt… amazing. Her body was on a high, being thrust into by the both of them. She couldn’t help herself, however, looking down at Nightwing’s face, daring to allow some of her admiration to show.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>11-02-2010, 07:40:30</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He looked up at her with what could possibly be described as worship in his own right.&nbsp; Even though his eyes couldn't be seen behind the white lenses of his mask, and occasionally his lips contorted in something of a growling grunt as he thrust himself back inside her.&nbsp; It seemed like there was no image in the world that he would rather have fill his vision than that of her sweating lust filled face.<br><br>Behind her, his mentor gripped her hips and slammed himself into her ass as hard as he could to drive her face first into Nightwing who was waiting with an even more tender and loving kiss.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>11-02-2010, 07:44:52</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				That hard thrust released a sharp cry from her mouth. The sound drift up to the sky, lingering under the canopy of the trees, but it was as if the plants had created this haven, and refused to allow anything it desired to leave; and they wanted to hear her screams and whimpers. The sound was purred against Nightwing’s lips, fed into his mouth like an offering, and this time both arms wrapped around his shoulders, keeping herself close to him.<br><br>But there was that swell again, that building of pressure deep inside her body. Batman worked fast and deep, and it was his withdraw that sent her trembling. All those nerves were singing, building her orgasm higher and higher… She was theirs, and began to shift and writhing, breathing deep, thick and slow, as if trying to fight off the orgasm that will be far more powerful that the first.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>11-02-2010, 07:54:32</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				They both increased their pace, and somehow... their size seemed to increase inside her as well.&nbsp; As if their cocks had both simultaneously grown.&nbsp; Not drastically, not immensely... but just enough to make her that much more full.&nbsp; Nightwing's head slamming agressively against the outside of her cervix.&nbsp; Trying almost to force it's way directly into her womb...<br><br>Like their size, their agression increased... just that little bit.&nbsp; Rather than possess her, they were owning her.&nbsp; Hands invasive over her skin, Nightwing's kiss a complete and utter stealing of her soul.<br><br>There was another rustling in the bushes.&nbsp; They were being watched...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>11-02-2010, 08:02:22</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				This possession was also new; her experiences in the past were vanilla and about as exciting. Fumbling fingers and that awkward stage of a teenager that was more nervous than excited. The two of them weren’t like that, and as Sam surrendered herself to them, she found herself almost begging for more. That orgasm was building, higher and higher, swelling like… them? Her brows pinched, mild confusion flickering across her features before she shook her head side to side. That… wasn’t normal, was it? Certain she would know…<br><br>But her orgasm was building again, and that confusion melted away as Sam found herself gasping, her hips struggling to break free of their grip, to thrust bad. She tried to pull her lips away from Nightwing so that she could gasp, look up, find air. Instead she was pushed closer to him from Batman’s thrust. She whimpered. She mewled. Sam rewarded them with those soft, feminine sounds of approaching release.<br><br>Did that rustle come from the wind?<br><br>Her thought exploded. Sam screamed through her mouth pressed to Nightwing’s as her orgasm hit. She had a powerful core; each pulse caused her to clench tight, muscles sucking greedily like hungry mouths, begging for their release. Her keening cry broke through the barrier of nature around them as wave after wave of her orgasm took control.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>11-02-2010, 08:10:49</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				From behind the leaves a beautiful woman stepped to make Samantha's audience known.&nbsp; There was a scent about her.&nbsp; Roses and lylac and sex.&nbsp; Hypnotic and overpowering, as if she were the embodiment of lust and passion.<br><br>"Look at that," Ivy said longingly.&nbsp; Her bare skin was green, the pigment of a healthy plant.&nbsp; Her nipples a bright vibrant emerald instead of a pink or fleshtone.&nbsp; She ran her pinky over her bottom lip in a slight pout, "Men have no appreciation for beauty.&nbsp; Wrecking you.&nbsp; Violating you..."<br><br>Nightwing spoke in a voice that sounded unlike Nightwing at all, "The bitch loves it," he said.&nbsp; The voice was familiar.&nbsp; It was the voice of Clayface.<br><br>"A woman is a beautiful flower, Clayface..." she purred, "That makes her one of my precious children.&nbsp; Give momma a kiss, sweetheart," Ivy leaned in and pressed her lips against Samantha's, sucking on her breath and seeping a seductive neurotoxin into Samantha's skin.&nbsp; Increase her lust, destroy her inhibition.&nbsp; But keep all the shame...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>11-02-2010, 08:21:08</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She collapsed after her release, draped across Nightwing’s chest as her body trembled and slumped, at that point of the orgasm where she was light headed and dizzy. But she was basking, cooing gently against Nightwing’s shoulder as he and Batman continued thrusting.<br><br>Her eyes were blurry. So when Ivy approached she only saw swaying green, but obviously there was a shape making its way towards them. She blinked quickly, for a moment half afraid that it was one of the dead. She was only dumbfounded when Ivy spoke, and then froze, face etched with horror as the pieces began to fall into place. “N-No…” She gasped, pushing herself upright, hands against the mock-chest of Nightwing to try and dislodge herself. The blush covered her cheeks, and instead of moving with her ‘lovers’ Sam struggled to fight them off. “No. No! Let GO!”<br><br>Ivy drew closer, until her green legs came into view and she found herself looking up at her beautiful lips and was too surprised at the caress of lips to fight them off. It felt as if she licked a battery; a tingling chill leapt through her mouth, though instead of shocking her, it plunged straight to her cunt, causing a powerful contraction to throb around Clayface’s cock. Once more those pale blue eyes were wide open, having an understand at what was going on. Her struggles were still there, but they were more difficult to perform as the toxins seeped it. “Nnno… Wh-why?”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>11-02-2010, 08:26:50</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Simultaneously, both Batman and Nightwing began to melt into something of a trap around her body.&nbsp; Where once two people had penetrated her intimately, slowly a wall held her in position in front of Ivy.&nbsp; One length still probed into her ass... fluctuating in size and depth.&nbsp; It was hard to really call it Clayface's cock... as every part of both men that had been around and inside her had been all him.&nbsp; It was just more of himself... more of him fucking her...<br><br>Ivy's bright red lips trailed from Samantha's mouth to her collar bone, biting softly on it as her hands rose up to run her finger nails over the contours of the tightly built girl's curves, "You want me to make you happy, don't you, precious?" the woman purred as she drifted her tongue over Samantha's nipple, "You want to make me happy, too..." with the neurotoxin already in place there was an especially hypnotic tone to Ivy's voice...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>11-02-2010, 09:20:19</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Sam was small, that usually helped her, and in this case it didn’t seem to do much. She wiggled and squirmed, fighting as best she could, even digging her nails sharply into Clayface, and punching what had once been Nightwing’s face with a closed fist. But her body was warming, as if she had just drank a bottle of whisky, and as it warmed that lust grew. She knew what it was; or at least that her kiss had affected her somehow.<br><br>Sam struggled. She put up a valiant effort but wasn’t going anywhere. Ivy’s lips dragged down her skin, flicking her tongue over her nipple and while Sam’s body ached, begging and wanting this, she screamed again. This time, like before, she cried out for Nightwing, she begged for him to save her, even if she was so mortified at what she had done. At being tricked. At falling for it. At being unable to stop herself from reacting, even now.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>11-02-2010, 10:03:54</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Hands manifested from the wall and reached around, holding Samantha's face in place... fingers pulling at the corners of her lips, vulgarly probing into her mouth.&nbsp; The... thing... probing her ass began to rock harder in and out of her nether entrance.<br><br>Meanwhile, Ivy's teeth grinded lightly against the softer flesh of Samantha's breasts.&nbsp; Ivy was more voluptuously built than the lithe former dancer, her bare breasts rubbing sensetively now against Samantha's stomach... climbing lower in tandem with her.&nbsp; The green woman's hands delicately stroking up the side of her reluctant partner, her thumbs running over Samantha's under arms as Clayface's restraints pulled her arms up high above her head... stretching her body tight... forcing her thighs apart for Ivy's descending face...<br><br>"Tell Mama that you want it, precious," Ivy said seductively, "You need to serve me, don't you?&nbsp; Tell mama your name, baby," she said kissing deeply into Samantha's nipple, sucking on it agressively, "Moan it for me."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>11-02-2010, 10:15:40</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She was horrified, helpless, and unable to fight even as Clayface manipulated her body so easily: stretching her, pulling her taunt as the woman slid down her slender frame, immaculate breasts sliding down Sam’s belly. She could feel the hardened nipples teasing her skin. Sam’s response was to swallow a whimper that was muffled by those ‘fingers’ in her mouth. Tears were burning her eyes, falling down her cheeks in fat drops.<br><br>Sam shook her head no, grunting to drive in that denial. But even as she did so the toxins were working quickly and Sam’s tight little cunt was dripping. Leanly muscles arms tried to shift and break free from the position she was stretched, but it seemed her wiggling wouldn’t work. “Nononono! STOP!” Her own breasts were possessed by the woman’s mouth, teeth grazing the sensitive bud until she whimpered in response. “Oh god, stop! Nightwing! Please!”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>11-02-2010, 23:00:19</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Every kiss that Ivy placed on Samantha's body was another injection of the poison from them.&nbsp; All it took was skin contact for the poison to enter her blood.&nbsp; But contact with tissue or open wounds was the quickest.&nbsp; As such, Ivy made every point to lick along the girl's thigh, kissing the bite mark near her ass, "I simply love your tattoo," she complimented, her breath cool and moist as she spoke upward at Samantha's cunt.&nbsp; Like the dew of the morning breathing into her sex.<br><br>Tissue contact with her lips would be quick as well.&nbsp; Her lips puckerred and placed a firm kiss against the heated wetness of Samantha's yawning pussy, even as her tongue slid into it.&nbsp; She was gentle, even moreso than Clayface had been when he was pretending to be Nightwing, "It really is a beautiful flower that you have here," she complimented, "So sweet.&nbsp; So fragrant.&nbsp; Men just don't appreciate it, do they?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>12-02-2010, 00:55:30</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Each kiss was hell, because it was bringing a new level of bliss. Sam squirmed and moaned, cooing for relief, but as time went on she was uncertain what sort of relief she was looking for. First it was like an electric tingle, but as more and more time passed, it was growing to an ache, a longing that had the woman trembling with need. “Stop… Stop…” The words were the only thing she had to hang onto now. Her body surrendered to Ivy’s demands, her mind was falling under the heavy need, but she still begged for reprieve, to break away and escape.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>12-02-2010, 01:03:15</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Vines seemed to crawl over where they were standing.&nbsp; What had once been an open air garden seemed to now be a hollow portion of a thorn bush, "You can let her go now, darling," she taunted as Clayface's grip released Samantha's arms and legs, dropping her slightly.&nbsp; The thrusting probe inside Samantha's ass didn't recede, however.<br><br>The green woman intertwined her fingers in Samantha's hair as she leaned back on a throne of roses that grew out of the ground for her.&nbsp; Slowly, tenderly, but forcefully and without any question that she in complete control, Ivy forced Samantha's head between her own legs, "The little dear is all mine, now, aren't you?&nbsp; Are you going to tell us your name now?" Ivy's wetness didn't smell like a woman's, as much as it smelled like the inside of a greenhouse.&nbsp; Wildflowers and dew, not sex and sweat.&nbsp; Still, there was a kind of pheromone that permeated against Samantha's nostrils from Ivy's awaiting pussy... imploring... commanding the girl to release herself into Ivy's domination...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>12-02-2010, 01:16:42</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The woman slumped, her body aching as she tried to brace herself or even move on her own well. It wasn’t working; Ivy’s hand coiled tightly in her hair and positioned Sam’s head between her thighs. She resisted, but what little control she had left was crumbling. She screamed, though it was little more than a whimper, begging for this not to happen… but the woman smelled sweet, like honey. But she was a stubborn woman, and wouldn’t give her name.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>12-02-2010, 01:56:05</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Ivy leaned backward on her rosebed throne, pulling Samantha's head closer and closer to her awaiting sex.&nbsp; It begged the question whether or not this was necessary or just a psychological part of enforcing the power that she already seemed to have over the girl.&nbsp; Her grip on Samantha's hair was even tighter.<br><br>Vines crept over Samantha's body coiling and grinding against her awaiting cunt, "I can make you feel so good, little flower," Ivy mused as the coil of vines started to push into the girl's wet entrance.&nbsp; They were gentle but forceful... with all the authority that one would expect of a woman so clearly accustomed to being regarded as a queen.&nbsp; She was toxic, and dangerous, and deadly, and completely impossible not to give yourself over to... she was a drug.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>12-02-2010, 02:19:36</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She worked while her mind raged, begging for the end of this. Why this? Why sex? Of everything that was going on in the world, in this city… Well maybe that answered it? So simple, so easy… so satisfying. Sam tried fighting it, and she wasn’t a weakly minded person; how else had she lasted this long? And still, Sam was struggling, even as her tongue dipped forward, caressing her clit, drawing that sweet nectar into her mouth. She sucked and teased, exploring with her tongue, even as she hated every moment.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>12-02-2010, 02:40:13</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She tasted like honey and red wine.&nbsp; Intoxicating and alluring and sweet, "Don't be shy," Ivy said as she ran her fingers a little deeper into Sam's hair, twisting and pulling on the shorter parts at the back of her head.&nbsp; Coaxing more than forcing Samantha's face deeper into her crotch, "We're going to know eachother very well before long," the tone was hypnotic.&nbsp; Like a dream.&nbsp; No matter how much it didn't make sense, it seemed like it must obviously be fact.<br><br>The coiled vines pushed hard into Samantha's sex, spiralling and unfurling inside her in ways and shapes and forms that no human appendage ever could.&nbsp; Like something very much alive and vibrant inside Samantha's body probing her in a million different ways and a million different angles.&nbsp; Fucking her at the same time it made love to her.&nbsp; Wooing her at the same time it raped her.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>12-02-2010, 03:06:17</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				A low moan purred against that moist snatch; and still Sam’s lips worked the clit, conflicted in her thinking. She wanted to both coax Ivy to orgasm so that this would end; and please her at the same time. It was the toxins, there was no doubt about that, but that didn’t feel like a good enough reason. Why wasn’t she pushing away? Why wasn’t she fighting, tooth and claw?<br><br>Maybe it was the plants; the way they twisted helped pull her mouth away; as much as Ivy’s hand would allow anyways. They were doing things that Sam never even imagined, twisting, stretching, caressing, finding all of those little spots inside her cunt she didn’t even know existed. “Stop this, stop this please! What do you want with me?! Nighwing help!!”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>12-02-2010, 03:30:12</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"You don't really want me to stop, do you?" The plants thrust harder inside her in unison, stretching her cunt a little, "You want to tell me how much you love my proxy cock inside your body," she grinned down at her as she guided Samantha's face back to her crotch.<br><br>"I'm going to turn Gotham in to a paradise.&nbsp; Women and plants like us will take it back completely.&nbsp; It will be a new Garden of Eden.&nbsp; A new Themyscira," the way she sang the words was like the promise of all Samantha's dreams.&nbsp; A lulliby of perfection the likes of which the ebon haired young doctor had never imagined until Ivy had spoken these magic words to put the image inside her head.&nbsp; To awaken her.<br><br>"But to do that... I need to be rid of a threat," she sighed a soft sound of encouragement, licking her lips a little at Samantha's attention, "We need to kill Batman..."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>12-02-2010, 03:45:32</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Kill? No no no no no… Samantha couldn’t kill anyone. Batman had saved her, had… Thoughts derailed as those vines spread just a little wide, stretching Sam’s cunt until she cried out, voice pitching and keening through the trees, stretching out to the outer reached of the park. It hurt, but in the ways that later felt… perfect. Her scream was pressed against Ivy’s pussy, vibrating against her clit as if seeking the woman’s release.<br><br>But those words were sinking in, taking over, that silky voice sounding so… reasonable. No… no that wasn’t right. Another moan, longer, more desperate as the last thing she wanted to happen… started to happen. With those thrusting vines her cunt began to clench, her body began to writhe. Sam was getting close, it was now a fight for more than one thing.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>12-02-2010, 03:57:28</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Ivy moaned encouragingly, purring and grinding her hips into Samantha's face, "Tell me that you love me," the toxins were present in more fluids than just her saliva.&nbsp; The fervor, however reluctant it had been at first, had meant that Samantha had spent the last few minutes lovingly lapping up the very chemicals that were losing her to Ivy's control.&nbsp; A sharp warbling breath escaped Ivy's throat, "Tell me you'd do anything for me!"<br><br>The plants condensed at first and then fought against the clenching as if to put as much pressure inside Samantha's body as possible.&nbsp; It didn't spread too forcefully on her opening itself, rather it coiled and rotated... the spreading reserved for lovingly petting at the inside of Samantha's body... even probing upward and grinding it's way past her cervix... a few smaller vines rubbing the inside of Samantha's very womb.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>12-02-2010, 04:10:03</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Samantha knew what was happening, and even as her orgasm hit, overwhelmed, and controlled her, her mouth continued sucking and lapping, drawing Ivy’s juices into her mouth, concentrating on her clit. She wanted to make the woman cum, even as Samantha was cumming. It wasn’t as powerful as the orgasm from ‘Nightwing’ had been, but the way these vines worked was better than Clayface could have hoped for.<br><br>Sam came, her body writhed and struggled, trying to break free of Ivy even as her pussy continued to clench around those plants. She’s never experienced what they were doing; pushing past her cervix, deep into it, painfully filling her unlike any man could. Sam whimpered, she cooed, and with the last clear thought she had, she screamed until she ripped her voice raw. “<em>Nightwing</em>!!”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>12-02-2010, 04:18:03</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Ivy moaned and huffed, a gutteral groan escaping her throat as she bucked her hips against Samantha's invading tongue.&nbsp; As her orgasm build the pistons of the plants inside Samantha's womb spread and burst forth a thick sap inside her body, emulating the most intense of male orgasms.&nbsp; As if just to verify that there was nothing men could do that Ivy could not to a thousand times better.<br><br>She was angerred that Samantha had not done as she'd asked.&nbsp; But, the girl had practically drank enough of Ivy's pheromones to seduce a bull.&nbsp; Ivy remained confident the girl would do what she needed her to do, when she needed her to do it.&nbsp; And if she wouldn't... the seeds in her womb were an insurance plan...<br><br>"You'll kill Batman for me, won't you, my love?" she spoke to Samantha as if she was the only person ever to hear those words pass her lips.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>12-02-2010, 04:32:51</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Samantha collapsed, sprawled out on her belly at Ivy’s feet with her upper body propped up against throne and leg. She couldn’t walk yet; the horror of the experience, the lust, and the simple ache of a good hard fuck made her immobile. But those toxins were bleeding into her body, consuming everything. Her head ached; as if the humidity increased and there was a heavy ache behind her eyes. Sam tried to think, there was a small portion of her that remained aware, but it was overwhelmed, it knew that she wasn’t able to get control. Why else was she nodding to agree to what the woman was saying? A whimper escaped, something that might have sounded like the name of a vigilante, but it was soft and mewled against Ivy’s thigh.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>12-02-2010, 04:38:08</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Good girl," Ivy smiled, "Now tell me your name, my love..." maybe it wasn't just a tactic.&nbsp; No, certainly no woman could ever say those words with such genuine emotion.&nbsp; Not if she didn't mean them.&nbsp; Ivy loved Samantha.&nbsp; There couldn't be any question about that, could there?&nbsp; She helped Samantha to her feet, cradling her and bringing her to sit lovingly on Ivy's lap.&nbsp; She held the girl close, her breasts soft against Samantha's back, her hand gently petting on Samantha's womb as if there was even a possibility that she may have just fatherred a child via the serrogate of a plant, "Certainly I can know your name, by now?&nbsp; Don't you love me?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>12-02-2010, 04:47:57</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				There was no possibility of Samantha having a child; a bullet saw to that, scarring and destroying the organs needed for reproduction a year ago. But there was no arguing or statement about this fact; Samantha curled on Ivy’s lap, letting the woman pet her as she sat naked in her arms. The woman was trembling, as if chilled, mouth working softly, still struggling not to let go of that mantra.<br><br>If she said her name, Nightwing’s would be lost. Hadn’t he said he’d come for her? “Sam…” She whispered, her name leaving as a half-sob. “Samantha…” Her head shook slowly side to side, but she leaned her cheek against Ivy’s chest, over her heart. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>12-02-2010, 04:56:50</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"I'm going to make everything perfect, Samantha.&nbsp; You'll be there right with me, my love..." she promised.&nbsp; Then there was a sudden alertness that seemed to come over her.&nbsp; She turned towards the east and the vines that surrounded them became more thick and tightly packed together, "They're here."<br><br>"Samantha... my love..." Ivy spoke as the plants began to push forward a heavy pistol towards the pale skinned girl's hand, "I need you to take this.&nbsp; I need you to get ready to kill Batman and Robin..."<br><br><hr><br>There was the sound of a machete hacking through the foliage, and then the sound of three things piercing into the plants.&nbsp; Then the sound... and sight... and shockwave of... a large explosion that cleared the way for the two vigilantees.&nbsp; Nightwing smirked, "Robin?&nbsp; I feel like I've been demoted, Ivy!" he looked directly at Samantha, "I told you I'd come..."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>12-02-2010, 05:16:04</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She hated guns; they terrified her. They hurt her and others and seeing that one so close caused her to grow cold, to press tighter to Ivy as if she were afraid that it would turn on her instead. Slowly Sam shook her head even as a hand reached out to timidly coil her fingers around the grip of the gun. It was lighter than it looked, but it felt awkward in her small hand, too clunky and too big.<br><br>It was a transition; the gun was in her hand and then she was suddenly turning to look at Batman and Nightwing. Her eyes were focused on the man in black and blue, locked, but her face was no longer showing that spark. Her face was blank, her pale eyes almost pure white as her pupils shrank, despite the dark, and Ivy’s toxins. She felt something though, a small voice was screaming inside her, but Sam didn’t respond. She remained in Ivy’s lap, allowing the woman to pet her naked body nestled against her own, gun in hand, watching and waiting for instruction.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>12-02-2010, 05:27:27</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Ivy smirked at Batman and Nightwing, "Kill them, my love!" she orderred Samantha, releasing the girl from her grip.<br><br>Clayface bounded at Batman only to immediately be hit with an electrified batarang, "I'll handle Ivy, you figure out the girl!" Batman commanded.&nbsp; Nightwing hated when Batman gave orders like that to him, especially right after he'd just said he wasn't Robin anymore.&nbsp; But in this case, he understood.&nbsp; Samantha had already demonstrated that she wasn't especially fond of the Dark Knight, and she and Nightwing had some level of a raport...<br><br>"Sam?" Nightwing asked cautiously, "It's me.&nbsp; It's Nightwing."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>12-02-2010, 05:41:26</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She had orders; slowly Sam stood to her feet, her muscles were tight and her pale decorated with the bite marks of Clayface, but even now she was showing signs of grace. She couldn’t focus on the pain and discomfort, just Ivy’s words, seeming to echo in her head, chasing away doubt and concerns. The woman’s face was blank, and she made her fluid steps towards Nightwing with the pistol in hand but still loose at her side.<br><br>“Nightwing.” She spoke softly, her voice hoarse from her screaming earlier. But it was also dull, trancelike, bland.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>12-02-2010, 05:46:21</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Sam," Nightwing said without a hint of agression or anger, "I know what's going on.&nbsp; Hell... I've been under the spell myself.&nbsp; You can fight it!" he pressed on her.&nbsp; He kept his hands low, until she got close enough for him to disarm her.&nbsp; His movements in blinding speed knocking the gun out of her hand and into the soft pool of a contorting and angry Clayface trying to regain his shape even as jolts of electricity surged through him.<br><br>As soon as the gun was gun, he put his hands back down, "You know... I spied on you back at the apartment building," he said with some hint of boyish charm, "You're beautiful, Sam."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>12-02-2010, 06:01:35</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He didn’t have a clue as to what was going on. He didn’t know what she had thought, what she had done, even before she was drugged. And he was calling her beautiful? Even as she was standing here before him, naked, covered in bite marks, showing every visible sign of just having sex… Samantha didn’t feel beautiful. She felt like scum, trash, the sort of thing you wiped away with a towel and throwed away. “Shut up!” She hissed, fists clenching tight.<br><br>There was only a moment of relief as the gun was taken away; she didn’t want to hurt anyone. No, that was wrong. She didn’t want to kill anyone. She wanted to hurt them plenty. Samantha lunged, she moved like a viper and closed the distance between them in an instant. She was small, and she wasn’t overly strong, but she was damn fast. The roundhouse gained power from her speed, cracking out like a whip where she aimed her barefoot to his torso.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>12-02-2010, 06:08:25</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It would have been oh so easy for him to evade it.&nbsp; She'd seen him in action, she'd seen him move.&nbsp; And he was capable of so much more than what she'd seen.&nbsp; He'd fought Blockbuster, he'd fougth Solomon Grundy, he'd fought Mr. Freeze.&nbsp; Two Face.&nbsp; Doctor Light.&nbsp; Clayface.&nbsp; Killer Croc.&nbsp; Bane.&nbsp; The Joker!<br><br>He'd been taught by the best, and there was still some room for debate as to where he stood on the scale in the grand scheme.&nbsp; Dodging a kick from a young woman... a drugged and fatigued from sex, young woman... would have been no problem.&nbsp; But he didn't move an inch.&nbsp; Instead he just grunted and doubled over slightly when her kick hit his stomach.&nbsp; It hurt especially bad because of how it shifted his muscles over his wound, "I'm not going to fight you Sam.&nbsp; You're too important.&nbsp; You're stronger than Ivy.&nbsp; Stronger than me..." he looked up at her, "You saved all those people at the police station!"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>12-02-2010, 06:24:02</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The hit was satisfying, it sent a gratifying ache through her limb and the man just took it, doubled over. The kick was swiftly followed by a punch to the face, and then a front kick to send the man stumbling back from her, allowing Sam more room to move.<br><br>Her small frame was seething, trembling in her rage, her disgust with herself; and it clearly showed on her face. She hated herself. Hated what she was doing, and even as he spoke to her she was struggling to comply. He wasn’t going to stop her? Hadn’t he promised to save her? She couldn’t stop; even when Sam knew what was happening she couldn’t fight the effects of Ivy’s toxins. She was moving forward again, closing that distance, fists balled up tight.<br><br>She hadn’t saved anyone, not even herself, and with another thrust of her fist Sam advanced on Nightwing again. “Shut up!” She snarled. “They’re dead! You broke your promise, you didn’t come!”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>12-02-2010, 06:34:02</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Dead?" he had to put it together that someone had told her that information.&nbsp; Remind himself that she'd been unconcious, "Sam, all those people are fine.&nbsp; We had to make sure that they were safe.&nbsp; That you hadn't risked your life protecting them for nothing..." he gave her as the reason it had taken so long for them to get to her, "Then we had to find you.&nbsp; I did come.&nbsp; I am here."<br><br>His words had to be spoken through the soft sound of packed meat every time her strikes landed against his body.&nbsp; He wasn't going to hit her back, he wasn't going to fight her.&nbsp; If this was what she had to do... so be it, "I'm not going anywhere," he reminded her, "I'll always be here.&nbsp; Every time you need to be protected..." she had to know how easy it would have been for him to simply knock her out.&nbsp; To utterly destroy her if they came to actual blows, "There's a light that shines in this city..." he reminded her, "No matter what."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>12-02-2010, 06:49:41</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It was growing more difficult to react; that pain that had built up inside her head cracked her skull; all the bones shifted, gritting together, slicing the inside of her brain. Or at least… that’s what it felt like. Sam wobbled, clutching her head as she shook it side to side in an attempt to find her thoughts, her sanity. She whimpered, feeling her knees wobble as his words sank in. They were alive?<br><br>“No… nono…” She sobbed and took one last forward before dropping to her knees, still clutching her head. “You were late… I –screamed- and you weren’t…”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>12-02-2010, 06:55:33</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He fell down near her, but reached for her only part way.&nbsp; The last time he'd tried to reach to comfort her, she'd slapped his hand away.&nbsp; And that time had not been anywhere near as emotional as this one, "I know," he appologized, "I had to find you.&nbsp; But I did," he said with the tone of a promise, "I found you.&nbsp; I came for you."&nbsp; His voice was gentle, without urgency.&nbsp; If she needed him, he was there for her.&nbsp; If she didn't want him... she could send him away.&nbsp; If she wanted to kill him... he wasn't going to defend himself.&nbsp; The only way to beat Ivy's toxin was to fight it...<br><br>"You're too good for this Sam," he reminded her, "You saved the lives of half a dozen people today.&nbsp; You fought the Joker!&nbsp; You told off Batman!" he had some level of authority in her voice, as if it would simply be foolish not to think the world of her, "Are you really going to let Ivy manipulate you?"&nbsp; He could piece together that more than just Ivy's usual kiss had occurred given Samantha's state of dress and the clear smells in the room.&nbsp; But that was her business.&nbsp; If she thought it was voluntary, then she'd done nothing wrong.&nbsp; If it wasn't... she'd talk to him if she needed to...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>12-02-2010, 07:19:09</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Sam felt the panic attack coming, even on her knees she felt unsteady, and could only gasp franticly, clutching at her head while Nightwing spoke to her. That part of her brain that was still her own clung to his words; they were what gave her hope. She whimpered and shook her head, but didn’t pull away, crying out when icy needles stabbed into her brain. But she was fighting it, she had never given up. Now that Sam had something better to hold onto than just flimsy hope. “Please… please… It hurts!”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>12-02-2010, 07:24:16</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Samantha..." he said with a kind of firm authority.&nbsp; It was an old fashioned idea that a man needed to take authority over a woman on occasion, but the fact was that women responded to it for a reason.&nbsp; Comfort came in two forms, security and empathy.&nbsp; It was clear that Nightwing was offering both.&nbsp; His hands gripped her naked form and pulled her close to him.&nbsp; The difference between Clayface holding her and the real thing was clear.&nbsp; He was warm.&nbsp; His heartbeat was firm through his costume.&nbsp; And just like her... he trembled at the thought of what she was going through, "It's okay.&nbsp; I'm here.&nbsp; I'm not going anywhere.&nbsp; As long as you need someone... I'm here.&nbsp; I'm just a man, though," he reminded her, "I need you to help me fight the monsters that you're afraid of... I need you to help me stop this.&nbsp; But no matter what.&nbsp; I'm not going anywhere..."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>12-02-2010, 07:53:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She clung to him as if she was a half-drowned kitten, and it was his hold that kept her from falling under completely. She felt sick, violated, frightened and angry. She felt cold, the pain in her skull made her eyes tear, her thoughts were cluttered… but it was getting easier. Clearer. Both her hands curled into Nightwing’s chest, and with a shudder she pushed herself closer to him as if she could pull herself into his lap. Now she felt his heart beating, the heat of his skin, the life there that she hadn’t felt before when she mistaken Clayface for him.<br><br>God… what had she been thinking? How could she have surrendered to such a compulsion? It was so foolish now, wasn’t it? “I… I’ll be alright.” Somewhat. She was getting better control now. The pain in her skull was still there, and she was struggling to focus her eyes, but her pupils were returning to their normal size, and blue began to seep back. It wouldn’t all go away in an instant, but she had control.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>12-02-2010, 08:26:14</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Ivy was gone by the time that Nightwing looked up to see Batman looming over them.&nbsp; Nightwing's mentor had taken on both Ivy and Clayface and probably still didn't envy the fight that Nightwing had had to fight.&nbsp; Yet another part of him that he'd long since thought he'd killed off inside him, envied the power that his ward had to find that strength inside others.&nbsp; There were other ways to be lost besides under the control of Ivy.&nbsp; Dick Grayson was remarkably good at finding people...<br><br>What Batman could offer by means of support he did by taking off his cape and covering up Samantha's shame.&nbsp; Nightwing still held her in his embrace.<br><br>The further away that Ivy got the easier it would be for Samantha to focus through the toxins that were still in her system.&nbsp; Maybe she wouldn't be completely free of the longing, the addiction that came from knowing exactly what drug you'd just taken... but the hypnosis of Ivy's constant will over her was weakened now.<br><br>"I know you'll be alright," Nightwing confirmed for her, "You're a lot stronger than you know.&nbsp; You're my hero today, you know that?" He smiled just a little, not enough to be insensetive to the pain she was so clearly feeling, "You saved all those people.&nbsp; And the only reason they were able to take you away was because you wanted to keep a little boy from being scared."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>12-02-2010, 08:41:33</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				There was no jumping this time when Samantha discovered Batman was there. She cringed inwardly, remembering what he had done the last time that… Clayface posed the position. But he was kind, draping his cape across Sam’s form, covering her naked body. One of her hands broke away from Nightwing to keep the cape in place. She was going to need time if they expected her to walk. But with that thought, “Get me out of here… please…"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>12-02-2010, 08:44:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Once again she had to sit on Nightwing's lap.&nbsp; This time he didn't keep his arms like it was an awkward thing, rather he held her protectively the entire time.&nbsp; Batman barely spared them a noticable glance, but seemed always aware of their presence.&nbsp; Always aware of her condition.&nbsp; If ever he was empathetic about it, however, it didn't show.<br><br>They were driving in a very different direction.&nbsp; Towards the more expensive areas of town, but moving towards the river.&nbsp; Pretty soon they drove past a cliff-face... then directly towards what appeared to be the wall of the very same cliff face.&nbsp; He didn't appear to be slowing down.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>12-02-2010, 08:57:57</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				And it was with gratitude that Sam sat where she did. It was side-saddle this time, her legs drawn up to her chest, Batman’s cape over her body, doing well to warming her chilled flesh, but not once did she release Nightwing. It was getting easier, but where her mind settled back where it belonged there was little comfort. She wanted to shower… more now than ever before. She wanted to find warm clothes, drink good whiskey and curl up in a ball to sleep her memories off.<br><br>She couldn’t afford such luxuries; they didn’t exist in the city any longer. The escape of sleep was possible… it had been a god-awful long day after all. With that thought she turned her head towards their front, and it was only here that she realized that they weren’t near anything familiar to her. The advancing wall of rock tickled her adrenaline, and when she realized that they weren’t going to stop Sam could only gasp, gripping Nightwing tightly.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>12-02-2010, 09:02:55</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Nightwing smirked, "That's always my favorite part," he explained to her as he held her tightly in her fear.&nbsp; She would probably have noticed by the time that he spoke the words that they had not, in fact, slammed into a rock face and were actually quite alive.&nbsp; All around them now was the inside of a massive cave.<br><br>When the car stopped, everything became even more impressive.&nbsp; Batman didn't say a word as he went towards what was probably the largest computer screen that Samantha had ever seen in her life.<br><br>"Come on.&nbsp; Let's get you to the shower," Nightwing offerred as if he was reading her mind.&nbsp; The water was pumped into the bat-cave from the river directly.&nbsp; The showers and the steam room were fed through a filter and treated before being used.&nbsp; All in some elaborate scheme to prevent the off-chance someone ever looked at Bruce Wayne's water bill.&nbsp; There may have been such a thing as being too cautious before... but now, with so few amenities... the Bat Cave was one of the last places in Gotham with running clean water.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>12-02-2010, 09:10:25</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				With his help, Sam left the vehicle and followed his lead. She was a little too numb with the trials before, but this place certainly caught her attention. Part of her wished that she had paid better attention of where they had gone. She wasn’t a snoop, she respected the privacy of others, but she was curious by nature. Didn’t everyone want to know about the Bat-cave? And here she was…<br><br>The cape was heavier than she expected now that she was trying not to trip over it while she was walking. Her knees wobbled and her footing felt numb, but Sam didn’t trip or fall by some twisted sense of ‘luck’. Both hands clutched the cape to her chest and Nightwing’s promise of a shower was… seductive. Running water? How? Judging by the sounds of water around them, she could take a guess. Even if it was frigid cold, it would be a relief.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>12-02-2010, 09:16:30</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"I won't peak this time," he promised as he led her into a small cabinet.&nbsp; Clearly privacy wasn't the issue that the shower had been constructed for.&nbsp; It was a single square room with a round seat in the middle and a kind of bench all around the edges.&nbsp; Probably designed for the occasion in which it was exceptionally hard to stand, or when recovering from injury.<br><br>"I'll try to find you something to wear," he said as he draped the cape up over the door behind her, blocking her from view.&nbsp; Giving her that privacy.&nbsp; Technically both of them had just seen everything she had to hide.&nbsp; At least physically.&nbsp; But after the ordeal that Nightwing imagined she'd just gone through, there were emotional scars that she might be more comfortable reflecting on with privacy.<br><br>He sat near the door, having come back with a pair of tights that looked like they'd fit her.&nbsp; It was a little awkward picturing her in his old tights... the Robin costume he hadn't worn since he was sixteen years old.&nbsp; Two more boys had worn a variant of this costume since he'd put it away.&nbsp; Part of him was amazed that Bruce had even still kept it...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>12-02-2010, 09:29:43</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				For a moment, all she could do was stand in the shower, looking at it. She was reluctant to release the cape, but knew that eventually she would have to. Why did it feel different now? Nightwing saw her naked before; twice now, if she remembered correctly, and she hadn’t been shy in the past. With a reluctant sigh, the cape was released; but not after the water had started.<br><br>The moment she felt steam hit her flesh she moaned; salvation in warmth, as if the shower was able to wash away all those horrible things. Sweat and grime, residue from Clayface, the sap from Ivy, her own excitement. Sam washed herself as thoroughly as she could, even blessed with something as simple as soap. She lathered up her short hair and cleaned it three times before taking the bar over her body once again.<br><br>She normally was ‘in and out’, but there was no rushing this time. The heat from the water was almost scalding, but it was renewing and took part of the black from her soul. Eventually her legs gave out; Sam was still allowed to soak in the warmth from the chair in the center of the room, head tilted down, water dripping from her nose, chin, parted lips, and tangling in the thick lashes that protected her eyes. She felt more secure now, more of herself, like when she first met Nightwing. The water caused her wounds to scream in pain but even then that was bliss.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>12-02-2010, 09:36:15</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He didn't have any intention of rushing her.&nbsp; If he could, he'd rush every survivor in Gotham into that shower just so that they could do exactly what she was doing.&nbsp; But if only a select few could experience it.&nbsp; Let it be the ones that earned it.&nbsp; A soft sigh escaped his lips as he reached up and pulled the mask off of his face.&nbsp; Everyone always assumed it was just glued there, but in reality it was a hard vacuum seal.&nbsp; Normally he didn't feel it after a while, but for some reason... just now... it felt like a hundred pounds.<br><br>His deep blue eyes were red and raw from having seen the world through the lenses for so long now.&nbsp; A red mark made a W shape across his face under both of his eyes where the mask poked into his cheeks.&nbsp; He set it down next to him, then pulled the tight kevlar top off of his body, once again exposing his chest.&nbsp; He was bruised where she'd kicked him, and there was a bit of a welt growing on his face here her punch had landed.&nbsp; Nothing he hadn't had before...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>12-02-2010, 09:49:49</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She didn’t start sobbing. Maybe that would have been a healthier outlet? Sam sat, medicated, cleared her thoughts and allowed her body to relax. She absorbed the heat, allowed calm to ease into her body, and lost track of all sense of time. There was only the rushing water, the spray against her body, the pink of her skin as it grew warm. Everything bad washed off of her and down the drain, and even after she sat and basked in the warmth. Slowly Sam stretched, loosening muscles that began to cramp, eyes shut, lips parted, occasionally flicking out a pink tongue to drink the water from her lips. There was a solid ground beneath Sam’s leg now, no tremble in her knees, and it wasn’t until she was growing thirsty as her body began to heat up that she called out softly. “Nightwing?”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>12-02-2010, 09:52:16</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He paused for a second, unsure whether or not she really wanted an answer or if she just wanted to know that he was there, "Yeah?" he asked with a gentle tap against the glass.&nbsp; He didnt' move the cape.&nbsp; He didn't do anything that would have taken away from her privacy.&nbsp; But... he did add one piece of information, "It's Dick.&nbsp; By the way..." she'd earned that much today.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>12-02-2010, 09:58:05</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It was comforting to know that he was still there; his absence had gone unnoticed as she basked in the warmth of the water. Hearing his voice only now made Sam realize how connected to him she was. He had been the first soul she’s seen since this chaos started. He had kept her safe, humored her, made her smile, and rescued her before she was lost completely from Ivy’s poison. Perhaps it was silly and cliché, but Sam didn’t want to lose sight of him, she felt too connected and secure.<br><br>But she hadn’t expected a name, and a name given so casually. That silenced her for a moment, long enough to breathe for a few moments and try to feel how it was settling on her shoulders. Dick… She nodded, but then remembered that he couldn’t see it. “Dick… will you come in here? Please?”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>12-02-2010, 10:01:51</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The request was odd, or at least a little unexpected.&nbsp; The day had been a little bit crazy.&nbsp; Encounters with the Joker.&nbsp; Another horde.&nbsp; Clayface.&nbsp; Ivy.&nbsp; He had his ideas of what happened when she was with Ivy, but he wasn't about to pry.&nbsp; He should walk away, give her what she needed instead of what she thought she wanted.&nbsp; But... he'd never been good at that.&nbsp; He surrenderred to the lips of a girl every time...<br><br>Don't be stupid, Dick, he reminded himself.&nbsp; There was no reason to believe that was what she meant by such a simple request, "Is there something wrong?" he asked pushing the cape to the side slightly, leaning his unmasked face near the door without actually looking in on her privacy, "Do you need something?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>12-02-2010, 10:09:33</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Sam was standing by, and while he wasn’t looking directly at her, even the way she held herself was better. There was more security there, more certainty and less of that self loathing. But there was also an uncertain twisting her lips as she trapped the lower between her teeth. It was stupid but… she needed to know. When Nightwing pushed the curtain aside, looked in, Sam gently opened the glass and sighed at the cool air that rushed in.<br><br>“I need something from you.” There was no dreamy haze in her voice that might suggest influence from another party; just that soft, almost shy lilt in her voice. A hand reached out, pressing against his bare chest and against one of the bruises she knew she was the cause of. But she didn’t look up at his face, not yet, just in case he hadn’t meant for her to. She beckoned him closer, drawing him in.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>12-02-2010, 10:14:49</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He'd seen this before, but for whatever reason had never been able to just say no to it.&nbsp; It had destroyed so many relationships that he'd tried to build.&nbsp; This kind of submission to the high of adrenaline.&nbsp; But... once again, he found himself stepping into the shower with a girl who probably would have been better served by his telling her that the timing was bad, "The adrenaline, Samantha... it can... sometimes make you do things you regret later," he said to her.&nbsp; He wasn't going anywhere.&nbsp; Even if it weren't for his promise, he wasn't strong enough to resist the pull she had.&nbsp; But he didn't want her to regret this.&nbsp; Didn't want her to regret trusting him...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>12-02-2010, 10:34:04</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				“I know…” She answered while she stepped in closer, briefly resting her head against his chest while her fingers trailed his arms, and then narrowed to curl beside her head. “I know. But I just want… one thing; I… need to prove something. When I woke up… Clayface he… I thought he was the both of you. I… thought he… and…” She shook her head and only now looked up.<br><br>Handsome. The sort of attractive that was dangerous, the sort of face that shouldn’t be buried behind a mask. Sam felt her chest clamp and her stomach flutter- there was no denying her attraction to him. She was sure plenty had felt the same. Sam didn’t want to look away, and so instead of closing her eyes, she lifted a hand to cup his jaw. “He kissed me, Dick, and he made me believe it was you. Will you kiss me now? Ease my mind.” She licked her lips, knowing she was asking for a lot. “I need to feel the difference; I don’t want to flinch when I’m near you… you don’t deserve that. Please…”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>12-02-2010, 22:07:03</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Before he'd become the super-criminal known as Clayface... Matt Hagen had widely been regarded one of the greatest actors of all time.&nbsp; He had been known for his diversity, staring in a wider range and more leading roles than any other actor in history.&nbsp; Once going so far as to say that he never liked to play the same part twice.&nbsp; But, Matt Hagan was a method actor.&nbsp; He played his parts by studying his role.&nbsp; He could exactly emulate the movements of Nightwing, the mannerisms of Nightwing, the speech paterns of Nightwing...<br><br>But he'd never studied this.<br><br>Dick Grayson's lips pressed against Samantha's with gravity.&nbsp; As if he threw himself completely into it, the entire world forcing them together more than the desires of either one of them.&nbsp; It was the kind of kiss that one lost themselves in.&nbsp; Everything he did was poetry.&nbsp; Lyrical.&nbsp; A thousand colors of emotion all centerred on a single point... and all devoted to a single person.&nbsp; Right now that person was Samantha Adams.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>12-02-2010, 22:26:07</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It was exactly what Sam needed; the kiss spoke from the soul, it was the man’s signature. It was now only too obvious how different they were. The first had been a surprise, and as enduring as the situation would have allowed. But this one was different. This one forced everything else in the world to be put at bay, consumed and forgotten as their lips met. There was no timid shy sound, or hesitation on Sam’s part; she drank it in, pulling him closer while rocking onto the tips of her toes to press her lips all the more closer.<br><br>Even when the moment allowed to pull away Sam didn’t. She lingered, savoring the taste of him, the warmth of the water at her back. She allowed everything to be forgotten as her body swelled with the simple pleasures of emotion. Sam curled her hand in Nightwing’s hair, cupping the remaining against his neck. It felt too perfect to stop now, not just yet.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>12-02-2010, 22:48:46</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The hot water ran over his face, collecting in the grooves left by the mask, making them shimmer slightly in what there was of the soft light.&nbsp; It gave him the appearance of having been crying.&nbsp; It gave him the look of someone who had just been saved.&nbsp; Maybe this was one of the many many reasons why Dick Grayson could never completely detatch like Bruce had managed to do.&nbsp; His biological father had often said that women were the weakness of any Grayson man.&nbsp; He'd said it as a warning.&nbsp; It was supposed to make him act cautiously around women.&nbsp; But it wasn't a curse, it was a gift...<br><br>He wouldn't trade the feeling for anything.&nbsp; His heart could be broken a thousand times by a thousand different women.&nbsp; Each one would be different.&nbsp; When he was with the Titans a lot of his peers used to joke that he was something of a manwhore.&nbsp; So casual about everything he did.&nbsp; But it was a lie.&nbsp; Dick Grayson had never been casual about sex.&nbsp; About women.&nbsp; He'd been in love every time...<br><br>The water rolled down his face and he pressed his lips to hers again.&nbsp; This time softer, more tenderly, with just a hint of command.&nbsp; Like kissing her knight in the rain...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>12-02-2010, 22:58:48</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Still there was no tremble; Sam didn’t have the confusion or the uncertainties of before. The ground was solid under her feet, Dick was real in her arms, and the embrace from his kiss pushed life back into her soul. She kissed him in the only way she knew how; surrendering everything, gifting everything, and slowly she drank the water from his lips as if they were beautiful treasures that kept her alive.<br><br>He did what she asked, but still Sam didn’t draw away. She was captivated by it all, savored every moment they were allowed. So she took it, clutched him and kissed him, letting him feel those worries drain from her body, shifting to confidence once again.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>12-02-2010, 23:07:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				There was a definite authority in his hands.&nbsp; This was a man that knew what he was doing when it came to the touch of a woman, "You'll have to stop me," he said.&nbsp; The tone of his voice making it very clear that he wouldn't hold it against her at all if she did... but that he wasn't going to cease unless she told him to.<br><br>His kiss pressed againt the bottom of her lip just above her chin.&nbsp; Then on the chin itself.&nbsp; His hands using a gentle force to guide her downward into the chair in the middle of the room, directly under the most intense of water.&nbsp; Once he had her sitting, his hands guided her arms behind her back... there was a sense he might have bound them there if he hadn't left his equipment outside.&nbsp; Slowly his kisses worked their way down to her collar bone.&nbsp; This wasn't about trapping her.&nbsp; She wasn't a prisoner, or a victim.&nbsp; She was a goddess... this was worship...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>12-02-2010, 23:13:02</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The humidity grew, and Sam was becoming aware of how difficult it was to breathe. There was no panic or rush, just slow, deep breathes as the woman tilted her head back and moaned as he spoke and kissed his way down her body. “I don’t want you to stop.” She murmured, her voice almost lost behind the crashing water, slurred together, drunk off of her sudden longing.<br><br>&nbsp;A shiver found her spine, dancing up the curve to send it bowing for him. There was no way possible she could be cold, so it was quite evident that she liked what he was doing with his hands, his lips. Dark lashes fluttered, tangling with the drops of wet from the shower, fighting the battle to open so that she could look at her hero’s face. That particular sense wasn’t cooperating, though she didn’t mind. Sam was too busy remembering how to breathe.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>12-02-2010, 23:36:26</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				His hands softly stroked over her breasts and he placed a firm kiss directly between the two of them, sliding to his knees in front of her.&nbsp; Dominant thumbs rolled over her nipples, pinching them against the knuckle of his hand.&nbsp; It wasn't clumbsy.&nbsp; It wasn't vulgar.&nbsp; It was done with practice, like he knew eactly how they were supposed to be touched.<br><br>The hero's lips never seemed to go where they were expected to go.&nbsp; Rather than kiss or suck at her nipples, they found her navel.&nbsp; Kissing it, licking inside it softly.&nbsp; His hands didn't kneed or paw at her breasts, they massaged her chest.&nbsp; His lips found her hip, kissing oh so gently... almost like he was just breathing on her skin now.&nbsp; A soft faint bite as if to assert his dominance and remind her that he was there.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>13-02-2010, 00:51:05</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Her back undulated at every pinch from those hands; her lips parted, and each heavy pant sent a soft spray of water from her full lips. Sam moaned as she watched him through the crack between her lashes, his dark hair matted down from the water, eyes closed, mouth hungry across her skin. Even after what happened… he wasn’t repulsed to touch her. He seemed more incline to take control of the situation, to tease her body to forget those ghostly shadows of Clayface and Ivy thrusting.<br><br>And when he bit her, Sam cooed. She lifted her hips, rocking them forward as if pleading with his direction, wanting him to slip away from her hip, towards that soft wet apex between her legs. “Oh god…” It was a whisper, a faint sound, but with the acoustics of the shower, it echoed and sounded a little louder than she intended.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>13-02-2010, 01:05:21</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Look at me," he pleaded, "Don't turn away.&nbsp; If you think I'm someone else, feel my heartbeat.&nbsp; Watch the water not melt me away..." he said in a soft whisper, equally as echoed by the acoustics of the shower.&nbsp; Yet simultaneously muffled by the constant sound of falling water.<br><br>"... and tell me to stop if ever you don't trust me," he said as his lips began drifting dangerously closer and closer to her smooth sex.&nbsp; Every kiss he lay upon her flesh carried all the electricity and potence of the kiss he'd pressed into her lips.&nbsp; It would be so easy for him to mix in declarations of emotion into the moment.&nbsp; But he didn't say it.&nbsp; He didn't ruin the moment by making it anything more than whatever she let it be inside her head.&nbsp; Women complained that they didn't hear about the feelings of men... but the truth, in Dick's experience... they always wanted to say it first.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>13-02-2010, 01:17:15</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She shook her head and that fine trembling began to start. “No, Mmm, no I know it’s you…” Again her words bled together, and Sam’s face was twisted in pleasure. She remained cupping the back of his head, watching him from over the swell of her breasts, the shudder that took her whole body. Sam watched him and groaned as he spoke, her fingers curling into his hair until they sprouted from between her fingers.<br><br>“Don’t stop, Dick… don’t stop.”<br><br>She whimpered as he pushed closer, blinking past the falling water to watch his mouth. She couldn’t stop purring for more, entranced by the banding water that coiled around their flesh, trying to bring them together, to merge. “Please don’t stop…” Closer, still he wasn’t touching, but Sam watched him in anticipation, hungry for more.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>13-02-2010, 01:21:08</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				In so many ways, he knew this made him a horrible person.&nbsp; The condition they found her in, her eagerness to shower, her eagerness to be touched by someone else, the way she did everything but talk about what happened to her... everything pointed to rape.&nbsp; He should he strong and consoling for her.&nbsp; She would hate him later for this.&nbsp; She would abhor him for pressing his lips against the mound of her cunt and kissing it lovingly.<br><br>It wasn't the vulgar possessive way that Clayface had done it in Dick's image.&nbsp; When his lips fell close to her pussy it was as if he genuinely and deeply believed it to be the most beautiful thing in the world.&nbsp; Worthy of worship and adoration.&nbsp; As if he needed her permission to even lay his eyes upon it.&nbsp; He kissed it again, licking just slightly, his hands gripping just a little harder on her breasts now.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>13-02-2010, 03:02:26</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Perfection. Every moment his lips spent on her skin was perfection, until Sam was a quivering mess, full of adoration with the care he took to her body. This was new; not basic rutting, but full of the tenderness and care she craved to have. Sam was always aware of her desire of others; to be connected it someone, to feel as if the past of losing everyone was over with. And here… there was a glimmer of that.<br><br>Perhaps it was silly, foolish and because of the stress and Clayface’s haunted words that Sam was believing that… maybe… She was scared of the truth, though she wasn’t sure if it was denial or acceptance.<br><br>She bit her lower lip unable to look away from his mouth as he kissed her, licked her, and teased her breasts. “Oh god… yes…”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>13-02-2010, 03:20:56</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Reverence itself was poured from his lips over the mound of her sex, before finally he placed a kiss on the pungeantly fragrant opening of her slit itself.&nbsp; He didn't shy away from it.&nbsp; Giving this act as much attention to detail as he had every thing that had led up to it.&nbsp; His tongue just barely poking out from between his lips, twisting and curling and spelling her name in cursive against the folds of her pussy.&nbsp; Secret messages written to her core.<br><br>He hummed a little as he did so.&nbsp; A melodyless tune that carried in vibrations through his tongue and lips as he pressed them against her body.&nbsp; Inside his tights, his cock was growing rigid and firm, straining against them as if desperate to be released.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>13-02-2010, 04:11:11</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Her purrs turned to soft coos of delight, that agile tongue doing wicked things to her. Sure, it couldn’t move unnaturally like Ivy’s vines had… but Nightwing had more heart, more gusto, more passion than the green lady could even hope. Despite the wet of their bodies, it was evident that Samantha was excited. Her sex was moist, his tongue rewarded with the slick excitement that was sweet and eager for more.<br><br>Another groan, from deeper in her chest now. Sam’s hands coiled down his body, tracing scars, following the hard lines of muscles, reaching where his actions allowed and her arms could stretch.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>13-02-2010, 04:21:47</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				A silent message written with his tongue, even as he spoke the words in a quiet whisper against the folds of her cunt.&nbsp; The point of his pink tongue disappearing into her body as deep as he could, his teeth grinding over her clit with the protection of his lips.&nbsp; Everything seemed carefully planned, rhythmic.&nbsp; Like a song he'd practiced a thousand times before on an instrument he had long ago masterred.<br><br>Maybe it was rare for a man to give such loving and fond and dedicated attention to his lovers pussy?&nbsp; Dick didn't think so.&nbsp; He always spent so much time working on the orgasm of his partner.&nbsp; He wasn't a tantric lover.&nbsp; But he didn't like to rush things.&nbsp; Her body was something delicious worth savoring.&nbsp; The soft hums of delight letting her know that he felt that way, that her taste was both unique and amazing... and he would drink her in like fine wine, not devour her like a quick snack...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>13-02-2010, 04:33:32</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Slowly, deeply, she breathed, filling her lungs completely before exhaling out. Sam cleaned back now and propped her body up on her elbows, making it easier to watch his face and meet his eyes without putting any strain on him. So here she was bare for him, stretched out, her small frame taunt and eager. Each brush of his tongue, hum and sigh left her feeling captivated, eager and almost overwhelmed. Her previous lovers never showed emotions. The first time had been fumbling fingers and nervous uncertainties. Clayface and Ivy had their own emotions, but neither one had been… pure in their rawest form. Watching him taste her made Sam ache. It was as if he cared, truly, not just running off of hormones. He made her feel important, as if even after everything, Sam wasn’t corrupt. She loved it.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>13-02-2010, 04:41:45</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				There was a stamina to his attention.&nbsp; Never pulling back to come up for air, never breaking the mood to rub at his jaw.&nbsp; He'd found a perfect balance, his tongue sliding deep into her body coaxing the moisture to him as if he needed to drink it to save his soul.&nbsp; His teeth rubbed raw against her clit this time to excite her as he sucked it into his mouth for just a second.&nbsp; Her pussy was the holy grail... and he needed it to make this moment last forever.<br><br>His hands never wanderred aimlessly over her skin.&nbsp; Always they seemed to have a very specific destination, always in tandem.&nbsp; A mirror of one another, symetrically probing along the length of her flesh... ever so slightly breaking the symetry just enough to be completely unpredictable to her.&nbsp; One second his hands might be picking her up to bring her closer to his face, and the next up near her breasts, paying attention to one nipple while tauntingly ignoring the other...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>13-02-2010, 06:54:24</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Sam gasped at the drag of his teeth; that startled, pleased sound when he did something perfectly and caught her by surprise. It was the suck of her clit, that moment brought her on the cusp of an orgasm, far faster than anything else had done before. “A-Again!” She begged, rocking her hips forward and sealed her eyes shut. Sam felt that orgasm bubbling right on the verge, and slowly it was receding back. Torture… but the best of ways. She cried out softly and ached for release. “Make me cum,” She whispered, pleading.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>13-02-2010, 06:59:54</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The sound of her suddenly talking dirty was a little bit of a shock.&nbsp; Not a mood killer, but definitely a mood twister.&nbsp; It meant two things... that she wasn't the delicate little virgin he might have believed her to be... and that he was totally in control of this moment.&nbsp; He took his jolly sweet time obeying her request, carving her name and his name into the depths of her cunt... drinking her sweetness... even going so far as to place kisses lower and lower towards her anus completely abandoning her clit for the moment.&nbsp; But when he did return to it, it was with fierce passion, sucking it in with immense force and trapping it like a villain between his teeth.&nbsp; He didn't apply any pressure on it, but the evident threat that he could was enough.&nbsp; His hands gripping her hips almost hard enough to leave bruises, holding her in place while he sucked her sex... threatening to tear it completely free from her body if she didn't moan for him...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>13-02-2010, 07:25:06</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She tried to be quiet; Sam knew that sound traveled in caves, and even with the rushing water, well… It was only polite not to make Batman hear this. But she couldn’t help it; Nightwing turned from loving to possessed, and it had been… deliciously perfect. She squirmed and it was only his vice-like grip that kept her from bucking away from him or off of the seat, a keening wail of release parting her lips and bursting forth as if seeking its own life.<br><br>Sam came hard, and Sam came good, the sort of rushing release that left her light headed and confused as to which direction was up and which was down. It lasted until her muscles began to cramp, flexing hard and long, already exhausted from previous activities. Quick, heavy pants left her mouth as she gasped and groaned, trembling as her clit began almost too sensitive to touch. It was only then that she tried to break away from Dick’s hold, and instead of running or basking, Sam was sliding off of her chair to kneel before Nightwing.<br><br>She crawled forward, and in doing so forced Nightwing to lay back until he was propping himself up on her elbows, Sam’s lips stealing his, savoring the taste of her on his mouth. She had a greedy tongue, one that welcomes itself in his mouth, seeking every last drop.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>13-02-2010, 07:37:38</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				If for no other reason than the curiosity of where she was going with this sudden burst of authority, he lay backward and accept the treatment.&nbsp; His lips pleased to accept her so long as she savored the flavor of her own cunt against his tongue.&nbsp; His arms wrapped around her at the shoulders holding onto her to keep himself positioned.&nbsp; Perhaps it was a little submissive, but she was a damn hero today... maybe she deserved to be in charge for just a moment?
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>13-02-2010, 07:41:29</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Sam savored his mouth, the way he pulled her close until her bare chest was smashed against his, and even then she could feel his heart beat echoing her own. She thanked him in a primitive way, speaking with her lips, the pleased purr fed into his mouth, the gentle scrape of her nails against his flesh. But she didn't linger long, once the taste of her was gone. No... Sam drew her lips to the side, towards his ear, nibbling the lobe, and that soft hallow beneath his ear. She worked down lower with sharp pinches of her teeth, pausing only long enough to speak against his wet collar bone. "I won't stop until you tell me too..." It was her turn now.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>13-02-2010, 07:49:18</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Don't be gentle," he teased with just the slightest sense of humor, "This is not my first time." It was his side glanced way of telling her that he wasn't going to stop her any sooner than she'd stopped him.&nbsp; That, maybe even she <em>owed </em> this to him just a little?&nbsp; But without sounding callous or uncaring.&nbsp; The scarred muscles of his chest and stomach were just a little more firm than when she'd been cleaning his wound the previous day.&nbsp; Had she thougth this was going to happen then?<br><br>His body was toned beyond definition.&nbsp; The pinacle of what he represented.&nbsp; The acrobat, the dancer.&nbsp; The lines of his muscle tone, carved out of his flesh every bit as much as they could be.&nbsp; And each muscle on his body receptive to the feel of her lips against it...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>13-02-2010, 09:05:03</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She bit harder; he told her not to be gentle, so she wasn’t. Sam left the imprint of her teeth in his flesh, which lingered even as she moved her lips further down his body, kissing around his navel. She liked the taste of water on his skin, the way her lips smoothed over the ridged muscles, feeling him breathe, simply being alive under her. He tastes good, fresh, the sort of flavor that kept tugging you back for more.<br>So she bit him, again and again, a little harder each time to test how he liked it, easing if it ever became too much. Sam came to the point of reaching the hem of his pants. Her hands followed the path of her mouth, curling around the band of his pants and began to work them down, And as inch by inch was freed, her lips dipped down, tasting the new skin there as it was washed with the warmth of the water, and the fleeting butterfly kisses.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>13-02-2010, 09:19:32</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Most of his reactions weren't verbal as much as they were physical.&nbsp; Occasionally he would shiver at the feeling of her teeth sinking into his flesh, or wince just a little, but never was he audible enough to give her a direct feedback.&nbsp; Words were unnecessary, enjoy the silence.&nbsp; The sound of water falling over them... it was starting to get cold from the heater running out of stored water, but he didn't seem to mind.&nbsp; All it meant was that his skin was goosepimpled and more attentive to her touch.<br><br>The rigid length of his sex was already standing at attention, eager in anticipation for her.&nbsp; To say that he liked where this was going would have been the understatement of the decade.&nbsp; He wouldn't have been pleased to know that Clayface had been particularly generous where his manhood was concerned.&nbsp; He wasn't small, necessarily, but compared to what had enterred her earlier in the day it was uncannily average.&nbsp; Still, unlike anything Clayface had been able to offer her... it was warm, and it tasted of flesh and salt and sweat and running water...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>13-02-2010, 09:34:27</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				His pants were pushed off of his hips, down his legs, and discarded quickly. She left them in a heap in the corner, sopping wet just like the both of them were. And just as her mouth had been greedy before; it was greedy now. Truth be told, had he been as large as Clayface made him out to be, Sam would have had a hard time, possibly unable to do the things she wanted to do. Like open her mouth, as she did, and relaxed her throat. Like taking him as deep as she could, caressing him with her tongue as she slowly drew him from her mouth.<br><br>Sam sucked, licked, and fucked his cock with her mouth, moaning her pleasure at the heat against her tongue, allowing a hand to travel, cupping his balls and running up and down his length in tandem of her mouth. There was no shyness, this was something the woman wanted to do, and allowed herself the luxury of doing it.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>13-02-2010, 09:41:36</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				There was no sign of protest.&nbsp; If anything, the fact that the woman had a clear and strong knowledge of what she was doing... and exactly what she wanted to do... seemed to be deeply appreciated.&nbsp; A soft gasp escaped his lips and his breathing seemed to become shallow just for a little bit as his hand found the side of her face.&nbsp; In his experience a woman hated when a man set his hand on the back of her head.&nbsp; Something that he understood.&nbsp; That feeling of being coached or forced... if a woman knew what she was doing, she didn't need to be guided... and more often than not she would appreciate being left to her work.<br><br>But the gentle loving carress at her cheek was more of a sign of acceptance.&nbsp; That nothing that she could do, no debauchery should could willingly subject herself to would make him think of her as anything less than a goddess on Earth.&nbsp; She could be his whore and she would still always be his Madonna.&nbsp; His deep eyes stayed open, and never pulled away from watching her... marvelling at her work.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>13-02-2010, 09:49:43</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She enjoyed how he touched her face; any contact at all was appreciated, really. She wasn't too fast, or too slow, while Sam bobbed her head it was in that rhythm that suggested patience. She wanted that heavy build, the one that left the man panting and lifting from the ground as he struggled to ride the waves. Sam wanted Nightwing to cry out her name through gritted teeth, as if he wasn't certain if it were a praise or curse for what she reduced him to.<br><br>More and more she relaxed her throat, building up her resistance until Sam was able to take every inch of him into her mouth, lips sealed around his base, eyes open and staring up at his face. She enjoyed the look in his eyes, the way that he blinked and breathed, watching her work, aroused and hot against her flesh. She especially enjoyed the sounds, what she was able to steal from his chest.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>13-02-2010, 10:12:41</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He smirked down at her, craning his body over her and lifting her from the ground just slightly.&nbsp; His muscles strained as he snaked himself under her, slowly sliding his face back between her legs.&nbsp; The way his lips once again found her sex was like he'd missed the taste in the short moments since he'd last sampled it.&nbsp; The angle was different, his nose lodged slightly in the most pungeant parts of her cunt as his tongue grinded against her clit from the opposite angle.<br><br>The way his body reacted to her his dick in her mouth seemed even more intensified now, as his body quiverred under hers occasionally... with clear and definite reactions coming from his face against her pussy.&nbsp; It was fairly clear that he enjoyed her flavor.&nbsp; One hand rubbed at the curve of her ass, slowly crawling down the crack to tease at her anus.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>13-02-2010, 20:00:58</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She trusted him completely, and so didn’t stop until she was forced to as Dick positioned himself under her. There were no complaints; just soft coos of pleasure, even as her sensitive bud was met by his hungry mouth once again. This sent Sam writhing, calling out softly and forcing that rumbling moan against his cock and down its length with half of it still down her throat. The position was completely new to her; however there was no intimidation with that.<br><br>Even with his fingers drifting closer, teasing for that curve of her ass, Sam continued to stroke him, caressing him with her mouth. Through it was becoming difficult to give him pleasure without pausing to moan her own.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>13-02-2010, 22:21:26</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The ease with which he had put her there was likely evidence to suggest that this wasn't new to him.&nbsp; The lovingly feverish hunger which which he attacked her cunt was another sign of how comfortable he was.&nbsp; There were no complaints or confusion when she paused to moan softly with his length in her mouth.&nbsp; All it seemed to do was encourage him, glistens of precum soaking the head of his shaft with saltwater flavor.&nbsp; When his fingers spread the puckered hole of her ass just a little and slid two of them inside his meaning became clear.&nbsp; He was now inside her at every possible port of entry... while it certainly wasn't as full as Clayface had made her earlier in the day... there gentleness that the actor wouldn't have been able to emulate.&nbsp; A kind of loving possession... she was his to protect.&nbsp; His to please.&nbsp; His to enjoy.&nbsp; His to hold.&nbsp; Just simply <em>his</em>.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>13-02-2010, 22:35:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She enjoyed the taste of him; it was real, no façade of flowers that made him sweet against her tongue. Sam liked the honesty of that; was this silly? Did she even care? The woman moaned and sighed as she settled comfortably against him, her mouth hot and hungry, wet and eager to please him; but there was no rush. If she was flicking his tip with her tongue, she was then cupping his balls, or sucking them into her mouth. Always hands and mouth worked together, seeking more of those moans and sighs from him; even as he pushed those digits into her ass. Though it made her pause; not in uncertainty but simply to make sure her breathing picked back up. A whimpering purring was pushed against his thigh before she gently nipped the flesh and returned her mouth to him.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>13-02-2010, 22:41:45</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He kept the intrusion into her ass to only three fingers... just slightly thicker than the piece of him that she had in her mouth, and with only half the length.&nbsp; His free hand moving under her body to grip at her breast and squeeze it in encouragement when she pulled her lips away as if pleading for her to go back to what she was doing with her mouth.&nbsp; Either to punish or to coax her, his tongue's attention drifted back away from her clit, moving deeper into her pussy, closer to his fingers...<br><br>The smell of it was so alluring.&nbsp; Raw and hot and wet and thick and overpowering.&nbsp; From this angle he did have to occasionally move back to breath as her soft waiting folds spent some time locked around his nose.&nbsp; But each time sent him back faster than the last.&nbsp; He was addicted to her...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>13-02-2010, 23:05:16</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It was still a stretch, and her lean muscles strained to take him in, moaning throaty and low as Sam’s high grew. It felt wonderful, all of it, Sam’s body began to tremble with her need and desire though she didn’t take her lips from him any longer than was needed to breathe. She wanted his release more than he did and not just because Clayface had failed to or that Ivy did. Samantha wanted that final completion, to give her hero something more than a ‘thank you’. He saved her, and in these moments Sam was giving all of herself over to him. She wasn’t withdrawing or hiding or going to run away. She wanted him. All of him.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>13-02-2010, 23:24:00</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The way his dick throbbed and quiverred in her mouth suggested that he was holding back.&nbsp; As if insisting on sending her over the edge again before he was going to even allow himself to release.&nbsp; It was simple math... sex was always at least nearing completion once a man climaxed.&nbsp; He wanted her to want more, of course, but he wanted to give her as much as he could.&nbsp; She thought that she owed him this for what he'd done... but he owed it to her for just having been there.<br><br>His tongue moved back towards her front and he sucked her clit into his mouth again as if he were trying to pull it off of her body.&nbsp; The fingers in her ass moving in and out with a distinct rhythm.&nbsp; And his squeezing again on her breast.&nbsp; He wanted something from her.&nbsp; Needed it... but could only speak the request into her cunt...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>13-02-2010, 23:55:09</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				His response was a quivering moan that pitched in the shower and echoed in their ears. Even with her mouth around his cock the sound was clear, and her own hips bucked in an attempt to get away. She didn’t want him to stop, but it was a body’s reaction as if it were too much pleasure at once. Her cunt clenched around his probing tongue as if trying to pull it deeper into herself. There was no question as to what he was seeking, and so Sam eased a little with his cock, but in no means stopping. Let them build… a little longer, and then together, maybe they would find their release.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>14-02-2010, 00:02:16</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				His cock was practically flexing tightly in her mouth.&nbsp; Their standoff was becoming a full fledged battle.&nbsp; He pinched her clit between his lip coverred teeth holding it hostage under the condition that she moan around his cock again... he wanted to cum directly into the exortation of her own climax.&nbsp; His fingers probed with more tenacity, and his grip on her breast became more fierce.&nbsp; It was hard to believe he was the hero right now... as he attacked her body with all the precision of a super villain...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>14-02-2010, 00:08:40</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He was cruel; but this cruelty she thoroughly enjoyed. The man made the woman whimper and squirm atop him in her vain attempt at gaining control. But the more he ravaged her clit, the more Sam realized that she was going to lose. This would be her fourth orgasm in a span of a couple hours; but only two of those were ones she wanted to remember. Sam cried out her defeat, bucking as her hands gripped his hips, and her mouth continued working at his cock.<br><br>And then she came, whimpering and losing her sense of time and body language. She arched and bucked, she undulated and struggled to break free even though that was the last thing she wanted. Sam never once pulled away from him; moaning against his cock as her mouth continued to work, wanting nothing more than to push him over that edge.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>14-02-2010, 00:26:08</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				His gripping hand released her breast to wrap around her waste and hold her close.&nbsp; His mouth on her clit became interupted with heavy pants and strained attempts at regaining control.&nbsp; But the head of his cock throbbed in her mouth.&nbsp; Just as he had envisioned, hot jets of cum bursting from his length into her throat to muffle her moan.&nbsp; Likely she wouldn't be able to swallow it with the moans escaping her throat... but he didn't care.&nbsp; It was a mix of shame at releasing himself inside her mouth and a twisted primal pride... wanting her to have every bit of it.&nbsp; Simultaneously wanting to appologize for it, and yet wanting her to worship his seed as if it were the essense of life...<br><br>In a way... he supposed...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>14-02-2010, 00:38:39</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Sam felt another wave of pleasure as he released in her mouth; it wasn’t a complete surprise, she was expecting it, but when the hot jets hit her tongue she could only at first moan. And then she began to swallow, lapping it up with her tongue, savoring it as it slid down her throat and into her belly. Sam wasn’t disgusted, she was pleased, and even when she was forced to release him from her mouth, gasping for breath, her tongue dipped forward, cleaning him before the water could cleanse it all away, obviously pleased with his release.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>14-02-2010, 01:01:26</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"If you two are done," Batmans' gravelly shadow of a voice echoed over the cave, "We should probably start coming up with a way to be certain none of us are Clayface in the future."<br><br>How very Batman.&nbsp; Logical and tactical and oh so very terrible at timing.&nbsp; Also with just that extra kick of being able to mention the very last thing that Samantha probably wanted to think about after engaging in such an activity.&nbsp; Dick smiled at her, "World's greatest detective.&nbsp; We weren't going to keep that from him for long... especially since there's not a lot people can do in a shower for an hour..."<br><br>He reached his soaked pants and pulled them onto his legs, "I have um... some of my old clothes for you..."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>14-02-2010, 01:51:08</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It would have been nice to have been allowed a few moments to bask; Batman’s voice made Sam wince, though somehow she was expecting it to come out of the shadows. His suggestion was wise, but it left her feeling uncomfortable all over again. Perhaps the man didn’t know what sensitivity was. Or simply didn’t care.<br><br>Sam turned the water off, accepting a towel to wrap around her form after trying her short hair. She followed after Dick after that, hesitating and arching a brow at his last comment. “Your clothes, or your ‘clothes’?”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>14-02-2010, 02:58:51</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				When they stepped free of the shower he picked up the neatly bundled pile of his old Robin costume.&nbsp; Given the size difference it must easily have been ten years since he'd worn it, but it was small enough for her.&nbsp; There were spots that were obviously patched over from bullet holes or knife marks and it had that stale smell of something that had been packed away for a very long time and not worn by anyone.<br><br>He handed it to her somewhat reluctantly, "I don't live with him anymore... there aren't any more of my street clothes here.&nbsp; But, I don't think our mutual friend would ever let him throw this away..." there was a sense of wonder to that.&nbsp; As if maybe he wanted it to be the other way around.&nbsp; Like he wanted his father figure to be so stubborn about letting go of the family he'd built...<br><br>Family was a very touchy subject with the both of them.&nbsp; Very rarely brought up outside of the hottest of arguments.<br><br>The costume was clearly built for a boy and would be a little wide at her waste, tight at her hips and probably a little baggy around her shoulders.&nbsp; There was also the embarassment factor that came with admitting that he used to wear this.&nbsp; A collar stuck out from the shirt where it met with the yellow cape and looked like it hadn't been cool since the late 80's.&nbsp; Instead of the padded trousers he wore in his nightwing costume it looked like underoos meant to be worn with leggings.&nbsp; The leggings themselves had been in exceptionally bad condition... and she'd have to wear it with her legs exposed.&nbsp; Probably to save his own pride... he didn't bring her the shoes to go with it...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>14-02-2010, 08:07:38</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She was beginning to wonder just what she was getting herself into. When Nightwing –no… Dick- when Dick handed over the costume she wasn’t exactly sure how she should feel. There were a couple choices, each about equal. She felt as if she were intruding. Sure, moments ago they were writhing on the shower floor, giving each other an orgasm with their mouths. But this was… something else entirely. Sam looked at the cloth in her hand, and then back up at Nightwing.<br><br>“Are… you sure? I mean… If you’ve kept this so long… Chances with how our lucks been it’s only going to get ruined.”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>14-02-2010, 08:21:07</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Well, admittedly, it's going to be a little... weirder... after what just happened," he chuckled a little and looked like he would have blushed if he were a younger less confident man, "But, we can't have you running around Gotham naked, and that's the only thing here that's mine to give.&nbsp; No matter what Batman says.&nbsp; Even if I could find clothing up in the..." he was about to say 'mansion', but that wouldn't do.&nbsp; Giving her his identity was one thing, but it wasn't his place at all to give away Bruces, "Elsewhere... it's mostly all men's clothing.&nbsp; Well, or things that I know he won't let me give to you..." There were still old pieces of Bruce's mother's clothing in his parents bedroom.&nbsp; Even Dick knew better than to disturb anything in there.<br><br>As hard as people thought Batman was to get along with... dealing with him was actually fairly simple.&nbsp; Never enter his parent's bedroom, or his father's study.&nbsp; And absolutely... under no circumstances... never... ever... bring up the name <em>Jason</em>.<br><br>"At least this keeps you from tripping over your own clothes if you need to run.&nbsp; And there's pouches in the belt for your stuff.&nbsp; You might wanna take off the cape, though," he taunted.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>14-02-2010, 08:26:03</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Sam rewarded his efforts with the traces of a smile, which then tilted in a smirk as she looked back down at the fabric. He was right, of course. And it would at least do until she got back where the other survivors were; Sam could salvage more clothing there. At least she had jeans still, discarded on one of the upstairs floors.<br><br>She did, however, remove the cape before slipping into it, admittedly feeling like a fool, but only because she felt as if she was violating something that should have remained far from her hands. As if the uniform would have better dawned a priest or someone of more respectable station than ‘raped medic’. But they were clothes. Clean clothes, on a clean body. She didn’t care that it was too big for her, it was the most comfortable she’d been in a long time.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>14-02-2010, 08:34:56</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Looks good on you," Dick said with a little bit of hesitation, "A bit disturbing because you look like you could be my little sister," he said with clear embarassment.&nbsp; There was clearly some level of confusion in his face as he obviously thougth she was attractive in the get-up... but the physical similarities they shared...<br><br>When they made their way back to Batman, however, he didn't seem pleased, "You really think she's earned that?"<br><br>"She saved the lives of more people today than you and I combined," Dick said defensively, "She went up against the Joker, Harley Quinn, Clayface, and Ivy... and she's still standing here.&nbsp; That's more than you asked of me," there was a further implication to that... the fact that Jason had needed to do even less than Dick had to earn the right to wear the costume.&nbsp; But... never mention the name Jason...<br><br>"So, yeah, I'd say she's earned some of my hand-me-downs.&nbsp; I don't think Robin will mind."<br><br>"How much did you tell her?"<br><br>Dick looked back and forth between them, "Not as much as she deserves to know.&nbsp; It's a start if Clayface tries to impersonate one of us again.&nbsp; Though, I think a set of passwords is more what you had in mind."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>14-02-2010, 08:47:41</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Sam began to fidget when Batman spoke. She wanted to get defensive, to snap at him but what good would that do? Instead she blushed softly, twisting her fingers together and averted her eyes, fighting the urge to bite her lower lip as well. He certainly did frighten her, as well as made her uncomfortable under his scrutiny. Had she done something to deserve it? Dick didn’t think so. She looked up at his unmasked face though she didn’t linger for long.<br><br>Sam forced her hands apart so she could rub the back of her neck, free arm hugging around her waist. She didn’t really feel as if she should get any praise either. But the words comforted her, even if she just wanted to grab Dick’s hand and rest her forehead against his arm. She forced herself to remain standing where she was, looking towards the Bat. “That would be… nice, actually…”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>14-02-2010, 09:06:33</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"I've no doubt that the two of you have memories enough to share now that Clayface won't be able to speak about," Batman said with just the slightest hint of sarcasm.&nbsp; Was there a sense of dark humor under that mask after all?&nbsp; "And Nightwing..." he paused, "I suppose she's calling you Dick now..." when that was confirmed he went back to what he was saying, "Dick and I have plenty of codes already.&nbsp; The problem, unfortunately, is you and I," Batman said directly addressing Samantha.<br><br>"In the Titans, we used to have a pretty easy system.&nbsp; If we needed to make sure that one of us was who we thought we were..." he pointed to himself, "I'd be Greg.&nbsp; So in this example... Batman, you'd be Mike.&nbsp; And Sam would be Marsha..." he looked between both of them with just the slightest bit of embarassment, "Brady Bunch.&nbsp; We were kids.&nbsp; It seemed clever at the time..."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>14-02-2010, 09:16:45</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She laughed softly, a light sound that trickled from her mouth to echo around them in the cave, though just as softly as she intended. She never actually watched the Brady Bunch, but she had an idea of what he was talking about, and shook her head slowly. It works, and it was nice to be Marsh. “Marsha Marsha Marsha.” Sam mumbled, still smirking up at the two men. “What happens though if we were to come across … him again?”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>14-02-2010, 09:23:15</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"He can't maintain his shape if he's hit with electrical shock," Batman began, reaching around to hand her what looked like a custom made taser.&nbsp; There was no way the man didn't have a sense of a humor when all of his equipment was so purposely made to resemble the sillouette of a flying mammal, "If you suspect one of us is him.&nbsp; Use that.&nbsp; Though, try to be certain.&nbsp; It will stun Clayface, but it's potent enough to knock out Dick or myself."&nbsp; It almost seemed like he was having second thoughts about handing it to her, but considerred that she was a single young woman living in Gotham City, she probably knew how to use one, "Saturation with water is another simple alternative.&nbsp; But a spray bottle won't work, and it's unlikely that we'd find enough running water in the city to spray down people consistantly."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>14-02-2010, 09:39:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She took the tazer only after she was certain that he wanted to hand it over. It wasn’t the first time she’d held one; they came issued with paramedics; not just in Gotham. Paramedics had to go to a lot of unsavory places in order to get to their patients. Sometimes, and she had scars to prove it, they were often the victim themselves. She hooked the new device to her belt, ever mindful of her manners. “Thank You,” and she meant it. There was a little more security in knowing she had a little possible leverage now, when it came to Clayface. But… there was one more question. Sam couldn’t help but blush fiercely at this one, averting her eyes again. “What about Ivy?”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>14-02-2010, 09:44:45</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Don't go near the park," Batman replied to her question as if it were as simple as that.<br><br>Nightwing rubbed her shoulder and elaborated, "It's the only place left in Gotham with any plants.&nbsp; Without healthy plants, she can't use her powers.&nbsp; Without her powers... it's just a matter of hitting her like everybody else.&nbsp; The taser works on her, too."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>14-02-2010, 09:55:46</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Right. As if she had a choice the last time. But at least Sam now knew that Ivy wouldn’t be strolling the streets looking for some more fun. Right? And if the stun-gun worked on her, then all the better, though Sam didn’t want to get close enough for the woman to kiss her again. “How many charges does this have, or is it a single use?”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>14-02-2010, 10:08:28</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Batman smirked and let out a sound that seemed to be something darkly akin to a one note chuckle, "Single use?" He seemed slightly amused by the fact that anything in his arsenal would be designed like that.&nbsp; "In this line of work single use is about as useless as no use.&nbsp; It builds on your kinetic energy.&nbsp; The more you move around while carrying it, the more charge it'll have.&nbsp; It stores about five charges before it needs to be completely recharged.&nbsp; In the event that you find it useless," he warned, "Better to drop it.&nbsp; I've seen you fight.&nbsp; Judo?&nbsp; Mixed with what looked like Krav Maga..." he'd only seen her throw a few punches at Nightwing... and from a side glance.&nbsp; But, he was the world's greatest.<br><br>He went on, "Which means I imagine if we give you one of Robin's retractable staffs... you should be able to use it if it comes to it."&nbsp; He handed her what looked like a metal rod no longer than the titanium eskrima sticks that Nightwing used, "You can use it as a baton, or as a staff... it also works for vaulting over things..." he looked over her body once more, "Though, I don't suspect you'll find use for gymnastics at the moment..."<br><br>"She's going to need shoes," Dick added, "Those old fairy booties that I wore aren't ideal for all the running we have to do now..."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>14-02-2010, 10:27:00</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				What the hell was she getting herself into? Sam looked down at her stun-gun, then the new staff, and finally down to her bare feet. She felt like the Raggedy-Ann of heroes. Or maybe she went shopping for a Halloween costume and ended up with pieces that awkwardly worked. Was Batman getting a kick out of this? She wasn’t. Sam felt embarrassed but allowed the cool air of the cave to take the red off of her cheeks. “I appreciate this, really. But as soon as we get back I’ll rummage through and find more clothes…” And she can get out of this costume. Though, Sam would still like to keep the tools.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>14-02-2010, 10:37:01</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"You do that," Batman insisted quickly and sternly, "But keep the defense items.&nbsp; You're too valuable to risk you stumbling around into danger again.&nbsp; I know you can protect yourself, now you have the tools to effectively do so."<br><br>Nightwing smirked at her, "Such a rush to get my clothes off," he whisperred to her, "Even when you're the one wearing them, huh?" he said it as if he just wanted to slap that scarlet blush right back on her cheek.&nbsp; Batman didn't seem to pay it any attention.&nbsp; As if he were simply used to Dick flirting with girls.&nbsp; Were he a more normal man, he might have admired the talent his adopted son had with the ladies.&nbsp; But he seemed to regard it more as a liability... then again, at least the women Dick tended to pick up weren't exactly the helpless types...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>14-02-2010, 10:48:57</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She actually had to resist the urge to scowl. Hadn’t she just suggested that? She didn’t need –him- to push the issue as if it had been his ideal point all along. Ass. But Sam didn’t scowl. She bit her tongue and the urge the rested there, though she didn’t last long, and settled with another retort. “I would appreciate it if you stopped talking as if I’m some sort of item. I’m not ‘valuable’ I just possess the talents you –don’t-.”<br><br>Nightwing’s comment got the response he desired. She was no blushing virgin… though he just made her feel like one. “How about we go and get back? I’d like to check up on my patients…”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>14-02-2010, 23:05:20</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Trying to get an emotional rise out of Batman was about as effective as trying to tear down a wall with harsh words.&nbsp; During her whole retort, he barely even seemed to be paying attention to the fact that she was in the room.&nbsp; The lenses on his cowl making it utterly impossible to see his eyes, but from his body language, he wasn't especially emotionally involved in her case.<br><br>There was also the infuriating fact that when Batman suggested something that was already in the air... it was hard to discount the idea that he'd come up with the plan days before it had even been suggested.&nbsp; Everything about him made him appear as if he had contingencies for the contingencies of the back-up to plan B...<br><br>Nightwing guided her away from the cold shoulder, "You'll either get used to him... learn to love it... or put on a costume and try to kill him," Dick informed her, "And... hey, you've already got a costume, right?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>14-02-2010, 23:24:10</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				With reluctance she allowed herself to be guided back. Sam respected Batman, but so far she didn’t like him. It was eerie how accurate Clayface had played him, even when the man dropped his pants. Then again, perhaps Batman was easy to portray? Throw up a steal wall around yourself, be helpfully rude and distant. Viola.<br><br>Sam allowed Nightwing to guide her away, glad to leave his presence even if it would only mean for a short while. “I highly doubt it,” she muttered, hugging herself as she walked barefooted across the path he led her own. “And I don’t care, so the later isn’t even an option to consider.”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>14-02-2010, 23:47:57</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Come on," Dick said pulling her along, "We can't have you run barefoot.&nbsp; Let's get you some of Batgirl's old boots.&nbsp; They'll look better on your legs than anything I ever wore," he teased as he led her to a lengthy set of displays.&nbsp; It was perhaps the first glimpse of sentimentalism in the world that Batman had created to surround himself.&nbsp; There were two Robin costumes... one was another of Dick's old costumes, in slightly worse condition than the one he'd given her.&nbsp; The second seemed to have been pristenely retired.&nbsp; Then there was a woman's costume.&nbsp; The old Batgirl had stopped operating in Gotham a few years back... no one had ever known how or why."<br><br>The three costumes were placed on museum like display, as if it were a memorial.&nbsp; Dick almost felt guilty that his costume was amongst them.&nbsp; Barbara was alive, sure... but both she and Jason had been forced out of their lifestyle.&nbsp; Dick had just grown up, taken the next step.&nbsp; Somebody can't stay a student forever... maybe, in a way, that was like dying to Batman.&nbsp; When you no longer needed him...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>17-02-2010, 10:01:16</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Was this really necessary? Sam sighed as she followed Dick through the cave, still feeling as if she were violating these things simply by being here. The uniform, the ‘boots’. It was clear that the giant Spook wasn’t pleased and that only seemed to make it worse. Both arms hugged her waste as she walked, wishing for the simple pleasures. Clean socks, comfortable shoes. Jeans, a t-shirt and hoody, and maybe a cold beer with some sushi as she watched the soccer game on TV, slumped on the couch in her living room, simply enjoying such things.<br><br>Nope. Life had to turn more complicated than it was. Sam had to be here, enduring these things, with men and monsters and other things alike, as if she were some alien on a foreign planet. Didn’t she had a right to be bitter? Hesitant? Insecure? “How long do we have to be here?” She muttered, eyes sweeping the dark around them, looking miserable and uncomfortable. She really did want just go back and see to her patients, and try to pretend things were normal.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>17-02-2010, 10:13:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Just until morning," he replied in response to her question, "Remember what I told you about travelling at night?&nbsp; Well, now even He's paranoid about it with the Joker on the loose."&nbsp; By all appearances, the Joker had most likely been killed when the building had collapsed on top of him.&nbsp; But if the Joker were predictable, he'd be somebody else entirely.&nbsp; For now, at least until they could do a better head count... it was probably best to assume that he was still at large.<br><br>"Don't worry," Dick said regarding her clear discomfort in the clothing, "We'll get you something a little more incognito when we get out in the morning.&nbsp; But, I figured if anything happens on our way back out there... you'd probably rather be coverred up than acting as 'The Naked Doctor', right?"<br><br>"We're going to be making a couple runs tomorrow.&nbsp; Trying to get people from the camp they're in now... to one of the mansions in the Palicies.&nbsp; They're safer and easier to defend.&nbsp; Which means we can sent out better coordinated task..." he paused looking at her.&nbsp; This wasn't the kinds of things she needed to hear right now.&nbsp; The world was going to shit.&nbsp; Batman had just done his best impression of ... well... Batman.&nbsp; The two of them had just had amazing sex.&nbsp; And up until a few hours ago, she'd thought that Clayface and Poison Ivy were the last two human beings left in Gotham... if you could call either of them that.<br><br>"It's gonna get better," he said with genuine belief, "The world doesn't end until we say so, right?" he smirked.&nbsp; He always used to say that to Donna and Wally.&nbsp; They seemed worlds away now.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>17-02-2010, 10:23:50</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				There should be comfort in that, but Sam wasn’t feeling it. Both corners of her lips twitched in their attempt to smile, but it was a fleeting thing that began to drop away the moment it surfaced. She was trying, Sam wasn’t that depressing person who scowled at everything and never looked on the bright side of things. Just… now that they were out of the shower, and reality had settled back in, Sam wasn’t feeling very optimistic. She wanted to curl up small in a big bed and ask Dick to stay with her. He made her feel safe; he had come to save her, after all, even if it was almost too late. <br><br>“What time is it now?” It couldn’t have been too late; sun was setting when she woke in the park. But for all she knew several hours had passed since then. Sam bit her lip, glancing over her shoulder to the dark and then back towards Nightwing.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>17-02-2010, 10:38:15</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Almost five o' clock," he answerred her question, brushing some hair out from his eyes.&nbsp; It was still clinging to his forehead from the shower, "Getting pretty damn near dinner time.&nbsp; I might be able to find something in the freezer," he thought, "We aren't supposed to, but I showed Robin where to hide snacks inside the Freezer in the..." he shook his head, it always sounded silly when he said it, "Bat Lab.&nbsp; Month old hot pockets and otter-pops probably aren't your idea of cuisine, but it would have to be better than..." a slight shutter came over him, "Beans."<br><br>It was hard to tell if he was being genuine in his behavior, or perhaps playing up his sense of humor to make her more at ease.&nbsp; There did seem to be a genuine sense of comfort that he had in being able to be Dick Grayson, however, instead of having to keep up the persona of Nightwing.&nbsp; Similar as the two might be, there definitely seemed to be a difference.&nbsp; Which begged the question as to whether or not Batman might be the same without his mask... though, to most people, the idea of Batman having a face under there was just a rumor at best...<br><br>After a pause he smiled at her.&nbsp; It wasn't a happy smile as much as it was a smile of reassurance and comfort.&nbsp; Strength, "I'm here if you need to talk.&nbsp; All of this... it's a lot to take in pretty fast, I know.&nbsp; Batman treating you like a commodity doesn't help.&nbsp; I've been there.&nbsp; I was 'the Boy' for about three years.&nbsp; Even when I was Robin.&nbsp; Then I moved on... and he still called me Robin until he found somebody else to wear the costume."<br><br>"I think what I'm trying to say is... it's not an easy life.&nbsp; And I'm sorry that it's been temporarily forced upon you."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>18-02-2010, 07:43:11</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				“I don’t know what I want to do.” She mumbled, shifting her weight from foot to foot as her eyes watched the movement. It would be nice if she did, refusal or acceptance… at least it was something to focus on. But… it was sitting there on the tip of her tongue, waiting to be released or swallowed. She had sex with Batman and Nightwing, though it turned out to be Clayface. Ivy joined the picture and made Sam realize what had happened. Horror set in. Then, while she was unraveling in the shower, she invited the –real- Nightwing in to prove to herself the real difference. While they had only given oral, it was good. But now was starting to feel rotten. As if she had used Dick.<br><br>“Dick… I slept with you.” And there it was, followed by a harsh wince and the averting of her eyes. “Well… I thought it was you. I… it was overwhelming, first there was talking, and then there was kissing, and there were both of you there acting as if we were all that existed and I… I gave in. I didn’t think, even when it was moving –way- too fast, I said no… I think… and then… She showed up. I realized what was happening but Clayface wouldn’t stop. He kept… moving inside me, and she kissed me, and the more she killed me the more I couldn’t resist her. Even though I knew I had to. Her plants did something too and then it was over and you showed up and… I didn’t mean to hit you.”<br><br>It all came out in a rush. Hesitant at first, but by the end she was fumbling with the words and rushing them out as quickly as possible, eyes flicking side to side as she relived it and tried to make sense of it. As if there should be some logical explanation for one thing or another as if that would take the disgust away. She didn’t see anything.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>18-02-2010, 07:59:02</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				I was there, he began to say but cut off when she continued her statement about having slept with him.&nbsp; That Ivy and Clayface had been a little more aggressive than just a kiss to poison her and make her fight them.&nbsp; He hadn't been oblivious to the smell of sex, let alone that Ivy didnt' need Sam naked to kiss her.&nbsp; Samantha's story was all over the place, like one would expect of a rape victim.&nbsp; But he didn't want to call her that.&nbsp; Most women hated the label.&nbsp; 'Victim' and all that came with it.<br><br>"Ivy's toxins do... things," he said trying to sound calming.&nbsp; He was ready for her to lash out, ready to let her scream and flail and be violent or clingy.&nbsp; Ready for whatever she needed of him.&nbsp; She wasn't the first rape victim he'd met.&nbsp; But she was certainly the first that he felt feelings for when she started to explain the situation to him, "They make people break down.&nbsp; You lose your will to resist her."<br><br>"Clayface is a good actor.&nbsp; You didn't do anything wrong, Sam," he told her.&nbsp; She wasn't somebody that needed to be blamed, "Passionate moments make people do passionate things," he tried to let her think of it less as a rape and more as a one-night stand that she could easily forget.&nbsp; To let her keep her confidence and her self-regard.&nbsp; "I like you," Clayface had used a stronger word, but Dick used a more honest noe, "And I still like you even after you hit me.&nbsp; Don't even worry about that..." he wanted to make a joke.&nbsp; Something about how he liked a girl with a little bit of a feisty side... but thought better of it.&nbsp; Not everything was fixed with wisecracks.<br><br>Where's Selina when you need a sensetive woman?
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Malrunar</strong> on <strong>26-02-2010, 08:25:26</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She was uncertain about her feelings; part of what he said was exactly what she wanted to hear. That this wasn't her fault, she hadn't done anything wrong, that it was all of -their- fault and not hers. Clayface was an actor, so how else could she have known? And as for the passionate moment... yes. It was. It was everything she needed after the awful things they said to her. And he wasn't holding it against her.<br><br>Sam looked back up at Dick once he said those words, similar to the ones that Clayface had uttered, but realistic. When the monster had uttered them Sam had been surprised, denied it, uncertain even with her disbelief. But now she had no doubt about it. It brought her comfort that he wasn't holding this against her. That he seemed to, roughly, understand. Sam hugged herself, nodding, but looked a little more relaxed, a little more... together. The last two days have been chaotic, and right at that moment she ached for sleep.<br><br>But, that silent fear of being alone kept her from excusing herself. She remained standing before Nightwing, dressed as Robin, shivering and cold.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Macabre {Violence}</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Violence</strong> on <strong>26-02-2010, 10:58:49</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He could tell that this whole thing was bothering her.&nbsp; He'd have to be blind as well as stupid to miss the whole of it.&nbsp; A smile crept over his face softly as he leaned over and pulled her in for a soft hug that became tighter as he held her close.&nbsp; He held it for as long as she needed him to do so, quiet and content until he eventually broke the silence with a proposal, "You said you'd never been to a circus right?" he said with a hint of optimism in his tone.&nbsp; It was a change of subject that was probably desperately needed.<br><br>"Wait here..." he paused, "No wait over by the Batmobile!" he replied energetically.&nbsp; Then he dashed off.&nbsp; Just over two minutes later, he returned with a hot bag of microwave pop corn that he set in her hands, "Kettle Corn... well... sort of..."<br><br>He pulled three road flares out from the Batmobile and held them out in front of her, "First the juggler." He smiled and cracked each one of them so that the phosphorous began to burn at the end of each.&nbsp; One by one he tossed them into the air and juggled them with expert accuracy.&nbsp; After a few throws he began tossing batarangs from his belt up into the mix, and doing tricks like under the leg tosses and behind the back catches.&nbsp; Eventually ending with a spin, catching all three road flares in his hands, and one of the batarangs in his teeth.<br><br>It wasn't really a circus.&nbsp; But it was her own private show.&nbsp; She'd said before that she didn't have the happy memories that he did... something to focus on to get her through the pain.<br><br>"Next.&nbsp; The Lion Tamer!" he said pulling a whip off of a display of Catwoman's things and lashing it at her costume, "Nevermind.&nbsp; That's just kinky..." he said with a teasing wink, tossing the whip to her, "For later."<br><br>After he went through his strong-man impression, placing two spare tires on either end of a retractable staff, she might have noticed that Batman was watching with her.&nbsp; From the right angle, if you squinted just right... it might even look like he was smiling.<br><br>"Now the Clowns!" Dick said with a turn and a run around to the back of the Batmobile coming back holding one of Batman's spare face-plates in front of his face, "There will be no <em>Clowns </em> in this <em>Cave</em>!" he said in a gruff impression of Batman.&nbsp; Strangely, the impression also seemed like the kind of voice a child might do for his overbearing father.&nbsp; The genuine article did not seem especially amused.<br><br>Dick, however, just laughed and panted from the exertion of his act, "Now Sam... the most important part.&nbsp; Performing without the aid of a net... The Fabulous Flying Grayson..." he said as he dropped Batman's mask and took off at a full sprint towards the waterfall and the crevas between them and it.&nbsp; Rather than running along the bridge he opened his arms as if for a swan dive and leapt right off the edge into oblivion...<br><br>For a moment.&nbsp; A genuine second there was nothing.&nbsp; Just one hare's breath of an eternity where it looked like Dick had just been stupid and careless and suicidal.&nbsp; Even, for just one fraction of a heartbeat... Batman seemed to loose his composure, like he was half ready to run after him.&nbsp; Then there was a burst and the grappling hook shot up into the cave cieling.&nbsp; When next they saw Dick... just as he'd promised... he seemed to be flying...
			</dd>
		</dl>
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