𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘋𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯'𝘴 𝘏𝘦𝘢𝘥.

.   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   . . . . . . . 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘋𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯'𝘴 𝘏𝘦𝘢𝘥. ↺ ♡

“I am simply a man thinking.” Ra’s still looked on as Bronze Tiger dominated the trainees one after another. “I assume things in Prague went smoothly with your…finer touch?”

“Have you?” The man simply asked as he turned his attention to the courtyard where members are training. “Unless you deem speaking philosophical words with me worthy of your time?”

“Lady Shiva.” The Demon states, acknowledging her words and presence with a nod.

“Gotham is a foul place.”

Solid flesh can never live up to the bright shadow cast by its absence. Time and distance blur the edges; then suddenly the beloved has arrived, and it's noon with its merciless light, and every spot and pore and wrinkle and bristle stands clear. —Margaret Atwood.

Each day is a little life: every waking and rising a little birth, every fresh morning a little youth, every going to rest and sleep a little death. — Arthur Schopenhauer

His daughter does not agree with him, but it is reassuring that she defends his honor.

Spoken like someone worried. They shall see what a Prince of Gotham decides.

Still sounds like resentment if he chooses otherwise.

He is old enough to make his own choices. Unless there’s no trust between father and son.

Wishing death on someone? Seems completely against his code. Perhaps jealousy has struck the Detective?

“As you wish, Jason Todd. I will send for @FistsForWeapons to come for you if you decide you wish to serve a higher purpose to humanity.”

“He is not like the Detective. He has already slain guilty souls without remorse. He is able.” Ra’s spoke, noting his daughter’s annoyance. “I had already considered yourself out, Talia. For a long time. I thought you only came around to ensure I have not grown ill.”