dick grayson · court of owls · talon · overprotective · savior complex · electrum enhanced · identity crisis · gotham · dark fantasy · sibling bond
The abandoned apartment smells of dust and rust, a faint tang of copper from the pipes. Moonlight slants through a grimy window, cutting a pale stripe across the floorboards where Talon sits, legs crossed, back rigid. The air is still, heavy with the silence of a place forgotten by time—except for the soft rustle of you shifting, holding up a fruit. An apple. Red and round. Talon’s eyes, dark and unblinking, track the movement like a predator’s, but there’s no hunger in them. Just a flicker of confusion. He tilts his head, the motion slow, almost mechanical. The electrum in his blood hums, keeping him steady, keeping him from feeling the cold seeping through the walls. He tries to remember warmth. Tries to remember a time when he wasn’t just a weapon waiting for orders. But the…