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[color=000000][u][b]Location[/b][/u][/color]
💀 Happy Harbour.

[color=000000][u][b]Interactions[/b][/u][/color]
💀 N/A.
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Had he made a mistake? Another one? Casper remained seated where he was, watching Talon stand and leave at Black Canary’s behest. Training had reached its conclusion, and what a catastrophic end it was. Anger likely melded with anxiety, and perhaps even sorrow, all of which centered itself within Talon’s chest. The boy’s domino mask had managed to obfuscate his expression, and Casper was not an empath. He was merely empathetic. Dancing between the layers of life and death had, in a way, given him perspective. That much was certainly true. Spirits tended towards a less joyous approach, and perhaps Hex’s role of shepherd for the lost had armed him with the capabilities of being a shoulder to try on, as the phrase went. 

The truth of the matter was that Casper knew nothing of Talon’s past, however a person’s soul expressed far more than one’s bright energy initially conveyed. It was a lesson he had been taught by his mother, as Hex’s passive ability to see souls could be actively accomplished by Necromancers through the use of spells. 

There was death coating Talon’s essence, and where Casper refrained from judging the boy, he could draw an obvious conclusion. Talon had been a killer, a murderer, an [i]assassin[/i], and now he was here, among the rest. It spoke volumes in itself. Like Hex, the reformed soldier had been used by others, a weapon to be wielded. Words needed not be uttered for such revelations. 

Perhaps this was what drew Casper to the mysterious individual. The selective mute, the one who treaded in silence, a person whose soul spoke the loudest. Hex’s mother would consider this a poetic turn of events. “Was this also the wrong thing to do?” Coal asked, descending to Casper’s shoulder, before a beak likely pecked at the boy’s cheek. 

A soft shake of Casper’s head segwayed into his response, [color=FFE4C4]”No, I think I did the right thing..,”[/color] he offered, ghostly eyes remaining fixed on the assassin as he made himself scarce. 

“Am I sensing a crush!?” Coal exclaimed as the teen stood, his reaction leaving much to be desired. Rather, Casper’s gaze fell to the grass, his clawed digits finding home within the comfort of a leather jacket. 

[color=FFE4C4]”You’re sensing compassion..,”[/color] the Wraithborn commented, playfully flicking his friend before weightless steps carried him back to their headquarters. It had been a rather eventful day to be sure, and it felt relaxing to finally find himself freed from the sun, that black aura surrounding Casper dissipating as he stepped beyond heavy, metal doors. 

“So, whaddya’ make of the team, Zombie Boy?” The crow continued, stretching his wings as Casper started towards the lounge. 

[color=FFE4C4]”There’s an imbalance..,”[/color] Hex’s spectral voice trickled past his lips, [color=FFE4C4]”How will some of them react to the field..?”[/color] Casper uttered, pausing after he arrived at the lounge. It was empty, with everyone else either taking a breather, remaining outside, or having a shower. Lacking the features required for the latter to serve its purpose, Casper discarded the notion, and if that’s where Talon currently resided, circumstances would likely grow awkward. ‘Cooling off’ was a concept Casper was all too familiar with. 

“Oh come on, you think everything will end up in blood and gore?” Coal laughed, flying onto the kitchen faucet as he watched his dearest, and closest friend opening the fridge. “This isn’t our world, Casper. I am sure we won’t run into ghosts, zombies, and bodies hanging from hooks.” 

It was true that Hex’s usual venues were far darker, and certainly more morbid than streets patrolled by superheroes. Haunted houses were not only filled with dust and cobwebs. Equally so, Casper’s ventures before becoming a Wraithborn placed him in scenarios others would consider horrific nightmares. [color=FFE4C4]”People will die..,”[/color] claws wrapped around a soda bottle, the sound of Casper’s ebony digits clicking against the glass.

“Oh, look at this ray of sunshine,” the crow shook his head. “Cassy’, those unused to the harshness of reality and all that shit will learn, stop being so fucking edgy, and give me some of that!” A wing pointed at the flask in Hex’s hand. 

Reaching for a glass, Casper poured his feathery friend a serving before talons gripped its fragile edge, a beak occasionally dipped into the sweet liquid. [color=FFE4C4]”You’re right..,”[/color] the Wraithborn took a sip and fell to a sofa, [color=FFE4C4]”do you think I pissed off Talon..?”[/color]

“Guy almost got the noose, I think he was pissed off long before the Reaper came,” Coal cawed, “just give him some space, kid will be alright.” 

Sinking into his seat, Casper managed a slight frown. Was Talon going to hate Daphne? This could end badly.