The arm that's thrown out across Robbie's chest is a nice gesture, but all it does is make him puff out his chest and try to stand a little taller. Despite the fear or maybe because of it, Rich has redirected him into such a natural stance for him: proving he's enough. He's old enough to be a superhero. Cool enough to try out for the Avengers. Awesome enough to be a New Warrior. Sorry enough to keep living. Right now? He's big enough to be the one doing the defending, and, yes, he is even self-preserving enough to stay away from the magic sewer that a balloon just came out of.
As if the grate has to argue with Robbie, too, it pukes up more balloons. Half a dozen, maybe more, and they nearly encircle the boys like lazy lightning. The ones that Robbie watches - they barely seem to move from second to second, but the one he loses focus on suddenly reappears at the far corner of his vision, shepherding the blonde closer to the brunette.
Something laughs from in the grate and all around him, and it sounds like nothing he's ever heard before and nothing he's ever wanted to hear again. There's a tone that Norman Osborn has in his laugh, that Bullseye has. They sound nothing alike except for some twist in their laugh, and you know. You know that they have just enough of a grip on reality to smash it and they'll do it because it's fun.
"Hello boys!," Robbie snaps it out automatically, one-upping the voice as best he can by trying to imitate the guy from Independence Day. Trying and failing, because he's eleven. His body couldn't find puberty with a map right now, so forget sounding like an adult. He answers without thinking, before the yellow eyes glint out of that darkness.
Before he squeaks at the sight of them and jumps as the grease paint melts into view around them. Jumps in place - his adrenaline says get back and his heart says leap in front of Rich because, holy shit, there is a goddamn evil clown.
Robbie will never be sure if he'd have made it off that street without Rich. He was running as fast as he could, but... in hindsight, it will seem slow. The sprint is a one-word order, autopilot, and Rich's hand clamped around Robbie's wrist, yanking him along.
It isn't until they've stopped (not until they're safe - after seeing that, they aren't safe until they're back on Legion World, back in their twenties, with a few dozen superheroes in the same room) that Robbie wastes breath on trying to talk, though he's panting softly. "Did you - I could smell the cotton candy. I could smell it in the sewer."
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As if the grate has to argue with Robbie, too, it pukes up more balloons. Half a dozen, maybe more, and they nearly encircle the boys like lazy lightning. The ones that Robbie watches - they barely seem to move from second to second, but the one he loses focus on suddenly reappears at the far corner of his vision, shepherding the blonde closer to the brunette.
Something laughs from in the grate and all around him, and it sounds like nothing he's ever heard before and nothing he's ever wanted to hear again. There's a tone that Norman Osborn has in his laugh, that Bullseye has. They sound nothing alike except for some twist in their laugh, and you know. You know that they have just enough of a grip on reality to smash it and they'll do it because it's fun.
"Hello boys!," Robbie snaps it out automatically, one-upping the voice as best he can by trying to imitate the guy from Independence Day. Trying and failing, because he's eleven. His body couldn't find puberty with a map right now, so forget sounding like an adult. He answers without thinking, before the yellow eyes glint out of that darkness.
Before he squeaks at the sight of them and jumps as the grease paint melts into view around them. Jumps in place - his adrenaline says get back and his heart says leap in front of Rich because, holy shit, there is a goddamn evil clown.
Robbie will never be sure if he'd have made it off that street without Rich. He was running as fast as he could, but... in hindsight, it will seem slow. The sprint is a one-word order, autopilot, and Rich's hand clamped around Robbie's wrist, yanking him along.
It isn't until they've stopped (not until they're safe - after seeing that, they aren't safe until they're back on Legion World, back in their twenties, with a few dozen superheroes in the same room) that Robbie wastes breath on trying to talk, though he's panting softly. "Did you - I could smell the cotton candy. I could smell it in the sewer."