STREGA
[noun] a woman who is supposed to have powers of magic, usually through working with the devil.
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"Wanna see a magic trick?"
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{ TITANS 1-}
[Garfield Logan]
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01.05 Together
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AZRAEL HUFFS IN ANNOYANCE, GARFIELD'S ELBOW PRODDING INTO HER RIB THAT IS HEALING FROM THE TRANQUILIZER. "Fuckin' ouch!"
"Sorry." He winces, finishing sliding his jacket on.
She yawns, scooting farther to her own seat of the minivan. The Eaton rolls her eyes as the Grayson silently turns into the shabby hotel lot, leaning her warm face on the cool door. "Dude, you've done that twice. I wouldn't try a third."
He gulps at her cold tone, glancing in the mirror at Dick. "I can't believe you traded in the Porsche for a minivan."
"At least we can all fit in." The man sighs.
Kori nods. "I like the van."
"We're not actually staying here, are we?" Rachel inquires, poking her head between Azrael and Garfield from the farthest back seat.
Kori turns to Dick, telling him; "You know, there's probably a nicer place down the road."
Azrael shrugs, unbuckling herself and grabbing the bag she almost cried when Dick reunited her with it, stating; "I've lived in worse."
In appreciation, the Grayson nods at the Eaton. "We're being hunted by sociopaths. Nicer places draw attention."
"Yeah, well, they also make it easier to sleep." The magenta haired woman scoffs.
Dick points out the windshield. "One road in, same road out. Only one point of access we have to watch. And also, it's quiet. If trouble comes our way, we should hear it first. And who said anything about sleep?"
Azrael turns to Rachel and Gar with her normal glare, opening the van door to allow her feet dangling above the cement. "What the fuck have we gotten ourselves into?"
The teen slips from the van with her bag as Dick exits, snatching a key from him and running to her room without a second thought. She places her bag down, ripping open a pack of Oatmeal Crèmepies, scarfing it down with a sip of water before a knock emits from the wood of her door. She peaks from the hole, swinging it open with a scowl. "What?"
Gar steps back, forcing a smile. "Dick wants us to meet in his room..."
Her blue eyes roll hard enough she's shocked Dick didn't come in complaining about hearing them, sighing. "Of course."
Azrael slips from the room, her shoulder brushing his which he frowns at, shutting the door with the key on her wrist. The door opens and she slinks in, avoiding the group as she leans on the table, her fingers hanging from her denim belt loops as Gar subconsciously glances at her every five seconds as he tears a slice from the pizza box.
