1(800) Adoption Papers NOT needed! Its a two for one special! ( 1POV Version )

Bird-bats VS Clowns the electric boogaloo ( ft. King Phantom)

" And this will incapacitate them?"  Damien asks.

" No, but it's going to have to do," I look over towards the clowns and turn to look at Jason, " You up for some more clowns?" 

He's quiet momentarily and sighs, "You took out zipper face already?" I nod, and he walks toward the commotion, Not even waiting or attempting to make a plan. To top it off, Tim and Damian follow him, ready to join the fray. ' Ugh, does nobody plan things anymore?!' I think as I take up the rear.

I send a blast of ice toward each of them, sticking their feet to the ground, making them turn around and stare at me and a mixture of shock and bewilderment.

" Eyes, check his eyes," says Tim.

"  Still baby blue," says Jason.

" You're going to see some red if you don't stop and think for a second," I say gruffly, " What's the plan?"

" We do not have the time for this," says Damien.

All they give me is silence, compelling me to pinch the bridge of my nose to stop my 'scary eyes™' from appearing. " We can't just go in with guns blazing and hope for the best." I point at Damian's water bottle, "You don't have a way to fight the ghosts, not without that, and we don't have enough to waste, not to mention accidental friendly fire."

" Then what do you suggest?" asks Damian. 

" Bruce and Dick for physical blows, keeping them distracted while you and Tim douse them in Holy Water." I gesture to the fire breather, " and Jason takes care of him. Once he's done, he can help me with long range and working on containment." While I can't read the other two, Damian is expressionless, so I add in unsure, backtracking, "Unless you have a better idea?"

" It is adequate," ensures Dami.

I start walking over to Father and Dick when I hear a " hum hum" behind me to see Tim pointing at their feet.

" Oh, right," I say, my face burning red in embarrassment as I get rid of the ice. Then I immediately run towards the clowns and yell, "Remember the staff! Whatever you do, make sure to break the staff!"

I don't wait for confirmation before I launch myself at the closest clown. It's wearing the same outfit as the other, but instead of a zipper, he's charred. His skin is a mixture of black and scabby, looking green. He has a small tuft of hair on the back of his head and is covered in shards of glass. Coming out of each hole is lightly flowing ectoplasm, painting itself in its blood. I attach myself to him like a baby koala, making him lose balance and tumble over. Before he can react, I pull out a phantom thermos and point it at him, souping him inside ' ⅖.' The whine of the thermos starting up gains the attention of the other clowns, giving Damian a chance to join in.

It's like we're back there, like no time has passed, fighting together. Watching a mirror move in familiar ways, taking familiar stances, picking up on the same movements. Knowing and having the reassurance that someone can read my movements.

That they can match me completely.
Completing me in a way I didn't realize I missed, as for once, I'm whole.  

I fight with him, and together we steadily soup the clowns; we fill one thermos. We keep going, fighting together back- to back- until we hear the telling signs of Jason. His gun rings out, 'Bang Bang Bang,' then silence. He joins us, and things take a turn for the better. It only takes a few minutes for us to fill up another Phantom thermos. It's not until I only see a couple more that I look down at the indicator on the third and final Phantom thermos, '⅗.'

Leaving only two clowns left.

But still no Lydia.

I move my way into earshot of Father, " Have you seen Lydia? Have you seen the ringmaster?"