𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐡 ; A Shakespearean Tragedy Called Love

02

Ivar sits cross-legged on top of the foul-smelling dumpster that hasn't been emptied out in some time. He quickly flicks through the money that Batman let him keep, numbers tallying up in his head as he counts.

Multiple envelopes splayed around him on top of the dumpster, his crude handwriting barely eligible in the dark of night and the bloody coating was not helping. 

An envelope titled Groceries lays empty as Ivar reaches for it, quickly, he stuffs a hundred dollars into the envelope and quietly thanks Poison Ivy for accidentally growing produce every time she fights Batman. The rent envelope also lays empty, Ivar isn't sure how much that's going to be due to differing costs every month thanks to the city's rogues and low immigration.

Quietly he puts away three hundred as his mind numbly thinks about all the crooked landlords in Gotham. He had already been scammed four different times last year when they were looking for a smaller apartment, Ivar frowns and pauses as he sets the envelopes back down.

Even the Joker promised to never charge such high rent if he was ever elected mayor. ( It was a weird time that year, all the rogues were out of it and Batman had the worst costume at the time, though most native gothamites pray to whatever god that Batman just keeps the same costume and won't change it, we don't need another rogue running around trying to be mayor )

He stretches his neck and groans softly when there's a soft crack. He clutches all the envelopes close to his chest and looks around for his bag, dread fills him again.

"Where's my backpack?"

Agitation fills him at the thought of Batman stealing his backpack, he seriously wishes mercy on Batman the next time he sees him. 

Ivar climbs down from the Dumpster and clenches his fist around the envelopes, he couldn't let anyone take this from him. He had to look after his Grandfather, had to look out for himself.

He rubs his chest and slowly shuffles out of the alleyway, his feet dragging against the ground in a way that would make his Grandfather cringe. He had to make it back before dawn if he wanted his Grandpa to not realize that he had sneaked out during the night. 

A rock clatters from behind and hits the back of his shoe, Ivar turns around and stares at the rock for a moment. Confusion was evident on his face, it was late and the only people out were rogues.

"Magpie, I know you're there" Ivar calls out to a shadowed figure he can barely make out.

Against better judgment, Robin calls out. "It's Robin! Not Magpie!"

Ivar smiles to himself in victory, warmth spreading through him at his achievement. "Didn't Batman ever teach you to make sure the enemy was only bluffing? Come on Magpie, I won't hurt you"

Robin steps out from the shadows with a scowl on his face. "Stop calling me that"

"Sure thing Magpie" Ivar tilts his head and gives Robin the biggest smile he can.

"Why do you even call me that?" Robin asks as Ivar takes a step closer to him, he takes a defensive position against the vigilante. "Why'd you choose Magpie of all things?"