Anti-Hero Lola [Comprehensive Anglo-American]

Since Superman was waiting outside the bathroom, Mary Jane changed Lola into a brand new nightgown as fast as she could.

She didn't forget to choose clothes for Lola because she was in a panic.

When Mary Jane first met, she thought that Laura was a little girl who had been away from the crowd for a long time because of "illness" and other similar reasons. Of course, after getting along for a while, especially after knowing Laura's true identity, this naive The idea had long since been thrown into the back of her mind - but that didn't stop Mary Jane from being sure that Lola had the same personality as most girls her age.

Love beautiful jewelry and clothes, or strictly speaking, all things beautiful.

Lola never wears the same dress twice, the same goes for shoes and jewelry, and no matter the timing of her appearance, she is sure to match herself from head to toe.

Except that she doesn't like makeup, she has all the bad habits that trendy girls have.

So Mary Jane carefully arranged the clothes for Lola: a pure white suspender silk skirt as the base, a powder blue chiffon shirt outside, and two small red agate earrings.

She even carefully chose a set of pale gold lace for her underwear—well, Mary Jane thought, she finally understood why Lola always wore red, yellow and blue primary colors.

Mary Jane swore she heard Superman laugh softly as she rushed to the bathroom with these things in her arms.

... What are you laughing at, she said in her heart, your daughter is such a stinky little girl, do you know that ... the burden of beauty is more than that of a Hollywood actress.

You must have collapsed when you saw her so dirty.

No wonder she cried like that.

The water in the bathtub has become warmer. Mary Jane turned on the ventilator, and the white water mist and hot humid breath slowly dissipated. In the snow-white bathtub, in the transparent water waves, Lola gradually reflected Mary Jane's Eye.

Her red hair swayed gently in the water, covering her snow-white body.

She closed her eyes, neither breathing nor moving, like a high-fidelity doll that has just been cleaned.

This strange feeling made Mary Jane's footsteps pause, but soon, she realized that this inhuman feeling was an illusion, and there was no doubt that Laura was a living person—just not a pure human being.

She lightly lifted Lola out of the water. Lola was still very light, but the weight of her red hair after drinking was astonishing. Mary Jane had to support Lola, let the little girl half-sit in the bathtub, and pulled out a towel. Slowly wrap Lola's red hair.

She squeezed her fingers tightly until the dry towel gradually became wet and heavy before letting go, and repeated the action with a different towel.

After changing three towels in a row, Lola's red hair stopped dripping. Mary Jane let out a long sigh of relief, and then realized that she was so nervous that she forgot to breathe during that period of time.

It didn't occur to her that Superman was still outside waiting for her to bring Lola out.

There may be a strange caregiver at work--the kind of natural instinct that makes girls obsessed with playing with dolls, combing the doll's hair, makeup, and changing clothes, and Mary Jane has indulged in nursing the drowsy Lola It's up.

Perhaps from the moment she carefully selected clothes for Lola in the closet, her mood was aroused.

She took care of Laura like an overly delicate doll, drying the water droplets on Laura's body, dressing her one by one, and carrying her out of the bathroom.

Superman, who was waiting outside the door, immediately took over.

"Okay." Mary Jane also breathed a sigh of relief, but the aftereffects of taking care of Laura just now are still there. She touched Laura's face naturally and relaxed, and asked worriedly, "Are you sure all her little problems have been solved, Right, Superman?"

"I'm sure. Thank you very much for your help, things will be difficult without you," replied Superman. "Go and rest, Mary Jane, you didn't sleep much last night."

A sleepiness that had been neglected for a long time surged up with Superman's unhurried tone, and as Superman's voice fell, Mary Jane almost couldn't help yawning.

She did not sleep well last night because of Lola's fuss.

Add to that the shock of seeing Superman in Lola's room, and taking care of Lola, who's been on a nerve for so long.

"Okay," murmured Mary Jane, "you're welcome . . . I'd love to take care of her."

She floated back to the room with vain footsteps, and fell headlong into dreamland.

Superman put Lola back on the bed, pulled the covers gently, and waited patiently.

It would be a lie to say that Lola was oblivious to everything she had done before she fell asleep.

But sometimes she really can't tell the difference between reality and dreams.

Asleep or awake, the sensations she experienced were more or less real, and dreams and reality were like two sides of a wall to her.

Both sides gave her the same feeling.

Only the feeling of going through the wall made her realize that she had left this side of the wall for the other side.

Only when she leaves the reality or the dream, can she perceive it.

... She slowly woke up.

When the sound of the heartbeat before falling asleep reached her ears, Laura opened her eyes, turned over, and showed a happy smile:

"Daddy?"

"Here." A hand reached out, scraping her cheek and smoothing her hair. "Good morning, Laura."

"Good morning!" Laura lifted the quilt and sat up, she saw the white blanket that was spread on her body at a glance, "My blanket."

She grabbed the blanket in her hands and looked at Superman before placing it in the small space above the tiger's mouth.

Then Lola tucked the blanket back.

"Interesting little prop," commented Superman, without asking where Lola got it. "Would you like something to eat?"

"I smell fried eggs," Laura replied.

She wriggled and wanted to get out of the bed, and immediately froze her body like a cat grabbed by the back of the neck after being scooped up by Superman: "Daddy?"

"Your shoes are soaked," replied Superman. "I'll take you to the shoe closet."

He carried Laura to the entrance. The slipper cabinet at the entrance was full of furry slippers of various shapes. Superman looked at them for a while, then picked out a pair of blue ones and put them on the ground.

Lola jumped out of his arms and into the slippers.

The sun poured in from the wide-open windows, and the Metropolis was a city full of light, with a clear line between day and night.

But the day in Gotham is always confused with the night, and the sky is always a faint leaden gray. Without a timing tool, it is difficult to judge the specific time.

Even a Gotham man like Jason who was born and raised in Crime Alley was no exception.

When he was awake, he was accompanied by a strong, unstoppable cough, as if a mouthful of blood was stuck deep in his throat.The more uncomfortable he was, the more he couldn't control his coughing forcefully, the more he coughed, the more uncomfortable he became, and he even gradually felt like he wanted to vomit.

Coughing on your back feels very bad.Jason turned over with great effort, and fell straight off the narrow single bed.

boom.

There was a muffled thud when he hit the ground.

Jason shivered from the wet floor.

He struggled to get up, stood up with the edge of the bed, and then sat up on the bed, and then he was in the mood to look around.

This is a place Jason has never been to.

The movable space in this room was very small. After stuffing a single bed, a toilet and a small sink, it was difficult for Jason to move his limbs a little in this small room.

Is there such a place in the Batcave?Jason thought half mockingly, half puzzled.

Damn Dick didn't hold back when he hit him.

Jason could still feel the pain in his limbs, but the pain was already the most bearable thing he had ever experienced. If he wasn't afraid of exacerbating the injury due to too violent movements, he could completely ignore the pain.

He sat on the edge of the bed and rested for a while, waiting for the buzzing in his head to stop-damn, it mustn't be a difficult concussion, but then again, he's locked up, what's the big deal about concussions Only then did he cheer up and carefully observe the cell where he was held.

Tim is nearly insane after returning from his night watch with Batman.

But when he learned what Dick had done, his first reaction was not "Too bad I didn't do what I promised Laura, I didn't take care of Jason, she doesn't know how to torment me", but "Dick must be crazy up".

The thought wasn't even a second thought that popped into his head, because his second thought was "oh my god what's up with Jason now".

After waiting for the two thoughts to turn in his mind for several times, Tim remembered Laura's exhortation.

But he wasn't as worried about Laura as he should be. On the contrary, the two thoughts of Dick's madness and what to do with Jason had completely blocked his chest, making him breathless.

"You're kidding," Batman said darkly.

It's almost a Batman-esque "you're crazy" kind of thing.

"I didn't," Dick said.

He wasn't wearing a Nightwing uniform, his face was pale, his eyes were bloodshot, but he didn't lose any ground when standing in front of Batman in full armor.

This is my idol, my favorite Robin, Tim thought, trying to convince himself that Dick had a reason for what he did, and he did succeed in convincing himself that Dick had a reason.

But a strange pain is still there...and Tim can't quite figure out why it's so clear.

He knew that he didn't look down on the second-generation Robin as much as he showed.

He didn't know that it wasn't just that he didn't look down on the second-generation Robin so much.

Maybe he likes the second-generation Robin a little bit, not out of regret for a boy's death, but out of admiration and respect-although not as deep as Nightwing or Batman, but there is.

"Tell me." Batman said, those who knew him well knew that he was on the verge of endurance, and the answer he heard next would directly determine how he would deal with it.

"Jason...Red Hood completely lost his mind," Dick said sadly. "I asked him why he killed so many people, and he said it was because he wanted to. I asked him if he felt any regrets and shame about what he had done. He said never. You know what, Bruce, he's changed...he's not the Jason Todd we knew."

Jason carefully identified the surroundings, and a guess, no, a guess, emerged from the bottom of his heart.

But he couldn't believe it.

"...he needs to calm down, not here, not in the Batcave," Dick said, "in Arkham Asylum."

Jason sat on the single bed, and after a while, he said slowly:

"Dry."

The author has something to say: Thanks to the little angel who threw the [grenade]: 敐敄 1;

Thanks to the little angels who voted [Landmines]: 2 Meow School Shocks;

Thanks to the little angels who irrigate [Nutrient Solution]: 10 bottles of Mountain Lord;

Jason Kwan is really Dick's fault, not the old bat's fault