(no subject)

[batricide]

WHO: Damian Wayne and YOU
WHERE: out and about through the city
WHEN:
WHAT: Catch-all for the month
NOTES OR WARNINGS:

prompts in the comments! lmk over pm or plurk if you'd like a prompt!

Comments

jason todd. reneger.

[batricide]

[ it's not that he's been ignoring jason intentionally. it's -- it's just a lot. everything back home, everything here. trying to balance feeling so fucking lost and directionless and needing to -- to not do that. he's been quiet on the network, quiet on the planning front, but he... can't do that anymore.

its not in his nature. and the arrival of this new jason is really driving that home. they fell apart before because they couldn't communicate. and two jasons - especially one still that young and brash - is going to be a mess if they can't pull themselves together. ]

[Bad username or site: hafid @ alghul]
Are you home?

[reneger]

( it has been a while--but jason's been trying to give damian his space, too. let him work through--whatever the hell this is. he knows that he should be reaching out, talking through what to do with this younger version of himself but he also figures. damian is clever, he'll probably figure it out sooner or later and if he feels the need to say something, he will.

and does, too. why else would he be reaching out? )

yeah, making a sandwich
you stopping by?

[batricide]

Yes.
Leave the window unlocked.

[ because what ARE doors, really? other than a way less fun way of getting around the city. ]

[reneger]

they're already open

( booby trapped to hell and back but jason doesn't lock them much either. using doors tracks who comes in and out of apartments, and sometimes he wants to be stealthy.

but since damian is coming: he actually gets himself off the sofa and moves into the kitchen, grabs onto a loaf of bread and various shit out of the fridge to. make sandwiches. wasn't making them before, but may as well now. )

[batricide]

[ give him about twenty minutes and he'll be there, scaling the wall and letting himself in. god, if any of their neighbors notice this nonsense, they probably worry about what kind of death seeking morons live in this city.

he's dressed in his civvies. his hair is braided, pulled into something more presentable than the Murder Mop. ]

Jason?

[reneger]

( he's still standing in the kitchen, a bottle of beer half empty beside him and two plates set in front of the barstools with. tofu sandwiches on them. it's not like there's any fucking lunch meat in this crappy future. )

Yo.

( look he isn't excited for this either. )

Hungry?

[batricide]

I could eat.

[ he follows his voice to the kitchen, taking stock of what he sees before him. ]

jason todd 2.0. overrate.

[batricide]

[ how does one be the big brother. he has no idea. dick up and died on him before he could figure that out, and... and he really doesn't know. total loss. this jason is more like the one he'd been familiar with, right up until the fucking clown decided the funniest thing in the world was a funeral. damian had been a kid, and jason had been his brother, and he'd basically shoved those memories in the same place he shoved dick's death. ]

[Bad username or site: hafid @ alghul]
Have you found a place yet or are you still in the safehouse?

[overrate]

[ this is still... so, so weird. so fucking weird, to go from a world of where it was just him and dick, and then all of the other titans, to now there's a whole host of extra robins he never recognized. ]

yeah, i got a place.

[ somehow. ]

don't get why anyone would willingly stay in that place.

[batricide]

It has some benefits, but the people that stay in there usually aren't considering those.

[ but ]

Have you found work?

[overrate]

no?

[ what is having a job? he has no clue what that is. ]

survived this long without that summer camp shit, not about to start now.

[batricide]

[ well.

damian can't actually argue with that, seeing how he also hasn't found a new job after getting chased off his old one. ]

Are you paying rent or are you squatting in an abandoned building?

[overrate]

i worked out a deal with someone. so, i've got an actual bed.

[ he knows why he's asking, but also, he really wants to ask why he's asking. it's weird. and, irrationally, he wants to remind everyone, hey, he's not that jason, so don't get any weird ideas.

but he fights that impulse. ]

stop worrying.

diana prince.

[batricide]

[ unfortunately, diana isn't getting the common courtesy of a heads up before the most bruce-like of all bruce wayne's children makes his way over to her place. he probably should - considers it, even, but he isn't sure how he'd want to start that conversation. they aren't terribly close -- his fault, always his fault, but if he keeps wallowing in this misery then he's going to get nowhere and be useless.

so diana, i hope you're ready for a batboy knocking on your window in the dead of fucking night. ]

[monomachy]

[Diana spends perhaps three nights in seven at home. There is simply too much to do in this city for her to sit still. But Damian is lucky that he's caught her on one of those three nights. Though she does need more rest than she used to, she still isn't used to sleeping through the night, and it means that though she's in sleepclothes, she's still awake.

She'd woken up with her bracers the night before, and had been cleaning them and checking them over for any damage beyond what she'd expected when the knock comes at her window. She sets the armor aside, instead picking up her lasso. Though she keeps her movements casual, fluid, as if she's just going across the room for something, there's a line of tension through her shoulders that betrays her caution.

Sharp eyes catch a familiar silhouette, and her posture relaxes. She reaches out to flip the latch on the window, pushing it up. The lasso glows faintly in her hand, and she flashes him a warm smile.]

Thank you for reminding me that it's possible to perch on any ledge. Would you like to come in?

[She's already decided that this isn't a social call. It hardly ever is. But that doesn't mean she can't try to lighten the mood before it weighs upon them both.]

[batricide]

I would, thanks.

[ look at these manners. look at them. damian hops off of the ledge and onto the floor, not so subtly glancing around the space. maybe he should've called her to his place. you're supposed to, like, have tea or something for a business meeting like this right?

it's inappropriate to just like, ask her for tea. ]

There's something I've been wanting to ask you.

[monomachy]

[She definitely takes notice of those manners, and smiles a bit to herself for them. Though she closes the window behind him, she doesn't latch it. The apartment is small, but neat and as elegantly furnished as it can be on Diana's small salary: every piece of furniture, every wall hanging, has been chosen specifically to emulate the art dealer persona she presents to the world. Over time, it had become less of a façade and more a true part of who she is, but the change had been so slow that she'd hardly noticed until the past few decades or so.

Though her brows raise a fraction at the abrupt nature of his statement, she can't be all that surprised. She's learned, by now, that this is just who Damian is, and there's nothing wrong with it (and it's so like his father, but she'll keep that to herself). So she gestures towards couch, offering him a seat if he'll take one, before striding over to the small kitchen. Don't worry, she's no stranger to the niceties of late night visits.]

And what is that? [She lets a beat pass, and adds:] Would you like something to drink?

[She leaves the offer open-ended, but does get down a kettle to heat water for tea. The lack of coffee in this world sometimes grates on her nerves, but she manages.]

[batricide]

[ he wants to say no but dr strange has now instilled a sense of meetings deserve tea and so he nods. ]

Whatever you're having is fine.

[ he doesn't sit. not yet. watching her bustle about the kitchen and trying to figure out how he feels about this. ]

It's about what I proposed months ago. The Justice League. [ name pending ] Are you still in?

[monomachy]

[She retrieves her favorite tea, a chamomile lavender herbal blend--something gentle, easy to drink. Though her hands don't fumble as she preps the tea to steep, her movements do slow minutely When he mentions the reformation of the League.

She'd been right; this wasn't a social call. But she can't be mad about it. His timing is good. In another world, she might have called it fated.

Diana looks up, leaning against the counter slightly as she replies, brows raised slightly.]

Of course I'm still in. I gave you my word.

kate bishop.

[batricide]

We're going to need to get you proper gear soon.

[ There's no leadup to it. Damian just says it over dinner as he's cutting up some fake bug-steak. he's done his best to make it palatable but really, there's only so much you can do when the underlying flavor is 'bug protein'. There's no Fitz here anymore to deck them out the way they need to be - he still has his collapsible sword, and his unmodified Nightwing gear, but so far as he knows Kate has nothing.

so... if his plans are going to work, he needs her in fighting shape. ]

[fledges]

[Kate's still not a fan of the whole bug thing, but at least the ground bugs make it easier to pretend she's just eating a weird soy meat substitute. Damian does a pretty good job of masking the flavor, actually, so she doesn't even flinch as she pops a bite into her mouth. His statement gets a bigger response, her eyebrows going up.]

I had a bow, but I have no idea where it is. What else do you think I need?

[batricide]

Body armor, for starters.

[ he's trying not to be a dick about it. it's pretty hard, considering damian wayne is first and foremost an asshole. he's never really had to make body armor for anyone other than himself, and he fights entirely differently than kate does.

but.

you know.

she needs it. ]

[fledges]

[Kate grins at that, her eyebrows going up.]

I've never worn body armor. You don't know what my costume looked like, do you?

[batricide]

No. [ but he's -- well, he's imagining it. and what he's imagining is something with an exposed midriff and spandex. which, on the one hand, is exceptionally stupid and his biggest pet peeve. on the other?

well we're not talking about that.

and he's going to pretend like he didn't. masking his fluster with a roll of his eyes. ]

Don't tell me you do that fashion over sense thing.

[fledges]

[Kate bursts out laughing, tilting her head at him.]

I can be sensible and fashionable.

[But he's not entirely wrong. So she leans forward, whispering conspiratorially.]

There are cut outs on the hips that you'd hate.